lib*.' ^°^ jPrj. «P A * -„ . . « G^ *o >* ■ ■ X? j* <* J* bv 1 '*■& '' A^ % * a — o a — ' 3-3* l*i z to <2 Z2" pi "3 O > r r i/> c 31 D O c 2 O 2 sin S «" n 3* 3--» H -< O ■n n tn x z p o X z 1 » - □ 2 5 ■ax) is n THE MARVELOUS PROGRESS OF THE 19TH CENTURY The above symbolic picture, after the master painting of Paul Sinibaldi. explains the secret of the wonderful progress of the pasl 100 years. The genius of Industry stands in the centre. To her right sits Chemistry ; to the leit the geniuses of Elec- tricity with the battery, the telephone, the electric light ; there also are the geniuses of Navigation with the propeller, and of Literature and Art, all bringing their products to Industry who passes them through the hands of Labor in the foreground to be fashioned for the use of mankind. THIS ACHIEVEMENTS OP ONE HUNDRED YEARS The Marvelous Record of the Closing Century Embracing Descriptions of the Decisive Battles of the Century and the Great Soldiers Who Fought Them ; the Rise and Pall of Nations ; the Changes in the Map of the World, and the Causes Which Contributed to Political and Social Revolutions ; Discoverers and Discoveries ; Explorers of the Tropics and Arctics; Inventors and Their Inventions; the Growth of Liter- ature, Science and Art ; the Progress of Religion, Morals and Benevolence in All Civilized Nations. By CHARLES MORRIS, LL.D. Author of "The Aryan Kacc." "Civilization. Its History. Etc.." "The Greater Republic." Bee. Embellished With Nearly 100 Full-Fane Half-Tone Fngravincis, Illus- trating the Greatest Events of the Century, and 100 Portraits of the Most Famous Men in the World. AMERICAN BOOK & BIBLE HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA, PA. 73148 NOV 9 1900 CopyrtgM mtry CLu^. '. >utside World — Their Ignorance of Othei leaking Down of the Walls in the Nineteenth Century — Japan's Sudden Rise to Power — earn—The Yankees of the Ivtst — Conditions of Conservatism Holds on in China- Li Hung Chang Rises into Prominence — Ti □ Trouble — War Be- tween China and Japan — The Rattle ofYalu River — Admiral Ito's Victory — Japan* Army Invades the Celestial Empire — China Surrenders — European Nations Demand Open Commerce — Threatened Partition 309 CHAPTER XXI The Era of Colonies mien e the Promoter of Colonization — England's Wise Policy — The Growth of Her Colonies Under Liberal Treatment — India — Australia — Africa— Colonies 1 pud Germany — Partition of Africa — Progress of Russia in \ jressivene the Czar's G ivernment — The United States Becomes a Colonizing Power — The I ' il Powers and Their Colonies at the Close of the Century , 323 CHAPTER XXII How the United States Entered the Century bwlj Formed Country Washington, the National Capital Peace With France — is of State Sovereignty — Stal id the National O The Influence of Washington — The Supreme Court and its I Than Four Millions — No City of 50,000 Inhabitants in Am ttled Country -Savages — Trouble With Algiers -War Dei lared by I I 'nomas Jeffer- son Elected President 343 io LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS CHAPTER XXIII Expansion of the United States From Dwarf to Giant Ohio Admitted in 1802 — Louisiana Purchased From French 1803 — Admission of the States — Florida Transferred to the United States 1819 — The First Railway in 1826 — Indians Cede Their Illinois Lands in 1830 — Invention of Telegraph 1832 — Fremont's Expeditions to the Pacific Slope — Conquest of Mexico — Our Domain Established From Ocean to Ocean 1848 — -The Purchase of Alaska From Russia 1867 — ■ Rapid Internal Growth — Cities Spring up on the Plains — A Marvelous Era of Peace — Through the Spanish-American War Comes the Acquisition of First Tropical Territory — From East to West America's Domain Reaches Half-way Around the World — Three Cities Each With Over 1,000,000 Inhabitants CHAPTER XXIV The Development of Democratic Institutions In America Colonization and its Results — Religious Influences — Popular Rights — Limitations— Colonial Legislatures — The Money Question — Taxation — Confederation — The Franchise — Property Qualifications — Growth of Western Ideas — Contrast Between Institutions at the Beginning and Close of the Century CHAPTER XXV America's Answer to British Doctrine of Right of Search Why the War of 181 2 Was Fought — The Principles Involved — Impressing American Sailors — Insults and Outrages Resented — The "Chesapeake" and "Leopard" — ■ Injury to Commerce — Blockades — Embargo as Retaliation — Naval Glory — Failure of Canadian Campaign — "Constitution" and the " Guerriere ' ' — The "Wasp" and the "Frolic" — Other Sea Duels — Privateers — Perry's Great Victory — Land Opera- tions — The "Shannon" and the "Chesapeake" — Lundy's Lane and Plattsburg — The Burning of Washington — Baltimore Saved — Jackson's Victory at New Orleans — Treaty of Peace CHAPTER XXVI The United States Sustains Its Dignity Abroad First Foreign Difficulty— The Barbary States — Buying Peace — Uncle Sam Aroused — Thrashes the Algerian Pirates — A Splendid Victory — King Bomba Brought to Terms — Austria and the Koszta Case— Captain Ingraham — His Bravery — "Deliver or I'll Sink You ' ' — Austria Yields — The Paraguayan Trouble — Lopez Comes to Terms — ■ The Chilian Imbroglio — Balmaceda — The Insult to the United States — American Seamen Attacked — Matta's Impudent Letter — Backdown — Peace — All's Well That Ends Well, Etc CHAPTER XXVII Webster and Clay — The Preservation of the Union The Great Questions in American Politics in the First Half of the Century — The Great Orators to Which They Gave Rise — Daniel Webster- — Henry Clay — John C. Calhoun US! ( >/■' ( HAPTERS AND SI 'BJECTS 1 1 — Clay's Compromise Measure on the Tiriff Question — On Slavery F.xtcnsion — Webster and Calhoun and the Tariff Question — -Webster's Reply to Hayne — The Union Must and Shall be Preserved -,,S en utf.k xxviii The Annexation of Texas and the War With Mexico Texas as a Province of Mexico — Rebellion and War — The Alamo Massacre — Rout of Mi • San Jacinto — Freedom of Mexico Annexation to the I nited States — The War Willi Mexico — Taylorand Buena Vista— Scott and Vera Cruz — Advance on and Capture of Mexico — Results of the War 413 CHAPTER XXIX The Negro In America and the Slavery Conflict The Negro in America — The First Cargo — Beginning of the Slave Traffic — As a Laborer — Increase in Numbers— Slavery ; its Different Character in Different States — Politi- cal Disturbances — Agitation and Agitators — John Brown — War and How it Emanci- pated the Slave — The Free Negro — His Rapid Progress 425 CHAPTER XXX Abraham Lincoln and the Work of Emancipation Lincoln's Increasing Fame — Comparison With Washington — The Slave Auction at New- Orleans —"If 1 Ever Oct a Chance to Hit Slavery, 1 Will Hit it Hard " — The Young Politic im Elected Representative to Congress — His Opposition to Slavery— His Famous Debates With Douglas — The Cooper Institute Speech — The Campaign of i860 — The Surprise of Lincoln's Nomination — His Triumphant Election — Threats of Secession— Fii Sumter — The Dark f the War — The Emancipation Question— The Great Proclamation -End of the War — The Oreat Tragedy — The Peauty and Oreatness of His Character 436 CHAPTER XXXI Grant and Lee and The Civil War Grant a Man for the Occasion — Lincoln's Opinion — " Wherever Crant is Things Move " — "Unconditional Surrender "—" Not a Retreating Man'' — Lee a Man of Ac- knowledged Greatness — His Devotion to Virginia — Oreat Influence — Simplicity of Habits— Shares the Fare of His Soldiers — Lee's Superior Skill — Oratitude and Affec- tion of the South — Oreat Influence in Restoring Good Feeling— The War — Seces Not Exclusively a Southern Idea — An Irrepressible Conflict — Coming Events — Lin- coln — A Nation in Atms— Sumter — Anderson — McClellan — Victory and Defeat — "Monitor" and "Merrimac" — Antietam — Shiloh — Buell — Grant — George IL Thomas — Rosecrans — Porter — Sherman — Sheridan — Lee — (Gettysburg —A Oreat Fight— Sherman's March— The Confederates Weakening— More Victories — Appo- mattox — Lee's Surrender — From \\ ice 449 f the" tion — Th( I aion — The International Workingmen's Association — The System of the Strike — Arbitration and Profit Sharing — Experiments and Theories in Economies — Co-operative Associations — The Theories of Socialism and Anarchism — Secular Communistic Experiments — Development of Socialism — Growth of th# Socialist Party — The Development of the Trust — An Industrial Revolution .... 554 CHAPTER XXXIX Charles Darwin and the Development of Science Scientific Activity of the Nineteenth Century-Wallace's "Wonderful Century" — Use- ful and Scientific Steps of Pro;:: vs of Recent I ties in Astronomy — The Spectroscope — The Advance of Chemistry — Light and its Phe- nomena — Heat as a Mode of Motion — Applications of Electricity — The Principles of j 4 LIST OF CHAPTERS AND SUBJECTS PAi Magnetism — Progress in Geology — The Nebular and Meteoric Hypotheses — Biolog- ical Sciences — Discoveries in Physiology — Pasteur and His Discoveries — Koch and the Comma Bacillus — The Science of Hygiene— Darwin and Natural Selection ... 56 CHAPTER XL Literature and Art in the Nineteenth Century- Literary Giants of Formei Times — The Standing of the Fine Arts in the Past and the Present — Earl) American Writers — The Poets of the United States — American Novel- ists — American Historians and Orators — The Poets of Great Britain — British Novelists and Historians — Other British Writers — French Novelists and Historians — German Poets and Novelists — The Literature of Russia — The Authors of Sweden, Norway and Denmark — Writers of Italy — Other Celebrated Authors — The Novel and its Development — The Text-Book and Progress of Education — Wide-spread use of Books and Newspapers 55 CHAPTER XLI The American Church and the Spirit of Human Brotherhood Division of Labor — American Type of Christianity — Distinguishing Feature of American Life — The Sunday-school System — The Value of Religion in Politics — Missionary Activity — New Religious Movements — The Movement in Ethics — Child Labor in Factories — Prevention of Cruelty to Aminals — Prison Reform — Public Executions — The Spirit of Sympathy — -The Growth of Charity — An Advanced Spirit of Benevolence 6c CHAPTER XLII The Dawn of the Twentieth Century The Century's Wonderful Stages — Progress in Education — The Education of Women — - Occupation and Suffrage for Women — Peace Proposition of the Emperor of Russia — ■ The Peace Conference at The Hague — Progress in Science — Political Evolution — Territorial Progress of the Nations — Probable Future of English Speech — A Telephone Newspaper — Among the Dull-Minded Peoples — Limitations to Progress — Probable Lines of Future Activity — Industry in the Twentieth Century — The King, the Priest and the Cash Box — The New Psychology 61 LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS PAGR i of the Ninel ry Frontispiece hike of Chartres at the Battle of Jemappes 21 attle of Chateau-Gontier 22 >eath of Marat 3 1 ,ast Victims of the Reign of Terror 3 2 Antoinette Led to Execution 37 "he Battle of Rivoli 3 8 rapoleon Crossing the Aljis 47 rapoleon and the Mummy of Pharaoh 48 Fapoleon Bonaparte ■. 53 'In- Mr, in: Sovereigns 54 'he Death of Admiral Nelson 59 lur.it at the Battle of Jena 60 'he Battle of Eylau 69 'lie Battle of I Holland 7° !he Order to Charge at Friedland 79 fapoleon and the Queen of Prussia at Tilsit 8° larshal Ney Retreating from Russia 89 General Bliicher's Fall at Ligny 9° "he Battle of Dresden, August 26 and 2-, [813 94 is English Novelists 95 'he Eve of Waterloo 99 Wellington at Waterloo Giving the Word to Advance 100 Letreat of Napoleon from Waterloo 109 'he Remnant of an Army 11° llustrious Leaders of England's Navy and Army 119 amos Watt, the Father of the Steam Engine 120 heat English Historians and Prose Writers 129 'anions Popes of the Century I 3° ireat English Statesmen ( Plate I ) 139 bitain's Sovereign and Heir to the Throne 14° fopular Writers of Fiction In England 149 x6 LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS VAGI Great English Statesmen (Plate II) . 15° Potentates of the East 159 Landing in the Crimea and the Battle of Alma 160 The Congress at Berlin, June 13, 1878 169 The Wounding of General Bosquet = 17* The Battle of Champigny 179 Noble Sons of Poland and Hungary 180 Noted French Authors 189 Napoleon III. at the Battle of Solferino 190 Great Italian Patriots 199 The Zouaves Charging the Barricades at Men tana 200 Noted German Emperors ' 209 Renowned Sons of Germany , 210 The Storming of Garsbergschlosschen 219 Crown Prince Frederick at the Battle of Froschwiller , . 220 Present Kings of Four Countries 229 Great Men of Modern France 230 Russia's Royal Family and Her Literary Leader 257 Pour Champions of Ireland's Cause 258 Dreyfus, His Accusers and Defenders 281 The Dreyfus Trial 282 The Bombardment of Alexandria 291 Battle Between England and the Zulus, South Africa 292 The Battle of Majuba Hill, South Africa 301 Two Opponents in the Transvaal War 302 Typical American Novelists 307 Two Powerful Men of the Orient 308 Four American Presidents 409 Great American Orators and Statesmen 410 The Battle of Resaca de la Palma 419 Great American Historians and Biographers 420 Great Men of the Civil War in America 445 The Attack on Fort Donelson 446 General Lee's Invasion of the North 455 The Sinking of the Alabama, etc 456 The Surrender of General Lee . . , 465 The Electoral Commission Which Decided Upon Election of President Hayes 466 Prominent American Political Leaders 475 Noted American Journalists and Magazine Contributors 476 The U. S. Battleship "Oregon" 4S3 LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 17 PAI.U In the War-Room at Washington Leading Commanders of the Ainerii in Navy, Spanish-American War Leading Commanders of the American Army Spaniards in 1898 497 Populai H "I the Spanish American War 498 irrender of Santiago 5 QI Commissioners of the Spanish-American War 502 Illustrious Sons of I 5 21 Great Explorers in the Ti id Arctics 522 [nventors of the 1 motive ind the Electrii I 1 L raph 539 Edison Perfecting the l'ir^t Phonograph 54° The Hero of the Strike, Coal Creek, Tenn 557 ition Illustrious Men of Science in the Nineteenth Century 575 Pasteur in His Laboratory 57*> Great Poets of England 5^9 Vmerican Poets 59° Count i Literary Work 603 New Congressional Library at Washington, D. C 604 Famous Cardinals of the Century 615 Preachers and Writers of Religious Classics 616 Greater New York 629 to the I niversal Peace Conference at The Hague, 1S99 630 Key to above 631 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF PORTRAITS PAGB Abbott, Lyman 476 \dams, John Quincy 409 \.gassiz, Louis 575 \guinaldo, Emilio 308 \lbert Edward, (Prince of Wales) . . . 140 \ustin, Alfred 589 Balfour, A. J 150 Bancroft, < 420 Barrie, James M 1 pi Beecher. Henry Ward 410 Besant, Walter [49 Bismarck, Karl 1 >tto Von 210 Blai k, William 140 Blaine, James ( '1 (.75 Blanco, Ramon 497 Bright, John [39 Browning. Robert 589 Bryan, William Jennings 475 nt, William Cullen 590 Bryee, James 150 Caine. T. Hall 149 Carlyle, Thomas [29 Cer\. miral) Chai 1 : eph 302 Christian IX., (King of Denmark) . . 229 Clay, Henry 410 Cleveland, Grover 475 Cooper, James Fenimore 307 Dana, Charles A 470 Darwin, Ch; rles 575 Davis, Cushman K 502 Davi i, K rding 476 1 1 itt, Mil hael 258 Day, William R 502 DeLesseps, Ferdinand 230 I li ew, Chaum ey M 410 Dewej George 487 1 I ..-ns. Charles 95 Disraeli. Benjamin 139 Dreyfus. . Alfred 281 Doyle, A. Conan 149 Drummond, Henry 616 PAOB Dumas, Alexander 189 I )u Maiuier, George 149 iton, Edward 307 Emerson, Ralph Waldo 590 Esterhazy, Count Ferdinand W. . . . 281 Everett, Edward 410 Farrar, Frederick W. , (Canon") .... 616 (] imperor of Austria) . 229 Froude, Richard H 129 Frye, William P 502 Gambetta, Leon 230 tldi, < Juiseppe 199 ird 129 Gladstone, William Ewart 139 410 Grady, Henry W 410 Grant, Ulysses S 445 Cray. George 502 Greeley, Horace 476 . Edward Everett 307 II. itead, Mu rat 47 f > 307 fulian )7'i Healy. T. M~. 258 Henry. Patrii k 410 nanl ( olonel 281 Hobson, Rii n 498 Holmes, Oliver Wendell 590 Howells, William Dean 307 189 . 1 Ring of Italy) 229 iboldt, F. H. Alexander von . . . 575 Huxley. Thomas H 575 Jackson, Andrew 409 Jefferson, Thomas 409 Kipling. Rudyard Kosciusko, I liaddetlS 180 ith, Louis • 180 Kruger, Paul 302 (19) 20 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF PORTRAITS PAGB Labori, Maitre 281 Laurier, Sir Wilfrid 521 Lee, Robert E 445 Lee, Fitzhugh 488 Leo XIII., (Pope) 130 Li Hung Chang 308 Lincoln, Abraham 445 Livingstone, David 522 Longfellow, Henry W 590 Loubet (President of France) .... 230 Lowell, James Russell 590 Lytton, (Lord) Bulwer 95 McCarthy, Justin 150 Macaulay, Thomas B 129 MacDonald, Sir John A 521 MacDonald, George 149 M< Kinky, William 475 McMaster, John B 420 Manning, Henry Edward (Cardinal) . . 615 Mercier, (General of French Army) . . 281 Merritt, Wesley 488 Miles, Nelson A 488 Moltke, H. Karl B. von 210 Morley, John 150 Morse, Samuel. F. B 539 Motley, John L 420 Nansen, (Dr.) Frithiof 522 Napoleon Bonaparte 53 Nelson, (Lord) Horatio 119 Newman, John Henry (Cardinal) . . . 615 Nicholas II. and Family, (Czar of Russia) 257 O'Brien, William 258 Oscar II., (King of Sweden and Norway) 229 Otis, Elwell S 498 Parnell, Charles Stewart 258 Parton, James 420 Pasteur, Louis, in his Laboratory . . . 576 Peary, Lieutenant R. E 522 Phillips, Wendell 410 Pitt, William, (Earl of Chatham) ... 139 Pius IX., (Pope) 130 Prescott, William H. . . 420 FAGI Reid, Whitelaw 476 Rios, Montero 497 Roosevelt, Theodore 498 Ruskin, John 129 Sagasta, Praxedes Mateo ....... 497 Sampson, William T 487 Schley, Winfield Scott 487 Scott, Sir Walter 95 Shafter, William R 488 Shah of Persia 150 Shaw, Albert W 476 Shelley, Percy B 589 Sherman, William T 445 Spurgeon, Charles H 616 Stanley, Henry M 522 Stephenson, George . 539 Stevenson, Robert Louis . 149 Sultan of Turkey 159 Taylor, Zachary 409 Tennyson, Alfred 589 Thackeray, William Makepeace .... 95 Thiers, Louis Adolphe 230 Thompson, Hon. J. S. D 521 Tolstoi, Count Lyof Nikolaievitch . . . 603 Trollope, Anthony 95 Tupper, Sir Charles 521 Victor Emmanuel (King of Italy) ... 199 Victoria (Queen of England) 140 Wallace, General Lew 307 Watson, John (Ian Maclaren) .... 616 Watson, John Crittenden 487 Watt, James 120 Watterson, Henry W 476 Webster, Daniel 410 Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, (Duke) , 119 Wheeler, Joseph 498 Whittier, John G 590 William I. , Emperor of Germany . . . 209 William II., Emperor of Germany . . . .209 Wordsworth, William 589 BATTLE OF CHATEAU-GONTIER (Reign of Terror. 1792) INTRODUCTION. IT is the story of a hundred years that we propose to give ; the record of the noblest and most marvelous century in the annals of mankind. Standing here, at the: dawn of the Twentieth Century, as at the summit }f a lofty peak of time, we may gaze far backward over the road we have traversed, losing sight of its minor incidents, but seeing its great events loom ip in startling prominence before our eyes ; 1 , of its thronging mil- lions, but proud of those mighty men who have made the history of the and rise like giants above the common throng. History is made up of the deeds of great men and the movements of grand events, and there is no better or clearer way to tell the marvelous story of the Nineteenth ( tury than to put upon record the deeds of its heroes and I ribe the events and achievements in which reside the true history of the : First of all, in this review, it is important to show in what the great- ness of the century consists, to contrast its beginning and its ending, and point out the stages of the magnificent pr it has made. It is one thing to declare that the Nineteenth has been l glorious of the centuries ; it is another and more task to trace tl elop- ment of this greatness and the culmination of this career of glory. This it is that we shall endeavor to do in the pages of this work. All of us have lived in the century here described, many of us through a art of it, some of us, possibly, through the whole of it. It is in the full ise our own century, one of which we have a just right to feel proud, and in whose career all of us must take a deep and vital interest. iore entering upon the history of the agfe it is well to take a birds-eye view oi it, and briefly present its claims to Eye view greatness. They are many and mighty, and can only beglani at in these introductory pages; it would need volumes to show them in full. They cover every held of human effort. They have to do with political development, the relations of capital and labor, invention, science, literature, production, commerce, ami a dozen other life interests, all of which will be considered in this work. The greatness of the world's progress can be most clearly shown by pointing out the state of affairs in the several 23 24 INTRODUCTION branches of human effort at the opening and closing of the century and placing them in sharp contrast. This it is proposed to do in this introduc- tory sketch. A hundred years ago the political aspect of the world was remarkably different from what it is now. Kings, many of them, were tyrants ; peoples, as a rule, were slaves — in fact, if not in name. The absolute government of the Middle Ages had been in a measure set aside, but the throne had _ still immense power, and between the kingfs and the nobles Tyranny and r ° oppression in the people were crushed like grain between the upper and the Eighteenth ne ther millstones. Tyranny spread widely ; oppression was rampant ;- poverty was the common lot ; comfort was confined to the rich ; law was merciless ; punishment for trifling offences was swift and cruel ; the broad sentiment of human fellowship had just begun to develop ; the sun of civilization shone only on a narrow region of the earth, beyond which barbarism and savagery prevailed. In 1800, the government of the people had just fairly begun. Europe had two small republics, Switzerland and the United Netherlands, and in the West the republic of the United States was still in its feeble youth. The so-called republic of France was virtually the kingdom of Napoleon, the autocratic First Consul, and those which he had founded elsewhere were the slaves of his imperious will. Government almost everywhere was autocratic and arbitrary. In Great Britain, the freest of the monarchies, the king's will could still set aside law and justice in many instances and parliament represented only a tithe of the people. Not only was universal suffrage unknown, but some of the greatest cities of the kingdom had no voice in making the laws. Government and ^ n I 9°°' a century later, vast changes had taken place the Rights of in the political world. The republic of the United States an in 1900 j^d g rown f ro m a feeble infant into a powerful giant, and its free system of government had spread over the whole great continent of, America. Every independent nation of the West had become a republic and Canada, still a British colony, was a republic in almost everything but >the name. In Europe, France was added to the list of firmly-founded republics, and throughout that continent, except in Russia and Turkey, the power of the monarchs had declined, that of the jDeople had advanced. In 1800, the kings almost everywhere seemed firmly seated on their thrones. In 1900, the thrones everywhere were shaking, and the whole moss-grown institution of kingship was trembling over the rising earthquake of the popular will. The influence of the people in the government had made a marvelous TNTRODUCTIi 25 advance. The right of suffrage, greatly restricted in 1S00, had become universal in most of the civilized lands at the century's end. Throughout the American continent every male citizen had the right of voting. The same was the case in most of western Europe, and even in far-off Japan, which a century before had been held under a seemingly help- guffrageand less tyranny. Human slavery, which held captive millions Human upon millions of men and women in 1S00, had vanished from ru '" m the realms of civilization in 1900, and a vigorous effort was being made to banish it from every region of the earth. As will be seen from this hasty retrospect, the rights of man had made a wonderful advance during the century, far greater than in any other century of human history. In the feeling of human fellowship, the sentiment of sympathy and benevolence, the growth of altruism, or love for mankind, there had been an equal progress. At the beginning of the century law was stern, justice severe, punishment frightfully cruel. Small offences met with severe retri- bution. .Men were hung for a dozen crimes which now call for only a light punishment. Thefts which are now thought severely punished CrlmIlin , Law by .1 year or two in prison then often led to the >ld. and Prison Men are hung now, in the most enlightened nations, only for Discipline m murder. Then they were hung for fifty crimes, some so slight as to seem petty. A father could not steal a loaf of bread for his starving children except at peril of a long term of imprisonment, or, possibly, of death on the scaffold. And imprisonment then was a different affair from what it is now. The prisons of that day were often horrible deiis, noisome, filthy, swarming with vermin, their best rooms unfit for human r< their worst dungeons a hell upon earth. This not only in the less advanced nations, but even in enlightened England. Newgate Prison, in London, for instance, was a sink of iniquity, its inmates given over to the cruel hands of ruthless gaolers, forced to pay a high price for the least privilege, and treated worse than brute cattle if destitute of money and friends. And these were not alone felons who had broken some of the man)' criminal laws, but men whose guilt was not yet proved, and poor debtors whose only crime was their mis- fortune. And all this in England, with its boast of high civilization. The people were not ignorant of the condition of the prisons ; Parliament was appealed to a dozen times to remedy the horrors of the jails; yet many years passed before it could be induced to act. Compare this state of criminal law and prison discipline with that of the present day. Then cruel punishments were inflicted for small offences; now the lightest punishments compatible with the well-being of the com- 26 INTRODUCTION munity are the rule. The sentiment of human compassion has become strong and compelling ; it is felt in the courts as well as among the people ; public opinion has grown powerful, and a punishment to-day too severe for the Prisons and crime would be visited with universal condemnation. The Punishment treatment of felons has been remarkably ameliorated. The in 1900 modern prison is a palace as compared with that of a century ago. The terrible jail fever which swept through the old-time prisons like a pestilence, and was more fatal to their inmates than the gallows, has been stamped out. The idea of sanitation has made its way into the cell and the dungeon, cleanliness is enforced, the frightful crowding of the past is not permitted, prisoners are given employment, they are not permitted to infect one another with vice or disease, kindness instead of cruelty is the rule, and in no direction has the world made a greater and more radical advance. A century ago labor was sadly oppressed. The factory system had recently begun. The independent hand and home work of the earlier cen- turies was being replaced by power and machine work. The System°and the steam-engine and the labor-saving machine, while bringing Oppression of blessings to mankind, had brought curses also. Workmen the Working- were crowded into factories and mines, and were poorly paid, ill-treated, ill-housed, over-worked. Innocent little chil- dren were forced to perform hard labor when they should have been at play or at school. The whole system was one of white slavery of the most oppressive kind. To-day this state of affairs no longer exists. Wages have risen, the hours of labor have decreased, the comfort of the artisan has grown, what were once luxuries beyond his reach have now become necessaries of life- Young children are not permitted to work, and older ones not beyond their strength. With the influences which have brought this about we are not here concerned. Their consideration must be left to a later chapter. It is enough here to state the important development that has taken place. Perhaps the greatest triumph of the nineteenth century has been in the domain of invention. For ages past men have been aiding the work of their hands with the work of their brains. But the progress of invention continued slow and halting, and many tools centuries old were in common use until the nineteenth century dawned. The steam-engine came earlier, and it is this which has stimulated all the rest. A power was given to man enormously greater than that of his hands, and he at once began to devise means of applying it. Several of the important machines used in manufac- ture were invented before 1800, but it was after that year that the great era INTRODUCTION of invention began, and words are hardly strong enough to express the marvelous progress which has since taken place. To attempt to name- all the inventions of the nineteenth The Era ef century would be like writing a dictionary. Those ol Wonderful importance might be named by the hundreds ; those which inventions have proved making by the dozens. To manufacture, to agriculture, to commerce, to all fields of human labor, they extend, and their name is legion. Standing on the summit of this century and looking backward, its beginning appears pitifully poor and meager. Around us to-day are hun- dreds of busy workshops, filled with machinery, pouring out finished prod- ucts with extraordinary speed, men no longer makers of goods, but waiters upon machines. In the fields the grain is planted and harvested, the grass cut and gathered, the ground ploughed and cultivated, everything done by machines. Looking hack for a century, what do we see? Men in the fields with the scythe and the sickle, in the barn with the flail, working the ground with rude old ploughs and harrows, doing a hundred things painfully by hand which now they do easily and rapidly by machines. Verily the rate of progress on the farm has been marvel The above are only a few of the directions of the century's progress. In some we may name, the development has been more extraordinary still. Let us consider the remarkable advance in methods of travel In the year 1800, as for hundreds and even thousands of years before, the horse was the tautest means known of traveling by land, the sail of traveling by sea. \ hundred years more have passed over our heads, and what do TheFateof me we behold ? On all sides the powerful and swift locomotive, Horse and the well named the iron-horse, rushes onward, bound for the ends of ^ ai1 the earth, hauling men and goods to right and left with a spied and strength that would have seemed magical to our forefathers. On the ocean the steam engine performs the same service, carrying great ships across the Atlantic in less than a week, and laughing at the puny efforts of the sail. The horse, for ages indispensible to man, is threatened with banishment. Electric power has been added to that of steam. The automobile carriage is coming to take the place of the horse carriage. The steam plough is replacing the horse plough. The time seems approaching when the horse will cease to be seen in our streets, and may bo relegated to the zoological garden. In the conveyance of news the development is more like magic than fact. A century ago news could not be transported faster than the horse could run or the ship could sail. Now the words of men can be carried through space faster than one can breathe. By the aid of the telephone a man can speak to his friend a thousand miles away. And with the phono- 28 INTRODUCTION graph we can, as it were, bottle up speech, to be spoken, if desired, a thous- 1 and years in the future. Had we whispered those things to our forefathers! of a century past we should have been set down as wild romancers or insane j fools, but now they seem like every-day news. These are by no means all the marvels of the century. At its begin j ning the constitution of the atmosphere had been recently discovered I In the preceding period it was merely known as a mysterious gas called airl To-day we can carry this air about in buckets like so much water, or freeze! it into a solid like ice. In its gaseous state it has long been used as the power to move ships and windmills. In its liquid state it may also soon become a leading source of power, and in a measure replace steam, the great! power of the century before. In what else does the beginning of the twentieth stand far in advance of that of the nineteenth century ? We may contrast the tallow candle with the electric light, the science of to-day with that of a century] education Dis» a S°> tne methods and the extension of education and the covery and dissemination of books with those of the year 1800. Discovery and colonization of the once unknown regions of the world have gone on with marvelous speed. The progress in mining has been! enormous, and the production of gold in the nineteenth century perhaps surpasses that of all previous time. Production of all kinds has enormously j increased, and commerce now extends to the utmost regions of the earth,] bearing the productions of all climes to the central seats of civilization, and supplying distant and savage tribes with the products of the loom and the mine. Such is a hasty review of the condition of affairs at the end of the! nineteenth century as compared with that existing at its beginning. No effort has been made here to cover the entire field, but enough has been said to show the greatness of the world's progress, and we may fairly speak of this century as the Glorious Nineteenth, CHAPTER I. The Threshold of the Century. AFTER its long carter of triumph and disaster, glory and shame, the world stands to-day at the end of an old and the beginning of a 1. century, looking forward with hope and backward with pride, for it has just completed the most wonderful hundred years it has ever known, and has laid a noble foundation for the twentieth century now at its dawn. There can be no more fitting- time than this to review the marvi progress of the closing century through a portion of which The Age we Live all of us have lived, many of us through a great portion of in and its it. Some of the greatest of its events have taken place before reat vents our own eyes in some of them many now living have borne a part , to picture them again to our mental vision cannot fail to be of interest and profit to us all. When, after a weary climb, we find ourselves on the summit of a lofty mountain, and look back from that commanding altitude over the ground we have traversed, what is it that we behold ? The minor details of the scenery, many of which seemed large and important to us as we passed, are now lost to view, and we see only the great and imposing features of the landscape, the high elevations, the town-studded valleys, the deep and winding streams, the broad forests It is the same when, from the summit of an age, we ga/e backward over the plain of time. The myriad of petty happenings are lost to sight, and we sec only the striking events, the critical epochs, the mighty crises through which the world has passed. True History These are the things that make true history, not the daily and the Things doings in the king's palace or the peasant's hut. What we should seek to observe and store up in our memories are the turning points in human events, the great thoughts which have ripened into noble di the hands of might which have pushed the world forward in its career; not the trilling occurrences which signify nothing, the passing actions which have borne no fruit in human affairs. It is with such turning points, critical periods in the history of the nineteenth century, that this work pro- poses to deal ; not to picture the passing bubbles on the stream of tim< to point out the great ships which have sailed up that stream laden 3 34 THE THRESHOLD Of THE CENTURY with a noble freight. This is history in its deepest and best aspect, and we have set our camera to photograph only the men who have made and the events which constitute this true history of the nineteenth century. On the threshold of the century with which we have to deal two grand* events stand forth ; two of those masterpieces of political evolution which mold the world and fashion the destiny of mankind. These are, in the Eastern hemisphere, the French Revolution ; in the Western hemisphere, the American Revolution and the founding of the republic of the United Two of the States. In the whole history of the world there are no events World's Great= that surpass these in importance, and they may fitly be dwelt upon as main foundation stones in the structure we are seek- ing to build. The French Revolution shaped the history of Europe for nearly a quarter century after 1800. The American Revolution shaped the history of America for a still longer period, and is now beginning to shape the history of the world. It is important therefore that we dwell on those two events sufficiently to show the part they have played in the history of the age. Here, however, we shall confine our attention to the Revolution in France. That in America must be left to the American section of our work. The Mediaeval Age was the age of Feudalism, that remarkable system of government based on military organization which held western Europe rhe Feudal Sys= captive for centuries. The State was an army, the nobility tem and its its captains and generals, the king its commander-in-chief, the people its rank and file. As for the horde of laborers, they were hardly considered at all. They were the hewers of wood and drawers of water for the armed and fighting class, a base, down-trodden, enslaved' multitude, destitute of rights and privileges, their only mission in the world to provide food for and pay taxes to their masters, and often doomed to starve in the midst of the food which their labor produced. France, the country in which the Feudal system had its birth, was the country in which it had the longest lease of life. It came down to the verge of the nineteenth century with little relief from its terrible exactions. We see before us in that country the spectacle of a people steeped in misery, crushed by tyranny, robbed of all political rights, and without a voice to make their sufferings known ; and of an aristocracy lapped in luxury, proud, vain, insolent, lavish with the people's money, ruthless with the people's blood, and blind to the spectre of retribution which rose higher year by year before their eyes. One or two statements must suffice to show the frightful injustice that prevailed. The nobility and the Church, those who held the bulk of the wealth of the community, were relieved of all taxation, the whole burden of THE THRESHOLD OF THE RY which fell upon the mercantile and laborin unfair exaction that threatened to crush industry out of ex - And to picture the condition of the peasantry, the tyranny of the feudal customs, it will serve to n the oft-told tale of the peasants who, after their day's hard labor in the fields, were forced l ids all night long in order to silence the croaking of the frogs that disturb' e noble lady's slumbers. Nothing need be added to these two instance's to show the oppression under which the people of France lay during the 1 era of Feudalism. This era of injustice and oppression reached its climax in The Climax of the closing years of the eighteenth century, and went down at feudalism in length in that hideous nightmare of blood and terror known as the French Revolution. Frightful as this was, it was unavoidable. The pride and privilege of the aristocracy had the people by the throat, and only the sword or the guillotine could loosen their hold. In this terrible instance the guillotine did the work. It was the need of money for the spendthrift throne that pre the Revolution. For years the indignation of the peopl grow ing and spreading ; for years the authors of tl Iding luel to the flame. The voices of Voltaire, Rousseau and a dozen others hail ] d in advocacy of the rights of man, and the people were growing daily more restive under their load. But still the lavish waste of money wrung from the hunger and sweat of the people went on, until the king and his advisers found their coffers empty and were without hope of filling them without a direct appeal to the nation at la It was in 1788 that the fatal step was taken. Louis XVI, Kin France, called a session of the States General, the Parliament xhe states ot the kingdom, which had not met for more than a hundred QeneraUs years. This body was composed of thr< pre- sentatives ^<\ the nobility, of the church, and of the people. In all earlier instances they had been docile to the mandate of the throne, and the mon- arch, blind to the signs of the time thought but that this assembly would vote him the money he asked for, fix by law a system of taxation his future supply, and dissolve at his command. 1 le was ignorant of the temper of the people. They had been given a voice at last, and wen- sure to take the opportunity to speak their mind. Their representatives, known as the Third Estate, were made up of bold, earnest, indignant men, who asked for bread and were not to be put oil with a crust. They were twice as numerous as the representatives ot the nobles and the clergy, and thus held control of the situation. They were ready to support the throne, but refused to vote a penny until the crying 3 6 THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY evils of the State were reformed. They broke loose from the other two Estates, established a separate parliament under the name of the National Assembly, and begun that career of revolution which did not cease until it had brought monarchy to an end in France and set all Europe aflame. The court sought to temporize with the engine of destruction which it had called into existence, prevaricated, played fast and loose, and with every false move riveted the fetters of revolution more tightly round its neck. In July, 1789, the people of Paris took a hand in the game. They rose and destroyed the Bastille, that grim and terrible State The Fall of prison into which so many of the best and noblest of France the Bastille r J ..... had been cast at the pleasure of the monarch and his min- isters, and which the people looked upon as the central fortress of their oppression and woe. With the fall of the Bastille discord everywhere broke loose, the spirit of the Revolution spread from Paris through all France, and the popular Assembly, now the sole law-making body of the State, repealed the oppres- sive laws of which the people complained, and with a word overturned abuses many of which were a thousand years old. It took from the nobles their titles and privileges, and reduced them to the rank of simple citizens. It confiscated the vast landed estates of the church, which embraced nearly one-third of France. It abolished the tithes and the unequal taxes, which had made the clergy and nobles rich and the people poor. At a later date, in the madness of reaction, it enthroned the Goddess of Reason and sought to abolish religion and all the time-honored institutions of the past. The Revolution grew, month by month and day by clay. New and more radical laws were passed ; moss-grown abuses were swept away in an hour's sitting ; the king, who sought to escape, was seized and held as a hostage ; and war was boldly declared against Austria and Prussia, which showed a disposition to interfere. In November, 1792, the French army gained a brilliant victory at Jemmapes, in Belgium, which eventually led to the conquest of that kingdom by France. It was the first important event in the career of victory which in the coming years was to make France glorious in the annals of war. King and Queen The hostility of the surrounding nations added to the Under the revolutionary fury in France. Armies were marching to the rescue of the king, and the unfortunate monarch was seized, reviled and insulted by the mob, and incarcerated in the prison called the Temple. The queen, Marie Antoinette, daughter of the Emperor of Austria, was likewise haled from the palace to the prison. In the following year, 1793, king and queen alike were taken to the guillotine and their NAPOLEON CROSSING THE ALPS Tbe TanXonlnl™' l™? 1 , "?^ S an ""^ acr ° ss < he '° ft y and fr ° z ^ P™«» °> «>e Alps, was emulated r Napoleon in 1800 when he led his army across the St. Bernard Pass, descended like a torrent on the Austnans in Italy, and defeated them in the great battle of Marengo- THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY royal heads fell into the fatal basket. The Revolution nsummated, the monarchy was at an end, France had fallen into mds of the ile, and from them it descended into the hands ol a ruthless and blood- thirsty r At the head of this mob of revolutionists stood three men, Danton, Marat, and Robespierre, the triumvirate of the Reign of Terror, under which all safety ceased in France, and all thosi ainst whom the least breath ol suspicion arose'. d into Terror prison, from which hosts of them made their way to the dnadful knife of the guillotine. Multitudes of the rich and noble had fled from France, among them Lafayette, the friend and aid of Washington in the American Revolution, and Talleyrand, the acute statesman who was to play a prominent part in later French history. Marat, the most savage of the triumvirate, was slain in July, 1793. by the knife of Charlotte Corday, a young woman of pious training, who offered herself as the instrument of God for the removal of this infamous monster. I I is death rather added to than stayed the tide of blood, and in April, 1794. Danton, who sought to check its flow, fella victim to his ferocious associate. Rut the Reign of Terror was nearing its vnd. In July the Assembly awoke from its stupor of fear. Robespierre was denounced, seized, and executed, and the' frightful carnival of bloodshed came to an end. The work of the National Assembly had been fully consummated, Feudalism was at an end, monarchy in France had ceased and a republic had taken its place, and a new era for Europe had dawned. Meanwhile a foreign war was being waged. England had TheWarsof formed! a coalition with most of tin- nations of Europe, and the i : reuch France was threatened by land with the troops of Holland, Prussia, Austria, Spain and Portugal, and by sea with the: fleet of Great Britain. The incompetency of her assailants saved her from destruction. Her generals who lost battles were sent to prison or to the guillotine, the whole country rose as onr man in defence, and a number of brilliant victor- ies drove her enemies from her borders and gave the armies ol France a position beyond the Rhine. These wars soon brought a great man to the front, Napoleon Bona- parte, a son of Corsica, with whose nineteenth century career we shall deal at Length in the following chapters, but of whose earlier exploits some- thing must In- said here. His career fairly began in 1794, when, under the Orders of the National Convention —the successor of the National Assembly — he quelled the mob in the streets of Paris with loaded cannon and put a final end to the Terror which had so long prevailed. 4 o THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY Placed at the head of the French army in Italy, he quickly astonished the world by a series of the most brilliant victories, defeating the Austrians and the Sardinians wherever he met them, seizing Venice, the city of the lagoon, and forcing almost all Italy to submit to hjs arms. A republic was established here and a new one in Switzerland, while Belgium and the left bank of the Rhine were held by France. Napoleon in His wars here at an end, Napoleon's ambition led him to Italy and Egypt, inspired by great designs which he failed to realize. syp * In his absence anarchy arose in France. The five Directors, then at the head of the Government, had lost all authority, and Napoleon, who had unexpectedly returned, did not hesitate to overthrow them and the Assembly which supported them. A new government, with three Consuls at its head, was formed, Napoleon as First Consul holding almost royal power. Thus France stood in 1800, at the end of the Eighteenth Century. In the remainder of Europe there was nothing to compare with the momentous convulsion which had taken place in France. England had gone through its two revolutions more than a century before, and its people were the freest of any in Europe. Recently it had lost its colonies in America, but it still held in that continent the broad domain of Canada, and was building for itself a new empire in India, while founding colonies in twenty other lands. In commerce and manufactures it entered the nine- r. „ teenth century as the greatest nation on the earth. The England as a J & Centre of hammer and the loom resounded from end to end of the industry and island, mighty centres of industry arose where cattle had Commerce. . . . 1 1 • 1 • grazed a century beiore, coal and iron were being torn in great quantities from the depths of the earth, and there seemed everywhere an endless bustle and whirr. The ships of England haunted all seas and visited the most remote ports, laden with the products of her workshops and bringing back raw material for her factories and looms. Wealth accumu- lated, London became the money market of the world, the riches and pros- perity of the island kingdom were growing to be a parable among the nations of the earth. On the continent of Europe, Prussia, which has now grown so great, had recently emerged from its mediaeval feebleness, mainly under the powerful hand of Frederick the Great, whose reign extended until 1786, and whose ambition, daring, and military genius made him a fitting predecessor of Napoleon the Great, who so soon succeeded him in the annals of war. Unscrupulous in his aims, this warrior king had torn Silesia from Austria, added to his kingdom a portion of unfortunate Poland, annexed the princi- THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURA \\ pality of Easl I ri< sland, and lifted Prussia into a l< position among the European stat< Germany, now with the exception of Austria— a compact The Condition empire, was then a scries of disconnected variously oftheGerman known as kingdoms, principalities, mar; lectorati and by other titles, the whole forming the so-called Holy Empire, though it was " neither holy nor an empire." It had drifted down in this fashion from the Middle Ages, and the work of consolidation had but just begun, in the conquests of Frederick the Great. A host of petty potentates rul the land, whose slates, aside from Prussia and Austria, were too weak to have a voice in the councils of Europe. Joseph II., the- titular >r of Germany, made an earnest and vigorous effort to combine its elements into a powerful unit; hut he signally failed, and died in 1 790, a disappointed and embittered man. Austria, then far the most powerful of the (ierman stairs, was from 1740 to 1780 under the reign of a woman, Maria Theresa, who strug in vain against her ambitious neighbor, Frederick the Great, his kingdom being extended ruthlessly at tin- expense of her imperial dominions. Austria remained a great country, however, including Bohemia and Hun- gary among its domains. It was lord of Lombard) and Venice in Italy, and was destined to play an important but unfortunate part in the coming Napoleonic wars. The peninsula of Italy, the central seat of the great Roman Empire, was, at the opening of the nineteenth century, as sadly broken u] Germany, a do/en weak states taking tin- place of the one strong one that ood of the people demanded. The independent cities of the medi period no longer held sway, and we hear no more of wars between Morence, Genoa, Milan, bisa and Rome; but the country was still made up of minor s- Lombardy, Venice and Sardinia in the north, Naples DJssei)S | 0n |„ in the south, Rome in the centre, and various smaller kin;.;-- Italy and doms ami dukedoms between. The peninsula was 1 prey to turmoil ami dissension. Germany and France had made it their fighting ground for centuries, Spain had idled the south with her armies, and the country had been miserably torn and rent by these frequent wars and those bet v. tte and state, and was in a condition to welcome the coming of Napoleon, whose strong hand for the time promised the Me sill;; .1! ]m ,k , .ind UllioU. Spain, not many centuries 1 efor the greatest nation in Europe, and, as such, the greatest nation on the elobe, had miserably declined in power and place at the opening of the nineteenth century. Under the or Charles I, 42 THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY it had been united with Germany, while its colonies embraced two-thirds of the great continent of America. Under Philip II. it continued power- ful in Europe, but with his death its decay set in. Intolerance checked its growth in civilization, the gold brought from America was swept away by more enterprising states, its strength was sapped by a succession of fee- ble monarchs, and from first place it fell into a low rank among the nations of Europe. It still held its vast colonial area, but this proved a source of weakness rather than of strength, and the people of the colonies, exasper- ated by injustice and oppression, were ready for the general revolt which was soon to take place. Spain presented the aspect of a great nation ruined by its innate vices, impoverished by official venality and the decline of industry, and fallen into the dry rot of advancing decay. Of the nations of Europe which had once played a prominent part, one _. r, .... , was on the point of being swept from the map. The name of The Partition of r & r l Poland by the Poland, which formerly stood for a great power, now stands Robber Na- only for a great crime. The misrule of the kings, the turbu- lence of the nobility, and the enslavement of the people had brought that state into such a condition of decay that it lay like a rotten log amid the powers of Europe. The ambitious nations surrounding— Russia, Austria, and Prussia — took advantage of its weakness, and in 1772 each of them seized the portion of Poland that bordered on its own territories. In the remainder of the king- dom the influence of Russia grew so great that the Russian ambassador at Warsaw became the real ruler in Poland. A struggle against Russia began in 1792, Kosciusko, a brave soldier who had fought under Washington in America, being at the head of the patriots. But the weakness of the king tied the hands of the soldiers, the Polish patiiots left their native land in despair, and in the following year Prussia and Russia made a further division of the state, Russia seizing a broad territory with more than 3,000,- 000 inhabitants. In 1794 a new outbreak began. The patriot? returned ana! a desperate struggle took place. But Poland was doomed. Suvoroff, the greatest of the Russian generals, swept the land with fire and sword. Kosciusko fell wounded, crying, " Poland's end has come," and Warsaw was taken and desolated by its assailants. The patriot was right ; the end had come. What remained of Poland was divided up between Austria, Prussia, and Russia, and only a name remained. There are two others of the powers of Europe of which we must speak, Russia and Turkey. Until th » seventeenth century Russia had been a do- main of barbarians, weak and disunited, and for a long period the vassal of THE THRESHOLD OF THE CENTURY 43 the /age M il conquerors of Asia. Under Peter the Great 11689- 1725) it rose into power ami prominence, took its place among civilized and began thai of conquest and expan- "r sl j' an sion which is still going on. At the end of t nth century it was under the rule of Catharine IL, often miscalled Catharine the Great, who died in 1706. just as Napoleon was beginning hi r. Her greatness lay in the ability of her generals, who defeated dirkey and con- qui red the Crimea, and wh eater part of Poland to her empire. Iler strength of mind and decision of character were not shared by her successor, Paul I., and Russia entered the nineteenth century under the weakest sovereign ol the Romanoff line. Turkey, once the terror of Europe, and sending its armies into the heart of Austria, was now confined within the boundaries it had long before won. and had begun its long struggle for exi .vith its powerful neighbor Russia. At the beginning of the nineteenth century it was still a powerful state, with a wide domain in Europe, and continued to defy the Christians who coveted its territory and sought its overthrow. Bui the canker-worm of a weak and barbarous government was at its he-art, while its cruel treat; of its Christian subjects exasperated the strong powers oi Europe and invited their armed interference. As regards the world outside of Europe and America, no part of it had yet entered the. circle of modern civilization. Africa was an almost unknown continent; Asia was little better known; and the islands of the Eastern seas were still in process of discovery, [apan, which was approaching its period of manumission from barbarism, was still closed to the world, and China lay like a 'm: helpless bulk, fast in the fetters oi conservatism and blind self-sufficiency. CHAPTER II. Napoleon Bonaparte; The Man of Destiny. THE first fifteen years of the nineteenth century in Europe yield us the history of a man, rather than of a continent. France was the centre of Europe; Napoleon, the Corsican, was the centre of France. All the affairs of all the nations seemed to gather around this genius of war. He was respected, feared, hated ; he had risen with the suddenness of a thunder- cloud on a clear horizon, and flashed the lightnings of victory in the dazzled eyes of the nations. All the events of the period were concentrated into one great event, and the name of that event was Napoleon. He seemed incarnate war, organized destruction ; sword in hand he dominated the nations, and victory sat on his banners with folded wings. He was, in a full sense, the man of destiny, and Europe was his prey. Never has there been a more wonderful career. The earlier great conquerors began life at the top ; Napoleon began his at the A Remarkable ^ & . ' . Man and a bottom. Alexander was a king ; Csesar was an aristocrat of Wonderful tne Roman republic ; Napoleon rose from the people, and O'l reef* was not even a native of the land which became the scene of his exploits. Pure force of military genius lifted him from the lowest to the highest place among mankind, and for long and terrible years Europe shuddered at his name and trembled beneath the tread of his marching legions. As for France, he brought it glory, and left it ruin and dismay. We have briefly epitomized Napoleon's early career, his doings in the Revolution, in Italy, and in Egypt, unto the time that France's worship of his military genius raised him to the rank of First Consul, and gave him in effect the power of a king. No one dared question his word, the army was at his beck and call, the nation lay prostrate at his feet — not in fear but in admiration. Such was the state of affairs in France in the closing year of the eighteenth century. The Revolution was at an end ; the Republic existed only as a name ; Napoleon was the autocrat of France and the terror of Europe. From this point we resume the story of his career. The First Consul began his reign with two enemies in the field, The Enemies England and Austria. Prussia was neutral, and he had won and Friends of the friendship of Paul, the emperor of Russia, by a shrewd move. While the other nations refused to exchange the Russian prisoners they held. Napoleon sent home 6,000 of these captives, (44) NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAS i '/■ DESTINY newly clad and armed, under their own leaders, and without demanding ransom. This was enough to win to his side the weak-minded Paul, whose delight in soldiers he well knew. Napoleon now had but two enemies in inns to deal with. He wrote letters to the king of England and the emperor of Austria, offerin The answers wen; cold and insulting, asking I to take back her Bour- bon kings and return to her old boundaries. Nothing remained but war. Napoleon prepared for it with his usual rapidity, judgment. There were' two French armies in the field in the spring of 1800, More in commanding in Germany, Massena in Italy. Switzerland, which occupied by the French, divided the armies of the enemy, and Napo- leon determined to take advantage oi the separation of their forces, and strike an overwhelming blow. He sent word to Moreau and Massena to keep the enemy in check at any cost, and secretly gathered a third army, whose corps were dispersed here and there, while the powers of Europe aware only of the army of reserve at Dijon, made up of conscripts and invalids. Meanwhile the armies in Italy and Germany were doing their best to obey orders. Massena was attacked by the Austrians before „ J ... Movements of he could concentrate his troops, his army was cut in two, and the Armies In he was forced to fall back upon Genoa, in which city he was Germany and closely I d, with a fair prospect of being conquered l>y Starvation if not soon relieved. Moreau was more fortunate. lie defeated the Austrians in a series of battles ami drove them hack on Ulm, where he blockaded them in their camp. All was read)- for the great movement which Napoleon had in view. Twenty centuries before Hannibal had led his army across the great mountain harrier of the Alps, and poured down like an avalanche upon the fertile plains of Italy. The Corsican determined to repeat this brilliant vement and emulate Hannibal's career. Several passes across the mountains seemed favorable to his purpose, especially those of the St. Bernard, the Simplon and Mont Cenis. Of these the first was the most difficult ; but it was much the shorter, and Napoleon determined to lead the main body of his army over this ice-covered mountain pass, despite its dangers and difficulties. The enterprise was one 1 « . deter any man less bold than Hannibal or Napoleon, but it was welcome to the hardihood and daring of these men, who rejoiced in the seemingly imp and spurned at hardships and perils. The task of the Corsican was greater than that of the Carthaginian- 4* NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY He had cannon to transport, while Hannibal's men carried only swords and spears. But the genius of Napoleon was equal to the task. Crosses the The cannon were taken from their carriages and placed in the Alps at St. hollowed-out trunks of trees, which could be dragged with Bernard Pass r0 p es over the ice and snow, Mules were used to draw the gun-carriages and the wagon-loads of food and munitions of war. Stores of provisions had been placed at suitable points along the road. Thus prepared, Napoleon, on the 16th of May, 1800, began his remark able march, while smaller divisions of the army were sent over the Simplon, the St. Gothard and Mont Cenis passes. It was an arduous enterprise. The mules proved unequal to the task given to them ; the peasants refused to aid in this severe work ; the soldiers were obliged to harness themselves to the cannon, and drag them by main strength over the rocky and ice- covered mountain path. The First Consul rode on a mule at the head of the rear-guard, serene and cheerful, chatting with his guide as with a friend, and keeping up the courage of the soldiers by his own indomitable spirit. A few hours' rest at the hospice of St. Bernard, and the descent was begun, an enterprise even more difficult than the ascent. For five days the dread journey continued, division following division, corps succeeding corps. The point of greatest peril was reached at Aosta, where, on a precipitous rock, stood the little Austrian fort of Bard, its artillery commanding the narrow defile. It was night when the vanguard reached this threatening spot. It was passed in dead silence, tow being wrapped round the wheels of the carriages and a layer of straw and refuse spread on the frozen ground, while the troops followed a narrow path over the neighboring mountains. By day- break the passage was made and the danger at an end. The sudden appearance of the French in Italy was an utter surprise to the Austrians. They descended like a torrent into the valley, seized Ivry, and five days after reaching Italy met and repulsed an Austrian force. The divisions which had crossed by other passes one by one joined The Situation Napoleon. Melas, the Austrian commander, was warned of in Italy r " the danger that impended, but refused to credit the seemingly preposterous story. His men were scattered, some besieging Massena, in Genoa, some attacking Suchet on the Var. His danger was imminent, for Napoleon, leaving Massena to starve in Genoa, had formed the design of annihilating the Austrian army at one tremendous blow. The people of Lombardy, weary of the Austrian yoke, and hoping for liberty under the rule of France, received the new-comers with transport, and lent them what aid they could. On June 9th, Marshall Lannes met fa D 3 r; o -■ s » * - > x'- !s = a.'_.3- ►> a n S " '• -I 2 ?g i |"= n g-3 o CD £•£*" > o-S-o H „.«-,_, > s 3- r J»o PI lis: o 3gf -• < S" a ero/n — O n o < O A.B O S?» r ft n o 3- 19 4g o 5 §5 If M 3 1 51 z if Oil u "v. x-s" U .<£ a S o s-* ° 5 ii t - » UI — " z £5 5 fi-a Sit as w ii < -s ° S 9 r 1 " 5 > « X-2 X BONAPAXTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY and defeated the Austrians at Montebello, aftei a hot engagement. "I heard the hones crackle like a hailstorm on the roofs," he said. < >n the 14th, the two armies met on the plain of Marengo, and one of the most famous of Napi 1I1 oil's l>at 1 in. Napoleon was not ready for the coming battle, and was taken by sur- prise. He had been obliged to break up his army in order to guard all the pas i en to the enemy. When he entered, on the 13th, the plain I tween the Scrivia and the Bormida, near the little village ol The lamous Marengo, he was ignorant of the movements of the Austri- Field of . and was not expecting the onset of Melas, who, on the following morning, crossed the Bormida by three bridges, and made a tierce assault upon the divisions of generals Victor and Lannes. Victor was vigor- ously attacked and driven hack, and Marengo was destroyed by the Aus- trian cannon. Lannes was surrounded by overwhelming numbers, and, right- ing furiously, was forced to retreat. In the heat of the battle Bonaparte reached the field with his guard and his staff, and found himself in the thick of the terrific affray and his army virtually beaten. 'The retreat continued. It was impossible to check it. The enemy pressed enthusiastically forward. The army was in imminent danger of being cut in two. But Napoleon, with obstinate persistance, kept up the fight, hoping for some change in the perilous situation. Melas, on the con- trary, — an old man, weary of his labors, and confident in the seeming vic- tory,— withdrew to his headquarters at Alessandria, whence he sent off despatches to the effect that the terrible Corsican had at length met defeat. H did not know his man. Napoleon sent an aide-de-camp in all haste after Desaix, one of his most trusted generals, who had just returned from Egypt, and who- , rps he had detached towards Novi. All depended upon his rapid return. Without Desaix the battle was lost. Fortunately the alert general did not wait fur the messenger. I lis ears caught the sound of distant cannon and. scenting danger, he marched back with the utmost speed. Napoleon met his welcome officer with eyes ol joy and hope. -Non see the situation," he said, rapidly explaining the state of affairs. " What is to be done ? " " It is a lost battle." ] >esaix replied. " But there are some A / EON St W. I/'. XRTE—THE MAN < >/•" DESTINY 55 Other plots wire organized, and Fouche, the police-agent of the time, was kept busy in seeking the plotters, for whom then- was .... 1 J . . r he Punish- briel mercy when found. a Moreau, the victor at ment of the Hohenlinden, accus otiating with tin- conspirators, Conspirators disgraced, :iled himself from France. Napoleon Bassination with his s< ■ emies with the same ruthless energy as oftheDuke le did with his foes in the Ik-Id of battle. d'EngMeii I lis rage at the attempts upon his life, indeed, took a form that has ally condemned. The I hike d'Enghien, a royalist French nobleman, grandson of the Prince of Conde, who was believed by Napoleon to be the soul of the royalist conspiracies, ventured too near th< France, and was seized in foreign territory, taken in haste to Paris, shot without form of law or a moment's opportunity for defence. The outrage excited the deepest indignation throughout Europe. No name was given it but murder, and the historians of to-day speak of the act by no other title The opinion of the world had little effect upon Napoleon. He was a law unto himself. The death of one man or of a thousand men weighed nothing to him where his safety or his ambition was concerned. Men were the pawns he in the great game of empire, and he heeded not how many of them \\ 50 that he won the game. culmination of his ambition came in [804, when the hope he had long secretly cherished, that of gaining the imperial dignity, was realized. He imitated the example of Caesar, the Roman conqueror, in ., ...... . iNapoleon seeking the rown as a reward for his victories, and was elected crowned emperor oi tin- French by an almost unanimous vote. That Emperor of the sanction of the church might be obtained for the new dignity, the Pope was constrained to come to Paris, ami there anointed him emperor on 1 )ecemb 1 ^04. 1'iie new emperor hastened to restore the old insignia of royalty. He surrounded himsell with a brilliant court, brought back the discarded titles of nobility, named the members ol his family princes and princesses, and 'it to banish every vestige i>i republican simplicity. Ten years before he had begun his career in the streets oi Paris by sweeping away with cannon-shot the mob that rose in support of the Reign of Terror. Now he had swept away the Republic of France and founded a French empire, with himself at its head as Napoleon I. But though royalty was restored, it was not a royalty of the old type. Feudalism was at an end. The revolution hail' d the last relics of that effete and abominable system and it was .in empire on new and modern 4 56 X. IPOLEON BONAPARTE— THE MAN OF DESTINY lines which Napoleon had founded, a royalty voted into existence by a free] people, not resting upon a nation of slaves. The new emperor did not seek to enjoy in leisure his new dignity. His restless mind impelled him to broad schemes of public improvement. He _. „ sousfht glory ; n peace as actively as in war. Important I The Oreat & & J l J . Ml works Devised changes were made in the management of the finances in order By the New to provide tb.e great sums needed for the government, the Emperor . . , , . . arm) - , anil the state. Vast contracts were made for road and canal building, and ambitious architectural labors were set in train. Churches! were erected, the Pantheon was completed, triumphal arches were built, two new bridges were thrown over the Seine, the Louvre was ordered to be i finished, the Bourse to be constructed, and a temple consecrated to the exploits of the army (now the church of the Madeleine) to be built. Thousands of workmen were kept busy in erecting these monuments to his glory, and all France resounded with his fame. Among the most important of these evidences of his activity of intellect was the formation of the Code Napoleon, the first organized code of French law, and still the basis of jurisprudence in France. First promulgated in iSoi, as the Civil Code of France, its title was changed to the Code Napoleon in 1804, and as such it stands as one of the greatest monuments raised by Napoleon to his glory. Thus the Consul, and subsequently the Emperor, usefully occupied himself in the brief intervals between his almost incessant wars. CHAPTER III. Europe in the G-rasp oi the Iron Hand. rl I E pi if Amiens, which for an interval left France without an ien enemy in ! . did not long continue. England failed to carry out i main provisions of this treaty, holding on to the Mand of Malta in despite of the French pn The feeling ; he two nations sunn grew bitter, and in [803 England again declared war [gainst France. William Pitt, the unyielding foe of Napoleon, came again o the head of the ministry in ind displayed all his old ... . . ',. • • it' England ICtlVltY 111 Organizing coalitions against the hat< ' I. Declares War ["he war thus declared was to last, so far as England was con- ferned, until Napoleon was driven from his throne. It was conducted 1>\ he English mainly through the aid of money paid to their European allies tnd the activity of their fleet. The British Chan mained an insuper- ible obstacle to Napoleon in his conflict with his island foe, and the utmost IE could do in the way of revenge was to launch his arm ainst the tllii . of Great Britain, and to occupy Hanover, the domain oi the English sing on the continent. This he hastened to I he immunity of his persistent enemy was more than the proud con- aieror felt disposed to endure. Hitherto he' had triumphed over all his in the field. Should these haughty islanders contemn his power and leiy his armies? II mined to play the role of William of Normandy, rabnturies before, ami attack them on their own shores. This design he had long entertained, and began actively to prepare tor as soon as war was red. An army was encamped at Boulogne, and a great Great p repara . repared to convey it across the narrow sea. The war tionsforthe thered was enormous in quantity; the army num- invasionol ° 1 ' r England I 000 men, with 10,000 horses; 1. inboats ol various kinds v. idy; only the support of the fleet was awaited to enable the crossing to be achieved in safety. We need not dwell further upon this great enterprise, since it failed to yield any result. The French admiral whose concurrence iended upon sick and died, and tl lition was necessarily postponed. ire new plans could be laid the ind. le l'itt hail succeeded in organizing a fresh coalition in Europe, and Napoleon found full employ- ment tor his army on the continent. (57) 5 8 EUROPE IN THE GRASPE OF THE IRON HAND In April, 1805, a treaty of alliance was made between England and | Russia. On the 9th of August, Austria joined this alliance. Sweden sub- j sequently gave in her adhesion, and Prussia alone remained neutral among | the great powers. But the allies were mistaken if they expected to take the astute Napoleon unawares. He had foreseen this combination, and, while keeping the eyes of all Europe fixed upon his great preparations at Boulogne, he was quietly but effectively laying his plans for the expected campaign. The Austrians had hastened to take the field, marching an army into | Bavaria and forcing the Elector, the ally of Napoleon, to fly from his capital. | The French emperor was seemingly taken by surprise, and apparently was in : no haste, the Austrians having made much progress before he left his palace at Saint Cloud. But meanwhile his troops were quietly but on' Austria rapidly in motion, converging from all points towards the Rhine, and by the end of September seven divisions of the army, commanded by Napoleon's ablest Generals, — Ney, Murat, Lannes, Soult and others, — -were across that stream and marching rapidly upon the enemy. Bernadotte led his troops across Prussian territory in disdain of the neutrality of that power, and thereby gave such offence to King Frederick William as to turn his mind decidedly in favor of joining the coalition. Early in October the French held both banks of the Danube, and before the month's end they had gained a notable triumph. Mack, one of the Austrian commanders, with remarkable lack of judgment, held his army in the fortress of Ulm while the swiftly advancing French were cutting off every avenue of retreat, and surrounding his troops. An extraordinary result followed. Ney, on the 14th, defeated the Austrians at Elchingen, cutting off Mack from the main army and shutting him up hopelessly in The Surrender Ulm. Five days afterwards the desparing and incapable of General general surrendered his army as prisoners of war. Twenty- three thousand soldiers laid their weapons and banners at Napoleon's feet and eighteen generals remained as prisoners in his hands. It was a triumph which in its way atoned for a great naval disaster which took place on the succeeding day, when Nelson, the English admiral, attacked and destroyed the whole French fleet at Trafalgar. The succeeding events, to the great battle that closed the campaign, may be epitomized. An Austrian army had been dispatched to Italy under the brave and able Archduke Charles. Here Marshal Massena commanded the French and a battle took place near Caldiero on October 30th. The Austrians fought stubbornly, but could not withstand the impetuosity of the French, and were forced to retreat and abandon northern Italy to Massena and his men. a S • a. 6-2 .Ha 4 Z 2a I- I- < 00 h 4 < H S rt- 5 "2 e2 en ^ EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IKON HAND 61 In the north the king of Prussia, furious at the violation of his neutral territory by the French under Bernadotte, gave fi the Russian ami Swedish troops, and formed a league of friendship with the Czar Alexander. He then dispatched his minister Haugwitz to Napoleon, with a demand that led a threat, requiring him, as a basis of peace, to restore the former treaties in Germany, Switzerland, Italy and Holland. With utter disregard of this demand N a advanced along the Danube towards the Austrian meeting and defeating the Austrians and Russians in a series of sanguinary conflicts. The Russian army was the most ably commanded, and its leader Kutusoff led it backward in slow but resolute retreat, fighting only when attacked. The French under Mortier were caught isolated on the left bank of the Danube, and fiercely assailed by the Russians, losing heavily before they could be reinfor Despite all resistance, the French continued to aba: ., . . . .... , , . The Advance Murat soon reaching and occupying Vienna, the Austrian on Vienna capital, from which the emperor had hastily withdrawn. Still the retreat and pursuit continued, the allies retiring to Moravia, whither the French, laden with an immense booty from their victories, rapidly followed. Futile negotiations for peace si: 1, and on the i »l December, the two armies, both concentrated in their fullest strength (92,000 of the allies to 70,000 French) came face to face on the field of Austerlitz, where on the following day was to be fought one of the memor- able battles in the history of the world. The Emperor Alexander had joined Francis of Austria, and the two monarchs, with their staff office ipied the castle and village of Auster- litz. Their troops hastened to occupy the plateau of Pratzen, which Napoleon had designedly left free. His plans of battle Th f E , ve , Before 1 ti ... Austerlitz was already fully made. He had, with the intuition of genius, foreseen the probable manoeuvers of the enemy, and had left open for them the position which he wished them to occupy. He even announced their movement in a proclamation to his troops. "The positions that we occupy are formidable," he said, " and while the enemy march to turn my right they will present to me their flank." This movement to the right was indeed the one that had been decided upon by the allies, with the purpose of cutting off the road to Vienn isolating numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. It had been shrewdly divined by Napoleon in choosing his ground. The fact that the 2d of December was the anniversary of the corona- tion of their emperor tilled the French troops with ardor. They celebrated it by making great torches of the straw which formed their beds and illumi 62 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND nating their camp. Early the next morning the allies began their projected movement. To the joy of Napoleon his prediction was fulfilled, they were advancing towards his right. He felt sure that the victory was in his hands. He held his own men in readiness while the line of the enemy deployed. The sun was rising, its rays gleaming through a mist, which dispersed as it The Greatest of rose higher. It now poured its brilliant beams across the Napofeon's field, the afterward famous "sun of Austerlitz." The move- ment of the allies had the effect of partly withdrawing their troops from the plateau of Pratzen. At a signal from the emperor the strongly concentrated centre of the French army moved forward in a dense mass, directing their march towards the plateau, which they made all haste to occupy. They had reached the foot of the hill before the rising mist revealed them to the enemy. The two emperors watched the movement without divining its intent, " See how the French climb the height without staying to reply to our fire,' said Prince Czartoryski, who stood near them. The emperors were soon to learn why their fire was disdained. Their marching columns, thrown out one after another on the slope, found them- selves suddenly checked in their movement, and cut off from the two wings of the army. The allied force had been pierced in its centre, which was flung back in disorder, in spite of the efforts of Kutusoff to send it aid. At the same time Davout faced the Russians on the right, and Murat and Lannes attacked the Russian and Austrian squadrons on the left, while Kel- lermann's light cavalry dispersed the squadrons of the Uhlans. The Russian guard, checked in its movement, turned towards Pratzen, in a desperate effort to retrieve the fortune of the day. It was incautiously pursued by a French battalion, which soon found itself isolated and in danger. Napoleon perceived its peril and hastily sent Rapp to its sup- port, with the Mamelukes and the chasseurs of the guard. They rushed forward with energy and quickly drove back the enemy, Prince Repnin remaining a prisoner in their hands. The day was lost to the allies. Everywhere disorder prevailed ano their troops were in retreat. An isolated Russian division threw down its arms and surrendered. Two columns were forced back beyond the marshes. The soldiers rushed in their flight upon the ice of the lake, which the intense cold had made thick enough to bear their weieht. And now a terrible scene was witnessed. War is merci Lake Horror ^ ess ' death ' s its a ' m \ the slaughter of an enemy by any means is looked upon as admissible. By Napoleon's order the French cannon were turned upon the lake. Their plunging balls rent and • EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND splintered the ice under the feet of the crowd of fugitives. Soon it bro with a crash, and the unhappy soldiers, with shrill cries of despair, sunk to death in the chilling waters beneath, thousands of them perishing. It was a frightful expedient — one that would be deemed a crime in any other co than the merciless one of war. A portion of the allied army made a perilous retreat al narrow embankment which separated the two lakes of Melnitz and Falnitz, their exposed causeway swept by the lire of the French batteries. Ot the whole army, the corps of Prince Bagration alone withdrew in order of bat All that dreadful day the roar of battle had resounded. Al its clo the victorious French occupied the field ; the allied army was pouring back in disordered flight, the dismayed emperors in its midst ; thousands of dead covered the fatal held, the groans of thousands of wounded men filled the air. More than 30,000 prisoners, including twenty generals, remained in Napoleon's hands, and with them a hundred and twenty pieces of cannon and forty flags, including the standards of the Imperial Guard of Russia. The defeal was a crushing one. Napoleon had won the most fan of his battles. The Emperor Francis, in deep depression, Treaty of asked tor an interview and an armistice-. Two days afterward Pence with the emperors, — the conqueror and the conquered, -met and an armistice was -ranted. While the negotiations for peace continu Napoleon shrewdly disposed of the hostility of Prussia by offering the state of Hanover to that power and signing a treat)- with the king. On Decem- ber 26th a treaty of peace between France and Austria was signed at Presburg. 1 he Emperor Francis yielded all his remaining p ons in Italy, and also the Tyrol, the Black Forest, and other districts in Germany, which Napoleon presented to his allies, Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and Baden; whose monarchs were still more: closely united to Napoleon by marria, between their children and relatives of himself and his wife fosephii Bavaria and Wurtemberg were made kingdoms, and Baden was rais in rank to a grand-duchy; The three months' war was at an end. Austt had paid dearly for her subserviency to England. < >f the several late enemies of France, only two remained in arms, Russia and England. And in the latter Pitt, Napoleon's greatest enemy, died during the next month, leaving the power in the hands of Fox, an admirer of the Corsican. Napoleon was at the summit of his glory and sued Napoleon's political ( did not end with the partial dismember- ment ot Austria. His ambition to b supreme in Europe and to ride everywhere lord paramount, inspired him to exalt his family, raising his relu- 64 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND tives to the rank of kings, but keeping them the servants of his imperious will. Holland lost its independence, Louis Bonaparte being named its king. Joachim Murat, brother-in-law of the emperor, was given a Awards King= kingdom on the lower Rhine, with Dusseldorf as its capital. doms to His A stroke of Napoleon's pen ended the Bourbon monarchy in Adh ers t a " Naples, and Joseph Bonaparte was sent thither as king, with a French army to support him. Italy was divided into duke doms, ruled over by the marshals and adherents of the emperor, whose hand began to move the powers of Europe as a chess-player moves the pieces upon his board. The story of his political transformations extends farther still. By rais- ing the electors of Bavaria and Wurtemberg to the rank of king's, he had practically brought to an end the antique German Empire — which indeed had long been little more than a name. In July, 1S06, he completed this work. The states of South and West Germany were organized into a league named the Confederation of the Rhine, under the protection of Napoleon. Many small principalities were suppressed and their territories added to the larger ones, increasing the power of the latter, and winning the gratitude of their rulers for their benefactor. The empire of France was in this manner practically extended over Italy, the Netherlands, and the west and south of Germany. Francis II., lord of the " Holy Roman Empire," now renounced the title which these radical changes had made a mockery, withdrew his states from the imperial confederation of Germany, and assumed the title of Francis I. of Austria. The Empire of Germany, once powerful, but long since reduced to a shadowy pretence, finally ceased to exist. These autocratic changes could not fail to arouse the indignation of the monarchs of Europe and imperil the prevailing peace. Austria was in no The Hostile condition to resume hostilities, but Prussia, which had main- Irritation of tained a doubtful neutrality during the recent wars, grew more and more exasperated as these high-handed proceedings went on. A league which the king of Prussia sought to form with Saxony and Hesse-Cassel was thwarted by Napoleon ; who also, in negotiating for peace with England, offered to return Hanover to that country, without consulting the Prussian King, to whom this electorate had been ceded. Other causes of resentment existed, and finally Frederick William of Prussia, irritated beyond control, sent a so-called " ultimatum " to Napoleon, demanding the evacuation of South Germany by the French. As might have been expected, this proposal was rejected with scorn, whereupon Prussia broke off all communication with France and began preparations for war. EL 'ROPE IX THE GR. ISP ( >/■' THE SR< >.Y II. IND 65 Prussians did not know the man with whom they had to deal. It was .in idle hope that this state could cope alone with the power of Napo- leon and his allies, and while Frederick William was slowly The Prussian preparing for the war which he had long sought to avoid, the Armies in French troops were on the march and rapidly approaching the e ie borders of his kingdom. Saxon}- had allied itself with Prussia under pulsion, and had added 20,000 men to its armies. The elector of II :el had also joined the Pr . and furnished them a contingent oi "roops. Put this hastily levied army. oi men few of whom had ver seen a battle, seemed hopeh ss as matched with the great army of war- worn veterans which Napoleon was marching with his accustomed rapidity against them. Austria, whom the Prussian King hail failed to aid, now looked on passively at his peril. The Russians, who still maintained hostile relations with Prance, held their troops immovable upon the Vistula. Frederick William was left to face the power of Napoleon alone. Idle late of the campaign was quickl; : d. Through Marc |, ,„■ the the mountain passi ia Napoleon led his forces French Upon against the Prussian army, which was divided into two corps, russia under the command of the Duke ol Brunswick and the Prince of Hohenlohe. ddte troops of the latter occupied the road from Weimar to Jena. The heights which commanded the latter town wi ed by Marshal 1. amies on his arrival. A second French corps, under Marshals Davout and Bernadotte, marched against the Duke of Brunswick and established them- selves upon the left bank of the Saale. On the morning of the jth of October, [806, the conflict at Jena, upon which hung the destiny of the Prussian Kingdom, began. The troops under the Prince oi Hohenloh d in number those of Napoleon, but were unfitted to sustain the impetuosity of the French assault. Soult and Augereau, in command of the wings of the French army, advanced rapidly, enveloping the Prussian forces and driving them back by the vigor of their k. Then on the Prussian (enter the guard and the reserves fell in a compact mass whose tremendous impact the enemy found it impossible to endure. The retreat became a rout. The Prussian army broke into a mob of fugitives, flying in terror before Napoleon's irresistible veterans. rhey were met by Marshal Biechel with an army of 20,000 men advanc- ing in all haste to the aid of the Prince of Hohenlohe. .... , . Defeat of the Throwing his men . ine ol flight, he did his Utmost Prussians at to rally the fugitives. His effort was a vain one. His men Jena and 1 1 • 1 1 11,1 Auerstadt were swept away by the panic-stricken mass and pushed back by the triumphant pursuers. Weimar was reached by the French and the 56 EUROPE IN 7 El E GRASP OF THE IRON HAND Germans simultaneosly, the former seizing prisoners in such numbers as seriously to hinder their pursuit. While this battle was going on, another was in progress near Auer- stadt, where Marsha! Davout had encountered the forces of the Duke of Brunswick, with whom was Frederick William, the king. Bernadotte, ordered by the emperor to occupy Hamburg, had withdrawn his troops, leaving Davout much outnumbered by the foe. But heedless of this, he threw himself across their road in the defile of Kcesen, and sustained alone the furious attack made upon him by the duke. Throwing his regiments into squares, he poured a murderous fire on the charging troops, hurling them back from his immovable . lines. The old duke fell with a mortal wound. The king and his son led their troops to a second, but equally fruitless, attack. Davout, taking advantage of their repulse, advanced and seized the heights of Eckartsberga, where lie defended himself with his artillery. Frederick William, discouraged by this vigorous resistance, retired towards Weimar with the purpose of joining his forces with those of the Prince of Hohenlohe and renewing 1 the attack. Davout's men were too exhausted to pursue, but Bernadotte was encountered and barred the way, and the disaster at Jena was soon made evident by the panic-stricken mass of fugitives, whose flying multitude, hotly pursued by the French, sought safety in the ranks of the king's corps, which they threw into confusion by their impact It was apparent that the battle was irretrievably lost Night was approaching. The king marched hastily away, the disorder in his ranks increasing as the darkness fell. In that one fatal day he had lost his army and placed his kingdom itself in jeopardy. "They can do nothing but gather up the debris" sa id Napoleon. The French lost no time in following up the defeated army; which had The Demoriiiza- broken into several divisions in its retreat. On the 17th, tionofthe Duke Eugene of Wurtemberg and the reserves under his Prussian command were scattered in defeat, On the 28th, the Prince Forces of Hohenlohe, with the 12,000 men whom he still held to- gether, was forced to surrender. Blucher, who had seized the free city of Liibeck, was obliged to follow his example. On ail sides the scattered debris of the army was destroyed, and on October 27th Napoleon entered in triumph the city of Berlin, his first entry into an enemy's capita!. Napoleon ^he battle ended, the country occupied, the work of Divides the revenge of the victor began. The Elector of Hesse was driven Spoils of f rom i^ t hrone and his country stricken from the list of the Victory . J powers oi Furope. Hanover and the Hanseatic towns were occupied by the French- The English merchandise found in ;-orts and EUROPE IN TllF. GRASP OF THE IRON HAND warehouses was seized and confi A heavy war contribution was laid upon the defeated state. Si vere taxes were laid upon Hamburg, Bremen and Leipzig, and from all the leading cities the treasures <>f art ami science were carried away to enrich the museums and galleries ol ; Saxony, whose alliance with Prussia had been a forced one, was alone spared. The Saxon prisoners v. :t hack free to their sovereign, ami the elector was granted a favorable peace and honored with the title of king. In return for these favors he joined the Confederation of the Rhi and such was his gratitude to \ ., that he remained his friend and ally in the trying days when he had no other friend among the powers of Europe. The harsh measures of which we ha\ not tin: only ones taken by Napoleon against his enemies. England, the most implacable his foes, remained beyond his reach, mistress of the seas as he was lord of the land. He could only meet the islanders upon their favorite elerm and in November 21, [806, he sent from Berlin to Talleyrand, his Minister of Foreign Affairs, a decree establishing a continental embargo against Great Britain. 'The British Island lid this famous edict of reprisal, "are deel in a state of blockade. All commerce and all correspondence with tli forbidden." All letters or packets addressed to an Englishman or written in English were to be every English subject found in The E mbargo any country controlled by France was to he made a prisoner on British of war ; all commerce in English merchandise was forbidden, ommcrce and all ship.-, coming from England or her colonies were to be red. admittance to any port. It is hardly necessary to speak here of the distress caused, alike in rope and elsewhere, by this war upon commerce, in which England did not fail to meet th< harsh d< 1 I her opponent by others equally severe. Tim effect ol these edicts upon Amen is well known. The commerce of neutral nations was almost swept from the seas. One result was the American war of 1812, which for a time seemed as likely to he directed against France as Great Britain. Meanwhile Frederick William ol Prussia was a fugitive 1 • 1 1 r 1 iii r 1 Frederick king. lie refused to accept the harsh terms ol the armistice William a fed by Napoleon, and in despair resolved to seek, with the Punitive in nnant of his army, some 25,000 in number, the Russian the Russian camp, and join his forces with those of Alexander ol Russia, still in arms against Fran< N ipoleon, 11. >i content while an enemy remained in arms, with inflex- ible resolution resolved to make an end of all his adversaries, and meet in 68 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND battle die great empire of the north. The Russian armies (hen occupied Poland, whose people, burning under the oppression and injustice to which they had been subjected, gladly welcomed Napoleon's specious offers to bring them back their lost liberties, and rose in his aid when he inarched his armies into their country. Here the French found themselves exposed to unlooked-for privations. They had dreamed of abundant stores of food, but discovered that the country they had invaded was, in this wintry season, a desert ; a series of frozen solitudes incapable of feeding an army, and holding no reward for them other than that of battle with and victory over the hardy Russians. Napoleon advanced to Warsaw, the Polish capital. The Russians were entrenched behind the Narew and the Ukra. The French continued to advance. The Russians were beaten and forced back in every battle, several furious encounters took place, and Alexander's army fell back upon the Pregel, intact and powerful still, despite the French successes. The wintry chill and the character of the country seriously interfered with Napoleon's plans, the troops being forced to make their way through thick and rain- soaked forests, and march over desolate and marshy plains. The winter of _. r . . the north foueht agfainst them like a strong- army and manv The French in . . the Dreary of them fell dead without a battle. Warlike movements Plains of became almost impossible to the troops of the south, though Poland ill 1 iii- • i the hardy northeners, accustomed to the climate, continued their military operations. By the end of January the Russian army was evidently approaching in force, and immediate action became necessary. The cold increased. The mud was converted into ice. On January 30, 1S07, Napoleon left Warsaw and marched in search of the enemy. General Benningsen retreated, avoiding battle, and on the 7th of February entered the small town of Eylau, from which his troops were pushed by the approaching French. He encamped outside the town, the French in and about it ; it was evident that a great battle was at hand. The weather was cold. Snow lay thick upon the ground and still fell in great flakes. A sheet of ice covering some small lakes formed part of the country upon which the armies were encamped, but was thick enough to bear their weight. It was a chill, inhospitable country to which the demon of war had come. Before daybreak on the 8th Napoleon was in the streets of Eylau, forming his line of battle for the coming engagement. Soon the artillery of both armies opened, and a rain of cannon balls began to decimate the opposing ranks. The Russian fire was concentrated on the town, which tr CD Q Z ,ooo, — were but a short distance apart, and the slaughter from the fierce cannonade was terrible. A series ol movements on both sides began, Davout marching upon the Russian flank and Augereau upon the centre, while the Russians manoeuvred as if with a purpose to outflank the French on the left. At this interval an unlooked-for obstacle interfered with the French movements, a snow-fall beginning, which grew so dense that the armies lost sight of each other, and vision was restricted to a few feet. In this semi-darkness the French columns lost their way, and wandered about uncertainly. For half an hour the snow continued to fall. When it ceased the French army was in a critical position. Its cohesion was lost; its columns were straggling about and incapable of supporting one another; many of its superior officers were wounded. The Russians, on the contrary, were on the point of executing a vigorous turning movement, with 20.000 infantry, supported by cavalry and artillery. "Are you going to let me be devoured by these people?" cried Napo- leon to Murat, his eagle eve discerning the danger. He ordered a grand charge of all the cavalry of the army, consisting of eighty squadrons. With Murat at their head, they rushed jviurat's like an avalanche on the Russian lines, breaking through the Mighty in'antry and dispersing the cavalry who came to its support. The Russian infantry suffered severely from this charge, its two massive lines being rent asunder, while the third fell hack upon a wood in the rear. Finally Davout, whose movement had been hindered by the weather, reached the Russian rear, and in an impetuous charge drove them from the hilly ground which Napoleon wished to occupy. The battle seemed lost to the Russians. They began a retreat, leaving the ground strewn thickly with their dead and wounded. But at this critical moment a Prussian force, some 8,000 strong, which was being pursued by Marshal Ney, arrived on the field and ch the French advance and the Russian retreat. Benningsen regained sufficient confii to prepare for final attack, when he was advised of the approach of Ney, who was two or three hours behind the Prussians. At this discouraging news a final retreat Was ordered. The French were left masters of the field, though little attempt was made to pursue the menacing columns of the enemy, who withdrew in mili- tary array. It was a victory that came near being a defeat, and which, 72 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OE THE IRON HAND indeed, both sides claimed. Never before had Napoleon been so stub- bornly withstood. His success had been bought at a frightful cost, and The Cost of Konigsberg, the old Prussian capital, the goal of his march, Victory was still covered by the compact columns of the allies. The mm were in no condition to pursue. Food was wanting, and they were without shelter from the wintry chill. Ney surveyed the terrible scene with eyes of gloom. " What a massacre," he exclaimed ; "and with- out result." So severe was the exhaustion on both sides from this great battle that it was four months before hostilities were resumed. Meanwhile Danzig, which had been strongly besieged, surrendered, and more than 30,000 men were released to reinforce the French army. Negotiations for peace went slowly on, without result, and it was fune before hostilities again became imminent. Eylau, which now became Napoleon's headquarters, presented a very different aspect at this season from that of four months before. Then all was wintry desolation ; now the country presented a beautiful scene of green woodland, shining lakes, and attractive villages. The light corps of the army were in motion in various directions, their object being to get between the Russians and their magazines and cut off retreat to Konigsberg. On June 13th Napoleon, with the main body of his army, inarched towards Fried- land, a town on the River Alle, in the vicinity of Konigsberg, towards which the Russians were marching'. Here, crossing-- the Alle, Benningsen drove from the town a regiment of French hussars which had occupied it, and fell with all his force on the corps of Marshal Lannes, which alone had reached the field. Lannes held his ground with his usual heroic fortitude, while sending Napoleon on successive messengers for aid to the emperor. Noon had the Field of passed when Napoleon and his staff reached the field at full gallop, far in advance of the troops. He surveyed the field with eyes of hope. " It is the 14th of June, the anniversary of Marengo," he said ; " it is a lucky clay for us." "Give me only a reinforcement," cried Oudinot, " and we will cast all the Russians into the water." This seemed possible. Benningsen's troops were perilously concen- trated within a bend of the river. Some of the French generals advised de- ferring the battle till the next clay, as the hour was late, but Napoleon was too shrewd to let an advantage escape him. " No," he said, " one does not surprise the enemy twice in such a blun- der." He swept with his field-glass the masses of the enemy before him, EUROPE IN THE GRAS If/- IRON HAND 73 • ■(1 the arm of Marshal Ney. "You see the Russians and the town of Friedland," he aid. " March straight forward the town ; take the bridges, whatever ii ma; ; trouble yourself with what is taking place around you. Li I to me and the army." The troops were coming In rapidly, and marching to the places assi: them. The hours movi d on. It was half-past five in the afternoon when the cannon sounded th ! of the coming fray. Meanwhile Key's march upon Friedland had begun. A terrible fire from the Ru wept his ranks as he advanced. Aided by The Assault of cavalry and artillery, i : a stream defend* lie the indom- Russian Imperial Guard. Before those picked troops the ey French recoiled in temporary disorder, but the division of General Dupont marching briskly up, broke the Russian guard, and the pursuing French rushed into the town. In a short time it was in flames ami the fugitive Russians were cut off from the bridges, which w on fire. The Russians made a vigorous effort to recover their lost ground, General Gortschakoff endeavoring to drive the French from the town, and other corps making repeated attacks on the French centre. All their efforts in vain The French columns continui d to advance. By ten o'clock the battle was at an end. Many of the Russians had been drowned in the stream, and the field was covered with their dead, whose numbers were estimated by the boastful French bulletins at 15,000 or 18,000 men, while, they made the improbable claim of having lost no m I an The Tota , 500 dead. Konigsberg, the prize of victory, was quickly occu- Defeatof the pied by Marshal Soult, and yielded the French a vast quantity Russians of food, and a la tore of military supplies which had been sent from and for Russian use. The K Prussia had lost the whole of his ssions with the exception of the single town of Memel. Victorious as Napoleon had been, he had found the Russians no con- temptible foes. At Eylau he had come nearer defeat than ever before in his career. He was qu therefore, 1 to overtures for peace. and early in July a notable interview took place; I 1 him and the Czar of Russia at Tilsit, on the Niemen, the two 1 "S meeting on a raft in the centre of the stream. What 1 1 them is not The E rors known. Some think that they arranged for a division of at Tilsit and Europe between their respective empires. Alexander taking the rate of all the east and Napoleon ail the west. However that was, the treaty of peace, signed July 8th, was a disastrous one for the defeated Prussian king, who was punished for his temerity in seeking to fight 74 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND Napoleon alone by the loss of more than half his kingdom, while in addi- tion a heavy war indemnity was laid upon his depleted realms. He was forced to yield all the countries between the Rhine and the Elbe, to consent to the establishment of a Dukedom of Warsaw, under the supremacy of the king of Saxony, and to the loss of Danzig and the surroundine territory, which were converted into a free State. A new kingdom, named Westphalia, was founded by Napoleon, made up of the territory taken from Prussia and the states of Hesse, Brunswick and South Hanover. His younger brother, Jerome Bonaparte, was made its king. It was a further step in his policy of founding a western empire. Louisa, the beautiful and charming queen of Frederick William, sought Tilsit, hoping by the seduction of her beauty and grace of address to induce Napoleon to mitigate his harsh terms. But in vain she brought to bear upon him all the resources of her intellect and her attractive charm of man- ner. He continued cold and obdurate, and she left Tilsit deeply mortified ami humiliated. In northern Europe only one enemy of Napoleon remained. Sweden retained its hostility to France, under the fanatical enmity of Gustavus IV., who believed himself the instrument appointed by Providence to reinstate the Bourbon monarchs upon their thrones. Denmark, which refused to ally itself with England, was visited by a British fleet, which bom- Sweden ar barded Copenhagen and carried off all the Daaish ships of war, an outrage which brought this kingdom into close alliance with France. The war in Sweden must have ended in the conquest of that country, had not the people revolted and dethroned their obstinate king. Charles XIII., his uncle was placed on the throne, but was induced to adopt Napoleon's marshal Bernadotte as his son. The latter, as crown prince, practically succeeded the incapable king in 1S10. Events followed each other rapidly. Napoleon, in his desire to add kingdom after kingdom to his throne, invaded Portugal and interfered in the affairs of Spain, from whose throne he removed the last of the Bourbon kings, replacing him by his brother, Joseph Bonaparte. The result was a revolt of the Spanish people which all his efforts proved unable to quell, aided, as they were eventually, by the power of England. In Italy his intrigues continued. Marshal Murat succeeded Joseph Bonaparte on the throne of Naples. Eliza, Napoleon's sister, was made queen of Tuscany. The Pope a The temporal sovereignity of the Pope was seriously inter- Captive at ferecl with and finally, in 1S00, the pontiff was forcibly 1 removed from Rome and the states of the Church were added to the French territory, Pius VII, the pope, was eventually brought to EUROPE 1\ THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND France and obliged to residi eau, where he persistently refi to yield to Napoleon's wishes or perform any act of ecclesiastical authority while held in captivity. These various arbitrary acts had their natural result, that of active hostility. The Austrians beheld them with growing indignation, and at length grew so exas d that, despite their many defeats, they de< again to dare the power and genius of th<„ conqueror. In April, 1809, the Vienna Cabinet once more declared war against France and made all h to put its armies in the field. Stimulated by this, a revolt broke out in the Tyrol, the simple-minded but brave and sturdy mountaineers gathering under the leadership of Andreas Hofer, a man of authority among them, and wel- coming the Austrian tro nt to their aid. As regards this war in the Tyrol, there is no need here to go into details. It must sulVu / that the bold peasantry, aided Andreas Hofer by the natural advantages of their mountain land, for a time and the War freed themselves from French dominion, to the astonishment ,r ' e yro and admiration of Europe. But their freedom was of brief duration, fresh troops were poured into the country, and though the mountaineers won more than one victor)-, they proved no match for the power of their foes. Their country was conquered, and Hofer, their brave leader, was taken by the French and remorselessly put to death by the order of Napoleon. The struggle in the Tyrol was merely a side issue in the new war with Austria, which was conducted on Napoleon's side with his usual celerii movement, '['lie days when soldiers are whisked forward at locomotive d had not yet dawned, yet the French troops made extraordinary prog- ress on foot, and war was barely declared before the army of Xapoleon covered Austria. This army was no longer made up solely of Frenchmen. The Confederation of the Rhine practically formed part of Napoleon's empire, and Germans now fought side by side with Frenchmen; Marshal Lefebvre leading the Bavarians, Bernadotte the Saxons, An- _. The Army of gereau the men of Baden, Wurtemberg, and Hesse. On the Napoleon other hand, the Austrians were early in motion, and by the 10th Marches of April the Archduke Charles had crossed the Inn with his army and the King <>( Bavaria, Napoleon's ally, was in flight from his capital. The quick advance of the Austrians had placed the French arm)' in danger. Spread out over an extent of twenty-live leagues, it ran serious risk of being cut in two by the rapidly marching troops of the Archduke. Napoleon, who reached the front on the 17th, was not slow to perceive the peril and to take steps of prevention. A hasty concentration of his forces was ordered and vigorously begun. 5 76 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND ' Never was there need for more rapidity of movement than now," he wrote to Massena. "Activity, activity, speed !" Speed was the order of the day. The French generals ably seconded the anxious activity of their chief. The soldiers fairly rushed together. A brief hesitation robbed the Austrians of the advantage Overcome which they had hoped to gain. The Archduke Charles, one of the ablest tacticians ever opposed to Napoleon, had the weakness of over-prudence, and caution robbed him of the opportunity given him by the wide dispersion of the French. He was soon and severely punished for his slowness. On the 19th Davout defeated the Austrians at Fangen and made a junction with the Bavarians. On the 20th and 21st Napoleon met and defeated them in a series of engagements. Meanwhile the Archduke Charles fell on Ratisbon, held by a single French regiment, occupied that important place, and attacked Davout at Eckmiihl. Here a furious battle took place. Davout, outnumbered, maintained his position for three days. Napoleon, warned of the peril of his marshal, bade him to hold on to the death, as he was hastening to his relief with 40,000 men. The day was well advanced when the emperor came up and fell with his fresh troops on the Austrians, who, still bravely fighting, were forced back upon Ratisbon. During the night the Archduke wisely withdrew and marched for Bohemia, where a large reinforcement awaited him. On the 23d Napoleon attacked the town, and The Battle of carr ied it in spite of a vigorous defence. His proclamation to Eckmiihl and his soldiers perhaps overestimated the prizes of this brief but the Capture active campaign, which he declared to be a hundred cannon, of Ratisbon . a ° , . forty nags, all the enemy s artillery, 50,000 prisoners, a large number of wagons, etc. Half this loss would have fully justified the Arch- duke's retreat. In Italy affairs went differently. Prince Eugene Beauharnais, for the first time in command of a French army, found himself opposed by the „_ „ . Archduke John, and met with a defeat. On April 16th, seekino- f he Campaign ... . . , , , , » , , , , , In Italy to retrieve his disaster, he attacked the Archduke, but the Austrians bravely held their positions, and the French were again obliged to retreat. General Macdonald, an officer of tried ability, now joined the prince, who took up a defensive position on the Adige, whither the Austrians marched. On the 1st of May Macdonald perceived among them indications of withdrawal from their position. " Victory in Germany !" he shouted to the prince. " Now is our time for a forward march !" EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IKON HAND 77 He was correct, the Archduke John had been recalled in haste to aid his brother in the defence of Vienna, on which the French were advancing in force The campaign now became a race for the capital of Austria. During its progress several conflicts took place, in each of which the French won. The city was defended by the Archduke Maximilian with an army of over 15,000 men, but he found it expedient to withdraw, and on the 13th the troops of Napoleon occupied the place. Meanwhile Charles had concen- trated his troops and was marching hastily towards the side of the Danube, whither his brother John was advancing from Italy. It was important for Napoleon to strike a blow before this jum could be made. He resolved to cross the Danube in the suburbs of the capital itself, and attack the Austrians before they were reinforced. In the vicinitv of Vienna the channel of the river is broken by many islets. At the island of I.obau. the point chosen for the attempt, the river is broad and deep, but I.obau is separated from the opposite bank by only a narrow branch, while two smaller islets offered themselves as aids in the construc- tion of bridges, there being four channels, over each ol which a bridge was thrown. The work was a difficult one. The Danube, swollen by The Bridges the melting snows, imperilled the bridges, erected with diffi- over the 1 ultv and braced by insufficient cordage. But despite this anu e peril the crossing began, and on May 20th Marshal Massena reached the other side and posted his troops in the two villages t<( Aspern and Essling, and alone a deep ditch that connected them. As yet only the vanguard of the Austrians hail arrived. Other corps soon appeared, and by the afternoon of the 21st the entire army, from 70,000 to 80,000 st r. ed the French, still only half their number, and in a position of extreme peril, for the bridge over the main channel of the river had broken during the night, and the crossing was cut off in its midst. Napoleon, however, was straining every nerve to repair the bridge, ami Massena and Lannes, in command of the advance, fought like men fighting for their lives. The Archduke Charles, the ablest soldier Napoleon had yet encountered, hurled his troops in masses upon Aspern, which covered the bridge to Lobau. Several times it was taken and retaken, but the: French held on with h grip, all the strength of the Austrians seeming insuffi- cient to break the hold of Lannes upon Essling. An advance in force, which nearly cut the communication between the two villages, was checked by an impetuous cavalry charge, and night fell, leaving the situation unchanged. 7 8 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND At dawn of the next day more than 70,000 French had crossed the stream ; Marshal Davout's corps, with part of the artillery and most of the ammunition, being still on the right bank. At this critical moment the large bridge, against which the Austrians had sent fireships, boats laden with stone and other floating missiles, broke for the third time, and the engin- eers of the French army were again forced to the most strenuous and hasty exertions for its repair. The struggle of the day that had just begun was one of extraordinary r . valor and obstinacy. Men went down in multitudes ; now struggle of the Austrians, now the French, were repulsed ; the Austrians, Esslingand impetuously assailed, slowly fell back; and Lannes was pre- Aspern . ...... paring lor a vigorous movement designed to pierce their centre, when word was brought Napoleon that the great bridge had again yielded to the floating debris, carrying with it a regiment of cuirassiers, and cutting off the supply of ammunition. Lannes was at once ordered to fall back upon the villages, and simultaneously the Austrians made a powerful assault on the French centre, which was checked with great difficulty. Five times the charge was renewed, and though the enemy was finally repelled, it became evident that Napoleon, for the first time in his career, had met with a decided check. Night fell at length, and reluctantly he gave the order to retreat. He had lost more than a battle, he had lost the brilliant soldier Lannes, who fell with a mortal wound. Back to the Napoleon Forced >sl an d of Lobau marched the French; Massena, in charge of the to his First rear-guard, bringing over the last regiments in safety. More than 40,000 men lay dead and wounded on that fatal field, which remained in Austrian hands. Napoleon, at last, was obliged to acknowledge a repulse, if not a defeat, and the nations of Europe held up their heads with renewed hope. It had been proved that the Corsican was not invincible. Some of Napoleon's generals, deeply disheartened, advised an immedi- ate retreat, but the emperor had no thought of such a movement. It would have brought a thousand disasters in its train. On the contrary, he held the island of Lobau with a strong force, and brought all his resources to bear on the construction of a bridge that would defy the current of the stream. At the same time reinforcements were hurried forward, until by the 1st of July, he had around Vienna an army of 150,000 men. The Austrians had probably from 135,000 to 140,000. The archduke had, morever, strongly fortified the positions of the recent battle, expecting the attack upon them to be resumed. I? n — -I 7 . O. o 2. & p IK i attack, and on the night oi Crossing of July 4th brid ere thrown from the island of Lobau to the the 1)ai1llhe mainland, and the army which had been gathering for several days on the island began its advance. It moved as a whole against tl hts of ram, occupying Aspern and Essling in its advance. The ^rcat battli i on the succeeding day. It was hotly contested ai all points, hut attention maybe confined to the movement against the plateau of Wagram, which had been entrusted t<> Marshal Davout. The height was gained after a desj ; the key of the battlefield was held by the French ; the Austrians. impetuously t;., ctory ' ' at Wajcram tiled at every point, and driven from every point of vantage, began a retreat. The Archduke Charles had anxiously looked for the com- ing of his brother John, with the army under his command. He waited in vain, the laggard prince failed to appear, and retreal became inevitable. The battle had already lasted ten hours, and the French held all the strong points i 'I the field ; but the Austrians withdrew slowly and in battle array, presenting a front that discouraged any effort to pursue. There was nothing resem- bling a rout. The Archduke Charles retreated to Bohemia. His forces were dis- persed during the march, but he had 70,000 men with him when Napoleon reached his front at Znaim, on the road to Prague, on the nth of July. Further hostilities were checked by a request for a truce, preliminary to a tee. The battle, already begun, was stopped, and during the night an armistice was signed. The vigor of the Austrian resistance and the doubt- ful attitude of the other powers made Napoleon willing enough to treat for terms. The peace, which was finally signed at Vienna, October 14. 1809, took from Austria 50,000 square miles of territory and 3,000,000 inhabitants, together with a war contribution of $85,000,000, Tl ^ Peaceof while her army was restricted to 150,000 men. The overthrow of the several outbreaks which had taken place in north Germany, the defeat of a British expedition against Antwerp, and the suppression of the revolt in the Tyrol, ended all organized opposition to Napoleon, who was once more master f<( the European situation. Raised by this signal success to the summit of his power, lord p mount of Western Europe, only one thing remained to trouble the mind of the victorious emperor. His wife, [osephine, was childless ; his throne threatened to be left without an heir. Much as he had seemed to love his 82 EUROPE IN THE GRASP OF THE IRON HAND wife, the companion of his early days, when he was an unknown and uncon- sidered subaltern, seeking humbly enough for military employment in Paris, yet ambition and the thirst for glory were always the ruling passions in his nature, and had now grown so dominant as to throw love and wifely devo- tion utterly into the shade. He resolved to set aside his wife and seek a new bride among the princesses of Europe, hoping in this way to leave an heir of his own blood as successor to his imperial throne. Negotiations were entered into with the courts of Europe to obtain a daughter of one of the proud royal houses as the spouse of the plebeian emperor of France. No maiden of less exalted rank than a princess of the imperial families of Russia or Austria was high enough to meet the ambitious aims of this proud lord of battles, and negotiations were entered into with both, ending in the selection of Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor Francis of Austria, who did not venture to refuse a demand for his daughter's hand from the master of half his dominions. _. ... „ Napoleon was not long- in finding a plea for setting- aside The Divorce of v & . . Josephine and the wife of his days of poverty and obscurity. A defect in Marriage of tne marriage was alleged, and the transparent farce went on. Maria Louisa „. ,. . T , . , . . . . r 1 he divorce ot Josephine has awakened the sympathy ol a century. It was, indeed, a piteous example of state-craft, and there can be no doubt that Napoleon suffered in his heart while yielding to the dictates of his unbridled ambition. The marriage with Maria Louisa, on the 2d of April, 1 8 10, was conducted with all possible pomp and display, no less than five queens carrying the train of the bride in the august ceremony. The purpose of the marriage did not fail ; the next year a son was born to Napoleon. But this imperial youth, who was dignified with the title of King of Rome, was destined to an inglorious life, as an unconsidered teiant of the gilded halls of his imperial grandfather of Austria. CHAPTER IV. The Decline and Fall of Napoleon's Empire. AMBI [TON, unrestrained by caution, uncontrolled by moderation, has its inevitable end. An empire built upon victory, trusting solely to military genius, prepares for itself the elements of its overthrow. This fact Napoleon was to learn. In the outset of his career he opposed a new art of war to the obsolete one of his enemies, and his path to empire was over the en: of slaughtered armies and the ruins of fallen king- doms. But year by year they learned his art, in war after war their n ance grew more stringent, each successive victory was won with more difficulty and at greater cost, and finally, at the crossing of the Danube, the energy and genius of Napoleon met their equal, the Rise and and the standards of France went back in defeat. It was the Decline of tocsin of fate. His career of victory had culminated. From Napoleons J Power that day its decline began. It is inter to find that the first effective check to Napoleon's victorious progress came front one of the weaker nations of Europe, a power which the conqueror contemned and thought to move as one of the minor piei es in his game of empire. Spain at that time had reached almost the lowest stage of its decline. Its kiim - was an imbecile ; the heir to the throne a weakling; Godoy, the "Prince of the Peace," the monarch's favorite, an ambitious intriguer. Napoleon's armies had invaded Portugal and forced its monarch to embark for Brazil, his American ,, Alms and In. domain. A similar movement was attempted in Spain. This trigues in country the base Godoy betrayed to Napoleon, and then, Portugal and frightened by the consequences of his dishonorable intrigues, sought to escape with the king and court to the Spanish dominions in America His scheme was prevented by an outbreak of the people of Madrid, and Napoleon, ambitiously designing to add the peninsula to his empire, induced both Charles IV. and his son Ferdinand to resign from the throne. He replaced them by his brother, Joseph Bonaj ho, on June 6, 1808, was named King of Spain. Hitherto Napoleon had dealt with emperors and kings, whose overthrow carried with it that of their people In Spain he had a new element, the (83) THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON S EMPIRE people itself, to deal with. The very weakness of Spam proved its strength. i )eprived of their native monarchs, and given a king not of their own choice, ~r. „ .. .v *. the whole people rose in rebellion and defied Napoleon and The Bold Defi- « . . • i • • anceofthe his armies. An insurrection broke out m Madrid in which People of 1,200 French soldiers were slain. Juntas were formed in dif- ferent cities, which assumed the control of affairs and refused obedience to the new king. From end to end of Spain the people sprang to arms and began a guerilla warfare which the troops of Napoleon sought in vain to quell. The bayonets of the French were able to sustain King Joseph and his court in Madrid, but proved powerless to put down the peo- ple. Each city, each district, became a separate centre of war, each had to be conquered separately, and the strength of the troops was consumed in petty contests with a people who avoided open warfare and dealt in surprises and scattered fights, in which victory counted for little and needed to be re- peated a thousand times. The Spanish did more than this. They put an arm) - in the field which _ . , _, ., was defeated by the French, but they revenged themselves Spam's BnU . J # ' / & liant Victory brilliantly at Baylen, in Andalusia, where General Dupont. and Kins Jo- with a corps 20,000 strong, was surrounded in a position from seph's Flight ,..,., , , , j , . u which there was no escape, and torced to surrender himself and his men as prisoners of war. This undisciplined people had gained a victory over France which none of the great powers of Europe could match. The Spaniards were filled with enthusiasm ; King Joseph hastily abandoned Madrid ; the French armies retreated across the Ebro. Soon encouraging news came from Portugal. 1 he English, hitherto mainly confining themselves to naval warfare and to aiding the enemies of Napoleon with money, had landed an army in that country under Sir Arthur Wellesley (afterwards Lord Wellington) and other generals, which would have captured the entire French army had it not capitulated on the terms of a free passage to France. For the time being the peninsula of Spain and Portugal was free from Napoleon's power. The humiliating reverse to his arms called Napoleon himself into the field. He marched at the head of an army into Spain, defeated the insur- The Heroic gents wherever met, and reinstated his brother on the throne. Defence of The city of Saragossa, which made one ot tne most heroic defences known in history, was taken, and the advance of th< British armies was checked. And yet, though Spain was widely overrun, the people did not yield. The junta at Cadiz defied the French, the guerillas continued in the field, and the invaders found themselves baffled by an enemy who was felt oftener than seen. THE DECLINE AND FAl NAPOLl \TPIRE 85 The Austrian war called away the emperor and the hulk of his troo but after it was over he filled Spain with his veterans, increasing the strength of the army there to 300,000 men, under his ablest generals, Soult, Massena, Ney, Marmont, Macdonald and others. They marched throuj Spain from end to end, yet, though they held all the salient points, the people refused to submit, but from their mountain fast: kept up a petty and annoying war. Massena, in 1S11. invaded Portugal, where Wellington with an English army awaited him behind the stroii;/ lines of Torres Vedras, „, „. & _ Wellington's which the ever-victorious French sought in vain to carry by career in assault. Massena was compelled to retreat, ami Soult. by Portugal and whom the emperor replaced him, was no more successful against the shrewd English general. At length Spain won the reward of her patriotic defence. The Russian campaign of 18 12 compelled the emperor to deplete his army in that country, and Wellington came to the aid of the patriots, defeated Marmont at Salamanca, entered Madrid, and forced King Joseph once more to flee from his unquiet throne. For a brief interval he was restored by the French arm}- under Soult and Suchet, but the disasters of the Russian campaign brought the reign of King Joseph to a final end, and forced him to give up the pretence of reigning over a people who were unflinchingly determined The Reward to have no king but one of their own choice. The story of of Patriotic the Spanish war ends in 1815, when Wellington defeated the a or French at Vittoria, pursued them across the Pyrenees, and set foot upon the soil of France. While these events were taking place in Spain the power of Napoleon was being shattered to fragments in the north. On the banks of the Nie- men, a river that flows between Prussia and Poland, there gath- , , , , T „ , c A Record of ered near the end 01 June, 1S12, an immense army 01 more Disaster than 600,000 men, attended by an enormous multitude of non- combatants, their purpose being the invasion of the empire of Russia. Of this great army, made up of troops from half the nations of Europe, there appeared six months later on that broad stream about 16,000 armed nun, almost all that were left of that stupendous host. The remainder had per- ished on the desert soil or in the frozen rivers of Russia, few of them sur- viving as prisoners in Russian hands. Such was the character of the dread catastrophe that broke the power ol the mighty conqueror and delivered Europe from his autocratic grasp. The breach of relations between Napoleon and Alexander was largely due to the arbitrary and high-handed proceedings of the French emperor, 86 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE who was accustomed to deal with the map of Europe as if it represented his private domain. He offended Alexander by enlarging the duchy of Warsaw Napoleon and — one °^ h' s own creations — and deeply incensed him by ex- theCzarat tending the French empire to the shores of the Baltic, thus robbing of his dominion the Duke of Oldenburg, a near rela- tive of Alexander. On the other hand the Czar declined to submit the com- mercial interests of his country to the rigor of Napoleon's "continental blockade," and made a new tariff, which interfered with the importation of French and favored that of English goods. These and other acts in which Alexander chose to place his own interests in advance of those of Napoleon were as wormwood to the haughty soul of the latter, and he determined to punish the Russian autocrat as he had done the other monarchs of Europe who refused to submit to his dictation. For a year or two before war was declared Napoleon had been prepar- ing for the greatest struggle of his life, adding to his army by the most rig- orous methods of conscription and collecting great magazines of war mate- rial, though still professing friendship for Alexander. The latter, however, was not deceived. He prepared, on his part, for the threatened struggle, made peace with the Turks, and formed an alliance with Bernadotte, the crown prince of Sweden, who had good reason to be offended with his former lord and master. Napoleon, on his side, allied himself with Prussia and Austria, and added to his army large contingents of troops from the German states. At length the great conflict was ready to begin between the two autocrats, the Emperors of the East and the West, and Europe resounded with the tread of marching- feet. In the closing days of June the grand army crossed the Niemen, its last The invasion of regiments reaching Russian soil by the opening of July. Na- Russiabythe poleon, with the advance, pressed on to Wilna, the capital of rmy Lithuania. On all sides the Poles rose in enthusiastic hope, and joined the ranks of the man whom they looked upon as their deliverer. Onward went the great army, marching with Napoleon's accustomed rapid- ity, seeking to prevent the concentration of the divided Russian forces, and advancing daily deeper into the dominions of the czar. The French emperor had his plans well laid. He proposed to meet the Russians in force on some interior field, win from them one of his accus- tomed brilliant victories, crush them with his enormous columns, and force the dismayed czar to sue for peace on his own terms. But plans need two sides for their consummation, and the Russian leaders did not propose to lose the advantage given them by nature. On and on went Napoleon, deeper and deeper into that desolate land, but the great army he was to 11! VD FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 87 crush failed to loom up before him, the broad plains still s] onward empty of soldiers, and disquiet began to assail his imperious soul as he founc 1 the Russian hosts keepin ntly beyond his reach, luring . him ever deeper into their vast territory. In truth Barclay de Baffled by Tolly, the czar's chief in command, had adopted a policy which was sure to prove fatal to Napoleon's purpose, that of persistently avoiding battle and keeping the French in pursuit of a fleeti will-of-the-wisp. while their army wasted away from natural disintegration that inhospitable clime. He was correct in his views. Desertion, illness, the death of young recruits who could not endure the hardships of a rapid march in the sev< heat of midsummer, began their fatal work. Napoleon's plan of campaign proved a total failure. The Russians would not wait to be and each day's march opened a wider circle of operations befot anctng host, whom the interminable plain filled with a sense of hopelessness. The heal was overpowering, and men dropped from the ranks as rapidly chough on a field of battle. At Vitebsk the army was inspected, and the emperor was alarmed at the rapid decrease in his foro ne of the divi- sions had lost more than a fourth of their men. in every corps the ranks were depleted, and reinforcements already had to be set on the march. Onward they went, here and there bringing the Russians to bay in a minor engagement, but nowhere meeting them in numbers. Europe waited in vain for tidings of a great battle, and Napoleon began to look upon his proud army with a feeling akin to despair, lie was not alone in his eager- ness for battle. Some of the high-spirited Russians, among them Prince B Lgration, were as eager, but as yet the prudent policy of Barclay de Tolly prevailed. On the 14th of August, the army crossed the Dnieper, and march now 175,000 strong, upon Smolensk, which iched on the [6th. This ancient and venerable town was <1 the Russians, and Smolensk Cap- they made their first determined stand in its defence, fighting tured and in behind its walls all day of the 17th. Finding that the assault ' lames was likely to succeed, they set fire to the town at night and withdrew, leaving to the French a city in flames. The bridge was cut, the Russian army was beyond pursuit on the road to Moscow, nothing had been gained by the struggle but the ruins of a town. The situation was growing desperate. For two months the army had advanced without a battle of importance:, and was soon in the heart of Russia, reduced to half its numbi rs, while the hoped-for victory seemed as far off as ever. And the short summer of the north was nearing its end. 88 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE The severe winter of that climate would soon begin. Discouragement everywhere prevailed. Efforts were made by Napoleon's marshals to induce him to give up the losing game and retreat, but he was not to be moved from his purpose. A march on Moscow, the old capital of the empire, he felt sure would bring the Russians to bay. Once within its walls he hoped to dictate terms of peace. Napoleon was soon to have the battle for which his soul craved. Bar- clay's prudent and successful policy was not to the taste of many of the Russian leaders, and the czar was at length induced to replace him by fiery old Kutusoff, who had commanded the Russians at Austerlitz. A change in the situation was soon apparent. On the 5th of September the French army debouched upon the plain of Borodino, on the road to Moscow, and the emperor saw with joy the Russian army drawn up to dispute the way to the " Holy City" of the Muscovites. The dark columns of troops were strongly intrenched behind a small stream, frowning rows of guns threat- ened the advancing foe, and hope returned to the emperor's heart. Battle began early on the 7th, and continued all day The Battle of lone, the Russians defending their ground with unyielding Borodino f ' _ , & , . °, . . . . , „ stubborness, the French attacking their positions with all their old impetuous dash and energy. Murat and Ney were the heroes of the day. Again and again the emperor was implored to send the imperial guard and overwhelm the foe, but he persistently refused. " If there is a second battle to-morrow," he said, "what troops shall I fight it with? It is not when one is eight hundred leagues from home that he risks his last resource." The guard was not needed. On the following day Kutusoff was obliged to withdraw, leaving no less than 40,000 dead or wounded on the field. Among- the killed was the brave Prince Bagration. The retreat was an orderly one. Napoleon found it expedient not to pursue. His own losses aggregated over 30,000, among them an unusual number of generals, of whom ten were killed and thirty-nine wounded. Three days proved a brief time to attend to the burial of the dead and the needs of the wounded. Napoleon named the engagement the Battle of the Moskwa, from the river that crossed the plain, and honored Ney, as the hero of the day, with the title of Prince of Moskwa. Th f" ts' ht ^ n t ' le l 5^ tne Holy City was reached. A shout of of the Holy " Moscow ! Moscow ! " went up from the whole army as they City of gazed on the gilded cupolas and magnificent buildings of that famous city, brilliantly lit up by the afternoon sun. Twenty miles in circumference, dazzling with the green of its copper domes and n c o 3 ■< Z , £1 > r»i :.§ w • » i S-a > |j r "cm ^3. < "° -n o f _| 111 •>* - i c ^ = i a *- s ° 5* S c o a. 3 jp C : w -3.0) £ » * f f — •_ 32 3 1 i Til; INE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE i its minarets of yellow stone, the towers and walls of the famous Kremlin rising above its palaces and gardens, it seemed like some fabled city of the Arabian Nights. With renewed enthusiasm the troops rushed towards it, while whole regiments of Poles fell on their knees, thanking God for deliver- ing this stronghold of their oppressors into their hands. It was an empty city into which the French marched; its streets deserted, its dwellings silent. Its busy life had vanished like a morning mist. Kutusoff had marched his army through it and left it _. _ & The (irand to his Iocs. 'The inhabitants w ne, with what they could Army in the carry of their treasures. The city, like the empire, seemed old Russian likely to be a barren conquest, for here, as elsewhere, the policy of retreat, so fatal to Napoleon's hopes, was put into effect. The emperor took up his abode in the Kremlin, within whose ample precincts he found quarters for the whole imperial guard. The remainder of the army was stationed at chosen points about the city. Provisions were abundant, the houses and stores of the city being amply supplied. The army enjoyed a luxury of which it had been long deprived, while: Napoleon confidently awaited a triumphant result from his victorious progress. A terrible disenchantment awaited the invader. Early on the following morning word was brought him that Moscow was on fire. Flames arose from houses that had not been opened. It was evidently a premeditated conflagration. The fire burst out at once in a do/en quarters, and a high wind carried the flames from street to street, from house to house, from church to church. Russians were captured who boasted that they had fired the town under orders and who met death unflinchingly. The & J _ The Burniiijf of governor had left them behind for tiiis fell purpose. The the (ireat poorer people, many of whom had remained hidden in their Clt y of rioscow. huts, now tied in terror, taking with them what cherished ■ions they could carry. Soon the city was a seething mass of flat The Kremlin did nol escape. A tower burst into flames. In vain the imperial guard sought to check the fire. No fire-engines were to be found in the town. Xapohon hastily left the palace ami sought shelter outside the citv, where for three days the flames ran riot, feeding on ancient pal and destroying untold treasures. Then the wind sank and rain poured upon the smouldering embers. The great city had become a desolate heap of smoking ruins, into which the soldiers daringly stole back in search of valuables that might have escaped the flames. This frightful conflagration was not due to the czar, but to Count Rostopchin, the governor of Moscow, who was subsequently driven from Russia by the execrations of those he had ruined. But it served asaprocla- 92 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE mation to Europe of the implacable resolution of the Muscovites and their determination to resist to the bitter end. Napoleon, sadly troubled in soul, sent letters to Alexander, suggesting the advisability of peace. Alexander left his letters unanswered. Until October iSth the emperor waited, hoping against hope, willing to grant almost any terms for an opportunity to escape from .he fatal trap into which his overweening ambition had led him. No answer came from the czar. He was inflexible in his determination not to treat with these invaders of his country. In deep dejection Napoleon at length gave the order to retreat — too late, as it was to prove, since the terrible Russian winter was ready to descend upon them in all its frightful strength. The army that left that ruined city was a sadly depleted one. It had The Grand been reduced to 103,000 men. The army followers had also Army Begins become greatly decreased in numbers, but still formed a host, among them delicate ladies, thinly clad, who gazed with terri- fied eyes from their traveling carriages upon the dejected troops. Articles of plunder of all kinds were carried by the soldiers, even the wounded in the wagons lying amid the spoil they had gathered. The Kremlin was destroyed by the rear guard, under Napoleon's orders, and over the drear Russian plains the retreat began. It was no sooner under way than the Russian policy changed. From retreating, they everywhere advanced, seeking to annoy and cut off the enemy, and utterly to destroy the fugitive army if possible. A stand was made at the town of Maloi-Yaroslavitz, where a sanguinary combat took place. The French captured the town, but ten thousand men lay dead or wounded on the field, while Napoleon was forced to abandon his projected line of march, and to return by the route he had followed in his advance on Moscow. From the bloody scene of contest the retreat continued, the battlefield of Borodino being crossed, and, by the middle of November, the ruins of Smolensk reached. Winter was now upon the French in all its furv. The food brouo-ht from Moscow had been exhausted. Famine, frost, and fatigue had proved more fatal than the bullets of the enemy. In fourteen days after reaching The Sad Rem- Moscow the army lost 43,000 men, leaving it only 60,000 strong. nant of the On reaching Smolensk it numbered but 42,000, having lost Army of 18,000 more within eight days. The unarmed followers are Invasion . , ° J said to have still numbered 60,000. Worse still, the supply of arms and provisions ordered to be ready at Smolensk was in great part iacking, only rye-flour and rice being found. Starvation threatened to aid the winter cold in the destruction of the feeble remnant of the "Grand Army." 77/A' DECLINE AND FALL OF A S EMPIRE Onward went the despairing hi by the Ru ;ians, who followed like wolves on their path. Ney, in command of the guard, was the hero of the retreat. Cut off by the Russians from the main column, and apparently lost beyond hope, he made a wonderful escape by crossing the Dnieper on the ice during the night and rejoining his compan- ions, who had given up the hope of <• :ing him again. On the 26th th M river Beresina was reached, destined to be the most terrible point on the whole dreadful march. Two bridges The Dreadful were thrown in all haste across th e im, and most of the Crossing of men under arms ci but [8,000 Strasfgders fell into the the Beresina hands of the enemy. How many were trodden to death in the press or wen crowded from the bridge into the icy river cannot be told. It is said that when spring thawed the ice 30,000 bodies were found and burned on the banks of the stream. A mere fragment of the great army remained alive. Ney was the last man to cross that frightful stream. On I bulletin which has b< 1 famous, telling the anxious nations of Europe that the grand army was anni- hilated, but the emperor was safe. Two days afterwards he surrendered the command of the army to Murat and set out at all speed for Paris, where his presence was indispensibly necessary. On the 13th of December some 16,000 haggard and staggering men, aim ik to hold the arms to which they still despairingly clung, n, which the grand army had passed in such magnificent strength ami with such abounding resources less than six months before. It was the it and m >und- ing disaster in the military history of the world. This tale of terror may be fitly closed by a dramatic story told by General Mathieu Dumas, who, while sitting at breakfast in Gumbinnen, saw enter a haergfard man, with long beard, blackened face, and red ami glaring eyes. "I am here at last," he exclaimed. " Don't you know n " No," said th ■ ,1. " Who are yi - •• I am th rear-guard of the Grand Army. I have fired the last musket- shot on the bridge of Kowno. I have 1 the last of our arms into the Niemen, and came hither through the woods. I am Marshal N "This is th ining of the- end," said the shrewd Talleyrand, when Napoleon set out on his Russian campaign. The remark proved true, the disaster in Russia had loosened the grasp of the Corsican on the throat of Europe, and the nations, which hated as much as they feared their ruthless enemy, made active preparati r his overthrow. While he was in France, actively gathering men and materials for a renewed struggle, signs 94 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE of an implacable hostility began to manifest themselves on all sides in the surrounding states. Belief in the invincibility of Napoleon had vanished, and little fear was entertained of the raw conscripts whom he was forcing- Europe in Arms mto ^^ ranks to replace his slaughtered veterans. Against Prussia was the first to break the bonds of alliance with Napoleon France, to ally itself with Russia, and to call its people to arms against their oppressor. They responded with the utmost enthusiasm, men of all ranks and all professions hastened to their country's defence, and the noble and the peasant stood side by side as privates in the same regi- ment. In March, 1813, the French left Berlin, which was immediately occupied by the Russian and Prussian allies. The king of Saxony, how- ever, refused to desert Napoleon, to whom he owed many favors and whose anger he feared ; and his State, in consequence, became the theatre of the war. Across the opposite borders of this kingdom poured the hostile hosts, The Opening meeting in battle at Liitzen and Buntzen. Here the French of the held the field, driving their adversaries across the Oder, but ma trugge not m t j ie vvild dismay seen at Jena. A new spirit had been aroused in the Prussian heart, and they left thousands of their enemies dead upon the field, among whom Napoleon saw with grief his especial friend and favorite Duroc. A truce followed, which the French emperor utilized in gathering fresh levies. Prince Metternich, the able chancellor of the Austrian empire, sought to make peace, but his demands upon Napoleon were much greater than the proud conqueror was prepared to grant, and he decisively refused to cede the territory held by him as the spoils of war. His refusal brought upon him another powerful foe, Austria allied itself with his enemies, formally declaring war on August 12, 1813, and an active and terrible struggle began. Napoleon's army was rapidly concentrated at Dresden, upon whose The Battle of wol 'ks of defence the allied army precipitated itself in a vigor- Dresden, Na= ous assault on August 26th. Its strength was wasted against poleon's Last t he vigorously held fortifications of the citv, and in the end Great Victory . ° J J the gates were hung open and the serried battalions of the Old Guard appeared in battle array. From every gate of the city these tried soldiers poured, and rushed upon the unprepared wings of the hostile host. Before this resistless charge the enemy recoiled, retreating with heavy loss to the heights beyond the city, and leaving Napoleon master of the field. On the next morning the battle was resumed. The allies, strongly posted, still outnumbered the French, and had abundant reason to expect THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 95 victory. But Napoleon's eagle eye quickly saw that their left wing lacked the strength (if the remainder of the line, and upon this he poured the bulk of his forces, while keeping their centre and right actively engaged. The result justified the instinct of his genius, the enemy was driven back in disastrous defeat, and once again a glorious victory was inscribed upon the banners of France — the final one in Napoleon's career (if fame. Yet the fruits of this victory were largely hist in the events of the remainder of the month. On the 26th Bliicher brilliantly defeated Marshal Macdonald on the Katzbach, in Silesia; on the 30th General ASeriesof \ andamme, with 10,000 French soldiers, was surrounded and French captured at Culm, in Bohemia; and on the 27th Hirschfeld, at Hageksberg, with a corps of volunteers, defeated Girard. The Prussian- Swedish army similarly won victories on August 25th and September 6th, and a few weeks afterward the Prussian general, Count York, supported by the troops of General i lorn, crossed the Elbe in the face of the enemy, and gained a brilliant victory at Wartenburg. Where Napoleon was present victory inclined to his banner. Where he was absent his lieute- nants suffered defeat. The struggle was everywhere fierce and desperate, but the end was at hand. The rulers of the Rhine Confederation now began to desert Napoleon and all Germany to join against him. The first to secede was Bavaria, which allied itself with Austria and joined its forces to those of the allies. During (October the hostile armies concentrated in front of The Fata i Leipzig, where was to be fought the decisive battle of the war. Meeting of The struggle promised was the most crigantic one j n wn ; cn the Armies r . at Leipzig Napoleon had ever been engaged. Against his 100,000 men was gathered a host of 300,000 Austrians, Prussians, Russians, and Swedes. We have not space to describe the multitudinous details of this mighty struggle, which continued with unabated fury for three days, October 16th, 17th, and lSth. It need scarcely be said that the generalship shown by Na- poleon in this famous contest lacked nothing of his usual brilliancy, and that he was ably seconded by Ney, Murat, Augereau, and others of his famous generals, yet the overwhelming numbers of the enemy enabled them to defy all the valor of the French and the resources of their great leader, and at evening of the i8th the armies still faced each other in battle array, the fate of the field \ el undecidi Napoleon was in no condition to renew the combat. During the long affray the French had expended no less than 250,000 cannon balls. They had but 16,000 left, which two hours' firing would exhaust. Reluctantly he gave 6 96 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE the order to retreat, and all that night the wearied and disheartened troop filed through the gates of Leipzig, leaving a rear-guard in the city, who de- fended it bravely against the swarming multitude of the foe. A disastrous blunder terminated their stubborn defence. Orders had been left to blow up the bridge across the Elster, but the mine was, by mistake, set off too soon, and the gallant garrison, 12,000 in number, with a multitude of sick and wounded, was forced to surrender as prisoners of war. The end was drawing near. Vigorously pursued, the French reached the Rhine by forced marches, defeating with heavy loss the army of Austri- ans and Bavarians which sought to block their way. The stream was crossed and the French were once more upon their own soil. After years of contest, Germany was finally freed from Napoleon's long-victorious hosts. Marked results followed. The carefully organized work of Napoleon's policy quickly fell to pieces. The kingdom of Westphalia was dissolved. _.. „ , The elector of Hesse and the dukes of Brunswick and Olden- The Break-up of Napoleon's burg returned to the thrones from which they had been driven. European The Confederation of the Rhine ceased to exist, and its states allied themselves with Austria. Denmark, long faithful to France, renounced its alliance in January, 1814. Austria regained posses- sion of Lombardy, the duke of Tuscany returned to his capital, and the Pope, Pius VII., long held captive by Napoleon, came back in triumph to Rome. A few months sufficed to break down the edifice of empire slowly reared through so many years, and almost all Europe outside of France united itself in hostility to its hated foe. Napoleon was offered peace if he would accept the Rhine as the French frontier, but his old infatuation and trust in his genius prevailed over the dic- tates of prudence, he treated the offer in his usual double-dealing way, and the allies, convinced that there could be no stable peace while he remained on the throne, decided to cross the Rhine and invade France. Blucher led his columns across the stream on the first day of 1814, Schwarzenberg marched through Switzerland into France, and Wellington crossed the Pyrenees. Napoleon, like a wolf brought to bay, France and sought to dispose of his scattered foes before they would unite, the Abdica- and began with Blucher, whom he defeated five times within Emperor 6 as man y days. The allies, still in dread of their great opponent, once more offered him peace, but his success robbed him of wisdom, he demanded more than they were willing to give, and his enemies, encouraged by a success gained by Blucher, broke off the negotiations and marched on Paris, now bent on the dethronement of their dreaded antagonist. THE FALL AND DECLINE OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE 97 A few words will bring the story of this contest to an end. France ted, its army was incapable of coping with the serried battalions marshalled against it, Paris surrendered before Napoleon could come to its defence, and in the end the emperor, vacillating and in despair, was obliged, on April 7, 1S14, to sign an unconditional act of abdication. The powers of Europe awarded him as a kingdom the diminutive island ol Elba, in the Mediterranean, with an annual income of 2,000,000 francs and an army 1 omposcd of 400 of his famous guard. The next heir to the throne returned as Louis XVIII. France was given back its old frontier of 1492, t!ie foreign armies withdrew from her soil, and the career of the great Corsican seemed at an end. In spite of their long experience with Napoleon, the event proved that the powers of Europe knew not all tin- audacity and mental resources of the man with whom the;,- had to deal. They had made what might have proved a fatal error in giving him an asylum so near the coasl ol France, whose people, inti 1 with the dream of glory through which he had so long led them, would be sure to respond enthusiastically to an appeal to rally to his support. The powers were soon to learn their error. While the Congress of Vienna, convened to restore the old constitution of Europe, was deliber- ating and disputing, its members were startled by the news that the de- throned emperor was again upon the soil of France, and that i\ apo | eon I ouis XVIII. was in full flight for the frontier. Napoleon Returns had landed on March 1, 1X15, and set out on his return to from E ba Paris, the army and the people rapidly gathering to his support. On the 30th he entered the Tuileries in a nlaze of triumph, the citizens, thoroughly dissatisfied with their brief experience of Bourbon rule, going mad with enthusiasm in his welcome. Thus began the famous period of the " Hundred Days." The powers ile, hired Napoleon to be the "enemy of nations," and armed a half million of men for his final overthrow. The fate of his desperate attempt was :- ion decided. For the first time he was to meet the British in battle, and in Wellington to encounter the only man who had definitely made head against his legions. A British army was dispatched in all haste to Belgium, Blucher with his Prussians hastened to the same region, and the mighty final struggle was at hand. The persistent and unrelenting enemies of the Corsican conqueror, the British islanders, were destined to be the agents of his overthrow. The little kingdom of Belgium was the scene of the momentous contest that brought Napoleon's marvelous career to an end. Thither he led his 9 8 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF NAPOLEON'S EMPIRE army, largely made up of new conscripts ; and thither the English and the Prussians hastened to meet him. On June 16, 1 8 1 5, the prelude to the The Gathering great battle took place. Napoleon met Bliicher at Ligny and of the Armies defeated him ; then, leaving Grouchy to pursue the Prussians, in Belgium j le turnec } a g a i ns t his island foes. On the same day Ney en- countered the forces of Wellington at Ouatre Bras, but failed to drive them back. On the 1 7th Wellington took a new position at Waterloo, and awaited there his great antagonist. June 1 8th was the crucial day in Napoleon's career, the one in which his power was to fall, never to rise again. Here we shall but sketch in out- line this famous battle, reserving a fuller account of it for our next chapter, The Terrible under the story of Wellington, the victor in the fray. The Defeat at stupendous struggle, as Wellington himself described it, was "a battle of giants." Lone: the result wavered in the balance. All day long the British sustained the desperate assaults of their antagonists. Terrible was the contest, frightful the loss of life. Hour after hour passed, charge after charge was hurled by Napoleon against the British lines, which still closed up over the dead and stood firm ; and it seemed as if night would fall with the two armies unflinchingly face to face, neither of them victor in the terrible fray. The arrival of Bliicher with his Prussians turned the scale. To Napo- leon's bitter disappointment Grouchy, who should have been close on the heels of the Prussians, failed to appear, and the weary and dejected French were left to face these fresh troops without support. Napoleon's Old Guard in vain flung itself into the gap, and the French nation long repeated in pride the saying attributed to the commander of this famous corps : "The guard dies, but it never surrenders." In the end the French army broke and fled in disastrous rout, three- fourths of the whole force being left dead, wounded, or prisoners, while all its artillery became the prize of the victors. Napoleon, pale and confused, was led by Soult from the battlefield. It was his last fight, His Fate * ' ^' s abdication Avas demanded, and he resigned the crown in favor of his son. A hopeless and unnerved fugitive, he fled from Paris to Rochefort, hoping to escape to America. But the British fleet held that port, and in despair he went on board a vessel of the fleet, trusting himself to the honor of the British nation. But the statesmen of England had no sympathy with the vanquished adventurer, from whose ambition Europe had suffered so terribly. He was sent as a state prisoner to the island of St. Helena, there to end his days. His final hour of glory came in 1842, when his ashes were brought in pomp and display to Paris. Ig 12 ■ 1 If 2 t o < r» n *i o (S * ?9 -» O O »4 3 o 3 o ■ B 3 n <* O 2.1 L.ofC. WELLINGTON AT WATERLOO GIVING THE WORD TO ADVANCE This spirited illustration figures the final event in the mighty struggle at Waterloo, when the French, after hurling themselves a dozen ves upon a rock-bound shore, staggered back in despair, and Wellington times against the unyielding British ranks, like gave the magic word of command : " Let a] torm i the line adv CHAPTER V Nelson and Wellington, the Champions of England. FOR nearly twenty years went on the stupendous struggle between Napoleon theGreat and the powers of Europe, but in all that time, .md among the multitude of men who met the forces of France in battle, only two names emerge which the world cares to remember, those ol Horatio Nelson, the most famous of the admirals ol England, and Lord Wellington, who alone seemed able to overthrow the greatest military genius of modern times. On land the efforts ol Napoleon were seconded bythe intrepidity of a galaxy of heroes. Ney, Murat, Moreau, Massena, and other men of fame. At sea the story reads differently. That era of stress and strain raised no great admiral in the service of France; Englandand her ships were feebly commanded, and the fleet of Great Franceon Britain, under the daring Nelson, kept its proud place as an Sea mistress of the The first proof ol this came before the opening of the century, when Napoleon, led by the ardor of his ambition, landed in Egypt, with vague hopes of rivaling in the East the far-famed exploits of Alexander the Great. The fleet which bore him thither remained moored in Aboukir Bay, where Nelson, scouring the Mediterranean in cove rs the quest of it, first came in sight of its serried line of ships on Trench Fleet August I, 1798. One alternative alone dwelt in his cour- '"Aboukir & ' 7 Bay ageous soul, that of a heroic death or a glorious victory. 