Imalip«f^ H^rs 1 ~\ rs !\/?\ ^ f ^g j^ ^R S O iB^r sttfpi v **• KX *?-^ <^ ^ A 3B^ " no s\ l M jm M <'M Es «J /-S>/^ fwk;k , wife £ zmomfefa mm® - 2 r, X * /V/£ ; WfeM 1 tN kiwi. *M&H/?\/ ^PPlAfel llfefe fanmrnm «fe /^\ /~\ will ism mpa lliii /^^ ^« erm ^mm ^Bffi»¥ ^ O K M >V ft? ^Mlli SJ^fel* ' W /"\ /-s r (^ B $/. y ^ OF TMt °- tfcfc r a 0£ T H !:. w s a r i s OIF B A./T i, 1 TO) Tii ill, fa H 1 vlL fe ///VZ/y/ ///■// ' / 'V/.P//4.A , WJiVSSW , "■' / ^ , • YORK THE HISTORY UNITED STATES OF NORTH AMERICA; FROM THE DISCOVERY OF THE WESTERN WORLD TO THE PRESENT DAY. BY W. H. BARTLETT, AUTHOR OP "WALKS ABOUT JERUSALEM," "FOOTSTEPS OF OUR LORD AND HIS APOSTLE6. "FORTY DAYS IN THE DESERT," " THE NILE BOAT," "GLEANINGS ON THE OVER- LAND ROUTE," " PICTURES FROM SICILY," &C, &C. CONTINUED BY B. B. WOODWARD, B. A, F. S.A. AUTHOR OF " THE HISTORY OF WALES," &C. VOL. I. f w or : f VNIVERt^ , . j NEW YORK: VIRTUE, & YORSTON, 12 DEY STREET. t \1& PREFACE. Next after the study of Revealed Truth, that of History has been wisely affirmed to be the duty of every man who would discipline his understanding, and enlarge his sympathies, and from the loftiest point of view which it is permitted to mortals to attain, see the furthest over the wide domain of human affairs. It would not be difficult to gather from Holy Writ the clear assurance, that the lessons of History are the teachings of the Great God him- self, given, age after age, to men. The worth of historic studies, thus regarded as a preparation for the business of life, and as a means of popular education and elevation, it is impossible to exaggerate. How forcibly these remarks, which relate to the Annals of the entire world, ancient as well as modern, apply to the record of events which are of living interest, must be mani- fest to all. And a series which should include the uprise of a nation from those weak and small beginnings, which are most frequently disguised and magnified by the mists of an- tiquity, to the stalwart manhood of unquestioned power ; presenting the various phases of its growth in their bare simplicity ; would furnish an actually Encyclopedian course of reading for all who desired either the ethical or the political wisdom, which we are assured may be won from this source. Whilst, if the story be that of one's own country, and the nation whose progress is traced be that to which the reader, either by birth, or adoption, belongs, the influence is enhanced a thousand-fold ; although the difficulty of gaining and preserving the spirit of honest fairness, in this case, is proverbially great. These are some of the recommendations of the History of the United States ; which has superadded to all such, the profound and stirring interest of scenes of romantic adven- ture, of the cultivation of the love of liberty until the endurance of the very name of " subject " was felt to be a treason against humanity, of the achievement of national in- dependence on the glorious battle-field, and of the maturing of that conquest by the arms and the arts of peace. And, for all who love to attempt the solution of that complicated enigma — Society ; in this nation, and consequently in its history, are found co-existing with a glowing passion for liberty, the most inconsistent species of limitation of its exercise- that imposed upon the expression of opinion ; and the most flagrantly wrong and injurious form of bondage, by which an entire race was ever oppressed. IV PREFACE. ' Not one of these various incentives to historical study has been overlooked in the compo- sition of this work, which has been especially undertaken as a popular and complete History of the great American republic. The materials employed have been, in good part, the letters, state-papers, records, &c, &c„ which are the original sources for the various periods ; and for the rest, care has been taken that they should be authentic and trustworthy. It must be very particularly observed that this is not a Party-History. The proceedings of all parties are related with strict impartiality, and canvassed and discussed with a view to their Tightness alone. Hence it differs widely from other works of a similar character ; and in the extent of its range not less than in its general tone and spirit. The first volume narrates the discovery and colonization of the country, and the earlier and more momentous disputes respecting the possession of it ; — the arbitrary rule of the im- perial government of Great Britain, by which, just as with England herself by the absolutism of Queen Elizabeth, the desire and the capacity for political liberty were nurtured, — the events of the war by which the Independence of the United States was effected, — the unsettled period which immediately succeeded the peace, — and the formation of the Federal Con- stitution. The second volume contains the history of the Administrations of Washington, John Adams, and Jefferson, and of the Home Affairs of Madison's Administration. It treats of that period in the existence of the Union during which the leading idea for interpreting the Constitution, and putting it into operation, as an instrument of government for the nation, was determined. And the third volume traces the progress and fortunes of the Great Republic of the West, from " the Second War," down to our own times. The attainment and carrying out of a national policy, it will be seen, is the prevailing principle of the period surveyed in this part of the work : which concludes at the point where the widely different tasks of the Historian and the Journalist meet, and historic candour and impartiality begin to experience the per- turbing influences of the politics and passions of the passing hour. The first three books in the first volume are from the pen of Mr. Bartlett ; the remainder of the work is by the continuator of his labours, B. B. WOODWARD. BOOK T. FROM THE DISCOVERY OF THE CONTINENT OF AMERICA, TO THE FIRST INTERCOLONIAL WAR. I. — Earliest Discoveries in North America.— Sebastian Cabot.— Verezzani.— Cortereal. — WlLLOUGHBY AND ChANCELOUR. — CARTIER AND THE FRENCH IN CANADA.— DISCOVERY OP the Mississippi by Soto. — The Huguenots and Catholics in Florida. II.— Gilbert's Expedition to Newfoundland. — Discovery of Virginia, and first Attempts at its Colonization.— Gosnold's Voyages. III.— Settlement of New France.— The Jesuits at Mount Desert Island.— Discoveries of Champlain. — Foundation of Quebec. — Destruction of Port Royal. IV.— Voyages and Discovery of Henry Hudson.— Settlement of New Netherlands. V. — The Pilgrim Fathers.— Robinson and his Church in England and at Leyden. — Negociations. — Voyage of the Mayflower. — Hardships and Mortality. — Settlement at Plymouth. YJL— Colony of Massachusetts Bay.— Preliminary Attempts.— Emigration under Win- throp. — Establishment of the Theocracy. — Religious Intolerance. — Roger Williams \/ and Mrs. Hutchinson.— Foundation of Connecticut.— The Pequod War. VII.— Colonization of Maryland by Lord Baltimore.— Its Advantages and Progress. — Dispute with Clayborne.— Establishment of Religious Toleration. VIII. — The New England States during thc Parliament.— Persecutions of the Bap- " t18t8 and quakers in massachusetts.— elliot and the indians.— general progress of the Northern Colonies. ' . IX.— The Aboriginal Indians. — Their Physical and Mental Characteristics, Customs, Manners, Antiquities, and Languages. X.— Progress of New Netherlands.— Dissolution of New Sweden. — Difficulties with Connecticut. — Capture of New York by the English. — Recapture by the Dutch, and final Cession to England. XI.— Continuation of the History of Virginia, from the Death of James I. to the Deposition of James II. XII. — Foundation of Carolina. — Locke's System of Legislation found unsuitable.— Dif- ficulties with the Colonists. — Abrogation of the " Grand Model." XIII. — Affairs of Massachusetts, from the Accession of Charles II. to the Deposition of James II. — Difficulties with the English Government. —War with Philip of POKANOKET. — ABROGATION OF THE CHARTER. — AFFAIRS OF THE OTHER COLONIES. XIV Foundation of Pennsylvania.— Life of Penn.— Grant from Charles II. — Estab- lishment of the Colony. — Disputes with the Settlers. XV.— Progress of New France. — The Jesuits.— Their Discoveries.— Descent of thb Mississippi.— Expedition of La Salle. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VOLUME I. PAGE EMBARKATION OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS {Frontispiece.) VIGNETTE— WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS, NEWBURG ( Engraved Title.) SMITH RESCUED BY POCAHONTAS 39 THE PEQUOD WAR../. 86 THE ESCAPE OF THE DUNSTAN FAMILY 193 BATTLE OF LEXINGTON 150 THE DEATH OF GEN. WOLFE 274 DEATH OF GEN MONTGOMERY 372 KOSCIUSKO'S MONUMENT 41S GEN. BURGOYNE ADDRESSING THE INDIANS 428 MISS McCREA TAKEN BY THE INDIANS 439 TRENTON FALLS 454 GEN. MARION AND THE BRITISH OFFICER 482 VIEW FROM FORT PUTNAM 499 ^ °r rut *>* HISTOET OF AMEEICA. CHAPTER L EARLIEST DISCOVERIES IN NORTH AMERICA. — SEBASTIAN CABOT. — VEREZZANI, — CORTEREAL. — WILLOUGHBY- AND CHANCELOUR.-— CART1ER AND THE FRENCH IN CANADA.— DISCOVERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI BY SOTO. — THE HUGUENOTS AND CATHOLICS IN FLORIDA. On the shores of the Mediterranean, and in the neighbouring kingdom of CHA ' P - Portugal, arose, in the fifteenth century, that spirit of maritime adventure of T~jr7^r which the first-fruits were to be the discovery of a New World. The ma- riners' compass, invented by a native of the little republic of Amalphi, had given an impulse to navigation, and citizens of Genoa and Florence, the seats of reviving art, science, and literature, were the principal pioneers of daring and successful enterprise. To find a shorter path to the riches of the East, of which Marco Polo had recently given such glowing accounts, Columbus, steering boldly across the western ocean beyond the known limits of naviga- tion, lighted upon the verge of that vast continent, of the true nature of which he died without entertaining a suspicion. To Amerigo Vespucci, the first to conjecture its real import, was destined the glory of giving to it a name As succeeding adventurers followed up the track, they were astonished at dis- covering in Mexico, and in Central and Southern America, states which had long subsisted in a high degree of civilization and luxury ; and the accounts of the chroniclers who accompanied them teem with expressions of surprise at the magnificence of their monuments, the remains of which have been so accurately brought before us by recent travellers. Not such was then the condition of the northern half of this great continent, which was destined to afford a lasting seat to the power and enterprise of the Anglo-Saxon race. Along the valley of the Mississippi and its tributaries, we^re scattered, indeed, at wide intervals, the vestiges of prior occupation, mounds, partly natural and partly improved by art, walls and fortifica- tions, exclusively composed of earth, with arms, pottery, and other traces of the former occupation of semi-civilized tribes, to which tradition but dimly pointed. But the whole sea-board, from the shores of the Northern Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico, was entirely destitute even of these rude vestiges, and B A. D. 1492 % HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the vast primeval forests with which it was covered were exclusively occu- . pied as hunting grounds by the roaming savages of the Red Race. Traditions of a discovery of America long anterior to that of Columbus are contained in the ancient Chronicle of Olaus, who relates that the hardy Nor- wegian rovers who colonized Iceland as early as the year 874, left also settlers in Greenland, who, in A. D. 982, launched westward, and finding there a milder seat of habitation, and woody valleys overgrown with wild vines, gave to it the name of Vinland, supposed to be identical with Massachusetts or Rhode Island. Danish antiquaries confidently adduce elaborate, and what they consider irrefragable, evidence of this early settlement, and of successive visits to the same coasts ; but their opinions, though not without advocates, are by no means generally received by American antiquaries, and cannot be cited as a portion of authentic history. To England justly belongs the claim to the first indisputable discovery of the northern continent. Her hardy sailors had long acquired their character- istic nerve and sinew in buffeting the stormy seas of their own coasts and the neighbouring continent, and even in trading voyages to Iceland. The country was emerging from the confusion occasioned by the wars of the Roses under the prudent and thrifty management of Henry VII. Yet the spirit of intel- lectual culture and enlightened enterprise which centred in Italy, Portugal, and the Hanse Towns had scarcely as yet penetrated to England, and thus we find that, after the success of Columbus had given the first impulse to voyages of discovery, they were still for some time projected and carried out by the agency of foreigners. — " I cannot," says Charlevoix, " dispense with a passing remark. It is very glorious to Italy, that the three powers which now divide between them almost the whole of America, owe their first discoveries to Italians — the Spanish to Columbus, a Genoese, the English to John Cabot and his sons, Venetians, and the French to Verezzani, a citizen of Florence." Giovanni Gaboto or Cabot, had settled in Bristol, then the second port in England; and it is a singular coincidence, that this ancient city, which sent forth the first fleet of discovery to North America, should have also equipped the famous " Great Western " steam ship, the first expressly con- structed to shorten the communication with that continent, which the lapse of three centuries had so astonishingly altered. At this sea-port the expedi- tion " was bound and holden only to arrive." The Commission, signed at Westminster on the 5th of March, 1495, (in less than two years after the return of Columbus from America,) authorized Cabot, with his three sons, Lewis, Sebastian, and Sancho, " to seeke out and discover whatsoever isles, -countreys, regions, or provinces of the infidels and heathen," to set up the royal " banners and ensigns in every village, towne, castle, isle, or continent," to take possession of them, and to carry on an exclusive trade with the inhabit- ants, reserving a fifth part of the profits to the crown. The British merchants equipped four vessels ; another, on board of which John Cabot himself em- barked, with his son Sebastian, born to him at Bristol, was furnished by the •parsimonious monarch. Of their first voyage the records are but scanty — but it HISTORY OF AMERICA. 6 is certain that they were the real discoverers of the continent of America. On chap the 24th of June, 1497, about five in the morning, they fell in with that land — ~ m which no man before that time had attempted." The land they called Prima Vista, or first seen, generally regarded as part of the coast of Labrador. Shortly after they reached an island, which, as being descried upon the day of St. John the Baptist, they called St. John's Island. Thus England had the glory of the first discovery of North America, and acquired such right of preoccupa- tion as this circumstance was supposed to confer. The enterprise, but timidly encouraged by Henry, was now more vigorously pursued. A new patent was granted, and Sebastian Cabot undertook a second voyage, in destination and result differing little from the first, save that he is supposed to have followed the coast as far southward as Virginia. He is reputed to have made a third, but the accounts respecting it are not clear ; Robertson and other writers mention but one voyage, and the details given by Hakluyt are confused. Mr. Bancroft considers that "the main fact is indisputable," that Cabot entered Hudson's Bay, and, still bent on the great object ever present to the adventurers of that age, the discovery of a North- west passage to " Cathai," which is in the East, the China of which Marco Polo had given such glowing accounts, and the " bringing of the spiceries from India into Europe." Finding the sea still open, he continued his course until he had advanced so far toward the North Pole, that even in the month of July he found monstrous heaps of ice floating in the sea, when a for- tunate mutiny of his sailors, forcing him to return, in all probability saved the intrepid adventurer from destruction. This third voyage from England of Sebastian Cabot is supposed to have taken place after he had entered into the service of Spain, as pilot major to Charles V., under whose auspices he made a voyage into South America. The discovery of a passage to the Indies still continued to be the favourite object of his hopes. He suggested to the com- pany of merchants adventurers the disastrous enterprise in which Hugh Wil- loughby and Chancelour perished, which, though it failed in its object, led to the discovery of Archangel. This great navigator was more fortunate than most of the early pioneers of American enterprise. He lived to escape the perils of many voyages, and he died full of years and honours. " Wearing old," he says, " I give myself to rest from my travels, because there are now many young and lustie pilots and mariners of good experience, by whose forwardnesse I doe rejoice in the fruit of my labours." Although he founded no colonies in the countries he discovered, he may thus be said to have formed a school of intrepid explorers, and by his example and instructions to have given a great impulse in England to that spirit of maritime adventure which has since become the national characteristic. During the long reign of Henry VIII. this spirit continued to gain ground among the English, whose expeditions now extended from the sunny shores of the Mediterranean to the icy seas of the North. The monarch him- self, though too much absorbed by his own selfish passions, his controversy with the see of Rome, and the struggle between Charles V. and Francis I., to B 2 4 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h a p. take a lively interest in the progress of discovery, was not altogether ncg- ' — lectful of the bold adventurers, whose courage and success had already began ' to prompt the jealousy of Spain. To one expedition to the North-west, at least, he lent his "good countenance," as well as some slight assistance. This was the voyage of Hore and his companions, related by Hakluyt, from the statements of a sole survivor of miseries, so extreme, that many perished with hunger; and others, if his story be true, were reduced to the horrors of cannibalism. All attempts at settlement were as yet abortive, but the fisheries of Newfoundland, long frequented by the French mariners, were also prosecuted by the English with activity and success, so much as to lead to parliamentary regulations for their encouragement. But the discovery of the passage to India still continued to be the object that agitated the hardiest and most sanguine spirits. Sebastian Cabot, unde- terred by his own fruitless attempts, had, as before observed, proposed a course by the North-east, and a company of adventurers being formed, he was ap- pointed governor, and framed a set of instructions derived from his own experience, the command of the expedition being given to Sir Hugh Wil- loughby. " At the first setting forth of these North-eastern discoverers," as Hakluyt well observes, " they were almost altogether destitute of clear lights and inducements, or if they had an inkling at all, it was misty as they found the northern seas, and so obscure and ambiguous, that it was meet rather to deter than to give them encouragement. Into what dangers and difficulties they plunged themselves," says the old chronicler, " { animus meminisse horret,' I tremble to relate. For first they were to expose themselves unto the rigour of the stern and uncouth northern seas, and to make trial of the swelling waves and boisterous winds which there commonly do surge and blow." The " drifts of snow and mountains of ice, even in the summer, the hideous overfalls, un- certaine currents, darke mistes and fogs, and other fearful inconveniences," which the English adventurers had to encounter, he contrasts with " the milde, lightsome, and temperate Atlantick Ocean, over which the Spaniards and Portuguese have made so many pleasant, prosperous, and golden voyages, to the satisfaction of their fame-thirsiy and gold-thirsty minds, with that reputa- tion and wealth which made all misadventures seem tolerable unto them." Willoughby and Chancelour were divided by storms, and after doubling the " dreadful and mistie North Cape," the terrors of a polar winter surprised them, but with very different issue. The former sought shelter in an obscure harbour of Lapland, to die a fearful and a lingering death. In the following spring his retreat was discovered, the corpses of the frozen sailors lay about the ship, Willoughby was found dead in his cabin, his journal detailing the hor- rible sufferings to which they had been reduced. Chancelour, more fortunate, entered the White Sea, and found a secure shelter in the harbour of Archangel. Here the astonished Muscovites received their first foreign visitors with great hospitality, and Chancelour, on learning the vastness of the empire he had discovered, repaired to Moscow, and presented to the czar, John Vasolowitz, a letter with which each ship had been furnished by Edward VI. The czar HISTORY OF AMERICA. 5 dismissed Chancelour with great respect, and by an invitation to trade with chap. his subjects, opened to the English a new and promising career of commerce. ! — The French, as well as the English, had entered at an early period into the pursuit of the northern fisheries. Even in 1504, the boats of the hardy Norman and Breton mariners were in the habit of visiting the Great Bank, and in Charlevoix's time, it was in the memory of the oldest mariners that Denys, an inhabitant of Honfleur, had even traced a map of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Francis I., emulous of the additional splendour of renown and wealth which the discoveries of the Spaniards bestowed on the kingdom of his rival, Charles V., and desirous perhaps of giving the same encourage- ment to maritime adventure that he had bestowed on literature and art, engaged Juan Verezzani, a Florentine, to explore, on his behalf, new regions in the unknown West. With a single vessel, the Dolphin, this mariner left Madeira, and was the first to fall in with the middle continent of North America. The description of his discoveries given to the sovereign who had sent him forth, and the earliest ever penned, has all the freshness and vivid colouring of a first impression. After " as sharp and terrible a tempest as ever sailors suffered, whereof with the Divine help and merciful assistance of Almighty God, and the good- ness of our ship, accompanied with the good-hap of her fortunate name, (the Dolphin,) we were delivered, and with a prosperous wind followed our course west and by north, and in other twenty-five days we made above 400 leagues more, when we discovered a new land, never before seen of any, either ancient or modern." This was the low, level coast of North Carolina, along which, illumined at night by great fires, they sailed fifty leagues in search of a harbour ; — at length they cast anchor and sent a boat on shore. The wondering natives at first fled to the woods, yet still would stand and look back, beholding the ship and sailors "with great admiration," and at the friendly signs of the latter, came down to the shore, "marvelling greatly at their apparel, shape, and whiteness." Beyond the sandy coast, intersected " with rivers and arms of the sea," they saw " the open country rising in height with many fair fields and plains, full of mightie great woods," some dense and others more open, replenished with different trees, " as plea- sant and delectable to behold as it is possible to imagine. And your Majesty may not think," says the Florentine, "that these are like the woods of Hercynia, or the wild deserts of Tartary, and the northern coasts, full of fruitless trees ; but they are full of palm trees, bay trees, and high cypress trees, and many other sorts unknown in Europe, which yield most sweet savours far from the shore." The land he represents as " not void of drugs or spicery, and" (with the idea ever uppermost at that time in the minds of dis- coverers) " of other riches of gold, seeing that the colour of the land doth so much argue it." He dwells upon the luxury of the vegetation, the wild vines which clustered upon the ground or trailed in rich festoons from tree to tree, the tangled roses, violets, and lilies, and sweet and odoriferous flowers, different from those of Europe. He speaks of the wild deer in the woods, A. D. 1524. 6 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, and of the birds that haunt the pools and lagoons of the coast. But, after his rude tossing on the stormy Atlantic, he is beyond measure transported with the calmness of the sea, the gentleness of the waves, the summer beauty of the climate, the pure and wholesome and temperate air, and the serenity and purity of the blue sky, which, " if covered for a while with clouds brought by the southern wind, they are soon dissolved, and all is clear and fair again." Desirous of taking home some of the natives, Verezzani endeavoured to carry off a young woman, " very beautiful and of tall stature," but she suc- ceeded in making her escape. This was an ill return for the kindness of the unsuspecting Indians, who had saved from destruction a young sailor, nearly drowned, and who had given himself up for lost, even when rescued by the savages. Sailing along the coast to the northward, the Italian entered the noble Bay of New York, — nearly a century before Henry Hudson. He describes it as " a delightful place among certain little steep hills, from amidst which there ran down into the sea an exceeding great stream of water, which within the mouth was very deep, and from the sea to the mouth, with the tide, which we found to rise eight feet, any great ship laden may pass up." He did not, however, ascend the river, his exploring boats being driven back by"a sudden squall to the ships. Still sailing to the north, he next notices an island in form of a triangle " about the bigness of the Island of the Rhodes," and comes to an anchor in " a passing good haven," supposed to be that of Newport. There the Indians appeared to him the " goodliest people and of the fairest conditions that he had found in his voyage." At sight of his gallant vessel under full sail, the natural enthusiasm of wonder was awakened in their minds, they uttered loud cries of admiration, and fearlessly came off to the ship — prudently, however, leaving their females behind them in the canoes, a precaution which no persuasion could induce them to renounce. After Verezzani had remained some days among them, he still continued to explore the northern coast of New England as far as Nova Scotia, whence he re- turned to France. All accounts admit that this was not his only voyage of discovery. According to Hakluyt, he was thrice on the American coast, and gave a map of it to Henry VIII. His fate, however, is uncertain ; some suppose that he perished at sea, or that he was killed in an encounter with savages, while others believe that he escaped from all his perils, and found an honourable retirement in his native country. The discovery of America by Columbus, in the vain quest of a shorter route to the Indies, occurred almost at the same time that Vasco de Gama, by rounding the Cape of Good Hope, had ascertained the true passage to those glowing climes, to which the attention of the Portuguese was soon afterwards almost exclusively directed. Yet one expedition they sent out to the shores of North America, commanded by Gaspar Cortereal, who in 1501 ranged the coast for several hundred miles, and carried off a considerable number of the natives to be sold as slaves, but, like his predecessors, attempted no perma- nent settlement. HISTORY OF AMERICA. The voyage of Verezzani was unattended by any settlement. Francis, chap. occupied at home in his struggle with Charles V., was little disposed to — *- — engage in fresh attempts, but at the instance of Chabot, Admiral of France, Jacques Cartier, an experienced mariner of St. Malo, a small but enterprising fishing town on the coast of Brittany, was appointed to the command of a second expedition. Furnished with two small but well-appointed ships of 60 tons burden, on the 20th of April, 1534, he reached Newfoundland, which he nearly circumnavigated ; then crossing the Gulf of St. Lawrence, discovered the Baie des Chaleurs, so. called from the intensity of the summer heat, equalled only in the Canadian climate by the excessive rigour of the winter's cold. Then stretching to the N. W. to find a passage, he landed on the point of Gaspe, where, in the presence of many of the natives, he erected upon the entrance of the said haven " a faire high cross of the height of thirty feet, in the midst whereof," he says, " we hanged up a shield with three Fleur de Luces on it, and on the top, carved in anticke letters, this posie — Vive le Roy de France" Being, however, unprepared for wintering, he resolved to return, and after a swift passage, reached in September the harbour of St. Malo. This first voyage of Cartier, although no settlement was effected by him, seemed to open a new career of discovery, which the court of France was now more disposed to encourage. The spirit of enterprise gained ground among all ranks ; and some even of the young nobility enrolled themselves among the adventurers. The next expedition was consecrated by the solemnities of the Catholic Church. On Whit-Sunday, the 16th of May, 1535, the whole body confessed, and received the sacrament and the episcopal benediction in the cathedral of St. Malo. Three well-furnished ships were ready ; the Great Hermina, of 120 tons, of which Cartier was appointed commander, the Little Hermina, of 60 tons, and the Hermerillon, of but 40. They departed " with a good gale," and, proceeding to the west, they reached, as Hakluyt calls it, " the goodly great gulfe, full of islands, passages, and entrances, with every wind," which, from their opening it on the day of St. Lawrence, they named after that saint, and entered the " great river of Hochelaga, never before explored," which has since received the same appellation of St. Lawrence. Cartier anchored awhile in a tributary stream, which still retains his name. Many devices were attempted by Donnacona, a chief of the country, prompted by jealousy of the other tribes, to prevent him from ascending the river to Hochelaga, now Montreal, and at that time a principal Indian settlement. But Cartier, penetrating his motives, continued his voyage up the river ; and passing through Lake St. Peter's, although struggling with the " fierceness and swiftness " of the downward flow, at length attained the desired Hochelaga. His arrival created a feeling of enthusiasm among the simple Indians, and his landing was a pageant which it is beautiful to realize. " As they stepped on shore, they were met by a thousand persons, men, women, and children, who ' afterwards entertained them, as a father would his child ; ' " their boats, on 8 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, returning to the vessels, were loaded with millet, bread, fruit, and other pro- — ^ visions. The next day, Cartier, " very gorgeously apparelled," attended by k. d. 1535. ^^ o-entlemen and twenty sailors, and having obtained three guides, ascended the mountain which overhung the Indian settlement. The way from the shore was broad and well beaten ; and after he had proceeded some distance, he was met by one of " the chiefest lordes of the citie," arrayed in barbaric splen- dour, in skins and plumes,who invited him to repose a while around a good fire that had been kindled, and entertained him with a discourse " in sign of mirth and amitie." In return for his good will, the French commander made him a present of hatchets and knives, and a cross which he instructed him to kiss. As Cartier advanced higher and higher, his eye reposed with delight upon the wide-spread expanse that gradually opened ; he admired the scattered groups of oak trees, and the smiling enclosures of bright green Indian corn, the noblest of cereal productions. When, at length, he gained the summit of the mountain, transported with the extent and magnificence of the prospect, he bestowed on it, in his enthusiasm, the name of Mont Royal. From this com- manding elevation he beheld the broad stream of the St. Lawrence, dotted with islands, and gay with Indian barks : a vast and level region of primeval forest occupied both shores, unbroken but by a few Indian settlements ; above this great plain, at intervals, arose groups of bold and insulated mountains, extending far toward the southern horizon. It was a scene fitted for the seat of empire ; and proudly must the heart of its first discoverer have swelled as he gazed upon it, and indulged in visions of its future greatness. At his feet, and joined to the spurs of the mountain, was the pretty Indian town of Hochelaga, enclosing in its three courses of ramparts, the fifty dwellings of the Indians, each fifty paces long by fifteen wide, neatly built of wood covered with fine bark, and having on the top store places for their corn. This beaten to powder, and made into cakes baked on hot stones, together with pottage, stores of pulse, dried fish, and fruits, especially cu- cumbers and melons, formed the simple but abundant food of the inhabit- ants. They slept on fine bark covered with skins. As Cartier descended into the open space in the midst of the town, the chief came forth to meet him, borne on the shoulders of ten Indians. Seating himself with the French- man on a fine deer skin, he took from his own head the wreath which served as his distinctive badge, and placed it upon that of Cartier. The Indians, who invested their visitors with supernatural attributes, brought forward their sick in order that they might be healed. " With the simplicity of these poor people," says Charlevoix, " the Captain was greatly moved : he armed himself with a lively faith, and recited, as devoutly as he was able, the begin- ning of the Gospel of St. John. He then made the sign of the cross over the sick, distributed to them chaplets and Agnus Dei, and made them understand of how great virtue these were, for the cure of all sorts of infirmities. This done, he engaged in prayer, beseeching earnestly the Lord to leave no longer these poor idolaters in darkness, and recited with a loud voice the passion of Jesus Christ. The Indians listened with vague feelings of awe and devotion HISTORY OF AMERICA. 9 to these pious ceremonies, which were terminated by a burst of music, which chap. set them beside themselves with wonderment and joy." . '■ — . • AD. 1536. On leaving the friendly Hochelaga, Cartier returned to his old station at the river now called after his name. A tradition existed in the time of Char- levoix, that one of his vessels was wrecked upon a sunken ledge, opposite its mouth, hence called " Jacques Cartier's rock." Here he passed the long and dreary Canadian winter, " in ice two fathoms thick, and snow four feet higher than his ship's sides ; " and losing many of his people, of all ranks, by the ravages of the scurvy. On the approach of summer he gladly prepared to return to France ; set up a cross in sign of French occupation ; and, partly by force and partly by persuasion, having brought off Donnacona and some others with him, he in July, 1536, regained the well-known harbour of St. Malo. The noble river which Cartier was thus the first to explore, is unique in its peculiarities, and perhaps unequalled by any other in the world. The mag- nificent lakes, or rather inland seas, of which it is the outlet, which maintain the even and unvarying flow of its majestic current, are assumed, upon solid grounds, to contain half the fresh water on this planet. The quantity dis- charged hourly by this amazing flood, is estimated at 1,672,704,000 cubic feet. Its basin is divided into three parts, the higher being occupied by Lake Superior, three hundred miles in length, and receiving more than fifty rivers. Through the falls of St. Mary, the whole of its waters pour into the Lakes of Michigan and Huron, of scarcely inferior dimensions. The almost unfathom- able depth of these lakes is a highly interesting phenomenon in physical geo- graphy. Though the upper level of the two last is 618 feet above the At- lantic, their bottoms are nearly 300 feet below it. By the straits of Detroit, these upper lakes pour down into the basin of Lake Erie, which is 230 miles in length. This immense body of water rolls incessantly, in its resistless might, over the sublime cliffs of Niagara, and then for several miles of swift descent, through the profound and narrow chasm which it has excavated in the course of ages, roars one continuous and terrific rapid, one whirl of foam and terror, forming a scene altogether unequalled in sublimity upon our globe. By this channel it descends to the level of Lake Ontario, the last and lowest of these inland seas, 200 miles long by 70 broad. The river, as it flows out of this lake, varies from two to ten miles wide, and • is divided into numerous channels of every width, as it passes through the " Thousand Isles." These are of every size and form, and for the most part in a state of primeval nature, forming a scene of soft and romantic beauty, of dreamy, fairy strangeness — of fantastic intricacy, in striking contrast to the terrific grandeur of Niagara. Hurrying on, with its burden of timber rafts, over the tremendous rapids of the Long Sault and La Chine, (which interrup- tion is now surmounted by a ship canal,) it is increased by the influx of the romantic Ottawa, and flows past the city of Montreal, the growing emporium of Canada, receiving, as it proceeds on its course, the waters of Lakes George and Champlain, to expand at length, in all its glory, beneath the crested crags of A. D. 1540. 10 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. Quebec. From this city, the great timber depot, it is 550 miles to the sea, navigable for ships of the line of the first class, while vessels of 600 tons ascend to Montreal, which is upwards of 730 miles above the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The whole of this stupendous basin (which, when Cartier first entered it, was the haunt of the roaming savage) is fast filling up, and becoming the seat of a mighty nation. But three centuries have elapsed since it was discovered, yet how much of romantic incident, of momentous change, and of astonishing progress, has filled up the short but eventful period ! Upon these lakes, then skimmed only by the wandering canoe, hostile fleets have been built, and have contended in deadly conflict. On one of its shores feeble colonies have sprung up into an independent nation, rivalling in power the proudest states of the old world. Populous cities adorn the banks of these great inland waters, and splendid steam-boats connect their remotest extremities. Canals have been cut to overcome the occasional obstacles presented by nature, and a chain cf internal water communication, extending from the Atlantic many hundreds of miles into the heart of this mighty continent, serves as a highway for the countless emigrants who are continually pouring into it from all the nations of the civilized world. The next attempt at a settlement was made by Francis de la Roche, lord of Roberval, a nobleman of much provincial reputation, and called sometimes by Francis I. the " petit roi du Vimeu." A simple commission was not suf- ficient for a person of so much consideration ; and thus the king, by letters patent, invested him with the cheap and high-sounding titles of " Seigneur of Norimbega, viceroy and lieutenant-general of Canada, Hochelaga, Sa- guenay, Newfoundland, Belleisle, Labrador, the great bay, and Baccalaos, (or Newfoundland,) with power and authority equal to his own." With him were associated many persons of quality ; but the mariner of St. Malo was indispensable to the success of the enterprise, and Cartier was thus made captain-general and commander of the ships. According to Charle- voix, however, either from the delay incurred by RobervaPs extensive pre- parations, or from some misunderstanding, the force of the enterprise was divided, which led to a fruitless result. Cartier, setting sail alone, returned to Canada, but added little to his former discoveries, and, being discouraged, in the following year returned, entering the harbour of St. John's, New- foundland, at the same moment that Roberval arrived there from France. A want of concert had existed between them from the beginning, and Cartier, unwilling to return to Canada with Roberval, slipped out of the harbour, and continued his homeward course. Roberval repaired to the St. Lawrence, built one fort on a commanding mountain above the Isle of Orleans, and ano- ther at its base, establishing strict discipline among his motley company of exiles, many of whom, to make up the number, had been ransacked from the prisons at home, and had brought their vices with them. The result answered but little to the pretensions and cost of the adventure, and its disappointed author returned to his more solid, if less high sounding, dignities at home. Yet all agree, according to Charlevoix, that he was tempted a second time to HISTORY OF AMERICA. 