E 310 ! .Y85 h. »y^i^*^^* ^^ \^/ ^^' \ -yaw 1.^ %■ ■ ,-t°x. ^'I'f' '^ V .^i.'^'-v "<^ ^0' ^IV^' > V ^o. ^^0^ o ^H^ ,'^Trr.''/ <^^,'^?^\/ "^.'^-'y . %' 'V.-i* * iWOUNGMlON Publishers' Notice. THAT a Young Nation, like most young people, must meet unexpected difficulties, and must bravely struggle for success, is shown in this Seventh Volume of American History, reprinted from The Youth's Companion. The beginnings of significant American institu- tions and enterprises are here described in the graphic and interesting style which is characteristic of The Youth's Companion throughout the many departments of that great family paper. This book is Volume Forty of The Companion Library, a collection of stories, travel sketches and descriptive articles by some of the best writers and artists for The Youth's Companion. All the volumes above twenty are printed from the same size of type as that used in this book. The first twenty volumes are printed from the same size as this notice. The Companion Classics are monographs by eminent states- men and authors of high repute on subjects of extraordinary interest. They contain from thirty to forty pages, printed on heavy paper from type the size of that used in this paragraph. The Young Nation American History VII. The Companion Library. Number Forty. SELECTIONS From The Youth's Companion. CONTENTS. Page THE CONSTITUTION Edward Stanwood 3 THE STARS AND STRIPES .... A. Y. Leech 8 EARLY ELECTIONS James Parton 13 THE "CONSTELLATION" . . . . Charles L. Norton 22 THE EARLY POST=OFFICE .... W.L.Wilson 30 THE FIRST CANAL C. G. Burnham 36 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS . . . Grace King 42 THE FIRST STEAMBOAT . . . Eugene T. Chamberlain 58 Copyright 1912. Perry Mason Company, Boston, Mass. gCl.A316938 THE CONSTITUTION. MR. GLADSTONE has called the Consti- tution of the United States *'the most wonderful work ever struck off at a given time by the brain and purpose of man." The idea of a Continental Conference was first suggested by Thomas Paine, but the result of that convention was far different and far superior to anything he proposed. The immediate causes that led to the con- vention were the failure of the Articles of Confed- eration to secure respect at home and abroad, and the inability of Congress to collect taxes on the public debt, or to prevent disorders in the different states. But surprising as It may now seem, great opposition was made to the convention, espe- cially by the governors of the large states, Virginia, New York and Massachusetts, who were as great In the opinion of their own people as the President of the United States is to us now, and those states were unwilling to give up their sovereign power and become only a thirteenth of the republic. THE CONSTITUTION. The delegates were commissioned to propose amendments to the Articles of Confederation, but by the sagacity of the leaders, chief of whom was Alexander Hamilton, they were persuaded to do more, and posterity blesses them for doing it. The convention, numbering at first fifty-eight members, sat from the 25th of May to the 17th of September, 1787, in a room in the Old State House in Philadelphia, which may still be visited. An abler body of statesmen has per- haps never assembled, and they labored with intense and anxious con- centration of effort for nearly four months. Yet the result of their exertions was a docu- ment of short and easy paragraphs that could be slowly read in less than an hour. It is so brief and so simple that some may very naturally won- der why it should have been so difficult to make. But consider the knotty questions involved in each of those quiet, simple little sentences. The first section of the first article settled one of the most perplexing of them all, by ordaining that Congress should consist of two houses. THOMAS PAINE. THE CONSTITUTION. The convention had to weigh the probable consequences of entrusting all the lawmaking power to a single house. The short paragraph which settled it in the United States for a century contains the result of countless hours of study, reflection and discussion. Then, again, there was the question, so im- portant to Rhode Island, New Jersey and Dela- ware, How shall the smaller states be protected THE OLD STATE HOUSE, PHILADELPHIA. against the superior power and wealth of the larger? In the Continental Congress they had voted by states, a system which had made Delaware's vote of equal weight with that of Virginia, a concession felt by the larger states to be unjust, unwise, and not to be endured. THE CONSTITUTION. On this rock the convention nearly went to pieces, and it was only after some weeks of most anxious, and we may truly say agonizing discussion, that the convention reached the expedient of having the states equally repre- sented in the Senate, but represented according to population in the House. A fearfully difficult matter to arrange grew out of slavery. No one was willing to have the odious word slave, or any of its derivatives, in the Constitution of a country claiming to be, and meaning to be, the freest under the sun. But the slaves existed ; there were supposed to be a million of them. They were an element of power, and in some of the Southern States they were too important not to be considered in the conditions of union. South Carolina, with her slaves counted out, would have been so insignificant a member of the Union that she never could have willingly joined it with that proviso. On the other hand, how could the ALEXANDER HAMILTON. THE CONSTITUTION. free states concede to the slave states an added weight in the Union proportioned to the number of their slaves, and this without so much as using the offensive and incongruous word ? At the same time the Northern States, where slaves were few, — for there was hardly a state in which there were not some slaves, — were compensated by adding to the word "representatives" the words " and direct taxes." The South was to have its slaves counted in making up the representation of each state, but it must also pay for them. This was the hardest problem the convention had to solve, and they solved it in the way which, upon the whole, was best for the time. The dreadful word was not employed. The slaves came in at the end of an enumeration as "three-fifths of all other persons" — a dainty device worthy of Doctor Franklin. Edward Stan wood. ENJAMIN FRANKLIN. THE STARS AND STRIPES. THE first national legislation on the flag bears the date June 14, 1777, when Congress, in session at Philadelphia, adopted the following : "Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue fi-eld, representing a new constellation." This was about one year subsequent to the Declaration of I ndependence. Prior to that time colonial flags, and those improvised by the parties using them, were publicly displayed as occasion demanded, but these were in no sense the "national standard." The thirteen stripes had been introduced, in alternate white and blue, on the upper left- hand corner of a standard presented to the Philadelphia Light Horse Company by its captain in the early part of 1775. Moreover, the flag of the thirteen united colonies raised at Washington's headquarters at Cambridge, January 2, 1776, had the thirteen stripes just as they are this day; but it also had the cross THE STARS AND STRIPES. of St. George and St. Andrew on a blue ground in the corner. There is no satisfactory evidence, however, that any flag bearing the union of the stars had been in public use before the resolution of June, 1777, though the stars and stripes on the shield of the Washington coat of arms had been known to many Americans. It has been impossible to decide with certainty who designed the Amer- ican flag as first adopted by Congress, but the best recorded evidence gives part of the credit of designing it and all the credit of making it to Mrs. John Ross, who lived in Philadelphia. Her descendants assert that a committee of Congress, accompanied by General Washington, called upon Mrs. Ross in June, 1776, and engaged her to make the flag from a rough drawing. This drawing was, at her suggestion, redrawn by General Washing- ton with pencil, in her back parlor, and the flag thus designed was adopted by Congress. Although the resolution establishing the flag 10 THE STARS AND STRIPES. was not officially promulgated by the Secretary of Congress until September 3, 1777, it seems well authenticated that the regulation Stars and Stripes was carried at the Battle of the Brandy wine, September 11, 1777, and thence- forward during the battles of the Revolution. No further action relative to the flag was taken by Congress until after Vermont and Kentucky were admitted to the Union. Then, on January 13, 1 794, Congress enacted : ''That the flag of the United States be fifteen stripes, alternate red and white ; that the union be THE WASHINGTON fiftcen stars, white in a blue field." SHIELD. • n • 1 This flag was the national banner from 1795 to 18 18, during which period occurred the war of 181 2 with Great Britain. But soon five additional states — Tennessee, Ohio, Louisiana, Indiana and Mississippi — were admitted to the Union and required repre- sentation on the flag. So Congress, on April 4, 1 8 18, enacted: First. ''That the flag of the United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and white; that the union have twenty stars, white in a blue field." THE STARS AND STRIPES. 