'Before this time to-morrow 1 shall have gained a victory <>r Westmii Abbey," he said. In the mighty contest that follow 1 French had the advantage in numbers, alike of ships, guns, and men. They were drawn up in a strong and compact line of battle, moored in a manner that promised to bid defiance to a force double their own. They lay in an open roadstead, but had every advantage of situation, the British fleet being obliged to attack them in a position carefully chosen for defence. ( )nly the genius of Nelson enabled him 10 overcome those advantages of the enemy. "If we succeed, what will the world say ?" asked Captain Berry, on hearing the admiral's plan of battle. " There is no if in the case," answered the admiral. " That we shall sm is certain : who may live to tell the story is a very different question." ioii io2 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND The story of the " Battle of the Nile " belongs to the record of The Glorious eighteenth century affairs. All we need say here is that it Battle of the ended in a glorious victory for the English fleet. Of thirteen N,,e " ships of the line in the French fleet, only two escaped. Of four frigates, one was sunk and one burned. The British loss was 895 men. Of the French, 5,225 perished in the terrible fray. Nelson sprang, in a moment, from the position of a man without fame into that of the naval, hero of the world — as Dewey did in as famous a fray almost exactly a century later. Congratulations and honors were showered upon him, the Sultan of Turkey rewarded him with costly presents, valuable testimonials came from other quarters, and his own country honored him with the title of Baron Nelson of the Nile, and settled upon him for life a pension of ,£2,000. The first great achievement of Nelson in the nineteenth century was the result of a daring resolution of the statesmen of England, in their desperate contest with the Corsican conqueror. By his exploit at the Nile the admiral had very seriously weakened the sea-power of France. But there were powers then in alliance with France — Russia, Sweden and Den- mark — -which had formed a confederacy to make England respect their naval rights, and whose combined fleet, if it should come to the aid ol France, might prove sufficient to sweep the ships of England from the seas. The weakest of these powers, and the one most firmly allied to France, was Denmark, whose fleet, consisting of twenty-three ships of the line and about thirty-one frigates and smaller vessels, lay at Copenhagen. At any moment this powerful fleet might be put at the disposal of Napoleon. This possible danger the British cabinet resolved to avoid. A plan was laid to destroy the fleet of the Danes, and on the 12th of March, 1801, the British fleet sailed with the purpose of putting this resolution into effect. The Fleet Nelson, then bearing the rank of vice-admiral, went with Sails for the fleet, but only as second in command. To the disgust ..open tagen Q £ ^ E n gi; s h p e0 pl e> Sir Hyde Parker, a brave and able seaman, but one whose name history has let sink into oblivion, was given chief command — a fact which would have insured the failure of the expedi- tion if Nelson had not set aside precedent, and put glory before duty. Parker, indeed, soon set Nelson chafing by long drawn-out negotiations, which proved useless, wasted time, and saved the Danes from being taken by surprise. When, on the morning of April 30th, the British fleet at length advanced through the Sound and came in sight of the Danish line of defence, they beheld formidable preparations to meet them. Eighteen vessels, including full-rigged ships and hulks, were moored in a line nearly a mile and a half in length, flanked to the northward by two NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENLGAND 103 artificial islands mounted with sixty-eight heavy cannon and supplied with furnaces for heating shot. Near by lay two large block-ships. The Danish Across tin- harbor's mouth extended a massive chain, and Line of shore batteries commanded the channel. Outside the harbor's Def ence mouth were moored two 74-gun ships, a 40-gun frigate, and some smaller vessels. In addition to these defences, which stretched for nearly four miles in length, was the difficulty of the channel, always hazardous from its shoals, and now beaconed with falsi: buoys for the purpose of luring the British ships to destruction. With modern defences — rapid-fire guns and steel-clad batteries — the enterprise would have been hopeless, but the art of defence was then at a far lower level. Nelson, who led the van in the 74-gun ship Elephant, gazed on these preparations with admiration, but with no evidence of doubt as to the result. The British fleet consisted of eighteen line of battle ships, with a large number of frigates and other craft, and with this force, and his in- domitable spirit, he felt confident of breaking these formidable lines. At ten o'clock on the morning of April 2d the battle began, two of the British ships running aground almost before a gun was fired. The \ttack on At sight of this disaster Nelson instantly changed his plan of the Danish sailing, starboarded his helm, and sailed in, dropping anchor et within a cable's length of the Dannebrog, of 62 guns. The other ships fol- lowed his example, avoiding the shoals on which the fiellonaand ftussellhad grounded, and taking position at the close quarters of 100 fathoms from the Danish ships. A terrific cannonade followed, kept up by both sides with unrelenting fury for three hours, and with terrible effect on the contesting ships and their crews. At this juncture took place an event that has made Nelson's name immortal among naval heroes Admiral Parker, whose flag-ship lay at a distance from the hot fight, but who heard the incessant and furious fire and saw the grounded ships flying signals of distress, began to fear that Nel- son was in serious danger, from which it was his duty to withdraw him. At about one o'clock he reluctantly hoisted a signal for the action to cease. At this moment Nelson was pacing the quarter-deck of the Elephant, inspired with all the fury of the tight; " It is a warm business," he said to Colonel Stewart, who was on the ship with him ; "and any moment may lie the last of either of us; but, mark you, I would not for thousands be any- where else." As lie spoke the flag-lieutenant reported that the signal to cease action was shown on the mast-head of the flag-ship London, and asked if he should report it to the fleet. so4 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND " No," was the stern answer ; " merely acknowledge it. Is our signal for 'close action ' still flying f" " Yes," replied the officer. " Then see that you keep it so," said Nelson, the stump Answered the of his amputated arm working as it usually did when he was Signal to agitated. " Do you know," he asked Colonel Stewart, " the meaning of signal No. 39, shown by Parker's ships?" " No. What does it mean ?" " To leave off action !" He was silent a moment, then burst out, " Now damn me if I do !" Turning to Captain Foley, who stood near him, he said : " Foley, you know I have only one eye ; I have a right to be blind sometimes." He raised his telescope, applied it to his blind eye, and said : " I really do not see the signal." On roared the guns, overhead on the Elephant still streamed the signal for "close action," and still the torrent of British balls rent the Danish ships. In half an hour more the fire of the Danes was fast weakening. In an hour it had nearly ceased. They had suffered frightfully, in ships and lives, and only the continued fire of the shore batteries now kept the contest alive. It was impossible to take possession of the prizes, and Nelson sent a flag ol truce ashore with a letter in which he threatened to burn the vessels, with all on board, unless the shore fire was stopped. This threat proved effec- tive, the fire ended, the great battle was at an end. At four o'clock Nelson went on board the London, to meet the admiral. He was depressed in spirit, and said : " I have fought contrary to orders, and may be hanged ; never mind, let them." There was no danger of this ; Parker was not that kind of man. He had raised the signal through fear for Nelson's safety, and now gloried in his success, giving congratulations where his subordinate looked for blame. The Danes had fought bravely and stubbornly, but they had no commander of the spirit and genius of Nelson, and were forced to yield to British pluck and endurance. Until June 13th, Nelson remained in the Baltic, watching the Russian fleet which he might still have to fight. Then came orders for his return home, and word reached him that he had been created Viscount Nelson for his services. There remains to describe the last and most famous of Nelson's exploits, that in which he put an end to the sea-power of France, by destroy- ing the remainder of her fleet at Trafalgar, and met death at the moment of victory. Four years had passed since the fight at Copenhagen. During much of that time Nelson had kept his fleet on guard off Toulon, impatiently NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 105 waiting until the enemy should venture from that port of refuge. At length, the combined fleet of France and Spain, now in alliance, escaped his vigil- ance, and sailed to the West Indies to work havoc in the Nelson in Chase British colonics. He; followed them thither in all haste; and of the French subsequently, on their return to France, he chased them back eet across the seas, burning with eagerness to bring them to bay. On the 19th of < >ctober, 1805, the allied fleet put to sea from the harbor of Cadiz, confident that its great strength would enable it to m any force the British had upon the waxes. Admiral De Villeneuve, with thirty-three ships of the line and a considerable number of smaller craft, had orders to force the straits of Gibraltar, land troops at Naples, sweep British cruisers and comm the M nean, and then seek the port of Toulon to refit. As it turned out, he never reached the straits, his fleet meeting its fate before it could leave the Atlantic waves. Nelson had ched the coast of Europe again, and was close at hand when the doomed ships of the allies appeared. Two switt ocean scouts saw Tne A n ied the movements, and hastened to Lord Nelson with the wel- Fleet Leaves come news that the long-deferred moment was at hand. On ' z the 2 1st, the British fleet came within view, and the following signal was set on the mast-head of the flag-ship: "The French and Spaniards are out at last; they outnumber us in ships and guns and men ; we are on the eve of the greatest sea-fight in history." On came the ships, great lumbering craft, strangely unlike the war- vessels of to-day. Instead of the trim, grim, ' .\-\. steam-driven modern battle-ship, with its revolving turret, and great frowning, breech- loading guns, sending their balls through mil lir, tho bluff- bowed, ungainly hulks, with bellying sides towering like black walls abo the sea as if to make the largest mark pi for hostile shot, with a great show of muzzle-loading guns of small range, while overhead rose lofty sp and spreading sails. Ships they were that to-day would be sent to the bottom in five minutes of fight, but which, mated against others of the same build, were capable of giving a gallant account of themselvi It was off the shoals of Cape Trafalgar, near the southern extremity of Spain, that the two fleets met, and such a tornado ap ^ oi fire as has rarely been seen upon the ocean waves was poured from their broad and lofty sides. As they came together there floated from the masthead of the I . Nelson's flagship, that signal which has become the watchword of the British isles : " England expects that every man will do his duty." io6 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND We cannot follow the fortunes of all the vessels in that stupendous fray, the most famous sea-fight in history. It must serve to follow the Victory in her course, in which Nelson eagerly sought to thrust himself into The "Victory" tne heart of the fight and dare death in his quest for victory. and Her Bril- He was not long in meeting his wish. Soon he found himself in a nest of enemies, eight ships at once pouring their fire upon his devoted vessel, which could not bring a gun to bear in return, the wind having died away and the ship lying almost motionless upon the waves. Before the Victory was able to fire a shot fifty of her men had fallen killed or wounded, and her canvas was pierced and rent till it looked like a series of fishing nets. But the men stuck to their guns with unyielding tenacity, and at length their opportunity came. A 68-pounder carronade, loaded with a round shot and 500 musket balls, was fired into the cabin windows of the Buccntaurc, with such terrible effect as to disable 400 men and 20 guns, and put the ship practically out of the fight. The Victory next turned upon the Neptune and the Redoubtable, of the enemy's fleet. The Neptune, not liking her looks, kept off, but she collided and locked spars with the Redoubtable, and a terrific fight began. On the opposite side of the Redoubtable came the British ship Temeraire, and opposite it again a second ship of the enemy, the four vessels lying bow to bow, and rending one another's sides with an incessant hail of balls. On the Victory the gunners were ordered to depress their pieces, that the balls should not go through and wound the Temeraire beyond. The muzzles of their cannon fairly touched the enemy's side, and after each shot a bucket of water was dashed into the rent, that they may not set fire to the vessel which they confidently expected to take as a prize. In the midst of the hot contest came the disaster already spoken of. Brass swivels were mounted in the French ship's tops to sweep with their fire the deck of their foe, and as Nelson and Captain Hardy paced together their poop deck, regardless of danger, the admiral suddenly fell.' A ball from one of these guns had reached the noblest mark on the fleet. The Great Battle "They have done for me at last, Hardy," the fallen and its Sad man said. " Don't say you are hit ! " cried Hardy in dismay. "Yes, my backbone is shot through." His words were not far from the truth. He never arose from that latal shot. Yet, dying as he was, his spirit survived. " I hope none of our ships have struck, Hardy,'' he feebly asked, in a later interval of the fight. AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 107 •' No, my lord. There is small fear of that," " I'm a dead man, Hardy, but I'm glad of what you say. Whip them now you've got them. Whip them as they've never been whipped before." Another hour passed. Hardy came below again to say thai fourteen or fifteen of tin enemy's ships had struck. " That's better, though I bargained lor twenty," said the dying man. ''And now, anchor, 1 lardy— anchor." " I suppose, my lord, that Admiral Collingwood will now take the dire, lion of affairs." "Not while 1 live," exclaim.-d Nelson, with a momentary return of energy. "Do you anchor, Hardy." "Then shall we make tb . :ny lord." •' Yes, for if 1 live, I'll anchor." That was the end. Five minutes later Horatio Nelson, victory for England's greatest sea ipion, w; dead. He had won Hn S iand and & & r „ , , Death for Her not " Victory and Westminster Abbej il victory and a Pam()US noble resting place in St. Paul's Cathedral. Admiral Collingwood did not anchor, but stood out to sea with the eighteen pri; of the hard fought fray. In the gale that followed many of the results of victory were lost, lour of the ships being retaken, some wrecked on shore, some foundering at sea. only four reaching British waters in Gibraltar Bay. But whatever was lost, Nelson's fame was secure, and the victory at Trafalgar is treasured as one of the most famous triumphs of British arms. The naval battle at Copenhagen, won by Nelson, was followed, six years later, by a combined land and naval expedition in which Wellington, Eng- land's other champion, took part. Again inspired by the fear thai Napoleon might use the Danish fleel for his own purposes, the British government, though al peace with Denmark, sent a fleet to Copenhagen, irded and captured the city, and the 1 >anish ships. A battle took place on land in which Wellington (then Sir Arthur Wellesley) won an easy victory and, captured 10,000 men. The whole business was an inglorious one, a dishonorable incident in a struggle in which the defeat of Napaleon si first, honor second Among the English themselves some defended it on the plea of policy, some called it piracy and murder. Not long afterwards England prepared to take a serious part on land in the desperate contest with Napoleon, and sent p !i fT a British force to Portugal, then held by the French army of invasion under Marshal Junot. This force, 10,000 strong, was commanded by Sir Arthur Wellesley, and landed July 30, 1808, at Mondego Bay. He was soon joined by General Spencer from Cadiz, with 13,000 men. ioS NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND The French, far from home and without support, were seriously alarmed at this invasion, and justly so, for they met with defeat in a sharp battle at Vimeira, and would probably have been forced to surrender as prisoners of war had not the troops been called off from pursuit by Sir Harry Burrard, who had been sent out to supersede Wellesley in command. The end of it all was a truce, and a convention under whose terms the French troops were permitted to evacuate Portugal with their arms and baggage and return to France. This release of Junot from a situation which precluded escape so disgusted Wellesley that he threw up his command and returned to The Death of England. Other troops sent out under Sir John Moore and Sir John Sir David Baird met a superior force of French in Spain, and their expedition ended in disaster. Moore was killed while the troops were embarking to return home, and the memory of this affair has been preserved in the famous ode, " The burial of Sir John Moore," from which we quote : " We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sod with our bayonets turning, By the glimmering moonbeams' misty light ' And the lanterns dimly burning." In April, 1809, Wellesley returned to Portugal, now chief in command, to begin a struggle which was to continue until the fall of Napoleon. There were at that time about 20,000 British soldiers at Lisbon, while the French had in Spain more than 300,000 men, under such generals as Ney, Soult, and Victor. The British, indeed, were aided by a large number of natives in arms. But these, though of service as guerillas, were almost useless in reg- ular warfare. Wellesley was at Lisbon. Oporto, 170 miles north, was held by Mar- shal Soult, who had recently taken it. Without delay Wellington marched The Gallant thither, and drove the French outposts across the river Douro. Crossing of But in their retreat they burned the bridge of boats across the river, seized every boat they could find, and rested in security, defying their foes to cross. Soult, veteran officer though he was, fancied that he had disposed of Wellesley, and massed his forces on the sea- coast side of the town, in which quarter alone he looked for an attack. He did not know his antagonist. A few skiffs were secured, and a small party of British was sent across the stream. The French attacked them, but they held their ground till some others joined them, and by the time Soult was informed of the clanger Wellesley had landed a large force and controlled a good supply of boats. A battle followed in which the French were routed and forced to retreat. But the only road by which theit ft = B r. ft 3* £ « 3 • 5? * =:: J) a T : O r - n :% O s z o -n = x =. o s s -Is £ H -." m ■;■ r ? ° O -a rro. i a S ^ 2 o 5 > «« < °± _ - t* Z rf a < 13 i. rt 5 «• U jj O o v "5J3 Z-.a Su ta Ul g-_ x = ° u :s x *3 l- Si NEl ' WELLINGTON. THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND m artillery or baggage could be moved had been seized b) l I Beresford, and was strongly held. In consequence Soult was forced to on all his wagons and cannon and make his escape by bye-roads into Spain. This signal victory was followed by another on fuly 27, 1S09, when Wellesley. with 20.000 British soldiers and about 40,000 Span- _. .„ . „ , . . The \ Ictory at ish allies, met a French army of 60,000 men at Talavera in Talaveraand Spain. The battle that succeeded lasted two days. The brunt the victor's . Reward of it fell upon the British, the Spaniards proving of little use, yet it ended in the defeat of the French, who retired unmolested, the British being too exhausted to pursue. The tidings of this victory were received with the utmost enthusiasm in England. It was shown by it that British valor could win battles against Napoleon's on land as well as on sea. Wellesley received the warmest thanks of the king, and, like Nelson, was rewarded by being raised to the peerage, being given the titles of Baron Douro of Wellesley and Viscount Wellington of Talavera. In future we shall call him by his historic title of Wellington. Men and supplies just then would have served Wellington better than titles. With strong support he could have marched on and taken Madrid. As it was, he hit obliged to retire upon the fortress of Badajoz, near the. frontier of Portugal. Spain was swarming with French soldiers, who were gradually collected there until they exceeded 350,000 men. Of these 80,000, under the command of Massena, were sent to act against the British. Before this strong force Wellington found it necessary to draw back, and the frontier fortresses of Almeida and Ciudad RodrigfO were taken bv the French. Well- ington's first stand was on the heights of Busaco, September, 1810. Here, with 30,000 men, he withstood all the attacks of the French, who in the end were forced to withdraw. Massena then tried to gain the road between Lisbon and ( )porto, whereupon Wellington quickly retreated towards Lisbon. The British general had during the winter been very usefully employed. The road by which Lisbon must be approached passes the village of Torres Iras, and here two strong lines of earthworks were con- „, ,„ ' o _ \\ ellf niton's structed, some twenty-five miles in length, stretching from impregnable the sea to the Tagus, and effectually securing Lisbon against Unesat Torres \'eilriis attack. These works had been built with such secrecy and despatch that the French were quite ignorant of their existence, and Massena, marching in confidence upon tht Portuguese capital, was amazed ami chagrined on finding before him this formidable barrier. It was strongly defended, and all his efforts to take it proved in vain. He then tried to reduce the British by famine, but in this he was equally H2 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND baffled, food being poured into Lisbon from the sea. He tried by a feigned retreat to draw the British from their works, but this stratagem failed of effect, and for four months more the armies remained inactive. At length the exhaustion of the country of provisions made necessary a real retreat, and Massena withdrew across the Spanish frontier, halting near Salamanca. Of the proud force with which Napoleon proposed to " drive the British leopards into the sea," more than half had vanished in this luckless cam- paign. But though the French army had withdrawn from Portugal, the frontier fortresses were still in French hands, and of these Almeida, near the borders, was the first to be attacked by Wellington's forces. The Siege and . . . . . . .,..,, Capture of Massena advanced with 50,000 men to its relief, and the two the Por- armies met at Fuentes-de-Onoro, May 4, 1811. The French made attacks on the 5th and 6th, 'but were each time repulsed, Fortresses ^ r ' and on the 7th Massena retreated, sending orders to the gov- ernor of Almeida to destroy the fortifications and leave the place. Another battle was fought in front of Badajoz of the most sanguinary character, the total loss of the two armies being 15,000 killed and wounded. For a time the British seemed threatened with inevitable defeat, but the fortune of the day was turned into victory by a desperate charge. Subse- quently Ciuclad Rodrigo was attacked, and was carried by storm, in January, 1812. Wellington then returned to Badajoz, which was also taken by storm, after a desperate combat in which the victors lost 5,000 men, a number exceeding that of the whole French garrison. These continued successes of the British were seriously out of conso- nance with the usual exploits of Napoleon's armies. He was furious with his marshals, blaming them severely, and might have taken their place in the struggle with Wellington but that his fatal march to Russia was about Wellington to begin. The fortress taken, Wellington advanced into WinsatSala= Spain, and on July 21st encountered the French army under mancaand Marmont before the famous old town of Salamanca. The Enters Madrid . . r . battle, one ot the most stubbornly contested in which Welling- ton had yet been engaged, ended in the repulse of the French, and on August 1 2th the British army marched into Madrid, the capital of Spain, from which King Joseph Bonaparte had just made his second flight. Wellington's next effort was a siege of the strong fortress of Burgos. This proved the one failure in his military career, he being obliged to raise the siege after several weeks of effort. In the following year he was strongly reinforced, and with an army numbering nearly 200,000 men he marched on the retreating enemy, meeting them at Vittoria, near the boundary of NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGL France and Spain, on June 21, 1813. The French wop- for the first time in this war in a minority. They v heavily encumbered with baggag the spoils of their occupation of Spain. The battle ended in 1 . . , Vittonaand the a complete victor}' for Wellington, who captured 157 cannon p yre nees and a vast quantity of plunder, including the spoils ol Madrid and of the 1 of the kings of Spain. The specie, of which a large sum was taken, quickly disappeared among the troops, and failed to reach the treasure chests of the army. The French were now everywhere on the retreat. Soult, after a vigor- ous effort to drive the British from the passes of the Pyrenees, withdrew, and Wellington and his army soon stood on tin; soil of France. A victory over Soult at Nivelle, and aseriesof successes in the following spring, ended the Ion-- Peninsular War, the abdication of Napoleon closing the Ion- and terrible drama of battle. In the whole six years of struggle Wellington had not once been defeated on the battlefield. Mis military career had not y 1 d. His great day of glory was still to come, that in which he was to meet Napoleon himself in the field, and, for the first time in the history of the great Corsican, drive back his army in utter rout. A year or more had passed since the events just narrated. In June, 1815, Wellington found himself at the head of an army some 100,000 strong, encamped around Brussels, the capital of Belgium. It was a The Gathering mingled group of British, Dutch, Belgian, Hanoverian, Ger- oftheForces man, and oilier troops, hastily got together, and many of them not safely to be depended upon. Of the British, numbers had never be under lire. Marshal Blucher, with an equal force of Prussian troops, was near at hand; the two forces prepared to meet the rapidly advancing Napoleon. We have already told of the defeat of Blucher at Ligny, and the attack on Wellington at Quatre Bras. On the evening of the 17th the army, re- treating from Quatre Bras, encamped on the historic field of Waterloo in a drenching rain, that turned the roads into streams, the fields into swamps. !.\11 night long the rain came down, the sold airing the Hood with what patience they could. In the morning it ceased, tiros were kindled, and active preparations began for the terrible struggle at hand. Here ran a shallow valley, bounded by two ridges, the . -" & ' the Battlefield northern of which was occupied by the British, while Napoleon ot - \v ate rloo ted his army on its arrival along the southern ridge On the slope before the British centre was the white-walled farm house of La Have Sainte, and in front of the right wing the chateau of Hougoumont, U4 NELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND with its various stout stone buildings. Both of these were occupied by men of Wellington's army, and became leading points in the struggle of the day. It was nine o'clock in the morning before the van-guard of the French army made its appearance on the crest of the southern ridge. By half-past ten 61,000 soldiers, — infantry, cavalry, and artillery — lay encamped in full sight. About half-past eleven came the first attack of that remarkable day, during which the French waged an aggressive battle, the British stood on the defensive. This first attack was directed against Hougoumont, around which there The Desperate was a desperate contest. At this point the affray went on, in Charges of successive waves of attack and repulse, all day long; yet still the French ^ British held the buildings, and all the fierce valor of the French failed to gain them a foothold within. About two o'clock came a second attack, preceded by a frightful can- nonade upon the British left and centre. Four massive columns, led by Ney, poured steadily forward straight for the ridge, sweeping upon and around the farm-stead of La Haye Sainte, but met at every point by the sabres and bayonets of the British lines. Nearly 24,000 men took part in this great movement, the struggle lasting more than an hour before the French staggered back in repulse. Then from the French lines came a stupendous cavalry charge, the massive columns composed of no less than forty squadrons of cuirassiers and dragoons, filling almost all the space between Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte as they poured like a torrent upon the British lines. Torn by artillery, rent by musketry ; checked, reformed ; charging again, and again driven back ; they expended their strength and their lives on the infantry squares that held their ground with the grimmest obstinacy. Once more, now strengthened by the cavalry of the Imperial Guard, they came on to carnage and death, shattering themselves against those unyielding squares, and in the end repulsed with frightful loss. The day was now well advanced, it being half-past four in the after- noon ; the British had been fearfully shaken by the furious efforts of the F"rench ; when, emerging from the woods at St. Lambert, Blucher's appeared the head of a column of fresh troops. Who were Prussians rr t r , and the they? Blucher's Prussians, or Grouchy's pursuing French? Charge of On the answer to this question depended the issue of that Old Guard terrible day. The question was soon decided ; they were the Prussians ; no sign appeared of the French ; the hearts of the British beat high with hope and those of the French sank low in despair, for these fresh troops could not fail to decide the fate of that mighty KELSON AND WELLINGTON, THE CHAMPIONS OF ENGLAND 115 field oi battle. Soon the: final struggle came. Napoleon, driven to despera- tion, launch) d his -rand reserve corps, the far-famed Imperial Guard, upon his enemies. On they come, with Ney at their head; on them pours a terrible torrent of flame; from a distance the front ranks appear stationary, but only because they meet a death-line as they come, and fall in bleeding rows. Then on them, in a wild charge, rush the British Foot Guards, take them in flank, and soon all is over. " The Guard dies, but never surrenders," says their commander. Die they do, few of them surviving to take part in that mad flight which swept Napoleon from the field and closed the fatal day of Waterloo. England has won the great victory, now nearly a century old, and Wellington from that day of triumph takes rank with the greatest of British heroes. CHAPTER VI. From the Napoleonic Wars to the Revolution of 1830 THE terrific struggle of the "Hundred Days," which followed Napo- leon's return from Elba and preceded his exile to St. Helena, made a serious break in the deliberations of the Congress of Vienna, con- vened for the purpose of recasting the map of Europe, which Napoleon had so sadly transformed, of setting aside the radical work of the French A Quarter Revolution, and, in a word, of turning back the hands of the Century of clock of time. Twenty-five years of suck turmoil and volcanic disturbance as Europe had rarely known were at an end ; the ruling powers were secure of their own again ; the people, worn-out with the long and bitter struggle, welcomed eagerly the return of rest and peace ; and the emperors and kings deemed it a suitable time to throw overboard the load of new ideas under which the European "ship of state " seemed to them likely to founder. The Congress of Vienna was, in its way, a brilliant gathering. It included, mainly as handsome ornaments, the emperors of Russia and Austria, the kings of Prussia, Denmark, Bavaria and Wurtemberg ; and, as its working element, the leading statesmen of Europe, including the Eng- lish Castlereagh and Wellington, the French Talleyrand, the ^•ViTifnT 8 Prussian Hardenberg, and the Austrian Metternich. Checked in its deliberations for a time by Napoleon's fierce hundred days' death struggle, it quickly settled down to work again, having before it the vast task of undoing the mighty results of a quarter of a century of revolution. For the French Revolution had broadened into an European revolution, with Napoleon and his armies as its great instruments. The whole continent had been sown thickly during the long era of war with the Napoleonic ideas, and a crop of new demands and conditions had grown up not easily to be uprooted. Reaction was the order of the day in the Vienna Congress. The shaken power of the monarchs was to be restored, the map of Europe to be readjusted, the people to be put back into the submissive condition which they occupied before that eventful 1789, when the States-General of France began its momentous work of overturning the equilibrium of the world. FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 117 As for the people, deeply infected as they were with the new liberty and the rights of man, which had made their way R Urop e After far beyond the borders of France, they were for the time worn- Napoleon's out with strife and turmoil, and settled hack supinely to enjoy the welcome era of rest, leaving their fate in the hands of the astute plenipotentiaries who were gathered in their wisdom at Vienna. These worthy tools of the monarchs had an immense task before them — too large a one, as it proved. It was easy to talk about restorin the nations the territory they had possessed before Napoleon began his career as ;i map-maker; but it was not easy to do so except at the cost of new wars. The territories of many of the powers had been added to by the French emperor, and they were not likely to give up their new posses- sions without a vigorous protest. In German) - the changes had been enormous. Napoleon had found there more than three hundred separate states, some no larger than a small American count)-, yet each possessed of the paraphernalia of a court and sovereign, a capital, an army and a public debt. And these were feebly combined into the phantasm known as the Holy Roman Empire. When Napoleon had finished his work this empire had ceased to exist, except as a tradition, and the great galaxy of soven states was reduced to thirty-nine. These included the gnat dominions of Austria and Prussia; the smaller states of Bavaria, Saxony, Hanover and Wurtemberg, which Napoleon had raised into kingdoms; and a vastly ced group of minor states. The work done here it was somewhat dangerous to meddle with. The small potentates of Germany were like so many bull-dogs, glaring jealously across their new borders, and read) - to fly at one another's throats at any suggestion of a change. The utmost they would yield was to be united into a confederacy he\ orkof 1 ■ . . , J the Congress called the Bund, with a Diet meeting at Frankfurt. But as the dele- the Diet were given no law-making power, the Bund became an empty farce. The great powers took care to regain their lost possessions, or to replace them with an equal amount of territory. Prussia and Austria spread out again to their old size, though they did not cover quite the old ground. Most of their domains in Poland were given up, Prussia getting new terri- tory in Wi I ■ rermany and Austria in Italy. Their provinces in Poland were ceded to Alexander of Russia, who added to them some of his own Polish dominions, ami formed a new kingdom of Poland, lie bring its king. So in a shadow)- way Poland was brought to life again. England got for her share in the spoils a number of French and Dutch colonies, including Malta and the Cape Colony in Africa. Thuseach of thegreat powers repaid itself for its losses. ii 8 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO \8 3 o In Italy a variety of changes were made. The Pope got back the: Scates of the Church ; Tuscany was restored to its king ; the same was the case with Naples, King Murat being driven from his throne andSpahi*' an< ^ P ut to death. Piedmont, increased by the Republic of Genoa, was restored to the king of Sardinia. Some smaller states were formed, as Parma, Modena, and Lucca. Finally, Lombardy and Venice, much the richest regions of Italy, were given to Austria, which country was made the dominant power in the Italian peninsula. Louis XVIII., the Bourbon king, brother of Louis XVI., who had reigned while Napoleon was at Elba, came back to the throne of France. The title of Louis XVII. was given to the poor boy, son of Louis XVI., who died from cruel treatment in the dungeons of the Revolution. In Spain the feeble Ferdinand returned to the throne which he had given up without a protest at the command of Napoleon. Portugal was given a monarch of its old dynasty. All seemed to have floated back into the old conditions again. As for the rights of the people, what had become of them ? Had they been swept away and the old wrongs of the people been brought back ? Not quite. The frenzied enthusiasm for liberty and human rights of the past twenty-five years could not go altogether for nothing. The of Man * lingering relics of feudalism had vanished, not only from France but from all Europe, and no monarch or congress could bring them back again. In its place the principles of democracy had spread from France far among the peoples of Europe. The principle of class privilege had been destroyed in France, and that of social equality had replaced it. The principle of the liberty of the individual, especially in his religious opinions, and the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people, had been proclaimed. These had still a battle before them. They needed to fight their way. Absolutism and the spirit of feudalism were arrayed against them. But they were too deeply implanted in the minds of the people to be eradicated, and their establishment as actual conditions has been the most important part of the political development of the nineteenth century. Revolution was the one thing that the great powers of Europe feared and hated ; this was the monster against which the Congress of Vienna directed its efforts. The cause of quiet and order, the preservation of the established state of things, the authority of rulers, the subordination of peoples, must be firmly maintained, and revolutionary disturbers must be put down with a strong hand. Such was the political dogma of the Congress. And yet, in spite of its assembled wisdom and the principles it promul- James watt-The Father of the Steam Engine 11 ' S '.n t ,h e » S r eam ""I' 1 " 1 'u a ' ' he w ™ derfu ' productive progress of recent times is largely dw, and to the famous Scotch engineer, James Watt, belongs the honor of inventing The first effective steam engine. His idea of condensing the steam from his engine in a separate vessel came to him in 1765, and with this fortunate concep- tion began the wonderful series of improvements which have given us the magnificent engine of to-dav FROM THE NAPOLOENIC WARS TO / 121 grated, i ■ nineteenth century has been especially the century of revolutions, actual or virtual, the resuh being an extraordinary growth in the liberl and prerogatives of the people. The plan devised by the Congress for the suppression ol revolution was the establishment ol an association ol monarchs, which became known as tlic Holy Alliance. Alexander of Russia, Francis of Austria, and Frederick William of Prussia formed a cove- Alliance nant to rule in accordance- with the precepts ol the Bible, to stand by each other in a true fraternity, to rule their subjects as loving parents, and to see that peace, justice, and religion should flourish in their dominions. An ideal scheme it was, but its promulgators soon won the name of hypocrites and the hatred of those whom they were to deal with on the principle of love and brotherhood. Reaction was the watchword. absolute sovereignty the purpose, the eradication of the doctrine of popular sovereignty the sentiment, which animated these powerful monarchs; and the Holy Alliance meant practically the determination to unite their fore against democracy and revolution wherever they should show themselves. It was not long before the people began to move. The attempt to re-establish absolute governments shook them out of their sluggish quiet. Revolution lifted its head again in the face of the Holy devolution j„ Alliance, its first field being Spain. Ferdinand VII., on Spain and returning to his throne, had but one purpose in his weak ap es mind, which was to rule as an autocrat, as his ancestors had done. Ib- swore to govern according to a constitution, and began his reign with a perjury. The patriots had formed a constitution during his absence, and this he set aside and never replaced by another. On the contrary, he set out to abolish all the reforms made by Napoleon, and to restore the monas- teries, to bring back the inquisition, and to prosecute the patriots. Five \ ears of this reaction made the state of affairs in Spain so intolerable that the liberals refused to submit to it any longer. In [820 th in revolt, and the king, a coward under all his show of bravery, at once gave way and restored the constitution he hail set aside. The shock given the Holy Alliance by the news from Spain was quickly followed by another coming from Naples. The Bourbon king who had been replaced upon the throne of that country, another Ferdinand, was one of the most despicable men of his not greatly esteemed race. His govern- ment, while weak, was harshly oppressive. but it did not need a revolution to frighten this royal dastard. A mere general celebration of the victory of the liberals in Spain was enough, ami in his alarm he hastened to give his people a constitution similar to that which the Spaniards had gained. I22 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO iSjo These awkward affairs sadly disturbed the equanimity of those states- men who fancied that they had fully restored the divine right of kings. Metternich, the Austrian advocate of reaction, hastened to call a new Con- Metternich g ress . m 1820, and another in 1S21. The question he put to and His Con= these assemblies was, Should revolution be permitted, or should gresses Europe interfere in Spain and Naples, and pledge herself to uphold everywhere the sacred powers of legitimate monarchs ? His old friends of the Holy Alliance backed him up in this suggestion, both Con- gresses adopted it, a policy of repression of revolutions became the pro- gramme, and Austria was charged to restore what Metternich called "order" in Naples. He did so. The liberals of Naples were far too weak to oppose the power of Austria. Their government fell to pieces as soon as the Austrian army appeared, and the impotent but cruel Ferdinand was made an absolute kiny- asrain. The radicals in Piedmont started an insurrection which was quickly put down, and Austria became practically the lord and master of Italy. Proud of his success, Metternich called a new Congress in 1822, in which it was resolved to repeat in Spain what had been done in Naples. How Order was France was now made the instrument of the absolutists. A Restored in French army marched across the Pyrenees, put down the gov- pain ernment of the liberals, and gave the king back his despotic rule. He celebrated his return to power by a series of cruel executions. The Holy Alliance was in the ascendant, the liberals had been bitterly repaid for their daring, terror seized upon the liberty-loving peoples, and Europe seemed thrown fully into the grasp of the absolute kings Only in two regions did the spirit of revolt triumph during this period of reaction. These were Greece and Spanish America. The in Greece historic land of Greece had long been in the hands of a des- potism with which even the Holy Alliance was not in sympa- thy — that of Turkey. Its very name, as a modern country, had almost van- ished, and Europe heard with astonishment in 182 1 that the descendants of the ancient Greeks had risen against the tyranny under which they had been crushed for centuries. The struggle was a bitter one. The sultan was atrocious in his cruel- ties. In the island of Chios alone he brutally murdered 20,000 Greeks. But the spirit of the old Athenians and Spartans was in the people, and they kept on fighting in the face of defeat. For four years this went on, while the powers of Europe looked on without raising a hand. Some of their people indeed took part, among them Lord Byron, who died in Greece in 1824 ; but the governments failed to warm up to their duty. FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 123 Their apathy vanished in 1825, when the sultan, growing weary of the struggle, and hem on bringing it to a rapid L-m.1. called in the aid of his pow ful vassal, Mehemed Ali, Pasha of Egypt. Mehemed responded by sending a strong arm)' under his son Ibrahim, who landed in the Mon a (the anci< Peloponnesus), where he treated the people with shocking cruelty. A year of this was as much as Christian Europe could stand. England first aroused herself. Canning, the English prime minister, _. „ &' & ' The Powers persuaded Nicholas, who had just succeeded Alexander as Come to the Czar of Russia, to join with him in stopping this horrible busi- Rescue of . Greece ness. France nt her aid, and the combined powers warned Ibrahim to cease his cruel work. On his refusal, the fleets of Eng- land and France attacked and annihilated the Turkish-Egyptian fleet in the ■ of Navarino. The Sultan still hesitated, and the czar, impatient at the delay, deci, war and invaded with his army the Turkish provinces on the Danube. The next year, 1829, the Russians crossed the Balkans and descended upon Con- stantinople. That city was in such imminent danger of capture that the obstinacy of the sultan completely disappeared and he humbly consented to all the demands of the powers. Servia, Moldavia and Wallachia, the chief provinces of the Balkan peninsula, were put under the rule of Christian governors, and the independence of Greece was fully acknowledged. Prince Otto of Bavaria was made king, and ruled until 1862. In Greece iib- eralism had conquered, but elsewhere in Europe the reaction established by the Congress of Vienna still held sway. The people merely bided their time. The good seed sown could not fail to bear fruit in its season. The spirit of revolution was in the air, and any attempt to rob the people of the degree of liberty which they enjoyed was very likely to precipitate a revolt against ® luUon the tyranny of courts and kings. It came at length in France, that country the ripest among the nations for revolution. Louis XVIII. an easy, good-natured old soul, of kindly disposition towards the people, passed from life in 1824, and was succeeded by his brother, Count of Artois, as Charles X. The new king had been the head of the ultra-royalist faction, an advo- cate of despotism and feudalism, and quickly doubled the hate which the people bore him. Louis XVIII. had been liberal in his Charles X. and policy, and had given increased privileges to the people. His Attempt Under Charles reaction set in. A vast sum of money was at Despotism voted to the nobles to repay their losses during the Revolution. Steps were taken to muzzle the press ami gag the universities. This was 124 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 more than the Chamber of Deputies was willing to do, and it was dis- solved. But the tyrant at the head of the government went on, blind to the signs in the air, deaf to the people's voice. If he could not get laws from the Chamber, he would make them himself in the old arbitary fashion, and on July 26, 1830, he issued, under the advice of his prime minister, four decrees, which limited the list of voters and put an end to the freedom of the press. Practically the constitution was set aside, the work of the Revolution ignored, and absolutism re-established in France. King Charles had taken a step too far. He did not know the spirit of the French. In a moment Paris blazed into insurrection. Tumult arose on every side. Workmen and students paraded the streets with enthusi- astic cheers for the constitution. But under their voices there were soon heard deeper and more ominous cries. "Down with the ministers !" came the demand. And then, as the throng increased and grew more violent, arose the revolutionary slogan, " Down with the Bourbons !" The infatu- ated old king was amusing himself in his palace of St. Cloud, The Revolution an j ^jj nQt discover t h at t h e crown was tottering upon his in Paris & r head. He knew that the people of Paris had risen, but looked upon it as a passing ebullition of French temper. He did not awake to the true significance of the movement until he heard that there had been fighting between his troops and the people, that many of the citizens lay dead in the streets, and that the soldiers had been driven from the city which remained in the hands of the insurrectionists. Then the old imbecile, who had fondly fancied that the Revolution of 1789 could be set aside by a stroke of his pen, made frantic efforts to lay the demon he had called into life. He hastily cancelled the tyrannical decrees. Finding that this would not have the desired effect, he abdicated the throne in favor of his grandson. But all was of no avail. France had had enough of him and his house. His envoys were turned back from the gates of Paris unheard. Remembering the fate of Louis XVI., his unhappy brother, Charles X., turned his back upon France and hastened to seek a refuo-e in England. Meanwhile a meeting of prominent citizens had been held in Paris, the result of their deliberations being that Charles X. and his heirs should be deposed and the crown offered to Louis Philippe, duke of Orleans. There Louis Philippe na ^ been a Louis Philippe in the Revolution of 1789, a radical Chosen as member of the royal house of Bourbon, who, under the title of Egalite, had joined the revolutionists, voted for the death of Louis XVI., and in the end had his own head cut off by the guillotine. His son as a young man had served in the revolutionary army and had FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 125 been one of its leaders in the important victors- of Jemappes. But when the terror came he hastened from France, which had become a very unsafe place for one of his Mood. He had the reputation of being liberal in his views, and was the first man thought of for the vacant crown When the Chambei of Deputies met in August anil offered it to him, he did not hesitate to accept. He swore to observe and reign under the constitution, and took the throne under the title of Louis Philippe, king of the French. Thus speedily and happily ended t I id Revolution in France. Hut Paris again proved itself the political centre of Europe. The deposition of Charles X. was like a stone thrown into the seething waters of European politics, and its effects spread far and wide be- Effect in r-urope yond the borders of France. The nations had I iund of the Revo- hand and foot l>y the Congress of Vienna. The people had utlon writhed uneasily in their fetters, hut now in more than ality th< in their might to break them, here demanding a greater degree of liberty, there overthrowing the government. The latter was the case in Belgium. Its had sintered severely from the work of the Congress ol Vienna Without ever a pretence of consulting their wishes, their country had been incorporated with Holland as the kingdom of the Netherlands, the two countries being fused into one under a king of the old Dutch II Orange. The idea was good enough in itself. It was intended to make a kin enough to help keep France in order. Hut an attempt these two sta'eswas like an endeavor to mix oil and water. The people ol the two countries had lot since drifted apart from each other, and had irreconcilable ideas and inter- -. Holland was a colonizing and commercial country, Belgium an indus- trial country ; Holland was Protestant, Belgium was Catholic ; Holland was Teutonic in blood, Belgium was a mixture ol the- Teutonic and French, but wholly French in feeling ami customs. The Belgians, therefore, were generally discontented with the act of fusion, and in 1830 they imitated the French by a revolt against ti, c Belgian King William of Holland. A tumult followed in Brussels, I'pnsinxand which ended in the Dutch soldiers being driven from the city. ts su l Kin-- William, finding that the Belgians insisted on independence, di to bring them back to their alle force of arms. The powers Europe now took the matter in hand, and, after some difference of opinion, decided to -rant the Belgians the independence they demanded. This was a meddling with his royal authority to which Kin- William did not propose; to submit, but when the navy 1 I Britain and the army of France ap- proached his borders he changed his mind, and sim j Holland and Bel- 126 FROM THE NAPOLEONIC WARS TO 1830 gium have gone their own way under separate kings. A limited monarchy, with a suitable constitution, was organized for Belgium by the powers, and Prince Leopold, of the German house of Saxe-Coburg, was placed upon the throne. The Movements The spirit of revolution extended into Germany and in Germany Italy, but only with partial results. Neither in Austria nor and ta y Prussia did the people stir, but in many of the smaller states a demand was made for a constitution on liberal lines, and in every instance the princes had to give way. Each of these states gained a representative form of government, the monarchs of Prussia and Austria alone retaining their old despotic power. In Italy there were many signs of revolutionary feeling ; but Austria still dominated that peninsula, and Metternich kept a close watch upon the movements of its people. There was much agitation. The great secret society of the Carbonari sought to combine the patriots of all Italy in a grand stroke for liberty and union, but nothing came of their efforts. In the States of the Church alone the people rose in revolt against their rulers, but they were soon put down by the Austrians, who invaded their territory, dispersed their weak bands, and restored the old tyranny. The hatred of the Italians for the Austrians grew more intense, but their time had not yet come; they sank back in submission and awaited a leader and an opportunity. There was one country in which the revolution in France called forth a more active response, though, unhappily, only to double the weight of the chains under which its people groaned. This was unfortunate The Condition „ . . ' . of Poland r oland ; once a great and proud kingdom, now dismembered and swallowed up by the land-greed of its powerful neighbors. It had been in part restored by Napoleon, in his kingdom of Warsaw, and his work had been in a measure recognized by the Congress of Vienna. The Czar Alexander, kindly in disposition and moved by pity for the unhappy Poles, had re-established their old kingdom, persuading Austria and Prussia to give up the bulk of their Polish territory in return for equal areas else- where. He gave Poland a constitution, its own army, and its own adminis- tration, making himself its king, but promising to rule as a constitutional monarch. This did not satisfy the Poles. It was not the independence they craved. They could not forget that they had been a great power in Europe when Russia was still the weak and frozen duchy of Muscovy. the Poles When the warm-hearted Alexander died and the cold-hearted Nicholas took his place, their discontent grew to dangerous proportions. The news of the outbreak in France was like a firebrand FROM THE NAPOLEONh W.IRS TO 1830 127 thrown in their midst. In November, 1830. ;i few young hot-heads sounded the note of revolt, and Warsaw rose in insurrection against the Russians. For a time they were successful. Constantine, the czar's brother governor of Poland, was by the riot, and deserted the capital leaving the revolutionists in full control. Towards the frontier he hasti winged by alarm, while the provinces rose in rebellion behind him as he d Less than a week hail passed before the Russian power was with- drawn from Poland, and iis pi ople were once more lords of their own land '1 hey set up a provisional government in Warsaw, ami prepared to defend themselv< s against the- armies that were sure to come. What was needed now was unity. A single fixed and resolute purp under able and suitable leaders, formed the only conceivable condition of sunv,,. But Poland was, of all countries, the least capable of such unit). The landed nobility was full of its old feudal o( u n j ty notions; the di ol the city was inspired by modern sentiments. They could not agree; they quarreled in and court, while their hasty levies of troops were marching to meet the Russians in the field. Under such conditions success was a thing beyond hope. Yet the Poles fought well. Kosciusko, their former hero, would have been proud of their courage and willingness to die for their country Hut 1st the powerful ami ably led Russian armies their gallantry was of no avail, and their lack of unity fatal. In May, 1831, they were overwhelmed at Ostrolenka by the Russian hosts, In September a traitor betrayed Warsaw and the Russian army entered its gal [Tie volt was at an end, and Poland again in fetters. Nicholas the Czar fancied that he had spoiled tl, pie by kindness and clemency. They should not be spoiled in that way any longer. Under his harsh decrees the Kingdom of Poland vanished. He ordeied that it should be made a Russian province, and held p | an( j by a Russian army of occupatioa The very language of the . was forbidden to be spoken, and their religion was to be replaced by the Orthodox Russian faith. Those brief months of revolution ami inde- pendence were fatal to the liberty-loving people. Since then, except during their brief revolt in 1N63. they have lain in fetters at the feet of Russia, nothing remaining to them but their patriotic memories and their undying liration for freedom and independence. CHAPTER VII. Bolivar, the Liberator of Spanish America. IN the preceding chapter mention was made of two regions in which the spirit of revolt triumphed during the period of reaction after the Napo- leonic wars — Greece and Spanish America. The revolt in Greece was there described ; that in Spanish America awaits description. It had its hero, one of the great soldiers of the Spanish race, perhaps the greatest and ablest of guerilla leaders ; " Bolivar the Liberator," as he was known on his native soil. Spain had long treated her colonists in a manner that was difficult for a How Spain high-spirited people to endure. Only two thoughts seemed Treated Her to rule in their management, the one being to derive from the colonies all possible profit for the government at home, the other to make use of them as a means by which the leaders in Spain could pay their political debts. The former purpose was sought to be carried out by severe taxation, commercial restriction, and the other methods in which a short-sighted country seeks to enrich itself by tying the hands and check- ing the industries of its colonists. To achieve the latter purpose all im- portant official positions in the colonies were held by natives of Spain. Posts in the government, in the customs, in all salaried offices were given to strangers, who knew nothing of the work they were to do or the con- ditions of the country to which they were sent, and whose single thought was to fill their purses as speedily as possible and return to enjoy their wealth in Spain. All this was galling to the colonists, who claimed to be loyal Span- iards , and they rebelled in spirit against this swarm of o*thTpeo'°e numan locusts which descended annually upon them, practic- ing every species of extortion and fraud in their eagerness to grow rich speedily, and carrying much of the wealth of the country back to the mother land. Add to this the severe restrictions on industry and commerce, the prohibition of trade except with Spain, the exactions of every kind, legal and illegal, to which the people were forced to submit, and their deep-seated dissatisfaction is easy to understand (128) Bt >/ // 'AR, THE I FBERATi >R < >F SJ\ WISH AMERICA 131 The war for independence in the United States had no apparent influence upon the colonics of Spanish America. The) remained loyal to Spain. In' French Revolution seemed also without effect. But during tin- long Napoleonic wars, when Spain remained fur years in the grip of the Corsican, and the people of Spanish America were left largely to govern themselves, a thirst for liberty arose, and a spirit of revolt showed itsell about 1810 throughout the length and breadth of the colonies. Chief among the revolutionists was Simon Bolivar, a native of < the capital of Venezuela. In iSiowc find him in London, B () | ivar t)lc seeking the aid of the British government in favor of the Revolutionary rebels against Spain. In 1811 he served as governor of Puerto Cabello, the strongest fortress in Venezuela. lie was at that time subordinate to General Miranda, whom he afterwar ised of treason, and who died in a dungeon in Spain. In the year named Venezuela pro- claimed its independence, but in 1813, Bolivar, who had Keen entitled its " Liberator," was a refugee in Jamaica, and his country again a v. of Spain. The leaders of affairs in Spain knew well where to seek the backbone of the insurrection. Bolivar was the one man whom they feared. He removed, there was not a man in sight capable of leading the rebels to victory. To dispose of him, a spy was sent to Jamaica, his purpose being to take the Liberator's life This man, after An Attem P l ; il . . ° Assassination gaining a knowledge of Bolivar's habits and movements, bribed a negro to murder him, and in the dead of night the assassin stole up to Bolivar's hammock and plunged his knife into the sleeper's breast. As it proved, it was not Bolivar, but his secretarv. who lay there, and the hope of the American insurrectionists escaped, Leaving Jamaica, Bolivar proceeded to San Domingo, where he found a warm supporter in the president, Petion. Here, too, he met Luis Brion, a Hutch shipbuilder of great wealth. His zeal for the principles of liberty infused Rrion with a like zeal. The result was that Brion fitted out seven schooners and placed them at Bolivar's disposal, supplied 3,500 muskets to arm recruits who should join Bolivar's standard, and devoted his own life and services to the sacred cause. Thus slenderly equipped, Bolivar com- menced operations in [816 at the port of Cayos de San Luis, where the leading refugees from Cartagena, New Granada, and Venezuela Bo[iva . Re . had sought sanctuary. By them he was accepted as leader, turns to and Brion. with the title of "Admiral of Venezuela," was «dven Venezu e'a command of the squadron he had himself furnished. The growing expedi- tion now made lor the island of Margarita which Arismendi had wrested 132 BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA from the Spanish governor; and here, at a convention of officers, Bolivar was named "Supreme Chief," and the third Venezuelan war began. It was marked by many a disaster to the patriot arms, and so numerous vicissitudes that, until the culminating triumph of Boyaca on August 7th 18 19, it remained doubtful upon which side victory would ultimately rest. The war was conducted on the part of the Spaniards with the most fiendish cruelty, prisoners taken in war and the unarmed people of the country alike being tortured and murdered under circumstances of revolting barbarity. "The people of Margarita," writes an English officer who served in Venezuela, " saw their liberties threatened and endangered ; their The Savage wives, children, and kindred daily butchered and murdered; Cruelty of the and the reeking members of beings most dear to them pamar s exposed to their gaze on every tree and crag of their native forests and mountains; nor was it until hundreds had been thus slaughtered that they pursued the same course. The result was that the Spaniards were routed. I myself saw upwards of seven thousand of their skulls, dried and heaped together in one place, which is not inaptly termed Golgotha,' as a trophy of victory." Another writer tells us : " I saw several women whose ears and noses had been cut off, their eyes torn from their sockets, their tongues cut out, and the soles of their feet pared by the orders of Monteverde, a Spanish brigadier-general." The result of these excesses of cruelty was an implacable hatred of the Spaniard, and a determination to carry on the war unto death. In 1815 Ferdinand of Spain determined to put an end once for all to the movement for independence that, in varying forms, had been agitating for five years the whole of Spanish America. Accordingly, strong rein- forcements to the royalist armies were sent out, under General Morillo. These arrived at Puerto Cabello, and, besides ships of war, comprised 12,000 troops — a force in itself many times larger than ,all the scattered bands of patriots then under arms put together. Morillo soon had Venezuela under his thumb, and, planting garrisons throughout it, proceeded to lay siege to The Methods Cartagena. Capturing this city in four months, he marched of General unopposed to Santa Fe de Bogota, the capital of New Granada, ruin and devastation marking his progress. In a despatch to Ferdinand, which was intercepted, he wrote : " Every person of either sex who was capable of reading and writing was put to death. By thus cutting off all who were in any way educated, I hoped to effectually arrest the spirit of revolution." An insight into Morillo's methods of coping with the '' spirit of revo- lution " is furnished by his treatment of those he found in the opulent city BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMUR; 133 of Maturin on its capture Dissatisfied with the tre< suit he found there, he suspected the people of wealth to have anticipated his arrival by burying their property. To find out I posed buried treasure, he had all those whom he regarded as likely to know where it was hidden collected together and, to make them confess, had the soles of their feet cut off. and then had them driven over hot sand. Many of the victims of this horrid piece of cruelty survived, and were subsequently seen by those that have narrated it. At the commencement of the war, with the don of the little hand on the island ot Margarita, the patriotic cause was represented by a few scattered groups along the hanks of the Orinoco, on the plains of Barcelona and of Casan.tr . These groups pursued a kind of guerilla warfare, quite independently of one another, and withont any plan to achieve. They were kept together by the fact that submission meant death. The leader of one of these grou] by name, presents one of the most pic- p aez theQuer. turesque and striking characters that history has produced. ilia and His ! Ie . ■ Llanero, or native of the elevated plains of Barinas, Fx P |0!t s and quite illiterate. As owner of herds of half-wild cattle, he became: chief of a band of herdsmen, which he organized into an army, known as the "Guide-; of the Apure," a tributary of the Orinoco, and whose banks were the base of Paez's operations. Only one of his many daring exploits can be here recorded. That occurred on the 3rd of June, 1S19, when Paez was opposing the advance of Morillo himself. With 150 picked horsemen, he swam the river Orinoco and galloped towards the Spanish camp. "Eight hundred of the royalist cavalry," writes W. Pilling, General Mitre's trans- lator, "with two small guns, sillied out to meet him. He slowly retreat' drawing them on to a place called Las Queseras del Medio, where a bat- talion of infantry lay in ambush by the river. Then, splitting his men into tups o( twenty, he charged In: enemy on all sides, forcing them under the fire of the infantry, ami recrossed the river with two killed and a f wounded, leaving the plain strewn with the dead of the enemy." While Paez's dashing exploits were inspiring the revolutionary leaders with fresh courage, which enabled them at hast to hold their own, a system if enlisting volunteers was instituted in London by Don Luis Lopes Mendez, representative of 1 1 : ■ - republic. The Napoleonic wars being over, the European powers were unable to reduce their swollen armaments, and English and German officers entered into contracts with Mendez to take out to Venezuela organized corps of artillery, lancers, hussars, and rifles. On enlisting, soldiers received a bounty of /20 , their pay was 2s. a day and rations, and at the end of the war they were promised ,£125 and an allot- ment of land, Idle first expedition to leave England comprised 120 hussars 134 BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA and iancers, under Colonel Hippisley; this body became the basis of a corps of regular cavalry. The nucleus of a battalion of riflemen was taken out British Soldiers D >' Colonel Campbell ; and a subaltern, named Gilmour, with Join the in. the title of colonel, formed with 90 men the basis of a brigade surgents Q r art: jl] er y General English, who had served in the Peninsular War under Wellington, contracted with Mendez to take out a force of 1,200 Englishmen ; 500 more went out under Colonel Elsom, who also brought out 300 Germans under Colonel Uzlar. General MacGregor took 800, and General Devereux took out the Irish Legion, in which was a son of the Irish tribune, Daniel O'Connell. Smaller contingents also went to the seat of war ; these mentioned, however, were the chief, and without their aid Bolivar was wont to confess that he would have failed. Now it was that a brilliant idea occurred to Bolivar. He had already sent 1,200 muskets and a group of officers to General Santander, who was the leader of the patriots on the plains of Casanare. This enabled Sant- ander to increase his forces from amongst the scattered patriots in that neighborhood. He thereupon began to threaten the frontier of New Granada, with the result that General Barreiro, who had been left in com- mand of that province by Morillo, deemed it advisable to march against him and crush his growing power, Santander's forces, however, though inferior in number, were too full of enthusiasm for Barreiro's soldiers — reduced to a half-hearted condition from being forced to take part in cruelties that they gained nothing from, except the odium of the people they moved amongst. Bolivar's Plan Barreiro, accordingly, was driven back; and, on receiving the to invade news of Santander's success, Bolivar at once formed the con- ' ception of crossing the Andes and driving the Spaniards out of New Granada. The event proved that this was the true plan of cam- paign for the patriots. Already they had lost three campaigns through en- deavoring to dislodge the Spaniards from their strongest positions, which were in Venezuela; now, by gaining New Granada, they would win prestige and consolidate their power there for whatever further efforts circumstances might demand. Thus, as it has been described, did the veil drop from Bolivar's eyes ; and so confident was he of ultimate success, that he issued to the people of New Granada this proclamation : " The day of America has come ; no human power can stay the course of Nature guided by Providence. Before the sun has again run his annual course, altars to Liberty will arise through- out your land." Bolivar immediately prepa/ed to carry out his idea, and on the nth of June. 1819, he joined Santander at the foot, of the Andes, bringing with BOLIVAR, JUL LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA ix OO him four battalions of infantry, of which one — the "Albion " — was composed entirely of English soldiers — two squadrons of lancers, one of carabineers, and a regiment called the " Guides of the Apure," part of which were Eng- lish — in all 2,500 men. To join Santander was no easy task, for it involved the crossing of an immense plain covered with water at this season of the year, ami the swimming of si vi n deep rivers — war materials, of course, having to he taken along as well. This, however, was only a foretaste of the still greater difficulties that lay before the venturesome hand. General Santander led the van with his Casanare troops, and entered the mountain defiles by a road leading to the centre of the province of Tunja, which was held by Colonel Barreiro with 2,000 infantry and .ji'i horse. The royalists had also a reserve of 1,000 o'f the^nd^s troops at Bogota, the capital of New Granada; at Cartagena, and in tin; valley of Cauca were other detachments, and there was another royalist army at Quito. Bolivar, however, trusted to surprise and to the support of the inhabitants to overcome the odds that were against him. As the invading army left the plains for the mountains the- scene changed. The snowy peaks of the eastern range of the Cordillera appeared in the dis- tance, while, instead of the peaceful lake through which they had waded, they were met by great masses of water tumbling from the heights. The roads ran along tn cipices and were bordered by gigantic trees, upon whose tops rested the clouds, which dissolved themselves in incessant rain. After four days' march the horses were foundered ; an entire squad- ron of Llaneros deserted on finding themselves on foot. The torrents were crossed on narrow trembling bridges formed of trunks of trees, or by means of the aerial " taravitas."* Where they were fordable, the current was so strong that the infantry had to pass two by two with their arms thrown round each other's shoulders ; and woe to him who lost his footing — he lost his life too. bolivar frequently passed and re-passed these torrents on horse- back, carrying behind him the sick and weakly, or the women who accom- panied his men. The temperature was moist and warm; life was supportable with the aid a little firewood ; but as they ascended the mountain the scene changed again. Immense rocks piled one upon another, and hills of snow, bounded the view on every side ; below lay the clouds, veiling the depths of the abyss ; an ice-cold wind cut through the stoutest clothing. At these heights no other noise is heard save that of the roaring torrents left behind, and the . ide of several thoDg nd secured to trees on opposite l<:\nl:s. On then'; '.re also thu s 136 BOLIVAR THE LIBERATOR OE SPANISH AMERICA scream of the condor circling round the snowy peaks above Vegetation • disappears ; only lichens are to be seen clinging to the rock, and a tall plant, bearing plumes instead of leaves, and crowned with yellow flowers, resembling a funeral torch. To make the scene more dreary yet, the path was marked out by crosses erected in memory of travellers who had perished by the way. On entering this glacial region the provisions gave out ; the cattle they had brought with them as their chief resource could go no farther. They reached the summit by the Paya pass, where a battalion could hold an army in check. It was held by an outpost of 300 men, who were dislodged by the vanguard under Santander without much difficulty. The Terror of Now the men began to murmur, and Bolivar called a the Moun- council of war, to which he showed that still greater difficul- ties lay before them, and asked if they would persevere or return. All were of opinion that they should go on, a decision which infused fresh spirit into the weary troops. In this passage more than one hundred men died of cold, fifty of whom were Englishmen ; no horse had survived. It was necessary to leave the spare arms, and even some of those that were carried by the soldiers. It was a mere skeleton of an army which reached the beautiful valley of Saga- rnoso, in die heart of the province of Tunja, on the 6th of July, 18 19 From this point Bolivar sent back assistance to the stragglers left behind, collected horses, and detached parties to scour the country around and communicate with some few guerillas who still roamed about. Meanwhile, Barreiro was still in ignorance of Bolivar's arrival. Indeed, he had supposed the passage of the Cordillera at that season impossible. As soon, however, as he did learn of his enemy's proximity, he collected his forces and took possession of the heights above the plains of Vargas, thus interposing between the patriots and the town of Tunja, which, being at- tached to the independent cause, Bolivar was anxious to enter. The oppos- ing armies met on the 25th of July, and engaged in battle for five hours. The patriots won, chiefly through the English infantry, led by Colonel James Rooke, who was himself wounded and had an arm shot off. Still, the action had been indecisive, and the royalist power remained unbroken. Bolivar's Meth- Bolivar now deceived Barreiro by retreating in the daytime, ods of Fight- rapidly counter-marching, and passing the royalist army in the dark through by-roads. On August 5th he captured Tunja, where he found an abundance of war material, and by holding which he cut Barreiro's communication with Bogota,"' the capital. It was in rapid movements like these that the strength of Bolivar's generalship lay. Freed from the BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA 137 shackles of military routine that enslaved the Spanish officers, he astonished them by forced marches over roads previously deemed impracticable to a regular army. While the}- were manoeuvring, hesitating, calculating, guard- the customary avenues of approach, he surprised them by concentrating a superior force upon a point where they least expected an attack, threw them into confusion, and cut up their troops in detail. Thus it happens that Bolivar's actions in the field do not lend themselves to the same im- pressive exposition as do those of less notabl rals. Barreiro, finding himself shut out from Tunja, fell back upon Venta Quemada, where a general action took place. The country was mountain- ous and woody, and well suited to Bolivar's characteristic tactics. He placed a large part of his troops in ambush, got his cavalry in the enemy's rear, and presented only a small front. This the enemy attacked furiously, and with apparent success. It was only a stratagem, however, lor as they drove back Bolivar's front, the troops in ambush sallied forth and attacked them in the flanks, w y attacked them in the rear. Thus were the Span- iards surrounded. General Barreiro was taken prisoner on the field of battle. On finding his capture to be inevitable, he threw away his sword that he might not have the mortification of surrendering it to Bolivar. His second in command, Colonel Ximenes, was also taken, as were also almost all the commandants and majors of the corps, a multitude of inferior 1 , and more than 1,600 men. All their arms, ammunition, artillery, horses, etc., likewise fell into the patriots' hands. Hardly fifty mi ped, and among these wire some chiefs ami officers of cavalry, who lied before the battle was decided. Those whi ped, however, had of Boyaca only the surrounding country to escape into, and there the)- wi captured by the peasantry, who bound them and brought them in as prisoners, d"he patriot loss was incredibly small — only 13 killed and 53 wounded. At Boyaca the English auxiliaries were seen for the first time under fire, and so gratified was Bolivar with their behavior, that he made them all mem- bers of t!ie Order of the Liberator. Thus was won I , which, after Maypu, is the great battle of South America. It gave the preponderance to the patriot arms in the north of the continent, as Maypu had done in the south. It gave New Granada to the patriots, and isolated Morillo in Venezui Nothing now remained for Bolivar to do but to reach Bogota, the capi- tal, ami assume the reins of government, for already the Spanish officials, much to the relief of the inhabitants, had fled. So, with a small escort, he forward, and entered the city on August 10th, amid the acclamations of the populace. i3* BOLIVAR, THE LIBERATOR OF SPANISH AMERICA The final battle in this implacable war took place in 1 821 at Carabobo, where the Spaniards met with a total defeat, losing more than Peruvians 6,000 men. This closed the struggle, the Spaniards withdrew, and a republic was organized with Bolivar as president. In 1823 he aided the Peruvians in gaining their independence, and was de- clared their liberator and given supreme authority. For two years he ruled as dictator, and then resigned, giving the country a republican constitution. The people of the upper section of Peru organized a commonwealth of their own, which they named Bolivia, in honor of their liberator, while the con- gress of Lima elected him president for life. Meanwhile Chili had won its liberty in 1817 as a result of the victory The Freeing of °f Maypu, above mentioned, and Buenos Ayres had similarly the other fought for and gained independence. In North America a similar struggle for liberty had gone on, and with like result, Central America and Mexico winning their freedom after years of struggle and scenes of devastation and cruelty such as those above mentioned. At the opening of the nineteenth century Spain held a dominion of continental dimensions in America. At the close of the first quarter of the century, as a result of her mediaeval methods of administration, she had lost all her posses- sions on the western continent except the two islands of Cuba and Porto Rico. Yet, learning nothing from her losses, she pursued the same methods in these fragments of her dominions, and before the close of the century these also were torn from her hands. Cruelty and oppression had borne their legitimate fruits, and Spain, solely through her own fault, had lost the final relics of her magnificent colonial empire, \v 1 1. I.I AM EWAR1 GLAD j. 'UN i \M1.N DISRAELI WllMAW GREA I ENGLISH STATESM1 N J < W u n w H OS w m ►J ■< > w S CHAPTER VIII. Great Britain as a World Empire. ON the western edge of the continent of Europe lies the island of Great Britain, in the remote past a part of the continent, but long ages ago cut off by the Britisli Channel. Divorced from themainland, left like a waif in the western sea, peopled by men with their own interests and aims, it might naturally be expected to have enough to attend to at home ami to take no part in continental affairs. Such was tlv riginally. Tim island lay apart, almost unknown, and was, in a sense, "discovered" by the Roman conquerors. But new people came to it, the Anglo-Saxons, and subsequently the _,. r r & l The Adventur- Normans, both of them scions ol that stirring race of Vikings ous Disposi- who made the seas their own centuries ago and descended Hon of the . 1111 r i- iti- British People in conquering inroads on all the shores ot hurope, while then- darings keels cut the waters of far-off Greenland and touched upon the American coast. This people — stirring, aggressive, fearless— made a new destiny for Great Britain. Their island shores were too narrow to hold them, and they set out on bold ventures in all seas. Their situation was a happy one for a nation of daring navigators ami aggressive warriors. Europe lay to the east, the world to the west. As a result the British islands have played a leading part alike in the affairs of Europe and of the world. France, the next door neighbor of Great Britain, was long its prey. While, after the memorable invasion of William of Normandy, France never ceeded in transporting an army to the island shores, and Hostility of even Napoleon failed utterly in his stupendous expedition, England to the islanders sent army after army to France, det its rance chivalry on many a hard-fought field, ravaged its most fertile domains, and for a time held it as a vassal realm of the British King. All this is matter of far-past history. lint the old feeling was promi- nently shown again in the Napoleonic wars, when Great Britain resumed her attitude of enmity to France, and pursued the conqueror with an unrelenting hostility that finally ended in his overthrow. Only for this aggressive island Europe might have remained the bound slave of Napo- (141) i 4 2 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE leon's whims. He could conquer his enemies on land, but the people of England lay beyond his reach. Every fleet he sent to sea was annihilated by his island foes. They held the empire of the waters as he did that of the land. Enraged against these ocean hornets, he sought to repeat the enterprise of William of Normany, but if his mighty Boulogne expedition had put to sea it would probably have met the fate of the Armada of Spain. Great Britain was impregnable. The conqueror of Europe chafed against its assaults in vain. This little island of the west was destined to be the main agent in overthrowing the great empire that his military genius had built. The Vast In- Great Britain, small as it was, had grown, by the open- dustries of ing of the nineteenth century, to be the leading power in rea nam J7 uro p e _ Its industries, its commerce, its enterprise had ex- panded enormously. It had become the great workshop and the chief distributor of the world. The raw material of the nations flowed throueh its ports, the finished products of mankind poured from its looms, London became the great money centre of the world, and the industrious and enter- prising islanders grew enormously rich, while few steps of progress and enterprise showed themselves in any of the nations of the continent. It was with its money-bags that England fought against the conqueror. It could not conveniently send men, but it could send money and supplies to the warring nations, and by its influence and aid it formed coalition after coalition against Napoleon, each harder to overthrow than the last. Every peace that the Corsican won by his victories was overthrown by England's influence. Her envoys haunted every court, whispering hostility in the How England ears of monarchs, planning, intriguing, instigating, threaten- Fought ing, in a thousand ways working against his plans, and unre- Against Na- lentingly bent upon his overthrow. It was fitting, then, that an English general should give Napoleon the coup de grace, and that he should die a prisoner in English hands. Chief among those to whom Napoleon owes his overthrow was William Pitt, prime minister of England during the first period of his career of con- quest, and his unrelenting enemy. It was Pitt that organized Europe, against him, that kept the British fleet alert and expended the British revenues without stint against this disturber of the peace of the nations, and that formed the policy which Great Britain, after the short interval of the ministry of Fox, continued to pursue until his final defeat was achieved. Whether this policy was a wise one is open to question. It may be that Great Britain caused more harm than it cured. Only for its persistant hostility the rapid succession of Napoleonic wars might not have taken place, GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE and much of the terrible bloodshed and misery : by them might h been obviated. It seems to have been, in its way, disastrous w as England's to the interests of mankind. Napoleon, it is true, had no Policy a Wise regard for the stability of dynasties and kingdoms, but he ne wrought for the overthrow of the old-time tyranny, and Ins marches and campaigns had the effect of stirring up the dormant peoples of Europe, and spreading far and wide that doctrine of human ''quality and the rights of man which was the outcome of the French Revolution. Had he been permitted to die in peace upon the throne and transmit his crown to his descendant, the long era of reaction would doubtless have been avoided and the people of Europe have become the freer and happier as a result of Napoleon's work. The people of Gr at Britain had no reason to thank their ministers for their policy. The cost of the war, fought largely with the purse, had been enormous, and the public debt of the kingdom was itly increased that its annual interest amounted to $150,000,000. But the country emerged from the mighty struggle with a vast growth in power and pres- It was recognized as the true leader in the great contest and had lifted itself to the foremost position in European politics. ThePrestlge On land it had waged the only successful campaign against Gained by Napoleon previous to that of the disastrous Russian expedi- Qreat ,r| tain tion. At sea it had destroyed all opposing fleets, and reigned the unques- tioned mistress of the ocean except in American waters, where alone its proud ships had met defeat d"he islands of Great Britain and Ireland had ceased to represent the dominions under the rule of the British king. In the West Indies new islands had been added to his colonial possessions. In the East Indies he had become master of an imperial domain far surpassing the mother country in size and population, and with untold possibilities of wealth. In North America the great colony of Canada was growing in population and prosperity. Island after island was being added to his ; ions in the Eastern seas. Among these was the continental island of Australia, then in its early stage of colonization. The possession of Q re at Extension Gibraltar and Malta, the protectorate over the Ionian Islands, of England's and the right of free navigation on the Dardanells gave Great Co|on 'es Britain the controlling power in the M< diterranean. And Cape Colon)', which she received as a result of the Treaty of Vienna, was the entering wedge for a great dominion in South Africa. Thus Great Britain had attained the position and dimensions • i 4 4 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE world-empire. Her colonies lay in all continents and spread through all The Wars of seas, and they were to grow during the century until they the World- enormously excelled the home country in dimensions, popu- Empire lation, and natural wealth. The British Islands were merely the heart, the vital centre of the great system, while the body and limbs lay afar, in Canada, India, South Africa, Australia and elsewhere. But the world-empire of Great Britain was not alone one of peaceful trade and rapid accumulation of wealth, but of wars spread through all the continents, war becoming a permanent feature of its history in the nine- teenth century. After the Napoleonic period England waged only one war in Europe, the Crimean; but elsewhere her troops were almost con- stantly engaged. Now they were fighting with the Boers and the Zulus of South Africa, now with the Arabs on the Nile, now with the wild tribes of the Himalayas, now with the natives of New Zealand, now with the half savage Abyssinians. Hardly a year has passed without a fight of some sort, far from the centre of this vast dominion, while for years England and Russia have stood face to face on the northern borders of India, threatening at any moment to become involved in a terrible struggle for dominion. And the standing of Great Britain as a world power lay not alone in her vast colonial dominion and her earth-wide wars, but also in the extra- ordinary enterprise that carried her ships to all seas, and made her the commercial emporium of the world. Not only to her own colonies, but to all lands, sailed her enormous fleet cf merchantmen, gathering the products of the earth, to be consumed at home or distributed again to the nations of Europe and America. She had assumed the position of the purveyor and carrier for mankind. This was not all. Great Britain was in a large measure, the producer for mankind. Manufacturing enterprise and industry had grown im- mensely on her soil, and countless factories, forges and other workshops turned out finished goods with a speed and profusion undreamed of before. The preceding century had been one of active invention, its vital product being the steam engine, that wonder-worker which at a touch was to over- turn the old individual labor system of the world, and replace it with the congregate, factory system that has revolutionized the industries of man- kind. The steam engine stimulated invention extraordinarily. Machines for Manufacturing spinning, weaving, iron-making, and a thousand other pur- and Inventive poses came rapidly into use, and by their aid one of the greatest steps of progress in the history of mankind took place, the grand nineteenth century revolution in methods of production Commercial GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EMPIRE 145 Great Britain did not content herself with going abroad for the ma- rials of her active industries. She dug her way into the bowels ol the earth, tore from the reek its treasures of coal and iron, and thus obtained the necessary fuel for her fin ind metal for her machines. The whole island resounded with the ringing of hammers and rattle of wheels, goods w [u I very far beyond the capacity of the island for their consump- tion, and the vast surplus was sent abroad to all quarters of the earth, to clothe savages in far-off regions and to furnish articles of use and luxury to the most enlightened of the nations. To the ship as a carrier was soon added the locomotive and its cars, conveying these products inland with unprecedented speed from a thousand ports. And 1 r Enterprise from America came the parallel discovery of the steamship, signalling the close of the long centuries of dominion of the sail. Years went on and still the power and prestigi reat Britain grew, still its industry and commerce spread and exj 1, still its colonies increased in population and new lands were added to the sum, until the island-empire stood foremost in industry and enterprise among the nations of the world, and its people reached the summit of their prosperity. From this lofty elevation was to come, in the later years of 1 ;ury. a slow but inevi- table decline, as the United States and the leading European nations developed in industry, and rivals to the productive and commercial supre- macy of the British islanders began to arise in various quarters of the earth. It cannot be said that the industrial prosperity of Great Britain, while of advantage to her people as a whole, was necessarily so to individuals. While one portion of the nation amassed enormous wealth, the bulk of the people sank into the deepest poverty. The factory system brought with it oppression and misery which it woufd need a century of indus- ... ,„, . , . . Disastrous trial revolt to overcome. 1 he costly wars, the crushing taxa- Effect on the tion, the oppressive corn-laws, which forbade the importation People of the of foreign corn, the extravagant expenses of the court and . tions salaries of officials, all conspin press the people. Manu- factories fell into the hands of the few, and a vast number of artisans wi forced to live from hand to mouth, ami to labor for long hours on pinching wages. Estates were similarly accumulated in the hands ol the few, and the small land-owner and trailer tended to disappear. Everything was taxed to the utmost it would bear, while government remained blind to the needs and sufferings of the people and made no effort to decrease the prevailing misery. Thus it came about that the era of Great Britain's greatest prosperity and supremacy as a world-power was the one of greatest industrial oppres- 146 GREAT BRITAIN AS A WORLD EM TIRE sion and misery at home, a period marked by rebellious uprisings among the people, to be repressed with cruel and bloody severity. It was a period of industrial transition, in which the government flourished and the people suffered, and in which the seeds of revolt and revolution were widely spread on every hand. This state of affairs cannot be said to have ended. In truth the pre- sent condition of affairs is one that tends to its aggravation. Neither the manufacturing nor commercial supremacy of Great Britain are what they once were. In Europe, Germany has come into the field as a formidable com- petitor, and is gaining a good development in manufacturing industry. The same must be said of the United States, the products of whose workshops have increased to an enormous extent, and whose commerce has grown to surpass that of any other nation on the earth. The laboring population of Great Britian has severely felt the effects of this active rivalry, and is but slowly adapting itself to the new conditions which it has brought about, the slow but sure revolution in the status of the world's industries. CHAPTER IX. The Great Reform Bill and the Corn Laws AT the close of the last chapter we depicted the miseries of the people of Great Britain, due to the revolution in the system of industry. the vast expenses of the Napoleonic wars, the extravagance of the government, and the blindness nt Parliament to the condition of the working classes. The situation had grown intolerable ; it was widely felt thai something must be done; if affairs were allowed to go on as they were the people might rise- in a revolt that would widen into revolution. A general outbreak seemed at hand. To use the language of a p er iod of the times, the " Red Cock" was crowing in the rural districts. Riot and T If That is, incendiary tires were being kindled in a hundred umu places. In the centres of manufacture similar signs of discontent ap peared. Tumultuous meetings were held, riots broke out, bloody collisions with the troops took place. Daily and hourly the situation was growing more critical. The people were in that state of exasperation that is the preliminary stage of insurrection. Two things they strongly demanded, reform in Parliament and repeal of the Corn Laws. It is with these two questions, reform and repeal, that we propose to deal in this chapter. The British Parliament, it is scarcely necessary to say, is composed of two bodies, the House of Lords and the I louse of Commons. The formet represents the aristocratic element of the nation ; — in short, it The Parliament represents simply its members, since the)- hold their seats as ofOreat a privilege of their titles, and have only their own inter- ests to consider, though the interests of their class go with their own. The latter are supposed to represent th. people, but up to the time with which we are now concerned they had never fully done so, and they did so now less than ever, since the right to vote for them was reserved to a few thousands of the rich. In the year [830, indeed, the I louse of Commons had almost ceased to represent the people at all. Its seats were distributed in accordance with a system that had scarcely changed in the least for two hundred y ('17) 1 48 THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS The idea of distributing- the members in accordance with the population was scarcely thought of, and a state of affairs had arisen which was as absurd as it was unjust. For during these two hundred years great changes Two Centu- na( i taken place in England. What were mere villages or riesof open plains had become flourishing commercial or manufactur- ing cities. Manchester, Leeds, Sheffield, Liverpool, and other centres of industry had become seats of great and busy populations. On the other hand, flourishing towns had decayed, ancient boroughs had become practically extinct. Thus there had been great changes in the dis- tribution of population, but the distribution of seats in Parliament remained the same. As a result of this state of affairs the great industrial towns, Manches- ter, Birmingham, Sheffield, Leeds, and others, with their hundreds of thou- sands of people, did not send a single member to Parliament, while places with only a handful of voters were duly represented, and even places with no voters at all sent members to Parliament. Land-holding Disfranchised t • ° Cities and lords nominated and elected those, generally selecting the Rotten Bo= younger sons of noble families, and thus a large number of the " representatives of the people " really represented no one but the gentry to whom they owed their places. " Rotten " boroughs these were justly called, but they were retained by the stolid conservatism with which the genuine Briton clings to things and conditions of the past. The peculiar state of affairs was picturesquely pointed out by Lord lohn Russell in a speech in 1831. "A stranger," he said, "who was told that this country is unparalleled in wealth and industry, and more civilized and enlightened than any country was before it — that it is a country which prides itself upon its freedom, and which once in seven years elects repre- sentatives from its population to act as the guardians and preservers of that freedom — would be anxious and curious to see how that representation is formed, and how the people choose their representatives. " Such a person would be very much astonished if he were taken to a ruined mound and told that that mound sent two representatives to Parlia- _ c p ment ; if he were taken to a stone wall and told that these sentedby niches in it sent two representatives to Parliament ; if he were Lord .lohn taken to a park, where no houses were to be seen' and told Russel! 111 • -r. v n that that park sent two representatives to Parliament, but he would be still more astonished if he were to see large and opulent towns, full of enterprise and industry and intelligence, containing vast magazines of every species of manufacture, and were then told that these towns sent no representatives to Parliament. Willi Wl Bl VCK. w \ -. n r. POPULAR WRI Ilk- i U I ICTION. GEORCI M.D. , justin McCarthy JAMES BRVLE. JOHN MORLEV A J. BALFOUK ENGLISH STATESMEN IN LITERATURE. THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS 151 "Such a person would be still more astonished if he were taken to Liverpool, where there is a large constituency, and told, 'Here you will have a fine specimen of a popular election.' He would see bribery employed to the greatesl extent and in the most unblushing manner; he would see every voter receiving a number of guineas in a bag as the price of his corruption ; and after such a spectacle he would be, no doubt, much .1 tonished that a nation whose repres< ntatives are thus chosen, could per- form the functions of legislation at all, or enjoy respect in any degree." Such was li of affairs when there came to England the news of the quiet but effecti nch Revolution of 1830. Its effect in England was a stern demand for the reform of this mockery miscalled House of Commons, of this lie that claimed to rep the English people. We have not told the whole story of the transparent falsehood. Two 5 before no man could be a member of Parliament who did not belong to the Church of England. No Dissenter could hold any public office in the kingdom. The multil i Methodists, Presbyterians, Baptists, and other dissenting sects were excluded from any share in the _.. & - Dissenters ant /eminent. The same was the case with the Catholics, catholics few in England, but forming the bulk of the population of Admitted to Ireland. This evil, so far as all but the Catholics were con- cerned, was removed l>y Act of Parliament in 1828. The struggle for Catholic liberation was conducted in Ireland by Daniel O'Connell, the most eloquent and patriotic of its orators. lb- was sneered at by Lord Welling- ton, then prime minister of Great Britain. But when it was seen that all Ireland was backing her orator the Iron Duke gave way, and a Catholic Relief Bill was passed in 1829, giving Catholics the right to hold all but the highest offices of the realm. In 1830, instigated by the revolution in France, the great fight for the reform of Parliamentary representation be The question was not a new one. It had been raised by Cromwell, nearly two hundred years before. It had been brought forward a number of times during the eighteenth century. It was revived in 1809 and again in 1821, but public opinion did nol come strongly to its support until 1830. George IV., its strong opponent, died in that year; William IV., a king more in its favor, came to the throne; the government of the bitterly con- servative Luke of Wellington was defeated and Earl Grey, a Liberal minister, took his place ; the time was evidently ripe for reform, and soon the great fight was on. The people of England looked upon the reform of Parliament as a restoring to them of their lost liberties, and their feelings were deeply enlisted in the event. When, on the 1st of March, 183 1, the bill was 152 THE GREAT REFORM RILL AND THE CORN LAWS brought into the House of Commons, the public interest was intense. For hours eager crowds waited in the streets, and when the doors of the Parliament house were opened every inch of room in the Introduced galleries was quickly filled, while for hundreds of others no room was to be had. The debate opened with the speech by Lord John Russell from which we have quoted. In the bill offered by him he proposed to disfranchise entirely sixty-two of the rotten boroughs, each of which had less than 2,000 inhabitants ; to reduce forty-seven others, with less than 4,000 inhabitants, to one member each; and to distribute the 168 members thus unseated among the populous towns, districts, and counties which either had no members at all, or a number out of all proportion to their population. Also the suffrage was to be extended, the hours for voting shortened, and other reforms adopted. The bill was debated, pro and con, with all the eloquence then in Par- liament. Vigorously as it was presented, the opposing elements were too strong, and its consideration ended in defeat by a majority of eight. Par- The Fate ot liament was immediately dissolved by the premier, and an Reform in appeal was made to the people. The result showed the strength of the public sentiment, limited as the suffrage then was. The new Parliament contained a large majority of reformers, and when the bill was again presented it was carried by a majority of 106. On the evening of its passage it was taken by Earl Grey into the House of Lords, where it was eloquently presented by the prime minister and bitterly attacked by Lord Brougham, who declared that it would utterly over- whelm the aristocratic part of the House. His view was that of his fellows, and the Reform Bill was thrown out by a majority of forty-one. Instantly, on the news of this action of the Lords, the whole country blazed into a state of excitement and disorder only surpassed by that of civil war. The people were bitterly in earnest in their demand for reform, England on the tne > r feelings being wrought up to an intense pitch of excite- Verge of ment. Riots broke out in all sections of the country. London seethed with excitement. The peers were mobbed in the streets and hustled and assaulted wherever seen. They made their way to the House only through a throng howling for reform. Those known to have voted against the bill were in peril of their lives, some being forced to fly over housetops to escape the fury oj the people. Angry debates arose in the House of Lords in which even the Bishops took an excited part. The Commons was like a bear-pit, a mass of furiously Jill: GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE ( ORN LAWS .'53 wrangling opponents. England was shaken to the centre by the defeat of the bill, and Parliament reflected the sentiment of the people. On December 12th, Russell presented a third Reform Bill to the House, almost the same in its provisions a which had been defeated, The debate now was brief, and the result certain. It was felt to be no loi safe to juggle with the people. On the r8th the l>ill was passed, with a greatly increased majority, now amounting to 162. To the Lo iin it went, where the Tories, led by Lord Wellington, were in a decided majority against it. It had no chance: of passage, unl< king would create enough new peers to outvote the opposition, ddiis King William refused to do, and, Earl Grey resigned the ministry, leaving the Torie ; to bear the brunt of the situation they had produo The result was one barely short of civil war. The people rose in fury determined upon reform or revolution. Organized unions now the Re- sprang up in every town. Threats ol marching an army form Bill upon London were made. Lord Wellington was n in the street; and was in peril of his life. The maddened populace went so far as to curse and stone the king himself, one stone striking him in the forehead. The country was indeed on the verge of insurrection against the government, and unless quick action was taken it was impossible to foresee the result. William IV., perhaps with the recent experience of Charles X. of France before his eyes, gave way, and promised to create enough new peers to insure the passing of the bill. To escape tins unwelcome n Wellington anil others of the Tories agreed to stay away from Parliament, and the Lords, pocketing their dignity as best they could, passed the bill by a safe majority, and reform was attained. Similar bills were passed for Scotland and Ireland, and thus was achievi i reform in the history of the British Parliament. It w ntially a revolution, the first great step in the evolution of a truly representative assembly in ('.re.u Britain. The second great step was taken in 1867, in response to a popular demonstration almost a and thr & as that of iS^o. Th themselves, under their leader Mr. Disraeli, were obliged to bring in this bill, which extended the suffrage to millions of the people, The Extension and made it almost universal among the commercial ami oftheSuf- industrial classes. Nearly twenty years later, in 1884, anew vafe crusade was made in favor of the extension of the suffrage to agricultural laborers, previously disfranchised. The accomplishment of this reform ended the great struggle, and for the first time in their history the people i 5 4 THE GREAT REFORM BILL AND THE CORN LAWS of Great Britain were adequately represented in their Parliament, which had ceased to be the instrument of a class and at last stood for the whole commonwealth. The question of Parliamentary reform settled, a second great question, that of the Corn Laws, rose up prominently before the people. It was one that appealed more immediately to them than that of representation. The benefits to come from the latter were distant and problematical ; those to come from a repeal of the Corn Laws were evident and immediate. Every poor man and woman felt each day of his life the crushing- effect of these laws, which bore upon the food on their tables, making still more scarce and high-priced their scanty means of existence. For centuries commerce in grain had been a subject of legislation. In 1 361 its exportation from England was forbidden, and in 1463 its importation was prohibited unless the price of wheat was greater than 6s. 3d. per quarter. As time went on changes were made in these laws, but the tariff charges kept up the price of grain until late in the nineteenth century, and added greatly to the miseries of the working classes. The farming land of England was not held by the common people, but by the aristocracy, who fought bitterly against the repeal of the Corn Laws, which, by laying a large duty on grain, added materially to their profits. But while the aristocrats were benefited, the workers suffered, the price of the loaf being decidedly raised and their scanty fare correspondingly dim- inished. More than once they rose in riot against these laws, and occasional changes were made in them, but many years passed after the era of parlia- mentary reform before public opinion prevailed in this second field of Cobdenandthe effort. Richard Cobden, one of the greatest of England's AntUCorn orators, was the apostle of the crusade against these misery- Law Crusade p roc i ucm g laws. He advocated their repeal with a power and influence that in time grew irresistible. He was not affiliated with either of the great parties, but stood apart as an independent Radical, a man with a party of his own, and that party, Free Trade. For the crusade against the Corn Laws widened into one against the whole principle of protection. Backed by the public demand for cheap food, the movement went on, until in 1846 Cobden brought over to his side the government forces under Sir Robert Peel, by whose aid the Corn Laws were swept away and the ports of England thrown open to the free entrance of food from any part of the world. The result was a serious one to English agri- culture, but it was of great benefit to the English people in their status as THE GREAT REFORM HILL AND THE CORN LAWS 155 the greatest of manufacturing- and commercial nations. Supplying the world with g Is. as they did, it was but just that the world should supply them with food. With the repeal of the duties on grain Q rea t Britain tin- whole system of protection was dropped and in its place AdoptsFree was adopted that system of free trade in which Great Britain stands alone among the nations of the world. It was a system especially adapted to a nation whose market was the world at large, and under it British commerce spread and flourished until it became one of the wonders of the world. CHAPTER X. Turkey, the "Sick Man" of Europe. AMONG the most interesting phases of nineteenth-century history is that of the conflict between Russia and Turkey, a struggle for dominion that came clown from the preceding centuries, and still seems only temporarily laid aside for final settlement in the years to come. In the eighteenth century the Turks proved quite able to hold their own against all the power of Russia and all the armies of Catharine the Great, and they entered the nineteenth century with their ancient do- The "Sick Man" of Europe minion largely intact. But they were declining in strength while Russia was growing, and long before 1900 the empire of the Sultan would have become the prey of the Czar had not the other powers of Europe come to the rescue. The Czar Nicholas designated the Sultanas "the sick man" of Europe, and such he and his empire have truly become. The ambitious designs of Russia found abundant warrant in the cruel treatment of the Christian people of Turkey. A number of Christian king- doms lay under the Sultan's rule, in the south inhabited by Greeks, in the north by Slavs ; their people treated always with harshness and tyranny ; their every attempt at revolt repressed with savage cruelty. We have seen how the Greeks rebelled against their oppressors in 182 1, and, with the aid The Result of °f Europe, won their freedom in 1829. Stirred by this strug- the War of gle, Russia declared war against Turkey in 1828, and in the treaty of peace signed at Adrianople in 1829 secured not only the independence of Greece, but a large degree of home-rule for the north- ern principalities of Servia, Moldavia, and Wallachia. Turkey was forced in a measure to loosen her grip on Christian Europe. But the Russians were not satisfied with this. They had got next to nothing for themselves. England and the other Western powers, fearful of seeing Russia in posses- sion of Constantinople, had forced her to release the fruits of her victory. It was the first step in that jealous watchfulness of England over Constanti- nople which was to have a more decided outcome in later years. The new- born idea of maintaining the balance of power in Europe stood in Russia's way, the nations of the West viewing in alarm the threatening growth of the great Muscovite Empire, 156 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 157 The ambitious Czar Nicholas looked upon Turkey as his destined prey, and wailed with impatience a sufficient excuse to send his armii tin to the Balkan Peninsula, whose mountain barrier formed the great natural bul- wark of Turkey in the north. Though the Turkish government at this time avoided direct oppression of its Christian subjects, the fanatical Mo- hammedans were difficult to restrain, and the robbery and oppression of murder of Christians was of common occurrence A source the Christians of hostility at length arose from the question of protecting these ill-tie. it. I peoples. By favor of old treaties the czar claimed a certain right to protect the Christians of the Creek faith. France assumed a simi- lar protectorate over the Roman Catholics of Palestine, but the gre number of Greek Christians in the Holy Land, and the powerful support of :ar, gave those the advantage in the frequent quarrels which arose in Jerusalem between the pilgrims from the Mast and the West. Nicholas, instigated by his advantage in this quarter, determined to clare himself the- protector of all the Christians in the Turkish Empire, a claim which tin: sultan dared not admit if he wished to hold The Balance «f control over his Mohammedan subjects. War was in the Power in air, and England and France, resolute to preserve the urop " balance of power," sent their fleets to the Dardanelles as useful lookers-on. The sultan had already rejected the Russian demand, and Nicholas lost no time in sending an army, led by Prince Gortchakoff, with orders to cross the Pruth and take possession of the Turkish provinces on the Danube. The gauntlet had been thrown down. War was inevitable. The English newspapers demanded of their government a vigorous policy. 1 he old Turkish party in Constantinople was equally urgent in its demand for hos- tilities. At length, on October 4, 1853, the sultan declared The Su | tan De . war against Russia unless the Danubian principalities were at dares War once evacuated. Instead of doing 1 so, Nicholas ordered his Against generals to invade the Balkan territory, and on the other hand France and England entered into alliance with the Porte and sent their fleets to the Bosporus. Shortly afterwards the Russian Admiral Nachr moff surprised a Turkish squadron in the harbor of Sinope, attacked it, and — though the Turks fought with the greatest courage — the fleet was destroyed and nearly the whole of its crews were slain. This turned the tide in England and France, which declared war in March, [854, while Prussia and Austria maintained a waiting attitude. No event of special importance took place early in the war. In April Lord Raglan, with an English army of 20,000 men, landed in Turkey and the 158 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN " OF EUROPE siege of the Russian city of Odessa was begun. Meanwhile the Russians, who had crossed the Danube, found it advisable to retreat and withdraw _ , across the Pruth, on a threat of hostilities from Austria and England and _ .... France Come Prussia unless the principalities were evacuated. to the Aid of The French had met with heavy losses in an advance from Varna, and the British fleet had made an expedition against St. Petersburg, but had been checked before the powerful fortress of Cronstadt. Such was the state of affairs in the summer of 1854, when the allies determined to carry the war into the enemy's territory, attack the maritime city of Sebastopol in the Crimea, and seek to destroy the Russian naval power in the Black Sea. Of the allied armies 15,000 men had already perished. With the remaining forces, rather more than 50,000 British and French and 6,000 Turks, the fleet set sail in September across the Black Sea,- and landed near Eupatoria on the west coast of the Crimean peninsula, on the 4th of Sep- tember, 1854. Southwards of Eupatoria the sea forms a bay, The War in the . ,- , • r 1 1, r x 1 i_ Crimea into which, near the ruins of the old town of lnkermann, the little river Tschernaja pours itself. On its southern side lies the fortified town of Sebastopol, on its northern side strong fortifica- tions were raised for the defence of the fleet of war which lay at anchor in the bay. Farther north the western mountain range is intersected by the river Alma, over which Prince Menzikoff, governor of the Crimea, garrisoned the heights with an army of 30,000 men. Against the latter the allies first directed their attack, and, in spite of the strong position of the Russians on the rocky slopes, Menzikoff was compelled to retreat, owing his escape from entire destruction only to the want of cavalry in the army of the allies. This dearly bought and bloody battle on the Alma gave rise to hopes of a speedy termination of the campaign ; but the allies, weakened and wearied by the fearful struggle, delayed a further attack, and Menzikoff gained time to strengthen his garrison, and to surround Sebastopol with strong fortifica- tions. When the allies approached the town they were soon convinced that any attack on such formidable defences would be fruitless, and that they must await the arrival of fresh reinforcements and ammunition. The Eng- lish took up their position on the Bay of Balaklava, and the French to the west, on the Kamiesch. There now commenced a sieo-e such as has seldom occurred in the history of the world. The first attempt to storm by a united attack of the land army and the fleet showed the resistance to be much more formidable than had been expected by the allies. Eight days later the English were surprised in their strong position near Balaklava by General Liprandi. j \ -..# • fffSf ! / ^mf**M. AW7 v3Hk I „ >~ 7 IT 1 % w m* ... 1 * i r , »v BABmt ^H ■ • ,«* . *H £1 ■s ° X 1J < 2 Li. o I- < m bl I h Q Z 4 gallant dragoons. And now came the unfortunate but world-famous event of the day. It was due to a mistaken order. Lord Raglan, thinking that the Russians intended to carry off the lmius captured in the Turkish ri sent an order to the brigade of light cavalry to "advance rapidly to tin- front and prevent the enemy from carrying oil the guns." 1 62 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE Lord Lucan, to whom the command was brought, did not understand Captain Nolan lt - Apparently, Captain Nolan, who conveyed the order, did and the Order not clearly explain its purport. to Charge "Lord Raglan orders that the cavalry shall attack im- mediately," he said, impatient at Lucan's hesitation. " Attack, sir ; attack what ?" asked Lucan. " There, my lord, is your enemy ; there are your guns," said Nolan, with a wave of his hand towards the hostile lines. The guns he appeared to indicate were those of a Russian battery at the end of the valley, to attack which by an unsupported cavalry charge was sheer madness. Lucan rode to Lord Cardigan, in command of the cavalry, and repeated the order. " But there is a battery in front of us and guns and riflemen on either flank," said Cardigan. " I know it," answered Lucan. " But Lord Raglan will have it. We have no choice but to obey." " The brigade will advance," said Cardigan, without further hesitation. In a moment more the "gallant six hundred" were in motion — going in the wrong direction, as Captain Nolan is thought to have percieved. At all events he spurred his horse across the front of the brigade, waving his sword as if with the intention to set them right. But no one understood him, and at that instant a fragment of shell struck him and hurled him dead o to the earth. There was no further hope of stopping the mad charge. On and on went the devoted Light Brigade, their pace increasing at every stride, headed straight for the Russian battery half a league away. The Charge As they went fire was opened on them from the guns in flank. of the Light Soon they came within range of the guns in front, which also opened a raking fire. They were enveloped in " a zone of fire, and the air was filled with the rush of shot, the bursting of shells, and the moan of bullets, while amidst the infernal din the work of death went on, and men and horses were incessantly dashed to the ground." But no thought of retreat seems to have entered the minds of those brave dragoons and their gallant leader. Their pace increased ; the) reached the battery and dashed in among- the guns ; the gunners were cut down as they served their pieces. Masses of Russian cavalry standing near were charged and forced back. The men fought madly in the face of death until the word came to retreat. Then, emerging from the smoke of the battle, a feeble remnant of the " gallant six hundred" appeared upon the plain, comprising one or two large groups, though the most of them were in scattered parties of two or three. TURKEY, THE "SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 163 One group of about seventy men cut their way through tl [uadrons of Russian lancers. Another party of equal strength broke through a second interceptin Out of some 647 men in all, 247 were killed and wounded, and nearly all the horses were slain. Lord Cardigan, the first The Sad F.nd to enter the battery, was one of those who came back alive. of a Deed The whole affair 1 ipied no more than twenty minutes. Mut it was a twenty minutes of which the British nation has ever since be proud, and which Tennyson has made famous by one of the most spirit stirring of his odes. The French General Bosquet fairly characterized it by his often quoted remark .- "C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre." (It is magnificent, but it is not \\ These battles in the field brought no changes in the state of affairs. The siege of Sebastopol went on through the winter of [854 55, during which the allied arm)- suffered the utmost misery and privation, partly the effect of climate, largely the result of fraud and incompetency at home. Sisters of Mercy and self-sacrificing English ladies -chief among them the noble Florence Nightingale — strove to assuage the sufferings brought on the soldiers by cold, hunger, and disease, but these enemies proved more fatal than the sword. In the year 1855 the war was carried on with increased energy. Sardi- nia joined the allies and sent them an army of [5,000 men. Austria broke with Russia anil began preparations for war. And in March the obstinate czar Nicholas died and his milder son Alexander took his place. Peace was de- manded in Russia, yet 25.000 of her sons had fallen and the honor of the nation seemed involved. The war went on, both sides increasing their forces. Month by month the allies more closely invested the 1 city. After the middle of August the assault became almost incessant, cannon balls dropping like 1 an tiiiv torm of hail in forts and streets. On the 5th of S» ptember began a terrific bombardment, continuing day ami night for three days, and sweeping down more than 5,000 Russians on the ramparts. At length, as the hour of noon struck on The Assault en September 8th, the attack of which this play of artillery was andCaptu!- the prelude began, the French assailing the Malakoff, the of Seb - British the Redan, these being the must formidable of the defensive works of the town. The French assault was successful and Sebastopol became untenable. That night the Russians blew up their remaining forts, sunk their ships of war, and marched out of the town, leaving it as the prize of victory to the allies. Soon after Russia gained a success by capturing the Turkish fortress of Kars, in Asia Minor, and, her honor satisfied with this success, a treaty of peace was concluded. In this treaty the Black Sea v 1 64 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE made neutral and all ships of war were excluded from its waters, while the safety of the Christians of Wallachia, Moldavia and Servia was assured by making these principalities practically independent, under the protection of the powers of Europe. Turkey came out of the war weakened and shorn of territory. But the Turkish idea of government remained unchanged, and in twenty years' time Russia was fairly goaded into another war. In 1875 Bosnia Bosnia rebelled in consequence of the insufferable oppression of the Turkish tax-collectors. The brave Bosnians maintained themselves so sturdily in their mountain fastnesses that the Turks almost despaired of subduing them, and the Christian subjects of the Sultan in all quarters became so stirred up that a general revolt was threatened. The Turks undertook to prevent this in their usual fashion. Irregular troops were sent into Christian Bulgaria -with orders to kill all they met. It was an order to the Mohammedan taste. The defenceless villages of Bul- garia were entered and their inhabitants slaughtered in cold blood, till thousands of men, women, and children had been slain. When tidings of these atrocities reached Europe the nations were filled with horror. The Sultan made smooth excuses, and diplomacy The "Bulgarian sought to settle the affair, but it became evident that a mas- Horror" and sacre so terrible as this could not be condoned so easily. Disraeli, then prime minister of Great Britain, sought to dispose of these reports as matters for jest ; but Gladstone, at that time in retirement, arose in his might, and by his pamphlet on the " Bulgarian Horrors" so aroused public sentiment in England that the government dared not back up Turkey in the coming war. Hostilities were soon proclaimed. The Russians, of the same race and relig- ious sect as the Bulgarians, were excited beyond control, and in April, 1877, Alexander II. declared war against Turkey The outrages of the Turks had been so flagrant that no allies came to their aid, while the rottenness of their empire was shown by the rapid advance of the Russian armies. They crossed the Danube in June. In a month later they had occupied the principal passes of the Balkan mountains and were in posi- tion to descend on the broad plain that led to Constantinople. But at this point in their career they met with a serious check. Osman Pasha, the single Turkish commander of ability that the war developed, occupied the town of Plevna with such forces as he could gather, fortified it as strongly as possible, and from behind its walls defied the Russians. They dared not advance and leave this stronghold in their rear. For five months all the power of Russia and the skill of its generals were held in TURKEY, THE "SICK MAN" OF EUROPE 165 check by this brave man and his few followers, until Europe and America alike looked on with admiration at his remarkable defence, in view of which the cause of the war was almost forgotten. The Russian osman Pacha general Krudener was repulsed with the loss of 8,000 men. and the De- The daring Skobeleff strove in vain to launch his troops over enceo eNna Osman 's walls. At length General Todleben undertook the adopting the slow but safe method of starving out the defenders. ( Israan Pacha now showed his coura he had already shown his endurance. When hui and disease he.. in to reduce the strength of his men, he resolve on a final desperate effort. Atthe head of his brave garrison the "Lion of Plevna" sallied from the city, and fought with desperate courage to break through the circle of his foes. He was finally driven back into the city and com- pelled to surrender. Osman had won glory, and his fall was the fall of the Turkish cause. The Russians crossed the Balkan, capturing in the Schipka Pass a Turkish army of 30,000 men. Adrianople was taken, and the Turk- The Total i>e- ish line of retreat cut off. The Russians marched to the feat of the Bosporus, and the Sultan was compelled to sue for peace to ur * save his capital from falling into the hands of the Christians, as it had fallen into those' of the Turks lour centuries before. Russia had won the game for which she had made so long a struggle. The treaty of San Stefano practically decreed the dissolution of the Turkish Empire. But at this juncture the other nations of Europe took part. They were not content to see the balance of power destroyed by Russia becoming master of Constantinople, and England demanded that the treaty should be revised by the European power-,. Russia protested, but Disraeli threatened war, and the czar gave way. The Congress of Berlin, to which the treaty was referred, s< ttled the question in the following manner: Montenegro, Roumania, and Servia were lared independent, and Bulgaria became fn pt that TTlic Coivrc ts it had to pay an annual tribute to the sultan. The part of of Berlin' Bulgaria that lay south of the Balkan Mountains was named East Roumelia and given its own civil government, but was left under the military control of Turkey. Bosnia and 1 1 ina were placed under the control of Austria. All that Russia obtained for her victories were some provinces in Asia Minor. Turkey was terribly shorn, and since then her power has been further reduced, for East Roumelia has broken loose from her control and united itself again to Bulgaria Another twenty years passed, and Turkey found itself at war again. It was the old story, the oppression of the Christians This time the trouble i66 TURKEY, THE " SICK MAN" OF EUROPE began in Armenia, a part of Turkey in Asia, where in 1895 and 1896 terrible massacres took place. Indignation reigned in Europe, but fears The Turks in °f a general war kept them from using force, and the sultan Armenia and paid no heed to the reforms he promised to make. In 1896 the Christians of the island of Crete broke out in revolt against the oppression and tyranny of Turkish rule. Of all the powers of Europe little Greece was the only one that came to their aid, and the great nations, still inspired with the fear of a general war, sent their fleet and threatened Greece with blockade unless she would withdraw her troops. The result was one scarcely expected. Greece was persistant, and gathered a threatening army on the frontier of Turkey, and war broke out in 1897 between the two states. The Turks now, under an able commander, showed much of their ancient valor and intrepidity, crossing the frontier, de- feating the Greeks in a rapid series of engagements, and occupying Thessaly. while the Greek army was driven back in a state of utter demoralization. At this juncture, when Greece lay at the mercy of Turkey, as Turkey had The War Be= ^ am at tnat °f Russia twenty years before, the powers, which tween Turkey had refused to aid Greece in her g-enerous but hopeless effort, AC 01 stepped in to save her from ruin. Turkey was bidden to call a halt, and the sultan reluctantly stopped the march of his army. He de- manded the whole of Thessaly and a large indemnity in money. The former the powers refused to grant, and reduced the indemnity to a sum within the power of Greece to pay. Thus the affair ended, and such is the status of the Eastern Question to-day. But it may be merely a question of time when Russia shall accomplish her long-cherished design, and become master of Constantinople ; possibly by the way of Asia, in which her power is now so rapidly and widely extending. CHAPTER XI. The European Revolution of 1848. THE revolution of 1830 did not bring ; tnd quiet to France nor to Europe. In France the people grew dissatisfied with their new monarch; in Europe generally they demanded a greater share of liberty. Louis Philippe delayed to extend the suffrage; he used his high position to add to his great riches ; he failed to win the hearts of the French, and was widely accused of selfishness and greed. There were risings of legitimists in favor of the Bourbons, while the republican element w opposed to monarchy. No less than eight attempts were made to remove the king by assassination — all of them failures, but they showed opposition in the disturbed state of public feeling. Liberty, equality, fra- France to ternity became the watchwords of the working classes, social- Louis Philippe istic ideas arose and spread, and the industrial element of the various nations became allied in one great body of revolutionists known as the " Internationalists." In Germany the demand of the people for political rights grew until it reached a crisis. The radical writings of the "Young Germans," the stirring songs of their poets, the bold utterances of the press, the doctrines o! the " Friends of Light" among the Protestants and of the " German Catholics" among the Catholics, all went to show that the people we deeply dissatisfied alike with the state arid the church. They were rapidly arousing from their sluggish acceptance of the work of the Congress of Vienna oi [815, and the spirit oi liberty was in the air. The King of Prussia, Frederick William IV., saw danger ahead. He came king in 1840 and lost no time in trying to make his , , . , .. , , , Revolutionary rule popular by reforms. An edict oi toleration was issued, sentiment in the sittings oi the courts were opened to the public, and the Germany and Estates of the provinces were called to meet in Berlin. In y the convening of a Parliament he had given the people a voice. The Estates demanded J imofthi pi id of the state with such eloquence and energy that the king dared not resist them. The people had i a great step in their progress towards liberty. (167) 1 68 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1S48 In Italy also the persistent demands of the people met with an encour- aging response. The Pope, Pius IX., extended the freedom of the press, gave a liberal charter to the City of Rome, and began the formation of an Italian confederacy. In Sicily a revolutionary outbreak took place, and the King of Naples was compelled to give his people a constitution and a parliament. His example was followed in Tuscany and Sardinia. The tyrannical Duke of Modena was forced to fly from the vengeance of his people, and the throne of Parma became vacant by the death in 1847 of Maria Louisa, the widow of Napoleon Bonaparte, a woman little loved and Ifss respected. The Italians were filled with hope by these events. Freedom and the unity of Italy loomed up before their eyes. Only two obstacles stood in their way, the Austrians and the Jesuits, and both of these were bitterly hated. Gioberti, the enemy of the Jesuits, was greeted with cheers, under which might be heard harsh cries of " Death to the Germans." Such was the state of affairs at the beginning of 1848. The measure of liberty granted the people only whetted their appetite for more, and over all Western Europe rose an ominous murmur, the voice of the people demanding the rights of which they had so long been deprived. In France this demand was growing dangerously insistant ; in Paris, the centre ol European revolution, it threatened an outbreak. Reform banquets were the order of the day in France, and one was arranged for in Paris to signa lize the meeting of the Chambers. Guizot, the historian, who was then minister of foreign affairs, had deeply offended the liberal party of France by his reactionary policy. The government threw fuel on the fire by forbidding the banquet and taking steps to suppress it by military force. The people were enraged The Outbreak . , . r , , . .... in Paris "Y tnis i a ^ se ste P an d began to gather in excited groups. Throngs of them — artisans, students, and tramps — were soon marching through the streets, with shouts of "Reform! Down with Guizot !" The crowds rapidly increased and grew more violent. The people were too weak to cope with them ; the soldiers were loath to do so ; soon barricades were erected and fighting began. For two days this went on. Then the king, alarmed at the situation, dimissed Guizot and promised reform, and the people, satisfied for the time and proud of their victory, paraded the streets with cheers and songs. All now might have gone well but for a hasty and violent act on the part of the troops. About ten o'clock at night a shouting and torch-bearing throng marched through the Boulevards, singing and waving flags. Reaching the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, they halted and called for its illumination. £ o o a f r a ■^.= PI (/) > ■ » n Z * £ " S < -■ r. o w = - ■a o " a 3-3 Wo S ■§& ► *a _ . 2 (a £ o o n > j* - - d Z Vh s s - »■ o.^ w v*d 1 - 3-S T »-H 3 I- S-.2 O o a 2 o s!j U u -i fc-8-g « * o S Si!" ? ••§ "■ a§§ O S So. c S « ,„ .g nai O n « Z U a OS'S £ a o d "a o-lS u J3 id |" H -Sg §1 fe .s ■3 -a S* THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF li 171 The troops on duty then- interfered, and, on an insult to their colonel ami the firing of a shot from the mob, they replied with a volley, before which fifty-two of the people fill killed and wounded. This reckless and sanguinary deed was enough to turn revolt into revolution. The cocpses were carried on biers through the streets by the infuriati >ple, the accompanying torch-bearers shouting: R ev0 | t 'To arms! they an- murdering us !" At midnight the tocsin Becomes call ran- from the bells of Notre Dame ; the barricades, which Revolution had been partly removed, were restored; and the next morning, February 24, 1S4S, Paris was in arms. In the str that followed they were quickly victorious, and the capital was in their hands. Louis Philippe followed the example of Charles X.. abdicated his throne and fled to England. After the fate of Louis XVI. no monarch was willing to wait and face a Paris mob. The kingdom was overthrown, and a republic, the second which France had known, was established, the ed I Hipont de FEure being chosen president. The poet Lamartine, the socialist Louis Blanc, the statesmen Ledru-Rollin and Arago became members of the Cabinet, and all looked forward to a reign The Second of peace and prosperity. The socialises tried the experi- French ment of establishing national workshops in which artisans epu were to be employed at the expense of the state, with the idea that this would give work to all. Yet the expected prosperity did not come. The state was soon deeply in debt, many of the people remained unemployed, and the condition of in- dustry grew worse day by day. The treasury proved incapable of paying the state arl i sans, and the public workshops wen.' closed. In June the trouble came to a crisis and a new and sanguinary outbreak began, instigated by the hungry and disappointed workmen, and led by the advocates of the " Red Republic," who acted with ferocious brutality. General Brea and the Arch- bishop of Paris were murdered, and the work of slaughter grew so horrible that the National Assembly, to put an end to it, made General Cavaignac dictator and commissioned him to put down the revolt. A terrible struggle ensued between the mob and the troops, ending in the suppression of the revolt and the arrest and banishment of many of its ringleaders. Ten or twelve thousand people had been killed. The National Assembly adopted a republican constitution, under which a single- legislative chamber and a president t<> be elected every four years were provided lor. The assembly wished to make General Cavaignac president, but the nation, blinded by their faith in the name of tin great a mqueror, elected by an almost unani- mous vote his nephew, Louis Napoleon, a man who had suttered a long i 7 2 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 term of imprisonment for his several attempts against the reign of the late king. The revolution, for the time being, was at an end, and France was a republic again. The effect of this revolution in France spread far and wide through Europe. Outbreaks occurred in Italy, Poland, Switzerland and Ireland, and in Germany the revolutionary fever burned hot. Baden Fffect of the Revolution was the first state to yield to the demands of the people for of 1848 in freedom of the press, a parliament and other reforms, and went so far as to abolish the imposts still remaining from feudal times. The other minor states followed its example. In Saxony v Wiirtemberg and other states class abuses were abolished, liberals given prominent positions under government, the suffrage and the legislature reformed, and men of liberal sentiment summoned to discuss the formation of new constitutions. But it was in the great despotic states of Germany — Prussia and Aus- tria — that the liberals gained the most complete and important victory, and went farthest in overthrowing autocratic rule and establishing constitutional government. The great Austrian statesman who had been a leader in the Congress of Vienna and who had suppressed liberalism in Italy, Prince Met- ternich, was still, after more than thirty years, at the head of His System affairs in Vienna. He controlled the policy of Austria; his word was law in much of Germany; time had cemented his authority, and he had done more than any other man in Europe in maintain- ing despotism and building a dam against the rising flood of liberal senti- ment. But the hour of the man who had destroyed the work of Napoleon was at hand. He had failed to recognize the spirit of the age or to perceive that liberalism was deeply penetrating Austria. To most of the younger statesmen of Europe the weakness of his policy and the rottenness of his system were growing apparent, and it was evident that they must soon fall before the onslaught of the advocates of freedom. An incitement was needed, and it came in the news of the Paris revohi' tion. At once a hot excitement broke out everywhere in Austria. From Hungary came a vigorous demand for an independent parliament, reform of the constitution, decrease of taxes, and relief from the burden of the na- tional debt of Austria. From Bohemia, whose rights and privileges had been seriously interfered with in the preceding year, came similar demands. In Vienna itself the popular outcry for increased privileges grew insistant. The excitement of the people was aggravated by their distrust of the paper money of the realm and by a great depression in commerce and indua THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 173 try. Daily more workmen were thrown out of employment, and s> ■■ throngs of the hungry and discontented gathered in th is. Stu as usual, led away by their boyish love of excitement, were the first to create a disturbance, but others soon joined in, i n Vienna and the affair quickly became serio The old system was evidently at an end The policy of Metternich could restrain the people no longer. Lawlessness became general, exi ,xvere committed by the mob, the dwellings of those whom the popula hated were attacked and plundered, the authorities were resisted with arms, and the danger of an overthrow of the government grew imminent. T press, which had gained freedom of utterance, added to the peril of the situation by its inflammatory appeals to the people, and by its violence checked the progress of the reforms which it demanded. Metternich, by his system of restraint, had kept the people in ignorance of the first principles of political affairs, and the liberties which they now asked foi 1 them to be unadapted to a liberal government. The old minister, whose system was falling in ruins about him, lied from the country and sought a refuge in England, that haven of political failures. In May, 1S4S, the emperor, alarmed at the threatening state of affairs, left his capital and withdrew to Innsbruck. The tidings () f his withdrawal stirred the people to passion, and the outbreak of mob Flight and Re» violence which followed was the fiercest and most dangerous turn of the that had yet occurred. Gradually, however, the tumult was Emperor appeased, a constitutional assembly was called into being and opened by the Archduke John, and the Emperor Ferdinand re-entered Vienna amid the warm acclamations of the people. Idle outbreak was at an end. Austria had been converted from an absolute to .1 constitutional monarch)'. In Berlin the spirit of revolution became as marked as in Vienna. The King resisted the demands of the people, who soon cam'- into conflict with the soldiers, a fierce street fight breaking out which continued with violence for two weeks. The revolutionists demanded the removal of the troops and the formation of a citizen militia, ami the kin-", alarmed _ „ . Revolt in at the dangerous crisis in affairs, at last assented. The troops Prussia and were accordingly withdrawn, the obnoxious ministry was dis- theGerman missed, and a citizen-guard was created for tin- defence of the city. Three days afterwards the king promised to govern as a constitu- tional monarch, an assembly was elected by universal suffrage, and to it was given the work of preparing a constitution for the Prussian state. Here, as in Austria, the revolutionists had won the day and irresponsible rrovern- ment was at an end- i 74 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF 1848 Elsewhere in Germany radical changes were taking place. King Louis of Bavaria, who had deeply offended his people, resigned in favor of his son. The Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt did the same. Everywhere the liberals were in the ascendant, and were gaining freedom of the press and constitu- tional government. The formation of Germany into a federal empire was proposed and adopted, and a National Assembly met at Frankfort on May 18, 1848. It included many of the ablest men of Germany. Its principal work was to organize a union under an irresponsible executive, who was to be surrounded by a responsible ministry. The Archduke John of Austria was selected to fill this new, but brief imperial position, and made a solemn entry into Frankfort on the nth of July. All this was not enough for the ultra radicals. They determined to found a German republic, and their leaders, Hecker and Struve, called the people to arms. An outreak took place in Baden, but it was quickly sup- pressed, and the republican movement came to a speedy end. In the north The Schleswig= war broke out between Denmark and Schleswig-Holstein, Holstein united duchies which desired to be freed from Danish rule and annexed to Germany, and called for German aid. But just then the new German Union was in no condition to come to their assistance, and Prussia preferred diplomacy to war, with the result that Denmark came out victorious from the contest. As will be seen in a later chapter, Prussia, under the energetic leadership of Bismarck, came, a number of years after- wards, to the aid of these discontented duchies, and they were finally torn from Danish control. While these exciting events were taking place in the north, Italy was swept with a storm of revolution from end to end. Metternich was no longer at hand to keep it in check, and the whole peninsula seethed with re- volt. Sicily rejected the rule of the Bourbon king of Naples, chose the Duke of Genoa, son of Charles Albert of Sardinia, for its and Sardinia king, an d during a year fought for liberty. This patriotic effort of the Sicilians ended in failure. The Swiss mercenaries of the Neapolitan king captured Syracuse and brought the island into subjec- tion, and the tyrant hastened to abolish the constitution which he had been frightened into granting in his hour of extremity. In the north of Italy war broke out between Austria and Sardinia. Milan and Venice rose against the Austrians and drove out their garrisons, throughout Lombarcly the people raised the standard of independence, and Charles Albert of Sardinia called his people to arms and invaded that coun- try, striving to free it and the neighboring state of Venice from Austrian rule. For a brief season he was successful, pushing the Austrian troops to THE El 'KOP1-:. LV RE I '< >/. f ' Tli >X < )F 1848 175 the frontiers, but the old Marshal Radetzky defeated htm at Verona and compelled him to sei k safety in flight. The nexl year he renewed his tempt, but with no better success. Depressed by his failure, he resigned the crown io his son Victor Emmanuel, who made a disadvantageous peace with Austria. Venice held out for several months, but was finally subdued, and Austrian rule was restored in the north. .Meanwhile the pope, I'ius IX., offended his people by his unwillingn to aid Sardinia against Austria, lie promised to grant a constitutional government and convened an Assembly in koine, but the '. . . , . . , The Revolution Democratic people ol the state were not content with in liomc feeble concessions of this kind. Rossi, prime minister of the state, was assassinated, and the pope, filled with alarm, fled in disguise, leav- ing the Papal dominion to the revolutionists, who at once proclaimed a republic and confiscated the property of the Church. Mazzini, the leader of " Young Italy," the ardent revolutionist who had long worked in exile for Italian independence, entered the Eternal City, and with him Garibaldi, long a political refugee in America and a gallant parti- san leader in the recent war with Austria. The arrival of these celebrated revolutionists filled the democratic party in Rome with the greatest enthu- siasm, and it was resolved to defend the States of the Church to the last extremity, viewing them as the final asylum of Italian liberty. In this extremity the pope called on France for aid. That country responded by sending an army, which landed at Civita-Vecchia and marched upon and surrounded Rome. The new-comers declared that they came as friends, not as foes; it was not their purpose to overthrow the republic, but to defend the capital from Austria and Naples. The leaders of the insur- gents in Rome did not trust their pn - and promises and refused their. admittance. A fierce struggle followed. The republicans capture of defended themselves stubbornly. For weeks they defied the Rome by the orts of General Oudinot and his troops. Rutin the end '" rcnch Army they were forced to yield, a conditional submission was made, and the French soldiers occupied the city. Garibaldi, Mazzini, and others of the leaders 'i. to flight, and the old conditions were gradually resumed under the con- trolling influence of French bayonets. For years afterwards the French held the city as the allies and guard of the po The revolutionary spirit, which had given rise to war in Italy, yielded a still more resolute and sanguinary conflict in Hungarv, , , ,. . , , . , 1 x , ,. ' The Outbreak whose people were divided against themselves. 1 he Magyars, fn Hungary the descendants of the old Huns, who demanded govern- mental institutions of their own, separate from these of Austria, though 10 ! 76 THE EUROPEAN REVOLUTION OF iSj.8 under the Austrian monarch, were opposed by the Slavonic part of che population, and war began between them. Austrian troops were ordered to the aid of Jellachich, the ruler of the Slavs of Croatia in South Hungary, but their departure was prevented by the democratic people of Vienna, who rose in violent insurrection, induced by their sympathy with the Magyars. The whole city was quickly in tumult, an attack was made on the arsenals, and the violence became so great that the emperor again took to flight. War in Austria followed. A strong army was sent to subdue the rebellious city, which was stubbornly defended, the students' club being the centre of the revolutionary movement. Jellachich led his Croatians to the aid of the emperor's troops, the city was surrounded and besieged, sallies and assaults were of daily occurrence, and for a week and more a bloody conflict continued day and night. Vienna was finally taken by storm, the Vienna Cap. troops forcing their way into the streets, where shocking turedby scenes of murder and violence took place. On November 21, 1848, Jellachich entered the conquered city, martial law was proclaimed, the houses were searched, the prisons filled with captives, and the leaders of the insurrection put to death. Shortly afterwards the Emperor Ferdinand abdicated the throne in favor of his youthful nephew, Francis Joseph, who at once dissolved the con- stitutional assembly and proclaimed a new constitution and a new code of laws. Hungary was still in arms, and offered a desperate resistance to the Austrians, who now marched to put down the insurrection. They found it no easy task. The fiery eloquence of the orator Kossuth roused the Magyars to a desperate resistance, Polish leaders came to their support, foreign volunteers strengthened their ranks, Gorgey, their chief leader, showed great military skill, and the Austrians were driven out and the fortresses taken. The independence of Hungary was now proclaimed, and a government established under Kossuth as provisional president. The repulse of the Austrians nerved the young emperor to more The Hungarian strenuous exertions. The aid of Russia was asked, and the Revoltandits insurgent state invaded on three sides, by the Croatians from the south, the Russians from the north, and the Austrians, under the brutal General Haynau, from the west. The conflict continued for several months, but quarrels between the Hungarian leaders weakened their armies, and in August, 1849, Gorgey, who had been declared dictator, surrendered to the invaders, Kossuth and the other leaders seeking safety in flight. Haynau made himself infamous by his cruel treatment of the Hungarian people, particularly by his use of 77//: EURi >/'/•:. IX RE I '( '/ 1 Tf< W OF 1848 177 the lash upon women Misconduct raised such wide-spread indignation that he was roughly handled l>y a party of brewers, on his visit to London in 1850. With the fall of Hungary the revolutionary movement of 1848 came to an end. The German Union had already disappeared. There wen' various other disturbances, besides those we have recorded, but finally all the states settled down to peace and quiet. Its results had been L;reat in increasing the political privileges of the people of Western Europe, and with it the reign of despotism in that section of the continent came to an end. The greatest hero of the war in Hungary was undoubtedly Louis Kossuth, whose name has remained familiar among those of the patriots of his century. From Hungary he made his way to Turkey, where he was imprisoned fortwo years at Kutaieh, being finally released through the inter- vention of the governments of Great Britain and the United States. He then visited England, where he was received with enthusiastic, popular demon- strations and ma eral admirable speeches in the English language, of which he had excellent command. In the autumn of 1 S 5 1 he came to the United States, where he had a I ig reception and spoke on the wr< of Hungary to enthusiastic audiences in the principal cities. CHAPTER XII Louis Napoleon and the Second French Empire. TM4E name of Napoleon is a name to conjure with in France. Two generations after the fall of Napoleon the Great, the people of that country had practically forgotten the misery he had brought them, and remembered only the glory with which he had crowned the name of France. When, then, a man whom we may fairly designate as Napoleon the Small offered himself for their suffrages, they cast their votes almost unanimously in his favor. Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, to give this personage his full name, was a son of Louis Bonaparte, once king of Holland, and Hortense de Beauharnais, and had been recognized by Napoleon as, after his father, Louis Napoleon tne direct successor to the throne. This he made strenuous and His Claim efforts to obtain, hoping to dethrone Louis Philippe and in- to the Throne sta] j himself ; n his pla ^ e . i n l836) w ith a few followers, he made an attempt to capture Strasbourg. His effort failed and he was arrested and transported to the United States. In 1839 he published a work entitled " Napoleonic Ideas," which was an apology for the ambitious acts of the first Napoleon. The growing unpopularity of Louis Philippe tempted him at this time to make a second attempt to invade France. He did it in a rash way almost certain to end in failure. Followed by about fifty men, and bringing with him a tame eagle, which was expected to perch upon his banner as the harbinger of victory, he sailed from England in August, 1840, and landed at Boulogne. This desperate and foolish enterprise proved a complete A Rash and failure. The soldiers whom the would-be usurper expected Unsuccessful to join his standard arrested him, and he was tried for treason by the House of Peers. This time he was not dealt with so leniently as before, but was sentenced to imprisonment for life and was confined in the Castle of Ham. From this fortress he escaped in disguise in May, 1846, and made his way to England. The revolution of 1848 gave the restless and ambitious adventurer a more promising opportunity. He returned to France, was elected to the National Assembly, and on the adoption of the republican constitution (178) >- o z D I o z < o z l tlv and of Louis of the battle of Austerlitz, — he got rid of his nts by Na P oleon means of the memorable coup d eiat, and seized the supreme power of the state. The most influential members of the Assembly had been arrested during the preceding night, and when the hour for th ion oi the House- came the men most strongly op to the usurper were in prison. .Most ot them were afterwards exiled, some tor life, some for shorter terms. 1 his act of outrage and violation of the plighted faith of the president roused the Socialists and Republicans to the defence of their threatened liberties, insurrections broke out in Paris, Lyons, and other towns, street barricades were built, and severe fighting took place. But Napoleon had secured the army, and the revolt was suppressed with blood and slaughter. Baudin, one of the deposed deputies, was shot on the barricade in the Faubourg St. Antoine, while waving in his hand th< of the constitution. He was afterwards honored as a martyr to the cause of republicanism in France. i82 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE The usurper had previously sought to gain the approval of the people by liberal and charitable acts, and to win the goodwill of the civic authori- How Napoleon ties by numerous progresses through the interior. He posed Won Popular as a protector and promoter of national prosperity and the Support rights of the people, and sought to lay upon the Assembly all the defects of his administration. By these means, which aided to awaken the Napoleonic fervor in the state, he was enabled safely to submit his acts of violence and bloodshed to the approval of the people. The new consti- tution offered by the president was put to vote, and was adopted by the enormous majority of more than seven million votes. By its terms Louis Napoleon was to be president of France for ten years, with the power of a monarch, and the Parliament was to consist of two bodies, a Senate and a Legislative House, which were given only nominal power. This was as far as Napoleon dared to venture at that time. A year Louis Napoleon l ater > on December i, 1852, having meanwhile firmly cemented is Elected his power, he passed from president to emperor, again by a mperor vote of the people, of whom, according to the official report, 7,824,189 cast their votes in his favor. Thus ended the second French republic, an act of usurpation of the basest and most unwarranted character. The partisans of the new emperor were rewarded with the chief offices of the state ; the leading republicans languished in prison or in exile for the crime of doing their duty to their constituents ; and Armand Marrest, the most zealous champion of the republic, died of a broken heart from the overthrow of all his efforts and aspirations. The honest soldier and earnest patriot, Cavaignac, in a few years followed him to the grave. The cause of liberty in France seemed lost. The crowning of a new emperor of the Napoleonic family in France naturally filled Europe with apprehensions. But Napoleon III., as he styled himself, was an older man than Napoleon I., and seemingly less likely to be carried away by ambition. His favorite motto, "The Empire is peace," aided to restore quietude, and gradually the nations began to trust in his words, " France wishes for peace ; and when France is satisfied the world is quiet." Warned by one of the errors of his uncle, he avoided seeking a wife in the royal families of Europe, but allied himself with a Spanish lady of noble rank, the young and beautiful Eugenie de Montijo, duchess of theBrnDeror Teba. At the same time he proclaimed that, "A sovereign raised to the throne by a new principle should remain faithful to that principle, and in the face of Europe frankly accept the position of a parvenu, which is an honorable title when it is obtained by the public THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 18.3 suffrage of a great people For seventy years all princes' daughters mar- ried to rulers of France have been unfortunate; only one, fosephine, was remembered with affection by the French people, and she was not born of a royal house." The new emperor sought by active public works and acts of charity to win the approval of the people. He recognized the necessity of aiding the working classes as far as possible, and protecting them from poverty and wretchedness. During a dearth in 1S53 a "baking fund" was organized in Paris, the city contributing funds to enable bread to b at a low price. 1 'ains and embankments were built along the rivers to overcome l cts of floods. New streets were opened, bridges built, railways constructed, to increase internal traffic. Splendid buildings were erected for p u biic Works municipal and government purposes. Paris was given a new inPan'sand aspect by pulling down its narrow lanes, and building wide Frar, ce streets and magnificent boulevards— the latter, as was charged, for ; purpose ol depriving insurrection ol its lurking places. The great exhibi- tion of arts and industries in London was followed in 1854 by one in France, the largest and finest seen up to that time. Trade and industry were fostered by a reduction of tariff charges, joint stock companies and credit associations were favored, and in many ways Napoleon III. worked wisely and well for the prosperity ol France, the growth of its industrii and the improvement of the condition of its people. Hut the new empi ror, while thus actively engaged in labors of peace, by no means lived up to the spirit of his motto, " The Empire is peace." An empire founded upon the army needs to give employment to that army. A monarchy sustained by the votes of a people athirst for The Ambition glory needs to do something to appease that thirst. A throne of the Em- idled by a Napoleon could not safely ignore the " Napo- perc Iconic Ideas," and the first of these might be stated as "The Empire is war." And the new emperor was by no means satisfied to pose simply as the " nephew of his uncle." 1 le possessed a large share of the Napoleonic ambition, and hoped by military glory to surround his throne with some of the lustre of that of Napoleon the First. Whatever his private views, it is certain that France under his reign became the most aggressive nation of Europe, and the overweening ambition and self-confidence of the new emperor led him to the same end as his great uncle, that of disaster and overthrow. The very beginning of Louis Napoleon's career of greatness, as presi- dent of the French Republic, was signalized by an act of military aggression, in sending his army to Rome ami putting an end to the new Italian repub- 1 84 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE lie. These troops were kept there until 1866, and the aspirations of the Italian patriots were held in check until that year. Only when United Italy stood menacingly at the gates of Rome were these foreign troops with- drawn. In 1854 Napoleon allied himself with the British and the Turks against Russia, and sent an army to the Crimea, which played an effective part in the great strug-o-le in that peninsula. The troops of France The French in , , , . && f , • o 1 1 li the Crimea nac * tne honor 01 rendering Sebastopol untenable, carrying by storm one of its two great fortresses and turning its guns upon the city. The next act of aggression of the French emperor was against Aus- tria. As the career of conquest of Napoleon I. had begun with an attack upon the Austrians in Italy, Napoleon III. attempted a similar enterprise, and with equal success. He had long been cautiously preparing in secret for hostilities with Austria, but lacked a satisfactory excuse for declaring Orsini's At= war - This came in 1858 from an attempt at assassination. temptatAs- Felice Orsini, a fanatical Italian patriot, incensed at Napoleon from his failing to come to the aid of Italy, launched three explosive bombs against his carriage. The effect was fatal to many of the people in the street, though the intended victim escaped. Orsini won sym- pathy while in prison by his patriotic sentiments and the steadfastness of his love for his country. " Remember that the Italians shed their blood for Napoleon the great," he wrote to the emperor. " Liberate my country, and the blessings of twenty-five millions of people will follow you to posterity." Louis Napoleon had once been a member of a secret political society of Italy ; he had taken the oath of initiation ; his failure to come to the aid of that country when in power constituted him a traitor to his oath and one doomed to death ; the act of Orsini seemed the work of the society. That he was deeply moved by the attempted assassination is certain, and the re- sult of his combined fear and ambition was soon to be shown. On New Year's Day, 1859, while receiving the diplomatic corps at the Tuileries, Napoleon addressed the following significant words to the Aus- trian ambassador : " I regret that our relations are not so cordial as I could wish, but I beg you to report to the Emperor that my personal sentiments towards him remain unaltered." The Warlike Such is the masked way in which diplomats announce an Attitude of intention of war. The meaning of the threatening words was France and soon sno wn, when Victor Emmanuel, shortly afterwards, Sardinia announced at the opening of the Chambers in Turin that Sardinia could no longer remain indifferent to the cry for help which was THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 185 rising from all Italy. Ten years had passed since the defeat of the Sar- dinians on the plains of Lombardy. During that time they had cheri a hope of retribution, and it was now evident that an alliance had been made with France and that the hour of vengeance was at hand. Austria was ready for the contest. Her finances, indeed, were in a serious state, but she had a large army in Lombardy. This was incre; Lombard)- was declared in a state of siege, and every step was taken to guard againsl assault from Sardinia. Delay was disadvantageous to A .. as it would permit her enemies to complete their preparations, and on April 23, 1S59, an ultimatum came from Vienna, demanding that Sardinia should put her army on a peace footing or war would ensue, A refusal came from Turin. Immediately field-marshal Gyulai re- ceived orders to cross the Ticino. Thus, after ten years of peace, the beau- tiful plains of Northern Italy were once more to endure the \j van ceofthe ravages of war. This act of Austria was severely criticised Austrian by the neutral powers, which had been seeking to allay the Arm >' trouble. Napoleon took advantage of it, accusing Austria of breaking the peace by invading the territory of his ally, the king of Sardinia. The real fault committed by Austria, under the circumstances, was not in precipitating war, which could not well be avoided in the temper of her antagonists, but in putting, through court favor and privileges of rank, an incapable leader at the head of the army. Old Radetzky, the victor in the last war, was dead, but there were other able leaders who were thrust aside in favor of the Hungarian noble Franz Gyulai, a man without experience as commander-in-chief of an army. By his uncertain and dilatory movements Gyulai gave the Sardinians time to concentrate an army of 80,000 men around the fortress of A andria, and lost all the advantage ol being the; first in the field. In early May the French army reached Italy, partly by way of the St. Bernard Pass, partlv by sea ; and Garibaldi, with his mountaineers, took up a position that would enable him to attack die right wing of the Austrians. Later m the month Napoleon himself appeared, his presence and the name he bore inspiring the soldiers with new valor, while his _. _ . . 1 & The l-rench in first order of the day, in which he recalled the glorious deeds Italy and the which their fathers had done on those plains under his great March on uncle, roused them to the highest enthusiasm. While assum- ing the title of commander-in-chief, he left the conduct of the war to his able subordinates, MacMahon, Niel, Canrobert, and others. The Austrian general, having lost the opportunity to attack, was now put on the defensive, in which his incompetence was equally manifested. 