E Class E ^'^7 # / 1'^ GENERAL WOODHULL l^is monument. _y // \/'\XJbA^-%^- /' ^ / CKcncral ^iS^oottlmll antr l^fs J^lonumrnt. AN ORATION LIFE, CHARACTER, AND PUBLIC SERVICES, GEIERAL WATHAIIEL ¥OODHTJLL. ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN WOODHULL MONUMENT ASSOCIATION LUTHER R. MARSH, ESQ., OF THE NEW- YORK BAR. NEW- YORK : LEAVITT, TROW & CO., PRINTERS, 49 ANN-STREET. 1848. ADDEESS, To-day we have come together, to do justice to one of the Fathers of the RepubUc ; to honor the memory of one who, though sleeping well for many years, yet lives in our hearts. We would have him live forever in the hearts of his country- men. We would raise a pillar, on which the blessed light of Heaven may smile, as on an altar raised to virtue — a shrine to which patriots shall come and worship. We would plant, on this green eaith, a lofty monument, as a lasting witness of the beauty of high and heroic deeds. We would have a brave mausoleum shine over the dust of departed worth. We would present a votive offering to the Protector of the Republic, and make the place the Mecca of Liberty. We would record, on tablets of stone, our appreciation of the acts and character of an American Patriot, and, through him, of those compatriots, who, hke him, offered their lives that we might be free. We would do an act of justice too long delayed. We would make atonement for the neglect of the past. We would render honor to whom honor is due. We would establish a perpetual sign of a nation's gratitude. We'would rear this high obelisk, in no vain spirit of pageantry, but would consecrate it in earnestness and truth. The justice of a nation, though often long retarded, is al- ways sure. She may neglect, or appear to neglect, the memo- ry of her Heroes ; but she is gathering strength for a higher demonstration. She may omit, for a time, to honor, in the full- ness of their merit, those who have honored her ; but the time is sure to come, when returning gratitude will beat in the Na- tional heart, and beat the stronger for its long repose. The 4 doers of great deeds need never fear that they will be forgotten. Two hundred years rolled round before the biography of Crom- well could be impartially written. But inevitable justice has resumed her sway. The world now knows, or is beginning to know, how great and good a man is bursting the cerements of two centuries, and revealing his true stature to its view. They, who were permitted to carry their lives through the stormy struggle of the American Revolution — who witnessed its triumphant close — who saw every hostile foot removed from American Soil — the invading army conquered and humbled — the blockading fleets retracing, in defeat, their ocean furrows — the crowning peace — the commencement of our National ca- reer, a victorious and independent people — were already in part repaid for their sacrifices, their dangers and their toils. They had, at last, reached the object of their hopes, so stoutly striv- en for, so long delayed. The end was gained. The consum- mation — their country's freedom — for which property, liberty, reputation, life, friends were periled ; for which years of un- equal contest were maintained, was at length achieved. They had entered into the fruition of their labors. They had no more to hope for. They were ready to die on, and to repose in, the land their arms made free. They were ready to let the advanc- ing generation — their children — direct the peaceful energies of the country. The vision of a free people starting on the great pathway of Nations — successful rivals, in all the departments of life, with the ancient kingdoms of the ancient world — shat- tering olden creeds and dusty error— establishing man's right to himself, and his capacity to govern himself— this vision, which rose before the enraptured eyes of those who saw the close of the Revolution, was, in itself, happiness and reward. But they who fell on the gloomy morning of that day of strife, long before the struggling beams had dissipated the early mist — who, in the providence of God, were not permitted to be- hold the sun stram up the heavens, ah ! what sacrifices were theirs ! To die in combat, and to die in doubt — to feel that all might be in vain — that the surrender of their lives might be of no avail — that the shadows of uncertainty were flinging them- selves far into the future — that they might be forgotten in the stirring tumult that was to come — that, if they were remember- ed, they might be hailed as patriots, or branded as rebels — it was, indeed, at such a time, a hard thing to die. Of these, was General Herkimer, who, on the 6th of August, 1777, after receiving a mortal wound at Oriskany, died soon after, "like a Christian Hero," Of these, was Major General Warren, the earliest sacrifice on the altar of American Independence. Of these, was General Nathaniel WoodhuU — called to give up his life, to close his eyes upon all that was to come, to waive the glories of a successful defensive war— a war of principle and of right — to relinquish the multitudinous honors which such skill and gallantry could not fail to have given him, and, above all, to feel that he could no longer raise his voice or his arm, for that country which was dearer to him than life. Let us honor him, not only for what he was, and what he d[d,butfo?' what he would have been, and what he would have done. Whether these, early