11 THE STARS AND STRIPES, JANUA.VV . 1794- Second. "That on the admission of every new state into the Union one star be added to the union of the flag, and that such addition shall take effect ? on the Fourth of July next succeeding such admission." The debate in Congress shows that the return to the thirteen stripes of the 1777 flag was due, in a measure, to a reverence for the standard of the Revolution ; but it was also due to the fact that a further increase of the number of stripes would make the width of the flag out JUNE 1^ mi 12 THE STARS AND STRIPES. of proportion to its length unless the stripes were narrowed, and this would have made it hard to see them at a distance. No act has since been passed by Congress altering this feature of the flag, and the standard is the same as originally adopted, except as to the number of stars in its union. Although the design for the United States flag was so purely American, the material for it still came from England. No American bunting was found sufficiently strong and durable in color to stand wind and weather until after our Civil War, when Gen. B. F. Butler requested the Secretary of the Navy to test the bunting made in Lowell, Massachusetts. A test was accordingly ordered, and this bunting was found superior to foreign fabric in quality and color endurance. The Lowell company presented a magnificent flag to the Senate of the United States, and this, the first United States flag made of United States bunting, was hoisted over the Senate Chamber at Washington on February 24, 1866. Ever since then the bunting for the Stars and Stripes has been made in America. A. Y. Leech. EARLY ELECTIONS. CONGRESS did not learn of the acceptance of the new Constitution by a sufficient number of states until late in the summer of 1788, and did not name the day for the election of a President until the 13th of September. Three interesting days were then appointed. On the first Wednesday of January, 1789, the people were to elect Presidential electors ; on the first Wednesday of February, the electors of each state were to meet and choose a President and Vice-President; on the first Wednesday in March (which was the 4th), Congress was to meet in New York, count the electoral votes, and set the new government in motion. Out of the whole body of voters, it is ques- tionable if a hundred would have cast their votes against General Washington. As to the Vice- Presidency, nobody appears to have wanted the office very much. It was generally agreed that since Virginia was to give a President, Massachusetts ought to furnish the Vice-President. 14 EARLY ELECTIONS. The choice fell upon John Adams, just home from England and Holland, where he had served his country with great ability. If there had been any doubt about his elec- tion, that doubt was dispelled by General Washington, who caused it to be made known to some of the electors that he himself ap- proved and desired the election of John Adams. The elections duly occurred, and the elec- toral votes were forwarded in sealed packets to New York. But there was no quorum present of either House until the 6th of April, when there was a quorum of both Houses. The first business was to open the packets contain- ing the votes of the thirteen electoral colleges. For General Washington every elector had given his vote ; but Mr. Adams was elected to the Vice-Presidency only by a plurality of thirty- four in sixty-nine. When this great business had been done, and the result announced, Mr. Madison, a member of the House from Virginia, stood forth, and addressed the Senate in these words : ''Mr. President. I am directed by the House of Representatives to inform the Senate that the House have agreed that the notification of the election of the President and of the EARLY ELECTIONS. 15 Vice-President of the United States should be made by such persons, and in such manner, as the Senate shall be pleased to direct." He then withdrew, and the House returned to its own chamber. The Senate appointed Charles Thompson, the Secretary of the Conti- nental Congress, to pro- ceed to Mount Vernon and notify General Wash- ington of his election, and Mr. Sylvanus Bowen to go to Quincy and notify Mr. Adams. If we had been alive in 1792, when the second Presidential election took place, we should not have noticed any particular signs of a political con- test. There were no flags or banners flying in the breeze or hanging across the streets. There were no torchlight processions, no mass-meetings, and no fiery articles in the newspapers telling people how to vote. Indeed, there was no difference of opinion about the President. Even the few opponents of General Washington's administration desired GEORGE WASHINGTON. 16 EARLY ELECTIONS. him to be elected again. There was only one decided anti-Washington man in the country, and that was Washington himself, who con- sented to serve a second time because he loved his country better than himself, and preferred his duty to his pleasure. We might call this a Vice- Presidential elec- tion, because the only contest was who should be Vice-President, John Adams or George Clinton, Governor of New York. These men had strong partizans, and, in a quiet way, there was a great deal of electioneering, not so much among the people in general as among the leaders of the people, members of Congress, and others; for in those times ordinary people had not very much to do with managing politics, and were apt to vote as they were advised. Mr. Adams was supposed to have acquired in England a more favorable regard for mon- archy and its forms than was consistent with true republicanism, and to desire a strong federal government. George Clinton was regarded as a model of a plain and downright Republican, proud of his state, jealous of the rights of the states, and fully resolved against the slightest increase of power on the part of the general government. EARLY ELECTIONS. 17 H'amilton and his friends, who were then beginning to be called Federalists, were zealous and active for Mr. Adams. Jefferson and his friends, then first called Republicans (later the Democratic Party), threw the whole weight of their influence in favor of George Clinton. The election took place in November, 1792, and the electors met In their several states in the course of the follow- ing month. For General Wash- ington every electoral vote was cast, one hun- dred and thirty -two in number. For the Vice- Presidency, George Clin- ton received fifty votes, Mr. Adams seventy- seven, and so was elect- ed handsomely enough. On the approach of the third Presidential elec- tion Washington declined a reelection, and John Adams and Thomas Jefferson were quietly elect- ed respectively President and Vice-President. When Mr. Adams came to the Presidency in March, 1797, it seemed as if the United States would be obliged to go to war with France, JOHN ADAMS. EARLY ELECTIONS. unless the French government could be induced to put an end to the seizure of American vessels by French cruisers. Mr. Adams's first thought was to send as ambassador to France Vice-President Jefferson, who was highly esteemed in that country, and sympathized most warmly with its strug- gle for freedom. Mr. Jefferson declined. The people had elect- ed him to succeed to JEFFERSON S WRITING DESK. the Presidency in case of Mr. Adams's death, and he did not think him- self at liberty to leave the country during his term. Mr. Adams, too, upon reflection, was of the same opinion, so he sent an embassy of three distinguished men; but their efforts were a failure. Then preparations were made for war, which was never declared, although there were decisive naval battles. Mr. Adams had other troubles over the Alien Law, which gave the President authority to expel undesirable foreigners, and the Sedition Law, which repressed the publication of anything calculated to bring Congress or the President into disrepute. EARLY ELECTIONS. 