1 86 THE SECOND TRENCH EMPIRE Being quite, ignorant of the position of the foe, he sent Count Stadion, with 12,000 men, on a reconnoisance. An encounter took place at Montebello on May 20th, in which, after a sharp engagement, Stadion was forced to retreat. Gyulai directed his attention to that quarter, leaving Napoleon to march unmolested from Alessandria to the invasion of Lombardy. Gyulai now, aroused by the danger of Milan, began his retreat across the Ticino, which he had so uselessly crossed. The road to Milan crossed the Ticino River and the Naviglio Grande, a broad and deep canal a few miles east of the river. Some distance farther on lies the village of Magenta, the seat of the first great battle of the war. Sixty years before, on those Lombard plains, Napoleon the Great had first lost, and then, by a happy chance, won the famous battle o/Blun'derv °f Marengo. The Napoleon now in command was a very different man from the mighty soldier of the year 1800, and the French escaped a disastrous rout only because the Austrians were led by a worse general still. Some one has said that victory conies to the army that makes the fewest blunders. Such seems to have been the case in the battle of Magenta, where military genius was the one thing wanting. The French pushed on, crossed the river without finding a man to dis- pute the passage, — other than a much-surprised customs official, —and reached an undefended bridge across the canal. The high road to Milan seemed deserted by the Austrians. But Napoleon's troops were drawn out in a preposterous line, straddling a river and a canal, both difficult to cross, and without any defensive positions to hold against an attack in force. He supposed that the Austrians were stretched out in a similar long line. This was not the case. Gyulai had all the advantages of position, and might have concentrated his army and crushed the advanced corps of the French if he had known his situation and his business. As it was, between ig-norance on the one hand and indecision on the other, the battle was fought with about equal forces on either hand. The first contest took place at Buffalora, a village on the canal where the French encountered the Austrians in force. Here a Buffalora and . . . , , , ,• • , L Magenta bloody struggle went on for hours, ending in the capture of the place by the Grenadiers of the Guard, who held on to It afterwards with stubborn courage. General MacMahon, in command of the advance, had his orders to march forward, whatever happened, to the church-tower of Magenta, and, in strict obedience to orders, he pushed on, leaving the grenadiers to hold their own as best they could at Buffalora, and heedless of the fact that the reserve troops of the army had not yet begun to cross the river. It was THE SECOND FN UNCI / EMPIRE 1S7 the 5th oi fune, and the day was well advanced when MacMahon cam-: in contact with the Austrians at Magenta, and the great ol the day began. It was a battle in which the commanders on both sides, with the excep- tion of MacMahon, showed lack of military skill and the soldiers on both sides the staunchest courage. The Austrians seemed devoid of plan or system, and their several divisions were beaten in detail by the French. < >n the other hand. General Camou, in command of the second division of MacMahon's corps, acted as Desaix had done at the battle of ,. ill 1 r 1 i- ii Camou's Dt-lih- IVlarengo, marched at the sound oi the distant cannon, but, er ate March unlike Desaix, he mo deliberately that it took him six hours to make less than five miles. He was a tactician of the old school. imbued with the idea that every march should be made in perfect order. At half-past four MacMahon, with his uniform in disorder and folio by a few officers of his staff , dashed ba< lurry up this del On the way thither he rode into a body ol Austrian sharp I 1 ■ tune favored him. Not dreaming of the presence ol the French general, they saluted him as one of their own commanders. On his way back he made a second narrow escape from capture by the Uhlans. The drums now beal the charge, and a determined attack was made by the French, the enemy's main column being taken between two tires. Des- perately resisting, it was forced back step by step upon Magenta. Into the town tin- columns rolled, and the fight became fierce around the church. High in the tower of this edifice stood the Austrian general and his watching the fortunes of the fray; and from this point he caught sight of the four regiments ol Camou, advancing as regularly as if on parade. They were not given the chance to fire a shot or receive a s< er as they were to take part in the fight. At sight of them the The French Austrian general ordered a retreat ,uu\ the battle was at an victory at end. The French owed their victory largely to General Mellinet and his Grenadiers of the Guard, who held their own like bull at Bullalora while Camou was advancing with the deliberation ol the old military rules. MacMahon ami Mellinet and the French had won the day. Victor Emmanuel and the Sardinians did not reach the ground until the battle was at end. For his services ^n that day of -lory for France MacMahon was made Marshal of France and I' ike of Magenta. The prize of the victory of Magenta was the possession of Lombard}-. Gyulai, unable to collect his scattered divisions, gave orders for a retreat. Milan was evacuated with precipitate haste, and the garri were withdrawn from all the towns, leaving them to be occupied by the 1 88 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE French and Italians. On the 8th of June Napoleon and Victor Emmanuel rode into Milan side by side, amid the loud acclamations of the people, who looked upon this victory as an assurance of Italian freedom and unity. Meanwhile the Austrians retreated without interruption, not Milan and the , , . ., , , , ,... . , , Quadrilateral halting until they arrived at the Mincio, where they were pro- tected by the famous Quadrilateral, consisting of the four powerful fortresses of Peschiera, Mantua, Verona, and Leguano, the main- stay of the Austrian power in Italy. The French and Italians slowly pursued the retreating Austrians, and on the 23d of June bivouacked on both banks of the Chiese River, about fifteen miles west of the Mincio. The Emperor Francis Joseph had recalled the incapable Gyulai, and, in hopes of inspiring his soldiers with new spirit, himself took command. The two emperors, neither of them soldiers, were thus pitted against each other, and Francis Joseph, eager to retrieve the disaster at Magenta, resolved to quit his strong position of defence in the Quadrilateral and assume the offensive. At two o'clock in the morning of the 24th the allied French and Italian army resumed its march, Napoleon's orders for the day being based upon the reports of his reconnoitering parties and spies. These led him to believe that, although a strong detachment of the enemy might be encountered west of the Mincio, the main body of the Austrians was await- ing him on the eastern side of the river. But the French intelligence department was badly served. The Austrians had stolen a march upon Napoleon. Undetected by the French scouts, they had re- The Armies croS sed the Mincio, and by nightfall of the 23d their leading on the Mincio ' . & ° & columns were occupying the ground on which the French were ordered to bivouac on the evening of the 24th. The intention of the Austrian emperor, now commanding his army in person, had been to push forward rapidly and fall upon the allies before they had completed the passage of the river Chiese. But this scheme, like that of Napoleon, was based on defective information. The allies broke up from their bivouacs many hours before the Austrians expected them to do so, and when the two armies came in contact early in the morning of the 24th of June the Aus trians were quite as much taken by surprise as the French. The Austrian army, superior in numbers to its opponents, was posted in a half-circle between the Mincio and Chiese, with the intention of press- ing forward from these points upon a centre. But the line was extended too far, and the centre was comparatively weak and without reserves. Napoleon, who that morning received complete intelligence of the position of the Austrian army, accordingly directed his chief strength against the c 7 C e c z o H n o ■n X m 2 O I > c H I o 3 CD p- > z B e u •C 3 a > p o 1 b rt p 0) 5 "t in U « L- o 'SoJ z SE-S a: J|£ u rt o-O 0. ^3 Ji « o J u« w d t. E o'SS li. fl-a o g* h *1 4 o 5 CD S E 2 g bl 4* ..? I IS H 5 1- .-^5 < *S rt W — .-0 a Z S rf V J3 o u _i o a-g CL < z THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE 191 enemy's centre, which rested upon a height near the village of Solferino. Here, on the 24th of June, after a murderous conflict, in which the French commanders hurled continually renewed masses against the decisive posi- tion, while on the other side the Austrian reinforcements failed through lack of unity of plan and decision of action, the heights were at length won by the French troops in spite of heroic resistance on the part of the Aus- trian soldiers; the Austrian line of battle being cut through, and the arm) thus divided into two separate m 1 >nd attack which Napoleon promptly directed against Cavriano had a similar result; for the commands given by the Austrian generals were confused and had no general and definite aim. The fate of the battle was already in a great measure decided, when a tremendous storm broke forth that solferino put an end to the combat at most points, and gave the Aus- trians an opportunity to retire in order. Only Benedek, who had twice beaten hack the Sardinians at various points, continued the struggle for some hours longer. On the French side Marshal Niel had pre-eminently distinguished himself by acuteness and bravery. It was a day of bloodshed, on which two great powers had measured their strength against each other for twelve hours. The Austrians had to lament the loss of 13,000 dead and wounded, and left 9,000 prisoners in the enemy's hands ; on the side of the French and Sardinians the number of killed and wounded was even greater, for the repeated attacks had been made upon well-defended heights, but the number of prisoners was not nearly so great. The victories in Italy filled the French people with the warmest admiration for their emperor, they thinking, in their enthusiasm, that a true successor of Napoleon the gnat had come to bring glory The Feeling in to their arms. Italy also was full of enthusiatic hope, fancying Prance and that the freedom ami unit)- of the Italians was at List assured. ay Both nations were, therefore, bitterly disappointed in learning that the war was at an end, and that a hasty peace had been arranged between the emperors, which left the hoped-for work but half achieved. Napoleon estimated his position better than his people. Despite his victories, his situation was one of danger and difficult)-. The army had suffered severely in its brief campaign, ami the Austrians were still in pos- session of the Quadrilateral, a square of powerful fortresses which he might seek in vain to reduce. And a threat of serious trouble had arisen in Ger- many. The victorious career of a new Napoleon in Italy was alarming. It was not easy to forget the past. The German powers, though they had declined to come to the aid of Austria, were armed and ready, and at any moment might begin a hostile movement upon the Rhine. i 9 2 THE SECOND FRENCH EMPIRE Napoleon, wise enough to secure what he had won, without hazarding its loss, arranged a meeting with the Austrian emperor, whom he found quite as ready for peace. The terms of the truce arranged A Meeting of M , . . & the Emperors between them were that Austria should abandon Lombardy and Treaty lo the line of the Mincio, almost its eastern boundary, and of Pgicg that Italy should form a confederacy under the presidency of the pope. In the treaty subsequently made only the first of these condi- tions was maintained, Lombardy passing to the kinof of Sardinia. He received also the small states of Central Italy, whose tyrants had fled, ceding to Napoleon, as a reward for his assistance, the realm of Savoy and the city and territory of Nice. Napoleon had now reached the summit of his career. In the succeed- ing years the French were to learn that they had put their faith in a hollow emblem of glory, and Napoleon to lose the prestige he had gained at Ma- genta and Solferino. His first serious mistake was when he yielded to the voice of ambition, and, taking advantage of the occupation of the Ameri- cans in their civil war, sent an army to invade Mexico. The ostensible purpose of this invasion was to collect a debt which the Mexicans had refused to pay, and Great Britain and Spain were induced to take part in the expedition. But their forces were withdrawn of Mexico when they found that Napoleon had other purposes in view, and his army was left to fight its battles alone. After some sanguinary engagements the Mexican army was broken into a series of guerilla bands, incapable of facing his well-drilled troops, and Napoleon proceeded to reorganize Mexico as an empire, placing the Archduke Maxi- milian of Austria on the throne. All went well while the people of the United States were fighting for their national union, but when their war was over the ambitious French em- peror was soon taught that he had committed a serious error. He was given plainly to understand that the French troops could only be kept in Mexico at the cost of a war with the United States, and he found it convenient to withdraw them early in 1867. They had no sooner gone than the Mexicans were in arms against Maximilian, and his rash determination to remain quickly led to his capture and execution as a usurper. The inaction of Napoleon during the wars which Prussia fought with Denmark and Austria gave further blows to his prestige in France, and the Napoleon Loses opposition to his policy of personal government grew so Prestige in strong that he felt himself obliged to submit his policy to a vote of the people. He was sustained by a large majority. Yet he perceived that his power was sinking. He was obliged to loosen the THE SEl "( >.\/ ) FRENC 7/ EMPIRE 1 93 n-iiis of government at home, though knowing that the yielding of incre; liberty to the people would weaken his own Finally, finding him- self failing in health, confidence, and reputation, he yielded to advisers who tolt! him that the only hope for his dynasty lay in a ful war, and un- dertook the war of 1S70 against Prus The origin and events of this war will be considered in a subsequent chapter. It will suffice to say here that its events proved Napoleon's in- capacity as a military emperor, he being utterly deceived in the condition of the French army and unwarrantably ignorant of that oi the Germans. He believed that the army of France was in the highest condition of organiza- tion and completely supplied, when the very contrary was the case; and was similarly deceived concerning the state of the military force of Pru The result was that which might have been expected. 1 ' 1 rraan tn admirably organized and excellently commani French in a i of engagments that fairly took the breath of the world by their rapidity and completeness, ending in the rapture ,,1 Napoleon and his army. As a consequence the second empire of France came to an end and Napoleon lost his throne. He died two years afterwards an exile in Eng- land, that place of shelter for French royal refugees. CHAPTER XIII. Garibaldi and the Unification of Italy. FROM the time of the fall of the Roman Empire until late in the nine- teenth century, a period of some fourteen hundred years, Italy re- mained disunited, divided up between a series of states, small and large, hostile and peaceful, while its territory was made the battlefield of the surrounding powers, the helpless prey of Germany, France, and Spain. Even the strong hand of Napoleon failed to bring it unity, and after his Unit fall its condition was worse than before, for Austria held most of the north and exerted a controlling power over the remainder of the peninsula, so that the fair form of liberty fled in dismay from its shores. But the work of Napoleon had inspired the patriots of Italy with a new sentiment, that of union. Before the Napoleonic era the thought of a united Italy scarcely existed, and patriotism meant adherence to Sardinia, Naples, or some other of the many kingdoms and duchies. After that era union became the watchword of the revolutionists, who felt that the only hope of giving Italy a position of dignity and honor among the nations Italian Unity ^ a Y m making it one country under one ruler. The history and Its of the nineteenth century in Italy is the record of the at- tempt to reach this end, and its successful accomplishment. And on that record the names of two men most prominently appear, Mazzini, the indefatigable conspirator, and Garibaldi, the valorous fighter; to whose names should be added that of the eminent statesmen, Count Cavour, and that of the man who reaped the benefit of their patriotic labors, Victor Emmanuel, the first king of united Italy. The basis of the revolutionary movements in Italy was the secret ^political association known as the Carbonari, formed early in the nineteenth century and including members of all classes in its ranks. In 1814 this powerful society projected a revolution in Naples, and in 1820 it was Th Carbonari stron g enough to invade Naples with an army and force from the king an oath to observe the new constitution which it had prepared. The revolution was put down in the following year by the Aus- trians, acting as the agents of the " Holy Alliance,"- — the compact of Austria, Prussia, and Russia. (194) GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION or ITALY 195 An ordinance was passed, condemning any one who should attend a meeting of the Carbonari to capital punishment. Hut the society contin to exist, despite this severe enactment, and lias been at the basis of many of the outbreaks that have taken place in Italy since [820. Mazzini, Gari- baldi, am! all the leading patriots were members of this powerful organiza- tion, which was daring enough to condemn Napoleon III. to death, and almost to succeed in his assassination, for his failure to live up to his obliga- tions as a member of the society. Giuseppe Mazzini, a native of Genoa, became a member of the Car- bonari in [830. His activity in revolutionary movements caused him soon after to be proscribed, and in 1831 he sought Marseilles, where lie organized a new political soci< ty called "Young Italy," whose watchword . , . ' , ,, ill- • • 1 1 Mazzini the was "God and the People, and whose basic principle was the Patriot union of the several states and kingdoms into one nation, as the only true foundation of Italian liberty. This purpose he avowed in hi> writings and pursued through exile and adversity with inflexible constancy, anc* it is largely due to the work of this earnest patriot that Italy to-day is a single kingdom instead of a medley of separate states. Only in one particular did he fail. His persistent purpose was to establish a republic, not a monarchy. While Mazzini was thus working with his pen, his compatriot, Giuseppe Garibaldi, was working as earnestly with his sword. This ,. ... . ^ r ... . . , ., , Early Career of daring soldier, a native: oi Nice and reared to a life on the Garibaldi sea, was banished as a revolutionist in 1834, and the succeed- ing fourteen years of his life were largely spent in South America, in whose wars he played a leading part. The revolution of 184S opened Italy to these two patriots, and they hastened to return, Garibaldi to offer his services to Charles Albert of Sardinia, by whom, however, he was treated with coldness and distrust. Mazzini, after founding the Roman republic in 1 illed" upon Garibaldi to come to its di and the latter displayed the greatest heroism in the contest against the Neapolitan and French invaders. He escaped from Rome on its capture by the French, and, after many desperate conflicts and adventures with the Austrians, was again driven into exile, and in 1850 became a resident of New York. For some time he worked in a manufactory of candles on Staten Island, and afterwards m \ ages on the Pacific. The war of 1859 opened a new ami promising channel for the devo- tion of Garibaldi to his n 1 nd. being appointed major- general and commissioned to raise a volunteer corps, he ♦ ♦il"'^* organized the hardy body of mountaineers called the " 1 luni< of the Alps," and with them performed prodigies of valor on the plains 11 i 9 6 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY of Lombardy, winning victories over the Austrians at Varese, Como and other places. In his ranks was his fellow-patriot Mazzini. The success of the French and Sardinians in Lombardy during this war stirred Italy to its centre. The grand duke of Tuscany fled to Aus- tria. The duchess of Parma sought refuge in Switzerland. The duke of Modena found shelter in the Austrian camp. Everywhere the brood of tyrants took to flight. Bologna threw off its allegiance to the pope, and proclaimed the king of Sardinia dictator. Several other towns in the states of the Church did the same. In the terms of the truce between Louis Napoleon and Francis Joseph the rulers of these realms were to resume their reigns if the people would permit. But the people would not permit, and they were all annexed to Sardinia, which country was greatly expanded as a result of the war. It will not suffice to give all the credit for these revolutionary move- ments to Mazzini, the organizer, Garibaldi, the soldier, and the ambitious monarchs of France and Sardinia. More important than king and emperor was the eminent statesman, Count Cavour, prime minister of Sardinia from 1852. It is to this able man that the honor of the unification of Italy most Count Cavour fully belongs, though he did not live to see it. He sent a the Brain of Sardinian army to the assistance of France and England in y the Crimea in 1855, and by this act gave his state a standing among the powers of Europe. He secured liberty of the press and favored toleration in religion and freedom of trade. He rebelled against the dominion of the papacy, and devoted his abilities to the liberation and unity of Italy, undismayed by the angry fulminations from the Vatican. The war of 1859 was his work, and he had the satisfaction of seeing Sardinia increased by the addition of Lombardy, Tuscany, Parma and Modena. A great step had been taken in the work to which he had devoted his life. The next step in the great work was taken by Garibaldi, who now struck at the powerful kingdom of Naples and Sicily in the south. It Garibaldi's in. seemed a difficult task. Francis II., the son and successor of vasion of the infamous " Kine Bomba," had a well-organized armv of 150,000 men. But his father's tyranny had filled the land with secret societies, and fortunately at this time the Swiss mercenaries were recalled home, leaving to Francis only his unsafe native troops. This was the critical interval which Mazzini and Garibaldi chose for their work. At the beginning of April, 1S60, the signal was given by separate insurrections in Messina and Palermo. These were easily suppressed by the troops in garrison ; but though both cities were declared in a state of GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 197 gave occasion for demonstrations by winch the revolutionary chiefs excited the public mind. On the 6th of May, Garibaldi started two steamers from Genoa with about a thousand Italian volunteers, and on the 11th landed near Marsala, on the west coast of Sicily. lie procd to the mountains, and near Salemi gathered round him the scattered bands of the free corps. By the 14th his army had increased to pooo men. lie now issued a proclamation, in which he took upon himself the dictatorship of Sicily, in the name of Victor Emmanuel, king of Italy. After waging various successful combats under the most difficult circumstances, Garibaldi advanced upon the capital, announcing his arrival by beacon-fires kindled at night. On the 27th he was in front of the Porta Termina of Palermo, and at once gave the signal for the attack. The people rose in mass, and assisted the operations of the besiegers by Ca P™ reo 1 & ' Palermo barricade-fighting in the streets. In a few hours half the town was in Garibaldi's hands. But now General I. an/a. whom the young king had dispatched with strong reinforcements to Sicily, furiously bom- barded the insurgent city, so that Palermo was reduced almost to a heap of ruins. At this juncture, by the intervention of an English admiral, an armistice oncluded, which led to the departure of the Neapolitan troops and war vessels and the surrender of the town to Garibaldi, who thus, with a band of 5,000 badly armed followers, had gained a signal advantage over a regular army of 25,000 men. This event had tremendous consequen for it showed the utter hollowness of the Neapolitan government, while Garibaldi's fame was everywhere spread abroad. The glowing fancy of the Italians beheld in him the national hero before whom every enemy would bite the dust. This idea seemed to extend even to the Neapolitan court itself, where all was doubt, confusion and dismay. The king hastily summoned a liberal ministry, and offered to restore the constitution of but the general verdict was, "too late," and his proclamation fell tlat on a pi ople who had no trust in Bourbon faith. The arrival of Garibaldi in Naples was enough to set in blaze all the combustible materials in that state. His appearance then- was not long delayed. Six weeks after the surrender of Taken Palermo he marched against Messina. On the 21st of July the fortress of Melazzo was 1, and a week afterwards all Messina except the citadel was given up. Europe was astounded at the remarkable; success of Garibaldi's handful of men. On the mainland his good fortune was still more astonishing. He had hardly landed — which he. did almost in the face of the Neapolitan fleet — than Reggio was surrendered ami its garrison withdrew. His progress ig8 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY through the south of the kingdom was like a triumphal procession. At the Flight of Francis enc ^ °^ August he was at Cosenza ; on the 5th of September 11. and Con» at Eboli, near Salerno. No resistance appeared. His very apes name seemed to work like magic on the population. The capital had been declared in a state of siege, and on September 6th the king took flight, retiring, with the 4,000 men still faithful to him, behind the Volturno. The next day Garibaldi, with a few followers, entered Naples, whose populace received him with frantic shouts of welcome. The remarkable achievements of Garibaldi filled all Italy with over- mastering excitement. He had declared that he would proclaim the kingdom of Italy from the heart of its capital city, and nothing less than this would content the people. The position of the pope had become serious. He refused to grant the reforms suggested by the *f th"^ French emperor, and threatened with excommunication any one who should meddle with the domain of the Church. Money was collected from faithful Catholics throughout the world, a summons was issued calling for recruits to the holy army of the pope, and the exiled French General Lamoriciere was given the chief command of the troops, composed of men who had flocked to Rome from many nations. It was hoped that the name of the celebrated French leader would have a favor- able influence on the troops of the French garrison of Rome. The settlement of the perilous situation seemed to rest with Louis Napoleon. If he had let Garibaldi have his way the latter would, no doubt, have quickly ended the temporal sovereignity of the pope and made Rome the capital of Italy. But Napoleon seems to have arranged with Cavour to leave the king of Sardinia free to take possession of Naples, Umbria and the other provinces, provided that Rome and the "patrimony of Si. Peter" were left intact. At the beginning of September two Sardinian army corps, under Fanti and Cialdini, marched to the borders of the states of the church. Lamor- iciere advanced against Cialdini with his motley troops, but uei in Naples" was quickly defeated, and on the following day was besieged in the fortess of Ancona. On the 29th he and the garrison surrendered as prisoners of war. On the 9th of October Victor Emmanuel arrived and took command. There was no longer a papal army to oppose him, and the march southward proceeded without a check. The object of the king in assuming the chief command was to com- plete the conquest of the kingdom of Naples, in conjunction with Garibaldi. For though Garibaldi had entered the capital in triumph, the progress on the line of the Volturno had been slow ; and the expectation that the J THE ZOUAVES CHARGING THE BARRICADES AT MENTANA Id 1867 Garibaldi made a final effort to take the city of Rome, it being one of the cherished objects of his life to make it the capita' of United Italy. He would have succeeded in capturing the famous city had not the French come to the aid of the papal troops. The allied forces were too strong, and he was defeated at Mentana. The itlu-tration shows the French Zouaves in a dashing bayo"et charge against the barricades of the revolutionists GA RIBALD/ AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 201 Neapolitan army would go over to the invaders in a mass had not been realized. The great majority of the troops remained faithful to the flag, so that Garibaldi, although his irregular bauds amounted to more than 25,000 men, could not hope to drive away King Francis, or to take the fortre of Capua and Gaeta, without the help ol Sardinia. Against the diplomatic statesman Cavour, who fostered no illusions, and saw the conditions of affairs in its true light, the simple, honest Garibaldi cherished 1 aver- sion. He could never forgive Cavour for having given up Nice, Garibaldi's native town, to the French. On the other hand, he felt at- tracted toward the king - , who in his opinion seemed to be the I 7. ba „ dl ie ds ° r His Conquests man raised up by Providence for the' liberation of Italy. Accordingly, when Victor Emmanuel entered Sessa, at the head of his army, Garibaldi was easily induced to place his dictatorial power in the hands of the king, to whom he left the completion of the work ol the union of Italy. After greeting Victor Emmanuel with the title of King of Italy, and giving the required resignation of his power, with the words, "Sire, I obey," he entered Naples, riding beside the king; and then, alter recom- mending his companions in arms to his majesty's special favor, he retired to his home on the island of Caprera, refusing to receive a reward, in any shape or form, for his services to tin state and its hi The progress of the Sardinian army compelled Francis to give up the line of the Volturno, and he eventually took refuge, with his best troops, in the fortress of Gaeta. On the maintenance of this fortress hung the fate of the kingdom of Naples. Its defence is the only bright point in the career of the- feeble Francis, whose cou rage was a n ture ° ... t 1 Ciaeta aroused by the heroic resolution ot his young wile, the Bava- rian Princess Mary. For three months the defence continued. Put no European power came 10 the aid of the king, disease appeared with scarcity of food and of munitions of war, and the garrison was at length forced to capitulate. The fall of Gaeta was practically the completion of the great work of the unification of Italy. < >nly Rome and Venice remained to be added to the united kingdom. On February 1S, 1861, Victor Emmanuel nbled at Turin the deputies of all the states that acknowl- victor rmman- edged his supremacy, and in their presence assumed the title uelMade ^i King of Italy, which he was the first to bear. In four Kingof Italy months afterwards Count Cavour, to whom this great work was largely due, died. He had lived long enough to see the purpose of his life practically accomplished. Great as had been the change which two years had made, the patrio of Italy were not satislied. " PYee from the Alps to the Adriatic !" was their 202 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY cry ; " Rome and Venice !" became the watchword of the revolutionists. Mazzini, who had sought to found a republic, was far from content, and the agitation went on. Garibaldi was drawn into it, and made bitter complaint of the treatment his followers had received. In 1862, disheartened at the inaction of the king, he determined to undertake against Rome an expedi- tion like that which he had led against Naples two years before. In June he sailed from Genoa and landed at Palermo, where he was Garibaldi's Ex- quickly joined hy an enthusiastic party of volunteers. They pedition supposed that the government secretly favored their design, Against Rome but tbe k - bad nQ jdea Q r fighting against the French troops in Rome and arousing international complications, and he energetic- ally warned all Italians against taking part in revolutionary enterprises. But Garibaldi persisted in his design. When his way was barred by the garrison of Messina he turned aside to Catania, where he embarked with 2,000 volunteers, declaring he would enter Rome as a victor, or perish beneath its walls. He landed at Melito on the 24th of August, and threw himself at once, with his followers, into the Calabrian mountains. But his enterprise was quickly and disastrously ended. General Cialdini despatched a division of the regular army, under Colonel Pallavicino, against the volun- teer bands. At Aspromonte, on the 28th of August, the two forces came into collision. A chance shot was followed by several volleys from the regulars. Garibaldi forbade his men to return the fire of their fellow- subjects of the Italian kingdom. He was wounded, and taken c"a rera ° prisoner with his followers, a few of whom had been slain in the short combat. A government steamer carried the wounded chief to Varignano, where he was held in a sort of honorable im- prisonment, and was compelled to undergo a tedious and painful operation for the healing of his wound. He had at least the consolation that all Europe looked with sympathy and interest upon the unfortunate hero ; and a general sense of relief was felt when, restored to health, he was set free, and allowed to return to his rocky island of Caprera. Victor Emmanuel was seeking to accomplish his end by safer means. The French garrison of Rome was the obstacle in his way, and this was finally removed through a treaty with Louis Napoleon in September, 1864, Florence the tne emperor agreeing to withdraw his troops during the succeed- Capitalof ing two years, in which the pope was to raise an army laro-e enough to defend his dominions. Florence was to replace Turin as the capital of Italy. This arrangement created such disturbances in Turin that the king was forced to leave that city hastily for lv's new capital. In December, 1866, the last of the French troops departed from Rome, in GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 203 despite of the efforts of the pope to retain them. By their withdrawal Italy was freed from the presence of foreign soldiers for the first time probably in a thousand years. In 1S66 came an event which reacted favorably for Italy, though her part in it was the reverse of triumphant. This was the war between Prussia and Austria. Italy was in alliance with Prussia, and Victor Emmanuel hastened to lead an army across the Mincio to lh "^ aro ' the invasion of Venetia, the last Austrian province in Italy. Garibaldi at the same time was to invade the Tyrol with his volunl The enterprise ended in disaster. The Austrian troops, under the Arch- duke Albert, encountered the Italians at Custozza and gained a brilliant victory, despite the much greater numbers of the Italians. Fortunately for Italy, the Austrians had been unsuccessful in the north, and the emperor, with the hope of gaining the alliance of France and breaking the compact between Italy and Prussia, decided to cede Venetia to Louis Napoleon, llis purpose failed. All Napoleon did in response was to act as a peacemaker, while the Italian king refused to recede from his alliance. Though the Austrians were retreating from a country which no longer belonged to them, the invasion of Venetia l>v the Italians continued, and several conflicts with the Austrian army took place. But much the most memorable event of this brief war occurred on the s.-a, in the most striking contest of ironclad ships between the American civil war and the Japan-China contest. Both countries concerned had fleets on the Adriatic. Italy was the strongest in naval vessels, possessing ten clads and a considerable number of wooden ships. Austri ironclad leet was seven in number, plated with thin iron and theAdriatic with no very heavy guns. In addition there was a numb of wooden vessels and gunboats. But in command of this fleet was an admiral in whose blood was the iron which was lacking on his ships, Teget- hoff, the Dewey of the Adriatic. Inferior as his ships were, his men were thoroughly drilled in the use; of the guns and the evolutions of the ships, and when he sailed it was with the one thought of victory. Persano, the Italian admiral, as if despising his adversary, engaged in siege of the fortified island of Lissa, near the Dalmatian coast, leaving the Austrians to do what they phased. What they pleased was to attack him with a fury such as has been rarely seen. Early on July 20, 1866, when the Italians were preparing for a combined assault of the island by land and sea, their movement was checked by the signal displayed on a scouting frigate: " Suspiciousdooking ships are in sight." Soon afterwards the Austrian fleet appeared, the ironclads leading, the wooden ships in the rear. 204 GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY The battle that followed has had no parallel before or since. The whole Austrian fleet was converted into rams. Tegethoff gave one final order to his captains: "Close with the enemy and ram everything grey." Grey was the color of the Italian ships. The Austrian were painted black, so as to prevent any danger of error. Fire was opened at two miles distance, the balls being wasted in the waters between the fleets, " Full steam ahead," signalled Tegethoff. On came the fleets, firing steadily, the balls now beginning to tell. " Ironclads will ram and sink the enemy," signalled Tegethoff. It was the last order he gave until the battle was won. Soon the two lines of ironclads closed amid thick clouds of smoke. Tegethoff, in his flagship, the Ferdinand Max, twiced rammed a grey iron- clad without effect. Then, out of the smoke, loomed up the tall masts of The sinking ^ e ^ e d? Italia, Persano's flagship in the beginning of the of the "Re fray. Against this vessel the Ferdinand Max rushed at full speed, and struck her fairly amidships. Her sides of iron were crushed in by the powerful blow, her tall masts toppled over, and down beneath the waves sank the great ship with her crew of 600 men. The next minute another Italian ship came rushing upon the Austrian, and was only avoided by a quick turn of the helm. One other great disaster occurred to the Italians. The Palestro was set on fire, and the pumps were put actively to work to drown the magazine. The crew thought the work had been successfully performed, The "Palestro" is Blown Up an d tnat they were getting the fire under control, when there sud- denly came a terrible burst of flame attended by a roar that drowned all the din of the battle. It was the death knell of 400 men, for the Palestro had blown up with all on board. The great ironclad turret ship and ram of the Italian fleet, the Affonda- tore, to which Admiral Persano had shifted his flag, far the most powerful vessel in the Adriatic, kept outside of the battle-line, and was of little ser- vice in the fray. It was apparently afraid to encounter Tegethoff's terrible rams. The battle ended with the Austrian fleet, wooden vessels and all, pass- ing practically unharmed through the Italian lines into the harbor of Lissa, leaving death and destruction in their rear. Tegethoff was the one Aus- trian who came out of that war with fame. Persano on his return home was put on trial for cowardice and incompetence. He was con- to Italy victed of the latter and dismissed from the navy in disgrace. But Italy, though defeated by land and sea, gained a valuable prize from the war, for Napoleon ceded Venetia to the Italian king, and soon afterwards Victor Emmanuel entered Venice in triumph. GARIBALDI AND THE UNIFICATION OF ITALY 205 the solemn act of hon ! in th< I St. Marks. Thus was completed I ond act in the unification of Italy. The national party, with Garibaldi at its head, still aimed at the posses- sion of Rome, as the historic capital ol the peninsula. In [867 he made a second attempt to rapture Rome, but the papal army, stret d with a a new French auxiliary force, defeated his badly armed volunteers, and he was taken prisoner for a time, after which he was sent back to Caprera. This led to the French army of occupation being returned to Civita Vecchia, where it was kept for several years. The final act came as a consequence of the Franco-German war of 1870, which rendered necessary the withdrawal of the French troops from Italy. The pope was requested to make a peaceful abdica- Rome Becomes tion. As he refused this, the States of the Church were occu- the Capital pied up to the walls of the capital, and a three hours' cannon- ° y ade of the citv sufficed to bring the long strife to an end. Rome became the capital of Italy, and the whole peninsula, for the first time since the fall of the ancient Roman empire, was concentrated into a single nation, under one king. CHAPTER XIV. Bismarck and the New Empire of Germany. WI [AT was for many centuries known as " Tin- I loly Roman Empire of the German Nation " was a portion of the great imperial do- main of Charlemagne, divided between his sons on his death in 814. It became an elective monarchy in 911, and from the reign of Otho the Great was confined to Germany, which assumed the title abi en. This great empire survived until 1804, when the imperial title, then held by Francis I. of Austria, was given up, and Francis styled him- The Empires of self Emperor of Austria. It is an interesting coincidence that Germany and tliis empire (eased to exist in the same year that Napoleon, rai who in a large measure restored the empire of Charlemagne, assumed the imperial crown oi France. The- restoration of the Empire of Germany, though not in its old form, was left to Prussia, after the final overthrow of the Napoleonic imperial dynasty in 1871. Prussia, originally an unimportant member of the German confedera- tion, rose to power as Austria declined, its progress upward being remark- ably rapid. Frederick William, the ''Great Elector" of Brandenburg, united the then minor province of Prussia to his dominions, and at his death in t688 left it a strong army and a large treasure. His son, xheRapid Frederick I., was the first to bear the title of King of Prussia. Qrowthof Frederick the Great, who became king in 1740, had under him rU! a series of disjointed provinces and a population of less than 2,500,000. His genius made Prussia a great power, which grew until, in 1805, it had a popu- lation of 9,640,000 and a territory of nearly 6.000 square miles. We have seen the part this kingdom played in the Napoleonic- wars. Dismembered by Napoleon and reduced to a mere fragment, it regained old importance by the Treaty of Vienna The great career of this kingdom began with the accession, in 1862, of King William I., and the appointment, in .the same year, of Count Otto von Bismarck as Minister of the King's House anil of Foreign Allah's. It was not Kiner William, but Count Bis- marck, who raised Prussia to the exalted position it has since assumed. Bismarck began his career by an effort to the old despotism, setting aside acts of the legislature with the boldness of an autocrat, and (207) 2o8 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY seeking to make the king supreme over the representatives of the people. R . He disdained the protest of the Chamber of Deputies in con- Despotic Acts eluding a secret treaty with Russia. He made laws and de and Warlike creed budget estimates without the concurrence of the Cham- Aorsrrcssion s bers. And while thus busily engaged at home in altercations with the Prussian Parliament, he was as actively occupied with foreign affairs. In 1864 Austria reluctantly took part with Prussia in the occupation of the duchy of Schleswig-Holstein, claimed by Denmark. A war with Den- mark followed, which ultimately resulted in the annexation to Prussia of the disputed territory. In this movement Bismarck was carrying out a pro- ject which he had long entertained, that of making Prussia the leading power in Germany. A. second step in this policy was taken in 1866, when the troops of Prussia occupied Hanover and Saxony. This act of aggression led to a war, in which Austria, alarmed at the ambitious movements of Prussia, came to the aid of the threatened states. Bismarck was quite ready. He had strengthened Prussia by an alliance with Italy, and launched the Prussian army against that of Austria with a rapidity that overthrew the power of the allies in a remarkably brief and most brilliant campaign. At the decisive battle of Sadowa fought July 3, 1866, King William commanded the Prussian army and Field-marshal Bene- dek the Austrian. But back of the Prussian king was General Von Moltke one of the most brilliant strategists of modern times, to whose skillful com- binations, and distinguished services in organizing the army of Prussia, that state owed its rapid series of successes in war. At Sadowa the newly-invented needle-gun played an effective part in bringing victory to the Prussian arms. The battle continued actively from 7.30 a.m. to 2.30 p.m., at which hour the Prussians carried the centre of the Austria Over= Austrian position. Yet, despite this, the advantage remained thrown at with the Austrians until 3.30, at which hour the Crown Prince Frederick drove their left flank from the village of Lipa. An hour more sufficed to complete the defeat of the Austrians, but it was 9 p.m.- before the fighting ceased. In addition to their losses on the field, 15,000 of the Austrians were made prisoners and their cause was lost beyond possi- bility of recovery. There seemed nothine to hinder Bismarck from overthrowing and dis- membering the Austrian empire, as Napoleon had done more than once, but there is reason to believe that the dread of France coming to the aid of the defeated realm made him stop short in his career of victory. Napoleon III. boasted to the French Chambers that he had stayed the conqueror at the np W r 1 j*^ "3^ *V V ^^ r'A. i ^BHbI^mI fez" '""''^jfr 1 « .; -". ' : BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 211 gates of Vienna However that be, a treaty oi peace w ied, in which Austria consented to withdraw from the German Confederation. Bismarck had gained one great point in his plans, in removing a formidable rival from his path. The way was cleared for making Prussia the supreme power in t Germany. The German allies of Austria suffered severely for their assist to that power. Saxony kept its king, but fell under Prussian control; and Hanover, Hess< ' '. Nassau, and the free city of Frankfurt-on-the-Main were absorbed by Prussia. The State-, ii| South Germany had taken part on the side of Austria in the war. and continued the struggle aft • ■ had been made between the main contestants. The result was the only one that could have I expected under the circumstances. Though the Bavarians and Wurtem- bergers showed great bravery in the several conflicts, the south German Prussians were steadily successful, and the South German states in the army was finally obliged to retire beyond the Main, while NNar Wiirzburg was captured by the Prussians. In thi 1 truce was effected which ultimately led to a treaty o( peace. Wurtemberg, Bavaria, and Baden were each required to pay a war indemnity, and a secret measure of the treaty was an offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia for common ac- tion in case of a foreign war. Mention was made in the last chapter of the long disunion of Italy, its division into a number of separate and frequently hostile slates from the fall of the Roman Empire until its final unification in 1X70. A similar con- dition had for ages existed in Germany. The so-called Ccr- man Empire of the mediaeval period was little more than a Germany league of separate states, each with its own monarch and dis- tinct government. And the authority of the emperor d d with time until it became but a shatlow. It vanished in 1 S04, leaving Germany com- posed of several hundred independent states, small and lar. Several efiorts were made in the succeeding years to restore the bond of union between these states. Under the infl ol Napoleon they were organized into South German and North German Confedi and the i of his interference with their internal affairs was such that thej came greatly reduced in number, many of the minor states being swallowed up by their more powerful neighbors. The sub 11 attempts at union proved weak ami ineffective. The Bund, or bond <>f connection between these states, formedafter the Napoleonic period, was of the most shadowy character, union its congress being destitute of power or authority. The National Assembly, convened at Frankfurt after the revolution of 1848, 212 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY with the Archduke John of Austria as administrator of the empire, proved equally powerless. It made a vigorous effort to enforce its author- ity, but without avail ; Prussia refused to be bound by its decisions ; and the attitude of opposition assumed by this powerful state soon brought the new attempt at union to an end. In 1886 the war between the two great powers of Germany, in which most of the smaller powers were concerned, led to more decided measures, in the absorption by Prussia of the states above named, the formation of a North German League among; the remaining' states of the north, and the offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia of the South German states. By the treaty of peace with Austria, that power was excluded from the Ger- man League, and Prussia remained the dominant power in Germany. A constitution for the League was adopted in 1867, providing for a Diet, or legislative council of the League, elected by the direct votes of the people, and an army, which was to be under the command of the Prussian king and subject to the military laws of Prussia. Each state in the League bound itself to supply a specified sum for the support of the army. Here was a union with a backbone — an army and a budget — and Bismarck had done more in the five years of his ministry in forming an united Germany than his predecessors had done in fifty years. Unrty * But the idea of union and alliance between kindred states was then widely in the air. Such a union had been practically completed in Italy, and Hungary in 1867 regained her ancient rights, which had been taken from her in 1849, being given a separate government, with Francis Joseph, the emperor of Austria, as its king. It was natural that the common blood of the Germans should lead them to a political confed- eration, and equally natural that Prussia, which so overshadowed the smaller states in strength, should be the leading element in the alliance. The great increase in the power and importance of Prussia, as an out- come of the war with Austria, was viewed with jealousy in Fiance. The Emperor Napoleon sought, by a secret treaty with Holland, to obtain possession of the state of Luxemburg, for which a sum of money was to be paid. This negotiation became known and was defeated by Bismarck, the King of Holland shrinking from the peril of war and the publicity of a disgraceful transaction. But the interference of Prussia with this underhand scheme added to the irritation of France. The Position And thus time passed on until the eventful year 1870. of Louis By that year Prussia had completed its work among the Napoleon North German states and was ready for the issue of hostilities, if this should be necessary. On the other hand, Napoleon, who had found BISMARCK AND Tin-: NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 213 his pi in France from various causes decreasing, felt obliged in [870 to deparl from his policy of personal rule and give that country a constitu- tional government. This proposal was submitted to a vote oi the people and sustained by an immense majority. I le also took occasion to state that "peace was never more assured than at the present tim This assura satisfaction to the world, ye) it was a false one, for war w. bably at that moment assured. alarming signs in France. The opposition to Napoleonism steadily gaining power. A had harvest was threatened— a serious source of discontent. The Parliament was discussing the reversal of the sentence of banishment against the Orleans family. These indications of a change in public sentiment appeared to call for some act that would aid in iring the popularity of the emperor. And of all the acts that could be 1 national war seemed the most promising. If the Rhine frontier, which every French regarded as the natural boundary of the empire, could he ri I liv the arms of the nation, discontent and opposition would vanish, the name of Napoleon would win hack its old prestige, and the reign of Bonapartism would he firmly established. Acts speak louder than words, anil the acts of Napoleon were not in accord with his assurances of peace. Extensive military preparations m, and the forces of the empire were strengthened by ■ , , , ., ii- Preparations land and sea, while great trust was placed in a new weapon, for Hostilities of murderous power-, called the mitrailleuse, the predecessor of the machine gun, and capable of discharging twenty-five halls at once ( In the other hand, there were abundant indications oi discontent in ( '.ermany, where a variety of parties inveighed against the rapacious polii Prussia, and where Bismarckhad sown a deep crop of hate. It was believed in France that the minor states would not support Prussia in a war. In Austria the defeat in [866 rankled, and hostilities against Prussia on the part of France seemed certain to win sympathy and support in that com- posite empire. Colonel Stoffel, the French military envoy at Berlin, declared that Prussia would he found abundantly prepared for a struggle : but his warnings went unheeded in the French Cabinet, and the warlike preparations continued. Napoleon did not have to go far tor an excuse tor the war upon which he was resolved. One was prepared for him in that potent . . . . , ... The ke\olution source of trouble, the succession to the throne ol Spam. In | n Spain that country there had for years been no end of trouble, revolts. Carlist risings, wars and rumors of wars. The government of < |ueen 11a, with its endless intrigues plots, and alternation of despotism 2i 4 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY and anarchy, and the pronounced immorality of the queen, had become so distasteful to the people that finally, after several years of revolts and armed risings, she was driven from her throne by a revolution, and for a time Spain was without a monarchy and ruled on republican principles. But this arrangement did not prove satisfactory. The party in opposition looked around for a king- and negotiations began with a distant relative of the Prussian royal family, Leopold of Hohenzollern. Prince Leopold ac-j cepted the offer, and informed the king of Prussia of his decision. The news of this event caused great excitement in Paris, and the Prus- sian government was advised of the painful feeling to which the incident had given rise. The answer from Berlin that the Prussian The Spanish . . . , 1 1 ^ n ■ Succession government had no concern in the matter, and that rnnce Leopold was free to act on his own account, did not allay the excitement. The demand for war grew violent and clamorous, the voices of the feeble opposition in the Chambers were drowned, and the journalists and war partisans were confident of a short and glorious campaign and a triumphant march to Berlin. The hostile feeling was reduced when King William of Prussia, though he declined to prohibit Prince Leopold from accepting the crown, expressed his concurrence with the decision of the prince when he withdrew his accept- ., , _ ance of the dangerous offer. This decision was regarded as Napoleon s De= _ ° a mand and sufficient, even in Paris ; but it did not seem to be so in the William's palace, where an excuse for a declaration of war was ardently Refusal desired. The emperor's hostile purpose was enhanced by the influence of the empress, and it was finally declared that the Prussian king had aggrieved France in permitting the prince to become a candidate for the throne without consulting the French Cabinet. Satisfaction for this shadowy source of offence was demanded, but King William firmly refused to say any more on the subject and declined to stand in the way of Prince Leopold if he should again accept the offer of the Spanish throne. This refusal was declared to be an offence to the honor and a threat to the safety of France. The war party was so strongly in the ascendant that all opposition was now looked upon as lack of The Declaration . . , rr , , L . . of War patriotism, and on the 15th of July the Prime Minister Olhvier announced that the reserves were to be called out and the neces- sary measures taken to secure the honor and security of France. When the declaration of war was hurled against Prussia the whole nation seemed in harmony with it, and public opinion appeared for once to have become a unit throughout France. BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 215 Rarely in the history of the world has so trivial a cause given rise to such stupendous military and political events as took place in France in a brief interval following this blind leap into hostilities. Instead of a tri- umphant march to Berlin and the dictation of peace from its palace, France was to find itself in two months' time without an emperor or an army, and in a few months more completely subdued and occupied by foreign tn while Paris had been made the scene of a terrible siege and a frightful 1 munistic riot, and a republic had succeeded the empire. It was such a series ol events as have seldom been compressed within the short interval of half a year. In truth Napoleon and his advisers were blinded by their hopes to the true st.ii fairs. 'The army on which they depended, and which they assumed t • > he in a high state <>f efficiency and discipline, was lacking in almost everj requisite "i" an l force. The first Napo- . h Icon was his own minister of war. The third Napoleon, when French and told by his war minister that "not a single button was want- Oerman ing on a single gaiter," took the words for the fact, and hurled an army without supplies and organization against the most thor- oughly organized army the world had ever known. That the French were as brave as the Germans joes without saying; they fought desperately, but from the first confus med in their movements, while military science of the highest kind dominated those of the Germans. N ipoleon was equally mistaken as to the state of affairs in Germany. The disunion upon which he counted vanished at the first threat of war. All Germany felt itself threatened and joined hands in defence. The declaration of war was received there with as deep an enthusiasm as in France and a fervent eagerness for the struggle. The new popular son-, Die Wacht am Rhein (" The Watch on the Rhine") spread rapidly from end to end of the country, and indicated the resolution of the German people to defend to the death the frontier stream of their country. The French looked for a parade march to Merlin, even fixing the day of their entrance into that city — August 15th, the emperor's birthday. On the contrary, they failed to set their foot on German territory, and soon found themselves engaged in a death truggle with the invaders of their own land. In truth, while the Prussian diplomacy was conducted by Bis- marck, the ablest statesman Prussia had ever known, the movements of the army were directed by far the best tactician Europe then possessed, the famous Von Moltke, to whose strategy the ' v ™nMoitke rapid success of the war against Austria had been due. In tlie war with France Von Moltke, though too old to lead the armies in per- 12 £io BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY son, was virtually commander-in-chief, and arranged those masterly combina- tions which overthrew all the power of France in so remarkably brief a period. Under his directions, from the moment war was declared, every- thing worked with clocklike precision. It was said that Von Moltke had only to touch a bell and all went forward. As it was, the Crown Prince Frederick fell upon the French while still unprepared, won the first battle, and steadily held the advantage to the end, the French being beaten by the strategy that kept the Germans in superior strength at all decisive points. But to return to the events of war. On July 23, 1870, the Emperor Napoleon, after making his wife Eugenie regent of France, set out with his son at the head of the army, full of high hopes of victory and triumph. By the end of July King William had also set out from Berlin to join the armies that were then in rapid motion towards the frontier. The emperor made his way to Metz, where was stationed his main army, about 200,000 strong, under Marshals Bazaine and Canrobert and General Bourbaki. Further east, under Marshal MacMahon, Strength of t ^ Q ]^ ero Q f Magenta, was the southern army, of about 100,000 the Armies & , V-i 1 -i men. A . third army occupied the camp at Chalons, while a well-manned fleet set sail for the Baltic, to blockade the harbors and assail the coast of Germany. The German army was likewise in three divisons, the first, of 61,000 men, under General Steinmetz ; the second, of 206,000 men, under Prince Frederick Charles; and the third, of 180,000 men, under the crown prince and General Blumenthal. The king, commander-in-chief of the whole, was in the centre, and with him the general staff under the guidance of the alert Von Moltke. Bismarck and the minister of war Von Roon were also present, and so rapid was the movement of these great forces that in two weeks after the order to march was given 300,000 armed Germans stood in rank alone the Rhine. The two armies first came together on August 2d, near Saarbrtick, on Battles of Saar- tne frontier line of the hostile kingdoms. It was the one briickand success of the French, for the Prussians, after a fight in which eissen urg both sides ] os t equally, retired in good order. This was proclaimed by the French papers as a brilliant victory, and filled the people with undue hope's of glory. It was the last favorable report, for they were quickly overwhelmed with tidings of defeat and disaster. Weissenburg, on the borders of Rhenish Bavaria, had been invested by a division of MacMahon's army. On August 4th the right wing of the army of the Crown Prince Frederick attacked and repulsed this investing force after a hot engagement, in which its leader^ General Douay, was killed, and the loss on both sides was heavy. Two days later occurred a BISMARCK AND THE NEW UMPIRE OF GERMANY 217 battle which decided the fate of the whole war, that of Worth-Reideshofen where the army of the crown prince met that of MacMahon, and after a desperate struggle, which continued for fifteen hours, completely defeated him, with very heavy losses on both sides. MacMahon retreated in haste towards the army at Chalons, while the crown prince took possession of Alsace, and prepared for the reduction of the fori 1 from Strasburg to Belfort. On the same day as that of the battle of Worth, General Steinmetz stormed the heights of Spicheren, and, though at great of life, drove Frossard from those heights and back, upon Met/. The occupation of Alsao was followed by that of Lorraine, by the Prussian army under King William, who took poss< ssion of Nancy and the country surrounding on August nth. These two provinces had formerly belonged to Germany, and it was the aim of the Prussians to occupation f retain them as the chief anticipated prize of the war. Mean- Alsace and while the world looked on in amazement at the extraordinary Lorra,n e rapidity of the German success, which, in two weeks after Napoleon left Paris, had brought 'tis power to the verge of overthrow. Towards the Moselle River and the strongly fortified town of Metz, 180 miles northeast of Paris, around which was concentrated the main French force, all the divisions of the German army now advanced, ami on the 1 4 tli of August they gained a victory at Colombey-Neuvilly which drove their opponents back from the open field towards the fortified city. It was Moltke's opinion that the French proposed to make their stand before this impregnable fortress, and fight there desperately for victory. Put, finding less resistance than he expected, he concluded, on the 1 5 tli, that Bazaine, in fear of being cooped up within at Metz the fortres , meant to march towards Verdun, there to join his forces with those of MacMahon and give battle to the Germans in the plain. The astute tacl ician at once determined to make every effort to prevent this concentration of his opponent ;, and by the evening of the 15th s cavalry division had crossed the Moselle and reached the village of Mars-la- Four, where it bivouacked for the night. It had seen troops in motion towards Met/, hut did not know whether these formed the rear-guard or the vanguard of tin- French army in its march tow. mis Verdun. In fact, Bazaine had not yet got away with his army. All the roads from Met/ were blocked with heavy baggage, and it was impossible to move so large an army with expedition. The time thus lost by Bazaine was diligently improved by Frederick Charles, and on the morning of the 16th the Brandenburg army corps, one of the best and bravest in tin- German arm)', had followed the cavalry and come within sight of the Verdun road. 2i8 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY Yi. was quickly perceived that a French force was before them, and some preliminary skirmishing- developed the enemy in such strength as to convince the leader of the corps that he had in his front the whole or the greater part of Bazaine's army, and that its escape from Metz had not been achieved. They were desperate odds with which the brave Brandenburgers had to contend, but they had been sent to hold the French until reinforcements could arrive, and they were determined to resist to the death. The Battle of ,-, ... , .... . Mars=la=Tour * H ° r nearly six hours they resisted, with unsurpassed courage, the fierce onslaughts of the French, though at a cost in life that perilously depleted the gallant corps. Then, about four o'clock in the afternoon, Prince Frederick Charles came up with reinforcements to their support and the desperate contest became more even. Gradually fortune decided in favor of the Germans, and by the time night had come they were practically victorious, the field of Marsda-Tour, after the day's struggle, remaining in their hands. But they were utterly exhausted, their horses were worn out, and most of their ammunition was spent, and though their impetuous commander forced them to French a new attack, it led to a useless loss of life, for their powers of fighting were gone. They had achieved their purpose, that of preventing the escape of Bazaine, though at a fearful loss, amount- ing to about 16,000 men on each side. " The battle of Vionville [Mars-la- Tour] is without a parallel in military history," said Emperor William, "see- ing that a single army corps, about 20,000 men strong, hung on to and re- pulsed an enemy more than five times as numerous and well equipped. Such was the glorious deed done by the Brandenburgers, and the Hohen- zollerns will never forget the debt they owe to their devotion." Two days afterwards (August 16th), at Gravelotte, a village somewhat nearer to Metz, the armies, somewhat recovered from the terrible struggle of the 14th, met again, the whole German army being now brought up, so that over 200,000 men faced the 140,000 of the French. It Oreat Victory ' of the Ger- was the great battle of the war. For four hours the two mansat^ armies stood fighting face to face, without any special result, neither beintr able to drive back the other. The French held their ground and died. The Prussians dashed upon them and died. Only late in the evening was the right wing of the French army broken, and the victory, which at five o'clock remained uncertain, was decided in favor of the Germans. More than 40,000 men lay dead and wounded upon the field, the terrible harvest of those nine hours of conflict. That night Bazaine with- drew his army behind the fortifications at Metz. His effort to join Mac- Mahon had ended in failure. H X n H H 3 2 z n 3 (A sS E P £. > « c I o ' in _ 0) =■ -I • O BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 221 It was the fixed purpose ol the Prussians to detain him in that strong- hold, and thus render practically useless to France its largest army. Asii was to be prosecuted, and an army of 1 50,000 men was extended 1 1 -i-i r ••• * • r The Sietfe around the town. I he lortincations were tar too strong to f Metz I-- taken by assault, and all depended on a close blockade. On August ;,ist Bazaine made an effort to break through the German lines, but was repulsed. It became now a question of how long the provisions of the French would hold out. The French emperor, who had been with Bazaine, had left his army before the battle of Mars-la-Tour, and was now with MacMahon at Chalons. Here lay an army of 125,000 infantry and 12,000 cavalry. On it the Ger- mans were advancing, in doubt as to what movement it would make, whether luck towards Paris or towards Metz for the relict of Bazaine. They sought to place themselves in a position to check< ither. The latter movement was determined on by the French, but was carried out in a dubious ,. , J _ MacMahon and uncertain manner, the time lost giving abundant opportu- Marches to nity to the Germans to learn what was afoot and to prepare to Relieve . , ,.,...,. Bazaine prevent it. As soon .is they were aware 01 MacMahons inten- tion of proceeding to Metz they made speedy preparations to prevent his re- lieving Bazaine. By the- last days of August the army of the crown prince had reached the right bank of the Aisne, and the fourth division gained possession of the line of the Maas. On August 30th the French under General de Failly were attacked by the Germans at Beaumont and put to flight with heavy loss. It was evident that the hope of reaching Metz was at an end, and MacMahon. abandoning the attempt, concentrated his army around the frontier fortress of Sedan. This old town stands on tin- right bank of the Meuse, in an angle of territory between Luxemburg and Belgium, ami is surrounded by meadows, gardens, ravines, ditches and cultivated helds ; the castle rising on a cliff- like eminence to the southwest ol tin- place. MacMahon , . , , ... - , The French had stopped here to give his weary men a rest, not to tight. surrounded but \\n\ Moltke decided, on observing the situation, that Sedan should be the grave-yard of the French army. "The trap is now closed, and the mouse in it," he said, with a chuckle of satisfaction. Such proved to be the case. < >u September rst the Bavarians won tl village of Bazeille, after hours ol bloody and desperate snuggle. I luring this severe tight Marshal MacMahon was so seriously wounded that he v. obliged to surrender the chief command, first to Ducrot, and then to Gen- eral Wimpffen, a man of recognized bravery and 1 old calculation. 222 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY Fortune soon showed itself in favor of the Germans. To the north- west of the town, the North German troops invested the exits from St. Meuges and Fleigneux, and directed a fearful fire of artillery against the French forces, which, before noon, were so hemmed in the valley that only two insufficient outlets to the south and north remained open. But Gen- eral Wimpffen hesitated to seize either of these routes, the * . a eo open way to Illy was soon closed by the Prussian guard corps, and a murderous fire was now directed from all sides upon the French, so that, after a last energetic struggle at Floing, they gave up all attempts to force a passage, and in the afternoon beat a retreat towards Sedan. In this small town the whole army of MacMahon was collected by evening, and there prevailed in the streets and houses an unprecedented disorder and confusion, which was still further increased when the German troops from the surrounding heights began to shoot clown upon the fortress, and the town took fire in several places. That an end might be put to the prevailing misery, Napoleon now commanded General Wimpffen to capitulate. The flag of truce already waved on the gates of Sedan when Colonel Bronsart appeared, and in the name of the king of Prussia demanded the surrender of the army and fortress. He soon returned to headquarters, accompanied by the French General Reille, who presented to the king a written message from Napo- leon : " As I may not die in the midst of my army, I lay my sword in the hands of your majesty." King William accepted it with an expression of sympathy for the hard fate of the emperor and of the French army which had fought so bravely under his own eyes. The conclusion of the treaty of capitulation was placed in the hands of Wimpffen, who, accompanied by General Castelnau, set out for Doncherry to negotiate with Moltke and Bismarck. No attempts, however, availed to move Moltke from his stipu- lation for the surrender of the whole army at discretion ; he granted a short respite, but if this expired without surrender, the bombardment of the town was to begin anew. At six o'clock in the morning the capitulation was signed, and was ratified by the king at his headquarters at Vendresse (2d September). Thus the world heheld the incredible spectacle of an army of 83,000 men sur- rendering themselves and their weapons to the victor, and being carried off as prisoners of war to Germany. Only the officers who gave their written word of honor to take no further part in the present war with Germany were permitted to retain their arms and personal property. Probably the assurance of Napoleon, that he had sought death on the battlefield but had not found it, was literally true ; at any rate, the fate of the unhappy man, BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY b< iwed down as he was both by ph) sical .\w\ mental suffering, was so solemn and tragic, that there was no mom for hypoi risy, and that he had exposed himself to personal danger was admitted on all sides. Ac- surrenderof companied by Count Bismarck, he stopped at a small and Napoleon and mean-looking laborer's inn on the road to Doncherry, where, H|S Army sitting down on a stone seat In ton- the door, with Count Bismarck, he declared that he had not desired the war, but had been driven to it through the force of public opinion ; and afterwards the two proceeded to the little tie of Bellevue, near Frenois, to join King William and the crown prince. A telegram to Queen Augusta thus describes the interview: " What an impressive moment was the meeting with Napoleon! lb- was cast down, but dignified in his bearing. I have granted him Wilhelmshohe, near Cassel, as his residence. Our meeting took place in a little castle ire the western glacis of Sedan." 'I"he locking up of Bazaine in Metz and the capture of MacMahon's army at Sedan were fatal events to France. The struggle continued for months, but it was a fight against hope. The subsequent events of the w consisted ol a double siege, that of Metz and that of Paris, with various minor sieges, and a desperate but hopeless effort of France in the field. As for the empire of Napoleon III., it was at an end. Idle tidings of the terrible catastrophe at Sedan filled the people with a fury that soon became revolutionary. While fules Favre, the republican deputy, was offering a motion in the Assembly that the emperor had forfeited the crown, and that a provisional government should be established, the people were thronging tin- streets ol l'aris with cries ol "Deposition! Republic!" D ev0 | Ut j on On the 4th <>f September the Assembly had its final meeting. ami the Third Two of its prominent members, Jules Favre and Gambetta, R e P u »» c sustained the motion for deposition of tin- emperor, and it was carried after a stormy session. They then made their way to the senate-chamber, where, before a thronging audience, they proclaimed a republic and named a government for the national defence. At its head was General Trochu, military commandant at l'aris. Favre was made minister ol foreign affairs ; Gambetta, minister of the interior; and other prominent members of the Assembly filled the remaining cabinet poNts. The iture was dis- solved, the Palais de Bourbon was closed, and the Empress Eugenie quitted the Tuileries and made her escape with a few attendants to Belgium, when she sought a refuge in England. Prince Louis Napoleon made his way to Italy, and the swarm of courtiers scattered in all directions; some faithful followers of the deposed monarch seeking the castle of Wilhelmshohe, where the unhappy Louis Napoleon beautiful 224 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY palace and park in which his uncle Jerome Bonaparte had once passed six years in a life of pleasure. The second French Empire was at an end ; the third French Republic had begun — one that had to pass through many changes and escape many dangers befoYe it would be firmly established. " Not a foot's breadth of our country nor a stone of our fortresses shall be surrendered," was Jules Favre's defiant proclamation to the invaders, and the remainder of the soldiers in the field were Defiance collected in Paris, and strengthened with all available rein- forcements. Every person capable of bearing arms was en- rolled in the national army, which soon numbered 400,000 men. There was need of haste, for the victors at Sedan were already marching upon the capital, inspired with high hopes from their previous astonishing success. They knew that Paris was strongly fortified, being encircled by powerful lines of defence, but they trusted that hunger would soon bring its garrison to terms. The same result was looked for at Metz, and at Strasburg, which was also besieged. Thus began at three main points and several minor ones a military siege the difficulties, dangers, and hardships of which surpassed even those of the winter campaign in the Crimea. Exposed at the fore-posts to the enemy's balls, chained to arduous labor in the trenches and redoubts, and suffering from the effects of bad weather, and insufficient food and clothing, the German soldiers were compelled to undergo great privations and sufferings before the fortifications ; while many fell in the frequent skirmishes and sallies, many succumbed to typhus and epidemic disease, and many returned home mutilated, or broken in health. No less painful and distressing was the condition of the besieged. While the garrison soldiers on guard were constantly compelled to face death in nocturnal sallies, or led a pitiable existence in damp huts, having inevitable surrender constantly before their eyes, and disarma- Hardships of ... / , r ,. . . , the Conflict ment and imprisonment as the reward of all their struggles and exertions, the citizens in the towns, the women and chil- dren, were in constant danger of being shivered to atoms by the fearful shells, or of being buried under falling walls and roofs ; and the poorer part of the population saw with dismay the gradual diminution of the necessa- ries of life, and were often compelled to pacify their hunger with the flesh of horses, and disgusting and unwholesome food. The republican government possessed only a usurped power, and none but a freely elected national assembly could decide as to the fate of the French nation. Such an assembly was therefore summoned for the 1 6th of October. Three members of the orovernment — Cremieux, Fou- BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 225 richon, and Glais-Vizoin— wen ' itched before the entire blockad the town had been 1 '['ours, to maintain communication with the provinces. An attempt was also made at the same time to induce the great powerswhich had not taken part in the war to organize an intervention, as hitherto only America. Switzerland, and Spain had sent official T , . . . ill- • • 1 11 Thiers and recognition. I'm this important and delicate mission the old Bismarck statesman and historian Thiers was selected, and. in spite of his three-and-seventy years, immediately set out on the journey to London, St. Petersburg, Vienna, and Florence. Count Bismarck, however, in the name of Prussia, refused any int in in internal affairs. In two despatches to the ambassadors of foreign courts, the chancellor declared that the war, begun by the Emperor Napoleon, had been approved by the representatives of the nation, anil that thus all France was answerable for the result. Ger- main - was obliged, therefore, to demand guarantees which si -cure her in future against attack, or, at any rate, render attack more difficult. Thus a cession of territory on the part of France was laid down as the basis of a treaty of peace. The neutral powers were also led to the belief that if they fostered in the French any hope of intervention, peace would only be delayed. The mis- sion of Thiers, therefore, yielded no useful result, while the direct negotiation which Jules Favre conducted with Bismarck proved equally unavailing. Soon the beleaguered fortresses began to fall. On the 23d of Septem- ber the ancient town of Toul, in Lorraine, was forced to capitulate, after a fearful bombardment ; and on the 27th Strasburg, in danger of the terrible results of a storming, after the havoc of a dreadful artillery fire, hoisted the white; flag, and surrendered on the following day. The supposed impregnable fortress of Metz held out little longer. Hunger did what cannon were incapable of doing. The successive sallies made by Bazaine proved unavailing, though, on October 7th, his soldiers fought with des- perate energy, and for hours the air was full of the roar of cannon and mitrailleuse and the rattle of musketry. But the Germans withstood the attack unmoved, and the French were forced to withdraw into the town. Bazaine then sought to negotiate with the German leaders at Versailles, offering to take no part in the war for three months if permitted to with- draw, luii Bismarck and Moltke would listen to no terms siegeand sur- other than unconditional surrender, ami these terms were renderof finally accepted, the besieged army having readied the brink Metz of starvation. It was with horror and despair that France learned, on the 30th of October, that the citadel of Met/, with its fortifications and arms <<\ defence, had been yielded to the Germans, and its army of more than 150,000 men had surrendered as prisoners of war. 226 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OP GERMANY This hasty surrender at Metz, a still greater disaster to France than that of Sedan, was not emulated at Paris, which for four months held out against all the efforts of the Germans. On the investment of the great city, King William removed his headquarters to the historic palace of Versailles, setting up his homely camp-bed in the same apartments from at Versailles which Louis XIV. had once issued his despotic edicts and commands. Here Count Bismarck conducted his diplomatic labors and Moltke issued his directions for the siege, which, protracted from week to week and month to month, gradually transformed the beautiful neighborhood, with its prosperous villages,, superb country houses, and enchanting parks and gardens, into a scene of sadness and desolation. In spite of the vigorous efforts made by the commander-in-chief Trochu, both by continuous firing from the forts and by repeated sallies, to prevent Paris from being surrounded, and to force a way through the trenches, his enterprises were rendered fruitless by the watchfulness and strength of the Germans. The blockade was completely accomplished ; Paris was surrounded and cut off from the outer world ; even the under- ground telegraphs, through which communication was for a time secretly maintained with the provinces, were by degrees discovered and destroyed. But to the great astonishment of Europe, which looked on with keenly pitched excitement at the mighty struggle, the siege continued for months without anv special progress being- observable from without The Siege of ■ i ' r • r ■ , • r\ r p aris or any lessening of resistance trom within. On account ot the extension of the forts, the Germans were compelled to remain at such a distance that a bombardment of the town at first appeared impossible ; a storming of the outer works would, moreover, be attended with such sacrifices, that the humane temper of the king revolted from such a proceeding. The guns of greater force and carrying power which were needed from Germany, could only be procured after long delay on account of the broken lines of railway. Probably also there was some hesitation on the German side to expose the beautiful city, regarded by so many as the " metropolis of civilization," to the risk of a bombardment, in which works of art, science, and a historical past would meet destruction. Never- theless, the declamations of the French at the Vandalism of the northern barbarians met with assent and sympathy from most of the foreign powers. Determination and courage falsified the calculations at Versailles of a quick cessation of the resistance. The republic offered a far more energetic and determined opposition to the Prussian arms than the empire had done. The government of the national defence still declaimed with stern reitera- tion : " Not a foot's breadth of our country ; not a stone of our fortresses!" BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY and positivelj rejected all proposals <>f treaty based on territorial sions. Faith in the invincibility of the republic was rooted as an indisp ble dogma in the hearts of the French people. The victories and the com- :ition of France from 1792 to 1799 arded as so entirely the necessary result of the Revolution, that a conviction prevailed that the formation of a republic, with a national army for its defence, would ha\ ial effect on the rest of Europe. Therefore, instead of summoning a tituent Assembly, which, in the opinion of Prussia and .... 111 1 , 1 r Th*-' Energy of other foreign powers, would alom t ottering Resistance security for a lasting peace, it was o continue the revolutionary movements, and to follow the same which, in the years 1792 and 1793, had saved France from . the European powers — a revolutionary di< tatorship such as had once been exercised by I vention ami the members of tin; Committee of Public Safety, must again ■. ived, and a youthful and hot-blooded lea ler \\ . needed to stir Up popular feeling and set it in motion. To fill such a pail no one was ter adapted than the advocate Gambetta, who emulated the career ol the leaders of the Revolution, and whose soul glowed with a passionate ardor of patriotism. In order to create for himself a free sphered action, and to initiate some vigorous measure in place of the well-rounded phrases and eloquent proclamations of hi s Trochu and Jules Favre, he quitted the capital in an air-balloon and entered into communication with the Gov- ernment delegation at Tours, which through him soon ol la fresh im- llis next most important task was the liberation of tin: capital from the besieging German army, and the expulsion of the enemy from the " sacred " soil of France. lor this purpose he summoned, ... , , , .. 1 1 r (iambettaand with the authority 01 a minister ot war, all persons capable oi His Work ring arms up to forty years of age to and despatched them into the field; he imposed war md terrified the tardy and refractory with threats of punishment. Every force was put in motion ; all France was transformed inl eat camp. A popular war was now to take the place of a soldiers' war, and what the soldiers had failed to must be accomplished by the people ; France must be saved, and the world freed from despotism. To promote this object, tin: whole ol France, with the exception of Paris, was divided into four nments, the headquarters of the difl rent governoi Lille, Le Man., Bourges, and i. neon. Two armies, from the Poire and from the Somme, wen march simultaneously towards Pari., and, aided by the sallies of Troche his troops, were to drivi :nemy from the country. Energetic attacks were now attempted from time to time, in the hope that when the arum 228 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY relief arrived from the provinces, it might be possible to effect a coalition ; but all these efforts were constantly repulsed after a hot struggle by the be- sieging German troops. At the same time, during the month of October, the territory between the Oise and the Lower Seine was scoured by recon- noitering troops, under Prince Albrecht, the south-east district was protected by a Wiirtemberg detachment through the successful battle near Nogent on the Seine, while a division of the third army advanced towards the south The Southward accompanied by two cavalry divisions. A more unfortunate Advance of circumstance, however, for the Parisians was the cutting off of the Germans a jj comm unication with the outer world, for the Germans had destroyed the telegraphs. But even this obstacle was overcome by the in- ventive genius of the French. By means of pigeon letter-carriers and air- balloons, they were always able to maintain a partial though one-sided and imperfect communication with the provinces, and the aerostatic art was de- veloped and brought to perfection on this occasion in a manner which had never before been considered possible. The whole of France, and especially the capital, was already in a state of intense excitement when the news of the capitulation of Metz came to Qambetta's a dd fresh fuel to the flame. Outside the walls Gambetta was Army of using heroic efforts to increase his forces, bringing Bedouin horsemen from Africa and inducing the stern old revolutionist Garibaldi to come to his aid ; and Thiers was opening fresh negotiations for a truce. Inside the walls the Red Republic raised the banners of insurrec- tion and attempted to drive the government of national defence from power. This effort of the drees of revolution to inaugurate a reign of terror failed, and the provisional government felt so elated with its victory that it determined to continue at the head of affairs and to oppose the calling of a chamber of national representatives. The members proclaimed oblivion for what had passed, broke off the negotiations for a truce begun by Thiers, The Negotia- an( ^ demanded a vote of confidence. The indomitable spirit tions Are shown by the French people did not, on the other hand, in- spire the Germans with a very lenient or conciliatory temper. Bismarck declared in a despatch the reasons why the negotiations had failed: "The incredible demand that we should surrender the fruits of all our efforts during- the last two months, and should go back to the conditions which existed at the. beginning of the blockade of Paris, only affords fresh proof that in Paris pretexts are sought for refusing the nation the right of election." Thiers mournfully declared the failure of his undertaking, but in Paris the popular voting resulted in a ten-fold majority in favor of the gov- ernment and the policy of postponement. V KIN'. OSl IR II. OF SWEDEN AND NORWAY. KING i HRIS1 IAN l\ "I I'l NMARK. i Ml I R< iK I RANI IS JOS1 AUSTRIA KING in M HER 1 >>1 II AIA. LEI >.\ GAMBETTA ^MjPf FN FERDINAND DeLESSEPS PRESIDENT LUUBET BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMAN After the breaking off of thi tiations, the world anticipated some energetic action towards the be I rts of the enemy w< n . however, principally directd drawing the iron girdle still tighter, en- losing the giant city more and mo ely, and cutting off every means j( communication, so that at List a surrender might 1»- brought about by tern necessity of starvation. That thi. object would not be accom- plished as speedily as at Metz, that the city ol pleasure, enjoyment, and luxury would withstand a - f four months, had m-vor been contem- plated for a moment. It is true th time went on, all fresh meat disap- d from the market, with th ption of horse-flesh ; that white bread, mi which Parisians place such value, was replaced l>y a baked compound of meal and bran ; that the stores of dried and salted food began to decline, until at last rats, dog and even animals from the zoological gardens were prepared for consumption at restaurants. Yet, to the F am i ne and amazement of the world, all these miseries, hardships, and Misery in sufferings wen- courageously borne, nocturnal watch was kept, ar s sallies were undertaken, and cold, hunger, and wretchedness of all kinds were endured with an indomitable steadfastness and heroism. The com of the besieged Parisians was also animated by the hope that the military forces in the provinces would hasten to the aid of the hard-pressed capital, and that therefore an energetic resist.! mid afford the rest of France sufficient time for rallying all its forces, and at the same time exhibit an ele- vating example. In the carrying out of this [dan, neither Trochu nor Gam- was wanting in the requisite energy ami circumspection. The former organized sallies from time to time, in order to reconnoitre and discover whether tlu- armvof relief was on its way from the provinces; the latter exerted all his powers to bring the Loire army up to the Seine. But both erred in undervaluing the German war forces; they did not believe that the hostile army would be able to keep Paris in .1 state ol Mo. kade, and at the same time engage the armies on the south and north, east and west. They had no conception of the hidden, inexhaustible strength of the I'm army organization — of a nation in arms which could send forth constant re- inforcements of battalions and recruits, and fresh bodies of disciplined troops to till the gaps left in the ranks by the wounded and fallen. There could be no doubt as to the termination of this terrible war, or the final victoi German energy and discipline. Throughout the last months of the eventful year 1870, the northern part of France, from the Jura to the Channel, from tin- Belgian frontier to the Loire, presented the aspect of a wide battlefield. Of the troops that hail been set free by the capitulation of Metz, a part remained behind in 2 3 2 B/SMARCk' AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY garrison, another division marched northwards in order to invest the pro- vinces of Picardy and Normandy, to restore communication with the sea, and to bar the road to Paris, and a third division joined the second army, whose commander-in-chief, Prince Frederick Charles, set up his head- quarters at Troyes. Different detachments were despatched against the northern fortresses, and by degrees Soissons, Verdun, Thionville, The Fall of the pr am wn ere Napoleon had once been a prisoner, Pfalzbure and Fortresses ' . Montmedy, all fell into the hands of the Prussians, thus open- ing to them a free road for the supplies of provisions. The garrison troops were all carried off as prisoners to Germany ; the towns — most of them in a miserable condition — fell into the enemy's hands ; many houses were mere heaps of ruins and ashes, and the larger part of the inhabitants were suffer- ing severely from poverty, hunger and disease. The greatest obstacles were encountered in the northern part of Alsace and the mountainous districts of the Vosges and the Jura, where irregular warfare, under Garibaldi and other leaders, developed to a dangerous Guerilla War= extent, while the fortress of Langres afforded a safe retreat to fareinthe the guerilla bands. Lyons and the neighboring town of St. Etienne became hotbeds of excitement, the red flag being raised and a despotism of terror and violence established. Although many divergent elements made up this army of the east, all were united in hatred of the Germans and the desire to drive the enemy back across the Rhine. Thus, during the cold clays of November and December, when General Von Treskow began the siege of the important fortress of Belfort, there burst forth a war around Gray and Dijon marked by the greatest hardships, perils and privations to the invaders. Here the Germans had to contend with an enemy much superior in number, and to defend themselves against continuous firing from houses, cellars, woods and thickets, while the im- poverished soil yielded a miserable subsistence, and the broken railroads cut off freedom of communication and of reinforcement. The whole of the Jura district, intersected by hilly roads as far as the plateau of Langres, where, in the days of Caesar, the Romans and Gauls were wont to measure their strength with each other, formed during November and December the scene of action of numerous encounters which, in conjunction with sallies from the garrison at Belfort, inflicted severe injury on Werder's troops. Dijon had repeatedly to be evacuated ; and the nocturnal attack at Chattillon, 20th November, by District Garibaldians, when one hundred and twenty Landwehrmen and Hussars perished miserably, and seventy horses were lost, affording a striking proof of the dangers to which the German army was BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE < MANY 233 exposed in this hostile country ; although the revolutionary excesses of the turbulent population oi oith diverted to ,1 certain extent the attention of the National Guard, who were compelled to turn their weapons against an internal enemy. By means of the revolutionary dictatorship of Gambetta the whole French nation was drawn into the struggle, the annihilation of the enemy being repn sented as a national duty, and the war assuming a steadily more \ioleiit character. The indefatigable patriot continued his exertions to ase the army and unite the whole south and west against Qambetta and the enemy, hoping to bring the army of the Loire to such the Army dimensions that it would be able to expel the invaders from ° 4 e *° re >il of France. But these raw recruits were poorly fitted to cope with the highly disciplined Germans, and their early sua -on followed by defeat and discouragement, while the hopes entertained by the Paris garrison of succor from ith vanished as news oi the steady progre the ( rermans were received. During these events the war operations before Paris continued un- ruptedly. Moltke had succeeded, in spite of the difficulties of 1 port, in procuring an immense quantity of ammunition, and the long-del; bombardment of Paris was ready to begin. Having stationed with all secrecy twelve batteries with seventy-six guns around Mont Avron, on Christmas-day the firing was directed with such succe nst the forti- fied emin n in the second night the French, alter great lo evacuated the important position, the "key of Paris," which was immedi- ately taken possession <<{ by the Saxons. I rror and dismay spread throughout the distracted city when the eastern foi ny, ent and Noisy, were stormed amid a tremendous volley e " m " r ', & merit ol Paris o! firing. Vainly did Trochu endeavor to rouse the failing courage o I the National Guard; vainly did he assert that the government of the national defence would never consent to the humiliation of a capitu- lation ; his own authority had already waned; the newspapers already accused him of incapacity and treachery, and began to cast every aspersion on the' men wh<> had presumptuously 1 he government, and yet were not in a position to effect the defence .■( the capital and the country. After the new year the bombardment ol the southern forts began, and the terror in the city daily increased, though the violence ol the radical journals kept in check any hint ol surrender or negotiation. Vet in spite of fog and snow-storms the bombardment was systematically continued, ami with every day the destructive effect oi the terrible missiles grew irore pronounced. 234 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OE GERMANY Trochu was blamed for having undertaken only small sallies, which could have no result. The commander-in-chief ventured no opposition to the party of action. With the consent of the mayors of the twenty arron- dissements of Paris a council of war was held. The threatening famine, the firing of the enemy, and the excitement prevailing among the adherents of the red republic rendered a decisive step necessary. Consequently, on the 19th of January, a great sally was decided on, and the entire armed forces of the capital were summoned to arms. Early in the morning, a body of 100,000 men marched in the direction of Meudon, Sevres and St. Cloud for the decisive conflict. The left wing was commanded by General Vinoy, the right by Ducrot, while Trochu from the watch-tower directed the entire The Last Great struggle. With great courage Vinoy clashed forward with his Sally from column of attack towards the fifth army corps of General Kirchbach, and succeeded in capturing the Montretout en- trenchment, through the superior number of his troopSj and in holding it for a time. But when Ducrot, delayed by the barricades in the streets, failed to come to his assistance at the appointed time, the attack was driven back after seven hours' fierce fighting by the besieging troops. Having lost 7,000 dead and wounded, the French in the evening beat a retreat, which almost resembled a flight. On the following day Trochu demanded a truce, that the fallen National Guards, whose bodies strewed the battle- field, might be interred. The victors, too, had to render the last, rites to many a brave soldier. Thirty-nine officers and six hundred and sixteen soldiers were given in the list of the slain. Entire confidence had been placed by the Parisians in the great sally. When the defeat, therefore, became known in its full significance, when the number of the fallen was found to be far greater even than had been stated in the first accounts, a dull despair took possession of the famished city, which next broke forth into violent abuse against Trochu, " the traitor." Capitulation now seemed imminent ; but as the commander-in-chief had declared that he would never countenance such a disgrace, he resigned his post to Vinoy. Threatened by bombardment from without, terrified within by the pale spectre of famine, paralysed and distracted by the violent dis- sensions among the people, and without prospect of effective aid from the provinces, what remained to the proud capital but to desist Pari from a conflict the continuation of which only increased the unspeakable misery, without the smallest hope of deliverance ? Gradually, therefore, there grew up a resolution to enter into negotiations with the enemy; and it was the minister Jules Favre, who had been fore- most with the cry of "no surrender" four months before, who was now com- BISMARCK AMD THE NEW EMPIR* GERMANY 235 1 to take the first step to deliver his country from complete ruin. It probablj the bitterest hour in the life of the brave man, who loved France and liberty with such a sincere affection, when he was conducted through the German outposts to his interview with Bismarck a( Versailles. He brought the proposal for a convention, on the strength of which the garrison was to be permitted to retire with military honors to a pari of France not hitherto invested, on promising to abstain for several months from taking part in the struggle. But such conditions were positively ed at the Prussian headquarters, and a surrender was demanded as at Sedan and Metz. Completely defeated, the minister returned to Paris. .V a second meeting on the following day, it was agreed that from the 2 7th, at twelve o'clock at night, the firing on both sides should be discontinued. This was the preliminary to the conclusion of a three weeks' truce, to await the summons of a National Assembly, with which peace might be negotiated. The war was at an end so far as Paris was concerned. But it continued in the south, where frequent defeat failed to depress Gambetta's indomitable energy, and where new troops constantly replaced those put to rout. Gari- baldi, at Dijon, succeeded in doing what the French had not done during the war, in the capture of a Prussian banner. But the progress of the Germans soon rendered his position untenable, and, finding his exertions unavailing, he resigned his command and retired to his island &' o Bourbaki s ipnra. Two disasters completed the overthrow of France. Army and Bourbaki's army, S>,ooo strong, became shut in, with scanty theSlegeof . . Belfort food and ammunition, among the snow-covered valleys of the Jura, and to save the disgrace of capitulation it took refuge on the neutral soil of Switzerland; and the strong fortress of Belfort, which had been defended with the utmost coura rinst its besiegers, finally yielded, with the stipulation that the brave garrison should march out with the honors of war. Nothing now stood in the way of an extension of the truce. On the suggestion of fules Favre, the National Assembly elected a commission of fifteen members, which was to aid the chief of the executive, and his min- ister-,. Picard and Favre, in the negotiations for peace. That cessions of territory and indemnity of war expenses would have to be conceded had long been acknowledged in principle; but protracted and excited discussions took place as to the extent of the former and the amount of Tne Harsh the latter, while the demanded entry of the German troops Terms of into Paris met with vehement opposition. But Count Bis- marck resolutely insisted on the cession of Alsace and German Lorraine, including Metz and Diedenhofen Only with difficulty were the Germans 13 236 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY persuaded to separate Belfort from the rest of Lorraine, and leave it still in the possession of the French. In respect to the expenses of the war, the sum of five milliards of francs ($1,000,000,000) was agreed upon, of which the first milliard was to be paid in the year 1871, and the rest in a stated period. The stipulated entry into Paris also — so bitter to the French national pride — was only partially carried out ; the western side only of the city was to be traversed in the march of the Prussian troops, and again evacuated in two days. On the basis of these conditions, the preliminaries of the Peace of Versailles were concluded on the 26th of February between the Imperial Chancellor and Jules Favre. Intense excitement prevailed when the terms of the treaty became known ; they were dark days in the annals of French history. But in spite of the opposition of the extreme Republican party, led by Quinet and Victor Hugo, the Assembly recognized by an overpowering majority the necessity for the Peace, and the preliminaries were accepted by 546 to 107 votes. Thus ended the mighty war between France and Ger- many — a war which has had few equals in the history of the world. Had King William received no indemnity in cash or territory from France, he must still have felt himself amply repaid for the cost of the brief but sanguinary war, for it brought him a power and prestige with which the astute diplomatist Bismarck had long been seeking to invest his name. Political changes move slowly in times of peace, rapidly in times of war. The whole of Germany, with the exception of Austria, had sent troops to the conquest of France, and every state, north and south alike, shared in the pride and glory of the result. South and North Germany Germany had marched side by side to the battlefield, every difference of race or creed forgotten, and the honor of the German fatherland the sole watchword. The time seemed to have arrived to close the breach between north and south, and obliterate the line of the Main, which had divided the two sections. North Germany was united under the leadership of Prussia, and the honor in which all alike shared now brought South Germany into line for a similar union. The first appeal in this direction came from Baden. Later in the year plenipotentiaries sought Versailles from the kingdoms of Bavaria and Wiir- temberg and the grand duchies of Baden and Hesse, their purpose being to arrange for and define the conditions of union between the South and the North German states. For weeks this momentous question filled all Ger- many with excitement and public opinion was in a state of high tension. The scheme of union was by no means universally approved, there being a large party in opposition, but the majority in its favor in Chambers proved sufficient to enable Bismarck to carry out his plan. BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY 23; This was no less than to restore the German Empire, or rather to estab- lish a new empire oi Germany, in which Austria, long at the Restoration of head oi the former empire, should have no part, the imperial the German dignity being conferred upon the venerable King William of Em P' re Prussia, a monarch whose birth dated back to the eighteenth century, and who had lived throughout the Napoleonic wars. Near the close of 1S70 Bismarck concluded treaties with the ambassa- dors of the Southern States, in which they agreed to accept the constitution of the North German Union. These treaties were ratified, after some op- position from the "patriots" of the lower house, by the legislatures of the four states involved. The next step in the proceeding was a suggestion from the king of Bavaria to the other princes that the imperial crown of Germany should he offered to King William of Prussia. When the North German Diet at Berlin had given its consent to the new constitution, congratulatory address was despatched to the Pruss- ian monarch at Versailles. Thirty members of the Diet, with the president Simson at their head, announced t<> tin- aged hero-kin-' the nation's wish that he should accept the new dignity, lie replied to the deputation in sol- emn audience that In- accepted tin- imp* rial dignity which the German nation and its princes had offered him. On the 1st of January, 1N71, the new con- stitution was to come into operation. The solemn assumption of the im- perial office did not take place, however, until the iSthot fanuary, the day on which, one hundred and seventy years before, the new em- The Crowning peror's ancestor, Frederick I., had placed the Prussian crown of William 1. on his head at Konigsberg, and thus laid the basis of the at ersa e * growing greatness of his house. It was an ever-memorable coincidence, that in the superb-mirrored hall of the Versailles palace, where, since the days of Richelieu, so many plans had been concerted for the humiliation of Ger- many, King William should now proclaim himself German Emperor. After the reading of the imperial proclamation to the German people by Count Bismarck, the Grand Duke led a cheer, in which the whole assembly joined .miid the sin national hymns. Thus the important event had taken place which again summoned the German Empire to life, and made over the imperial i rown with renewed splendor to another .royal house. Barbarossa's old legend, that the dominion of the empire was, after Ion-- tribulation, to pass from the Hohenstaufen to the Hohenzollern, was now fulfilled ; the dream Ion- aspired after by German youth had now become a reality and a living fact. The tidings of the conclusion of peace with France, whose prelimi- naries were completed at Frankfurt on the 10th of May, 187 1, filled all Ger- 238 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY many with joy, and peace festivals on the most splendid scale extended from end to end of the new empire, in all parts of which an earnest spirit of patriotism was shown, while Germans from all regions of the world sent home expressions of warm sympathy with the new national organization of their fatherland. The decade just completed had been one of remarkable political changes in Europe, unsurpassed in significance during any other period of A Decade of equal length. The temporal dominion of the pope had van- Remarkable ished and all Italy had been united under the rule of a single king. The empire of France had been overthrown and a republic established in its place, while that country had sunk greatly in prominence among the European states. Austria had been utterly defeated in war, had lost its last hold on Italy and its position of influence among the German states. And all the remaining German lands had united into a great and powerful empire, of such extraordinary military strength that the surrounding nations looked on in doubt, full of vague fears of trouble from this new and potent power introduced into their midst. Bismarck, however, showed an earnest desire to maintain international peace and good relations, seeking to win the confidence of foreign govern- ments, while at the same time improving and increasing that military force which had been proved to be so mighty an engine of war. In the constitution of the new empire two legislative bodies were pro- vided for, the Bundesrath or Federal Council, whose members are annually appointed by the respective state governments, and the Reichs- of the'Empire ^ a S or Representative body, whose members are elected by universal suffrage for a period of three years, an annual ses- sion being required. Germany, therefore, in its present organization, is practically a federal union of states, each with its own powers of internal government, and with a common legislature approximating to our Senate and House of Representatives. The remaining incidents of Bismarck's remarkable career may be briefly given. It consisted largely in a struggle with the Catholic Church organization, which had attained to great power in Germany, and was aggressive to an extent that roused the vigorous opposition of the chan- „, ,. . cellor of the empire, who was not willing to acknowledge anv The Power of . r ° a j the Catholic power in Germany other than that of the emperor. Church in King Frederick William IV., the predecessor of the reigning Prussia monarch, had made active efforts to strengthen the Catholic Church in Prussia, its clergy gaining greater privileges in that Protestant state than they possessed in any of the Catholic states. They had estab- BISMARCK AND TUP. NEW EMPIRE OF GERMAN} 239 Hshed everywhere in North Germany their congregations and monasti and, by their control of public education, seemed in a fairway to eventually make Catholicism supreme in the empire. This state of affairs Bismarck set himself en< illy to reform. The minister of religious affairs was forced to resign, and his place was 1 by balk, a sagacious statesman, who introduced a new school law, bringing the whole educational system under state control, and carefully regulating the power of the clergy over religious and moral education. This law met with such violenl opposition that all the personal influence of TheNewLaws Bismarck and Falk were needed to carry it, and it gave such Against deep offence to the pope that he refused ton nan ambassador. He declared the Falk law invalid, and the German bishops united in a declaration against the chancellor. Bismarck retorted by a law expelling the Jesuits from the empire. In 1 S 7 3 the state of affairs became so embittered that the rights and liberties of the citizens seemed to need protection against a priesthood armed with extensive powers of discipline and excommunication. In con- sequence Bismarck introduced, and by his eloquence and influence carried, what were known as the May Laws. These provided for the scientific education of the Catholic clergy, the confirmation of clerical appointmi by the state, and a tribunal to consider and revise the conduct of the bishops. These enactments precipitated a latter contest between church and state, while the pope declared the May Laws null and void and threat* with excommunication all priests who should submit to them. The state retorted by withdrawing its financial support from the Catholic church and tuses of the constitution under which the church claimed independence of the state. Pope Pius IX. died in [87 . on the elec- tion ol Leo XIII. attempts were made to reconcile the exist- ,...,- .,,. ... . . , The Triumph of ing dinerences. I he reconciliation was a victory lor the the Chnrch church, the May Laws ceasing to be operative, the church revenues being restored and the control of the clergy ovi n in considerable measure regained. New concession granted in 1886 and 1SS7, and Bismarck felt himself beaten in his conflict with his clerical opponents, who had proved too strong and deeply entrenched for him. Economic epiestions became al >0 prominent, the revenues of the empire requiring some change in the system of free trade and the adoption of pro- tective duties, while the railroads were acquired by t! empire. Meanwhile the rapid growth ol socialism excited apprehension, which was added to when two attempts were made on the life of the em- 2 4 o BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY peror. These were attributed to the Socialists, and severe laws for the suppression of socialism were enacted. Bismarck also sought to cut the The Socialists ground from under the feet of the Socialists by an endeavor and the in- to improve the condition of the working classes. In 1881 suranceLaws ] aws were p asse d compelling employers to insure their work- men in case of sickness or accident, and in 1888 a system of compulsory insurance against death and old are was introduced. None of these, measures, however, checked the growth of socialism, which very actively continued. In 1882 a meeting was arranged by the chancellor between the emper- ors of Germany, Russia, and Austria, which was looked upon in Europe as a political alliance. In 1878 Russia drifted somewhat apart from Ger- many, but in the following year an alliance of defence and offence was con- cluded with Austria, and a similar alliance at a later date with Italy. This, which still continues, is known as the Triple Alliance In 1877 Bismarck announced his intention to retire, being worn out with the great labors of his position. To this the emperor, who felt that his state rested on the shoulders of the " Iron Chancellor," would not listen, though he gave him indefinite leave of absence. On March 9, 1888, Emperor William died. He was ninety years of age, having been born in 1797. He was succeeded by his son Frederick, then incurably ill from a cancerous affection of the throat, which carried him to the grave after a reign of ninety-nine days. His oldest son, William, succeeded on June 15, 1888, as William II. The liberal era which was looked for under Frederick was checked by his untimely death, his son at once returning to the policy of William I. and William li. and Bismarck. He proved to be far more positive and dictatorial the Dismissal in disposition than his Grandfather, with decided and vigorous f Rl It views of his own, which soon brought him into conflict with the equally positive chancellor. The result was a rupture with Bismarck, and his dismissal from the premiership in 1890. The young emperor subse- quently devoted himself in a large measure to the increase of the army and navy, a policy which brought him into frequent conflicts with the Reichstag, whose rapidly growing socialistic membership was in strong opposition to this development of militarism. The old statesman, to whom Germany owed so much, was deeply ag- grieved by this lack of gratitude on the part of the self-opinionated young emperor. Subsequently a reconciliation took place. But the political career of the great Bismarck was at an end, and he died on July 30, 1898. It is an interesting coincidence that almost at the same time died the equally great, BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF (,I-.RMANY 24 T but markedly different, statesman of England, William Ewart Gladstone. Count Cavour, the third great European statesman of the iast half of the nineteenth century, had completed his work and passed away nearly forty years before. The career of William II. has been one of much interest and some alarm to the ether nations of Europe. His eagerness for the development of the arm\- and navy, and the energy with which he pushed forward its organization and sought to add to its strength, seemed significant of warlike intentions, and then- was dread that this energetic young monarch might break the peace of Europe, if only to prove the irresistible strength of the military machine he had formed. But as years went on the The £> eve | op _ apprehensions to which his early career and expressions gave mentof the rise were quieted, and the fear that he would plunge Europe (ierman Arn, y into war vanished. The army and navy began to appear rather a costly plaything of the active young man than an engine of destruction, while it tended in considerable measure to the preservation of peace by rendering many a power dangerous to go to war with. The s; - with which the emperor began his reign showed an exag- gerated sense of the imperial dignity, though his later career indicated far more judgment and -ood sense than the early display of overweening self- importance promised, and the views of William II. now command far more respect than they did at first. He has shown himself a man of exuberant energy. Despite a permanent weakness of his left arm ami a serious affec- tion of the ear. he early became a skilful horseman ami an untiring hunter, as well as an enthusiastic yachtsman, ami there are few men in the empire more active ami enterprising to-day than the Kaiser. A principal cause of the break between William and Bismarck was the imperial interference with the laws for the suppression of Social- • « . nil 11' State Socialism ism. As aln . the old chancellor had established a sys- tem of compulsorj e insurance, through which workmen and their em- ployers—aided by the state — were obliged to provide for the support of artisans after a certain age. The system seems to have worked satisfacto- rily, but socialism of a more radical kind has grown in the empire far more rapidly than the emperor has approved of, and he has vigorously, though unsuccessfully, endeavored to prevent its increase. Another of his favorite measures, a religious education bill, he was obliged to withdraw on account of the opposition it excited. On more than one occasion he has come into sharp conflict with the Reichstag concerning increased taxation for the army and navy, and a strong party against his autocratic methods has sprung up, and has forced him more than once to recede from warmly-cherished measures. 242 BISMARCK AND THE NEW EMPIRE OF GERMANY It may be of interest here to say something concerning the organiza- tion of the existing German empire. The constitution of this empire, as Constitution of adopted April 16, 1871, proposes to "form an eternal union the German for the protection of the realm and the care of the welfare of Empire ^g German people," and places the supreme direction of mili- tary and political affairs in the King of Prussia, under the title of Deutscher Kaiser (German emperor). The war-making powers of the emperor, how- ever, are restricted, since he is obliged to obtain the consent of the Euridesrath (the Federal Council) before he can declare war otherwise than for the defence of the realm. His authority as emperor, in fact, is much les'i than that which he exercises as King of Prussia, since the imperial legislature is inde- pendent of him, he having no power of veto over the laws passed by it. This legislature consists of two bodies, the Bundesrath, representing the states of the union, whose members, 58 in number, are chosen for each session by the several state governments ; and the Reichstag, representing the people, whose members, 397 in number, are elected by universal suf- frage for periods of five years. The German union, as now constituted, comprises four kingdoms, six grand duchies, five duchies, seven principals ties, three cities, and the Reichsland of Alsace-Lorraine ; twenty-six separate states in all. It includes all the German peoples with the ex- ception of those of Austria. The progress of Germany within the century under review has been very great. The population of the states of the empire, 24,831,000 at the end of the Napoleonic wars, is now over 52,000,000, having more than doubled in number. The wealth of the country has grown in a far greater ratio, and Germany to-day is the most active manufacturing The Progress of Gy nation on the continent of Europe. Agriculture has similarly been greatly developed, and one of its products, the sugar beet, has become a principal raw material of manufacture, the production of beet-root sugar having increased enormously. The commerce of the empire has similarly augmented, it having become one of the most active commercial nations of the earth. Its imports, considerable in quantity, consist largely of raw materials and food stuffs, while it vies with Great Britain and the United States in the quantity of finished products sent abroad. In short, Germany has taken its place to-day as one of the most energetic of pro- ductive and commercial nations, and its wealth and importance have increased correspondingly. CHAPTER XV. Gladstone, the Apostle of Liberalism in England. IT is a fact of much interest, as showing the growth of the human mind," that William Ewart Gladstone, the great advocate of English Liberal- ism, made his first political speech in vigorous opposition to the Reform Bill of i S 3 1 . He was then a student at Oxford University, but this boyish address had such an effect upon his hearers, th.it Bishop Wordsworth felt sure the speaker "would one day rise to be Prime Minister ol England." This prophetic utterance may be mated with another one, (i| a j stone - s by Archdeacon Denison, who said : "I have just heard the First Political best speech I ever heard in my life, by Gladstone, against the Reform Bill. But, mark my words, that man will one day be a Liberal, for he argued against the Bill on liberal ground." Both these far-seeing men hit the mark. Gladstone became Prime Minister and the leader of the Liberal Party in England. Yet he had been reared as a Conservative, ami for many years he marched under the banner of Conservatism. His political career began in the first Reform Parlia- ment, in January, 1833. Two years afterward he vas made an under- secretary in Sir Robert Peel's Cabinet. It was under the same _, . . J (jladstone in Premier that he first became a full member of the Cabinet, in Parliament [845, as Secretary of State for the Colonies, lie was still a and the Tory in home politics, but had become a Liberal in his com- ial ideas, and was Peel's right-hand man in carrying out his gre.it commercial policy. The repeal of the Corn-laws was the work for which his Cabinet had been formed, and Gladstone, as the leading Free-trader in the lory ranks was called to it. As for Cobden, the apostle of Free-trade, Gladstone admired him immensely. "I do not know," he said in later years, "that there is in any period a man whose public career ami life were nobler or more admirable. Of course, I except Washington. Washington, to my mind, is the purest figure in history." As an advocate of Free-trade Glad- stone first came into connection with another noble figure, that of John Brio ht, who was to remain associated with him during: most of his career. In 1S57 he first took rank as one of the great moral forces of 243 244 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OE LIBERALISM modern times. In that year he visited Naples, where he saw the barbarous treatment of political prisoners under the government of the infamous King Bomba, and described them in letters whose indignation was breathed in such tremendous tones that England was stirred to its depths e e ers an( j a jj jr ur0 p e awakened. These thrilling epistles rave the from Naples / t> i & cause of Italian freedom an impetus that had much to do with its subsequent success, and gained for Gladstone the warmest veneration of patriotic Italians. In 1852 he first came into opposition with the man against whom he was to be pitted during the remainder of his career, Benjamin Disraeli, who had made himself a power in Parliament, and in that year became Chan- cellor of the Exchequer in Lord Derby's Cabinet and leader of the House of Commons. The revenue Budget introduced by him showed a sad lack of financial ability, and called forth sharp criticisms, to which he replied in a speech made up of scoffs, gibes and biting sarcasms, so daring and auda- cious in character as almost to intimidate the House. As he sat down Mr. Gladstone rose and launched forth into an oration which became historic. He gave voice to that indignation which lay suppressed beneath the cowed feeling which for the moment the Chancellor of the Exchequer's perform- _. ._ „ ance had left amono- his hearers. In a few minutes the First Contest . & Between Glad= House was wildly cheering the intrepid champion who had stone and rushed into the breach, and when Mr. Gladstone concluded, having torn to shreds the proposals of the Budget v a majority followed him into the division lobby, and Mr. Disraeli found his govern- ment beaten by nineteen votes. Such was the first great encounter between the two rivals. Lord Derby resigned at once, and politics were plunged into a condi- tion of the wildest excitement and confusion. Mr. Gladstone was the butt of Protectionist execration. He was near being thrown out of the window at the Carlton Club by twenty extreme Tories, who, coming upstairs after dinner, found him alone in the drawing-room. They did not quite go this length, though they threatened to do so, but contented themselves with insulting him. In the Cabinet that followed, headed by Lord Aberdeen, Gladstone succeeded Disraeli as Chancellor of the Exchequer, a position in which he was to make a great mark. In April, 1853, he introduced his first Budget, a marvel of ingenious statemanship, in its highly successful effort to equal- ize taxation. It remitted various taxes which had pressed hard upon the poor and restricted business, and replaced them by applying the succession duty to real estate, increasing the duty on spirits, and extending the income GLADSTONE, TILE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 2 45 tax. The latter Gladstone spoke of as an emergency tax, only to be applied in times of national danger, and presented a plan to extinguish it in i860. His plan failed to work. Nearly fifty years have passed since then, and the income tax still remains, seemingly a fixed element of the British revenue system. Taker, altogether, and especially in its expedients to equalize taxation, this first Budget of Mr. Gladstone maybe justly called the Gladstone's greatest of the century. The speech in which it was intro- Great Bud- duced and expounded created an extraordinary impression on get Speec the House and the country. For the first time in Parliament figures were made as interesting as a fair}- tale ; the dry bones of statistics were invested with a new and potent life, and it was shown how the yearly balancing of national accounts might be directed by and made to promote the pro- foundest and most fruitful principles of statesmanship. With such lucidity and pfcturesqueness was this financial oratory rolled forth that the dullest intellect could follow with pleasure the complicated scheme; and for live hours the House of Commons sat as if it were under the sway of a inaiji- cian's wand. When Mr. Gladstone resumed his seat, it was felt that the career of the coalition Ministry was assured by the genius that was discov- ered in its Chancellor of the Exchequer. It was, indeed, to Gladstone's remarkable oratorical powers that much of his success as a statesman was due. No man of his period was his equal in swaying and convincing his hearers. His rich and musical voice, his varied ami animated gestures, his impressive and vigorous delivery, great fluency, and wonderful precision of statement, gave him a oilstone's power over an audience which few men of the century have Powers af enjoyed. His sentences, indeed, were long and involved, an rato ' growing more so as his years advanced, but their fine choice of words, rich rhetoric, and eloquent delivery carried away all that heard him, as did his deep earnestness, and intense conviction of the truth of his uttei We must pass rapidly over a number of years of Gladstone': through most of which he continued to serve as Chancellor of the Ex chequer, and to amaze and delight the country by tin- financial reforms effected in his annual Budgets, between 1853 and 1866 those reforms rep resented a decrease in the weight of the burden of the national revenue amounting to ^13,000,000. Meanwhile his Liberalism had been steadily growing, and reached its culmination in 1865, when the great Tory university of Oxford, which he had long represented, rejected him as its member. At once he offered him- self as a candidate for South Lancashire, in which his native place was situ- 246 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM ated, saying, in the opening of his speech at Manchester : "At last, my friends, I am come among you ; to use an expression which has become verj famous and is not likely to be forgotten, ' I am come among you unmuz- zled.'" Unmuzzled he was, as his whole future career was to show. Oxford had, in a measure, clipped his wings. Now he was free to give the fullest Gladstone the expression to his liberal faith, and to stand before the country Liberal Leader as the great apostle of reform. In 1866 he became, for the o t e ouse ^ rst t ; me m ]-j[ s career) leader of the House of Commons — Lord Russel, the Prime Minister, being in the House of Lords. Many of his friends feared for him in this difficult position ; but the event proved that they had no occasion for alarm, he showing himself one of the most successful leaders the House had ever had. His first important duty in this position was to introduce the new suf- frage Reform Bill, a measure to extend the franchise in counties and bor- oughs that would have added about 400,000 voters to the electorate. In the debate that followed Gladstone and Disraeli were again pitted against each other in a grand oratorical contest. Disraeli taunted him with his youthful speech at Oxford against the Reform Bill of 1831. The Suffrage '. , v j ■ 1 r ■ 1 • l- l Reform Bill Gladstone replied in a burst of vigorous eloquence, in which he scored his opponent for lingering in a conservatism from which the speaker gloried in having been strong enough to break. He and the Cabinet were pledged to stand or fall with the Bill But, if it fell, the principle of right and justice which it involved would not fall. It was sure to survive and triumph in the future. He ended with this stirring predic- tion : " You cannot fight against the future. Time is on our side. The great social forces which move onwards in their might and majesty, and which the tumult of our debates does not for a moment impede or disturb, those great social forces are against you : they are marshalled on our side ; and the ban- ner which we now carry into this fight, though perhaps at some moment it may droop over our sinking heads, yet it soon again will float in the eye of Heaven, and it will be borne by the firm hands of the united people of the three kingdoms, perhaps not to an easy, but to a certain, and to a not far distant, victory." Disraeli and his party won. The Bill was defeated. But its defeat roused the people almost as they had been roused in 1832. A formidable riot broke out in London. Ten thousand people marched in procession past Gladstone's residence, singing odes in honor of " the People's William." There were demonstrations in his favor and in support of the GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 2\j Bill throughout the country. The agitation continued during the winter, its fire fed by the eloquence of another of the great orators of the century, the "tribune of the people," John Bright. This distingu- j- ;n) r| ani | ished man and powerful public speaker, through all his Agitated on life a strenuous advocate of moral reform and political orm progress, had begun his parliamentary career as an advocate of the Reform Bill of 1831-32. Me now became one of the great leaders in the new cam- paign and through his ace and that of Gla e the force of public opinion rose to such a height that the new Derby-Disraeli ministry found itself obliged to bring in a Bill similar to that winch it had worked so hard to overthrow. And now a striking event took pla The Tory Reform Bill was satisfactory to Gladstone in its general features, hut he proposed many improvements — lodger franchise, edui I and savings-bank franchises, enlargement of the redistribution of etc. — every one of which was yielded in committee, until, as one lord remarked, nothing of the original Bill remained hut the opening word, "Whereas." This bill, really the work of Gladstone, and more liberal than the one which had been defeated, was passed, and Toryism, in the very success of its measure, suffered a crushing defeat. To Gladstone, as the people perceived, their right to vote was due. But Disraeli was soon to attain to the exalted office for which he had long been striving. In February, r868, failing health caused [ )israe |j g e . Lord Derby to resign, and Disraeli was asked to form a comes Prime new administration. Thus the " Asian Mystery," as he had M,ms,er been entitled, reached the summit of his ambition, in becoming Prime Minister of England. He was not to hold this position long Gladstone was to reach the same high eminence before the year should end. Disraeli's government, beginning in February, [868, was defeated on the question of the disestab- lishment of the Irish Church; an appeal to the country resulted in a large Liberal gain ; and on December 4th the Queen sent for Mr. Gladstone and commissioned him to form a new ministry, The task was completed by the 9th, Mr. Bright, who had aided so greatly in the triumph of the Liberals, entering the new cabinet as President of the Board of Trade. Thus at last, after thirty-five years of active publiclife, Mr. Glad- oi adf tenant farmers — and for many years the leader of the of the Irish Party Irish party in Parliament. In the Parliament ol 1SS0 his followers numbered sixty-eight, enough to make him a power to be dealt with in legislation. Gladstone, in assuming control of the new government, was quite unaware of the task before him. When he had completed his work with the Church and the Land Pills ten years before, he fondly fancied that the Irish question was definitely settled. The Home Rule movement, which ■vas started in i med to him a wild delusion which would die away if itself. In 1884 he said : " I frankly admit that I had had much upon my 'lands connected with the doings of the Beaconsfield Government in every piarter of the world, and I did not. know — no one knew — the severity of the crisis that w. dy swelling upon the horizon, and that shortly after -ushed upon us like a flood." He was not long in discovering the gravity of the situation, of which :he House had been warned by Mr. Parnell. The famine had brought its :rop of misery, and, while the charitable were seeking to relieve the dis- . many of the landlords were turning adrift their tenants The Famine ami 'or non-payment of rents. The Irish party brought in a the Bill for Bill for the Suspension of Evictions, which the government lnsh Rel,ef by a similar one for Compensation for Disturbance. This was 1 with a large majority by the Commons, but was rejected by the Lords, and Ireland was left to face its misery without relief. The state of Ireland at that moment was too critical to be dealt with n this manner. The rejection of the Compensation for Disturbance Bill ivas, to the peasantry whom it had been intended to protect, a message of lespair, and it was followed by the usual symptom of despair in Ireland, in outbreak of agrarian crime. On the one hand over 1 7.000 persons were evicted ; on the other there ivas a dreadful crop of murders and outrages. 1'he Land Le night to do what Parliament did not; but in doing se t came in contact with the law. Moreover, the revolution — for revolution t seemed to be — grew too formidable for its control; the utmost it succeeded n doing was in some sense to ride without directing the storm. The first 14 2 52 GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM decisive step of Mr. Forster, the chief secretary for Ireland, was to strike a blow at the Land League. In November he ordered the prosecution of Mr. Forster's Mr - Parnell, Mr. Biggar, and several of the officials of the Policy of organization, and before the year was out he announced his Coercion intention of introducing a Coercion Bill. This step threw the Irish members under Mr. Parnell and the Liberal Government into rela- tions of definitive antagonism. Mr. Forster introduced his Coercion Bill on January 24, 1SS1. It was a formidable measure, which enabled the chief secretary, by signing a war- rant, to arrest any man on suspicion of having committed a given offence, and to imprison him without trial at the pleasure of the government. It practically suspended the liberties of Ireland. The Irish members ex- hausted every resource of parliamentary action in resisting it, and their tactics resulted in several scenes unprecedented in parliamentary history. In order to pass the Bill it was necessary to suspend them in a body several times. Mr. Gladstone, with manifest pain, found himself, as leader of the House, the agent by whom this extreme resolve had to be executed. The Coercion Bill passed, Mr. Gladstone introduced his Land Bill of Gladstone's 1881, which was the measure of conciliation intended to New Land balance the measure of repression. This was really a great and sweeping reform, whose dominant feature was the introduction of the novel and far-reaching principle of the State stepping in between landlord and tenant and fixing the rents. The Bill had some defects, as a series of amending acts, which were subsequently passed by both Liberal and Tory Governments, proved ; but, apart from these, it was on the whole the greatest measure of land reform ever passed for Ireland by the Impe- rial Parliament. But Ireland was not yet satisfied. Parnell had no confidence in the good intentions of the government, and took steps to test its honesty, which so angered Mr. Forster that he arrested Mr. Parnell and several other leaders and pronounced the Land League an illegal body. Forster ; was well meaning but mistaken. He fancied that by locking up the ring- leaders he could bring quiet to the country. On the contrary, affairs were soon far worse than ever, crime and outrage spreading widely. in Ireland ^ n despair, Mr. Forster released Parnell and resigned. All now seemed hopeful ; coercion had proved a failure ; peace and quiet were looked for ; when, four days afterward, the whole country was horrified by a terrible crime. The new secretary for Ireland, Lord Cavendish, and the under-secretary, Mr. Burke, were attacked and hacked to death with knives in Phoenix Park. GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 253 rywhere panic and indignation arose. A nev ion Act was passed without delay. It was vigorously put into effect, and a state <>f virtual war between England and Ireland again came into existence. Trouble also arose in the East. ( ireat Britain, in its usual fashion of seek- irry the world on its shoulders, had made the control of the : Canal an ex or an annoying interfei vernment of Egypt. The result was a revolution that drove Ismail Pasha from his throne As the British still held control, a revolt broke out among the people, I :d by an ambitious leader named Arabi Pasha, and Alexandria was British being driven out and many of them killed. Much as Gladstone deprecated war, he felt himself forced into it. John Bright, to whom war was a crime that nothing could warrant, resigned from the cabi- net, but the Government acted vigorously, the British fleet being ordered to bombard Alexandria. This was done effectively. The city, half reduced to ashes, was occupied by the- British, Arabi and his army withdrawing in haste Soon afterwards he was defeated l>y mentof Alex. General Wolseley and the insurrection was at an end. Egypt andria and remained a vassal of Great Britain. An unfortunate sequel Gordon to this may be briefly stated. A formidable insurrection broke out in the Soudan, under El Mahdi, a Mohammedan fanatic, who captured the city of Khartoum and murdered the famous General Gordon. For years Upper Egypt was lost to the state, it being recovered only at the close of the century by a military expedition. In South Africa the British were less successful. Here a war had been entered into with the Boers, in which the British forces suffered a severe defeat at M.ijuba Hill. Gladstone did not adopt the usual fashion of seek- ing revenue by the aid of a stronger force, but made peace, the Boers gain- ing what they had been fighting for. Disasters like this weakened the administration. Parnell and his fol- lowers joined hands with the Tories, and a vigorous assault was made upon the government. Slowly its majority fell t h e Liberals tway, and at length, in May, 1SS5, it was defeated. scene which followed was a curious one. The Irish raised cries of " No Coercion," while the Tories delivered themselves up to a frenzy of jubilation, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and wildly cheering. Lord Ran- dolph Churchill jumped on a bench, brandished his hat madly above his I, ami altogether behaved as if he were beside himself. Mr. Gladstone cdmly resumed the letter to the Queen which he had been writing on his knee, while the clerk at the table proceeded to run through the orders of the day. as if nothing particular had happened When in a few moments 254 GLADSTONE. THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM the defeated Premier moved the adjournment, he did so still holding his letter in one hand and the pen in the other, and the Conservatives surged through the doorway, tumultuously cheering. Gladstone's great opponent was no longer on earth to profit by his defeat. Beaconsfield had died in 1S81, and Lord Salisbury became head of the new Tory Government, one which owed its existence to Irish votes. It had a very short life. Parnell and his fellows soon tired of their unnatural alliance, turned against and defeated the Government, and Gladstone was sent for to form a new government. On February i, 1886, he became Prime Minister of Great Britain for the third time. During the brief interval his opinions had suffered a great revolution. He no longer thought that Ireland had all it could justly demand. He re- turned to power as an advocate of a most radical measure, that of Home Gladstone a Rule for Ireland, a restoration of that separate Parliament Convert to which it had lost in 1800. He also had a scheme to buy out the Irish landlords and establish a peasant proprietary by state aid. His new views were revolutionary in character, but he did not hesitate ■ — he never hesitated to do what his conscience told him was right. On April 8, 1886, he introduced to Parliament his Home Rule Bill. The scene that afternoon was one of the most remarkable in Parlia- mentary history. Never before was such interest manifested in a debate by either the public or the members of the House. In order to secure their places, members arrived at St. Stephen's at six o'clock in the morning, and spent the day on the premises ; and, a thing quite unprecedented, members A Remarkable wno cou ld not find places on the benches filled up the floor of Scene in Par- the House with rows of chairs. The strangers', diplomats', peers', and ladies' galleries were filled to overflowing. Men begged even to be admitted to the ventilating passages beneath the floor of the Chamber that they might in some sense be witnesses of the greatest feat in the lifetime of an illustrious old man of eighty. Around Palace Yard an enormous crowd surged, waiting to give the veteran a welcome as he drove up from Downing Street. Mr. Gladstone arrived in the House, pale and still panting from the excitement of his reception in the streets. As he sat there the entire Lib- eral party — with the exception of Lord Hartington, Sir Henry James, Mr. Chamberlain and Sir George Trevelyan — and the Nationalist members, by a spontaneous impulse, sprang to their feet and cheered him again and again. The speech which he delivered was in every way worthy of the occasion. It expounded, with marvelous lucidity and a noble eloquence, a tremendous scheme of constructive legislation — the re-establishment of a legislature in GLADSTONE, THE APOSTLE OF LIBERALISM 255 Ireland, but one subordinate to the Imperial Parliament, and hedged round with every safeguard which could protect the unity of the Empire. It took tiiree hours in deliver}-, and was listened to throughout with the utmost attention on every side of the House. At its close all parties united in a tribute of admiration for the genius which had astonished them with such an exhibition of its powers. Yet it is one thing to cheer an orator, another thing to vote for a revo- lution. The Bill was defeated — as it was almost sure to be. Mr. Gladstone at once dissolved Parliament and appealed to the country in a new election, with the result that he was decisively defeated. 1 lis bold declaration that the contest was one between the classes and the masses turned the aristocracy against him, while he had again roused the bitter hatred of his opponents. But the " Grand ( dd Man " bided his time. The new Salisbury ministry was oneof coercion carried to the extreme in Ireland, wholi iction, arrest of members of Parliament, suppression of public meetings by force of arms, and other measures of violence which in the end wearied the British public and doubled the support of Home Rule. In 1892 Mr. Gladstone returned to power with a majority of more than thirty Home Rulers in his support. It was one of the greatest efforts in the career of the old Parliamen- tary hero when he brought his new Hume Rule Bill before the House. Never in his young days had he worked more earnestly and „, . * J . } Gladstone's incessantly. He disarmed even his bitterest enemies, none of Last and whom now dreamed of treating him with disrespect. Mr. Bal Greatest four spoke of the delight and fascination with which even his opponents watched his leading ol the House and listened to his unsurpa eloquence. Old age had come to clothe with its pathos, as well as with its majesty, the white-haired, heroic figure. The event provi oi the great- est triumphs of his life. The Bill passed with a majority of thirty-four. That it would pass in the House of Lords no one looked for. It was de- feated there by a majority of 378 out of 460. With this great event the public career of the Grand < >ld Man came to an end. The burden had grown too heavy for his reduced strength. In March, 1894, to the consternation of his party, he announi his intention of retiring from public life. The Queen offered, Great Career as she had done once before, to raise him to the peerage as an earl, but he declined the proffer. His own plain name was a title higher than that of any earldom in the kingdom. On May 19, 1898 William Ewart Gladstone laid down the burden of his life as he had already done that of labor. The greatest and noblest figure in legislative life of the nineteenth century had passed away from earth. C ~ A > J) 'C ' r. z c c •7 - c CHARLES STEWART PARNELL. WILLIAM O'BRIEN. MICH.4 {j 11/ VUT. T M . HEALY- TffUR GREAT MODERN IRISH LEADERS CHAPTER XVI. Ireland the Downtrodden. TIME was when Ireland was free. But it was a barbarian freedom. The island had more kings than it had counties, each petty chief bearing the royal title, while their battles were as frequent as th of our Indian tribes of a past age. The island, despite the fact that it had an active literature reaching back to the early centuries of the Christian era, was in a condition of endless turmoil. This state of affairs was gradu- ally put an end to after the English conquest; but the civili- | re |and in the zation which was introduced into the island was made bitter PastCen- by an injustice and oppression which has Idled the Irish heart with an undying hatred of the English nation and a >s desire to break loose from its bonds. For centuries, indeed, the rule of England was largely a nominal one, the English control beini/ confined to a few coast districts in the east. In the interior the native tribes continued under the rule of their chiefs, were governed by their own laws, and remained practically independent It was not until the reign of James I. that England became master of all Ireland. In the last days of the reign of Elizabeth a great rising against the English had taken place in Ulster, under a chief named O'Neill. The Earl ;>f Essex failed to put it down and was disgraced by the queen in con- sequence. The armies of James finally suppressed the rebellion, and the unruly island now, for the first time, came fully under the control of an English king. It had given the earlier monarchs Rebellion and nothing but trouble, and fames determined to weaken its the Confisca- , .,.,.,,, , , , . tion of Ulster power for mischief. lo do so he took possession ol six counties of Ulster and filled them with Scotch and English colonists. As for the Irish, tin simply crowded out, and left to seek a living where they could. There was no place left for them but the marshes. This act of ruthless violence filled the Irish with an implacable hatred of their oppressors which lias not vanished in the years since it took place. They treasured up their wrongs for thirty years, but in 1641. when England was distracted by its civil war. they rose in their wrath, fell upon the colonists and murdered all who could not save •59 2bu AND THE DOWNTRODDEN eight years, while the English had their hands full at home, tne Irish held their reconquered lands in triumph, but in 1649 Cromwell fell upon them with his invincible Ironsides, and took such a cruel revenge that he himself confessed that he had imbued his hands in blood like a common butcher. In truth, the Puritans looked upon the Papists as outside the pale of humanity, and no more to be considered than a herd of wild Bloody beasts, and they dealt with them as hunters might with Severity and noxious animals. The severity of Cromwell was threefold greater than that the Irish * . s of James, for he drove the Irish out of three provinces, Ulster, Leinster and Munster, bidding them go and find bread or graves in the wilderness of Connaught. Again the Irish rose, when James II., the dethroned king, came to demand their aid ; and again they were over- thrown, this time in the memorable Battle of the Boyne. William III. now completed the work of confiscation. The greater part of the remaining province of Connaught was taken from its holders and given to English colonists. The natives of the island became a landless people in their own land. To complete their misery and degradation, William and the succeeding monarchs robbed them of all their commerce and manufactures, by forbid- ding them to trade with other countries. Their activity in this direction interfered with the profits of English producers and merchants. By these The Cause of merciless and cruel methods the Irish were reduced to a Irish Hatred nation of tenants, laborers and beggars, and such they still remain, downtrodden, oppressed, their most lively sentiment being their hatred of the English, to whom they justly impute their degradation. The time came when England acknowledged with shame and sorrow the misery to which she had reduced a sister people — but it was then too late to retrieve the wrong. English landlords owned the land, manufac- turing industry had been irretrievably crowded out, the evil done was past mending. With these preliminary statements we come to the verge of the nine- teenth century. America had rebelled against England and gained independence. This fact stirred up a new desire for liberty in the Irish. The island had always possessed a legislature of its own, but it was of no value to the natives. It represented only the great Protestant land- owners, and could pass no act without the consent of the Privy Council of England. IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 261 A demand national Parliament was made, and the English government, having its experience in America b< fore its eyes, Home ^ U | ean j granted it, an act being passed in 17S2 which made Ireland theActof independent of England in legislation, a system such as is mon now called Home Rule. It was not enough. It did not pacify the island. The religious animosity between the Catholics and Protestants continued. and in 1798 violent disturbances broke out, with massacres on both sides, The Irish Parliament was a Protestant body, and at first was elected solely by Protestant votes. Grattan, the eminent Irish statesman, thro whose efforts this body had been made an independent legislature, — " The King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland, to make laws for the people of Ire- land," — carried an act to permit Catholics to vote for its members. He then strove for a measure to permit Catholics to sit as members in the Irish Parliament. This was too much for George III. He recalled Lord Fitz- william, the viceroy of Ireland, who had encouraged and assisted Grattan and blighted the hopes of the Irish Catholics. The revolt that followed was the work, of a society called the United Irishmen, organized by Protestants, but devoted to the interests of Ireland. Wolfe Tone, one of its leading members, went to France ami induced Napo- leon to send an expedition to Ireland. A fleet was dispatched, but this, like the Spanish Armada, was dispersed by a storm, and the few The United Frenchmen who landed were soon 1 he rebellion Irishmen and was as quickly crushed, and was followed by deeds of remorse- less cruelty, so shameful that they were denounced by the commander-in chief himself. With this revolt the independence of Ireland ended. An act of union was offered and carried through the Irish Parliament by a very free use of money among the members, ami the Irish Legislature was incor- porated with the British one. Since January 1. 1S01, all laws for Ireland have been made in London. Among the most prominent members of the United Irishmen Society were two brothers named Emmet, the fate of one ol whom has ever since been remeir with sympathy, Thomas A. Emmet, one of these brothers, was arrested in 1 79S as a member of this society, and was impris- oned until 1802, when he was released on condition that he should spend the remainder of his life on foreign soil. He eventually reached New York, at ise bar he attained eminence. The fate of his more famous brother, Robert Emmet, was tragical. This young man, a school-fellow of Thomas Moore, the poet, was expelled from Trinity College in 1 79S, when twenty years of age, as a member of the United Irishmen. He went to the conti- 262 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN nent, interviewed Napoleon on behalf of the Irish cause, and returned in 1802 with a wild idea of freeing Ireland by his own efforts from English rule. Organizing a plan for a revolution, and expending his small fortune in the purchase of muskets and pikes, he formed a plot to seize Dublin Castle, capture the viceroy, and dominate the capital. At the head of a small body The Fate of °^ followers he set out on this hopeless errand, which ended Robert Em- at the first volley of the guards, before which his confederates met hastily dispersed. Emmet, who had dressed himself for the occassion in a green coat, white breeches and cocked hat, was deeply morti- fied at the complete failure of his scheme. He fled to the Wicklow moun- tains, whence, perceiving that success in his plans was impossible, he resolved to escape to the continent. But love led him to death. He was deeply attached to the daughter of Curran, the celebrated orator, and, in despite of the advice of his friends, would not consent to leave Ireland until he had seen her. The attempt was a fatal one. On his return from the interview with his lady-love he was arrested and imprisoned on a charge of high treason. He was condemned to death September 19, 1803, and was hanged the next day. Before receiving sentence he made an address to the court of such noble and pathetic eloquence that it still thrills the reader with sympathetic emotion. It is frequently reprinted among examples of soul-stirring oratory. The disconsolate woman, Sarah Curran, perished of a broken heart after his untimely death. This event is the theme of one of Moore's finest poems : " She is far from the land where her young hero lies." The death of Emmet and the dispersal of the United Irishmen by no means ended the troubles in Ireland, but rather added to their force. Ire- land and England, unlike in the character and religion of their people and in their institutions, continued in a state of hostility, masked or active, the Landlords, Ten- °^ f eu ds being kept alive on the one side by the landlords, ants and on the other by the peasantry and the clergy. The country ergy was divided into a great number of small farms, thousands of them being less than five acres each in size. For these the landlords — many of whom the tenants never saw and some of whom had never seen Ireland — often exacted extravagant rents. Again, while the great majority of the people was Catholic, the Catholic clergy had to be supported by the voluntary contributions of the poverty-stricken people, while tithes, or church taxes, were exacted by law for the payment of clergymen of the English Church, who remained almost without congregations. Finally, the Catholics were disfranchised, After the abolishment of the Irish IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 263 Parliament they were without representation in the government under which they lived. No Catholic could be a member of Parliament. It is not surprising that their protest was vigorous, and that the British government had many rebellious outbreaks to put down. It was the disfranchisement of the Catholics that first roused opposition. i '.rattan brought up a bill for "Catholic Emancipation "—that oxonnei! and is, the admission of Catholics to the British Parliament and the Catholic repeal of certain ancient, and oppressive edicts — in 18 13. The mancipa ion bill was lost, but a new and greater advocate of Irish rights now arose, I >aniel O'Connell, the •'Liberator," the greatest of Irish orators and patriots, who for many years was to champion the cause of downtrodden Ireland. The '•counsellor" — a favorite title of O'Connell anion- his Irish admirers — was a man of remarkable powers, noted for his boisterous Irish wit and ^ r ood humor, his fearlessness and skill as a counsel, his constant tact and readiness in reply, his unrivalled skill in the cross-examination of Irish witnesses, and the violent language which he often employed in court. This man, of burly figure, giant strength, inexhaustible energy and power of work, a voice mighty enough to drown the noise of a The "Counsel- crowd, a fine command of telling lanmia^e, coarse but effec- lor "and His live humor, ready and telling retort, and master of all the artillery of vituperation, was just the man to control the Irish people, passing with the ease of a master from bursts of passion and outbreaks of buffoonery to passages of the tenderest pathos. Thoroughly Irish, he seemed made by nature to sustain the cause of Ireland. O'Connell was shrewd enough to deter revolt, and, while awakening in the Irish the spirit of nationality, he taught them to keep political agita- tion within constitutional limits, and seek by legislative means what tiny had no hope of gaining by force of arms. His legal practice was enor- mous, yet amid it he found time for convivial relaxation and for a deep plunge into the whirlpool of politics. The vigorous advocate was not long in rising to the chiefship of the Irish party, but his effective work in favor of Catholic emancipation b in 1823, when he founded the "Irish Association," a gigantic system of organization which Ireland had nothing similar to before. The , ...... , ... , The Irish As- clergy were disinclined to take part in this movement, but SOC iation O'Connell's eloquence brought them in before the end of the year, and under their influence it I national, spreading irresistibly throughout the land and rousing everywhere the greatest enthusiasm. I obtain funds for its support the "Catholic Rent" was established — one penny a month- which yielded as much as ,£500 per week. 264 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN In alarm at the growth of this association, the government brought in a bill for its suppression, but O'Connell, too shrewd to come into conflict with the authorities, forstalled them by dissolving it in 1825. He had set the ball rolling. The Irish forty-shilling freeholders gained courage to oppose their landlords in the elections. In 1826 they carried Waterford. In 1828 O'Connell himself stood as member of parliament for Clare, and was elected amid the intense enthusiasm of the people. This triumph set the whole country in a flame. The lord-lieutenant looked for an insurrection, and even Lord Wellington, prime minister of England, was alarmed at the threatening outlook. But O'Connell, knowing- that an outbreak would be ruinous to the Catholic cause, used his marvelous powers to still the agitation and to induce the people to wait for parliamen- tary relief. This relief came the following year. A bill was passed which admitted Catholics to parliament, and under it O'Connell made his appearance in the House of Commons May 15, 1829. He declined to take the old oaths, which had been repealed by the bill. The House refused to O'Connell in .... , ,. . . , . „, Parliament admit rum on these conditions, and he went down to Clare again, which sent him back like a conqueror. At the begin- ning of 1830 he took his seat unopposed. O'Connell's career in parliament was one of persistent labor for the repeal of the "Act of Union" with Great Britain, and Home Rule for Ireland, in the advocacy of which he kept the country stirred up for years. The abolition of tithes for the support of the Anglican clergy was another of his great subjects of agitation, and this one member had the strength of a host as an advocate of justice and freedom for his country. The agitation on the Catholic question had quickened the sense of the wrongs of Ireland, and the Catholics were soon engaged in a crusade against tithes and the established Church, which formed the most offensive symbols of their inferior position in the state. In 1830 the potato crop in Ireland was very poor, and wide-spread misery and destitution prevailed. O'Connell advised the people to pay no tithes, but in this matter they passed beyond his control, and for months crime ran rampant. The Trouble farmers refused to pay tithes or rents, armed bands marched through the island, and murder and incendiarism visited the homes of the rich. A stringent coercion bill was enacted and the troubles were put down by the strong hand of the law. Subsequently the Whig party, then in power, practically abolished tithes, cutting down the revenue of the Established Church, and using the remainder for secular purposes, and the agitation subsided. IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN 265 In 1852 O'Connell became member for Dublin, and nominated most of the Irish candidates, with such that he had in the next Parliament a following of forty-five members, known sarcastically as his "tail." He gradually attained a position of great eminence in the House of Commons. standing in the first rank of parliamentary orators as a debater. When a Tory ministry came into power, in 1841, O'Connell began a in favor of repeal of the Act of Union and of Home Rule for Ireland, advocating the measure with all his wonder- r , , T ' . 111 -ii 1 The Home Rule ml power of oratory. IniS^hef 1 5,000 miles through crusade Ireland, speaking to immense meetings, attended by hun- dreds of thousands of people, and extending to every corner of the island. But thanks to Ids great controlling power, and the influence of Father Mathew, the famous temperance advocate, these audiences were n unruly mobs, but remained free from crime and drunkenness. The gr< was that held on the Hill of Tara, at which, according to the Nation, three- quarters of a millii 'lis were present. O'Connell wisely deprecated rebellion and bloodshed. " He who com- mits a crime adds strength to the enemy," was his favorite motto. Through a whole generation, with wonderful skill, he kept the public mind at the highest pitch of political excitement, yet restrained it from violence. But with all his power the old chief began to lose control of the enthuisastic Young Ireland party and. confident that the government must soon yield to the impassioned appeal from a whole nation, he aliowed himself in his speeches to outrun his sober judgment. 