fallen, be permitted, by the sure Re- warder of all good deeds, to bend from their starry home, and watch the progress of their young Republic, we cannot know. If they be, let us, the humble emulators of the great Benefi- cence, do our part in accumulating their reward. But if mys- terious darkness veils us from their gaze, and they must wait to know what their country has become, till they read it on the great scroll of human history at its last unfoldings, then, God himself has made it our duty, to show Him some enduring memorial of our gratitude to Him, /or his Heroes. General Nathaniel Woodhull was born at Mastic, Long Island, on the 30th of December, 1722, ten years before the birth of the Father of his Country. Since then, a century and a quarter have rolled into the past. No man, born on that day, now survives. Descended from ancestors who were driv- en from their native England for their great love of liberty — too great for their age — it was natural that every element of his manhood should have waked to the battle-cry of liberty as it rung through the land. A youth of active industry fitted him peculiarly for the hardships of the coming struggle ; and an intellect of rare and substantial endowment, eminently qualified him for the con- 6 spicuous position he was to assume. At the age of thirty-six he entered the army as Major, under General Abercrombie, in the war between Great Britain and France. He acted his part in the bloody day of Ticonderoga. Subsequently, and in the same year, he was engaged in the successful expedition against Fort Frontinac, and, under superior orders, was compelled to per- form that hardest portion of a soldier's duty, to receive the fire of the foe without return. In 1760, we find him in the capacity of Colonel in the New York Provincials, engaged in the conquest of Canada. Again, like the old Roman, he returned to his plough. In 1769 he was again called into public service, and elected to represent, in the Colonial Assembly, the good people of the county of Suffolk. It was an important period. It was an emergency which called for men of clear heads and strong wills. Proceeding from one act of aggression to another against the liberties of her colonies, England had, at last, as- serted the right to tax them in all cases whatsoever. But the Assembly of New-York in 1768 had unanimously resolved, that no tax could or ought to be imposed on the persons or es- tates of his Majesty's subjects within the colony, but by their own free gift, and by their representatives in General Assembly — that the rights and privileges of the Legislatures could not be abridged, superseded, abrogated or annulled, and that they had a right to consult with other colonies in matters wherein their liberties might be affected. To maintain these principles the people of Suffolk selected Col. WoodhuU as their legislative champion, and announced their firm reliance upon their repre- sentatives, to preserve their freedom and the control of their purses. For six years did Col. WoodhuU devote himself to the fulfillment of these momentous duties. In April. 1775, as a representative from Suffolk, he appeared in the Convention held in the city of New-York, to choose dele- gates to the Continental Congress ; and in May of the same year, he took part in the proceedings of the Provincial Congress, in that city, which, in effect, threw off the regal yoke and as- serted its independence. In August, 1775, the militia of Suffolk and aueens, under the direction of the Provincial Congress, were organized into one brigade, under the charge of General Woodhull, On the 28th of August, 1775, he was elected President of the Provincial Congress, and re-elected the following year. Thus, twice was the Commonwealth, in its collected wisdom, compelled to resort to the presiding judgment of this great ci- vilian. But disastrous times were coming, for the infant nation stiuggling in its cradle. Lord Howe, with those death-bear- ing fleets which have looked into every harbor of the world, at last reached our shores ; and those dark hulks, swarming with an invading army, and bristling with cannon, were hovering around these sister Islands, which have mingled their fortunes kindly together during our entire history. Uncertain where the blow would fall, the trembling colonies at length saw him descend on Long Island, at Bath, then Fort Utrecht. To Gen. Woodhull, with a handful of men, was assigned the duty of cutting off the sources of sustenance from the reach of the invaders ; a duty he performed with great labor and sig- nal success. A majority of the inhabitants of Q,ueens county still clung to the sceptre. With Royalism at home, and in the face of overwhelming numbers of an enemy, well disciplined and abundantly provided with all the munitions of war, it was no easy task to rouse and combine the militia of the Island. With less than a hundred men, the Commander stood within reach of large detachments from the main body of the foe. Remsen's and Smith's regiments were ordered to join him, but they did not come. In obedience to his orders, and in the constant expectation of receiving these reinforce- ments, he remained less than six miles distant from the English camp, and their light-horse sweeping within two miles of his position. A strict disciplinarian, he obeyed superior commands. But his few soldiers had left their wives and children unpro- tected at