19 When the year of the Presidential election came round again, Mr. Adams was nominated by the Federalists for reelection. Gen. C. C. Pinckney of South Carolina, a member of the late embassy to France, was their candidate for the Vice- Presidency. The Republicans again placed in nomination Jefferson and Burr. We have never had a Presidential election so ex- citing as this; and, after all, it was carried more by the dexterity of Aaron Burr in New York than through the force of conviction. By a series of most adroit measures, not dis- honorable, Aaron Burr succeeded in carrying the State of New York for the Republicans. The result was a disappointment to both parties, for there was a tie between Jefferson and Burr. The electoral votes were thus distributed: Jefferson, 73 ; Burr, 73 ; Adams, 65 ; C. C. Pinckney, 64; John Jay, i. Thus no President was chosen, since the law then gave the first office to the candidate having the greatest number of THOMAS JEFFERSON. 20 EARLY ELECTIONS. electoral votes, and the Vice- Presidency to him who had next to the highest number. It now devolved upon the House of Repre- sentatives to decide which of these two gentle- men should be the President. It is pleasing to know that the men most interested in this controversy all behaved honor- ably during this crisis. Mr. Adams sat quietly in the White House, and took no part in it. Colonel Burr refused to make any expression as he said " to counteract the wishes of the people." Mr. Jefferson said, " Elect Colonel Burr, if you please, and I will support his administration to the best of my ability." Happily, after many ballotings, and eight days of distressing suspense, Mr. Jefferson was elected to the Presidency, and Colonel Burr to the Vice- Presidency, in accordance with the wishes of a majority of the people. A few days after this event came the joyful news that a treaty of peace between France and the United States had been signed, which freed the new administration from an embarrass- ment that had troubled the whole administration of Mr. Adams. Early in the fourth year of the Presidency of Thomas Jefferson the time had come round EARLY ELECTIONS. 21 again to prepare for the Presidential election in November. At that period Presidents were not nominated by conventions of the people, but by caucuses of members of Congress. When the (Demo- cratic) Republican members met in caucus, every man was warmly in favor of nominating Mr. Jefferson for a second term. Aaron Burr was not mentioned nor thought of for reelection, but was passed over. The caucus nominated for the Vice-Presidency, in his stead, George Clinton, Governor of New York. The Federalists nominated as their candidate for the Presidency Charles Cotesworth Pinckney of South Carolina, and for the Vice- Presidency, Rufus King of New York. When they came to vote for President in 1804, Mr. Jefferson was reelected by a great majority. This was the just reward of wise and bold administration, honorable to the President who received it, as to the people who bestowed it. James Parton. THE ''CONSTELLATION." 'T'HE War for Independence was still a recent -■■ thing when French ships began plundering Yankee merchantmen on the high seas. War seemed unavoidable, and we had no navy to speak of. The frigate United States had been launched two months before; the Cofistitution (''Old Ironsides") was still on the stocks at Boston, when the Constellation was launched at Baltimore on September 7, 1797, She was the second formidable war-vessel of what was then the "new navy" to bear the flag of the young republic, and she was destined, with her sister frigates above named, to compel a decent measure of respect from the con- temptuous Europeans of that period. With all possible despatch she was fitted out with her thirty-eight guns. They were twenty- four-pounders, and redoubtable pieces in their day. She became the flag-ship of gallant Com- modore Truxtun, who had orders to fight any French armed vessels that he might encounter. War had not been declared formally, but in spite of all friendly protests French cruisers THE "CONSTELLATION." 23 continued to capture American merchantmen, until the remembrance of timely help during the Revolution was well-nigh forgotten in present wrath. Congress formally abrogated existing treaties, and a state of things very much like war was inaugurated. Commodore Truxtun, with his little West India squadron, did good preventive service for some months, without firing a shot, because he did not see an armed Frenchman. At last, on a beautiful February noon in 1799, just off the island of Nevis, the lookout reported a big ship in sight to the southward; and the Constellation, setting the Stars and Stripes, bore down toward her under all sail. She could reel off twelve knots an hour with a free wind, according to her log-book. The stranger set the tricolor of France, and fired a gun to windward as much as to say, ^'Tres-bien, monsieur, I understand that you object to our little capture of your merchant canaille. What are you going to do about it ? I'm all ready to fight, if you like." Commodore Truxtun merely nodded to his executive officer, Lieutenant Sterritt. ''Give her a good full, quartermaster," said Sterritt. "A good full, sir ! " answered the man at the 24 THE ''CONSTELLATION." wheel, and the gallant Constellation, with her yards straining at the braces and her crew at quarters, rapidly drew up within hailing distance. The stranger proved to be the frigate In- surgente, carrying forty guns and four hundred REDOUBTABLE I'lECES. and nine men, against the Constellatioji s thirty- eight guns and three hundred and nine men, a disparity in numbers of which the Yankee com- modore was well aware. " Commence firing ! " was the word on board the Constellation as soon as her broadside guns could be brought to bear; and the Frenchman THE "CONSTELLATION." 25 was nothing- loath to return the compliment. A huge mountain of white powder-smoke rose against the blue sky and rolled down to leeward. In the heat of the engagement, the foretop- mast of the Constellation was nearly shot away at the lower cap, and Midshipman David Porter, captain of the foretop, hailed the deck to have the lifts cast off, but the guns were thundering and everybody was on the jump. He could not make himself heard, and all the time the old-fashioned, square topsail was straining at the mast to complete the ruin that the French cannon had begun. There was no time to lose, so young Porter cut the stops without much ado, and down came the heavy yard by the>un, saving the foremast and perhaps saving the fight, too. It was a grave responsibility for a boy to take, but this boy was "Dave" Porter, afterward commodore, and father of the admiral, and he was not of the stuff to hesitate when he saw a good spar in danger and possible defeat as an immediate consequence. The battle went on, and just an hour and a quarter after the first gun was fired, the proud Insurgente, with spars shattered, rigging shot away, and twenty-nine of the crew dead and 26 THE ^'CONSTELLATION." forty-one wounded, lay rolling helplessly on the sea, while the American frigate wore round and took position to deliver a raking fire. Of course the tricolor had to come down ; and from that day the fighting qualities of the new American navy were recognized by all maritime nations — except Great Britain, which had to be given a special course of instruction twelve years afterward. Poor Captain Barreault, of the Insui^gente, came aboard to give up his sword. He was so much astonished at the treatment he received, that he wrote to Commodore Truxtun : " You have united all the qualities which characterize a man of honor, courage and humanity. Receive from me the most sincere thanks, and be assured I shall make it a duty to publish to all my fellow citizens the generous conduct you have observed toward us." A prize crew took the captured frigate into St. Kitts, where she was refitted and sent to sea under American colors. Within a short time the refitted Constellation was at work again, sweeping up the small fry of the buc- caneer-ridden West Indian waters. It was nearly a year before another really worthy antagonist came in her way. The THE "CONSTELLATION. 