1< arful of an outbreak of violence, the government determined to put an end to these enormous meetings, and ,1 >f 35,000 men was sent to Ireland. A great meeting had been called for Clantarf on October 5, 1843, but it was forbidden the day before by the authorities, and O'Connell, fearing bloodshed, abandoned it. He was arrested, however, tried for a con- spirai y to arouse sedition, and sentenced to a year's imprison- , c r r •! • • 11 O'Connell ment ami a fine of /,2,cx>3. 1 his sentence was set aside by imprisoned the House of Lords some months afterward as erroneous, and at once bonfires blazed across Ireland from sea to sea. But the three months he passed in prison proved fatal to the old chief, then nearly seventy years old. He contracted a disease which tarried him to the grave three years afterwards. During his withdrawal the Young Ireland party began to advocate resistance to the government. In [846 and 1S47 came the potato famine, the most severe visitation Ireland had known during the century, and in 184S the revolutionary movement in Europe made itself felt on Irish soil. 266 IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN In the latter year the ardent Young Ireland party carried the country into rebellion ; but the outbreak was easily put down, hardly a drop of blood be- The Young m S sne< ^ m ' ts suppression. The popular leader, Smith Ireland O'Brien, was banished to Australia, but was eventually Rebellion pardoned. John Mitchell, editor of the Nation and the United Irishman, was also banished, but subsequently escaped from Australia to the United States. The wrongs of Ireland remained unredeemed, and as long- as this was the case quiet could not be looked for in the island. In 1858 a Phoenix conspiracy was discovered and suppressed. Meanwhile John O'Mahony, one of the insurgents of 1848, organized a formidable secret society among the Irish in the United States, which he named the Fenian Brotherhood, after Finn, the hero of Irish legend. This organization was opposed by the Catholic clergy, but grew despite their opposition, its members becoming numerous and its funds large. Its leader in Ireland was James Stephens, and its organ the Irish Peo- ple newspaper. But there were traitors in the camp and in 1865 the paper was suppressed and the leaders were arrested. Stephens Brotherhood escaped from prison ten days after his arrest and made his way to America. The revolutionary activity of this associa- tion was small. There were some minor outbreaks and an abortive attempt to seize Chester Castle, and in September, 1867, an attack was made on a police van in Manchester, and the prisoners, who were Fenians, were rescued. Soon after an attempt was made to blow down Clerkenwell Prison wall, with the same purpose in view. The Fenians in the United States organized a plot in 1866 for a raid upon Canada, which utterly failed, and in 1871 the government of this country put a summary end to a similar expedition. With this the active existence of the Fenian organization ended, unless we may ascribe to it the subsequent attempts to blow down important structures in London with dynamite. These movements, while ineffective as attempts at insurrection, had their influence in arousine the more thoughtful statesmen of England to the causes for discontent and need of reform in Ireland, and since that period the Irish question has been the most prominent one in Parliament. Such men Land Holding as ^ r - Gladstone and Mr. Bright took the matter in hand, Reform in Gladstone presenting a bill for the final abolition of Irish tithes and the disestablishment of the English Church in Ireland. This was adopted in 1868, and the question of the reform of land holding was next taken up, a series of measures being passed to improve the IRELAND THE DOWNTRODDEN condition of the Irish tenant fanner. If ejected, he was to be compen for improvements he had ind a Land Commission was formed with the power to reduce rents where this seemed necessary, and also to fix the rent for a term of years. At a later date a Land Pun nmission was organized, to aid tenants in buying their farms from the landlords, by an advance of a large portion of the purchase money, with provision for grad- lly repayment. These measures did not put an end to the agitation. Numerous ejec- tions from farms for non-payment of rent had been going on, and a fierce struggle was raging u the peasants and thi of the absentee landlords. The disturbance was great, and successive Coercion Acts were passed. The peasants were supported by the powerful Land League, while the old question of Home Rule was revh n, under the active leader- ship of Charles Stewart Parnell, who headed a small but very determined body in Parliament. The succeeding legislation for Ireland ed by Mr. (dadstone, to the passage in the anions <■ i tt ti i Tin c 11 ,- • i The Home Rule of the Home Rule bill ot 1093. has been sufficiently Agitation described in the preceding chapter, and need not be repeated here. It will suffice to say in conclusion, that the demand for Home Rule still exists, and that, in spite of all efforts at reform, the position of the Irish int is far from being satisfactory, the most prolific crop in that long- oppressed land seemingly being one of beggary and semi-starvation. CHAPTER XVII. England and Her Indian Empire. IN 1756, in the town of Calcutta, the headquarters of the British in India. there occurred a terrible disaster. A Bengalese army marched upon and captured the town, taking prisoner all the English who had not escaped to their ships. The whole of these unfortunates, 146 in number, were thrust into the "black hole," a small room about eigh- of Calcutta C teen ^ eet s <3 uare > w ' tn two small windows. It was a night of tropical heat. The air of the crowded and unventilated room soon became unfit to breathe. The victims fought each other fiercely to reach the windows. The next morning, when the door was opened, only twenty-three of them remained alive. Such is the famous story of the "black hole of Calcutta." In the following year (1757) this barbarism was avenged. On the bat tlefield of Plassey stood an army of about 1,000 British and 2,100 Sepoys, with nine pieces of artillery. Opposed to them were 50,000 native infantry _.. . . and 18,000 cavalry, with fifty cannon. The disproportion was Battle of enormous, but at the head of the British army was a great Plassey leader, Robert Clive, who had come out to India as a humble clerk, but was now commander of an army. A brief conflict ended the affair. The unwieldy native army fled. Clive's handful of men stood vic- torious on the most famous field of Indian warfare. This battle is taken as the beginning of the British Empire in India. It is of interest to remember that just one hundred years later, in 1857, that em- pire reached the most perilous point in its career, in the outbreak of the great Indian mutiny. Plassey settled one question. It gave India to the English in preference to the French, in whose interest the natives were fighting. The empire which Clive founded was organized by Warren Hastings, the ablest but the most unscrupulous of the governors of India. At the opening of the nineteenth century the British power in India was firmly established. In 1708 the Marquis of Wellesly -afterwards known as Wellesley's Ca= T . , TT „. n , t? ..1 u U A reer in India Lord Wellington— was made governor Even there he had his future great antagonist to guard against, for Napoleon was at that time in Egypt, and was thought to have the design of driving the 268 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE British from India and restoring that great dominion to ! Welles! career in India was a brilliant one. He overthrew the powerful Mar- hatta Confederacy, gained victory alter victory over the native chiefs and igul cities of Delhi and Agra, and spread the power of the British arms far and wide through the peninsula. In the succeeding years war after war ti ice. The warlike hattas rebelled and wi re again pul down, other tribes were conquered, and in 1824 the city of Bhartpur in Central India, believed by the natives to be impregnable, was taken by storm, and the reputation of the British as in- domitable fighters was greatly enhanced. Rapidly the British pi extended until nearly the whole peninsula was subdued. In 1837 the con- querors of India began to interfere in the affairs of Afghanistan, and a Brit- ish garrison was placed in Cabul, the capital of that country, in 1S39. Two years they stayed there, and then came to them one of tin est catastrophes in the history of the British army. Surrounded by hostile and daring Afghans, the situation of the garrison grew so perilous that it seemed suicidal to remain in Cabul, and il -mined t uate the city .uu\ retreat to India through the difficult p of the Himalayas. In fanuary, [842, they set out, 4,000 fighting men and 1 2,000 camp followers. Deep snows covered the hills ami all around them swarmed The Terrible the Alghaos, savage and implacable, bent on their utter de- Retreat , . . 1 t • . 1 ..■ from Cabu! struction. attacking them from every point oi vantage, cutting down women and children with the same ruthless cruelty as they displayed in the case of men. One terrible week passed, then, on the afternoon of January 13th, the sentinels at 1 Cabul aw approaching a miserable, haggard map. able to sit upon his horse. Utterly ex- hausted, covered with cuts and contusions, he rode through thi . and announced himself as Dr. Brydan, the sole survivor of the army which had left Cabul one week before. The remainder, men, women, and children, — except a few who had been taken prisoners,- lay slaughtered along that dreadful road, their mangled bodies covering almost every foot of its blood- stained length. The British exacted revenge for this terrible massacre. A powerful force fought its way back to Cabul, defeated the Afghans wherever met, and rescued the few prisoners in the Afghan hands. Then the soldiers turned their backs on Cabul, which no British army was to see again for nearly forty years. Three years afterwards the British Empire in India was seriously threat- ened by one of the most warlike- races in the peninsula, the Sikhs, a cour- ageous race inhabiting the Bunjab, in northern India, their capital the '5 270 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE city of Lahore. In 1845 a Sikh army, 60,000 strong, with 150 guns, crossed the Sutlei River and invaded British territory. Never before The War With . the Sikhs ^ a< ^ t ' le British in India encountered men like these. Four pitched battles were fought, in each of which the British lost heavily, but in the last they drove the Sikhs back across the Sutlej and cap- tured Lahore. That ended the war for the time being, but in 1848 the brave Sikhs were in arms again, and pushing the British as hard as before. On the field of Chilianwala the British were repulsed, with a loss of 2,400 men and the colors of three regiments. This defeat was quickly retrieved. Lord Gough met the enemy at Guzerat and defeated them so utterly that their army was practically destroyed. They were driven back as a shapeless mass of fugi- tives, losing their camp, their standards, and fifty-three of their cherished guns. With this victory was completed the conquest of the Punjab. The Sikhs became loyal subjects of the queen, and afterwards supplied her armies with the most valorous and high-spirited of her native troops. Thus time went on until that eventful year of 1S57, when the British power in India was to receive its most perilous shock. For a long time there had been a great and continually increasing discontent in India. Complaints were made that the treaties with native princes were not kept, that extortion was practised by which officials grew rapidly and mysteriously wealthy, looking upon India as a field for the acquisition of riches, and that the natives were treated by the governing powers with deep contempt, while every license was granted to the soldiery. The hidden The Causes of the Mutiny cause of the discontent, however, lay in the deep hatred felt by the natives, Hindu and Mussulmen alike, for the dominant race of aliens to whom they had been obliged to bow in common subjection ; and the fanaticism of the Flindus caused the smouldering- elements of discon- tent to burst out into the flames of insurrection. A secret conspiracy was formed, in which all classes of the natives participated, its object being to overthrow the dominion of the English. It had been prophesied among the natives that the rule of the foreign masters of India should last only foi a hundred years ; and a century had just elapsed since the triumph of Clive at Plassey. Small chupathes, cakes of unleavened bread, were secretly passed from hand to hand among the natives, as tokens of comradeship in the enter- prise. This conspiracy was the more dangerous from making The Greased f . t t , ■ 1 , Cartridges lts wa Y into the army, for India was a country governed by the sword. A rumor ran through the cantonments of the Bengal army that cartridges had been served out greased with the fat of ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE 2 7i animals unclean to Hindu and Mussulman alike, ami which the Hindus could not bite without loss oi caste, the injunction of their religion obi them to abstain from animal fo ler this penalty. After this nothing could quiet their minds ; fires broke out nightly in their quarters; officers were insulted by their men ; all confidence was gone, and discipline he-came an empty form. sentence of penal servitude passed upon some of the mutineers hi-came the signal for the breaking out of the revolt. At Meerut, on the Upper Ganges, the Sepoys broke into rebellion, liberated their comrades who were being led away in chains, and marched in a hotly to Delhi, the ancient capital ol India and former scat of the Mogul empire. , , , , ■ r i -i • i The Old llm- riere they took possession of it military mag md peror Akbar seized its stores. Those among the British inhabitants who did not save themselves by immediate flight were barbar eath ; and the decrepit Akbar, the descendant of the Moguls, an old man of ninety, w!u > lived at 1 >elhi upon a pensii »n granted to him by the East India Company, was drawn from his retirement and proclaimed Emperor of Hindostan by the rebels, his son, Mir/a, being associated with him in the government. The mutiny spread with terrible rapidity, and m. of the English took place at Indole, Allahabad, Azimghur, and other towns. Foremost in atrocity stands the massacre perpetrated at Cawnpore by Nana Sahib, the adopted son of the last Peishwa of the Marhattas, who, after the Frightful entering into a compact with General Wl by which he Massacreat promised a free departure to the English, caused the boats in Cawnpore which they were proceeding down the river to lie fired upon. The men were thus slain, while the women and children were broughl ] prisonei Cawnpore. Here they wen- confined for some days in a building, into which murderers wen- sent who massai red them every one, the mutilated corpses being thrown down a well. In Oude, the noble-minded Sir Henry Lawrence defended himself throughout the whole summer in the citadel of Lucknow against the rebels under Nana Sahib with wonderful skill and bravery, until he was killed by the bursting of a bomb, on the 2<\ of fuly. The di among whom were many ladies and children, was now extreme. But the little garrison held oul for nearly three mouths longer against .the greatest odds and amid thi mosl distress rdships. At length came that the Scotch eventful day, when, to the keen ears ol one of the despairing siojcanat sufferers, a Scotch woman, came from a imiliar and most Uc now t ul sound. ■' 1 >inna ye hear the pibroch ?" she cried, springing to her feet in the ecstacy of hope renewed. 272 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE Those near her listened but heard no sound, and many minutes passed before a swell of wind bore to their ears the welcome music of the bagpipe, playing the war-march of the Highlanders of her native land. It came from the party of relief led by General Havelock, which had left Calcutta on the first tidings of the outbreak, and was now marching in all haste to imperilled Lucknow. On his way Havelock had encountered the mutineers at Futtipur and gained a brilliant victory. Three days later Cawnpore was reached. There the insurgent Sepoys fought with desperation, but they were defeated, and the British entered the town, but not in time to rescue the women and chil- dren, whose slaughter had just taken place. What they saw The March of , r11 , , , ,. . , , , . r , Havelock there nlleci the soldiers with the deepest sentiments of horror and vengeance. The sieht was one to make the blood run cold. "The ground," says a witness of the terrible scene, "was strewn with clotted blood, which here and there lay ankle deep. Long locks of hair were scattered about, shreds of women's garments, children's hats and shoes, torn books and broken playthings. The bodies were naked, the limbs dismembered. I have seen death in all possible forms, but I could not gaze on this terrible scene of blood." The frightful slaughter was mercilessly avenged by the infuriated soldiers on the people of Cawnpore and on the prisoners they had taken. Havelock then crossed the Ganges and marched into Oude. Fiehtine its way through the difficulties caused by inclement weather and the continual onslaughts of the enemy, Havelock's regiment at last effected a coalition with the reinforcements under General Outram, and together they marched towards Lucknow, which was reached at the end of September. An especial act of heroism was achieved during the siege of Lucknow by Mr. Kavanagh, an official, who offered, disguised as a native, to pene- trate through a region swarming with enemies, to communicate with the general of the approaching relieving force. He happily accomplished his dangerous exploit, from which he obtained the honorable nickname of " Lucknow Kavanagh." As the army of relief drew near, the beleaguered people heard with ears of delight the increasing sounds of their approach, the roar of distant guns reaching their gladdened ears. Yet the enterprise was a desperate one and its success was far from assured. Havelock and Outram had The Relief of ,1 , i -i .1 , . no more than 2,000 men, while the enemy was 50,000 strong. Yet as the sound of the guns increased there were evidences of panic among the natives. Many of the town people and of the Sepoys took to flight, some crossing the river by the bridge, some by swimming. ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE At two o'clock the smoke of the guns was visible in the subui I the rattle of musketry could be heard. At five o'clock heavy firing bi in the streets, and in a few minutes more a force of I [ighlandei and Sikhs turned into ti t leading to th ncy, in which th [garrison had so long been confined. Headed by General Outram, they ran rapid pace to tie nid wild cheers from those within, made their way into the beleaguered enclosure, and the first siege of Lucknow was at an end. garrison had fought for months behind slight d and against enormous odds. They were well supplied with food and water, but they had been exposed to terrible heat and heavy and ;ant rains. Sepoys had been drilled by British officers, w< re well suppli with arms and ammunition, and from the housetops ol the *!'; u enng at Lucknow town kept up an incessant lire that 1 ever) cornet the defended fortress. Sickness raged in the crowded and underground rooms in which shelter was sought against th tant musketry, and death had reaped a harvest among the gallant and unyielding few who had so long held thai almosl untenable post. Havelock's men were able to do no more than reinforce the rison. Alter fighting their way with heavy losses into the citadel, they found that it was impossible, with their small army, to fori through the ranks of the eiicmv with the v , children and invalids. surrounded by the swarms ol rebels who surged round the walls like a foami They were compelled, therefore, to shut themselves up, and await fresh reinforcements. Provisions, however, no liminish, and they were menaced with tin- horrors of starvation; but matters did not reach this last extremity. Sir Colin Camp- Tl »f Coming oi 1 Campbell bell, tin' new commander-in-chief, with 7,000 well-equipped troops, was already on the way. lb' arrived at Luckn the 14th of November, a bold and successful attack on the fortifii . and liberated th> Unable to hold the town, h il to the enemy, being ntent h i in the dency. Eight days afterwards H ivelock died of cholera. Hi iry is held in high esteem as the most heoric figure in the war of the mutiny. Meanwhile Delhi was under siege, which began on fune 8th, just one month alter the original outbreak. It was, however, not properly a siege, for the British wi on a ri< ;ome distai from the city. They never numbered more than 8,000 men, s, «S e a "ude set out lor England, to proclaim , . . , ,-iii r 1 w- The Hootv <>f the mm icence 01 her son " in the dark countries of the \\ 1 the So i d j ers and to preserve to her house the shadow of an indepi monarchy. She never saw her sunny India again, however ; on the return journe) she died of a broken heart. Though the rebellion tally lost force and cohesion after this period, the vengeance continued for a longer. But the chiel rebel, Nana Sahib, and the two heroic women, the Begum of Oude .\\\v\ the Ranee of Jansee, escaped to Nepaul. In the course of the year 1 S 5 S , peace and order again returned to the Anglo-Indian Empire, and the government was able to consider means of reconciliation. By a proclamation of the queen all rebels who were not directly implicated in the murder of British subjects, and would return to their duty and allegi- ance by fanuary, 1859, were to obtain a complete amnesty. The East India This proclamation also announced that the queen, with the Company consent of Parliament, had determined to abolish the East India Company, the go\ eminent into her own hands, and to rule India by means of a special secretary of state and council. I he Indian Empire, both within and without, had assumed such gigantic proportions that it could no longer be properly ruled by a mercantile company, and came properly under the control of the crown. In 1876 >ia assumed, by act of Parliament, the title of Em f India. The most re- victoria is Made cent important event, in the acquisition of territory in this Empressof part oi the world, was the invasion of Burmah in 1885, and "' ,a its capture after a short and decisive campaign. The Indian Empire of Victoria has now grown enormous in extent, its borders extending to the 276 ENGLAND AND HER INDIAN EMPIRE Himalayas on the north, where they are in contact with the boundaries of the great imperial dominion which Russia has acquired in Asia Whether the two great rivals will yet come into conflict on this border is a question which only the future can decide. India possesses a population only surpassed by that of China.amounting at the census of 1896 to 221,172,952. This excludes the native and partially independent states, the population of which numbers 66,050,479, making a total for the whole empire, including Burmah, of 287,223,431. Under British control the country has been greatly developed, and abundantly supplied with means of internal communication, its railroad lines covering a length of about 27,000 miles, and its telegraphs of over 45,000 miles, while the telephone has also been widely introduced. Its commerce amounts in round numbers to nearly $500,000,000 annually. This great country has long been subject to devastating disasters. In 1876 a terrible tidal wave drowned thousands of the people and destroyed millions in value of property. In 1897 much of the country suffered fright- fully from famine, being the fifteenth occasion during the century. In the same year a plague broke out in the crowded city of Bombay and caused dreadful ravages among its native population. For ages past India has been subject to visitations of this kind, which have hitherto surpassed the power of man to prevent. In the last named all the world came to the aid of the starving and science did its utmost to stay the ravages of the plague. The famine of 1897 was followed in 1900 by another of equal gravity. Lack of rain caused a failure of the crops, a condition which could have but one effect in that overcrowded agricultural country, the people of a wide district being left without food. The war in South Africa interfered with British efforts for the relief of the destitute, but earnest efforts were made, and at one time as many as 6,000,000 of the starving people were being fed. Fortunately, there succeeded a season of copious rainfall, and the stringency of the dreadful situation was greatly relieved. CHAPTER XVIII. Thiers, Gambetta, and the Rise of the French Republic. IT has been already told how the capitulation of the French army at Sedan and the captivity of Louis Napoleon were followed in Paris by the overthrow oi the empire and the formation of a republic, the third in the history of French political changes. A provisional government was formed, the legislative assembly v. olved, and all the court parapher- nalia of the imperial establishment disappeared. the new ,......, , . ., A Provisional government was called in rans the Government of Lawyers, Government most of its members and officials belonging to that profession. At its head was General Trochu, in command of the army in Paris; among its chief members were Jules Favre and Gambetta. While upright in its membership and honorable in its purposes, it was an arbitraiy body, formed by a coup d'etat like that by which Napoleon had seized the reins of power, and not destined lor a long existence. The news of the fall of Metz and the surrender of Bazaine and his army served as a fresh spark to the inflammable public feeling of Fra In Paris the Red Republic raised the banner of insurrection against the government of the national defence and endeavored to revive the spirit of the Commune of 1793. The insin 1 to the . , 1 1 , 1 • ,• ■ • 1 -i Excitement in senate-house, demanded the election ol a municipal council i> ar j S which should share power with the government, and pro- ce< ded to imprison Trochu, Jules Favre, ami their associates. This, however, was hut a temporary success of the Commune, and the provisional government 'continued in existence until the end of tl dien a national assembly was elected by the people and the temporary government was set aside. Gambetta, the dictator, " the organizer of defeats," as he was sarcastically entitled, lost his power, and the aged statesman and historian, Louis Thiers, was chosen as chief of the executive department of the new government. The treaty of pi ace with France, including, as it did, the loss of Alsace and Lorraine ami the payment of an indemnity of $1,000,000,000, roused once more the fierce passions of the radicals and the masses of the great 277 278 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC cities, who passionately denounced the treaty as due to cowardice and treason. The dethroned emperor added to the excitement by a manifesto, in which he protested against his deposition by the assembly and called for a fresh election. The final "incitement to insurrection came when the assembly decided to hold its sessions at Versailles instead of in Paris, whose unruly populace it feared. In a moment all the revolutionary elements of the great city were in a blaze. The social democratic " Commune," elected from the central com- mittee of the National Guard, renounced obedience to the government and the National Assembly, and broke into open revolt. An Outbreak of the , -, , . . . . . Commune attempt to repress the movement only added to its violence, and all the riotous populace of Paris sprang to arms. A new war was about to be inaugurated in that city which had just suffered so severely from the guns of the Germans, and around which German troops were still encamped. The government had neglected to take possession of the cannon on Montmartre ; and now, when the troops of the line, instead of firing on the insurrectionists, went over in crowds to their side, the supremacy over Paris fell into the hands of the wildest demagogues. A fearful civil war com- menced, and in the same forts which the Germans had shortly before evacuated firing once more resounded; the houses, gardens, and villages around Paris were again surrendered to destruction, and the creations of art, industry, and civilization, and the abodes of wealth and pleasure were once more transformed into dreary wildernesses. The wild outbreaks of fanaticism on the part of the Commune recalled the scenes of the revolution of 1789, and in these spring days of 1871 Paris added another leaf to its long history of crime and violence. The insur- gents, roused to fury by the efforts of the government to suppress them, murdered two generals, Lecomte and Thomas, and fired on the unarmed citizens who, as the "friends of order," desired a reconcilia- Outrages of the . . . . . . . , 7 ... „,. , . Insurgents tlon wltri the authorities at Versailles. 1 hey formed a govern- ment of their own, extorted loans from wealthy citizens, confiscated the property of religious societies, and seized and held as hostages Archbishop Darboy and many other distinguished clergymen and citizens. Meanwhile the investing troops, led by Marshal MacMahon, gradually fought their way through the defences and into the suburbs of the city, and the surrender of the anarchists in the capital became inevitable. This necessity excited their passions to the most violent extent, and, with the wild fury of savages, they set themselves to do all the damage to the historical THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC 279 monuments of Paris they could. The noble Vend6me column, the syn i)f the warlike renown of France, was torn down from its pedestal and hurled prostrate in the street. The most historic buildings in the city were 1 lire, and either partially or entirely destroyed. Among these were the Tuileries, a portion of the Louvre, the Luxembourg, the Palais Royal, the Elysee, etc. ; wh ral of the imprisoned hostagi most among them Darboy, Archbishop of Paris, and the universally ted minister Daguerry, wi ■■ by the infuriated mob. Such crimes excited tl sailles troops to terrible vengeance, when they at last succeeded in repi ing the rebellion. They w ir way along a bloody course ; human life was counted as nothing; the streets were stained with blood and strewn with corpses, and the Seim nore ran red between its banks. When :it last the Commune surrendered, the judicial courts at Ver- ... . , . . r .. ,.,. , , , . Punishment (if sailles began their work of retribution. 1 he 1 nul parti- the Commune cipators in the rebellion who could not save themselves by Right were shot by hundreds, confined in forti nsported to the colonies. For more than a year the imprisonments, trials, and executions continued, military courts being i tied which excited the world for months by their wholesale condemnations to exile and to death. carnival of anarchy was followed by one of pitiless revenge. The Republican government of France, which had been accepted in an emergency, was far from carrying with it the support of the whole of the assembly or of the people, and the aged, but active and keen-witted Thiers had to steer through a medlej of opposing interests and sentiments. His government was considered, alike by the Monarchists and the Jacobin only provisional, and the Bourbons and Napoleonists on the one hand and the advocates of " liberty, equality and fraternity " on the other, intrig for its overthrow. But the German armies still remained on French soil, [lending the payment of the costs of the war; and the astute chief of the live power moderation enough to pacify the passions of the people, to restrain their hatred of the Germans, which was so boldly exhibited in the streets and in the courts of justice, and to quiet the clai for a war of revenge. The position of parties at home- was confu 1 distracted, and a disturbance of the existing order could only lead to anarchy and civil war. Thiers was thus the indispensable man of the moment, and so p res j ucllt much was he himself impressed by consciousness of this fact, Thiers and that he many times, by the threat of resignation, brought the UieAssembly opposing elements in the assembly to harmony and compliance. This uccurred even during the siege of Paris, when the forces of tin- government 280 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC were in conflict with the Commune. In the assembly there was shown an inclination to moderate or break through the sharp centralization of the government, and to procure some autonomy for the provinces and towns. When, therefore, a new scheme was discussed, a large part of the assembly demanded that the mayors should not, as formerly, be appointed by the government, but be elected by the town councils. Only with difficulty was Thiers able to effect a compromise, on the strength of which the government was permitted the right of appointment for all towns numbering over twenty thousand. In the elections for the councils the Moderate Republicans proved triumphant. With a supple dexterity, Thiers knew how to steer between the Democratic-Republican party and the Monarchists. When Gambetta endea- vored to establish a " league of Republican towns," the attempt was forbidden as illegal ; and when the decree of banishment against the Bourbon and Orlean princes was set aside, and the latter returned to France, Thiers knew how to postpone the entrance of the Due d'Aumale and Prince de Joinville, who had been elected deputies, into the assembly, at least until the end of the year. The brilliant success of the national loan went far to strengthen the position of Thiers. The high offers for a share in this loan, which indi- cated the inexhaustible wealth of the nation and the solid credit of France abroad, promised a rapid payment of the war indemnity, the consequent evacuation of the country by the German army of occupation, and a restoration of the disturbed finances of the state. The foolish manifesto of the Count de Chambord, who declared that he had only to return with the white banner to be made sovereign of France, brought all reasonable and practical men to the side of Thiers, and he had, during the last days of August, 1871, the triumph of being pro- claimed " President of the French Republic." The new president aimed, next to the liberation of the garrisoned provinces from the German troops of occupation, at the reorganization of the French army. Yet he could not bring himself to the decision of enforc- ing in its entirety the principle of general armed service, such as had raised Prussia from a state of depression to one of military regeneration. Universal military service in France was, it is true, adopted in name, and the army was increased to an immense extent, but under such conditions and limitations that the richer and more educated classes could exempt themselves from service in the army ; and thus the active forces, as before, consisted of pro- fessional soldiers. And when the minister for education, Jules Simon, introduced an educational law based on liberal principles, he experienced en the part of the clergy and their champion, Bishop Dupanloup, such violent opposition, that the government dropped the measure. DREYFUS. HIS ACCUSERS AND DEFENDERS Lawyer I.abori ; Henry, ihe team* THE DREYFUS TRIAL Dreyfus in tne a err or declaring " / am Innocem. THE RISE OF THE TRENCH REPUBLIC 283 In order to place the army in the condition which Thiers de Increase in the military budget was necessary, and con ntly an bancement of the general revenues of the state. For this purpose a return to the tariff system, which had been abolished under the empire, was pro- posed, but excited so great an opposition in the assembly that six months passed before it could be carried. The new Re< * r & an ization 1 • ot tlle Armv >rganization of the army, undertaken with a view of placing France on a level in military strength with her late conqueror, was now sagerly undertaken by the president. An active army, with five \ service, was to b ! to a "territorial army," a kind of militia. And so was the demand on the portion of the n ipable of 1 arms :hat the new French army ed in numbers that of any other nation. Bui all the statesmanship of Thiers coul ivercomi larchy in nbly, where th< 1 for monarchy and republicanism were bit- erly opposed to each other. Gambetta, in order to rou W. • r c , , , Gambetta as ic opinion in tavor 01 democracy, mad :ral tours a n Agitator hrough the country, his extra' ol Ian giving lei p offence to the monarchists, while the opposed sections of the assembly rrew wider and more violent in their breach. Indisputabli re the valuable services which Thiers had rendered to "ranee, by the foundation of public order and authority, the creation of a egular army, and the restoration of a solid financial s\ lervices met with no recognition in the face of the party j and politi- :al passions prevailing among the people's representatives at Versail Uore and more did the Royalist reaction gain ground, and, aided by the iriests and by national hatred and prejudice, endeavor to bring about the lestruction of its opponents. Against the Radicals and Liberals, among vhom even the Voltairean Thiers was included, superstition and fanaticism vere let loose, and against I lapartists was directed the terrorism of ourt mani.d. The French could not r t with the thought that their mili- ary supremacy had been broken by the superiority of the Prusso-German irms ; their defeats could have proceeded only from the treachery or incapa- ity of their leaders. To this national prejudice the Government decided bow, and to offer a sacrifia to the popular passion. And thus the world •eheld the lamentable spec: mmanders who had Trial and Con- urrendered the French fort to the enemy being sub- demnation of ! to a trial I -martial under the presidency of Mar- the (,enerals hal Baraguay d'Hilliers, and the majority of them, on nt of their roved incapacity or weakm irived of their military honors, at a mo- nent when all had cause to reproach themselves and endeavor to raise up a 284 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC new structure on the ruins of the past. Even Ulrich, the once celebrated commander of Strasburo- whose name had been given to a street in Paris, was brought under the censure of the court-martial. But the chief blow fell upon the commander-in-chief of Metz, Marshal Bazaine, to whose "treachery" the whole misfortune of France was attributed. For months he was retained a prisoner at Versailles, while preparations were made for the great court-martial spectacle, which, in the following year, took place under the presidency of the Due d'Aumale. The result of the party division in the assembly was, in May, 1873, a vote of censure on the ministry which induced them to resign. Their resig- nation was followed by an offer of resignation on the part of Thiers, who MacMahon experienced the unexpected slight of having it accepted by Elected the majority of the assembly, the monarchist MacMahon, Marshal of France and Duke of Magenta, being elected President in his place. Theirs had just performed one of his greatest ser- vices to France, by paying off the last installment of the war indemnity and relieving the soil of his country of the hated German troops. The party now in power at once began to lay plans to carry out their cherished purpose of placing a Legitimist king upon the throne, this honor being offered to the Count de Chambord, grandson of Charles X. He, an old man, unfitted for the thorny seat offered him, and out of all accord with The Count d t ^ le s P' r ' t °^ tne t> mes . P ut a sudden end to the hopes of his Chambord partisans by his mediaeval conservatism. Their purpose was to and His establish a constitutional government, under the tri-colored flag of revolutionary France ; but the old Bourbon gave them to under- stand that he would not consent to reign under the Tricolor, but must remain steadfast to the white banner of his ancestors ; he had no desire to be "the legitimate king of revolution." This letter shattered the plans of his supporters. No man with ideas like these would be tolerated on the French throne. There was never to be in France a King Henry V. The Monarchists, in disgust at the failure of their schemes, elected MacMahon president of the republic for a term of seven years, and for the time being the reign of republicanism in France was made secure. While MacMahon was thus being raised to the pinnacle of honor, his former comrade Bazaine was imprisoned in another part of the palace at Trial and Sen= Versailles, awaiting trial on the charge of treason for the sur- tenceof render of Metz. In the trial, in which the whole world took a deep interest, the efforts of the prosecution were directed to prove that the conquest of France was solely due to the treachery of the THE RISE OF Til!-: FRENC 11 REPUBLH 285 ponapartist marshal. 1> ipite all that could I ' in his . he was found guilty by the court-martial, sentenced to degradation from his rank in the army, and to he put to death. A letter which Prince Frederick Charles wrote in his favor only added to the wrath of tin; people', who cried aloud for his execution. But, as though the judges themselves felt a twinge of conscience at the sentence, t In y at lib- same time signed a petition for pardon to the president of the republic. MacMahon thereupon commuted the punishment of death into a jrwenty years' imprisonment, remitted the disgrace of the formalin military degradation, without cancelling its operation, and appointed as the prisoner's place of confinement the fortess on the island of St. Marguerite, opposite Cannes, known in connection with the "iron mask." Bazaine's wealth}' Mexican wife obtained permission to reside near him, with her fam- ily and servants, in a pavilion of th This afforded her an op- portunity of bringing about the freedom of her husband in the following year with the aid of her brother. After an adventurous escape, by letting himself down with a rope to a Geni :ssel, Bazaine lied to Holland, and then offered his services to the Republican government of Spain. In 1875 the constitution under which France is now governed was adopted by the republicans. It provides for a legislature of two chamb jjne a chamber of deputies elected by the people, the other a of 300 members, 75 of whom are elected by the- National Assembly The New Con- and the others by electoral colleges in the departments of stitution of France. The two chambers unite to elect a president, who " ra "ce has a term of seven years, lb- is commander-in-chief of the army, appoints all officers, receives all ambassadors, executes the laws, and appoints the cabinet, which is responsible to the Senate and House of Deputies, — thus resembline- thecabii rreat Britain instead of that of the United St This constitution was soon ignored by the arbitrary president, who forced the resignation of a cabinet which he could not control, ami repl; it by another responsible to himself instead of to th mbly. His act. >f autocracy roused a violent opposition. Gambetta moved that the repre- sentatives of the people had no confidence in a cabinet which was not in its actions and not Republican in its principles. The sudden death of Thiers, whose last writing was a defence ot the republic, MacMahon stirred the heart of the nation and added to the excitement, KcsiRtisand which soon reached fever heat. In the election that followed 0rey y ecte the Republicans were in so great a majority over the Conservatives that tin- president was compelled r to resign or 1 rn according to the constitution. He accepted the latter and appointed a cabinet composed 286 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC of Republicans. But the acts of the legislature, which passed laws to pre vent arbitrary action by the executive and to secularize education, so exasperated the old soldier that he finally resigned from his high office. Jules Grevy was elected president in his place, and Gambetta was made president of the House of Deputies. Subsequently he was chosen presiding minister in a cabinet composed wholly of his own creatures. His Gambetta as career in this high office was a brief one. The Chambers Prime riin= refused to support him in his arbitrary measures and he resigned in disgust. Soon after the self-appointed dictator, who had played so prominent a part in the war with Germany, died from a wound whose origin remained a mystery. The constitution was revised in 1884, the republic now declared per- manent and final, and Grevy again elected president. General Boulanger, the minister of war in the new government, succeeded in making himself highly popular, many looking upon him as a coming Napoleon, by whose genius the republic would be overthrown. In 1887 Grevy resigned, in consequence of a scandal in high circles, and was succeeded by Sadi Carnot, grandson of a famous general of the first republic. Under the new president two striking events took place. General Boulanger managed to lift himself into great promi- e areer o nence, and gain a powerful following- in France. Carried Boulanger & .... away by self-esteem, he defied his superiors, and when tried and found guilty of the offence, was strong enough in France to overthrow the ministry, to gain re-election to the Chamber of Deputies, and to defeat a second ministry. But his reputation was declining. It received a serious blow by a duel he fought with a lawyer, in which the soldier was wounded and the lawyer escaped unhurt. The next cabinet was hostile to his intrigues, and he fled to Brussels to escape arrest. Tried by the Senate, sitting as a High Court of Jus- tice, he was found guilty of plotting against the state and sentenced to imprison- ment for life. His career soon after ended in suicide and his party dis- appeared. The second event spoken of was the Panama Canal affair. De Lesseps, the maker of the Suez Canal, had undertaken to excavate a similar one across the Isthmus of Panama, but the work was managed with such wild extravagance that vast sums were spent and the poor in- l ?t ma , . vestors widely ruined, while the canal remained a half-dug Canal Scandal J & ditch. At a later date this affair became a great scandal, dishonest bargains in connection with it were abundantly unearthed, bribery was shown to have been common in high places, and France was shaken THE RISE OF THE FRENCH RL . to its centre by the startling exposure. I'" Lesseps, fortunately for him, escaped by death, but others ol the leaders in the enterprisi con- demned and punished. In the s ling year Is manifold threatened I if the French republic. A moral decline apped the foundations of public virtue, and the new military organization rose to a dangerous height of power, becoming a monster of ambition anil iniquity which i shadowed and portended evil to the state The spirit of anarchy, which had been so strikingly displayed in the of the Parisian ° ' . Anarchy in nmune, was shown later in various instam leath and Franceand destruction by the use of dynamite bombs, exploded in Paris Murder of ... n • i • i -i the President and elsewhere, hut its most striking example was in the murder of President Carnot, who was stabbed by an anarchist in the streets of Lyons. This assassination, and the disheartening exposures of dishon- est) in the Panama Canal Case trials, stirred the moral sentiment of France to its depths, and made many of the best citizens despair of the perma- nency of the republic. But the most alarming threat came, from the army, which had grown in power and pr until it fairly overtopped the state, while iders felt competent to set at defiano ivil authorities. This tic army was an < iutgn »wth of the Franco-Prussian war. The terrible punishment v. the French had received in that war, and in particular the loss of Al and Lorraine, filled them with bitter hatred of Germany and The K a burning desire for Yet it was evident that their zatlon ••? military organization was so imperfect as to them help- * e " rm > less before the army of Germany, and the first thing to be done was to place themselves >^\ a level in military strengh with their foe. To thi -lent Thiers had ly devoted himself, and the work of army o ition went on until all France was virtually converted into by powerful fori and the whole of the country wen cally made part and portion of the army. The final result of this pment of one of th and well-appointed military establishments in Eur The immediate, of the reorganization of the army gradually passed away. As time went on the intense feelir many softened ami th< war decreased. Hut tin: army became more and more dominant in France, and, as the century neared its end,, the autocratic position of its leaders was revealed by a startling event, which showed vividly to the world the moral decadence of France and the controlling influence and dominating : the members of the General Staff. This was the celebrated Dreyfus 16 288 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC Case, the cause celebre of the end of the century. This case is of such im- portance that a description of its salient points becomes here necessary. Albert Dreyfus, an Alsatian Jew and a captain in the Fourteenth Regi- ment of Artillery of the French army, detailed for service at the Informa- The Opening txon Bureau of the Minister of War, was arrested October 15, of the Drey= 1 894, on the charge of having sold military secrets to a for- eign power. The following letter was said to have been found at the German embassy by a French detective, in what was declared to be the handwriting of Dreyfus : " Having no news from you I do not know what to do. I send you in the meantime the condition of the forts. I also hand you the principal in- structions as to firing. If you desire the rest I shall have them copied. The document is precious. The instructions have been given only to the officers of the General Staff. I leave for the manoeuvres." For some time prior to the arrest of Dreyfus on the charge of being the author of this letter, M. Drumont, editor of the Libre Parole, had been carrying on a violent anti-Semitic agitation through his journal. He raved about the Jews in general, declared Dreyfus guilty, and asserted that there was danger that he would be acquitted through the potent Juiverie, "the cosmopolite syndicate which exploits France." Public opinion in Paris became much influenced by this journalistic as- sault, and under these circumstances Dreyfus was brought to trial before a military court, found guilty and condemned to be degraded from his mili- tary rank, and by a special act of the Chamber of Deputies was ordered to be imprisoned for life in a penal settlement on Devil's Island, off the coast of French Guiana, a tropical region, desolate and malarious in character. The sentence was executed with the most cruel harshness. During part of his de- tention Dreyfus was locked in a hut, surrounded by an iron cage, on the island. This was done on the plea of possible attempts at rescue. He was allowed to send and receive only such letters as had been transcribed by one of his guardians. He denied, and never ceased to deny, his guilt. The letters he wrote to his counsel after the trial and after his disgrace are most pathetic asser- tions of his innocence, and of the hope that ultimately justice would be done him. His wife and family continued to deny his guilt, and used every influ- ence to get his case reopened. The first trial of Dreyfus was conducted by court-martial and behind closed doors. Some parts of the indictment were not communicated to the accused and his lawyer. The secrecy of the trial, the lack of fairness in its management, his own protestations of innocence, the anti-Jewish feeling, THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC and ihe imenl in the affair aroused a stro that Dreyfus, being a Jew, had been i a scapi >me om and had been unjustly convicted. Many eminent literary men Ik .| icf in the of France, md even M. Scheurer-Kestner, a vice president of innocence the Senate none of them Jews -eventually advocated the ntence which failed to appeal to the sense of ju : the best element of France. It was asserted by some that Dreyfus had sold the plans of various strongly fortified places to the German government, and by others that the sale had been to the Italian government. It was also said that he had dis- closed the plans for the mobilization of the French army in case of war, covering il departments, and especially the important fortre Briancon, the Alpine Gibraltar near the Italian frontier. The bordereau, the paper on which the chai D fus were based, was a memorandum of tr< lations concerning French military affairs. The dossier was the official en\ TheBordereau the papers relative to the case, whi< ed to and the be sufficient to prove the guilt of the accused officer. The bor- dereau was examined by fivi s in handwriting, only three of whom testi- fied that it could have been written by 1 )reyfus. The papers in the dossier were. ihown to Dreyfus or his counsel, so that it was impossible to refute them. In fact, the court-martial was conducted in the most unfair manner, and many me convinced that some disgraceful mystery lay behind it, and that Dreyfus had been made a sea Id some one higher in office. It was in the early part of 1898 that the case fit promi nently to public notice, after tl of the unfortunate prisoner had, with the most earnest devotion for th btain for him a new trial. Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart, in charge ol tin service bureau at Paris, became familiar through his official duties with the famous case, and was struck with the. similarity 1 the handwritin the 1 eau and that of Count Ferdinand Esterhazy, an ol f the French army and a descendant of tl known izy , TI ., \ t ill, r- The Accusation family of Hungary. Shortly afterwards M. : ter fEsterhazy declared that military secrets had continue.: I after the arrest of Dr \ fus, that in 1 rich and titled officer had requested to resign, and that thi author of the bor- dereau. This man was Count Esterhazy, whose exposure was due t,> Picquart's fortunate ivery. Oth >k up this accusation, and the affair was so ventilated that was subjected trial by irt-martial, which ended in an acquittal. 290 THE RISE OE THE FRENCH REPUBLIC At the close of the Esterhazy trial a new defender of Dreyfus stepped into the fray, Emile Zola, the celebrated novelist. He wrote an open letter to M. Faure, then President of France, entitled " J "accuse" ("I accuse"), Zola's Letter which was published in the Aurore newspaper. In it he boldly and Accusa- charged that Esterhazy had been acquitted by the members of the court-martial on the order of their chiefs in the minis- try of war, who were anxious to show that French military justice could not possibly make an error. This letter led to the arrest and trial of Zola and the manager of the paper, their trial being conducted in a manner specially designed to prevent the facts from becoming known. They were found guilty of libel against the officers of the court-martial and sentenced to heavy fines and one year's imprisonment. On appeal, they were tried again in the same unfair way, and received the same sentence. Zola took care, by absenting himself from France, that the sentence of a year's imprisonment should not be executed. As time went on new evidence became revealed. Colonel Henry, who was one of the witnesses in the Zola trial, was confronted with a damaging fact, one of the most important papers in the secret dossier being traced to Henry's For- nun - He confessed that he had forged it to strengthen the geryand case against Dreyfus, was imprisoned for the offence, and committed suicide in Jiis cell — or was murdered, as some thought. Picquart was punished by being sent to Africa, and afterwards imprisoned. He made the significant remark that if he should be found dead in his cell it would not be a case of suicide. Esterhazy was said to have acknowledged to a London editor that he was the author of the bor- dereau, and it was proved that the handwriting was identical with his and the paper on which it was written a peculiar kind which he had used in 1894. The papers in the secret dossier were also alleged to be a mass of forgeries. The great publicity of this case, in which the whole world had taken interest, — the action of the French courts being universally condemned, — and the development of the facts just mentioned, at length goaded the officials of the French government to action. President Faure had the case con- sidered by the cabinet, and finally forced a revision. In consequence the cabinet resigned and a new one was chosen. As a result the case was brought before the Court of Cassation, the final court of appeal, which, after full consideration, ordered a new trial of the condemned officer. Captain Dreyfus was accordingly brought from Devil's Island, and on July 1, 1899, reached the city of Rennes, where the new court-martial was THE BOMBARDMENT OF ALEXANDRIA ii „ f i„fcs P«»h« for Ihe expulsion ol Ihe baled British from tbeti counnry, cfence, and the city ten mio i ...ns in their retreat- BATTLE BETWEEN THE ENGLISH AND THE ZULUS, SOUTH AFRICA °' a rt l M ,h „ e „. n h , ir i '; S , enCO ,'i ntered b> j' h u- Eptishin Africa ' ,here were none more krave and daring than the Zulu, of the South, who v»li»n?hhV! ! ' Pear i M ',", C t hargC aga ' nst ,he death dealin S rifies "f their f °« Cetewavo, the leader of these h» V™, 11 "7!.? man . ^v Uld hav ? be , en a hero in civilized warfare. As a captive savage in London streets he compelled the respect of his enem.es bv the maie.tic dienitv of his he»rin„ L „„ ,h, rt»ht .„ r».„™ 77//;' RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC to be held. It is not n ry to repeat the evidence given in this trial, which lasted from August 7th to September 7th, and with which ti is sufficiently familiar. It will suffice to say that the evidence against Drey- fus was of the most shadowy and uncertain character, being largely conjec- tures and opinionsof army officers, and seemed insufficient to convict a criminal for the smallest offence before an equitable court ; that the evidence in his favor was of the strongest character; that the proceedings a Second : of the loos icription ; that much favorable evidence Condemna- was ruled out by the judges, the presiding judge throughout ,on showing a bias against the accused ; and that the trial ended in a conviction of the prisoner, l>y a vote of five judges to two, the verdict being the ex- traordinary one of "guilt\- of treason, with extenuating circumstances" — as if any 1 1 could lie extenuated. This is but an outline sketch of this remarkable which embraced many circumstances favorable to Dreyfus which we have not had space to give. The verdict was received by the world outside of France with universal astonishment and condemnation, ddie opinion was everywhere expressed that not a particle of incriminating evidence had been adduced, and that the members of the court-martial had acted virtually under the commands of their superior officers, who held that the "honor of the army" demanded a conviction. Dreyfus was thought by many to have been made a victim to shield certain criminals of high importance in the army, which so dominated French opinion that the great bulk of the people pro- nounced in favor of the sacrifice of this innocent victim to the Moloch of the French military system. It was widely 'f . or } J Opinion felt in foreign lands that the great development of mili- tarism in France, and the vast influence of the general staff of the army, formed a threatening feature of the governmental system, which might at any time overthrow the republic and form a military empire upon its ruins. Two republics have already been brought to an end in France through the supremacy of the army, and the safety of the third is far from assured. The Dreyfus case has thrown a flood of light upon the volcanic condition of affairs in France. The general condemnation of this example of French "justice" by the press of other nations, and very probably the recognition by the governing powers of France of the inadequacy of the evidence led, shortly after the conclusion of the court-martial, to the pardon of the con- demned, ddie sentence of the court in no si *1 his | 1 he- fore the world, he being looked upon everywhere outside of France as a victim of injustice instead of a criminal. The severity of his imprisonment 294 THE RISE OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC however, had seriously affected his health, and threatened to bring his life to an end before he could obtain the justice which he proposed to seek in the courts of France. This remarkable case, which made an obscure officer of the French army the most talked-of and commiserated man among all the peoples of the earth, at the end of the nineteenth century, is of further interest from the light it throws upon the legal system of France as compared with that of Anglo-Saxon nations. Dreyfus, it is true, was tried by court-martial, but the procedure was similar to that of the ordinary French courts, in which trial by jury does not exist, the judge having the double function of deciding upon the guilt or innocence of the accused and passing sentence ; while efforts are made to induce the prisoner to incriminate himself which would be considered utterly unjust in British and American legal practice. The French legal system is a direct descendant of that of ancient Rome. The British one represents a new development in legal methods. Doubtless both have their advantages, but the Dreyfus trial seems to indicate that the sys< tern of France opens the way to acts of barbarous injustice. CHAPTER XIX. Paul Kruger and the Struggle for Dominion in South Africa. AT the close "1 the nineteenth century, not the least important among the international questions that were disturbing the nations was the controversy between the English and the Boers in South Africa, concerning" the political privileges of the Uitlanders, or foreign gold miners of the Transvaal. A consideration of this subject obliges us to go back to the beginning oi the century and review the whole history of coloniza tion in South Africa. That region belongs by right of settlement to the Dutch, who found.-.', a colony in the region of Capetown as early as 1650, and in the succeeding century and a half spread far and wide over settlement in the territory, their farms and cattle ranches occupying a very South Africa wide are, 1. The first interference with their peaceful occupation came in 1795, when the English took possession. In 1800, however, they restored the colony to Holland, which held it in peaceable ownership until the Con- gress of Vienna, in 1815, came to disturb the map of Europe, and in a meas- ure that of the world. As part of the distribution of spoils among the great nations. Cape Colony was ceded to Great Britain. Since then that countrv, which has a ''feat faculty of taking hold and a very • ,-,•,,,; ■ ,, j Ore"* Britain In poor faculty oi letting go, has held possi ssion, and has pushed capeColony steadily northward until British South Africa is now a terri- andtheEml- tory ^i enormous extent, stretching northward to the borders h™.,!"" " of the Congo Free Stat.- and to Lake Tanganyika. This vast territory has not been gained without active and persistent aggn ssion, from which the Dutch settlers, known as Boers, and the African natives have alike suffered. In truth, the Boers found the oppression of British rule an intolerable burden early in the century, and in 1S40 a great party of them gave up their farms and " treked " northward —that is, traveled with their ox -teams and belonging ;et away from British con- trol. Here they founded a republic of their own on the river Vaul, and settled down again to peace and prosperity 296 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA The country in which they settled was a huntsman's paradise. On the great plains of the High Veldt or plateau (from 4,000 to 7,000 feet in height) antelopes of several species roamed in tens of thousands. In the valleys and plains of the low country the giraffe, elephant, A Huntsman's Du ff a i lion and other lame animals were plentiful. The Paradise . ° . rivers were full of alligators and hippopotami. Here the new- comers found abundance of food, and a land of such pastoral wealth that the farm animals they brought increased abundantly. For years a steady stream of Boers continued to enter and settle in this land, deserting their farms in the British territory, harnessing their cattle to their long, lumber- ing wagons, and bringing with them food for the journey, and a good supply of powder and lead for use in their tried muskets. Their active hunting experience brought them in time to rank among the best marks- men in the world. They had not alone wild animals to deal with, but wild men as well. Fierce tribes of natives possessed the land, and with these the Boers were soon at war. A number of sanguinary battles were fought, with much The Boers slaughter on both sides, but in the end the black men were Drive Out forced to give way to the whites and cross the Limpopo River into Matabeleland, to the north, which their descendants still occupy. Others of the natives were subdued and continued to live with the Boers. The latter were essentially pioneers. They did not till the soil, but divided up the land into great grazing ran p- es covered with their r 0000' abundant herds. And they had no instinct for trade, what little commerce the country possessed falling into British hands. Two settlements were made, one between the Orange and the Vaal rivers, and the other north of the Vaal. The former had much trouble with the British previous to 1854, in which year it was given its indepen- dence. It is known as the Orange River Free State. The latter was given The South Afri- tne name OI Transvaal, and originally formed four separate can Republic republics, but in i860 these united into one under the title of the South African Republic. The settlers were for a time covered with the shadow of British sovereignty, the claims of the British extending up to the 25th degree of latitude. But this claim was only on paper, and in 1852 it was withdrawn, Great Britain formally renouncing all rights over the country north of the Vaal. And for years afterwards the Boers lived on here free and undisturbed. But their country possessed other wealth than that of pasture lands, and its hidden treasures were to yield them no end of trouble in the years to come. Under their soil lay untold riches, which in time brought PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN S0UTL1 AFR1 297 s of unruly strangers to disturb their pastoral peace The trouble in in 1867, -when diamonds were found in the vicinity of the Vaal River, and a rush ol miners began to invade this remote district. But the diamond mines lay west of the borders of the Th ® ™ scove, "y of Diamonds Transvaal, and brought rather a threatening situation than immediate disturbance to the Boer state. It was the later discovery of gold on Transvaal territory' that eventually overthrew the quiet content of the pastoral community. In 1877 the first intrusion came. The British were now abundant in Griqualand West, the diamond region, and on the Transvaal borders lay a host of native enemies, chief among them being the warlike Zulus, led by the bold and daring Cetewayo. Only fear of the British kept this truculent chief at rest. Meanwhile thi Republic had fallen into a financial collapse. Its frequent wars with the natives had ex- hausted its revenues and thrown it deeply into A SnepstoIle ' S serious crisis seemed impending. On the plea ol preventing Annexation of this, Sir Theophilus 5 e, secretary of Natal, made his the Transvaal way to Pretoria, the capital of the republic, and issued a proclamation annexing the Transvaal country to Great Britain. The public treasury he found to be almost empty, it containing only I .hillings and six pence, and even part of this was counterfeit coin. His act was arbitrary and unwar- ranted, and while the- Boers submitted, they did so with sullen anger, quietly biding their time. In the following year the Zulus, who hid been threatening the I; broke out into war with the British, and with such 1 iutes were at first repulsed by the impetuous Cetewayo and his warlike followers. In this onset Prince Napoleon, son of the d I emperor Louis Xapo- leon, who served as a volunteer in the British ranks, was killed. '1 he British soon retrieved the disaster, and in the end decisively debated The2u | uWar the Zulus, capturing their king, who was taken as a prisoner to London. After the Zulu war Sii < ..irnet Wolseley led his troops into the Transvaal, telling the protestin ; that "solo the' sun shone and the Vaal River flowed to the sea the Transvaal would remain British terri- tory." Other acts of interference, and the attempt of the British officials to tax the Boers, added to their exasperation, and at the vnd of 1880 they resolved to fight for the independence of which they had been rob Wolseley had before this left the territory, and the troops had been redu to a few detachments, and tin 1 ',; first ho lion took place on December 20. 1880, a detachment of the Ninety-fourth regiment, on its march to Pretoria, being waylaid by a 293 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA body of about 150 armed Boers, who ordered them to stop. Colonel Ans- truther curtly replied : " I go to Pretoria ; do as you like:" The Boers did more than he liked. They closed in on his columns and Boers * opened on them so deadly a fire that the British fell at a fright- ful rate. Out of 259 in all, 155 had fallen dead or wounded in ten minutes' time. Then the colonel, himself seriously wounded, ordered a surrender, and the Boers at once became as friendly as they had just been hostile. They had lost only two killed and five wounded. As soon as news of this disaster reached Natal, Colonel Sir George Colley, in command at Natal, marched against the Boers without waiting for reinforcements, the force at his disposal being but 1,200 men. He paid dearly for his temerity and contempt of the enemy. On January 28, 1881, he was encountered by the Boers at a place called Lang's Nek, and met with a bloody defeat. In about a week afterwards another engagement took place, in which the British lost 139 officers and men, while the whole Boer loss was 14. Practised hunters, their fire was so deadly that almost every shot found its mark. The war was going badly for the British. It was soon to go worse. Receiving reinforcements, Colley made a stand in an elevated position known as Majuba Hill, whose summit was 2,000 feet above the positions held by the Boers and its ascent so steep and rugged that the Majuba Hill soldiers had to climb it in single file. Near the top of the ascent the grassy slopes were succeeded by boulders, crags, and loose stones, over which the weary men had to drag themselves on hands and knees. In this way about 400 men gained the summit on the morning of February 27th. The top of the hill was a saucer-shaped plateau, about 1,200 yards wide, with an elevated rim within which the British were posted. The place seemed impregnable, but the daring Boers did not hesitate in the attack. A force of the older men were detailed to keep on the watch below — picked shots ready to fire on any soldier who should appear on the rim of the hill. The younger men began to climb the slopes, under cover of the shrub and stones. The assault was made on every side, and the defenders, too weak in numbers to hold the whole edge of the plateau, had to be moved from point to point to meet and attempt to thwart the attacks of the Boers. Slowly and steadily the hostile skirmishers clambered upwards from cover to cover, while the supports below protected their movement with a steady and accurate fire. During the hours from dawn to noon the British did not suffer very heavily, notwithstanding the accuracy of the Boer marksmanship. But the long strain of the Boers' close shooting began to tell on the morale of PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN // AFR/< theBriti h oldiers, and win t the enemy at length reached tl ned a deadl) liort range the officers had to exert themselves to the inmost in th< to avert disaster. Tin stationed in the central di the plateau, out of reach until then of the enemy's Tire, were ordered up in support of the fighting line. Their want of promptitude in obeying this did not augur well r reaching the front they wavered, and then v. The officers temporarily succeeded in rallying them, but the 'bolt" had a bad effect. To use the expression of an eye-witness, a "funk ne established." It was struggled against very gallantly by tin- officers, who d and ver in hand, aged tin: soldiers byword and by action. A num- tinable to confront the deadly fire of the Boers, had hud. for cover behind the rocky reef crossing the plateau, and no The Bocrs entr upbraiding on the part of their officers would Storm the induce them to face- the enemy. What then happened one 8 mp not care to tell in detail. Everything connected with this disastrous enterprise went to naught, as if there had keen a curs.- on it. Whatever may have been the object intended, the force employed was absurdly inade- quate. Instead vi being homogeneous, it consisted of separate detach- ments with no link or bond of union — a disposition of troops which notoriously has led to more panics than any other cause that the annals of regimental his- tory can furnish. Fragments of proud and distinguished regiments fresh from victory on another continent shared in the panic of the Majuba, med warriors behaving no better than mere recruits. To the calm- 1 philosopher a panic is an academic enigma. No man who has it — much less shared in it — can e\ et the infectious madness of panic- stricken sokh> In the sad ending, witli a cry of fright and despair tin- remnants of the hapl'-ss l^rn: turned and fled, regardless of the efforts of the officers to stem the rearward rush. Sir I olley lay dead, shot through the head just before the final flight. A surgeon ami two hospital attendants caring for the wounded at the bandaging place in the dip of the plateau were shot down, probably inadvertently. The elder iho 'iio'-r-, " Boers promptly stopped the tiring in that direction. But there wa ssation of the tire directed on the fugitives. < >n them the bullets rained accurately and persistently. The Boers, now disdaining :-. stood boldly on ; the plateau, and, firing down upon the scared troops, picked off the men as if shooting game. The slaughter would have been yet heavier but for the entrenchment which had been made by the company of the Ninety-second, left overnight on the Xek. bet 3 oo PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH A ERICA the Inquela and the Majuba. Captain Robertson was joined at dawn from camp by a company of the Sixtieth, under Captain Thurlow. Later there arrived at the entrenchment on the Nek a troop of the Fifteenth Hussars, under the command of Captain Sullivan. After midday the sound of the firing on the Majuba rapidly increased, and men were seen running down the hill towards the laager, one of whom brought in the tidings that the Boers had captured the position, that most of the troops were killed or prisoners, and that the o-eneral was dead with a bullet through his head. Wounded men presently came pouring in, and were attended by Surgeon-Major Cornish. The laager was manned by the companies, and outposts were thrown out, which were soon driven in by large bodies of mounted Boers, under whose fire men fell fast Robertson dispatched the rifle company down the ravine towards the camp, and a little later followed with the company of the Ninety-second under a murderous fire from the Boers, who had reached and occupied the entrenchment. The Highlanders An -ci- u* l° st heavily in the retreat, and Surgeon-Major Cornish was A Panic Flight J ' ... killed. The surviving fugitives from Majuba and from the laager finally reached camp under cover of the artillery fire from it, which ultimately stopped the pursuit. With the consent of the Boer leaders a temporary hospital was established at a farm-house near the foot of the mountain, and throughout the cold and wet night the medical staff never ceased to search for and bring in the wounded. Sir George Colley's body was brought into camp on March ist, and buried there with full military honors. Of 650 officers and men who took part in this disastrous affair the loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners was 283 ; the Boers had one man killed and five wounded. Majuba Hill was enough for the British, fighting as they were in an unjust cause. An armistice was agreed upon, followed by a treaty of peace on March 23d. Large reinforcements had been sent out, which would have given the British an army of 20,000 against the 8,000 Peace Declared Boers capable of bearing arms ; but to fight longer in defence with British of an arbitrary invasion against such brave defenders of their homes and their rights, did not appeal to the conscience of Mr. Gladstone, and he lost no time in bringing the war to an end. By the terms of the treaty the Boers were left free to govern themselves as they would, they acknowledging the queen as suzerain of their country, with control of its foreign relations. The next important event in the history of the Transvaal was the ex- ploitation of its gold mines. Gold was discovered there soon after the open- ing of the diamond mines, but not under very promising conditions. It exists 3 ' *? u ^yj^^^^ * a • * to \ ' THE BATTLE OF MAJUBA HILL, BETWEEN THE ENGLISH AND BOERS. SOUTH AFRICA The greatest disaster ever experienced by the British in A . in the South African Rrpublic. In tn* war 3o8i with the B upied the flat i i, but was driven oat will tgbter The attempt the hill in tl Icsmen was simply a climb to death, ana »he ttay ended in a serious defeat for the invaders. PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE /.', .'/ AFRICA 303 : ntv by forty miles, and th 1 .1 depth ol from two I I ire the richness in metal of these rocks was discovered, The Gold Dte. and ii was not until after the Boer war that mining fairly glngsofthe an. No one in his wildest dreams foresaw that Transvaal "banket" beds would in time yield gold to the value of more than $80,000,- year. The yield of the diamond mines was also enormous, and tl two incitements brought a steady stream oi new si to that re destined before many years greatly to outnumber the sturdy fanners and herders of Dutch descent. In the vicinity ol the gold mines, not far from Pretoria, the Boer capi- tal, rose the mining city of Johannesburg, which now has a population of more than 100,000 souls, of whom hall are European miners and nearly all the remainder are natives. lh history of the md mines was the advent thither of Cecil Rhodes. This Cecil Rhodes remarkable man, the son of a countrj I .land, who was ordered to South Africa lor the !• f his failing lung lyed such enterprise and ability that he soon became the leading figure in the dia- amond mining industry, organizing a company that controlled the mines, and accumulating an immense fort' This accomplished, he I actively into South African politics, and was not long in immensely extending the dominion of Great Britain in that region of the earth. He ol from Lord Salisbury, prime minister of Great Britain, a royal charter giving him tl upy and govern tin: jreat territory lying between the Limpopo River on the south and the Zam- »esi on tin- north, and extending far to the north 1 iuth African Republic. With an expedition of a thousand men, volunteers from .he Transvaal and the C ilony, Rhodes marched north thro oun- :ry tilled with armed Zulus, -the best fighting stuff in Afr lied pot where now stands the flourishing town of Fort Salisbury without a shot or losing a man. 1 be -nines were opened, the r< ?f the country developed, and within three years as many important town- ships w.re founded anil settled. Not until July. 1893, ^'' ( ' trouble with the natives arise. Then a ruptu .00k place with the Matabele chief, Lobengula, who s inst tin- wh >owerful bands of his dreaded Zulu warriors, numbering in 11 , , , , -11 1 ix 1 War Willi t hi- ll 1 over 20,000 armed blacks. I hi se were met by I )r. Jameson. Matabeles .he administrator of the charter, d territory, and dealt with so lusly and skilfully that in two months the power of the Matabeles wa in end, their army was practically annihilated, their great kraals were occup 304 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA and their king was driven from his capital into the desert, where he died two months later. Thus Cecil Rhodes added to the dominion of Great Britain a territory as large as France and Germany, very fertile and healthful, and rich in gold and other metals. Zambesia — or Rhodesia, as it is often called — now extends far to the „. _. . north of the Zambesi River, being bordered on the north bv The Domain of & J the South the Congo Free State and Lake Tanganyika, and on the east African D y L a l ce Nyassa, and embracing the heart of South Africa. This territory was chartered in 1889 by the British South Africa Company, with Cecil Rhodes, then premier of the Cape Colony, as its managing director and practical creator. The rapid development of British interests in South Africa, the acqui- sition of territory in great part surrounding the South African Republic, — which was completely cut off from the sea by British and Portuguese terri- tory, — and the growth of a large foreign population on the soil of the republic itself, could not fail to be a source of great annoyance to the Boers, who deeply mistrusted their new neighbors. Their effort to get away from the British had been a failure. They were surrounded and overrun by them. It is true, the coming of the gold miners had been a great boon to „„ „. . the Boer in one way. From having an empty treasury, he had What the J ° r J J Foreigners now an overflowing one. The tax on the gold product had Brought to made the government rich. The foreigners had also brought the railway, the electric light, the telegraph, cheap and abundant articles of every-day use, newspapers, schools, and other append- ages of civilization, but it is doubtful if these were as welcome to the Boers as the cash contribution, since they tended to break up their simple, patri- archal style of living and destroy their time-honored customs. The question that particularly troubled the Boer mind was a political one. Paul Kruger, the president of the republic, was a man of remarkable character, an astute statesman, a shrewd politician, with an iron will and keen judgment, a personage strikingly capable of dealing with a disturbing situation. While ignorant in book lore, he had associated with him as o secretary of state an educated Hollander, Dr. Leyds by name, one of the ablest and shrewdest statesmen in South Africa. The pair of them were a Paul Kruger close match for the bold and aspiring Cecil Rhodes, then and the uit= premier of the Cape Colony. The difficulty they had to deal landers with was the following : The Uitlander (Outlander or foreign) element in the republic had grown so enormously as far to outnumber the Dutch. The country presented the anomaly of a minority of 15,000 igno- rant and unprogressive Dutch burghers ruling a majority of four or five PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRh 305 their number of educated, wealthy and prosper hile ig the most valuable pari of the territory, iven no voice in its government. They were not only deprived of legislative functions in the country at large, but also of municipal functions in the city oi their nun ion, and they demanded in vain a charter that would enable them to control and improve their own city. President Krug ing to liavi rnment overwhelmed by these Anglo-Saxon strangers, sternly deter- mined that they should have no political foothold in his state until afti long residence, forseeing that if they were given the franchise on easy terms they would soon control the state. In this sense the gold which was making them rich seemed a curse to the Boers, since it threatened to bring them in under the dominion of the hated Englishman. In 1 S95 the state of affairs reached a critical point. The British in Matabeleland, north of the Transvaal, were in warm sympathy with their brethren in fohannesburg, and n them a plot was laid to overthrow Kruger and his people. An outbreak to n Johannesburg, led by Colonel F. W. Rhodes, brother of Cecil Rhodes, by whom it was thought to have been ii :d. It was quickly followed by an invasion from Matabeleland, led by Dr. L. S. fameson, Cecil Rhodes' lieu- tenant in that region. The movement was a hasty and * * me ill-considered one. The invaders were met by the bold Boers, armed with their unerring rifles, were surrounded and force,! to surrender, and their leaders \wxv put on trial for their lives. Paul Kruger, however, was shrewd enough not to push the matter to extremities. Jameson and his confederates were set at liberty and allowed to return to England, where they were tried, convicted of invading a friendly country and imprisoned — Cecil Rhodes going free. This daring man after suppressed an extensive revolt of the Matabeles, and gained the reputation ol designing to foun onality in South Al At a latei date he devised the magni me of building a railroad throughout the whole length of Africa, from Cairo to Ca] ' on y, and thnw himself into this ambitious enterprise with all his aci ustomed energy and organizing capacity. The victory of the Boers over [ameson and his raiders did not bring to an end the strained relations in Johannesburg. The demand of the Uitlanders for political rights and privile ew more The Demands earnest and insistant as time went on, and the British govern- of theUlt- ment, on the basis of its suzerainty, began to take a hand in it. The right to vote, m- tain stringent conditions as to period of re and declaration of intention to become citizens, i\ rded 3o6 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH AFRICA by the Boer government, but was far from satisfactory to the foreign resi- dents, who demanded the suffrage under less rigorous conditions. In (899 the state of affairs became critical, England taking a more decided stand, and strongly pressing her claim to a voice in the status of British residents under her suzerainty — despite the fact that the latter gave her no right to interfere in the domestic affairs of the state. Joseph Cham- berlain, secretary of state for the colonies, demanded a more equitable arrangement than that existing, and his insistence led to a conference between the Boer authorities and those of Cape Colony. But President Kruger refused to yield to the full demands made upon him, while the con- cessions which he offered were not satisfactory to the British cabinet. Negotiations went on during the summer and early autumn of 1899, but at the same time both sides were actively preparing for war, and Great Britain had begun to send large contingents of troops to South Africa. The state of indecision came to a sudden end on October 10th. President Kruger apparently fearing that Joseph Chamberlain, who conducted the negotiations, was deceiving him, and seeking delay until he could land an overwhelming force in South Africa, sent a sudden ultimatum to the British cabinet. They were bidden to remove the troops which threatened the borders of his state before five o'clock of the next day or accept war as the alternative. Such a mandate from a weak to a strong state was not likely to be com- plied with. The troops were not removed, and the Boers promptly crossed the borders into Natal on the east and Cape Colony on the west. The Orange River Free State had joined the South African Republic in its attitude of hostility, and the British on the borders found themselves out- numbered and outgeneraled. The towns of Mafeking and Kimberley on the west were closely besieged, and on the east the outlying troops were driven back on Ladysmith, where General White, the British commander, met with a severe repulse, losing two entire regiments as prisoners. Meanwhile General Buller, the British commander-in-chief, had reached Cape Town and a powerful army was on the ocean, and it was widely felt that the successes of the Boers were but preliminaries to a desperate strug- gle whose issue only time could decide. General White had made a serious tactical error in seeking to hold Ladysmith instead of falling back to the coast to await reinforcements. The neatly devised plan of operations of the British army was greatly deranged, and General Buller, who had counted on a triumphal march to the Transvaal border, found himself held fast at the Tugela River, whose group of steep and rugged hills served the Boers as so many natural forts, from which the /'. tl 7, AVvV 'GER . 1ND THE STRl r GGLE IN Si K '77/ . I/'A7< I 307 British found it impossible to dislodge them. It had been supposed that the Boers were adapted only to warfare of the guerilla character, that of bold raids, sudden dashes and swift retreats, but this event proved them to be skillful in investment, stubborn in defence, and fertile in expedients. An attempt to cross the Tugela at Colenso proved a sanguinary failure, the troops being repulsed and a battery of guns lost. Buller met with other its, the most serious being that on the hilltop called Spion Kop. Mean- while General White held on obstinately to Ladysmith, though he had to contend, not. only against the gruns of the Ge "t r . al , fc> J & & White's enemy, but against sparse food, unwholesome water, and Operations threatening pestilence. Despite all these he defended him- self with unflinching courage against the guns and the assaults of the enemy for four long months, at the end of which time he was rewarded by a sudden disappearance of the foe, and the welcome entrance of Lord Dundonald and his troop of cavalry. Operations elsewhere had forced the brave Joubert to give up the siege and withdraw with his men. Those distant operations now demand our attention. Far away from Ladysmith, on the opposite side of the Orange Free State, lies the town of Kimberley, the centre of the diamond mining industry. Among its inmates was Cecil Rhodes, the diamond magnate, and the invest- ing Boers were even more eager to capture their hated foe than to fall heir to the rich products of the diamond mines. To the relief of Kimberly came Lord Methuen, with a strong force, hastening by rail from Capetown north. From the Orange to the Modder River he made his way by dint of a succession of fierce skirmishes, in which the Boers gave a very good account of themselves. His misfortunes culminated at Magersfontein, on the Modder River, where his army fell into a Boer trap and was defeated with a loss of nearly 1,100 men. This was the most serious battle of the war. By this time the government of Great Britain was thoroughly alarmed. Instead of the easy victory that had been looked for, it began to appear as if the courage, skill, and military resources of the contingency Boers might yield them an eventual triumph, and Kruger and Joubert be able to drive the invaders from their native soil. This was a contingency which British pride could not accept. Strenuous efforts were made to raise and equip a great force, and early in 1900 Field-Marshal Lord Roberts and the gallant General Kitchener, the two most famous soldiers that England possessed, were sent to the front, Lord Roberts as commander-in-chief. Under them was the largest army which Great Britain had ever dispatched to a foreign soil. 3 o8 PAUL KRUGER AND THE STRUGGLE IN SOUTH A ERICA It was too powerful a force for the small population of the Boer republics successfully to oppose. The abundant cavalry under Lord Roberts enabled him to Hank his opponents at every point, and the stubborn resistance of the Boers was changed to a rapid retreat. A sudden dash of General French and his light cavalry freed Kimberley, and the diamond capital was entered by the swift horsemen on February 1 6th, much to the relief of Cecil Rhodes and the distressed people, who had suffered severely during the siege. General Cronje, at the head of the Boer besieging force, hurried away as fast as his slow-moving ox teams would permit, but the pursuit was so hot and rapid that he was headed off and forced to take refuge in a dry river bed. Here he made a vigorous fight for life. For ten days he desperately held out, with a gallant persistance that won the plaudits of the world, and surrendered only when death stared him and his followers in the face. It was this surrender that forced Joubert to raise the siege of Ladysmith. From this point Roberts' great army swept resistlessly onward, the enemy vanishing before it, and on March 13 it made a triumphant T '!? y ra " svaal entry into Bloemfontein, the capital of the Orange River Entered J L ° Free State. Two clays afterwards the town of Mafeking, in which the valiant Colonel Baden-Powell and his gallant followers had made one of the most memorable defences of modern times, was relieved — none too soon, for starvation was almost at hand. In early June the final great success was won. In May Roberts put his men again in motion, the Vaal River was passed and the Transvaal entered, and the mining city of Johannesburg fell without a blow. With it the gold mines, the impelling motive of the war, and which it was feared would be blown up and destroyed, were won. Finally Pretoria, the Transvaal capital, which was said to be strongly fortified and abundantly provisioned, and where the last dying struggle of Paul Kruger and his countrymen was looked for, fell into British hands, the Boers and their government taking precipitately to flight. This conquest practically closed the drama of the war. Some daring raids on the British lines were made, but the Boer armies had vanished and there was every indication that their power of resistance was almost at an end. The great British army rapidly closed in on them, and little remained but to let fall the curtain of fate on the Boer republics, and raise it again over a British colony extending without a break from Capetown in the south to the Congo Free State in the north. TVPICA1 AMERICAN Nl IVB I o — a a x H ai w P f riod- swamped under the tide of Turkish barbarism and exist only ern ' s in their ruins. , once a great and flourishing empire, has likewise sunk under tin- flood of Arabian and Turkish invasion, and to-day, under its ruling Shah, is one of the most inert of nations, steeped in the self-satisfied barbarism that has succeeded its old civilization. Such was the Asia upon which the nineteenth century dawned, and such it remains to-da pt in one remote section of its area, in which alone modern civilization has gained a firm foothold. The section referred to is the island empire of Japan, a nation the people of which are closely allied in race to those of China, yet which has displayed a progressiveness and a readiness to avail itself of the resources of modern civilization strikingly diverse from the obstinate conservatism of its dei : 7 309 310 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA settled neighbor. The development of Japan has taken place within the The Seclusion past half century. Previous to that time it was as resistant of China to western influences as China. They were both closed na- an japan tions, prohibiting the entrance of modern ideas and peoples, proud of their own form of civilization and their own institutions, and sternly resolved to keep out the disturbing influences of the restless west. As a result, they remained locked against the new civilization until after the nineteenth century was well advanced, and China's disposition to avail itself of the results of modern invention was not manifested until the century was near its end. China, with its estimated population of nearly 400,000,000, attained to a considerable measure of civilization at a very remote period, but has made almost no progress during the Christian era, being content to retain its old ideas, methods and institutions, which its people look upon as far superior to those of the western nations. Great Britain gained a foot- of China hold in China as early as the seventeenth century, but the per- sistent attempt to flood the country with the opium of India, in disregard of the laws of the land, so annoyed the emperor that he had the opium of the British stores at Canton, worth $20,000,000, seized and de- stroyed. This led to the "opium war" of 1840, in which China was defeated and was forced to accept a much greater degree of intercourse with the world, five ports being made free to the world's commerce and Hong Kong ceded to Great Britain. In iS56an arbitrary act of the Chinese authorities at Canton, in forcibly boarding a British vessel in the Canton River, led to a new war, in which the French joined the British and the allies gained fresh con- cessions from China. In 1859 tne war was renewed, and Peking was occu- pied by the British and French forces in i860, the emperor's summer palace being destroyed. These wars had their effect in largely breaking down the Chinese wall of seclusion and opening the empire more fully to foreign trade and inter- course, and also in compelling the emperor to receive foreign ambassadors at his court in Peking- In this the United States was among the most sue- cessful of the nations, from the fact that it had always maintained friendly relations with China. In 1876 a short railroad was laid, and in 1877 a telegraph line was established. During the remainder of the century the telegraph service was widely extended, but the building of railroads was strongly op- posed, and not until the century had reached its end did the Chinese awaken to the importance of this method of transportation. They did, however, admit steam traffic to their rivers, and purchased some powerful ironclad naval vessels in Europe. THE RISE OF JAPA \ AND THE DECLINE OF < 7/, 311 The isolation ol Japan was maintained longer than that of China. trade with that country being ol less importance, and foreign nations know- ing and caring less about it. The United States has the credit of breaking down its long and stubborn seclusion and setting in train the HowJapanWas remarkably rapid development of the Japanese island empire. Opened to In [854 Commodore Perry appeared with an American fleet Commerce in the bay of Yeddo, and, by a show of force and a determination not to be rebuffed, he forced the authorities to make a treaty of commercial inter- course with the United States. Other nations quickly demanded similar privileges, and J obstinate resistance to foreign intercourse was at an end. 1 he result of this was revolutionary in Japan. For centuries the Shogun, or Tycoon, the principal military noble, had been dominant in the empire, and the Mikado, the true emperor, relegated to aposition of obscurity. The entrance of foreigners disturbed conditions so greatly -by devi par- ties for and against seclusion — that the Mikado was enabled to regain his long-1 ver, and in 1868 the ancient form of iment was restored. Meanwhile the fapane in to show a striking activity in the accept- ance of the results of western civilization, both in regard to obji ■ ts of com- merce, inventions, and industries, and to politi anization. The latter advance* pidly that in [88q the old despotic grovernmenl , . , - . -ii Great Develop- was, by thi- voluntary act ol the emperor, set aside and a lim- mentof Japan ited monarch)- established, the country being given tu- tton and a legislature, with universal suffrage for all men o\ nty-five. This act is of remarkable interest, it being doubtful if history records any similar instance of a monarch de< his authority without appeal 01' ure from his people. It indicates a lib pirit that could hardly have been looked for in a nation -, r ging from semi-barbarism. To-day, Japan differs little from the nations of Europe and America in its institutions ami industries, and from being anion- the most backward, has taken its place among the most advano d nations of the world. The Japanese army has been organized upon the European sysl and armed with the most modern ityle of weapon . th< G rman method of drill ami organization being adopted. Its nav\ fifty war vessels, principally built in the dock-) thi' most advanced modern type, while a number of still more powerful ships are in process ol building. Railroads have been widely extended; telegraphs run everywhere ; education is in an advancing stage ol develop- ment, embracing an imperial university at Tokio, and institutions in which foreign languages and science are taught; and in a hundred ways Japan is 312 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA progressing at a rate which is one of the greatest marvels of the nineteenth century. This is particularly notable in view of the obstinate adherence of the neighboring empire of China to its old customs, and the slowness with which it is yielding to the influx of new ideas. As a result of this difference in progress between the two nations, we have to describe a remarkable event, one of the most striking evidences that could be given of the practical advantage of modern civiliza- Event tion. Near the end of the century war broke out be- tween China and Japan, and there was shown to the world the singular circumstance of a nation of 40,000,000 people, armed with modern implements of war, attacking a nation of 400,000,000 — equally brave, but with its army organized on an ancient system — and defeating it as quickly and completely as Germany defeated France in the Franco- German War. This war, which represents a completely new condition of events in the continent of Asia, is of sufficient interest and importance to speak of at some length. Between China and Japan lies the kingdom of Corea, separated by rivers from the former and by a strait of the ocean from the latter, and claimed as a vassal state by both, yet preserving its independence as a state against the pair. Japan invaded this country at two different periods in the past, but failed to conquer it. China has often invaded it, with the same result. Thus it remained practically independent until near the end of the nineteenth century, when it became a cause of war between the two rival empires. Corea long pursued the same policy as China and Japan, locking its ports against foreigners so closely that it became known as the Hermit Corea Opened Nation and die Forbidden Land. But it was forced to give to Foreign way, like its neighbors. The opening of Corea was due to Japan. In 1876 the Japanese did to this secluded kingdom what Commodore Perry had done to Japan twenty-two years before. They sent a fleet to Seoul, the Corean capital, and by threat of war forced the government to open to trade the port of Fusan. In 1880 Chemulpo was made an open port. Later on the United States sent a fleet there which obtained similar privileges. Soon afterwards most of the nations of Europe were admitted to trade, and the isolation of the Hermit Nation was at an end. Less than ten years had sufficed to break down an isolation which had lasted for centuries. In less than twenty years after — in the year 1899 — an electric trolley railway was put in operation in the streets of Seoul — a remarkable evidence of the great change in Corean policv THE RISE OF JAPAN AND Till WE OF CI IIS A Corea was no sooner opened to foreign intercourse than China and Japan became rivals for influence in that country — a rivalry in which Japan showed itself the more active The Coreans became divided into two factions, a progressive one that favored Japan, and a conservative one that favored China. Japanese and Chinese soldiers were sent to the country, and the Chinese aided their part)', which was in the ascendant among the Coreans, to drive out the Japanese troops War was thn , but it v averted by a treaty in 1885 under which both nations agreed to withdraw their troops and to send no officers to drill tin: C ddiers. The war, thus for the time averted, came nine years afterwards, in con- sequence of an insurrection in Corea. The people of that country u discontented. They were oppressed with taxes and by tyranny, and in 1894 the followers of a new religious sect broke out in ,nsu ™" ectlon . in Corea open revolt. Their numbers rapidly increased until they u 20,000 strong, and they d< the government troops, captured a provincial city, and put the capital itself in danger. The Min (or Chinese^ faction was then at the head of affairs in the kingdom and called for aid from China, which responded by sending some two thousand troops and a num- ber of war to Corea. an, jealous of any such action on the part of China, 1 led by surrounding Seoul with soldiers, several thousands in number. Disputes followed. China claimed to be suzerain of Corea and fapan denied it. Both parties refused to withdraw their troops, ami the Japanese, finding that the party in power was acting against them, advanced on the capital, drove out the officials, and took p on of the palace and the king. A new government, made up of the party that favored Japan, was organized, and a revolution was accomplished in a day. The new author- ities declared that the Chinese were intruders and requested the aid oi the Japan* xpel them. War was close at hand. China was at that time under the leadership nf . man of marked ability, the famous Li Hung Chang, who, from being made viceroy of a province in 1870, had risen to be the prime minister of the empire. At the head of the empire was a woman, the I I mpress Tsu , ( Mung ChanK I si, who had usurped the power of t'he young emperor and and the Em- ruled the state. It was : n power that pre * s the war was due. The dowager empress, blindly ignorant power the Japanese, decided that these " insolent pign . be chastised. Li, her right-hand man, was of the same opinion. At the last moment, indeed, doubts began to assail his mind, into which came a dim idea that the army and navy of China were not in shape to meet the 314 - : THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA forces of Japan. But the empress was resolute. Her sixtieth birthday was at hand and she proposed to celebrate it magnificently ; and what better decorations could she display than the captured banners of these insolent islanders ? So it was decided to present a bold front, and, instead of the troops of China being removed, reinforcements were sent to the force at Asan. There followed a startling event. On July 25th three Japanese men-of- war, cruising in the Yellow Sea, came in sight of a transport loaded with Chinese troops and convoyed by two ships of the Chinese navy. The The Sinking of Japanese admiral did not know of the seizure of Seoul by the the Chinese land forces, but he took it to be his duty to prevent Chinese troops from reaching Corea, so he at once attacked the war ships of the enemy, with such effect that they were quickly put to flight. Then he sent orders to the transport that it should put about and follow his ships. This the Chinese generals refused to do. They trusted to the fact that they were on a chartered British vessel and that the British flag flew over their heads. The daring Japanese admiral troubled his soul little about this foreign standard, but at once opened fire on the transport, and with such effect that in half an hour it went to the bottom, carrying with it one thousand men. Only about one hundred and seventy escaped. On the same day that this terrible act took place on the waters of the sea, the Japanese left Seoul en route for Asan. Reaching w ' there, they attacked the Chinese in their works and drove them out. Three days afterwards, on August 1, 1894, both countries issued declarations of war. Of the conflict that followed, the most interesting events were those that took place on the waters, the land campaigns being an unbroken series of successes for the well-organized and amply-armed Japanese troops over the mediaeval army of China, which went to war fan and umbrella in hand, with antiquated weapons and obsolete organization. The principal battle was fought at Ping Yang on September 15th, the Chinese losing Land"" 1 6,ooo killed, wounded and captured, while the Japanese loss was trifling. In November the powerful fortress of Port Arthur was attacked by army and fleet, and surrendered after a two days' siege. Then the armies advanced until they were in the vicinity of the Great Wall, with the soil and capital of China not far before them. With this brief review of the land operations, we must return to the performances of the fleets, which were of high interest as forming the sec- ond occasion in which a modern ironclad fleet had met in battle — the fivst being that already described in which the Austrians defeated the Italians at THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DE( LINE OF CHINA Lissa. Backward as the Chinese were on land, they were not so on the sea. Li Hung Chang, progressive as he was, had vainly attempted to introduce railroads into China, but he had been more successful in regard to ships, and had purchased a navy more powerful than that of [apan. The heaviest ships of Japan were cruisers, whose armor consisted of deck and interior lining of steel. The Chih ed two powerful battle- The Chinese ships, with 14-inch iron armor and turrets defended with 12- and Japanese inch armor, each carrying four 12-inch guns. Both navies had FIee,s idvantage of European teaching in drill, tactics, ami seamanship. The Ting Yuen, the 1 lip, had as virtual commander an experienced German officer named Van Hanneken ; the Chen Yuen, the other big iron- clad, was handled by Commander M'Giffen, formerly of the United States navy. Thus commanded, it was expected in Europe that the superior strength of the Chinese ships would ensure them an easy victory over those of Japan. The event showed that this was a decidedly mistaken view. It was the superior speed and the large number of rapid-fire guns of the Japanes' Is that gave them the victory. The Chinese guns were mainly heavy Krupps and Armstrongs. They had also some machine guns, but only three quick-firers. The Japanese, on the contrary, had a few hi armor-piercing guns, but were supplied with a large number of quick-firing cannon, 1 apable of pouring out shells in an incessant stream. Admiral ling and ids European officers expected to come at once to close quarters and quickly destroy the thin armored Japanese craft. but the shrewd Admiral Ito, commander of the fleet of Japan, had no intention of being thus dealt with. l'lie speed of his craft enabled him to keep his distance and to dis- tract the aim of his foes, and he proposed to make the best use of this ad- vantage. Thus equipped the two fleets came together in the month of Sep- tember, and an epoch-making battle in the history of the ancient conti- nent of Asia was fought. On the afternoon of Sunday, September 16th, Admiral ding's fleet, consisting of 11 warslu, unboats, and 6 torpedo boats, anchored off the mouth of the Yalu River. l'hey were there as escorts to some trans- ports, which went up the river to discharge their troops. Admiral Ito had been engaged in the same work farther down the coast, and early on Monday morning came steaming towards the Yalu in search of the 'ttii- 11.1 ri The Fleets off enemy. Under him were in all twelve ships, none ol them theYaluRiver with heavy armor, one ol them an armed transport, ddie swiftest ship in the fleet was the Yoshino, capable .,f making twenty-three knots, and armed with 44 quick-firing Armstrongs, which would discharge v 4,000 pounds weight of shells every minute. The heaviest guns were 31 6 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA long 13-inch cannon, of which four ships possessed one each, protected by 12- inch shields of steel. Finally, they had an important advantage over the Chinese in being abundantly supplied with ammunition. With this formidable fleet I to steamed slowly to the north-westward. Early on Monday morning he was off the island of Hai-yun-tao. At seven a.m. the fleet began steaming north-eastward. It was a fine autumn morning. The sun shone brightly, and there was only just enough of a breeze to ripple the surface of the water. The long line of warships cleaving their way through the blue waters, all bright with white paint, the chrysanthemum of Japan shining like a golden shield on every bow, and the same emblem flying in red and white from every masthead, must have been a grand spectacle. Some miles away to port rose the rocky coast and the blue hills of Manchuria, dotted with many an island, and showing here and there a little bay with its fishing villages. On the other side, the waters of the wide Corean Gulf stretched to an unbroken horizon. Towards eleven The Cruise of o'clock the hills at the head of the gulf began to rise. Admiral Ito's \x nac j m n j s leading ship, the Yoshino, a cruiser that would have made a splendid scout. In any European navy she would have been steaming some miles ahead of her colleagues with, perhaps, another quick ship between her and the fleet to pass on her signals. Ito however seems to have done no scouting, but to have kept his ships in single line ahead, with a small interval between the van and the main squadron. At half-past eleven smoke was seen far away on the starboard bow, the bearing being east-north-east. It appeared to come from a number of steamers in line, on the horizon. The course was altered and the speed increased. Ito believed that he had the Chinese fleet in front of him. He was riyht. The smoke was that of Ting's ironclads and cruisers anchored in line, with steam up, outside the mouth of the Yalu. On Monday morning the Chinese crews had been exercised at their guns, and a little before noon, while the cooks were busy getting dinner ready, the lookout men at several of the mastheads began to call out that they saw the smoke of a large fleet away on the horizon to the south-west. Admiral Ting was as eager for the fight as his opponents. At once he signalled to his fleet to weigh anchor, and a few minutes later ran up the signal to clear for action. A similar signal was made by Admiral Ito half-an-hour later, as his ships came in sight of the Chinese line of battle. The actual moment was five minutes past noon, but it was not until three-quarters of an hour later that the fleets had closed sufficiently near for the fight to begin at long range. This three-quarters of an hour was a time of anxious and eager THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLIl CHINA 317 tation for both Chinese and Japanese. Commander McGiffen of the Chen Yuen has given a striking description of the scene when " adly between the two fleets was narrowing, and all wen- watching for the lash and smoke of the first gun : — "The twenty-two ships," he says, "trim ind fresh-looking in their paint and their bright new bunting, and gay with buttering signal-flags, presented such a holiday aspect th found difficulty in realizing that they were not there simply for a friendly meeting. But, looking closer on the Chen Yuen, one could eneath this gayety much that was sinister. Dark-skinned men, with queues tightly coiled round their heads, and with arms bared to the elbow, clustered along the Jecks in groups at the gams, waiting impatiently to kill or be The Chinese killed. Sand was sprinkled along the decks, and mure was on the "Chen kept hand\- against the time when they mil lip- ; In the superstructures, and down out of sight in the be the ship, were men at the shell whips ami ammunition hoists and in the torp room. Here and there a man lay flat k, with a charge of powder ; — fifty pounds or more — in his arms, wail spring up and pass it on when it should be wanted. The nerves of the men below deck were in extreme tension On deck 1 ling enemy, but below nothing was known, save that any moment might begin the action, and bring in a shell through the side. Once the battle had begun they right; but at first the strain was inl The il >sed on each other rapidly. My crew was silent. The sub-lieutenant in the military foretop was taking sextant angles and announcing the range, and exhibiting an appropriate small signal-flag. As each range was called, the men at the guns would lower the si ich gam captain, lanyard in hand, keeping his gun trained on the enemy. Through the ventilators could be heard the I i of the steam pumps; lor all th e were joined up an. I spouting water, so that, in case of 1 time need l>e lost. Every man's nerves were in a state of tension, which was greatly relieved as a huge : of white belching from the Ting Yuen's rd barbette, ned the ball." Idle shot fell a little ahead of the Yoshino, throwing up a tall column of white water. Admiral Ito, in ids official report, notes that this first shot i red at ten minutes to one. Th i noted m\ the Chen Yuen, was 5,200 yards, or a little over three and a half miles. The heav\ ind bow guns of th 1 and other ships ttoBattte now joined in, but still the Japanese van squadron came on without replying. For five minutes the fii i all on the side of the Chine--. l!i space between the Japanese van and the hostile line had 3i8 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA diminished to 3,000 yards — a little under two miles. The Yoshino, the leading ship, was heading for the centre of the Chinese line, but obliquely, so as to pass diagonally along the front of the Chinese right wing. At five minutes to one her powerful battery of quick-firers opened on the Chinese, sending out a storm of shells, most of which fell in the water just ahead of the Ting and Chen Yuen. Their first effect was to deluge the decks, barbettes and bridges of the two ironclads with the geysers of water flung up by their impact with the waves. In a few minutes every man on deck was soaked to the skin. One by one the other ships along the Japanese line opened fire, and then, as the range still diminished, the Chinese machine-guns, Hotchkisses and Nordenfelts added their sharp, growling reports to the deeper chorus of the heavier guns. The armored barbettes and central citadels of the two Chinese battle- ships were especially the mark of the Japanese fire. Theoretically they ought to have been pierced again and again, but all the harm they received were some deep dents and grooves in the thick plates. But through the thin lined hulls of the cruisers the shells crashed like pebbles through glass, the only effect of the metal wall being to explode the shells and scatter their fragments far and wide. The Chinese admiral had drawn up his ships in a single line, with the large ones in the centre and the weaker ones on the wings. Ito's ships came up in column, the Yoshino leading, his purpose being to take advantage of the superior speed of his ships and circle round his adversary. Past Admiral Ito's , ~. . . r . Strategy tne ^ mi ">ese right wing swept the swift i oshtno, pouring in the shells from her rapid-fire guns on the unprotected vessels there posted, one of which, the Yang Wei, was soon in flames. The ships that followed tore the woodwork of the Chao Yung with their shells, and she likewise burst into flames. The slower vessels of the Japanese fleet lagged behind their speedy leaders, particularly the little Hcijei, which fell so far in the rear as to be exposed to the fire of the whole Chinese fleet. In The Daring tms dilemma its captain displayed a daring spirit. Instead of Act of the following his consorts, he dashed straight for the line of the "Heiiei" ■ . enemy, passing between two of their larger vessels at 500 yards distance. Two torpedoes were launched at him, but missed their mark. But he was made the target of a heavy fire, and came through with his craft in flames. At 2.23 the blazing Chao J ?/;/£- went to the bottom with all on board. As a result of the Japanese evolution, their ships finally closed in on the Chinese on both sides and the action reached its most furious phase. The two flag-ships, the Japanese Matsushima and the Chinese Ting Yuen, THE RISE OF JAPAN AN1 > THE DECLINE OF CHINA 319 pattered each otherwith their great guns, the wood-work of the latter 1> toon in flames, while a heap of ammunition on the Matsushima was 1 by a shell and killed or v. I eighty men. Th L. . ', The "Matsu- phmese flag-ship would probably have been destroyed by the s hima"and lames but that her consort came to her assistance. By five the "Ting Yuen" /clock the Chinese fleet was in the greatest disorder, several )f its ships having been sunk or driven in flames ashore, while others were n flight. The Japanese fire was mainly concentrated on the two large iron- dads, which continued the fight, their thick armor resisting the heaviest guns )f the enemy. Signals and signal halyards had been long since shot away, and all the signalmen killed or wounded ; but the two ships conformed to each oth ind made a splendid fight of it. Admiral Ting had been insen- sible for some hours at the outset of the battle. He had stood too close to )ne of his own big guns on a platform its muzzle, and had been Stunned by the upward 1 kward concussion of the air; but he had re- joven ind, though wounded by a burst shell, was bravely jommanding his ship. Von Hanneken was also wounded in one of the bar >ettes. The ship was on fire forward, but the hose k under. The Chen Yuen was almost in the same plight. Her commander, McGii lad had several narrow 1 ;. When at last the lacquered woodwork on U r forecastle, caught fire, and the men declined to go forward and put it out inless an officer went with them, he led the party. Hew Ale Ciiff en's Tci*" stooping down to move something on the foreca . when a ribie Danger shot passed between his arms and legs, wounding both his prists: At the same time he was struck down by an explosion near him. When he recovered from the shock he found himself in a terrible position. lie was lying wounded on the I ind full in front of him the mi/,' of one of the heavy bai me sweeping round, rise, and fhen sink a little, as the gunners trained it on a Japanese ship, never notii that he lay just below the line of fire. It was in vain to try to attract their mention. In another minute he would have been caught in the fiery blast. With l effort he rolled himself over the edge of the forecastle, drop- ping on to some rubbish on the main deck, and hearing the roar of the gun as he fell. battle now resolved itself into a close cannonade of the two iron- clads by the main body of the Japanese fleet, while the rest of the ships kept up a desultory fight with the three other Chinese ships and the gun- The torpedo boal 1 fro have done nothing. Commander McGiffen savs that their engines had been worn out, and their fittings 320 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA shaken to pieces, by their being recklessly used as ordinary steam launches in the weeks before the battle. The torpedoes fired from the tubes of the battleships were few in number, and all missed their mark, one, at least, going harmlessly under a ship at which it was fired at a range of only fifty yards. The Japanese used no torpedoes. It is even said that, by a mis- take, they had sailed without a supply of these weapons. Nor was the ram used anywhere. Once or twice a Chinese ship tried to run down a Japanese, but the swifter and handier vessels of Ito's squadron easily avoided all such attacks. The Yalu fight was from first to last an artillery battle. And the end of it came somewhat unexpectedly. The Chen Yuen and the Ting Yuen were both running short of ammunition. The latter had been hit more than four hundred times without her armour being pierced, and the former at least as often. One of the Chen Yuen's heavy guns had its mountings damaged, but otherwise she was yet serviceable. Still, she had been severely battered, had lost a great part of her crew, and her slow- fire must have told the Japanese that she was economizing her ammunition, which was now all solid shot. But about half-past five Ito signalled to his fleet to retire. The two Chinese ironclads followed them for The End of the .... , . . . , r . . Battle a couple ot miles, sending an occasional shot aiter them ; then the Japanese main squadron suddenly circled round as if to renew the action, and, towards six o'clock, there was a brisk exchange of fire at long range. When Ito again ceased fire, the Chen Yuen had just three projectiles left for her heavy guns. If he had kept on for a few minutes longer the two Chinese ships would have been at his mercy. Just why Ito retired has never been clearly explained. Probably exhaustion of his crew and the perils of a battle at night with such antag- Lessons from onists had much to do with it. The next morning the Chinese the Yalu fleet had disappeared. It had lost four ships in the fight, two had taken to flight, and one ran ashore after the battle and was blown up. Two of the Japanese ships were badly damaged, but none were lost, while their losses in killed and wounded were much less than those of the Chinese. An important lesson from the battle was the danger of too much wood-work in ironclad ships, and another was the great value in naval warfare of rapid-firing guns. But the most remarkable characteristic of the battle of the Yalu was that it took place between two nations which, had the war broken out forty years earlier, would have done their fighting with fleets of junks and weapons a century old. Capture of Wei T T ' . , r . J , ... HaiWei * n January, 1895, the Japanese fleet advanced against the strongly fortified stronghold of Wei HaiWei, on the northern coast of China. Here a force of 25,000 men was landed successfully, and THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA 321 .at. ukcd the fort in the rear, quickly capturing its landwan The stronghold was thereupon abandoned by its garrison and 1 by the fapanese. rhe Chinese fleet lay in the harbor, and sun 1 to the fapanese after several ships had been sunk by torpedo bo China was now in a perilous position. Its fleet was lost, its 1 Strongholds of Port Arthur and Wei Hai Wei were held by the enemy, and its capital city was threatened from the latter place ami by the army north of the Great Wall. A continuation of the war pro to bring about the compli nquest of the Chinese empire, and Li Hung Chang, who had Keen degraded from his official rank in consequence of the disasters to the army, was now restored to all his honors and sent to Japan to sm In the treaty ol 1 China was compelled to acknowledge the Independence of Corea, to cede to [apan the island of For- iin 1 "11 r-iti- The Treaty of inosa and t I ires group, and that part ol .Manchuria peace occupied by the Japanese army, including Port Arthur, also to pay an indemnity of 300,000,000 taels and open seven new treaty po This tre.it\- was not fully carried out. The Russian, British, and French ministers forced Japan, under threat of war, to give up her claim to the Liau run, , - peninsula and Port Arthur. The ;tory of China during the few remaining years of the century may be briefly told. The evidence of its weakness yielded by the war with Japan was quickly taken advantage of by the great powers of Europe, The | mpeiu jj nK md China was in danger of going to 1 > under their attacks, Partition of which grew so decided and ominous that rumors of a partition " na •etween these powers ol the most ancient and populous empire of the world the air. In 1S9S decided steps in this direction were taken. Russia obtained a lease for ninety-nine years of Port Arthur and Talien Wan. and is at present in practical possession of Manchuria, through which a railroad is to be built connecting with the Trans-Siberian road, while Port Arthur affords tier an ice-free harbor for her Pacific fleet. Great Britain, jealous of this movement on the part of Russia, forced from the unwilling hands of China the port of Wei Hai Wei, and Germany demanded and obtained the cession A a port at Kiau Chun, farther down the coast. France, not to be outdone by her neighbors, gained concessions of territory in the south, adjoining her Indo. China possessions, and Italy, last of all. came into the Eastern market foi a share of the nearly defunct empire. How far this will go it is not easy to saw The nations „"" ° Revolution settling on China like vultures on a carcass, and perha] may tear the antique commonwealth to pieces between them. Within 322 THE RISE OF JAPAN AND THE DECLINE OF CHINA the empire itself revolutionary changes have taken place, the dowager empress having deprived the emperor of power and held him a palace prisoner at Peking. In this action she was sustained by the conservative party of the empire, which was disturbed by the emperor's attempt to reform the administration. For the events that succeeded see a subsequent chapter. Meanwhile one important result has come from the recent war. Li Hung Chang and the other progressive statesmen of the empire, who have long been convinced that the only hope of China lies in its being thrown open to Western science and art, have now become able to carry out their plans, the conservative opposition having seriously broken down. The result of this is seen in a dozen directions. Railroads, long almost com- pletely forbidden, have now gained free " right of way," and r °£ ressin before many years promise to traverse the country far and wide. Steamers plough their way for a thousand miles up the Yang-tse-Kiang ; engineers are busy exploiting the coal and iron mines of the Flowery Kingdom ; great factories, equipped with the best modern machinery, are springing up in the foreign settlements ; foreign books are being translated and read ; and the emperor and the dowager empress have even gone so far as to receive foreign ambassadors in public audience and on a footing of outward equality in the "forbidden city" of Peking, long the sacredly secluded centre of an empire locked against the outer world. All this is full of significance. The defeat of China in 1895 may prove its victory, if it starts it upon a career of acceptance of Western civilization which shall, before the twentieth century has far advanced, raise it to the level of Japan. It must be borne in mind that the extraordinary progress of the island empire has been made within about forty years. China is a larger body and in consequence less easy to move, but its people are innately What the Fu= practical and the pressure of circumstances is forcing them ture May forward. Within the next half century this great empire, ring to ma Respite j ts thousands of years of unchanging conditions, may take a wonderful bound in advance, and come up to Japan in the race of political and industrial development. In such a case all talk of the parti- tion of China must cease, and it will take its place among the greatest powers of the world. CHAPTER XXI. The Era of Colonies. SIXCE civilization began nations have endeavored to extend their dominions, not alone by adding to their territory by the conquest of adjoining countries, but also by sending out their excess pop to distant regions and founding colonies that served as aids to and fe< of the parent state. In the ancient world the active commercial nal Phoenicia and Greece, were alert in this direction, some of their colour Cartii ir instance, — becoming powerful enough to gain the statu independent states. In modern times the colonial era began with the dis- covery of America in [492 and the circumnavigation of Africa immediately afterwards. Spain and Portugal, the leaders in enterprise at that period, were quick to take advantage of their discoveries, while Franci Bri- tain and Holland into the field as foundi colonies at a later date. At the opening of the nineteenth century Spain and Portugal still held : rreat dominions they had won. They divided between them the conti- nent of South America, while Spain held a la ion of North America, embracing the whole continent south of Canada and west of the Missis River, together with the peninsula of Florida. Portugal held, in addition to Brazil, large territories in e Africa and minor . . , . . . . . Progress in ^sions elsewhere. As regards the remaining active colonization nizing nations, -Great Britain, France, and Holland, — some striking transformations had taken place. Great Britain, while late to come into the field of colonization, had shown remarkable activity and aggressiveness in this direction, robbing Holland of her settlement on t'ne Atlantic coast of America, ami depriving France of hei lonial in the east and the west. France had shown rkable activity in colonization. In the 1 lined a strong foothold in India, which promi expand to imperial dimensions. In the west she hi :d Canada, had planted French Activity military posts along thi ippi River and claimed in rounding the vast territory beyond, and was extending into the Ohio Colonies Valley, while the British still confined themselves to a narrow strip along the Atlantic coast. The war which broke out between the English and French 323 324 THE ERA OF COLONIES colonists in 1754 put an end to this grand promise. When it ended France had lost all her possessions in America and India, Great Britain becoming heir to the whole of them with the exception of the territory west of the Mississippi, which was transferred to Spain. As regards Holland, she had become the successor of Portugal in the east, holding immensely valuable islands in the Malayan archipelago. The colonial dominion of Great Britain, however, suffered one great loss before the end of the eighteenth century. It failed to recognise the spirit of Anglo-Saxon colonists, and by its tyranny in America gave rise to an insurrection which ended in the freedom of its American colonies. It still held Canada and many of the West India Islands, but the United States was free, and by the opening of the nineteenth century had fairly begun its remarkable development. Such was the condition of colonial affairs at the beginning of the cen- tury with which we are concerned. Spain and Portugal still held the great- est colonial dominions upon the earth, France had lost nearly the whole of her colonies, Holland possessed the rich spice islands of the eastern seas, and Great Britain was just entering upon that activity in colonization which forms one of the striking features of nineteenth century progress. At the close of the centuryaremarkabledifference appears. Spain had lost practically the whole of her vast colonial empire. She had learned no lesson from England's experience with her American colonies, Spain's Colo- . ...,., , ., . nial Decline " ut maintained a policy of tyranny and oppression until these far-extended colonial provinces rose in arms and won their independence by courage and endurance. Her great domain west of the Mississippi, transferred by treaty to France, was purchased by the United States. Florida was sold by her to the same country, and by the end of the first quarter of the century she did not own a foot of land on the American continent. She still held the islands of Cuba and Porto Rico in the West Indies, but her oppressive policy yielded the same result there as on the continent. The islanders broke into rebellion, the United States came to their aid, and she lost these islands and the Philippine Islands in the East. At the end of the century all she held were the Canary Islands and some small possessions elsewhere. Portugal had also suffered a heavy loss in her colonial dominions, but in a very different manner. The invasion of the home state by Napoleon's armies had caused the king and his court to set sail for Brazil, where they established an independent empire, while a new scion of the family of Braganza took Portugal for his own. Thus, with the exception of Canada, THE ERA OF COLONIES Guiana, and the smaller islands of the West Indies, no colo d in America at tin- end ol the century, all the former colonies having bei independent republ The active powers in colonization within the nineteenth century were the great rivals of the prei period, Great Britain and France, tho the former grained decidedly the start, and its colonial empire „., „ , • ■ The Colonial to-day surpasses that of any other nation of mankind. It is Development so enormous, in fact, as to dwarf the parent kingdom, which of Great is related to its colonial dominion, so far as comparati; mcerned, as the small brain of the elephant i d to its great body. Other powers, not heard of as colonizers in the past, h; ently come into this field, though too late to obtain any of the great pr These are Germany ami Italy, the latter to ;l small extent. Hut there is a great power still to name, which in its way stands as a rival to Great Britain, the empire of Russia, whose acquisitions in Asia have grown enormous in extent. These an- not colonies in the ordinary sense, hut rather n the expansion of an empire through warlilo ession, but . ..... r i i • i i Other Coloniz- the\ .ne colonial in the sense < > t absorbing the excess popula- ing p owers tion of European Russia. The great territory of Siberia w gained by Russia before the ni th century, but within recent years its dominion in Asia has greatly increased, and it is not easy to tell just when and where it will end. With this preliminary review we may proceed to consider the history of colonization within the century. And first we must take up the results of the colonial enterprise of Great Britain, as much the most important of the whole. 01 this story we have already described some of the leading features. A chapter h n eaven to the story of the Indian empit Great Britain, far the largest of her colonial possessions, and another to that ot South Africa. In addition to Hindostan, in which the (irmv(h ,,,- (ne dominion of Great Britain now extends to Afghanistan and British Thibet in the north, the British colony now incli irmah Colonies ami the west-coast n : Indo-China, with the Straits Settlements in the Malay peninsula, and the island of Ceylon, acquired in iSoj from Holl In i iiv.it Britain pos ; another colony of dimensions, the continental island of Australia, which, with its area of ni 3,000,000 square miles, is three-fourths th< of Europe. 1 British settlement was made here in 17NN, at Port [ackson, the site of the present thriving city of Sydney, and the island was long maintait penal settlement, convicts being sent there as late as 1868. It was the dis- covery oi gold in 1851 to which Australia owed its great pr< The IS 326 THE ERA OF COLONIES incitement of the yellow metal drew the enterprising thither by thousands, until the population of the colony is now more than 3,000,000, Australia and , . . . , , . , , , , New Zealand anc ' IS growing at a rapid rate, it having developed other valuable resources besides that of gold. Of its cities, Mel- bourne, the capital of Victoria, has more than 300,000 population ; Sydney, the capital of New South Wales, probably 250,000, while there are other cities of rapid growth. Australia is the one important British colony obtained without a war. In its human beings, as in its animals generally, it stood at a low level of development, and it was taken possession of without a protest from the savage inhabitants. The same cannot be said of the inhabitants of New Zealand, an impor- tant group of islands lying east of Australia, which was acquired by Great Britain as a colon v in 1840. The Maoris, as the people of these islands call themselves, are of the bold and sturdy Polynesian race, a brave, generous, and warlike people, who have given their new lords and masters no little trouble. A series of wars with the natives began in 1843 an d continued until 1869, since which time the colony has enjoyed peace. It can have no more trouble with the Maoris, since there are said to be few more Maoris. They have vanished before the "white man's face." At present this colony is one of the most advanced politically of any region on the face of the earth, so far as attention to the interests of the masses of the people is con- cerned, and its laws and regulations offer a useful object lesson to the remain- der of the world. In addition to those great island dominions in the Pacific, Great Britain possessess the Fiji Islands, the northern part of Borneo, and a large section of the extensive island of Papua or New Guinea, the remainder of which is held by Holland and Germany. In addition there are various Other British .. . ... . r . T , Colonies coaling stations on the islands and coast ot Asia. In the Mediterranean its possessions are Gibraltar, Malta, and Cyprus, and in America the great colony of Canada, a considerable number of the islands of the West Indies, and the districts of British Honduras and British Guiana. Of these, far the most important is Canada, to which a chapter will be devoted farther on in our work. We have here to deal with the colonies in two of the continents, Asia and Africa, of which the history presents certain features of singularity. Though known from the most ancient times, while America was quite un- known until four centuries ago, the striking fact presents itself that at the beginning of the nineteenth century the continents of North and South America were fairly well known from coast to centre, while the interior of Asia and Africa remained in great part unknown. This fact in regard to 77//-: ERA OF COLONIES Asia was due to the hostile attitude of its people, which rendered it very dangerous for any European traveler to attempt to penetrate its interior. In the case of Africa it was due to the inhospitality of nature, which had ed the most serious obstacles in the way ol those who ■-< >ught The | nter j or to penetrate beyond the roast regions. This state of affairs of Africa continue,! until the latter half of the century, within which period there has been a remarkabL i r t e in th< irs, both tinents having b netrated in all directions and their walls ol isolation completely broken down. Africa is not only now well known, but the penetration of its inti has Keen followed by political changes of the most revolutionary char. It pn a virgin field for colonization, of which the land-hungry nations ol Europe hastened to avail them dividing up the continent between them, so that, by the end of the century, the partition of Africa was practically complete. It is one of the most remarkable circumstances in the history ol the nineteenth centurj thai a complete continent . . ... . , , .' r , . , Early Colonies remained thus until late in the history ol the world to serve as 1,1 Africa a new held for the outpouring of the nations. The ■ ion of Africa by Europeans, indeed, L rlier. 1 he Arabs had held the tion north of the Sahara for many centurii . I il claimed -but occupied I, 1 tions east and west, and the Hutch had a thriving settle- ment in the south. But the exploration and division ol the bulk of the tinent waited for the nineteenth century, and the greater part of the work of partition took place within ; 1] quarter of that century. In this work ol colonization Great Britain was. as usual, most energetic and su ful, and to-day the pos ■ and protectorates ol this active kingdom in Africa embrace 2,587,755 square miles; or, il we add Egypt and Egyptian Soudan — practically British territory — the area occupi< ned amounts : 5 square miles. Fra , . .. The Partition next, with claims covering 1,232,454 square miles. Uermany • of A f riL;i lays claim to 920,920; Italy, to 278,500; Portugal, to 4; Spain, to 243,877 ; the Congo 1 /oo.ooo ; and Turkey (if Egypt icluded), to .are miles. The parts of Africa unoccupied or unclaimed bj Europeans are a portion of the Desert of Sahara, which no one wants; Abyssinia, still in< :nt though in danger of absorpti and Liberia, a slate over which rests the sic ction of the United States. Of the British colonial dons in Africa ready sufficiently ribed that in the south, extending now from Cape Town to Lake JTan- ganyika, and forming an immense area, replete with natural resources, and 328 THE ERA OF COLONIES capable of sustaining a very large future population. On the east coast is another large acquisition, British East Africa, extending north to Abyssinia and the Soudan and west to the Congo Free State, and including part of the great Victoria Nyanza. Further north a large slice British Colonies . , , f „ ...... , ^ u , in Africa ' ias Deen carved out or Somahland, facing on the Gun ot Aden. The remainder of this section of Africa is claimed — though very feebly held — by Italy, whose possessions include Somahland and Eritrea, a coast district north of Abyssinia. Great Britain, in addition, lays claim to Sierra Leone and the Ashantee country on the west coast and an extensive region facing on the Gulf of Guinea, and extending far back into the Soudan. Next to Great Britain in activity in the acquisition of African territory comes France, which within the recent period has enormously extended its claims to territory in this continent. Of these the most difficult in acquire- ment was Algeria, on the Mediterranean, which France first invaded in 1830, but did not obtain quiet possession of for many years and then only at the cost of long and sanguinary wars. At a later date the adjoining African Colonies ,, .", , . , . . of France Moorish kingdom 01 1 unis was added, and since then the claims of France have been extended indefinitely southward, to include the greater part of the western half of the Sahara — the Atlantic coast district of the Sahara being claimed by Spain. Of this great desert region almost the whole is useless to any nation, and France holds it mainly as a connecting link between her possessions in Algeria and the Soudan. French Soudan has had a phenomenal growth, the French displaying the same enterprise here as they did in America in the rapid extension of their Canadian province. Claiming, as thei.r share in the partition of Africa, the Atlantic coast region of Senegal and an extensive district facing on the Gulf of Guinea and the South Atlantic, and known as French Congo, they have made an enormous spread, northward from the latter, westward from Sene- gal, and southward from Algeria, until now their claims cover nearly the whole of the Soudan — a vast belt of territory stretching from the Atlantic nearly across the continent and bordering on the Egyptian Soudan in the east. The French claim, indeed, extended as far as the Nile, being based on Major Marchand's journey to the river in 1898. But the English con- quests in that region barred out the French claim, and it has been abandoned. In addition to the territories here named, France has taken possession of a portion of the coast region of Abyssinia, between the Italian and the British regions, and completely shutting out that ancient kingdom from the sea. The latest of the nations to develop the colonizing spirit were Italy and Germany. We have described Italy's share in Africa. Germany's is far THE ERA OF CO/ i WIES larger and more imporant. In East Africa it holds a large and valuable m of territory, on the Zanzibar coast, between British East Africa and Portugue Mozambique, and extending westward to (k . imanaild Lake Nyassa and Tanganyika and the Congo Free State, Italian and northward to the Victoria Nyanza. It cuts off British Colontes territory from an extension throughout the whole length of Africa, and if Cecil Rhodes' Cairo to Cape Town Railway is ever completed, some hundreds of miles of it will have to run through German territory. In South Africa Germany has seized upon abroad r< ft unclaimed by Great Britain, the Atlantic coast section of Damaraland and <■ Namaqualand, and also an extensive section on the right of the Gulf of Guinea, stretching inward like a wedge between British and sions in this region. On the Gold Coast it has also a minor territory, lying between British Ashantee and French Dahomey. [*h< broad interior of the continent, the mighty plateau region wat by the great Congo River and its innumerable affluents, first traversed by the daring Stanley not many years in the past, has been , . L , . . ... . The Congo erected into the extensive and promising Congo rree .State, tree state under the suzerainty ol the king of Belgium. It is the most populous and agriculturally the richest on of Africa, while its remark- able extension of navigable waters gives uninterrupted communication through its every part. It has probably before it a great future. Off tin; east coast of Africa lies the great island of Madagascar, now a French territory. France has hail militar on its coast for more than two hundred years, and in 1883 began the series of wars The French which resulted in the conquest of the island. The principal Conquestol war of invasion began in 1895 aiu ' ended in a complete oxer- throw of tin- native government, Madagascar being declared a French col- ony in June, 1S96. Of these European possessions in Afri ire held with a strong hand except those of Portugal, which unprogressive state may soon <^\ve up all claim to her territories of Angola and Mozambique. Great Britain and Germany have been negotiating with Portugal for the purchase ol these ter- ritorie to b< divided between them. But the Boer War has seriously inter- fered with this negotiation, and ( neat Britain's desire to gain possession of the Portuguese harbor of I» lagoa Bay seems unlikelj : ,lized. WargJn Afnca This division of Africa between the European nations, with the subsequent takini a of the acquired territories, has not been accomplished without war and bloodshed ; England, France, and Italy having had to fight hard to establish their claims. In only two 330 THE ERA OF COLONIES tions, Abyssinia and the Egyptian Soudan, have the natives been able to drive out their invaders, and the wars in these regions call for some fuller notice. The first war in Abyssinia occurred in 1867, when England, irritated by an arbitrary action of the Emperor Theodore, declared war against him, and invaded his rocky and difficult country. The war ended in the conquest of Magdala and the death of Theodore. In 1889 Italy aided Menelek in eainine the throne, and was Granted the laroe district of Eritrea on the Red Defeat of the Sea, with a nominal protectorate over the whole kingdom. Italians in Subsequently Menelek repudiated the treaty, and in 1894 the yssima Italians invaded his kingdom. For a time they were success- ful, but in March, 1896, the Italian army met with a most disastrous defeat, and in the treaty that followed Italy was compelled to acknowledge the complete independence of Abyssinia. It was the one case in Africa in which the natives were able to hold their own against the ambitious nations of Europe. In Egypt they did so for a time, and a brief description of the recent history of this important kingdom seems of interest. Egypt broke loose in large measure from the rule of Turkey during the reign of the able and ambitious Mehemet Ali, who was made viceroy in 1840 In 1876 the inde- pendence of Egypt was much increased, and its rulers were given the title of khedive, or king. The powers of the khedives steadily increased, and in 1874-75 Ismail Pasha greatly extended the Egyptian terri- of Eg'-pt t° r y> annexing the Soudan as far as Darfur, and finally to the shores of the lately discovered Victoria Nyanza. Egypt thus embraced the valley of the Nile practically to its source, presenting an aspect of immense length and great narrowness. Soon after, the finances of the country became so involved that they were placed under European control, and the growth of English and French influence led to the revolt of Arabi Pasha in 1879. This was repressed by Great Britain, which bombarded Alexandria and defeated the Egyptians, France taking no part. As a result the controlling influence of France ended, and Great Britain became the practical ruler of Egypt, which posi- tion she still maintains. In 1880 began an important series of events. A Mohammedan prophet arose in the Soudan, claiming to be the Mahdi, a Messiah of the Mussulmans. A laroe body of devoted believers soon oathered around him, The Rise of the . , J . . , , . ° , , . , Mahdi and he set up an independent sultanate in the desert, defeating four Egyptian expeditions sent against him, and capturing El Obeid, the chief city of Kordofan, which he made his capital in 1883. THE ERA OF COLONIES 331 ainst him Greal Britain dispatched an army of British and Egyp- tian soldiers, under an English leader styled in Egypt Micks Pasha. Tl advanced to El Obeid, where they fell into an ambush prepared by the Mahdists, and, after a desperate struggle, lasting three days, were almost com- pletely annihilated, v a man escaping to tell the disastrous tale. "General I I irks." said a newspaper correspondent, "charged at the head of Staff. They galloped towards a sheikh, supposed by the The Massacre of Egyptians to be the Mahdi. Hicks rushed on him with his HicksPasha sword and cut his face and arm ; this man had on a Darfur an s rm> mail-shirt, fust then a club thrown struck General Hicks on the head and unhorsed him. The chargers of the staff were speared but the English officers fought on foot till all were killed. Hicks was the last to die." Other Egyptians troops sent against Osman Digna I man the Ugly"), the lieutenant of the Mahdi in the Eastern Soudan. met with a similar fate, while the towns of Sinkat and Tokar were invested by the Mahdists. To relieve these towns Baker Pasha advanced with a force of 3,650 men. Then daring or accomplished officer in the British army than Valentine Baker, but his expedition met with the same fate as that of his predecessor. Advancing into tb t from Trin- kit.it, a town sonn- distance south of Suakim, on th : Red Sea, the force act by a body of Mahdists, ami the Egyptian soldiers at once broke into a panic of terror. Hie Mahdists were only some 1,200 strong, but they surrounded and butchered the unresisting Egyptians in a frightful slaughter. " Inside the square," aid an eyev ite of affairs was almost indescribable. Cavalry, infantry, mules, camels, falling baggage and dying men were crushed into a strugfSflinsf, surging mass. The Egyptians were shrieking madly, hardly attempting to run Near Suakim away, but trying I themselves one behind anoth "The conduct of the Egyptians was simply di ul," said another officer. "Armed with rifle and bayonet, they allowed themselves to he slaughtered, without an effort at e, by sa^ nferior to them in numbers and armed only with spears and swords." Baker and his staff officers, seeing that affairs were hopeless, charged the enemy and cut their way through to the shore, hut of the total force two-thirds were left dead or wounded on the field. Such was the "massa- cre" of I'd d'eh, which was followed four days afterwards by the capture of Sinkat and slaughter of its garrison. This butchery was soon after aven General Graham was sent from Cairo with reinforcements of British troops, which advanced on Osman's position, and in two blood}- engagements sub 332 THE ERA OF COLONIES jected him to disastrous defeat. The last victory was a crushing' one, the total British loss being about 200, while, of the Arab loss, the killed alone numbered over 2,000. In the same year in which these events took place (1S84) General Charles Gordon — Chinese Gordon, as he was called, from his memorable exploits in the Flowery Kingdom — advanced by the Nile to Khartoum, the far-off capital of the Mohammedan Soudan, of which he had been grovernor-p-eneral in former years. His purpose was to to Khartoum & & J ... relieve the Egyptian garrison of that city — in which design he failed. In fact, the Arabs of the Soudan flocked in such multitudes to the standard of the Mahdi that Khartoum was soon cut off from all com- munication with the country to the north, and Gordon and the garrison were left in a position of dire peril. It was determined to send an expedi- tion to his relief, and this was organized under the leadership of Lord Wolseley, the victor in the Ashantee and Zulu wars. The expedition was divided into two sections, a desert column which was to cross a sandy stretch of land with the aid of camels, from Korti to Metamneh, on the Nile, thus cutting off a wide loop in the stream; and a river column for whose transportation a flotilla of 800 whale boats was sent out from England. The desert column found its route strongly disputed. On the 7th of January, 1885, it was attacked by the Arabs in °' f , e overwhelming- force and fighting- with the ferocity of tigers, of Gordon & . . . . some 5,000 of them attacking the 1,500 British drawn up in square, round which the fanatical Mahdists raged like storm-driven waves. The peril was imminent. Among those who fell on the British side was Colonel Burnaby, the famous traveler. The battle was a remarkably brief one, the impetuous rush of the Arabs being repulsed in about five minutes of heroic effort, during which there was imminent danger of their penetrating the square and making an end of the British troops. As it was the Arabs lost 1,100 in dead and a large number of wounded, the British e esert | ess t j lan 200 ; n a |] ^ £ ew d a y S afterwards the Arabs at- Fights J tacked again, but as before were repulsed with heavy loss. On the 19th of January the river was reached, and the weary troops bivouacked on its banks. Here they were met by four steamers which Gordon had sent down the Nile, after plating their hulls with iron as a protection against Arab bullets. Various circumstances now caused delay, and several days passed before General Wilson, in command of the expedition, felt it safe to advance on Khartoum. At length, on January 24th, two of the steamers, with a small force of troops, set out up the river, but met with so many THE ERA < '/■" ( '< >/. ( )NIES 333 obstacles that it was the 28th before they came within sight of the distant powers of Khartoum. From the hank came a shout t" the effecl that JChartoum had been taken and Gordon killed two days before. As they [rew nearer there came evidence that tli at was true. No British flag was seen flying ; not a shot came from the shore in aid of the jteamers. Masses of tl my could he- seen in all directions. A storm if musketry beat like hail on the iron sides of the boats. Wilson, believing jhe attempt hopeless, gave the order to turn and run at full speed down the fiver. liny did so amid a rattle of bullets and bursting of shells from the irtillery of the enemy. The news they brought was true. The gallant Gordon was indeed lead. The 1 \.iet events that took place are not known. Some attributed he fall of" the town to the act of a traitor, some to the storming of the rates. It does not matter now; it is enough to know that :he famous Christian soldier had been killed with all his er - a i Oordon lien about 4,000 persons being slaughtered, in a massacre h.i! continued for six hours. That was the end of it. The British soon after withdrew and left Khartoum and the Soudan in the undisputed possession :>f the Arabs. The Mahdi had keen victorious, though he did not live long to enjoy his triumph, he dying some months later. An'! so matters were left for nearly twelve years, when the British government, having arranged affairs in Egypt to its liking, ami put the country in a prosperous condition, decided to attempt thi [uest of the Soudan, and avenge the slaughter' Ion. An expedition was sent out in 1S90, which captured Dongola in September and defeated the der- vish force in several engagements. The pi ntinued, slowly but surely, up the Xile. In [897 other advantages were gained. But it was not until [898 that the Anglo-Egyptian force, under Sir Herbert Kitchener, known under his Egyptian title of the Sirdar, reached the vicinity of Khartoum. The Egyptian him were of other The Advance of null than those commanded by Baker Pasha. From a mob the British v,th arms in hand they had been drilled into brave and steady ™ d * e ? pt H ure J . of the Soudan soldiers, quite capable ol giving a good account of themseh 1 At Omdurman, near Khartoum, the dervishes were met in force and a fierce and final battle w ht. The Aral a crushing defeat, losing more than 10,000 men, while the British loss was only about ;oo. This brilliant victory ended the war on the Xile. The light was taken out of the Arabs. udan w; ;\pt by British arms, four- teen years after it had been lost to the Mahdi. 334 THE ERA OF COLONIES Asia has been invaded by the nations of civilization almost as actively as Africa, and to-day, aside from the Chinese and Japanese Empires, far the greater part of that vast continent is under foreign control, the only impor- tant independent sections being Turkey, Arabia, Persia, and Afghanistan. As matters now look, all of these, China included, before the twentieth cen- tury is very old may be in European hands, and the partition The Partition ,-a-i i i r a r ■ t^i of Asia °' Asia become as complete as that ot Africa. 1 he nations active in this work have been Great Britain, Russia, and France, while Holland is in possession of Java, Sumatra, and others of the valuable spice islands of the eastern seas. Of the enterprise of Great Bri- tain in extending her colonial dominion in Hindostan and Burmah we have already spoken. The enterprise of France here demands attention. France has always been remarkably active in her colonizing enterprises. In America she surpassed Great Britain in the rapid extension of her do- minion, though she fell far behind in the solidity of her settlements. It has been the same in Africa. France has spread out with extraordinary rapidity over the Soudan, while England has moved much more slowly French and a J British lWeth= but far more surely. The enterprises of the one are brilliant, ods of Colon- those of the other are solid, and it is the firmness with which the Anglo-Saxon race takes hold that makes it to-day the dominant power on the earth. The French have the faculty of assimilating themselves with foreign peoples, accepting their manners and customs and becoming their friends and allies. The British, on the contrary, are too apt to treat their colonial subjects as inferior beings, but they combine their haughtiness with justice, and win respect at the same time as they inspire distrust and fear. The colonizing enterprise of France in Asia, after the French had been ousted from India by Great Britain, directed itself to the peninsula of Indo- China. This was the only region of the Asiatic coast land which was at once safe to meddle with and worth the cost and trouble. In 1789 the em- peror of Annam accepted French aid in the conquest of the adjoining Operations of states of Cochin China and Tenquin. The wedge of French France in influence, thus entered, was not removed. Missionaries sought those far-off realms, and in time found themselves cruelly treated by the natives. As usual in such cases, this formed a pretext for in- vasion and annexation, and in 1862 a portion of Cochin China was seized upon by France, the remainder being annexed in 1867. Meanwhile, in J 863, the "protection" of France was extended over the neighboring state of Cambodia. North of Cochin China lies Annam, and farther north, bordering on China, is the province of Tonquin, inhabited largely by Chinese. The four THE ERA OF COLONIES 335 mentioned constitute the eastern half of Indo-China. The western portion is formed by the kingdom of Bunnah, now a British possession. Between these lies the contracted kingdom of Siam, the only portion of the jjeninsula that retains its im ' rhe attention of France was next directed to Tonquin, the northern tfovince of the Annamite Empire, which was invaded in 1873, ;im ' ' ls capi- ial city, Hanoi, captured. Here the French found foeman worthy of their steel. After the suppression of the Taiping rebellion in Jhina certain hands of the rebels took refuge in Tonquin, F | a _ s vhere they won themselves a new home by force of arms, and n [868 held the valley of the Rod River as far south as Hanoi. T! cnown as the "Black Flags," wore hold, restless, daring desperadoes, who hade the conquesl of the country a difficult task for the French. By their iid the invading French were driven from Hanoi and forced hack in def< The French resumed their work of conquest in 1SS2, again taking the ;ity ol Hanoi, and in December, [883, a stron ditiqn advanced up the ied River against the stronghold of Sontay, which, with the leighboring Bac Ninh, was looked upon, in a military sense, sontay° is the key to Tonquin. The enl seemed a desperate >n< . the expeditionary fore iisting of but 6,000 soldiers and 1,350 [oolies, while behind the stn rks of the place were 25,000 armed men, >f whom 10,000 were composed of the valiant Black Flags. But cannon erved the place of men. The river defences were b; I down and mi the citadd. During the succeeding night, towever, the French ran imminent risk of a disastrous repulse. At one ('clock at night, when all but the sentries were locked in slumber, a sudden hower of rockets was poured nn the thatched roofs of the huts in which ildiers lay asleep, and with savage yells the Chinese rushed from their rates and into the heart of the camp, firing briskly as they came. The ■ h troops, fatigued with the hard fighting of the preceding day, and lemoralized by the suddenness of the attack and the pluck } ' . A .Ni^ht Attack .ml persistent energy 01 the assailants, were thrown almost into »anic, and were ready to give way when the Chinese trumpets sounded the ecall and the enemy drew off. As it appi wards this attack mule by only 300 men. It would undoubtedly have stampeded the nvading forces but for the vigilance of the sentinels. I m the next day, 1 >ecember 16th, the fort was stormed, and taken after l desp< rate resistance ["here is but one incident 1 tult thai ieed relate. As the French rushed across the bridge that spanned the \. litch and approached the -ate ot the citadel, there was seen an instance of 336 THE ERA OF COLONIES cool and devoted bravery hardly excelled by that which was displayed by the famous " captain of the gate " who held the Tiber bridge against the Tuscan host. There, told off to guard the narrow passage between the stockade and the wall, stood a gallant Black Flag soldier. His Winchester repeating rifle was in his hand, its magazine filled with cartridges. Although the Citadel' 0t ^ a ^ tne F rencn force were at the gate, he quailed not. Shot after shot he fired, deliberately and calmly, and each bullet found its billet. Down went brave Captain Mehl, leader of the Foreign Leodon, with a ball through his heart, and other attackers were slain ; and when the stormers rushed in at last the heroic Black Flag, true to his trust, died with his face to the foe, as a soldier should die. The French, quick to recognize bravery either in friend or enemy, buried him with military honors when the day's fight was over, at the gate which he defended so well. The capture of this town, followed by that of Bac-Ninh, which was similarly taken by storm, completed the work of conquest and firmly estab- lished the French in their occupation of Tonquin. They had, however, still the Chinese to deal with. China claimed a suzerainty over this region and protested against the French invasion, and in 1885 went to war for the expulsion of the foreign conquerors. During the previous year the Black Flags had engaged in murderous raids on the French mission stations, in which they massacred nearly session io.ooo native Christians. In the war with China, they, with other Chinese troops, held the passes above Tuyen-Kivan for nearly a month against repeated assaults by the French, and were still in possession of their posts when peace was declared. China had yielded the country to France. In 1895 France gained the right to extend a railway from Annam into China, a concession which was protested against by Great Britain, then in possession of the adjoining province. In 1896 a treaty was made between these two powers, which fixed the Mekong or Cambodia River as their divid- ing line. As a result those powers now hold all of Indo-China except the much diminished kingdom of Siam. France has permitted the form of the old government to continue, the Emperor of Annam still reigning — though he does not rule, since the real power is in the hands of the French governor-general at Hanoi. While Great Britain and France were thus establishing themselves in the south, Russia was engaged in the conquest of the north and centre of the continent. The immense province of Siberia, crossing the whole width of the continent in the north, was acquired by Russia in the seven- teenth century, after which the progress of Russia in Asia ceased until the THE ERA OF COLONIES 337 ineteenth century, within which the territory of the Muscovite empire in lat continent has been very greatly extended. Two provi re wre •0111 Persia in 1828, as the prize of .1 victorious war, and in S50 the conquest of the region of the Caucasus was completed '!'