11 A. D. 1512. re-establish, himself in his viceregal possessions, accompanied by bis brother, chap. one of the bravest men in France, and by a numerous company of adven- turers. They sailed in 1549, and were never heard of more. We must now turn to the progress of Southern discovery. Of all coun- tries that inflamed the ardent imagination of the Spaniards who followed in the track of Columbus, tempting their "fame-thirsty and gold-thirsty minds" with visions of immortal discoveries and boundless wealth, Florida was long the chief; and in no point were these lofty anticipations so signally falsified. Credulity and avarice, like mocking tempters, lured on succes- sive adventurers to the fatal shore, from which they never returned, or returned but to expire in the anguish of disappointed hope. The expedi- tions of Ponce de Leon, Narvaez, and Soto, of which but a brief abridgment can be given here, are among the wildest and the most mournful in the history of American discovery. Juan Ponce de Leon was a veteran Spanish warrior, who had fought against the Moors of Granada, and afterwards against the Indians in Hispaniola, under the governor Nicholas de Ovando. Restless for conquest and advance- ment, he sought permission to subdue the neighbouring island of Porto Rico, where, after many a struggle with the natives, he at length established him- self, and amassed considerable wealth. Being, however, superseded in this government, he listened with eagerness, says Irving, to the stories of " some old Indians, who gave him tidings of a country which promised not merely to satisfy the cravings of his ambition, but to realize the fondest dreams of the poet. They assured him that, far to the north, there existed a land abounding in gold and in all manner of delights ; but, above all, possessing a river of such wonderful virtue, that whosoever bathed in it would be restored to youth. Ponce de Leon was advanced in life, and the ordinary term of exist- ence seemed insufficient for his mighty plans. Could he but plunge into this marvellous fountain or gifted river, and come out with his battered, war-worn body restored to the strength and freshness and suppleness of youth, and his head still retaining the wisdom and knowledge of age, what enterprises might he not accomplish in the additional course of vigorous years insured to him ! " " The wonders and novelties breaking upon the world in that age of discovery almost realized the illusions of fable." Ponce de Leon fitted out three ships, and on the 3rd March, 1512, sailed from Porto Rico with his band of credulous adventurers. Touching at the Bahamas, among which he long sought in vain for the life-giving fountain, he, on the 2nd of April, came to anchor off the coast of Florida. The land seemed beautiful as it had been described to him, the ground was bright with flowers, from which circum- stance, and from having discovered it on Palm-Sunday, (Pascua Florida,) he gave it the name which it retains to the present day. He landed and took possession of it in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, followed the coast for some distance, made various abortive attempts to ex- plore the interior, and returned to Porto Rico. He had sought in vain for the renewal of his youth, but he had found a new territory, and he now c 2 A. D. 1526. 12 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, returned to Spain to reap the reward of his discovery. The king created him Adelantado of Florida, and intrusted him, moreover, with the command of an expedition against the piratical Caribs that harassed the Spanish settle- ments. Here he was so unsuccessful that he retired in vexation to Porto Rico, where he remained for some years, and gave up all thoughts of further adventure. But the exploits of Cortez aroused at length the slumbering spirit of Juan Ponce ; he had learned, moreover, that the supposed island of Florida was but part of a vast continent, which imagination painted gorgeous and wealthy as Mexico ; and, old as he was, he thirsted to explore and subdue it. This desire was destined to be fatal to him ; for scarcely had he landed before he was wounded in an encounter with the Indians, and returned to Cuba to close his career of illusion, and to die in bitterness of soul. The Spaniards continued to extend their discoveries and conquests around the Gulf of Mexico. Grijalva had explored Yucatan, and brought thence those reports of the boundless wealth of Mexico which excited the enterprise of Cortez. Vasquez d'Ayllon had made a voyage to the coast of Carolina for the seizure of slaves, but no one had renewed the attempt to conquer Florida. In 1528, Pamphilo de Narvaez, who had been sent to arrest Cortez in the midst of his career of Mexican conquest, and had been easily defeated by him, desirous of emulating his wonderful exploits, obtained permission to invade the country that was to prove as fatal to himself as to its discoverer. With three hundred men, he landed at a spot not far from the bay of Appalachee ; instead of a wealthy and long-established empire, such as he had expected to find, he fell in with a collection of miserable wigwams, in the midst of swarnps and morasses, which, almost impassable to strangers, afforded to the fierce hostile Indians at once the facility of attack and the certainty of retreat. His fol- lowers, during six months spent in misery, were wasted away by sickness or cut off by ambush ; with a handful of men he reached the coast ; despair compelled them to venture to sea in such wretched barks as could be hastily constructed. Narvaez, with the greater number, foundered in a storm ; others were saved only to perish of famine ; few only succeeded, after many years of wanderings and hardships, in reaching Mexico. The marvellous accounts of Cabeca de Vaca, one of these survivors, were destined to lure on other and more gallant adventurers. He persisted so solemnly in his statement about the wealth of the countries he had seen, that we are almost tempted to think he might really in the course of his wanderings have penetrated into that very gold country of California, which is now in the nineteenth century re- viving the same spirit that burned in the breasts of the early adventurers. Ferdinand de Soto was the son of a squire of Xeres. He went into the Spanish settlements when Peter Arias of Avila was governor of the West Indies ; " and there," says the chronicler from whom these details are taken, " he was without anything else of his own save his sword and target ; and for his good qualities and valour Arias made him captain of a troop of horse- men, and by his command he went with Fernando Pizarro to the conquest of Peru." Here he was at the taking of Atabalipa, as well as at the assault of A. D. 1538. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 13 the city of Cusco. Loaded with the wealth he had acquired, he repaired to chap. Spain, appeared at court with great magnificence, obtained the daughter of Pedro Arias in marriage, and was appointed by Charles V. Governor of Cuba and Adelantado of Florida. Vague stories of the extraordinary wealth of that country were already current, when the reports of Cabeca de Vaca, who had just returned and pronounced it to be the richest in the world, influenced not only the mind of Soto himself, but also of the whole court. Many persons of distinction hastened to join him; and already imaginary offices and titles were distributed among them. The Adelantado departed from Seville to embark at San Lucar, with all his company. It was like the gathering to some gay tournament or festival. " The Portuguese showed themselves in very brilliant armour," and the Castilians " very gallant with silke upon silke ; " all felt as though they were about to enter upon the possession of a rich and conquered country. This spectacle of such " braveries " liked not Soto, who had shared the perils and hardships of Pizarro. He commanded that they should muster in more soldier-like style, and from the numerous aspirants selected only a company of six hundred of the most promising, with whom he proceeded to embark. The voyage was as favourable as the minds of the adventurers were full of credulity and hope. On reaching Cuba, Soto sent a caravel and two brigan- tines to explore the havens of Florida, and from thence they brought two In- dians, as well to serve them for guides and interpreters, as because they said by signs there was much gold in Florida. At this news, the governor and all his company hastened their departure, believing that they were going to "the richest country that unto that day had been discovered." On Sunday, the 18th May, 1539, Soto departed with his fleet of nine ves- sels, and a fair wind carried them to the coast of Florida, where they went on shore, two leagues from a town of an Indian lord called Veita. They landed their 213 horses, and with all their force began to march along the swampy coast. Never were such splendid expectations so suddenly and sadly undeceived ! The Florida Indians appear from the first to have resisted with unusual fierceness ; yet Soto, who had triumphed in Peru, confident of the issue, sent back the ships to Cuba for provisions. But difficulties thickened around them at every step. Their guides escaped ; a party sent to obtain others advanced through morasses impracticable for the horsemen, and seized some women, upon which they were charged by twenty Indians, who forced them to return discomfited. They soon discovered that they had no con- temptible foes to contend with ; that " before a crossbowman can make one shot, an Indian will discharge three or four arrows, and he seldom misseth what he shooteth at ; and an arrow, where it findeth no armour, pierceth as deeply as a crosse-bow." And when they had at length obtained another guide, they found still more serious obstacles in the pestilential swamps, marshes, rivers, and pathless and tangled forests that overspread the level coast. Provisions failing them, they were often reduced to the half-grown stalks of Indian corn, or beet-root sodden with water and salt; privations 14 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, embittered by the insane extravagance of their previous expectations. Their perils increased as they continued to advance ; their guide fled, and was only iMi. ' recovered by being hunted down with bloodhounds. The hostility of the Indians was as indomitable as their subtlety was acute. Carried with chains and iron collars around their necks to fetch maize, they would often turn upon their Spanish guide and slay him, or file away their fetters and effect their escape to the woods. After travelling many days through a wilderness, the Indians told them they could not advance for the water ; and here they first fell in with traces of Narvaez's ill-fated expedition. The whole company, in despair, now coun- selled the Governor to go back to the port of Spirito Santo, and to abandon Florida, lest he should perish as Narvaez had done ; warning him that if he continued to advance among trackless morasses, his retreat would certainly be cut off. But the proud spirit of Soto would not acknowledge the failure of such magnificent hopes ; nor was he as yet undeceived. He declared that he would not return till he had seen with his own eyes the truth of the re- port of the Indians. Thus passed a summer and two winters of lingering misery, Soto sternly and inflexibly refusing either to give up his enterprise or allow his followers to settle. They adhered to him with devotion prompted alternately by hope and by despair. Their thirst for gold tormented them as does the mirage in the desert the traveller perishing with thirst, and like the phantom waters, it eluded all their research. Their wanderings may with difficulty be traced. After their first winter they advanced into the Cherokee country and Georgia, then descended to the southward to Mavilla, or Mobile. They desired to occupy the town ; the Indians fiercely resisted ; the town was burned in the sanguinary conflict, and though the Spaniards were the victors, their bag- gage was consumed in the flames. The ships had now arrived with succours ; but Soto, infatuated by wounded hope and pride, refused to avail himself of this last chance of escape. Obstinately nourishing his illusions, he advanced into the Checkasaw country, and there wintered. A hundred of his band had already perished by war or sickness. After another terrible encounter with the Indians, who set on fire the village, burning some of the Spaniards, with the remainder of their clothing, and their horses, he obstinately led his half-naked followers still farther into the heart of the western wilds. At length, after travelling seven days through a desert of marshes and thick woods, the people weak for want of food, and their horses miserably reduced, they, in April, 1541, approached the banks of the mighty Mississippi, rolling through a solitude never before visited by the foot of the white man. The scenery around them was wild and strange. Here immense festoons of Spanish moss trail from the boughs of the dark cypress ; the bear houses himself in the hollow of its trunk, while the alligator is seen basking in the morass, or floating past on some tree that has been undermined by the current. The lofty cotton-wood, the fan-like palmetto, the impenetrable cane-brake, are matted together, forming a tangled maze of the rankest verdure, which breeds whole A.D. Ml. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 15 legions of noxious reptiles and bloodthirsty mosquitos. The Cacique of the chap country artfully sent a deputation to Soto, to inform him that they had long ago been informed by their forefathers that a white people should subdue them, and promising he would come and pay his obeisances to the Spaniard. Soto encamped a short distance from the river, obtained a supply of maize, and began to prepare barges for its passage. It spread out before them with its wild expanse of turbid waters, of great depth and of powerful current, bringing down continually trunks of trees, torn from the tangled forests that overhung its banks. " So broad was it," (almost half a league,) " that," says the chronicler, ' ' if any one stood still on the other side, it could not be dis- cerned whether he were a man or no," The next day they were astonished by a splendid and romantic spectacle. A fleet of two hundred canoes bore down upon them, their bows and arrows painted, and with great plumes of white and many-coloured feathers, having shields to defend the rowers on both sides, and the Indian warriors standing from head to stern, with their bows and arrows in their hands. The canoe which carried the Cacique had a tilt over the stern, and so also had the barks of the principal Indians. From under the tilt where the chief sat, he directed and commanded the others ; all joined together, and came within a stone's cast of the shore. From thence the Cacique said to the Governor, who walked along the river's side with those that waited on him, " that he was come thither to visit, honour, and obey him, because he knew he was the greatest and mightiest lord upon the earth, therefore he would see what he would command him to do." Soto yielded him thanks, and requested him to come on shore, that they might the better communicate together. Returning no answer to that point, the Cacique sent him three canoes, full of fish and loaves, made of the substance of prunes, like unto bricks. And after Soto had received all, he thanked him, and prayed him again to come on shore. The Spaniards had been trained to mistrust, and, believing that the Cacique's purpose was " to see if with dissimulation he might do some hurt — since, when they saw that the Governor and his men were. in readiness, they began to go from the shore — with a great cry the crossbowmen, which were prepared, shot at them, and slew five or six of them. The Indians retired with great order, none leaving his oar, though the next to him were slain; and shielding themselves, they retired farther up the river." The Spaniards were filled with admiration at their canoes, " which were very pleasant to behold, for they were very great and well made, and had their tilts, plumes, paveses, and flags ; and with the multitude of people in them, they seemed like a /aire armie of galliesP Thirty days of toil were consumed in construction of four barges, and Soto prepared to pass the river. Three of the barges, each bearing four horses with their riders, some cross- bowmen and rowers, led by Guzman, one of the most resolute of the officers, determined to make sure the passage, or die. But the Indians offered no opposition. The swiftness of the stream obliged the bargemen to ascend a quarter of a league higher up the banks, whence falling down with the cur- A. D. 1542. 16 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, rent, they landed just opposite the camp. As soon as those that passed first had landed, the barges returned, and within two hours after sun-rise, the Governor, with his whole company, stood on the western bank of the Mississippi. Soto now advanced into the great unexplored wilderness of the west, among pathless morasses full of hostile Indians, who had watched his move- ments, and began to harass his march. The barges, which were compelled to keep close to the banks of the river on account of the current, were attacked as soon as the horsemen were out of sight. The progress of the Spaniards through the swamps and forest was slow and disheartening. Sometimes they would pass the whole day in the morasses up to their knees, and were too happy to find dry ground at evening, " lest they should wander up and down as forlorn men all night in the water." At length they came to the territory of a powerful Cacique, who supplied their wants, and treated them with the reverence due to superior beings. Two blind men were brought forward, and the Cacique, " seeing that" the Governor "was The Child ot the Sun, and a great lord," besought him to restore their sight ; which re- quest Avas earnestly seconded by the sufferers themselves. Soto replied, that, "in the high heavens was He who had power to give them health, and that this Lord made the heavens and the earth, and man, and suffered upon the cross to save mankind, and rose, and ascended into heaven to help all that call upon him." He then commanded the Cacique to erect a lofty cross, to wor- ship it, and to call upon Him alone who had suffered for them. As he ad- vanced, the Indians were still friendly; one of the Caciques gave Soto two of his sisters as his wives, and the half-naked Spaniards were now well clad in garments and mantles of skins and furs presented by the natives. Soto had now lost 250 men and 150 horses, nearly half of his entire force, and he de- sired to send to Cuba for reinforcements, still believing that the country de- scribed by Cabeca de Vaca was yet undiscovered. At Auteamque, supposed to be on the Washita River, they passed the winter. Here they lost their interpreter Ortiz, which reduced them to the greatest embarrassment. The winter had not yet ceased, when Soto, impatient to advance, left Auteamque ; sometimes delayed by the snow for days, and up to the stirrup when trying to advance through the swamps. To reach the sea was now the absorbing idea, but where it lay no one knew. Soto eagerly inquired for it ; the Cacique could give him no intelligence. Mistrusting his report, the Spaniard sent out an exploring party, who, after wandering eight days in morasses and cane brakes, returned only to confirm the intelligence of the Indians. The spirit of Soto began to give way, — his men were falling around him, — chagrin and disappointment threw him into a wasting fever, which rapidly cousumed his remaining strength. The hostility of the Indians added to the perils of his situation. Before he took to his bed, he summoned the Cacique of Quigalte to come to him and do him reverence as to the Child of the Sun ; but the Indian replied, " If he would dry up the river, he would believe him, — that if the Spaniards came in peace, he would receive them ac- cordingly ; and if in war, he would not shrink back one foot." This answer HISTORY OF AMERICA. 17 provoked a party to punish the independence of the Cacique, and a horrid chap. massacre of the Indians was the funeral obsequy of the expiring Soto. Yet there ! — is something touching in the account of his last hours : he was now, he said, about to give an account to God of his past life ; and desired his followers to pray for him, thanking them with his last breath for the singular virtue, love, and loyalty they had displayed towards him. Devotedly, indeed, had his fellow adventurers followed him for a long period of misery and discourage- ment ; their loyalty had been put to the severest test ; and their sorrow at the loss of so brave a commander was secretly relieved by the hope that Luys de Moscoso, whom he appointed his successor, would give over the disheart- ening enterprise and return to Cuba. Thus, on the 21st of May, 1542, died "the valorous, virtuous, and valiant Captain Don Ferdinand de Soto," (as the Portuguese Companion calls him,) " whom fortune advanced as it useth to do others, that he might have the higher fall." Luys de Moscoso determined to conceal his death from the natives, for Soto had made them believe that the Christians were immortal, and that he had a supernatural knowledge of all that passed among them. The corpse was at first interred within the town, but as the Indians suspiciously regarded the spot where it lay, it was secretly exhumed, wrapped in mantles full of sand, and at midnight sunk in the middle of the river. " The discoverer of the Missis- sippi," finely says Mr. Bancroft, " slept beneath its waters : he had crossed a large portion of the continent in search of gold, and found nothing so remark- able as his burial-place." To reach New Spain was now the general desire, but the Spaniards knew not whether to embark on the river or to trace its banks. They were ignorant of its course, they might be hurried over cataracts or be led into a wrong direction, and there were more resources on shore. There, too, they might yet realize some of the golden visions which had long tormented them. They resolved therefore to go by land, but their resolution only added to the sum of their sufferings ; the Indian guides misled them ; tortured or torn by dogs, their fidelity to their Caciques was unshaken. After a long and weary wandering as far as the skirts of the prairies, the Spaniards regained the Mississippi. Dissensions and sickness added to their distress ; the fatal report of Cabeca de Vaca still haunted the minds of the more adventurous, but the majority determined to build brigantines and to proceed by water, though fearing with reason lest it should happen to them as to Narvaez, who foundered at sea with his wretched barks. A Genoese who understood ship-building was providentially among them ; " without whom," says the eye-witness, "they had never come out of that country." With the perse- verance of men whose life was on a cast, they toiled till they had completed seven crazy brigantines, with which (harassed by the Indians on the way) they descended the Mississippi to the Gulf, and creeping cautiously around the coast, the forlorn remnant of Soto's gallant company, after losing one of their vessels in a storm, at length arrived in the river of Panuco, and from thence repaired to Mexico. 18 HISTORY OF AMERICA A. D. 1502. cii^ap. Three centuries have elapsed since these events took place, and mighty changes have taken place in the valley of the Mississippi ! The red races which then wandered at will over its tangled forests and boundless prairies have gradually receded, while the white have advanced, pushing the outposts of their settlements even to the confines of the Rocky Mountains, soon to be joined to those of the gold regions of California. This vast country is rapidly filling up, and forming one compact and stupendous confederation. There is just now a mingling of the past and present : the red men still linger upon the soil, and traces of their manners, and customs, and superstitions still sur- vive, side by side with the evidences of an advancing civilization. After the death of Roberval, Francis I. interested himself no further in America; and France, during the succeeding reigns of Francis II. and Charles IX., shaken to its foundation by civil wars, seemed entirely to have abandoned all idea of colonization. Admiral Coligny, desirous at once of providing a safe asylum for the persecuted Huguenots, and of sharing in the reputed wealth of Brazil, had proposed to Henry II. an enterprise in concert with the Portuguese, which, however, terminated unfavourably, from the jealousy of the latter. He now turned his attention to Florida, where no ob- stacles seemed to oppose his plan of a permanent settlement, to be entirely composed of Protestants. And to this plan Charles IX. listened the more favourably, says Charlevoix, because he was secretly desirous to purge his kingdom of these detested heretics. The first expedition sent out by the Admiral was commanded by Jean de Ribaut, an experienced naval officer and zealous Huguenot. Leaving Dieppe with two ships, in Feb. 1562, he made the coast of Florida. He first entered the river of May, now the St. John's, and raised a small column, on which he engraved the arms of France. The Jordan, or Combahee, was however his object, and running to the northward in search of it,. he entered the noble harbour of Port Royal, where he commenced a settlement, and built a small fort, called, after the sovereign of France, Charles Fort, (Carolina,) after which the country was subsequently called. Ribaut returned to France to seek for reinforcements. In the mean while his deputy neglected to plant crops, and his conduct was so overbearing that he was cut off by a conspiracy. To add to the distress of the little handful of twenty-six colonists, the fort and maga- zines were destroyed by fire, and, with famine staring them in the face, they had no alternative but to build a frail vessel and return to France. The fate they dreaded on land, befell them on the ocean, — they were reduced to the horrors of cannibalism, and such of them as survived were finally picked up by an English vessel, which landed most of them in France. The civil war which broke out in that kingdom shortly after their depar- ture, had prevented the Admiral from attending to his colony. But no sooner was a hollow peace established between the contending parties, than he solicited the king anew for his assistance, and three vessels and some pecuniary assistance were afforded him. Rene" de Laudronniere, another naval officer of merit, who had accompanied Ribaut, was the commander of this second HISTORY OF AMERICA. 19 squadron. Every precaution was taken to insure success and religious unity, chap. Several young men of family formed part of the expedition, and some veteran : — soldiers, as well as skilful artificers, were selected, while Coligny took care that not a single Catholic should accompany the armament. Arrived at the river of May, the savages, repeating often the welcome word ami, received them courteously, conducting them to the pillar set up by Ribaut, which was crowned with garlands, surrounded with baskets of offer- ings, and regarded, as well as the French themselves, with a superstitious reverence and respect. Laudronniere ascended an eminence, the sight was lovely and inviting, but there were not a few among the adventurers whom the thirst for gold, rather than a peaceful settlement, had attracted to the enterprise. A bar of silver had been presented by the chief Saturiora to Laudronniere ; he eagerly inquired whence it came ; the former, engaged in a war with a neighbouring chief, would have artfully engaged the assistance of the French, promising to conduct them to the shores whence it was extracted. Laudronniere, however, wisely determined first to establish a firm footing in the country, and as Charles Fort, the settlement of Ribaut, appeared disad- vantageously placed, the colonists decided on placing the new stronghold on the lovely banks of the May. " At break of day," says Laudronniere, " I com- manded a trumpet to be sounded, to give God thanks for our safe and happy arrival ; we sang a psalm of thanksgiving unto God, beseeching the continu- ance of his goodness, that all might turn to his glory and the advancement of our king." The prayer ended, every man began to take courage. A fort was built, and Laudronniere sent one of the vessels to France, to seek reinforce- ments, and carry the news of his success. "While Laudronniere was endeavouring to extend his knowledge of the interior, a mutiny broke out at the fort. The volunteers of family, disgusted at being subjected, like the rest, to the toils necessary for the foundation of a colony, and others who desired to engage in search for gold, or enter upon some enterprise that would enrich them for life, had organized a formidable conspiracy. The Governor behaved with prudence and spirit — some were sent back to France, others sent to explore the country. But all his pre- cautions were vain. A band of insurgents, who had determined upon a piratical enterprise against the Spaniards, rose suddenly upon Laudronniere, and compelled him, at the point of the dagger, to sign a commission they had prepared ; they then departed with two vessels, one of which was lost, the other, after different acts of piracy had been committed, was taken by the Spanish Governor of Jamaica ; a few escaped in a boat and returned to the fort, but these Laudronniere promptly seized and executed. In the mean time, the neglect to cultivate the soil had reduced the settlers to the utmost distress, and they were constructing barks to return home, when they descried four sails, and never doubting but that they were those of vessels from France, were giving way to ecstasies of joy, when they discovered that the ships were those of an English cruiser, Sir John Hawkins, of evil reputa- tion, as having been the first to introduce slaves into America, with a cargo of b 2 A. D. 1565. &0 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, which he was then on his way thither. This nefarious commerce was not, however, then regarded as infamous ; the English commander, far from taking advantage of the miserable plight of the French settlers, behaved to them with the greatest kindness. He went to shore unarmed. Lau- dronniere received him at a dinner, — a few fowls had been reserved for a pressing occasion, bread and wine, which the colonists had not tasted for many months, were furnished from the English ships, and this cordial inter- course so won upon Hawkins, that after furnishing them with provisions, he left one of his ships at their disposal, after offering to transport them back to France. At this juncture Eibaut suddenly arrived to assume the command of the colony, and Laudronniere, against whom complaint had been made, determined to return to France. It might have been fondly hoped that the newly delivered settlers would now have been free from all fear of persecution on account of their religion, and that here they would have been permitted to live in peace, but a fear- ful doom was hanging over them, the cruelty which had driven them from their homes followed them even on these remotest shores. Pedro de Melendez, a Spanish captain, who had served against the Pro- testants in the Low Countries, was a man animated by the wildest enthu- siasm for the spread of the Catholic faith, and had been actively engaged in carrying into effect the decrees of the Holy office ; his zeal in the pur- suit of these objects had gained him the confidence of the court of Spain. Philip II. was very desirous of colonizing Florida, to which he laid claim as a discovery of his subjects, and which he regarded as a valuable possession of his crown. Melendez, who was eager to undertake the work, appeared to him a suitable agent. The salvation of the Indians by an enforced reception of the Catholic faith, was declared by him, and perhaps with sincerity, to be his principal motive for undertaking the enterprise. He was to be consti- tuted hereditary Governor of an immense territory, and was to invade the country, and furnish forth a body of settlers at his own expense. While en- gaged in these preparations, he received news that the Huguenots had an- ticipated him in the formation of a settlement, and that Ribaut was on his way thither to carry out reinforcements. This circumstance invested the enter- prise of Melendez with the additional character of a crusade to exterminate heresy, and so many volunteers hastened to join his standard, that he soon collected a considerable force, amongst whom were twelve monks of St. Francis, eleven priests, a friar of the Order of Mercy, five ecclesiastics, and five Jesuits, whose office it was to animate the zeal and inflame to fierceness the religious passions of the adventurers. The ships of Melendez were scattered by tempests, and it was with but a portion of his armament that he reached the shores of Florida. After sailing some days along the coast, he landed at the mouth of the river, to which, having made land on the day of St. Augustine, he gave the name of that Saint. From the Indians he learned^ that the forces of Ribaut were not far distant, and shortly after he fell in with their ships. The French uneasily A. D. 1565. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 21 inquired his name and purposes. To this he replied, "I am Pedro de chap. Melendez, general of the fleet of his Catholic Majesty, Philip II. I am come here to hang or put to death all Lutherans whatsoever. My orders are strict, and when I am master of your ships I shall execute them to the letter. If there be among you any Catholic I shall spare him, but for the heretics — they shall all die." This atrocious manifesto was answered by the French with a burst of indignant execration, which inflamed the fury of Melendez, and he would have ordered the attack on the instant, but was overruled by the more prudent, while Kibaut retired unmolested with his ships. On the return of the Spaniards to the post they had chosen, they proceeded with solemn ceremonies to lay the foundations of the town of St. Augustine, the most ancient on the soil of the United States. Melendez was ill at ease, his force was weak, and he feared lest the French should return with rein- forcements, destroy his vessels in the river, and cut off his exposed colonists. Neither were his apprehensions unfounded, for the fiery Eibaut, in spite of the remonstrances of those who advised him to strengthen his fortifications, and not to stake all upon a single cast, determined at once to seek out and destroy his enemy. He was already within sight of the Spanish ships, when the ebbing tide forced him to suspend his attack, and a sudden hurricane drove his vessels out to sea. Melendez was saved; nor did he doubt that a special interposition of Heaven had been vouchsafed in answer to the suppli- cations of the true believers. Mass was again said and a council called, at which he urged that it would be unfaithfulness of the visible succour from above to hesitate in the work of exterminating the Lutherans, and he boldly proposed to them to surprise the settlement of Laudronniere. His fierce enthusiasm triumphed over all opposition, and after struggling four days through the pathless swamps, in the obscurity of dawn they drew near to the French fort. The watch, unsuspicious of danger, was negligent ; with a sudden onset the Spaniards broke through the feeble ramparts, and indulged their religious animosities in a promiscuous massacre. Women, children, and sick persons were involved in the same ruthless butchery. Some who trusted to the deceitful promises of the Spaniards were instantly killed, others escaped in the confusion, and after lingering among the swamps in sight of their ruined settlement and slaughtered comrades, contrived to get on board a French vessel in the river, commanded by the younger Eibaut, who, panic-struck, insisted on returning to France. The savage Melendez had now triumphed, the clergy formed a procession in his honour, the cross was borne by priests chanting the Te Deum and giving God thanks for the providential circum- stances which had at once rescued themselves from peril, and enabled them to glorify him by the destruction of the heretics. Meanwhile the storm that had prevented Bibaut from attacking the Spaniards, after raging for several days, had driven the whole of his vessels upon the coast of Florida. "With his shipwrecked men he toiled painfully along the desolate shore in the direction of his ill-fated colony. Famished and exhausted, they at length approached the fort, where their reviving spirits A. D. 1567 22 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ii a p. suddenly fell as they beheld the Spanish flag displayed upon its ramparts. Though justly dreading to fill into the hands of men whose religion, as they well knew, could excuse the breach of promises made to heretics, they might yet have indulged the hope that, destitute of every succour as they were, the utter wretchedness of their situation would move the Spaniards to mercy. But the cruel and wily Melendez thirsted for their blood, and longed to consummate the extermination of the Huguenots by this final sacrifice. No sooner had they, confiding in his ambiguous promises, surrendered them- selves, than they were marched, with their hands bound, to St. Augustine. Melendez, with savage satisfaction, drew a line with his sword around them, and in this helpless condition they were immediately butchered. Their bodies, after being mangled with the wanton ferocity of hate, were then sus- pended to a tree, with the inscription, " Not because they are Frenchmen, but because they are heretics and enemies of God." Melendez afterwards returned to Spain. Nearly nine hundred Frenchmen were supposed to have thus fallen victims to the Spaniards, at a time when not even a pretence of war existed between their respective countries. The spirit of an insulted nation would at once have demanded retribution, but that the same bigotry that had prompted the horrid deed was rampant in the French court, which remained entirely passive. It was even questioned, whether they had not privately given notice of Bibaut's expedition to the Spaniards. And thus this outrage would have remained unavenged, but for the patriotic daring of a private citizen. Dominic de Gourges, himself a Ca- tholic, had already suffered from the cruelty of the Spaniards. A brave man and taken in open fight, he had been ignominiously condemned by them to the galleys : the ship in which he was a rower was taken by the Turks, and rescued again by the Knights of Malta ; and thus he was restored once more to his native soil. He sold his property, and, with the assistance of zealous friends, privately equipped three vessels, constructed to ascend the rivers. Embarking with eighty sailors and a hundred and fifty soldiers, and provided with a roving commission to mask his purpose, it was not till he arrived at Cuba that he acquainted his companions with the real object of his expedition. In a burning speech, he then reminded them of the atrocious cruelties of the Spaniards, of the shameful impunity in which they gloried, and earnestly be- sought them to assist him in inflicting that retribution demanded by their crimes, and to compass which he had sold his own estate, and embarked his all upon the cast. His words excited the patriotic enthusiasm of the whole company, and they vowed to follow him to the death. On landing near the river May, they found that the natives, already disgusted with the Spaniards, were ready to co-operate with them in their proposed attack. One of the Spanish forts they carried by storm ; of sixty Spaniards who defended it, but a handful escaped ; all in the second were slain ; and De Gourges at length became master of the whole settlement. Collecting then his prisoners, and setting before them the atrocities that had brought down upon them this signal retribution, he hanged them upon the same trees to which they had suspended A. D. 1567. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 23 the French, with the following superscription, " This I do not as to Spaniards chap. or to mariners — but to traitors, robbers, and murderers." The object of his expedition accomplished, he returned to La Rochelle, where his countrymen received him with enthusiasm, though the court looked coldly on his exploit, and the Spaniards used every interest to effect his de- struction. But so brave a subject could not be finally neglected, and he was at length about to engage in honourable service, when his gallant career was terminated by a sudden death. CHAPTER II. GILBERT'S EXPEDITION TO NEWFOUNDLAND. — DISCOVERY OF VIRGINIA, AND FIRST ATTEMPTS AT ITS COLONIZATION. — GOSNOLD'S VOYAGES. The reign of Queen Elizabeth is the period fixed upon by all writers as cha p that wherein the spirit of English enterprise, which had been steadily gaining ground, though repressed and interrupted by various discouragements, attained a sudden development and became permanently rooted in the national mind. " The queen's attentive economy," observes Robertson, " which exempted her subjects from the burden of taxes oppressive to trade, the popularity of her administration, were all favourable to commercial enterprise, and called it forth into vigorous exertion. Perceiving that the security of a kingdom environed by the sea depended ^n its naval force, she began her government with adding to the number and strength of the royal navy; she filled her arsenals with stores, built several ships of great force, by all which means the skill of English artificers was improved, the number of sailors increased, and the attention of the public turned to the navy, as the most important national object." This was further increased by the successful efforts to contend with the power of Philip II., bent upon the destruction of Protestantism ; and the courage which had foiled the Armada was employed in emulating the exploits of the Spanish adventurers, and in intercepting rich galleons laden with the new-found wealth of America. Commerce rapidly extended her bound- aries, the trade with Russia opened by Chancelour's voyage was followed up, and the merchant adventurers penetrated into Persia and the East. But the discovery of the North-west passage still continued to be the great object by which the more hardy and ambitious mariners sought to attain fame, and open a shorter path to the riches of the Indies. Nor had the search after gold, fatal to so many adventurers, as yet begun to give place to wise plans 11. A. D. 1558. 24 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of colonization. The idea of a North-east passage, which at the suggestion of ' — Cabot had been vainly attempted by Willoughby, was renounced, and Martin to 1580. Frobisher, an officer of reputation, determined on another attempt to pene- trate by the North-west. An argument in favour of its practicability, visionary indeed, but full of ingenious acuteness and maritime experience, had been written by Sir Humphrey Gilbert. Frobisher was poor ; but at length, through the patronage of Dudley, Earl of Warwick, he was enabled to equip two small barks and a pinnace. As his little armament dropped down the Thames, Elizabeth, from the palace at Greenwich, waved her hand and vouchsafed a message of encouragement. In his first voyage he penetrated as far as the extremity of Hudson's Bay, and believed that the long-wished- for passage was at length to be attained. Some earth that he brought home with him appeared to contain gold ; avarice supplied what was refused to the love of discovery ; and a fleet, among which the queen sent a ship of her own, speedily departed to seek for the wealth of Peru among the rigours of the Polar seas. It returned bootless, but the illusion was not so easily dis- sipated. A larger armament was now equipped; adventurers of all ranks hastened to join in so promising a plan of colonization. Amidst all the terrors of the Northern Ocean — its fogs, currents, and enormous icebergs, among which their vessels were entangled, the vain research was continued ; and though no colony was established, the ships freighted with the earth containing the visionary wealth, returned in the confident belief that the North-west pas- sage might yet be attained. Meanwhile, Sir Francis Drake, in the course of his circumnavigation of the globe, made another attempt to penetrate the opposite side of the continent with no better success. It was on this occasion that he touched at and left those golden descriptions of California, which have been of late so marvellously verified. To these abortive enterprises succeeded plans of colonization, which, though far more wisely framed, were destined to prove no less unfortunate in the issue. Sir Humphrey Gilbert has already been mentioned as the author of a discourse concerning the practicability of the North-west passage. He was distinguished as a soldier and a patriot, no less than as a lover of geographical science. His motives in the plantation of a colony were those of a " virtuous and heroical mind." He had no difficulty in obtaining a patent from Elizabeth, framed rather, it must be confessed^ in accordance with the high notions of authority prevalent in England during the sixteenth century, than with more recent ideas of the rights of freemen : — an exclusive right of property in the lands he might discover, subject to the payment to the crown of one fifth of any treasure that might be found ; the sole jurisdiction, both criminal as well as civil, though with the limitation, that whoever settled there should enjoy all the privileges of free denizens and natives of England, were its principal conditions. He invested a large portion of his property in the enterprise, which, owing to dissensions among the volunteer adventurers, was a failure from its very commencement ; and when Gilbert at length sailed with a weakened armament, he encountered a storm, in which one of his ships A.D.I 579. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 25 was lost, and, it is also supposed, a Spanish squadron of superior force ; dis- chap. asters which compelled him to return home disappointed but not disheartened. We are now, for the first time, introduced to one of the most illustrious names of England in connexion with the work of American colonization. " As a statesman, a navigator, and a writer of original and varied genius," observes Tytler, " Sir "Walter Raleigh is connected with all that is interesting in per- haps the most interesting period of English history — the reign of Elizabeth ; and so much was he the child of enterprise and the sport of vicissitude, that he who sits down to write his life, finds himself, without departing from the severe simplicity of truth, surrounded with lights almost as glowing as those of romance." The younger son of an ancient but not wealthy family, seated on the coast of Devonshire, he had early imbibed a love of the sea, and his natural thirst for adventure was excited by his boyish perusal of the glowing accounts of Spanish enterprise in America. Distinguished at college for his wit and genius, he yet preferred to the pursuits of learning the more exciting scenes of war. The Protestants of France, under the Prince de Conde and Admiral Coligny, were struggling in defence of their religious liberties. Such a cause awakened the sympathy of Elizabeth, who authorized a kinsman of Raleigh to raise a troop of volunteers, in which the young adventurer en- rolled himself. Having shared in the struggle, he returned to England, when the peace of 1576 secured to the French Protestants the free exercise of their religion. He next joined the force sent by Elizabeth to assist the Protestants of the Netherlands in their endeavour to throw off the yoke of Spain. In the midst of these stirring occupations, Raleigh had found leisure to study still further the subjects which had engaged his earliest atten- tion ; he had probably fallen in with various adventurers who had returned from the New World, and, it is supposed, had seen the chart and letters of Verezzani. Thus predisposed to embrace the first opportunity that offered of trying his fortune in schemes of discovery, it is not surprising that he was induced by Sir Humphrey Gilbert, his step-brother, to abandon his military pursuits for a more dazzling scene of enterprise. He is supposed to have accompanied Gilbert on his first voyage, in 1579, but a career of courtly favour having opened to him, he was unable to leave its pursuit to engage personally in the second, to which, however, he lent the utmost assistance in his power, building, at his own expense, and under his own eye, the largest ship in the squadron, of 200 tons, which bore his name. His growing influence with Elizabeth enabled him to interest her deeply in the voyage ; she commissioned him to send a token to Sir Humphrey — an image of " an anchor guided by a lady," wishing him as much success and safety as if she were there in person, and desiring him to leave his portrait for her with Raleigh. This flattering intelligence the favourite conveys in a letter from court to his step-brother, now about to embark, " committing him to the will of God, who sends us such life or death as he shall please or hath appointed." — They were never to meet again. How little can courage or conduct insure the result of any enterprise ! E 26 HISTORY OF AMERICA. "With, a fleet of five ships and barks, the Delight, Raleigh, Golden Hind ii. ' Swallow, and Squirrel, in which a large body of men were embarked, Gilbert a.d. 1583. set sail in June, 1583, on his second expedition. On reaching Newfoundland, he took possession of it in the name of Elizabeth ; a pillar with the arms of Eng- land was raised, and, after the feudal custom, the royal charter was read, and a sod and turf of the soil delivered to the admiral. The mutinous and dis- orderly conduct of many of his sailors had already been a trying obstacle. As they steered towards the south, to " bring the whole land within compass of the patent," the principal ship, owing to their carelessness, struck upon a shoal and was totally lost ; nearly a hundred men perishing with her, among whom were the Hungarian, Parmenius, (called Budseus, from his native city,) who was to have been the chronicler of the expedition, as well as " their Saxon refiner and discoverer of inestimable riches," and the valuable papers of the admiral. They now decided on returning home ; the autumnal gales were already beginning to render the navigation perilous for such small ves- sels ; yet Sir Humphrey, who had sailed in the Squirrel, their " frigate of ten tons," contrary to all remonstrance, persisted in remaining with his brave shipmates, rather than go on board the larger vessel. The two ships sailed in company, Gilbert from time to time repairing on board the Hind, and en- couraging his companions with prospects of future success. The weather now became frightful ; and the oldest sailors never remembered more mountainous and terrific surges. On Monday, the 9th of September, in the afternoon, the Squirrel, which was overcharged with artillery and deck-hamper, was nearly ingulfed by a heavy sea, from which she escaped as by miracle. As she emerged from the watery abyss, a shout of surprise and thanksgiving burst from her decks ; and Gilbert, seated on the stern with a book in his hand, calmly exclaimed, when the roll of the waves brought them within hearing of those on board the other vessel, " We are as near to heaven by sea as by land," — the last words he was ever heard to utter. At midnight, the Squirrel being somewhat ahead, those on the watch, on board the Hind, observing her lights to disappear in an instant amidst the blackness of the swell, cried out that the general was lost — the miniature frigate had suddenly foundered. The Hind, after narrowly escaping the tempestuous weather, at length, reached Falmouth in safety, bearing the disastrous tidings. The melancholy fate of his step-brother did not withhold Raleigh from following out his scheme of discovery and colonization, for partly from his intercourse with Spanish sailors, and perhaps from having seen when in France the letter and maps of Verezzani, he was induced to turn his atten- tion to a milder clime, attained too by a less perilous course of navigation. Concluding from different indications that Florida formed but part of an extensive continent, he obtained, in 1584, an ample patent from the queen, granting him the possession of all the countries he should succeed in discover- ing, accompanied with unlimited and despotic powers of jurisdiction, on con- dition of reserving to the crown a fifth part of the gold or silver ore which might be found. The expedition consisted of two ships, commanded by the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 27 Captains Philip Amadis and Arthur Barlow, who, according to the in- chap. structions given them by Raleigh, kept to the south-east, and by the cir- . — cuitous route of the Canaries and West Indies, at length approached the ex- pected continent, at a season when the blue expanse of ocean lay calm and slumbering, and the gay shores, redolent of delicious odours brought off by the gentle breezes, inspired an intoxicating luxury of sensation. " The second of July," says one of the discoverers, " we found shoal water, where we smelt so sweet and strong a smell, as if we had been in the midst of some delicate garden abounding with all kinds of odoriferous flowers, by which we were assured that the land could not be far distant." Keeping good watch, and slackening sail, they ran along the coast for a hundred and twenty miles in quest of a haven, and entering the first, after " thankes given to God for their safe arrival," manned their boats, and went ashore to view the countfy, and take possession of it in the queen's name, and for the use of Sir Walter Raleigh, "according to her Majesty's letters patent." They were first struck, like Verezzani, with the luxuriance of the wild grapes, so that the very beating and surge of the sea overflowed them, and on the green soil on the hills and plains, on every little shrub, and climbing towards the tops of high cedars, they were equally abundant, " myself," says the narrator, " hav- ing seen those parts of Europe that most abound, find such difference as were incredible to be written." On ascending the hills, they found that they had landed on an island, being that of Wocoken. Its valleys were filled with the noblest cedars, and having discharged their harquebuss, such a flock of cranes arose under them, " with a sound as if an armie of men had shouted all together." The woods abounded with incredible numbers of deer, conies, hares, and fowl. They remained two days before they saw any of the natives, when a small canoe with three Indians approached ; one of the natives, fearlessly accosting them, was persuaded to go on board, " never making any shew of fear or doubt." After receiving some trifling gifts, he went fishing in his bark, and returning to the ships, presented them with his load. The next day, the king's brother, Granganimeo, visited them with his retinue. Causing mats to be placed on the shore, he seated himself to await the arrival of the English. " When we came on shore with our weapons," says the narrator, " he never moved, nor mistrusted any harm to be offered, but sitting still, beckoned us to come and sit by him ; and being set, he made all signs of joy and welcome, striking on his head and breast, and afterwards on ours, to shew that we were all one, smiling and making shew, the best he could, of all love and familiarity. After he had made a long speech to us, we made him some presents, which he received very thankfully. None of the others durst speak all this time, only the four at the other end spake in one another's ear very softly." Such was the first interview between the natives and their visitors, presenting a striking contrast to the mutual animosities that too soon succeeded. After a day or two, a traffic sprung up, and Granganimeo came on board, e 2 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. " drank wine and eat of our bread," accompanied by his wife, daughter, and two or three children. His wife was very handsome, of middle stature, and a. d. 1584. yer y bagful . s h e was Messed in furred skins, and her forehead was banded with white coral, with ornaments of pearl hanging down to her waist. The intercourse now increased, mutual presents were made, Granganimeo sent them every day " a brace or two of fat bucks, conies, hares, fish the best in the world, and fruits in abundance." A party now went in the boats to ex- plore, the Island of Roanoke was discovered, upon which they found a village of nice houses built of cedars, and defended with an enclosure of sharp trees. Here, says the narrator, " the wife of Granganimeo came running out to meet us, very cheerfully and friendly, her husband being absent from the village ; some of her people she commanded to draw our boat ashore for the beating of the billows, and others to carry them ashore through the surf. After having their wet garments dried, and receiving in the outer chanrber the old oriental hospitality of " washing the feet" by attendant women, they were feasted within with " wheat like furmenty, venison, and fish both broiled and sodden, and boiled, with herbs and fruits " — the Indian princess " taking great pains to see all things ordered in the best manner she could. We found the people most gentle, loving, and faithful, void of all guile, and living after the manner of the golden age. While we were at meat, there came in at the gates two or three men with their bows and arrows from hunt- ing, whom when we espied, we began to look one towards another, and offered to reach our weapons ; but as soon as she espied our mistrust, she was very much moved, and caused some of her menne to run out, and take away their bows and arrows and break them, and withal beat the poor fellows out of the gate again. When we departed in the evening and would not tarry all night, she was very sorry, and gave us into our boat our supper half- dressed, pots and all, and brought us to our boat side, on which we lay all night, removing the same a pretty distance from the shore. She, perceiving our jealousy, was much grieved, and sent divers men and thirty women to sit all night on the bank-side by us, and sent us into our boats fine mats to cover us from the rain, using very many words to entreat us to rest in their houses. But because we were few men, and if we had miscarried the voyage had been in great danger, we durst not adventure anything, although there was no cause of doubt, for a more kind and loving people there cannot be found in the world, as far as we have hitherto had trial." Such was the treatment re- ceived by the English visitors at the hands of this countrywoman of the generous Pocahontas. Satisfied with their discovery, they contented themselves with a very limited exploration, and soon after returned to England, carrying with them " two of the savages being lustie men, whose names were Wanchese and Manteo," the latter of whom figures honourably in the future history of the colony. Thus flattering to his judgment and promising to his hopes was the first result of Raleigh's expedition, and Queen Elizabeth, who, no less delighted, shortly after bestowed upon him the then rare honour of knighthood, desired A. D. 15&4. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 29 that the new-discovered country should, in allusion to her state of life, be chap. called Virginia ; while a lucrative monopoly for the sale of wines, shortly after bestowed upon Sir Walter, enabled him to carry out the settlement of a colony on the lands conferred on him by his patent. He now proceeded to fit out a squadron of seven vessels, the command of which he bestowed upon his relative, Sir Richard Grenville, who had been present at the decisive battle of Lepanto, in which Cervantes was taken prisoner, and who afterwards closed a life of heroic adventure by fighting with his single ship a squadron of fifteen Spanish vessels, for as many hours, till he died covered with glorious wounds. The expense of this expedition was shared by other adventurers, among whom was Thomas Cavendish, who afterwards circumnavigated the globe. It numbered a hundred and eighty men, with Ralph Lane for captain and Amadas as his deputy, and was accompanied by Heriot, a mathe- matician of note, who on his return wrote an admirable account of the country. By way of Porto Rico and Hispaniola, (where, owing, as they imagined, to their imposing force, they were welcomed and entertained by the Spanish governor, at the same time that they were capturing the vessels of that nation at sea,) they made, on the 20th of June, the mainland of Florida, and after a narrow escape from shipwreck upon Cape Fear, came, on the 26th, to an anchor at Wocoken. Lane was a gallant man, afterwards knighted by Eliza- beth for his valour, but he possessed rather the qualities of the ardent soldier than of the patient and wary colonist. Hasty in resolve, and " sudden and quick in quarrel," his rash and hostile conduct towards the Indians was the source of incalculable miseries, to this and other succeeding expedi- tions. But the first deadly offence was given by Grenville himself. A party was sent on shore, accompanied by Manteo, and all might have gone well, but for an act of hasty revenge, the first probably which tended to arouse uneasy and suspicious thoughts in the breasts of the confiding Indians. A savage had been tempted to steal a silver cup, its promised restoration was delayed, upon which the English "burnt and spoiled their corn and towne, all the people being fled." Notwithstanding, on the 29th, Granganimeo came on board with Manteo. The colonists being landed, Grenville, after a short stay, and the collection of a cargo of pearls and skins, returned to Eng- land, capturing on the way a Spanish ship richly laden, " boarding her with a boat made with boards of chests, which fell asunder and sank at the ship's side, as soon as ever he and his men were out of it." With this prize he returned to Plymouth. After this first experience of their hasty cruelty, the Indians, anxious to get rid of the settlers whom they now learned both to hate and fear, began to form secret combinations against them. Lane, who was evidently but little qualified for his post, being alternately severe and credulous, received such information from one of the chiefs, " whose best beloved son" he observes, " i" had prisoner with me" as induced him to ascend the Roanoke, partly in quest of pearls, mineral treasures, and partly to explore the interior. The ad- venture was disastrous ; the boats made slow progress against the rapidity of the SO HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, current; the banks were deserted, and no provisions to be obtained; yet all ■ — agreed not to abandon the enterprise while a half-pint of corn remained for ' each man ; moreover they determined that they would kill their " two mastives, upon the pottage of which, with sassafras leaves, (if the worst fell out,) they would make shift to live two dayes." Having been treacherously attacked by the Indians, and having consumed the " dogges porridge that they had bespoken for themselves " and returned to the river's mouth, and their boats being unable to cross the sound on ac- count of a storm " on Easter Eve, which was fasted very truly," they were reduced to the sassafras without the animal seasoning, " the like whereof," observes Lane, " was never before used for a meate as I thinke." The next morning they arrived at Roanoke famished and disheartened. The natives now were about to resort to the expedient of leaving the lands uncultivated, when nothing could have prevented the destruction of the English, who had neither weirs for taking fish, nor a grain of seed corn. This plan was, however, overruled by one of the chiefs ; — a supply was sown, which put the settlers " in marvellous comfort ; " for if they could pass from April to July, which was to have been the beginning of the harvest, then a new supply from England or their own store would be ready to maintain them, fearing only the two intervening months, when, as Lane observed, " like the starving horse in the stable, with the growing grass, we might very well starve ourselves." But other sources of suspicion arose. Lane believed that a wide-spread conspiracy was being organized ; a large body were to assem- ble at Roanoke in June, and crush the colonists, whom they still regarded with mingled awe and hatred. Whether right or wrong in this belief, Lane determined to be beforehand with his enemies, and suddenly appeared among them. He had ordered the master of the light horsemen to intercept their canoes ; one of these was surprised ; the Indians took the alarm and flew to their bows ; the English attacked them with fire-arms, and the chief of the dreaded confederacy was killed. Scarcely a week had elapsed before Lane received a notice from Captain Stafford, stationed at the Admiral's Island, that he had discovered a great fleet of three-and-twenty sails, and advising him to stand upon his guard. The following day, Stafford himself appeared with a letter from Sir Francis Drake, the chief of the squadron, who, returning from an expedition against the Spanish settlements in the West Indies, with a fleet of twenty-three ves- sels, determined to visit the colony of his friend Raleigh, and carry home to him some news of its condition. No sight could have been so welcome to the weary colonists, surrounded by Indians of whom their bad policy had now made deadly enemies, and with famine staring them in the face, unless the succours from England, now delayed long past the time appointed, should immediately arrive. Drake generously supplied all the more pressing of their wants, gave them pinnaces and boats to survey the coast, with two officers to assist in the work, and even a vessel of sufficient burden to convey them to England in case of extremity. But everything combined to discourage the II. A. D. 155d. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 31 emigrants, already disgusted with the hardships and dangers of a new settle- chap. ment. Providence itself seemed to fight against them. A storm of four days' duration, from which the whole fleet, exposed on a harbourless coast, only escaped by standing out to sea, destroyed the bark and boats appointed for them. Deprived of this last resource, and despairing of assistance from Eng- land, the dejected settlers unanimously besought Drake to allow them to em- bark in his fleet. Raleigh, however, had neither forgotten nor neglected them, although the promised succours were unavoidably delayed, for scarcely had Lane departed, before a vessel arrived bearing ample supplies for the settlement ; but after long and vain search, finding no vestige of it, returned from its fruitless voyage. Shortly after, Sir Richard Grenville appeared with three well- furnished-vessels, principally fitted out at Raleigh's expense, and sought anew for traces of the vanished colonists. He found the settlement in ruins, yet in the face of this discouraging evidence he left behind a little band of fifteen men with provisions for two years, a sort of forlorn hope to maintain the claim of England and of Raleigh to this " paradise of the world," which had hitherto been the source of little but expense and disappointment. One thing, indeed, might partly seem to have indemnified Sir Walter for his losses and vexation. " It is asserted by Camden, that tobacco was now for the first time brought into England by these settlers ; and there can be little doubt that Lane had been directed to import it by his master, who must have seen it used in France during his residence there. There is a well-known tradition, that Sir Walter first began to smoke it privately in his study, and that his servant coming in with his tankard of ale and nutmeg, as he was intent upon his book, seeing the smoke issuing from his mouth, threw all the liquor in his face by way of ex- tinguishing the fire, and running down stairs, alarmed the family with piercing cries, that his master, before they could get up, would be burned to ashes. And this," continued Oldys, " has nothing in it more surprising than the mistake of those Virginians themselves, who, the first time they seized upon a quantity of gunpowder which belonged to the English colony, sowed it for grain, or the seed of some strange vegetable, in the earth, with full expecta- tion of reaping a plentiful crop of combustion by the next harvest to scatter their enemies." On another occasion it is said that Raleigh, conversing with his royal mis- tress upon the singular properties of this new and extraordinary herb, " as- sured her Majesty he had so well experienced the nature of it, that he could tell her of what weight even the smoke would be in any quantity proposed to be consumed. Her Majesty, fixing her thoughts upon the most impracticable part of the experiment, that of bounding the smoke in a balance, suspected that he put the traveller upon her, and would needs lay him a wager he could not solve the doubt : so he procured a quantity agreed upon to be throughly smoked ; then went to weighing, but it was of the ashes ; and in the conclu- sion, what was wanting in the prime weight of the tobacco, her Majesty did not deny to have been evaporated in smoke ; and further said, that ( many HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, labourers in the fire she had heard of who had turned their gold into smoke, ii but Raleigh was the €rst who had turned smoke into gold.' If his plans of colonization had proved ruinously expensive to Sir "Walter, on the other hand he had derived large supplies from the prizes taken by his vessels, and, though pressed with a multitude of important affairs at home, he determined upon another enterprise to Virginia. The accounts given of its natural beauty by Heriot, had outweighed the influence of the disastrous issue of Lane's expedition ; the love of adventure was fast increasing in Eng- land, and a body of 150 settlers, for the first time accompanied -by women, was soon collected together. The mania for gold-hunting was subsiding, and the fertility and beauty of the soil wisely led Raleigh, himself a lover of agriculture and gardening, to found an enduring state. A city named after himself was to be built, municipal regulations framed, and Mr. John White appointed as its governor, to whom, with twelve assistants, he gave a charter of incorporation. The body of colonists sailed from Portsmouth on the 26th April, 158T, and on the 22nd July anchored off the coast. They were no sooner arrived, than they hastened to Roanoke Island, in quest of the fifteen settlers left behind by Grenville. But these unfortunate men had been doomed to expiate the mismanagement of those who preceded them, and who had sown the fatal seed of hatred and suspicion in the Indian breast. Their huts were dismantled, wild deer were feeding on the melons and herbage which had overgrown the ruins — and their scattered bones were whitening on the beach. They had fallen an easy and a helpless prey to the vengeance of the Indians. Such a sight must have appalled the new settlers, and might well have appeared a presage of the doom which too surely awaited themselves. For widely different were the feelings with which they now landed in Virginia, from those which had animated its discoverers. Then all was fair and pro- mising ; the beauty of the country was only equalled by the unsuspecting confidence and kindness of the natives. That confidence had been converted into the deadliest hate, which had already compelled the disastrous retreat of the first expedition, and proved fatal to its successor. No wonder that dis- sension ere long broke out among the new colonists ; that the sanguine de- sired a more promising scene of enterprise, and others were desirous of re- turning home. Raleigh had designated the bay of Chesapeake as the site of his new city ; but the governor was compelled to remain at Roanoke, and repair the buildings of the murdered colonists. Manteo, the faithful ally of the English, had received Christian baptism, and the investiture of " Lord of Roanoke:" his kindred joyfully welcomed the settlers. But a disastrous accident had occurred. An English sailor who had gone fishing having been murdered by a band of hostile savages, White, guided by Manteo, with a body of men all bent on vengeance, stole by dark upon a body ot Indians, poured in a volley among them, and then found, to their horror, that they had at- tacked a party of their own allies. Little progress could be made in the work of colonization under so many discouraging circumstances ; supplies and re- A. D. 1500. HISTORY OF AMERICA. Od inforcements were *oon needed; and the emigrants besought White to return chap. to England and obtain them, while not a few determined to go back in his company. It was in the midst of these disasters that the governor's daughter, Mrs. Eleanor Dare, the wife of one of the assistants, gave birth to a daughter, the first child born of English parents on the soil of North America. The ill-fated infant was named after the colony, Virginia. The governor, yielding with reluctance to the general importunity, leaving behind him eighty-nine men, seventeen women, and eleven children, together with his daughter and grandchild, whom he was never to see again, at length set sail for England. But political events, as well as miserable casualties, conspired together to prevent his returning to succour his forlorn colony. On reaching Eng- land, he found the whole nation engrossed in its defence against the Spanish Armada, in which Sir Walter Raleigh bore so conspicuous a part. Amidst danger so imminent, and during a contest for the honour of the sovereign and the independence of the country, it was difficult to attend to a less important and more remote object. Yet Raleigh actually despatched to their assistance two vessels, but the ships' company were infected with the spirit of privateering, the issue was against them, their ships were disabled, and White had the misery of returning to England at a moment when he must have felt that any delay would be fatal. And so indeed it proved, for when, in 1590, he was at length enabled to go again in search of his colonists and daughter, it was only to mourn over their irreparable loss. When he step- ped again upon the fatal shore of Roanoke, nothing remained, beyond their ruined habitations, and a cross inscribed with the word " Croatan," to tell the fate of those whom he had left behind. This inscription suggested that the lost colonists had perhaps taken refuge with the Indians, of which a tradition afterwards existed, but though research was more than once made by suc- ceeding voyagers, at the instigation of Raleigh, no trace of them was ever afterwards discovered. White and his discouraged companions were com- pelled to abandon the idea of a settlement. A fatality seemed to hang over Virginia, the colonization of which had commenced under such glowing auspices. Raleigh had now, during several years, sent out various expeditions, at a fruitless expense of forty thousand pounds, and a sad sacrifice of human life. It is not surprising that, with diminished resources, he should be ready to assign his rights of property and patent, with large favourable concessions, to Sir Thomas Smith and a company of merchants in London, as he was now engaged in other schemes, especially that of penetrating into the heart of Guiana, where he fondly dreamed of repairing his shattered fortunes by taking possession of inexhaustible wealth flowing from the richest mines in the New World. His schemes were abor- tive and ruinous to his own interests, posterity was to reap the advantage, and to repay him for his sacrifices with an inheritance of lasting glory. The time was not yet ripe for a permanent state in Virginia which should embalm the memory of its founder and call its chief city after his name. The London company attempted no settlement of importance, but confined itself to a secure CHAP. 34 HISTORY OF AMERICA. and limited traffic, and thus, after a period of a hundred and six years 'il L ' from the time that Cabot discovered North America, and twenty from the a. d. 1602. time that Raleigh planted the first colony, there was not a single Englishman settled there at the demise of Queen Elizabeth, in the year one thousand six hundred and three. Yet, in 1602, the last year of that reign, the voyage made by Bartholomew Gosnold, who set out with a small bark to make a more direct course to the settlements in Virginia than that by the Canaries and the West Indies, was destined to have an important influence on the fate of that unfor- tunate colony. After sailing seven weeks, he reached the coast of Massa- chusetts Bay, and keeping to the south in search of a harbour, landed on the promontory of Cape Cod, so called from the quantity of that fish taken there, and the first, spot in New England ever trodden by English foot. Rounding the coast, and doubling " Point Care," or Sandy Point, the mariners reached Nantucket, and passing the promontory of Gay Head, which they called Dover Cliff, they entered the stately sound of " Buzzards Bay," which they called Gosnold's Hope. On the westernmost of the islands that studded it they determined to settle. They bestowed on it the name of Elizabeth ; and finding a small lake of fresh water, in the centre of which was a rocky islet, they fixed upon it as the site of a fort and storehouse, built with the stones from the neighbouring beach, and of which traces, now no longer discover- able, were seen by Belknap, in 1797. They were delighted with the noble vegetation, the luxuriance of the scented shrubs, the abundance of the wild grapes and strawberries ; and, in the first impulse of their satisfaction, deter- mined to remain there. But the smallness of their number, surrounded as they were with the Indians, the want of provisions, and the recollection of what had befallen the hapless settlers in Virginia, with the dissensions that sprung up, induced them, shortly after, to return to England. They arrived in less than four months from the time of their departure, without having suffered from any sickness ; and spread on all sides most favourable reports of the soil and climate of the new-discovered lands, while the new course they had held was shorter by one third than any by which the shores of America had been previously attained. A concurrence of circumstances so fortunate was not slow in reviving the dormant spirit of emigration. The accession of James I. was speedily fol- lowed by peace between England and Spain, the ardent spirits who had en- gaged in the struggle thirsted for a new scene of enterprise, and desired employ- ment for their hands and scope for their vices, while " sundry people within the realme distressed" were compelled to seek in the plantations of the New World for that subsistence denied them upon their native soil. Men of mer- cantile enterprise and geographical science became interested in the reports of Gosnold, and the merchants of Bristol were easily induced to equip two ves- sels to follow up the discoveries so happily commenced. The most active and efficacious promoter of this scheme was Richard Hakluyt, prebendary of Westminster, to whom England is more indebted for its American posses- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 35 sions than to any man of that age," and a man, as Mr. Bancroft observes, chap. "whose fame should be vindicated and asserted in the land he helped to '. — colonize." Formed under a kinsman of the same name, eminent for his naval and commercial knowledge, he imbibed a similar taste, and applied early to the study of geography and navigation. In order to excite his countrymen to naval enterprise, he published, in 1589, his valuable Collection of Voyages and Travels made by Englishmen, and translated into English some of the best accounts of the progress of the Spaniards and Portuguese. Consulted with respect to many of the attempts towards discovery or colonization, he corre- sponded with those who conducted them, directed their researches to proper objects, and published the history of their exploits. By the zealous endeavours of a person equally respected by men of rank and men of business, many of both orders formed an association to establish colonies in America, and peti- tioned the king for the sanction of his authority to warrant the execution of their plans. The " Speedwell " and " Discoverer," thus sent forth to authenticate the reports of Gosnold, confirmed them entirely, and, together with succeeding adventurers, visited the coast of Maine. Thus, in 1606, had the whole line of the American coast, with trifling exceptions, been traced from the shores of Labrador to the Gulf of Mexico. The bold and hardy pioneers of discovery had done their noble work, the first explorers, " the forlorn hope " of civil- ization, had made their graves in the new-found world, and the time was at hand when a new impulse was to be given to the spirit of colonization, and states were to be built up that should take a lasting possession of that great continent, the refuge of the persecuted and the asylum of the distressed, the stronghold of liberty for all succeeding generations. The English monarch, who had already turned his attention to improving the wilder parts of Scotland by the introduction of civilized colonies, listened readily to proposals which flattered his imaginary skill in the science of government ; he granted an ample charter to the company, and set himself to the congenial work of framing a code of laws for their especial regulation. His own prerogative was of course paramount. In these the regulations were cumbrous and unsuitable ; the superintendence of the colonial proceedings devolved upon a council in England, exclusively nominated by the monarch ; the local administration was confided to a council in the colony itself, whose appointment and continuance in office equally depended on the royal plea- sure. The emigrants themselves possessed not a shadow of self-government, and with the general reservation of their rights as Englishmen, were placed under a system equally impolitic and arbitrary. Individual enterprise was also paralysed, by a regulation that for five years at least the industry and commerce of the colony were to be conducted in a joint stock. The same conformity in religion enforced at home in order to check the growing spirit of Puritanism and religious liberty, was strictly enjoined in the colony. Com- mercial regulations, on the other hand, were encouraging; no duty was to be imposed upon imports necessary for the support of the colonists for a period r 2 A. D. 1606. 