27 Constellation had heard of her, and was on the lookout for her at seven o'clock in the morning of February i, 1800, just off Guadaloupe. THK BATTLE W fc.\T ON It was the French ship La Vengeance, a for- midable sloop of war, carrying fifty-four guns, which the American captain knew was cruising in those waters. To the surprise of the people on the Constel- lation, the Frenchman did not make a show of 28 THE "CONSTELLATION." fight on the appearance of the Yankee man-of- war. On the contrary, the commander, in spite of his fifty-four guns, for some reason sought to avoid an engagement. He crowded on all sail and made a run for it. Then followed a twelve hours' race that must have been exciting indeed. At eight o'clock in the evening the Frenchman, seeing that he could not escape the fieet-footed Yankee, opened on his pursuer with his stern and quarter-deck guns. The Constellatioii re- turned the fire, ranged alongside, and a terrific combat was begun. The fight lasted until one o'clock in the morning, when the Frenchman's fire was nearly silenced. In fact, he had hauled down his colors some time before ; but in the smoke and dark- ness the signals had not been observed, and in desperation he had resumed the fight. But now luck changed. Midshipman Jarvis, in command of the Constellations maintop, found that the standing rigging had pretty much all been shot away. All hands set at work with a will, Jarvis keep- ing his men aloft to lend a hand. Just at this juncture down came a West Indian squall, and the tall mainmast went overboard, the topmen and Midshipman Jarvis with it. Only one man THE "CONSTELLATION." 29 was saved, poor Jarvis going down with the rest. Thus crippled, the Constellation lost sight of her late antagonist. So suddenly did she dis- appear, that it was feared she had foundered; but with her crew at the pumps, and feeling certain that the terrible Yankee could not pursue until he cleared away the wreck, La Vengeance effected a very lucky escape. The Constellation went home to Norfolk for repairs after this action, and was laid up until the second war with Great Britain. During that war she was blockaded by a British fleet in Hamp- ton Roads, and only escaped capture through the ceaseless vigilance of her commander. It was fortunate for the British that she was thus imprisoned, for she was a formidable ship, and if she had been on the high seas during that war, her record might have rivaled that of her sister, the Constitution, so famous later. The Constellation was destined thereafter to a peaceful career, although she was in the Mediterranean during the war with the Barbary States in 1815, and took part in the operations of Commodore Decatur's fleet against Algiers. After that she cruised to the Pacific, to the East Indies, to Brazil, and elsewhere, carrying the flag often where it had never been seen before. Charles L. Norton. THE EARLY POST-OFFICE. ON February 17, 169 1-2, William and Mary granted to Thomas Neale power to estab- lish offices in the American colonies for receiv- ing and despatching letters or packets. Under this patent Andrew Hamilton was appointed Postmaster-General of America, and was successful in securing concessions from the separate colonies. He established a weekly post from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, southward all the way to Virginia; but in doing this he necessarily ran into debt, for it seems that the expenses of the first four years were about five thousand dollars annually, while the revenue was less than two thousand dollars. In 1707 the crown bought back the Neale patent, and in 17 10 Parliament established post- offices for America, with New York as the cen- ter of operations, and prescribed rates of postage. It may be of interest to note that Virginia, where the parliamentary post-office was introduced in 1 7 18, at first resisted, for the people called the rates of postage a tax, and believed that THE EARLY POST-OFFICE. 31 Parliament could not lay any tax on them with- out the consent of their General Assembly. This feeling soon passed away, for when Franklin, in his examination before Parliament in 1 766, was asked by those who were assuming to justify the stamp tax upon America, " Is not PIONEER MAIL IN WINTER. the post-office, which they have long received, a tax as well as a regulation?" He answered, "No; the money paid for the postage on a letter is not of the nature of a tax. It is merely a quajitmn meruit for a service done. No person is compellable to pay the money if he does not choose to receive the service." Franklin was then Deputy Postmaster-General of North America. From the purchase of the Neale patent until 32 THE EARLY POST-OFFICE. 1775 postmasters were appointed from London. Franklin was postmaster at Philadelphia from 1737 to 1753' ai^d then was Postmaster-General for twenty-one years ; but for a large part of this time he was out of the country. He was removed in 1774, as he says, by *'a freak of ministers." The Continental Congress as early as July, 1 775' 3- year before the Declaration of Inde- pendence, assumed control of the postal service of the colonies, and appointed Benjamin Franklin Postmaster- General for the purpose of running a line of posts from Falmouth or Portland, in Maine, to Savannah in Georgia, with as many cross-posts as he might see fit. Franklin's son- in-law, Richard Bache, was the deputy, and was chosen Postmaster - General on November 7, 1776, owing to the absence of Franklin. Samuel Oso^ood, of Massachusetts, was the first Postmaster-General under Washington, and a copy of his first report, dated December 9, 1789, two months after his appointment, is now among the archives of the department. The growth of the American postal system from this time to the introduction of railroads, nearly fifty years, which may be called the stage-coach era, fully kept pace with the growth of the country, and it may be interesting to THE EARLY POST-OFFICE. 33 note, in these days of large postal deficits, that from 1789 to 1834 there were only eleven years in which the Post-Office Department did not turn in some surplus to the Treasury. The mail originally was confined to letters, and not until 1792 were newspapers admitted by law, and then at the rate of a cent a paper for the first hundred miles, and a cent and a half for longer distances. At this rate the postage on a daily paper, which was then gen- erally a small four-page at the subscrlpdon price of eight dollars a year, would be four 34 THE EARLY POST-OFFICE. dollars and sixty-eight cents for any distance over a hundred miles. While there was a steady expansion of mail routes and mail facilities, and some improve- ment in connections and in speed of transmis- sion, there was but slight reduction in the rates of postage during the stage-coach era. Postage on a single letter was six and a quarter cents for thirty miles, increasing with the number of miles until it became twenty-five cents for all distances over four hundred miles. The same rate held for every enclosure, no matter how small, and four times the rate if the letter weighed over one ounce. The late Secretary McCulloch, in his "Mem- oirs," says that on most of the letters received prior to 1845 by the bank at Fort Wayne, Indiana, of which he was cashier, the postage was one dollar and upward, which shows that the post-oilfice clerks were very careful in ascertaining how many pieces of paper consti- tuted a letter, chareinof as much for an enclosed check as for a letter. What a development of our postal facilities has happened since that time ! The entire revenue of the post-ofTice in the first year of Mr. Jefferson's administration would not now THE EARLY POST-OFFICE.. 