° A f v f nce " f J J * ? Russia in Asia y the capture of the heroic Schamyl. In 1 S 5 8 the left hank f the great Amur River was gained by treaty with China, after having een occupied by foi Soon after this period, Russia began the work oi :st in the n [ Turkestan, that long-mysteriou i, inhabited in art by fierce desert nomades, who made Persia the spoil of leir devastating raids, and in part by intolerant settled tribes, among horn no Christian dared venture except at risk of his life. It remained in re.it measure a terra incognita until the Russi ms forced their way into it rms in hand. The southern border of Siberia was orradually extended downward ver the great region of the Mongolian until the northern limits f Turkestan were reached, and in 1S64 Russia invaded this region, sub- nine- the oasis of Tashkend after a fierce war. In [868 the march of ivasion reached Bokhara, and in 1873 tn< ' °f Khiva as conquered and annexed. In 187s 7° Khokand was con- ' ,c " xa 1 . ' J ' ....«' Turkestan uered after a fierce war. and annexed to Russia. This jmpleted the acquisition of the fertile provinces of Turkestan, but erce nomades ol the desert remained unsubdued, and the nd the country of the warlike Tekke Turcomans were still to conquer. 'his. which was accomplished in t88o 81, merits a fuller descriptii A broad belt of desert lands str ache, mtinenl •din Arabia, in the southwest, to the unless highlands of G or Shamo. 1 the far east. This desert zone is i n by a tract ol :eppe land that is covered with grass for a portion of th< irelv a large oasis is formed where the rivers and si. ling ■Din a mountain ranee, supply water to a fertile region, before I dves iii the sands of the desert beyond. Eastward of the Caspian, and south of the Aral, much of th ind is a salt desert, and the shells, mixed with the surface sand, ai: .irtlier evidence that it was in times not very remote ; f the bottom of a large inland sea, of which the land- The Deserts of & Central Asia )cked waters of Western Asia are a survival. Alone tiie Caspian th< rt sink gradually to the \\ svel, and the margins of the sea ar< alow th 33 8 THE ERA OF COLONIES dredging works have been carried out, and long jetties constructed, ships have to discharge their cargoes into barges two or three miles from the shore. This desert region marked for many years the southern limit of the Russian empire in Central Asia. A barren waste is a more formidable obstacle to an European army than the ocean itself ; and the Turkoman tribes of the oases not only refused to acknowledge the dominion of the White Czar, but successfully raided up to the very gates of his border forts in the spring, when the grass of the steppe afforded forage for their horses. The first successful advance across the desert zone was made by Kaufmann, whose expeditions followed the belt of fertile land which breaks the desert where the Amu Daria (the Oxus of classical times) Mows down from the central highlands of Asia to the great lake of the Aral Sea. But in 1878 the Russians began another series of conquests, starting not from their forts on the Oxus, but from their new ports on the southwestern shore of the Caspian. In this direction the most powerful of the Turkoman tribes were the Tekkes of the Akhal oasis. Between their strongholds and the Caspian The Country there was a desert nearly 150 miles wide, and then the ridge of the Tekke of the Kopet Dagh Mountains. The desert, which stretches omans f rom t ne northern shore of the Atrek River, is partly sandy waste, partly a tract of barren clayey land, baked hard by the sun ; broken by cracks and crevices in the dry season, and like a half-flooded brickfield when it rains. The water of the river is scanty, and not good to drink. It flows in a deep channel between steep banks, and so closely does the desert approach it that for miles one might ride within a hundred yards of its clay-banked canon without suspecting that water was so near. Where the Sumber River runs into the Atrek the Russians had an advanced post — the earthwork fort of Tchad, with its eight-gun battery. Following the Sumber, one enters the arid valleys on the south of the Kopet Dagh range. On this side the slopes rise gradually ; on the other side of the ridge there is a sharp descent, and sometimes the mountains form for miles a line of precipitous rocky walls. At the foot of this natural rampart lay the fortified villages of the Tekke Turkomans. Numerous streams descend from the Kopet Dagh, flowing to the north- eastward, and after a few miles losing themselves in the The Land of .-.-___. „ , •11 Akhal sands 01 the Kara Kum desert, between the mountain wall and the desert the ground thus watered forms a long, narrow oasis — the land of Akhal — to which a local Mussulman tradition says that Adam betook himself when he was driven forth from Eden. No doubt THE ERA OF COLONIES nuch <>f tin.' praise that lias been given to the beauty and fertility of this hree-hundred-mile strip of well-water den ground comes from the ontrast between it and the endless waste thai i in he horizon to the north-eastward. Corn and maize, cotton and wool, form -art of the wealth of its peo] le. rhey had the finest horses of all Turkes- in, and great herds and flocks of cattle, she I camels. The Herds and 'he streams turned numerous mills, and were led by a net- villagesof ;ork of tunnels and conduits through the fields and garden. the Tekkes "he villages wen 1 quad with an inner enclosure for the attle ; the kibitkas, or tents, and the mud huts of the Tekkes filling the pace between the inner and outer walls, and straggling outside in tem- orary camps that could be rapidly cleared away in war time. The over 100,000 si perhaps 140,000 in all — men. women and chil- They were united in a loose con y, acknowledged the lordship f the Khan of Merv, who had con of their own villages. Thev tided the Russian and Persian I -fully, tl inderin itions filling up the part ol the year when they were not busy with more upations. Alone- their fertile strip of land ran the caravan rack from Merv by Askabad to Kizil Arvat and the Caspian, and when hey v. it at war the Tekkes had thus an outlet for tieir surplus productions, among which \. autiful car- warriors ets, the handiwork of their women. In war they had proved elves formidable to all their neighbors. United with the warriors of Ierv, the men oi Akhal had cut to pieces a Khivan army in 1S55 and a ost of Persians in 1 > The conquest of Akhal had long been a subject of Russian ambition. t was not merely that they were anxious to put an end once for all to the lids of the Turkomans of the great oasis, but they regarded the pos ion of this region as a great step towards isolidation of their power 1 Ada. From Baku, the terminus of their railways in the Caucasus, it was asy tn ferry troops across the Caspian. What I 1 was a secure :>ad fron port on its eastern shore to their provinces on the Upper 1 , and anyone who knew untry must have felt that this road would ventually run through the Akhal and the Merv - Repulse of The first effort to subdue the Akhal wan i a Lomakine omplete failure. As soon as peace was concluded with and the '111-key. alter the war of 1 Gener; lakine was ent with a strom to the Caspian, whence he made his way by the aravan rout- desert to the strong nomade fori epe (" blue hills"), at the foot ol the mountain range mentioned. We s 340 THE ERA OF COLONIES shall say nothing more concerning this expedition than that the attempt to cake the fort by storm proved a complete failure, and the Russians were forced to retreat in disorder. To retrieve this disaster General Skobeleff, the most daring of the Rus- sian generals, who had gained great glory in the siege of Plevna, was selected, and set out in 1880. On the 1st of January, 1881, he came in sight of the fort, with an army of 10,000 picked troops, and fifty-four can- non. Behind the clay ramparts lay awaiting him from 20,000 to 30,000 of valiant nomades, filled with the pride of their recent victory. The first bat- Skobeleff and teries opened fire on the 8th, and the siege works were pushed the Siege of so rapidly forward that the Russians had gained all the out- eo epe works by the 17th. This steady progress was depressing to the Turkomans, who were not used to such a method of fighting-. The can- nonade continued resistlessly, the wall being breached on the 23d and the assault fixed for the next day. Two mines had been driven under the ram- part, one charged with gun-powder and one with dynamite, and all wa ready for the desperate work of the storming parties. Early the next day all the Russian guns opened upon the walls, and a false attack was made on the west side of the fort, the men firing inces santly to distract the attention of the Turkomans, while the actual column of attack was formed and held ready on the east. Another column, 2,000 strong, waited opposite the south angle, the soldiers ready and eager for th assault. A little after eleven the mines were fired. The explosion caused mo mentary panic among the garrison, and in the midst of the confusion the two storming columns rushed for the breaches. But before they could climb the heaps of smoking debris the Tekkes were back at thei The Fort Car- l , . , ° , . r e -a j 1 ried by Storm P os ts, and it was through a sharp fire 01 rifles and musket: that the Russians pushed in through the first line of defence The fight in and around the breaches was a close and desperate struggle but as the stormers in front fell, others clambered up to replace them, am at the same time Haidaroff, converting his false attack into a real one escaladed the southern wall. " No quarter !" had been the shout of the Russian officers as they dashe< forward at the head of the stormers. The Tekkes expected none. The fought in desperate knots, back to back, among the huts andl A Frightful tents of the town, but at last they were driven out by the easf Massacre J J I side. Skobeleff did not make Lomakine's mistake of blocks ing their way. He let them go ; but once they were out on the plair| the Cossack cavalry was launched in wild pursuit, and for ten long milel THE ERA A.V ir i Iran! well as iii' :n w< :n I nvn or than 8,000 Tekkes fell in tl lit. A I this was true, Skobi id that he had the slain counted, and that it was so. Six thou lundred bodies wi inside the ; eight thousand more strewed the ten miles of the plain. Skobeleff looked on the 1 e as a n ry element in the con- quest "1 hold it as a principle," . "that in Asia the duration irtion to the slaughter you inflict on the enemy. Tin r you hit them the longer they will keep qui r it." No women, he added, were killed by the troops undi com- mand, and he set at 1 il x-rty 700 Persian women who Tepe. After ten miles the pursuit was stopped. is no further re- Not a shot was fired cean, in North America, a greater < \ - • nt, one filled with more promise for mankind, one destined to loom I on the horizon of time, was meanwhile taking place, the ommonwealth of the United Stat' To this far-extending Republic of the West, a nation almosl solely an outgrowth of the nineteenth century, our attention xheOreat needs now to ho turned. Its history is one full of greal steps Republic ot of progress, illuminated by a hundred events of the highi promise and signifii ind it stands to-day as a beacon light of national progress and human liberty to the world, "the land of the brave and the home of i hi A hundred years ago the giant here described was hut a babe, a new- born nation just beginn feel the strength of its limbs. It is with this section of its history tiiat we are here concerned, its days of origin and childhood. Two events of extraordinary significance in human history rise is in the final quarter of the i lury, the French Revo lution and the American Declaration of Independence and its results. 1 he first of these revolutionary events we have dealt with; the second remains to he i ire ;i nted. 1 here is one circumstance thai impresses us most strongly in this greal event, the remarkable group of aide men who laid the foundation of the American commonwealth. Amon e hands gave The Great Men tie first impulse to the ship of state Were men of such lloble who founded proportions as George Washington, the t man of the century not only in An but in the whole world ; Benjamin Franklin. who came closely to the level of Washington in another field .if human greatness; Patrick Henry, win v still stir the soul like trumpet-blasts ; Thomas fefferson, to whose genius we owe the inimit- able " Declaration of Independence;" Thomas Paine, v had the point of a sword and the strength of an army John Paul Jones the hero 343 344 HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY of the most brilliant feat of daring' in the whole era of naval warfare, and Alexander Hamilton, whose financial genius saved the infant state in one of the most critical moments of its career. These were not the whole of that surpassing coterie, but simply in their special fields the greatest, and it is doubtful if the earth ever saw an abler group of statesmen than those to whom we owe the Constitution of the United States. It is not our purpose to tell the story of the American Revolution. That lies back of the borders of time within which this work is confined But some brief statement of its results is in order, as an introduction to the nineteenth century record of the United States. It was a country in almost an expiring state when it emerged from the „, , fierce death struersde of the Revolution. It had been swept by Weakness of ^> & .... the States fire and sword, its resources destroyed, its industries ruined, After the \i s government financially'bankrupt, its organization in a state Revolution , . . ........ .. ot tottering weakness, little left it but the courage ot its people and the aspirations of its leaders. But in courage and aspiration safety and progress lie, and with those for its motive forces the future of the country was assured. The weakness spoken of was not the only or the worst weakness with which the new community had to contend. Though named the United States, its chief danger lay in its lack of union. The thirteen recent colonies — now states — were combined only by the feeblest of bonds, one calculated to carry them through an emergency, not to hold them together under all the contingencies of human affairs. Practically they were thirteen distinct nations, not one close union ; a group of communities with a few ties of common self-interest, but otherwise disunited and distinct. "Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union " had been adopted in 1777 and ratified by the agreement of all the states in 17S1. But the Confederation was not a union. Each state claimed to be a sovereign com- monwealth, and little power was given to the central government. The weak point in the Articles of Confederation was that they rh ? Artlc,es of rave Congress no power to lay taxes or to levy soldiers. It Confederation & ° * ' J could merely ask the states for men and money, but must wait till they were ready to give them — if they chose to do so at all. It could make treaties, but could not enforce them ; could borrow money, but could not repay it ; could make war, but could not force a man to join its armies ; could recommend, but had no power to act. The states proposed to remain independent except in minor particulars. They were jealous of one another and of the general Congress. "We are," said Washington, "one nation to-day and thirteen to-morrow." That well HOW THE UNIT, S ENTERED THE expressed the state of the case ; no true union existed ; the free to join hands more closely or to drift more widely asund Tin- time- from the revolt against the stamp duties in 1775 to the inauguration in the National Government under which we live lias been called the critical period of Ami rican history. It was a period \. displayed the inexperience (.1 the Americans in sound financiering. There is hardly an evil in finances that en e illustrated by some event in American affairs at that time. The Americans began the war without any preparation, they conducted it on credit, and at the end of fourteen ; three millions of people w> hundred millions of dollars or more in debt. The exact amount will never be known. C State 1 issued paper currency in unlimited quantities and upon no security. The Americans were deceived themselves in believing that their products were essential to the welfan of Eu ope, ind thai all European nations would speedily m; hem for lase .. ' the control ol American commerce. It ma) bat the Americans wholly 1 timated their importance in the world at that time; they thought that to cut n(i England from American comm would ruin England ; they thought that th wal of their commerce' upon France would enrich France so much that the French king, for so inestimable a privili ell afford to loan them, an them, money. The doctrine of the rights of man ran riot in America. Paper currency me the infatuation of the day. It was thought that paper currency would meet, all the demands for money, would win American independence. Even so practical a man as Franklin, then in France, said : " I 1 ol paper currency is not understood on this side the water ; and, indeed, the whole is a mystery even to the politicians, how we h; able to tinue. a war lour years without money, and how we could pay with paper that had no previously fixed fund appropriated specifically to redeem it. This currency, .is we manage it, is a wonderful machine: it perform office wh issue it; it pays and clothe: 1 provides victuals and ammunition, and when we are obliged to issue a quantity excessive, ii p.n s its< il by depreciation." If the taxing power is the most augu vernment, the abuse of the taxing power is the most serious sin government can commit. No one will deny that the Americans were guilty of committing mi vous financial offenses during the critical period of their history. Tiny abused libert) bj demanding and by exercising the rights of nationality and at the same time neglecting or refusing to burden themselves with the taxation try to support nationality. 346 HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY The inability of the Congress of the Confederation to legislate under the provisions of the Articles compelled their amendment ; for while the exigencies of war had forced the colonies into closer union, — a "perpetual league of friendship," — they had also learned additional les- Constitutions & L J , . of Colonies sons in the theory and administration of local government; and Confeder. f or eac h f the colonies, with the exception of Connecticut and Rhode Island, had transformed colonial government into government under a constitution. The people had not looked to Congres , as a central power ; they considered it as a central committee of the States. The individualistic tendencies of the colonies strengthened when the colonies transformed themselves into commonwealths. The struggle, which began between the thirteen colonies and the imperial Parliament, was now transformed into a struggle between two tendencies in America, the tendency toward sovereign commonwealths and the tendency toward nationality. The first commonwealth constitutions did not acknowledge the supreme authority of Congress ; there was yet lacking that essential bond between the people and their general govern- ment, the power of the general government to address itself directly to individuals. Interstate relations in 1787 were scarcely more perfect than they had been fifteen years before. The understanding of American affairs was more common, but intimate political association between the common- wealths was still unknown. The liberty of nationality had not yet been won. A peculiar tendency in American affairs from their beginning is seen in the succession of written constitutions, instruments peculiar to America. The commonwealths of the old Confederation demonstrated the necessity for a clearer definition of their relations to each other and of the associa- tion of the American people in nationality. A sense of the necessity for commercial integrity led to the calling of the Philadelphia Convention to amend the old Articles, but when the Con- vention assembled it was found that an adequate solution of the large problem of nationality could not be found in an amendment of the old "Articles of Confederation," but called for a new and more vigorous Con- m „ . stitution. This Convention combined the associated state TheConstitu= . .... , , ,. , , tional Con= into a strongly united nation, possessed ot all the powers 01 vention and nationality, civil, financial and military. It organized a tri- its Work . r r- t~* ■ c partite government, consisting of Supreme Executive, Su- preme Legislative, and Supreme Judicial departments, each with all the power "necessary to make it feared and respected." While the Upper House of Congress still represented the states as separate commonwealths, the Lower House represented the people as individuals; it standing, not HOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY 317 (or a group oi distinct communities, but for a nation of people. And to this House was given the sole power " to lay and collect taxes, duties, iin] and excises, and to pay the debt, and provide for the common defence and general welfare ol the United States." With this Constitution the United States of America first came into existence ; a strong, energetic and capable nation ; its government pi of all the power, necessary to the full control of the states, and full ability to make itselt respected abroad; its people possessed of all the civil rights \ et known or demanded. \ et lib people, in their political privileges, were still controlled by the constitutions ol the states, and these fixed close restrictions on the right of suffrage, the electorate being confined to a small body whose ownership of real estate and whose religious opinions agreed with the ideas existing in lial times. The property each voter was required to possess differed in different commonwealths. In New Jersey he must have u estri . t - property to the value- of fifty pounds, in Maryland and the the Right ol Carolinas an if fifty acres, in Delaware a freehold Suffrage estate of known value, in Georgia an estate ol ten dollars or follow a lanic trade; in New York, if he would vote for a member of Assembly he must 1 told of twenty pounds, and if he would vote for State Senator, it must be a hundred. Massachusetts required an elector to own a freehold estate worth sixty pounds or to possess an annual income of three pounds. Connecticut was satisfied if his estate was of the yearly value of seven dollars, and Rhode Island required him to own the value of one hun- dred and thirty-four dollars in land. Pennsylvania required him to be a freeholder, but Xew Hampshire and Vermont were satisfied with the pay- ment of a poll-tax. The number of electors was still further affected by the religious opin- ions required of them. In Xew Jersey, in New Hampshire, in Vermont, in Connecticut, and in South Carolina, no Roman Catholic could vote ; Maryland and Massachusetts allowed •' those ol the Christian religion" to exercise the franchise, hut the "Christian religion" in Massa- Religious Quai ; - chusetts was of the Congregational Church. North Carolina fications of required her electors to believe in the divine authority of the * oters Scriptures; Delaware was satisfied with a belief in the Trinity and in the inspiration of the Bible ; Pennsylvania allowed those, otherwise qualified, to vote who believed "in one Cod, in the reward of good, and the punish- ment of evil, and in the inspiration of the Scriptures." In Xew York, in Virginia, in Georgia, and in Rhode Island, the Protestant faith was pre- 343 HO IV THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY dominant, but a Roman Catholic, if a male resident, of the age of twenty- one years or over, could vote in Rhode Island. The property qualifications which limited the number of electors were higher for those who sought office. If a man wished to be governor of New Jersey or of South Carolina, his real and personal property must amount to ten thousand dollars ; in North Carolina to one thousand pounds; in Georgia to two hundred and fifty pounds or two hundred and fifty acres Property Quali- °f l ar >d \ ' n New Hampshire to five hundred pounds; in Mary- fications of land to ten times as much, of which a thousand pounds must be of land ; in Delaware he must own real estate ; in New York he must be worth a hundred pounds; in Rhode Island, one hundred and thirty-four dollars ; and in Massacusetts a thousand pounds. Connec- ticut required her candidate for governor to be qualified as an elector, as did New Hampshire, Vermont, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. In all the com- monwealths the candidate for office must possess the religious qualifications required of electors. From these statements it is evident that the suffrage in the United States was greatly limited when, after the winning of American indepen- dence, the Constitution of the United States was framed and the common- wealths had adopted their first constitutions of government. It may be said that in 1787 the country was bankrupt, and America was without credit, Condition of the anc ^ t ^ at °^ a population of three million souls, who, by our Country in present ratio, would represent six hundred thousand voters, less than one hundred and fifty thousand possessed the right to vote. African slavery and property qualifications excluded above four hundred thousand men from the exercise of the franchise. It is evident, then, that at the time when American liberty was won American liberty had only begun ; the offices of the country were in the possession of the few, scarcely any provision existed for common education, the roads of the coun- try maybe described as impassable, the means for transportation, trade, and commerce as feeble. If the struggle for liberty in America was not to be in vain, the people of the United States must address themselves directly to the payment of their debts, to the enlargement of the franchise, to im- provements in transportation, and to the creation, organization, and support of a national system of common taxation. It is these great changes which p constitute the history of this country during the nineteenth Debt and Ex- century. tension of js^\\ t nese have been gained since the adoption of the Constitution. The remarkable financial operations of Alexander Hamilton — by which the crushing load of debt of thenew nation was funded HOW THE UNITED S > ENTERED THE ■ RY 349 for payment in; >ms tariff established as in- revenue, and ; for payin claims of the soldiers of the Revolution— sav< credit and secured the honor of the nation. As regards the franchise:, it w itly extended during the nineteenth century. By tin nal was ited property qualifications for suffrage had dis; cl in nearlj , and by the middle of the century such qualifications had been abandoned in them all. Th< religious character had van liirty ye lier. As yet, however, the right to vote was limited to "free, white, male citizens." Twenty years afterwards, on March r greal ■ tension of the righl when, in accordance with the Fifteenth Amendment to th ititution, it was proclaimed by Hamilton Fish, , that tin: right of citi/ens o( this country to vote could not be denied or abri or by any State on ount of mdition of servitude. Universal suffi far as male citizens w< erned, thus became common condition of American political life in 1S70. But the strus for liberty in this direction was nol ided. Female citi >out tin' middle of the century, to their claim to the same right, and with such effort t : d the right to vote at all elections in four ol the States — Wyomii Utah, and Idaho — by the end of 1 tury, and partial rights of suffrage in a majority of the Stat< s. The outlook is that b< irs universal sul n its fullest scum.: will b '• in tii'- I " nit. (1 States. With t ward movements of the millions of human beings who have occupied the North Amer ntinent have gone the institutions and constitutions of the east, modified in their journey westward by the varying conditions of the life of th I ititutions of 177') have d into extraordii ;th l>y su< id additions made by the more than : nswhichha held west of the origin : ti- Development in tutions resemble ides rath 1 briel state Consti- tuents of the fundamental ide But I constitutions, of which tho id of Montana and Wash- i on are a type, express verj clearly the opinions ol t : rican people in government at the present time. The earnest desire shown in them fo accurate definition of the theory and the administration of government pr how anxiously the j it all times consider the inter] ind with ation, it ma; id, they delegate u nt to . 1 ernors 35° (JOW THE UNITED STATES ENTERED THE CENTURY The struggle for liberty will never cease, for with the progress of civili- zation new definitions of the wants of the people are constantly forming in the mind. The whole movement of the American people in government, from the simple beginnings of representative government in Virginia, when the little' parliament was called, to the present time, when nationality is en- throned and mighty commonwealths arc become the component parts of the "more perfect union," has been toward the slow but constant realiza- tion of the rights and liberties of the people. Education, for Progress in the ... 1111 United States which no commonwealth made adequate provision a century ago, is now the first care of the State. Easy and rapid trans- portation, wholly unknown to our fathers, is now a necessary condition of daily life. Trade has so prospered that the accumulated wealth of the country is more than sixty billions of dollars. Newspapers, magazines, books and pamphlets are now so numerous as to make it impossible to con- tain them all in hundreds of libraries, and the American people have become the largest class of readers in the world. A century ago there were but six cities of more than eight thousand people in this country ; the number is now more than five hundred. Three millions of people have become seventy-five millions. The area of the origi- nal United States has expanded from eight hundred and thirty thousand square miles to four times that area. With expansion and growth and the amelioration in the conditions of life, the earnest problems of government have been brought home to the people by the leaders in the State, by the clergy, by the teachers in schools and colleges, and by the press. But though we may be proud of these conquests, we are compelled in the last analysis of our institutions, to return to a few fundamental notions of our government. We must continue the representative idea based upon the doctrine of the equality of rights and exercised by representative assem- blies founded on popular elections ; and after our most pleasing contempla- tion of the institutions of America, we must return to the people, the founda- tion of our government. Their wisdom and self-control, and these alone, will impart to our institutions that strength which insures their perpetuity CHAPTER XXIII. Expansion of the United States from Dwarf to Giant [\ 1775, when the British colonies in America struck the first blow for independence, they were of dwarfish stature as compared with the present superb dimensions ol the United States. Though the war t'ith Frani 1 had given them possession of the great < )hio Valley, the settled lortion of the country lay between the Alleghanies and the Atlantic, and the I States were confined to a narrow strip along the ocean lorder of the continent. But before and during the Revolutionary War pathfinders and pioneers at work. Chief among them was the noted hunter Daniel Boone, the splorer and settler of the "Dark and Bloody Ground" of Kentucky. Jefore him daring men had crossed the mountains, and after him came 'thers, so thai by the end of the Revolution the hand of civilization was rmly laid on the broad forest land of Kentucky and Tennessee. The rich ountry north of the Ohio, where the British ; sed a number of forts, iras captured for the United States by another daring adventurer, Geo logers Clark, who led a body of men down the Ohio, took and held Jritish forts, and sa\ northwest to the struggling States. The bound- aries of the Unit in iSoo, as established by the treaty of pi t'ith Great Britain, extended from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi, nd from the 1 Lakes north to Florida on the south. Florida, hen held by Spain, include!! a strip of land extending to the Mississippi liver, so that the new republic was cut off from the Gulf of Mexico by lomain belonging to a 1 country. The area thus acquired by the new lation was over 827,000 square miles. It was inhabited in [800 by a popu- it ion of 5, 300,00a The vast and almost wholly unknown territory west of the Mississippi, laimed by France, in virtue of her discoveries and settlements on the gi iver, until 1763, when it was ceded to Spain, was held by that country in 800. This cession gave Spain complete control of the li arse ol the Mississippi, since her province of Florida extended to the east hank of the trean:. And she held it in a mam 1 proved deeply annoying to the Vmerican settlers in the west, to whom free, navigation of the Mississippi •f great and growing importance 35i 352 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES These settlers were increasing in numbers with considerable rapidity. The daring enterprise of Daniel Boone and other fearless pioneers had opened up the fertile lands of Kentucky and Tennessee. The warlike boldness of Colonel Clark had gained the northwest territory for the new nation. Into this new country pioneer settlers poured, over The Settlement the mounta j ns anc j J own the Ohio, and by the opening- of the of the West . . century villages and towns had been built in a hundred places, and farmers were widely felling the virgin woods and planting their grain in the fertile soil. Kentucky and Tennessee had already been organized ass states, and their admission was quickly followed by that of Ohio, which entered the Union in 1803. In the same year an event of the highest importance took place, the acquisition of the great Louisiana territory by the United States. It has been stated above that the action of Spain gave great annoyance to the settlers in the country west of the Alleghanies. To these the natural commercial outlet to the sea was the Mississippi River, and the free use Spain Closes the °^ tms stream was forbidden by Spain, through whose Mississippi to country ran its lower course. Spain was so determined to retain for herself the exclusive navigation of the great river that in 1786 the new American republic withdrew all claim upon it, agree- ing to withhold any demand for navigation of the Mississippi for twenty- five years. This action proved to be hasty and unwise. The West filled up with unlooked-for rapidity, and the settlers upon the Mississippi soon began to insist on free use of its waters, their irritation growing so great that the United States vainly sought in 1793 to induce Spain to open the stream to American craft. This purpose was attained, however, in 1795, when a treaty was made which opened the Mississippi to the sea for a term of three years, with permission for Americans to use New Orleans as a free port of entry, and place goods there on deposit. Five years later (1800), by an article in a secret treaty between Spain and France, the vast province of Louisiana, extending from the source to the mouth of the Mississippi River, and westward to the Rocky Mountains, was ceded by Spain to France, from which country Spain had France Obtains received it in I?6 , Towards the end of 1S01 Napoleon Bona- Louisiana ' ° l parte, then at the head of French affairs, sent out a fleet and army ostensibly to act against San Domingo, but really to take possession of New Orleans. When the secret of this treaty leaked out, as it soon did, there was great excitement in the United States, the irritation being increased by a EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STA't 353 ;h order which withdrew the right of deposit of A an- ise in New Orleans, granted by the treaty of 1795, and failed to substil ny other place for that city, in accordance with the terms of the treaty, to strong was the feeling that a Pennsylvania S mator introduced a resolu- ion into Congress, authorizing President | 1 to call out 50,000 lilitia and occupy New Orleans. But ,; ly decided that it rould be better and cheaper to buy it than to fight for it, and in January, 803, made an appropriation of $2,000,000 for its pun I lent upon sent James Monroe to 1'aris to co-operate with Robert R. Living- ton, United States Minister to France, in tin Fortunately for th< I ted States a new war between England and : rance was then imminent, in the event of which Napoleon felt that he ould not long hold his American acquisition against the powerful British avy. Not only New Orleans, but the whole of Louisiana, •ould probably be lost to him, and just then money for his ® " na •ars was of more consequence than wild lands beyond the ea. Therefore, to the surprise of the American Minister, he was asked to r for the entire territory. This was on April nth. On the 2th Monroe reached 1'aris. The two commissioners earnestly debated on in- offer. Tlie_\- had n^ authority to dose with such a proposition, but by fie time they could receive fresh instructions from Washington Iden pportunity might be lost, and Gnat Britain deprive us of the mighty \\ in ocean telegraph cable would have been to them an invaluable boon. As : was, there was no time to hesitate, and they decided to ith the ffer, fixing the purchase price at $10,000,000. Napoleon demanded m ml in the end the price fixed upon was $15,000,000, of which $3,750,000 /as to be paid to American citizens who held claims against Spain. A reaty to tins effect was signed April 30 1803. The news fell upon Spain like a thunderbolt. She filed a protest gainst the treaty -based, probably, on a ondition <>f her cession of Louisiana to France, to the effect that it should not be parted with by that ountry. But Napoleon was not the man to pay any attention to a prol rom a jiower so weak as Spain, and the matter was one with which the Jnited States was not concerned. President Jefferson highly now the Pur- ipproved of the purchase, and called an extra session ol the chase Was r ... , . ■ Received >enate for its consideration. It met with some vigorous sition in that body, based upon almost absolute ignorance of the value >f the territory involved; but it was ratified in October, 1803, and isiana became ours. The territory thus easily and cheaply acqu idded about 9:0,000 square miles to the United States, more than 354 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES doubling its area. It is now divided up into a large number of States, and includes much of the most productive agricultural land of the United States. The members of the Senate who opposed the ratification of the treaty of purchase were in a measure justified in their doubt. Almost nothing was! known of the country involved, and many idle legends were afloat concerning it. Hunters and trappers had penetrated its wilds, but the stories told by them had been transformed out of all semblance of truth. In order to dispel this ignorance and satisfy these doubts, the President Ignorance of , . , , , ... , , f ,, r the Country determined to send an exploring expedition to the tar West, with the purpose of crossing the Rocky Mountains, seeking the head-waters of the Columbia River, and following that stream to its mouth. The men chosen to lead this expedition were William Clark — ■ brother of George Rogers Clark, of Revolutionary fame — and Merriwether Lewis. Both of these were army officers, and they were well adapted for the arduous enterprise which they were asked to undertake. Lewis and Clark left St. Louis in the summer of 1803. They encamped for the winter on the bank of the Mississippi opposite the mouth of the The Lewis Missouri River. The company included nine Kentuckians, and Clark who were used to Indian ways and frontier life, fourteen Expedition soldiers, two Canadian boatmen, an interpreter, a hunter and a negro boatman. Besides these, a corporal and guard with nine boatmen were engaged to accompany the expedition as far as the territory of the Mandans. The party carried with it the usual goods for trading with the Indians — looking-glasses, beads, trinkets, hatchets, etc., and such provisions as were necessary for the sustenance of its members. While the greater part of the command embarked in a fleet of three large canoes, the hunters and pack- horses followed a parallel route along the shore. In this way, in the spring of 1804, the ascent of the Missouri was commenced. In June the country of the Osages was reached, then the lands occupied by the Ottawa tribes, and finally, in the fall, the hunting grounds of the Sioux. Here the leaders of the expedition ordered cabins to be constructed, and camped for the winter among the Mandans, in latitude 27 degrees 21 minutes north. They found in that country plenty of game, buffalo and deer being abun- dant ; but the weather was intensely cold and the expedition was hardly prepared for the severity of the climate, so that its members suffered greatly. In April a fresh start was made and the party continued to ascend the Missouri, reaching the great falls by June. Here they named the tributary waters and ascended the northernmost, which they called the Jefferson River, EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATUS intil further navigation was impossible; then Captain Lewis with three com- janions left the expedition in camp and started oul on foot toward the mountains, in search of the friendly Shoshone Indians, from whom he jxpected assistance in his projected journey across the mountains. On the 1 2th of Augusl he discovered the source of the Jefferson River in a defile of the Rocky Mountains and crossed the dividing ridge, upon the sther side of which his eyes were gladdened by the discovery of a small rivulet which (lowed toward tiie west. Here wa f irrefutable "that reat backbone of earth" hail been passed. The intrepid explorer ivith joy that this little stream danced out toward the setting The Head- ;un — toward the Paci ean. Meeting a force ol Sho- Watersofthe jjhones and persuading them to accompany him on his return ° Ul " to the main body of th dition, Captain Lewis sought his companions ance more. Cap! tin Clark then went forward to determine their future :ourse, and coming to the river which his companion had discovered, he named it the Lewis River. A number of Indian horses were procured from their red-skinned friends and the ex] pushed on to the broad plains of the western slope. The latter part of their p ; in the mountains had keen slow and painful, because of the early fall of snow, but the plains pn ;ented all the charm of early autumn. In October the Kaskaskia River was reached, ind, leaving the horses and whatever bag ould be dispensed with in charge of the Indians, the command embarked in canoes and descended to the mouth of the Columbia River, upon the south bank ol which, four hundred miles from their starting point upon L ,Tv"' ° ' l Columbia this stream, they passed the .second, winter. Much of the return journey was a tight with hostile Indians, and the way proved to be much more difficult than it had been found while advancing toward the west. Lewis was wounded before reaching home, by the accidental dis- charge of a gun in the hands of one of his force. Finally, after an absence of two years, the expedition returned to its starting point, the leaders reaching Washington while Congress was in session. drams kA land were immediately made- to them and to their subordinates Captain Lewis was rewarded also with the governorship ol Missouri. Clark was appointed brigadier-general for the territory of Upp< r Louisiana, and in i S 1 3 was made governor of Missouri. When this Territory became a State he was appointed superintendent of Indian affairs, which office he tilled till his death. The second acquisition of territory by the United States embraced the peninsula of Florida. The Spanish colony of Florida was divided into two 356 EXPANSION OF THE UNITED STATES sections, known as Eastern and Western Florida, the latter extending from the Appalachicola River to the Mississippi River, and Spain's irritat- cutt i ng r ff the Americans of Florida and Alabama from all ac- ing Action & cess to the Gulf. Spain set up a customhouse at the mouth of the Alabama River, and levied heavy duties on goods to or from the country up that stream. The United States was not willing to acknowledge the right of Spain to this country. It claimed that the Louisiana purchase included the region east of the Mississippi as far as the Perdido River, — the present western boundary of Florida — and in 1S10 a force was sent into this es ern on a coun t rv w hich took possession of it, with the exception of the> city of Mobile. That city was occupied by General Wilkinson, commander-in-chief of the army, in 1813, leaving to Spain only the country between the Perdido and the Atlantic Ocean and south of Georgia. Throughout these years the purpose had grown in the southern states to gain this portion of the Spanish dominion, as well as Western Florida, for the United States. On January 15 and March 3, 1811, the United States Congress passed in secret — and its action was not made known until 1 818 — acts which authorized the President of the United States to take " temporary possession " of East Florida. The commissioners appointed under these acts, Matthews and Mitchell, both Georgians, stirred up insurrection in the coveted territory, and, when President Madison refused to sustain them, the state of Georgia formally pronounced Florida OeneraUackson needful to its own peace and welfare, and practically declared invades East- war on its private account. But its expedition against Florida came to nothing. In 1S14, General Andrew Jackson, then in command of United States forces at Mobile, made a raid into Pensacola, and drove out a British force which had been placed there. He afterwards restored the place to the Spanish authorities and retired. Four years after, during the Seminole war, Jackson, annoyed by Spanish assistance given to the Indians, again raided Eastern Florida, captured St. Marks and Pensacola, hung Arbuthnot and Ambruster, two Englishmen who were suspected of aiding the Seminoles, as " outlaws and pirates," and again demonstrated the fact that Florida was at the mercy of the United States. The action of Jackson was unauthorized by the government, and his hanging the Englishmen without taking the trouble to make % J? rc .f sy Mexico ti United States citizens amounting to about $3,000,000. The territory thus acquired was 545,783 square miles in extent. Of its immense California and value we need scarce speak. It will suffice to -ay that it gave New Mexico the United Stales the gold mines of California and the silver mines of Nevada, together with the still more valuable fertile fields of the California lowlands. Five years afterwards, to settle a border dispute, another tract of land, south of New Mexico, 45.535 square miles in extent, was purchased for the sum of $10,000,000. This is known as the Gadsden purchase, the treaty being negociated by James Gadsden. Thus in less than ten years the United States acquired more than 1,220,000 square miles of territory, increasing its domain by nearly three-fourths. These new acquisitions carried it across tin- continent in a broad band, giving it a coast line on the Pacific nearly equal to that on the Atlantic, and adding enourmously to its mineral and agricultural wealth. Still another extensive acquisition remain be made. Long before, when the daring pioneers of Russia overran Siberia, parties of them en the narrow Bering Strait and took possession of the northwestern section of the American continent. This territory, lone- known as Russian America, embraced the broad peninsular extension west of the :41st degree of west longitude, and a narrow strip of land stretching down LSt The Acquistion as far south as the parallel of 54 d . 40 minutes. It of Russian included also all the coast islands and the Aleutian Archi- pelago, with the exception of Copper ami Bering Islands on the Siberian it. This territory was of little value or advantage to Russia, and in 1S67 360 EXPANSION OF THE UN/TED STATES that country offered to sell it to the United States for $7,200,000. The offer was accepted without hesitation, the result being- an addition of 577.000 square miles to our territory. As regards the value of this acquisition something more remains to be said. The active Yankee prospectors have found Alaska — as the new territory was named — far richer than its original owners dreamed of. It was like the story of California repeated. First were the valuable fur seals. which haunted certain islands of Bering Sea. Then were the fur animals of the mainland. To these must be added the wealth of the rivers, which were found to swarm with salmon and other food fishes Next may be named the forests, which cover the coast regions for hundreds of square miles. Finally, the country proved to be rich in mineral Alaska wealth, and especially in gold. The recently discovered gold deposits lie principally on the British side of the border, the Klondike diggings — developed in 1897 — being in Canada. But gold has been mined in Alaska for years, and probably exists on most of the tribu- taries of the Yukon River, so that the country may yet prove to be a second California in its golden treasures. The final acquisition of territory by the United States came in 1899, as a result of the Spanish-American War of 1898. The treaty of peace gave to this country a series of highly fertile tropical islands, consisting of Porto Rico in the West Indies, and the Philippine Archipelago in the Asiatic Seas. To these must be added a temporary protectorate over, and possibly the future ownership of, the broad and fertile West Indian Island of Cuba. In 1898 there came by peaceful means another accession of territory, the Hawaiian group of islands in the Central Pacific. These, with some islands of minor importance — including Guam, in the Ladrone group, also acquired from Spain — constitute the recent island accessions of the United States. Their areas are: Porto Rico, 3,530; Hawaii, 6,564; and the Island Acquis!- „, ... .. , . , , , tions Phnippmes, 116,000 square nines; making a total 01 about 1 26,000 square miles. As a consequence of those various acces- sions of territory, the United States now has an area of, in round numbers, 3,732,000 square miles, more than four times its area in 1S00. As a result of these several acquisitions this country has grown from one of the smaller nations to nearly the largest nation in area, on the earth, while its population has increased from 5,300,000 in 1800 to about 75,000,000 in 1900. Its few small cities at the beginning of the century have been replaced by a con- siderable number of large ones, three of them with more than 1,000,000 in- habitants each, while New York, the largest, is now the second city in popu- lation on the earth. CHAPTER XXIV The Development of Democratic Institutions in America MODERN democracy is often looked upon as something peculiarly secular, unreligious, or even irreligious in its origin. In truth, how- ever, it has its origin in religious aspirations quite as much as modern art or architecture or literature. To the theology o( Calvin, the founder of the Republic oi G< neva, grafted upon the sturdy independence of English and Scotch middle classes, our American democracy owes lis birth. James I. well app iated that the principles of uncompromising Protestantism as incompatible with monarch}- as with the hierarchy which the}- swept aside. Each man by his theology was brought into direct personal respon sibility to his God, without the intervention of priest, bishop, or pope, and without any allegiance to his king except so far as it . ' with his a! ance to the King of kings. Macaulay has struck this note of Puritan republicanism when he s.iys that the Puritans regarded them- _, „ ,. . The Religious selves as " Kings by the right of an earlier creation , priests origin of by the interposition of an Almighty hand." As John Fiske Modern Dem- says, James Stuart always treasured up in his memory the day when a Puritan preacher caught him by the sleeve and called him " God's silly vassal." " A Scotch Presbytery," cried the kin-, "agrees as well with monarchy as God and the devil. Then [ack and Tom ami Will and Dick shall meet, and at their pleasure censure me and my council and all our proceedings ! " But the democracy which was founded in Xew England as the lc outcome of the religious principles for which the Puritans left Old England was not democracy .is we know it to-day. The Puritans, for the most part. believed as Much in divinely appointed rulers as the monarchs against whom they rebelled ' but these divinely appointed rulers were to be the "elect of God" — those who believed as they did, and joined with their organizations to establish His kincrdom on earth. For this reason we find the Massachu- setts Colon\- as early as 163 1 deciding that, " no man shall he admitted to the freedom of this body politic but such as are members of so i the churches within the limits of the same." The government in short, was 361 362 DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS simply a democratic theocracy, and, as the colony grew in numbers, the power came to be lodged in the hands of the minority. There were, how- ever, among the clergy of Massachusetts men who believed in democracy as we understand it to-day. Alexander Johnson, in his history of Connecticut, says with truth that Thomas Hooker, who led from Massachusetts into The Political Connecticut the colony which established itself at Hartford, Conceptions laid down the principle upon which the American nation long s generations after was to be established. When Governoi Winthrop, in a letter to Hooker, defended the restriction of the suffrage on the ground that " the best part is always the least, and of that best part the wiser part is always the lesser," the learned and generous-hearted pastor replied : " In matters which concern the common good, a general council, chosen by all to transact business which concerns all, I conceive most suit- able to rule, and most safe for the relief of the whole." The principles of our republicanism were never better stated until Lincoln in his oration at Gettysburg made his appeal that this nation might be consecrated anew in the fulfillment of its mission, and that government " from the people, for the people, by the people " might not perish from the earth. Both Honker and Lincoln had a supreme belief in the wisdom of the plain people in the matters which affect their own lives. The rank and file of the people have the surest instinct as to what will benefit or injure the rank and file of the people, and when upon them is placed the responsibility of determining what their government shall be, they are educated for self-government. In the colony which Thomas Hooker founded upon these principles there was found at the time of the Revolution more political wisdom, more genius for self-government, and more devotion to the jaatriotic cause, than in any other of the thirteen colonies. At the time of the Revolution, however, there was another democracy besides that of New England which enabled the colonies successfully to resist the Government of George III. This was the democracy of the planters of the South. The democracy of the Southern colonies was not, like that of New England, the democracy of collective self-government. hTthefsouth ' nit ^ le democracy of individual self-government, or, rather, of individual self-assertion. In fact, it would hardly be too much to say that many of the Virginia planters who espoused so warmly and fought so bravely in the cause of liberty were not inspired by the spirit of democracy at all, but rather by the spirit of an aristocracy which could brook no control. 1 hese southern planters were the aristocrats of the American Revolution. In New York City, and even in Boston and Philadelphia, tne wealthiest merchants were strongly Tory in their sympathies In New DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS 3 6 .S York ii was affirmed by General Greene that two-thirds of the land belonged to men in sympathy with the English and out of sympathy with their fellow countrymen. In these cities it was the plain people and the poorer classes who furnished most of the uncompromising patriots, but in the South men of fortune risked their fortunes in the cause; of independence. These men wen- slave owners, and the habit of mastery made them fiercely rebellious when George III. attempted in any way to tyrannize over them. Many of them were the descendants of the English nobility, and as such they acknow- ledged no superiors. Naturally, then, in the struggle for liberty they furnished th rs of the colonists, both North and South; and the agri- cultural classes, whether rich or poor, were naturally on the side of self- government, for their isolation had from the first compelled them to be self-governing. The first half century of tin; political history of the United States con- sisted rather in the development el' the political rights of the individual citizen than of the loyalty which all owed to the American nation. Nothing- is so difficult as to keep in mind that the government of the colonies at the close of the Revolution was not what it is to-day, and that What Was democracy as we know it was regarded as the dream of Thought of theorists. Some of the members of the Federal Convention Democracy in d-eply distrusted the common people. Elbridge Gerry, of convention Massachusetts, declared that "The people do not want suffrage, but are the dupes of pretended patriots;" and those who were at all in sympathy with him prevented, as the)- imagined, the election of the President by the people themselves, and did prevent the election of the United States Senators by the people-. Some of them were even opposed to the election of the House of Representatives directly by the people; but, fortunately, even Hamilton sided with Madison and Mason, when they urged that our House of Commons ought to have at he-art the rights and interests of, and be: bound, by the manner of their election, to be the repre- sentatives of even class of people. But by "every class of people" the framers of the Constitution from the more- conservative of the States meant simply every class of freeholders. In Virginia none could vote except those who owned fifty acres of land. In New York, to vote for Governor or State Senator, a freehold worth $250 clear ol mortgage was necessary, and to vote for Assembly- p rop ertyQuaii- men a freehold of $50 or the payment of a yearly rent of fications for $10 was necessary. liven Thomas Jefferson, who was the Democratic philosopher of the Revolutionary period, did not strenuously insist that the suffrage must be universal, and. it was not for a half century '£>" 364 Dh I EEGPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTh > A.s that it became universal, even among' white males. In the State of New York these restrictions existed until the adoption of the Constitution of 1821, and even this Constitution merely reduced the privileges of land owners. Old Chancellor Kent, the author of " Kent's Commentaries," declared in this convention that he would not "bow before the idol of uni- versal suffrage," the theory which he said had "been regarded Chanceilor . . . Kent's Views with terror by the wise men of every age," and whenever tried on Universal i iac j brought "corruption, injustice, violence, and tyranny." " If universal suffrage were adopted," he declared, " prosperity would deplore in sackcloth and ashes the delusion of the day." The horrors of the French Revolution were always held up by conservatives to show that the people could not be trusted, and the learned author of the " Commentaries,"' which every lawyer has pored over, maintained that, if universal suffrage should be adopted, "The radicals of England, with the force of that mighty engine, would sweep away the property, the laws, and the people of that island like a deluge." Not until between 1S40 and 1850 did universal suffrage among the whites come to be accepted in the older States. During the first half century of our history it was the Democratic party, the party of Jefferson, which was on the side of these extensions of popular rights. The principle of this party was that each State ought to legislate for itself, with the least possible control from the central govern- ment ; that each locality ought to have its freedom of local government extended ; and that each individual should be self-croverninpf, with the same rights and privileges for all. As regards foreign affairs, it was charac- terized by a " passion for peace, ' : and an abiding hostility toward a costly army and navy. Jefferson believed that the way to avoid wars, and the way to be strong, should war become inevitable, was by the devotion of the pt ople to productive industry, and not by burdening them to rival the powers of Europe in the strength of their armaments. In the year 1800, the party which rallied to his support — then called the Republican part)', but generally spoken of as the Democratic party — triumphed over the Federalists. In New England alone did Federalism remain strong at the close of _ . .. . Jefferson's first administration. In that section the calvinistic Federalism and J Democracy clergy, who had done so much for the establishment of Ameri- in New eng- can democracy, fought fiercely aaainst its extension. Teffer- land son's followers demanded the separation of Church and State and the abolition of the religious qualifications for office holding, which were then almost as general as property qualifications. He was known to DEMOCRATIC INST/7 ! TIONS be in sympathy with the French revolution, ami was therefore denounced both in religion and in politics. We cannot wonder, therefore, that in the section in which the clergy were the real rulers, feffersonian democracy was regarded with hatred and contempt. Vermont alone, among the New England States, was from tint first thoroughly democratic, and this was because in \ ermont there was no established aristocracy, either i»f education or of wealth. In Connecticut, which under clerical leadership hail once been the stronghold of advanced democracy, we find President Dwight expressing a sentiment common not only to the clergy but to the educ classes generally, when he declared that "the great object of Jacobinism, both in its political and moral revolution, is to destroy every race of civili- zation in the world." " In the triumph of feffersonianism," he said, "we have now reached a consummation of democratic blessings ; we have a country blockheads and knave But which in New England were at first received only by the pool and the ignorant, were in the very air which Americans breathed. The new States which were ed at the West were a .Ay democratic from the outset. In the Northwest Territory the inequalities New | deas in against which feffersonian democracy protested never gained the New a foothold, lb-re, wh of Ohio was organized " during Jefferson's first administration, the union of Church and State was not thought of, and no religious qualifications whatever for the office of 1 ernor were exacted. Property qualifications were almost as completely set aside. While in some of the older States the Governor had to possess ,£5,000, and even ,£10,000, Ohio's Governor was simply required to be a resident and an owner of land. As regards inheritances, the English law of primogeniture which remained unaltered in some of the older St. and in New England generally took the form of a double portion to the oldest son, was complete!)' set aside, and all children of the same parents became entitled to the same rights. That Ohio thus led the way in the democratic advance was due to the fact that its constitution was framed when th< i had already become ascendant in the hearts of the people, and the failure of the clergy of New England was due to their trying to alive institutions which were the offspring of another age, and co not lone survive it. For its distrust of the new democracy New England Federalism paid heavily in the isolation, defeat, and destruction which shortly awaited it. When the new democratic administration had fully reduced Federal taxation and shown its capacity for government, the more liberal-minded of the Federalists went over to the Democrats. Even Massachusetts gave a 3 66 OE ' *EL OPMENT OF DEMOCRA TIC INSTITUTIONS majority for Jefferson in 1804, and when the extreme Federalists became _, „ more extreme through the loss of their Liberal contingent, The Decay and & ...... Disappear. and called the Hartford Convention, in 18 14, Federalism died anceof Fed= f Jts own excesses. The policy of the democratic adminis- tration toward England may not have been wise, but the pro- posal of secession in order to resist it made Federalism almost synonymous with toryism and disloyalty. For a number of years after the close of the war of 181 2 there was really only one political party in the United States. In 1824, when the con- test was so close between Jackson, Adams and Clay, each of these contest- ants was a " Democratic Republican," and it would have been hard to tell what questions of policy divided their followers ; though Jackson's followers, as a rule, cared most for the extension of the political rights of the poorer classes, and least for that policy of protection which the war had made an important issue, by cutting off commerce and thus calling into being exten- sive manufacturing interests. That the followers of Clay A Period With- .. , r . . 111 t i out a Party hnally voted lor Adams may have been due to sympathy upon this question of the tariff. In 1828 something akin to party lines were drawn upon the question of the national bank, and the victory of Jackson provoked the hostility of the masses toward that institution, which certainly enriched its stockholders to such an extent as to make them a favored class. The Tariff Act, passed in 1828, made the tariff question thenceforth the dividing question in our national politics until slavery took its place. Most of the absolute free-traders were supporters of Jackson, but when South Carolina passed its Nullification Act as a protest against the "tariff of abominations," as it was called, President Jackson promptly declared that " the Union must and shall be preserved," and forced the recalcitrant State to renew its allegiance to the National Government. By the end of Jack- son's administration there were again two distinct parties in the United States; the one advocating a high tariff and extensive national improve- ments by the Federal Government, and the other advocating a low tariff and the restriction of national expenditures to the lowest possible limit. The former part)' — the Whig — was, of course, in favor of a liberal construc- tion of the Constitution and the extension of powers to the National Gov- ernment, while the latter advocated "strict construction" and "State rights." Jackson belonged to the latter party, and in 1836 was able to transfer the succession to Van Buren. But in 1840 the Whigs swept the country, electing Harrison and Tyler after the most picturesque Presidential DEVELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTiTUTIi 367 campaign ever known in America. All the financial ills from which the country was suffering were for the time attributed to Van Buren's economic policy, and his alleged extravagance at the White House _, , , 1 , . . . Rise of the enabled the Whigs to arouse the enthusiasm of the poor for Democratic their candidate, who was claimed to live in a log cabin and and Whig drink hard cider. During the next four years, however, there was a reaction, and in 1844 Polk was elected upon the platform on which Wan Buren had stood. It is true that in Pennsylvania the Democratic cam- paign cry was, " Polk, Dallas and the tariff of '42," which was a high tariff; but in most of the country 1 )emi icracy meant " free trade and sailors' rights." From this time on, the Whig party grew weaker and the Democratic part\- stronger. It is true that the V\ lected General Taylor in 1 The revenue tariff law passed by the Democrats in 1846 was not char until the still lower tariff of 1857 was enacted. By 1852 the Whig party had so declined that it was hardly stronger than the old Federalist party at the close of Jefferson's first term. But just as the Dei ic party became able to boast of its strength, a new party came into being which adopted the principles of the free-soil wing of the old Democratic part}-, chose the name of "Republican Party," swept into its ranks the remnants of various political organizations of the past, and in its second national _, „ . . r . & . * The Origin ana campaign elected Abraham Lincoln to the presidency. In this character of readjustment of parties the pro-slavery Whigs went over to theRepubli- the Democrats and the anti-slavery Democrats went over to the Republicans. The bolting Democrats claimed, with truth, to maintain the principles held by their party from the time of Jefferson down, but the part\- as a whole followed the interests of its most powerful element instead of the principles of its founder. In the States from Ohio west, where upon imic qu< lions the Democratic party had swept everything by increas- ing majorities since 1840, the bolting element was so great that all of these States were landed in the Republican column. One great Church — the Methodist — which before had been, as a rule, Democratic in politics, now became solidly Republican. From time to time, in the succeeding years, a variety of political organ- izations, of minor importance, rose and declined. But none of national sig- nificance were added to the two great parties until the Presidential campaigns of 1892 and 1896, when a new organization, known as the People's party, came into prominence. The principles distinguishing it from The People's the old Democratic and Republican pari its demand Party and its for a currency issued by the general Government only, without nnciples the intervention of banks of issue, and the tree and unrestricted coinage of 368 DE I 'ELOPMENT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS silver and gold at the ratio of 16 to i, regardless of foreign nations. It de manded further that the Government, in payment of its obligations, shoulc use its option as to the kind of lawful money in which they were to be paid should establish and collect a graduated income tax ; and should own anc operate the railroads and telegraph lines in the interests of the people. It; general tendency was to favor what is known as " Paternalism in govern ment," the existing form in America of what is known as Socialism ir Europe. This party found its chief strength among the farmers, who be lievecl it possible and right for the Government to pass laws to suppress " trusts " and monopolies, and also to favor the agricultural and laboring classes. The history of American politics up to the time of the introduction ol the new economic questions by the labor unions in the East, and the farmer's unions in the West and South, has been the history of the gradual extension of political rights. The Federalist party gave us the Constitution ; the old Democratic party gave us white manhood suffrage ; the Republican party gave us universal suffrage. What the People's party may give us remains for the future to demonstrate. The glory of America's past is that she hal been continually progressing ; that she has proven to the world the capacity of the whole people for self-government. CHATPER XXV America's Answer to the British Claim of the Right of Search. BY their first war with Gn tain our forefathers asserted and main- tained their right to independent national existence; by their second war with Great Britain, they claimed and obtained equal considera- ion in international affairs. The War of 1812 was not based on a single :ause; it was undertaken from mixed motives, — partly political, partly com- nercial, partly patriotic. It was always unpopular with a great number of he American people ; it was far from logical in some of its positions ; it was jerhaps precipitated by party clamor. But, despite all these facts, it remains :rue that this Avar established once for all the oosition of the United States is an equal power among the powers. Above all — clearing away the petty >olitical and partisan aspects of the struggle — we find that in The Cause* t the United States stood for a strong, sound, and universally of the War )eneficial principle, that of the rights of neutral nations in ot ' l2 ime of war. " Free ships make free goods" is a maxim of international aw now universally recognized, but at the opening of tin- century it was a heoiy, supported, indeed, by good reasoning, but practically disregarded by he most powerful nations. It was almost solely to the stand taken by the Jnited States in 1812 that the final settlement of this disputed principle if as due. The cause of the War of 1812, which appealed most strongly to the latriotic feelings of the common people, though, perhaps, not in itself so ntrinsically important as that just referred to, was unquestionably the mpressment by Great Britain of sailors from American ships. No doubt freal numbers of English sailors did desert from their naval vessels and ivail themselves of the easier service and better treatment ol the American nerchant ships. Great Britain, in the exigencies ot her des- _ ... . " ' J 9 British >crate contest with Napoleon, was straining every nerve to impressment Strengthen her already powerful navy, and the press-gang was of American 1 , • ' 1- i- , , , 1 . Seamen onstantly at work m English seaports. Once on board a British man-of-war, the impressed sailor was subject to overwork, bad rations, tnd the lash. That British sailors fought as gallantly as they did undei 3 6 9 370 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH this regime will always remain a wonder. Rut it is certain that they deserted in considerable numbers, and that they found in the rapidly-growing com- mercial prosperity of our carrying trade a tempting chance of employment. Great Bricain, with a large contempt for the naval weakness of the United States, assumed, rather than claimed, the right to stop our merchant vessels on the high seas, to examine their crews, and to take as her own any British sailors among them. This was bad enough in itself, but the way in which the search Avas carried out was worse. Every form of insolence and overbearing was exhibited. The pretense of claiming Outrages Upon _ & . L /■ i j American British deserters covered what was sometimes barefaced and Ships and outrageous kidnapping of Americans. The British officers Sailors rr s went so far as to lay the burden of proof of nationality in each case upon the sailor himself ; if he were without papers proving his identity he was at once assumed to be a British subject. To such an extent was this insult to our flag carried, that our Government had the record of about forty-five hundred cases of impressment from our ships between the years of 1803 and 1S10; and when the War of 181 2 broke out the number of American sailors serving against their will in British war vessels was vari- ously computed to be from six to fourteen thousand. It is even recorded that in some cases American ships were obliged to return home in the middle of their voyages because their crews had been so diminished in number by the seizures made by British officers that they were too short- handed to proceed. In not a few cases these depreciations led to blood- shed. The greatest outrage of all, and one which stirred the blood of Ameri- cans to the fighting point, was the capture of an American war vessel, the Chesapeake, by the British man-of-war, the Leopard. The latter was by far the more powerful vessel, and the Chesapeake was quite unprepared for -,-._ ice ■ * action ; nevertheless, her commander refused to accede to a The Affair of , , . . " thcChesa- demand that his crew be overhauled in search for British peake"and ^deserters. Thereupon the Leopard poured broadside after broadside into her until her flag was struck. Three Americans were killed and eighteen wounded ; four were taken away as alleged desert- ers ; of these, three were afterwards returned, while in one case the charge was satisfactorily proved and the man was hanged. The whole affair was without the slightest justification under the law of nations and was in itself ample ground for war. Great Britain, however, in a quite ungracious and tardy way, apologized and offered reparation. This incident took place six years before the actual declaration of war. But the outrage rankled during all that time, and nothing did more to fan the anti-British feeling which was SWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARt H 371 already so strong- in the rank and file of Americans, especially in tin gratic (or, as it was then often called, the Republican) party. It was such deeds as this that led Henry Clay to exclaim, " Not content with seizing upon all our property which falls within her rapacious grasp, the personal -i'.'hts of our countrymen — rights which must forever he sa< r e tramp- ed on and violated by the I ol our seamen. What are wi gain by war? What arc we not to lose by peace ? Commerce, character, a uition's best treasure, honor !" The interference with American commerce was also a serious threat to :he cause of peace. In the early years of the century Great Britain was at ivar not only with France, but with other European countries. Both Great Britain and France adopted in practice the n ■ :treme th e Era sheories of non-intercourse b eutral and hostile <>f Paper nations. It was the era of "paper blockades." In 1806 BIock *' ules England, for instance, declared that eight hundred miles of the European "•oast were lo be considered blockaded, whereupon Napoleon, 1 out ione, declared the entire Kin; I Great Britain to be under blockade. Up to a certain point the interruption of the neutral trade relations uetween the countries of Europe was to the commercial advantage of America. Our carrying trade grew and prospered wonderfully. Much :>f this trade consisted in taking goods from the colonies of European nations, bringing them to the United States, then trans-shipping them and :onveying them to the parent nation. This was allowable under the inter- national law of the time, although the direct carrying of goods by the neutral ship from the colony to the parent nation (the latter, ol course, leing at war) was forbidden. but by her famous "Orders in Council" ,'ireat Britain absolutely forbade this system of trans-shipment as to nations with whom she was at war. American vessels engaged in this form of trade were seized and condemned by English prize courts. Naturally, France Followed Great Britain's example and even went further. Our merchants, ivho hail actually been earning double freights under the old system, now Found that their commerce was woefully restricted. At firsl it was thought that the unfair restriction might be punished by retaliatory measures, and a quite illogical analogy was drawn from the effect produced on Great Britain e the Revolution by the refusal of the colonies to receive goods on which a tax had been imposed. So President Jefferson's administration resorted to the most unwise measure that could be thought of — an absolute Embargo on our own ships, which were prohibited from leaving port. This measure was passed in 1S07, and its immediate result was to reduce the exports of this country from nearly fifty million dollars' worth to 372 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH nine million dollars' worth in a single year. This was evidently an) thing but profitable, and the act was changed so as to forbid only commercial Jefferson intercourse with Great Britain and France and their colonies, and the with a proviso that the law should be abandoned as regards m argo either of these countries which should repeal its objectionable decrees. The French government moved in the matter first, but only con- ditionally. Our non-intercourse act, however, was after 1S10 in force only against Great Britain. That our claims of wrong were equally, or nearly so, as great against France in this matter cannot be doubted. But the popular feeling was stronger against Great Britain ; a war with England was popular with the mass of the Democrats ; and it was the refusal of England to accept our conditions which finally led to the declaration of war. By a curious chain of circumstances it happened, however, that between the time when Congress declared war (June 18, 1812) and the date when the War Declared news of this declaration was received in England, the latter Against country had already revoked her famous "Orders in Council." Great Britain j n p ; nt Q f f act) p res ident Madison was very reluctant to declare war, though the Federalists always took great pleasure in speaking of this as " Mr. Madison's war." The Federalists throughout considered the war unnecessary and the result of partisan feeling and unreasonable prejudice. It is peculiarly grateful to American pride that this war, undertaken in defence of our maritime interests and to uphold the honor of our flag upon the high seas, resulted in a series of naval victories brilliant in the extreme. It was not, indeed, at first thought that this would be chiefly a naval war. ; President Madison was at one time strongly inclined to keep our war vessels in port; but, happily, other counsels prevailed. The disparity between the American and British navies was certainly disheartening. The United States had seven or eight frigates and a few sloops, brigs, and gunboats, while the sails of England's navy whitened every sea, and her ships cer- tainly outnumbered ours by fifty to one. On the other hand, her hands were tied to a great extent by the stupendous European war in which she was involved. She had to defend her commerce from formidable enemies, •™_ r, ... c , and could spare but a small part of her naval strength for The British and ' ' p American battle with the new foe. That this new foe was despised by Navies Com= t ] ie g rea t power which claimed, not without reason, to be the mistress of the seas, was not unnatural. But soon we find a lament raised in Parliament about the reverses of its navy, which were such as "English officers and English sailors had not before been used to, , particularly from such a contemptible navy as that of America had always ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SI n held to 1 The fact is, that the restriction "I" Ami ri had made it possible for our naval ofi to Lake their pick i ably fine bod}- of native American seamen, naturally brave and intelligent, and thoroughly well trained in all seamanlike experiences. These men were in many instances Idled with a spirit of resentment at British insoli having either themselves been the victims of the aggressions which we I described, or having seen their friends compelled to submit to these insolent acts. The very smallness of our navy, too, was in a measure its strength ; the competition for active service among those bearing commissions was great, and there was never any trouble in finding officers of proved sagacity and coura At the outset, however, the policy determined on by the administration was not one of naval aggression. It was decided to attack England from her Canadian colonies. This plan of campaign, however n ible it mi seem to a strategist, failed wretchedly in execution. The first The War on year of the war, so far as regards the land campaigns, showed the Canada nothing but reverses and fiascoes. There was a long and thinly settled border country, in which our slender forces struggled to hold their own against the barbarous Indian onslaughts, making- futile expeditions across the border into Canada, and resisting with some success the similar expeditions by the Canadian troops. One of the complaints which led to the war was that the Indian tribes had been incited against our settlers by the Canadian authorities and had been promised aid from Canada. It is certain that after war was declared British officers not only employed Indians as their allies, but, in some instances at least, paid bounties for the scalps ol American s< I The Indian war planned by Tecumseh had just been put down by Gen- eral (afterward President) Harrison. No doubt Tecumseh was a man of more elevated ambition and more humane instincts than one often finds in an Indian chief. His hope to unite the tribes and to drive the whites out of his country has a certain nobility of purpose and breadth of view. But this scheme had failed, and the Indian warriors, still inflamed for war, were only too eager to assist the Canadian forces in a desultory but bloody bor- der war. The strength of our campaign against Canada was dissipated in an attempt to hold Fort Wayne, Fort Harrison, and other garrisons against Indian attacks. Still more disappointing was the complete null and the failure of the attempt, under the command of General Hull, Surrender of to advance from Detroit into Canada. He was easily driven Detroit back to Detroit, and, while the nation was confidently waiting to hear of a bold defence of that place, it was startled by the news of Hull's surrender 21 374 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH without firing a gun, and under circumstances which seemed to indicate either cowardice or treachery. Hull was, in fact, court-martialed and con- demned to death, and was only pardoned on account of his services in the war of 1776. The mortification that followed the land campaign of 18 12 was for- gotten in the joy at the splendid naval victories of that year. Pre-eminent among- these was the famous sea-duel between the frigates Constitution and Guerriere. Every one knows of the glory of Old Ironsides, and this, though the greatest, was only one of many victories through which the name of the Constitution became the most famed and beloved of all that have been associated with American ships. She was a fine frigate, carrying forty-four guns, and though English journals had ridiculed her as "a bunch of pine boards under a bit of striped bunting," it was not long before they were busily engaged in trying to prove that she was too large a vessel to be properly called a frigate, and that she greatly out-classed her opponent in The " Constitu- metal and men. It is true that the Constitution carried six tion"andthe more guns and a few more men than the Guerriere, but all "fin t r " allowances being made, her victory was a naval triumph of the first magnitude. Captain Isaac Hull, who commanded her, had just before the engagement proved his superior seamanship by escaping from a whole squadron of British vessels, out-sailing and out-manceuvring them at every point. It was on August 19, 181 2, that he descried the Guerriere. Both vessels at once cleared for action and came together with the greatest eagerness on both sides for the engagement. Though the battle lasted but half an hour, it was one of the hottest in naval annals. At one time the Constitution was on fire, and both ships were soon seriously crippled by injuries to their spars. Attempts to board each other were thwarted on both sides by the close fire of small arms. Here, as in later sea-fights of this war, the accu- „. ,,, . racy and skill of the American gunners were something mar- The Glorious J & S Victory of the velous. At the end of half an hour the Guerriere had lost Frigate "Con- both mainmast and foremast, and floated as a helpless hulk in stitution*' . ....,„ the open sea. Her surrender was no discredit to her omcers, as she was almost in a sinking condition. It was hopeless to attempt to tow her into port, and Captain Hull transferred his prisoners to his own vessel and set fire to his prize. In this engagement the American frigate had only seven men killed and an equal number wounded, while the British vessel had as many as seventy- nine men killed or wounded. The conduct of the American seamen was throughout gallant in the highest degree. Captain Hull put it on record that " From the smallest boy in the ship to the oldest seaman not a look of ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEAR< fear wa ; seen. They all went into action giving l [uest- ing to be laid close alongside: the enemy." Th I of this victory in both America and England was extraordinary. English papers long refused to believe in the possibility of the well-proved facts, while in America the whole country joined in a triumphal shout of joy, and loaded well-deserved honors on vessel, captain, officers, and men. The chagrin of the English public at the unexpected result of this sea- battle was changed to amazement and vexation when, one after another, there followed no less than six combats of the same duel-like character, in all of which the American vessels were victorious. The first was between the American sloop J]~asfi and the English brig Frolic, which the "Wasp" was convoying a fleet of merchantmen, The fight was one of Captures the the mo-.; rate in the war; the two ship I so close together that their gunners could touch the sides of the opposing ith their rammers. Broadside after broadsidi into the Frolic by the Wasp, which obtained the superior position; but her sailors, too excited to await the victory which was sure to come from the continued raking of the enemy's vessel, rushed upon her decks without orders and overpowered her. Again the British loss in killed and wounded was lai that of the Americans very small. It in no wise detracted from the glory of this victory that both victor and prize were soon captured by a British man-of-war of immensely superior strength. Following this action, Commodore Stephen Decatur, in the frigate United States, attacked the Macedonian, a British vessel of the ..... The "United same class, and easily defeated her, bringing her into New states" and York harbor on New Year's Day, 1813, when ceived an the "Mace- ovation equal to that offered Captain Hull. The same result followed the attack of the Constitution, now under the command of Commo- dore Bainbridge, upon the British The latter had her captain fifty men killed and about one hundred wounded, and was left such a wreck that it was decided to blow her up, while the Constitution suffered so little she was in sport dubbed Old i r, a name now ennobled by a poem which has been in every school-boy's mouth. Other naval combats resulted, in the great majority of cases, in the same way ; in all unstinted praise was awarded by the nations of the world, even including England herself, to the admirable seamanship, the wonderful gunnery, and the personal intrepidity ol our naval forces. When the second year of tin: war closed our little navy had captured twenty-six warships, armed with 560 guns, while it had lost only seven ships, carrying 1 iq oups 37° ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH But, if the highest honors of the war were thus won by our navy, the most serious injury materially to Great Britain was in the devastation of her commerce by American privateers. No less than two hundred and fifty American PrU °^ these sea guerrillas were afloat, and in the first year of the vateers and war they captured over three hundred merchant vessels, some- times even attacking and overcoming the smaller class of war- ships. The privateers were usually schooners armed with a few small guns, but carrying one long cannon mounted on a swivel so that it could be turned to any point of the horizon, and familiarly known as Long Tom. Of course, the crews were influenced by greed as well as by patriotism. Privateering is a somewhat doubtful mode of warfare at the best ; but inter- national law permits it, and, though it is hard to dissociate from it the aspect of legalized piracy, it is recognized to this day. In the most recent war, however, the Spanish-American, neither of the belligerent nations indulged in this relic of barbarism. If privateering were ever justifiable it was in the war now under con- sideration. As Jefferson said, there were then tens of thousands of seamen cut off by the war from their natural means of support and useless to their country in any other way, while by " licensing private armed vessels, the whole naval force of the nation was truly brought to bear on the foe." The havoc wrought on British trade was widespread indeed ; altogether between fifteen hundred and two thousand prizes were taken by the privateers. To compute the value of these prizes is impossible, but some idea may be gained from the single fact that one privateer, the Yankee, in a cruise of less than two months captured five brigs and four schooners, with cargoes valued at over half a million dollars. The men engfao-ed in this form of warfare were bold to recklessness, and their exploits have furnished many a tale to American writers of romance. The naval combats thus far mentioned were almost always of single vessels. For battles of fleets we must turn from the salt water to the fresh, from the ocean to the great lakes. The control of the waters the Lakes °f Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, and Lake Champlain was ob- viously of vast importance, in view of the continued land- fighting in the West and of the attempted invasion of Canada and the threatened counter-invasions. The British had the great advantage of being able to reach the lakes by the St. Lawrence, while our lake navies had to be constructed after the war began. One such little navy had been built at Presque Isle, now Erie, on Lake Erie. It comprised two brigs of twenty guns and several schooners and gunboats. It must be remembered that everything but the lumber needed for the vessels had to be brought through ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH 377 the forests by hind from the eastern seaports, and the men: problem of transportation was a serious one. When finished, the fleet was put in com- mand of Oliver Hazard Perry. Watching Ids time: (and, it is said, taking advantage of the carelessness of the British commander, who went on shore to dinner one Sunday, when he should have been watching Perry's movements), the American commander drew his fleet over the bar which had protected it while in harbor from the onslaughts of the British fleet. To yet the brigs over this bar was a work ol time and great difficulty ; an attack at that hour by the British would certainly have ended in the total destruction of the tleet. This feat accomplished, Perry, in his flagship, the Lawrence, headed a fleet of ten vessels, fifty-five guns and four hund men. Opposed to him was Captain Barclay with six ships, sixty-five guns, and also about four hundred men. The British for several weeks avoided the conflict, but in the end were cornered ami forced to fight. It was at the beginning of this battle that Perry displayed the Hag perry's Great bearing- Lawrence's famous dying: words, "Don't give up the Victory on ship!" No less famous is his dispatch announcing the result in the words, "We have met the enemy and they are ours." The victory- was indeed a complete and decisive one ; all six of the enemy's ships were captured, and their loss was nearly double that of Perry's forces. The complete control of Lake Erie was assured ; that of Lake Ontario had already been gained by Commodore Chauncev. Perry's memorable victory opened the way for important land opera- tions by General Harrison, who now marched from Detroit with the design of invading Canada. He engaged with Proctor's mingled body of British troops and Indians, and by the battle of the Thames drove back the British from that part of Canada and restored the Thames matters to the position in which they stood before I lull's deplorable surrender of Detroit — and, indeed, of all Michigan — to the British. In this battle the Indian chief, Tecumseh, fell, and about three hundred of the British and Indians were killed on the field. The hold cf our enemies on the Indian tribes was greatly broken by this defi Previous to this the land campaigns had been marked by a succession of minor victories and defeats. In the West a force of Americans under General Winchester had been captured at the River Raisin, where there took place an atrocious massacre of prisoners by the Indians, who were quite beyond restraint from their white allies. On the other hand, the Americans had captured the city of York, now Toronto, though at the cost of their leader, General Pike, who, with two hundred of his men, was destroyed by the explosion of a magazine. Fort George had also been 378 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH captured by the Americans and an attack on Sackett's Harbor had been gallantly repulsed. Following the battle of the Thames, extensive opera- tions of an aggressive kind were planned, looking toward the capture of Montreal and the invasion of Canada by way of Lakes Ontario and Cham- plain. Unhappily, jealousy between the American Generals Wilkinson and Hampton resulted in a lack of concert in their military operations, and the expedition became a complete fiasco. One turns for consolation from the mortifying record of Wilkinson expedition to the story of the continuous successes which accompanied the naval operations of 1813. Captain Lawrence, in the Hornet, won a com- plete victory over the English brig Peacock ; our brig, the Enterprise, cap- tured the Boxer, and other equally welcome victories were reported. One distinct defeat marred the record — that of our fine brig, the Chesapeake, commanded by Captain Lawrence, which was captured after one of the most hard-fought contests of the war by the British brig, the Shannon. , „ Lawrence himself fell mortally wounded, exclaiming as he Lawrences Fa- , . . mous Saying, was carried away, "Tell the men not to give up the ship, but "Don't Give figrht her till she sinks." It was a paraphrase of this exclama- Up the Ship." . & , . . _ , 11 • • 1 • 1 1 1 tion which rerry used as a rallying signal in the battle on Lake Erie. Despite his one defeat, Captain Lawrence's fame as a gallant seaman and high-minded patriot was untarnished, and his death was more deplored throughout the country than was the loss of his ship. In the latter part of the war England was enabled to send large rein- forcements both to her army and navy engaged in the American campaigns. Events in Europe seemed in 18 14 to insure peace for at least a time. Na- poleon's power was broken ; the Emperor himself was exiled at Elba ; and Great Britain at last had her hands free. But before the reinforcements reached this country, our army had won greater credit and had shown more military skill by far than were evinced in its earlier operations. Along the line of the Niagara River active fighting had been going on. In the battle of Chippewa, the capture of Fort Erie, the engagement at Lundy's Lane, and the defence of Fort Erie the troops, under the command of Generals Winfield Scott and Brown, had more than held their own against superior forces, and had won from British officers the admission that they fought as well under fire as regular troops. More encouraging still Macdonough s ° * ° ° Victory on was the total defeat of the plan of invasion from Canada Lake Cham- undertaken by the now greatly strengthened British forces. These numbered twelve thousand men and were supported by a fleet on Lake Champlain. Their operations were directed against Plattsburg, and in the battle on the lake, usually called by the name of that ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT TO SEARCH town, the American flotilla, under the command of Commodore Mac- donough, completely routed the British fleet. As a result the English army also beat a rapid and undignified retreat to Canada. This was the last important engagement to take place in the North. Meanwhile expeditions of considerable size wen: directed by the British against our principal Southern cities. One of these brought Genera' Ross with five thousand men, chiefly the pick of the Duke of Wellington's army, into the Bay of Chesapeake. Nothing was more discreditable in the militai \ strategy of our administration than the fact that at this time Washington was left unprotected, though in evident danger. General Ross marched straight upon the capital, easily defeated at Bladensburg an inferior force of raw militia —who fought, however, with much courage — seized the city, and carried out his intention of destroying the public buildings and a great part of the town. Most of the public archives had been removed. Ross's conduct in the burning oi Washington, though of a character common enough in modern warfare, has been condemned as semi-barbarous by many writers. The achievement was greeted with enthusiasm by the English papers, but was really of much less importance than they supposed. Wash- ington at that time was a straggling town of only eight thousand inhabit- ants ; its public buildings were not at all adequate to the The Burning of demands of the future; and an optimist might even consider the American the destruction of the old city as a public benefit, for it Ca P |tal enabled Congress to adopt the plans which have since led to the making of the most beautiful city of the country, if not of the world. A similar attempt upon Baltimore was less successful The people of that city made a brave defence and hastily threw up extensive fortifications. In the end the British fleet, after a severe bombardment of Fort McHenry, was driven off. The British admiral had boasted that Fort McHenry would yield in a few hours ; and two days after, when its flag was still flying, Francis S. Key was inspired by its sight to compose our far-famed national ode, the "Star Spangled Banner." A still larger expedition of British troops soon after landed on the Louisiana coast and marched to the attack of New Orleans. Here General Andrew Jackson was in command. He had already distinguished himself during the war by putting down with a strong hand tin: hostile Creek Indians, who had been incited by English envoys to warfare against our southern settlers; and in April, icSia, William Weathersford, the half- Jacksonand breed chief, had surrendered in person to Jackson. General the Creek Packenham, who commanded the five thousand British sol- ,nd,an * diers sent against New Orleans, expected as easy a victory as that of Gen- 3S0 ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM Oh THE RIGHT OF SEARCH eral Ross at Washington. But Jackson had summoned to his aid the stalwart frontiersmen of Kentucky and Tennessee — men used from boy- hood to the rifle, and who made up what was in effect a splendid force of sharp-shooters. Both armies threw up rough fortifications ; General Jack- son made great use for that purpose of cotton bales, Packenham employing the still less solid material of sugar barrels. As it proved neither of these were suitable for the purpose, and they had to be replaced by earthworks. Oddly enough, the final battle, and really the most important one of the war, took place after the treaty of peace between the two countries had been signed. The British were repulsed again and again in persistent and . . , gallant attacks on our fortifications. General Packenham Jackson's & . Famous Great himself was killed, together with many of his officers and Victory at seven hundred of his men. One British officer pushed to the top of our earthworks and demanded their surrender, where- upon he was smilingly asked to look behind him, and turning saw, as he after- wards said, that the men he supposed to be supporting him " had vanished as if the earth had swallowed them up." Of the Americans only a few men were killed. The treaty of peace, signed at Ghent, December 24, 18 14, has been ridiculed because it contained no positive agreement as to many of the questions in dispute. Not a word did it say about the impressment of American sailors or the rights of neutral ships. Its chief stipulations were the mutual restoration of territory and the appointing of a commission to determine our northern boundary line. The truth is that both nations were tired of the war ; the circumstances that had led to England's a^gres- sions no longer existed; both countries were suffering enormous commer- cial loss to no avail; and, above all, the United States had emphatically justified by its deeds its claim to an equal place in the council of nations. Politically and materially, further warfare was illogical If of the War e two nat i° ns na cl understood each other better in the first place ; if Great Britain had treated our demands with cour- tesy and justice instead of with insolence ; if, in short, international comity had taken the place of international ill-temper, the war might have been avoided altogether. Its undoubted benefits to us were incidental rather than direct. But though not formally recognized by treaty, the rights of American seamen and of American ships were in fact no longer infringed upon by Great Britain. One political outcome of the war must not be overlooked. The New England Federalists had opposed it from the beginning, had naturally fretted at their loss of commerce, and had bitterly upbraided the Demo- ANSWER TO BRITISH CLAIM OF THE RIGHT OF SEARCH ; v Si cratic administration for currying popularity by a war carried on mainly at New England's expense. When, in the latter days of the war, New England ports were closed, Stonington was bombarded, Castine in Maine was seized, and serious depreciations were; threatened everywhere along the northeastern coast, the Federalists complained that the administration taxed them for the war but did not protect them. The outcome of all this discontent was the Hartford Convention. In point of fact it was a quite harmless conference which proposed some constitutional amendments, protested against too great centralization of * ar " r 1 & ° Convention power, and urged the desirability of peace with honor. Hut the most absurd rumors wen- prevalent about its intentions; a regiment of troops was actually sent to Hartford to anticipate treasonable outbreaks; and for many years good Democrats religiously believed that there had been a plot to set up a monarchy in New England with the Duke of Kent as king. Harmless as it was, the Hartford Convention caused the death of the Federalist party. Its mild debates were distorted into secret conclaves plotting treason, and, though the news of peace followed close upon it, the Convention was long an object of opprobrium and a political bugbear. CHAPTER XXVI. The United States Sustains Its Dignity Abroad. IF the reader will look at any map of Africa he will see on the northern coast, defining the southern limits of the Mediterranean, four States, Morocco, Algeria, Tunis, and Tripoli, running east and west a distance of 1S00 miles. These powers had for centuries maintained a state of semi- independency by paying tribute to Turkey. But this did not suit Algeria, the strongest and most warlike of the North African States ; and in the year 1710 the natives overthrew the rule of the Turkish Pasha, expelled him from the country, and united his authority to that of the Dey, the Algerian monarch. The Dey subsequently governed the country by means of a The Piratical Divan or Council of State chosen from the principal civic states of functionaries. The Algerians, with the other " Barbary North Africa States," as the piratical States were called, defied the powers of Europe ; their armed vessels sweeping the waters of the Mediterranean, committing a thousand ravages upon the merchant vessels of other nations, and almost driving commerce from its waters. France alone resisted these depredations, and this only partially, for after she had repeatedly chastised the Algerians, the strongest of the piratical States, and had induced the Dey to sign a treaty of peace, the Corsairs would await their opportunity and after a time resume their depredations. Algiers in the end forced the United States to resort to arms in the defence of its commerce, and the long immu- nity of the pirates did not cease until the great republic of the West took them in hand. The truth is, this conflict was no less irrepressible than that greater conflict which a century later deluged the land in blood. Before the Con- stitution of the United States had been adopted, two American vessels, fly- ing the flag of thirteen stripes and thirteen stars, instead of the forty-five stars which now form our national constellation, while sailing the Mediter- ranean had fallen a prey to the swift, heavily-armed Algerian cruisers. The vessels were confiscated, and their crews, to the number of twenty-one persons, were held for ransom, for which an enormous sum was demanded. This sum our Government was by no means willing to pay, as to do so would be to establish a precedent not only with Algeria, but also with Tunis, 382 Th ' ATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 383 Tripoli, and Morocco, for each of these African piratical States was in league with the others, and all had to irately conciliated. But, after all, what else could the Government do ? The country had no navy. It could not undertake in improvised ships to go forth arid fight lli:' powerful cruisers ot the; African pirates — States so strong that the com- mercial nations of Europe were glad to win exemption from their depreda- tions by annual payments. Why not, then, ransom these; American captives by the payment of money and construct a navy sufficiently strong to resist their encroachments in the future ? This feeling on the part of the Gov- ernment was shared by tile people of the country, and as a The War with result Congress authorized the building of six frigates, and by the Pirates another act empowen nt Washington to borrow a ° r,p0 ' million of dollars for purchasing peace. Eventually the ransom money was paid to the piratical powers, and it was hoped all difficult)' was at an end. But, as a necessary provision for the future, the work of constructing the new warships was pushed with expedition. As will be seen, this proved to be a wise and timely precaution. We are new brought to the year 1800. Tripoli, angry at not receiving as much money as was paid to Algiers, declared war against the United States. Circumstances, however, had changed for the better, and the repub- lic was prepared to deal with the oppressors of its seamen in a more digni- fied and efficient manner than that of paying ransom For our new navy, a small but most efficient one, had been completed, and a squadron consisting of the frig , Captain Bainbridge, the Philadelphia, the President, and thi ichooner Experiment, was in Mediterranean waters. Two Tripolitan cruisers lying at Gibraltar on the watch for American vessels were blockaded by the Philadelphia. Cruising off Tripoli, the Experiment fell in with a Tripolitan cruiser of fourteen guns, and after three hours' hard fighting captured her, the Tripolitans losing twenty killed and thirty wounded. This brilliant result had a marked effect in quieting the turbulent pirates, who for the first time began to respect the United States. A treaty was signed in 1805, in which Tripoli agreed no longer to molest American ships and sailors. This war was marked by a striking evidence of American pluck and readiness in an emergency. During the contest the frigate ^.. „ r,, ..... . .. ... . , The Famous Philadelphia, while chasing certain piratical craft into the har- incidentof bor of Tripoli, ran aground in a most perilous situation. the "Phila- ape was impossible, she was under the guns of the shore batteries and of the Tripolitan navy, and after a vain cfiort to sink her. all on board were forced to surrender as prisoners of war. Subsequently 3S4 THE UNITED STA TES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD the Tripolitans suceeded in floating the frigate, brought her into port in triumph, and began to refit her as a welcome addition to their navy. This state of affairs was galling to American pride, and, as the vessel could not be rescued, it was determined to make an effort to destroy her. One night a Moorish merchantman (captured and fitted for the purpose) entered the harbor and made her way close up to the side of the Philadelphia. Only a few men, dressed in Moorish garb, were visible, and no suspicion of their purpose was entertained. As these men claimed to have lost their anchor, a rope was thrown them from the vessel, and they made fast. In a minute more a startling change took place. A multitude of concealed Americans suddenly sprang into sight, clambered to the deck of the Philadelphia, and drove the surprised Moors over her sides. The frigate was fairly recaptured. But she could not be taken out, so the tars set her on fire, and made their escape by the light of her blazing spars and under the guns of the Tripoli- tan batteries, not a ball from which reached them. It was a gallant achieve- ment, and gave fame to Decatur, its leader. But peace was not yet assured. In 1815, when this country had just ended its war with Great Britain, the Dey of Algiers unceremoniously dismissed the American Consul and declared war against the United States, on the plea that he had not received certain articles demanded under the tribute treaty. This time the government was well prepared for the issue. The ar ecare population of the country had increased to over eight millions by Algiers r r ■' & The military spirit of the nation had been aroused by the war with Great Britain, ending in the splendid victory at New Orleans under General Jackson. Besides this, the navy had been increased and made far more effective. The administration, with Madison at its head, decided to submit to no further extortions from the Mediterranean pirates, and the President sent in a forcible message to Congress on the subject, taking high American ground. The result was a prompt acceptance of the Algerian declaration of war. Events succeeded each other in rapid succession. Ships new and old were at once fitted out. On May 15, 181 5, Decatur sailed from New York to the Mediterranean. His squadron comprised the frigates Guerriere, Macedonian and Constellation, the new sloop of war Ontario, and four brigs and two schooners in addition. On June 17th, the second day after entering the Mediter- forPeac" eS ranean » Decatur captured the largest frigate in the Algerian navy, having forty-four guns. The next day an Algerian brig was taken, and in less than two weeks after his first capture Decatur, with his entire squadron, appeared off Algiers. The end had come. The Dey's courage, like that of Bob Acres, oozed out at his fingers' ends. The THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD terrified Dey sued for peace, which Decatur compelled him to sign on the quarter-deck of the Guerriere. In this treaty it was agreed by the Dey to sur- render all prisoners, pay a heavy indemnity, and renounce all tribute from America in the future. Decatur also secured indemnity from Tunis and Tripoli for American vessels captured under the guns of t heir forts by British cruisers during the late war. 1 his ended at once and forever the payment of tribute to the piratical States of North Africa. All Europe, as well as our own country, rang with the splendid achievements of our navy ; and surely the stars and stripes had never before floated more proudly from the masthead of an American vessel- and they are flying as proudly to-day. One further example of the readiness of this country to defend itself upon the seas in its weak, early period may be related, though it slightly antedated tin- beginning of the century. This was a result of American indignation at the ravages upon its commerce by tin- warri nations of Europe. About 1708 the depredations of France A Na y a ' War r ' ' * with f-rance upon our merchantmen became so aggravating that, without the formality of a declaration, a naval war began. The vessels of our new navy were sent out, "letters of marque and reprisal" were granted to privateers, and their work soon began to tell. Captain Truxton of the Con- stellation captured the French frigate U Insurgente, the privateers brought more than fifty armed vessels of the French into port and France quickly de- ; that she wanted peace. Thissort of argument was not quite to her ta Seventeen years after the close of the 1 rouble with Algiers, in 1S32. one of the most interesting cases of difficulty with a foreign power arose. As with Algeria and Tripoli, so now our navy was resorted to for the pur- pose of exacting reparation. This time the trouble was with the kingdom of Naples, in Italy, which had been wrested from Spain by Napoleon, who placed successively his brother foseph and his brother-in-law Murat on the throne of Naples and the two Sicilies. During the years [809-12 the Nea- politan government, under [oseph and Murat successively, had confiscated numerous American ships with their cargoes. The total amount of the American claims against Naples, as filed in the State department when Jackson's administration assumed control, was $1,734,994. They were held by various insurance companies and by citizens, principally of Baltimore. Demands for the payment of these claims had from time to time been made by our government, but Naples had always refused to settle them. Jackson and his cabinet took a decided stand, and determined that the Neapolitan government, then in the hands of Ferdinand II. — subsequently nicknamed Bomba because of his cruelties — should make due reparation for 386 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD the losses sustained by American citizens. The Hon. [ohn Nelson, ox Frederick, Maryland, was appointed Minister to Naples, and required to insist upon a settlement, Commodore Daniel Patterson, who had aided The Claim ' n tne defense of New Orleans in 1S15, was put in command Against of the Mediterranean squadron and ordered to co-operate with ap es Minister Nelson in enforcing his demands. But Naples •>ersisted in her refusal to render satisfaction, and a warlike demonstration .as decided upon, the whole matter being placed, under instructions, in the hands of Commodore Patterson. The entire force under his command consisted of three fifty-gun frigates and three twenty-gun corvettes. In order not to precipitate matters too hastily, the plan adopted was that these vessels should appear in the Neapolitan waters one at a time, and instructions were given to that effect. The Brandywine, with Minister Nelson on board, went first. Mr. Nelson made his demand for a settlement and was refused. There was nothing in the appearance of a Yankee envoy and a single ship to trouble King Bomba and his little kingdom. The Brandywine cast anchor in the harbor and the humbled envoy waited patiently for a few days. Then „ ... another American f\a.e from the Austrian commander. When it was refused, he communicated with the nearest United States official, Con- sul Brown, at Constantinople. While he was waiting fur an answer six Austrian warships sailed into the harbor and came to anchor in positions near the Huzzar. On June 29th, before Captain Ingraham The „ s , eived any answer from the American Consul, he Louis "and noticed unusual signs of activity on board the Huzzar, and the " Huzzar " before long she began to get under way. The American captain made up his mind immediately. lie put the St. Louis straight in the Huzzar s course and cleared his guns for action. The Huzzar hove to, and Captain Ineraham went on board and demanded the meaning of her action. " We propose to sail for home," replied the Austrian. "The consul has ordered us to take our prisoner to Austria." 388 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD You will pardon me," said Captain Ingraham, "but if you attempt to leave this port with that American on board I shall be compelled to resort tc extreme measures." The Austrian glanced around at the lleet of Austrian war-ships and the single American sloop-of-war. Then he smiled pleasantly, and intimated that the Hiczar would do as she pleased. Captain Ingraham bowed and returned to the St. Louis. He had no sooner reached her deck than he called out : " Clear the guns for action !" The Archduke of Austria saw the batteries of the St. Louis turned upon him, and suddenly realized that he was in the wrong. The Huzzar was put about and sailed back to her old anchorage. Word was sent to Captain Ingraham that the Austrian would await the arrival of the note from Mr. Brown. The consul's note, which came on July ist, commended Captain Ingra- ham's course and advised him to take whatever action he thought the situa- tion demanded. At eight o'clock on the morning of July 2d, Captain In- graham sent a note to the commander of the Huzzar, formally demanding the release of Mr. Koszta. Unless the prisoner was delivered on board the St. Louis before four o'clock the next afternoon, Captain Ingraham would take him from the Austrians by force. The Archduke sent back a formal refusal. At eight o'clock the next morning Captain Ingraham once more ,, . r- ordered the decks cleared for action and trained his batteries Koszta is uiven Uptolngra- on the Huzzar. The seven Austrian war vessels cleared their ham decks and put their men at the guns. At ten o'clock an Austrian officer came to Captain Ingraham and began to temporize. Captain Ingraham refused to listen to him. " To avoid the worst," he said, " I will agree to let the man be delivered to the French Consul at Smyrna until you have opportunity to communicate with your government. But he must be delivered there, or I will take him. I have stated the time." At twelve o'clock a boat left the Huzzar with Koszta in it, and an hour later the French Consul sent word that Koszta was in his keeping. Then several of the Austrian war-wessels sailed out of the harbor. Long negotia- tions between the two governments followed, and in the end Austria ad- mitted that the United States was in the right, and apologized. Scarcely had the plaudits which greeted Captain Ingraham's intrepid course died away, when, the next year, another occasion arose where our p-overnraent was obliged to resort to the show of force. This time Nica- rao-ua was the country involved. Various outrages, as was contended, had been committed on the persons and property of American citizens dwelling THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 389 in that country. The repeated demands for redress were not complied with. Peaceful negotiations having failed, in fune, 1854, The Trouble Commander Hollins, with the sloop of war Cyane, was with Nicara- ordercd to proceed to the town of San Juan, or Greytown, Rua which, lies on the Mosquito coast of Nicaragua, and to insist on favorable action from the Nicaraguan government. Captain Hollins came to anchor off the coast and placed his demands before the authorities. He waited patiently for a response, but no satisfac- tory one was offered him. After a number of days he made a final appeal and then proceeded to can-}- out his instructions. On the morning- of July 13th he directed his batteries on the town of San Juan and opened fire. Until four o'clock in the afternoon the ship poured out broadsides as fast as its guns could be loaded. By that time the greater part of the town was destroyed. Then a party of marines was put on shore, and completed the destruction of the: place by burning the houses. A lieutenant of the British navy commanding a small vessel of war was in the harbor at the time. England claimed a species of protectorate over the settlement, and the British officer raised violent protest against the action taken by America's representative. Captain Hollins, however, paid no attention to the interference and carried out his instructions. The United States government later sustained Captain Hollins in everything he had done, and England thereupon thought best to let the matter drop. In this that country was unquestionably wise. At this time the United States seems to have entered upon a period of international conflict ; for no sooner had the difficulties with Austria and Nicaragua been adjusted than another war-cloud appeared on the horizon. Here again only a year from the last contlict had elapsed, for in 1855 an offense was committed against the United States by Paraguay. To explain what it was we shall have to go back three years. "*? 1 & •' \V aters In 1852 Captain Thomas f. Page, commanding a small light- draught steamer, the Water Witch, by direction of his government started for South America to explore the River La Plata and its large tributaries, with a view to opening up commercial intercourse between the United States and the interior States of South America. We have said that the expedition was ordered by our government; it also remains to be noted that it was undertaken with the full consent and approbation of the countries having jurisdiction over those waters. Slowly, but surely, the little steamer pushed her way up the river, making soundings and charting the river as she proceeded. All went well until February 1, 1855, when the first sign of trouble appeared. 390 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD It was a lovely day in early summer — the summer begins in February in that latitude — and nothing appeared to indicate the slightest disturbance The little Water M'itcli was quietly steaming up the River Parana, which forms the northern boundary of the State of Corrientes. separating it from Paraguay, when suddenly, without a moment's warning, a battery from Fort Itaparu. on the Paraguayan shore, opened fire upon her, immediately killing r he Assault on ?{ ' ner crew - wno at that time was at the wheel. The the "Water Water Witch was not fitted for hostilities; least of all could she assume the risk of attempting to run the batteries of the fort. Accordingly, Captain Page put the r about, and was soon out of range. It should here be explained that at that time President Carlos A. Lopez was the autocratic ruler of Paraguay, and that he had previously Lptain Page with every assurance of friendship. A tew months previ wever. Lopez h en antagonized by the United States con- sul at Ascencion. This gentleman, in addition to his official position, acted as agent for an American mercantile company of which Lopez disapproved and whose business he had broker. He had als issued a decree forbidding f - war to navigate the Parana or any of the waters boun ,uay, which he clearly had no right to do, as half the stream belonged to the country bo deringr on the other side. it impr cticable to prosecute his exploration any further, at once returned to the Ur 5l where he gave the Washington authorit: int of the occurrence. It \ med by our rnment that the • as not subject to the jurisdiction of Para, is the channel v. equal property of the Argentine Republic It was furthe r d that, even if she had been within the jurisdict I Para- guay, she w. sselof :ent boat employed ior scientific purposes. And even were the vessel supposed to be a war of international riomt and 5y to fire > without first ful means. At that time William L. Marcy, one of the fore: n hisday, was - :ary of State. Mr. Marcy at once wrote i str rig letter to the Par. - _ ■ "anient, stating Marcy Demands . , , . Reparation s the action oi Paraguay in firing ild not irection, however, proved fruit! — us give a reparation ; and not terican vessel would be allowed to as the I the purpose indicated. THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 39 1 The e\ known, d not a little excitement; and while there were some wh sort to extreme measures, the general sentiment of the country was decidedly manifested in favor of an rtion of our rights in the p Accordingly, President Pierce sent. a me justment of the difficulty was impossible, and asking for authority to send such a naval force to Paraguay as would compel her arbitrary rul< e the full satisfaction demanded. To this request Con iromptly and almost unanimously gave at, and one of the str naval expeditions ever fitted out by the Unit S tes up to that time was ordered to ble at the mouth of La Plata River. The licet was an imposing or the purpose, and com- prised nin- : ven of which w pecially a Powerful chartered for the purpose, as our largest war vessels were of Fleet Sent to too deep draught to ascend the La Plata and Parana. The Paraguay entire squadron carried 200 guns and 2,50x3 nd was commanded by >fficer, afterward r rural, Shubrick, one of the oldest officers of our navy, and one of the : .ilant men that ever trod a quarter-deck. Officer Shubrick was accompanied by United States Commissioner Bowlin, to whom was intrusted negotiations for the settlement of the difficulty. Three years and eleven months had now passed since the Water Witch was tired upon, and President Buchanan had succeeded Franklin Pierce. The winter of 1S59 was jus - g in at the north ; the streams were cl by ice, and the lakes w nd, but the palm trees of the south were displaying their fresh green leaves, like so many fringed banners, in the warm tropical air when the United States squadron assembled at Monte- The fleet included two United States frigates, the , and the St. I. : ; two ■ th and the Preble; three brigs, the I cially armed fort'.- -ion, th- 'an/a, th< rn Star, the TVes ,- two arm ships, th V and tl Harriet Lane; and, lastly, the little 'Water Witch herself, no I defenceless, but in fighting trim for hostiliti On uary. 1S59, within just one week of four years from ■the firing got under way and can anchor 1 encion, tiv ay. Meanwhile The Ships President Urquiza, of the Argentine Republic, who had Anchor off offered his services to mediate the difficulty, had arrived at Ascencion Ascencion in a Ivance of the squadron. The negotiations topened ?o^ THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD Commissioner Bowlin made his demand for instant reparation. All this time Flag Officer Shubrick was not idle. With such of our vessels as were of suitable size he ascended the river, taking them through the difficulties created by its currents, shoals and sand bars, and brought them to a position above the town, where they were made ready for action in case of necessity to open fire. The force within striking distance of Paraguay consisted of 1,740 men, besides the officers, and 78 guns, including 23 nine-inch shell guns and one shell gun of eleven inches. Ships and guns proved to be very strong arguments with Lopez. It did not take the Dictator-President long to see that the United States meant business, and that the time for trifling had passed and the time for serious work had come. President Lopez's cerebral processes worked with re- markable and encouraging celerity. By February 5th, within less than two weeks of the starting of the squadron from Montevideo, Commissioner Bowlin's demands were all acceded to. Ample apologies were made for „ . . . . firingf on the Water Witch, and pecuniary compensation was President Lopez & _ l ■ l Brought «o given to the family of the sailor who had been killed. In Terms addition to this, a new commercial treaty was made, and cordial relations were fully restored between the two governments. A period of more than thirty years now elapsed before any serious dif- ficulty occurred with a foreign power. In 1891 an event took place that threatened to disturb our relations with Chili and possibly involve the United States in war with that power. Happily the matter reached a peace- ful settlement. In January, of that year, civil war had broken out in Chili, the cause of which was a contest between the legislative branch of the eovernment The Civil War and the executive, for the control of affairs. The President of in ChiH Chili, General Balmaceda, began to assert authority which the legislature, or " the Congressionalists," as the opposing party was called, resisted as unconstitutional and oppressive, and they accordingly proceeded to interfere with Balmaceda's Cabinet in its efforts to carry out the presi- dent's despotic will. Finally matters came to a point where appeal to arms was necessary. On the 9th of January the Congressional party took possession of the greater part of the Chilian fleet, the navy being in hearty sympathy with them, and the guns of the warships were turned against Balmaceda, — Valparaiso, the capital, and other ports being blockaded by the ships. For a time Balmaceda maintained control of the capital and the southern part of the country. The key to the position was Valparaiso, which was strongly fortified, Balmaceda's army being massed there and placed at available points- THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 393 At last the Congfressionalists determined to attack Balmaceda at his capital, and on August 21st landed every available fighting man at their disposal at Concon, about ten miles north of Valparaiso. They were attacked by the Dictator on the 22d, there being twenty thousand men on each side. The Dictator had the worst of it. Then he rallied his shattered forces, and made his last stand at Placillo, close to Valp; on the 28th. The battle was hot, the carnage fearful ; neither side asked for or received quarter. The magazine ritles, with which the revolutionists were armed, did wonders. The odds were against Balmaceda ; both his generals quar- reled in face of the enemy ; his army became divided and tie- moralized. In a later battle both of his generals were killed. Th e Overthrow • of Balmaceda The valor and the superior tactics oi General Canto, leader of the Congressional army, won the day. balmaceda tied and eventually committed suicide, and the Congressionalists entered the capital in triumph. Several incidents meantime! had conspired, during the progress of this war, to rouse the animosity of the stronger party in Chili against the United States. before the Congressionalists' triumph the steamship Itata, load : 1 with American arms and ammunition for Chili, sailed from San Francisco, and as this was a violation of the neutrality laws, a United States war \ pursued her to the harbor of Iquique, where she surrendered. Then other troubles arose. Our minister at Valparaiso, Mr. Egan, was chat by the ■ ressionalists, then in power, with disregarding international law in allowing the American Legation to be made an asylum lor the adherents of Balmaceda. Subsequently these refugees were permitted to go aboard American vessels and sail away. Then Admiral Brown, of the United States squadron, was, in Chili's opinion, guilty of having acted as a spy upon the movements of the Congressionalists' fleet at Quinteros, and of bringing intelligence of its movements to balmaceda at Valparaiso. This, however, the Admiral stoutly denied. The strong popular feeling of dislike which was engendered by these charges culminated on tne i6thof October, in an attack upon American sea- men by a mob in the streets of the Chilian capital. Captain Schley, com- mander of the United States cruiser Baltimore, had given shore-leave to a hundred and seventeen petty officers and seamen, some of An Attack on whom, when they had been on shore for several hours, were the Men of set upon by Chilians. They to fusfe in a street car, from ",, a r ■> J » > more " which, however, they were soon driven and mercilessly beaten, and a subordinate officer named Riggen fell, apparently lifeless. The Ameri- can sailors, according to Captain Schley's testimony, were sober and 394 THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD conducting- themselves with propriety when the attack was made. They were not armed, even their knives having- been taken from them before they left the vessel. The assault upon those in the street car seemed to be only a signal for a general uprising ; and a mob which is variously estimated at from one thousand to two thousand people attacked our sailors with such fury that in a little while these men, whom no investigation could find guilty of any breach of the peace, were fleeing for their lives before an overwhelming crowd, among which were a number of the police of Valparaiso. In this affray eighteen sailors were stabbed, several dying from their wounds. Of course the United States government at once communicated with the Chilian authorities on the subject, expressing an intention to investigate the occurrence fully. The first reply made to the American government by Signor Matta, the Chilian minister of foreign affairs, was to the effect that Chili would not allow anything to interfere with her own official investi- gation. An examination of all the facts was made on our part. It was careful and thorough, and showed that our flag had been insulted in the persons of American seamen. Yet, while the Chilian court of inquiry could present An Investiga- no extenuating facts, that country refused at first to offer tion De- apology or reparation for the affront. In the course of the correspondence Minister Matta sent a note of instruction to Mr. Montt, Chilian representative at Washington, in which he used the most offensive terms in relation to the United States, and directed that the letter should be given to the press for publication. After waitino- for a lone time for the result of the investigation at Valparaiso, and finding that, although no excuse or palliation had been found for the outrage, the Chilian authorities seemed reluctant to offer apology, the President of the United States, in a message to Congress, made an ex- tended statement of the various incidents of the case and its legal aspect, and stated that on the 21st of January he had caused a peremptory com- munication to be presented to the Chilian government by the American minister at Santiago, in which severance of diplomatic relations was threatened if our demands for satisfaction, which included the withdrawal of Mr. Matta's insulting note, were not complied with. At the time that this message was delivered no reply had been sent to the note. Mr. Harrison's statement of the legal aspect of the case, upon which the final settlement of the difficulty was based, was that the presence of a warship of any nation in a port belonging to a friendly power is by virtue of a general invitation which nations are held to extend to each other ; that THE UNITED STATES SUSTAINS ITS DIGNITY ABROAD 395 Commander Schley was invited, with his officers and crew, to enjoy the hospitality of Valparaiso; that while no claim that an attack which an individual sailor may be subjected to raises an international The American question, yet where the resident population assault sailors of CasePre- another country's war \ . as at Valparaiso, animated by an &ented animosity against the government to which they belong, that government must act as it would if the representatives or flag of the nation had been attacked, since the sailors are there by the order of their government. Finally an ultimatum was sent from the State department at Washing- ton, on the 25th, to Minister Egan, and was by him transmitted to the proper Chilian authorities. It demanded the retraction of Mr. Matta's note and suitable apology and reparation for the insult and injury chili offers an sustained by the United Si.ites. ( )n the 28th of January, Apoiogyand 1892, a dispatch from Chili was received, in which the de- Reparation mands of our government were full\ acceded to, the offensive letter was withdrawn, and regret was expressed for the occurrence. In his relation to this particular case, Minister Egan's conduct received the entire approval of his government. While the United States looked for a peaceful solution of this annoy- ing international episode, the proper preparations were made for a less desirable outcome. Our naval force was put in as efficient a condition as possible, and the vessels which were then in the navy yard were got ready for service with all expedition. If the Chilian war-scare did nothing else, it aroused a wholesome interest in naval matters throughout the whole of the United States, and by focusing attention upon the needs of this branch of the public service, showed at once how helpless we might become in the event of a war with any first-class power. We may thank Chili that to-day the United States Navy is in a better condition than at any time in our history. When the great Napoleon was overthrown, France, Russia, Prussia and Austria formed an alliance for preserving the "balance of power" and for suppressing revolutions within one another's dominions. This has been spoken of in a preceding chapter as the " Holy Alliance." At the time the Spanish South American colonies were in revolt, and the alliance had taken steps indicating an intention to aid in their reduction. George Can- ning, the English secretary of state, pr to our country that we should unite with England in preventing such an outrage against Th n civilization. It was a momentous question, and President \^er cent. In 1S32 he allowed himself, very unwisely, to be a candidate for he presidency, Jackson's re-election being a foregone conclusion. In 1836 .lined a nomination, and Van Buren was elected. Then followed the Sank of 1837, which insured the defeat of the party in power, and the elec- ion of the Whig candidate at the following presidential election ; but the >opularity of General Jackson had convinced the party managers that sue- ess demanded a military hero as a • ate; and accordingly General aarrison, "the hero of Tippecanoe," was elected, after the famous "Log Jabin and Hard Cider campaign " of 1840. This slight was deeply morti- ying to Clay, who had counted with confidence upon being the candidate >f the party. "I am the most unfortunate man in the history of parties," le truly remarked; "always run by my friends when sure to be defeated, .nd now betrayed for a nomination when I, or any one else, would be sure >f an election." In 1S44, however, Clay's opportunity came at last. He was so obvi- msly the Whig candidate that there was no opposition. The ciayasa :onvention met. at Baltimore in May, and he was nominated Presidential >y acclamation, with a shout that shook the building. Every- Ca n f a friend's 111 ' 1 1 , • 1 1 1 An ° rator of arm, to climb the steps ot the Capitol, he was never absent seventy-two on the days when the compromise was to be debated. On the morning on which he began his great speech, he was accompanied by a clerical friend, to whom h • said, on reaching the long flight of steps leading to the Capitol, "Will you lend me your arm, my friend? for I find myself quite weak and exhausted this morning." Every few steps he was obli to stop and take breath. "Had you not better defer your speech ?" a; the clergyman. " My dear friend," said the dying orator. " I consider our country in danger ; and if I can be the means, in any measure, of averting that danger, my health or life is of little consequence." When he rose to speak it was but too evident that he was unfit for the task he had under- taken. But as he kindled with his subject, his cough left him, and his bent form resumed all its wonted erectness and majesty. lie may, in the prime of his strength, have spoken with more energy, but never with so much pathos or grandeur. His speech lasted two days; and though he lived two years longer, he never recovered from the effects of the effort. I he ther- Hiometer in the Senate chamber marked nearly 100 degrees. Toward the close of the second day, his friends repeatedly proposed an adjournment; but he would not desist until he had given complete utterance to his feelin-s. lb- >aid afterwards that he was not sure, if he gave way to an adjournment, that he should ever be able to resume. N< ver was Clay's devotion to the Union displayed in such thrilling and pathetic forms as in the course of this long debate. On one occasion allu- sion was made to a South Carolina hot-head, who had publicly , ,. ', Clav's Tribute proposed to raise the Hag of disunion. When Clay retorted to the Union by saying, that, if Mr. Rhett had really meant that pro- position, and should follow it up by corresponding acts, he would be a traitor, and added, "and I hope he will meet a traitor's fate," thunders of applause broke from the crow galleries. When the chairman succeeded 404 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION in restoring silence. Mr. Clay made that celebrated declaration which was so frequently quoted in 1861 : " If Kentucky to-morrow shall unfurl the banner of resistance unjustly, I will never fight under that banner. I owe para- mount allegiance to the whole Union, a subordinate one to my own state." Again : " The senator speaks of Virginia being my country. This Union, sir, is my country ; the thirty states are my country ; Kentucky is my country, and Virginia, no more than any state in the Union." And yet again: "There are those who think that the Union must be preserved by an exclusive reliance upon love and reason. That is not my opinion. I have some confidence in this instrumentality ; but, depend upon it, no human government can exist without the power of applying force, and the actual application of it in extreme cases." The compromise offered by Clay became known as the "Omnibus Bill," from the various measures it covered. It embraced the following provi- sions : 1. California should be admitted as a free state. 2. New Mexico and Utah should be formed into territories, and the question of the admis- sion of slavery be left for their people to decide. 3. Texas should give up part of the territory it claimed, and be paid $10,000,000 as ' B - ii mr " " S a recom P ense - 4~ The slave-trade should be prohibited in the District of Columbia. 5. A stringent law for the return of fugitive slaves to their masters should be enacted. The question concerning Texas was the following : Texas claimed that its western boundary followed the Rio Grande to its source. This took in territory which had never been part of Texas, but the claim was strongly pushed, and was settled in the manner above stated. The serious question, however, in this compromise was that concerning the return of fugitive slaves. When an effort was made to enforce the Fugitive Slave Law great opposition was excited, on account of the stringency of its provisions. The fugitive, when arrested, was not permitted to testify in his own behalf or to claim trial by jury, and all persons were required to assist the' United States Effect of the marshal, when called upon for aid. To assist a fugitive to Fugitive Slave escape was an offence punishable by fine and imprisonment. ' In the last two respects the law failed; and its severe pro- visions added greatly to the strength of the anti-slavery party, and thus had much to do in bringing on the Civil War. Side by side with Clay in the senate stood another and greater figure, the majestic presence of Daniel Webster, one of the greatest orators the world has ever known, a man fitted to stand on the rostrum with Demos- thenes, the renowned orator of Greece, or with Chatham, Burke, or Glad- stone of the British parliament THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 405 In the hall of the United States Senate, on January 26, 1830, occurred what may be considered the most memorable scene in the annals of Congress. It was then thai Daniel Webster made his famous " Reply to Hayne," — that renowned speech which has been declared the e ' ' ep y „ greatest oration ever made in Congress, and which, in its far- reaching effect upon the public mind, did so much to shape the future destiny of the American Union. That speech was Webster's crowning work, and the event of his life by which lie will lie best known to posterity. Nothing in our history is more striking than the contrast between the Union of the time ol Washington and the Union of the time of Lincoln. It was not merely that in the intervening seventy-two years the republic had grown great and powerful ; it was that the popular sentiment toward the Union was transformed. The old feeling of distrust and jealousy had given place to a passionate attachment. It was as though a puny, sickly, feeble child, not expected by its parents even to live, had come to be their strong defense and support, their joy and pride. A weak league of states had become a strong nation ; and when in [861 it was attacked, millions of men were ready to fight for its defence. What brought about this great change? What was it that stirred the larger patriotism that gave shape and purpose to this growing feeling of national pride and unity? It was in a great degree the work of Daniel Webster. It was he who maintained and advocated the theory that the Federal Constitution created, not a league, but a nation; that it welded the people into organic union, supreme and per- petual. Me it was who set forth in splendid completeness the picture of a great nation, inseparably united, commanding the first allegiance and loyalty of every citizen ; and who so fostered and strengthened the sentiment of union that, when the great struggle came, it had grown too strong to be over- thrown. No description of Daniel Webster is complete or adequate which fails to describe his extraordinary personal appearance. In lace, form and voice nature did her utmost for him. So impressive was his pre- Webster's Per. sence that men commonly spoke of this man of five feet ten sonal Appear- inches in height and less than two hundred pounds in weight as a giant, lie seemed to dwarf those surrounding him. His head was very large, but of noble shape, with broad and lofty brow, and strong but finely cut features. His eyes were remarkable. They were large and deep-set, and in the excitement of an eloquent appeal they glowed with the deep light of the lire of a forge. His voice was in harmony with his appearance. In conversation it was low and musical ; in debate it was high but full. In moments of excitement it rang out like a clarion, whence it would sink into 4 o6 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION notes ol the solemn richness of organ tones, while the grace and dignity of V i nd P r ^' s manner added greatly to the impressive delivery of his sonal Mag- words. That wonderful quality which we call personal mag- netism of netism, the power of impressing by one's personality every human being who comes near, was at its height in Mr. Webster. He never punished his children. It sufficed, when they did wrong, to send for them and look at them in silence. The look, whether of sorrow or anger, was rebuke and punishment enough. As an orator, Mr. Webster's most famous speeches were the Plymouth Rock address, in 1820; the Bunker Hill Monument address, in 1825 ; and his orations in the Senate in 1830 in reply to Hayne, and in 1850 on Clay's Compromise Bill. Greatest among these was the speech in reply to Robert Y. Hayne, of South Carolina, on the 26th of January, 1830. The Union was threatened, and Webster rose to the utmost height of his N irf=<- t"° nn P ass i° ne d genius in this thrilling appeal for its preservation and endurance. The question under debate was the right of a state to nullify the acts of Congress. Hayne, in sustaining the affirmative of this dangerous proposition, had bitterly assailed New England, and had attacked Mr. Webster by caustic personalities, rousing "the giant" to a crushing reply. 'There was," says Edward Everett, "a very great excitement in Washington, growing out of the controversies of the day, and the action of the South ; and party spirit ran uncommonly high. There seemed to be a preconcerted action on the part of the southern members to break down the northern men, and to destroy their force and influence by a pre- meditated onslaught. " Mr. Hayne's speech was an eloquent one, as all know who ever read it. He was considered the foremost southerner in debate, except Calhoun, who was vice-president and could not enter the arena. Mr. Hayne was the champion of the southern side. Those who heard his speech felt much alarm, for two reasons ; first, on account of its eloquence and power, and second, because of its many personalities. It was thought by many who heard it, and by some of Mr. Webster's personal friends, that it was im- possible for him to answer the speech. 1 1 shared a little myself in that fear and apprehension," said Mr. Everett. " I knew from what I heard concerning General Hayne's speech that it was a very masterly effort, and delivered with a great ?^"^ s s peec deal of power and with an air of triumph. I was engaged on that day in a committee of which I was chairman, and could not be present in the Senate. But immediately after the adjournment, THE PRESERVATION OE THE UNION 4oy I hastened to Mr. Webster's house, with, I admit, some little trepidation, not knowing how I should find him. But I was quite re-assured in a moment after seeing Mr. Webster, and observing his entire calmness. lie seemed to be as much at ease and as unmoved as I ever saw him. Indeed, at first I was a little afraid from this that he was not quite aware of the magnitude of the contest. I said at once " ' Mr. Hayne has made a speech ?' "'Yes, he has made a speech.' "'You reply in the morning?' "'Yes,' said Mr. Webster, ' I do not propose to let the case go by de- fault, and without saying a word.' '"Did you take notes, Mr. Webster, of Mr. Hayne's speech?' "Mr. Webster took from his vest pocket a piece of paper about as big as the palm of his hand, and replied, ' I have it all : that is Webster his Speech.' Preparesfor "I immediately arose," said Mr. Everett, "and remarked py to him that I would not disturb him longer; Mr. Webster desired me not to hasten, as he had no desire to be alone ; but I left." "On the morning of the memorable day," writes Mr. Lodge, "the Senate chamber was packed by an eager and excited crowd. Every seat on the floor and in the galleries was occupied, and all the available standing- room was filled. The protracted debate, conducted with so much ability on both sides, had excited the attention of the whole country, and had given time for the arrival of hundreds of interested spectators from all parts of the Union, and especially from New England. " In the midst of the hush of expectation, in that dead silence which is so peculiarly oppressive because it is possible only when many human beings are gathered together, Mr. Webster arose. His personal grandeur and his majestic calm thrilled all who looked upon him. With perfect quietness, unaffected apparently by the atmosphere of intense feeling about /.(im, he said, in a low, even tone: "' Mr. President: When the mariner has been tossed for many days in thick weather and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his xhe Opening latitude and ascertain how far the elements have driven him of a Great from his true course. Let us imitate this prudence ; and peec before we float farther on the waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we departed, that we may, at least, be able to conjecture where we are now. I ask for the reading of the resolution before the Senate.' 4 o8 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION "This opening sentence was a piece of consummate art. The simple and appropriate image, the low voice, the calm manner, relieved the strained excitement of the audience, which might have ended by disconcerting the speaker if it had been maintained. Every one was now at his ease ; and when the monotonous reading of the resolution ceased, Mr. Webster was master of the situation, and had his listeners in complete control." With breathless attention they followed him as he proceeded. The strong, masculine sentences, the sarcasm, the pathos, the reasoning, the burning appeals to love of state and country, flowed on unbroken. As his feelings warmed the fire came into his eyes ; there was a glow in his swarthy cheek ; his strong right arm seemed to sweep away resistlessly the whole phalanx of his opponents, and the deep and melodious cadences of his voice sounded like harmonious organ tones as they filled the chamber with their music. Who that ever read or heard it can forget the closing passage of that glorious speech ? " When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance behold rather the glori- agrn icer Qug ens jp- n f t j ie re public, now known and honored through- Peroration . . out the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured ; bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth ? or those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable !" As the last words died away into silence, those who had listened looked wonderingly at each other, dimly conscious that they had heard one of the grand speeches which are landmarks in the history of eloquence ; and the men of the North and of New England went forth full of the pride of victory, for their champion had triumphed, and no assurance was needed to prove to the world that this time no answer could be made. Calhoun, the The great supporter of the doctrine which Hayne advo- Advocateof cated and which Webster tore into shreds and fragments, the ery indefatigable sustainer of the institution of slavery in the United States Congress, was John C. Calhoun. That this man was sincere in his conviction that slavery was morally and politically right, and beneficial 1'HOMAS JEFFERSON ANDREW JACKSON. i- ■ [OHN Ql INC\ IDAMS - •- / \i 1IAKV I AYLl 'R PATRK.K HENRY. HKXRY CLAY DANIEL WEBSIER. HENRY WARD BEECH ER. JUHN li. GOUGH. HENRY W. GRADY. CttAUNCEY M. DEPEW. WENDELL PHILLIPS. EDWARD EVERETT p.dcat jviFDiriM npATnPQ 4\rn qtatfcvtpn THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION 4II alike to white and black, to North and South, nc one has questioned. He was one of the most upright of men; one devoid of pretence or conceal- ment : a man of pure honesty of purpose and great ability and in conse- quence of immensi influence. His own stale followed his lead with unques- tioning faith, and it is not too much to say that the slavery conflict was in great measure due to the doctrines which he unceasingly advocated for a quarter of a century. Calhoun is equally well known for his state rights championship and in connection with the effort of South Carolina to secede from the Union, as a consequence of the tariff hill of 1828. This measure, which, consider- ably increased the duties on imports, aroused bitter opposition in the South, where it was styled the "Tariff of Abominations." On its passage Calhoun prepared a vigorous paper called the- " South Carolina Exposi- The Sotlt(l tion," in which he maintained that the Constitution limited the Carolina Ex- right of Congress to exact tariff charges to the purpose of position revenue; that protective duties were, therefore, unconstitutional; and that any state had the right to declare an un tutional law null and void, and forbid its execution in that state. Such was the famous doctrine of " nullification." This paper was issued in [828, Calhoun being then Vice-President un- der Jackson, and as such president of the senate. In 1829, the long debate 0.1 the question : "Does the Constitution make us one sovereign nation or only a league of separate states?" reached its height. Its climax came in January, 1830, in the remarkable contest between Webster and I Iavne, above described. Webster showed that an attempt to nullify the laws of the nation was treason, ami would lead to revolution, in the employment of armed force to sustain it. To such a revolutionary measure South Carolina proceeded. After the presidential election of 1X32, Calhoun, who had resigned the vice-presi- dency, called a convention ol the people of the state, which The Ordinance passed the famous Ordinance of Nullification, declaring of Nullifica- the 182S tariff null and void in that state. tion The passage of the ordinance created intense excitement throughout the states. Everywhere the dread of civil war ami of the dissolution of the Union was entertained. Fortunately there was a Jackson, and not a Buchanan, in the presidential chair. Jackson was not a model President under ordinary circumst; but he was just the man for an emergency of this character, and he dealt with it much as he had dealt with the- Spaniards in Florida. On December 10, 1832, came out his vigorous proclamation against nullification. The governor of South Carolina issued a counter {12 THE PRESERVATION OF THE UNION proclamation, and called out twelve thousand volunteers. A crisis seemed at hand. Congress passed a " Force Bill " to provide for the t s .?^, &n ^ collection of the revenue in South Carolina, though Calhoun Nullification _ to — then in the Senate — opposed it in the most powerful of his speeches. It is said that Jackson warned him that, if any resistance to the government was made in South Carolina, he would be at once arrested on a charge of treason. The President made prompt preparations to suppress the threatened revolt by force of arms, troops and naval vessels being sent to Charleston. But at the same time Congress made concessions to South Carolina and the crisis passed. It was through the efforts of Henry Clay as already specified that this warcloud was dissipated. The tariff question settled, Calhoun Seeks , , . „,. . . , , . to Force the the slavery issue grew prominent. 1 he agitation ot this ques- Issueof tion, from 183510 1850, was chiefly the work of one man, John C. avery Calhoun. Parton says that "the labors of Mr. Garrison and Mr. Wendell Phillips might have borne no fruit during their lifetime, if Cal- houn had not made it his business to supply them with material. ' I mean to force the issue on the North,' he once wrote ; and he did force it. This chapter cannot be more fitly closed than with a quotation from Harriet Martineau, in whose "Retrospect of Western Travel" we find the following pen-picture of the three great statesmen above treated : " Mr. Clay sitting upright on the sofa, with his snuff-box ever in his hand, would A Pen Picture of discourse for many an hour in his even, soft, deliberate tone, Three Qreat on any one of the great subjects of American policy which we might happen to start, always amazing us with the moder^ ation of estimate and speech which so impetuous a nature has been able to attain. Mr. Webster, leaning back at his ease, telling stories, cracking jokes, shaking the sofa with burst after burst of laughter, or smoothly dis- coursing to the perfect felicity of the logical part of one's constitution, would illuminate an evening now and then. Mr. Calhoun, the cast-iron man, who looks as if he had never been born and could never be extinguished, would come in sometimes to keep our understanding on a painful stretch for 3 short while, and leave us to take to pieces his close, rapid, theoretical, illus- trated talk, and see what we could make of it. We found it usually more worth retaining as a curiosity, than as either very just or useful. " I know of no man who lives in such utter intellectual solitude. He meets men and harangues by the fireside as in the Senate ; he is wrought like a piece of machinery, set going vehemently by a weight, ■ and stops while you answer ; he either passes by what you say, or twists it into a suitability with what is in his head, and begins to lecture again." CHAPTER XXVIII. The Annexation of Texas and the War with Mexico. WE have spoken, in Chapter xxiii, of the revolt of Texas from Mexico and the annexation of the newly formed republic to the United States. In the present chapter it is proposed to deal more fully with this subject and describe its results in the war with Mexico. In the year 1821, after more than ten years of struggle for freedom, Mexico Gains Mexico won its independence from Spain, and soon after its Indepen- founded a constitutional monarchy, with Augustin de Iturbide, ence the head of the revolutionary government, as emperor. This empire did not last long. General Santa Anna proclaimed a republic in 1823, and the emperor was obliged to resign his crown. In the following year he returned to Mexico with the hope of recovering his lost crown ; but, on the contrary, was arrested and shot as a traitor. Mexico is not a good country for emperors. About forty years afterward, a second emperor, sent there by 1' ranee, was disposed of in the same manner. The establishment of the republic was followed by earnest efforts in favor of the settlement and development of the unoccupied territory of the country, and Texas, a large province in its northeastern boundary, began to be settled by immigrants, very largely from the United States. „ , . • , , 11 The Settlement by 1830 the American population numbered about 20,000, f Texas being much in excess of that of Mexican origin. These people were largely of the pioneer class, bold, unruly, energetic frontiersmen, difficult to control under any government, and unanimous in their detestation of the tyranny of Mexican rule. Their American spirit rose against the dominance of those whom they called by tin- offensive title of "greasers," and in 1832 they broke into rebellion and drove all the Mexican troops out of the country. It was this revolt that brought the famous Samuel Houston to Texas. The early life of this born leader had been spent on the Tennessee frontier, and during much of his boyhood he had lived among the Cherokee Indians, who looked up to him as to one of their head chiefs. He fought under 413 414 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO Jackson in the war of 1S12, and was desperately wounded in the Creek War. He subsequently studied law, was elected to Congress, and in 1827 The Career became governor of Tennessee. An unhappy marriage brought of General to an end this promising part of his career. A separation from his wife was followed by calumnies on the part of her friends, which became so bitter that Houston, in disgust, left the state, and proceeded to Arkansas, where for three years he lived with his boyhood friends, the Cherokees. The outbreak in Texas offered a promising oppor- tunity to a man of his ambitious and enterprising disposition, and he set out for that region in December, 1832. For two years after Houston joined fortunes with Texas there was com- parative quiet ; but immigration went on in a steadily increasing stream, and the sentiment for independence grew stronger every day. The Mexi- can government, in fear of the growing strength of Texas, ordered that the people should be disarmed — a decree which aroused instant re- War in Texas bellion. A company of Mexican soldiers sent to the little town of Gonzales, on the Guadalupe, to remove a small brass six-pounder, was met a few miles from the town by one hundred and eighty Texans, who fell upon them with such vigor that they turned and fled, losing several men. No Texan was killed. This battle was called " the Lexington of Texas." Then war broke out again more furiously than ever. The Mexican soldiers, who were under weak and incompetent commanders, were again dispersed and driven out of the country. But now Santa Anna himself, the Mexican dictator, an able general, but a false and cruel man, took the field. With an army of several thousand men, he crossed the Rio Grande, and marched against the Texans. The town of Bexar, on the San Antonio River, was defended by a garrison of about one hundred and seventy-five men. Among them were two whose names are still famous — David Crockett, the renowned pioneer, and Colonel James Bowie, noted for his murderous " bowie-knife," his duels, and his deeds of valor and shame. The company was commanded by Colonel W. Barrett Travis, a brave young Texan. On the approach of Santa Anna, they took refuge in the Alamo, about half a mile to the north of the town. The Alamo was an ancient Franciscan mission of the eighteenth century. It covered an area of about three acres, surrounded by walls three feet thick and eicrht feet hicrh. Within the walls were a stone church The Massacre an< ^ several other buildings. For two weeks it withstood of the Alamo Santa Anna's assaults. A shower of bombs and cannon-balls fell incessantly within the walls. At last, after a brave de- fense by the little garrison, the fortress was captured, in the early morning ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 415 of Sunday, March 6, 1836. After the surrender, Travis, Howie and Crockett, with all their companions, were by Santa Anna's especial com- mand massacred in cold blood. But this was not the worst ; a few days afterwards a company of over four hundred Texans, under Colonel Fannin, besieged at Goliad, were in- duced to surrender, under Santa Anna's solemn promises of protection. After the surrender tiny were divided into several companies, marched in different directions a short distance out of the town, and shot down like dogs by the Mexican soldiers. Xot a man escaped. While these horrible events were taking place. Houston was at Gonza- les, with a force of less than four hundred men. Meetings were held in the different settlements to raise an arm)- to resist tin- Mexican invasion ; and a convention of the people issued a proclamation declaring Texas a free and independent republic. It was two weeks before General Houston received intelligence of the atrocious massacres at Bexar and Goliad, and of Santa Anna's advance. The country was in a state of panic. Settlers were everywhere abandoning their homes, and fleeing in terror at the approach of the Mexican soldiers. Houston's force of a few hundred men was the only defense of Texas; and even this was diminished by frequent desertion from the ranks. The cause of Texan freedom seemed utterly hopeless. In order to gain time, while watching his opportunity for attack, Hous- ton slowly retreated before the Mexican army. After waiting two weeks for reinforcements, he moved toward Buffalo Bayou, a deep, narrow stream connecting with the San Jacinto River, about twenty miles Q enera | Houston southeast of the present city of Houston. Here he expected and Santa to meet the Mexican army. The lines being formed. General Houston made one of his most impassioned and eloquent appeals to his troops, firing every breast by giving as a watchword, " Remember the Alamo." Soon the Mexican bugles rang out over the prairie, announcing the advance guard of the enemy, almost eighteen hundred strong. The rank and file of the patriots was less than seven hundred and fifty men. 