36 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of seven years, they were free to trade with other nations, and the duties levied on foreign commodities were to be employed for their own benefit for twenty- one years, after which period they reverted to the king. The tenure of land was also of the most favourable character. The extensive territory now discovered and claimed by the English was granted to two companies. " That portion of North America which stretches from the thirty-fourth to the forty-fifth degree of latitude, was divided into two districts nearly equal ; the one called the first or South colony of Vir- ginia, the other the second or North colony. Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George Summers, Richard Hakluyt, and their associates in London, were empowered to settle any part of the former, with a right of property for fifty miles along the coast from the place of their first habitation, and reaching a hundred miles into the interior. The latter district was allotted to a company formed of sundry knights, gentlemen, and merchants of the West of England. The preparations of the company were not answerable to the greatness of the territory conceded. A single vessel of a hundred tons, and two barks under the command of Captain Newport, were all that their means enabled them to fit out ; the number of emigrants was but one hundred and five, of whom but a small proportion were practical mechanics ; and the remainder, among whom were a son of the Duke of Northumberland and other men of family, but little fitted for the foundation of a colony. Many were " of tender education and no experience of martial accidents, expecting feather-beds and down pillows, taverns and alehouses, gold and silver and dissolute liberty, persons inflated with the importance of official situations multiplied in ridi- culous disproportion to an infant colony, projecting, verbal, and idle con- templators," as they are called by Smith, who, from his practical sense and the natural ascendency given by genius and experience, soon became the object of jealousy and proscription to the rest. The voyage was a scene of contention, which there was no authority to subdue, since the king, with that refinement of sagacity that he so loved to affect, had ordered that the box con- taining the names and instructions of the council should not be opened till after their arrival in Virginia. Four months were consumed by Newport's choice of the passage by way of the Canaries. On reaching the dangerous coast of Virginia, a fortunate gale, before which they were obliged to scud under bare poles, drove them to the northward of the old settlement, into the mouth of the spacious and magnificent bay of the Chesapeake : its southern and northern headlands were respectively called Cape Henry and Cape Charles, after the sons of the king, and Point Comfort was so called from the sheltered anchorage it afforded for their ships. This noble inlet, with its safe roadsteads and expanding shores, excited their admiration, and sailing up and exploring James River for a distance of fifty miles, they determined that here, and not at Roanoke, it behoved them to lay the foundation of their infant settlement, to which they gave the name of James Town — the oldest town founded by the English in the New "World, as were Annapolis and St. Augustine, by the French and Spaniards. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 37 When the members of the council were ascertained, they proceeded to chip. choose Wingfield president, and displayed at once their incapacity and jea- '. — lousy by meanly excluding Smith, who was one of those named, upon the pretext of sedition. His eminent qualities and practical activity had galled the envious and disturbed the slothful. No man possessed in a more re- markable degree the energy required in the founder of a colony, or had become more inured to a life of peril and adventure. From his very childhood he had a roving and romantic fancy, and, at thir- teen, sold satchel and books, and all that he had, to raise money to go to sea. At this juncture his father died, and he was left to the care of guardians more intent on improving his estate than him. By them he was bound to a merchant at Lynn, but not being sent, as he desired, to sea, he found means to go to France in the train of a son of Lord Willoughby. Hence, after be- coming initiated into warlike exercises, he repaired to Scotland in the hope of advancement, but returned disappointed to his native village of Willoughby. Here, finding no one of the same wild humour as himself, he retired, with Quixotic eccentricity, into a solitary glade surrounded with thick woods, built himself a pavilion of boughs, and occupied himself with a Marcus Aurelius, and Machiavel on the Art of War, and with the exercises of his horse and lance. Withdrawn from this solitude, his restless genius hurried him on the conti- nent. After a strange variety of adventures, he embarked at Marseilles for Italy, a storm arose, the trembling pilgrims cursed him for a Huguenot, and threw him overboard, like Jonah, to allay the tempest. He swam to a wild island, whence he was taken off by a French rover, who treated him with kindred gallantry of spirit : they fell in with and captured a rich Venetian ship, and Smith, set on shore with his share of the prize, found himself in a position to indulge his wandering humour. After visiting Italy, he went to Vienna, and entered himself as a volunteer against the Turks. His skill and bravery soon led to his promotion. At the siege of a strong town, a Turkish officer issued a challenge to single combat, and Smith was the fortunate cham- pion to whom it fell by lot to vindicate the honour of the Christian chivalry. He slew his opponent, as well as two others who desired to avenge his death, the Duke of Transylvania settled on him a pension, and gave him letters of nobility, with a shield bearing three Turks' heads for his arms, which were confirmed afterwards in the Herald's College in England. At the fatal battle of Rottenton, he was left for dead, and only recovered to be sold as a slave. A certain pasha bought him as a present to a favourite mistress of Tartar origin — young and handsome, he excited the interest and attachment of his possessor, who sent him to her brother to be treated kindly, till " time should make her mistress of herself." The brother misused him with such cruelty that Smith, in a fit of passion, beat out his brains. He fled into Russia, and after a variety of adventures, found again at Leipsic his former patron, the Duke of Transylvania, who treated him with much honour and made him a considerable present. Though anxious to return home, the ruling passion led him into fresh ad- II A. D. 1G07 38 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, ventures. After visiting Germany, France, and Spain, he passed over into Africa, where he had hoped to be engaged in service, visited the court of Morocco, and on his return by way of France to England, in a French galley, shared in the perils of a most desperate engagement with two Spanish men of war. Finding his native country in a state of tranquillity, and opening no prospect for his adventurous and erratic genius, he willingly embarked with Gosnold in the scheme for settling colonies in Virginia. A soldier of fortune in an age of licence, Smith was singularly free from the vices with which that profession was stained. He was neither actuated by sordid avarice nor disgraced by selfish debauchery. " He hated baseness, sloth, pride, and indignity more than any danger. He would suffer want rather than borrow, and starve sooner than not pay. He loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness more than death. Distinguished for his courage, he chose rather to lead, than send his soldiers into danger, and upon all hazardous and fatiguing expeditions always shared everything with his companions, and never desired them to do or undergo anything that he was not ready to do or undergo himself." Unlike most of the adven- turers of that age, his courage never degenerated into cruelty towards the Indians ; it was rather by dauntless bearing, clever and often humorous ex- pedient, and moral influence, that he overawed or beguiled them into sub- mission. While his love of discovery found scope in exploring the unknown boundaries of the Chesapeake, his management of the domestic interests of the colony was full of practical good sense. His energy gave to it life and subsistency, and his loss was its ruin and destruction. " In short," says his biographer, " he was a soldier of the true old English stamp, who fought not for gain and empty praise, but for his country's honour and the public good; and, with the most stern and invincible resolution, there was seldom seen a milder or more tender heart." The absurdity of the plea for ruining Smith was too transparent, and at the instance of Hunt, the excellent chaplain to the expedition, he was soon restored to his office, and proceeded in the midst of every discouragement to labour for the good of the colony. Foremost in enterprise, in company with New- port, he ascended James River, visited Powhatan, the chief of the country, who received them with a display of barbaric pomp. The savages from the first regarded the settlers with suspicion and dislike, and watched their op- portunity to attack them. After the return of Newport with the ships, the situation of the colonists became every day more perilous, and their sufferings more severe. The long voyage had made serious inroads on their stock of provisions, and they were soon reduced to extremity. " Had we been," says Smith, with the humorous buoyancy that never abandoned him in the midst of difficulties, " as free from all sins as from gluttony and drunkenness, we might have been canonized for saints. But our president never would have been admitted, for engrossing to his private use oatmeal, sack, oil, aquavitce, beef, eggs, or what not, but the kettle — that indeed he allowed equally to be distributed, and that was half a pint of wheat and as much barley, boiled with u Of THE UNIVE I. A.D. 160?. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 39 water, for a man a day, and this, having fried twenty-six weeks in the ship's chap. hold, contained as many worms as grains ; — our drink was water ; our lodgings, castles in the ayre." Even these illusions were soon bitterly dispelled. The major part, unaccustomed to labour, and compelled to work under the burning heat in cutting and planting palisades for the fort, soon sunk under their toils and privations, — the hostile Indians hung like a cloud over their spirits, dis- content and dissension added to the cup of their sufferings, and fever, bred from the rankness of the soil and heat of the climate, fatally assisted by mental depression, made such ravages, that before the autumn one half of the colony had perished. The selfish Wingfield, who had attempted to escape to the West Indies, had been deposed; his successor, Ratcliffe, was incompetent to rally the sinking colony, and those qualities of Smith that had formerly ren- dered him the object of general envy, now marked him out for the post of re- sponsibility and peril. He nobly answered to the summons, and after com- pleting the fortifications of James Town, marched in quest of the treacherous and hostile Indians. Some tribes he gained by caresses and presents, others he openly attacked, and, by persuasion or force, compelled them at once to de- sist from hostilities and also to furnish a supply of provisions. Enabled thus to leave the settlers in James Town in a state of comparative security and plenty, he turned his attention to the exploration of the Chickahominy, in pursuance of an order from the council to seek a communication with the Southern sea. On this expedition he was surprised by the savages, his men killed, and in endeavouring to pass a swamp, he sunk to the neck and was com- pelled to surrender. In this extremity, his presence of mind did not desert him; he astonished the Indians with a pocket compass, and so dazzled them with accounts of its mysterious powers, that he was conducted by them with mingled triumph and fear from tribe to tribe, as a remarkable being whose character and designs they were unable to penetrate, in spite of all the incant- ations of their seers. At length he was conducted to Powhatan. The politic chief, seated in the midst of his women, received him with a display of bar- baric ceremony ; the queen brought him water to wash his hands, and another person a bunch of feathers to dry them, and whilst he was feasted they proceeded to deliberate upon his fate. Their fears dictated the policy of his destruction, he was suddenly dragged forward, his head placed upon a large stone, and the club already uplifted to dash out his brains, when Pocahontas, " the king's most deare and well-beloved daughter, a child of twelve or thirteen years of age," after unavailing and passionate entreaties for the life of the white man, so noble a being to her youthful imagination, ran forward and clung to him with her arms, and laying her head upon his own, disarmed the savage fury of his executioners. The life of the wondrous stranger was pre- served, his open and generous character won not only the heart of the young Pocahontas, but that of her brother Nantaquaus, " the manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit ever seen in a savage." By the promise of " life, liberty, land, and women," they now sought to engage Smith in an attack upon the co- lonists, but his address and influence turned them from the project, and he was IT. A. D. 1607. 40 HISTORY OF AMERICA. J chap, at length dismissed with promises of support and amity. Like a tutelary genius, the loving Indian girl, after saving the life of their chief, " revived the dead spirits " of the colonists by her attention to their wants, bringing every day with her attendants baskets of provisions, so that, the enmity of the savages disarmed, and a supply of food obtained, " all men's fear was now abandoned." For Smith, on his return from the captivity which brought with it such beneficial results, had found the colony reduced to the brink of destruction, and about to be abandoned by the miserable handful of forty men who remained out of those who had landed. This desperate expedient was prevented by his energetic remonstrance, and at length Newport made his appearance with a supply of necessaries, and another company of adventurers. Its composition was as unfortunate as that of the preceding — to the dissolute and helpless crew that formed the majority, was added a leaven of the old disease, the plague of " guilded refiners with their golden promises ; no talk, no hope, no work, but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold, such a bruit of gold that one mad fellow desired to be buried in the sands, lest they should make gold of his bones." All this arose from the accidental discovery of some shining mineral substance, which credulous imagination converted into auriferous sand ; and while the cultivation of the land was neglected, Newport returned to England with a cargo of the visionary treasure. Smith now undertook, in an open barge of three tons' burden, the explor- ation of the immense Bay of the Chesapeake, the dim receding shores of which seemed to open a tempting and noble field of discovery. The event was more answerable to his anticipations, than to the very limited means at his command. During three months he visited all the countries on the eastern and western shores, ascended many of the great tributaries that swell that mag- nificent basin, trading with friendly tribes, fighting with those hostile, observ- ing the nature and productions of their territories, and leaving behind him by the exercise of ready tact and of dauntless intrepidity, unstained by a single act of cruelty, a high impression of the valour and nobleness of the English character. After sailing in two successive cruises above three thousand miles, in contending with hardship and peril and the discourage- ment of his companions, whose complaints he humorously silenced by a reference to the expedition of Lane, and the " dogges porridge " to which he had been reduced, he succeeded in bringing back to James Town an account of the provinces bordering on the Chesapeake, with a map that long served as the basis of subsequent delineations. On his return from this important expedition, in the autumn of 1608, Smith was elected president of the council ; and by his provident activity, although but thirty acres of ground were cleared and cultivated, no distress was felt. Meanwhile, Newport returned with seventy new settlers, but of the same un- suitable character. It was no easy task for the new president to enforce among so mixed a company the steady industry necessary to the very existence of their struggling colony ; although foremost in every labour, his example inspired emulation, and his firmness overawed the dissolute and contentious. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 41 At this juncture a change took place in the constitution of the company. At chap. the solicitation of Cecil and other parties in power, the king made over to the ■ — council the powers he had formerly exercised, while the jurisdiction of that in Virginia was abolished. Empowered thus to establish what laws they judged best for the state of the colony, and to nominate a governor to carry them into execution, the council in London obtained the absolute control of the lives and fortunes of the colonists. The grant of such extensive and direct powers attracted many personages of eminence, and eventually intro- duced a firmer administration. The first deed of the new council was to appoint Lord Delaware, whose virtues adorned his rank, as Governor and Captain-general of the colony. Sir Thomas Gates and Sir George Summers were authorized to administer its affairs until his arrival. Under such aus- pices, an- expedition of unusual magnitude might have been expected ; nine vessels, under the command of Newport, containing more than five hundred emigrants, were soon on their way out. The prosperity of Virginia seemed placed at length beyond the reach of danger. An unforeseen accident inter- rupted their sanguine expectations ; a violent storm arose ; the vessel on board of which were Gates, Summers, and Newport, was separated from the rest, and after a narrow escape from foundering, was stranded on the coast of the Bermudas, where, however, all were preserved. The rest of the ships, with one exception, succeeded in reaching James Town in safety. While these events were proceeding, Smith had been engaged in main- taining order and security among the little band of colonists. The sudden arrival of so considerable a reinforcement disconcerted all his arrangements. The new immigrants were " unruly gallants, packed off to escape ill destinies at home," men of broken fortunes and unsteady habits ; the actual govern- ment was void, the fate of the new governor uncertain, the provisional authority of Smith doubtful and contested, and everything tended to the speedy dissolution of their little society. Union alone could insure their de- fence, against the Indians, whose jealousy of their encroachments was steadily gaining ground, but every day their dissensions increased. Powhatan, checked at times by the ascendency of Smith, at others formed plans for cutting them all off. In these distresses and perils Pocahontas still proved herself the guardian angel of the unruly colonists ; and, " under God," as Smith declared in a letter to the queen of James L, " the instrument for preserving them from death, famine, and utter confusion. When her father," he observes, " with policy sought to surprise me, having but eighteen men with me, the dark night could not affright her from coming through the irksome woods, and with watery eyes gave me intelligence, with her best advice, to escape his fury, which, had he known, he had surely slain her." While disunion thus exposed the settlers to Indian treachery, the want of concerted industry, and the rapid consumption of their stores, soon threatened them with all the horrors of famine. Although his authority had been superseded, Smith still continued, from a feeling of public spirit, to wrestle with the factious colonists, and to hold the helm until the arrival of his successor. But at this critical 4» HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, period, when all so rapidly tended to the wildest anarchy, an accidental ex- 1L plosion of gunpowder, which inflicted a dangerous and tormenting wound, a. d. leu. coin p e n ec L hi m t return to England, to seek for that surgical aid which Vir- ginia was unable to afford. It is difficult to picture the sufferings that ensued after his departure ; so rapid was the catastrophe, that in less than six months of inconceivable misery, remembered long after as the " starving time," of five hundred persons whom he had left in Virginia, all but sixty were cut off by vice, disease, and famine. In a few days longer the whole of them must have perished, had not an unexpected succour arrived in their utter- most extremity. This was the unlooked-for appearance of Gates and Summers from the Bermudas. They had not lost a single person on their shipwreck; they had happily succeeded in saving their provisions and stores ; and while the colonists of Virginia had suffered the pinchings of want, the spontaneous bounties of nature had richly supported them for many months. Anxious to rejoin their companions, they constructed two crazy vessels, and were for- tunate enough to reach Virginia in safety. They were horror-struck at the appearance of the few surviving colonists, who, finding that their stores would last but for sixteen days longer, resolved to abandon the hated shore which had witnessed their prolonged miseries, and even to consume the town on their departure ; an act of insane folly which was happily prevented by Gates. On the 7th of June, at noon, they embarked in foui pinnaces, and fell down the river with the tide. Next morning, before they had reached the sea, they were startled with the sudden appearance of the long boat of Lord Delaware, who had just arrived at the mouth of the river with ships and re- inforcements. By persuasion and authority he prevailed upon the melancholy band to return, half reluctanctly, to the scene of their sufferings, in the hope of better times. Twice was Virginia thus saved from destruction by the energy and pru- dence of a single individual. The first act of Lord Delaware was to pub- lish his commission, and to consecrate his functions by the solemnities of re- ligion. It was an affecting scene — that assemblage in the rude log-built chapel. The hearts of the colonists were full, the arrival of the governor seemed to them like a special deliverance of Divine Providence. They took courage to grapple with the difficulties of their situation, and soon found them to give way before their determined energy. The mingled firmness and gentleness of the new governor imposed upon the factious, and won over the dissolute and refractory. A regular system was established, and every one cheerfully sub- mitted to his appointed share in the labours of the day, which were regularly preceded by public worship. The colony now began to put forth some pro- mise of permanent establishment ; but scarcely had Lord Delaware brought about this gratifying result, than a complication of disorders compelled him to return to England, leaving Lord Percy as his deputy. During his short stay, he had not only reduced the colonists to some degree of order, but had repressed the encroachments of the Indians, by the erection of new forts, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 43 and by attacking some of their villages. Sir George Somers was sent for chap. provisions to the fertile Bermudas, where he died. Captain Argall, who ac- '. — companied him in another vessel, succeeded in obtaining a supply of corn on the shores of the Potomac. The discouragement among the colonists occasioned by the departure of Lord Delaware, was happily relieved by the speedy arrival of Sir Thomas Dale with three ships, some cattle, and three hundred settlers. For the dis- orders arising from discontent and mutiny which had brought the colony to the brink of ruin, a stringent remedy had been provided in a code of martial law, founded on that of the armies in the Low Countries, by which Dale was empowered to execute summary justice upon any disturbers of the public peace, or contentious opponents of his measures. This was, however, ad- ministered so wisely by him as to fortify without exasperating the spirits of the infant colony, which certainly required a stern and watchful nurse. Lord Delaware, meanwhile, had not forgotten Virginia ; and his influence was used in seconding the urgent request of Dale for seasonable reinforce- ments. The next, accordingly, sent out turned the trembling scale and estab- lished the nascent prosperity of the colony. Sir Thomas Gates soon arrived with six ships and three hundred emigrants, thus swelling the number of the settlers to a band of seven hundred men. He brought also a quantity of cattle, and a stock of military stores. The unlooked-for arrival of this as- sistance was welcomed with transports of affectionate gratitude to the mother country. The colony now began to extend its boundaries, and the Indians were effect- ually overawed. A new settlement, defended by a palisade, called, after the king's son, Henrico, was built at some distance up James River ; and another at a spot taken (on account of their aggressions upon the colonists) from the Appomatocks Indians, at the junction of the river of that name with the James. A circumstance shortly afterwards occurred, which greatly tended, for a while, to allay the mutual animosities of the aborigines and settlers. During a voyage up the Potomac, Captain Argall had artfully brought off Pocahontas, and re- fused to give her up unless in exchange for some runaways, who had taken refuge with her father, Powhatan. While the latter was preparing for hos- tilities, one of the settlers, a young man named John Rolph, struck with the beauty and gentleness of the Indian maiden, resolved to demand her of her father in marriage. Such an union was as contrary to the prejudices of his countrymen, as it was desired by the Indians themselves, as being the surest method of cementing a lasting and equal alliance with the new-comers. The governor, however, encouraged it from motives of policy, — Powhatan was rejoiced, — the maiden herself was soon successfully wooed and won over to the faith of her husband, and the baptism of the gentle Pocahontas was shortly followed by her nuptials. This auspicious example, it was hoped by the Indians, would have been more generally imitated than it proved to be by the English, who have ever shown themselves slower than other nations in allying themselves with the natives of their colonies. The Indians could not G 2 A. D. 1617. 44 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, but perceive that their alliance was rejected, that they were despised as an inferior race, and doomed to be ultimately expelled, by force or fraud, from the hunting-grounds of their ancestors. Nor was it long before they formed a deep-laid scheme to cut off the unwelcome intruders. For a while, how- ever, all appeared fair and promising, and the powerful tribe of the Chicka- hominies sought the alliance of the English. The fate of the simple Indian maiden, " the first Christian ever of that nation, the first Virginian that ever spake English," and from whom have sprung some influential families, cannot be a matter of indifference. Shortly after her marriage she accompanied her husband to England, where she was much caressed for her gentle, modest nature, and her great services to the colony. Here she fell in again with the gallant Smith, whom from report she sup- posed to have been long dead, and who has left us an interesting account of his interview with her, and of the circumstances of her untimely death. — " Hearing shee was at Brenford, with divers of my friends I went to see her. After a modest salutation, without any word, she turned about, obscured her face, as not seeming well contented ; and in that humour her husband with divers others, we all left her two or three houres, repenting myselfe to have writ she could speake English ; but not long after, she began to talke, and remembered mee well what courtesies she had done, saying, ' You did pro- mise Powhatan what was yours should bee his, and he the like to you; you called him father, being in his land a stranger, and by the same reason so must I doe you;' which though I would have excused, I durst not allow of that title because she was a king's daughter ; with a well-set countenance she said, c Were you not afraid to come into my father's countrie and cause feare in him and all his people (but mee), and feare you here that I should call you father ? I tell you then I will, and you shall call mee child, and so I will bee for ever and ever your countrieman. They did tell us alwais you were dead, and I knew no other till I came to Plimoth, yet Powhatan did command Vitamatomakkin to seeke you and know the truth, because your countriemen will lie much.' " The treasurer, councell, and companie having well furnished Captaine Samuel Argall, the Lady Pocahontas, alias Rebecca, with her husband and others, in the good ship called the George, it pleased God, at Gravesend, to take this young lady to his mercie, where shee made not more sorrow for her unexpected death, than joy to the beholders to hear and see her make so re- ligious and godly an end." Among the changes that had recently taken place in the condition of the colony, two circumstances require especial notice, for their important influence upon its growth and improvement. The first was the establishment of a right of private property in the settlers, who by this stimulus soon came to take a greater interest in the improvement of their own lands, thus carrying on at the same time the general prosperity of the colony. The second was the sending over from England of a considerable number of respectable young females, who were eagerly welcomed by the settlers, and thus arrested the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 45 degeneracy of every community from which women are banished, and added chap. the sanctities and blessings of home to the recently acquired rights of indi- 1 — • ■% -i , A. D. 1617. vidua! property. The visionary research for gold had by this time quite died out, and in- dustry was now turned into that profitable channel from which it has never since deviated. The discovery of tobacco by Sir Walter Raleigh's settlers has been already noticed. Since that time the taste for it, in spite of the odium and ridicule it encountered, having greatly increased in England, there arose a corresponding demand, and as it was found to yield an immediate and handsome return, it formed the almost exclusive object of cultivation, and greatly enriched the colony. The enclosures around the wood dwellings of the settlers, and even the open streets of James Town, were sown with it, until the cultivation of the necessaries of life was neglected, and the settlers were compelled to rely almost entirely upon the Indians for their supply. Many edicts were issued both at home and abroad against the prevailing mania for the narcotic weed, but its insidiously grateful properties effected a per- manent victory over all the anathemas and " counterblasts " launched forth against it. In tracing the political history of the United States, we shall find two agencies, which, though often combined and acting one upon the other, are still in their own nature distinctly independent. The first is, the natural tend- ency of men cut off from their parent stock, and planted in a new country settled by their labours, to assert the natural right of self-government, and to frame, with an independence of all foreign control, such laws and institutions as are suggested by local circumstances. The other is, the modifying influ- ence exercised over them by their connexion with the country from which they spring, whose laws, whose manners and prejudices, whose internal state, or foreign policy, must affect directly or indirectly the condition of her depend- ent colonies. We shall find, as we advance towards the memorable period of American independence, that the first of these agencies, even when apparently depressed, has been steadily gaining ground, until, no longer in need of the fostering assistance of the parent state, nor able longer to endure the restric- tions imposed by her upon their giant growth, the colonies at length throw off the yoke, and assume the dignity of independent nations. It is interesting, then, to mark the first germ of self-government implanted in Virginia. The disorders of the colonists had led to the establishment of martial law, so wisely administered by Dale as to occasion no complaint, but the abuses to which such a system was liable were not long in developing themselves. Dale had returned to England, leaving George Yeardley as deputy governor, but before long, through the influence of Lord Rich, one of the principal stockholders, Captain Argall was appointed in the room of Yeardley. Argall was active, enterprising, and unscrupulous. In an expe- dition to the Penobscot he had destroyed the French settlement of St. Sauveur and Port Royal, on the ground of the claim of England to the whole territory. 46 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. His tyranny and rapacity, armed by the possession of absolute power, soon — became so intolerable to the colonists that they loudly demanded his recall, and the company answered promptly to the appeal by reappointing Yeardley, who, in order to meet the growing desire among the colonists for the pos- session of political rights, which was beginning to be felt at home, was in- structed for the first time to appoint a local assembly, composed of repre- sentatives of the different plantations. This moreover was distinctly confirmed by Sir Francis Wyatt, who was sent out to supersede Yeardley. In order, says Robertson, to render the rights of the planters more certain, the com- pany issued a Charter, or Ordinance, which gave a legal and permanent form to the government of the colony. The effects of this measure were soon felt in the reformation of numerous abuses, and in increased confidence on the part of the colonists. The post of treasurer had been conferred on Sir Edwin Sandys, whose integrity and energy were of the highest value. Though the colony still held it* ground, it was far from being in a flourishing state, and was far from profitable to the company. Sandys soon sent out twelve hundred additional emigrants, together with ninety young women. The planters rapidly extended their boundaries ; besides tobacco, various other staples of industry, among which cotton deserves especial mention, were introduced, though with little eventual success. An impulse was given to production by the arrival, for the first time, of a cargo of negroes brought by ?. Dutch vessel for sale — the fatal germ of that system of slavery, which has become so incorporated with the very existence of the country, that its abolition, however desirable, is attended with infinite difficulty. One of the first results of the discovery of the African coasts by the Portuguese, was thy establishment by them of this trade, and their example was imitated by che Spanish, whose cities abounded in negro slaves. Sir John Hawkins Lao been already alluded to as having first in- volved England in the disgrace of this inhuman traffic. On one of his semi- piratical expeditions hy had burnt an Indian town and carried off a large number of the inhabitants as slaves. The practice was found to be so pro- fitable that the mcial sense of the community, then every where but feebly developed, was easily reconciled to its adoption, and, spite of the occasional remonstrances jf che Catholic clergy, the system continued to gain ground. While industry thus extended its triumphs, a provision for religion and education was not forgotten. The Episcopal Church of England was firmly re jted in the land, which was divided into parishes, each served by a clergyman, to whom a glebe and salary were appointed. Stringent enactments were levelled against the growing spirit of Puritanism. A considerable estate w?u also set apart for the endowment of a college for the education of colonists Lnd Indians. But a short time before, and the abortive efforts to plant Virginia had become a theme for satire on the English stage — its success wa's now the subject of general enthusiasm. The colony had at length fairly taken root, and in the possession of political rights and comfortable homes, with a bound- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 47 less field of enterprise before them, the colonists at length began to rest from chap. their troubles, and little anticipated the fearful visitation impending over them. ' — The deep dissatisfaction of the Indians at the growing encroachments which they were powerless to resist by open force, and in which they instinctively saw the first steps of that onward march of civilization, before which their race was to melt away, suggested the policy of an insidious conspiracy. Pow- hatan, the ally of the English, was dead, and was succeeded by Opechancanough, who matured, in impenetrable darkness, a scheme for cutting off every white man from the colony, which he veiled by the profession of zealous amity. The English, despising the Indians, and lulled into security by a long interval of peace with them, were taken entirely by surprise. On the 22nd of March, the Indians, loaded with the sports of the chace and other provisions for their allies, entered their dwellings, and were received without suspicion ; — at a given signal, the wild yell of the savage burst forth ; men, women, and chil- dren were involved in a common massacre, and their bodies mangled with ferocious satisfaction. Two hundred and forty-seven souls were thus suddenly murdered; and the whole colony might have been cut off, but for a con- verted Indian, residing in the house of his English master, "who," it is added, " used him as a son." Being solicited by the agent of Opechancanough to murder his benefactor, he instantly informed him of the treacherous pro- posal ; the alarm was carried to James Town, which, thus forewarned, was enabled to provide against the treacherous attack of the Indians, who timidly fled before the aspect of determined resistance. Their scheme had failed — the greater part of the colonists still survived. But the effect of the panic was most disastrous. The scattered settlements were abandoned, as exposed, without adequate defence, to the sudden attack of a ruthless and invisible enemy, who eluded pursuit by plunging into the depths of the forest. To fear succeeded the thirst for revenge; and a warfare of extermination was long regarded by the settlers as a sacred duty, and even enforced by successive enactments. The misfortunes of the colonists excited a general sympathy in England, and prompt supplies were immediately sent out for their relief. The harassing warfare that ensued was attended with much misery and interruption of industrious pursuits ; and by the confusion it occasioned, tended still further to inflame the disputes among the proprietaries. The affairs of the company had been unsuccessful, and the progress of the colony proportionably slow. The colonists, by the terms of the charter, were little better than indented servants to the company, who, notwithstanding the concessions which had been extorted from them, still retained the supreme direction of affairs. Their policy was narrow, timid, and fluctuating ; and its unfortunate result led to dissensions, in which poli- tical, even more than commercial, questions soon became the subject of eager dispute. In England the ministerial faction eagerly endeavoured to fortify itself by gaining adherents among the Virginia company, but the great majority were determined to assert the rights and liberties of the subject at home, as well as of the colonists abroad. A freedom of discussion on political II A. D. IC2 48 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, matters in general was thus generated, which was regarded by the lovers of arbitrary power as being of highly dangerous tendency. The king, who had taken the alarm, was appealed to as arbiter by the minority, and, furnished with a pretext in the ill success and presumed mismanagement of the com- pany's affairs, determined upon a summary and arbitrary method of reforming them after his own standard. Without legal right, by the exercise of his pre- rogative alone, he ordered the records of the company in London to be taken possession of, and appointed a commission to sit in judgment upon its pro- ceedings, while another body was sent to Virginia to inquire into the condi- tion and management of the colony. The first inquiry brought, it was confessed, much mismanagement to light, upon which the king, by an order in council, declared his own intention to assume in future the appointment of the officers of the colony, and the supreme direction of its affairs. The di- rectors were invited to accede to this arrangement, on pain of the forfeiture of their charter. Paralysed by the suddenness of this attack upon their privi- leges, they begged that they might be allowed some time for consideration. An answer in three days' time was peremptorily insisted on. Thus menaced, they determined to stand upon their rights, and to surrender them only to force. Upon their decided refusal, a writ of quo warranto was issued by James against the company, in order that the validity of its charter might be tried in the court of King's Bench. The parliament having assembled, the court made a last appeal, but obtained from that body but little sympathy for their exclusive privileges. At length the commissioners returned from Vir- ginia with accumulated evidences of misgovernment, and an earnest recom- mendation to the monarch to recur to the original constitution of 1606, and to abrogate the democratic element which had occasioned so much dissension and misrule. This afforded additional ground for a decision, which, as usual in that age, says Robertson, was " perfectly consonant to the wishes of the monarch. The charter was forfeited, the company was dissolved, and all the rights and privileges conferred on it returned to the king, from whom they flowed." The colonists, upon learning the intentions of the king, sent over a petition that no change might take place in their acquired franchises, whatever form of government might be substituted for that of the late company. Their agent died on the passage, but James, satisfied at the moment with the victory he had obtained, and meditating the eventual establishment of a code of laws of his own especial devising, made for the present little or no change in the established form of government. Sir Francis Wyatt was continued in office, with the order to conform to the precedent of the last five years, thus tacitly recognising the authority of the representative assemblies which had been convened for that period. The monarch died before he could fulfil his de- clared intentions of remodelling the state of Virginia after the fashion of that pedantic kingcraft in which he so greatly prided himself. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 49 CHAPTER III. III. A. D. 1508. SETTLEMENT OP NEW FRANCE. — THE JESUITS AT MOUNT DESERT ISLAND.— DISCOVERIES OP CHAMPLA1N. — FOUNDATION OF QUEBEC. — DESTRUCTION OP PORT ROYAL. A.T length, France, after fifty years of intestine troubles, having through the chap. valour, activity, and clemency of Henry IV. recovered her tranquillity, and, under this most able of her monarchs, being in a condition to undertake any enterprise, the taste for colonial adventure revived, and a Breton gentleman, the Marquis de la Roche, obtained the same commission and privileges as had been conferred on Roberval. But his expedition was a total failure. On reaching Isle Sable, one of the dreariest and most barren of the Atlantic islands, he put on shore a band of forty criminals, whom he had obtained as sailors, by licence, from the prisons of France, and who soon found them- selves less at their ease than in the dungeons from which they had been de- livered, and were finally permitted to return home. The growing importance of the fur trade, next led the Sieur de Pontgrave, one of the principal merchants of St. Malo, in concert with M. Chauvin, to obtain a patent, and set on foot some more successful voyages. In 1613, De Chatte, governor of Dieppe, formed a company, composed not only of Rouen merchants, but of many persons of condition, and his preparations were advancing, when Samuel de Champlain, of Saintonge, an officer in the navy, brave, skilful, and experienced, returned from the East Indies, where he had spent more than two years. He was so- licited to direct the expedition, to which with the king's permission he con- sented. But in the mean time De Monts had obtained, in concert with a con- federacy of the most eminent and wealthy merchants of France, an exclusive monopoly of the fur trade, and the sovereignty of Acadia and its dependencies, from the fortieth to the forty-sixth degree of latitude. This unfortunate ad- venturer, according to Charlevoix, was a man of great judgment, integrity, and patriotism, zealous for his country, and of capacity to conduct any enterprise by which its interests might be advanced ; but his views were never well carried out, and his exclusive privileges awakened the envy of many, whose persevering hostility brought him to the brink of ruin. Another and a more fatal source of discord was not wanting. De Monts was himself a Calvinist, at a time when the cruel and sanguinary struggles between Catholic and Protestant had hardly ceased, yet he engaged to establish the Catholic religion among the aboriginal inhabitants and settlers. Even with the most upright intentions on his part, such a condition was certain to involve re- ligious disputes, and thus to disunite and weaken an infant community. A. D. 160C. 50 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. De Monts first landed on the Isle of St. Croix, but the severity of the winter drove him to explore the coast in search of a more favourable settle- ment. He went to the Kennebec, and as far south as Cape Cod, but finding obstacles, returned to Isle St. Croix, where being joined by Pontgrave, they repaired to Port Royal. Nature has formed few scenes more beautiful than this land-locked harbour, where one of the leaders of the expedition, Poutrincourt, charmed with the site, sought permission of De Monts to establish himself with his family. This settlement is the oldest in North America. " Here," says Mr. Bancroft, " the first French settlement on the American continent had been made two years before James River was discovered, and three years before a cabin had been raised in Canada." The stone on which the colonists rudely engraved the date of their settlement was discovered in 1827 ; on the upper part are en- graved the square and compass of the free-mason, and in the centre, in large and deeply cut Arabic characters, the date 1606. On his return to France, De Monts found his privileges assailed by the fishermen, who were successful in their appeal against him. Determined not to abandon his colony, he made a new treaty with Poutrincourt, who, leaving his settlement at Port Royal, had followed him into France, and they sailed again from Rochelle in May, 1606. Their voyage was protracted, and in the mean while the handful of colonists left behind at Port Royal were reduced to despair, and after long endurance, Pontgrave reluctantly embarked for France in search of succour, leaving but two men at the mercy of the savages to watch over the infant settlement. Scarcely, however, had they set out on their return, when they fell in with a bark, which gave them the welcome news that Poutrincourt had arrived at Canceaux. Thither they repaired, and here Pontgrave set. himself to the work of fortification. Wise, experienced, and personally indefatigable, he had the secret of preventing discontent, by keeping his people always well employed. He was ably seconded by Lescarbot, an advocate from Paris, the author of a work on French Florida, and a man as capable of founding a colony as he was of writing a history. He animated the weaker settlers, spurred on the active, and sparing himself in nothing, made himself beloved by all. But De Monts was still unfortunate — the remonstrances of the merchants had deprived him of his exclusive patent. In 1608, another expedition was made to the St. Lawrence. It was on the third of July, that Champlain, who had command of the expedition, and whose views, unlike those of the mer- chant adventurers, which had regard only to profitable traffic, embraced the ultimate establishment and defence of a noble colony, first erected on Cape Diamond, the scattered huts which formed the nucleus of the future city of Quebec, the crown and defence of Canada under both its French and English masters. The Jesuits had already followed in the wake of th'e new discoverers, and explored the rivers and coasts of Maine. Another colony was attempted under the auspices of Mary de Medici. De Soussaye was invested with the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 51 command of this expedition. Sailing from Honfleur, he touched at Port chap. Royal, but the Jesuits, eager for the conversion of the heathen, were desirous — of a sphere on which they could labour in uncontrolled independence, and thus they proceeded to explore the rocky coast of Maine. Here, near the mouth of the Penobscot, on the wild shores of Mount Desert Isle, they de- termined to establish themselves. Landing on the northern bank, De Soussaye hastily threw up intrenchments around his settlements, to which they gave the name of Saint Sauveur. Soon, by the labour of his little band of five and twenty, assisted by the ship's crew, all working with com- bined energy, some rude habitations were erected ; a cross was reared in their midst, and the matin and evening chants arose in this dreary sea-beat solitude. The missionaries now ardently engaged in the work of imparting the consola- tions of religion to the natives, and the marvels of healing seemed wrought by their faith. The Pere Biart being indefatigable in this labour of love, his earnest, disinterested piety won upon the rude but impressible savages. The sway of France, as well as her religion, were about to be permanently estab- lished upon the coasts of Maine. But these results were prevented by an unforeseen adventure, disastrous to the new colonists, and destructive of all their pious anticipations. Scarcely had they reposed from the fatigues of the long voyage, and entered upon the course in which they were engaged with their whole souls, than there ap- peared in the offing a fleet of English fishing boats from Virginia, under the convoy of a ship of war. Samuel Argall, its commander, a man of coarse character, animated by national jealousy, perhaps by religious hate, and, though the nations were at peace, founding his proceedings upon the asser- tions of the exclusive right of the English to the soil, at once determined to destroy the infant settlement. When this ill-omened fleet hove in sight, De Soussaye, seeing that it bore the English flag, prepared to defend the place, as did La Motte de Vilin the ship under his command. But they were both destitute of artillery, while Argall had fourteen guns ; and the English Cap- tain, after cannonading the feeble ramparts, poured in a destructive fire of musquetry, which compelled De Soussaye to yield. The cross, which had been placed to call together the worshippers till a chapel could be built, was hastily hurled down, and under the plea that all things are lawful in war with an enemy, Argall privately possessed himself of the commission of De Soussaye. The next day he demanded it from him ; De Soussaye, ignorant of the theft, replied, that it was in his trunk ; and when it was not found, Argall, affecting to regard him as a pirate, treated him with indignity, and gave up the ship and settlement to pillage. Argall now offered to transport his prisoners to Virginia, and to allow them the free exercise of their religion. La Motte de Vilin, who was treated kindly by the English captain, with Pere Biart, prepared to go thither. A vessel had indeed been offered to convey them back to France, but it was found to be too small — the commandant, with some of the others, determined, however, to sail in it for Port Royal. They started on this forlorn cruise, and while h2 52 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, coasting the island, had the joy of seeing on the shore their pilot, Lametz, — who, upon the attack by Argall, had made his escape into the woods. They ' had not long taken him on board before they fell in with a French ship, bound for St. Malo, in which they returned home from their disastrous ex- pedition. When Argall reached Virginia with his captives, the governor sentenced them to death, refusing to ratify the promises made to them, on the ground of their being unfurnished with a commission. Argall, rather than witness their execution, was compelled to reveal his perfidy. The prisoners were spared, but the governor, resenting the encroachments of the French, now despatched Argall to destroy all their settlements, to the latitude of forty-five degrees, within which limits the English asserted their exclusive right of colonization. The destructive edict was fulfilled to the letter, the fortifications of Isle St. Croix and the settlements at Port Royal were demolished, and thus in a few hours was consumed all that the French possessed in a colony where they had invested a hundred thousand crowns, without taking precaution against a surprise by their enemies. Poutrincourt, who had lost more than any, re- turned from the scene of his misfortunes to France, distinguished himself in the service of his country, and died on the field of honour. On their return to Quebec in 1609, Champlain and Pontgrave found that their settlement had advanced almost better than they had dared to hope. Content reigned among the colonists, they had planted Indian corn and reaped an abundant harvest, but Champlain's attempt to naturalize the vine had totally failed. Champlain was among the first to follow the fatal and cruel policy of taking part in quarrels between the Indian tribes, and of engaging them in those of Europeans. The Algonquins had solicited his assistance against the Iroquois. Sailing up the St. Lawrence in his shallop, accompanied by his allies, the French commander was the first to penetrate into the unbroken solitude of the river Sorel. After advancing fifteen leagues, the rapids of Chambly, at the point where now the fort is situated, opposed an insuperable obstacle to the pro- gress of his vessel. Of this the Indians had not forewarned him, yet, neither repelled by their deceit, nor by the perils of advancing into a hostile territory, he sent back the shallop to Quebec, and proceeded. At night they encamped on the margin of the stream, their canoes were ranged close along the shore, and they were protected from surprise on the land side by a fortification of fallen trees. It was not long before the Frenchman, emerging from the river, burst into that magnificent lake, of which he was the first discoverer, and which has ever since borne his name. He admired its wide expanse, its beautiful and varied shores, and the snow-covered mountains far to the west, among which are the head-waters of the noble Hudson. Reaching the extremity of Lake Champlain, he descended the rapids below its outlet, penetrating across that narrow intervening neck of land which separates it from the smaller but more romantic Lake George, to which he gave the name of Saint Sacrament. One envies the feelings with which Champlain must have first explored scenes HISTORY OF AMERICA. 53 of such exquisite beauty, but scenes destined to become ere long the theatre of chap. many a sanguinary struggle between the French and English, of many an act ! — of cruelty by their Indian allies. These he was now for the first time to witness, for very shortly after the Iroquois and Algonquins had met, and his fire-arms had decided the battle, the Indians began to torture their prison- ers with their accustomed cruelty, and Champlain, unable to bear the sight of the torn and palpitating captives, was compelled to beg that he might shorten their sufferings with his musket. This remarkable man afterwards carried his explorations far into the in- terior, ascended the Ottawa river, mingled in the internal wars of the Indians, obtained a great ascendency over them, and opened the path for the Jesuit missionaries, who pushed their operations into the remotest West. Under his auspices the infant foundation of Quebec, threatened by religious dissen- sions and the hostility of the Indians, was preserved from dissolution, and the* extensive territory of New France acquired for his native country. He left his bones in the land which he thus colonized and explored. CHAPTER IV. VOYAGES AND DISCOVERY OP HENRY HUDSON. SETTLEMENT OF NEW NETHERLANDS. "While the English and French subjects were extending their possessions in chap. the New World, another settlement was about to be effected there by the Iv " citizens of Holland. The natives of that extraordinary country, of which the A - D - 1609 - (t new catched miles," as Andrew Marvel calls them, are only protected from the inroads of the sea and the overflow of the Rhine by stupendous embank- ments, whose cities were built upon millions of piles sunk into the morasses, were, by the very nature of their position, as much in the ocean as on terra firma, nursed into maritime hardihood, and driven for subsistence into com- mercial and manufacturing enterprise. Rising more elastic from their me- morable struggle for their religion and liberties with the power of Spain, their commerce had taken an immense development, their ships covered the seas, and their settlements were extended far as the limits of human dis- covery. The progress of the English in North America had already excited their emulation, and an enterprise had been projected, but abandoned lest it should involve them in fresh hostilities with the Spaniards. It was in 1609 that Henry Hudson, after two daring but unsuccessful attempts, at the expense of a body of London merchants, to seek for the North-west passage to India, 54 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, crossed over to Holland and offered his experience to the newly-created Dutch East India Company. His services were accepted, and on the 4th of April, " low * in a small vessel, the Halve Mane, or Crescent, he departed for the third time on his perilous enterprise. Having reached the Northern Sea, and finding his progress impeded by masses of ice, he turned to the westward, coasted the shores of Acadie, entered the mouth of the river Penobscot, ran down as far as the Chesapeake, already colonized by the English, and finally came to an anchor within Sandy Hook at the entrance of New York Bay, which had never, so far as is known, been visited by Europeans since the time of Verezzam. As he approached the shores he was delighted with the delicious fragrance and verdure. Groups of the Indians, clothed in deer-skins, poured down and eagerly welcomed the new comers, and brought forth to propitiate them great store of Indian corn and tobacco. On the Long Island shores the natives were, however, more hostile, and attacked the boats, killing one of the crew with an arrow, and wounding two others. Hudson now advanced with greater precaution through the Narrows, explored the shores of the bay, and trafficked Avith the natives on Staten Island. Manhattan Island, now entirely overspread with the magnificent commercial capital of America, was then " wild and rough ; " a thick forest covered those parts where vegetation could take root ; the beach was broken and rugged, and the interior full of desolate sandy hillocks and swampy ponds. Hudson now entered the noble river which bears his name, carefully sounding as he advanced. Never had such a scene before saluted his eyes ; and he described the land as being " the most beau- tiful in the world." We may, indeed, figure his astonishment and delight, as from the deck of his little vessel he traced the magnificent course of the river through the rocky " Palisades," and the broad expanse of the " Tappan Sea," till he reached the majestic solitudes of " the Highlands." The lofty mountains, dropping their feet into the still waters of the river, were clothed from base to summit with a gorgeous mantle of unbroken foliage, through which the denizens of the forest roamed at will; the deer might have been seen glancing timidly from his covert at the passing apparition of a white sail ; the plaintive and fitful cry of the water-fowl, or the melancholy note of the whip-poor-will, were the only sounds that disturbed the otherwise unbroken and almost oppressive stillness. Traces of the presence of man were none save the lonely wigwam and the bark canoe. Gliding past promontory after promontory, and reach after reach, Hudson emerged into the more open part of the river, and came to an anchor off the spot where now stands the city which commemorates his name and voyage, and where he was most hospitably received by the natives. He went on shore and visited their comfortable bark wigwams, and was abundantly supplied with Indian corn and the spoils of the chace, a fat dog skinned with shells was a special delicacy prepared on the occasion, and seeing him about to return to his ships, and fearing lest mistrust of them might be the cause, they broke their bows and arrows, and threw them before his eyes into the fire. "With child-like confidence they came off HISTORY OF AMERICA. 55 to the vessel, and examined every article with curiosity and delight altoge- chap. ther as childish. Hudson did not advance above this spot with his ship, but ■ — ascended as far as Albany in his shallop ; and, after being delayed for four io 1020. ' days by adverse winds, descended the river, and, sailing direct homewards, had a fortunate passage back to Dartmouth, whence he forwarded an account of his discovery to his Dutch employers. They refused, however, to prosecute the abortive search for the North-west passage any further, and Hudson was de- spatched by a London company on his last and fatal voyage. Again reaching the Northern Sea, he sailed through the straits to which he has left his name, and found himself embayed in a vast gulf, through which he vainly sought for the long-desired outlet. After a winter of horrible privation he set out with a mutinous crew on his return ; they put him with his only son and a few sailors into an open boat, which they cut adrift, and left them to perish of cold and famine, or to be helplessly crushed by masses of floating ice. Hudson was never heard of more. So miserable was the fate of one of the most intrepid and persevering explorers of America. The Dutch East India Company claimed a right to the new lands disco- vered by their agent ; and vessels were immediately despatched to open a trade with the natives. A few fortified huts were erected for this purpose on the Island of Manhattan, the nucleus of the future city of New York. Argall, returning to Virginia from his attack of the French settlements, looked in upon the little group of traders, and claimed the right of possession for England. Too weak to dispute his claim, they affected submission, but only till his ves- sels were out of sight. The States-general had meanwhile granted a four years' monopoly to any other enterprising traders, and an Amsterdam com- pany sent out five ships. One of these adventurers, Adrian Blok, extended the sphere of discovery by way of the East River, ran through the formidable " Hellegat," or Hell Gate, traced the shores of Long Island and the coasts of Connecticut as far as Cape Cod. A fort was erected on Manhattan Island, and another at Albany, merely, however, as centres of traffic with the In- dians, and not with the view of permanent colonization. After a further duration of three years, during which they opened friendly relations with different tribes of Indians, the trading monopoly passed into the hands of the Dutch "West India Company, who were endowed with the exclusive pri- vilege of trafficking and colonizing on the coasts of Africa and America. This corporation was divided into different chambers, established in different cities — that at Amsterdam being invested with the charge of the colony now called New Netherlands, the boundaries of which extended somewhat vaguely from the Connecticut River to the Delaware. The Island of Manhattan was now purchased of the Indians, and the fort, with its little group of surrounding cottages, was named after the parent city, New Amsterdam. The traders ex- tended their explorations, and carried on a profitable traffic with the Indians. They opened friendly relations with the Protestant pilgrims in New England, who, not unforgetful of the succour afforded them in Holland, as yet cor- dially welcomed the new comers. 56 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. To encourage a permanent occupation of the country, was granted in 1629, to every one who should plant a colony of fifty souls, the separate privilege to 1*648. to possess, under the title of " Patroon," absolute property, accompanied with almost feudal privileges, in the lands thus occupied. Adventurers were not slow in availing themselves of so tempting an offer, and large portions of territory were soon appropriated. The banks of the Delaware were thus settled by De Vries ; and his infant establishment, soon destroyed by the Indians, was shortly after re-established, protected by Fort Nassau. The fort of Good Hope was erected on the shore of Connecticut, the river of which name was first discovered and its neighbourhood occupied by a body of Dutch emigrants. The claims and privileges of the " Patroons " were soon found to clash with those of the Company, and disputes arose seriously retarding the pro- gress of the colony, which was threatened besides with more serious cause for apprehension. A new scheme for colonization was formed by Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, and a band of emigrants appeared in the Delaware, elbowing their unwilling neighbours. The governor protested, but in vain, and the Swedish colony continued to increase. The old claim of the English was also revived, and a body of settlers from Plymouth summarily established themselves in the vicinity of the Connecticut. To protestations the governor, Van Twiller, this time added force, but the English were too strong for the body sent to dislodge them, and continued to maintain their ground. Mean- while, here as every where else, serious dissensions had arisen with the Indian tribes. Kieft, the successor of Van Twiller, upon a trifling provocation, had fallen upon the Algonquins and massacred a considerable number. A bloody and exterminating war broke out, the detached settlers were cut off, the villages burnt, and all the ferocity of Indian warfare was let loose upon the unhappy colonists. Wearied out, at length, both parties entered into a solemn treaty of peace. Kieft, the object of general execration, met with a retributive fate, being wrecked soon after on returning to his native country. Such were the troubles, jealousies, and dissensions, among which the infant colony of New Netherlands gradually continued to gain ground and prosper. It is interesting to look back to this early period, of which so many picturesque traces remain in local usages and nomenclature. The names of the first " Patroons " are those of the old aristocracy of the merchant city. In New Jersey any one coming from Holland would be struck with curious resem- blances to the waggons and signs of that country. The " Bowery " of New York still recalls the name of the original Dutch farming grounds, and the direction of the streets indicate, it is believed, the old cattle paths through this half rural, half commercial, settlement, which gradually encroached on the forest, and began to assume a respectable appearance, with its church and houses built after the quaint fashion of those of the mother country ; and of which the traces are so rapidly disappearing in the march of modern improve- ment. The little " schuyts," or skiffs, similar to those now seen on the canals of Holland, might then have been seen gliding up and down the Hudson, to the different landings, of which so many still retain their original appellations ; HISTORY OF AMERICA. 57 and those scattered and snug farm-houses, with their rural riches and profound chap. quietude, nestling under the wild covert of the half-cleared forest, of which '■ — the pen of Washington Irving, in his " Sketch Book," has left us so delicious ' s ' a picture. CHAPTER V. THE PILGRIM FATHERS. — ROBINSON AND HIS CHURCH IN ENGLAND AND AT LEYDEN. — NEGOCIA- TIOXS. — VOYAGE OF THE MAYFLOWER. — HARDSHIPS AND MORTALITY. — SETTLEMENT AT PLYMOUTH. The doctrine of a Providence, watching over the destinies and mysteriously chap directing the movements of the human race, was never more strikingly exem- plified than in the colonization of New England. In following its eventful history, we are forcibly struck with the ripeness of the times and seasons, and with the wonderful concurrence of circumstances : and of all the chapters of Ameiican history, this is incomparably the most interesting and momentous, as being intimately connected with principles and feelings the loftiest that can actuate the human soul. That mighty impulse given by the Reformation to the enfranchisement of the mind, so long bowed down under the paralysing influence of the Roman Church, was quickly felt throughout Europe, but not by any means in equal measure. In some instances the reaction against her was complete and the separation from her communion total. In the little republic of Geneva, for example, John Calvin — the Bible his sole guide, established a form of faith and a system of church government of the simplest and austerest kind, which soon became the model for imitation to the Protestants of Holland, France, and Scotland. In England, on the contrary, various causes contributed to prevent so sudden and extreme a change. The mass of the people were still attached to the old system. Henry VIII. repudiated the supremacy of the Pope only to establish his own ; and as he was at heart a believer in the Ca- tholic dogmas, the form taken by the English Church was but a modification of that, to whose revenues and authority it had succeeded, — a compromise be- tween Rome and Geneva. Any avowed deviation from his standard was punished by this brutal and arbitrary monarch with the torture and the fag- got. This severity might for a time suppress, though it could not destroy, that growing desire for a more sweeping reformation, which in the reign of his successor, Edward VI., and under the influence of the Lord Protector, openly displayed itself under the name of Puritanism. During this reign there was a constant struggle between the hierarchy and the Puritans; but their A. D. 1600. A. D. 1603, 58 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, dissensions were interrupted by the succession of Mary, and the temporary triumph of Catholicism, which involved them in one common persecution. On this occasion many of the Puritans took refuge on the continent, where they became still more deeply imbued with the spirit of the Calvinistic institutes. The same spirit of free inquiry that had enfranchised them from ecclesiasti- cal bigotry, naturally prompted a growing spirit of resistance to civil tyranny, which, however, the necessity of uniting against the Spanish power tended, for awhile, to keep in abeyance. When the accession of Elizabeth re-established the ascendency of Protestantism they returned to England, where their doc- trines continued to gain ground, although the queen herself, who disliked their spirit and tendency, opposed them with the whole weight of her authority ; and Archbishop Whitgift, determined to enforce a strict compli- ance with the standard of the Church, commenced a cruel persecution against the Nonconformist party. The pretensions and severity of the Episcopalians, who now contended for the doctrines, unknown to the early Reformers, of apostolical succession and the right divine of kings, increased with the acces- sion of James I., who, although bred up in the Presbyterian faith, was no sooner seated on the throne of England, than he found the established form of church government suit better with his love of arbitrary power than the restless spirit of Puritanism. This he regarded with dislike, and not without reason, as calculated to undermine the fabric of arbitrary power, especially as the parliament, now struggling against the exercise of kingly prerogative, favoured the cause of the Puritans, as much as the Episcopal hierarchy, subservient to the pleasure of the monarch, endeavoured to crush them by fines, deprivations, and imprisonment. The party thus proscribed and persecuted was itself divided. The more moderate desired rather to infuse their own spirit of rigid reformation and austerity of manners into the Established Church, than to deny her au- thority or renounce her communion. But there were many who, repudiating alike Episcopal and Presbyterian government, contended for the absolute independence of every separate congregation of believers, and their right to frame for themselves, unrestricted by human authority, such a form of church government and discipline as they could derive from the study of Scripture. This section of the party who called themselves Independents, but had obtained the appellation, at once distinctive and contemptuous, of Brown- ists, from the name of one of their leaders, a man whose intemperate zeal was speedily succeeded by his ignominious recantation, still continued to exist, in the North of England, the object of a watchful and incessant persecution. Many of them had fled for refuge to the States of Holland, and established a Congregational church in the city of Amsterdam. Of these separatists, another body had been gradually formed on the joining borders of Nottinghamshire, Lincolnshire, and Yorkshire, principally by the influence of certain Puritan ministers of the neighbourhood, and especially of William Brewster, who, from the position which he occupied in the little church which he had organized, was distinguished by the title of "Elder A. D. 1607. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 59 Brewster." He was a man of respectable family and considerable attainments, c ha p. and had been one of the under secretaries of state, in the office of Secretary Da- vison, whom he accompanied on a mission into Holland, and upon whose fall from power, in 1587, he retired from public life, as it is now believed, to Scrooby, a small village about a mile and a half to the south of Bawtry, in Yorkshire. Here he, as sub-tenant, occupied a large mansion-house, " a manor of the Bishop of York's," which had afforded a refuge for several weeks to the broken-hearted and penitent Wolsey, after his disgrace, and where he had distinguished himself by many works of piety and mercy. In this old mansion, now razed to the ground, the members of the church, for the most part agriculturists from the surrounding districts, with a few per- sonages of the rank of gentry, were hospitably entertained by Brewster, and met for the celebration of their simple, but solemn, services. Among them was William Bradford, from a family of the yeomanry, long settled at Austerfield, a village in the same neighbourhood — a man without the education of Brewster, but of good natural talents, who was afterwards chosen governor of the infant State of New Plymouth, and whose Diary of its settlement, Biography of Brewster, and other writings, form the most interesting as well as authentic materials for its history. The pastor chosen to preside over the church was John Robinson, a Puritan divine, who had been educated at Cambridge, where he is supposed to have formed the acquaintance of Brewster. He had held a benefice in the neighbourhood of Norwich, but his views upon the neces- sity of a separation from the Church becoming more decided, he endea- voured to obtain adherents in that city, which, however, he afterwards left upon an invitation to preside over the church of Scrooby. Robinson was a man of high and beautiful character, imbued with an indwelling spirit of Christian charity. Baillie, an opponent, calls him the " most learned, polished, and modest spirit that ever his sect enjoyed." " 'Tis true," says Winslow, " he was more rigid in his course and way at first than toward his latter end : for his study was peace and union, so far as it might agree with faith and a good conscience, and for schisms and divisions, there was nothing in the world more hateful to him." His liberality was seen in his willingness to receive to com- munion the members of churches differing from his own, if, as he believed, true followers of Christ ; a concession repudiated by the stricter followers of his sect. He was a true father to his people, he loved them as his own soul, in their temporal, as well as spiritual, affairs he took the deepest interest, and he was regarded by them with a feeling of veneration that gathered strength with years. Harassed at home by every species of malicious annoyance, the members of the church thus formed by Brewster, and presided over by Robinson, resolved to follow the example of the other refugees of their persuasion, and to emigrate to Holland. " It must not be understood," says Hunter, to whose recent researches we are indebted for the above details, " that all the persons who afterwards sailed in the Mayflower had been members of the church while it was in England ; many of them must have joined it during its resi- i 2 D. 1607, 1608. 