35 pay the salaries of one-half the letter-carriers in the city of Philadelphia alone. The net expend- itures of the government in the last year of Mr. Monroe's administration fall more than a million short of the sum appropriated for the free delivery system of the year 1895. The average yearly revenues of the depart- ment in Mr. Lincoln's administrations were less than the present yearly pay of our letter- carriers ; and the expenditures of the Post- Office Department are now one and a half times greater than the cost of the Federal government at the beginning of the Civil War. The Post-Office Department of the United States is to-day the largest business machine that has ever existed in the world, and is daily engaged in the strenuous task of keeping pace with and outstripping the growth of our country and its quick adoption of all the forces of modern progress, whether material or social. W. L. Wilson. THE FIRST CANAL. T^HE beautiful river whose navigation was *■ the first in this country to be improved by a canal received various names from various people. The Dutch, the first of the white race to navigate it and trace it upon a map, called it .the Fresh-water River; the early English settlers called it the Great River ; the Indians the Long River. We know it by its Indian name, Con- necticut — long river. One can hardly realize the extent to which this river was used as a highway before the railroad displaced the rafts and fiatboats and sloops of the early period, and the steamboats that came with the era of steam navigation. When the War for Independence closed, the question, " How can we get our timber and farm products to market more quickly and cheaply?" began to be repeated by the people in the Connecticut valley. Their ox - teams made slow and dif^cult progress over the rough roads that led to the distant market, and traf^c, whenever possible, followed the river. There THE FIRST CANAL. 37 were long stretches of navigable water, but nature had broken the smooth flow of the river at points by a wild race down rocky rapids or a wilder leap over steep falls. '' If we could only get our boats round those great falls and down to Hartford, we could ship our goods to Boston or New York," the farmers and merchants said. Their prosperity was bound up with the improvement of the navigation of the river that flowed by their farms and villages. Many were thinking, " How can we get past those falls ? " By and by a word was passing up and down the valley, carried by boatmen and post-riders and stages and travelers. It was a new word for New England. George Washington had used it in Virginia before he became leader of the American army, but New England ears were not familiar with its sound. "Canal" was the magic word that promised to solve the dif- ficulties of river navigation. The people thrilled at the thought of a safe channel round the rushing, roaring, foaming, tumbling waters of those impassable falls. The idea was soon expressed in companies chartered to build locks and canals round the three great falls known as South Hadley Falls, Turners Falls 38 THE FIRST CANAL. and Bellows Falls, and thus open the river to navigation far into the interior of New England. To the credit of Yankee enterprise the work was promptly beorun and successfully completed. THE ABANDONED CANAL. The story of an abandoned canal on the Con- necticut River is the story of the first canal in this country. It stretched along the east bank of the river. Mount Tom and Mount Holyoke looked down upon it. Before the nineteenth century began it was in operation, and long THE FIRST CANAL. 39 before the century ended it was diverted from purposes of inland navigation to the purposes of manufacture. The South Hadley canal was only two and one-half miles in length, yet its building was an undertaking of considerable magnitude. Some of its channel was cut through the solid rock in days when the power for drilling was in the stout arms of men, and gunpowder was the highest explosive for blasting. It was necessary to'build a dam across the broad, strong current, and more than once did the river rise in the might of a spring or autumn freshet, and like a giant in his wrath break the bonds that checked its freedom. The enterprise was costly. Over eighty-one thousand dollars were assessed on the shares, and the canal had been open for traffic ten years before a dollar was returned to the stockholders. Agents secured large subscriptions to the stock from merchants of Amsterdam, Holland; and when assessments came too hard and money was needed for improvements, the State of Mas- sachusetts, with untroubled conscience, granted a lottery. The toll-gatherer's book is an inter- esting relic of this old canal company. Its first leaves have been torn out and lost. The earliest 40 THE FIRST CANAL. receipt for toll now found is number one hundred and eighteen, and its date, June 6, 1795, tells that the canal was opened in three years after the company was chartered to build it. There were other besides engineering and financial difficulties to meet in building this canal. The dam interrupted the passage of shad and other fish to their breeding- grounds, and the fishermen demanded its removal. An epidemic of fever and ague visited Northampton, and its shaking victims traced the cause of their malady to the canal, whose dam raised the water somewhat on Northampton meadows. A fishway quieted the clamors of the irate fishermen, and the dam was changed to appease the ague sufferers. There was a curious device for raising the boats and rafts of lumber from the one level of this canal to the other. It was not an anticipa- tion of the modern hydraulic lifts used on some canals, yet water did the lifting. There was an inclined plane connecting the two levels. On it was a track for a car. Two water-wheels, one on each side of the canal, at the head of the THE OFFICIAL SEAL. THE FIRST CANAL. 41 inclined plane, were turned by the water of the canal and made to draw up and lower this car. The raft or boat was floated into the sub- merged car ; then the water-wheels were set in motion, and drew the car and its load out of the water, up the track on the inclined plane into the higher level, or reversing the process, passed the car and its load to the lower level. This curious device was in use for ten years before modern locks superseded it. The official seal of the company pictures the inclined plane and the car, and bears the words, ''Sic transit y This canal, with its twin, the canal at Turners Falls, which was opened in 1800, made possible in 1826 the adventurous trip of the little steam- boat Bar7iet from New York, where it was built, to Bellows Falls, and contributed to the opera- tion later of a connecting line of steamboats from Wells River to Hartford. C. G. BURNHAM. TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. THE sun was just setting when old Sauvage and young Louis paddled their pirogue to the landing-place. Their journey was finished ; New Orleans lay but a gunshot away. The old hunter lifted his head and sniffed the air. " Tis the lilies of France, the sweetest per- fume in the world. Smell it, my boy. It's the scent of youth and pleasure, glory and honor, of brave men and brave deeds, as the song says." They drew their long, sharp-pointed pirogue higher up on the bank, fastened its chain to a stake, shouldered their guns and wallets, and began to walk slowly across the bank to the high land beyond. There was no desolation about the scene ; on the contrary, as far as eye could see, there were lights of hospitality, and as far as ear could hear, sounds of conviviality. Little rude cabins, through the cracks of which the light streamed so plentifully that they looked like lanterns, illuminated the bank along the edge of the water. In the open, men in buckskin or homespun were leaping about a huge bonfire ; TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 43 some were wrestling, some dancing to banjo music; the flatboat men's evening frolic was on. The old hunter and the boy looked upon it from the distance, as they had often spied upon Indians frolicking round their camp-fires. '' The Americans hate the Spaniards, too," said Sauvage. "They are rejoicing because the French have driven them out. The Americans are good fellows, but let us go where they are laughing and singing in French." So they skirted round the glare of the fire and walked up the bank higher still and farther, until they came to the public road. The old man stopped and looked slowly all around. "They have cleared the forest away," he said, "and built houses." In truth, wherever they looked in the darkness they could see the twinkling of a candle or the firelight. "Here used to be the Tchoupitoulas Indian settlement, and the only clearing was the plan- tation of the Jesuits. I can feel the soil under my feet to be French. It feels as it used to when I followed Bienville — he did not discover it to make it Spanish soil — and God Himself did not create it to make it Spanish soil ! " When the Spaniards took possession of New Orleans, when the French flag was lowered 44 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. from the flagstaff where Bienville had raised it for the first time in the Place d'Armes, Sauvage