'I heir disadvantages only served to increase the enthusiasm of the soldiers ; and when their general said, "Men. there is tin; enemy; do you wish to fight?' the universal shout was, "We do!" "Well, then," he said, "remember it is for liberty or death ; remember the Alamo!" At the moment of attack, a lieutenant came galloping up, his horse covered with foam, and shouted along the lines, " I've cut down Yince's bridge." Each army had used this bridge in coming to the battle-field, and General Houston had ordered its destruction, thus preventing all hope of escape to the vanquish* 416 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO Santa Anna's forces were in perfect order, awaiting the attack, and reserved their fire until the patriots were within sixty paces of their works. Then they poured forth a volley, which went over the heads of the at- tackers, though a ball struck General Houston's ankle, inflict- San J "nt * n & a vei T paioful wound. Though suffering and bleeding, General Houston kept his saddle during the entire action. The patriots held their fire until it was given to the enemy almost in their very bosoms, and then, having no time to reload, made a general rush upon the foe, who were altogether unprepared for the furious charge. The patriots not having bayonets, clubbed their rifles. About half-past four the Mexican rout began, and closed only with the night. Seven of the patriots were killed and twenty-three were wounded ; while the Mexicans had six hundred and thirty-two killed and wounded, and seven hundred and thirty, among whom was Santa Anna, made prisoners. The victory of San Jacinto struck the fetters forever from the hands of Texas, and drove back the standard of Mexico beyond the Rio Grande, never to return except in predatory and transient incursions. General Houston became at once the leading man in Texas, almost universal ap- plause following him. As soon as quiet and order were restored, he was made the first President of the new republic, under the Constitution adopted in November, 1835. In 1837 the republic of Texas was acknowledged by the United States, and in 1840 by Great Britain, France and Belgium. The population was overwhelmingly of American origin, and these people had in no sense lost their love for their former country, a sentiment in favor of the annexation of the " Lone Star State" to the United States being from the first enter- Texas Applies tained. In 1837 a formal application for admission as a state for Admission of the American Union was made. This proposition found many advocates and many opposers in this country, it being strongly objected to by northern Congressmen and favored by those from the South. The controversy turned upon the question of the extension of the area of slavery, which was a matter of importance to the South, while others who supported it held large tracts of land in Texas which they hoped would increase in value under United States rule. As a result of the opposition, the question remained open for years, and was prominent in the presidential campaign of 1844, > n which Henry Clay, the Whig candidate, was defeated, and James K. Polk, the Demo- cratic candidate, was elected on the annexation platform. This settled the dispute. The people had expressed their will and the opposition yielded. Both Houses of Congress passed a bill in favor of admitting Texas as a ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 417 state, and it was signed by President Tyler in the closing hours of his administration. The offer was unanimously accepted by the legislature of Texas on July 4, 1S45, and it became a state of the American Union in December of that year. In admitting Texas, Congress had opened the way to serious trouble. Though Mexico had taken no steps to re-cover its lost province, it had never acknowledged its independence, and stood over it somewhat like the doej in the manner, not prepared to take it, vet vigorously . . rr 'J & J jviexico Protests protesting against any other power doing so. Its protest against the action of the United States was soon followed by a more critical exigency, an active boundary dispute. Texas claimed the Rio Grande River as her western boundary. Mexico held that the Nueces River was the true boundary. Between these two streams lay a broad tract of land claimed by both nations, and which both soon sought to occupy. War arose in consequence of this ownership dispute. In the summer of 1845 President Polk directed General Zachary Taylor to proceed to Corpus Christi, on the Nueces, and in the spring of 1846 he received orders to march to the Rio Grande. As soon as this movement was made, the Mexicans claimed that their terri- tory had been invaded, ordered Taylor to retire, and on his ls| '" e refusal sent a body of troops across the river. Both countries were ripe for war, and both had taken steps to bring it on. A hostile meeting took place on April 24th, with some loss to both sides. On receiv- ing word by telegraph of this skirmish, the President at once sent a mes- sage to Congress, saying : " Mexico has passed the boundary of the United States, and shed American blood upon American soil. * * * War exists, notwithstanding all our efforts to avoid it." The efforts to avoid it had not been active. There was rather an effort to favor it. Abraham Lincoln, then a member of war Declared Congress, asked pointedly if special efforts had not been Against taken to provoke a war. But Congress responded favorably to the President's appeal, declared that war existed "by the act of Mexii and called for fifty thousand volunteers. The declaration of war was dated May 13, 1846. Several days before this, severe fights had taken place at Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, on the disputed territory. The Mexicans were defeated, and retreated across the Rio Grande. They were quickly followed by Taylor, who took posses- sion of the town of Matamoras. The plan of war laid out embraced an invasion of Mexico from four quarters. Taylor was to march southward from his position on the Rio Grande, General Winfield Scott to advance on 418 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO the capital by the way of Vera Cruz, General Stephen W, Kearny to in- vade New Mexico, and California was to be attacked by a naval expedition, already despatched. Taylor was quick to act after receiving reinforcements. He advanced on September 5th, and on the 9th reached Monterey, a strongly fortified interior town. The Mexicans looked upon this place as almost The storming impregnable, it being surrounded by mountains and ravines, of Monterey , -. r difficult to pass and easy of defense. Yet the Americans quickly penetrated to the walls, and were soon within the town, where a severe and bloody conflict took place. The stormers made their way over the house roofs and through excavations in the adobe walls, and in four days' time were in possession of the town which the Mexicans had confi- dently counted upon stopping their march. Some months passed before Taylor was in condition to advance again, his force being much depleted by reinforcements sent to General Scott. It was February, 1847, when he took the field once more, reaching a position south of Monterey known as Buena Vista, a narrow mountain Taylor at pass, with hills on one side and a ravine on the other. This Buena Vista L bold advance of an army not more than 5,000 strong seemed a splendid opportunity to Santa Anna, then commander-in-chief of the Mexican army, who marched on the small American force with 20,000 men. The battle that followed was the most interesting and hard fought one in the war. Santa Anna hoped to crush the Americans utterly, and would perhaps have done so but for the advantage of their position and the effec- tive service of their artillery. " You are surrounded by twenty thousand men, and cannot, in all human probability, avoid suffering rout and being cut to pieces with your troops." Such were the alarming words with which the Mexican general accompanied a summons to General Taylor to surrender within an hour. Taylor's answer was polite but brief. "In answer to your note of this date summoning me to surrender my forces at discretion, I beg leave to say that I decline acceeding to your request." General Taylor, or " Rough and Ready" as he was affectionately called by his men. had long before — he was now sixty-three years old — won his spurs on the battlefield. He was short, round-shouldered, and stout. His fore- head was high, his eyes keen, his mouth firm, with the lower lip protruding, his hair snow-white, and his expression betokened his essentially humane and unassuming character. No private could have lived in simpler fashion. When he could escape from his uniform he wore a linen roundabout, cotton trousers, and a straw hat, and, if it rained, an old brown overcoat. In battle Captai RATTLE OF RESACA DE LA PALMA BATTLt ur lwh osehorse S could d., a like feat, and was among undred of his men were made „ May leaped his s.eed over ,he parapets. Mb^l tg those £«. mer, *^« Vg— the ne*« moment, ANNEXATION OF TEXAS- WAR WITH MEXICO 421 he was absolutely fearless, and invariably rode a favourite white horse, alto- gether regardless of attracting the enemy's attention. The old hero never wavered when he heard of the approach of the dreaded Santa Anna. He quietly went to work, and, having strongly garrisoned Saltillo, placed his men so as to seize all the advantages the position offered. Imagine a narrow valley between two mountain ranges. On the west side of the road a series of gullies or ravines, on the east the sheer sides of precipitous mountains. Such was the Pass of Angostura, which, at one spot three miles from Buena Vista, could be ^ ''? ° . Battle held as easily as Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old ; and here was placed Captain Washington's batter) - of three guns, with two companies as a guard. Up the mountain to the eastward the rest of the American army was ranged, more especially on a plateau so high as to com- mand all the ground east and west, and only approachable from the south or north by intricate windings formed by ledges of rock. At nine o'clock on the morning of the 22c! of February the advance pickets espied the Mexican van, and General Wool sent in hot haste to Taylor, who was at Saltillo. The Mexican arm)' dragged its slow length along, its resplendent uniforms shining in the sun. With much the same feelings as Macbeth saw Birnam Wood approach, must man)' of the Amer- icans have watched the coming of this forest of steel. Two hours after the pickets had announced the van, a Mexican officer came forward with a white flag. He bore the imperious message from the dictator the opening words of which have already been quoted. The fight on that day was confined to an exchange of artillery shots, and at nightfall Taylor returned to Saltillo, seeing that the affair was over for tin; time. But during the night the Mexicans made a movement that put the small American force in serious peril. While the Americans bivouacked without fires in the bitter chill of the mountain height, some 1,500 Mexicans gained the summit under cover of the darkness, and when the mists of morning rose tin; Americans, to their surprise and chagrin, saw everywhere before them the batallions of the enemy. Up the pass soon came heavy force, in the face of Captain Washing- ton's battery, while a rush, that seemed as if it must be. irresistable, was made for the plateau. The fight here was desperate. The soldiers of neither army had had any experience in battle, and an Indiana The Mexican regiment retreated at the command of its colonel, and could Cavalry not be rallied again. This imperilled the safety of all who arge remained, many of them being killed, while only the active service of the artillery prevented the loss of the plateau, upon whose safe keeping 422 ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO depended the issue of the day. So fierce was the Mexican charge that every cannonier of the advanced battery fell beside his gun, and Captain O'Brien was obliged to fall back in haste,losinghisguns. He replaced them by two six pounders, borrowed from Captain Washington, who had repulsed the attack in the pass. Meanwhile, more American artillery on O'Brien's left was driving the Mexicans back upon the cavalry opposed to the gallant captain. The Mexican lancers charged the Illinois soldiers — "the very earth did shake." It was not until the lancers were within a few yards of O'Brien that he opened fire. This gave the Mexicans pause, but with cries of " God and Liberty !" on they came. Once more the deadly cannonade — ■ another pause. O'Brien determined to stand his ground until Batt" S t ' ie no °f s °f tne enemy's horses were upon him, but the recruits with him, only few of whom had escaped from being shot down, had no stomach left for fighting. The intrepid captain again lost his pieces, but he had saved the day. At this point the leisurely General Taylor, on his white horse, so easily recognisable, came from Saltillo to the field of battle. North of the chief plateau was another, where the Mississippi Rifles, under Colonel Davis — ■ who, although early wounded, kept his horse all day — stood at bay, formed into a V-shape with the opening towards the enemy. Nothing loth, the Mexican lancers rushed on, and the riflemen did not fire until they were able to recognize the features of their foe and to take deliberate aim at their eyes. This coolness was too great to be combated. For hours the active and deadly struggle went on. The Mexican lancers made an assault on Buena Vista, where were the American baggage and supply train, but were driven off after a sharp contest. At a later hour of the day the brunt of the fight was being borne by the Illinois regiment and the Second Kentucky Cavalry, who were in serious straits when Taylor sent to their relief a light battery under Captain Bragg. It was quickly in peril. The Mexicans captured the foremost guns and repulsed the infantry support. Bragg appealed for fresh help. " I have no reinforcements to give you," " Rough and Ready " is reported to have replied, " but Major Bliss and I will support you " ; and the brave old man spurred his horse to the spot beside the cannon. Unheeding; the Mexican cavalry The Work of r , - . , , , • r ^ , Captain Bragg r °d e forward — the day was now theirs for a certainty, " God and Liberty !" their proud cry again rang out. Their horses galloped so near to Captain Bragg's coign of vantage that their riders had no time in which to pull them up before the battery opened fire with canis- ter. As the smoke cleared, the little group of Americans saw the terrible ANNEXATION OF TEXAS— WAR WITH MEXICO 423 work they had done in the gaps in the enemy's ranks, and heard it in the screams of men and horses in agony. They reloaded with grape. i he Mexicans pressed on ; their courage at the cannon's mouth was truly mar- velous. This second shower of lead did equal, if not greater, mischief. A third discharge completely routed the enemy, who, being human, lied in headlong haste over the wounded and the dead — no matter where. The American infantry pursued the living foe, with foolish rashness, beyond safe limits. The Mexicans, all on an instant, turned about, the hounds became the hare, and had it not been for Washington's cannon checking the' Mexi- can cavalry, who had had enough grape and canister for one day, they would have been annihilated. At six o'clock, after ten hours of fierce ami uninterrupted lighting, the battle came to an end, both armies occupying the same positions as in the morning, though each had lost heavily during the day. General Taylor expected the battle to be renewed in the morning, but with daylight came the welcome news that the enemy had disappeared. The five thousand had held their own against four times their number, and the victory that was to make General Taylor President of the United States had been won. Meanwhile General Scott, the hero of Chippewa and Lundy's Lane in 1814, had sailed down the Gulf with a considerable force to the seaport city of Vera Cruz, which was taken after a brief bombardment. From here an overland march of two hundred miles was made to the Scott's Advance Mexican capital. Scott reached the vicinity of the City of Against the Mexico with a force 11,000 strong, and found its approaches strongly fortified and guarded by 30,000 men. Vet he pushed on almost unchecked. Victories were won at Contreras and Churubusco, the defences surrounding the city were taken, and on September 13th the most formid- able of them all, the strong hill fortress of Chapultepec, was carried by storm, the American troops charging up a steep hill in face of a severe fire and driving the garrison in dismay from their guns. This ended the war in that quarter. The next day the star and stripes waved over the famous " Halls of the Montezumas" and the city was ours. On February 2, 1S4S, a treaty of peace was signed at the village of Guada- lupe Hidalgo, whose terms gave the United States an accession of territory that was destined to prove of extraordinary value. New Mexico, a portion of this territory, had been invaded and occupied by General Kearny, who had taken Santa Fe after a thousand miles' march overland. Before the fleet sent to California could reach there, Captain John C. Fremont, in charge of a surveying party in Oregon, had invaded that country. He did not know that war had been declared, his purpose 424 ANNEXATION OF TEX AS— WAR WITH MEXICO being to protect the American settlers, whom the Mexicans threatened to expel. Fremont was one of the daring pioneers who made ew J J 5 *!^ . their way over the mountains and plains of the West in the and California J '. days when Indian hostility and the difficulties raised by nature made this a very arduous and perilous enterprise. Several conflicts with the Mexicans, in which he was aided by the fleet, and later by General Kearny, who had crossed the wild interior from Santa Fe, gave Fremont control of that great country, which was destined almost to double the wealth of the United States. Whatever be thought of the ethics of the acquisition of Texas and the Mexican war, their economical advantages to the United States have been enormous, and the whole world has been en- riched by the product of California's golden sands and fertile fields. CHAPTER XXIX. The Negro in America and the Slavery Conflict. WHEN, over two hundred and eighty years ago (it is in doubt whether the correct date is 1619 or 1620) a few wretched negn some say fourteen, some say twenty, were bartered for provisions by the crew of a Dutch man-of-war, then lying off the Virginia coast, it would h, 1 med incredible that in 1900 the negro population of the Southern States alone should reach very nearly eight million [ginning of souls. African n< indeed, been sold into slavery the Slave among many nations for perhaps three thousand years ; but in its ™ earlier periods slavery was rather the outcome of war than the deliberate subject of trade, and white captives no less than black were ruthlessly thrown into servitude. It has been estimated that in historical times some forty million Africans have been enslaved. The Spaniards found tint Indian an intractable slave, and for the arduous labors of colonization soon began to make use of negro slaves, importing them in great numbers and declaring that one negro was worth, as a human beast of burden, four Indians. Soon the English adventurers took up the traffic. It is to Sir John Hawkins, the ardent discoverer, that the English-speaking peoples owe their participation in the slave trade. He has put it on record, as the result of one of his famous voyages, that he found "that negroes were eery good merchandise in Hisp- aniola and might easily be had on the coast of Guinea." For his early adventures of this kind he was roundly taken to task by Queen Elizabeth. Hut tradition savs that he boldly faced her with the argument that the Africans were an inferior race, and ended by con- Numbers vincing the Virgin Queen that the slave trade was not merely a lucrative but a perfectly philanthropic undertaking. Certain it is that she acquiesced in future slave trading, while her successors Charles II. and James II. chartered four slave trading companies and received a share- in their profits. It is noteworthy that both Great Britain and the United States recognized the horrors of the slave trade as regards the seizing and trans- portation from Africa of the unhappy negroes, long before they could bring themselves to deal with the problem of slavery as a domestic institution. Oj those horrors nothing can be said in exaggeration. 14 425 420 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CON FLIC! The institution of slavery, introduced as we have seen into Virginia, grew at first very slowly. Twenty-five years after the first slaves were landed the negro population of the colony was only three hundred. But the conditions of agriculture and of climate were such that, once slavery Colonial Laws obtained a fair start, it spread with continually increasing About rapidity. We find the Colonial Assembly passing one after another a series of laws defining the condition of the negro slave more and more clearly, and more and more pitilessly. Thus, a dis- tinction was soon made between them and Indians held in servitude. It was enacted that "all servants not being Christians imported into this colony by shipping shall be slaves for their lives ; but what shall come by land shall serve, if boyes or girles. until thirty years of age ; if men or women, twelve years and no longer." And before the end of the century a long series of laws so encompassed the negro with limitations and pro- hibitions, that he almost ceased to have any criminal or civil rights and be- came a mere personal chattel. In some of the northern colonies slavery seemed to take root as readily and to flourish as rapidly as in the South. It was only after a considerable time that social and commercial conditions arose which led to its gradual Slavery in abandonment. In New York a mild type of negro slavery Early was introduced by the Dutch. The relation of master and slave seems in the period of the Dutch rule to have been free from great severity or cruelty. After the seizure of the government by the English, however, the institution was officially recognized and even en- couraged. The slave trade grew in magnitude ; and here again we find a series of oppressive laws forbidding meetings of negroes, laying down penalties for concealing slaves, and the like. When the Revolution broke out there were not less than fifteen thousand slaves in New York — a number greatly in excess of that held by any other northern colony. Massachusetts, the home in later days of so many of the most eloquent abolition agitators, was from the very first, until after the war with Great Britain was well under way, a stronghold of slavery. The records of 1633 tell of the fright of Indians who saw a "Blackamoor" in a treetop, whom they took for the devil in person, but who turned out to be an escaped Slavery in slave. A few years later the authorities of the colony offici- nassachu- ally recognized the institution. To quote Chief Justice Par- sons, " Slavery was introduced into Massachusetts soon after its first settlement, and was tolerated until the ratification of the present constitution in 1780." The curious may find in ancient Boston newspapers no lack of such advertisements as that, in 1728, of the sale of "two very THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SI AVERY CONFLICT 427 likely negro girls," and of "A likely negro woman of about nineteen years and a child about seven months of age, to be sold together or apart." A Tory writer before the outbreak of the Revolution sneers at the Bostonians for their talk about freedom when they possessed two thousand negro slaves. Even Peter Faneuil, who built the famous "Cradle of Liberty," was him- self, at that very time, actively 1 in the slave trade. There is some truth in the once common taunt of the pro-slaver) orators that the North imported slaves, the South only bought tl A with New York and Massachusetts, so with the other colonies. Either slavery was introduced by greedy speculators from abroad or it id easily from adjoining colonies. In 1776 the slave Ne gro Soldiers population of the thirteen colonies was almost exactly half a in the Revoiu- million, nine-tenths of whom were to be found in the southern tlon states. In the War of the Revolution the question of arming the negroes raised bitter opposition. In the end a comparatively few were- enrolled, ami it is admitted that they served faithfully and with courage. Rhode Island even formed a regiment of blacks, and at I of Newport and afterwards at Point's Bridge, New York, this body of soldiers fought not only without reproach but with positive heroism. From the day when the Declaration of Independence asserted "That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," the peoples of the new, self-governing states could not but have seen that with them lay the responsibility. There is ample evidence that the fixing of the popular mind on liberty as an ideal bore results immediately in arousing anti-slavery sentiment. Such sentiment existed in the South as well as in the- North. Even North Carolina in 1786 de- clared the slave trade of "evil consequences ami highly impolitic." All the northern states abolished slavery, beginning with Vermont C i. au i o o Slavery Abol- in 1777, and ending with New Jersey in 1804. It should be ished in the added, however, that man}- of the northern slaves were not North freed, but sold to the South. The agricultural and commercial conditions in the North were such as to make slave labor less and less profitable, while in the South the social order oi things, agricultural conditions, and climate were gradually making it seemingly indispensable. When 1 istitutional debates began the trend of opinion seemed strongly against slavery. Many delegates thought that the evil would die out of itself. One thought the abolition of slavery already rapidly going on and soon to be completed. Another asserted that "slavery in time wiil not be a speck in our country." Mr. JeiYerson, on the other hand, in view 428 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLA VERY CONFLICT of the retention of slavery, declared roundly that he trembled for his coun- try when he remembered that God was just. And John Adams urged again and again that " every measure of prudence ought to be assumed for the eventual total extirpation of slavery from the United States." The obstinate states in the convention were South Carolina and Georgia. Their delegates declared that their states would absolutely refuse ratification to the Con- stitution unless slavery were recognized. The compromise sections finally agreed upon, avoided the use of the words slave and slavery, but clearly recognized the institution, and even gave the slave states the advantage of sending representatives to Congress on a basis of population determined by adding to the whole number of free persons " three-fifths of all other per- sons." The other persons referred to were, it is almost needless to add, negro slaves. The entire dealing with the question of slavery, at the framing of the Constitution, was a series of compromises. This is seen again in the failure definitely to forbid the slave trade from abroad. Some of the southern Compromises states had absolutely declined to listen to any proposition in the Con- which would restrict their freedom of action in this matter, stitution an j they were yielded to so far that Congress was forbidden to make the traffic unlawful before the year 1808. As that time approached, President Jefferson urged Congress to withdraw the country from all "fur- ther participation in those violations of human rights which have so long been continued on the unoffending inhabitants of Africa." Such an act was at once adopted, and by it heavy fines were imposed on all persons fitting out vessels for the slave trade and also upon all actually engaged in the trade, while vessels so employed became absolutely forfeited. Twelve years later another act was passed declaring the importation of slaves to be actual piracy. The latter law, however, was of little practical value, as it was not until 1861 that a conviction was obtained under it. Then, at last, when the whole slave question was about to be settled forever, a ship- master was convicted and hanged for piracy in New York for the crime of being enoacr e d in the slave trade. In despite of all laws, however, the trade in slaves was continued secretly, and the profits were so enormous that the risks did not prevent continual attempts to smuggle slaves into the territory of the United States. The first quarter of a century of our history, after the adoption of the Constitution, was marked by comparative quietude in regard to the future of slavery. In the North, as we have seen, the institution died a natural death, but there was no disposition evinced in the northern states to inter- fere with it in the South. The first great battle took place in 1820 over THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 429 he so-called Missouri compromise. Now, for the first time, the country vas divid< d, 1 tionally and in a strict]}- political way, upon issues which in- volved the future- policy of the United States as to the extension or restric- ion of slave territory. State after state had been admitted , t r . , , 111 1 • r 1 1 The Slave Trade nto the Union, but there had been an alternation of slave and ree states, so that the political balance was not disturbed. Thus Ohio was jalanced by Lousiana, Indiana by Mississippi, Illinois by Alabama. Of the wenty-two states admitted before 1820, eleven were slave and eleven free tates. Immediately after the admission of Alabama, of course as a slave- lolding state. Maine and Missouri applied for admission. Tile admission )f Maine alone would have given a preponderance to the free states, and or this reason it was strongly contended by southern members that Mis- ouri should be admitted, as .1 slave state. But the sentiment of opposition o tlie extension of slavery was growing rapidly in the North, ami many nembers from that section opposed this proposition. They had believed hat the ordinance of 1 7S7, adopted simultaneously with the Constitution, md which forbade slavery to be established in the territory northwest of he Ohio, had settled this question definitely ; but this ordinance did not ipply to territory west of the Mississippi, so that the question really ■emained open. A herce debate was waged through two sessions of Con- gress, and in the end it was agreed to permit the introduction of slavery nto Missouri, but to prohibit it forever in all future states virnj- north of the parallel of 36 decrees 30 minutes, the ^ h ° Mlssouri => 1 ..,,'/ . Compromise iouthern boundary of Missouri. This was a compromise, latisfactory only because it seemed to dispose of the question of slavery n the territories once and forever. It was carried mainly by the great •ersonal influence of Henry Clay. It did, indeed, dispose of slavery as a natter of national legislative discussion for thirty years. But this interval was distinctively a period of popular agitation. Anti- .lavery sentiment of a mild type had long existed. The Quakers had, lince revolutionary times, held anti-slavery doctrines, had released their >wn servants from bondage, and had disfellowshiped members who refused concur in the sacrifice. The very last public act of Benjamin Franklin vas the framing- of a memorial to Congress in which he deprecated the :xistence of slavery in a free country. In New York the The Antl- Wanumission society had been founded in 1785, with John slavery Senti. ay and Alexander Hamilton, in turn, as its presidents. ment But this early writing and speaking were directed against slavery in a reneral way, and with no tone of aggression. Gradual emancipation and 43Q THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLA VERY CONFLICT colonization were the only remedies suggested. It was with the founding of the Liberator by William Lloyd Garrison, in 1831, that the era of aggressive abolitionism began. Garrison and his society maintained that slavery was a sin against God and man ; that immediate emancipation was a duty ; that slave owners had no claim to compensation ; that all laws up- holding slavery were, before God, null and void. Garrison exclaimed : " I am in earnest. I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch. And I will be heard." His paper bore conspicuously the motto " No union with slaveholders." The Abolitionists were, in numbers, a feeble band ; as a party they lever acquired strength, nor were their tenets adopted strictly by any political party ; but they served the purpose of arousing the conscience of the nation. They were abused, vilified, mobbed, all but killed. Garrison was dragged through the streets of Boston with a rope around his neck — through those very streets which, in 1854, had their shops closed and hung in black, with flags Union down and a huge coffin suspended in mid-air, on the day when the fugitive slave, Anthony Burns, was marched through them on his way back to his master, under a guard of nearly two thousand men. Mr. Garrison's society soon took the stand that the union of states with slavery retained was " an agreement with hell and a covenant with death," and openly advocated secession of the non-slaveholding states. On this issue the Abolitionists split into two branches, and those who threw off Leading Oppo- Garrison's lead maintained that there was power enough nentsof under the Constitution to do away with slavery. To the fierce invective and constant agitation of Garrison were, in time, added the splendid oratory of Wendell Phillips, the economic argu- ments of Horace Greeley, the wise statesmanship of Charles Sumner, the fervid writings of Charming and Emerson, and the noble poetry of Whit- her. All these and others, in varied ways and from different points of view, joined in bringing the public opinion of the North to the view that the permanent existence of slavery was incompatible with that of a free republic. In the South, meanwhile, the institution was intrenching itself more and more firmly. The invention of the cotton gin and the beginning of the reign of cotton as king made the great plantation system a seeming com- mercial necessity. From the deprecatory and half apologetic utterances of early southern statesmen, we come to Mr. Calhoun's declaration that slavery " now preserves in quiet and security more than six and a half million human beings, and that it could not be destroyed without destroying the peace and prosperity of nearly half the states in the Union," The Abolitionists were THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 43; regarded in the South with the bitterest hatred. Attempts were even made to compel the northern states to silence the anti-slavery orators, to prohibit the circulation through the mail of anti-slavery speeches, and to refuse a hearing- in Congress to anti-slavery petitions. The s out hem intluence of the South was still dominant in the North. Though Hatred of the feeling against slavery spread, there co-existed with it the belief that an open quarrel with the South meant commercial ruin ; and the anti-slavery sentiment was also neutralized by the nobler feeling that the Union must be preserved at all hazards, and that there was no constitutional mode of interfering with the slave system. The annexation of Texas was a distinct gain to the slave power, and the Mexican war was undertaken, said John Quincy Adams, in order that "the slave-holding power in the government shall be secured and riveted." The actual condition of the negro over whom such a strife was being waged differed materially indifferent parts of the South, and, under masters of different character, in the same locality. It had its side of cruelty, oppression and atrocity ; it had also its side of kindness on the part of master and of devotion on the part of slave. Its dark side has been made familiar to readers by such books as " Uncle Tom's Cabin," Dickens' "American Notes," and Edmund Kirk's "Among the Pines;" ... -ii 1 i 1 i i-i The Literature its brighter side has been charmingly depicted in the stories f Slavery of Thomas Nelson Page, Joel Chandler Harris, and Harry Edwards. On the great cotton plantations of Mississippi and Alabama the slave was often overtaxed and harshly treated ; in the domestic life of \ ir- ginia, on the other hand, he was as a rule most kindly used, and often a relation ol deep affection sprang up between him and his master. With this state of public feeling North and South, it was with increased bitterness and developed sectionalism that the subject of slavery in new states was again debated in the Congress of 1850. The Liberty party, which held that slavery might be abolished under the Constitution, had been merged in the Eree Soil party, whose cardinal principle was, "To secure free soil to a free people," and, while not interfering with slavery in existing states, to insist on its exclusion from territory so far free. The pro- posed admission of California was not affected by the Missouri Compromise. Its status as a future free or slave state was the turning point of the famous debates in the Senate of 1850, in which Webster, Calhoun, Douglas and Seward won fame — debates which have never been equaled in our history for eloquence and acerbity. It was in the course of these debates that Mr. Seward, while denying that the Constitution recognized property in man, struck out his famous dictum, " There is a higher law than the Conwtitu* 432 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT tion. " The end reached was a compromise which allowed California to settle for itself the question of slavery, forbade the slave trade in the Dis- „ „ ... trict of Columbia, but enacted a strict fugitive slave law. To The Fugitive ....... , Slave Law and the Abolitionists this fugitive slave law, sustained in its most Underground extreme measures by the courts in the famous — or as they called it, infamous — Dred Scott case, was as fuel to fire. They defied it in every possible way. The " Underground Railway" was the 'outcome of this defiance. By it a chain of secret stations was established, from one to the other of which the slave was guided at night until at last he reached the Canada border. The most used of these routes in the East was from Baltimore to New York, thence north through New England ; that most employed in the West was from Cincinnati to Detroit. It has been estimated that not fewer than thirty thousand slaves were thus assisted to freedom. Soon the struggle was changed to another part of the western territory, which was now growing so rapidly as to demand the formation of new states. The Kansas-Nebraska Bill introduced by Douglas was in effect the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, in that it left the question as to whether slavery should be carried into the new territories to the decision of the settlers themselves. As a consequence immigration was directed by both the anti- slavery and the pro-slavery parties to Kansas, each determined on obtain- ing a majority enabling it to control the proposed State Constitution. Then began a series of acts of violence which almost amounted to civil war. " Bleeding Kansas " became a phrase in almost every one's mouth. Border ruffians swaggered at the polls and attempted to drive out the ' n assisted emigrants sent to Kansas by the Abolition societies. Kansas & J The result of the election of the Legislature on its face made Kansas a slave state, but a great part of the people refused to accept this result ; and a convention was held at Topeka which resolved that Kansas should be free even if the laws formed by the Legislature should have to be "resisted to a bloody issue." Prominent among the armed supporters of free state ideas in Kansas 'was Captain John Brown, a man whose watchword was at all times action. "Talk," he said, "is a national institution; but it does no good for the John Brown at slave." He believed that slavery could only be coped with by Harper's armed force. His theory was that the way to make free men erry of slaves was for the slaves themselves to resist any attempt to coerce them by their masters. He was undoubtedly a fanatic in that he did not stop to measure probabilities or to take account of the written law. His attempt at Harper's Ferry was without reasonable hope, and as THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 433 he intended beginning of a great military movement was a ridiculous iasco. To attempt to make war upon the United States with twenty men vas utter madness, and if the hoped for rising- oi the slaves had taken place night have yielded horrible results. The execution of John Brown, that ollowed, was the logical consequence of his hopeless effort. But there was that about the man which none could call ridiculous. Rash ind unreasoning as his action seemed, he was still, even by his enemies, ecognized as a man oi unswerving conscience, of high ideals, of deep belief n the brotherhood of mankind. His offense against law and peace was hei-rfully paid for by his death and that of others near and dear to him. \lmost no one at that day could be found to applaud his plot, but the ncident had an effect on the minds of the people altogether out of propor- ion to its intrinsic character. More and more as time went on he became ecognized as a martyr in the cause of human liberty. Events of vast importance to the future of the negro in America now lurried fast upon each other's footsteps : the final settlement of the Kansas lispute by its becoming a tree state ; the formation and rapid growth of the Republican party ; the division of the Democratic party into northern and outhern factions; the election of Abraham Lincoln ; the secession of South Carolina, and, finally, the greatest civil war the world has known. Though hat war would never have been waged were it not for the negro, and though lis fate was inevitably involved in its result, it must be remembered that it vas not undertaken on his account. Before the struggle began Mr. Lincoln aid : " If there be those who would not save the Union unless they could it the same time save slavery, I do not agree with them. If there be those vho would not save the bunion unless they could at the same time destroy ilavery, I do not agree with them. My paramount object is to save the Jnion, and not either to destroy or to save slavery." And the northern >ress emphasized over and over again the fact that this was ''a white man's var." But the logic of events is inexorable. It seems amazing now- that Jnion generals should have been puzzled as to the question whether they >ught in duty to return runaway slaves to their masters. General Butler iettled the controversy by one happy phrase when he called the fugitives 'contraband of war." Soon it was deemed right to use these :ontrabands, to employ the new-coined word, as the South >e ~^ " vas using the negroes still in bondage, to aid in the non-fight- ng work of the army — on fortification, team-driving, cooking, and so on. From this it was but a step, though a step not taken without much per- turbation, to employ them as soldiers. At Yicksburg, at Fort Pillow, and n many another battle, the negro showed beyond dispute that he could 434 THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT ght for his liberty. No fiercer or braver charge was made in the war than chat upon the parapet of Fort Wagner by Colonel Shaw's gallant colored regiment, the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth. In a thousand ways the negro figures in the history of the war. In its literature he everywhere stands out picturesquely. He sought the flag with the greatest avidity for freedom ; flocking in crowds, old men and young, Behavior of women and children, sometimes with quaint odds and ends of Slaves During personal belongings, often empty-handed, always enthusiastic e ivi ar an j hopeful, almost always densely ignorant of the meaning of freedom and of self-support. But while the negro showed this avidity for liberty, his conduct toward his old masters was often generous, and almost never did he seize the opportunity to inflict vengeance for his pasf wrongs. The eloquent southern orator and writer, Henry W. Grady, said . " History has no parallel to the faith kept by the negro in the South during the war. Often five hundred negroes to a single white man, and yet through these dusky throngs the women and children walked in safety and the unprotected homes rested in peace. . . A thousand torches would have disbanded every southern army, but not one was lighted." It was with conditions, and only after great hesitation, that the final step of emancipating the slaves was taken by President Lincoln in Septem- ber, 1862. The proclamation was distinctly a war measure, but its recep- tion by the North and by the foreign powers and its immediate effect upon the contest were such that its expediency was at once recognized. There- after there was possible no question as to the personal freedom of the negro The Emancipa- m tne United States of America. With the Confederacy, tion Proclama- slavery went clown once and forever. In the so-called recon- struction period which followed, the negro suffered almost as much from the over-zeal of his political friends as from the prejudice of his old masters. A negro writer, who is a historian of his race, has declared that the government gave the negro the statute book when he should have had the spelling book ; that it placed him in the legislature when he ought to have been in the school house, and that, so to speak, " the heels were put where the brains ought to have been." A quarter of a century and more has passed since that turbulent period began, and if the negro has become less prominent as a political factor, all the more for that reason has he been advancing steadily though slowly in the requisites of citizenship. He has learned that he must, by force of circumstances, turn his attention, for the time at least, rather to educational, industrial and material progress than to political ambition. And the record of his advance on these lines is promising and hopeful. In THE NEGRO IN AMERICA AND THE SLAVERY CONFLICT 455 Mississippi alone, for instance, the negroes own one-fifth of the entire pro- perty in the state. In all, the negroes of the South to-day possess two hundred and fifty million dollars' worth of property. Everywhere through- out the South white men and negroes may be found working together. The promise of the negro race to-day is not so much in the develop- ment i f men of exceptional talent, such as Frederick Douglas or Senator Bruce, as in the general spread of intelligence and knowledge. p rogress f t h e The southern states have very generally given the negro Negroes of equal educational opportunities with the whites, while the e out eagerness of the race to learn is shown in the recently ascertained fact that while the colored population has increased only twenty-seven per cent, the enrollment in the colored schools has increased one hundred and thirty- seven percent. Fifty industrial schools are crowded by the colored youth of the South. Institutions of higher education, like the Atlanta Univer- sity, the Hampton Institute of Virginia, and Tuskegee College are doing admirable work in turning out hundreds of negroes fitted to educate their own race. Honors and scholarships have been taken by colored young men at Harvard, at Cornell, at Phillips Academy and at other northern schools and colleges of the highest rank. The fact that a young negro, Mr. Morgan, was, in 1890, elected by his classmates at Harvard as the class orator has a a special significance. Yet there is greater significance, as a _. .. ,_ 1 & & . hducational De- newspaper writes, in the fact that the equatorial telescope velopment of now used bv the Lawrence University oi Wisconsin was made the Negro Race entirely by colored pupils in the School of Mechanical Arts of Nashville, I'enn. In other words, the Afro-American is finding his place as an intelligent worker, a property owner, and an independent citizen, rather than as an agitator, a politician or a Ivocate. In religion, supersti- tion and effusive sentiment are giving way to stricter morality. In educa- tional matters, ambition for the high-sounding and the abstract is giving place to practical and industrial acquirements. It will be many years before the character of the negro, for centuries dwarfed and distorted by oppression and ignorance, reaches its normal growth, but that the race is at last upon tin- right path, and is being guided by the true principles cannot be doubted. CHAPTER XXX. Abraham Lincoln and the Work of Emancipation. AMONG the men who have filled the office of President of the United States two stand pre-eminent, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, both of them men not for the admiration of a century but of the ages, heroes of history whose names will live as the chief figures among; the makers of our nation. To the hand of Washington it owed its freedom, to that of Lincoln its preservation, and the name of as mg on ^ e preserver will occupy a niche in the temple of fame next and Lincoln l J r to that of the founder. But our feeling for Lincoln is different from that with which we regard the " Father of his Country." While we venerate the one, we love the other. Washington was a stately figure, too dignified for near approach. He commanded respect, admira- tion and loyalty ; but in addition to these Lincoln commands our affection, a feeling as for one very near and dear to us. The fame of Lincoln is increasing as the inner history of the great Strug-ode for the life of the nation becomes known. For almost two decades after that struggle had settled the permanence o'f our government, our vision was obscured by the near view of the pygmy giants who "strutted their brief hour upon the stage ;" our ears were filled with the loud claims of those who would magnify their own little part, and, knowing the facts concerning some one fraction of the contest, assumed from that knowledge to proclaim the principles which should have governed the whole. Time is dissipating the mist, and we are coming better to know the r ft.. ^" i . great man who had no pride of opinion, who was willing to and nis Critics ° i r » let Seward or Sumner or McClellan or any one imagine him- self to be the guiding spirit of the government, if he were willing to give that government the best service of which he was capable. We see more clearly the real greatness of the leader who was too slow for one great sec- tion of his people, and too fast for another, too conservative for those, too radical for these ; who refused to make the contest merely a war for the negro, yet who saw the end from the beginning, and led, not a section of his people, but the whole people, away from the Egyptian plagues of slavery and disunion, and brought them, united in sentiment and feeling, 436 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 437 to the borders of the promised land. We are coming to appreciate that the " Father Abraham " who in thai Red Sea passage of fraternal strife was ready to listen to every tale of sorrow, and who wanted it said that he "always plucked a thistle and planted a flower when he thought a flower would grow," was not only in this sense the father of his people : but that he was a truly great statesman, who, within ... , ' 1 J *» of Lincoln the limits of human knowledge and human strength, guided tin affairs of state with a wisdom, a patience, a courage which belittle aii praise, and make him seem indeed a man divinely raised up, not only to set the captive free, but in order that "government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth." It h not our purpose to tell the story of Lincoln's boyhood his days of penury in the miserable frontier cabins of his father in Kentucky and Indiana, his struggles to obtain an education, his pitiful necessity of writing his school exercises with charcoal on the hack of a wooden shovel, his etlorts to make a livelihood when he had become a tall and ungainly, but strong and vigorous, youth, his work at farming, rail-splitting, clerking, boating, and in other occupations. A journey on a flat-boat to New Lincoln's First Orleans gave him his first acquaintance with the institution of Experience slavery, with which he: was thereafter to have so much to do. Mere he witnessed a slave auction. The scene was one that made a deep and abiding impression on his sympathetic mind, and he is said to have declared to his companion, "If 1 ever get a chance to hit that institution, ni liit it hard." Whether this is legend or fact, it is certain that he did get a chance to hit it, and did "hit it hard." Difficult as it was to obtain an education on the rude frontier and in tile extreme poverty in which Lincoln was reared, he succeeded by persistent reading- and study in making himself the one man of learning among his farming fellows, and one who was not long content with the occupations of rail-splitting, flat-boating, or even that of keeping country store, which he tried without success. He was too devoted to his books to attend very care- fully to his business, which left him seriously in debt, and he soon chose the law as his vocation, supporting himself meanwhile by serving as land sur- veyor in the neighboring district. Lincoln's political career began in 1834, when his neighbors, who admired him for his learning and ability, elected him to represent them in the Illinois legislature. His knowledge was only one of the elements of his popularity. He had acquired a reputation as a teller of quaint and humorous stories ; he was a champion wrestler, and could light well if forced to ; and he was beginning to make his mark as a ready and able orator. In the legislature 438 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION he became prominent enough to gain twice the nomination of his party for speaker. His principal service there was to advocate a system of public improvements, whose chief result was to plunge Illinois deeply in the Illinois j n j^t. A significant act of his at this early day in his careei Legislature .... . . . was to join with a single colleague m a written protest against the passage of resolutions in favor of slavery. The signers based their action on their belief that "the institution of slavery is founded on both injustice and bad policy." It needed no little moral courage to make such a protest in 1837 in a community largely of southern origin, but moral courage was a possession of which Lincoln had an abundant store. In the meantime Lincoln had been admitted to the bar, and in 1837 he removed to Springfield, where he formed a partnership with an attorney of established reputation. He became a successful lawyer, not so much by his knowledge of law, for this was never great, as by his ability as an advocate, and by reason of his sterling integrity. He would not be a party to misrepre- sentation, and more than once refused to take cases which Lincoln as a involved such a result. He even was known to abandon a case Lawyer , , , which brought him unexpectedly into this attitude, making in his first case before the United States Circuit Court the unusual state- ment that he had not been able to find any authorities supporting his side of the case, but had found several favoring the opposite, which he proceeded to quote. The very appearance ot such an attorney in any case must have gone far to win the jury ; and, when deeply stirred, the power of his oratory, and the invincible logic of his argument, made him a most formidable opponent. "Yes," he was overheard to say to a would-be client, "we can doubtless gain your case for you ; we can set a whole neighborhood at loggerheads ; we can distress a widowed mother and her six fatherless children, and thereby get for you the six hundred dollars to which you seem to have a legal claim, but which rightfully belongs, it appears to me, as much to the woman and her children as it does to you. You must remember that some things legally right are not morally right. We shall not take your case, but will give you a little advice for which we will charge you nothing. You seem to be a sprightly, energetic man ; we would advise you to try your hand at making six hundred dollars in some other way." In the United ^ n i S46 he accepted a nomination to Congress and was states Con- triumphantly elected, being the only Whig among the seven representatives from his state. As a member of the House his voice was always given on the side of human freedom, he voting in favor of considering the petitions for the abolition of slavery and supporting LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATE 439 the doctrines of the Wilmot proviso, which opposed the extension of slavery to the territory acquired from Mexico. As yet Lincoln had not made a strikii ire as a legislator. He was admired by those about him for his sterling honesty and integrity, but his name: was hardly known in the country at large, and there was no indication that he would ever occupy a prominent position in the politics oi the nation. li was the threatened repeal of the Missouri Compromise, in 1854, an act which would open the western territory to the admission of slavery, that first fairly wakened him up and laid the foundation of his remarkable career. The dangerous question which Henry Clay had set aside for years, but which was now brought forward again, absorbed his attention, and he grew constantly more bold and powerful in his denunciation of the encroach- ments of the slave power. He became, therefore, the natural champion of his party in the campaigns in which Senator Douglas undertook to defend before the people of his state his advocacy of "squatter sovereignty," or the right of the people of each territory to decide whether it should be ad- mitted as a slave or a free state, and of the Kansas-Nebraska bill, by which the "Missouri Compromise" was repealed. The first great battle between these two giants of debate took pla the Sta'te Fair at Springfield, in October, 1854. Douglas made a great speech to an unprecedented concourse of people, and was the The Great Lin- lion of the hour. The next day Lincoln replied, and his coin and u<>u- effort was such as to surprise both his friends and his oppo- nents. It was probably the first occasion in which he reached his full power. In the words of a friendly editor: "The Nebraska bill was [Shivered, and like a tree of the forest was torn and rent asunder by the hot bolts of truth. ... At the conclusion of this speech ever)' man and child felt that it was unanswerable." But it was the campaign of 1S58 that made Lincoln famous. In this contest he Inst fully displayed his powers as an orator and logician, and won the reputation that made him President. Douglas, his opponent, was im- mensely popular in the West. His advocacy of territorial expansion appealed to tiie patriotism of the young and ardent; his doctrine of popular sovereignty was well calculated to mislead shallow thinkers; and his power in debate was so great that he became widely known as the " Little Giant." But he found a worthy champion of the opposite in Abraham Lincoln, who riddled and ventilated many of his specious arguments, and s .1 in inducing him to make a statement that proved fatal to his hopes of the Presidency. e 440 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION When Lincoln proposed to press upon his opponent the question whether there were lawful means by which slavery could be excluded from a territory before its admission as a state, his friends suggested that I Douglas would reply that slavery could not exist unless it was Douglas's Fatal jggjj-gj by t h e people, and unless protected by territorial legislation, and that this answer would be sufficiently satis- factory to insure his re-election. But Lincoln replied, " I am after larger j game. If Douglas so answers, he can never be President, and the battle of] i860 is worth a hundred of this." Both predictions were verified. Th people of the South might have forgiven Douglas his opposition to the Lecompton Constitution of Kansas, but they could not forgive the promulga- tion of a doctrine which, in spite of the Dred Scott decision (a Supreme Court decision to the effect that a master had the right to take his slave into any state and hold him there as "property"), would keep slavery out of a territory ; and so, although Douglas was elected and Lincoln defeated, the Democracy was divided, and it was impossible for Douglas to command southern votes for the presidency. The campaign had been opened with a speech by Lincoln which startled the country by its boldness and its power. It was delivered at the Repub- lican convention which nominated him for Senator, and had been pre- viously submitted to his confidential advisers. They strenuously opposed the introduction of its opening sentences. He was warned that they would be fatal to his election, and, in the existing state of public feeling, might permanently destroy his political prospects. Lincoln could Lincoln Takes t ^ move d. " It is true" said he, " and I will deliver it as His Stand ' written. I would rather be defeated with these expressions in my speech held up and discussed before the people than be victorious without them." The paragraph gave to the country a statement of the problem as terse and vigorous and even more complete than Seward's " irre- pressible conflict," and as startling as Sumner's proposition that "freedom was national, slavery sectional." " A house divided against itself," said Lincoln, " cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure per- manently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dis- solved ; I do not expect the house to fall ; but I expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the farther spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the states, — old as well as new, North as well as South." LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 441 Never had the issues of a political campaign seemed more momentous; r was one more ably contested. The triumph of the doctrine of "popular sovereignty," in the Kansas-Nebraska bill, had opened the terri- tories to slavery, while it professed to leave the question to be decided by the people. To the question whether the people of a territory could exclude slavery Douglas had answered, "That is a question for the courts to decide," but the Dred Scott decision, practically holding that the Federal Constitution guaranteed the right to hold The " cha " 1 P |0 j; & & of l-reedom slaves in the territories, seemed to make the pro-slavery cause triumphant. The course of Douglas regarding the Lecompton Constitu- tion, however, had made it possible for his friends to describe him as "the true champion of freedom," while Lincoln continually exposed, with merci- less force, the illogical position of his adversary, and his complete lack of jolitical morality. Douglas claimed that the doctrine of popular sovereignty "originated vhen God made man and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to thoose upon his own responsibility." But Lincoln declared with great solemnity : " No; God did not pla< i and evil before man, telling him :o take his choice. On the contrary, God did tell him that there was one tree of the fruit of which he should not eat. upon pain of death." The question was to him one of right, a high question of morality, and only lpon such a question could he ever be fully roused. "Slavery is wrong," ,vas the keynote of his speeches. But he did not take the position of the ibolitionists. He even admitted that the South was entitled, under the Constitution, to a national fugitive slave law, though his soul revolted at the law which was then in force. His position, as already cited, was that jf the Republican party. He would limit the extension of Lj nco | n - s views slavery, and place it in such a position as would insure its on the slavery jltimate extinction. It was a moderate course, viewed from yues lor this distance of time, but in the face of a dominant, arrogant, irascible pro- slavery sentiment it seemed radical in the extreme, calculated, indeed, to :ulfill a threat he had made to the governor of the state. He had been ittempting to secure the release of a young negro from Springfield who was ivrongfully detained in New Orleans, and who was in danger of being sold :or prison expenses. Moved to the depths of his being by the refusal of the official to interfere, Lincoln exclaimed : " By God, governor, I'll make the -round of this country too hot for the foot of a slave' Douglas was re-elected. Lincoln had hardly anticipated a different result, and he had nothing of the feeling of defeat. On the contrarv, he felt that the corner-stone of victory had been laid. He had said of his 35 442 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION opening speech : "If I had to draw a pen across my record, and erase my whole life from sight, and I had one poor gift or choice left as to what I should choose to save from the wreck, I should choose that speech, and leave it to the world unerased." The oreat debate had made Lincoln famous. In Illinois his name was a household word. His stand for the liberty of the slave was on the lips of the advocates of human freedom through all the country. Deep and wide- The Cooper spread interest was felt in the East for this prairie orator, and Institute when, in i860, he appeared by invitation to deliver an address Speech j n t j le c 00 p er Institute, of New York, he was welcomed by an audience of the mental calibre of those who of old gathered to hear Clay and Webster speak. It was a deeply surprised audience. They expected to be treated to something of the freshness, but much of the shallowness, of the frontier region, and listened with astonishment and admiration to the dignified, clear, and luminous oration of the prairie statesman. It is said that those who afterwards published the speech as a campaign document were three weeks in verifying its historical and other statements, so deep and abundant was the learning it displayed. He had taken the East by storm. He was invited to speak in many places in New England, and everywhere met with the most flattering reception, which surprised almost as much as it delighted hii-i. It astonished him to hear that the Professor of Rhetoric of Yale College took notes of his speech and lectured upon them to his class, and followed him to Meriden the next evening to hear him again for the same purpose. An intelligent hearer spoke to him of the remarkable " clearness of your \T° ur ., ,n . statements, the unanswerable style of your reasoning, and New England . \ J & especially your illustrations, which are romance and pathos, fun and logic, all welded together." Perhaps his style could not be better described. He himself said that it used to anger him, when a child, to hear statements which he could not understand, and he was thus led to form the habit of turning over a thought until it was in language any boy could comprehend. It is not necessary to tell in detail what followed. Lincoln had attained the high eminence of being considered as a suitable candidate for President, and when the Republican Convention of i860 met in Chicago, he found him- self looked upon as the man for the West. Seward was a prominent candi- date, but his candidacy sank before that of the choice of the westerners, who were roused to a frenzy of enthusiasm when some of the rails which Lincoln had split were borne into the hall. He was nominated on the third ballot. LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 443 amid the wildest acclamations. In the campaign that followed Lincoln and Hamlin were the triumphant candidates, winning their scats by a majority of fifty-seven in the electoral college. The poor rail-splitter of Illinois had lifted himself, by pure force of genius, to be President of the The n &iim United States of America. From that time forward the splitter .Made life of Abraham Lincoln is the history of the great Civil Presld, -" nt War. His task was such as few men had ever faced before. The mighty republic of the West, the most promising experiment in self-government by the people that the world had ever known, seemed about to end in failure. No man did more to save it from destruction and start it on its future :ourse of greatness and renown than this western prodigy of genius and rectitude. Mr. Lincoln called to his cabinet the ablest men of his party, two of whom, Seward and Chase, had been his competitors for the nomination, and :he new administration devoted itsell to the work of saving the Union. Every means was tried to prevent the secession of the border states, and :he President delayed until Fort Sumter had been fired upon before he hi active measures for the suppression of the rebellion and called for seventy-five thousand volunteers. The gre.tt question, from the start, was the treatment of the negro. rhe advanced anti-slavery men demanded decisive action, and could not jnderstand that success depended absolutely upon the administration com- panding the support of the whole people. And so Mr. Lincoln incurred she displeasure and lost the confidence of some of those who had been his leartiest support* rs, by keeping the negro in the background and making :he preservation of the Union the great end for which he strove. He -epeatedly declared that, if he could do so, he would preserve the Union vitli slavery, and further said, "I could not feel that, to the The (ireat aest of my ability, 1 had even tried to preserve the Constitu- Question of :ion, if, to save slavery or for any minor matter, 1 should aermit the wreck of government, country and Constitution, all together." Dnly when it became evident that the North was in accord with him in his detestation of slavery did the President venture to strike the blow which was to bring that perilous system to an end. In the dark days of 1862, when the reverses of the Union arms cast a doom over the North, and European governments were seriously consider- ing the proprieiv of recognizing the Confederacy, it seemed to Mr. Lincoln :hat the time had come, that the North was prepared to support a radical Tieasure, and that emancipation would not only weaken the South at home, iut would make it impossible for any European government to take the 444 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION attitude toward slavery which would be involved in recognizing the Con- federacy. Action was delayed until a favorable moment, and after the victory of Antietam the President called his cabinet together and announced The Proclama- tnat ne was aDOut to issue the Proclamation of Emancipation. tion of Eman- It was a solemn moment. The President had made a vow — - " I promised my God," were his words — that if the tide of invasion should be mercifully arrested, he would set the negro free. The nnal proclamation, issued three months later, fitly closes with an appeal: which indicates the devout spirit in which the deed was done : " And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Consti- tution upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of man- kind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God." The question of slavery was only one of the many with which Lincoln had to contend. Questions of foreign policy, of finance, of the conduct of the war, of a dozen different kinds pressed upon him for solution, while dissensions in his cabinet and incompetence in the army made his task any- thing but a pleasant one. His personal advisers, Stanton, Seward, Chase, and others, were strong and able men, but above them was a stronger man, who held firmly in his own hands the reins of government, and would not; yield them to any of his ambitious subordinates, nor change his fixed policy at the bidding of irresponsible critics and fault-finders. Upon what Lincoln called " the plain people" — the mass of his country- men — he could always depend, because he, more than any other political Lincoln and leader in our history, understood them. Sumner, matchless the " Plain advocate of liberty as he was, distrusted the President, and was desirous of getting the power out of his hands into stronger and safer ones. But suddenly the great Massachusetts senator awoke to the fact that he could not command the support of his own con- stituency, and found it necessary to issue an interview declaring himself not an opponent, but a supporter, of Lincoln. The President's grasp of ques- tions of state policy was, indeed, stronger than that of any of his advisers. The important dispatch to our minister in England, in May, 1861, outlining the course to be pursued towards that power, has been published in its original draft, showing the work of the Secretary of State and President Lincoln's alterations. Of this publication the editor of the An Able , r , . A/r ... ., Diplomatist North American Review says: " ivlany military men, who nave had access to Lincoln's papers, have classed him as the best general of the war. This paper will go far toward establishing his reputa- tion as its ablest diplomatist." It would be impossible for any intelligent! person to study the paper thus published, the omissions, the alterations, ABRAH \\! LIN( OLN (i ULYSSES MM I'^i IN GRAN I i r EDMUND LEI ci 7-1:7 WILLI AM T >Hl KM \\ LINi. '( '/ X AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION 447 the substitutions, without acknowledging that they were the work of 1 master mind, and that the raw backwoodsman, not three months in office, was the peer of any statesman with whom he might find it necessary to :ope. He was entirely willing to grant to his ries and to his generals the greatest liberty of action ; he was ready to listen to any one, and to accept advice even from hostile critics; and Ids readiness made them think, sometimes, that he had little mental power of his own, and brought upon him the charge of weakness ; but, as the facts have become more fully known, it has grown more and more evident that he was not only the "1 general" and the "ablest diplomatist," but the greatest man among all the great men whom that era of trial brought to the rescue of our country. And when the end came, after four years of desperate conflict; when Lee had surrendered and the work of saving the Union seemed complete ; when the liberator was made, by the assassin's hand, the martyr di • , , , 1 , . 1 The Assasina- lat great cause which lie had earned to its glorious tormina- of Lincoln tion, a depth of pathos was added to our memory of America's noblest man, insuring him a fame that was worth dying for, that crown of human sympathy which lends glory to martyrdom. The story of the end need hardly be told. On the evening of April 14, 1S65, Abraham Lincoln was shot by a half-crazed sympathizer with the South, John Wilkes Booth. The President hail gone, by special imitation, to witness a play at Ford's Theatre, and the assassin had no difficulty in gaining entrance to the box, committing the dreadful d(t>^\, and leaping to the stage to make his escape. The story of his pursuit and death while ling arrest is familiar to us all. Mr. Lincoln lingered till the morning, when the little group of friends and relatives, with members of tin cabinet, stood with breaking hearts about the death-bed. Sorrow more deep and universal cannot be imagined than envelo our land on that 15th of April. Throughout the country every household felt the loss as of one of themselves. The honored remains lay for a few days iii state at Washington, and then began the funeral journey, taking in backward course almost the route which had been followed . , , , , , , 1 i> ■ 1 The Grief of the four years before, when the newly-elected President wont to p eop i e assume his burdens "( his high office. Such a pilgrimage of sorrow had never been witnessed by our people. It was followed by the sympathy of the whole world until the loved remains were laid in the tomb at Springfield, Illinois. Over the door of the state house, in the city of his home, where his old neighbors took their last farewell, were these lines : " He left us borne up by our prayers ; He returns embalmed in our tears " 448 LINCOLN AND THE WORK OF EMANCIPATION Abraham Lincoln was in every way a remarkable man. Towering above his fellows, six feet four inches in height, his giant figure, with its inclination to stoop, of itself attracted attention. While possessed of gigantic strength, he was diffident and modest in the extreme. The expres- sion of his face was sad, and that sadness deepened as the war dragged on and causes for national depression increased. Melancholy was hereditary a Man of with him, and it is doubtful if his mind was ever free from a Melancholy degree of mental dejection. On certain occasions he was almost overwhelmed by it. Yet with all this he was one of the readiest inventors and gatherers of amusing- stories, which were inimit- able as told by him. He opened the cabinet meeting in which he announced his purpose to issue the Emancipation Proclamation by reading to his dig- nified associates a chapter from Artemus Ward. His jokes were usually for a purpose. He settled more than one weighty question by the wit of a homely "yarn," that told better than hours of argument would have done. A signal illustration of his method is the telling aphorism by which he once settled the question of changing the generals in command : "It is a bad plan to swap horses crossing a stream." His gift of expression was only equaled by the clearness and firmness of his grasp upon the truths which he desired to convey ; and the beauty of his words, upon many occasions, is only matched by the goodness and purity of the soul from which they sprung. His Gettysburg speech will be remembered as long as the story of the battle for freedom shall be told ; and of his second inaugural it has been said: "This was like a sacred poem. No American President had ever spoken words like these to the American people. America never had a President who found such words in the depth of his heart." The following were its closing words, and with them we may fitly close this imperfect sketch : " Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet if God wills that it continue until all The Great tne wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years Gettysburg of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword ; as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, ' The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in ; to bind up the nation's wounds ; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan ; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations." CHAPTER XXXI. Grant and Lee and the Civil War. IN several of the preceding- chapters the causes which led the United States into its great fratricidal war have been given. In the present we propose to deal with the war itself; not to describe it in detail, — :hat belongs to general history, — but to speak of its great soldiers and its eading events, which form the chosen topics of this work. Of the states- pen brought into prominence by the war, President Lincoln was the chief, md we have given an account of his life. Of its famous The Great ioldiers two stand pre-eminent, Ulysses S. Grant and Robert Leaders of the E. Lee, and around the careers of these two men the whole Clvl ar itory of the war revolves. They did not stand alone; there were others vho played leading parts, — Thomas, Sherman, Sheridan, McClellan and >thers, on the Union side ; Jackson, Johnston and others on the Con- ederate, — but this is not a work of biographical sketches, and our main ittention must be centred upon the two leading figures in the war, the night)' opponents who linked arms in the desperate struggle from the Wilderness to Appomattox. Grant was a modest and retiring man. While others were strenuously mshing their claims to command, he, an experienced soldier of the Mexican var, held back and was thrust aside by the crowd of enterprising incompe- ents, doing anything that was offered him, the coming Napoleon of the war )erforming services suitable for a drill sergeant. But gradually men of experi- ence in war began to find their appropriate places, and in August, 1861, Grant vas made brigadier-general and given command of a district ... & , & ._. . ° ,• , u Orant Takes ncluding southeast Missouri and western Kentucky. tie command ;oon set out to meet the Confederates, and found them at Uelmont, Missouri, where he drove them back in a hard four hours' fight. ["hen they were reinforced and advanced in such strength that Grant and lis men were in danger of being cut off from the boats in which they had :ome. " We are surrounded," cried the men, in some alarm. " Well, then," said Grant, " we must cut our way out, as we cut our vay in," and they did. It was the only retreat in Grant's career. 449 450 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR Meanwhile, in the East, the battle of Bull Run had been fought, to the dismay of the Union side, the triumph of the Confederate. There fol- lowed an autumn and winter of weary waiting, which severely tried the patience of North and South alike, both sides being eager for something to be done. Early in the following year something was done, but not in the region where the people looked for it. While attention was chiefly concen- trated upon the Potomac, where McClellan was organizing and drilling that splendid army which another and a greater commander was to lead to final victory ; while the only response to the people's urgent call, " On to Rich- mond!" was the daily report, "All quiet on the Potomac;" All Quiet on the ~ , , . l . n ... , . Potomac Lxrant, an obscure and almost unknown soldier, was pushing forward against Forts Henry and Donelson, eleven miles apart, on the Tennessee and the Cumberland, near where these rivers cross the line dividing Kentucky and Tennessee. He had obtained from his commander, Halleck, a reluctant consent to his plan for attacking these important posts with a land force, co-operating at the same time with a fleet of gunboats under Commodore Foote. It was the month of February and bitterly cold. Amid sleet and snow the men pushed along the roads, arriving at Fort Henry just after it had been captured, as the result of a severe bombardment, by the gunboats. Grant immediately turned his attention to Fort Donelson, which had been reinforced by a large part of the garrison that had escaped from Fort Henry. It was held by Generals Buckner, Floyd and Pillow with 20,000 men. For three days a fierce attack was kept up. Buckner, who had been at West Point with Grant, and doubtless knew that he was, as his wife designated him, " a very obstinate man," sent on the morning of the fourth day, under a flag of truce, to ask what terms of surrender would be granted. In reply Grant sent The Surrender tnat brief, stern message which thrilled throughout the North, of Fort stirring the blood in every loyal heart: "No terms but un- conditional and immediate surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works." Buckner protested against the terms ; but he was obliged to accept them and to surrender unconditionally. With Fort Donelson were surren- dered 15,000 men, 3,000 horses, sixty-five cannon, and a great quantity of small arms and military stores. It was the first victory for the North, and the whole country was electrified. Grant's reply to Buckner became a household word, and the people of the North delighted to call him, '' Un- conditional Surrender Grant." He was made a major-general of volunteers, his commission bearing date of February 16, 1862, the day of the surrender of Fort Donelson. GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 451 On April 6th, less than two months afterwards, another of Grant's rreat battles was fought, at Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing: in _ L _ > => . . The Terrible Mississippi. In this battle Sherman w int's chief lieuten- struggieat int, and tlie two men tested each i qualities in the Pittsburg greatest trial to which either had as yet been exposed. The Kittle was one of the turning-points of the war. The Confederates, 50,000 trong, under Albert Sidney fohnston, one of their best generals, attacked he Union force of 40,000 men at Shiloh Church. All day on Sunday the tattle raged. The brave fohnston was killed; but the Union forces were Iriven back, and at night their lines were a mile in the rear of their position n the morning. Grant came into his headquarters' tent that evening, when, o any but the bravest and most sanguine, the battle seemed lost, and said : 'Well, it was tough work to-day, but we will beat them out of their boots o-morrow." "\\iien his staff and the generals present heard this," writes >ne of his officers, "they were as fully persuaded of the result of the mor- ■ow's battle as when the victory had actually been achieved." The next day, after dreadful fighting, the tide turned in favor of the Union forces, which had been strongly reinforced by General Buell during :he night. In the afternoon Grant himself led a charge against the Con- federate lines, under which they broke and were driven back. Night found the Union arm}- in possession of the field, after one of the severest battles af the war. A man who wins victories is apt to become a fair foil for criticism from :hose who lose them. "Grant is a drunkard," said his opponents. Hiis ;harge came to the President's ears. "Grant drinks t'> () much whisky,'' jome fault-finder said. Lincoln replied, with his dry humor. " I wish you ivould tell me what brand of whisky General Grant uses; I should like to send some of it to our other generals." It would doubtless have been better if this general, who drank a light- ing brand of whisky, had been brought to the Last, where the war was proceeding in a manner tar from satisfactory. For six days armies of bee and McClellan met in desperate bank' J? before Richmond, the Union army being driven from all its positions, and forced to seek a new ' m the Janus River. This disaster was followed by a second conflict at Bull Run, which ended in one of the mosl sanguinary defeats of the Union side during the war. I repul in a measure retrieved by McClellan at Antietam, yet affairs did not look very bright for the Union cause, and in the winter of [862—63 there was much depression in the North. The terrible defeats at Fred- ericksburg and Chancellorsville added to the anxiety of the people, and 45 2 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR the necessity of some signal success seemed urgent. Such a success came in double measure in the following summer, at Gettysburg and at Vicksburg. On a high bluff on the. east bank of the Mississippi River, which pursues a winding course through its fertile valley, stands the town of Vicksburg. From this point a railroad ran to the eastward, and from the opposite shore another ran westward through the rich, level country of Louisiana. The town was strongly fortified, and from its elevation it com- manded the river in both directions. So long as it was held Th e Vicksburg by the Confederate armies, the Mississippi could not be opened to navigation ; and the line of railroad running east and west kept communication open between the western and eastern parts of the Confederacy. How to capture Vicksburg was a great problem ; but it was one which General Grant determined should be solved. For eight months he worked at this problem. He formed plan after plan, only to be forced to abandon them. Sherman made a direct attack at the only place where a landing was practicable, and failed. Weeks were spent in cutting a canal across the neck of a peninsula formed by a great bend in the river opposite Vicksburg, so as to bring the gunboats through without their passing under the fire of the batteries ; but a flood destroyed the work. Meanwhile great numbers of the troops were ill with malaria or other diseases, and many died. There was much clamor at Washington to have Grant removed, but the President refused. He had faith in Grant, and determined to give him time to work out the great problem, — how to get below and in the rear of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River. This was at last accomplished. On a dark night the gunboats were successfully run past the batteries, although every one of them was more or less damaged by the guns. The troops were marched across the penin- sula, and then taken down the river on the side opposite the town ; and on April 30th the whole force was landed on the Mississippi side, on high ground, and at a point where it could reach the enemy. The railroad running east from Vicksburg connected that city with Jackson, the state capital, which was an important railway assing 1 centre, and from which Vicksburg- was supplied. Grant made Batteries . . his movements with great rapidity. He fought in quick suc- cession a series of battles by which Jackson and several other towns were captured ; then, turning westward, he attacked the forces of Pemberton, drove him back into Vicksburg, cut off his supplies, and laid siege to the place. The eyes of the whole nation were now centred on Vicksburg. More than two hundred guns were brought to bear upon the place, besides the GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 453 mtteries of the gunboats. In default of mortars, guns were improvised ))• 1 loring out tough logs, strongly bound with iron bands, which did good ser- 'ice. The people of Vicksburg took shelter in cellars and cavi o escape the shot and shell. Food of all kinds became very vi ksb* carce ; flour was sold at five dollars a pound, molasses at welve dollars a gallon. The endurance and devotion of the inhabitants vere wonderful. But the siege was so rigidly and relentlessly maintained hat there could be only one end. On July 3d, at ten o'clock, flags of truce vere displayed on the works, and General Pemberton sent a message to jrant asking for an armistice, and proposing that commissioners should >e appointed to arrange terms of capitulation. On the afternoon of the same day. Grant and Pemberton met under m oak between the lines of the two armies and arranged the terms of sur- endcr. It took three hours for the Confederate army to march out and tack their arms. There were surrendered 31,000 men, 250 cannon, and a rreat quantity of arms and munitions of war. But the moral advantage to he Union cause was far beyond any material gain. The fall of Vicksburg :arried with it that of Port Hudson, a few miles below, which surrendered o Banks a few days later ; and at last the great river was open from St. ^ouis to the sea. The news of this great victory came to the North on the same day vith that of Gettysburg, July 4. 1863. The rejoicing over The Great Vic- he yreat triumph is indescribable. A heavy load was lifted tories and rom the minds of the President and his cabinet. The North ook heart, ami n-solved again to prosecute the war with energy. The lame of Grant was on every tongue. It was everywhere felt that he was ;he foremost man of the campaign. He was at once made a major-general n the regular army, and a gold medal was awarded him by Congress. Grant's next striking victory was at Chattanooga, an important railway :entre in the valley of tin; Tennessee River, near where it enters Alabama, south of the town the slope of Lookout Mountain rises to a height of 5000 feet above sea-level. Two miles to the east rises Missionary Ridgi 500 feet high. Both Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge were )ccupied by the army of General Bragg, and his commanding position, strengthened by fortifications, was considered by him impregnable. The disastrous battle of Chickamauga, in September, 1863, had left :he Union armies in East Tennessee in a perilous situation, chickamauga General Thomas, in Chattanooga, was hemmed in by the Con- and Chat- federate forces, his line of supplies was endangered, and his men and horses were almost starving. The army was on quarter rations 454 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR Ammunition was almost exhausted, and the troops were short of clothing. Thousands of army mules, worn out and starved, lay dead along the miry roads. Chattanooga, occupied by the Union army, was too strongly fortified for Bragg to take by storm, but every day shells from his batteries upon the heights were thrown into the town. This was the situation when Grant, stiff and sore from a recent accident, arrived at Nashville, on his way to direct the campaign in East Tennessee. " Hold Chattanooga at all hazards. I will be there as soon as possible,'' he telegraphed from Nashville to General Thomas. " We will hold the town until we starve," was the brave reply. Grant's movements were rapid and decisive. He ordered the troops to be concentrated at Chattanooga; he fought a battle at Wauhatchie, in Lookout Valley, which broke Bragg's hold on the river below Chattanooga and shortened the Union line of supplies; and by his prompt and vigorous preparation for effective action he soon had his troops lifted out of the demoralized condition in which they had sunk after the defeat of Chicka- mauga. One month after his arrival were fought the memorable battles of Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, by which the Confederate troops Lookout Mount- were driven out of Tennessee, their hold on the country was ain and Mis- broken up, and a large number of prisoners and guns were cap- sionary Ridge turec |. Nothing in the history of war is more inspiring than the impetuous bravery with which the Union troops fought their way up the steep mountain sides, bristling with cannon, and drove the Confederate troops out of their works at the point of the bayonet. An officer of Gen- eral Bragg's staff afterward declared that they considered their position perfectly impregnable, and that when they saw the Union troops, after cap- turing their rifle-pits at the base, coming up the craggy mountain toward their headquarters, they could scarcely credit their eyes, and thought that every man of them must be drunk. History has no parallel for sublimity and picturesqueness of effect, while the consequences, which were the division of the Confederacy in the East, were inestimable. After Grant's success in Tennessee, the popular demand that he should be put at the head of all the armies became irresistible. In Virginia the magnificent Army of the Potomac, after two years of fighting, Ueutenant- nac * been barely able to turn back from the North the tide of General and Confederate invasion, and was apparently as far as ever from Commander- captur i ns: Richmond. In the West, on the other hand, in-Chief f & ' Grant's armies had won victory after victory, had driven the opposing forces out of Kentucky and Tennessee, had taken Vicksburg, opened up the Mississippi, and divided the Confederacy in both the West GENERAL LEE'S INVASION OF THE NORTH f*be Confederate army under General Lee twice invaded the North. The first invasion was brought to a disastrous end by the Battle of Antic tam, September 17. 1S62. The second invasion ended with greater disaster at Gettysburg, July 1-3, 1863. Gettysburg was the ureaiest and Antietam the bloodiest battles « 1 the war 5 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 457 and the East. In response to the call for Grant, Congress revived the grade of lieutenant-general, which had been held by only one commander, r>cott, since the time of Washington ; and the hero of Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga was nominated to this rank by the President, confirmed by the Senate, and placed in command of all the armies of the nation. The relief of President Lincoln at having such a man in command was very great. " Grant is the first general I've had," he remarked to a friend. 'You know how it has been with all the rest. As soon as I put a man in command of the army, he would come to me with a plan, and about as much as say, 'Now, I don't believe I can do it, but if you sav so I'll try it on,' ami so put the responsibility of success or failure upon me. They all wanted me to be the general. Now, it isn't so with Giant. He hasn't told me what his plans are. I don't know, and I don't want to know. I am glad to find a man who can go ahead without me." Never were the persistent courage, the determined purpose, which formed the foundation of Grant's character, more clearly brought out than in the Vir- ginia campaign ol 1864, in which he commanded ; and never The Virginia were the;) - more needed. Well did he know that no single Campain of triumph, however brilliant, would suffice. He saw plainly that ' 4 ~ 5 nothing but "hammering away" would avail. The stone wall of the Con- federacy had too broad and firm a base to be suddenly overturned ; it had to be slowly reduced to powder. During the anxious days which followed the battle of the Wilderness, Frank B. Carpenter, the artist, relates that he asked President Lincoln, " How does Grant impress you as compared with other general " The great thing about him," said the President, " is cool persistency of purpose. He is not easily excited, and he has the grip of a bull-dog. When he once gets his teeth in, nothing can shake him off." His great opponent, Lee, saw and felt the same quality. When, after days of indecisive battle, the fighting in the Wilderness came to a pause, it was believed in the Confederate lines that the Union troops were falling back. General Gordon said to Lee, — " I think there is no doubt that Grant is retreating." The Confederate chief knew better. He shook his head. "You are mistaken," he replied earnestly, — "quite mistaken. Grant is not retreating ; he is not a retreating man." The battles of Spottsylvania and North Anna followed, and then came the disastrous affair at Cold Harbor. Then Grant changed his base to lames river and attacked Petersburg. Slowly but surely the Union lines closed in. " Falling back " on the Union side had gone out of fashion. South or 458 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR North, all could see that now a steady resistless force was back of the Union armies, pushing them ever on toward Richmond. Grant's losses in the final campaign were heavy, but Lee's slender resources were wrecked in a much more serious proportion ; and for the Confederates no recruiting was possible. Their dead, who lay so thickly beneath the fields, were the children of the soil, and there were none to replace them. In some cases whole families were destroyed ; but the sur- vivors still fought on. In the Confederate lines around „. ... ° Petersburg- there was often absolute destitution. An officer The War » who was there testified, shortly after the end of the struggle, that every cat and dog for miles around had been caught and eaten. Grant was pressing onward ; Sherman's march through Georgia and the Carolinas had proved that the Confederacy was an egg-shell ; Sheridan's splendid cavalry was ever hovering round the last defenders of the bars and stripes. Grant saw that all was over, and on April 7, J 865, he wrote that memorable letter calling upon Lee to surrender and bring the war to an end. Lee, whose army was cut off beyond possibility of escape, was obliged to con- sent, and the terrible four years' conflict ceased. We have told the chief incidents in the career as a soldier of the great Union general ; we have now to deal with that of his equally great oppo- nent in the final year of the war, the brilliant commander of the Con- federate forces, General Robert E. Lee. Of all the men whose character and ability were developed in the Civil War, there was perhaps not one in either army whose greatness is more generally acknowledged than that of the man just named. His ability as a soldier and his character as a man are alike appreciated; and while it is natural that men of the North should be unwilling to Character of 1 1 • . 1 • • . 1 condone his taking- up arms against the government, yet General Lee & r & & » J that has not prevented their doing full justice to his greatness. It is not too much to say that General Lee is recognized, both North and South, as one of the greatest soldiers, and one of the ablest and purest men, that America has produced. Lee, like Grant, was a graduate of West Point and had seen service in the Mexican war, in which he won high honor. It was he who, when John Brown made his raid against Harper's Ferry, was despatched with a body of troops for his capture. The raiders had entrenched themselves in the engine house of the arsenal, but Lee quickly battered down the door, cap- tured them, and turned them over to the civil authorities. Lee, the son of " Light Horse Harry Lee," a famous general of the Revolutionary War, cherished an attachment to the Union which his father GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 45c, lad helped him to form, and at the breaking out of the Civil War was in great doubt as to what course he should take. He disapproved of ion, but vas thoroughly pervaded with the idea of loyalty to his state an idea vhich was almost universal in the South, though not enter- ained by the people of the North. He had great difficulty ^f*?*™ 11 ™ / r r f> J to His State n arriving at a decision; but when at last Virginia adopted in ordinance of secession, he resigned his commission in the United States irmy. Writing to his sister, he said, "Though I recognize no necessity for his state of things, and would have forborne and pleaded to the end for •edress of grievances, yet in my own person 1 had to meet the question vhether I should take part against my native state. With .ill my devotion the Union, and the feeling of loyalty and duty as an American citizen, . have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my datives, my children, my home. 1 have therefore resigned my commis- sion in the army, and, save in defence of my native state, I hope I may lever be called upon to draw my sword." It was not a case in which a soldier who believed in state supremacy :ould long hesitate. Virginia was invaded, and Lee drew ids sword "in lefence of his native state," his first service being as brigadier-general n Northwestern Virginia, where he was opposed to General Rosecrans. dere no important battle was fought, and in the latter part of Lee in Com- :86i he was sent to the coast of North Carolina, where he mandatRich- )lanned the defences which were held gfood against Union ittack until the last year of the war. After the wounding ol General J. E, ohnston at Fair Oaks, Lee was called to the command of the forces at Richmond, and on June 3, 1862, took charge of the army defending the Confederate capital. The task before him was no light one. McClellan lay before Richmond vith a powerful and well-appointed army, and that city was in considerable langer of capture. But the generals opposed to each other were of very dif- ferent calibre. McClellan was of the cautious and deliberate order ; Lee was )ne of those ready to dare all " on the hazard of a die." On June 26th he nade a vigorous assault on the Union army, and continued it vith unceasing persistence day after day for six days, driving Jfj^'t * J McClellan and his men steadily backward. On the final day, |uly 1st, the Union army, strongly posted on Malvern Hill, defeated Lee, vho suffered heavy loss. But .McClellan continued to retreat until the James River was reached and the siege of Richmond abandoned. A few r months passed, and then, with a sudden and rapid sweep north. Lee fell upon the large army which had been gathered under General Pope, 460 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR on the old battlefield of Bull Run. Here a terrible struggle took piace, °nding in the disastrous defeat of Pope. In this bloody battle the Unionists lost 25,000 men, of whom 9,000 were made prisoners. The Confederates lost about 15,000. As the defeated army had fallen back on Washington, that city was safe against assault, and on September 4th, with another 08 his brilliant and rapid movements, Lee marched his army into Maryland,! hoping that this State would rise in his support. He was disappointed in this; the Marylanders proved staunch for the Union ; but one great advantage was gained in the capture of Harper's Ferry by Stonewall Jackson, with nearly 12,000 prisoners and immense quantities of munitions of war. It was a bloodless victory, as valuable in its' results for the Confederacy as had been the sanguinary battle of Bull Run. A few days later, on September 17th, the two late opponents, McClellan and Lee, met in conflict at Antietam, in the most bloody battle, for! Secon u Run t ^ e numbers engaged, of the war. Lee had taken a dano-erousi and Antietam . . . risk in weakening his army to despatch Jackson againsti Harper's Ferry. But the alert Jackson was back again, and the Confederated had 70,000 men to oppose to the 80,000 under McClellan. The result was in a measure a drawn battle, but Lee was so severely handled that he did not deem it safe to wait for a renewal of the conflict, and withdrew across the Potomac. The failure of McClellan to pursue with energy brought his career to an end. He was removed from command by the government and replaced by General Burnside. It cannot be said that the change of commanders was a successful one. Burnside attacked the vigilant Lee at Fredericksburg, on December 13th, and met with one of the most disastrous defeats of the war, losing nearly 14,000 men to a Confederate loss of 5,000. General Hooker, who succeeded Fredericksburg him, met w i tn a similar defeat. Supplied with a splendid And Chancel- army, over 100,000 strong, he attacked Lee at Chancellorsville on May 3, 1863, and met with a terrible repulse, through a brilliant flank movement executed by Stonewall Jackson, losing over 17,000 men. The Confederates had a loss, not less severe, this being the death of Jackson, their most brilliant leader after Lee. His great successes at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville led Lee to venture upon a daring but dangerous movement, an invasion of the North ; one which, if successful, might have placed Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington in his hands, but which, if unsuccessful, would leave him in a very critical position. It was, as all readers know, unsuccessful. General Meade, who replaced Hooker in command, followed the Confederates north with the utmost GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 461 laste. and placed himself across their path at Gettysburg, in western Penn- iylvania. On July 1st, the advance columns of the two armii net, and engaged in a preliminary struggle, which ended in a Tl !f Arm ' es at o o r „ .^.-. > Gettysburg epulse of the Union forces. These fell back and took up a jtrong position on Cemetery Ridge, where during the night they were ,trongly reinforced by the troops hurrying up from the south. During the iext two days the Union army fought on the defensive, Lee making vigor- >us onslaughts upon it and fighting desperately but unsuccessfully to break Meade's line or seize some commanding point. The end of this fierce struggle — which is ranked among the decisive battles of the world— came >n the 3d, when Lee launched a powerful column, 15,000 The Union Vic- trong, under General Pickett, against the Union centre. It toryatGet- :nded in a repulse, almost an annihilation, of the charging ys urg orce, and the great battle was at an end. The next day Lee retreated. -Ie had lost in all about 30,000 men. The Union loss aggregated about !3,ooo. The 4th of July, 1863, was in its way as great a day for the American Jnion as the 4th of July, 1776, for it was the great turning point in the Far. On this day Grant took possession of Yicksburg, with 30,000 >risoners, and cut the Confederacy in two. And on the same day Lee >egan his retreat, disastrously beaten in his last act of offensive warfare. During the remainder of his career he was to stand on the lefence, until driven to bay and forced to surrender by the The jth of July, ' J 1863 lammer-like blows of " Unconditional surrender Grant." But while brilliant in offensive war, Lee was in his true element in lefence, and never has greater skill and ability, or more indomitable resis- ince, been shown than in his struggle against his vigorous adversary. jrrant was appointed commander-in-chief of the Union armies, on March I, 864. Having sent Sherman to conduct a campaign in the South, he himself, >n May 4 and 5. crossed the Rapidan River for a direct advance on Rich- oond. A campaign of forty-three days followed, in which more than 100,000 nen, frequently reinforced, were engaged on either side, (.rant xhe Great :ame first into encounter with Lee in the Wilderness, near the Strusslefor .cene of 1 looker's defeat a year before. Here, after two days >f terrible slaughter, the battle ended without decided advantage to either iide, though the Union loss was double that of the Confederates. Finding Lee's position impregnable, Grant advanced by a flank move- nent to Spottsylvania Court 1 louse. Here, on May nth, Hancock, by a lesperate assault, captured Generals Johnson and E. H. Stewart, with 3000 ncn and 30 guns, while Lee himself barely escaped. But no fighting, how- 36 462 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR ever desperate, could carry Lee's works. Sheridan with his cavalry now made a dashing raid toward Richmond. He fought the Confederate cavalry, killed their ablest general, J. E. B. Stuart, and returned, having suffered little damage, to Grant. On May 17th, Grant, having executed another flank movement, reached the North Anna River. But Lee had fallen back with his usual celerity, and the advancing army found itself again in face of strong entrenchments. As a vigorous attack failed to carry Lee's works, Grant made a third flank march, which brought him to the vicinity of Richmond. Here once more he found his indefatigable opponent in his front, very strongly posted at Cold Harbor. Grant, perhaps incensed at seeing this man always blocking up his road, hurled his tried troops upon the impregnable works of the enemy. It was a vain effort, leading only to< dreadful slaughter. The Unionists lost in this hopeless affair over 10,000 in killed and wounded, while the Confederates escaped practically with- out loss. Grant now executed the most promising of his flank movements. He secretly crossed the James River about June 15th and made a dash on Petersburg, hoping to seize the railroads leading south and to on Petersburg cut tne une °^ supply of Richmond. But unforeseen delays and strong resistance enabled Lee to throw a force of his veterans into the town, and the movement failed. And now for months it was a question of attack and defence. Both sides threw up entrenchments of enormous strength, and the following fall and winter were occupied in an incessant artillery duel, marked by a few assaults, which had little effect other than that of loss of life. But during all this time Lee's army was weakening, while that of Grant was kept in full strength. At the end of March, 1865, the final events of the great struggle were at hand. Grant sent Warren and Sheridan to the south of Petersburg, to cut the Danville and Southside Railroads, Lee's avenues of supply. On April 1st the Confederate right wing was encountered and defeated at Five Forks, and on the following day the whole line of works defending Petersburg was successfully assailed. Richmond could no longer be held. Lee evacuated it that night, and retreated towards Danville with about 35,000 men. But the The End of the T t • i i r-i • j i ■ 1 1 1 • Conflict Union cavalry under bhendan pursued with such celerity that escape was cut off, and the Confederates were surrounded at Appomattox Court House, and forced to surrender on April 9, 1865. Lee had made for himself a world-wide reputation. While the bull- dog persistence of Grant had enabled him to crush army after army of the GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR 463 onfederucy, Lee had shown himself one of the most brilliant of generals, lccessful in all his assaults except at Gettysburg, and almost without a ser in defensive warfare. Only the utter exhaustion of the country behind im and the slow grinding of his army into fragments brought final success > his opponents. We can only refer briefly to the careers of some of the abler sub- rdinate commanders in the war. First among them was Sherman, whose tploits in great measure place him on a level with Grant and Lee. i truth, there was no more brilliant operation in the entire war than his imous " March through Georgia. " This striking event was the culmination of a series of successful battles id flank movements, by which Johnston was gradually forced back from hattanooga to Atlanta. Here the able Johnston was removed and replaced y the dashing but reckless Hood, who attacked Sherman Sherman's srcely, but only to meet a disastrous repulse. A final Hank March on .ovement, which cut off Hood's sources of supply, forced him > evacuate Atlanta, which Sherman occupied on September 1, 1864. It as the most brilliant success of the year, and Sherman became the hero of le hour. Hood, finding that he could do nothing there, made a dash into ennessee, hoping to draw Sherman after him for the defence of Nashville. Sherman had no intention of doing anything of the kind. I he :moval of Hood from his vicinity was just what he wanted, and he ■marked in a chuckling tone, " If Hood will go to Tennessee I will be [ad to furnish him with rations for the trip." What he had in view was )mething very different ; namely, to abandon his long line of supplies, larch across Georgia to Savannah, nearly three hundred miles away, and ve upon the country as he went, while destroying one of the richest >urces of Confederate supply. The Confederate generals did not dream of a movement of such nusual boldness, and left the field clear for Sherman's march. For a tonth he and his men simply disapp No one knew Marching here they were, or if they were not annihilated. They had Through lunged into the heart of the Confederacy, far away from all leans of communication, and the people of the North could only wait and ope. " I know which hole he went in at," said Lincoln to anxious iquirers, "but I know no more than you at which hole he will come out." He came out at Savannah. He had cut a great swath, thirty miles ide, through Georgia, his soldiers living off the country and rendering incapable of furnishing supplies for the Confederate armies, and on >ecember 23d he sent Lincoln a despatch that carried joy throughout the 4^4 GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR North : " I beg to present you as a Christmas gift the city of Savannah, with one hundred and fifty guns and plenty of ammunition, and aboul twenty-five thousand bales of cotton." The remainder of Sherman's movement may be briefly told. March] ing northward, he took Charleston, which had so long defied Union assault, without a shot. Reaching North Carolina, -he found himself opposed again Sherman to Johnston, but before much fighting took place the news ol Marches Lee's surrender came, and nothing was left for Johnstor except to yield up his force. Meanwhile, Thomas, who hac saved the army at Chickamauga, hurried to Nashville to meet the hard fighting Hood, and there defeated him so utterly and dispersed his arm] so completely that it never came together again. There is only one further exploit of the Union generals that calls hen for special mention, that of Sheridan's famous ride. In 1S64 Lee sen; General Early with 20,000 men to the Shenandoah Valley, recently cleared General Early's °f ' ts defenders, the purpose being to threaten Washingtot Raid on Wash- and possibly oblige Grant to weaken his forces for its defence Success attended Earlv's movement. He invaded Maryland, de feated Lew Wallace near Frederick, and reached the suburbs of Washington which an immediate attack might have placed in his hands. Not venturing however, to attack the capital, he soon returned, with large spoils in horse and cattle, to the Valley, where he defeated General Crook at Winchester In one respect this movement had failed. Grant was not induced t( weaken his forces to any important extent. Had it been Stonewall Jacksot in the Valley it might have been different, but he contented himself wit! sending Sheridan to take care of Early. Sheridan bided his time, despit< the growing impatience in the country. Grant visited him, intending tc propose a plan of operations, but he found that Sheridan was in full toucl with the situation, and left him to his own devices. At length, in September, Early incautiously divided his command, anl Sheridan, who was closely on the watch, attacked him, flanked him rig hi and left, broke his lines in every direction, and sent him, as he telegraphec "Whirling to Washington, "Whirling through Winchester." "I have Through never since deemed it necessary to visit General Sheridan be ster -" fore giving him orders," said Grant afterwards. Sheridar again attacked and defeated Early at Fisher's Hill, driving him out of the valley and into the gaps of the Blue Ridge. Sometime afterwards took place the most famous event in Sheridan': career. During an absence at Washington his camp at Cedar Creek waj surprised by Early, the men were driven back in disorderly rout, and eighteen GRANT AND LEE AND THE CIVIL WAR ;uns and nearly a thousand prisoners were lost. Sheridan on his way back rom the capital, had stopped for the night at Winchester. On his way to the ront the next morning the sound of distant guns came to his ears. Per- eiving that a battle was in progress, he rode forward at full speed. Soon n to meet frightened fugitives, and guessed what had happened. faking- off his hat, he swung it in the air as he dashed onward at a gallop, houting. "Face the other way, boys; face the other way. We're going >ack to lick them out of their boots ! " His words were electrical. The fugitives did "face the other way." As le came nearer and met the retreating companies and regiments, he rallied hem with the same inspiring cry. The men turned hack. The Confederates, i'ho were rilling their camp, were astounded to find a routed , , , .. iiii- Sheridan's Ride irmy chan upon them. Dismay spread through their anks, they were thrown into disorder, and were soon in full flight, having ost all the captured guns and twenty-four more, with a heavy loss in killed, mounded, and prisoners. Since that day "Sheridan's ride" has been cele- >rated in song and story as the most dramatic incident of the war. We have told some of the exciting events of the conflict from the Jnion side. The Confederates also had their dashing generals and thrilling leeds of valor. But this chapter is already so extended that we must con- ine ourselves to an account of but one in addition to Lee, the renowned Stonewall Jackson. It is well known how Thomas J. Jackson got this title if honor. In the battle of Bull Run Ids men stood so firm amid the lisordered fragments of other corps, that General Bee called attention to hem : " Look at those Virginians ! They stand like a stone wall." The itle of " Stonewall" clung to their leader until his death. His most famous /ork was done in the Shenandoah Valley. In March, 1862, stonewall le retreated before Banks some forty miles, then suddenly Jackson and urned and with only 3,500 men drove him back in dismay. kit his most brilliant exploit was in April, when lie whipped Milroy. Banks, Shields, and Fremont, one after another, in the Valley, and then suddenly urned, marched to Lee's aid, and helped to defeat McClellan at Gaines's dills, the first victory in the memorable six days' light. In August, 1862, he drove Pope back from the Rappahannock, and by tubborn fighting held him fast until Longstreet could get up to aid in the ictory of the second Bull Run. We have told of his striking exploit at harper's Ferry, and how he won the day at Chancellorsville. Here ie was wounded by a mistaken volley from his own men, was soon alter at- acked with pneumonia, and died on May 10, 1S03. Thus fell the ablest lan, after Lee, that the great contest developed on the Confederate side. CHAPTER XXXII. The Indian in the Nineteenth Century THE relation of the American people to the Indians, since the firsc settlement of this country, has been one of conflict, which has been almost incessant in some sections of the land By the opening of the nineteenth century the red men had been driven back in great measure from the thirteen original states, but the tribes in the west were still frequently The Relation of hostile, and stood sternly in the way of our progress westward. Whites and We propose in this chapter to describe the various relations, both peaceful and warlike, which have existed between the whites and the red men during the century with which we are here concerned. The close of the Revolutionary War brought only a partial cessation of the Indian warfare. The red man was by no means disposed to give up his country without a struggle, and throughout the interior, in what is now Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin, and along the Ohio River, there were constant outbreaks, and battles of great severity. The conflict in Indiana brought forward the services of a young lieutenant, William Henry Harrison, who for many years had much to do with Indians, both as military officer and as governor of the Indian territory. In 1 8 1 1 appeared one of those great Indian chiefs whose abilities and influence are well worth attention and study. Tecumseh, a mighty warrior of mixed Creek and Shawnee blood, was one who dreamt the dream of freeing his people. With elo- quence and courage he urged them on, by skill he combined the tribes in a new alliance, and, encouraged by British influence, he looked forward to a great success. While he was seeking to draw the Southern Indians into his scheme, his brother rashly joined battle with General Harrison, and was utterly defeated in the fight which gained for Harrison the title of Old Tippecanoe. Disappointed and disheartened at this destruction of his life- work, Tecumseh threw all his great influence on the British side in the War of i S 1 2, in which he dealt much destruction to the United Harrison and States troops. At Sandusky and Detroit and Chicago, and at Tecumseh . r J & ' other less important forts, the Indian power was severely felt ; but at Terre Haute the young captain Zachary Taylor met the savages with such courage and readiness of resources that they were finally repulsed. 468 THE INDIAN IX Till-: NINETEENTH CENTURY 469 But rarely did a similar good fortune befall our troops ; and it was not until after Commodore Perry won victory for us at Lake Erie, that Tecumseh himself was killed, and the twenty-five hundred Indians of his force were finally scattered, in the great fight of the Thames River, where our troops were commanded by William Henry Harrison and Richard M. Johnson, afterward President and Vice-President of the United States. For a little time the Northwest had peace. But in the South the warfare was not over. Tecumseh had stirred up the Creeks and Seminoles against the whites, and throughout Alabama. Georgia, and Northern Florida the Creek War raged with all its horrid accompaniments until 1814 ; even the redoubtable Andrew . Jackson could not conquer tin- brave Creeks until they were almost extermi- nated, and then a small remnant remained in the swamps of Florida to be heard of at a later time. Before the new government of the United States was fully upon its feet it recognized the necessity and duty of caring for its Indian population. In 1775, a year before the Declaration of Independence, the Continental Congress divided the Indians into three departments, northern, middle and southern, each under tin- care of three or more commissioners, among whom we find no less personages than Oliver Wolcott, Philip Schuyler, Patrick Henry and Benjamin Franklin. As early as 1812 the young . " , . ,, c 1 • 1 • re ,, National nation tound itseli confronted with a serious Indian problem, p er icd ted a separate bureau for the charge of the red men, and inaugurated a definite policy of treatment. Speaking in general, we have altered this policy three times. As a matter of fact, we have altered its details, changed its plans, and adopted new methods of management as often as changing administrations have changed the administrators of our Indian affairs. But in the large, there have been three great steps in our Indian policy, and these have to some extent growai out of our changing conditions. The first plan was that of the reservations. Under that system, as the Indian land was wanted by the white population, the red man was removed across the Mississippi and pushed step by step still further west ; and as time went on and the population followed hard after, he was eventually confined to designated tracts. Yetdespite the fact Policy that these tracts were absolutely guaranteed to him, he was driven off them again and again as the farmer or the miner demanded the land. In time a new policy was attempted, or rather an old policy was revived, that of concentrating the whole body of Indians into one state or territory, but the obvious impossibility of that scheme soon brought it to an end. Less than thirty years ago the present plan took its place-, that of education and eventual absorption. 470 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTUR V In 1830 the country seemed to stretch beyond any possible need of the young nation, lusty as it was, and the wide wilderness of the Rocky Moun- tains promised to furnish hunting grounds for all time. The Mississippi Valley and the Northwest were still unsettled, but in the South the Five Nations were greatly in the way of their white neighbors, and the work of the removal of the latter beyond the Mississippi was begun. Under President Monroe several treaties were made with those tribes — the Creeks, Chero* kees, Choctaws, Chickasaws and Seminoles — by which, one after another, Removal of the they ceded their lands to the government, and took in ex- Southern change the country now known as the Indian Territory. They were already somewhat advanced in civilization, with leaders combining in blood and brain the Indian astuteness and the white man's experience and education. John Ross, a half-breed chief of the Cherokees, of unusual ability, brought about the removal under conditions more favorable than often occurred. He was bitterly opposed by full half the Indians, and it was not without sufferings and losses of more than one kind that the great southern leao-ue was removed to the fair and fertile land set aside for them in the far-off West. It was owing to the sagacity of John Ross and his associates that this land was secured to them, in a way in which no other land has ever been secured to an Indian tribe. They hold it to-day by patent, as secure in the sight of the law as an old Dutch manor house or a Virginia plantation, and all the learning of the highest tribunals has not yet found the way to evade or disregard these solemn obligations. To these men, too, and to the missionaries who long taught their tribes, do they owe an effective form of civilization, and a governmental polity which preserves for them alone, amone all the red men, War with the f, J . . ' . , . „. & „ . . . Seminoles t' 16 tl,: ' e an " l ^ e state of nations. 1 he Seminoles, who were of the Creek blood, were divided, some of them going west with their brethren, the larger number of them remaining in Florida. With these — about 4,000 in all — under their young and able chief, Osceola, the government fought a seven years' war, costing many lives and forty millions in money, and did not then succeed in removing all the Seminoles from their much-loved home. A similar state of affairs attended the removals in the north. The sav- ages bitterly opposed giving up their native soil, there being in every case two parties in the tribe, one that sorrowfully yielded to the necessity of sub- mission, and one that indulged in the hopeless dream of successful resistance. Thus the Sac and Fox tribe of Wisconsin was divided, and although Keokuk and one band went peaceably to their new home among the lowas, Clack Hawk and his followers were slow to depart, and were removed by THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 471 force. The Indian Department failed to furnish corn enough for the new settlement, and, going to seek it among the Winnebagoes, the Indians came into collision with the government. Thereafter ensued a series of misund . and consequent fights, resulting in great Hostilities with alarm among the whites and destruction to the Indians. The Northern stop same story, almost to details, that has been fre- n es quently seen since that time. After the fashion above described all the removals have- proceeded, the can tin same, the white man's -reed and the ferocity of the wronged and infuriated savage. It is useless and impossible to give the details of all tin: various tribes that have been pushed about in the manner described. In 1830 the East was already crowding toward the West, and every succeeding decade saw the frontier moved onward with giant strides. Everywhere the Indian was an undesirable neighbor, and when, in 1 S49, the discover)' of gold began to create a new nation on the Pacific -lope, a pressure began from that side also, and the intervening deserts became a thoroughfare for the pilgrims ol fortune and the lovers of adventure. From yi ar to year the United Si made fresh treaties with the tribes; those in the East were- Treatmentof gone already, those in the interior were following fast, and the Western there had arisen the new necessity of dealing with those in the far West. One tribe after another would be planted on a reservation millions of acres in extent and apparently far beyond the home of civiliza- tion, and almost in a twelvemonth the settler would be upon its border, demanding its broad acres. The reservations were altered, reduced, taken away altogether, at the pleasure of the government, with little regard to the rights or wishes of the Indian. Usually this brought about lighting, and it produced a state of permanent discontent that wrought harm for belli settler and savage. The Indian grew daily more and m acherous and constantly more cruel. The white settler was daily in greater danger, and constantly more eager for revenge. A new complication entered into the problem. The game was fast disappearing, and with it the subsistence of the Indian. It became n< sary for the government to furnish rations and clothes, lest he should starve ami freeze. Cheating was the rule and deception the every-day experience of these savages. In 1795 General Wayne gained the nickname of General To-morrow, so slow was the government to fulfill morrow""" his promises ; and thus for more than a hundred years it was to-morrow for the Indian. Exasper .oiul endurance, he was ever [y to retaliate, and the horrors of an Indian war constantly hung over the pioneer. During all this period we treated the Indian tribes as if they 472 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY were foreign nations, and made solemn treaties with them, agreeing to furnish them rations or marking the reservation bounds. We have made more than a thousand of these treaties, and General Sherman is the authority for the statement that we have broken every one of them. Day by day the gluttonous idleness, the loss of hope, the sense of wrong, and the bitter feeling of contempt united to degrade the red man as well as to madden him. The fighting did not cease, for all the promises or the threats of the government. But always, it is credibly declared, the first cause of an Indian outbreak was a wrong inflicted upon some tribe. And always, in the latter days as in the earlier period, it has meant one more effort on the part of the old warriors to regain the power they saw slipping away so fast. Both these causes entered into the awful Sioux War in Min- t S rt Marion, Florida, as a punishment worst: than death. The) wen- the wildest and fiercest warriors, who had fought long and desperately. On their way Mast they killed their guard, and repeatedly tried, one and another, to kill the. But Captain Pratt was a man of wonderful executive ability, of splendid courage and great faith in God and man. By firmness and patience and wondrous tact he gradually taught the savages to read and to work, and when after three years the government offered to return them to their Capta j n p r; . tt homes, twenty-three of them refused to go. Captain Pratt and his Cap- appealed to the government to continue their education, and General Armstrong, with his undying faith in human beings as children of one Father and his sublime enthusiasm for humanity, received most of them at Hampton Institute, the rest being sent to the North under the care of Bishop Huntington, of New York. In the end these nun returned to their tribes Christian men, and, with the seventy who returned directly from Florida, they became a power for peace and industry in their tribe. Out of this small beginning grew the great policy of Indian education, ami the long story of death and destruction began to change to the bright chronicle of oeace and education. What, then, is the condition of the Indian to-day? In number there are scarcely more than two hundred and forty thousand in the whole coun- try. Of these less than one-fifth depend upon the government for support. All told, they are fewer than the inhabitants of Buffalo or Cleveland or Pittsburg, yet they are not dying out, but rather steadily increasing. They are divided and subdivided into many tribes of different characteristics and widely different degrees of civilization. Some are Sioux — these are brave and able and intelligent; they live in wigwams or tepees, and are dangerous and often hostile. Some are Zunis, who live in , , 1 1 -r 1 1 -ill How the Indians houses and make beautiful pottery, and are mild and peace- L|ye able, and do not question the ways of the Great Father at Washington. Some are roving bands of Shoshones, dirty, ignorant, and shiftless — the tramps of their race- -who are on every man's side at once. Some are Chilcats or Klinkas, whose Alaskan homes offer new problems of new kinds for every day we know them. And some are Cherokees, living in fine houses, dressed in the latest fashion, and spending their winters in Washington or Saint Louis. Yet these, and many of other kinds, are all alike Indians. They have their own governments, their own unwritten laws, their own customs. As a race they are neither worthless nor degraded. The Indian is not only brave, strong, and able by inheritance and practice to endure, but die is 478 THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY patient under wrong, ready and eager to learn, and willing to undergo much privation for that end ; usually affectionate in his family relations, grateful to a degree, pure and careful of the honor of his wife and daughter ; and he is also patriotic to a fault. He has a genius for government, and an unusual interest in it. He is full of manly honor, and he is strongly reli- gious. His history and traditions have only recently been traced, to the de- light and surprise of scientific students. His daily life is a thing of ela- borate ceremonial, and his national existence is as carefully regulated as our own, and by an intricate code. It is true that our failure to comprehend his character and our neglect to study his customs have bred many faults in him and have fostered much evil. Our treatment of him, moreover, has produced and increased a hostility which has been manifested in savage methods for which we have had little mercy. But we have not always given the same admiration to warlike virtues when our enemy was an Indian that we have showered without stint upon ancient Gaul or modern German. The popular idea of the Indian not only misconceives his character, but to a large degree his habits also. Ia " , a .™ c er Even the wildest tribes live for the most part in huts or cabins and Habits _ l made of logs, with two windows and a door. In the middle is a fire, sometimes with a stovepipe and sometimes without. Here the food is cooked, mostly stewed, in a kettle hung gypsy-fashion, or laid on stones over the fire. Around the fire, each in a particular place of his own, lies or sits the whole family. Sometimes the cooking is done out of doors, and in summer the close cabin is exchanged for a tepee or tent. Here they live, night and day. At night a blanket is hung up, partitioning the tent for the younger women, and if the family is very large, there are often two tents, in the smaller of which sleep the young girls in charge of an old woman. These tents or cabins are clustered close together, and their in- habitants spend their days smoking, talking, eating, or quarreling, as the case may be. Sometimes near them, sometimes miles away, is the agent's house and the government buildings. These are usually a commissary build- ing where the food for the Indians is kept, a blacksmith shop, the store of the trader, school buildings, and perhaps a saw-mill. To this place the Indians come week by week for their food. The amount and nature of the rations called for by treaties vary greatly among different Agencies tribes. But everywhere the Indian has come into some sort of contact with the whites, and usually he makes some shift to adopt the white man's ways. A few are rich, some own houses, and almost universally, at present, government schools teach the children something of the elements of learning as well as the indispensable English. THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENT/ r RY 470 Tlie immediate control of the reservation Indian is in the hands of the agent, whose power is almost absolute, and, like all despotisms, may be very good or intolerably bad according to the character of the man. The agencies are visited from time to time by inspectors, who report directly to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, — an officer of the Interior Department and responsible to the secretary, who is, of course, amenable to the Presi- dent. In each house of Congress is a committee having charge of all legis- lation relating to Indian affairs. Besides these officials there is the Indian Commission already mentioned. The National Indian Rights Association and the Women's National Indian Association are the unofficial and volun- tary guardians of the Indian work. It is their ta.sk to spread correct inhu- mation, to create intelligent interest, to set in motion public and private forces which will bring about legislation, and by public meetings and private labors to prevent wrongs against the Indian, and to further good work of man)- kinds. While the Indian Rights Association does the xhe Indian most public and official work for the race and has large in- Rights Asso- lluence over legislation, the Women's Indian Association con- ua l0n cerns itself more largely with various philanthropic efforts in behalf of the individual, anil thus the two bodies supplement each other. Hopeless and impossible as it seemed to many when this effort began to absorb the Indian, to-day we see the process well under way and in some cases half accomplished; and in this work the government, philanthropy, education and religion have all had their share, and so closely have these worked together that neither can he set above nor before tin: others. We in to realize, it is true, that our duty and our safety alike lay in educating the Indians as early as 1819. when Congress appropriated $10,000 for that purpose, and still earlier President Washington declared 1,. a deputation of Indians his belief that industrial education was their greatesl , , . . .... . , in- Appropriations need ; but it is only within recent years that determined enorts for Education have been made or adequate provision afforded. lie-inning with $10,000 in 1X10, we had reached only ^10,000 in 1S77 ; but the appro- priation for Indian education is now over $2, 500,000. Willi this money we support great industrial training schools established at varii aveiiient points. In them several thousand children are learning not only 1 ks, but all manner of industries, and are adding to study the training of character. There are more than 150 boarding schools on the. various reservations teaching and training these children of the hills and plains, and many gather daily at the three hundred little day schools which dot the prairies, some of them appearing to the unintiated to be miles away from any habi- tation. This does not include the mission schools of the various churches. 4 8o THE INDIAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY But all together it is hoped that in the excellent government schools now provided, in the splendid missionary seminaries, and in the great centres of light like Hampton and Carlisle and Haskell Institute, we shall soon do something for the education of nearly or quite all the Indian children who can be reached with schools. At present the daily school attendance is over 20,000. The two great training schools at the East, Hampton and Carlisle, Hampton and have proved object lessons for the white man as well as the Carlisle ln= Indian, and the opposition they constantly encounter from ian c 00s those who do not believe that the red man can ever receive civilization is in some sort a proof of their value. In the main, they and all their kind have one end — the thorough and careful training in books and work and home life of the Indian boy and girl — and their methods are much alike. Once a year the superintendents or teachers of these schools go out among the Indians and bring back as many boys and girls as they can per- suade the fathers and mothers to send. At first these children came in dirt and filth, and with little or no ideas of any regular or useful life, but of late many of them have gained some beginnings of civilization in the day schools. They are taught English first, and by degrees to make bread and sew and cook and wash and keep house if they are girls ; the trade of a printer, a blacksmith, a carpenter, etc., if they are boys. They study books, the boys are drilled, and from kind, strong men and gentle, patient women they learn to respect work and even to love it, to turn their hands to any needed effort, to adapt themselves to new situations. It is charged that the Indian educated in these schools does not remain civilized, but shortly returns to his habits and customs. A detailed examina- tion into the lives of three hundred and eighteen Indian students who have gone out from Hampton Institute has shown that only thirtv-five The Effect of ,~ . . . . . . , , . , '. , Education nave in any way disappointed the expectations 01 their mends and teachers, and only twelve have failed altogether ; and the extraordinary test of the last Sioux war, in which only one of these students, and he a son-in-law of Sitting Bull, joined the hostiles, may well settle the question. A recent statement says that 76 per cent, of the school graduates prove "good average men and women, capable of taking their place in the great body politic of our country." In 1887 a new step was taken for the advancement of the Indian, in the passage of the Severalty Act, by which homesteads of 160 acres were set aside for each head of a family willing to accept the proffer, and smaller homesteads for other members of the family. These were to be free from taxation and could not be sold for twenty-five years. They might be THE INDIAN OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 481 selected on the reservation of the tribe or anywhere else on the public domain. This allotment of land carried with it all the rights, privileges and immunities of American citizenship. In case the Indian should not care to take up a homestead, he could still become Act^ a citizen if he took up his residence apart from the tribe and adopted civilized habits. The purpose was to break up the tribal organiza- tion which had stood so greatly in the way of the beneficent purposes of the government, and to convert each Indian into an individual citizen of the United States. The effort has been attended with highly encouraging success. Within twelve years after the law was passed 55,467 Indians had taken up homesteads, aggregating in all 6.70S.62S acres. Of these agriculturists, more than 15,000 were heads of families, around whose farms wen- gathered the smaller ones of the other members of the family. The change to the independence and responsibilites of United States citizenship e °" was so sudden as to prove a severe strain to the Indian, accustomed to consider himself a fraction of a tribe and lacking the full sense of individuality. Yet the failures have been very few, and we begin to see our way clear to a final disposal of the long-existing Indian question. As regards the effect of religious training upon the Indians, it may be said to be quite encouraging. Of the 33,000 Sioux, for instance, 8,000 are now church members. The Presbyterian Church numbers nearly 5,000 Indian members and 4,000 Sunday-school pupils ; while the total number of church communicants among the Indians is nearly 30,000. Thus, with the close of the nineteenth century, there is good reason to hope for the end of a serious difficulty that has confronted the whites since their first settlement in this country nearly three hundred years ago. War, slaughter, injustice, wrongs innumerable have attended its attempted solu- tion, which long seemed as if it would be reached only when all the red men had been exterminated. Fortunately it was justice, not slaughter, that was needed, and the moment our government awoke fully to this fact and began to practice justice the difficulty began to disap- , e .. u c °"] e ° & f J j & 1 Indian Policy, pear. To-day just treatment, education, religious training are rapidly overcoming the assumed ineradicable savageness of the Indian, while the breaking up of the tribal system promises before many years to do away with the political aggregation of the Indians, and distribute them among the other citizens of our country as members of the general body politic. Thus has the nineteenth century happily disposed of an awkward problem that threatened seriously the successful development of our nation a century ago. CHAPTER XXXIII. The Development of the American Navy. IN scarcely any department of human industry are the changes produced by the progress of civilization more strikingly seen than in the navy. When America was discovered the galleon and the caravel were the standard warships of the world — clumsy wooden tubs, towering high in the air, propelled by sails and even oars, with a large number of small cannons, and men armed with muskets and cross-bows. Such was the kind of vessels that made up the famous Armada, " that great fleet invincible," which was vanquished by the smaller and lighter crafts of Britain. Three hundred years have passed, and what is the warship of to-day ? A low-lying hulk Development in °f > ron ar >d steel ; armed with a few big guns, each one of Naval Archi- which throws a heavier shot than a galleon's whole broadside '< driven resistlessly through the water by mighty steam engines ; lighted and steered by electric apparatus, and using an electric search-light that makes midnight as bright as day. All the triumphs of science and mechanic arts have contributed to the perfection of these dreadful sea monsters, a single one of which could have destroyed the whole Armada in an hour, and laughed to scorn the mieht of Nelson at Trafalgar. And in the development of this modern warship no other nation on earth has won as much credit as the United States, the whole career of which upon the sea has been one of glory and success, while its inventors and engineers have gained as much renown as its admirals and sailors, in their develop- ment of new ideas in naval architecture and warfare. Of all ocean exploits American m history that of John Paul Jones in the Bon Homme Richard Sailors and ranks first. Lord Nelson himself scarcely showed such indomi- Their Doings table p]uck and j ntre p ic ii t y. And in the war of 1812 Ameri- can ships and sailors took from Great Britain the credit of being the mistress of the seas, winning gallantly in every conflict where the forces engaged were at all near equality. This good work of the sailors was aided by that of the shipwrights. the Americans winning battles largely because they had better ships than their opponents. But their success was also in great measure due to the superiority of their ordnance and the better service of their guns. It was 482 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 4S5 to the careful sighting of the pieces that our sailors owed much of their victorious career. While most of the British shot were wasted on the sea and in the air, nearly all the American halls went Amer,can ; . , narksmanship home, carrying death to the British crews and destruction to their hulls and spars, while the American ships and sailors escaped in great measure unharmed. As regards the work of our naval inventors, it will suffice to say, that the Americans, while not the first to plate vessels with iron, were the first to do so effectively and to prove the superiority of the ironclad in naval warfare. The memorable contest in Hampton Roads between the Monitor and the Merrimac made: useless in a day all the fleets of all the nations of the world, and caused such a revolution in naval architecture and warfare as the world had never known. The fleet with which the United States entered the nineteenth century lue to the depredations on American ships and commerce of the war vessels of France and Great Britain. This roused great indignation, par- ticularly against France. While England contented herself with stopping American ships on the high seas and impressing sailors claimed to be of British birth, France seized our ships themselves, under the pretext that they had British goods on board, and if she found an American seaman on a British ship — even if impressed — she treated him as a The Early pirate instead of as a prisoner of war. Protection was felt American to be necessary, and preparations for war were made. The small navy of the Revolution had practically disappeared, and a new one was built. In July, 1798, the three famous frigates, the Constellation, the United Stales, and the Constitution — the renowned Old Ironsides — v. completed and sent to sea, and others were ordered to be built. Actual hostilities soon began. French piratical cruisers were captured, and an American squadron sailed for the West Indies to deal with the French privateers that abounded there, in which work it was generally successful. In January, 1799, Congress voted a million dollars, for building six ships of the line and six sloops. Soon after, on February 9, occurred the first engagement between vessels of the American and e . a X a ar T . , , , with France French navies. The Constellation, Captain Truxton, over- hauled L'Insurgente at St. Kitts, in the West Indies, and after a fight of an hour and a quarter forced her to surrender. The Constellation had three men killed and one wounded ; U 'Insurgente twenty killed and forty-six wounded. Again, on February 1, 1800, Truxton with the Constellation came up, at Guadeloupe, with the French Frigate La Vengeance. Alter chasing her 486 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NA VY two days he brought on an action. The two ships fought all night. In the morning, La Vengeance, completely silenced and greatly shattered, drew away and escaped to Curacoa, where she was condemned as unfit for further service. The Constellation was little injured save in her rigging. For his gallantry, Truxton received a gold medal from Congress. Later in that year there were some minor engagements, in which the American vessels were successful. By the spring of 1S01, friendly relations with France were restored. The President was accordingly authorized to dispose of all the navy, save thirteen ships, six of which were to be kept constantly in commission, and to dismiss from the service all officers save nine captains, thirty-six lieuten- ants, and one hundred and fifty midshipmen. At about this time ground was purchased and navy-yards were established at Portsmouth, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Washington and Norfolk, and half a million dollars were appropriated for the completion of six seventy-four gun ships. Nothing needs to be said here concerning our conflicts with the pirates of the Mediterranean or of the remarkable exploits of the small American navy in the second war with Great Britain. These have already been dealt with in chapters xxv. and xxvi. In the interval between that period and the Civil War there was little demand upon the American navy. The naval operations during the Mexican war were of no great importance. Some vessels were used in scientific exploration, and the dignity of America had to be asserted on some occasions, but the most important service ren- dered by the navy was the opening up of Japan to the commerce of the world. After some fruitless efforts at intercourse with the The Opening up j s i an d rea l m Commodore Perry was sent thither in 1852, and of Japan ' } . , . by a resolute show of force he succeeded in obtaining a treaty of commerce from Japan. That treaty opened Japan to the world, and was the first step in its remarkable recent career. At the beginning of the Civil War the United States was very poorly provided with ships of war. There were only forty-two vessels in commis- sion, nearly all of which were absent in distant parts of the world. Others were destroyed in southern ports, and for a time there was actually only one serviceable warship on the North Atlantic coast. This difficulty was soon overcome by buying and building, and by the end of 1861 there were 264 vessels in commission, and all the ports in the South were under blockade. These vessels were a motley set, — ferry boats, freight steamers, every sort of craft — but they served to tide over the emergency. With all this we are not particularly concerned, but must turn our attention to the great naval events of the war, those conflicts which served REAR-ADMIRAL WILLIAM 1 SAMPSON A1).M1K Al i.l i iKl.l ni,H I Y REAR-ADMIRAL JOHN CRITTENDEN WATSON REAR-ADMIRAL W1NFIELO SCOTT SCHLEY LEADING COMMANDERS OF OUR NAVY IN THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR MAJOR-GENERAL WESI EY MERKITT. MAJUR-GENERAL WILLIAM R. SHAFTER. LEADING COMMANDERS OF OUR ARMY IN THE SPAN ISH -A M E R IC AN WAR THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 489 as turning points in nineteenth century warfare. And first and greatest among these was the remarkable naval battle in Hampton Roads on March 9, 1862. The use of iron for plating the hulls of ships was not first adopted in American war. This device was employed by England and France in the Crimean war in attacks on the Turkish forts. The idea, however, was American. As early as 181 3 Colonel John Stevens, of New __ .. > ' J • The Idea of York, made plans for an ironclad ship somewhat resembling ironplating the Monitor in type. His son Edwin afterwards performed of American experiments with cannon balls against iron plate, and in 1S44 Robert L. Stevens began the construction of a vessel to be plated with 41^-inch iron for the government. It was never finished, though in all nearly $2,000,000 were spent upon it. New invention rendered it obsolete before it could be completed, yet to it belongs the credit of inaugurating the era of the ironclad navy. Alter the Crimean war France and England both built ironclad ships, the French La Gloire beingf the first „ 1 ° Early Ironclads ironclad ever constructed. It was followed by the British of Great Warrior, launched in January, 1861. Yet despite this enter- Britain and prise, the fact remains that the first conception of an iron- clad ship belongs to the United States, and the first hostile meeting of two ironclads took place in American waters. At the opening of the American Civil War this idea was in the air, and it was soon made evident that the era of wooden warships was near its end. It is interesting to learn that the Confederates were the first to adopt the new idea, the earliest ironclad of the war being produced by them on the lower Mississippi. A large double-screw tugboat was employed, whose deck was covered with a rounded root, plated with bar iron one and a half inches thick. This craft — named the Manassas after the first Confederate victory — made its appearance at the mouth of the Mississippi on the night of October 31, 1S61, and created a complete panic in the ,,,,.,, , ~, , r , . The Ironclad blockading tleet at that point. 1 he Manassas wrecked one "Manassas" of her engines in attempting to ram the flagship Richmond, and crept slowly back, at the same time as the alarmed fleet was hastening away with all speed over the waters of the gulf. While this event was taking place, two ironclads of more formidable description were being built elsewhere, the meeting of which subsequently was the most startling revelation to the nations of the earth ever shown in naval warfare. The United States steam frigate Merrimac had been set on fire at the Gosport Navy Yard, when hastily abandoned by the Federal navy officers at the outbreak of the war. It was burned to the water's 49° THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY edge and sunk, but soon after the Confederates raised the hull, which was seriously damaged — its engines being in reasonably good condition — and they hurriedly undertook the work of converting it into an ironclad. A The Plating of powerful prow of cast iron was attached to its stem, a few feet the"Merri= underwater and projecting sufficiently to enable it to break in the side of any wooden vessel. A low wooden roof two feet thick was built at an incline of about 36 degrees, and this was plated with i double iron armor, making a four-inch iron plating. Under this protection were mounted two broadside batteries of four guns each, and a cfun at the stem and stern. The government was soon advised of the raising of the hull of the Merrimac, and without having detailed information on the subject, knew that a powerful ironclad was being constructed. A board of naval officers had been selected by the government to consider the various suggestions for the construction of ironclad vessels, and although, as a rule, naval officers had little faith in the experiment, Congress coerced them into action by the appropriation of half a million dollars for the work. The Naval Board recommended a trial of three of the most acceptable plans presented, and ships on these plans were put under contract. Among those who pressed the adoption of light ironclads, capable of penetrating our shallow harbors, rivers, and bayous, was John Ericsson. Ericsson and He was a Swede by birth, but had long been an American the"noni- citizen, and exhibited uncommon genius and scientific attain- ments in engineering. The vessel he proposed to build was to be only 127 feet in length, 27 feet in width, and 12 feet deep, to be covered by a flat deck rising only one or two feet above water. The only armament of the vessel was to be a revolving turret, about 20 feet in diame- ter and nine feet high, made of plated wrought iron aggregating eight inches in thickness, with two eleven-inch Dahlgren guns. The guns were so con- structed that they could be fired as the turret revolved, and the port-hole would be closed immediately after firing. The size of the Merrimac was well known to the government to be quite double the length and breadth of the Monitor, but it had the disadvantage of requiring nearly double the depth of water in which to manoeuvre it. Various sensational reports were received from time to time of the progress made on the Merrimac, the name of which was changed by the Confederates to Virginia, and as there were only wooden hulls at Fortress Monroe to resist it, great solicitude was felt for the safety of the fleet and the maintenance of the blockade. While the government hurried the construction of the new ironclads to the utmost, little faith was felt that so fragile a vessel as the Monitor could cope with so powerful an engine of war as the Merrimac. The most THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAS' NAVY 491 formidable vessels of the navy, including the Minnesota, the twin ship of the original Merrimac, the 5"/. Lawrence, the Roanoke, the Congress and tin: Cum- berland, were all in Hampton Rhoads waiting the advent of the Merrimac. On Saturday, the 8th of March, the .Merrimac appeared at the mouth of the Elizabeth River and steamed directly for the Federal fleet. All the vessels slipped cable and started to enter the conflict, but the heavier ships soon ran aground and became helpless. The Merrimac hurried on, and, after tiring a broadside at the Congress, crashed into the sides The Coming of of the Cumberland, whose brave men fired broadside after the •• Mer- broadside at their assailant only to see their balls glance from its mailed roof. An immense hole had been broken into the hull by the prow of the Merrimac. and in a very few minutes the Cu?nberland sank in fifty feet of water, her last gun being tired when the water had reached its muzzle, while the whole gallant crew went to the bottom with their flag still flying from the masthead. The Merrimac then turned upon the Congress, which was compelled to llee from such a hopeless struggle, ami was finally grounded near the shore:; but the Merrimac selected a position where her guns could rake her antagonist, and, after a bloody fight of 1 1 ■ 1 7 1 , -11 J J 1_ !_• The Fate ° f more than an hour, with the commander killed and the ship the "Con- on fire, the Congress struck her flag, and was soon blown up sress"and by the explosion of her magazine. Most fortunately for the ber/nd""" Federal fleet, the Merrimac had not started out on its work of destruction until after midday. Its iron prow was broken in breaching the Cumberland, and, after the fierce broadsides it had received from the Congress and the Cumberland, with the other . tiring repeatedly during the hand-to-hand conflict, the Merrimac's captain was content to withdraw for the day, and anchor for the night under the Confederate shore batteries on Sewall's Point. The night of March 8th was one of the gloomiest periods ol the war. The Merrimac was sure to resume its work on the following day, and, with the fleet destroyed and the blockade raised, Washington, and even New York, might be at the mercy of this terrible engine of war. But deliverance was at hand. The building of the Monitor had been hurried with all speed, and this little vessel, — "a cheese box on a raft." as it was con- temptuously termed — was afloat and steaming in all haste The Mon j t0 r in to Hampton Roads. It entered there that night, and took up Hampton a position near the helpless Minnesota in bold challenge to the oa Merrimac. On Sunday morning, March 9th, the Confederate ironclad came out to finish its work of destruction, preparatory to a cruise against the northern ports. 492 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY The little Monitor steamed boldly out to meet it. The history of that conflict need not be repeated. To the amazement of the commander of the Merrimac, the Monitor was impervious to its terrible broadsides, while its lightness and shallow draft enabled it to out-manceuvre its The First Battle an t a cronist at every turn ; and while it did not fire one eun to of Ironclads ° . J .. . ° . ten from its adversary, its aim was precise and the Merrimac was materially worsted in the conflict. After three hours of desperate battle the defiant and invincible conqueror of the day before found it advisable to give up the contest and retreat to Norfolk. It was this naval conflict, and the signal triumph of the little Monitor, that revolutionized the whole naval warfare of the world in a single day, and from that time until the present the study of all nations in aggressive or defensive warfare has looked to the perfection of the iron- clad. To the people of the present time the ironclad is so familiar, and its discussion so common, that few recall the fact that less than fifty years ago 'twas almost undreamed of as an important implement of war. It is notable ihat neither of those vessels which inaugurated ironclad warfare, and made it at once the accepted method for naval combat for the world, ever after- ward engaged in battle during the three years of war which con- Fate of the First j-inued. The Merrimac was feared as likely to make a new incur- Ironclads ... sion against our fleet, but her commander did not again venture to lock horns with the Monitor. Early in May the capture of Norfolk by General Wool placed the Merrimac in a position of such peril that on the i ith of that month she was fired by her commander and crew and abandoned, and soon after was made a hopeless wreck by the explosion of her magazine. The fate of the Monitor was even more tragic. The following December, when being towed off Cape Hatteras, she foundered in a gale and went to the bottom with part of her officers and men ; but she had taught the prac- ticability of ironclads in naval warfare, and when she went down a whole fleet was under construction after her own model, and some vessels already a\ active service. While these events were taking place in the waters of the coast, a fleet of ironclad boats was being built for service on the rivers of the West, seven of these being begun in August, 1861, by James B. Eads, the famous engineer of later times. These were light-draught, stern paddle-wheel river steamers, plated with 2^-inch iron on their sloping sides and ends. These, and those that followed them, saw much service in the western rivers, bombard- ing Forts Henry and Donelson, running through the fire of the forts on Island No. 10, and daring the terrible bombardment from the Vicksburg batteries. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAS NAVY 493 But the most famous event in river warfare during the conflict was the exploit of the daring Farragut in running past Forts St. Philip and Jackson on the Mississippi with his fleet of wooden vessels, breaking their iron chain. dispersing their gun-boats, and driving ashore the ironclad Manassas. The Confederates had also an ironclad battery, Far ™£ ut ° n * he •" Mississippi the Louisiana, but it proved of little service, and Farragut sailed triumphantly through the hail of (ire of the forts, and on the same afternoon reached the wharves of New Orleans. The most famous exploit of Farragut was the passing of the forts at Mobile. It is worth a brief relation, for in this the resources of ironclad warfare, as then developed, were fully employed, while the bottom of the channel was thickly sown with torpedoes, a mechanism in naval warfare; to become of great importance in the following years. Farragut's main fleet, indeed, was of wooden ships, but he had four monitors ; while the Con- federates, in addition to their forts and gunboats, had the ironclad ram Ten- nessee, the most powerful floating battery ever built by them. This form- idable craft — for that period — was plated with six inch iron armor in front and five inch elsewhere ; and, while carrying only six guns, these were 6- and 8-inch rifled cannon. The torpedoes, of which no fewer than 180 were sown in the channel, were not quite ineffective, since one of them exploded under the monitor Tccumseh, and she went down head first with nearly all her crew. The Brooklyn, following in her track, halted as this disaster was seen, her recoil checking all the vessels in her rear. Farragut theTorpedoes had taken his famous stand in the shrouds, just under the maintop, and hailed the Brooklyn as he came up in the Hartford. " What is the matter?" he demanded. "Torpedoes," came back the reply. " Damn the torpedoes ! " cried Farragut, in a burst of noble anger. "Follow me." As the Hartford passed on the percussion caps of the torpedoes were heard snapping under her keel. Fortunately they were badly made, and no other explosion took place. The story of the battle we may briefly complete. The ships dashed almost unharmed through the fire of the forts, driving the Confederate gun- ners from their pieces with a shower of grape and canister ; and the contest ended with an attack upon the Tennessee, whose stern-port shutters were jammed and her steering gear shot away. Rendered helpless, she was forced to surrender, and the fight was at an end. The Confederates were singularly unfortunate with their ironclads. With the exception of the temporary advantage gained by the Merrimac, all their labor and expense proved of no avail. The last of these war-monsters, 494 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NA VY the Albemarle, built in Roanoke River, and causing some alarm in the blockading fleet on the coast, was sent to the bottom by a daring young officer, Lieutenant dishing, in one of the most gallant exploits of the war. . He and a few men, in a steam launch carrying a large torpedo, Cushing and sailed up the stream at night to where the ironclad lay in her the"A!be= dock at Plymouth. A protecting raft of logs guarded the Albemarle, but Cushing daringly drove his launch up on the slimy logs, exploded the torpedo as it touched the sides of the ship, and leaped with his men into the stream. The Albemarle sank to a muddy bed in the river's bottom, and Cushing escaped to the blockading fleet, after a series of thrilling adventures. But the most important thing achieved in this war was the entire trans- formation effected in naval science. Previously the warship had been of the type of an armed merchantship, propelled by sails or, latterly, by steam, and carrying a large number of small guns. Modern inventiveness made it, after the duel of the Monitor and Merrimac ; a floating fortress of iron e ype o t e Qr stee i carr yj ng r a few enormously heavy guns. The glory New Navies . . . . of the old line-of-battle ship, with three or four tiers of guns on each side and a big cloud of canvas overhead, firing rattling broadsides, and manoeuvring to get and hold the weather-gauge of the enemy — all that was relegated to the past forever. In its place came the engine of war, with little pomp and circumstance, but with all the resources of science shut within its ugly, black iron hull. John Paul Jones, with his Bon Homme Richard, struck the blow that made universal the law of neutrals' rights. Hull, with the Constitution, sending a British frigate to the bottom, showed what Yankee ingenuity in sighting guns could do. Ericsson and Worden, with the Monitor, sent wooden navies to the hulk-yard and ushered in the era of iron and steel fighting-engines. These were the great naval events of a century. Yet the American navy was greatly neglected in the years succeeding the Civil War, while foreign nations, quick to learn the lesson taught at Hampton Roads, were straining every nerve to build powerful fleets of iron and steelclad ships, and to develop the breech-loading rifled cannon into an Beginning of the implement of war capable of piercing through many inches Modern Am- of solid steel. It was not until after 1880 that our govern- encan et ment awoke to the need of a navy on the new lines, and began to take advantage of the lessons that had been learned abroad. It is not our purpose to speak in detail of the results. The steelclad battle- ship and cruiser, the armor-piercing breech-loader, the quick-firing gun, the machine gun, the submarine torpedoboat, the anchored mine, the auto- THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 495 mobile torpedo, and other devices have come to make the naval warfare of our day a wonderfully different thing from that of the past. The: United Stat bi \,w late to build a modern navy, but has made highly encouraging progress, ami while still far in the rear of Great Britain and France in the number of her ships, possesses some of the finest examples of naval architecture now afloat upon the waters. The . lCo | um= Amonir commerce-destroyers the Columbia and the Minnea- bia"andthc polls, with their respective trial speeds of 22. Si and 23.07 "ilinnea- knots, stand beyond any rivals to-day in the navies of Euro] while the inventive naval engineering of the Americans is exemplified in the double turrets of the Kearsarge and Kentucky, two addition, to our navy of original formation, and likely to give an excellent account of them- selves should any new war occur. Of modern fleets, however, far the most powerful one is that of Great Britain, the eovernment of which island shows a fixed determination to keep its naval force beyond rivalry. This stupendous tleet forms the most striking example of naval destructiveness the world has ever The Powerful seen, and the nations of the world are entering the twentieth fleet of Great century with powers of warfare developed enormously beyond those with which they -entered the nineteenth. We can only hope that this vast development both in army and navy may prove to exert a peace-compel- ling influence, and that every new discovery in the art of killing and destroy- ing may be a nail in the coffin of Mars, the god of war. CHAPTER XXXIV. America's Conflict With Spain. A THIRD of a century passed after the great struggle of the United States for the existence of the Union, and then, in almost the closing year of the nineteenth century, came another war, this time fought in the interests of humanity. It was not a war for gain or conquest ; the thought of territorial acquisition did not enter into the motives leading to it, despite the fact that this country gained new territory as one of its A War in the results ; in its inception humane feeling, the sentiment of Cause of sympathy with the oppressed and starving people of Cuba, Humanity a l one prevailed, and the nineteenth century fitly reached its end with a war entered into for humanity's sake alone, it being one of the very few instances in the history of the world in which a nation has gone to war from purely philanthropic motives. It is not necessary here to repeat the story of Spain's tyranny in Cuba. It is too well known to need telling again, and simply carried out the colonial policy of Spain from the time of the discovery of America. The successful rebellion of her colonies on the American continent failed to teach that country the lesson which England learned from a similar occurrence, and in Cuba was continued the same system of tyranny and official oppression which had driven the other colonies to revolt. The result was the same, Cuba blazed into rebellion, and for years war desolated that fair island. The United States, however, sedulously avoided taking any part in the affair until absolutely driven to interfere by the horrible inhumanity displayed by Captain-General Weyler. It was the awful policy of " recon- centration " that stretched the forbearance of the people of this country to the breaking point. Not content with fighting the rebels in General Weyler arms t ^ Druta i Weyler extended the war against the people and His Policy ' J ... in their homes, burning their houses, destroying the crops in their fields, driving them in multitudes into the cities and towns, and holding them there in the most pitiable destitution and misery until they died by thousands the terrible death of starvation. It was not until word came to this country that not less than 200,000 of the helpless people had perished 496 SI \"< >R M< >N 1'KRi) RH >S President of the Spanish Peace Commission whose painful duty required liiin to sign away his country's colonial possessions. i NERAL RAMON BLANCO Who succeeded Weyler as Captain-General of Cuba in i8y^ He was formerly I oi the Philippine Islands. ADMIRAL CERVERA Commander of Spanish Fleet at Santiagr SAC, AST A premier of Spain during the Spanish-American Wa GENERAL JOSEPH WHEELER RICHMOND PEARSON HOBSON THEODORE ROOSEVELT MAJOR-GENERAL ELWELL S. OTIS POPULAR HEROES OF THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR AMERICA 'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 490 in this horrible manner, and that there seemed no hope of alleviation of the frightful situation, that there arose a general demand for the govern- ment to interfere. Spain was asked to fix a date in which the war should be brought to an end, with the intimation that if the contest was not con- cluded or the independence of the island conceded by that date, this country would feel obliged to take decisive st< No satisfactory answer was received, and anticipations of war filled all minds, though many hoped that this dread ultimatum might be avoided, when, in the last week of January, 1898, the battleship Manic was ordered to proceed from Key West to the harbor of Havana. Her visit was ostensibly a friendly one, but there had been riots in Havana which imperilled the safety of American residents, to whom the Spanish inhabitants of that city were bitter!)- hostile, and it was felt that some show of force in that harbor was imperative. A terrible disaster succeeded. In one fatal instant, on the night of February 15th, the noble ship was hurled to destruction and her crew into eternity. This frightful (-vent took place about 9.45 in the evening, while the ship lay quietly at anchor in the place selected for her by the Spanish authorities. Intense darkness prevailed in the harbor, Captain Sigsbee was writing- in his cabin, the men were in their quar- * ,?J n ?°,. » & ' 1 the " Maine ters below, when of a sudden came a terrible explosion that tore the vessel asunder and killed most of her crew. So violent was the shock that the whole water-front of the city was shaken as by an earthquake, telegraph poles were thrown down and the electric lights extinguished. The wrecked vessel sank quickly into the mud of the harbor's bottom, and a great flame broke from her upper works that illuminated the whole harbor. Of three hundred and fifty-three men in the ship's company only forty-eight escaped unhurt, and the roll-call of the dead in the end reached two hun- dred and sixty-six. This terrible event was the immediate cause of the war. It intensified the feeling of the people and of their representatives in Congress to such an extent that no other solution of the difficulty now seemed possible. The popular indignation was increased when the court of inquiry announced that, in its opinion, "the Maine was destroyed by a submarine mine." It was universally felt that the disaster was another instance ol Span- ish malignity, the war-fever redoubled, and Congress unani- '^war™ mously voted an appropriation of $50,000,000 " for the national defense." The War and Navy Departments hummed with the activity of recruiting, the preparations of vessels and coast defenses, and the purchase of war material and vessels at home, while agents were sent to Europe to 5 oo AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN procure all the warships that could be purchased. Unlimited capital was at their command, and the question of price was not an obstacle. When hostilities impended the United States was unprepared for war, but by amazing- activity, energy and skill the preparations were pushed and com- pleted with a rapidity that approached the marvelous. Negotiations went on, it is true, but they were principally with the purpose of gaining time to permit American citizens to leave Cuba. Con- sul-general Lee left Havana on April nth, and on the same day President McKinley sent a message to Congress in which he described in earnest terms the situation in Cuba, reciting the dreadful results of Weyler's heart- less policy and asking for power to intervene. " In the name of humanity, in the name of civilization," he said, " the war in Cuba must stop." On April 1 8th, Congress responded with a series of resolutions that were vir- tually a declaration of war, and on the 2 2d war actually began, the fleet which had gathered at Key West being despatched to Cuba with orders to blockade Havana and some other leading ports. On the following day a call was issued for 125,000 volunteers to serve in the coming conflict. While it seems important to give the preliminary events that led to the war, we do not propose to tell the story of the war itself, but to confine our- selves to a description of its more important incidents, in accordance with the plan of this work. It may be said here, however, that the war was in great part a naval one, and gave rise to naval operations of intense interest and great importance, so that this chapter will fitly round out the preceding one, which deals with the progress in naval warfare during the century. We there described the contests of ironclad ships during the Civil War. In other chapters have been told the stories of the fight between Austrian and Italian ironclads at the battle of Lissa and of the Japanese and Chinese Progress in ironclad fleets at the battle of the Yalu. We have now to tell Naval War. the final events in naval warfare of the century, the epoch- making contest in Manila Bay, and the desperate flight and fight off Santiago harbor. If these examples of ocean warfare be contrasted with those between the Constellation and the French frigates L Insurgente and Vengecmce a century before, they will place in striking clearness the immense advance in naval warfare within the hundred years involved. Of these two events the greatest was that which took place in Manila Bay. War, it must be remembered, is governed by a different system of ethics from that operative in peace. Though inhumanity in Cuba was the cause of the war, to strike the enemy wherever he could be found was the demand of prudence and military science. Spain had an important posses- THE UNITED STATES PEACE COMMISSIONERS OF THE SPANISH WAR. Appointed September g, iSq8. Met Spanish Commissioners at Paris, October ist. Treaty of Peace signed by the Con missioners at Paris, December ioth. Ratified by the United States Senate at Washington, February 6, 1899. AM ERIC. 1\S C \ )NFL /( T U 7 III SI '.UN 503 sion in the eastern seas, the Philippine Islands, off the southeastern coast of Asia. There, in the bay of Manila, near the large city of that name, lay a Spanish fleet, which, if left unmolested, might seek our Pacific Coast and 1 1 'in- tuit terrible depredations. In the harbor of I long Kong la) , r a • 1 1 /- 1 i '■> T ,c Mission of squadron of American war-vessels under Commodore Dewey. Dewey Prudence dictated but one course under the circumstano There was flashed to Dewey under sea and over land the telegraphic mes- sage to "find the Spanish fleet and capture or destroy it." How Dewey obeyed this order is the circumstance with which we are now concerned. He lost no time. Leaving port in China on April 27th. he arrived off the entrance to Manila Bay on the night of the 30th. An island lay in the neck of the bay, with well-manned batteries on its shores. It was probable that torpedoes had been planted in the channel. Put George Dewey had been a pupil of Farragut in the Civil War, and was inspired now Dewey with the spirit of that hero's famous order, " Damn the tor- lintered pedoes! Follow me !" Past Corregidor Island in the dark- Mani,a IJay ness glided the great ships, several of them being out of range of its batteries before the alarm was taken. Then some shots were find, but the return fire from the squadron silenced the Spanish guns and the ships passed safely into Manila Bay. About five o'clock on the morning of May 1st Dewey's fleet swept in battle-line past the front of the city of Manila, and soon after rounded up in face of the Spanish fleet, which extended across the mouth of Bakoor Bay, within which lay the naval station of Cavite. There were ten <>t the Spanish ships in all, with shore batteries to add to their defensive force, while the effective American ships consisted of six, the cruisers Olympia, Baltimore, Raleigh, Boston, and the gunboats Petrel and Concord. The Spaniards had two large and four small cruisers, three gunboats and an armed transport. They were not equal in size or weight of metal to the American vessels, but their fixed position, their protection by shore batteries, and the acquaintance of their officers with e Opposing the waters in which they la}- gave them an important advan- tage over the Americans, which was added to by their possession of tor] boats and by the mines which they had planted in the track of an attacking fleet. Dewey and his men were, in fact, in a position of great peril, and if the Spaniards knew how to work their guns none ol them might leave that bay alive. Fortunately for them the Spaniards did not know how to work their stains. On swept the gallant squadron of assault, the Olympia leading with Dewey on the bridge. He had a look-out place protected by steel armor, 504 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN but he preferred to stand in the open and dare all peril from the Spanish guns. The mines were there. As the flagship drove onward two of them exploded in her path. Luckily the nervous hands at the electric wires set them off too soon. Heedless of such perils as this Dewey pursued his course, and at 5.40 a.m. opened fire, followed by the remainder of his ships. Th D di From that moment the fire was deadly and continuous, the Work of the boom of the great guns seconded by the rattle of the rapid fire American pieces until the air seemed full of the roar of ordnance. The Spanish returned as hot a fire, but by no means so effective. While most of their shot were wasted on the waves, the bulk of those from the American ships found a goal, and death and destruction reigned in the Spanish ships while their opponents moved on almost unharmed. Back and forth across the Spanish lines swept Dewey's ships, five times in all, at first at 5,000 yards distance, then drawing in to a distance of 2,000 yards. And during all this time the great guns roared their message and the small guns poured out their fiery hail, rending the Spanish hulls and carrying death to their crews, while the flames that shot up from their decks told that another element of destruction was at work. Early in the fight two torpedo boats darted out towards the Olympia, but were met with a torrent of fire that sent one to the bottom and drove the other hastily to the beach. Then, with an instinct of despera- tion, Admiral Montojo drove gallantly out in his flagship, the Reina Chris- The Fate of the tina, with the purpose of engaging the Olympia at shorter Spanish Flag- range. At once Dewey turned his entire battery upon her, and poured in shot and shell at such a frightful rate that the Spaniard hastily turned and fled for the shelter of Bakoor Bay. But the deadly baptism of fire with which she had been met proved the end of her career. Swept from stern to stem by shells as she fled, she burst into flames, which continued to burn until she sank to a muddy death. Meanwhile the Spanish ships and batteries returned the fire vigorously, but with singular lack of effect. While they were being riddled and sunk, the American ships escaped almost unhurt, and while hundreds of The Destruction tne ' r crews fell dead or wounded, not an American -was of the Spanish killed and seven men alone were slightly wounded. What little skill in aiming the Spaniards possessed was utterly dis- concerted by the incessant and deadly American fire, and their balls and shells screamed uselessly through the air to plunge into the waves. At the hour of 7.35 Dewey withdrew from the fight, that he might see how all things stood on his ships and give the men an interval of rest and an opportunity for breakfast. He knew very well that the Spaniards must . \MERK : VS Ci WFL/CT Willi Sl>. UN 505 await his return. Fight and flight were alike taken out of them. When he came back to the attack, shortly after 1 1 o'clock, nearly all the Spanish ships were in flames and some rested on the bottom of the bay. For an hour longer the firing continued on both sides. At the end of that time the batteries were silenced and the ships sunk, burned, and deserted. The great battle was at an end, and Dewey had made himself the hero of the war. When the news of the result reached Europe, the naval [lowers of the nations heard with utter astonishment of the fighting prowess and skill of the Yankees. Anything so complete in the way of a naval victory the century had not seen before, and it was everywhere recognized that a new power had to be dealt with in the future counsels of the nations. Americans, previously looked upon almost with contempt from a mili- Howthe Nation tary point of view, suddenly won respect, and Dewey took Rewarded rank among the great ocean fighters of the century. His ewey nation hastened to honor him with the title of rear-admiral, and finally with that of admiral, its highest naval dignity, and on his return home in autumn of the following year he was received with an ovation such as few Americans had ever been given before. To his fellow citizens he was one of the chief of their heroes, and they could not do him honor enough. The second notable naval event of which we have spoken took place off the harbor of Santiago, a city on the southern coast of Cuba, at a date after that just described. The finest fleet possessed by Spain, that under the command of Admiral Cervera, consisted of four cruisers, the Christobal Colon, plated with a complete belt of 6-inch nickel steel, and with a deck armor of steel 2 to 6 inches thick , ami the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo, and the Infanta Maria- Teresa, each of 6890 tons, with 10- to 12-inch armor and power- The Fleet of ful armament. They were all of high speed, and were the Admiral Cer- only vessels of which any dread was felt in the United States. With them were three torpedo boats, the Tenor, the Furor and the Tin/on, among the best of their class, and dangerous enemies to deal with. This (leet lay in the Cape Verde Islands at the opening of the war. From there, in May, it set sail, causing doubt and dread in American coast cities while its destination remained unknown, and yielding relief when the news came that it had reached some of the lower islands of the West Indies. On May 21st it was learned that the dreaded squadron had reached Santiago and was safely at anchor in its harbor. The Atlantic fleet of the United States meanwhile had been partly engaged in blockading the Cuban ports, partly in searching for Cervera's 38 506 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN fleet, and there was a decided sensation of relief when the tidings from Santiago were confirmed. Thither from all quarters the great ships of the The Spanish ^ eet hastened at full speed, battleships, cruisers, monitors, gun- Fleet at San- boats, and craft of other kinds, and soon they hung like grim birds of war off the harbor's mouth, determined that the Spanish fleet should never leave that place of refuge except to meet destruction. To the battleships of the fleet was soon added the Oregon, which had made an admirable journey of many thousand miles around the continent of South America, and barely touched land in Florida before it was off again to take part in the great blockade. The story that follows is, if given in all its details, a long one, but we must confine ourselves to its salient points. Admiral Sampson, in command of the American fleet, at first sought to lock up the Spaniards in their harbor of refuge, by sinking a coaler, the Merrimac, in the narrow channel of Santiago Bay. The work was gallantly and ably done by Lieutenant Hob- The Sinking of son an( ^ ms daring crew, but proved a failure through causes the"Merri- beyond his control. The Merrimac sank lengthwise in the channel, and the passage remained open. This being recog- nized, the most vigilant watch was kept up, battle-ships, cruisers, and gun- boats lying off the harbor's mouth in a wide semicircle, with their lookouts ever closely on the watch. On the morning of Sunday, July 3d, the long-looked for alarm came, in a yell from the sentinel on the Brooklyn, "There is a big ship coming out of the harbor !" A like alarm was given on other ships, and Commodore Schley, on the Brooklyn, hastened to signal the fleet and to give the order, " Clear ship for action." Almost in an instant the lazily swinging fleet awoke to life and activity, and the men sprang from their listless Sunday rest into the most enthusiastic readiness for duty. Admiral Sampson, unfortunately for him, was absent, having gone up the coast in the cruiser New York, and the direction of affairs fell to Com- modore Schley. He was capable of meeting the emergency. It was soon The Flight of evident that Cervera's fleet was coming out, the flagship, the Spanish Bifanta Maria Teresa, in the lead, the others following. On Sh,ps clearing the harbor headland they turned west, and the Amer- icans at once set out in pursuit, firing as they went. " Full speed ahead ; open fire, and don't waste a shot," shouted Schley. The Oregon had already opened fire from her great 13-inch guns, and was followed by the battleships Texas, Indiana, and Iowa. The Brooklyn joined in with her 8- and 5-inch batteries, and soon a rain of shells was pouring upon the devoted fugitive ships. The Maria Teresa ran towards the Bi-ooklyn as if with AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN 507 intention to ram her, but the danger was avoided by a quick swerve of the helm, and Cervera's flagship turned again and sped away in flight. The fugitive ships soon found them ielves the centre of the most terrific fire any war vessels had ever endured, with the exception of AHotchase those at Manila. Big guns and little guns joined in the fright- Down the ful concert, shot after shot telling, while the response of the Cuban Coast Spaniards was little more effective than that of their compatriots in Manila Bay. One man killed on the Brooklyn was the sole loss of life on the American side, while the unfortunate Spaniards were swept down by hun- dreds. The first ship to succumb to this hail of shells was the Mafia Teresa, which quickly burst into flames, and soon alter ran ashore. Then the Brooklyn, Oregon and Indiana concentrated their lire on the Almirante Oquendo, which was similarly beached in flames. Next the Vizcaya drew abeam of the Iowa, which turned its fire from the Oquendo to this new quarry, pour- rng in shells that tore great rents in her side, while the Vizcaya tired back hotly but uneffectively. As the Spaniard drew ahead of the •, the fire of the Oregon and Texas reached her. and ™ e Fate .° f | th f ' s Spanish fleet an 8-inch shell from the Brooklyn raked her fore and aft. The next moment a great shell exploded in her interior, killing eight}- men. She was clearly out of the race, and ran in despair for the beach. Meanwhile the Christobal Colon was running at great speed along the beach, pursued by the American ships. Of these the Oregon and Brooklyn alone were able to keep within hopeful distance. For an hour the chase kept up, then the Oregon tried a 13-inch shell, which struck the water close astern of the Colon, four miles away. Another was tried and reached its mark. Soon after a shell from the Brooklyn pierced the Colon at the top of her armor belt. Then she too gave up and ran for the beach, Admiral Sampson, on the New York, reaching the scene in time only to receive the surrender of her officers. Perhaps the most telling work of the day was that done by the little Gloucester, a vacht turned into a gunboat, which was commanded by Richard Wainwright, one of the surviving officers of the The " Glouces- Maine. Two torpedo-boat destroyers had followed the Span- ter"and Her ish ships from the harbor, and these were gallantly attacked and sunk by Wainwright in his little craft, thus finally disposing of the second Spanish fleet with which the Yankees came into contact. The annals of naval history record no more complete destruction of an enemy's fleet than in the two cases we have described, and never has such 5 o8 AMERICA'S CONFLICT WITH SPAIN work been done with so little loss — only one man being killed and a few wounded in both American fleets. It taught the world a new The Lesson of j esson j n tne art of naval warfare, and admonished the the War nations that the United States was a power to be gravely con- sidered in the future in any question of war. We have told the only incidents of this short war with which we are concerned. In the conflict on land there was nothing of special character. An American army landed near Santiago and fought its fight to a quick finish in the capture of that city; and a similar story is to be told of Manila; while the attempted conquest of Porto Rico was cut short in the middle by the signing of a peace protocol. In December a treaty of peace was signed in which Spain abandoned her colonies of Cuba and Porto Rico, the latter being ceded to the United States, while the Philippine Islands, the scene of Dewey's great victory, were likewise ceded to this country. The latter, however, was not to the pleasure of the island people, who took up arms to fieht for freedom from the dominion of the whites. Brief as was the war, it had the effect of radically changing the posi- tion of the United States, which for the first time in its history became a „ ., . x colonial power, and acquired an interest in that troublesome The United r l States Made Eastern Question which reached, at the end of the century, a Colonial a highly critical stage. Into what complication this new political relation is likely to lead the republic of the West it is impossible to say, but this country will certainly play its part in the shaping of the future destiny of the East. CHAPTER XXXV The Dominion of Canada. OCCUPYING the northern section of the western hemisphere lies Great Britain's most. extended colony, the vast Dominion of Canada, which covers an immense area of the earth's surface, surpassing that of the United States, and nearly equal to the whole of Europe. Its population, however, is not in accordance with its dimensions, being less than 5,000,000, while the hleak and inhospitable character of The Area and much the greater part of its area is likely to debar it from Population of ever having any other than a scanty nomad population, fur animals being its principal useful product. It is, however, always unsafe to predict. The recent discovery of gold in a part of this region, that traversed by the Klondike River, has brought miners by the thousands to that wintry realm, and it would be very unwise to declare that the remainder of the great northern region contains no treasures for the craving hands of man. It is the development of Canada during the nineteenth century with which we are here concerned, and we must confine ourselves, as in the case of the other countries treated, to its salient points, those upon which the problem of its progress turns. First settled by the French in the seven- teenth century, this country came under British control in 1703, as a result of the great struggle between the two active colonizing powers for domi- nion in America. The outcome of this conquest is the fact . Canada's Early that Canada, like the other colonies of Great Britain, possi History a large alien population, in this case of French origin ; and it may further be said that the conflict between EngHnd and France in America is not yet at an end. since political warfare, varied by an occasional act of open rebellion, has been maintained throughout the century by the French Canadians. The revolution of 1775 in the colonies to the south failed to gain adhe- rents in Canada, which remained loyal to Great Britain and repelled every attempt to invade its territory. It met invasion in the war of 1812 in the same spirit, and despite the fact that there has long been a party favoring 5°9 5 io THE DOMINION OF CANADA annexation to the United States, the Canadians as a whole are to-day among the most loyal colonial subjects of the home government of Great Britain. At the opening of the nineteenth century the population of Canada was small, and its resources were only slightly developed. Its people did not reach the million mark until about 1840, though since then the tide of immigration has flowed thither with considerable strength and the popula- tion has grown with some rapidity. In 1 791 the original province of Quebec was divided into Upper and Lower Canada, a political separation which by no means gave satisfaction, but led to severe political conflicts. As a result an act of union took place, the provinces being reunited in 1S40. Upper Canada, at the opening of the century, was only slightly devel- oped, the country being a vast forest, without towns, without roads, and practically shut out from the remainder of the world. The Lower Canada s P arse population endured much suffering, which, in 1788, deepened into a destructive famine, long remembered as a terrible visitation. But it began to grow with the new century, numbers crossed the Niagara River from the States to the fertile lands beyond, immigrants crossed the waters from Great Britain and France, Toronto was made the capital city, and the population of the province soon rose to 30,000 in number. Lower Canada, however, with its old cities of Quebec and Montreal, and its flourishing settlements along the St. Lawrence River, continued the most populous section of the country, though its people were almost exclusively of French origin. The strength of the British population lay in the upper province. These historical particulars are desirable as a statement of the position and relations of Canada at the opening of the nineteenth century, though in the succeeding history of the country only an occasional event occurred of sufficiently striking character to fit into our plan. We have already detailed the events of the war or 18 12 on the Canada frontier, in which the capture and burning of York (now Toronto) served as an excuse for the subsequent indefensible burning of Washington by the British. Battles were fought on Canadian soil in 18 14 at Chippewa and Lundy's Lane — the latter the bloodiest battle of the war. But though the Ameri- The War of !8i2 .... . & , cans were victorious in these engagements, they soon after withdrew from Canada — to which they have never since returned in a hostile way. Many political complications have arisen between the two countries, and at times sharp words have been spoken, but all the questions have been amicably settled and the two countries remain fairly good friends, with only such disputes as too close neighborhood is apt to provoke. THE DOMINION OF CANADA 5 „ The leader of public opinion in Canada during the three years' struggle with the United States was a clergyman of the English church John Strachan, rector of York. Though a clergyman of the English establish- ment, Strachan was by birth a Scotchman, and a decidedly pugnacious and determined character, a man of courage, persistence, cunning and political skill, whose ambition drove him forward, until, with his party, , . „. ' . John Strachan he formed in 1820 what was long known as the " Family and the Compact," which for years ruled the country in an autocratic Family Com- way. The governor and council were the tools of Strachan and his allies ; they filled the public offices with their favorites, and went so far as to drive Robert Gourlay, an honest and capable business man, from the country, because he was so presumptuous as to reflect on the character of their administration. In 1824 their power was for a time overturned. William Lyon Mackenzie, a Scotchman of impetuous disposition, started the Colonial Idvocate newspaper, which opposed the "Compact" so vigorously as to arou ;e the hatred of its adherents. The office of the .Idvocate was gutted by a mob, but Mackenzie recovered large damages, an opposition Assembly was elected, and the Family Compact fell from power. Strachan however, was only temporarily defeated. A religious quarrel arose which lasted for thirty years, and in which he played the leading A q^^™* part. This turned upon the use of what was known as the "clergy reserve fund," an allotment of one-seventh of the crown lands for the support of a Protestant clergy. A portion of this fund was demanded by a Scotch Presbyterian congregation, but Strachan, who had a controlling voice in its disposition, claimed it all for the English Established Church, and entered into this new fight with all his old energy. He gained strong sup- port, was promoted to the dignity of a bishop, founded King's College from part of the fund, and, in 1853 obtained a transfer of the fund — which had been placed at the disposal of the British Parliament for religious purposes — to Canada. The controversy was finally settled in 1854. an act being passed which secured their life interests to the clergy already enjoying them, while the remainder of the fund was devoted to public education. Thus for forty years and more John Strachan made himself the most prominent and powerful figure in Upper Canada. Meanwhile a strained condition of affairs existed in Lower Canada, due to the rivalry and struggle for power of the inhabitants of French ami British descent. The strife became so intense as in 1837 to lead to open rebellion. The great supremancy of the French in numbers gave them a decided majority in the Assembly, and for years Louis Papineau was elected by ^2 THE DOMINION OF CANADA them speaker of that body, though bitterly opposed by the British popula- tion. When Lord Dalhousie, the governor-general, refused to recognize him in this position, sufficient influence was brought to bear upon the home u c -„~ o-overnment to have the autocratic lord transferred to India, t-rench suprem- & acy in Lower and the French retained their control of the Assembly. A Canada reform in the government of the province was recommended by a committe of the British Parliament, which resulted in 1832 in giving the Assembly control of the local finances. This gave the French Canadians a perilous power, and they endeavored to rid themselves of the English judges and civil officials by a process of financial starvation. Salaries were unpaid and the government was blocked through lack of funds. The sharpness of the strife was added to by resolu- tions in the British Parliament which condemned the Canadian legislature and supported the council — an arbitrary body under the governor's control, and in the British interest. The strife eventually deepened into revolt. Both provinces vigorously demanded that the council should be chosen by the votes of the people, and thus truly represent the country. Lower Canada became violently excited on this question ; funds known as " Papineau tribute " were collected ; the liberty cap was worn ; imported goods were replaced by homespun clothes, and military training soon began. These movements were followed by hostile acts, the English "Constitutionalists" and the French " Sons of Liberty " coming into warlike contact. But Sir John Colborne, the governor, was a man of energy and decision, and quickly brought the The Revolt of incipient rebellion to an end. The insurgents were attacked 1837 and dispersed wherever they showed themselves, Dr. Nelson, one of their leaders, was captured, and Papineau, the head of the revolt, was obliged to escape across the border. This movement in Lower Canada was accompanied by a similar revolt in Uppei Canada under the leadership of William Lyon Mackenzie, the former opponent of the Family Compact. He, as a leader of the opposition forces, had continued bitterly to oppose the oligarchy which controlled Canadian affairs. Three times he was elected to the Assembly of Upper Canada, and three times expelled by the tyrannical majority. The law officers of Great Britain pronounced his expulsion illegal, and he was re- elected by a large majority, but the arbitrary Assembly again refused to admit him. The result of this unlawful action was to make him highly popular, he was elected the first mayor of Toronto, and the struggle went on more bitterly than ever. An unlucky expression he had used — " The baneful THE DOMINION OF CANADA 513 domination of the mother country" — was now quoted against him as evidence of disloyalty, and Mackenzie, exasperated by the acts of his enemies, lost his self-control and entered into rebellion, lie made a com- pact with Louis Papineau to head a rising in Toronto on the same day with the insurgent rising in Montreal. In furtherance ^ c L e 1, z . ies 3 & & _ Rebellion of this he proclaimed a "Provisional Government of the State of Upper Canada," gathered a force of eight hundred men, and threatened Toronto with capture. But hesitation was fatal to his cause, his men were attacked and dispersed, and he was forced to flee. On Navy Island he flung the flag of rebellion to the breeze, but he had lost his one opportunity and the flag soon went down. Lack of prudence and patience had put an end to a promising political career. The suppression of this rebellion was followed in 1840 by the Act of Union of the two provinces already mentioned. The population now b to grow with considerable rapidity. From about 1,100,000 in 1S40, it grew to nearly 2,000,000 in 1850, and 2,500.000 in i860. Anil the (jrowth of people were spreading out widely northward and westward, Population settling new lands, and stretching far towards the Pacific an n Ub ry border. The industries of Canada, which had been greatly depressed by the adoption of free trade in Great Britain, were revived by a treaty of reciprocity in trade with the United States, and prosperity came upon the country in a flood. But political troubles were by no means at an end, and much irritation arose from acts of citizens of the United States during the Civil War. Refugees and conspirators from the south sought the Canadian cities, and endeavored to involve the two countries in hostile relations. Fenian raids were attempted from the United States, and there was much alarm, though nothing of importance arose from the disturbed condition of affairs. In time the confederation which existed between the two larger pro- vinces of Canada became too narrow to serve the purposes of the entire colony. The maritime provinces began to discuss the question of local federation, and it was finally proposed to unite all British North America into one general union. This was done in 1S67, the British Parliament passing an act which created the "Dominion ol Canada." organization of The new confederation included Ontario (Upper Canada), the Dominion Quebec (Lower Canada), New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. ° ana a Four years later Manitoba and British Columbia were included, and Prince Edward's Island in 1S74. A parliament was formed consisting of a Senate of life members chosen by the prime minister and an Assembly elected by the people. The formation of the dominion was soon followed by trouble. 514 THE DOMINION OF CANADA this time arising in the Indian country, over which the Canadian people had rapidly extended their authority. Louis Riel, son of the leader of the Metes (half-breed) Indians, headed a rebellion in 1869 and established a provisional orovernmei.t ^t Fort Garry. In the following- year The Riel Revolts . the revolt collapsed on the arrival of General Wolseley at this fort. Twice in later years Riel attempted rebellion, the second time in 18S5. He was finally captured and executed, and the rebellious senti- ment vanished with his death. Shortly after the formation of the dominion, Sir John Macdonald became a conspicuous figure in Canadian politics and for many years served as prime minister of the country. He took part in the treaty of Washing- ton, which referred to arbitration of the Alabama claim and other questions between Great Britain and the United States, and came near defeat in con- sequence, since the parts of the treaty which referred to Canada were very unpopular in that country. He was defeated in 1873 on the question of the Canadian Pacific Railway, concerning which a great scandal had arisen, with suspicion of wholesale bribery. In 1878 Macdonald returned to the premiership, which he continued to hold until his death in 1891. Despite the scandal attending the Pacific Railway bill, that enterprise was pushed forward with much energy, and, after desperate financial strug- gles, was completed in 1886. It need scarcely be said that it has since played a highly important part in the development of Canada. Under the The Canadian liberal ministry of Alexander Mackenzie (1873-78) the coun- Pacific Rail- try prospered greatly for a time, but a period of financia! stringency followed, and the people demanded commerical pro- tection. This was given by the Conservatives, under Macdonald, in 1879, a protective tariff being adopted as a measure of defence against the commer- ical enterprise of the United States. The result was a rapid revival of trade and wide-spread prosperity. In 1880, by an act of the British Parliament, the control of all the British possessions in Canada — except Newfoundland, which had not joined the Union — was transferred to the Dominion Parlia-' ment, and the country became in large measure an independent nation. The important questions which have since that time arisen in Canada have had largely to do with its relations to the United States and its people. One of the most troublesome of these has been the question of the fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland and the coasts of Tl !f.^. ,s ?*? Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. For years the problem Difficulties _ J 1 of the rights of American fishermen on the Canadian coast excited controversy. In 1877 the Halifax Fishery Commission awarded THE DOMINION OF CANADA 5 r 5 $5,500,000 to Great Britain, to pay for the privileges granted to the United States, and in 1888 a treaty was signed for the settlement of this vexa- tious question. 'Idle temporary removal of this difficulty was followed by the develop- ment of a still more serious fishery controversy between the two countries, that relating to the fur-seal fishery of Alaska. The fur-seals, frequenting the Pribylof Islands of the Bering Sea for breeding purposes, belonged to the United States, which rented out the right of killing seals on these islands to the Alaska Commercial Company, whose killing privileges were restricted to 100,000 yearly. But these seals had a wide, range of excursion at sea, and Canadian fishermen began to prey upon them in the open waters. These depredations, beginning in 1886, reduced the herds by [890 to such an extent that the Alaska Company could secure J* " r ."' < "' only 21,000 skins in that year. There was serious danger of the extermination of the animals, and the United States took active measures to prevent poaching on its preserves, as it regarded the work of the Canadians. The controversy on this question became strenuous as time went on, and it was seriously thought at one time that the easiest way out of the difficulty would be to kill all the seals at once and so put an end to the problem. Finally the two nations concerned agreed to submit the question to arbitration, and a decision was rendered in 1 tablishing a "protected zone" of sixty miles around the Pribylof Islands. Unfortunately the ocean range of the seals is much wider than this, and the diminution of the herd has still gfone on. The difficulty, therefore, remains unsettl Sir fohn Macdonald died in (891 and Sir John S. D. Th >n, a man of marked ability, became premier in 1892. He lived, however, only until 1894 and for a brief interval Sir Charles Tupper filled the office. before the end of the year he resigned, and Sir Wilfred Laurier became premier, he being the first French Canadian to hold that high office. The most important questions rising under his administration were those springing from the discovery of gold >> 1 the Klondike River. This find was made in the autumn of 1896, and as reports quickly spread y\oi\&\\L of the richness of the diggings, a rush of miners, mainly Americans, took place during the following year. But it was quickly perceived that the region was not in Alaska, as at first supposed, but in Canadian territory, and mining laws were impose. 1 by the Canadian govern- ment, including heavy fees and royalties, which were bitterly objected to by the American miners. But the chief question arising from the find was that concerning the true boundary between the two countries. This had never been clearly 5I 6 THE DOMINION OF CANADA decided upon for the southern section of Alaska, and the natural desire of Canada to obtain an ocean outing for the new gold district, which was being ( very rapidly settled, soon stirred up a very active controversy. The claim of Russia, transferred by purchase to the United States, called for a strip of land ten leagues wide from the coast backward. This would have been definite enough had it been quite clear what constituted the coast. The sea line of Alaska is marked by deep indentations, some of which are open to question as to whether they should be considered oceanic or inland waters. Such a one is Lynn Canal, which affords the natural waterway to the mountain passes leading to the upper Yukon, by whose waters the gold district can be most easily reached. This oun ary inlet, running sixty miles into the land, is less than six miles Question . . wide at its mouth ; and while the United States claimed that it was part of the open sea, the Canadian government looked upon it as territorial water, and demanded that the coast line should be drawn across its mouth. This would have given Canada control of its upper waters and the access to the sea from the Klondike region over its own territory which it so urgently needed. It would also have given it pos- session of Dyea and Skagua, two mining towns built and peopled by Americans at the head of the canal, and whose people would have bitterly opposed being made citizens of Canada. As will be perceived from the above statement a number of interna- tional questions had arisen between the United States and Canada, of which only the most urgent have here been mentioned. In 1898 an earnest attempt was made to adjust these annoying problems, by the appointment of an International Commission, whose sessions began in the city of Quebec, August 23, 1898. On the part of Great Britain and Canada the member- An interna. sm P consisted of Lord Herschell, ex-Lord Chancellor of tional Com- England, chairman, Sir Wilfred Laurier, the Premier of mission Canada, Sir Richard J. Cartwright, Minister of Trade and Commerce, Sir Louis H. Davies, Minister of Marine and Fisheries, John Charlton, M. P., and Sir James T. Winter, Premier of Newfoundland. The American members were Charles W. Fairbanks, United States Senator from Indiana, chairman, George Gray, Senator from Delaware, Nelson Dingley, Representative from Maine, John W. Foster, former Secretary of State and ex-Minister to Spain, Russia and Mexico, John A. Kasson, former Minister to Germany and Austria, and T. Jefferson Coolidge, former Min- ister to France. Senator Gray resigned in September, to take part in the Peace Commission on the Spanish War, and was succeeded by Senator Charles J. Faulkner, of West Virginia. THE DOMINION OF CANADA 517 The principal questions that came before this Commission for con- sideration were the following : 'The adjustment of the difficulties concern- ing the Atlantic and Pacific coast fisheries and those still arising in reference to the fur-seals; the establishment of a fixed boundary between Alaska and Canada; provision for the transit of merchandise to or from either country across territory of the other, or to be delivered at points in either country beyond the frontier; the questions of »t ultfe ""^ labor laws and mining rights affecting the subjects ol either country within the territory of the other; a mutually satisfactory readjust- ment of customs duties; an understanding concerning the placing of war vessels on the great lakes ; arrangements to define and mark the frontier line; provision for the conveyance of accused persons by officers of one country through the territory of the other; and reciprocity in wrecking and salvage rights. As will be perceived from this list of subjects to be considered, the High Commission had abundance of work mapped out for it. While some of the questions were of minor importance and might be settled with comparative ease, others were of high significance and likely to prove very difficult to adjust. In fact, they proved beyond the powers of the commis- sion. Adjourning from Quebec to meet in Washington in The Failure of November, the members continued in session there for several the Coinmis- months longer, but adjourned finally in the spring of 1899 with- out having been able to come to a decision on the difficult matters involved. Several of these questions, indeed, were of the most complex and vexatious character, particularly that relating to the fisheries, which had been a source of trouble and conflict through most of the century. As respects the transport of goods of one country over the territory of the other, it is a matter of much importance to Canada, which sends great quantities of goods over United States territory for shipment abroad, six times more Canadian grain, for instance, going by way of Buffalo, than via Montreal and the St. Lawrence. The problem of reciprocal customs regulations is also one of much importance to Canada, which imports more merchandise from the United States than is sent by that Commerce of country to all the remainder of the American Continent, Canada with amounting in all to about $70,000,000 annually. In return the United its exports to the United States amount to about $50,000,000, the total commerce being of importance enough to call for special tariff regulations between the two countries. After the adjournment of the commission, efforts were made to adjust the boundary question, so far as Lynn Canal was concerned, through an 5i8 THE DOMINION OF CANADA understanding between the two governments. The United States, in con- sideration of the needs of Canada in the Klondike region, showed a disposi- tion to concede temporarily to that country a tidewater port in the Lynn Canal. But decided protests from commercial ports on the Pacific seaboard caused the withdrawal of the proposed concession. A temporary adjust- ment of the question was subsequently made, a line being drawn by officials of the two countries which followed the mountian summits and cut off Canada from access to the sea except across United States territory. The progress of Canada during the past quarter of a century has been very great, while her population has increased in that period by nearly one- half. Railways have spread like a network over the rich agricultural terri- tory along the southern border land of the dominion, from Railway Prog- , , . . , , , , , ress in Canada ocean to ocean, and are now pushing into the deep torest land and rich mineral regions of the interior and the northwest, their total length in 1899 being over 17,000 miles, a large mileage for a population of 5.000,000. The most recent railway projected is one to the Klondike region, which already has a large population, and possesses in Dawson City a thriving and enterprising headquarters of the mining region. Canada has also been active in canal building, and has now under consider- ation a project of the highest importance, namely, the excavation of a ship- canal from Lake Huron to the St. Lawrence. This great enterprise, if carried into effect, will shorten the distance of commercial navigation by hundreds of miles and be of untold advantage to the Canadian common- wealth. It is proposed also to deepen the existing canals, so as to permit the conveyance of ocean freight without breaking bulk. In manufacturing industry almost every branch of production is to be found, the progressive enterprise of the people of the Dominion being great, and a large proportion of the goods they need being Manufacturing ma( j e at home. The best evidence of the enterprise of Enterprise . . Canada in manufacture is shown by the fact that she exports many thousand dollars worth of goods annually more than she buys — Eng- land being her largest customer and the United States second on the list. In addition to her manufactured products, Canada is actively agricultural, and possesses vast natural wealth in the products of her rich mines, vast The Yield of forests and prolific fisheries. The most recent of these sources Precious of wealth are her mines of the precious metals, which yielded over $6,000,000 in gold and $7,000,000 in silver in 1897, shortly after the discovery of the Klondike deposits. The yield of those has since very greatly increased. THE DOMINION OF CANADA 519 Not only is the outside world largely ignorant of the importance of Canada, but few of her own people realize the greatness of the country they possess. Its area of more than three and one-half millions of square miles — one-sixteenth of the entire land surface of the earth — is great enough to include an immense variety of natural conditions and products This area constitutes forty per cent, of the far extended British empire, while its richness of soil and resources in forest and mineral wealth are as yet almost untouched, and its promise of future yield is immense. The dimensions of the dominion guarantee a great variety of natural attractions. There are vast grass-covered plains, thousands of square miles of untouched forest lands, multitudes of lakes and rivers, great and small, and Extent and Re- mountains of the wildest and grandest character, whose sources of the natural beaut)- equals that of the far-lamed Alpine peaks. Dominion In fact, the Canadian Pacific Railway is becoming a route "I pilgrimage for the lovers of the beautiful and sublime, its mountain scenery being un- rivaled upon the continent. The population of Canada varies in character according to location. In Ontario the people are generally English. In Quebec, and many other portions of what was formerly called Lower Canada, the original settlers were French, and their descendants are still in the majority and retain many of the habits and customs of their mother country- so much so, in fact, that, though England has ruled the land for about one hundred and fifty years, the French language is still almost exclusively spoken. Even in the cities of Montreal and Quebec the prevalence of the language makes the visitor from Toronto feel that he is in a foreign city. In the west, until a few years ago, the prevailing population was the original Indian and the half-breed. But this element, though still numerous, is fast being swallowed up or hidden by the throng of immigrants, who are now pouring into that vast and resourceful region. These immigrants, unlike those of the older eastern provinces, are made up of all The Character of the nationalities of northern Europe, the British Isles, however, the Canadian being well represented. Out of this mixture a new people, combining the good and progressive elements of various nations, is springing up. In this respect the Canadians of the northwest are much like the inhabitants of the northwestern United States. Population at present is densest on the southern borders of the country, alone the Great Lakes and the shores of the St. Lawrence. The interior is very sparsely settled, and as the latitude increases the cold of winter, except where the country is warmed by the winds of the Pacific, becomes more intense, until, in the northern part of the dominion, it is practically impossible 520 THE DOMINION OF CANADA for the Caucasian race to live in comfort. Much of this unbroken wilderness is covered with gigantic forests, which make lumbering the chief industry of that section, as agriculture is of the lower latitudes. In fact, lumbering and agriculture are the chief industries of all sections except the sea-coasts, where fishing interests are of great importance, and certain portions of the great northwest, like the Yukon districts, where mining is predominant. On the whole, Canada has before it a great future, and what its political destiny will be no man can foresee. In several conditions the people of Canada, while preserving the general features of English society, are much more free and untrammeled. The caste system of Great Britain has gained little footing in this new land, where nearly every farmer is the owner of the soil which he tills, and the people have a feeling of independence unknown to the agricultural popula- tion of European countries. There has been great progress also in many social questions. The liquor traffic, for instance, is subject to the local option of restriction ; religious liberty prevails ; education is practically free and un- sectarian ; the franchise is enjoyed by all citizens ; members of the parliament are paid for their services ; and though the executive department of the government is under the control of a governor-general appointed by the queen, the laws of Canada are made by its own statesmen, and a state of practical independence prevails. Recognizing this, and respecting the liberty- loving spirit of the people, Great Britain is chary in interfering with any question of Canadian policy, or in any sense in attempting to limit the free- dom of her great Transatlantic Colony. RT. HON SIR JOHN A. MACDON U.D. G. C. B I Mil ister of Canada, 3878-189:. RT. HON. J. S. D. THOMPSON, K.C. M. G. Prime Minister of Canada. 1852-1804. RT. HON. SIR WII.FKII) LAURIER, Prime Minister of Canada, 1806. 'LLUSTRIOUS SONS OF CANADA SIR CHARLES TUPPER. DAVID LIVINGSTONE HENRY M. STANLEY. DR. FRITHIOF NANSEN. LIEUT. R. E. l'LAK\. GREAT EXPLORERS IN THE TROPICS AND ARCTICS. CHAPTER XXXVI. Livingstone, Stanley, Peary, Nansen and Other Great Discoverers and Explorers. AT the beginning of the nineteenth century, long as man had previously existed upon the earth, "much more than half its surface was unknown to the most civilized nations. Of the extensive continent of Africa, for instance, only the coast regions had been explored, while the vast inte- rior could fairly be described as the " Great Unknown." The immense con- tinent of Asia was known only in outline. With its main feature's men had some acquaintance, but its details were as little known as the mountains of the moon. With America men were little bet- l *" orance ° f the harth's ter acquainted than with Africa. The United States itself had 5urtace at been explored only as far west as the Mississippi, and that but theBegin- . , , n , , , , nins of the imperfectly. 1 he vast space between that great stream and century the Pacific almost wholly awaited discovery. The remainder of the continent was divided into national domains, which were thinly in- habited and very imperfectly known. Of the continental island of Australia only a few spots on the border had been visited, and still less was known of the broad region of the North Polar zone. At the end of the century a very different tale could be told. The hun- dred \ ears had been marked by an extraordinary activity in travel, adven- ture, and discovery; daring men had penetrated the most obscure recesses of continents and islands, climbed the most difficult moun- . , ., .... Great Activity tains, ventured among the most savage tribes, studied the of |- :xp | orers geographical features and natural productions ol a thousand in the Nine- resrions before unknown, and learned more about the condi- ° . tury tions of the earth than had been learned in a thousand years before. The work of the century has no parallel in history except the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when America was discovered and the East Indies were explored, and the horizon of human knowledge was im- mensely extended. The swell, his purpose being to settle anion-- the Makololos ami seek to convert to Christianity their great chief. He succeeded in reaching the tribe, but the death of Sebituane, shortly after his arrival, disanai his plans, and he was obliged to return. Hut before doing so he and Mr. Oswell made an exploration of several hundred miles to the northeast, their journey ending at the Zambesi, the great river of South Africa, which he here found flowing in a broad and noble current through the centre of the continent. The subsequent travels of Livingstone were performed more for purposes of exploration than for religious labors, though to the cnt) he 52 6 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS considered himself a missionary pioneer. Sending his family to England, he left Capetown in June, 1852, and reached Linyanti, the capital of the Makololo, in May, 1853, being received in royal style by the 'journeTfrom chief and his people, by whom he was greatly esteemed. He the Zambesi next ascended the Zambesi, in search of some healthy high to the West land for a missionary station. But everywhere he found the tsetse fly, an insect deadly to animals, and, annoyed by the ravages of this insect among- his cattle, he determined to leave that locality and enter upon the greatest journey ever yet undertaken in Africa, one through the unknown interior to the west coast. The start was made from Linyanti on November 11, 1853, the party ascending- the Leeba to Lake Dilolo, which was reached in February, 1854. Finally, on the 31st of May, they came to the coast town of St. Paul de Loanda, in Portuguese West Africa. Their long and dangerous journey had been attended by numberless hardships, and Livingstone reached the coast nearly worn out by fever, dysentery and semi-starvation. But nothing I could deter the indefatigable traveler. He set out again after a few months, reached Lake Dilolo on June 13, 1855, and Linyanti in September. After a brief interval of rest he left this place with a determination to follow the broad-flowing Zambesi to its mouth in the eastern sea. A fortnight after his start he made the most notable of his discoveries, the one with which his name is most intimately associated in popular The Discovery estimation, that of the great Victoria Falls of the Zambesi, of the Great a cataract which has no rival upon the earth except the still Victoria Falls m jcrhtier one of the Niagara. Here an immense cleft or fissure in the earth cuts directly across the channel of the river, which pours in an enormous flood down into the cavernous abyss, whence "the smoke of its torrent ascendeth forever." The country surrounding seems to be a great basin-shaped plateau, surrounded by a ring of mountains, the depression having probably at onetime been filled with an immense lake whose waters were drained off when the earth split asunder across its bed. On went the untiring traveler, and on May 20, 1856, he reached the east coast at the Portuguese town of Ouillimane, at the mouth of the Zam- besi, in a frightfully emaciated condition He had, in two and a half years of travel, performed one of the most remarkable journeys ever made up to The First Cross= tnat tUTie - First proceeding north from the Cape to Loanda, ing of the through twenty-five degrees of latitude, he had for the first time in history, crossed the continent of Africa from ocean to ocean, through as many degrees of longitude, while his discoveries in the geography and natural history of the region traversed had been immense. GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 527 Livingstone returned to England in the latter part of the year and was received with the highest enthusiasm, being welcomed as the first to break through that pall of darkness which had so long enveloped the interior of Africa. The Royal Geographical Society had already conferred upon him its highest token of honor, its gold medal, and now honors and compliments were showered upon him until the modest traveler was over- whelmed with the warmth of his reception. The desire to complete his work was strong upon him, and after pub- lishing an account of his travels, in a work of modest simplicity, he returned to Africa, reaching the mouth of the Zambesi in May, 1858. In 1859 his new career of discovery began in an exploration of the Shire, u v i n .r St one a northern affluent of the Zambesi, up which he journeyed to Discovers the great Lake Nyassa, another capital discovery. For several e years he was engaged in exploring the surrounding region and in furthering the interests of missionary enterprise among the natives. In one of his journeys his wife, who was his companion during this period of his travels, died, and in 1864 he returned home, worn out with his extraordinary labors in new lands and desiring to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and repose. But at the suggestion of Murchison, the famous ist and his staunch friend, he was induced to return to Africa, one of his main purposes being to take steps looking to the suppression of the Arab slave trade, whose horrors had long excited his deepest sympathies. Landing at the mouth of the Rovuma River — a stream he had previously explored — on March 22, 1866, he started for the interior, rounded Lake Nyassa on the south, and set off to the northeast for the great Lake Tanganyika — which hail mean- while been discovered by Barton and Speke, in 1857. After his departure Livingstone vanished from sight and knowledge, and for five years was utterly lost in the deep interior of the continent. From time to time vasfue intimations of his movements reached the world of civilization, but the question of his fate became so exciting a one that in 1S71 Henry M. Stanley was dispatched, at the expense of the proprietor of the New York Herald, to penetrate the continent and seek to discover the long-lost traveler. Stanley found him at: Ljiji, on the sta.n\&y northeast shore of Tanganyika, on October iS, 1S71, the great in Search of explorer being then, in his words, "a ruckle of bon Far 'vmgstone and wide he had traveled through Central Africa, discovering a host of lakes and streams, and finding many new tribes with strange habits. Among his notable discoveries was that of the Lualaba River — The Upper Congo — which he believed to be the head-waters of the Nile. His work had been 528 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS enormous, and the "Dark Continent" had yielded to him a host of its long hidden mysteries. Not willing yet to give up his work, he waited at Ujiji for men and supplies sent him by Stanley from the coast, and then started The Death of south for Lake Bangweolo, one of his former discoveries. But the Great attacked again by his old enemy, dysentery, the iron frame of Explorer t j ie g- reat traveller at length yielded, and he was found, on May i, 1873, by his men, dead in his tent, kneeling by the side of his bed, Thus perished in prayer the greatest traveler in modern times. For more than thirty years Livingstone had dwelt in Africa, most of that time engaged in exploring new regions and visiting new peoples. His travels had covered a third of the continent, extending from the Cape to near the equator, and from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean, his work being all done leisurely and carefully, so that its results were of the utmost value to geographical science. He had also aroused a sentiment against the Arab slave-trade which was to give that frightful system its death-blow. The work of Livingstone stirred up an enthusiasm for African travel, and many adventurous explorers set out for that continent during his career. After the discovery of Lake Tanganyika by Burton and Speke, in 1857, the latter started to the northeast, and reached the head-waters of the great Victoria Nyanza, the largest body of water on the continent. Subse- quently this traveler, accompanied by Mr. Grant, journeyed to the White Nile, north of this lake, while Samuel Baker, another adventurous traveler, accompanied by his heroic wife, reached in 1864 a great lake west of the Victoria, which he named the Albert Nyanza. Further north Dr. Barth, as early as 1850, set out on a journey across the Sahara to the Soudan, and at a later date various travelers explored this northern section of the continent, while in 1874-75 Lieu- other African tenant Cameron repeated Livingstone's feat of crossing the Travelers l ° ° continent from sea to sea. But the greatest of African travel- ers after Livingstone was Henry M. Stanley, with whose work we are next concerned. While a reporter in the New York Herald, this enterprising man hac 1 been sent to Crete to report upon the revolution in that island, to Abyssinu; during the British invasion, and to Spain during the revolution in that country. While in Spain, in 1869, James Gordon Bennett sent him the brief order to "find Livingstone." This was enough for Stanley, who pro- ceeded at once to Zanzibar, organized an expedition, and did " find Living- stone," as above stated. Next, filled with the spirit of travel, Stanley set out to "find Africa," now as joint agent for the Herald and the London Daily Telegraph. GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 529 Setting out from Zanzibar in November, 1874, he proceeded, with a large expedition, to the Victoria Nyanza, which he circumnavigated ; and then journeyed to Tanganyika, whose shape and dimension he similarly ascer- tained. From these he proceeded westward to the Lualaba, _ . , . 1 Stanley s Jour- the stream which Livingstone had supposed to he the Nile. ney "to the How Stanley made Ins way down this great stream, overcom- Victoria Ny- ing enormous difficulties and fighting his way through hostile tribes, is too long a story to be told here It must suffice to say that he soon found that lie was not upon the Nile, but upon a westward flowing stream, which he eventually identified as the Congo — a great river whose lower course only had been previously known. For ten months the daring traveler pursued his journey down this stream, assailed by treachery and hostility, and finally reached the ocean, having traversed the heart of that vast "unexplored territory " which long occupied so wide a space on all maps of Africa. lie had learned that the interior of the continent is a mighty plateau, watered by the Congo ami its many large TheDescentof affluents and traversed in all directions by navigable waters. the (ireat Politically this remarkable journey led to the founding of the Congo River Congo free State, which embraces th«- central region of tropical Africa, and which Stanley was sent to establish in 1S79. In 1SS7 he set out on another great journey. The conquest of the Egyptian Soudan by the Mahdi, described in a preceding chapter, had not onlv greatly diminished the territory of Egypt, but had cutoff Emin l'asha ( 1 >r. Edward Schnitzler), governor of the Equatorial Province of Egypt, leaving him stranded on the Upper Nile, near the Albert Nyanza. Here Emin maintained himself for years, holding his own against his foes, and actively engaging in natural history study. but, cut oil as he was from civilization, threatened by the Mahdi. and his fate unknown in Europe, .1 growing anxiety concerning him prevailed, and Stanley was sent to find him, as he had before found Livingstone. Oreanizin>'" a strong expedition at Zanzibar, the traveler sailed with his officers, soldiers and negro porters for the mouth of the Congo, which river he pn ipi ised to make the channel of his exploration. Setting out stan | ey Qoes to from this point on March lS, 1887, by June 15th the expedition the Rescue of had reached the village of Vambuya, 1,500 miles up the stream. m,n as a Thus far he had traversed waters well known to him. From this point he proposed to plunge into the unknown, following the course; of the Aruwimi, a large affluent of the Congo which flowed from the direction of the great Nyanza lake-basins. 530 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS It was a terrible journey which the expedition now made. Before it spread a forest of seemingly interminable extent, peopled mainly by the curious dwarfs who form the forest-folk of Central Africa. The difficulties before the traveler were enormous, but no hardship or danger could daunt his indomitable courage, and he kept resolutely on until he met the lost Emin on the shores of Albert Nyanza, as he had formerly met Livingstone on those of Lake Tanganyika. Three times in effect Stanley crossed that terrible forest, since he returned to Yambuya for the men and supplies he had left there and journeyed back again. Finally he made an overland journey to Zanzibar, on the east coast, with Emin and his followers, who had been rescued just in time to save them A Terrible from imminent peril of overthrow and slaughter by the fana- Forest tical hordes of the Mahdi. This second crossing of the con- .ourney tinent by Stanley ended December 4, 18S9, having continued little short of three years. The discoveries made were great and valuable, and on his return to Europe the explorer met with a reception almost royal in its splendor. Among the large number of travelers who during the latter half of the century have contributed to make the interior of Africa as familiar to us as that of portions of our own continent, Livingstone and Stanley stand pre-eminent, the most heroic figures in modern travel : Livingstone as the missionary explorer, who won the love of the savage tribes and made his way by the arts of jaeace and gentleness ; Stanley as the soldierly explorer, who fought his way through cannibal hordes, his arts being those of force and daring. They and their successors have performed one of the greatest works of the nineteenth century, that of lifting the cloud which for so many centuries lay thick and dense over the whole extent of interior Africa. Leaving this region of research, we must now seek another which has been the seat of as earnest efforts and terrible hardships and has aroused The Exploration as ardent a spirit of investigation, the Arctic Zone. At no of the Arctic point in the story of the nineteenth century do we find a greater display of courage and resolution, a more patient endurance of suffering, and a more unyielding determination to extend the limits of human knowledge, than in this region of ice and snow, the delving into whose secrets has actively continued during the latter half of the century. A number of voyages were made to the Arctic regions in former centuries, and Henry Hudson as early as 1607 sailed as far north as the latitude of 81 degrees 30 minutes in the vicinity of Spitzbergen. With the opening of the nineteenth century exploration grew more active, and GREA 7 D/S< "< ' / "ERERS . IND EXPLORERS 531 voyage after voyage was made ; but the distance north reached by Hudson two centuries before was not surpassed until [827, when Parry reached 82 degrees 40 minutes north latitude in the same region of the Early Expedi- sea. Beyond thi orts to penetrate the ice barrier, and the tionstothe discovery of some islands in the Arctic Ocean, nothing of Far o special interest occurred until the date of Sir John Franklin's expedition, which left England in 1845 ;m< ' disappeared in the icy seas, every soul on board perishing. This expedition was made famous by the many search parties which were, sent out in quest of the lost mariners. By one ol these parties the northwest passage from ocean to ocean, around the Arctic coast of America, was traversed in 1854. The fate of Franklin and his men was not full}' solved until 1880, when an American expedition, under Lieutenant Schwatka, found the last traces left by the unfortunate explorers. As famous and as disastrous as the Franklin expedition was the "Lady Franklin Bay Expedition," conducted by Lieutenant Greely, oi the United States arm\-, which set out in 1SS1. This expedition was not sent for pur- poses of polar research, but in pursuance of a plan to conduct a seri» circumpolar meteorological observations. The relief party of 1 883, dis- patched to the rescue of the explorers, was unfortunately put under the control of military men, who not only failed to reach their destination, but even to leave a supply of food where Greely and his men might justly expect to find one. As a result of this failure, the explorers were obliged to abandon their ships and make their way southwards over almost impassable ice. In Octo- ber the_\- reached Cape Sabine, one of the bleakest spots in rhe Dreadful the Arctic zone. If food had been left there for them all would Fate uf the have been well. But they looked in vain for the expected ree J art> supplies, and when, in June, 1884, Commodore Schley reached them with a new relief ship, starvation had almost completed its work. Of the whole party only six men survived, and a day or two more of delay would have carried them all away. Among the survivors was their leader, Lieutenant ■' ireely. A disaster as fatal in character attended the Jeannette expedition, sent out by the New York Herald, in 1879, under Commander DeLong, to push north by way of Bering Strait. The vessel was crushed by The ,- ata | the ice in 1882, ami the crew made their way over the frozen "Jeannette" surface past the Xew Siberian Islands to the mouth of the xpe Lena River, on the north coast of Siberia. Here starvation attacked them, and DeLong and man}' of his men miserably perished, their bodies being 53 2 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS found by Engineer Melville, one of their companions, who had pushed south to the Siberian settlements and secured aid, with which he heroically returned for the rescue of the unfortunate mariners. Another expedition calling for attention was that of Adolf Erik Nordenskjold, a Swedish scientist. The purpose of this enterprise was to discover, if possible, a practical commercial route through the waters north of Europe and Asia, the long sought-for Northeast Passage. In 1878 Expedition Nordenskjold set out in the Vega, commanded by Captain of Prof. Nor- Pallander, of the Swedish Navy. The party succeeded in s JO making the long journey round the northern coasts of Eu- rope and Asia, wintering in Bering Strait and reaching Japan in 1879. This vessel was the first one to round the northernmost point of Asia, and Nordenskjold was rewarded by being made a baron and a commander of the order of the Pole Star in his own country, and by marks of distinction from several others of the courts of Europe. Since 1890 the work of polar exploration has taken new forms. In 1870 Nordenskjold made a journey into Greenland, and a second one in 1883, penetrating that island more than 100 miles and reach- Land Journeys • a snow _ c i a d elevation of 7,000 feet. In 1886 Lieutenant in Greenland ° / Robet E. Peary, of the United States Navy, made a similar journey, and in 1888 Dr. Frithjof Nansen, a Norwegian explorer, crossed the southern part of the island on snowshoes from east to west. In 1891 Peary proceeded with a small party to McCormick Bav, a locality far up on the west coast of Greenland, whence he set out in the following spring with a single companion for a sledge journey over the northern section of the island. After a remarkable journey of 650 miles he reached the northeast coast of Greenland, at 8i°, 2,7" N. latitude, but the appear- ance of an area of broken stones impassable by sledges cut off his progress Peary Crosses to tne ^ ar noi "th. I'" 1 1 S95 Peary repeated this journey, but North Green= failed to make farther progress northward. During the final decade of the century polar expeditions became numerous. Walter Wellman, a young American journalist, attempted in 1S94 to reach the pole by sledge and boat over the Spitzbergen route, but his supporting vessel was crushed in the ice, and he was forced to retreat when near the 81st parallel. He made a second "dash for the pole " in 1898-99, but was disabled by an accident, and again obliged to return with- out success. In 1894 Frederick G. Jackson, an English explorer, visited Franz Joseph Land, an island region discovered by an Austrian expedition in 1872-74, and whose northern extension was not known. He remained on this island three years, carefully exploring it, and in 1896 stood on its GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 533 northern extremity, near the 8ist parallel, and in view of an open ex- panse ol polar waters, fackson's most notable service to science was the rescue of the daring explorer Nansen, whose expedition needs next to be described. Frithjof Nansen, whose crossing of Greenland has been mentioned, soon after projected an enterprise of a m:\v character. There was excellent on to suppose that a strong ocean current crossed the polar area, flow- ing from the coast of the Eastern hemisphere across to Greenland and down both shores of that island. By trusting to the drift in- fluence of this current a vessel might he carried past the' pole a " lsen and M,h rt ' ' Enterprise and the long baffling mystery solved. Nansen accordingly had a vessel constructed adapted to resist the most powerful crushing' force, and so formed that a severe ice pressure would lift it to the surface of the floe. In this vessel, the Fram, he set out in fune, 1893, sailed east to the vicinity of the New Siberia Islands, and there made fast his ship to an ice floe, with the hope that the current would slowly carry ice and ship across the polar area. For three years Nansen and his crew were lost to all knowledge ol man, in these frozen seas, and all hopes ol his return had nearly vanished when he triumphantly reappeared, having achieved a marvelous success, even though short of that which he had desired. For more than a year the Fram had drifted slowly northward, and on Christmas eve, 1804. the lati- tude ol 83 degrees 24 minutes, reached by the Greely expedition, ami the highest yet attained, was passed. In March, 1895, Nansen left the ship, tisfied with its slow progress, anil with one companion started on a sledge journey to the north. But the ew so difficult to cross and his dog teams mi depleted in number, that, after a desperate effort, he was obliged to give up the enterprise on April 7th. lie had then reached latitude S6 degrees 14 minutes, being joo miles nearer the pole than former explorers had gone, and within 300 miles of that " farthest north " point. The vessel which he had left continued to drift north until it jsansens reached 85 degrees 57 minutes, when it turned southward. "Farthest Here the sea was found to he deep, and the belief that the pole might be surrounded by a land area was disproved. It lies probably in a sea region of over 10,000 feet in depth. Nansen and Johansen, his companion, finally reached the coast of Franz Joseph Land, where they drearily spent the winter of 1895-96, living on the flesh ui bearsand walrusses, which they shot. In the spring they set out to cross the ice to Spitzbergen, and after two unsucessful attempts had ihe good fortune to meet Dr. Jackson on the shores of Franz Joseph Land. 534 GREAT DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS The incident was one of the most notable in the history of research, it seeming next to impossible that almost the only human beings in the vast area of the frozen north should have the remarkable The Rescue of f or t une t come together. The voyagers completed their Nansen _ _ & i i ■ i ttt- r / journey home in Jackson's supply ship, the Windward, their arrival in the realms of civilization being one of the most striking events of the century. In 1897 Jackson returned, having explored and mapped Franz Joseph Land. The final years of the century were very active in polar research. A new explorer of Swedish birth, S. A. Andree, devised a plan of reaching the pole as original as that of Nansen, and thought by many to be more hopeful. This was the taking advantage of the currents of air, instead of those of water. Mr. Andree was an aeronaut of experience, and found it possible, by aid of a rope drag and a rubber sail, to direct the motion of a balloon somewhat aside from the course of the wind. A balloon seemingly suitable for his enterprise was constructed, and in the summer of 1897 he Andre'e's Fatal set out ^ or tne nortn with two companions, and with ardent Balloon Ven= hopes of returning successful in a few months. Unhappily, accident or miscalculation interfered with the plans of the adventurous aeronaut, and he and his companions have failed to return. They have in all probability fallen victims to the terrible conditions of the northern zone. In 1898 Lieutenant Peary set out again for the scene of his former triumph, now equipped for a continued effort to solve the problem of the pole. He proposed to establish depots of provisions at successive points in the north, and to continue the enterprise for years if necessary, finally dashing polar-ward from his farthest north station. In the same year the Norwegian Captain Sverdrup proceeded to the same locality in the famous Fram, with purposes analogous to those of Peary. In 1899 tne adventurous Italian Prince Luigi, set out for Franz Joseph Land, well equipped for a journey north, and proposing to devote several years to the enterprise. Thus there is room for hope that the pole may be reached by the end of the nineteenth century, or before the twentieth century is many years advanced. Meanwhile the enterprise of South Polar exploration, long neglected, has been actively revived. Several expeditions have recently visited that region, and active steps are being taken for its exploration on a larger scale. CHAPTER XXXVII. Robert Fulton, George Stephenson, and the Triumphs of Invention. IN no direction has the nineteenth century been more prolific than in that of invention, and its fame in the future is likely to be largely based on its immense achievements in this field of human activity. It has been great in other directions, — in science, in exploration, in political and moral development, but it is perhaps in invention and the industrial adapta- tion of scientific discovery that it stands highest and has done most for the advancement of mankind. And it is a fact of great interest that much the most striking and important work in this direction has been , .... A . . Anglo-Saxon done by the Anglo-baxon race, m many respects the most Activity in enterprising and progressive race upon the face of the earth. invention For the beginning' of this work, during the eighteenth century, credit must be given to Great Britain, and especially for the notable invention of the steam engine, which forms the foundation stone of the whole immense edifice. But to the development of the work, during the nineteenth cen- tury, we must seek the United States, whose inventive activity and the value of its results have surpassed those of any other region of the earth. We cannot confine ourselves to the nineteenth century in considering this subject, but must go back to the eighteenth, and glance at the epoch- making discovery of lames Watt, tin; famous Scottish engi- j ames Watt and neer, to whom we owe the great moving forced nineteenth thesteam century industry and progress, and whose life extended until "»£«ne 1819, well within the century. There exists an interesting legend that ids attention was first attracted to the power of steam when a boy, when sittin by the fireside and observing the lid of his mother's tea-kettle lifted by the escaping steam. It is not, however, to the discover), but to the useful application of steam power that his fame is due. The use- of steam as a motive power had been attempted long before, and steam pumps used almost a century before Watt's great invention. What he did was to pro- duce the first effective steam engine, the parent machine upon which the multitudinous improvements during the succeeding century were based. 535 53 6 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION While the eighteenth century is notable for the discovery of the steam engine and for the first stages in the production of labor-saving machinery, the great triumphs in the latter field of invention were made in the suc- ceeding century, during which era the powers of human production were Nineteenth developed to an extent not only unprecedented, but almost Century incredible, the powers of man, aided by steam and electricity, invention being increased a hundred-fold during a century of time. It would need a volume devoted to this subject alone to tell, even in epitome, all that has been done in this direction, and here we must confine ourselves to a rapid review of the leading results of inventive genius. Both in Great Britain and in America notable triumphs in the invention of labor-saving machines were accomplished in the closing period of the eighteenth century. These include the famous British inventions of the spinning jenny of James Hargreaves, the spinning frame of Sir Richard Arkwright, and the power loom of Dr. Cartwright, the first notable aids in cotton manufacture. These were rendered available by the cotton-gin of Eli Whitney, the American inventor, by whose genius the production of cotton fibre was enormously cheapened. Other celebrated American inventors of this period were John Fitch, to whose efforts the first practical steamboat was due, and Oliver Evans, who revolutionized milling machinery, . , . his devices in flour and grist mills being in use for half a cen- Labor-saving ° . Machinery of tury after his death. He was also the first to devise a steam the Eighteenth carriage, and in 1804 built a steam dredger, which propelled itself through the streets of Philadelphia and afterwards was moved as a stern-wheel steamboat on the Schuylkill River. Another famous invention of this period was the nail machine of Jacob Perkins, patented in 1795, though not fully developed until 1810. At that time nails were all hand-wrought, and cost twenty-five cents a pound. By this machine the ancient hand process was speedily brought to an end and the price of nails has since been reduced to little more than that of the iron of which they are made. Another famous American inventor of early date was Thomas Blanchard, the most notable of whose many inventions was the Blanchard lathe, developed in 1819, for the turning of irregular forms, a contrivance of the utmost value in doing away with slow and costly methods of labor. -Of early inventions of the nineteenth century, however, the most The steamboat notable were the steamboat and the locomotive, the later de- and Locomo- velopment of which has been of extraordinary value to man- kind. Previous to the century under review, for a period of several thousand years, the horse had been depended on for rapid land travel the sail for rapid motion on the water. The inventions of Fulton and THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 537 Stephenson brought these ancient systems to an end, and within a single century produced a magical change in the ability of man to make his way over the surface of land and sea. The application of steam to the movement of boats had been tried by several inventors in Great Britain and America in the eighteenth century, the most successful being John Fitch, whose steamboat was used for months on the Delaware about 1790. But the earliest inventor to produce a com- mercially successful steamboat was Robert Fulton, another American, whose boat, the Clermont, was given its trial trip on the Hudson in 1807. 'This boat, in which was employed the principle of the side paddle- wheel, and which used a more powerful engine than John niton's Boat Fitch could command, was completed in August, 1807, and the •• Cler- excited a great degree of public interest, far more than had been given to the pioneer steamboat. Monday, September 11, 1S07, the time set for sailing, came, and expectation was at its highest pitch. The friends of the inventor were in a state of feverish anxiety lest the enterprise should come to grief, and the scoffers on the wharf were ready to give vent to shouts of derision. Precisely at the hour of one the moorings were thrown off, and the Clermont moved slowly out into the stream. Volumes of smoke rushed forth from her chimney, and her wheels, which were uncovered, scattered the spray far behind her. The spectacle was certainly novel to the people of those days, and some of the crowd on the wharf broke into shouts of ridicule. Soon, however, the jeers grew The pjrst silent, for it was seen that the steamer was increasing herspeed. steamboat Soon she was fairly under way, and making a steady pro- Trip Up the •11 ri Hudson gress up the stream at the rate of five miles per hour. 1 he incredulity of the spectators had been succeeded by astonishment, and now this feeling gave way to undisguised delight, and cheer after cheer went up from the vast throng. In a little while, 'however, the boat was observed to stop, and the enthusiasm at once subsided. The scoffers were again in 'heir glory, and unhesitatingly pronounced the enterprise a failure. But to cheir chagrin, the steamer, after a short delay, once more proceeded on her way, and this time even more rapidly than before. Fulton had discovered that the paddles were too long, and took too deep a hold on the water, and had stopped the boat for the purpose of shortening them. This defect remedied, the Clermont continued her voyage during the rest of the day and all night, without stopping, and at one o'clock the next day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of Chancellor Livingston. She lay there until nine the next morning, when she continued 538 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION her voyage toward Albany, reaching that city at five in the afternoon. On her return trip, she reached New York in thirty hours running time — exactly five miles per hour. The river was at this time navigated entirely with sailing vessels. The surprise and dismay excited among the crews of these vessels by the appearance of the steamer was extreme. These simple the steam= people beheld what they supposed to be a huge monster, boat on River vomiting fire and smoke from its throat, lashing the water with its fins, and shaking the river with its roar, approaching rapidly in the face of both wind and tide. Some threw themselves flat on the decks of their vessels, where they remained in an agony of terror until the monster had passed, while others took to their boats and made for the shore in dismay, leaving their vessels to drift helplessly down the stream. The introduction of the steamboat gave a powerful impetus to the internal commerce of the Union. It opened to navigation many important rivers whose swift currents had closed them to sailing craft, and made rapid and easy communication between the most distant parts of the country practicable. The public soon began to appreciate this, and orders came in rapidly for steamboats for various parts of the country. Fulton executed these as fast as possible, several among the number being for boats on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. The subsequent history of this important invention need but be glanced at here. The first steamship to cross the ocean was the Savannah, which set out from the city of that name in 1819, and reached Liverpool by the combined aid of wind and steam in twenty-eight days. The first to cross entirely by steam power was the Royal William, a Canadian-built vessel, in 1833. A year or two later the Great Britain, the first iron ocean steamer — 322 feet long by 31 feet beam — crossed the ocean in fifteen days. Since then the development of steam navigation, alike on inland and ocean waters, has been enormous, and an extraordinary increase has been made in the size and speed of steam vessels. Forty years ago the fastest ocean steamer took more than nine days to cross from New York to Oueenstown. This Development journey can be made now in a little over five days. As of Ocean regards size, the great Oceanic, whose first voyage was made in 1899, surpasses any other boat ever built. This sea- monster is 704 feet long, and has a displacement of 28,000 tons, while it is capable of steaming around the earth at twelve knots an hour with- out recoaling. Its engine power is enormous, and its carrying capacity unprecedented. This leviathan considerably outranks in dimensions the Great THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 541 Eastern, the former ocean marvel, and fitly typifies the progress of the century. As will he remembered the Great Eastern proveda failure, while the Oceanic is a pronounced success. Important as has been the invention of the steamboat, it is much surpassed by that of the locomotive and the railroad, which have increa the ease, cheapness, and rapidity of land travel and freight transportation far more than steam navigation has increased traffic by water. While the sailing vessel falls short of the steamship as an aid to commerce, the difference between the two is very much less than that between the horse and the locomotive, the iron rail and the ordinary road, and the railroad has achieved a revolution in transportation equal to that made by the steam engine in manufacture. The motor engine is, aside from the work of Oliver Evans, already mentioned, solely a result of nineteenth century enterprise. The railroad came earlier, first in the form of tramways of wood ; the earliest iron rails being laid in England about 1707. But it was not until after 1800 that an attempt was made to replace the horse by the steam carriage on these roads. ( )f those who sought to solve this problem, George Stephenson, a poor English workingman, stands decidedly first. While serving as fireman in a colliery, and later as engineer, he occupied himself earnestly in the study of machinery, and as early as 1814 constructed for the colliery a traction engine with two cylinders. This was seated on a boiler mounted on wheels, which were turned by means of chains connected with their axles. It drew eieht loaded cars at a speed of four miles an hour. This was a clumsy affair, weak in power, and inefficient in service, but it was much superior to any other engine then in use, and was improved on greatly by his second engine, built the following year, and in which he used the steam blast-pipe. These early engines were not much esteemed, and the horse con- (ieorge st hen _ tinned to be employed in preference, the first passenger rail- son and the road, the Stockton and Darlington, opened in 1S25, being run Locomotive by horse-power. Meanwhile Stephenson continued to work on the locomo- tive, improving it year after year, until his early ventures were far surpassed in efficiency by his later. A French engineer, M. Seguin, in 1836, successfully introduced locomotives in which improved appliances for increasing tin- draught were employed. At that time, indeed, inventors seem to have been actively engaged on this problem, and when the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, begun in 1825, offered premiums for the best engines to be run at high speed, a number of applicants appeared. The premium was easily won, in 1S30, by Stephenson's " Rocket," the most effective locomotive yet produced. This antediluvian affair, as it would appear to-day, weighed 30 542 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION only 4 % tons, but was able to draw a load of 17 tons at an average speed of fourteen miles an hour, sometimes reaching seventeen miles. When The Perform- run a ' one lt attained thirty miles an hour, to the amazement ance of the and admiration of the public. It is to George Stephenson we owe the locomotive as an effective piece of mechanism. "He found it inefficient," says Smiles, "and he made it powerful, efficient and useful." While these events were taking place in England and France, the new idea had taken root in America, and the inventors and engineers of the United States set themselves to the development of the problem. Short lines of railway, for horse traction, were laid at early dates, the first loco- motive, the "Stourbridge Lion," being imported from England and placed on a short line at Honesdale, Pa., in 1829. The Baltimore and Ohio, the first passenger railroad in the United States, was begun in 1830, and on it was tried the earliest American-built locomotive, the production of Peter Cooper, the celebrated philanthropist of later years. This was a toy affair, First American with a three and a half inch cylinder, an upright tubular boiler Railroads and made of old gun barrels, and a fan blower to increase the Locomotives d raU o.h t Its weight was two and a half tons. Yet it did not lack speed, making the run from Baltimore to Ellicott's Mills, twenty-seven miles, in an hour. But the first serviceable American locomotive was the " Best Friend," built at West Point, N. Y., and run on the Charleston and Hamburg Road, in South Carolina, in 1830, shortly after Stephenson's "Rocket" had been tried. The "Best Friend" could make more than thirty miles an hour, and could draw a train of four or five coaches, with forty to fifty passengers, at twenty miles an hour. It was inferior to the " Rocket," however, in design, and its career came to a sudden end through the zeal of a negro fireman, who sat on the safety valve to stop the escape of steam. The fireman shared the fate of the locomotive. Such was the railroad as it began, — a microscopic event. To day it is of telescopic magnitude. At the end of 1831 there were less than a hundred miles of railroad in the United States, and probably still fewer |)evelopmeiUof e ] sew i iere _ j\ t t i ie enc j f t h e centu ry this country alone had over iSo,ooo miles of railroad, while there were single railroad systems with more than 8000 miles of track. In the whole world there were about 450,000 miles of road, — only two and a half times the mileage of the United States. As for the development of the locomotive, the railroad carriage, the track, etc., it has been enormous, and sixty miles an hour for passenger trains is now a common speed, while the numbers of people and tons of THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 513 freight transported annually by the railroads of the world are incredibly great. We cannot here undertake to describe the notable feats of engineer- ing which have carried railroads over rivers and chasms, over mountains impassable otherwise except by sure-footed mules, across deserts too hot and diyeven for mule trains. "No heights seem too great to-day, no valleys too deep, no canons too forbidding, no streams too wide; if commerce demands it the engineer will respond and the railways will be built." The railroad bridges of the country would make a continuous structure from New York to San Francisco, and include many of the boldest and most original, as well as the longest and highest, bridges in the world. The pioneer railroad suspension bridge at Niagara Falls was as remarkable in its day for boldness and originality as fordimensions and success. r,r ^ a . t Ra,,road } a j ^ Bridges A single span of 821 feet, supported by four cables, carri the track 245 feet above the river that rushed beneath. The cables were supported by masonry towers, whose slow disintegration gave occasion for an engineering feat even more notable than the original construction of the Frit b-e. The lirst railroad bridge across the Ohio was at Steubenville, com- pleted in 1S66; the first iron bridge over the Upper Mississippi was the Burlington bridge of 1S69. The first great bridge across the Mississippi was Fads' magnificent structure at St. Louis, whose beautiful steel arches of over 500 feet span each give no hint of the difficult problems that had to be solved before a permanent bridge was possible at that point. It was completed in 1874. Since then the great river has been frequently bridged for railroads, while its great branch, the Missouri, has been crossed by bridges in a dozen places. The steam railroad has been supplemented by the electric street rail- way, which at the close of the century was being extended at a highly promising rate. Passenger travel in cities by aid oi the horse railway was inaugurated about the middle of the century, the horse beginning to be replaced by the electric motor in 1SS1, when the first railway of this char- acter was laid in Berlin. A second was laid in Ireland in 18S3. But the electric steel railway has made its greatest progress in the United States, where the lirst line went into operation at Richmond, Va., in iSSS. This adopted the overhead trolly system, since so widely employed, and the length of line had increased to over 3,000 miles in 1S92 and 1=;, 000 miles in 1807. Since that date the progress of electric Th J: B ! e I c , tn 1 c *> ■" . Steel Railway railways has been enormous, they being extended from the cities far into the country, where they come into active competion with the steam roads. Electric locomotives are also in use, and the twentieth 544 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION century is likely to see a development of electric traction which will have the whole earth for its field, and may perhaps displace the steam road, the great triumph in transportation of the nineteenth century. Other recent devices for swift travel are the bicycle, which came extra- ordinarily into use during the last quarter of the century, and the automobile carriage, whose era only fairly began as the century reached its end. It is The Bicycle m t ' le direction of the latter and of aerial travel that the and the twentieth century will perhaps achieve its most notable triumphs in this field. As for the horse, man's most useful servant at the beginning of the century, it was rapidly being displaced at the end, and may during the century to come cease to be employed in the service of man. The story of railroading leads naturally to that of progress in iron and steel work generally, which has been extraordinary during the century. Of inventions in this direction perhaps the most notable is the Bessemer steel- making process, which converts iron into steel by the direct addition of the necessary quantity of carbon, and has had the important result of making steel cheaper to-day than iron was not very many years ago. In iron- working machinery the progress has been very great, and in no other field has the genius of the American inventor been more conspicuously dis- Marvels in Iron played. The same may be said of wood-working machinery, and Wood- in which the most clever mechanism is employed. The result is that many articles in metal and wood, of the most varied and useful kinds, formerly almost unattainable by the rich, are now within the easy reach of the poor, and the comfort and convenience of common life to-day are enormously in advance of those enjoyed by our ancestors of a century ago. As it is impossible to name all the inventions which conduce to this increase in convenience, it will perhaps suffice to name one alone, the friction match, that most useful of small contrivances, which has relegated into the museum of antiquities the slow and clumsy flint and steel to which the world was for centuries confined. This invention, gradually developed in various countries, owes its cheapness largely to the invention of an American, whose patent, taken out in 1S36, first made possible the produc- tion of phosphorus matches on a large scale. Mention of the friction match opens to us one broad vista of nine- teenth century progress, too great to be more than glanced at. This embraces the replacement of wood by coal for heating purposes, the devel- opment of the stove, the furnace, the coal-burning grate, and various con- veniences of like character. As regards the tallow candle, which was in THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 545 common use during the first third of the century, it seems as antiquated new as the pyramids. Various kinds of oil succeeded it as pi-ogress in illuminants, until the discovery of petroleum set them all Illumination aside, and gave the world one of its most useful natural products. Then came the illuminating gas, and finally the wonderful electric light, whose brilliant glow lighted up the, threshold of the twentieth century. Petroleum, gas and electricity arc also beginning to replace coal for heating and cooking purposes, — as coal replaced wood, — and an out- look into the future seems to reveal to us the marvelous electric energy per- forming these and a thousand other services ; this energy yielded, not as now, by costly fuel dug from the earth, but by power derived from falling water, from moving air, from swelling tides and flowing currents, and even from the direct light ami heat of the sun. We cannot undertake to describe in detail the inventions of the cen- tury, even all those of great service to mankind. A mere inventory of these would more than fill this chapter, and we must confine ourselves to the notable ones of American origin. Among the most important of these may he named the sewing machine, a device gradually approached through a century of effort, but not made workable until a poor me- Howe and the chanic named Elias Howe attacked the problem, and worked SewingAia- it out through years of penury and disappointment. It was the lock-stitch and shuttle to which he owed his success, but these devices, patented by him in 1846, were pirated by wealthy corporations, and years of litigation were necessary before he' gained his rights. lb- finally obtained a royalty of live dollars for each machine made up to i860, and, after the renewal of his patent in that year, one dollar for each machine. The num- bers produced were- sufficient to make him very wealth}', and by the time the original patents expired, in 1877. over six million machines had been produced ami sold by American manufacturers alone. Aside from the number of sewing machines now used in families, those used in factories are estimated to give employment, throughout the world, to over 20.000,00c women. Another American invention of the greatest utility '.s that of vulcanized India-rubber, the production of a poor man named Charles Goodyear, who, like Howe, spent years of his life and endured semi-starvation while persis- tently experimenting. Beginning in 1834, it was 1S39 before, Q 00l iy C arand after innumerable failures, he discovered the secret of vul- the Vulcaniza- canizing the rubber by means of sulphur. Before that date the softening effect of heat rendered rubber practically useless, but the vulcanized rubber produced by Goodyear was, before his death in i860. 54^ THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION applied to nearly five hundred purposes, and gave employment to 60,000 persons in Europe and the United States. Since then its utility has very greatly increased, and its recent employment for bicycle and carriage tires opens up a new field for its use which must enormously increase the demand. Another of the famous inventions of the century, the electric tele- graph, usually attributed to Samuel Finley Morse, should really be credited to the labors of several scientists both in Europe and America. The men': of Morse lay, not in the discovery of the principle of electric Morse and the , . , , . . ,._ , . . . . . , ... Telegraph telegraphy, but in his simplified telegraphic alphabet, which has nearly driven out all other devices and has made its way throughout the world. Morse's first line, completed in 1844, was the pioneer of a development analogous to that of the railroad. To-day the telegraph runs over all continents and under almost all seas, the length of the telegraph lines in the world at the end of the century being over 5,000,000 miles, of which more than half were in America. The tele- phone — the marvelous talking telegraph — invented by Alexander Bell and developed in the final quarter of the century, now has over half a million miles of wire in the United States. The mention of the telegraph and telephone calls to our attention one of the ablest and most prolific of American inventors, the indefatigable Thomas Alva Edison, to whom are due important discoveries in multiplex telegraphy — the sending of various messages at once over a single wire — in telephony, in the incandescent electric light, and other fields The Inventions , 1 at •• r i ■ v ■ • 1 of Edison °* research. Most surprising 01 his many discoveries is the marvelous phonograph, by which the sounds of the human voice may be put on permanent record, to speak again in their original tones years or centuries hence. Other inventors have been active in this field, and extraordinary prog- ress has been made in systems of telegraph)', some of the new inventions being capable of remarkable feats in the rapid sending of messages, while it is possible now to transmit pictures as well as words over the telegraphic wire. So vast, indeed, has been the advance in this field of practical science, so many the applications and devices employed, and so wonderful the results, that it seemed as if the powers of telegraphy must be exhausted, when, at the very end of the century, one of its most remarkable results was announced, as the discovery of a young Italian named Marconi. This was the method of "wireless telegrapy," the sending of messages through the air without the aid of connecting wires. This discovery, like most others, THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 547 cannot be credited to one man alone. A number of scientists were experi- menting with it simultaneously, but to Marconi is due the honor of a successful ami practical solution of tin; problem. It has long been known that electric energy can produce effects through space by the influence known as induction, in which a moving current causes a reverse ^ arcon i an( j current to appear in a neighboring wire. By aid of the Wireless very powerful currents now produced this effect may be shown e egxap y at a considerable distance. Whether the action in wireless telegraphy is the result of induction, or of a direct passage of electricity through space, must be left for scientists to decide, but the results are astonishing, messages having been sent and received over distances of many miles. It is not well to state how many miles, since the system is still in its infancy, and before many years have elapsed, tor all that can now be affirmed to the con- trary, a message ma)- be sent in this manner from America to Europe. Wireless telegraphy is a combination of science and invention. Scien- tifically the electric waves appear to flow out through the air in all directions from the powerful currents employed. Mechanically a lofty pole seems necessarv, and it may become possible, by a directive contrivance, to send the M .v. es in a fixed course. In the Marconi contrivance, the electric waves, when received, are made to pass through a vial containing metal filings, which are caused to cohere so as to furnish a direct line of passage for the current. Marconi's special invention is a small tapper which strikes the vial of filings and causes them to fall asunder, thus breaking the current. The public at large, however, is likely to be more interested in results than methods, and in the system of wireless telegraphy there is promise of a development that may supplant all existing telegraphic systems during the century upon whose threshold we stand. In no field of effort have inventors been more active or their results more useful than in the production of labor-saving devices in agriculture. In these we have to do with the yield of food, the very corner-stone of life itself, and whatever seems to increase the product of the fields, Labor-saving or to cheapen the necessaries of life, is of the most direct and Agricultural immediate utility to mankind. This subject, therefore, one of mpemen s vital interest to all the farmers of our country, calls for special notice here. Great inventions are not necessarily large or costly. The scythe is a simple and inexpensive tool; yet the practical perfecting of it by Joseph Jenks, almost at the outset of farm-life in New England, formed an epoch- mark in agriculture. It was the beginning of a new order of things. Put- ting curved lingers to the improved scythe-blade and snath did for the harvester what had been done for the grass-cutter, gave him an implement 548 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION which doubled or trebled his efficiency at a critical season, and furnished in the American grain cradle a farm-tool perfect of its kind, and Early Farming \\\^ e \y to hold its place as long as grain is grown on uneven ground. For the great bulk of grain and grain-cutting, the scythe and the cradle have been displaced by later American inventions, — mowers and harvesters, operated by animal or steam power, — still they are likely to remain forever a part of every farm's equipment. Their utility is beyond computation. The plow supplied to. the Colonial farmers, was as venerable as the reaping-hook. It had been substantially unimproved for four thousand years. The moment our people were free to manufacture for themselves, they set about its improvement in form and material, the very first patent granted by the National Patent Office being for an improved plow of cast- iron. The best plow then in use was a rude affair, clumsily made, hard to guide, and harder to draw. It had a share of wrought iron, roughly shaped by the roadside black-smith, a landside and standard of wood, and an ill- shaped mould-board plated with tin, sheet iron, or worn-out saw-plates. Only a stout man could hold it, and a yoke of oxen was needed for work that a colt can do with a modern plow. Its improvement engaged the atten- tion of many inventors, notably President Jefferson, who experimented with various forms and made a mathematical investigation of the shape of the mould-board, to determine the form best suited for the work. He was tne first to discover the importance of straight lines from the sole to the top of the share and mould-board. Pinckney discovered the value of a straight line from front to rear. Jethro Wood discovered that all lines, from front to rear, should be straight. The method of drafting the lines, on a plane surface, in designing plows, is due to Knox. The discovery of the import- ance of the centre-draught, and the practical means of attaining it by the _, „ inclination of the landside inward, is credited to Mears. Gov- Tne Develop- ment of the ernor Holbrook, of New Hampshire, devised the method of American making plows of any size symmetrical, so as to ensure the complete pulverization of the soil. Col. Randolph, Jefferson's son-in-law, "the best farmer in Virginia," invented a side-hill plow. Smith was the first to hitch two plows together; and Allen, by combining a num- ber of small plow-points in one implement, led the way to the production of the infinite variety of horse-hoes, cultivators, and the like, for special use. But Jethro Wood, of New York, in 1819 and after, probably did more than any other man to perfect the cast-iron plow, and to secure its general use in place of the cumbrous plows of the earlier days. His skill as an inventor, and his pluck as a fighter against stolid ignorance and prejudice, for the THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION 549 advancement of sensible plowing, cost him — -what they ought to have gained for him — a fortune. The use of cast-iron plows had become general by 1825. The construction of plows has since been taken up by a multitude of inventors, the most valuable of improvements, probably, coming through the use of chilled iron, and the most promising from the application of steam-power to plowing. The increase in the working power of the farmer, from American improvements in plows, may be Working estimated from the fact that two million plowmen, with as Power of ... . ... . . the Parmer many teams, would need to work every day in the year with the primitive plow to prep, ire the soil annually under cultivation in this country. It would be impossible, under the ancient system, to do this work within the brief plowing season. The era of agricultural machinery began about 1825, its earliest pause appearing in the application of horse-power to the threshing and cleaning of grain. Already the American tendency to seek practical results by the simplest means, and to make high-priced labor profitable by increasing its efficiency, hud been shown in the improvement of a wide range of farm- er's tools, almost everything they had to use being made- lighter, neater. and more serviceable. The same improving, practical sense was displayed in devising more complicated labor-saving machines, which made it possible to do easily and directly what had been previously difficult or quite impos- sible to do. Too often, however, the early inventor was defeated by the lack of skilled labor and proper machine tools for making his improvements commercially successful. As soon as the mechanic arts had been sufficiently perfected and extended — largely by American genius — the development and production of agricultural machinery became rapid and profitable. Washington had tried a sort of threshing machine .is early as 1798; and one of the first patents issued by the Patent ( )ffice was for an improved thresher; yet the flail held the field until after 1825. In the following twenty-five years over two hundred patents were -ranted for improvements in threshers, and since then the. patents have numbered thou- Threshj sands. By 1S40, most of the grain was threshed by horse- Machines driven machinery. In 1853, when a famous trial of rival andTheir , , , , . ... Performance threshers was held in England, the American machine did three times as much as the best English machine, and did it better. In a subsequent trial in France, the average work of experts with the flail being reckoned as one, that of the best French machine, was twenty-five; of the best English machine, forty-one ; while Pitt's American machine did the 550 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION work of seventy-four. The application of steam-power greatly increased the efficiency of threshing machines, raising the output from perhaps 2,000 bushels a day to six or seven thousand for a single machine. Still more significant and important have been the victories of Amer- ican inventors in connection with mowers and reapers. The circumstance that reaping by machinery is as old as the Christian era, and that a multi- tude of comparatively modern attempts have been made, particularly it- England, to apply horse-power to the cutting of grass and grain, only added to the merit of inventors like Hussey and McCormick, who practically solved the problems involved by means so simple and efficient that they The American have not been and are likely never to be entirely displaced. Reapers and Hussey's mowing machine of 1833 had reciprocating knives working through slotted fingers, a feature not only new but essential to all practical grass and grain cutters, except the special type known as lawn-mowers. McCormick patented a combination reaper and mower in 1S34, which he subsequently so improved as to make it the neces- sary basis of all reapers. In competitive trials at home and abroad, the American mowers and reapers have never failed to demonstrate their superiority over all others. The first great victory, which gave these machines the world-wide fame they have so successfully maintained, was won in London in 1S51. In the competitive trial near Paris, in 1855, the American machine cut an acre of oats in twenty-two minutes; the English in sixty-six minutes; the French in seventy-two. In the later competition, local and international, their superior efficiency has been not less signally manifested. By increasing the efficiency of the harvester twenty-fold (and twice that by the self- binders), these products of American invention have played a part second only to railroads in opening up the West to profitable cultivation, rapidly converting a wilderness into the granary of the world. Devices for bind- ing grain as it was cut began to be developed about 1855. Harvesters and yj ie ^ rst j^^^jng usec j w j re binders; the later twine. The belf-bmders ' combination of reapers and threshers in one machine has been most largely developed in California. The largest in use there weighs eight tons ; and, pushed by thirty mules, cuts a swath twenty-two feet wide and eighteen miles long in a day — over forty-eight acres, yielding about as many tons of wheat, which is cut, threshed, cleaned and deposited in 700 sacks. The machine employs a driver, a shearer, a knife-tender, and a sack-lowerer — four men, costing eight dollars a day for wages. Less important individually, yet in the aggregate of incalculable assist- ance to agriculture, have been a multitude of American inventions intended THE TRIUMPHS OF IXVENTION 551 to expedite and lighten the farmer's work — stump and stone extractors for clearing the ground, ditching machines for drainage systems, fencing devices, particularly the barbed wire fence, special plows for breaking up new ground, harrows of many types, seeders, planters, culti- _. . j . 1 r The (ireat vators, horse rakes, hay tedders and hay loaders, potato and Variety of rock diggers, corn buskers and shellers, cotton pickers, and Agricultural . 111 1 it 1 Implements counties-, other labor-saving tools and devices. In most cases these improved appliances enable one man to do easily the work of several working with primitive tools. With the help of machine planters and seeders the farmer's work is made at least five times more efficient ; with cultivators, ten times; with potato diggers, twenty; with harrowers, thirty; with mowers and harvesters, from twenty to lifty ; with corn huskers and shellers, a hundred. The latest cotton harvester, employing a team, a driver, and a helper, does the work of forty hand-pickers. These agricultural machines, by greatly cheapening all food products, have had a wider influence, probably, than any other group of American inventions. In connection with improvements in means of transportation — largely o< American origin — they have changed the food conditions of half the world, making food more abundant, more varied, more wholesome, more secure, and vastly cheaper than ever before. At the same time they have lightened the farmer's labor, shortened his hours oi toil, increased his gains, and quite transformed his social ami industrial position. The marvelous evolution in the nineteenth century, of which we have mentioned only some of the more notable particulars, the whole story being far too voluminous to deal with hen-, has had the result of immensely increas- ing the wealth of the world and the cheapness and rapid distribution of pro- ducts, and of placing within the ready control of mankind hundreds of articles of art and utility scarcely dreamed of a century ago. In textile production, in metal working, in the making of furniture, clothing and other articles of ordinary use, in heating and illumination, in travel and transporta- tion of goods, farm operations, engineering, mining and PnK , tj excavation, and the production of the tools of peace and the Activity of the weapons of war, in ways, indeed, too numerous to mention, the Nineteenth • • • 1 , • 1 • 1 f \ ■ 1 Century inventive activity and the industrial energy ot the nineteenth century have added enormously to the variety and abundance of useful objects at man's disposal, increased his wealth to an extraordinary extent, and enabled him to move over land and sea with marvelous ease and Speed, and to semi information around the world with a rapidity that almost annihilates time and space. 552 THE TRIUMPHS OF INVENTION Not the least among the results of modern mechanical progress is the vast development in commerce, and particularly in that of the Anglo-Saxon people — the inhabitants of Great Britain and the United States — the com- mercial enterprise of which countries is nowhere else equalled. The ocean commerce of the United States, for instance, has nearly doubled within thirty years, and now amounts to nearly $2,000,000,000 worth of goods annually, two-thirds of which are articles of export. But this great sum Commerceof the j r from indicating the actual commerce of this country, United States ... & .... , since it is greatly surpassed by its interior commerce, the movement of goods by aid of river, canal, and railroad from part to part of the vast area of the United States, the extent of which commerce it is impossible even to estimate. The statement of a single fact will suffice to put in striking prominence the result of this in increasing the value of property and the wealth of the people of this country. In the year 1801, the opening year of the century, the ideas entertained of riches differed remarkably from what they do now. At that time it is doubtful if there was a person in this country worth more than a quarter million of dollars. Thirty years afterwards, Stephen Girard, with an estate of about nine million dollars, was looked upon as a prodigy of wealth, and his reputation as a man of immense riches spread round the world. In 1900, the closing year of the century, there were single estates worth more than two hundred million dollars, and the number of millionaires in the United States could be counted Wealth and its by the hundreds. As regards the largest estates possessed Sources J & ° y in 1 80 1, there are thousands among; us with greater wealth to-day, while the general average of property possessed by our citizens has very greatly advanced. If it be asked in what this wealth consists, it may be said that the rail- road property of the country alone suffices to account for a considerable proportion of it. The assets of the railroads of the United States are alued at over $12,000,000,000, and the annual profits of their business amounts to a very great sum. Another immense source of wealth is the landed property of the United States, the annual product of which alone is worth over $3,000,000,000. A third great element of wealth consists in the dwellings and other buildings of cities and towns ; and a fourth in the build- ings and machinery of manufacturing enterprises, whose annual products alone are valued at more than $10,000,000,000. It will suffice here to name a fifth great source of wealth, our mines and their productions, particularly those of coal, iron and precious metals. The annual yield of coal alone is worth more than $200,000,000; that of iron more than $90,000,000; those of v THE TRJl -J//V/S < >/■- IN I 'ENTION 553 gold and silver more than $100,000,000. To these maybe added an annual production of nearly $60,000,000 worth of copper, and as much ol petroleum and its products — each of which nearly equals gold in value, — $12,000,000 worth of lead, and lame values of other minerals; the grand total being aver $750,000,000. If these figures should be extended to cover the world, the total sum of values would be something astounding. What we are principally concerned with here is the fact that this vast total of wealth is Expansion of very largely the result of nineteenth century enterprise, and Vaiues During mainly as applied in Europe and the northern section of North tlL ' Ct -" n ur y America. What the percentage oi increase in value has been it is quite impossible to state, but the wealth of the world as a whole is probably m than double what it was a century ago, while that of such expanding coun- tries as the United States has increased in a vastly greater proportion. That this growth in wealth will go on during the twentieth century cannot be doubted, but that the proportionate rate ol increase will equal that of the century now at its end may well be questioned, the inventive activity and application of nature's forces within this century having reached a develop- ment which seems to preclude as great a future rate of progress. The nineteenth may, therefore, perhaps remain the banner century in material progress. CHAPTER XXXVIIL The Evolution in Industry and the Revolt Against Capital. INDUSTRY in the past centuries was a strikingly different thing from what it has been in the recent period. For a century it has been pass- ing through a great process of evolution, which has by no means reached its culmination, and whose final outcome no man can safely predict. For a long period during the mediaeval and the subsequent centuries industry existed in a stable condition, or one whose changes were few and The Conditions none °f them revolutionary. Manufacture was in a large of MedisEval sense individual. The great hive of industry known as a fac- industry tQ1 .y jjj not ex j st) workshops being small and every expert mechanic able to conduct business as a master. Employees were mainly apprentices, each of whom expected to become a master mechanic, or, if he chose to work for a master, did so with an independence that no longer exists. The workshop was usually a portion of the dwelling, where the master worked with his apprentices, teaching them the whole art and mystery of his craft, and giving them knowledge of a complete trade, not of a minor portion of one as in our day. The trade-union had its prototype in the guild. But this was in no sense a combination of labor for protection against capital, but of master workmen to protect their calling from being swamped by invasion from without. In truth, when we go back into the past centuries, it is to find ourselves in another world of labor, radically different from that which sur- rounds us to-day. It was the steam-engine that precipitated the revolution. This great invention rendered possible labor-saving machinery. From working directly upon the material, men began to work indirectly through the The Cause of l to 11^ the Revolu- medium of machines: As a result the old household indus- tion in the tries rapidly disappeared. Engines and machines needed spe- cial buildings to contain them and large sums of money to purchase them, the separation of capital and labor began, and the nine- teenth century opened with the factory system fully launched upon the world. 554 E VOL UTIOX IN IND USTK V 555 The century with which we are concerned is the one of vast accumula- tions of capital in single hands or under the control of companies, the concentration of labor in factories and workshops, the extraordinary development of labor-saving machines, the growth of monopolies on the one hand and of labor unions on the other, the revolt of labor against the tyranny of capital, the battle for shorter hours and higher wages, the coming of woman into the labor field as a rival of man, the development of economic theories and industrial organizations, and in still p res ent Aspect other ways the growth of a state of affairs in the world of of the Labor industry that had no counterpart in the past, and which we Q uest,on hope may not extend far into the future, since it involves a condition of anarchy, injustice, and violence that is certainly not calculated to advance the interests of mankind. In past times wealth was largely accumulated in the hands of the nobility, who had no thought of using it productively. Such of it as lay under the control of the commonalty was applied mainly for commercial purposes and in usury, and comparatively little was used in manufacture. This state of affairs came somewhat suddenly to an end with the invention of the steam-engine and of labor-saving machinery. Capital was largely diverted to purposes of manufacture, wealth grew ' , ,'" ! " & J L ' -^ In Industry rapidly as a result of the new methods of production, the making of articles cheaply required costly plants in buildings and machinery which put it beyond the reach of the ordinary artisan, the old individuality in labor disappeared, the number of employers largely diminished and that of employees increased, and the mediaeval guild vanished, the workmen finding themselves exposed to a state of affairs unlike that for which then- old organizations were devised. A radically new condition of industrial affairs had come, and the industrial class was not prepared to meet it. Everywhere the employers became supreme and the men were at their mercy. Labor was dismayed. Its unions lost their industrial character and resumed their original form of purely benevolent associations. Such was the state: of atlairs in the early years of the nineteenth century. Industry was in a stage of transition, and inevitably suffered from the change. It was only at a later date that the idea of mutual aid in industry revived, and the trade union — a new form of association adapted to the new situation — arose as the lineal successor of the old society of artisans. The trade union resembles the old industrial association in general char- acter, and in modes of action, but is much more extensive and concentrated in organization and far-seeing in management, in accordance with the vast 556 EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY expansion of industries and the changed relations of the workingman. The new form of association was not welcomed by the employers, who scented danger afar. They attacked it in the press, in the The Trade Union , . , , , , . i n i i legislature, and by every means at their command, out the trade union had come to stay, hostile legislation failed to destroy it, and the opposition of employers to check its growth. It slowly, but steadily advanced, increased in strength and unity of purpose, gained legislative: recognition, and in time became a legally protected institution and one of the powerful forces in modern industry. The trade union had its origin in England, in which country the modern conditions of industry rapidly gained a great development. It appeared in a crude form near the end of the eighteenth century, one of the earliest societies known being the " Institution," established by the cloth-workers of Halifax in 1796. Many other unions were formed during the first twenty years of the nineteenth century, in spite of persecution and attempts at re- pression. It was not until 1825, however, that they gained legal recognition, and not until 1871 that they obtained permanent protection for their property and funds. Some of the earlier unions still survive, though many changes have taken place in their constitution. In 1850 a new departure was taken, in the formation of the Amalgam- ated Society of Engineers, one of the most perfect types of a trade union in the world. It is organized for the mutual benefit of its members as w-ell as for protection against oppression by employers, and the annual tax upon Progress and ' ts members for various purposes amounts to as much as Purpose of $15.00 per year, often more. Others of the same character followed, and in all there are about 2,000 trade unions in Great Britain and Ireland, with a membership of nearly 2,250,000, and an annual income of about $10,000,000. The purposes of the union are various. The mutual aid and benefit feature is secondary to the protective purpose, which is to secure the most favorable conditions of labor that can be obtained. This includes efforts to raise wages and to prevent their fall, reduction of hours of labor and pre vention of their increase, the regulation of apprentices, overtime, piecework, and many other difficulties which arise in the complicated relations of labor and capital. It is generally acknowledged that the trade union has reached its highest state of organization and power in Great Britain, and that the British workman, in consequence, controls the situation more fully than in any other country. This form of organization has only of late years appeared on the continent of Europe, freedom to combine having been denied THE HERO OF THE STRIKE, COAL CREEK, TENN. [n 1892 a period ofgreatlabor agitation began, lasting for si f the roost heroic figures of those troublesome times Dg the infuriated mini • >cek. D 60 > a a >» °» O 0.2. •" ° S S -s-S ■£ ° J3-C i : 2£ 3 E El -QLUTION IN INDUSTRY 559 to workmen in most countries until late in the century. There are excellent unions in the Australian colonies, both these ami those of the mother coun- try being superior in organization and influence to the trade unions of the United . States, though those of the latter country have gained much in power and cohesion in recent years. The first great combination of all trades was the International YVork- ingmen's Association, founded in London in 1847, and in- _ . ... The Interna- tended to combine the industrial classes throughout Europe. tional Work- Dr. Karl Marx gave it a definite organization on the con- logmen's As- tinent in 1864. hut it was there warped widely trom its orig- inal purpose, became a held for anarchists, and came to an end in 1872. In the United States a general organization called the Knights of Labor was formed in 1869, and at one time had a membership of a million, but has now greatly decreased, being largely replaced by the American Federation of Labor, an association of trade unions of very large membership. Of single trade organizations probably the most powerful in this country is the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners, with more than 60,000 members. The International Typographical Union, the oldest in America, has a membership of over 40,000, and there are many others of great strength. The weapon of offense with which the labor organization seeks to gain its ends is the strike, in which the artisans quit work for the purpose of forcing employers to grant their demands, and endeavor to prevent others from taking their place. The reverse of this is the lock-out, an expedient adopted by capitalists for the purpose of obliging workmen to yield to their demands. During the century under consideration strikes have been very numer- ous both in England and America, many of them of great dimensions and serious results. It must suffice to speak of some of the more important of those within the United States. In 1803 occurred a strike of sailors in New York, often spoken of as the first strike in this ... The System of country, though there seem to have been several in the the strike preceding century. A strike of Philadelphia shoemakers took place in 1S05 and one of New York cordwainers in 1809, while as time went on strikes became frequent, with varying results of success and failure. Violence was at times resorted to, and in the early days strikers were tried for conspiracy. As population increased and labor associa- tions became stronger, strikes grew greatly in dimensions, and were fre- quently attended with bloodshed ami destruction. Such was the case with the famous railroad strike of 1S77, which interrupted traffic over great part of the country for a week, and resulted in acts of sanguinary violence at 5 6o EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY Pittsburg. There a lawless mob joined the strikers, the militia were attacked and lives were lost, and the railroad buildings Great American , 111 1 1 1 • 1 Strikes an " cars were burned, the total loss being estimated at $5,000,000. The coal miners of Pennsylvania joined the strike, and in all about 150,000 men stopped work. Since that date strikes have been very numerous and some of them of great proportions. Among these, one of the most notable was that which began in Chicago on May 1, 18S6, in which fully 40,000 men took part. On the 4th, when the disorder was at its height, a meeting of Anarchists was held, in the streets, which the police attempted to disperse on account of the violent and threatening language used. While doing so a dynamite bomb was thrown in their midst, which killed several and wounded about sixty of the officers. This action was denounced by workingmen throughout the country and excited general horror and detestation. Another serious strike took place at the Carnegie Steel-Works, at Homestead, Pa., in 1892, which was also attended with bloodshed, the workmen firing on a force of detectives hired to protect the works. The disturbance became so great that the whole military force of Pennsylvania had to be called out. Two years afterwards Chicago was the scene of a great railroad strike, directed against the Pullman Car Works of that city. The movement of trains was greatly interfered with, and in the end President Cleveland sent United States troops to Chicago to maintain order and pro- tect the movement of the mails. That the difficulty between capital and labor will ever be settled by the strike and the lock-out cannot be expected, though these methods of warfare have had the effect of producing some degree of wholesome fear on both sides, and of rendering each more likely to offer concessions Arbitration and . • , 1 ■ , 1 1 1 r 1 • r at Profit Sharing than to indulge in a costly and doubtful strite. A disposition to replace violent measures by peaceful arbitration is grow- ing up, while in some instances employers have agreed to share a portion of their profits with their employees. This system of profit sharing, origi- nating in France, has been extended to other countries, and appears to heive proved very generally successful. Workmen act as if they were real partners in the business, and had their own interests to serve. They do more and better work, and are more careful in the use of tools and mate- rials, so that in some instances the increased profit arising from their carefulness and diligence has covered their share of the proceeds, leaving that of their employers undiminished. Strikes have almost ceased to exist in such institutions, and the future of profit-sharing is full of promise. E VOL UTh W IN INDUSTR Y 5 6i But expedients which leave the existing system practically unchanged can have only a temporary and partial utility. The cause of the difficulty appears to lie deeper and to call for more radical changes. It is not easy to believe that a system of perpetual protest and frequent strife is Experiments a natural one, and it seems as if it must in the future he and Theories replaced by some more peaceful and satisfactory relation be- m conomics tween capital and labor. During the nineteenth century the labor problem has given rise to a number of experiments and theories looking towards its solution, an account of which is here in place-. The chief of the experiments alluded to is that of co-operation, the association of workingmen as producers, a democratic organization of labor calculated, if successfully instituted, to bring the present system to an end, and replace it by one in which the division into employer and employee, capitalist and artisan, will cease to exist, each workman embracing both of these in his single person, the combined property of the group representing the capital of the concern and the profits being equitably divided. This seemingly promising solution of the problem has not hitherto proved satis- factory in practice". In most cases experience and skill in management have been wanting, and the placing of ambitious and influential members of the association in the positions of business manager and financier, regardless of their adaptation to these duties, has wrecked more than one promising co-operative concern. But while most of such manufacturing associations of workingmen have failed, some have succeeded, and the story of the latter seems to show that there is nothing false in the principle, the failure being due to the results of injudicious management, as above indicated. The successful associations have accumulated large capital, pay good dividends, and are noted for the honesty of their operations and the unusual industry of their members, each of whom feels that the profit °A°^cfations from increased or superior product will come to himself. Of co-operative institutions now in existence, the most famous is that of the Rochdale Pioneers, founded at Rochdale, England, in 1S44. This associa- tion, organized by twenty-eight poor weavers with a capital of twenty-eight pounds, at first as a distributive enterprise, is now a rich and flourishing institution, which adds manufacturing to its distributive interests. At first these poor pioneers, who had very slowly collected their small capital of one pound each, opened a store to supply themselves with pro- visions, having only four articles to sell— flour, butter, sugar and oatmeal. They limited interest on shares to five per cent., and divided profits among members in proportion to their purchases, a system which proved highly 5 6 2 E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y advantageous. From the first this organization was successful, and by 1 85 7 it had 1,850 members, a capital of ,£15,000, and annual sales of ,£80,000. Since then its growth has continued rapid, and it is now in a high state of prosperity. There were co-operative societies in Great Britain long before the date of this, and many have been started since, nearly all of them being in the form of co-operative stores, of which the Army and Navy Stores are among the most flourishing. There are now in that country probably over 1,500 of these associations, with a million of members, a capital of more than ,£10,000,000, and profits of over ,£3,000,000 annually. In 1864 there was founded at Manchester a Wholesale Society to supply goods to these stores, and a second at Glasgow in 1869 — the two being now practically one institu- tion. This society purchases and forwards goods, and owns a number of steamships of its own, which traffic with cities on the continent. Its manu- facturing industries are also large, including boot and shoe factories at Leicester, soap works at Durham, woolen-cloth mills at Batley, and other factories elsewhere. There are in addition mills and factories carried on by retail societies, the annual production by these associations being probably considerably over £5,000,000. It will be perceived from the above statement that the workmen's co-operative enterprises in Great Britain comprise one of the important institutions of the country, one that has become firmly established during the latter half of the nineteenth century, and may grow enormously in importance during the twentieth. It is likely to play a prominent part in the solution of the labor question. In no other country has this form of association flourished. In France profit-sharing has made a much greater progress, and ordinary co-operation has met with slight success. In Germany and Austria co-operation has taken the form of people's banks. These originated in 184Q Co-operation in r r . ° _ J Europe and at the little town of Delitzsch, in Saxony, and have flourished the United greatly, there being several thousand societies in the German States . states, with probably two million members and a very large business. There are also in Germany a considerable number of productive associations and co-operative dairies, while the latter have greatly flourished in Denmark. In Italy the people's banks have made marked progress, and there are several hundred co-operative dairies, bakeries and other en- terprises. Co-operation has made no decided progress in the United States, it being most developed in New England, where it takes the form of associa- tions of fishermen, of creameries and banks. In Philadelphia co-operative building societies have provided workmen with more than 100,000 homes. E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 563 The co-operative store has not flourished, and associated manufacture has made little progress, though profit-sharing has been introduced into ni. large stores and factories. Such is the status of the experimental development in associated manufacturing and distributive enterprise. The theoretical phase of this question has gone much further, and has given rise to an extensive popular movement whose final outcome it is not easy to predict. This is really, in its way, an extension of the co-operative idea, being an attempt to make co-operation national, the entire nation becoming one great co-operative association, and the functions of government being extended to cover production and distribution of the necessaries of life, in addition to its present duties. This theory is most commonly known as The Theories of Socialism, though also entitled Nationalism and Collect- Socialism and . ■ T • • ■ 1 .. • 1 r 1 1 .. Anarchism ivism. Its main purpose is industrial reform, but it seeks to produce by political means what the trade union has attempted to do by non-political agitation. An opposite doctrine, which has man)- adherents, is known as Anarchism, whose platform contemplates the overthrow of existing institutions and the rebuilding of society from its elements upon the basis of local grouping. This doctrine has attracted to itself much of the ignorant and violent element of the European populations, and has been seriously discredited by the outrages committed by its members. Prominent examples of these were the massacre of the police in Chicago, already mentioned, the excesses of the Commune in Paris, and the acts of violence ot the Russian Nihilists. The theory itself is philosophical, even if impracticable, and has been advocated by a number of able men who cannot be charged with its excesses. Returning to the doctrines of Socialism, it may be said that it was preceded by the conception of Communism, or equal distribution of the proceeds of labor among the members of a community. This has long since passed from the stage of belief to that of experiment, many Communistic societies having been founded in both societies ancient and modern times. The Essenes, prominent in Pales- tine in the time of Christ, were one of the ancient examples. In modern times the United States has been a favorite field for the founding of Com- munistic societies, probably from the reason that they were less likely to come into conflict with existing institutions than in Europe. The best known of those societies of a religious character comprise the Dunkers, founded at Ephrata, Pennsylvania, in 1 7 1 3 ; the Harmony Society, established in 1824, and still in existence at Economy, near Pittsburg ; the Separatist Community, established at /oar, Ohio, in 1817; the Shakers, 564 E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y first organized at Watervliet, N. Y., in 1774 ; and the Perfectionists, founded by John H. Noyes, at Putney, Vermont, in 1837. Several others, less well known, might be named, but it must be said that the persistence of several of these organizations has been mainly due to the religious enthusiasm of their members, and is in no sense a proof of the economic correctness of their principle. Many of them require celibacy of their members, while the Per- fectionist Society practiced free love until broken up by the strong disap- proval of the community. In addition to these religious experiments in Communism, a number of secular communistic societies have been founded in this country. Promi- nent among these was that established by Robert Owen, in 1824, at New Secular Com- Harmony, Indiana. Every effort was made to promote the munistic success of this enterprise, and ten other communities on the Experiments same principle were organized elsewhere, but they all failed in a few years, and the Owenite movement came to an end in this country by 1832. A second example was the celebrated Brook Farm enterprise, first sug- gested by Dr. Channing, and founded at West Roxbury, Mass., in 1841. It included the most remarkable group of men and women ever embraced in such an undertaking, among its members being Emerson, Hawthorne, Dana, Ripley, Alcott, and other well known literary men. Its business man- agement was anything but practical, and it came to an end in 1847. The form of community suggested by Fourier, the French theorist, was abun- dantly tried in the United States, where thirty-three communities or "phalanxes" were founded in the years 1842-53. They had all failed by 1855. The result of these efforts to establish societies where everything shall be in common between the members, of which hundreds have been founded and none persisted for more than a few years, except where sustained by religious fanaticism, does not speak well for the practical nature of com- munism. The mass of the people have always kept away from it, and its abrogation of the principle of personal reward for personal effort seems likely to prevent its ever becoming successful. Socialism was originally similar to Communism, but as now under- stood and advocated differs essentially from it, since the principle of equal division of property or products is no longer maintained. Development of Nationalism, or the ownership of all productive property and Socialism r l . . , all manufactures and their products by the nation, with the complete distribution of profits among the people, on the basis of the value to the community of the labor or service of each person, is the existing E I '( )L in ION IN INDUSTRY 565 form of Socialism. Originated and developed within the nineteenth tury, it has now become one of the prominent social and political move, ments of the age, and some brief description of it is here in order. h ranee is the birth place of Socialism in its primary form. Two writers, Mably and Morelly, advanced a scheme for a communistic reorganization of society about the middle of the eighteenth century, and in 1796 a commun- istic conspirary to revolutionize the government, organized by a man named Babeuf, at the head of a society called the Equals, was discovered and sup- pressed. Later arose Robert Owen in England, with his communistic scheme, and St. Simon and Fourier in France, whose plans were onlv in part communistic. A more properly Socialistic movement was attempted by Louis Blanc in Paris during the revolution of 1848, when national work- shops for the industrial classes of France were established. In Paris 150,- OOO workmen were employed in these shops, but they were closed after a brief trial. Their failure, it is claimed, was largely the result of bad man- agement. Of recent English Socialistic movements may be named that of Maurice and Kingsley, the originators of Christian Socialism, which con- tinues to exercise an important influence. After 1850 the socialistic movement temporarily declined in France and Great Britain, but it gained a great impetus in Germany, under the teachings of certain able and skillful advocates. German Socialism first became active in 1S63, through the efforts of Ferdinand Lasalle, though it had earlier supporters. He proposed to establish a German workman's republic, with himself as president; but ended his " s a ean career in the following year, being killed in a duel. After his death his system of "social democracy" fell under the control of the notable Karl Marx, a writer of original genius, to whom Socialism as it exists to-day is largely due. The International Association of Workingmen, as reorganized by him in 1864, changed its purpose from an industrial to a political Diie, and soon became a threatening compound of dangerous elements. It was socialistic in aim. having, below its declared purpose of the protection and emancipation of the working classes, schemes for the abolition of the wages system, the state: control of all property, and the grading of compensation for labor on the basis of time: occupied, instead of on the more logical basis of ability and industry shown and value of product. Karl Marx's famous work "Capital," is the ablest and most logical exposition of the socialistic theor) yet produced, and has exerted a power- ful influence on recent thought. It set in motion a great political and social movement which has grown with extraordinary rapidity, in spite of 566 E I 'OL UTION IN IND USTR Y repressive laws against it, and has given rise to a large number of volumes dealing with the subject, some of which have had a phenom- The Literature ena j sa j e j^ e popular little volume entitled " Merrie Eng- of Socialism A 1 5> land " is said to have sold to the number of considerably more than a million copies, while Bellamy's " Looking Backward," which advocates a communistic organization of society, has had a sale of several hundred thousands. In recent years Socialism has spread upward from the working classes and gained many advocates among the leaders of thought. It has had a con- siderable development in all western Europe, and particularly in Germany, in which country the Socialists form a powerful political party, which as early as 1887 polled eleven per cent, of the total vote, and gained a considerable membership in the Reichstag. By 1890 its vote had so largely increased that liberalism obtained a majority in the Reichstag. At the end of the ^. * ^, century the Social Democrat party had =;6 members in the Growth of the J . Socialist Reichstag as contrasted with 54 members of the German Party m Conservatives. The remainder of the 396 members were divided among a number of parties, the Clericals or Centre being the strongest, with 104 members. As will be seen from these figures, Socialism has made a remarkable advance in that country, having within less than forty years become a power in Parliament. The time may come in the near future when it will be the controlling party in legislature and government. In the United States Socialism has grown with less rapidity, yet within recent years it has sprung into political importance in the rapid growth of the Populist party, organized in 1S92. This new organization gained five senators and eleven representatives in Congress in the year of its origin. In 1896, while its success was no greater, it had the striking effect of gaining the adhesion of the Democratic party, not only to the Free Silver plank in its platform, but to some of its more socialistic features. There are The Populist probably very many citizens of this country of strongly social- Party in the istic views who are opposed to the radical measures advocated by the Populists, and the real strength of Socialism in the United States may be much greater than is commonly supposed. It is shown in other directions than that of party affiliation, and at the end of the century was particularly indicated in the movement for the municipal ownership of street railways, gas works, and other forms of what are known as public utilities. This movement has gone farther in Europe than in this country, several nations owning their railway and telegraph plants, while municipal control of street railways and other public utilities is becoming E VOL UTION IN IND USTR Y 567 general. In short, it would be difficult to point to a popular movement in the history of the world that has made a more rapid and substantial advance than has Socialism within the past forty years. As the nineteenth century approached its end a new element in the economic situation, which had been displaying itself in some measure for a considerable number of years, suddenly assumed a striking prominence in the United Stales, and remarkably transformed the industrial situation. This was the element of the combination of distributive ami The Develop- manufacturing enterprises, shown at first in the growth oi ment of the the department stores and the pooling of manufacture interests, and later in the formation of trusts and monopolies, powerful corporations of industrial interests, which assumed gigantic proportions in 1898 and tlie succeeding years. Several of these great organizations, absorbing- all the factories or plants of the special trades concerned into single vast corporations, have been in existence for years. Most prominent of these are the Sugar Trust and the Standard Oil Company, which have eliminated the element of com- petition from those industries and accumulated their profits in the hands oi a few great capitalists. The complete control of important productive interests gained by these groups of capitalists has instigated those: connected with other lines of pro- duction to similar methods, and the formation of trusts has gone on at an accelerating ratio, until all the great and many ol the minor industries of the country have formed trust organizations, while a large number of estab- lishments have been closed, and thousands of workmen and other employees dismissed. The result of all this has been to p a state ol affairs in which competition, so long considered the life ol trade, is practically elimin; from many branches of industry, while the opportunities for .,.,,' , • , , , , Probable Effect individual enterprise, which have been active tor so many cen- f Trusts turies, have in great part vanished. Uneconomic situation ns at hand in which the mass of the community will b ed to assume the position of employees, the class of employers being reduced to a few very rich men, absorbing the profits of industry and holding the remainder of the community in a condition ing servitude. Such an undesirable co industrial affairs as is here threatened has naturally aroused a stn ling of opposition, and the forces of the community are being marshalled to prevent such a radical revolution in industry. Just how the brake is to be applied is not clear. It is not easy to prevent capital from pooling its forces, and legislation may fail to find a 56S EVOLUTION IN INDUSTRY remedy which will reach the root of the disease. Yet a cure must come, in one way or the other — the trust movement being either reversed or carried forward to its logical conclusion. It is being widely recognized and acknow- ledged, even by some of the trust potentates themselves, that the movement thus inaugurated is likely to hasten the advent of socialistic institutions. To What the The abolition of individual enterprise under the trust must Trust Must eventually become almost as extreme as it would be in a Lead socialistic community, and if the trust movement continues the principal objection to socialism will be removed. It must be evident to all that the tyranny of a group of irresponsible and grasping capitalists, ambi- tious to obtain enormous wealth, will be much greater than that of officials chosen as the servants of the people, and subject to removal at their will, can ever become. The Roman despot wished that all the Roman people had but one neck, that he might cut it off with a single blow. Capital is in a measure reducing itself to this condition, and the people may in time cut off its head in a similar manner. It is easier to deal with the few than with the many, and the relation into which capital and labor has now come can have, sooner or later, only one or the other of two endings. As above said, the evolution now in operation must go forward or go back- ward ; gfo backward until the former state of affairs is regained, or gfo forward until industrial slavery grows complete, in which case the people will, in the end, inevitably rebel. It is impossible for such a movement to stop half way, one result or the other must inevitably come, either a return to individualism or a progress to collectivism. Which it shall be depends upon the people themselves. The power is in their hands the moment they elect to cast aside their differences and act in concert, and the pres- An Industrial , . ........ , . Revolution ence oi a great danger or an intolerable situation is the one thing to bring them to this common action. In such a case it will rest with themselves which status of industry they prefer, the old state of individualism and competition or a new state of collectivism and industrial alliance. Though it is but dimly recognized, the world of industry is in the throes of a revolution, the final result of nineteenth century development, and it must be left for the twentieth century to decide what the outcome of this revolution is to be. CHAPTER XXXIX. Charles Darwin and the Development of Science SCIENCE by no means belongs to the nineteenth century. It has been extant upon the earth ever since man began to observe and consider the marvels of the universe. We can trace it back to an age possibly ten thousand years remote, when men began to watch and record the move- ments of the stars in the heavens above the broad Babylonian plain. It grew active among the Greeks of Alexandria in that too brief „ & . ° _ Progress of period before the hand of war checked for centuries the pro- Scientific Dis- gress of mankind. It rose again in Europe during the medi- covery m the seval period, and became active during the later centuries of this period. In the centuries immediately preceding the nineteenth num- bers of great scientists arose, and many highly important discoveries were made, while theoretical science achieved a remarkable progress, its ranks being adorned by such names as those of Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, New- ton, and various others of world-wide fame that might be given. Thus at the dawn of the nineteenth century there existed a great groundwork of scientilic facts and theories upon which to build the massive future edifice. This building has been going on with extraordinary rapidity during the present century, and to-day our knowledge of the facts of science is im- mensely greater than that of our predecessors of a century ago ; while of the views entertained and theories promulgated previous to 1800, _ . .... . t . r & r Scientific Acti- the great sum have been thrown overboard and replaced by vityofthe others founded upon a much wider and deeper knowledge of Nineteenth - r r & Century facts. New and important theoretical views of science have been reached in all departments. Recent chemistry, for instance, is a very different thing from the chemistry of a century ago. Geology has been largely trans- formed within the century. Heat, once supposed to be a substance, is now known to be a motion ; light, formerly thought to be a direct motion of particles, is now believed to be a wave motion; new and important concep- tions have been reached concerning electricity and magnetism ; and our knowledge of the various sciences that have to do with the world of life is extraordinarily advanced. As for the practical applications of science, it 569 57° CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE may suffice to present the startling fact that the substance of the atmos- phere, scarcely known a century ago, can now be reduced to a liquid and carried about like water in a bucket. In view of the facts here briefly stated it might almost be said that science, as it exists to-day, is a result of nineteenth century thought and observation ; since that of the past was largely theoretical and the bulk of its theories have been set aside, while the scientific observations of former times were but a drop in the bucket as compared with the vast multitude of those of the past hundred years. As regards the utilization of scientific facts, their application to the benefit of mankind, this is almost solely the work of the century under review, and in no direction has invention pro- duced more wonderful and useful results. Alfred Russell Wallace, one of the most distinguished scientists of recent times, in his work entitled " The Wonderful Century," has made a Wallace's careful inventory of the discoveries and inventions to which "Wonderful the progress of mankind is mainly due, and he divides them into two groups, the first embracing all the epoch-making discoveries achieved by men previous to the present century, and the second taking in the steps of progress of equal importance which have been made in the nineteenth century. In the first list he finds only fifteen items of the highest rank, and the claims of some even of these to a separate place are not beyond question, since they may not really be of epoch-making char- acter. He puts first in the list the following, viz. : Alphabetic writing and the Arabic notation, which have always been powerful engines of knowledge and discovery. Their inventors are unknown, lost in the dim twilight of prehistoric times. As the third great discovery of ancient times he names the development of geometry. Coming after a vast interval to the four- teenth century A. D., we find the mariner's compass, and in the fifteenth the printing press, both of which beyond question are of the same character and rank as alphabetic writing. From the sixteenth century we get no physical invention or discovery of leading importance, but it witnessed an amazing' movement of the human mind, which in eood time gave rise to the Epoch-Making great catalogue of advances of the seventeenth century. To Discoveries of this he credits the invention of the telescope, and, though not of equal rank, the barometer and thermometer (which he classes as one discovery), and in other fields the discovery of the differential calculus, of gravitation, of the laws of planetary motion, of the circulation of the blood, and the measurement of the velocity of light. To the eight- eenth century he refers the more important of the earlier steps in the evolu- tion of the steam engine and the foundation of both modern chemistry CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 571 and electrical science. This completes the list. To the above many w add Jenner's discovery of vaccination and probably several others. Each writer, in making up such a list, would be governed in a measure by his personal range of studies, but no one would be likely to deviate widely from the above list. Now what has been the record since 1 800 ? How does the nineteenth cetury compare with its predecessors? In Wallace's view it , , .... ... (ireat Dis= is not to be compared, as regards scientific progress and dis- coveriesof covery, with any single century, but with all past time. In the Nine- fact, it far outstrips the entire progress oi mankind in the ages preceding 1800. Estimating on the same basis as that which he previously adopted, Wallace finds twenty-four discoveries and inventions of the first class that have had their origin in the nineteenth century, against the fifteen enumer- ated from all previous time. Of the same rank with Newton's theory of gravitation, which comes from the seventeenth century, stands out the doctrine of the correlation and conservation of forces, one oi the widest and most far reaching general- izations that the mind ol man has yet reached. Against Kepler's laws of planetary motions from the seventeenth century we can set the nebular theory of the nineteenth. The telescope of the seventeenth is matched by the spectroscope of the nineteenth. If the first reveals to us myriads of suns, otherwise unseen, scattered through the illimitable fields of space, the second tells us what substances compose these suns and maintain their distant fires, and, most wonderful of all, the direction and the rate in which each is moving. Harvey's immortal discovery of the seventeenth century finds a full equivalent in the germ theory of disease of the nineteenth. The mariner's compass of the fourteenth century easily yields first place to the electric telegraph of the nineteenth, while the barometer and thermometer of the seventeenth century are certainly less wonderful, though perhaps not less serviceable, than the telephone and phonograph and the Rontgen rays of our own day. We may more briefly enumerate the remaining discoveries cited by Wallace, partly, as will be perceived, mechanical, but mainly results of scientific research. Early in the century came the inestima- Usefuland ble inventions of the railway engine and the steamboat, and Scientific somewhat later the minor but highly useful discoveries of the steps of Progress lucifer match and of gas illumination. These were quickly followed by the wonderful discovery of photography, than which few things have added more to the enjoyment of man. Equally important in relation 572 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE to his relief from suffering are the remarkable discoveries of anaesthetics and the antiseptic method in surgery. Another of the great discoveries of the age is that of the electric light, with its remarkably rapid develop- ment and utilization. More purely scientific In character are Mendeljeff's discovery of the periodic law in chemistry, the molecular theory of matter, the direct measurement of the velocity of light, and the remarkable utility of floating dust in meteorology. The list concludes with the geological theory of the glacial age, the discovery of the great antiquity of man, the cell theory and the doctrine of embryological development, and last, but, in pure science, perhaps the greatest, Darwin's famous theory of organic evolution — devel- oped by Spencer into universal evolution. It is quite possible that other nineteenth century scientists would be tempted to expand this list, and perhaps add considerably to Wallace's twenty-four epoch-making discoveries. Indeed, since his book was written, a twenty-fifth has arisen, in the discovery of wireless telegraphy, the scientific marvel of the end of the century, too young as yet for its vast possibilities to be perceived. We might also mention the electric motor and liquid air as of equal importance with some of those enumerated. An interestingf review of the advances made in science during the nineteenth century was offered by Sir Michael Foster, President of the British Association in its 1S99 meeting, from which we may quote. He first touched upon chemistry. The ancients, he said, thought that but four Foster's Views elements existed — fire, air, earth, and water. Anything like a on Recent correct notion of the composition of matter dates from the latter part of the eighteenth century, when Priestley and Lavoisier revealed to the world the nature of oxygen, and thus led to a long series of fruitful discoveries. The whole history of electricity as a servant of man is confined to the last sixty or seventy years, and really springs from Volta's invention of the galvanic battery. Frictional electricity had long been known, but nothing beyond curious laboratory experiments were conducted with it. The investi- gations and discoveries of Oersted and Faradav, which made possible the telegraph, dynamo, trolley car and telephone, followed Volta's discovery of the means of producing a steady current of electricity — first announced in 1799. Geology, too, he states to be a new born science. Although numerous ingenious theories were entertained in regard to the origin and significance of the rock strata, it was only at the close of the eighteenth century that men began to recognize that the earth's crust, with its various layers of rock, was CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OE SCIENCE 573 avast book of history, each leaf of which told of periods of thousands oi millions of years. The slow processes of formation, ami the embedding of the remains of the animal and vegetable life of those ancient times, were only interpreted aright after Hutton, Playfair and Cuvier had wrestled with the problem. With these interesting views of prominent scientists, we mayprocei a more detailed consideration of the scientific triumphs of the century. To present anything other than the headlights of its progress, in the space at our command, would be impossible, in view of the extraordinary accumula- tion of facts made by its many thousands of observers, and the multitude of generalizations, of the most varied character, offered by the thinkers in the domain of science;. These generalizations Headlights o • • 1 1 i-i m r Progress vary m importance as much as they do in character. Many 01 them are evidently temporary only, and must fall before the future progress of discovery; others are founded upon such a multitude of significant facts, and are of such inherent probability, that they seem likely to be as permanent as the theories of Galileo, Kepler, Newton, and others ol the older worthies. Beginning with astronomy, the oldest and noblesl of I 5, we could record a vast number of minor discover, shall confine ourselves to the major ones. Progress in astronomy has kept in close pace with development in instruments. The tel of the end of the century, for i tnce, has enormously greater s rietrating and star-defining powers than that used at the beginning, and has added extraordinarily to our knowledge of the number of stars, the character of their groupings, and the constitution of solar orbs and nebulae. These results have been greatly addded to by the use of the camera in astronomy, the photo- graph revealing stellar secrets which could never have been D 'scovenes in 1 & Astronomy Jearned by the aid of the telescope alone. This has also the great advantage of placing on record the positions of the stars at any fixed moment, and thus rendering comparatively easy the detection of motions among them. But it is to a new instrument of research, the spectroscope, that we owe our most interesting knowledge of the stars. This wonderful instru- ment enables us to analyze the ray of light itself, to study the many lines by which the vari-colored spectrum is crossed and discover to what substances certain groups of lines are due. From studying with this instru- Reve | ations ot ment the substances which compose the earth, science has taken the Spectro- to studying the stars, and has found that not only our sun, ,cope but suns whose distance is almost beyond the grasp of thought, are made up largely of chemical substances similar to those that exist in the earth. 574 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE A second result of the use of this instrument has been to prove that there are true nebulae in the heavens, masses of star dust or vapor not yet gathered into orbs, and that there are dark suns, great invisible orbs, which have cooled until they have ceased to give off light. A third result is the power of tracing the motions of stars which are passing in a direct line to or from the earth. By this means it has been found that many of the double or multiple stars are revolving around each other. A late discovery in this direction, made in 1899, ' s tnat tne Polar star, which appears single in the most powerful telescope, is really made up of three stars, two of which revolve round each other every four hours, while the two circle round a more distant companion. Late astronomy has revealed to us many marvels of the solar system. Before the nineteenth century it was not known that any planetary bodies existed between Mars and Jupiter. On the first day of the century — January I, 1 801 — Ceres, the first of the asteroids or planetoids, was discovered. New Facts in Three others were soon discovered, and later on smaller ones the Solar began to be found in multitudes, so that by the end of the System century not less than four hundred and fifty of these small planetary bodies were known. Of other discoveries we may briefly refer to the new facts discovered concerning comets and meteors, planets and satellites, the condition of the sun's surface, the detailed knowledge of the surface conditions of Mars and the Moon, the character of Saturn's rings, the dis- covery of the planet Neptune, etc., all clue to nineteenth century research. In the group of sciences known under the general title of Physics —chemistry, light, heat, electricity, and magnetism — the progress has been equally decided and many of the discoveries of almost startling signifiance, Chemistry, as it exists to-day, is almost wholly a child of the century. Many chemical substances were known in the past, but their number sinks into insignificance as compared with those of late discovery. Of chemical conceptions of earlier date, Dalton's theory of atoms is the only one of importance that still exists. The view long maintained — until The Advance of j t j n t | le n ; neteent h century, in fact — that organic and Chemistry . J & inorganic chemistry are separated from each other by a wide gap, is no longer held. Hundreds of organic substances, some of them of great complexity, have been made in the chemist's laboratory, and can now be classed as properly with inorganic as with organic substances. The gap has been closed, and there is now but one chemistry. Only the most intri- cate chemical compounds still lie beyond the chemist's grasp, and the isola- tion of these may be at any time overthrown. Organic chemistry has become simply the chemistry of carbon-compounds. BARON F. H. ALEXAND1 K von HUMBOLDT. I i 1 1 I- \GA CHARLES DARWIN. ILLUSTRIOUS MEN O F SCI ENC E. 19TH CENTURY THOMAS H. HUXLEY PASTEUR IN HIS LABORATORY The discovery of the mission of the exceedingly minute organisms known as bacteria in producing disease ranks among the greatest and most beneficient of our age. By it the art of the physician was first raised to the rank of a science. The honor of this discovery belongs to Louis Pasteur, the eminent French chemist and biologist. CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVEL0PMEN7 OF SCIENCE 577 One chemical theory of recent date, the vortex atom theory of Lord Kelvin, has quickly met its fate, being abandoned by its author him- he study of it has been rich in results. It is now widely held thai iniverse is made up of two great basic elements, ether and matter, 01 >erhaps o\w only, since it seems highly probable that the atom of matter is l minute, self coherent mass of ether. It is further held as doubtful that Ltoms ever exist alone, they being combined by their attractions into small >odies known as molecules, which are in incessant motion, and to whose ictivity the physical force of the universe is largely due. One of the most important chemical discoveries of the century was that >f the "periodic law" of the chemical elements, advanced by the Russian dentist Mendeljeff, under which the weights of the atoms of the elements vere for the first time placed in harmony with each other, and a fixed Himerical relation shown to exist between them. We may conclude this >rief glance at the science by mention of the very high temperature which he electric furnace has now placed at the command of chemists, and the :qually great refrigeration now attainable, by which the air itself can easily ie liquified ami even frozen into a solid ma Light, naturally one of the earliest of the phenomena of nature to .ttract the attention of man, was little understood until after the advent if the nineteenth century. It was of old supposed to lie a , , • 1 • 1 11 ■ Light and Its uostance 01 so rapid motion as to be practically instantaneous phenomena n its movement through space. Even Newton looked upon t as a substance given olf by shining bodies, and it remained for Youn^ he beeinning of the nineteenth century, to prove that light is not a sub- tance but a motion, a series of rapid waves or undulations in a substance ixtending throughout space, and known as the lumeniferous ether. The dea that light is instantaneous in its motion also vanished when Roemer iiscovered, by observing the- eclipses of Jupiter's moons, that it takes about :ight minute, for the ray of light to travel from the sun to the earth. \. cannon ball moving at the rate of 1,700 feet per second would take ibout nine years to make the same journey, the wave of light traveling at he extraordinary speed of over 186,000 miles in a second. Yet immensely apid as is this rate of movement, we do not need to go to the sun and danets to measure the speed of light, but can now do so, by the use of lelicaie instruments, on a few miles of the earth's surface. This is on of he great discoveries enumerated by Wallace. The discoveries in relation to the constitution and characteristics of tght made during the century have been so numerous that we must con )urselves to those of major importance. Much might be said about the 32 5 7 8 CHA RLES BAR I VI N AND BE VEL ( )PMENT OF SCIENCE phenomena of polarization, refraction, diffraction, photography, and the de- velopment of the power of lenses, to which the great advance in telescopic and microscopic observation is due. Among these steps of progress perhaps the most interesting is the development of instantaneous photo- eries in Optics g ra phy> a striking result of which is the power, by aid of pho- tographs taken in rapid succession, of portraying objects in motion — living pictures, as they are called — an exhibit now so common and so marvelous. But among all the advances in the science of optics the most important are spectrum analysis and the Rontgen ray. The remarkable discoveries made in astronomy by the former of these have been already stated. The Rontgen ray, which has the power of rendering ordinarily opaque substances transparent, has become of extraordinary value in surgery, as showing the exact location of foreign substances within the body, the position and character of bone fractures, etc. Heat, once looked upon as a substance, and known by the now obsolete name of Caloric, has been demonstrated to be, like light, a motion, the incessant leaping about of the molecules of matter, this motion being readily transferable from one substance to another, and forming- the "Teat substra- turn of power in the universe. This theory, first promulgated by Count Rumford, an American by birth, was fully worked out by others, and put in popular form by Professor Tyndall, an English scientist, in his of notion "Heat Considered as a Mode of Motion," published in 1862. Radiant heat is identical with light, being a vibration of the ether. Tt may be further said in relation to heat phenonema that remark- able power in producing very high and extremely low temperatures is nx)w possessed. By the former the most refractory substances may be vaporized. By the latter the most volatile gases may be liquified and even frozen. The point of absolute zero, that in which all heat motion would disappear, is estimated to be at the temperature of 274 degrees 6 minutes centigrade below the freezing point of water. A degree of cold within some forty de- grees of this has been reached in the liquefaction of hydrogen. In 1889 tne climax in this direction was reached in the reduction, by Professor Dewar, of the very volatile element hydrogen to the solid state. Electricity, formerly, like heat and light, looked upon as a substance, is now known to be a motion, being, in fact, identical in origin with light Conservation ar >d radiant heat. All these forces are considered to be and Corr-h- motions of the lumeniferous ether, their principal distinction tion of Forces u • • l ..i r t r •,_ • ». being in length of wave. In fact, it is easy to convert one of them into the other, and the great doctrine of the conservation and correlation of forces means simply that heat, light and electricity may be CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 579 mutually transformed, and that no loss of motion or force takes plai e in these changes from one mode of motion to another. In the operation of the electric trolley car, to offer a familiar example, the heat power of coal is first transformed into engine motion, then into electricity, then again into light and heat within the car. then into mass motion in the motor, and finally passes away as electricity. No better example of the " correlation of forces" than this familiar instance could be adduced. As regards the nature of electricity, though innumerable observations have been made during the nineteenth century and a vast multitude of facts put upon record, we know little more than is above stated. But if we turn to the practical applications of electric power, it is to find these standing high among the great advances <>l the century. To it we owe the highly important discoveries of the telegraph and the telephone; the conversion of engine power into electricity by the dynamo and the use of this in moving cars, carriages and machinery; the storage pp lc f . lo " h ot ... . . . . Electricity battery, with its similar applications ; the use of electricity in lighting: and heating:, the latter remarkably exemplified in the electric fur- nace, which yields the highest temperature known on the earth ; the weld- ing of metals by electricity ; the electrotype and electro-plating ; the con- version of water power into electric force and its transportation by wire for long distances; the therapeutic uses of the electric current, and other applications too numerous to mention. In regard to the magnet, the handmaid of electric power, we know little other than that the force displayed by it seems to be a result of some mode of rotation in the atoms or molecules of matter, since all the effects of magnetism can be produced by the rotary motion of the electric cur- rent in spirals of wire. From this it is thought that the mole- Th l> * 'I cular motion to which magnetism is due may be of an electric e " ncip ..'"" & - of magnetism character, though the permanence of the magnetic force renders this very doubtful. It seems most probable that magnetism is a result of some special condition of the ordinary, inherent motions of atoms —not their fluctuating heat activities, but those fixed motions upon which their organization and persistence depend. The readiness with which soft iron can be magnetized and demagnetized by the use of the electric current is of extraordinary value in the practical applications of electricity. To this fact we owe the dynamo and th ill their varied uses. With this passing glance at tint physical forces, we may proceed to the consideration of the great science of geology, which, as above stated by Foster, is a new-born science, almost wholly of nineteenth century develop- ment. Geology as it now exists may be said to date from 1790, when 58o CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE William Smith published his "Tabular View," in which he showed the proper succession of the rock strata and pointed out that each group of rocks is marked by fossils peculiar to itself. With his work began that great series of close observations which still continue, and which have laid the constitu- tion of the earth's crust open before us in many of its intimate details. Among the many geologists of the century Sir Charles Lyell stands prominent, his " Principles of Geology " (1830-33) forming an epoch in the advance of the science. Before his time the seeming breaks in the series of the rocks were looked upon as the results of mighty catastrophes, vast upheavals or depressions in the surface, which worked widespread destruc- tion among animals and plants, these cataclysms being followed by new creations in the world of life. Lyell contended that the forces rogfess in now a t work are of the same type as those which have been Geology J r always at work ; that catastrophes have always been local, as they are now local; that general forces have acted slowly, and that there has been no world-wide break, either in rock deposits or the progress of human being-s. His views gave rise to a conception of the unbroken continuity of organic life which was greatly strengthened by the publication of Charles Darwin's " Origin of Species," which went far to do away with the old belief that each new life-form has arisen through special creation, and to replace it by the theory now widely held that all new forms of life arise through hereditary descent, with variation, from older forms. In this conception we have the basis of the recent theory of evolution, so thoroughly worked out and widely extended since Darwin's time — a theory including the doctrine that man himself is a result of descent, and not of special creation. With geology is closely connected the Nebular Hypothesis of Kant and Laplace, of eighteenth century origin, to the effect that all the spheres of space originated in the condensation and rotation of immense volumes of nebulous vapor, similar to the nebulae now known to exist in the heavens, and that each planet began its existence as a great gaseous globe, its evolution being due to the gradual process of cooling and condensing, by which its surface, and perhaps its whole mass, were in time converted The Nebular ' nto s °lid matter. This interesting doctrine of world evolu- and Meteoric tion does not remain unquestioned. A new hypothesis was advanced by Professor Lockyer in the final decade of the nineteenth century, to the effect that spheral evolution is not due to the condensation of o-aseous nebula;, but of vast aoweeations of those meteoric stones with which space seems filled, and which are drawn together by their mutual attractions, become intensely heated through their collisions, and are CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVEL0PMEN7 OF SCIENCE 581 converted into liquids ami through the heat th Ived. It is pos- sible that the visible nebula-, like the comets, are great volumes of such meteors. This is the meteoric theory referred to in Wallace's category of great discoveries. It is still, however, far from being established. Meteorology, the study of the atmosphere and its phenomena, is another science to which much attention was given during the century under review. A vast number of facts have been learned concerning the atmos- phere, its alternations of heat and cold, of calm and storm, of pressure, of diminution of density and loss of heat in eScenceo . . . . . . Meteorology ascending, and of its fluctuations in humidity, with the varia- tions of sunshine and cloud, fog, rain, snow, hail, lightning and other manifestations. The study of the winds has been a prominent feature in the progress of this science, and our knowledge of the causes and character of storms has been greatly developed. The theory that storms are Awe to great rotary movements in the atmosphere, immense cyclonic whirls, frequently followed by reverse, or anti-cyclonic, movements, has gone far to clear up the mystery of the winds, while the destructive tornado, the terrific local whirl in the winds, has been closely studied, though not yet fully understood. These close observations oi atmospheric changes have given rise to the Weather Bureau, by which the kind of weather to be looked for is pre- dicted for the United States. Similar observations and predictions have been widely extended among civilized nations. This is a practical applica- tion in meteorology which has been of immense advantage, particularly in the field of navigation. Of the sciences with which the nineteentn century has had much to '1", those relating to organic life, classed under the general title of biology, stand prominent, which includes botany and zoology. Sub- progress in the siduary to these are the sciences of anatomy, physiology, em- Biological bryology, psychology, anthropology, and several others of minor importance. We have, here laid out before us a very large subject, which has made remarkable progress during the past hundred years, much too great to handle except in brief general terms. In botany and zoology alike, the development of the cell theory is one of the most conspicuous advances of the century. It has been shown clearly that all plants and animals are made up of minute cells, semi-fluid in consis- tency, and principally made up oi a highly org, mi/ mical compound known as protoplasm, which Huxley has denominated the "physical basis ol life." These cells are the laboratories of the system. Motions and chan take place within them. They increase in size and divide in a peculiar 5S2 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE manner, thus growing in number. Many of them have self-motion like that of the low forms known as amoebae. Various chemical substances are elab- orated in them, such as the osseous structure of animals, the wood-fibre of plants, and others which are given off into the sap or the blood. In short, they are the foundation stones of life, and the physical operations of the highest beings are made up of the combined and harmonized activities of these myriads of minute cells. It would be impossible, unless we should devote a volume to the sub- ject, to do justice to the progress of botany and zoology in the nineteenth century. This progress consists largely in observation and description of a vast multitude of varied forms, with the consequent study of their Classification of affinities, and their classification into family groups, ranging Plants and • from species and varieties to orders and classes, or from minor and local to major and general groups. Both plants and animals have been divided up into a number of great orders, ranging in the former instance from the microscopic bacteria to the great and highly organized exogens, and in the latter from the minute unicellular forms to the mammalia. We have here, aside from the cell-theory, and the great progress in classification, nothing of epoch-making significance to offer, and are obliged to dismiss these subjects with this brief retrospect. There are, however, two fields in which an important accumulation of facts in reference to organic life has been made, those of embryology and palaeontology. The study of the organic cell by the microscope is one of the basic facts of embryology, since living operations take place within this cell. The network of minute fibres, of which it is largely made up, is seen to gather into two star-shaped forms with a connecting spindle Division of the r .-. , ,. . . , , . . . . . , ,, , . Ce) l ot fibres, the division ot which in the centre is followed by the division of the cell into two. This is the primary fact in repro- duction, new cells being thus born. In higher production two cells, arising from opposite sexes, combine, and their growth and division give rise to the organs and tissues of a new living being. It is the development of these organs and tissues that constitutes the science of embryology. The observation, under the microscope, of the stages of this develop- ment, has been of the highest value in the study of animal origin, and has aided greatly in the classification of animals. Many old ideas died out when it was clearly shown that all life begins in a single cell, from which the organs of the new being gradually arise. The most important lesson taught by embryology is that the embryo in its development passes through various stages of its ancestry, resembling now one, now another, of the lower animals, and gains for a brief time organs which some of its ancestors CHARLES P. IR WIN AND DE I ELt 1PMENT ( )/■' S( YEN( ~E 583 possessed permanently. Of these facts the must significant is that the embryo of man develops gill-slits like those which the fish The Sciences of uses in breathing. These are of no use to it and soon disap- the Embryo pear, but their appearance is very strong evidence that the an e OSM fish form lay in the line of man's ancestry, and that man has developed through a long series of the lower animals. In palaeontology, or the study of fossil forms of animals and plant life, we have the embryology of races as contrasted with that of individuals. The study of the multitude of these forms which has been collected within the past century has enabled man to fill many of the gaps which formerly appeared to divide animal forms, and has furnished very strong arguments in favor of the descent of new species from older ones. One of the most striking of these facts is that in relation to the horse, of which a practically complete series of ancestral forms have hem found, leading from a small five-toed animal, far back in geological time, through forms in which the toes decrease in number and the animal increases in size until the large single-toed horse is reached. Two other organic sciences, those of anatomy and physiology, have added enormously to our knowledge of animated nature. Anatomy, which is of high practical importance from its relation to surgery, is a science of ancient origin, many important facts concerning it having been discovered by the physicians of old Greece and Rome. This study continued during later centuries, and by the opening of the nineteenth the gross anatomy of the human frame was fairly well known, and many facts in its finer anatomy had been traced. In later anatomical work the mici has played an active part, ami has yielded numbers of important revelations. What is known as comparative anatomy has formed perhaps the most important field of nineteenth century study in this domain of science. Though this branch of anatomical study is as old as ''^tlly' Aristotle, little was done in it from his time to that of Cuvier, who was the founder of the science of palaeo . and the first to show that the forms and affinities of fossil forms could he deduced from the study of existing animals. If a fossil jaw were found, tor instance, with the teeth of a ruminant, it could be taken for that it came from an animal whose feet had hoofs instead of claws. It is often said that Cuvier could construct an animal from a single bom-, and though this is saying much more than the facts bear out, he did make some marvelous predictions of this kind. A notable triumph of the science of comparative anatomy was the pre- diction made by Cope, Marsh, and Kowajewsky, from tin- fact that specialized 584 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE forms are preceded by others of more generalized structure, that an animal must once have existed with affinities, on the one hand, with hoofed „ , .. animals, and on the other with the carnivores and the lemurs Predictions Concerning This prediction was fulfilled in the discovery of the fossil Fossil An- Phenacodus in the Eocene deposits of the western United States. The study of comparative anatomy, particularly in its application to fossil forms, has aided greatly in the acceptance of the doc- trine of evolution, and has been specially valuable in classification, as show- ing how nearly animals are related to each other. To classify animals and plants, in short, may be simply stated as a method of sorting them over and placing together those which have similar characters, just as in arranging a library we keep together books which relate to similar subjects. We may, for instance, make one general branch of history, a smaller branch of American history, and yet others relating to states, to counties, to cities and towns, and, most special of all, to particular families. The science of physiology differs from that of anatomy in dealing with the functions of life instead of with its forms. The study of these func- tions has g;one on for many centuries, covering- the various p^ 0v ? r .' es in operations of motion, nutrition, respiration, nervous action, growth, and reproduction, with the many minor functions included under these. Though many of the facts of physiology were dis- covered in earlier centuries, the scientists of the nineteenth have been busy in adding to the list, and a number of important discoveries have been made. Prominent among these is that of anaesthesia, the discovery that by the inhalation of certain gases a state of temporary insensibility can be produced, lasting long enough to permit surgical and dental operations to be performed without pain; and that of antiseptical surgery, in which, by the employment of other chemical substances, wounds can be kept free from the action of deleterious substances, and surgical operations be performed without the perils formerly arising from inflammation, — the disease-produc ing germs and poisons being kept out. One of the great gains of the century, says Sir Michael Foster, from whom we have already quoted, is in our insight into nervous phenomena. " We now know that what takes place along a tiny thread we call & nerve fibre differs from that which takes place along its fellow threads; that differing nervous impulses travel along different nerve ,v i",? „ reJ ? s fibres ; and that nervous and psychical events are the outcome of the Brain ' _ r - of the clashing of nervous impulses as they sweep along the closely woven web of living threads, of which the brain is made. We have learned by experiment and observation that the pattern of the web CHARLES />. IRWIN AND DE 1 ELOPMENT < >/■ S( IENCE 585 determines the play of the imp I and we can already explain many of the obscure problems, not only of n disease, but of nervous life, by an analysis, tracking out the devious and linked paths of the nervous threads." This observation links together the sciences of physiology and psycho- logy, the latter the science of mental phenomena, the exact study of which 1 ; ly belongs to the nineteenth century. Broad as this subject is, and much as has been done in it. few facts stand out with sufficient distinctness to call for special mention here. The most famous psychical experirm are those made on the brains of some of the animals below man, and espe- cially on that of the monkey, by which the functions of the several sec; ions of the brain have been to some extent mapped out, the important fact being discovered that each function is confined to a fixed locality in the brain, and with it the accordant fact that certain regions of the brain control the mus- cular movements of certain parts of the body. In consequent a particular affection of the hand, foot, or other region has often been traced to a diseased condition of some known part of the brain, and the trouble has been removed by a surgical operation on that organ. The sciences last named refer specially to man, in whom they have been particularly studied. Other sciences relating to him exclusively are those of ethnology and anthropology, which belong almost solely to the nineteenth century. Ethnology, the study of the races of mankind, has been carefully and widely studied, and though the problems relating to it have not yet been solved, a very fair conception has b lined ol the diversities and relations of mankind. Anthropology, embracing, as it does, archaeology, has been prolific in discoveries. Archaeological research has laid out before us the pathway of man through Man's Past the ages and shown his gradual and steady development, through the successive periods of chipped stone and polished stone imple- ments, of bronze and iron tools and weapons, with his gradual development of potterv. ornament, art, architecture, etc. The most striking and notable fact in anthropological science is the total reversal of our ideas concerning the length of time man has dwelt upon the earth. The old limitation to a few thousand years, everwhere held at the beginning of the century, fails to reach back to a time when, as we now know, man had reached a considerable degree of civilization. Back of that we can trace him by his tools and his bones through a period many times more distant, leading back to the glacial age of geology and possibly to a much more remote era. Instead of man's residence upon the earth being restrict, d to some 6,000 years, it probably reached back not less than 60.000. and possibly to a much earlier period. 5 86 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE Among the minor sciences, there is one that has deserved that name only within the past thirty or forty years, the science of medicine. Formerly it was an art only, and by no means a satisfactory one. Nothing was known of the cause of the most virulent and destructive diseases — the infectuous Development of fevers, the plague, cholera, etc. And the treatment of these, the Science and in fact of nearly all diseases, was wholly empirical, of Medicine depending solely upon experiment, not at all upon scientific principles. Experience showed that certain drugs and chemical compounds produced certain effects upon the system, and upon this physicians depended, with no conception of the cause of diseases and little knowl- edge of the physiological action of medicines. This state of affairs was materially changed during the final third of the nineteenth century, as the result of an extensive series of observations, set in train in great part by Louis Pasteur, Professor of chemistry at the Sorbonne in Paris, who was in large measure the originator of the germ theory of disease. The discovery that the fermentation which produces alcohol is due to a microscopic organism, the yeast-plant, gave Pasteur the clue, and he soon was able to prove that other fermentations, — the lactic, acetic, and butyric, — are also due to the action of living forms. It had further been found that the putrefaction of animal substance Pasteur and His wag causec } j n t h e same wav anc { j t has since been abundantly Discoveries ' ' demonstrated that if these minute organisms can be kept out of animal and vegetable substances these may be preserved indefinitely. This fact has given rise to one of the most important industries of the century, the keeping of fruits, meats, etc., by the process of air-tight canning. Pasteur next extended his observations to the silkworm, which was subject to an epidemic disease that had almost ruined the silk industry in France. Others before him had discovered what were supposed to be disease germs in the blood of these worms. He proved positively that these bacteria, as they are called, are the cause of the disease, and that infection could be prevented by proper precautions. From the insect Pasteur proceeded to the higher animals, and investigated the cause of splenic fever, a dangerous epidemic among farm cattle. This he also proved to be caused by a minute form of life, and that fowl cholera is due to still another form of micro-organism. At a later date he studied hydro- phobia, which he traced to a similar cause, and for the cure of which he established the Pasteur Institute in 1886. This was not the whole of Pasteur's work. He discovered not only the cause of these diseases, but a system of vaccination by which they could CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE 5.S7 >e cured or prevented. By ''cultivating" the bacterid in various ways, he ;ucceeded in decreasing their dangerous properties, so that they would give he disease in a mild form, — acting in the same way as vaccination docs in he case of small-pox, by enabling the animals to resist virulent attacks of he disease. Pasteur's work was performed largely on the lower animals. Others lave devoted themselves to the infectuous diseases which attack the human rame, and with remarkable success. Robert Koch, a German physician, ipplied himself to the study of cholera, which lie proved in Koch and :883 to be due to a germ named by him, from its shape, the the Comma :omma bacillus. He discovered about the same time the B^ 1 "" 5 )acterial organism which causes the fatal disease of tuberculosis, or con- iumption. Other investigators have traced typhoid and yellow fevers, liphtheria, and some other infectuous diseases to similar causes, and the ■tudy of diseases of this character has at last gained the status of a science. Methods of cure are also becoming scientific. These minute onjfan- sms, once introduced within the body, tend to increase in number at an imazing rate, feeding on the blood and tissues, and giving off substances :alled toxines which in some cases are of highly poisonous character. To >vercome their effect inoculation of anti-toxines is practiced. These are 'ielded by the same bacteria as produce the toxines, and inoculation with hem enables the system to resist the action of the toxin poisons. We must dismiss this broad subject with this brief consideration, saying urther that it is still largely in the stage of experiment, and that many of ts theories must be left to the twentieth century for proof. Its study, lowever, has been of inestimable value in another direction, that of antiseptic ureery, a mode of treatment of surgical wounds introduced ';•• t i 1 ■ 1 1 1 11 11 Antiseptic Sur. >y Sir Joseph Lister, and now used by all surgeons with the gery nost beneficial effects. It being recognized that inflamma- Lon and putrefactive action in wounded tissues are due to the action of lisease germs introduced by the air or by the hands and instruments of the operators, the greatest care is now taken, by the use of chemical substances atal to those germs, to prevent their entrance. As a result many diseases mce common in hospitals — pyaemia, septicaemia, gangrene and erysipelas — Save almost disappea ver and the formation of pus are prevented, and lealing is rapid and continuous, while surgeons now daringly and succ< ully undertake operations in the most secret recesses of the body, which ormerly would have led to certain death. A secondary result of the germ theory of disease is the great adva n hygiene which, formerly almost non-existent, has now reached the status 588 CHARLES DARWIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF SCIENCE of a science. It is still against these perilous germs that continuous battl is kept up, absolute cleanliness being the ultimatum at whicl The Science of , . . . ,->, . , , , i Hygiene physicians aim. Disease germs lurk everywhere, and cai only be combatted by incessant care. The bacteria of choler and typhoid fever, for example, are known to be conveyed in water, and th former epidemics of these diseases were in great measure due to the fre use of polluted water for drinking. Their ravages have been larger arrested by boiling, filtering or otherwise purifying drinking water, whil the free use of carbolic acid and other antiseptics in hospitals has put a; end to the reign of infection which once made those places hives of disease We may fitly conclude this chapter with reference to a subject severs times referred to in its pages, and which is looked upon as the greates scientific theory of the century, that of evolution. The belief that ne: species of animals and plants arise through development from older ones i not of recent origin, but is at least as old as Aristotle. It was taught b Harvey, Erasmus Darwin, Gcethe, and others in the eighteenth centurj but the first attempt to develop a general theory of organic evolution wa made by Lamarck, in the early part of the succeeding century. Lamarck' view, however, that the variations in animals are the result of efforts o: their part to gain certain results, — the neck of the giraffe, for instance growing longer through its attempt to browse on leaves just out of reach,— did not gain acceptance, and it was not until after the middle of the centur that a more satisfactory theory was presented. The theory of evolution, as now understood, was arrived at simulta Darwin and neously by Alfred Russell Wallace and Charles Darwin, i Natural Se- being fully worked out by the latter in his " Origin of Specie lotion by Means of Natural Selection," published in 1859. Th] theory — that the changes in animals are due to the struggle for existenci amone vast multitudes, and the survival of those whose natural variation in form give them an advantage over their fellows in the battle of life — i: now accepted by the great body of scientists, while the general idea of evolu tion has been extended to cover all changes in the universe, inorganic a: well as organic. This extension has been the work of Herbert Spencer anc many other scientific and philosophical writers, and no domain of nature i: now left outside of the range of evolutionary forces. The argument whicl makes man himself a result of evolution, and not a product of special creation was the final one presented by Darwin, and has given point to a multitudf of observations in the science of anthropology made since his day. >OETS CHAPTER XL. Literature and Art in the Nineteenth Century. ""'OR a^es the world has swarmed with writers. Almost since man first began to think he has been actively engaged in literary labor; longi indeed, before he had learned the: art of writing, and when the work his mind could be preserved only in his memory and that of his fellows. nd the progress of man down the ages is starred with names that gleam :e suns in the firmament of thought, those of such great magicians of the tellect as Homer, Virgil, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, and a >st besides. In this field of human effort, therefore, the The Literary neteenth century has nothing peculiar to show. Its finest Giants of For- aors are surpassed by those of others who lived centuries or mer imes es ago. Here, almost alone in the circle of human lebors, the century ; deal with stands on the level of many of its predecessors and below at of others. Its single claim to distinction is an extraordinary activity literary production, and especially in the field of noyelistic fiction, which may in great measure claim as its own. The novel befo nineteenth ntury was a crude pioneer; within the century it has grown into a product the most advanced culture. What has been said about literature may be repeated about art. lat, too, seemingly reached its culmination in the past, and the artists of ■day can merely seek to emulate, they cannot hope to surpass, those of rmer centuries. Sculpture, for instance, reached its highest . - . . ~ , . . , The Standing ige of perfection in Greece, and painting in mediaeval of the line .irope ; and strive as our artists may, they seem incapable Arts in the Past am" ' Present producing works of superior beauty and charm to those of e long ago. The architecture of to-day is largely a rescript that of the past, the original ideas are few, nobler and more beautiful nceptions are wanting. Of the remaining hnc. arts, music and poetry — we may class the latter in this category — the work of former centuries re- iins unsurpassed, ami the best that can be done with the nineteenth century thors and artists is to mention their works and speak of their styles : it is possible to place them on a pedestal overlooking that of their predecessors 59i 593 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Yet while what has been said is true as a whole, the literature of at least one country is almost wholly a product of the nineteenth century. This is the United States, which had writers, but little which fairly deserves the name of literature, prior to 1800. Aside from the famous papers of the Federalist, the work of the great statesmen of the Constitutional Convention, the writings of one or two authors of the Revolutionary period, E ^ y Amencan and some of those of Benjamin Franklin, this country possessed hardly any literature, truly so-called, before the days of Wash- ington Irving, whose polished "Sketch Book" essays, popular histories oi Columbus and Mahomet, and humorous " History of New York," first taught the English critics that Americans could write as well as fight and work, and that a new world of thought was likely to arise beyond the waters. Irving was not alone. Contemporary with him were a number of graceful poets, chiei among them being William Cullen Bryant, whose " Thanatopsis," still an American classic, is perhaps unequalled in depth of reflection and grandeui of thought by the work of any other author of nineteen years of age. Bryant, however, did not rise above this early effort, but rather declined, and he has been far surpassed in poetic fervor and richness of diction and conception by a number of his successors, notably Whittier, Longfellow and Lowell, men worthy to occupy a place beside the famous English poets ol the century. Of these, Longfellow has gained the widest reputation, not, however, through force of superior genius, but from the sweetness, grace and ease of his diction and the popular character of his themes The Poets of the anc j h an cUina-, which have fitted his verse to touch the heart of United States ? ' - the people in all lands. Lowell was not only a poet of rare depth of thought, but stands as the first of American satirists, his " Biglow Papers" being among the keenest and most humorous works of satire of the century, while they rank with the most purely national of American works. Of other American poets, of whom many of fine powers might be named, we shall mention only Edgar Allan Poe, the most original in style and musical in tone of all our writers of verse ; the witty and genial Oliver Wendell Holmes ; and Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose verse, while lacking polish and smoothness, is rich in poetic thought. It was rather in his philosophy than in his poetry that the rich imagination and fine powers of reflection of Emerson made themselves manifest, and his essays stand prominent among the finest thought products of the century. They are expressed in telling apothems, of which many are little poems in themselves, while his works are instinct with the finest spirit of altruism and optimism, taking the most hopeful and cheerful views of the future of man and his institutions. LITERATURE AND ART IN Till-: NINETEENTH ( RY 593 Among popular American novelists James Fenimore Cooper stands as e pioneer, his tales of ocean and Indian life, while of no superior merit as ;erature, holding a wide audience by their spirit of adventure and carc- 1 elaboration. Most original of our writers is Nathaniel Hawthorne, e "Scarlet Letter," "Marble Faun," and other novels stand in a field of ieir own among the productions of the century, and take rank with the b " European productions. For the sensational and lurid tale Poe stands first, id his genius in this direction still brings him readers, despite the impossible cidents of many of his plots. < >f other novelists we may ime Harriet Beecher Stowe, with her famous "Uncle 1 tun's A ™ encan .Novelists abin ;" Howells, our leading naturalistic novelist ; Edward iverett Hale, made famous by his "Man Without a Country;" Edward in, with the flavor of frontier life in his " Hoosier Schoolmaster." ,ew Wallace, who touched a deep vein of popular approval in his " Ben lur ;" Henry James, too scholarly perhaps to be highly popular, but of the nest literary skill ; Helen Hunt Jackson, whose " Ramona" depicts in thrill- lg idealism the wrongs of the Indians; and — but we must stop here, for as e approach the present day novelists of merit so throng the field of view lat we cannot venture even to name them. Not the least notable field of American literature lies in the domain of istory, in which the authors of our country hold their own with the best of lose abroad. Irving's graceful, though not critical, works of Historians of istory we have mentioned. Greatest in this field stands the United lancroft, whose history of our country is a classic of world- stat es r ide fame. Close beside him may be placed Prescott, with his glowing ictures of Spanish and Spanish-American life ; Motley, the skilled and opular historian of the Netherlands ; Parkman, who brilliantly pictures for sthe romance of French enterprise in America; McMaster, who ma}- fairly ose as the historian of the American people ; and Parton, whose historical iographies are among the most readable of American books of this haracter. Our greatest orators, men whose speeches have become literature, hold place in the history of our country. The famous Webster and Clay and 'alhoun we have already described. Close after those come Sumner, ieward and others who stood high in the stirring period of the savil War and of reconstruction. Aside from public speakers tors evoted to statesmanship are many others of fame, including he eloquent Edward Everett ; the daring anti-slavery orator, Wendell 'hillips ; the earnest platform apostle of temperance, John If Cough; the reatest of our pulpit orators, Henry Ward Beecher; the advocate of the 594 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY '■ New South, Henry W. Grady ; the most amusing of our recent orators, Chauncey M. Depew, and others of fine powers whom the need of brevity forbids our naming. The mention of Depew's vein of humor calls to mind this domain of literature, of which our country has had many popular repre- sentatives, chief among whom stands the rollicking- and favorite Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain). It has not been proposed here to present more than a passing review of the authors of the United States, or to attempt to name all those of leading merit. We might have named in political economy Henry C.Carey ; in American history, John Fiske ; in European church history, Henry C. Lea ; and, in addition, eminent authors in legal lore, in science, in philos- ophy, in theology, and in other fields, all aiding to show the vast advance our people have made in this important direction since their feeble begin- nings in the early days of the century. Unlike the United States, Great Britain came to the nineteenth century with a great galaxy of famous writers, leading back through many centuries. The eighteenth century is rich in great names, including The Poets of ° r , i. ,, & „ , _, & Great Britain among its poets rope, Burns, Cowper, Oray and 1 nompson ; among its essayists, Addison, Swift and Johnson ; among its novelists, Richardson, Fielding, Smollet, Sterne, and Goldsmith ; among its historians Gibbon, Hume and Robertson. It crossed the portals of the nineteenth century with a galaxy of poets more brilliant than has appeared in any equal period of English literature, including the world-famous Byron, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, Moore, Keats, Scott and Campbell, a group of writers which, taken as a whole, it would be difficult to match in any age. These sweet singers have been followed by others who have kept up the standard of British poetry, including Tennyson, one of the rarest of artists in words, the two Brownings, Matthew and Edwin Arnold, William Morris, Swinburne, the Rossettis, and various others of lesser note, among whom we must include Alfred Austin, the latest though not the most admired poet-laureate. These are but the elder flight of singing birds of the century, many younger ones being on the wing, among whom at present Rudyard Kipling leads the way. In the second field of imaginative literature, that of the novel, the British isles are abundantly represented, and by some of the most famous British NoveU names anywhere existing in this domain of intellectual activity. ists and The names alone of these writers form a catalogue rarely Historians equalled in the world's literature. It will suffice to name Scott, Thackeray, Dickens, Bulwer, Charlotte Bronte and Marion Evans as the most prominent among a multitude of able writers, containing many names LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH t ENTURY 595 high in merit and rich in variety of style At the end of the century the field was crowded with writers of conspic ill. History has reached a high level in the hands of some of the ablest writers in this field known in any age, including Macaulay, Freeman, Froude, Grote, Thirwall, Hallam, Merivale, Buckle, Leckey, Carlyle and Green. Two of these, Carlyle and Macaulay, have won as high a place in the field of criticism and biography as in that of history. In art criticism Ruskin occupies a unique position, while theological subjects and religious thought are represented by such able exponents as Cardinal Newman, Dean Stanley, Canon Liddon, Dean Farrar, Martineau, Whately, Drummond, Spurgeon and many others. The great reviewers include Jef- frey, Sydney, Smith, Hazlitt, De Ouincey, Foster; the wits ot ^ r British Sheridan, Hook, Jerrold, Smith and Hood ; the philosophers Stewart, Bentham, Brown, Hamilton, Spencer and Stuart Mill ; and the scien- tists Owen, Faraday, Murchison, Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall and various others. The above named are merely some of the best known English writers of the century. If it were attempted to name all those of merit the list would be wearisomely long. The same may be said of the literary men of France, of whom many of world-wide fame flourished during the nineteenth century. At the beginning of the new age appeared the versatile Madame de Stael, and Chateaubriand with his famous " Genius of Christianity.'" These ushered in a host of able writers, of whom the leading lyric poets were Victor Hugo, Beranger, Lamartine and Alfred de Musset, and the most prom- inent novelists Hugo, Dumas, Sue, Balzac, Dudevant (George French Novel- Sand), succeeded in later years by the younger Dumas, istsand Feuillet, Murger, Zola, About and a host besides. Dra- Hist ° ri a n * matic writers have been little less numerous, and essayists and literary critics of merit might be named by the dozen, among them the well-known names of Renan, St. Beuve, Gautier, Taine, Girardin and Remusat. Perhaps the most successful branch of recent French literature is his- tory, around which a brilliant galaxy of great names has gathered. Prom- inent among these are Guizot, Thierry and Thiers, to whom may be added, as able writers of the history of their country, Sismondi, Michelet, Martin, Barante and Mignet. Other workers in this field are Lamartine and Ville- main, while in philosophy, sociology and the various branches of science the writers have been numerous, and many of them of high ability. The writers of Germany have been as prolific as those of England and France, though the greatest names of that country, such giants of thought as Gcethe, Schiller, and Kant, belong to the closing period of the eighteenth century, and have found no equals in the nineteenth. Kant was succeeded 33 596 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by three other great metaphysical philosophers, Fichte, Schelling, ami Hegel, the four forming a group nowhere matched for depth of thought in any similar period of time. In poetry, Gcethe and Schiller German Poets were succeeded by the songr writers Korner, Arndt, Ruckert, and Novelists J ° . . and Uhland, while of the poets of later date Heine undoubtedly ranks first. Fiction was enormously developed during the century, Gustav Freytag being one of the most eminent novelists, while others of note were Hacklancler, Spielhagen, Heyse, Ebers, Auerbach, and of women writers Ida von Hahn-Hahn, Fanny Lewald, Schopenhauer, and Marlitt. Famous authors who have dealt with the mysterious agencies of nature are De la Motte Fouque, the author of the charming " Undine," Chamisso, with his fantastic " Peter Schlemihl," and Hoffmann, whose tales of wonder and fantasy are of the first merit. Best known among fantastic and imaginative writers is Jean Paul Richter, whose satirical and humorous novels had a striking effect upon German thought at the beginning of the century. Of German humorists, Fritz Reuter occupies perhaps the highest rank. In the field of science and exploration the literature of Germany is rich. German Scien- Scientific travel was given a great impetus by the famous tistsand works of Alexander von Humboldt, — "Cosmos," " Views of Historians Nature," etc.,— and his example has been abundantly followed. Among his more famous successors are Martins, the learned traveler in Brazil ; Tschudi, in Peru ; Lepsius and Brugsch, in Egypt ; Gutzlaff, in China; Barth, Vogel, and Schweinfurth, in Africa; and Leichhardt, in Australia. In scientific literature of high value Germany is strong, its writers including Bessel, Encke, Madler, and Struve, in astronomy ; Midler, Ehren- berg, Liebig, Virchow, Vogel, Helmholtz, Haeckel, Kirchhoff, von Baer, and many others in natural science. The historians are of unsurpassed critical excellence, and embrace Von Ranke, Curtius, Mommsen, von Muller, Heeren, Niebuhr, Neander, Menzel, and many more. In philology and critical study may be named Wolf, Hermann, the brothers Grimm, Bopp, Benecke, and Haupt. Critical essayists include the two Schlegels, von Hardenberg (Novalis), Tieck, Schelling, and Wilhelm von Humboldt. This is by no means an exhaustive list of the prominent German authors of the nineteenth century, and we must deal still more briefly with the other nations of Europe. Russia may fairly be ranked with the United States, as being, in a literary sense, largely confined to the he Literatu nineteenth century. It had some writers of merit of earlier of Russia J date, largely poets and fabulists, but the first prose writer of excellence of style was Nicholas Karamzin, whose famous " History of the LITERATURE AND AR'l IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Russian Empire " began to in 1815. Poetry also became more merit- orious in this period, Alexander Pushkin, the greatest of Russian poets, giv- ing to the world sonic charming narratives in verse, [van Kriloff won fame as a writer of fables, while other poets of merit appeared, among them Koltsov, the writer of Russian national songs. In the field of fiction the first of special merit was Nicholai Gogol, one of the most powerful of Russian novelists ; but the first to gain a European fame was Ivan Turgeneff. Greatest among hi rs is Count Leo Tolstoi, who entered this field with "War and Peace," the record of his experience in the Crimean war. His radical studies oi the problems of social life have since led to a number of works of striking character, which have won him a world-wide fame. In romantic fiction Russian writers have gained much celebrity, and they include able authors in history, science: ar I other fields. The three Scandinavian nations, Denmark, Sweden and Norway, have been active in literary production, and p many authors oi national fame, and several who are read and admired throughout the world. Of high standing among the poets of Sweden is the popular poet Runeberg, born in Finland in 1804, who possessed a poetic genius of the highest quality. Rut the most celebrated poet of Sweden is Esaias Tegner, whose "Frithiof's Saga" has won him a world-widi 1 having been translated in- to the principal modern languages, though with great loss of the beauty of the original. Almquist, a man of line genius and ^Sweden wide knowledge, was a poet and novelist of the romantic school, his novels including "Hook of the Rose," "The Palace," etc. Stagnelius, another poet of eminence, obtained fame by his epic of "Wladimir the Great." The novelists include several well-known women writers, the productions of Fredrika Bremer and Emilie Carlen having gained popularity in English translations. Fredrika Runeberg, wii the poet, was also a popular novelist, while favorite male writers of histori- cal novels include Mellin, Sparre, Topelius, and Rydberg, the last also a popular poet. Wetterbergh (Uncle Adam) gained reputation by his humorous tales of Swedish home lite. Most famous of the poets of Norway is Wergeland, the Schiller of his country, his works including tragedies, poems and satires. Various later writers followed in his line, including Moe, Jensen, Kjerulf and Thomsen. Chief among Norwegian novelists is Bjornson, the author of a series of charming studies of the peasant life of his country, all which pular in English speaking countries. Others who have wrought in the same are Thoresen and Lie. But most famous of the recent writers of Norway 593 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Is the dramatist Ibsen, a thorough playwright on historical and romantic Literarure of themes, and on social problems. It is the striking and radical Sweden and character of his productions in the last named field, including " A Doll's House" and various others, to which he owes his widespread fame, and the severe criticism with which his works have been assailed. The Danish literature of the nineteenth century opened with Jens Baggesen, whose lyrics, mock-heroic poems, and " Comic Tales " are much admired. The great poet of Denmark, however, is Oehlenschlager, who produced tragedies of the highest merit, while his splendid epic poem, "The Gods of the North," is one of the noblest modern works of this character. Of the many other Danish writers of the century we shall name only the famous Hans Christian Andersen, whose folk-tales are household words throughout the world. The literary fame of Spain rests with its authors of the past, there being few of notable merit of recent date. Much the same must be said in regard to Italy, the latest of its great poets and dramatists, Alfieri, dying in 1803. One of its most famous nineteenth century writers was Ugo Foscolo, whose political romance, " Letters of Jacopo Ortis," published about 1800, became immensely popular. His finest work is considered to be " The Monuments," an admirable lyric poem. Count Leopardi also attained to high eminence as a poet, and Manzoni as a novelist and Writers of Italy , ■ i ■ t r, 1 1 t >> /,, t t-, • r> ■ >>\ dramatist, his Betrothed Lovers ( 1 Promessi bposi ), having a wide reputation as a vivid picture of Italian society of the seven- teenth century. We shall speak of only one other, Silvio Pellico, whose work, " My Prisons," descriptive of his own sufferings in Austrian prisons, is a classic of its kind and has been widely translated. This rapid review by no means exhausts the meritorious ninetenth century authors of Europe, whose smaller countries possess their writers of fame. Hungary, for instance, presents to us the prolific novelist Jokai, whose works are read in all civilized lands. Poland, no longer a country, merely a people, has its famous novelists, chief among them being H. Sienkiewiez, author of the popular " Quo Vadis." The same may be said of the Nether- lands and of Switzerland, to the latter of which the United States was Other Cele- indebted for one of its most eloquent scientific writers, the brated celebrated Louis Agassiz. Of course, the literature of merit in the nineteenth century has not been confined to Europe and the United States. Canada, for instance, has produced able writers, and the same may be said of the British colonies of Australia and South Africa, while the nations of Spanish-America have also produced noted authors. LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 599 VVe have said in the beginning of this chapter that literature has made no recent advance, writers of conspicuous merit reaching far back into the past. The " Iliad" of Homer, fur example, back some three thousand years, and Dante belongs to an early era of mediaeval Europe, neritof the Yet this assertion is I rue only in a general sense, that of the Literature of comparative merit of authors in style and depth of thought, * e as without regard to the character of their works. In a more! special sense, that of the distinctive varieties of literature, we may credit the nineteenth century with several marked steps of progress. The most meritorious works of tlie past ages wen- in the fields of poetry, drama, philosophy, oratory, and other branches of imaginative and metaphysical thought. The practice of accurate observation ami the literature arising from it are very largely of nineteenth century development. The literature oi travel, for instance, is confined in great measure to the past century, and the same may be said of that of science, the comparatively few scientific treatises of the past having been replaced byavast multitude of scientific works, rhesi in great measure confined to records of scientific observation and discover)-. Theoretical science, while very active in the past century, has scientific and yielded no works of higher merit than those of such older Historical writers as Aristotle, Copernicus. Kepler, Galileo, Newton and others of the older worthies. But the gathering of facts has been enor- mous, and great libraries of works of science to-day replace the scanty volumes of a century ago. A second field of nineteenth century advance is in the domain of his- tory. Idle history of the past is largely the annals of kings and the story of wars. Thucydides, the philosophical historian of Greece, had few suc- cessors before the century in question, within which written history has greatly broadened its scope, reaching to heights and to depths unattempted before. Histories of the people have for the first time 1 written, and the outreach of historical research has been made to cover institutions, manners and customs, morals and superstitions, and a thorn things neglected by older authors. History, in short, has at once become philosophical and scientific, efforts being made in th . latter direction to sweep into its net everything relating to man, and in the former to disci the forces underlying the downward flow through time of the human race, ami to trace the influences which have given rise to the political, social and other institutions of mankind. A still more special field of nineteenth century literary development is that of the novel. Imaginative thought has existed for Ion.., and fictitious tales are as old as civilization, but in the ancient world these were 600 LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY couched in the form of poetic and dramatic literature, of fable, fairy tale, and the like. The first steps of approach towards the modern novel began in late Greek times, and the development of the tale continued through the The Novel and Middle Ages, though it failed to reach the level of what may its Develop- be distinctive 1 )- called the novel until the middle of the eight- ment eenth century. The novel, specially so called, is the character tale, the development of human personality under the guise of fiction. This was scarcely attempted in the prose works of the past, character draw- ing being then confined to the drama. Abundant works of romance and adventure were written, but it was left to Richardson, Fielding, and the contemporary French authors to produce character novels, works of fiction peopled by individual men and women, instead of by speaking puppets, shows of man in the abstract, as in earlier years. The novel attained some promising development in the latter part of the eighteenth century, but was still in a crude state at the opening of the nineteenth, when it was taken up by the powerful hand of Scott, whose remarkable works first fairly opened this new domain of intellectual enjoy- ment to mankind. Since his time the literature of the novel has grown stupen- dous in quantity and remarkable in quality, reaching from the most worthless and degraded forms of literary production to the highest regions of human thought. The novel, as now developed, covers almost the entire domain of intellectual production, embracing works of adventure, romance, literal and ideal pictures of life, humor, philosophy, religion, science, — forming indeed a great drag-net that sweeps up everything that comes in its way. There is another field of literary production, more humble but not less useful than those named, which has had an immense development in the past century, that of the school text-book. The text-books of earlier periods The Text-Book were of the crudest and most imperfect character as compared and Progress with the multitude of works, admirably designed to smooth the pathway to knowledge, which now crowd our schools. In connection with these may be named the great development in methods of education, and the spread of educational facilities, whose effect has been such that, whereas a century ago education was confined to the few, it now belongs to the many, and ignorance is being almost driven beyond the borders of civilized nations. These who cannot read and write are becom- ing a degraded minority, while a multitude of colleges and universities are yielding the advantages of the higher education to a constantly increasing multitude. By no means the least among the triumphs of the nineteenth century has been the enormous development of book-making. The wide-spread LITERATURE AND ART IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 601 education of the people in recent times has created an extraordinary mand for books, there bein^r a thousand readers now to the one of a century or two ago. This demand has given rise to as extraordinary a supply, which is not offered in books alone, but in periodicals of the most varied character and scope, including a multitude of newspapers almost beyond vast Increase in comprehension. The United States alone, in addition to its Hooks and numerous magazines, issues more than twenty thousand dif- ewspapers ferent newspapers, of which the aggregate circulation reaches daily far up into the millions. The demand for reading matter could not have been a tenth part supplied with the facilities of a century ago, but mans powers in this direction have steadily increased. From the intellectual side, the advance in education has provided a great number of men competent to cater to the multitude of readers, as authors in various fields, editors, reporter in army of able men and women being enlisted in this work. From the mechanical side, invention has served a similar purpose ; the paper-making machinery, with the use of wood as raw material, the mechanical type-setters, the rapid print- ing-presses, and other inventions having not only enormously increased the ability to produce books and newspapers, but cheapened them to such an extent that they are now within the reach of the poorest. A century ago such a thing as an one-cent new -piper was not known. Now a daily that sells for more than a cent is growing rare. A century ago only a few dic- tionaries, encyclopedias, and other works of reference were in existence, and those were within the reach only of the well- useof'Books to-do. Now works of this kind are very numerous, and they are being sold so cheaply and on such easy terms of payment, that they are widely spread through the families of artisans and fanners. In truth, the number of books pi i by wage-earners and agricul- turists to-day is very much -renter than those classes could possess a century ago, and the character of these works has improved so greatly that they serve a highly useful purpose in the advancement of popular education. In addition to the actual ownership of books, there has been so great an increase in libraries, and such an improvement in methods ,,f distribution, that books of all kinds are within the reach of the poorest of city people, and measures are being taken to place them at the disposal of country people as well. At the opening of the century tin; free library was almost unknown. At its close there was not a large city in the United States without its free library, and many small ones were similarly provided. In truth, the great librar) development in this country has been within the latter half of the 6o2 LITERATURE AND ART IN NINETEENTH CENTURY century. In 1850 there were only eighty-one libraries in the United States that contained over 5,000 volumes, and the total number of books in them was less than a million, a much smaller number than could be found The Develop- ' n tne libraries of Paris alone. No single American library merit of at that date contained over 75,000 volumes. In 1900 there were more than a dozen with over 100,000 volumes each, some of these possessing considerably over half a million books. Thus the Boston Public Library contained over 600,000 volumes, while a still larger number was housed within the Congressional Library at Washington, in what is the finest and most magnificently decorated library building in the world, with room to accommodate as many as 4,000,000 volumes. The great libraries of the United States are far surpassed in number of books by those of the leading capitals of Europe, and particularly by that of Paris, which con- tains the enormous number of more than 2,500,000 volumes. What has been said about literature can scarcely be repeated about art. The nineteenth century has developed no new species of fine art, and in its productions in sculpture, painting, architecture and music has Art in Past . , r , ,. Centuries given us no works superior to those 01 the earlier centuries. Many names of artists of genius in this century could be given, if necessary, but as these names indicate nothing original in style or superior in merit there is no call to present them. The advance of the nineteenth century has been rather in the cheap production and wide dis- semination of works of art than in any originality of conception. In this direction the greatest advance has been made in pictorial art. Methods of engraving have been very greatly cheapened, and the photograph has supplied the world with an enormous multitude of faithful counterparts of nature. Among the many ways in which this form of art has been applied, one of the most useful is that of book illustration. The ordinary "picture-book" of the beginning of the century was an eye-sore of frightful Great Progress character, its only alleviation being that the cost of illustra- ln Pictorial tions prevented many of them being given. The " half-tone" method of reproduction of photographs has made a wonder- ful development in this direction, pictures that faithfully reproduce in black and white scenes of nature or works of art being now made with such cheapness that book illustrations of superior character have grown very abundant, and it has become possible to illustrate effectively the daily news- paper, laying before us in pictorial form the scenes of events that hap- pened only a few hours before. CHAPTER XLI. The American Church and the Spirit of Human Brotherhood. AS the century draws toward its end, and men make careful survey of the work it has wrought in the many and varied fields of human activity, it is natural that each observer should take a special interest n the department which constitutes his specialty. The statesman studies :he social and political phenomena and forces of the age. The scientist, :he educator, the manufacturer, the financier, the merchant, find in their respective spheres problems to be taken in hand and carefully investigated, :hat the experience of the past may become wisdom for the future. While this division of labor may tend to develop one-sidedness in the individual, it provides ample material for the true student of history, who, by collecting :he data furnished by these various investigators, may make wide and wise generalizations, and thus contribute to a more '^jjor ° :omplete study of human nature and human history. The increase of general interest among special observers and students will ensure in due time co-op-ration, increased intelligence, and enthusiasm in the promotion of the highest civilization. As the* procession of the years which form the most wonderful century af human history closes its solemn march, those; who look on time as deriving its chief worth from its relations to eternity, and who estimate civilization as it bears upon the immortal character of man, will of necessity judge a century by its religious quality ami results, asking : What place has religion held, what work has it wrought, what errors have weakened it, what are the tendencies which now dominate it, what are the opportunities which open before it ? The American type of Christianity is in advance of all other Christian types, since it grows among and permeates political and Amer ican social ideas and institutions which give it larger and fuller oppor- Type of tunities than it has ever before known, opportunities to develop humanity (u-\ all sides and in all relations. The American Church is made up of all individuals, classes, societies, and agencies which bear the Christian name or hold the Christian thought. It is not a "State Church." 605 6o 5 THE AMERICAN CHURCH It is not a " union Church" — constituted by the formal unification of diverse sects or denominations. It embraces all believers (and in a sense all citizens) without visible consolidation ; it favors all without legislative interference ; it gives freedom to all without partiality or discrimination. The distinguishing feature of American life — which makes what we call " freedom " mean more and promise more than does the civil, political and religious freedom of any other land, and which therefore gives a dis- tinctive character to the American Church — is that the liberty of the individual has large and unhampered opportunity for growth and action. Individual liberty here is actual liberty; unhindered by governmental pro- visions for privileged classes, who, by the accident of birth, leap into place and prerogative without merit of their own, and whose unearned advantage is detrimental to the well-being of the multitude. It is liberty which carries with it opportunity, — the liberty of the lowest in the nation to reach the rank of the highest ; of the poorest to become the richest ; of the most ignorant to become the most learned ; of the most despised to become the Distinguishing most honored ; the liberty of every man to know all that he Feature of can know, to be all that he can be, and do all that he pleases 1 ' e to do, so long as he does not interfere with the right of any other man to know all that he can know, to be all that he can be, and to do all that he pleases to do. It is the liberty among brothers, who, with all the prerogatives of individuality, need not forget the brotherhood of man, and who have every inducement not merely to guarantee to each other this regal right of full personal development, but who easily learn how to render mutual aid — every man helping every other man to know all that he can know, be all that he can be, and to do all that he pleases to do. This, then, is the ideal of American civilization : A nation of equals, who are brothers. This is the doctrine of the closing American century; the root of the goodly tree that covers such ample area with its fruitful and bending branches ; the vine which the right hand of the Lord our God hath planted ; this the lesson running along the bars and shining out of the stars of our national flag. It is necessary that the race experiment with this great idea of freedom and fraternity. It is an idea that sounds well in rhyme and song, but it must stand the test of practice as well ; and is it capable of this? May this large Gospel of the Christ be realized by a nation, and this nation become in spirit and fact a church ? This is the olorious thought runninLr through the civilization of our century, and this we believe to be the pur- pose of the God of nations. The distinctive feature of the nineteenth century in America is the struggle for the recognition of these two noble ideas : The freedom of the THE AMERICAN CHURCH bdividual and the brotherhood of the race. And this thought is thoroughly religious. It is pre-eminently Christian. It was taught, enforced, and illus- trated by the Nazarene. It is asserting itself in our civilization. The work s now going on. It has not gone far, but it is hound to go on to the blessed |nd. The leaven is working every day. We are in the midst of the gn ixperiment. The American Church is not a State Church. It is supported not by aw, but by love. No large subsidies corrupt it. No political complications weaken it. Church and State serve each other host when the only bond rween them is one of individual conviction and mutual confi- Development lence. The beginni the Republic were made by religi- oftheAmeri. mis nun, who organized rel communities. They sought )tir shores to ecure religii us liberty. Some of them may have been nar- ■ow, but they were true and brave. Some of the fetters that bound thorn lad been severed, but some still remained. They had not ed the dea of an emancipated and responsible individuality. Protestants fled from he i verities of Roman rule, and Romans from the oppressions of I'roi mts. And it look a long time for Protestants to become \xw. But the bunders and fathers of the Republic were religious and God-fearing men bin v were simply pupils ("primary pupils" at that") in the school of human jigfhts and human brotherhood. The lessons were lone and hard. It has :aken more than a century to get half through the "first reader," and there s ample work for the century ahead, hut as a people wo are coming to ;he life of the Church in the aims and order of the State, and to learn that God is in all history, that His claims upon men extend to all social relations, sanctifying all secular and political life, and embracing charity, sympathy, Lnd justice in the minutesl details of life, as well as awe, reverence and worship. Simultam ously with the rise of the Republic began the great Sunday- School system, which went everywhere with the open Bible and the living teacher, with inspiring Christian son-s, attractive hooks lor v 5 , -ii The Sunday- week-day reading, juvenile pictorial papers, social gatherings, SC hool System and the stimulating power of friendly fellowship in religious life. It brought the people together, old and young, learned and unlearned, rich and poor. It did more to " level up" society than any other agency in the Republic. It made the adult who taughl susceptible and affection childhood a hotter citizen. It prepared the children to be wiser, more con- scientious, and more loyal citizens in the next generation. In the widely ex- tended Methodist revival, and in the all-embracing Sunday-school movement, we =see the hand of Cod fashioning the Nation and the Church, that they / 60S THE AMERICAN CHURCH might be one in aim and spirit, and that through them might be promoted liberty, equality, and fraternity. The various branches or denominations of the American Church are influenced by these ruling ideas of the century ; the freedom and unre- stricted opportunity of the individual and the spirit of generous fraternity. The old warfare between the Protestant denominations has virtually ceased. Co-operation in religious and reformatory effort — the Young Men's Christian Association, the Women's Christian Temperance Union, the Associations Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor, the Inter- national Lesson system, the State and International Sunday- school Conventions, the Evangelical Alliance, the Chautauqua Assemblies, the exchange of pulpits, the frequent union revival meetings held by repre- sentative evangelists, the ease with which ministers pass from one denomina- tion to another, the warm, personal friendships between representative leaders of the several Churches, the growth and enrichment of non-denom- inational periodical literature — these are some of the signs of the larger thought now controlling our people. The American Church, which imposes no creed but the creed of the Republic, which knows no lines of division — sectarian, political, or ter- * ., , c ritorial — but which seeks the well-beino- of the individual and The Value of , , ° . Religion in the fellowship of all true citizens, will soon wield an immense Politics influence in matters political. It will discuss great ethical questions ; it will carry conscientiousness and independence into political action ; it will dissipate the weak heresy that Christians are not to take part in national affairs. In the days of Christ and the Apostles, the governing powers, the rulers of this world, were beyond the touch and control of the people. It was for them humbly to serve and uncomplainingly to suffer. But now all this has been changed. The people to-day stand where Csesar used to stand ; and to be a thoughtful, conscientious, active, consistent politician, is to be doing God's service. The church member who neglects political duty is guilty of sin against both God and the neighbor. The power of the people will be felt for good when the people begin to know and to defend the true and the good. They have during the century ex- pressed the purpose of the American Church on the subject of slavery. At its declaration the shackles have fallen. They pronounced against and destroyed the Louisiana Lottery. Through the press, the ballot, and the authority of law, the moral force of the nation expresses itself and the base conspirators surrender. So must it be with the saloon, and with all political evil. If politicians carry moral questions into the political arena, the pulpit and all other agencies of the church must go with the question THE AMERICAN CHURCH before the people, and lead them to consider it no less from the moral than from the political point of view. de from the development of the Christian religion as distinctively displayed in the United States, its progress in the world at been jreal and encouraging. Particularly has the spirit of sectarianism, strongly manifested a century ago, decreased in I nd fanaticism diminished. while the sentiment of union and brotherhood en churches of different sects has developed to a highly encouraging d Outside of Christendom the influences of the religion of Christ bave been widely spread by the active and enthusiastic labors of mis- sionaries, who have carried the lessons of the Gospels to all lands, and established Christianity among numerous trilu-s formerly in the lowest sta i( heathenism and idolatry. The success of these dev l>een much less among peoples po 1 of a religious faith of a higher grade, as :he Mohammedans, Hindoos, and Chinese, and perhaps the nost important results of their labors everywhere have been ; l r"'? n . : * ry r J Activity ;hose of education and civilization, necessary preliminary n the case of ignorant and undeveloped peoples, to a just comprehension )f the principles of Christianity and the inculcation of advanced moral sentiments and the higfh standard of the Golden Rule. The religious history of the century does not end with the relation of :he progress of Christianity. There has indeed been some degree of ■eaction of heathenism upon Christian countries, particularly in the case of Buddhism, whose doctrines have made their way into Europe and America, ind gained there a considerable body of adherents. This infiltration from vithout has developed into what is known as the Theosophical Society, which claims over 100,000 members in the United \" e g °" s stales alone. In addition may he named various new religious intgrowths of home origin, including the Mormons, the Spiritualists, the Christian Scientists, and others of less prominence. Similar new sects have irisen in Mohammedan and Hindoo countries, such as the Babists in Persia md the Brahmo Somaj in India, these latter being distinctive reforms on ;he more ancient religious creeds and practice What has been said above does not show the full extent of the religious novement within the century. There has been an active spirit ol progress vithin the lines of denominational religion itself, and liberal sentiment has riade a marked and promising advance. The former insistance upon creed is the essential factor in religion has greatly weakened in favor of its ethical dement, and the supremacy of conduct over creed is openly taught. Again, ;he old religion of fear is giving way before a new religion of love. The 6io THE AMERICAN CHURCH doctrine of future punishment, and the attempt to swell the lists of church members by insistence upon the horrors of Hades, are rarely heard in The Religion of the pulpits of to-day, the old Hell-fire conception having be- Fear and of come at once too preposterous and too alien to the character of Love the All Wise and All Good to be any longer entertained except by the most ignorant of pulpit orators. In truth, the doctrines of the modern pulpit are rapidly rising towards the level of Christ's elevated teach- ings, and inculcating love and human brotherhood as the essential elements of the Christian faith. The growing spirit of liberalism has given rise to a large body of moralists who repudiate the idea that faith in a creed is essential to salva- tion, and claim that moral conduct is the sole religious element that is likely to influence the future destiny of mankind. Persons of this class are specially numerous in the ranks of the scientists, whose habit of close observation, and rigorous demand for established facts as the The Spirit of basis of all theoretical views, unfit them for acceptance of anv Liberalism ... r ... , r . . ' doctrines insusceptible of rigid demonstration from the scien- tific standpoint. This requirement of hard and fast evidence, appealing directly to the senses, and discarding all reliance upon the ideal or upon the broad consensus of ancient belief, has no doubt been carried too far, and has yielded a narrowness of outlook which will be replaced by broader con- ceptions as psychological science develops. That it exists now, however, cannot be denied, and its adherents constitute a very large and influential body. Yet it must be said that science and religion, for a time widely separated, are growing together, and that in all probability the final outcome of modern thought and research will be an alliance between these two great forces, a religion which science can accept and a science in full accord with religious views and principles. If we now turn aside from religion as a whole, and consider only its ethical side, it is to find an immense advance within the nineteenth century. The standard of right conduct may not have risen, but the The Movement sen t; men t of human sympathy and of the brotherhood of man- in Ethics 111 kind has very greatly developed, and human charity and fellow feeling, a century or two ago largely confined within the limits of a nation or a city, are now coming to embrace all mankind. There has been a ereat amelioration in manners and customs within the century, a great decrease in barbarity and cruelty. A few examples will suffice to point this out. The barbarous practices in regard to child labor which existed in 1800 and much later have often been depicted in lurid colors, the selfish greed of employers giving rise to a "massacre of the innocents" as THE AMERICAS' CHURCH 611 declared and even more cruel in its methods than that of the time of Christ. Thousands of children in the days of our grandfathers wei simply tortured to death in dark and dank mines or eloomy Child Labor in 1 J o . Factories ind unhealthy workshops, at an age when they should have »een alternating between the useful confinement of the schools and the healthful freedom of the playgrounds and the fields. 'This state of affairs lappUy no longer exists, and in the present condition of public sentiment :ould not be reproduced. The world has grown decidedly beyond the level Df such heartless cruelty. The development of sympathy has not confined itself to a redress of ihe wrongfs of children, hut has made itself manifest in attention to the wrongs of workmen as a whole, factor)- inspection having put an end to nany unhealthful and oppressive conditions formerly iling, and sa :housands of workmen from being p I in the midst of their daily abors. And not only human hem dumb animals, have been re-ached 3y the awakened sympathy oi modern communities. A century ago the loble and patient was frequently treated with the p reve ntinn of ltmost brutality, without a hand or a voice being raised in its Cruelty to lefence. This barbarity was accepted as a part of i ab- ! and necessary order of things, and dismissed with a shrug or perhaps without a thought. To-day, in th< nli is, this state of :hings has ceased to exist. Societies for the prevention of cruelty to mimals keep a clo h upon the brutally inclined, and have almost aut an end to cruel practices which formerly prevailed without a word of pro- :est, domestic animals being now protected as carefully as human beii In no direction did the lack of kindly sentiment of a century ago show itself more decisively than in prison management. We do not mean :o say that philanthropy did not then exist, but that it was far from being ;he activi nent it has become to-day, and was largely without efl jpon legislators ; the condition alike of coi ed criminals, of debtors, and }f those held for trial being in many cases almost indescribably horrible. rhe firsl tive movement towards prison reform was made by John Howard, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, but ,,11 11 i ' r Prison Retorm 3uhhc sentiment was so dulled towards the condition ot >risoners that the horrors painted out by him were in great m per nittcd to continue. The !■ ind could not he awakened to my active interest in the inmates of the gaols. When Elizabeth Fry made her first visit to the female department of Newgate, the city prison of London, in 1813, she found a state of affairs ivhose horrors words are weak to convey. The women inmates " were limited 6iz THE AMERICAN CHURCH to two wards and vwo yards, an area of about one hundred and ninety-tw< superficial yards in all, into which some three hundred women with their chil dren were crowded, all classes together, felon and misdemeanant, tried anc untried ; the whole under the superintendence of an old man and his son They slept on the floor, without so much as a mat for bedding. Many wen very nearly naked, others were in rags ; some desperate fron nson iea wanr . of food, some savage from drink, foul in laneuao-e, stil Century ago ... ° more recklessly depraved in their habits and behavior. Every thing was filthy beyond description. The smell of the place was quite dis gusting." The condition of affairs on the men's side, unless they were able to pa] for better accommodations, was similar to that here described. Their treat ment, indeed, depended largely on the amount of money they could pay th< jail officials and they were fleeced without mercy. The practice of fettering them was so common that nearly every one wore irons, even the untriec being often laden with fetters, while their limbs were chafed into sores b) the weight of these useless instruments of torture. The report of the Prison Discipline Improvement Society, at as late i date as i S 1 8, shows the existence of an almost incredible state of things ir English prisons. Many of the gaols were in the most deplorable condition and crowded far beyond their powers of accommodation. All prisoner: passed their time in absolute idleness, or spent it in gambling and loose conversation. The debtors were crowded into the narrowest quarters con ceivable. Twenty men were forced to sleep in a space twenty feet long by six wide — accomplishing this seemingly impossible feat by "sleeping edgeways." In the morning the stench and heat were something terrible "the smell on first opening the door was enough to knock down a horse.' The jail hospitals were filled with infectious cases, and in one room, sever feet by nine, with closed windows, where a boy lay ill with fever, three othei prisoners, at first perfectly healthy, were found lodged. It is no wondei that the deadly jail fever raged as an epidemic in such pest holes, and ever communicated itself to the judges before whom these wretches were broughl for trial. We have by no means told all the horrors of prison life at that period, but will desist from giving any more of its painful details. It need scarcely be said that an utterly different state of affairs now exists in Prison Life au civilized lands, prisoners being treated as human beings in- stead of wild beasts ; and so warm is the feeling of public sym- pathy with the wretched that any of the horrors here depicted would raise a universal cry of deprecation in the land. Kindness is now the rule THE AMERICAN CHURCH 613 in dealing with criminals of all grades, and every effort is made to supply them with employment, and to attend to the requirements of comfort and cleanliness. Prisons are rapidly developing into schools for reform, and with remarkable success where systems of this kind have been fully developed. The laws of a century ago were barbarous almost beyond conception at the present day. Capital punishment, now confined to murderers, was then inflicted for some twenty-five separate crimes, including forgery, coining, sheep or horse stealing, burglary, cutting and maiming, rick-burning, robbery, arson, etc. There were, in fact some two hundred capital crimes on the statute books, but most of these had grown obsolete. Yet such r , ... . ... , Capital Punish- a minor onence as stealing in a dwelling house was a crime m entini8oo punishable by hanging, and men were occasionally executed on the gallows for a small theft that would now subject them to only a few months of imprisonment. It was not until after 1830 that an amelioration in these severe laws began, and with such effect that the number of persons sentenced to death in England decreased from 458 in 1837 to fifty-six in 1839. After 1841 the death penalty was indicted only for murder, though seven other crimes remained capital by law until 1861. The practice of public executions was another barbarous feature of the code, and the scenes around the gallows at Tyburn, on the occasion of the execution of any criminal of note, were so disgraceful that it seems in- credible that they could exist in any civilized land. Other ,. r , , , , , ,. 1 .1 • ■ r 1 Public Execu- relics of the dark ages were the public exhibition of the tions bodies of the executed, and hanging: in chains on a gibbet, a practice in vogue until 1832. In one case mentioned, at that late date, "a sort of fair was held, gaming tables were set up, and cards were played under the gibbet, to the disturbance of the public peace and the annoyance of all decent people." It will suffice to say here that this state of affairs has been reformed out of existence. Executions, restricted solely to murderers, now take place wholly in private, and so great is the public desire to prevent suffering to the condemned that the first electrical execution in New York raised a cry of horror when it was announced that life did not cease within the few seconds expected, but that the power of sensation continued for perhaps a minute. In truth, in this instance, there was something of a hyper-sensibility manifested, but one of a kind creditable to human nature. The development of the spirit of sympathy with the poor and suffering is by no means confined to the instances stated, but has gained an extra- ordinary extension. The rapid progress of railroad and steamship com- 34 6i 4 THE AMERICAN CHURCH munication, the enormous increase in travel, and the bringing of the ends of the earth together by means of the telegraph wire have made of all mankind one great family, and the instinct of charity and benevolence The Spirit of reaches to the most remote quarters of the globe. Notable results of this feeling, of recent date, have been the efforts to ameliorate the suffering in India during the late famine, the war instigated by sympathy in Cuba, the earnest efforts to supply food to the starving in Porto Rico, and the fervent feeling aroused in favor of the unjustly punished Dreyfus. In regard to charity at home, the instances of it are voluminous beyond our power to record. Hospitals, asylums, institutions of benevolence of the most varied character, have been everywhere instituted, alike in Europe and America, mainly through public donations, and there is no form of want or suffering which is not met by some attempt at allevia- The Growth of t j Homes for the afflicted of every kind are rising: in all Chanty , . . } . & directions ; charity is organized and active to a degree never before seen ; the bettering of the condition of the poor by improved resi- dences, methods of recreation and instruction, and other acts of aid and kindness is actively going on, and in a hundred ways benevolence is striving to lift man from want and degradation into comfort and advanced conditions. What is known as altruism, the sentiment of fellow feeling, is, in part, coining to be one of the active conditions of the age, and is among the most promising signs of the times. Selfishness, indeed, is abundantly prevalent still, yet altruistic feeling is rapidly on the increase, and gifts for benevolent purposes of all kinds are becoming remarkably abundant. Hundreds of instances might be named, but we shall confine ourselves to one, Andrew Carnegie's wise and kindly devotion of the income of his great fortune to the founding of public libraries, than which nothing could serve better to bring man into a condition of mind which will prevent him from becoming a willing object of charity. Certainly the Golden Rule is bearing fruit in these later days, and men are widely doing unto others as they would wish to be done by. The old, An Advanced narrow idea of patriotism is being replaced by a growing senti- Spirit of ment of the brotherhood of all mankind, and altruism is mak- i ing its way upward through the dense mass of selfism which has so long dominated the world. It is still only in its pioneer stage, but the indications of its growth are encouraging, and we may look forward with hope to a day in which it will become the leading influence in the social world, and selfishness lose its "long and strong hold upon the heart of man. it K 2 7- «. •Z r Z 2 7*' • w JH JH CHARLES HADDON SPURGF.OX FREDERICK W. FARRAR WRITERS OF RELIGIOUS CLASSICS CHAPTER XLII. The Dawn of the Twentieth Century. THE nineteenth century saw the modern world in its making. At its opening the long mediaeval era was just ceasing to exist. The French Revolution had brought it to a sudden and violent termina- tion in France, and had sown the seeds of the new- ideas of equality and fraternity and the rights of man widely over Europe. In the new world a great modern nation, instinct with the most advanced ideas _, NI . b ... . . riie Nineteenth of liberty and justice, had just sprung into existence, a nation Centuryand without royalty or nobility, and whose leaders wt-vc. the the Era of , ..... . . . Medievalism chosen servants, not the privileged masters, ot the people. This grand political revolution, with which the century began, was paralleled with as notable an industrial revolution. The invention of the steam engine had brought to an end the mediaeval system of industry. The old, individual, household era of labor, where every man could be his own master and supply his own capital, ceased to exist; costly labor-saving machines, needing large accumulations of capital, came into use ; great buildings and the centralization of labor 1 necessary; and the factory in, which has had such an immense development in the nineteenth century, began its remarkable car With the opening and progress of the nineteenth century came other conditions of prime importance. Invention, which first became active near the end of the preceding century, now flourished until its _. _ 1 & - ' . The Century's results seemed rather the work ol than of plain human Wonderful thought and work. £ , which already had made some stages of l*roirross notable triumphs, gained an undreamed-of activity and hun- dreds of the deep secrets ol the universe were unfolded. Discovery and exploration achieved surprising results. At the beginning of the century half the world was unknown. At its end only the frozen realms of the poles remained unexplored, and civilization was making its way into a hun- dred haunts of ancient savagery. Literature and art, while they can claim no works of acknowledged superiority as compared with the master pii of past centuries, have displayed a remarkable activity, and the number of meritorious books now annually issued is one of the most extraordinary events of the centur\ 617 6i8 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY Not less important is the immense progress in education. The school- house forms the great mile-post on the highway of progress. It is even- where in evidence. Free schools extend throughout the civilized world, and reach upward to a plane far beyond the highest level of public educa- tion a century ago, linking the common school with the college, and forming a direct stepping stone to university education, which has widened out with similar activity. In methods of education a marked rogressm advance has been made, while the text-books of to-day are Education _ ' almost infinitely superior to those of the earlier period. And education is turning its attention in a highly encouraging degree towards practical subjects and away from that incubus of the dead languages which was so strenuously insisted upon in the past. Man is going back to nature in education, observation is supplementing book knowledge, and experiment taking the place of authority. In short, education, with its handmaids, the book and the newspaper, is making its way into the humblest of homes, and man is everywhere fitting himself for an intelligent discharge of his social, industrial and political duties. As regards the development of the spirit of charity and human brother hood, it has been spoken of in the preceding chapter and does not need recapitulation here. Yet there is one stage of advance of which nothing has so far been said, but which is of high and significant importance, namely, the great progress made in the educational industrial and political position of woman. In the beginning of the nineteenth century education, except of the most elementary character, was in great measure confined to boys. In 1788 the village fathers of Northampton, Mass., where Smith's t..," 1 Colleoe for women is now situated, voted "not to be at the of Women & expense of schooling girls;" and in 1792 the selectment of Newburyport decided that "during the summer months, when the boys have diminished, the Master shall receive ends for instruction in grammar and reading, after the dismission of the boys in the afternoon, for an hour and a half." The site of this schoolhouse, to which, as is believed, women were first admitted on this continent to an education at public expense, is still shown with pride to visitors. The same town established in 1803 four girls' schools, the first on record, to be kept six months in the year, from six to eight in the morning and on Thursday afternoon. Step by step the free school was opened to girls, and gradually institu- tions for the higher education of women were established, the pioneer college which opened its doors to the fair sex being Oberlin, in Ohio, in 1833. The advance since then has been great, and at the opening of the THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 619 twentieth century there was not a ;l I of the Alleghanies which denied to woman the full advantages of education, while the same was the case in many ol the older colleges of the East. In 1805 Matthew Vassar founded in Poughkeepsie, X. Y., the first college exclusively for women. To this is now added Smith, Wellesley and Wom en'sCol- Bryn Mawr Colleges, within whose doors the highest advan- tages ol education are to be obtained. The distinctio and girls in education, in short, has nearly ea I to exist in this country, and is in a fair way ol vanishing in Europe. In industrial occupation the advance of woman has been as great. A century ago few avenues of labor were open to them outside the household, and such work as was performed was miserably paid for. At present there is not an industry which they desire or are suited to follow from which they are debarred, and the last census enumerated four thousand different branches of employment in which women were engaged. This, 1 only in the lower, but in many of the higher employments. Women physicians are numerous, women lawyers and preachers are coming into the field, women professors teach in schools and colleges, and women authors have given us some of the b >ks of the century. Politically the progress, while not so great, has been encouraging. In the middle of the nineteenth century no woman had a right to vote, and the thought of woman suffrage was just being evolved. At the end of the century women possessed the fullest privileges of the suffrage in the four states of Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming and Utah, and partial suffrage in many oilier states, while a much wider extension of this privilege o ccupat j on and seemed not far distant. In many European co , and Suffrage for in the British colonies of Australia, New Zealand, Cape Colony, Canada, and parts of India, woman had won the right to vote, under various restrictions, for municipal and school officers. Such has been the progress in this direction of a half century. What else shall be said of the state of .affairs at the dawn of the twentieth century? Perhaps one of the most significant and promising movements of the time is that taken with the obj& t ol bringing war, which has nu>ed upon the earth since the primitive thus of mankind, _ & 1 . . .' . Peace Proposi- ti an end. ddm movement in this direction, singularly tionsofthe enough, emanated from the monarch of the most unpro- Emperor of gressive of civilized lands, but one whose size and power give prominence and influence to any proposition coming from its court. On August 24, 1898, Count Muravieff, foreign Minister of Russia, by order of 620 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY the Emperor Nicholas II., handed to the representatives of foreign govern- ments at St. Petersburg copies of a proposition of such importance, that we give it below in full : " The maintenance of general peace and the possible reduction of the excessive armaments which weigh upon ail nations present themselves in existing conditions to the whole world as an ideal toward which the en- deavors of all governments should be directed. The humanitarian and magnanimous ideas of His Majesty the Emperor, my august master, have been won over to this view in the conviction that this lofty aim is in con- formity with the most essentia! interests and legitimate views of all the powers ; and the Imperial Government thinks the present moment would be favorable to seeking the means. " International discussion is the most effectual means of insuring all people's benefit — a real durable peace, above all, putting an end to the progressive development of the present armaments. " In the course of the last twenty years the longing for general appease- ment has grown especially pronounced in the consciences of civilized nations ; and the preservation of peace has been put forward as an object of inter- national policy. It is in its name that great states have concluded between themselves powerful alliances. "It is the better to guarantee peace that they have developed in pro- portions hitherto unprecedented their military forces, and still continue to increase them, without shrinking" from any sacrifice. " Nevertheless, all these efforts have not yet been able to bring about the beneficient result desired — pacification. " The financial charges following the upward march strike at the very root of public prosperity. The intellectual and physical strength of the nations' labor and capital are mostly diverted from the natural application, and are unproductively consumed. Hundreds of millions are devoted to acquiring terrible engines of destruction, which, though to-day regarded as the last work of science, are destined to-morrow to lose all their value in consequence of some fresh discovery in the same field. National culture, economic progress, and the production of wealth are either paralyzed or checked in development. Moreover, in proportion as the armaments of each power increase, they less and less fulfil the object the governments have set before themselves. " The ecomomic crisis, clue in a great part to the system of armaments a loutrance, and the continual danger which lies in this massing of war material, are transforming the armed peace of our days into a crushing burden which the peoples have more and more difficulty in bearing. 7 HE DAWN OF 7 HE 7 / I EN 7 IE J J I ( ENTl 'A' Y G 2 1 " It appears evident that if this state of things were to be prolonged it would inevitably lead to the very cataclysm it is desired to avert, and the horrors whereof make every thinking being shudder in advance. ' To put an end to these incessant armaments and to seek the means of warding off the calamities which are threatening the whole world — such is the supreme duty to-day imposed upon all states. " Filled with this idea, I lis Majesty has been pleased to command me to propose to all the governments whose representatives are accredited to the Imperial Court the assembling of a conference which shall occupy itself with this grave problem. "This conference will be, by the help of God, a happy presage for the century which is about to open. It would converge into one powerful focus the efforts of all states sincerely seeking to make the great conception of universal peace triumph over the elements of trouble and discord, and it would, at the same time, cement their agreement by a corporate consecration of the principles of equity and right whereon rest the security of states and the welfare of peoples." This hopeful proposal did not, unfortunately, produce the result hoped for by its distinguished promulgator. Doubt of the honesty of the czar and his advisers, and mutual jealousies of the powers ol Europe, si in the way of an acceptance of the proposition to reduce The Peace Con- the enormous armaments of the great nations. N. et, despite ferenceat this, it was not without important results in the direction e ague of doing away with tin: horrors of war and bringing about the reign of peace upon the earth. A peace conference oi representatives of the nations, in accordance with the suggestion of the czar, was held at The Hague, the capital of the Netherlands, in the spring of (899, and resulted in the adoption of a scheme of international arbitration which is full of promise for the future, as an important step in the direction of settling international disputes in the high courts of the nations instead of on the bloody held of war. It proposes to adopt in regard to the nations the prin- ciple long since in vogue in regard to their people, that of the legal in place of the violent redress of wrongs and settlement ol dis- r , . , . " . , 1 r 1 1 The Court of putes. A permanent court oi arbitration is to be 1 ished, Arhitratfon composed ol mm amply competent to deal with the questions likely to come before them, and enjoying the public confidence, to deal with national disputes which previously had no other ready arbiter but the sword. There is, it is true, no legal obligations upon nations to submit their differ- ences of opinion to this tribunal, but there is a high moral obligation, 622 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY whose force is sure to grow as the years pass on, and in the establishment of this court we have the most promising step yet taken towards the aboli- tion of the barbaric custom of war. With the question of the development of the peace sentiment comes that of the advance of industry, which has been one of the most important results of nineteenth century progress. This, as already indicated in these pages, has made an enormous advance within the century, the invention of labor-saving machinery having so enhanced man's powers of production that the results of each person's labor is very much greater than that of a cen- tury ago. Where slow hand processes then widely prevailed, now the whirr of wheels, the intricate play of almost human-like machines, al > or having which need the eve rather than the hand of the mechanic, Machines 7 turn out products in astonishing profusion and phenomenal cheapness, while the "man with the hoe" of the past is everywhere making way for the man with the machine. The rate of progress in this direction has been well shown in the suc- cessive fairs of the nations, of which, as we have already stated, the first was held in Paris in the first year of the century, while the last was held in 1900, the closing year of the century. Between these two dates a large number of fairs, international and national, have been held in Europe and America, each surpassing its predecessor in size and in the variety and originality of its exhibits, and each showing new and important steps of advance. It was the middle of the century before the ideas of mankind expanded to the concep- tion of an international exhibition, or "world's fair," the first of which was held in London in 185 1. Since then many others on this extended scale have been held, the first in the United States positions . ' being the Centennial Exposition at Philadelphia in 1876. The Columbian Exposition, which followed at Chicago in 1893, was full of indications of great progress in the intervening seventeen years, especially in the department of electricity, which had made a remarkable advance in the interval. Still more significant, as showing the vast industrial progress of the United States, was the National Export Exposition at Philadelphia in 1S99, a display of commercial products significant of the great develop- ment of American commerce in the final decade of the century, and justly held in the city which had established the first great commercial museum in the world. As indicative of the progress in American commerce, a few statistics may be of importance. In 1873 tne exports of the United States amounted to $522,479,922, a sum surpassed by that of the imports, which reached $642,136,210. In 1892 the exports had increased to $1,030,278,148; the THE DAWN OF THE TVSEN7IETH CENTURY 623 fmports reaching $827,402,462. In 1898 the total exports ! the great sum of $1,231,482,330; while the imports fell to a lower figure than in 1873, the total i S6 16,050,654, almost exactly one half the sum of the exports. It must further be said that these exports are Development of no longer predominately agricultural, as in the earlier period, American but that the mechanical products of the United Stales are being Commerce sent abroad in a constantly increasing ratio. And a significant fact in this ion is that of our growing sum of exports to England herself, long the dominant lord of manufacture and commerce. This is strikingly indicated in the shipment of locomotives for use on English railroads, and of iron bridges for English use by the British authorities in Egypt, the rapidity and cheapness with which American workshops can turn out their products being the ruling elements in this remarkable diversion of trade. The progress in other fields of hum. m endeavor, as indicated at the dawn of the twentieth century, has been equally pronounced. Science, for example, manifests a wonderful activity, and displays results of bewildering variety and great importance ; while- the ™£ ress in rapid and varied applications of scientific discoveries to useful purposes is one of the most significant signs of the age. Striking recent examples of this ha\ the Rbntgen ray and wireless telegraphy. Politically the world has been by no means at rest during- the century. In 1800 despotisms, of greater or less rigidness, controlled most of the countries of the world. The republic of the United Netherlands had been overthrown, that recently established in France was sinking under the autocracy of Napoleon, and the small mountain-girdled republic of Switzer- land alone remained. Beyond the sea, this was matched by a new republic, that of the United States, at thai time imall and of little importance in the councils of the world. In 1900 a vast. change manifested itself. The whole double continent of America was occupied by republics, Canada being practically one under distant supervision, Evolution France had regained its republican institutions, and ("Treat Britain had all the freedom of a republican form of government. Through all Western Europe autocracy had vanished, constitutional governments having succeeded the absolutism of the past, and the only strongholds of autocracy remaining in Europe Russia and Turkey, in both of which the embers of revolution were smouldering, and might at any moment burst into flame. These are not the only significant signs of progress which present themselves to us at the dawn of the twentieth century. In truth, in a hundred directions the world has been equipping itself for the new century, 624 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY which seems to have before it a destiny unequalled in the history of the world. It is of special importance to observe how prominent the Anglo- Saxon peoples have been in the great advance which we have chronicled. Great Britain, and, following in her footsteps, the United States, have occupied the position of the leading manufacturing and commercial nations of the world. The contracted boundaries of the British Islands long since proved too narrow to contain a people of such expanding enterprise, and they have gone forth, " conquering and to conquer," settling and developing, Great Develop^ until, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the empire of ment of Great Great Britain and its colonies covered an area of 11,336,806 square miles, inhabited by 381,037,374 human beings. This area is nearly one fourth that of the habitable land surface of the earth, and its population quite one fourth of all mankind. The East Indian possessions of this great empire are larger than all Europe without Russia, and the North American ones, if their water surface be included, are larger than the whole of Europe. The other nations which have made a great advance in territory are Russia, with its 8,644,100 square miles of territory, and the United States with its 3,602,990. But in both the latter cases these are compact terri- Territorial tories, held not as colonies, which at any time may break Progress of loose, but as integral parts of the national domain. This is particularly the case in the United States, whose territory is inhabited by a patriotic and largely homogenous population, and is not made up of a congeries of varied and dissatisfied tribes like those of Russia. The remaining great territorial nation is France, which, with its colonial acquisitions, covers 3,357,856 square miles of territory. But France her- self is only 204,177 square miles in extent, and her immense colonial dominions in Africa are held by so weak and uncertain a tenure as to count for little at present in the strength of the nation. A significant fact, in respect to the recent proposition to establish a universal language, is that the English form of speech, spoken in 1801 by 20,000,000 people, is now used by 125,000,000. Russian comes next, with Probable Future 90,ooo,ooo, German with 75,000,000, French with 55,000,000, of English Spanish with 45,000,000, and Italian with 35,000,000. The pe * rate of increase in the use of English has far surpassed that of any other language, and it is said that two-thirds of the letters that pass through the post-offices of the world are written and sent by people who speak this cosmopolitan tongue. This immense advance of the English form of speech is full of signifi- cance. If it goes on, the question as to which is to become the dominant THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 625 Emguage of the world will settle itself by a natural process, and the- n< sity oi inventing a special form of speech will be obviated. English is to-day tin chiel commercial language of the world, and is fast becoming the polite tongue of Europi mi held a century ago by French. By til* end of the twentieth century it may will have become the only langu; ; les their own which tin- peoples of the earth will find it necessary to learn. And its marked simplicity of grammatical form adapts it to destiny beyond any other of the prominent languages of mankind. To return to the subject under consideration, that of nineteenth 1 tury progress, it may be claimed as due to several influences, materially to the extended use of the forces oi nature in mechanical proo in which it went far beyond any of the ear nturies ; scientifically to the rapid extension of observation and the vast co n ol facts. While influences Aid- there was no superior faculty of generalization, this accumula- ins Deveiop- tion of scientific facts addeil greatly to the probability of the men theoretical conclusions thence derived. Again, this activity in investigation, ind the great increase of the numbers engaged in it, are legitimate results Df the extension of education, and in a large measure of the replacement of Classical In scientific instruction. The progress in ethical sentiment is doubt- less largely due to the same cause, that of educational development. This lias gone far to dispel the cloud of ignorance which formerly hung heavily bver the nations, to ripen human intelligence, to broaden man's outlook, .0 extend his interest far beyond the range of his immediate surroundings, and, by increasing his information and widening his mental grasp, to develop his sympathies and enhance in him the sentiment of the universal arothcrhood of mankind. The intense activity of the human mind in those late days, and the quickness with which men take practical advantage of any new suggestion :>f workable character, are strikingly exemplified in an example that is well >vorth relating. In the famous sociological novel by Edward Bellamy, entitled " Looking Backward," in which the author describes an id :ommunity placed at a date near the end of the twentieth century, he aictures a number of advanced conditions which he evidently hopes will ixist at that coming period. One of these is a newspaper on a new type, 1 spoken instead of a written paper. By aid of telephone connections ■unning in all directions, the events of the da)- in all parts of the world iri- to be "phoned" to subscribers in their homes, while great orations, heatrical entertainments, concerts, etc.. m enjoyed without leaving heir rooms. 626 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY Whether suggested by this imaginative picture or not, it is said tha: something of this kind has been already introduced, a century in advance of its appointed time. We are told that the city of Budapest, Hungary] has had for several years a spoken newspaper named the Tclepliouc Gazette] in which all the news of the day are transmitted by telephone to the subscribers, who are constantly growing in numbers. It has a corps of forty reporters and literary men for the collecting and preparing of material, and sends its news to clubs, restaurants, cafes, public and private residences, the hours of publication beginning at 8.30 a.m., and continuing without interrup- tion until 11 p.m. Each hour is devoted to some special A Te ep one c l ass G f news, begfinnintr with telegraphic dispatches from Newspaper ... . . abroad, following with local and provincial news, etc., while at 8 p.m. there are given concerts, lectures, recitations, or other forms of instruction or entertainment. We have hitherto dealt solely with the progress of the nineteenth century. Now, standing like Bellamy at the dawn of the twentieth, it may be well to take a long look ahead, and strive to trace some stages of the probable progress of the coming time, looking forward from this summit of the ages and statine what this outlook into the dim and distant future brings to our eyes. Before making this effort there is one thing that needs to be said. The progress of the nineteenth century, great as it has been in various directions, must be considered as confined within comparatively narrow limits of space, its effects rapidly diminishing as we pass into the remoter lands of semi-civilization and barbarism. The United States, Western Europe, Limits of Nine- anc ^ such British colonies as Canada, Australia, and Cape teenthCen- Colony have been the seats of most active progress; Span- tury Progress j^ America, Russia, and Southeastern Europe have played secondary parts in this movement ; Asia, with the exception of Japan, has taken very little part in it ; and Africa almost no part at all, except in a few of its European settlements. This is one of the important directions in which we may look for a declared exercise of twentieth century activity, that of the planting of the results of recent civilization in all the regions of the earth. This work, as above said, has been done in Japan, whose people have responded with Progress in wonderful alacrity to the touch of the new civilization. In the China and great empire of China the response has been much less en- Hindostan couraging, not from lack of intellectual activity in its people, but from self-satisfaction in their existing institutions and culture. At the close of the nineteenth century, however, this resistance to the thought THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 627 id mechanical inventions of the West was rapidly giving way, and doubt- ssom- ol the triumphs of the twentieth century will be 1 ivenation of hina, which we may look to see rivalling fapan on the path of progn Of the other great centre of intellectual activity in Asia, the populous nd of Hindustan, its progress is likely to depend far more on its British terlords than on the people themselves. While as mentally a< I the hinese, the Hindoos are far less practical. The Chinaman is native! an of business, and needs only to be convinced that some- new method i i his advantage to take active hold of it. The Hindoo is a dreamer, markably lacking in the business instinct, and is so deeply imbued with the icient religious culture of his land that it will not ho easy to rouse him om the fatalistic theories in which his whole nature ped. National ■ogress in that land must be the work of British energy, but it has already ade such marked advance that India may be trusted to wheel into line ith the West in the new century. The future oi the remainder of the world is less assured. The slow linking peoples of the remainder of Asia, the fanatical populations of [ohammedan lands, the negroes of Africa, the natives of brazil and l'ata- jnia, the inhabitants of the islands of the Pacific, the peoples A monjr the the tropics in general, all arc likely to act as brakes upon Duiu.Minded e wheels of progress, and the "white man's burden " with iese tribes and races during the twentieth century is certain to prove an duous one. Yet it is not well to be too pessimistic in regard to this problem. It ust be remembered that the work of the nineteenth century in these kinds is been largely one of discovery. The labor of settlement and develop- ent has only fairly begun ; what the results will be it is n lict. o make thinkers of these dull-minded savages and barbarians will perha ! the work of many centuries. To make workers of them is a far easier sk, and civilized processes may be active in all these lands long before the itions are in condition to appreciate them. One method of solving the ■oblem is already under way. In the Hawaiian Islands the native population rapidly disappearing and being replaced by a new one. In New Zealand has in great measure disappeared and British immigrants have taken its ace. The natives are diminishing in numbers elsewhere, as in Australia, he problem of civilization in many of the new lands is likely to be solved this easy way. But in the thickly settled countries this radical sola- in of the problem is not to be looked for, and the white man has he- re him the burden of lifting these unprogressive populations into a gher state. 628 THE DAWN OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY To come back to the question of the general advance of the world! during the twentieth century, we find ourselves facing a difficult and! varied problem. That the great progress of the nineteenth century] will be continued cannot well be questioned, but the directions this _ .... . progress will take is far from easy to decide. In some of its Conditions of l & _ ' Twentieth phases progress seems approaching its limiting point, in others Century j ts rapidity is likely to decrease, while in still others it may Development . . , , T . . ..... be enormously enhanced. It is by no means improbable that the development of human institutions" during the century at hand will be in quite different lines from those of the century just closed, less mechan- ical perhaps and more moral, less scientific and more philosophical, less political and more industrial, less laborious and more artistic. In some branches of invention and discovery we seem approaching a termination. It is not easy to see, for instance, how telegraphy can advance! in the future as it has in the past. Its powers seem nearing theirs ultimate measure of ease and rapidity. Yet it is dangerous to predict.; Here at the end of the century comes wireless telegraphy, with untold powers. And by its side appears telepathy, mental telegraphy, — the direct action of mind upon mind in a. manner analogous to that of telegraphing without wires — of which as yet we know little, yet which may have in it great possibilites of development. Other discoveries which seem approaching their ultimate condition are telephony, photography, illumination, and apparently labor-saving machinery in some of its fields, since the performance of some machines inn ions o a pp ears to have practically reached perfection. Transporta- tion may well be one of these. The rapidity of railroad travel will, no doubt, be increased, yet natural limitations must check its indefinite increase. The same may be said in regard to steamship travel, it appearing that any great future increase of speed must be at an increased ratio of cost so considerable as to bring development in this direction to a speedy termination. Of course, we are speaking only from our present point of view. It is quite possible that some new and luminous conceptions may break down the bars which now appear to be erected and open the way for new progress in all these directions. Yet it seems safe to assert, as a general principle, that development in any one direction can go on only unto a certain point, and that the limitations of nature must check it at that point. We cannot, indeed, well conceive of a greater activity of invention and a more rapid unfoldment of new processes than we. have had before us in the nineteenth century. But an equal activity may long continue. While 1 2. > o 9? 5! 2. c 2. S f 8 tn » ~ « - • m ■< H H I n c 2 < n 3) x> r T) pi > o m o O 2 O 3 n (0 (p Z J» 3 ni (0 o ■n o n r n O > H Fl (fl > z o o o < Fl 3) 2 3 n z H l Campaign in steadily forward, driving the natives from their works with the Philippines resistless charges, swimming rivers in the face of a sharp rifle lire, anil carrying everything before them. Calumpit, the second Filipino stronghold, was reached ami carried near the end of April ; San Fernando fell soon after, and General Lawton, whose long experience in Indian warfare admirably adapted him to this work, made his way northward through the foothills and occupied San Isidro, the second Filipino capital. These and other successes were not gained without much hardship and loss of life. Marching through swampy rice-fields and thorny chapparal, facing well-built earthworks at every few miles, and at a hundred points encountering an active ami persistent enemy, the soldiers of the States found their task' a severe and annoying one, and their ranks were considerably depleted when the coining on of the rainy season, at the beginning ot July, put an end to active operations for several months. Meanwhile an effort had been made to bring the insurrectionists to terms by peaceful measures. A Philippine Commission, consisting of Admi- ral Dewey and General Otis, and the civilians Jacob G. Schurman, Dean Worcester, and Charles Denb, was appointed to consider ami report on the situation, and b y issuing a proclamation in which the supremacy of the United States was declared, but the natives were offered 64 o THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS a large measure of civil rights and local self-rule. This proclamation proved of no avail, so far as the insurgent forces were concerned, Aguinaldo issuing counter-proclamations and calling on the people to accept no terms shorl of full independence. In the summer of 1899 Admiral Dewey returned home. On the 3d of March he had been promoted to the grade of full admiral, an exalted rank which before him had been borne only by Farragut and Porter; and during his journey home the whole world seemed eager to do him honor. In his own country he met with an enthusiastic reception, the Dewey's people everywhere greeting him as the most heroic figure of Return Home ^ l : ° & . . . , the recent war. As a testimony 01 appreciation they pur- chased him a beautiful home in the city of Washington, in which, taking to himself a wife, the grateful recipient settled down to rest and comfort after his arduous labors. With the close of the rainy season in Luzon the war began again, now with a larger army on the part of the Americans, who were also pro- vided with a much-needed force of cavalry. The Filipinos seemed to have lost heart through their reverses in the spring campaign, and fought with less courage than before, so that by the 1st of December they were in full flight for the mountains, pursued by Generals Lawton and Young with cav- alry and scouts. Alter this date the natives had nothing that could be called an army in the field. The forces under Aguinaldo were broken and dispersed, and were capable only of guerilla warfare, which, though annoy- ing, seemed likely only to delay the period of complete pacification. During the succeeding period there were frequent collisions with detached bands, in one of which the brave Lawton was shot dead. In the summer of 1900 President McKinley issued a proclamation of amnesty, of which many of the natives in arms took advantage. Aguinaldo, however, refused The Death tQ su b m ; t an j t h e CO stly guerilla warfare went on. Hope- of Lawton ' ° , * less as the cause of the Filipinos was held to be, they were not yet ready to submit, and the affair seemed as if it might be protracted for months to come. A somewhat similar state of affairs existed in South Africa, where the British-Boer war appeared likely to outlive the century. Here, too, organized resistance had largely degenerated into guerilla warfare, which was greatly aided by the broken and hilly character of the country. Lord Roberts, after establishing himself in Pretoria, had spread his forces widely out, with the hope of taking in a net the scattered commandos still in arms in the Orange River Free State, before devoting himself to Paul Kruger and his fellows in the northern Transvaal. But he found it much easier to set his THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 641 net than to catch his fish. The liners proved extraordinarily mobile. 1 hough some oi them sun !. a strong force continued in the field, and not only defied the British but succeeded in capturing detached bodies of them. General De Wet, their leader, showed a remarkable ability in this kind of warfare, anil escaped with ease and alertness every trap set for him, while striking his foes at unexpected points. Meanwhile, Kruger and the Transvaal force-, remained in the hill coun- try to the north, still defiant, and likely to give Lord Roberts no small trouble when he should be at liberty to attend to them. Though it was announced to the world that the struggle was practically at an t-nd and the South African republics had ceased to exist, the indications were that the British empire hada costly and troublesome war Guerilla War still before it, and that the twentieth century would dawn before Transvaal the Boers were subdued. The situations in the Transvaal and the Philippines were thus closely analogous, and the Anglo-Saxons of the East and the West alike were ending the century with an annoying and protracti d guerilla war on hand, the final outcome of which could not be foreseen. As the summer of iqoo approached there appeared indications of trouble in a new quarter, which threatened to overshadow these minor oper- ations and involve the whole civilized world in a conflict which might assume gigantic proportions. The vast empire of China, with its 400,000,- 000 of population, suddenly showed a violent hostility to foreigners, which endangered the lives not only of the missionaries scattered far and wide throughout the land, but even of the representatives of the Powersal 1'ekin— high dignitaries whose lives and liberty are held sacred by all civilized nations alike in peace and war. We must pro back and trace the course ol events leading to this lament- ed o able state ol affairs. For many years Europe had been heaping up "vials of wrath" in China. In the- "opium war," the French and . 1 How Eng.and English advance on Peking, and other hostile relations of and France China with the powers, that ancient nation had been Treated ... ... . .,. ,. ir- China treated with an injustice and a supercilious disregard of its rights and susceptibilities which could not fail to produce a widespread feeling of indignation. The pride of China lay in its ancient learning, it had never been a military nation and it was quite incapable of main- taining itself against these fighting foreigners, but it was abundantly capable of indignation for affronts to its dignity, and it was growing evident to far- seeing critics of world affairs that the time might come when the densely peopled old nation would turn on its enemies and exact ample retribution for its insults and injuries. 642 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS The turn in the tide came with the Japano-Chinese war. This had the double effect of showing the incapacity of the Chinese to cope in war with modern powers, and of vividly demonstrating to themselves these defects. The logical result followed. The nations of Europe, perceiving the weak- ness of the ancient empire, began to descend upon it like wolves upon their prey. What they did has been stated in an earlier chapter. Russia, Eng- land, Germany, and France alike took forcible possession of ports and terri- tory of the feeble old Oriental realm, and the newspapers were full of threats of a partition of the whole empire between the land-hungry nations, in utter disregard of the ethical aspect of the question. While this spirit of greed was displayed by the European nations, the statesmen of China were awakening to a perception of the urgency of the situation and the need of taking radical steps if they wished to save their empire from a total collapse. A spirit of reform began to show itself. Railroads had long been practically forbidden, but now concessions for the building of hundreds of miles of railroad were granted. Modern imple- ments and munitions of war were purchased in great quanti Reform in the jj es anc j European officers were engaged to drill and dis- Empire cipline the imperial army. European books were eagerly sought for, perhaps with the sentiment that they might contain the secret of European strength. The great nation was stirring in its sleep of centuries and besdnnincr to awake. The reformers gained the ear of the youthful emperor and infected him with their new ideas, with the result that radical changes were ordered in the administration — revolutionary ones, indeed, when attempted in a so strin- gently conservative nation as China. The result was one that might have been expected. The party of ancient prejudice and conservatism — a power- ful party in China — took the alarm. The empress-dowager, who had recently laid down the reins of power as regent, took them up again, under the sup- port of this dominant party, seized and practically dethroned the emperor, executed all his advisers upon whom she could lay hands, and restored the methods of the old administration in every respect except that of military discipline. This palace reaction made itself felt throughout the country. Hatred of foreigners, which had been growing for years in the Chinese populace, reached a perilous climax under this seeming sanction from the palace authorities in Peking, and in the spring of 1900 a murderous attack against the missionaries began. A secret society of Chinese athletes, known in English phrase as " The Boxers," rose in arms and made an onslaught upon the missionaries, a class of foreigners who were immediately exposed to THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVEA their attacks, and whom theyseem to have hated as virulently as the Filipinos hated the Spanish friars. The insurrectio id with extraordinary rapidity, many of the missionaries were murd nd the Boxers quickly appeared in multitudes in the capital, where, joined by many of the sold they made a violent assault on the foreign legations and put the lives of the ministers and their attendants in imminent peril. When tidings of this state of affairs i I the Western world then' was a wide-spread alarm. The ministers were cut off from all communica- tion with their governments; stories of their massacre, with details of terrible tortures, were sent abroad ; the murder of . . Outbreak the German .Minister and a fapai ncial was confirmed; there was much reason to believe that the government favored and its soldiers aided the Boxer hosts, and for the first time in history tl nations of Europe and America joined their forces in an attempt to avert a common danger The United States had kept apart from all seizur Chinese termor, md all schemes of partition of China. It contented it- self with demanding freedom of commerce— an " open door " to the Chinese market — and sedulously avoided interference with tint national affairs of the empire. But its minister, Edwin H. Conger, was in equal peril with those of other nations, and in this critical exigency it sent a hasty contingent of troops to China and joined the European powers in the work of rescue. We can give only an epitome oi the events that followed. A small force, made up of marines and soldiers of various nations, under Admiral Seymour of the British navy, made a hasty advance upon Peking. But they found the railroad torn up, and their route in . vith an overwhelming force of enemies, ami were forced to retreat, b scaping entire; destruc- tion. About the same time the allied fleets made an attack on the Chinese forts at Taku. In this the United Si 3 took no part, Admiral Remey declaring it to be uncalled for and un - A "akt Torts wise, an opinion which the succeeding appeared to sub- stantiate, since the Chinese government made this assault a pretext lor active war against the allied foro As an. act of reprisal, a strong I I boxers and soldiers made an attack on the foreign quarter of the city of Tien Tsin, lighting with a skill, courage and persistence which they had never shown before. They were well armed with ritles and cannon of the best types, which they used with effect, while they stubbornly resisted the efforts of the foreign forces to dislodge them. It needed a tierce struggle to effect this ami give the allies control of the city. Never before, had the Chinese fought the Europeans with such stubborn courage, and serious doubts of the final result began to be felt. 644 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS The nations hurried troops to the point of danger as rapidly as possible, Japan, which was in full accord with the Western powers, sending- the largest force. The United States sent troops from the Philippines, Great Britain from India, and Russia from her posts to the north; but all this took time, and the month of July passed before there was a sufficient force to justify a second advance. Meanwhile the danger of the ministers in Peking was daily growing more imminent and the mystery that surrounded them more pro- nounced. Gathered within the stout walls of the British legation, they fought off the ravening multitudes that clamored for their blood, while for weeks their people at home were in distressing doubt as to whether they were alive or dead. At length, early in August, the advance began, the army, about 16,000 strong made up of Japanese, Russians, British, and Americans. The French and Germans, who were as yet in small numbers, were left on guard at Tien Tsin. What degree of opposition would be encountered was not known. There were several strongly fortified towns on the way, and there was reason to believe that the lowlands would be flooded from the Peiho River, along whose banks the march took place. The midsummer heat of the climate added to the difficulties of the way, and the ability of the small army to reach Pekin was far from assured. As it proved, the Chinese had shown their greatest courage at Tien Tsin, and their opposition to the advance of the allies was halfhearted and ineffec- tive. They made a strong stand at Peitsang, a native town The Rescue of on t ^ Q p e iho, but were driven from their works, and from that the Ministers . . . . . . . rr point the allies marched to Peking with only feeble erforts to check their advance. The triple-walled city was reached on the 14th of August. On the 15th an assault was made on several of its gates. Here there was a resistance, but not a very vigorous one, and before nightfall the foreign forces were in the streets of the populous Chinese capital, the Americans and British the first. Marching in haste to the legations, they had the high gratification of finding the beleaguered officials alive, and of rescuing them from a siege which had lasted for weeks, and which, in a few days more, would probably have ended in assassination, as their powers of resistance were almost at an end. The joy of the wearied and almost hopeless men and women of the legations on seeing the stars and stripes and the union jack borne side by side to their rescue, can be better imagined than described. There soon followed the banners of Russia and Japan, and as the allied troops marched in triumph into the legation the cheers of the troops woke a responsive throb in the hearts of those whose hands they clasped and drew tears of joy THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS 645 to eyes that had long looked only on the dread form of fear and the threatened horror of death by torture. The situation, thus happily ended, was one that had rarely, if ever, presented itself before- in the history of the world. "riie rescue of the ministers at Peking ended all the concern of the United States in the issue. The government had practically pledged itself to withdraw its troops as soon as its embassy was safe and its relations with China properly adjusted, whatever course the other nations might pursue. It had no land hunger to gratify, like its European allies, and had no ends to gain by remaining. In fact, it had quite a surfeit of new possessions in the Philippines. These distant islands were proving a serious trouble not only abroad but at home. A part) - in opposition to the policy of the administration had arisen, which accused the government of imperialistic purposes, and called upon it to abandon the Philippines and permit their people to govern themselves. This party grew in strength as the war dragged on into its second year at a serious cost in money and lives, ami by the summer of 1900 it hail gained such power as to make its demand the dominant issue in the Presidential campaign of that year. Of all the home affairs of the nations in the closing year of the century this campaign was the most prominent and important event, and the only one which here calls for attention at our hands. It is true, a startling affair had Anarchists taken place in Europe. King Humbert of Italy had been shot dead by an assassin, and his son, Victor Emanuel III., was now kin- of that disturbed land. An attempt had also been made to a sinate the Shah of Persia, during his visit to the Paris Exposition ol the closing century. The Anarchists were abroad, Europe seemed seething with plots of royal murder, and the monarchs trembled on their thrones. Hut in the broad United States the one great question at issue was that of obtaining a new ruler by ballot instead of by bullet, or of reseating Presi- dent McKinley for another four years. The Republican National Convention met at Philadelphia in June, and nominated as its candidate for President the ruling incumbent of the office, Willliam McKinley, and for Vice-President Theodore Roosevelt, the governor of New York, and the hero of the battle of San Juan. The Democratic National Convention met at Kansas City in July, and nominated for President its standard bearer of four years before, \\ illiam Jennings Bryan, and for Vice-President, Adlai E. Stevenson, who has ahead)- served one term in this honorable office. So far as the presidential nominees were concerned, it was a renewal of the contest of 1896, McKii 646 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND ITS EVENTS being again pitted against Bryan. But as regards the principles to be fought for, the war cries of the campaign, there was a radical change, the old issues of the parties largely vanishing, and new issues being presented to the alert minded people of the United States. One old issue was revived, that of the Republican insistence on the gold standard of coinage and the Democratic demand for " the free and unlimited coinage of silver at the ratio of 16 to i." But this issue sank in great part out of sigdit in the campaign, as did Campaign , •«■ , • -T i , , , i r of 1900 tnat ot the tarin, which had been the bone 01 contention between the parties during many preceding campaigns. In this last year of the century two distinctly new questions were presented ; that of the Trust, the monopolistic combination of great business concerns ; and that of Imperialism, the Republican administration being accused of the purpose of converting the republic into an empire, so far as the control of its new possessions were concerned. The question of the Trusts was only a minor issue. Both parties condemned them in their platforms. The great question at issue, however, was that of Imperialism versus Anti- imperialism, and on this the result of the campaign seemed to depend, the orators speaking in ringing tones in favor or denunciation of the' policy of the McKinley administration in this regard. William McKinley had come to the helm of the ship of state in 1897 i n a period of profound peace and advancing prosperity. But his whole term had been one of war and turmoil, not only in the United States but in various other parts of the world. The war with Spain in 1898 had been followed by the acquisition of new territory and the development of new problems. Then in 1890. and 1900 came the insurrection of the Philippines and the British-Boer war in South Africa ; to be followed in 1900 by the outbreak against foreigners in China, and the invasion of that ancient realm by the allied forces of all -the great powers. Such a turmoil of the nations could not fail to bring important political questions to the front, and of these the great problem in America was that of Imperialism. Anti- War in the imperialism expanded from the war-cry of a minor faction to ministration tne declared policy of one of the two great political parties of the country, and the main question at issue in the Presi- dential campaign of 1900 was whether the United States should continue its work of subduing the Philippine insurgents, or should be withdrawn from the islands and leave the natives free to govern and control themselves. With this issue inscribed on their banners the two parties marched for- ward to the great war of the ballots at the end of the nineteenth century. BD-1 81 Z) I % o o ^ is v °o c- v *> V *v->>. o ' * A *0 *>- i» o_ * 4 °- Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proi Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide T-eatmentDate: HA y a .0 > V v PreservationTechnologl , * A WOHLD LEADER IN PAPER PBESERVA"" 111 Thomson Parts Drive Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 (724)779-2111 !>«* no .9 > V ^°' ^"^ ' ■ '. % 0° -*-_ - . 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