home, and anxious hearts were beating in their bo- soms. Was it strange that this mimic army dwindled away ? Then came the disastrous battle of Long Island, in which the American army, with frightful loss, was driven to its en- trenchments. It was the saddest day in the records of our 8. country. It was the first great reverse in the history of our arms. The standard of the Repubhc was trailed in blood and defeat. The terrible odds of British numbers, completely arm- ed and thoroughly disciplined, prevailed over the raw, untrain- ed levies of Long Island, wasted by disease, and inefficient through want of arms. General Green, who had been charged with the prepara- tion, and had reconnoitered, and was familiar with the locali- ties, was prostrated by sudden illness, and, when most urgent- ly required, his services were lost to the American cause. That day, three thousand pillars were torn away, by sacri- legious hands, from the Temple of Liberty. History has pro- nounced it a Vandal work. The day went down in blood and gloom ; and, while terror reigned in the American camp, the Gowanus was silently telling its ensanguined story to the sea. A day of determination followed ; and the earliest mounting sunbeams of the next morning struck the last barge of the homely fleet that bore, into security, the retiring patriots. The sun rose on the American army, safe on the island of Man- hattan, a7id Washington hiTnself stood in the midst of them. A greater than Xenophon had covered the retreat of the " Ten Thousand," and the Republic was saved. But General Woodhull, cut off in the position he was or- dered to maintain, from the soldiers of Congress, unaided, alone, fell into British power. Upon being commanded to say " God save the King,''^ he firmly refused, but replied with the nobler sentiment, " God save us alV^ His refusal to comply, brought upon him the savage violence of his captors. But, though defenceless, assaulted with the sword, severely wound- ed in the head, and with an arm mangled and bleeding, " God save us all,^^ was the only benediction that could be hacked from his lips. While he would acknowledge no kingly mono- poly of the blessing of God, he would recognize no kingly ex- clusion, even of an enemy — " God save us all" king and subject, friend and foe, the victor and the vanquished, the pri- soner and the free, the living and the dead. " God save us all." Here was a breadth of philanthropy which knew no exception. Here was the teaching of our Savior carried into practice. Here was the mingling of courage, patriotism and religion. While he invoked the Divine blessing upon all, he would admit neither exclusion nor exclusive right — a sublime spectacle ! He would not yield the sentiment ; he would sooner yield his life. At the risk of death he clung to his faith, and gave up his life for a deathless principle. Mortally wounded — thrown with eighty of his countrymen into one of those terrible prison ships, where the well grew sick, and the sick died, he calmly awaited the hour of death. At last, some sur- geon or other told him that this hacked arm must be cut off, — that arm which he had so often raised in debate, and in bat- tle for his country. Before the amputation, he sent for his wife, with a request that she should bring with her all the money she had, and all she could get. The dying man dis- tributed his beneficence among his fellow-sufferers, embraced his wife, uttered a prayer for his country, and died. He re- ceived his mortal wound in an act of patriotism, and breathed his last breath in an act of charity. His death was in keeping with his hfe. He who would die for a principle, might be expected to use his last hour in the cause of humanity. " God save us all," — a motto by which it was religious to live, and glorious to die. But his mission on earth was not yet ended. Though dead, he had not yet finished his service to his country. He was a tower of strength to the patriotic cause, even in his grave. The barbarity of his death brought converts and recruits to the American arms. Major Crew, of the British army, threw up his commission in disgust. Indignation mingled with love of country, in the breasts of the American troops. The lukewarm were animated, the doubtful confirmed, the true man fired with new ardor. He who was no longer alive to guard and to di- rect, was, from his resting place, summoning strength to the American cause. The prayer — " God save us all" — seemed to issue from his tomb, and inspire with new ardor the faithful and the brave. Let not his voice yet cease. Let him still speak to us from the spirit-land. Let him from this majestic tower proclaim to all posterity that sentiment of universal love — " God save us all." Let it be inscribed in imperishable 10 characters upon the hardest rock of his monument, that it may- meet the eye, and fill the ear of the world — " God save us all." The year that witnessed the martyrdom of Woodhull, was the most hopeless period of the war. The hopes of freemen, by an unbroken series of successes, had been raised to exalta- tion to be dashed the lower. The intellectual contest, which had existed for ten years, between the English Government and her Colonies, was appealed, in 1775. from the tribunal of debate to that of arms. A few provincials at Concord, fired the great magazine of American patriotism. The flames flew from Massachusetts to