turned his back upon home and people, swearing that he would never come back into the colony until the French flag floated over it again. That was thirty-four years ago, and he had kept his word. Every spring, when the water in the streams was high, Sauvage would load his pirogues with the produce of his winter hunting and paddle his way to the Mississippi. There he would wait until other hunters came along with their boat-loads, on the way to the market at New Orleans. They would take his pack with theirs, and bring back to him his supplies of ammuni- tion and other necessities for the winter, and what money was left over from the trade. Every year they brought back less money and more hatred of the Spaniards. Exactions and duties of all kinds were laid upon the com- merce of the Mississippi. A wall had been built round the city, and American boatmen were forced to land and camp outside. Never a year passed now without the dispute leading from words to blows, and the governor calling out his troops to protect the peace of the city. This last summer, however, there was a strange TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 45 and new kind of news to relate. France had whipped Spain in Europe, and had taken her old city back again as one of the fruits of victory. A French general with troops had been sent to. take possession. When old Sauvage and Louis heard this, they hurried back to their hut, put into a pack what they wished to take with them, loaded their pirogue and started for the Mississippi. As they came nearer and nearer to the end of their journey, old Sauvage seemed to get closer and closer in his memories to the past. He called over the names of friends he used to have in the city ; of the children that he played with as a child. He told about his mother, who had died when Sauvage was a young boy and when his sister, little Barbe, could barely walk. They lived in the house that the father had built on the lot given him by Bienville. And Sauvage began to wonder about Barbe, now that he was so soon going to see her, more than he had done during his long absence. The hilarious noise of the flatboat men followed them down the public highroad inside the river bank. A carriage, escorted by a gay cavalcade of gentlemen, passed them on the way to the city, and a troop of horsemen cantering rapidly. 46 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. Suddenly the long, smooth tattoo of a drum fell on the ear. The travelers stopped instinc- tively to listen, with rigid, erect heads ; then without a word quickened their noiseless step in the direction of the sound. They found a camp with soldiers running in all directions, to where a young officer stood on the stump of a tree, reading from a paper in his hand, turning it to catch the light of the torches held by the soldiers posted near. Sauvage and Louis crept close to listen. When the officer finished, the soldiers joined in a wild hurrah, repeated over and over again, throwing their caps in the air. They then rushed forward and seized the young officer in their arms, and bore him aloft ; and walked round in procession, singing, shouting and cheering. Louis felt his shoulder seized with a grip that made him wince. "What heard you there?" asked the old man. "What did the officer read ?" " He read in English that they would take possession of the city to-morrow. Surely you heard that, too, Father Sauvage?" " Yes, I heard that, too. I heard that, too." The old fellow, without a word, turned, and in the quick running walk of the Indians, went swiftly down the road to the city. TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 47 A bridge lay over the moat; the wall had been leveled down into an open way. Sauvage and Louis crossed it, unhindered, unchallenged. A sentry-box stood near, but it was deserted. Inside the wall, at the corner of the street, stood a cabaret filled with as merry a crowd as that of the flatboat coffee-house. And there stood the sentry in his gaiters and bandoleer and bearskin cap, musket in one hand and glass in the other, the merriest of the merry. The old hunter slipped his pack to the ground, loosed his knife in its sheath, and, musket in hand, his gaunt frame drawn to its full height, advanced with swift, firm step into the open door of the cabaret ; and before he was seen, he cried out as he had in his youth once heard Bienville cry out to a delinquent garrison : *' Since when, sirs, do French soldiers leave his majesty's possessions unguarded in the presence of an enemy,"^ — adding for himself, — "and since when do Frenchmen laugh and drink on the eve of surrender ? " A sudden fright struck like lightning among the carousers ; for an instant they looked upon one another in appalled silence, and upon the old man as if he were really the ghost he seemed to be, the ghost of some old coureur de bois. 48 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. *' Where do you come from ?" asked a quaver ing voice in French, from some one in front. ''We come," answered the boy, stepping for- ward, "from a twenty-one days' journey; seven days to the Mississippi, fourteen days down the Mississippi to this place." " How long have you been away from the province?" asked the host of the cabaret. " I left this spot," old Sauvage spoke for him- self, "thirty-four years ago, when the Spaniards took possession. He left it when his grand- father was shot by the Spaniards. He was not born in his native land." There was no smile at this — on the contrary, the answer started a tear in most of the eyes present. An elderly man, dressed in sober black and wearing his hair in a queue, edged his way through the group of men. "Who are you, my friend?" he asked. " I am Rousseau, called Sauvage, the coureur de bois of Bienville." So far had men's minds traveled from that period, so completely had it been left behind in life, that again an awed silence fell upon the room, and man looked to man in doubt and questioning. The old doctor alone kept his presence of mind. LAUGH AND DRINK ON THE EVE OF SUKRENDE 50 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. "You heard that the French had taken pos- session again of their old province ? That is why you are here?" said he. "Well, my friend, the French are in possession — you were right to come. But what you have heard, what you have seen, is also true. The Americans take possession to-morrow." The old man turned. " Come, Louis," he said, simply, * ' we will go back." The pair left the room unheeded in the carouse that began again. The doctor followed them. He saw them slip their packs over their shoulders and start forward, with their guns in their hands. Old Sauvage looked then indeed like a ghost — the unhappy ghost of a time that has no longer a home upon earth. A good physician is never at the end of his resources in any emergency, and the doctor who had followed the pair was not only the best one in the city, but one who knew the people just as intimately as he did their diseases. He had been mechanically repeating to him- self, " Rousseau — Rousseau," until the name opened like a magic key a door in his mind. " Your name is Rousseau ! " he called out to the old man, authoritatively. "There is an old woman here named Rousseau." TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 51 *' My sister, sir ! My sister Barbe ! " answered Sauvage, falling into the trap. '' She has been waiting for you thirty-four years," said the doctor, assured now of his fact. " Go to see her. We do not leave a sister like that on account of a flag. " Young man," he added to the boy, with a smile that was a caress, *' see if you have not relatives, too, and friends here. One does not desert one's native land for a flag. God made the land — it's only man made the flag." He led them himself down the street that lay before them, to the Place d'Armes. Sauvage had left a little town made up of low-tiled cottages, undrained, unpaved ; he found a city of great brick buildings, paved and lighted. He shook his head in confusion and walked doubtingly along. When he came to the Place d'Armes and the doctor left them, he turned to the left, as he used to do to get to the little cabin by the ramparts. " If it is not there ! " he muttered. '' The old cemetery is beyond ; I will find my way there." Fortunately, the tide of Spanish progress had not reached the house of Barbe Rousseau. And old Sauvage could not have slept more at home in the cemetery across the ramparts 62 