60 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, dence at Amsterdam and Leyden, as we know authentically that Winslow did, and also Captain Miles Standish, afterwards so conspicuous in the history of the colony. There was indeed, during the whole of the twelve years that the church was in Holland, a constant stream of disaffected persons from England setting towards that country, where the principle of toleration was recognised, and religious peculiarities of opinion and practice might be in- dulged in peace." " It must have been in the autumn or early winter of 1607," continues Hunt- er, "that the church at Scrooby began to put into execution the intention, which must have been forming months before, of leaving their native country, and settling in a land of which they knew little more than that there they should find the toleration denied them at home. Bradford says much in his general way of writing, of the oppression to which they were subjected, both ministers and people ; and there cannot be a doubt that attempts would be made to put down the church, and those attempts, whatever they were, would be construed into acts of ecclesiastical oppression by those who deemed the maintenance of such a church an act of religious duty. And controversy, as it was in those days con- ducted, was likely to set neighbour against neighbour, and to roughen the whole surface of society. Much of what Bradford speaks may have been but this kind of collision, or *at most acts of the neighbouring justices of the peace in en- forcing what was then the law. Bradford speaks of the excitement of the neighbourhood when they saw so many persons of all ranks and conditions parting with their possessions, and going simultaneously to another country, of whose very language they were ignorant. Some carried with them por- tions of their household goods ; and it is mentioned that some of them carried with them looms which they had used at home. They were not, however, allowed to go without some opposition. The principal party of them, in which were Brewster and Bradford, intended to embark at Boston, and they made a secret bargain with a Dutch captain of a vessel, to receive them on board in that port as privately as might be. The captain acted perfidiously. He gave secret information to the magistrates of Boston, and when they were embarked, and, as they thought, just upon the point of sailing, they were surprised by finding officers of the port come on board, who removed them from the vessel and carried them to prison in the town, not without circumstances of con- tumely. Some were sent back to their homes ; others, among whom appears to have been Brewster, were kept for many months in confinement at Boston. Not consecutively upon this, but correlatively as it seems, is another fact, showing the difficulties which they met with in their emigration. The party to whom this story belongs had agreed with the master of another Dutch vessel, then lying in the port of Hull, to take them on board at an unfre- quented place on the northern coast of Lincolnshire. This man deceived them ; for having taken about half of them on board, on some real or pretended alarm, he sailed away, leaving the rest, who were chiefly women and chil- dren, on the shore in the deepest affliction.- Let it be added, to the honour of England, that the colonists cannot lay the evil conduct of these two HISTORY OF AMERICA. 61 mariners at our doors. It would, of course, with impediments such as these, c ha p. be some time before the emigration could be fully effected. Some, it seems, ■ — were disheartened, and remained in England ; but the greater part persevered in the design, and met together at Amsterdam, where they remained in great peace and unity among themselves for about a twelvemonth." At length the disputes and controversies that arose among the English Nonconformists in Amsterdam induced Hobinson, who was a lover of peace, after a year's stay at Amsterdam, to remove with his congregation to Leyden. Here the little church over which he presided remained for several years, in such a state of perfect harmony among themselves, and charity to those around them, as to call forth the public eulogium of the magistrates of the city. Brewster, who had expended his fortune in assisting his brethren, maintained himself by teaching languages, and by setting up a press, while Bradford, with some others, engaged in the manufacture of silk. Enjoying thus a safe asylum, and respected by the citizens of the country they had chosen as a refuge, the little band of exiles for conscience' sake were, notwithstanding, ill at ease. Their first impulse had been merely to escape from persecution, but as time rolled on, they began to long for some lasting abiding place in the new-found world, of which such interesting ac- counts were continually reaching them, where they could carry out their cherished idea of a Christian commonwealth, and, to use the language of Brad- ford, " lay a foundation for the gospel of Christ in these remote parts — even but as stepping-stones to others for the performance of so great a work." This desire was strengthened by various inconveniences they felt or dreaded. They feared, with English patriotism, lest their successors should be absorbed among a people whose language and usages were strange, and lest their youth should be led from the strict profession of their tenets, or be corrupted by the licence of manners prevailing around them. Faith — the great principle of their lives — led them to go forth under Divine guidance with the full confidence of a successful issue. " We verily believe," said Robinson and Brewster, in a letter to Sir Edward Sandys, " that the Lord is with us, to whom and whose service we have given ourselves in many trials; and that he will graciously prosper our endeavours, according to the simplicity of our hearts. Second, we are well weaned from the delicate milk of our mother country, and inured to the difficulties of a strange land. Third, the people are, for the body of them, industrious and frugal, we think we may safely say, as any company of people in the world. Fourth, we are knit together as a body in the most strict and sacred bond and covenant of the Lord ; of the violation whereof we make great conscience, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each other's good, and of the whole. Fifth, and lastly, it is not with us as with other men, whom small things can discourage, or small discontentments cause to wish ourselves at home again. We know our enter- tainment in England and Holland. We shall much prejudice both our acts and means by removal; where if we should be driven to return, we should not hope to recover our present helps and comforts, neither indeed look ever A. D. 1620. 62 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, to attain the like in any other place during our lives, which are now drawing towards their period." Their resolution solemnly taken, the scene of their emigration was next to be determined. It is in proof of the great esteem they had acquired that the Dutch, in learning their intention, " desired that they would go with them, and made them large offers." This, however, love to the country which had cast them forth from her bosom forbade. Debating for some time between Guiana and Virginia, they at length decided on the latter colony. As it had, however, been settled by Episcopalians, and the public profession of adher- ence to the Church of England was required and enforced by penalties, they sent over agents to England, to endeavour to make terms with the Virginia Company, and to insure for themselves liberty of conscience in case of their removal to their colony. The Company, desirous of attaching to the soil so valuable a body of emigrants, whose steadiness and character they ap- preciated, endeavoured to obtain, through their influence with the heads of Church and State, an assurance of toleration. But the spirit of bigotry was more rampant than ever at home ; and fresh edicts were launched against the Puritans even while the negociation was pending. Influence so far prevailed as to extort from the king a promise that he would connive at and not molest them, if they remained in studious obscurity, but to grant them toleration by his public authority under his seal he positively refused. The agents were obliged to return unsuccessful to Leyden ; and with Brewster now proceeded to England, to obtain as favourable a patent as they could, though unaccom- panied by liberty of conscience. This was readily granted by the Virginia Com- pany, although the patent taken out was never of any practical use. The next difficulty was to procure means, which could only be done by entering into an arrangement with a company of London merchants, whose terms were exceedingly unfavourable to the emigrants. The whole property acquired in the colony was to belong to a joint-stock for seven years ; and the services of each emigrant were only to be held equivalent to every ten pounds furnished by the capitalists. Upon these hard terms they now prepared to set out on their long-desired pilgrimage. It was decided, upon the general request, that Robinson should remain with such of the congregation as were deemed unfit for pioneers, or were unable to find room in the vessels. A small ship, the Speedwell, had been purchased in Holland, and was now ready to convey the emigrants to Southampton. Those appointed to go accordingly left Leyden, accompanied by their brethren to Delft Haven, where they were joined by members of the church at Amster- dam. The night was spent in mutual encouragement and Christian converse ; and next day, July 22, the wind being fair, they got ready to go on board. Since Paul took his final leave of the elders of the church upon the sacred strand of Miletus, when they wept " lest they should see his face no more," scarcely had a more solemn or affecting scene taken place than thiy parting of the apostolic Robinson with his flock. He fell upon his knees with them, and while the tears poured down his cheeks, commended them, with fervent prayer, A. D. 1620. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 63 to God. The choking sensations which accompany the parting of lover and chap. friend, of child and parent, were tranquillized by the soothing and exalting efficacy of faith; and thus they arose comforted and went on board, — the sails were loosened to the wind, and among the hoarse cries of the sailors, and the rough heaving of the vessel, the parting exiles strained their eyes to catch the last glimpse of those whom but few of them were destined to see again on earth. A fair breeze soon carried them to Southampton, where they remained a few days, and were joined by the larger vessel, the Mayflower. Here they received a letter from Robinson, which was read to the assembled company. Its tone and tenor were admirably calculated to suggest and enforce that brotherly concord which was the only guarantee of their success. — " Loving and Christian friends, — I do heartily, and in the Lord, salute you all as being they with whom I am present in my best affection, and most earnest longings after you, though I be constrained for a while to be bodily absent from you ; I say constrained, God knowing how willingly and much rather than other- wise I would have borne my part with you in this first brunt, were I not by strong necessity held back for the present. Make account of me in the mean while as of a man divided in myself* with great pain, and (natural bonds set aside) having my better part with you. * * * * * * * * a ^ g ^ fij-g^ y 0U are m any of you strangers, as to the persons, so to the infirmities one of another, and so stand in need of more watchfulness this way, lest when such things fall out in men and women as you suspected not, you be inordinately affected with them ; which doth require at your hands much wisdom and charity for the covering and preventing of incident of- fences that way. And lastly, your intended course of civil community will minister continual occasion of offence, and will be as a fuel for that fire, except you diligently quench it with brotherly forbearance. * * * * " Let every man repress in himself, and the whole body in each person, as so many rebels against the public good, all private respects of men's selves, not sorting with the general conveniency. And as men are careful not to have a new house shaken with any violence before it be well settled and the parts firmly knit, so be you, I beseech you, brethren, much more careful that the house of God, which you are and are to be, be not shaken with unneces- sary novelties or other oppositions at the first settling thereof." After distributing their company into the two ships, they set sail from South- ampton, but had scarcely got out into the open channel before the smaller ves- sels became so leaky that the master refused to advance ; — a few hours more would have sunk her. They put into Dartmouth, where a week's delay took place, and when they had proceeded about a hundred leagues from the Land's End, it was feared that the crazy Speedwell was unseaworthy, and must return home with such of the emigrants as were willing. Crowding the larger bark with the remainder, after " a second sad leave-taking," the ships parted company, and the Mayflower proceeded on her solitary voyage, to encounter the full fury of the equinoctial gales. For days to- 64 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, gether they were forced to scud before the wind without a rag of sail, in — danger of foundering, the heavy seas straining her upper works, and so loosen- A.D.1G20. . & , . *i •' "U • i i • ?i ^ r Z. n ({ '. mg and warping the mam beam amidships, that but ior " a great iron screw that one of the passengers had brought from Holland," by means of which they contrived to fix and strengthen it, the captain and officers had serious thoughts of putting about and returning. Struggling with these tempestuous seas, after a long passage of two months from Southampton, at day-break, on the ninth of November, they came in sight of the coast of New England, off the far famed headland of Cape Cod. The object of the pilgrims had been to settle near the Hudson River, and they now ran down to the southward, but getting among dangerous shoals, bore up again for Cape Cod, and came to an anchor within its harbour. After their rude tossing, the sight of the wooded land and the sweet breezes that Came off the shore were reviving, while the vast store of fish and fowl, with the number oT whales playing round the ship, proved that they had lighted upon a spot fertile in resources. Eager to land, they resolved nevertheless, in consequence of some signs of dissension, to frame themselves into a body, and to appoint a governor. John Carver, Bradford, also Elder Brewster, and Captain Miles Standish, were the leading personages among the company : the choice unanimously fell upon the first. The document signed by them is worthy of citation as the first voluntary compact of popular liberty and equal rights. " In the name of God. Amen. "We, whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign lord, King James, by the grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, King, defender of the faith, etc. " Having undertaken, for the glory of God, and the advancement of the Christian faith, and the honour of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body-politic, for our better order and preservation, and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the colony ; unto which we promise all due submission and obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder sub- scribed our names. Cape Cod, 11th November, in the reign of our sovereign lord, King James, of England, France, and Ireland, 18, and of Scotland, 54. Anno Domini 1620." This agreement was signed by all the men, who with their wives and families made up the number of one hundred and one. Thus, by the impossibility of obtaining toleration in Virginia, and by losing their way to the Hudson, circumstances apparently accidental, but really providential, the emigrants were led to the New England shores. Arrived at the desired term of their long voyage, the pilgrims found that their sufferings were but about to commence. They had reached a wild, inhospitable coast, A. D. 1620. HISTORY OF AMERICA, 65 with its severe frosts and cutting winds, as the winter was beginning to set in, chap. and of the very first of those who went on shore, many, having to wade through the freezing water, " caught the original of their deaths." The shallop was unshipped 'and found to require repairs, and the progress was so slow that it was determined to send out an exploring party of sixteen men, armed with musket, sword, and corslet, under the conduct of Standish, who, after a vain research, came home weary and exhausted. The shallop at length finished, the party again set out. Suffering severely from the advancing season, and wading hill& and valleys covered with snow, they returned without making any discovery beyond deserted wigwams, a little buried corn, and some graves. The winter was now arrived, and it was absolutely necessary to fix upon some spot for a settlement. Again the shallop was sent off with Carver, Bradford, Standish, und seven others, the hardiest that could be found, and for five weeks the party buffeted with the severity of the season, — the spray of the sea freez- ing on them, and making their coats like cast-iron, while to all these priva- tions and sufferings were added the jealous hostility of the ambushed Indians. " About five o'clock in the morning," says their Journal, " we began to be 6tirring. After prayer, we prepared ourselves for breakfast, and for a jour- ney, it being now the twilight in the morning." The savage war-whoop of ihtir enemies, that day for the first time heard, yelled around them, and their arrows flew through the {dr. Standish and his followers stood to their arms, ihs others defended the shallop, and discharged their fire-arms, which put Jhe savages to flight. " By the special providence of God," says the journal, m a vivid account of their battle, " none of us were hit or hurt. So, after we had given God thanks for our deliverance, we took our shallop, and went on our journey, and called this place The First Encounter." In hopes of reaching a harbour known to one of their number who had been on these coasts before, they sailed on with a fair wind, but in a storm of rain and snow, the gale increased, the sea rose and broke the hinges of the rudder, and two men were obliged to Steer the shallop with a couple of oars. The waves, now wollen by the gale, threatened every moment to swamp the boat, their pilot cried out that he saw the harbour, and bade them be of good cheer. Straining Dn with all their canvass to get in, their mast split into three pieces, and the boat was nearly lost, but righting, was driven by the flood tide into the harbour. Here, however, fresh perils assailed them ; the pilot, mistaking the place, had well nigh run them among breakers, but recovering themselves in time, as the night set in, they gained the lee of a sandy island, which securely sheltered their little shallop, and upon this desolate spot they kept their watch all night in the rain. In the morning of Saturday they explored the island, which they found to be uninhabited, and here, pressed as they were by their own necessities, and those of their anxious comrades on board the Mayflower, " on the sabbath day they rested." On Monday, the band of pioneers first set foot upon the rock of Plymouth, which name was given in grateful memory of their Christian friends in 66 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the same town in England. After exploring the neighbourhood, and de- A D ■ ciding upon its fitness for a settlement, they returned with the good news i62i. ' to the rest of their people, cooped up on board the Mayflower, " which did much comfort their hearts." The anchor was joyfully weighed ; the vessel ar- rived on Saturday, and the next day was the last of their sabbaths spent at sea. Their first work was to erect habitations to shelter them from the weather. A bold hill commanding a look-out over the bay, offered a vantage ground for their fort, which was garnished with a few small pieces of ordnance ; at its foot two rows of huts were laid out and staked — the habitations of nineteen families. The winter had now set in, and although milder than usual, their labours at felling trees and constructing their rude habitations were carried on in the midst of constant storms of rain and sleet ; already had the seeds of mortal disease been implanted ; by privations and exposure to the rigour of the season, by wading through the icy water from the ship to the land, the strong man be- came weak. as a child, and the delicate frame of woman sunk under the double pressure of mental anxiety and physical exhaustion. During this first winter they faded gradually away ; and one of the first entries was the following : — " January 29, dies Rose, the wife of Captain Standish." Bradford's wife had perished by drowning. But not to follow the melancholy chronicle of bereave- ments, suffice it to say, that during these three dreary months one half their number were cut off. That winter they had to form seven times more graves for the dead than habitations for the living. They were buried on the bank not far from the landing — a spot still religiously venerated; and lest the Indians should take courage to attack the survivors from their weakened state, the soil which covered the graves of their beloved relatives was carefully beaten down and planted with a crop of corn. The spot upon which Providence had thus cast them, contrary to their original design, proved to be beyond the limits of the patent assigned to the company of whom they had purchased it. It is singular, not only that former attempts to colonize the neighbourhood should have failed, but also that a de- structive malady should, not long before, have nearly destroyed all its abori- ginal Indian inhabitants. During the winter they were not free from alarm ; and a sort of military defensive organization was adopted, under the di- rection of Captain Standish. But when the spring came round with its soft airs, and hope, tinged with melancholy, began to animate the survivors, and the sickness ceased from among them, an Indian, one morning, walked boldly into the camp and saluted them in their own tongue — " Welcome English- men." He was one of the Sagamores of the Wampanoags, and told them of the great plague, and that the land was free for them to occupy. He was . received by them with kindness, and soon returned, bringing with him an Indian named Squanto, who having been carried off to England in a pi- ratical expedition, had fallen into the hands of a merchant of Cornhill, whose kindness to him was destined to be repaid with grateful interest to the Plymouth settlers. Brought back to New England by Mr. Dormer, he was by him made instrumental in healing the animosity kindled in the breasts A. D. 1621. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 67 of the Indians by these slave-hunting rovers, and he now acted as interpreter chap. and guide — showed them how to plant their corn, and caught fish for them when starving. Having accompanied the governor to Cape Cod, to trade with the Indians and obtain corn, he was taken ill and died, bequeathing his trifling possessions as memorials to his English friends, and " desiring the governor to pray that he might go to the Englishman's God in heaven." Through the mediation of these Indians a treaty of mutual amity and succour had been entered into with Massasoit, Sachem of the neighbouring tribe of Wampa- noags ; and thus one source of uneasiness was happily set at rest. On the approach of spring, Carver was chosen again as governor, but lived only a fortnight after his re-election. He had lost his son soon after their arrival, and his indefatigable labours during the sickly winter had under- mined his strength, and his wife died shortly afterwards. Bradford was ap- pointed as his successor. The Mayflower returned to England. In the summer arose their Timber Fort, mounted with ordnance, and carefully guarded, serving also as the first rude Meeting-House of New England. " This place," says Cheever, " called at first Fort Hill, afterwards changed its name to that of the Burying Hill, for it began to be used as the place of burial soon after the first year of the Pilgrims' settlement. In building the fort, they so constructed it as to make it serve also for the house of public worship, where they could calmly praise God, without fear of any sudden incursion from the savages. The foundations of the fort are still distinctly marked, but the last mention of it in the town records is in 1679, at the close of King Philip's war, when the defences were no longer needed. On this hill are the graves of several of the Mayflower Pilgrims, Governor Bradford's among others, and that of John Howland and his wife Elizabeth. The grave of Thomas Clarke, the mate of the Mayflower, is here. This is the place also of the grave of the last ruling elder of the first church in Plymouth, Mr. Thomas Faunce. He died not till the year 1745, in the 99th year of his age, and, of course, was long the living repository of the authentic unwritten tra- ditions concerning the first generation of the Pilgrims. The great age to which those lived who survived the dreadful trials of the first few years, is remarkable. John Alden, who came in the Mayflower, died at the age of 89, in 1687, and one of his direct descendants, John Alden of Middleborough, died at the age of 102, in the year 1821. The wife of the Governor Bradford died at the age of 80. Elder Brewster, John Howland and his wife Eliza- beth, Elder Cushman and his wife Mary, were all from 80 to 90 years of age when they died. Thomas Clarke, the supposed mate of the Mayflower, was 98. The grave-stones over these Pilgrims, if you find them on Burying Hill, are not so old as their deaths ; they are said to have been brought over from England, and in some cases were not put up till long after the graves of the whole generation were made." It may be supposed that Robinson, with those who had remained in Hol- land under his charge, awaited with the deepest anxiety intelligence of the fate of their brethren. The news of their sufferings, and the grievous mor- k 2 V. A. D. 1621. 68 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, tality amongst them, at length arrived, and awakened feelings which found their expression in letters such as the following : — " To the Church of God at Plymouth, in New England. Much beloved brethren : Neither the distance of place, nor distinction of body, can at all either dissolve or weaken that bond of true Christian affection, in which the Lord by his Spirit hath tied us together. My continual prayers are to the Lord for you ; my most earnest desire is unto you, from which I will no longer keep, if God will, than means can be procured to bring with me the wives and children of divers of you, and the rest of your brethren, whom I could not leave behind me without great injury both to you and them, and offence to God, and all men. The death of so many of our dear friends and brethren, oh how grievous hath it been to you to bear, and to us to take knowledge of ! which if it could be mended with lamenting, could not sufficiently be be- wailed : but we must go unto them, and they shall not return unto us ; and how many, even of us, God hath taken away here, and in England, since your departure, you may elsewhere take knowledge. But the same God has tempered judgment with mercy, as otherwise, so in sparing the rest, espe- cially those by whose godly and wise government you may be, and I know are, so much helped. In a battle it is not looked for but that divers should die ; it is thought well for a side if it get the victory, though with the loss of divers, if not too many or too great. God, I hope, hath given you the victory, after many difficulties, for yourselves and others ; though I doubt not but many do and will remain for you and us all to strive with. Brethren, I hope I need not exhort you to obedience unto those whom God hath set over you in church and commonwealth, and to the Lord in them. It is a Chris- tian's honour to give honour according to men's places ; and his liberty, to serve God in faith, and his brethren in love, orderly and with a willing and free heart. God forbid I should need exhort you to peace which is the bond of perfection, and by which all good is tied together, and without which it is scattered. Have peace with God first, by faith in his promises, good conscience kept in all things, and oft renewed by repentance ; and so one with another for His sake which is, though three, one ; and for Christ's sake, who is one, and as you are called by one Spirit to one hope. And the God of peace and grace and all good men be with you, in all the fruits thereof plenteously upon your heads, now and for ever. All your brethren here remember you with great love, a general token whereof they have sent you. Yours ever in the Lord, John Robinson. Leyden, Holland, June 30th, Anno 1621." Such documents as these are in the highest sense historical, since they dis- play, as nothing else can, the spirit and the motives which animated the Pil- grims. The " hope deferred " of joining his flock was very grievous to Ro- binson, prevented as he was from doing so by misunderstandings with the London merchants, who refused to send him over. Meanwhile, the care of the little church at Plymouth devolved on Elder Brewster, who, possessing a good education as well as profound piety, fulfilled the duties of a Chi is- tian overseer in a spirit truly apostolical, although he could never be per- A. D. 1623. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 69 suaded to assume the office of pastor, and would never receive any emolu- c ha p. ment for his services ; but, in the language of Governor Bradford, " was willing to take his part and bear his burden with the rest, living many times without bread or corn many months together, having many times nothing but fish, and often wanting that also ; and drank nothing but water for many years together, yea, until within five or six years of his death. And yet he lived, by the blessing of God, in health until very old age ; and besides that, would labour with his hands in the fields as long as he was able." Of such a stamp were the venerable founders of New England. Robinson himself, the patriarch of the Plymouth church, was not destined to enter into the promised land. He died in Holland ; and it was some years before his family and the rest of the con- gregation found means to join the " forefathers " of the expedition. The suffering and mortality of the first winter being over, the survivors took heart and began to extend the sphere of their discoveries. A party explored the shores of Massachusetts Bay and the peninsula upon which the city of Boston was soon afterwards founded. With the autumn came fresh trials. Another vessel, the Fortune, was sent out by the merchants, having on board Cushman, with a new patent, obtained through the good offices of Sir Ferdi- nando Gorges. The ship had brought over new mouths, and no provisions ; the result was a famine of several months' duration ; all had to be put on half allowance ; the corn was all eaten, and the colonists were reduced to the. scan- tiest rations — chiefly of fish, or to such precarious supplies as were occasionally obtained from passing vessels at an exorbitant cost. No cattle had been yet imported; their agricultural instruments were scanty and rude, and they were almost destitute of boats and tackle to enable them to profit by the shoals of fish which abounded on the coasts. Mortality and distress had prevented them from subduing the soil — men, toiling at the rude labours of a first set- tlement, " often staggered for want of food." Hitherto everything had been shared in common among them ; but here, as it happened in Virginia, the possession of private property was found to be a necessary stimulus to industry, for even in the best organized communities are to be found the idle and im- provident. In the second year of their settlement an agreement was accord- ingly entered into, that each family should labour for itself, — the result of which proved to be, that instead of being obliged to seek for supplies of corn from the Indians, the settlers had now a surplus to dispose of. Apprehensions of attack from the Indians were not wanting, but the deci- sion and energy of the governor prevented any from being made. The powerful Narragansetts, enemies of the Wampanoags, had sent to Plymouth a bundle of arrows tied up with the skin of a rattlesnake, in token of defiance — Bradford returned the envelope stuffed with powder and shot. The hint thus given repressed hostility ; but, to prevent a surprise, the settlement was prudently surrounded with a palisade of timbers having three gates. But evils which their own peacefulness of demeanour towards the abori- gines, or decision when threatened by their hostilities, had warded off, were brought about ere long through the criminal recklessness of a new body of A. D. 1623. 70 . HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. colonists sent out by Weston, to found a separate plantation for his own advan- tage. These were men of dissolute character, who, after intruding upon the Plymouth settlers, and eating or stealing half their provisions, had attempted a settlement at Wissagussett in Massachusetts Bay. Having soon exhausted their own stock, they began to plunder the Indians, who formed a conspiracy to cut them off. The plot was revealed by the dying Sachem Massasoit. Here the colonists had to deplore the same hasty spirit of revenge which had, in almost every instance, sown the seeds of lasting hatred and hostility in the Indian breast. Captain Standish, brave but inconsiderate, surprised Wituwamot, the chief of this conspiracy, and put him to death on the spot, together with se- veral of his Indians. When Robinson heard of this deplorable occurrence, he wrote back to the church, " Oh how happy a thing had it been, had you con- verted some, before you had killed any!" This ill compacted settlement shortly afterwards fell to pieces. Among various others now attempted along the line of coast, was one which merits notice as a curious contrast to that of the Plymouth Pilgrims. This was founded by a Captain Wollaston, and named after himself. It fell soon after under the management of a London lawyer, one Morton, who changed its name from Mount Wollaston to Merry Mount, set up a May- pole, as if to satirize the strictness of the Puritans, broached ale and wine, and held a drunken carousal, sold or squandered all the provisions and stock, and wound up his absurd and mischievous proceedings by the criminal folly, if not malicious wickedness, of selling fire-arms to the Indians. This ' Devil's holiday ' soon, however, came to an end : the frightened settlers re- quested the interference of the brethren at Plymouth, by whom, accordingly, mad Morton was apprehended and held in durance, until they could meet with an opportunity of shipping him ofT to England. Sir Ferdinando Gorges, in concert with an enterprising partner named Mason, had obtained a grant of territory from Naumkeag, now Salem, to the Kennebec, and thence to Canada. Portsmouth and Dover were now founded, but long remained mere fishing stations. His son, Robert Gorges, received also a grant in Massachusetts Bay, and the appointment of Lieutenant- General of New England. He sailed with a considerable number of people to take possession, and attempted a settlement at Wissagussett. The settlers were now threatened with an evil, against which they had vainly endeavoured to provide. With Gorges, came out an Episcopal minister, named Morrell, empowered by the Archbishop of Canterbury to exercise ecclesiastical super- intendence — he appears, however, to have attempted no interference with the established system. Soon after came a minister who had received Epis- copal ordination, sent out by the company to supply the pastoral office vacant by the absence of Robinson; but his office was unwelcome, and being shortly expelled for practising against the colony, he, together with his adherents, formed a settlement at Nantasket. The colonists were thus left to follow their own persuasions, though not without occasional dissensions among them- selves. Gorges remained little more than a year in New England. Thus A. D. 1C21. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 71 practically the form of self-government, both civil and ecclesiastical, adopt- chap ed by the Pilgrim Fathers, remained unchallenged and undisturbed. The same simple principle existed in both. The form was a strict democracy, a little body of settlers forming at once a church and a state, electing their own officers in both, and exercising a share in the government. They were accustomed to assemble for this purpose at what were called " Town Meetings," to confer with the governor upon matters of general concern, in a free, friendly, and confidential manner. Bradford, who succeeded to Carver in the office of governor, deserves the most honourable mention among the fathers of the infant colony. " He was in an eminent degree," says Cheever, " the moving and guiding genius of the enterprise. His conduct towards the Indians was marked with such wisdom, energy, and kindness, that he soon gained a powerful influence over them. With the people of the colony, not merely his first fellow-pilgrims, but all that came successively afterwards, he had equal authority and power; without the necessity of assuming it. The most heedless among them seemed to fear and respect him. He set them all at work, and would have none idle in the com- munity, being resolved that if any would not work neither should they eat. " His administration of affairs, as connected with the merchant adventurers, was a model of firmness, patience, forbearance, energy, and enterprise. With a few others, as we have seen, he took the whole trade of the colony into his hands, with the assumed responsibility of paying off all their debts, and the benevolent determination to bring over the rest of their brethren from Leyden. His activity in the prosecution of this great work was indefatigable. Mean- while, no other business, either of the piety or civil policy of the colony, was neglected. He made such arrangements, in conjunction with his brethren, to redeem their labour from the hopelessness of its conditions in the adventuring copartnership under which they were bound for the seven years' contract with the merchants, as inspired them all speedily with new life and courage. Under the pressure of the famine, his example was as a star of hope, for he never yielded to despondency; and while, with Brewster, he threw them upon God for support and provision, he set in motion every possible instru- mentality for procuring supplies. He went in person with parties among the Indians for corn, and took part himself in every labour. " In the spiritual prosperity of the colony, Governor Bradford took an in- cessant and most anxious interest, possessing in himself, in no small degree, the wisdom and temper of his beloved pastor, Robinson. Under him and Brewster, the Plymouth church maintained their superiority in the liberality and independence of their views above all the other colonies. The answer which the governor made to their slanderers in England, in regard to their church policy and customs, breathed the very spirit of Scriptural wisdom and freedom, so remarkable in the parting discourse of Robinson to the Pilgrims. ' Whereas you would tie us up to the French discipline in every circumstance, you derogate from the liberty we have in Jesus Christ. The apostle Paul would have none to follow him in anything, but wherein he follows Christ ; <& HISTORY CF AMERICA. chap, much less ought any Christian or church in the world to do it. The French ' '. — may err, we may err, other churches may err, and doubtless do, in many ' circumstances. That honour, therefore, belongs only to the infallible word of God, and pure Testament of Christ, to be propounded and followed as the only rule and pattern for direction herein to all churches and Christians. And it is too great arrogancy for any man or church to think that he, or they, have so sounded the word of God unto the bottom, as precisely to set down the church's discipline without error in substance or circumstance, that no other, without blame, may digress, or differ, in anything from the same. And it is not difficult to show that the Reformed Churches differ in many circum- stances among themselves.' " Bradford presided over the affairs of the colony by their own free choice, and even affectionate solicitation, for nearly thirty-seven years together, with admirable temper and wisdom. In the year 1633, we find a record in Go- vernor Winthrop's Journal, as follows: * Mr. Edward Winslow chosen Governor of Plymouth, Mr. Bradford having been Governor about ten years, and now by importunity got off.' He pleaded so hard to be let off for that year, that they yielded without fining him. Such were the fathers of the New England States. They shared each other's burdens too completely to seek or desire superiority in any other way. They sought not for office, had no parties, wished for no power but that of doing good. It was not till pros- perity had relaxed their vigilance, and men of worldly minds had been added to their company, that parties began to exist among them. Their church covenant was of great solemnity and power with them, ' of the violation whereof,' said Robinson, f we make great consequence, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each other's good, and of the whole by each, and that mutual.'" The first settlement of New England, through the midst of distress and discouragement, has now been briefly traced. It is a memorable enterprise in the history of the world, both for the motives that led to it, as well as its momentous and far-reaching consequences. It marks the period when the mind first threw off the trammels of civil and ecclesiastical despotism, and sought to found in the New World a Christian democracy upon the basis of the " everlasting word." Other settlements of America arose out of commercial or patriotic enterprise ; this had its origin in religious enthusiasm. Those who founded it walked with God, and in every event beheld his guiding pro- vidence. Thus led forth by his hand, life or death were equally welcome. In the perils of the deep — amidst sufferings on shore — in failing health — in bitter privation — in an untimely fate upon a distant shore — their faith sus- tained them. Their trials and distresses were soothed by referring all things to the will of God. In the bright sky over their heads — the blue expanse of waters — the lovely freshness and wildness of the virgin forest, they beheld the traces of his presence and the tokens of his goodness. Their humble fare was sweetened by honest labour, undertaken in cheerful submission to the Divine will. The spirit of the New Testament, the spirit of brotherly love, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 73 was the sole cement of their simple institutions. Theirs was the only true de- chap. mocracy, to love one another as themselves ; theirs the only true government, ■ when the ambition of the greatest is to be the servant of all. That in some respects they were not above the spirit of their age, the age of sectarian prejudice, sharpened by bitter persecution, was unavoidable. But their deep religious feeling, their stern integrity, their guileless simplicity, their passion for freedom and abhorrence of oppression, their obedience to law, their steady courage and hardy enterprise, their laborious, frugal, and , self-denying habits, were the noble qualities which, rooted by them in the land, and transmitted to their descendants, formed the solid and immovable foundations of the American State. These moral and intellectual character- istics are also the salt wherewith the great republic has been preserved from that corruption, which its unprecedented progress in material prosperity might otherwise, but too probably, have engendered. The affectionate interest with which every memorial of the Pilgrim Fathers is regarded throughout the United States, will probably justify the insertion of the visit of a recent traveller to the scene of their first settlement. " We admired," says Sir C. Lyell, " the fine avenues of drooping elms in the streets of Plymouth as we entered, and went to a small, old-fashioned inn, called the Pilgrim House, where I hired a carriage, in which the landlord drove us at once to see the bay and visit Plymouth beach. " The wind was bitterly cold, and we learnt that, on the evening before, the sea had been frozen over, near the shore ; yet it was two months later, when, on the 22nd of December, 1620, now called Forefathers' Day, the Pil- grims, consisting of 101 souls, landed here from the Mayflower. No wonder that half of them perished from the severity of the first winter. They who escaped seem, as if in compensation, to have been rewarded with unusual longevity. We saw in the grave-yard the tombs of not a few whose ages ranged from seventy-nine to ninety-nine years. The names inscribed on their monuments are very characteristic of Puritan times, with a somewhat grotesque mixture of other very familiar ones, as Jerusha, Sally, Adoniram, Consider, Seth, Experience, Dorcas, Polly, Eunice, Eliphalet, Mercy, &c. The New Englanders laugh at the people of the " Old Colony " for remaining in a pri- mitive state, and are hoping that the railroad from Boston, now nearly com- plete, may soon teach them how to go a-head. But they who visit the town for the sake of old associations, will not complain of the antique style of many of the buildings, and the low rooms, with panelled walls, and huge wooden beams projecting from the ceilings, such as I never saw elsewhere in America. Some houses, built of brick brought from Holland, notwithstanding the abund- ance of brick-earth in the neighbourhood, were pointed out to us in Leyden Street, so called from the last town in Europe where the pilgrims sojourned after they had been driven out of their native country by religious persecution. In some private houses we were interested in many venerated heir-looms, kept as relics of the first settlers, and among others an antique chair of carved wood, L A. D. 1633. 