New-York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, and South Carolina. All classes, and each sex, partook the general enthusiasm. Even the " Old Men's Company" of Dutchmen, with their centennial captain and emblems of crape, tottered into action. Every where (except under the massive walls of Gluebec), at Lexington, at Ticon- deroga, at Crown Point, at Skeenesborough, at Bunker Hill, at Great Bridge, at Fort Saint John, our banner waved in tri- umph. The year 1776 came upon England, fairly beaten. She could not, with her own forces alone, maintain the contest. She was driven to supplicate for aid at the feet of other thrones. She offered to pour her gold into the frozen lap of Russia, and besought the Empress Catherine for twenty thou- sand of those troops who had won renown in Turkish war, that she might launch them on American shores. But from amidst the dazzling icebergs, came the voice of stern refusal. She then prostrated herself before the United Provinces, but the Dutch gave her a humihating denial. At last she was successful in her search for mercenary warriors, with the Houses of Hesse and Brunswick. Then was displayed the grandeur of the American pa- triots. Troubles came thick and fast upon them. The failure of the Canadian expedition, the defeat on Long Island, the death of Woodhull, the occupation of New- York by British troops, the reduction of Fort Washington, the surrender of Fort Lee, the capture of General Lee, the disasters on Lake Champlain, the retaking of Crown Point and the overrunning 11 lofNew Jersey, had dispirited the nation. England, Ireland, Hesse, Brunswick and Waldeck poured their equipped and disciplined swarms over the land. The American army, un- paid, unprovided, reduced, fragmented — a mere phantom — was falling back from one position to another, as the haughty foe advanced over American soil. This was a time when the ^' blackness of darkness" hung over the prospects of patriot- ism. But Congress anchored a sublime faith in the justice of their cause. Despair was a word unknown. All looked up to George Washington with confidence and hope. Extraordi- nary powers were conferred npon him ; and, suddenly, on Christmas night, through the ice of the Delaware and amidst the snows of Trenton, the American army, with their great leader at their head, plunged into the astonished camp of the invaders and wrested victory from their grasp. Since the time I have spoken of, the Genius of Progress, that kindred spirit of Liberty, has looked kindly npon us. Propi- tious peace has filled the land with plenty. Three millions of people have become twenty millions. The feeble infant has grown to gianthood. Our long line of coast is now protected by walls of men. In our far-stretching harbors, then stran- gers to all but threatening keels, ten thousand vessels, " with their wavering shadows, are riding at anchor." Our com- merce, then unknown, now covers the seas, and pervades the lands. Our rapid rivers, and our ocean-lakes, that rippled only to the glancing oar, now part and groan beneath their myriad argosies. Our form of Government has become the model by which the gray dynasties of Europe are fashioning themselves. Our stalwart borderers have hewn their way through the majestic forest, surmounted the rocky barriers, and paused only at the Pacific surge. The track of the moccason is under the setting sun. The plough turns up the rusty tomahawk, and the ox treads on the fields of the slain. Cities and villages, with golden vales and smiling hills between — nature's rich mosaic — gem the broad continent, and sparkle in the sun. The clank of enginery, in place of the cannon's crash, now vibrates through the land. On the track where the American army might have been traced by the blood of their unshod 12 feet, the self-propelling steed of steam now foams and tramps upon his iron path. Our thoughts are carried on the light- ning's wing. We have given cordial welcome to the oppressed. We have secured a free press, free speech, free conscience. Our scholars have gathered the knowledge of the past, and spread new fields of learning to the eye. Science has opened her ex- haustless armory and bid us enter and choose. We have wooed and won the arts. We have dotted the land with schools, and filled it with temples to the living God. For these, our Fathers fought. For these, they resisted British power — endured cold, heat, hunger, privation, peril, wounds, captivity and death. Can we think of them too often or too much ? Can we too frequently recount their deeds, or hymn their praises on too many harps ? Let us watch, the rather, that we do not " steep our senses in forgetfulness," nor let the dews of Lethe fall on our memories. Monarchists have said, that " Republics are ungrateful." The saying has gone into the royalist creed. It is of the pro- verbs of Crowns. Many instances may be selected, in all countries and forms of government, where the bestowments of reward have not come up to the requirements of merit. But this is not peculiarly so with Republics. A young and chivalric Frenchman left his wealth, his friends, his country, and enrolled himself under the American banner. Bravely he went through the Revolution in devotion to Freedom. The Republic gave him a million of francs, and wide tracts of its domains. When, many years after, he in- dicated an intention to revisit the scenes of his valor, the en- tire nation, by their