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. than he did that night in the old house, built by his father, on the lot given by Bienville. On December 20, 1803, the sun rose so clearly in New Orleans, and the day, as the hours passed, grew so radiantly beautiful that it seemed ordained expressly for the consumma- tion of some great event. By daylight the streets were thronged, and if there were sad faces as well as gay ones, and if sighs often broke through a merry laugh, it seemed only a natural sentiment, such as wedding guests feel when they see a beautiful bride married. The ships at the levee flew their gayest bunt- ing. In the Place d'Armes the French soldiers were drawn up round their flagstaff, where the French colors were fluttering their last good-by to the American continent. At eleven o'clock a gun fired the signal that told of the marching of the Americans from their camp to take pos- session of the city, and receive the transfer of the great territory that France had ceded to the United States. Sauvage looked eagerly up to the flag, but the flag that fluttered from the staff in the Place d'Armes was not the flag that he knew and loved, the one that Bienville planted on that spot. It bore not the lilies of France, the golden TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 53 lilies whose perfume the evening before had made sweet the evening air, but the tricolor, the new flag of the revolution. " One does not love a stepmother at first sight when one remembers one's mother," Barbe had said the night before, when she told about this new French flag. The French soldiers drawn up in front of the flag were not the old soldiers that he remem- bered. They were strange, too, to the old hunter. Bronzed and scarred veterans they were, from European battle-fields. Napoleon's grim war-dogs, "with no country but their camp, no God but their general," as Barbe had de- scribed them. They despised the colony and showed contempt for the colonists. The people, she said, preferred the Spaniards to them. Louis was not troubled by the reflections of his companion. He had loved the forest, its untamed people and its wild animals, but this — this was better ! "Look, Father Sauvage, look!" He was ever plucking the old man's sleeve to show him something new and strange — sailors cutting monkey antics on the rigging of the vessels ; a procession of priests going into the cathedral; the French commissioner, Laussat, in his re- splendent uniform, driving up to the great 54 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. cabildo, the city hall, where the ceremony was to take place ; negro marchandes selling cakes and candy, and joking with the passers-by ; American fiatboat men, as noisy as they were the night before ; Spanish officers in their uni- forms ; and the balconies of the houses round the square crowded with ladies and children. The Americans had grouped themselves where they could catch the first glimpse of their flag at the head of the American column. As it came down the street traveled by Sauvage and Louis the night before, the shout that came from their lusty throats bore down every other noise before it. Then an intense silence fell, the hush that the heart alone can impose upon a great throng. With strained attention the crowd watched the American commissioners dismount and enter the great open portals of the cabildo, and the American soldiers take up their allotted positions in the square. When the clock of the cathedral sounded the first stroke of twelve, the commis- sioners — American and French — appeared on the balcony and uncovered their heads, and turned their faces toward the flag. All heads in sight uncovered. A cannon-shot boomed across the organ tones of the church- bell. The French flag, fluttering, trembling. THli AMhRlCAN f LAG MOUNTUIL) INTO THE BLUE SKY. 56 TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. began to descend ; midway it met its successor ascending. Both paused, and the gentle breeze of the place wafted them together, as it were, into an embrace ; color mingled with color, fold intertwined with fold. Then they fluttered apart ; the French flag dropped into the arms of the soldiers below ; the American mounted into the blue sky above. The young boy, plucking at the sleeve of his companion ceaselessly without response, looked to see the reason. The old hunter's eyes were closed, but the tears were forcing their way through the lids and running over the long, thin, parchment cheeks. The soldiers who received the flag marched away with it, carrying it tenderly, as if it were a corpse. All saluted as it passed by, and men, women and children fell into rank and followed it until a great procession was formed. In and out of the streets and round the precincts of the city the flag was carried, receiving its last funeral honors in the land that its land had owned. Sauvage also fell into the procession. Louis, looking up at the flag above him, saw not that he was left alone. "It is a pretty flag," he said, ''and it goes well up there, better than the Spanish flag ? " TRANSFER OF NEW ORLEANS. 57 Looking around, he met only the face of his friend of the night before, the doctor, who caught him by the arm as he hastily moved to join Sauvage in the long line behind the French flag. " No, no, my boy, you come with me in this direction," said the doctor, drawing him forward to where he could hear the American governor reading his proclamation. ''What said he, my boy? What said he to you, the American governor?" asked old Sauvage of Louis that evening, when they sat together again in the house of Barbe, and Barbe herself was there to hear all they could relate. "It is just as I told you. Father Sauvage. When the American governor went to mount his horse, the animal reared and would have run. I held him. The American governor asked me who I was. I told him, and he said that the grandson of a patriot who had lost his life for his country was a citizen that the United States was proud to own." '' What is his name ? What is his name?" *' Claiborne, Father Sauvage." " Well, then, my boy, Claiborne talks like Bienville. So Bienville would have spoken." Grace King. THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. ROBERT FULTON was not the inventor of the steamboat. But to his persistence, to his abiUty to adapt to his own plans the results of experimenters who had preceded him by a few years, and above all to his persuasiveness in convincing men of influence of the ultimate success of his project, is due the beginning of commercial steamboating. John Fitch in 1786 built a steamboat on the Delaware, and a few years later he built a larger one, which ran for a few weeks from Philadelphia to Bordentown ; but he could not get sufficient financial backing, and wrote pitifully in his diary, "The day will come when some more powerful man will get fame and riches from my invention." James Rumsey of Maryland in 1784 showed General Washington a model he had designed, and in 1787 made a short trial trip with a little steamboat on the Potomac. The Rumsey Society, with Benjamin Franklin as a member, was formed to promote this invention, and Rumsey went abroad to obtain European THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. 5^ patents, but died after one short successful trial trip on the Thames. Col. John Stevens, while driving on the banks of the Delaware, saw Fitch's little steamboat making" uncertain headway up the river, and thenceforward turned his great abilities as an JOHN FITCH BUII^T A STEAMBOAT. engineer, greater perhaps than those of any other American of his time, toward the develop- ment of steam navigation. The foundation of our first patent law in 1790 was Stevens's petition to Congress for the protection of American inventors. The experiments, made before the year 1800, awakened the legislatures of the states, newly organized and joined in the Union, to the importance of steam navigation. 