representatives in Congress assembled^ requested the President to communicate to Major General the Marquis La Fayette, the assurance of grateful and affectionate attachment still cherished for him by the government and people of the United States. They also directed that a Na- tional vessel should be sent to bring him to the country. When he came, the American people rose to do him honor, and thronged to press his hand. His progress was a continu- 13 ous triumph. He became the guest of America. When it was known that he was dead, the government went into mourning, and the people, every where, mingled their tears with the Republicans of France. Another illustration : — The Republic devoted two millions of acres to the brave soldiers of the Revolution, and their heirs. For thirty years she has rewarded her surviving defenders with liberal pensions. For this purpose, many millions have gone from the public treasury. The benefits of this, continue to be reaped by thousands at the present day. Pensions, it is true, have not been poured with lavish hands into the laps of favorites, swelling a few enormous fortunes, and helping to roll up, high, heavy, and dreary, a national debt, to beggar posterity, and crush the life from coming generations. To do justice, the Republic has not done injustice. She has not done good by evil means. She has not seized what she had no right to seize, the labor, the hope, the happiness of posterity. But such as she might do, she has done. Such as she might rightfully give, she has given. She has not bequeathed the property of others. But what was hers to bestow — the re- sources she could command, and the treasures of the hearts of her people — these she has freely given. Let us add another refutation to this slander upon free go- vernments. Let us adduce another proof to the world that the memory of our Republic is not short — that her heart is not cold — that eternal verdure covers the tombs of her great and her good men, and undimmed love and veneration settle on their names. There have come down to us, from earlier time, stupen- dous monuments, whose origin is lost in their antiquity. But by the best conjectures of history, they were extorted from the labor of subjugated peoples to deify their tyrants' names. The labor of successive generations must have been wrung out to build these heaven-kissing piles. How many sighs and tears and groans were mir)gled with the uprearing structures, and buried under their Gibraltar weight, we cannot tell. But not of such is the pillar whose summit we propose to raise in- to the sky. For this purpose, no throned monarch commands 14 the muscles of an unwilling people. No merciless taskmaster enforces reluctant obedience to his commands. No tribute is wrung from the happiness of the present generation, to com- mand the admiration of the next, or to memorize a name, known only by those deeds " which may define a tyrant."' But it is a willing, a voluntary, a spontaneous creation. It is a free-will offering of an unforgetting people. By their sover- eign will it rises ; upon their willing gratitude it stands. And far m&re certain is it to carry down, associated with it while it may remain, the name of him whose character it illustrates, than were those forced productions of the past, whose builders' names the world has " willingly let die." It is good to see the blended thankfulness, admiration and gratitude of a great people, embody itself in columnal stone. Let them take this stately form, as enduring as the primal hill on which it is to stand. It shall rise upon the brow of the continent, the first object to greet the sight of the tired mariner as he approaches America, the last to linger on his gaze, as he recedes from the occidental world. The fleets of all nations, converging to this ample harbor, shall be guided in their com- ing by this monumental tribute, erected by our country to her early and venerated martyr. The civilization and humanity of jthe age are better represented by this monument to the dead, than by the most profuse praises of the living. It is not a silent column — an unsuggestive tower. It speaks. It car- ries ideas to the mind of the beholder, as forcibly as if it pro- claimed them from its mouth of rock, in thunderous and articulate sounds. It rouses the intellect, captivates the im- agination, and thrills the heart. On beholding it, the history of the Revolution — the deeds of our fathers — their hard-won triumphs — the incidents in the life of him whose name this monument embalms, all throng upon us and press for utterance. It shall look out upon the blue waters that roll beneath it, and beckon hither those who fly from the persecutions and oppres- sions of agitated Europe. Those who shall escape from the cruelties of the old world, to the hospitalities of the new, may first rest their weary gaze upon this lasting memento to one, whose efforts and life were 15 devoted to making his land the asyhim for all. It shall stand, the granite Emblem of American Gratitude — the testimonial of great deeds, justly appreciated — itself a high reward, and pointing' to a higher. It shall summon the noblest aspirations of American youth. It shall stir the desire in the breast of every American to deserve well of his country ; not till need be, in lurid war, for the days of peace are on us, God grant, long to remain ; but in the domains of the useful and the good. It shall remain near the spot where he, whose name it conse- crates, received his mortal wound, borne by the Earth, through all her circling orbit. It shall stand, sustaining, midway, the chain of patriotic feeling which stretches from the summit of the monument of Washington to that of Bunker Hill. Let it stand through the ages, an eternal beacon on the gaze of mil- lions. " Sublimely mingling with the skies, Let the proud cenotaph arise." A few words should be devoted to a description of the Monument itself Its site is conspicuous and appropriate — an elevated bluff, singularly fortunate for the boundless and mag- nificent amphitheatre which extends beneath. The unaided eye takes in a large part of these twin Islands, with New Jer- sey and the ocean. The frowning Palisades, New- York, Wil- liamsburgh, Jamaica, Rockaway, Neversink, the Narrows, and an unobstructed semicircle of land and sea, lie under the view. The unresting Atlantic spreads itself before it, and, at times, a hundred ships sail on the view. Perhaps no other place on the continent could be selected, where a lofty Monument would be seen by so many Americans and foreigners approach- ing the country. The hill where the Monument is to stand, is the very ground General Woodhull was commissioned by the Convention of New York to defend against the public enemy ; and here he took his stand. It also overlooks the scene hallowed by his martyrdom to the holy cause of Liberty. On the morning of the day he fell, he rode over this range of hills to stem the tide of desolation that swept down Long Island, after the disastrous battle on the Heights of Brooklyn. A more 16 appropriate scene for his triumphj in all coming time, could not be chosen, than the scene of his heroism, his suffering, and his death. It is to emerge from the Cemetery of the Cypress Hills — the crowning feature of this new NecropoHs. It will stand within the gates through which mortality passes to immor- tality. To these hallowed mounts will come a hundred generations, and trace the records of their ancestral dust. The living will visit these chambers of the dead, and think of life, of death, and of the life to come. There is no spot of earth where the soul is so spiritualized as amid these sanctuaries of the dead. It seems a iiear approach to a communion with the departed — almost a salutation from the better land. Here the lium of business does not come, the cares of life do not invade. Here the soul escapes from the frivolities of her temporal state, and gains some cheering foretaste of a spiritual life. Here we draw aside the cloud-curtains which bound our view, and gaze into the pearl-gates of a higher world. From hence we go better than we come, impressed with holier feelings, and readier for all that is to come. A design has been adopted — economical, commodious, and permanent. One room is given to Columbus, and illustrations of his discoveries ; one to the Pilgrims, and their landing ; another to the Cavaliers of Virginia, a fourth to the scholars of America, a fifth to the Patriots and Heroes of the Revolution, and the wheeling dome of its summit to the Heavens. The work will become a National Monument — a great treasure- house of Patriotism, Science and History. Within its walls may be clustered the choicest gems of art, and the most valua- ble illustrations of our history — of the three great classes of men who have made up our nation, the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock, the Cavaliers of James River, and the Dutch of New Amsterdam and Long Island. While this grand column will be reared to transmit forever the memory of the heroic virtues of one of the best and purest men of our Revolution, it will be stripped of the insignificance and ungenerousness of a sec- tional spirit. We wish to raise a National Memorial, in which every American, from whatever quarter of this wide land he 17 may come, shall recognize a grateful tribute to all that was pure, and lofty, and brave, in those dark days of our history, when patriotic men, in the midst of the sternest struggles, were laying broad and deep the foundations of our national glory. We should hope, that around such a rallying spot, where every American will feel at home, all the patriotic sentiment and enthusiasm of the nation would centre and cling, — that in these stately halls, which will be forever thrown open to the American people, there shall be preserved trophies from every field of victory, and emblems of progress from every re- gion of science, — that here may be deposited for coming genera, tions our historic archives, which from time to time are being consumed by the wasting fires that desolate our large towns, — that, on great anniversary days. Historical, Scientific, Patriotic, Benevolent, and National societies, may come to hold their fes- tivals ; where the sons of the Puritans, the Cavaliers, and the Knickerbockers, now scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific, may assemble and greet each other as brothers. We hope, that from the sky-reaching top of this monument, some Ameri- can astronomers may yet pierce the hitherto undivided nebulae of unexplored constellations, and call new stars by A7nerlcan names, — that they may boldly handle the glittering sword of Orion, and restore the lost Pleiad to the field of stars. We hope that the time may never come, when this Observatory shall be required for