60 THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. In several instances they granted patents, and in others the exclusive right of river steam navigation to inventors who could actually comply with varying requirements. Robert R. Livingston, Chancellor of the State of New York, obtained one of these monopolies in 1798. He had married the sister of Colonel Stevens, and his manor-house on the Hudson, "Clermont," gave its name to Fulton's first steamer. This combination of three powerful names, Fulton, Livingston, Stevens, ended the experimental period of steamboating, and brings us to the ' first voyage of Fulton's Clermo7it, from which date the closer relations and better friendship of the nations of the world. The hull of the Clermo7it — its ofificial name was the "North River Steam Boat of 'Cler- mont'" — was built at New York by Charles Brown during the winter of 1806-7, under the direction of Fulton, according to plans which he had gone over with Livingston, who was then our minister at Paris, after they had made successful experiments on the Seine. The steamboat was one hundred and thirty- three feet long, eighteen feet beam, and seven feet depth of hold. The engine, designed in ignorance of its purpose, by Watt, and built at THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. 61 Birmingham, England, was twenty-four inches in cylinder diameter and had four feet stroke of piston, with a boiler occupying about one- sixth of the vessel's length. When the Cle7'mont was ready to begin her first trip, on the morning of Monday, August 17, 1807, Fulton says: "There were not perhaps thirty persons in New York City who believed that the boat would ever move one mile an hour or be of the least utility." The American Citizen the same morning announced the sailing of the boat with the guarded comment: "It is said it will make a progress of two miles against the current of the Mississippi, and, if so, it will certainly be a very valuable acquisition to the commerce of the Western States." In twenty-four hours the voyage to Chancellor Livingston's home, a distance of one hundred and ten miles, was completed, and the next day's run of forty miles to Albany was made in eight hours. The running time for one hundred and fifty miles on the return from Albany to New York was thirty hours, or five miles an hour. Fulton wrote enthusiastically, "The power of propelling boats by steam is now fully proved. 62 THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. ... It will give quick and cheap conveyance to the merchandise on the Mississippi, Missouri and other great rivers, . . . and although the prospect of personal emolument has been some inducement to me, yet I feel infinitely more pleasure in reflecting on the immense advantage my country will derive from the invention." The personal emolument took the form of the grant by the state to Livingston and Fulton of the exclusive privilege of steam navigation on the Hudson for five years for each steamer they built, not in all to exceed thirty years. An eye-witness of the first voyage of the Clermo7it is credited in the "Old South Leaf- lets" with the following description of it: '' It was in the early autumn of the year 1807 that a knot of villagers was gathered on a high bluff just opposite Poughkeepsie, on the west bank of the Hudson, attracted by the appearance of a strange, dark-looking craft, which was slowly making its way up the river. Some imagined it to be a sea-monster, while others did not hesitate to express their belief that it was a sign of the approaching judgment. "What seemed strange in the vessel was the substitution of lofty and straight smoke-pipes rising from the deck, instead of the gracefully THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. 63 tapered masts that commonly stood on the ves- sels navigating- the stream ; and in place of the spars and rigging, the curious play of the work- ing beam and pistons, and the slow turning and splashing of the huge and naked paddle-wheels met the astonished gaze. "The dense clouds of smoke, as they rose, wave upon wave, added still more to the won- derment of the rustics. . . . The fishermen SLOWLY MAKING ITS WAY. became terrified and rowed homeward, and they saw nothing but destruction devastating their fishing-grounds." The words serve better to illustrate the stand- ard of popular understanding of scientific attain- ment a hundred years ago than as an accurate account of the notable event itself. Such JUL 15 1912 64 THE FIRST STEAMBOAT. understanding was not very much in advance of that of a hundred years before Fulton, when the fishermen of the Weser and the Fulda attacked Denis Papin's crude steam paddle-boat, tore loose its machinery and smashed it to atoms. Nowadays even simple - minded folk would regard, only with curiosity and speculation as to its commercial value, a train of dirigible aero- planes, so broad has become popular knowl- edge of and belief in the marvels of invention. Fulton's Clermont solved the problem how to bring the new Western territories within the reach of the people of the original Union, and how the scattered settlers were to trade with one another and with the world at large. A vessel which could stem the current of the Mississippi and bring into regular communica- tion New Orleans at its mouth with the settle- ments near its headwaters, and along the Missouri to the west and the Ohio to the east, was more than a valuable invention in mechan- ics. It was a most powerful agency for binding together and upbuilding the wide-spread parts of a great nation. Eugene Tyler Chamberlain. The Companion Library Comprises the following volumes, each containing 64 pages, illustrated and bound in heavy paper covers. Price 10 cts. each. 1. Stories of Purpose : Bravery, Tact and Fidelity. 2. Glimpses of Europe : Travel and Description. 3. The American Tropics: Mexico to the Equator. 4. Sketches of the Orient : Scenes in Asia. 5. Old Ocean : Winds, Currents and Perils. 6. Life in the Sea : Fish and Fishing. 7. Bits of Bird Life : Habits, Nests and Eggs. 8. Our Little Neighbors : Insects, Small Animals. 9. At Home in the Forest: Wild Animals. 10. In Alaska : Animals and Resources. 11. Among the Rockies : Scenery and Travel. 12. In the Southwest : Semi-Tropical Regions. 13. On the Plains : Pioneers and Ranchmen. 14. The Great Lake Country: A Land of Progress. 15. On the Gulf: The States, Florida to Texas. 16. Along the Atlantic : New York to Georgia. 17. In New England: The Home of the Puritans. 18. Stories of Success : Skill, Courage, Perseverance. 19. Stories of Kinaness : Examples for Rich and Poor. 20. Student Stories : Life in School and College. 21. In Porto Rico : The People, Customs, Progress. 22. In the Philippines : Possession and Experiences. 23. Mid-Ocean America : Hawaii, Samoa, Pacific Islands. 24. Bravest Deeds : Stories of Heroism. 25. Sheer Pluck : Facing Danger with a Purpose. 26. Fearless in Duty : Acts of Courage. 27. Our President: Executive Life and Duties. 28. Our National Senate : Routine of Legislation. 29. Our Congressmen : Responsibilities of Lawmakers. 30. Heroes of History : True Stories of Bravery. 31. Saved by Stratagem : Stories of Adroit Manceuver. 32. The Brink of Peril : Heroic Escapes from Danger. 33. Children s Festivals: What Little Folks can Do. 34. The First Comers : Early American History. 35. In Colonial Days : Struggles of Early Settlers. 36. The Colonies Alert: Gaining Confidence. 37. The Outbreak of War: For Independence. 38. The Struggle for Freedom : Perils of Patriots. 39. Gaining Liberty : The United States of America. 40. The Young Nation: Constitutional Government. PERRY MASON COMPANY, Publishers, 201 Columbus Avenue. BOSTON, MASS. The Youth's Companion Is an Illustrated Family Paper. It is published weekly. Its illustrations are by the best artists. Its stories represent real life and aim to interest readers of all ages. They are stimulating, healthful and helpful, but never sensational. Their great number and variety, together with their marked excellence, give The Companion acknowledged pre-eminence among literary publications. Its editorials upon current topics give facts that are not ordinarily found in other papers, and that it is a pleasure and a benefit to know. Its biographical and historical articles are very valuable to those who appreciate the elements of progress. Successful men and women in many branches of business and professional life give their experiences to the readers of The Companion. Its miscellaneous articles are read by young and old with equal eagerness. Its letters of travel present the picturesque features of foreign life. Its articles on health and etiquette are of real practical value. The paper aims both to entertain and to instruct. It seeks to become a family friend, bringing help and cheer to every member of the household, and to influence directly the conduct and issues of daily life. 2& ^?. ^^-^^^ ■^o. '"Tff''' .^o'-" ts>. **'. %,^^ »'A'- %/ .*^«^°" "^^ ^^ « ^^-^^ ^ ,0*^ ^. *•'-••' -eo •^viK;;!;:!;!:;!;;'^ '!iii|;;/;i|;|!''Mi);i. Ml.,A'.f.li X