purposes of defence — when these revolv- ing tubes of sight, as they point over the boundless hills where continent and empire begin, shall reveal the track of an in- vading foe ; or when from this aerial out-look, any hostile fleet may come within the range of telescopic vision. Let its far-reaching lenses only sweep the emerald ocean, to tell us what friendly barks, freighted with the wealth of the old world, or bringing news of its fortunes, are coming to our shores. Peace, then, be to your ashes, Fathers of the Republic. Your struggles are over, your sufferings are ended, your victory is won. Your dreams are no longer broken by the bugle-blast calling you to arms. The tears of loved ones 2 18 are no longer falling on your bosoms in the hour of sepa- ration and of death. From the battle-shock, from the charge of the foeman, from the disasters of defeat, and the shouts of victory, you have passed to your reward. For half a century your names have stirred the heroism of the world, and your battle-fields have become the Thermopylses of Liberty. Poets have borrowed inspiration from your deeds, and orators em- balmed your names in eloquence. Statesmen are proud to utter the words that fell from your lips, and historians have reveled in your glories. While the poet who can call the muses from Olympus is writing his epic, and across the page of the historian the flash of your chivalry is gleaming — we will perform our duty in an humbler sphere, by writing your history in rock. WOODHULL MONUMENT ASSOCIATION. WM.: I "V"l -1 1 1' w 1 y w^ y j m ? I' Mil r'"' ,'1.- OEIGm AND OEGAMZATION WOODHULL MONUMENT ASSOCIATION. A NUMBER of the citizens of Long Island, believing that the time had come, when some lofty and enduring monument should be raised to the memory of the heroic Woodhull on the soil where he bled and died, issued a call for a General Meet- ing, on Wednesday evening (Sept. 6th), at the Brooklyn In- stitute. At the time appointed a large number of patriotic and pub- lic-spirited individuals assembled. Col. Alden Spooner was called to the chair, and S. G. Arnold appointed secretary. After several eloquent addresses had been delivered, a committee was chosen to draft resolutions and report business. The following was their Report : — 1. Resolved, That the time has come, when some suit- able monument should be erected to the memory of General Nathaniel Woodhull, the Patriot and Hero, who fell a martyr to the cause of American Independence, in the bloody struggle of the Revolution. 2. Resolved, That it is not only a duty, but a privilege, for us who enjoy the fruits of the heroism and love of country which distinguished our Revolutionary Fathers, to unite in so solemn and affecting a tribute to their memory ; and that we 24 will aid in the consummation of so noble an undertaking as the erection of a monument to General Woodhull. 3. Resolved, That since the Trustees of the Cypress Hills Cemetery have offered the ground and volunteered their aid in carrying out our design, we commend the enterprise to the public, and request all our fellow-citizens to lend it their aid and encouragement. 4. Resolved, That the following persons be appointed a Board of Trustees to act for this Association : Gen. Jeremiah Johnson, Brooklyn. Col. Alden Spooner, do. Hon. Sidney Smith, Brookhaven. James Humphrey, Esq., Brooklyn. Hon. John A. King, Jamaica. Hon. Selah B. Strong, Brookhaven. Hon. Churchill C. Cambreling, Huntington. Benjamin F. Thompson, Esq., Hemstead. Hon. Dr. S. H, Lord, Greenport, Suffolk Co. Hon. Abram T. Rose, Sag-Harbor. Dr. John R. Rhinelander, Huntington. Samuel S. Gardiner, Esq., Shelter Island. Hon. Wm. T. McCoun, Oyster Bay. Henry W. Titus, Esq., Bellport, Suffolk Co. Hon. Henry Nickoll, New- York. . Hon. John L. Lawrence, Flushing. Salmon Skinner, M. D., Brooklyn. Hon. Caleb S. Woodhull, New- York. Abijah P. Cummings, Williamsburg. Charles Miller, M. D. do. Albert Woodhull, Esq., New- York. C. Edwards Lester, Esq., Brooklyn. At' a subsequent meeting the following gentlemen were added to the Board of Trustees : Hon. Henry C. Murphey, Brooklyn. Capt. J. Sands, U. S. N., do. Capt. W. L. Hudson, U. S. N., do. Adriance Yan Brunt Esq., do. Col. Samuel Hunting, Sag Harbor. 25 Dr. Abel Huntington, East Hampton. Gen. Allan McDonald, Flushing. George S. Phillips, Esq., Smithtown. Harvey Vail, Esq., Islip. Albert Carll, Esq., Jericho. Rev. John Goldsmith, Newtown. Gen. John R. Satterly, Setauket. 5. Resolved^ That this Board of Trustees be clothed with the following powers : To elect their own officers ; to solicit subscriptions throughout the Island and in other places ; and, in consultation with the relatives and friends of Gen. Woodhull ' and the Trustees of the Cypress Hills Cemetery, to erect his monument as soon as practicable. In all their meetings, five shall constitute a quorum, and the Board may add to their number. 6. Resolved, That the Board be requested to proceed in this business, and finish it as soon as circumstances will permit ; to devise means by which, at least, all the inhabitants of Long Island may have an opportunity of uniting in the en- terprise, and to adopt all other measures which a vigorous prosecution of the undertaking may suggest. We also request the Board, in settling upon a design for this monument and its materials, to have an idea to strength, grandeur, simplicity and perpetuity, rather than to artistic beauty, or complicated design ; believing that such a structure will be much less expensive in execution, require less time for completion, and correspond bet- ter with the character of the heroic man to whose memory it will be raised. 7. Resolved, That all Clergymen, of every name and de- nomination on the Island, be respectfully requested, at such times and in such ways as they shall deem-best, to bring this matter before the churches and congregations under their charge, and solicit their aid. We also request all our corpora- tions, benevolent and humane societies, magistrates and citi- zens, to extend to the Trustees their sanction, encouragement and help. And finally, in the name of our gallant and patri- otic Woodhull, we invite all the inhabitants of Long Island and 26 its vicinity, to unite with us in building a monument to our Revolutionary Sage and Hero, which shall perpetuate to all coming times his memorable virtues, and the gratitude of the present generation. Clothed with these ample prerogatives, the General Board of Trustees, at an early meeting, after an interesting discussion, proceeded to the election of officers of the Association. Gen. Jeremiah Johnson was, by a unanimous ballot, elected Presi- dent and Treasurer; Col. Alden Spooner, Secretary. The following Resolutions were adopted with unanimity ; 1. Resolved, That a special Executive Committee, of seven persons, be appointed to carry out the objects of this Association, under the inspection of the Board of Trustees, and report at every meeting, — (the meetings of the General Board are held on the 1st Tuesday of every month,) — That this committee shall confer with the Trustees of the Cypress Hills Cemetery about the ground for the monument, appoint agencies, and make arrangements for collecting subscriptions and raising moneys, and erect the monument as soon as prac- ticable. 2. Resolved. That all moneys'collected, shall be paid forth- with into the hands of the Treasurer, who shall at once deposit the same in such bank or banks as the Trustees shall desig- nate; and that no larger sum than three thousand dollars shall remain deposited at one time in any one bank. 3. Resolved, That no moneys shall be drawn for any pur- pose, except by vote of the Trustees, and the signatures of the President and Secretary. 4. Resolved, That the Treasurer shall present his bank book and bank account at every meeting. The following gentlemen were then unanimously chosen the executive committee of the Board of Trustees : — General Jeremiah Johnson, Brooklyn ; Hon. John A. King, Jamaica ; Hon. Caleb S. Woodhull, New- York ; Hon. John L. Lawrence ; Col. Alden Spooner, Brooklyn ; Benjamin F. Thompson, Hempstead ; C. Edwards Lester, Brooklyn. 27 -^ 5. Resolved^ That the design for a monument, drawn by Dr. H. Stone, and submitted to this meeting by Mr. Lester, be adopted and executed. The Executive Committee, conscious of the great respon- sibilities of so high a trust as the one confided to them, ac- cepted it with the cheering belief that they would meet with the warm encouragement and efficient aid of their fellow- citizens, in the accomplishment of this patriotic design ; and they are happy to announce, that thus far not an individual has been appealed to, who has not voluntarily ofiered his aid to the Association. Inspired by the belief, that every obstacle to the rapid and triumphant completion of this monument will give way to earnest and generous efforts, the Committee at their meetings, after long and careful consideration, have re- solved, — That they would raise not less than fifty thousand dollars for the Monument to General Woodhull, and endeavor with this sum to carry it up 300 feet high, and complete it during the year 1849. It is believed that a few words of explanation will convince the public that the best plan has not only been chosen for the Monument, but the best place selected for its erection. The place. Through the centre of Cypress Hills Cemetery runs a high range of hills, which commands an extensive and beautiful view of the Atlantic Ocean, Long Island with its cities and towns, Sandy Hook, Neversink, and a wide sweep over New Jersey, New- York city, with the picturesque wa- ters and Islands of the Bay, the North and East Rivers and the Sound, with the Palisades in the back-ground on the north. There is hardly another spot on our coast which em- braces so broad and magnificent a view. The Trustees of the Cypress Hills Cemetery have gratui- tously devoted an acre of ground (selected by the Executive Committee) to this object, and given the stone for its erection ; which will probably diminish by one half the cost. Thus with the same sum of money a Monument of nearly twice the height can be built. Thus, however desirous the friends of 28 this new Cemetery may be to embellish the beautiful spot they have consecrated to the final repose of the dead, (and we know of no desire more laudable,) the Executive Committee con- gratulate themselves that such extraordinary facilities have thus been put into their hands for the accomplishment of a national and patriotic design. DESCRIPTION OP THE MONUMENT. Style — A Feudal Tower of the middle ages — square — same size all the way up, till the flanking towers are reached, which project two feet on every side. Dimensions — 40 Feet square — 300 feet high — with six rooms, each 50 feet high. 1. Room of Columbus, with a single niche,