74 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ii a p. which came over in the Mayflower, and still retains the marks of the staples which fixed it to the floor of the cabin. This, together with a seal of Governor Winslow, was shown me by an elderly lady, Mrs. Hanwood, daughter of a Winslow and a "White, and who received them from her grandmother. In a public building, called Pilgrim Hall, we saw other memorials of the same kind, as, for example, a chest or cabinet, which had belonged to Peregrine White, the first child born in the colony, and which came to him from his mother, and had been preserved to the fifth generation in the same family, when it was presented by them to the Museum. By the side of it was a pewter dish, also given by the White family. In the same collection they have a chair brought over in the Mayflower, and the helmet of King Philip, the Indian chief, with whom the first settlers had made a desperate fight. " A huge fragment of granite, a boulder which lay sunk in the beach, has also been traditionally declared to have been the first spot which the feet of the Pilgrims first trod when they landed here ; and part of this same rock still remains on the wharf, while another portion has been removed to the centre of the town, and enclosed within an iron railing, on which the names of forty- two of the Pilgrim Fathers have been inscribed. They who cannot sympathize warmly with the New Englanders for cherishing these precious relics, are not to be envied, and it is a praiseworthy custom to celebrate an annual festival, not only here, but in places several thousand miles distant. Often in New Orleans, and other remote parts of the Union, we hear of settlers from the North meeting on the 22nd of December, to commemorate the birth-day of New England ; and when they speak fondly of their native hills and val- leys, and recall their early recollections, they are drawing closer the ties which bind together a variety of independent States into one great con- federation. " Colonel Perkins, of Boston, well known for his munificence, especially for founding the Asylum for the Blind, informed me in 1846, that there was but one link wanting in the chain of personal communication between him and Pe- regrine White, the first white child born in Massachusetts, a few days after the Pilgrims landed. White lived to an advanced age, and was known to a man of the name of Cobb, whom Colonel Perkins visited in 1807, with some friends who yet survive. Cobb died in 1808, the year after Colonel Perkins saw him. He was then blind, but his memory fresh for everything which had happened in his manhood. He had served as a soldier at the taking of Louisbourg, in Cape Breton, in 1745, and remembered when there were many Indians near Ply- mouth. The inhabitants occasionally fired a cannon near the town to frighten them, and to this cannon the Indians gave the name of ' Old Speakum.' " When we consider the grandeur of the results which have been realized in the interval of 225 years, since the Mayflower sailed into Plymouth Har- bour, — how in that period a nation of twenty millions of souls has sprung into existence, and peopled a vast continent, and covered it with cities and churches, schools, colleges, and railroads, and filled its rivers and ports HISTORY OF AMERICA. 75 with steam-boats and shipping; we regard the Pilgrim relics with that chap. kind of veneration which trivial objects usually derive from high antiquity ' — , ,, A. D. 1633. alone. [In the composition of this chapter the author has to acknowledge his obligations to the Rev. R. Hunter's recent valuable tract on the English Localities of the Pilgrim Fathers, as also to the excellent work of Dr. Cheever.] CHAPTER VI. VI. A. D. 1630. COLONY OP MASSACHUSETTS BAY. — PRELIMINARY ATTEMPTS. — EMIGRATION UNDER WINTHROP. — ESTABLISHMENT OF THE THEOCRACY.— RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE. — ROGER WILLIAMS AND MRS. HUTCHINSON. — FOUNDATION OF CONNECTICUT.— THE PEQUOD WAR. The settlement of the Independents was soon followed by another and more chap. extensive one of the Puritans upon the shores of Massachusetts Bay. The increasing uneasiness of their position in England, led many, even of the higher ranks of the gentry, to desire a similar refuge in the New World, to that established by the Pilgrims at Plymouth. White, a clergyman of Dor- chester, leaving a few settlers at Naumkeag, or Salem, after a first abortive attempt, repaired to England, and soon succeeded in interesting a body of gentlemen in the scheme. It should be here observed, that the first original charter of Virginia had empowered the patentees to form a second colony in the northern portion of the territory, comprised within the limits of their patent ; and more than one attempt was made to this effect, but with little or no success. One of them was by the gallant Captain Smith, distinguished for his participation in the affairs of Virginia, and from him the coast first received its lasting appellation of New England. Meanwhile, the Plymouth company succeeded in obtain- ing an exclusive patent for all the northern portion of the territory bestowed upon the original Virginia company. The settlement of the Plymouth Pil- grims had anticipated any measures for colonization under the auspices of the new company. A grant was obtained from this New England company of Plymouth, em- bracing Massachusetts Bay, and the country extending to the westward. The first settlement was effected under the conduct of John Endicott, who estab- lished himself at Naumkeag. On exploring the head of Massachusetts Bay, a few solitary squatters were found to have occupied the principal points. A strong body, chiefly from the neighbourhood of Boston in Lincolnshire, soon followed, and a fresh patent was obtained from Charles I., incorporating the adventurers as the Governor and Company of Massachusetts Bay in New Eng- x. 2 76 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, land, the stockholders to elect annually a governor, deputy-governor, and ■ — eighteen assistants, who were to administer the affairs of the colony in monthly * court meetings. Four great and general courts of the whole body of freemen were to be held for the transaction of public affairs. Nothing might be en- acted contrary to the rights of Englishmen, but the supreme power resided with the company in England. It was exclusively regarded as a patent for a trading corporation, and no provision was made for securing religious toleration. Indeed the great body of the proprietors were still attached to the Church of England ; and when Endicott, who, having visited Plymouth, de- sired to establish an Independent church, and to renounce the use of the English liturgy, became involved in a dispute with certain of the more mo- derate, and these were sent home to England by him as contumacious, he was indirect))' reprimanded by the company for this dangerous stretch of authority. A plsn to transfer the charter and the company from England to the colony itself \t as next formed, which led to a very important increase in the number and distinction of the emigrants. The principal of these were, Sir Richard Salton* tall, Isaac Johnson, (brother-in-law of the Earl of Lincoln,) Thomas Dudley, and John Winthrop. Winthrop was chosen governor, and, by his admirable conduct, fully justified the general confidence. He was indeed a noble specimen of the Puritan English gentleman — loyal, yet no less sternly bent upon the assertion of public liberty, and, by old association, attached to the Church, which he nevertheless desired to see reformed upon what he deemed the pure basis of Scripture. The emigrants included many persons of high character, wealth, and learning. Their attachment to the mother country was manifested in a protestation against certain calumnious reports which had gone forth against them, wherein they declare their undying attach- ment, both to the Church that had nursed them in her bosom, and to the land, from which a lofty feeling of enterprise, and the desire of founding a stricter form of government among themselves, had led to their voluntary expatriation. The expedition was by far the most important that had ever left the shores of England for the wilds of America, consisting of fifteen ships conveying about a thousand emigrants, among whom were several err-inent Noncon- formist ministers. Every necessary for the foundation of a permanent colony was carried out by the settlers. Winthrop himself had embarked on board the Arabella, so called after Lady Arabella Johnson, who, with her husband, were also passengers. This vessel and some of the others reached Massachusetts Bay in June and July, and found a settlement already established, under the auspices of Endicott, at Charlestown. Upon the opposite peninsula, which had been called, from its pe- culiar form, ' Trimountain,' and was then in a state of nature, inhabited by a single squatter, Winthrop determined to establish the seat of his government, and a town was accordingly begun, which, after the parent English birth-place of the principal emigrants, received the name of Boston. The others, as they arrived, formed a cluster of settlements at short distances around this central post, and thus the shores of Massachusetts Bay became sprinkled with infant HISTORY OF AMERICA. 77 towns, which have retained their local name and habitation unto the pre- chap. , VI. sent day. Although the hardships encountered by this large body of emigrants were * ' 163 °* not so severe as those which had befallen their brethren at Plymouth, they were felt the more severely on account of the superior delicacy and tender nurture to which they had been accustomed at home. The older settlers, far from rendering them assistance, flocked to them for food and succour. The winter, moreover, proved to be of unusual severity, even for this bitter climate. The weakest were winnowed by death, two hundred perished before De- cember. Among the first victims were the Lady Arabella Johnson and her husband. Many, terrified with the hardships to be encountered, lost heart and returned to England, where they spread the most injurious reports. But the hope of accomplishing that for which so many had left the luxuries and refinements of England, the desire to found on the shores of America a purer form of civil and religious government, sweetened to those that re- mained behind the temporary hardships through which they were called upon to pass. Their proceedings were eminently characteristic of the religious spirit by which they were animated. Their settlement had been consecrated by a solemn fast. They first assembled for worship under a large tree, but a church was forthwith constituted, and a pastor appointed, while the first ques- tion which arose at the first court of assistants was touching the maintenance of the ministers, for whom a due provision was immediately set apart. At the first general court, many new freemen were admitted, among whom were several of the early planters, and the right of filling up the vacancies that fell among the assistants, was conceded to them, but afterwards rescinded. A very extraordinary law was next enacted. " To the end that the body of commons may be preserved of good and honest men, it is ordered and agreed, that, for the time to come, no man shall be admitted to the freedom of the body politic, but such as are members of some of the churches within the limits of the same." The reason for this singular enactment is apparent. The Puritan emigrants had left England to establish a form of government which was afterwards vainly attempted during the revolution — a spiritual millennium, the reign of the saints upon the earth. In their eyes no one who had not been elected a member of Christ's church by saving grace, and was not thoroughly weaned from the corruptions of this present evil world, could be fitted to assume a share in the government of a Christian commonwealth, which was to be founded on the maxims, and conducted under the influence of the Bible. Hence their evident disposition to avoid an influx of the " baser sort," until their theocratic form of government had fully taken root. The excellence of their motives in shutting out from power those whom they deemed unfit for its participation, cannot of course be questioned. In those days toleration was unknown, and every religious party regarded it not only as a right, but even as a duty, to enforce conformity to its tenets by the power of the civil magistrate. 78 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. Under this arbitrary system, however, a large proportion of the popula- ■ — tion were deprived of political rights, and the legislation of this self-con- ' i63i. ' ' stituted body was characterized by a spirit of puritanical severity within themselves, and a harsh and rigid exclusiveness towards those without, which were not long in producing the same bitter fruits of persecution by which they had themselves suffered. The clergy acquired an undue degree of influence; minute enactments interfered with individual freedom of action, amusements which, though innocent in themselves, were supposed to be inconsistent with the gravity of professing Christians, were studiously dis- couraged, and devotional exercises substituted in their room. Under this austere and forbidding exterior, however, existed a spotless purity of life, the most exalted integrity, and the noblest patriotism. The faults of the Puritans arose partly out of their peculiar views, and partly from mistakes shared by them, at that day, in common with every other religious body. The evil report carried back by those who returned from the first emi- gration, operated at first as a great discouragement to others, and in the following year the number of new-comers was comparatively small. Among them, however, was the son of Winthrop the governor, and John Eliot, afterwards the great missionary to the Indians. A friendly connexion was formed with the people of Plymouth, and a trade opened with the colonists in Virginia, and the Dutch on the Hudson river, while an alliance was entered into with the neighbouring Indians. On the fourth year of the settlement, several hundred immigrants arrived, among whom were the wealthy and esti- mable Haynes, and two distinguished ecclesiastics, Cotton and Hooker. With the growing numbers and prosperity of the colonists, came an in- crease also in popular liberty and a growth of the democratic element. The jealous watchfulness of the great body of freemen had been excited by the levy of taxes under the sole authority of the assistants, and at the next general court they contended for the right of annually choosing the governor and offi- cers. This was conceded, and representatives appointed from the towns to confer on the affairs of the colony. Thus emboldened, the democratic spirit continued its encroachments. Men thrown upon their own resources at a distance from the control of the mother country ripen rapidly for freedom. At first the freemen, satisfied with the recognition of their claims, had re- elected their established officers ; two years later, notwithstanding a pulpit appeal from Cotton, against the rash changing of those in office, they pro- ceeded to choose a new governor in the place of Winthrop. They claimed and obtained besides, the right of legislative participation, and of levying taxes, with a written constitution, while the ballot box was also introduced in substitution for a show of hands by the voters. The same circumstances that had brought about this political change, had also affected the condition of the New England churches. Nominally sub- jected to the Church at home, these communities soon became practically independent of her authority, choosing their own ministers and officers, each acting for itself, while yet the whole were bound together by a general model HISTORY OF AMERICA. 79 established among themselves. Thus had Massachusetts already assumed its chap. distinctive character of a government at once within itself a church and VI. commonwealth, in which all the members possessed equal rights, and were to 1034. animated by the same earnest yet exclusive religious profession ; the profane and unregenerate being jealously shut out from any participation in power, and also forced to conform, at least externally, to the established form of re- ligion. /?'"' It was not long before this state of things, so happily established that it ex- cited the admiration and envy of the English Puritans, was rudely disturbed by a single individual, whose remarkable character combined an almost childish eccentricity about trifles, with a clearness of moral vision and a greatness of soul in other matters remarkably in advance of the times and circumstances in which he lived. This was Roger Williams, a young Puritan preacher, who, soon after his arrival in the colony, began to broach certain novelties and he- resies, which caused much perturbation among his brethren, and occasioned his removal to Plymouth, where he remained for two years. Returning to Mas- sachusetts, it was not long before he became involved in fresh disputes and difficulties. Among other fanatical scruples, he entertained one against the cross displayed on the English standard, as being a relic of Popery — he loudly inveighed against its being any longer tolerated by a reformed church; his views gained ground, and a division of the colony took place on this important subject. One half of the militia abhorred to follow a papistical ensign, the other refused to march under a mutilated banner : Endicott, one of the assistants, in an ebullition of zeal, cut out the obnoxious emblem ; and the dispute was only settled by a compromise, that the cross should be retained in the flags of forts and ships, but erased from those of the local militia. This, together with his affirmation of the unlawfulness of attending the ministry of any clergyman of the English Church, to which Williams had conceived a peculiar aversion, and other attempts at innovations, either trifling or mischievous, so zealously propagated, seem justly enough to have incurred the censure of his brethren in the ministry, not only as calculated to disturb the harmony of their theo- cratic state, but also to attract the attention of their enemies in England. An excess of conscientiousness had led him also, while at Plymouth, to preach against the lawfulness of the patent by which the colonists derived their terri- torial claims, as being unjustly granted at the expense of those of the Indians. This, however, he satisfactorily explained away. But his most serious and un- pardonable offence was, that he boldly affirmed the sacred right of private judgment, and the unlawfulness of persecution for conscience' sake. He in- veighed against the alleged authority of the magistrate to punish offences of the first table, to compel attendance upon Divine service under penalty, or to levy contributions from the unwilling for the support of the church. Nay, he affirmed that " the magistrate might not intermeddle even to stop a church from apostacy and heresy," that his jurisdiction extended solely to the tem- poral affairs of men, and that the removal of the " yoke of soul oppression," " as it will prove an act of mercy and righteousness to the enslaved nations, so 80 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, it is of binding force tc engage the whole and eveiy interest and conscience — — — to preserve the common liberty and peace."* .684. These principles strack at the very root of the theocratic constitution established by general consent of the colonists, and a conscientious conviction of their dangerous tendency, led the court at Boston earnestly to desire the re- moval of one whom they could not but regard as unsettled in judgment, and a troubler of the public peace. It was certainly unfortunate that the scru- ples of Williams were such as had a tendency to divide and weaken the colony, struggling as it was for independent existence, under the jealous and watchful eye of the arbitrary power in England. His agitations even tended to paralyse resistance against aggressions which they tended to bring about. The newly established liberties of the Massachusetts colonists were dear to them, and the magistrates having heard of dangerous designs against them on the part of the Episcopalians, it was resolved to administer a general pledge, called the " Freeman's Oath," to the effect that the colonists would support their local constitution against all foreign interference what- soever. But against the imposition of this oath also Williams raised such a spirit of resistance, that the magistrates were obliged to give way. In short, however excellent the principles he had espoused, it cannot be denied that his conduct bears some tinge of factious opposition, or, to say the least, of an ill-timed and narrow-minded scrupulosity. But his piety was so genuine, and his character so noble and disinterested, that the people of Salem, who knew and loved him, re-elected him for their pastor, in spite of the cen- sure of his doctrines by the court at Boston, an act of contumacy for which they were reprimanded and punished by the withholding a certain portion of lands. Such harshness aroused Williams to retort by a spirited protest, and he engaged the Salem church to join with him in a general appeal to the other churches against the injustice of which the magistrates had been guilty — a daring proceeding, for which the council suspended their franchise, and they shrunk from their leader, who was thus left absolutely alone. Upon this he openly renounced allegiance to what he deemed a persecuting church. His opinions and conduct were condemned by the council, who pronounced against him a sentence of banishment, but on account of the dangerous feeling of sympathy it awakened, decided shortly after on sending him back to England. It was the depth of a New England winter, when Williams fled into the wilderness, and took refuge among the Narragansett Indians, with whom he had become acquainted at Plymouth. He wandered several weeks through the snow-buried forests, before he reached their wigwams, where he was received and sheltered with the utmost kindness. In the spring he departed in quest of some spot where he could found an asylum for those who, like himself, were persecuted for conscience' sake. He first attempted a settlement at Sekonk, but afterwards, at the friendly suggestion of Winslow, the governor of Plymouth, removed to Narragansett Bay, where he received from the Indians a free grant of a considerable tract of country, and in June, 1636, fixed upon the * Bancroft — from a rare tract by Roger Williams. A. D. 1638. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 81 site of a town which he called "Providence," as being an appointed refuge chap. from his persecutions and wanderings. Here he was joined by many of his adherents from Salem, his lands were freely distributed among them, and thus arose the new State of Rhode Island ; the most free, and simple, and untram- melled in its institutions of any ever founded on the soil of America. Scarcely had the colony subsided after the excitement of this religious dis pute, when fresh troubles arose, from the operation of the same restless prin- ciple of private judgment applied to the investigation of the Scriptures. The providential establishment of the model State of New England, for such it was considered to be by the English Puritans, continued to attract considerable numbers of them; and among others who came over were Hugh Peters, the chaplain of Oliver Cromwell, and Mr. Henry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, a privy councillor, a young man of the highest principles and acquirements ; second in love of liberty to none of that noble band who stemmed the en- croachments of arbitrary power in England, of manners strict to austerity, and animated with the highest religious fervour, but of a subtle, restless, and speculative genius, which found its favourite field for exercise in the theological questions awakened and set afloat at the Reformation. The sonnet of Milton speaks of him as " young in years, but in sage counsel old," attributes to him the utmost skill in statesmanship, the most intimate knowledge of affairs " both spiritual and civil," and, as the highest and crowning encomium, calls him the " eldest son " of Religion, upon whose " firm hand she leans in peace." The emigration of so distinguished a personage, and of others who were prepar- ing to follow him, created no little stir among the Massachusetts freemen ; it was even proposed, to meet the desires of the new-comers, that an order of heredi- tary magistracy should be established ; but as this proposition was inconsistent with the peculiar constitution of the Massachusetts theocracy, which could be constituted by church members alone, it was eventually laid aside. Vane, however, was received with the highest honours, and presently elected as chief magistrate of the colony. Not long after his arrival arose a new religious fer- mentation, in which he himself soon became a prominent actor ; and as this controversy, and the important results to which it led, cannot be better or more succinctly stated than in the language of Robertson, it may be well to quote it. " It was the custom at that time in New England, among the chief men in every congregation, to meet once a week, in order to repeat the sermons which they had heard, and to hold religious conference with respect to the doctrines contained in them. Mrs. Hutchinson, whose husband was among the most respectable members of the colony, regretting that persons of her sex were excluded from the benefit of those meetings, assembled statedly in her house a number of women, who employed themselves in pious exercises similar to those of the men. At first she satisfied herself with repeating what she could recollect of the discourses delivered by their teachers. She began afterwards to add illustrations, and at length proceeded to censure some of the clergy as unsound, and to vent opinions and fancies of her own. These were all founded on the system which is denominated Antinomian by divines, and tinged with A. D. 1637. 8£ HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the deepest enthusiasm. She taught that sanctity of life is no evidence of jus- tification, or of a state of favour with God ; and that such as inculcated the necessity of manifesting the reality of our faith by obedience, preached only a covenant of works ; she contended that the Spirit of God dwelt personally in good men, and by inward revelations and impressions they received the fullest discoveries of the Divine will. The fluency and confidence with which she delivered these notions, gained her many admirers and proselytes, not only among the vulgar, but among the principal inhabitants. The whole colony was interested and agitated. Vane, whose sagacity and acuteness seemed to forsake him whenever they were turned towards religion, espoused and de- fended her wildest tenets. Many conferences were held, days of fasting and humiliation were appointed, a general synod was called; and, after dissen- sions which threatened the dissolution of the colony, Mrs. Hutchinson's opi- nions were condemned as erroneous, and she herself banished. Several of her disciples withdrew from the province of their own accord. Yane quitted America in disgust, unlamented even by those who had lately admired him ; some of them now regarded him as a mere visionary, and others, as one of those dark, turbulent spirits doomed to embroil every society into which they enter." The fate of Mrs. Hutchinson was as unhappy as her life was restless. After her retirement to Ehode Island, where she participated in all the toils and privations of a new settlement, she continued to promulgate her doctrines with the utmost ardour. Her sons, openly arraigning the justice of her banish- ment, were seized and thrown into prison. To fly beyond the reach of perse- cution, the whole family passed over into the territory of the Dutch, at the time when Kieft, the governor, had aroused by his rashness and cruelty vindictive reprisals on the part of the Indians. The dwelling cf Mrs. Hut- chinson was set on fire, and she perished with her children amidst the flames, or was murdered by the infuriated savages. In the mean time, Massachusetts continued to put forth numerous off-shoots from the parent stem. A permanent settlement had, in 1635, been formed in the beautiful valley of the Connecticut, which, from its rich and fertile levels, had, at an early period, become a subject of competition. The fort built by the Dutch has been already noticed : and now a large body of emigrants from Massa- chusetts prepared to push through the virgin forest to the desired spot, where the towns of Hartford, Windsor, and Wethersfield had already been founded. This proved to be an expedition of great hardship, from its being undertaken too late in the year. The cattle perished, provisions were exhausted, and many returned through the snows to the places whence they departed. A sta- tion for the fur trade had been for some time established at Windsor by another body of emigrants. Winthrop the younger had come out with Vane, author- ized by the proprietors to settle and take possession of the region. Next year a larger body, consisting of the members of two churches with their pastors, one of whom was the distinguished Hooker, (who is supposed by some to have desired a removal from the vicinity of Cotton, a rival preacher,) made their way through the wilderness, steering through the thick woods by compass, VI. A. D. 1636. HISTORY OF AMERICA. and driving their cattle before them through the tangled thickets. The com- chap. missioners also sent a party by water to found a fort at the mouth of the river, which, from the names of Lords Say and Sele and Lord Brooke, the propri- etaries, was called Say-brook. The rising colony was exposed to dissensions with the Dutch, and placed in jeopardy by hostilities with the neighbouring Indians, which they themselves had not originated. This war, which ended in the extermination of the Pequods, arose out of provocations and misunderstandings trivial in themselves, but which acquired a fatal importance from the secret feeling of fear and suspicion with which the Indians and the English regarded one another. The former could not behold the progress of the new comers without deep dissatisfaction ; they found the territory over which they had long exclusively reigned, encroached upon at various points, till they might apprehend, at no distant period, a final expulsion from the hunting grounds of their forefathers. On their part, the settlers looked with uneasiness upon the savages, like a dark cloud which threatened to burst over them when unprepared, as had been the case with the massacre of the settlers in Virginia ; and conscious of the feelings with which their gradual encroachments were secretly regarded, they determined to stand upon their guard, and to punish the first symptoms of aggression with stern and inexorable severity. The train thus laid, a single opark was suf- ficient to create an explosion. The Pequods were the most powerful confeder- acy in the neighbourhood of Narragansett Bay, their authority extending over twenty-six petty tribes. A band of them had murdered the captain of a Vir- ginia trading vessel, and as this incident created some alarm among the people of Massachusetts, the Pequods sent to Boston, urging that the deed had been hastily committed in revenge for some provocation on the part of the captain ; they offered to give up the surviving murderers, requested the good offices of the magistrates to effect a reconciliation with their enemies the Narragansetts, and desired to open a traffic. Satisfied with the apology, the Massachusetts magistrates effected the desired mediation ; but the murderers, perhaps from inability on the part of the Pequod Sachems, were not delivered up. Some time after, one Oldham, an old settler on Block Island, was murdered by a party of Narragansett Indians, in revenge for the trade he had opened with their late enemies the Pequods * Although Canonicus, the Narragansett Sachem, sent to make ample apology for a crime committed without his know- ledge, and, of course, without that of the Pequods, an expedition was sent to punish the Indians of Block Island, and thence the chief settlement of the Pe- quods, to demand the promised delivery of the murderers. Upon their refusal, he destroyed their villages, both there and on the Connecticut. The Pequods retaliated, and sent messengers to engage the Narragansetts in a conspiracy to cut off every white man from the soil. Poger Williams, who had sent timely information to the magistrates of Massachusetts, was entreated to prevent, if possible, the dreaded coalition. He hastened to the Narragansetts, among whom his virtues were regarded with veneration, and was happily successful * The account given of this transaction by Hildreth is followed. m 2 84 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1637. chap, in frustrating the influence of the Pequod messengers, and engaging the goodwill, or at least the neutrality, of the Narragansetts. The unfortunate Pequods, thus compelled to stand alone, and forced into a war, rather by a concurrence of accidents than by any direct purpose of hos- tility, determined to carry it on with their hereditary spirit. After their usual tactics, they began to cut off the detached settlers on the Connecticut river by surprise, and carry off their scalps, and they even ventured to attack Fort Say-brook. These cruelties soon led to the organization of an expedition against them on the part of the people of Connecticut, as well as those of Mas- sachusetts. Having obtained the alliance of Uncas, Sachem of the Mohegans, the greater part of the able-bodied men, under the command of Mason, who had been a soldier in Flanders, prepared for their departure. It was a peiilous crisis ; should they fail in the enterprise, the infant settlement, left without defenders, would fall into the power of their vindictive enemies — their wives and children would be ruthlessly scalped. The night was spent in solemn prayer. On the morrow the militia embarked at Hartford, and being joined by twenty men from Boston, under the command of Underhill, sailed past the Thames, and entered, unobserved, a harbour in the vicinity of the Pequod Fort. They rested on the following sabbath, and early in the week endeavoured to engage the assistance of the Narragansetts, whose Sachem, Miantonimoh, at first joined them with a large body of men, who on learning that the intention of the English was to attack the Pequod forts with so small a body, were panic- struck, and most of them retreated. The catastrophe cannot be better described than in the words of Trumbull, the historian of Connecticut. " After marching under the guidance of a revolted Pequod to the vicinity of the principal fort, they pitched their little camp between, or near, two large rocks, in Groton, since called Porter's rocks. The men were faint and weary, and though the rocks were their pillows, their rest was sweet. The guards and sentinels were considerably advanced in front of the army, and heard the enemy singing at the fort, who continued their rejoicings even until midnight. They had seen the vessels pass the harbour some days before, and had con- cluded that the English were afraid, and had no courage to attack them. The night was serene, and towards morning the moon shone clear. The im- portant crisis was now come, when the very existence of Connecticut, under Providence, was to be determined by the sword in a single action, and to be decided by the good conduct of less than eighty brave men. The Indians who remained were now sorely dismayed, and though at first they had led the van, and boasted of great feats, yet were now fallen back in the rear. About two hours before day the men were roused with all expedition, and, briefly commending themselves and their cause to God, advanced immediately to the fort, and sent for the Indians in the rear to come up. Uncas and Obequash at length appeared. The captain demanded of them where the fort was. They answered, on the top of the hill. He demanded of them where were the other Indians. They answered that they were much afraid. The captain sent to them not to fly, but to surround the fort at any distance they pleased, and VI. A. D. 1637. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 85 see whether Englishmen would fight. The day was nearly dawning, and no ch^ap, time was now to be lost. The men pressed on in two divisions, Captain Mason to the north-eastern, and Underhill to the western entrance. As the object which they had been so long seeking came into view, and while they reflected that they were to fight not only for themselves, but their parents, wives, chil- dren, and the whole colony ; the martial spirit kindled in their bosoms, and they were wonderfully animated and assisted. As Captain Mason advanced within a rod or two of the fort, a dog barked, and an Indian roared out, — c Owanux ! Owanux ! ' that is, Englishmen ! Englishmen ! The troops pressed on, and as the Indians were rallying, poured in upon them, through the pali- sadoes, a general discharge of their muskets, and then wheeling off to the principal entrance, entered the fort sword in hand. Notwithstanding the sud- denness of the attack, and the blaze and thunder of the arms, the enemy made a manly and desperate resistance. Captain Mason and his party drove the Indians in the main street towards the west part of the fort, where some bold men, who had forced their way, met them, and made such slaughter among them, that the street was soon clear of the enemy. They secreted themselves in and behind their wigwams, and, taking advantage of every covert, main- tained an obstinate defence. The captain and his men entered the wigwams, where they were beset with many Indians, who took every advantage to shoot them, and lay hands upon them, so that it was with great difficulty that they could defend themselves with their swords. After a severe conflict, in which many of the Indians were slain, some of the English killed, and others sorely wounded, the victory still hung in suspense. The captain, finding himself much exhausted, and out of breath, as well as his men, by the extraordinary exertions w T hich they had made in this critical state of action, had recourse to a successful expedient. He cries out to his men, ' We must burn them ! ' He immediately, entering a wigwam, took fire and put it into the mats with which the wigwams were covered. The fire instantly kindling, spread with such violence, that all the Indian houses were soon wrapped in one general flame. As the fire increased, the English retired without the fort, and com- passed it on every side. Uncas and his Indians, with such of the Narragan- setts as yet remained, took courage from the example of the English, and formed another circle in the rear of them. The enemy were now seized with astonishment ; and, forced by the flames from their lurking-places into open light, became a fair mark for the English soldiers. Some climbed the pali- sadoes, and were instantly brought down by the fire of the English muskets. Others, desperately sallying forth from their burning cells, were shot, or cut to pieces with the sword. Such terror fell upon them, that they would run back from the English into the very flames. Great numbers perished in the conflagration. The greatness and violence of the fire, the reflection of the light, the flashing and the roar of the arms, the shrieks and yellings of the men, women, and children, in the fort, and the shouting of the Indians with- out, just at the dawning of the morning, exhibited a grand and awful scene. In little more than an hour, this whole work of destruction was finished. Se- 86 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, venty wigwams were burnt, and five or six hundred Indians perished, either - — by the sword, or in the flames. A hundred and fifty warriors had been sent to i64o. on the evening before, who, that very morning, were to have gone forth against the English. Of these and all who belonged to the fort, seven only escaped, and seven were made prisoners. It had been previously concluded not to burn the fort, but to destroy the enemy, and take the plunder ; but the captain afterwards found it the only expedient, to obtain the victory and save his men. Thus parents and children, the sannap and squaw, the old man and the babe, perished in promiscuous ruin." In the midst of this frightful scene a large body of Pequod warriors arrived to join their brethren at the fort. Frantic with horror and revenge, they rushed upon the conquerors, but were easily driven back, and compelled to retreat. A portion of the victors hastily returned to prevent a surprise of their homes by the Indians, while Mason, having sent his wounded by a vessel just arrived from Boston, marched across the country to Fort Saybrook, where he was received by the commandant with a discharge of artillery. What the men of Connecticut had thus begun, was finished by the militia from Massachusetts, who shortly after arrived upon the scene of action. The Pequods were hunted from their hiding-places in the swamps ; their forts de- stroyed; their fugitive chief, Sassacus, murdered by the Mohawks, among whom he had taken refuge ; the male prisoners sold into slavery in the West Indies ; the women and children retained as domestic drudges. Some few who escaped were incorporated into other tribes, and the very name of the once proud and powerful Pequods was blotted from the earth. This ruthless process of extermination, which was regarded by the pious settlers in the light of a providential victory over their " heathen " enemies, had the effect of striking such terror into the surrounding Indians, that the peace of the colony was not again disturbed by them for many years afterward. The religious dissensions caused by the arbitrary standard set up in Mas- sachusetts, had the beneficial effect of causing different emigrations, promoted for directly opposite ends. To obtain a more unlimited freedom, Williams had laid the foundation of Rhode Island, while the desire of enjoying a still more exclusive degree of puritanical strictness, prompted the establishment by Davenport of the colony of New Haven, in which church-membership was the condition of citizenship, and the Bible the only code of legislation. Wheel- wright, banished for his participation in the heresies of Mrs. Hutchinson, went forth and planted Exeter. Captain Underhill, involved in the same quarrel, and suspected moreover of licence rather soldier-like than edifying, was, notwithstanding his bravery, expelled, upon which he retired to Dover. Others also departed and founded separate and independent congregations, until the whole land was sprinkled with settlements, so many little oases amidst the wide-spreading forest which had so lately covered it, and which began rapidly to open before the axe of the sturdy woodman. Among these settlements was that of Rowley in Massachusetts, formed by a company of Yorkshire clothiers, under the pastoral superintendence of the pious Ezekiel Rogers. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 87 The wild indented coast of Maine had also become sprinkled with a few chap. settlements, the progress of which, however, was for some time extremely slow. — The name of Sir Ferdinando Gorges will be held in honour as one of the most to 1623. persevering of all the planters of the American continent. Having obtained a charter from the Plymouth company, he sent out more than one expedition, but to little or no purpose. One of these, commanded by Raleigh Gilbert and George Popham, repaired to the mouth of the Kennobec, to lay the foundation of a colony, but were compelled to abandon the scheme. A second body of settlers established themselves at the mouth of the Piscatoqua, under a patent granted to Gorges and Mason, for a tract called Laconia, where they founded Portsmouth and Dover. Mason, who had been associated with Gorges in this scheme, obtained a grant of the territory of New Hampshire, a tract discovered by Martin Pring, but his affairs fell into disorder, and he soon after died. Gorges obtained a new charter for the incorporation of all his grants under the name of Maine, drew up an elaborate scheme for the govern- ment of a territory as yet little better than a wilderness, and sent out his kins- man, Thomas Gorges, with numerous subordinates, to administer it. A Scotchman, Sir William Alexander, had also obtained from James I. the ter- ritory of Acadie, already granted by Henry IV. of France to his subjects, and changed its name to Nova Scotia. These confused and conflicting charters and claims originated much private litigation and international hostility. The Plymouth company had endeavoured to assert their exclusive right to the fisheries off their coasts, and to levy a tax upon the numerous fishing vessels that frequented them. They even appointed one West, as " Admiral of New England," with authority to assert their claims ; but this was found to be im- possible, Virginia refused to submit, and the whole line of coast was soon studded with little fishing stations, the nurseries of hardy seamen, and the origin of a most lucrative commerce. The material and intellectual progress of the colony, in spite of all its religious dissensions, had, owing to the energetic character of the New England settlers, been steady and rapid. Trade continued to increase, vessels were built, water and wind mills were set up ; the towns and villages began to assume a settled appearance. Although intercourse between the settlements, divided by large intervals of forest, was chiefly carried on by coasting. No plantation on the shores of America had made, as it was universally conceded, so unexampled a progress within so short a period, or gave promise of such a brilliant career of future greatness. Such was the flourishing state of the New England colonies about the time of the breaking out of the English Revolution. 88 HISTORY OF AMERICA. CHAPTER VII. COLONIZATION OF MARYLAND BY LORD BALTIMORE.— ITS ADVANTAGES AND PROGRESS.— DISPUTE WITH CLAYBORNE. — ESTABLISHMENT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION. chap. "While Virginia was compelled to pass through various struggles before at- taining her liberties, and Massachusetts strenuously contended against the to 1632. ' liberty of private judgment, another colony was founded, of which representa- tive government and religious toleration were fundamental principles ; and, singularly enough, under the auspices of a member of that Church which had itself first set the example of persecution for conscience' sake. The Roman Catholics in England, from being the oppressors, had of late become the op- pressed, under the combined operation of public prejudice and of Episcopalian and Puritanical rancour. Sir George Calvert, a native of Yorkshire, a scholar and traveller, so popular in his native county, by far the largest in England, as to be chosen as its representative in parliament, and so great a favourite at court as to have become one of the secretaries of state, had become a convert to the proscribed faith. With honourable candour he avowed his opinions, and tendered the resignation of his office. Far, however, from losing the influence he had obtained, he was loaded with fresh favours, and soon after created an Irish peer, by the title of Lord Baltimore. He had been one of the original associates of the Virginia company, and had tried an experimental colony of his own upon the island of Newfoundland, which, after having twice visited, he at length resolved to abandon. He then turned his attention to Virginia, where he met with little encouragement to engage in a settlement, the oath of allegiance, expressly framed so as that no Catholic could con- scientiously subscribe it, being expressly and offensively tendered for his adop- tion. He thus became desirous of obtaining a settlement to which the Ca- tholics might repair unmolested, and on his return to England had little dif- ficulty in obtaining from Charles I. a grant of a considerable tract on the river Potomac, which, in compliment to the queen, Henrietta Maria, he denomin- ated Maryland. Baltimore was a man of clear and comprehensive mind, of high and generous character ; he appreciated the necessity of a popular go- vernment, as well as of its independence of the despotism of the crown ; and thus the charter which gave to him, and to his heirs, the absolute proprietor- ship in the soil, together with the power of making necessary laws, was coupled with the condition that nothing should be enacted without the advice, con- sent, and approbation of the freemen of the province, or their representatives convoked in general assembly, and nothing enacted but what was in spirit, if HISTORY OF AMERICA. 89 not in letter, consonant to the laws of England. It was also the first instance chap. in which the local proprietary was exempted from the control of the crown, — and from the power of parliamentary taxation. Sir George Calvert died before to i'mX" the patent had been arranged, which was, however, confirmed to his son, Cecil Calvert, who appointed his natural brother, Leonard Calvert, to the command of the company destined to found a colony under auspices so peculiarly fa- vourable. They embarked on board the Ark and the Dove, in number about two hundred — the great body of the settlers being Roman Catholics, many of them ranking among the gentry. After a circuitous voyage by way of the West Indies, where they spent the winter, they arrived on the shores of Virginia, where, notwithstanding the jealousy of the inhabitants at so close an infringe- ment upon their own territory and upon the commercial advantages derived from the possession of the Chesapeake, the new settlers were courteously received by the governor, Harvey. Shortly after Calvert entered the Poto- mac, and upon a spot, partly occupied, and about to be abandoned by the Indians, and ceded by them next year in full to the emigrants, he built the little village of St. Mary's. Every colony planted on the American soil had passed through a season of hardship and calamity ; the foundation of Maryland was the first exception. The favourable provisions of the charter, the liberal spirit of the institutions, and the readiness with which the Indians conceded to the settlers a footing on the soil, the unanimity of design, the ready supply of all their wants by the neighbouring colonists through the liberal outlay of the proprietor, all concurred to promote the peaceful establishment and rapid progress of the new colony. Its harmony was, however, disturbed, by a dispute arising out of some prior claims to an exclusive trade upon a portion of the territory included in the patent. "William Clayborne, an enterprising member of the council of Vir- ginia, after surveying the different branches of the Chesapeake, satisfied with the advantages of the region for opening an advantageous traffic, had ob- tained a grant from Charles L, authorizing the formation of a trading company, and had built an establishment at Kent Island, in the heart of the territory now made over to Lord Baltimore, of whose patent he had endeavoured to invalidate the legality as being opposed to his own prior claims, although no right to the territory had been assigned to him with his trading patent. His appeal was set aside, and, esteeming himself to be aggrieved by this decision, he not only en- deavoured to prevent the progress of the colony by prejudicing the Indians against it, but actually fitted out a vessel to resist or capture the boats of the new settlers. After a bloody skirmish Clayborne's men were defeated, and his trading station seized, while he himself was obliged to fly into Virginia, where the justice of his claims was universally recognised. The first colonial as- sembly of Maryland having assembled, passed an act of attainder against him, and required that he should be given up to them for trial by the government of Virginia. But the strong feeling in his favour existing in the latter colony determined Harvey, the governor, to evade this demand by sending him to England for trial, together with the witnesses against him. 90 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. The tendency to self-government which seems to have sprung up in the ■ — breasts of the English colonists simultaneously with the first crop raised by to 1*649. them from the soil, appeared in the proceedings of the first council convened in Maryland. Popular as was Lord Baltimore with the colonists, and liberal his provisions in their favour, they watched with jealousy the slightest tend- ency to encroachment on his part. In this spirit they rejected, by virtue of the power vested in them, a body of laws sent over by him for their accept- ance, and insisted on being allowed to take the initiative in legislation. With the next assembly came the establishment of representative government. The " rights and liberties of Holy Church " were especially protected, but no provisions were made to enforce conformity to her dogmas. This was alike repugnant to the spirit of the founder of the colony, and indeed impossible in the state of public opinion against the Catholics. Whether from ne- cessity or policy, or more honourable reasons, practical toleration was at all events established in Maryland, which thus became an asylum for those ex- posed to persecution in the other colonies as well as in the parent country. Experience further demonstrated the inestimable blessing, almost then un- known, of a free religious toleration, and it was decisively confirmed by statute ten years afterwards. Liberty of opinion was not indeed, nor could it well have been, as absolute as in our own times. A general profession of belief in Tri- nitarian Christianity was required, and so-called "blasphemy" severely pun- ished ; but with this limitation the terms of the statute forbade any interference in, or even reproachful censure of, the private opinions or modes of worship, already sufficiently numerous and eccentric, established among the citizens. " Whereas," it states, " the enforcing of the conscience in matters of religion hath frequently fallen out to be of dangerous consequence in those common- wealths where it hath been practised, and for the more quiet and peaceable government of this province, no persons whatsoever, professing to believe in Jesus Christ, shall from henceforth be in any ways troubled, molested, or dis- countenanced, for, or in respect of, his or her religion, nor in the free exercise thereof; nor any way compelled to the belief or exercise of any religion against his or her consent, so that they be not unfaithful to the lord proprietary, or molest or conspire against the civil government established." HISTORY OF AMERICA. 91 to 1634. CHAPTER VIII. THE NEW ENGLAND STATES DURING THE PARLIAMENT. — PERSECUTIONS OP THE BAPTISTS AND QUAKERS IN MASSACHUSETTS.— ELLIOT AND THE INDIANS. — GENERAL PROGRESS OF THE NORTHERN COLONIES. The effects of the great struggle now going on in England between Charles I. C vin P * and his parliament were not unfelt even on the distant shores of New Eng- A# D ]630 land. The settlement of the Plymouth Pilgrims had occurred with little or no notice, and the increasing interest of affairs at home had so occupied attention, that Massachusetts was allowed to grow up, and assume a distinct and independent policy, before any interference was threatened by the minis- ters. It had been the wise endeavour of the founders of the infant State to avoid, as far as possible, attracting the attention of those in power, and to veil over their great design, the founding of an independent theocracy, by the external profession of loyalty to the monarch as well as obedience to the Church. But in spite of this cautious policy, their designs had leaked out, and their proceedings had begun to attract the serious attention of the ministers of Charles. Those Episcopalians who had been expelled from Salem by the rashness and fanaticism of Endicott were loud in their complaints. The council for New England was summoned to answer for the alleged misconduct of the settlers under their charter. But not only did this body repudiate all responsibility on account of the Massachusetts freemen, but laboured still further for their inculpation. They charged them with surreptitiously procur- ing a grant of lands previously conveyed to others, for which, without the concurrence of the council, they had obtained a private charter. The accus- ation, however, which more especially attracted the jealous eye of Archbishop Laud was, that they had virtually " made themselves a free people," and " framed unto themselves new laws in matters of religion, and ecclesiastical forms, departure from which they had punished by the severest penalties." These unwarrantable encroachments the council declared itself unable to restrain or punish, and therefore referred the whole matter to the gracious in- terference of his Majesty and the privy council. No invitation could be more welcome to the bigoted Archbishop. He had received private information of the secret designs of the Massachusetts planters, he had witnessed with uneasiness the rapid stream of emigration which was caused by his arbitrary measures, and had found that many of " the best " were going over to strengthen the hands of the detested Puritans. An embargo was laid upon vessels bound to New England; the letters K 2 VIII. 9£ HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, patent of the company were imperiously demanded, and a special commission was appointed, giving to himself and his creatures full power to introduce into the New England colonies the same atrocious system by which he was vainly labouring at home to crush the cause of civil and religious liberty. The Plymouth company having surrendered their charter to the king, a " quo warranto " was issued against the Massachusetts colonists. The freemen were outlawed, and the resignation of their patent demanded, under the threat of his Majesty's assuming the management of the colony. An evasive remonstrance was sent over by the council, in the hope of averting the threat- ened attack upon their liberties, against which they made meanwhile every preparation for a determined resistance. The fort was ordered to be garrisoned, and other defences hastily prepared. But the distance from home, and, above all, the increasing troubles in England, which now engrossed the whole atten- tion of the ministry, prevented their carrying out the dreaded project. The acts in the great drama of the revolution now succeeded each other with a rapidity that kept all men in a state of breathless suspense and excitement. It was no longer needful to lay an embargo upon emigrants to Massachusetts, many of its citizens repairing home to take a part in the agitating but glo- rious scene. The Scotch had entered England, the Long Parliament had been called, arbitrary power had been swept away, and a complete change had taken place in the system of legislation. Strafford was impeached, condemned, and executed. Laud soon after followed him to the scaffold ; the Church, whose authority he had laboured by every species of cruel persecution to enforce, was dissolved and proscribed, and Puritanism, which it was the great object of his life to extirpate, was triumphantly established in power. Meanwhile the colony was left undisturbed to the development of her internal resources, and to the framing of a " Body of Liberties." Of these the rough draft, having been prepared by the council, was sent round and submitted, first to the local magistrates and elders, then to the freemen at large for due consideration and improvement : and having been thus decided upon, they were at length formally adopted. After three years' trial they were to be revised, and finally established. These laws, about a hundred in number, are characteristic and curious. The supreme power was still to re- side in the hands ^f the church members alone ; universal suffrage was not conceded, but every citizen was allowed to take a certain share in the business of any public meeting. Some degree of liberty was granted to private churches and assemblies of different Christians, but the power of veto was still vested in the supreme council, who might arbitrarily put down any proceedings which they deemed heterodox and dangerous, and punish or expel their authors. Strangers and refugees professing the true Christian religion were to be received and sheltered. Bond-slavery, villanage, or cap- tivity, except in the case of lawful captives taken in war, or any who should either sell themselves or be sold by others, were to be abolished. Injurious monopolies were not to be allowed. Idolatry, witchcraft, and blasphemy, or wilful disturbing of the established order of the state, were punishable with VJII. A.D.I 635. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 93 death. All torture was prohibited, unless whipping, ear-cropping, and the chap. pillory, which were retained as wholesome and necessary punishments, might be so considered. The liberties of women, children, and servants are defined in a more benevolent spirit, in harmony with the milder institutes of the Mosaic law so constantly referred to by the framers of the document. The infant province of New Hampshire sought and obtained annexation, on equal terms, to its more powerful neighbour Massachusetts. Shortly after- wards, in 1643, the whole of the scattered settlements resolved upon uniting in one common confederation, under the name of the " United Colonies of New England." This union was suggested after the Pequod war, by the necessity of making common cause against the Indians, as well as against the encroachments of the Dutch in Connecticut, and of the French on the coast of Maine. It consisted of the colonies of New Plymouth, New Haven, Con- necticut, and Massachusetts. The preservation of "gospel truth" being a principal object of the confederacy, all the delegates were accordingly to be church members. Two of these were to be sent by each colony, annually, or oftener if necessary. They were to choose a president, and all questions were to be decided by six votes out of the eight. They were to meet alter- nately at Boston, Hartford, New Haven, and Plymouth. Each State was to retain its local rights of legislation, and no new plantation could be received without the approval of the others. No war was to be levied by any one of the colonies without the consent of the rest, and although the expenses of a war were to be defrayed out of a common fund, yet should any colony have brought a war upon itself or the rest by its own fault, it was to make satis- faction to the adverse party, and to bear in addition the entire expense of the war. Runaway servants were to be restored, and legal judgments in one colony to be held valid in the rest. Such were the principal points of this famous compact, the idea of which was borrowed from the provinces of Hol- land, and suggested perhaps in turn the great federation of the United States of America, in which some of its provisions were retained. Enacted with entire independence of the control of the mother country, it nevertheless sub- sisted until its abrogation by the arbitrary power of the last of the Stuarts. Armed as they were with an absolute power to restrain, although certainly not private belief in, yet at least open profession of, any creed differing from their established standard, it was not long before the Massachusetts fathers were called upon to fence off their orthodoxy against a crowd of troublesome intruders. The carrying out to its ultimate results the principle of free private judgment continued to breed new forms of visionary speculation, and of doc- trinal subtleties, with a perilous unloosening of the ordinary principles of morals. Such was the Antinomianism of Mrs. Hutchinson, and such, though in a minor degree, was the doctrine of the Anabaptists, so fearfully carried out by the fanatics of Munster. This doctrine, against which peculiar prejudices might then well be enter- tained, although it has now moderated into a mere question of the time and A. D. 1G43 94 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h a p. mode of baptism, now appeared for the first time in New England. The restless Williams had embraced it, and became the founder of the first Baptist church in America, and the foundations of Newport were laid by a body of these sectarians. Their views gained ground, the orthodox churches were troubled, and numerous complaints were made against the innovators, who had renounced all communion with their brethren, and propagated their pe- culiar dogmas with indefatigable zeal. Clark and Holmes, two of the leaders, were seized on the sabbath, as they were in the act of preaching, and forcibly carried off to attend the more orthodox services of a neighbouring church. The moment the minister began to pray, Clark put on his hat, for which insult he was allowed the alternative of fine or flagellation. Anxious, pos- sibly, to obtain sympathy as a martyr, he fearlessly chose the latter punish- ment, and thirty lashes were accordingly inflicted upon him. The activity and obstinacy of the new sectaries provoked the severest measures of preven- tion and punishment ; a sentence of expatriation was pronounced against all who should openly assert their obnoxious tenets, and many were accordingly sent forth from the colony. Samuel Gorton was a religious enthusiast of a different vein, one who enter- tained certain refined and mystical views of the doctrines of Scripture peculiar to himself; to whom there was "no heaven but in the heart of the good man, no hell but in the conscience of the wicked;" who looked upon the doctrinal formulas and church ordinances of the orthodox Puritans as human inventions, alike unauthorized and mischievous, and regarded their assumed authority as an intolerable yoke of bondage, which he was careless and daring enough to defy or ridicule. The "soul tyranny" of the Massachusetts theocracy seems indeed, as a natural result, invariably to have stimulated to opposition and de- fiance. Gorton, expelled from Plymouth, retired to the neighbourhood of Providence, where he had become involved in further dispute with some of the inhabitants, who invited the interference of Massachusetts. He was cited to ap- pear before the magistrates of Boston, but he preferred to retire still farther from their reach, and having purchased some land of Miantonomoh, the Nar- ragansett chief and the ally of the colonists in the Pequod war, commenced an independent settlement. The rightfulness' of this grant of Miantonomoh's was denied by two inferior Sachems ; their appeal was confirmed by the Boston magistrates, to whom they now made over the disputed territory. Gorton was summoned to appear before the court at Boston ; he replied with a counter-summons of defiance, denied the legality or impartiality of their proceedings, and offered to submit the case to the arbitration of the other colonists. A strong party was sent out to seize him and his adherents, and being taken and conveyed to Boston, he was shortly after brought before the court on the charge of being a blasphemous subverter of " true religion and civil government." He vainly endeavoured to explain away the obnoxious imputations, and being convicted, was by the greater part of the magistrates sentenced to death, although this, at the instance of the deputies, was commuted to imprisonment and hard labour, which was also inflicted upon his adherents A. D. 1643. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 95 who had been taken with him. Not even the fear of death could, however, c n a p. restrain their zeal, and they were accordingly sent ouv of the colony. Gorton soon after returned to England, where he found, for a while, a suitable scope for his doctrinal phantasies amidst the sectarian disputes of the time. . Far different was the fate of Miantonomoh. Between himself and Uncas, chief of the Mehegans, the firm ally of the English, and who had placed him- self under their protection, a bitter hatred subsisted ; and mutual hostilities had broken out, as it is said, in consequence of an aggression on the part of Uncas. Miantonomoh was taken prisoner, the intercession of Gorton saved him from immediate death, but Uncas carried his captive to Hartford, and referred his fate to the decision of the commissioners for the United Colonies. The Narragansett chief was, on many grounds, obnoxious to the English ; he was looked upon as a " turbulent spirit, whom it would be dangerous to set at liberty ; " moreover he was the friend of Gorton and of Williams, through whose agency indeed he had been prevented from joining in the conspiracy of the Pequods. Yet the consciences of the council could not be satisfied without at least some decent pretext for his legal condemnation ; and he was charged with the murder of a servant belonging to the Mohegan chief. It was decided that he should die, but not by the sentence of the council; and they accordingly ordered him to be delivered over to Uncas, who was permitted to convey him beyond the bounds of the colony, and deal with him summarily, after his own fashion, but without the infliction of torture. The exulting Uncas hastened to fulfil this welcome command, and the instant he had passed the border, drove his hatchet into the skull of the unfortunate Miantonomoh, and even glutted his savage appetite of revenge by drinking the blood and tasting the flesh of his victim. During the progress of the civil war in England, it may be well imagined, that the sympathies of the people of Massachusetts were in favour of the " Godly Parliament," although they wisely determined not to involve them- selves in the dispute. There were not wanting, however, among them, some " malignant spirits," who were disposed to stir in favour of the king, English vessels, belonging to the rival factions, having come to action even in Boston Bay ; but a strict neutrality was now enforced. When the Parliament had fully established its authority, friendly invitations were sent over to the min- isters of New England to attend the conference at Westminster, and to sue for additional privileges ; yet the wise and wary heads of the Massachusetts fathers evaded a proposal which, while it might tend to breed dangerous in- novations, could add nothing to the virtual independence which they al- ready enjoyed. Satisfied that they had built up the best of all possible com- monwealths, they had determined to defend their newly-established theocracy against the troublesome interference of either king or parliament. This latter body had indeed appointed a board of control for the colonies, of which the Earl of Warwick was governor, and Vane, Pym, and Cromwell members. This board was endowed with very ample general powers, and might appoint at pleasure governors, counsellors, and officers. No interference with the ( VIII A. D. 1C45 96 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ii a p. established order of things was as yet attempted, a friendly feeling subsisted between the parties, and the exports and imports of Massachusetts were ex- empted from taxation. Not only had the council to watch jealously against external interference, but also to repress a dangerous fermentation within its own boundaries. The strict exclusiveness and rigid regimen of the self-constituted government ap- peared, to a large body of those without, to be as unjust as it was unpalatable. The harshness considered necessary to repress the vagaries of different sect- aries had not only tended to increase their acrimony, but appeared to many, both at home and abroad, in the light of a cruel persecution. There was also a dangerous party, who were aiming at the establishment of Presbyterianism, and the re-modelling of the state by the authority of parliament. A spirit of determined opposition against the authority of the council was awakened. The people rejected fresh officers recommended by authority, and re-nominated the old, merely to show their independence. At length the dispute arose to a head. Winthrop, the governor, in the exercise of a legal right, had set aside a military election at Hingham. Complaint was eagerly made, and Winthrop stood upon his defence before the general court, which was divided in opinion, the minority being in favour of the people, the majority siding with the go- vernor. After a stormy discussion, Winthrop was declared to be honourably acquitted, when he ascended the bench and delivered a speech, in which the peculiar views entertained by the leaders of Massachusetts, and the limitations imposed by them on popular liberty, are so well expounded, that we cannot do better than quote it. " The questions," said Mr. Winthrop, " that have troubled the country have been about the authority of the magistracy and the liberty of the people. It is you who have called us unto this office ; but being thus called, we have our authority from God. I entreat you to consider, that when you choose magis- trates, you take them from among yourselves, men subject unto like passions with yourselves. If you see our infirmities, reflect on your own, and you will not be so severe censurers of ours. The covenant between us and you, is the oath you have exacted from us, which is to this purpose, ' That we shall go- vern you and judge your causes according to God's laws, and the particular statutes of the land, according to our best skill ! As for our skill, you must run the hazard of it ; and if there be an error only therein, and not in the will, it becomes you to bear it. Nor would I have you mistake in the point of your own liberty. There is a liberty of a corrupt nature, which is affected both by men and beasts, to do what they list. This liberty is inconsistent with au- thority ; impatient of all restraint, 'tis the grand enemy of truth and peace, and all the ordinances of God are bent against it. But there is a civil, a moral, a federal liberty, which is the proper end and object of authority: it is a liberty for that only which is just and good. For this liberty you are to stand with the hazard of your very lives ; and whatsoever crosses it is not authority, but a distemper thereof. This liberty is maintained in a way of subjection to authority ; and the authority set over you will, in all administrations for your HISTORY OF AMERICA. 97 good, be quietly submitted unto by all such as have a disposition to shake off chap. the yoke, and lose their true liberty by their murmuring at the honour and power ot authority. The defeat of the popular party seemed almost their victory, since they had indirectly obtained the concession, that the council for life should be deprived of its military authority, and they soon put forth fresh demands. A petition, got up by dissentients of different sects and parties, was presented, headed by Child, a young physician, recently arrived from England, where the doc- trines of toleration were making rapid progress. Complaining of the exclusion of all but church members from a share in the government, they prayed that civil liberty and freedom might be granted to all " truly English," and that members of other English or Scotch churches might be admitted to the same privileges as those of New England. They charged the government with being " ill compacted," and threatened, in default of redress, to appeal to the government at home. A similar movement had taken place at Plymouth, whence the governor, Winslow, wrote to Winthrop, " admiring how sweet this carrion," this indiscriminate toleration of all sects, alike clamorous for pre- eminence, " relished in the palate of most of the deputies." It was thrown out, however, as " being that which would eat out all power of godliness." Child was summoned to appear before the council, where he endeavoured to argue the matter, but was speedily silenced and fined, whereupon he pre- pared to sail with a new petition for parliamentary interference in favour of the non-freemen, but being seized before he could embark, was amerced in still heavier penalties. Another incident had occurred which added to the gravity of the crisis. Gor- ton had made interest in England in favour of his claim to the land of which he had been dispossessed by the council, and now sent over his agent, armed with a letter of safe-conduct from the parliament, together with an order from them to allow him present possession of the disputed territory, until their final judg- ment could be pronounced. Such an assumption of authority on the part of the parliament struck directly at the root of the independence of Massachu- setts. The council, with closed doors, anxiously investigated the nature of their relation to the parent state ; and it was agreed upon after much discus- sion, that allegiance, rather nominal indeed than real, was to be paid to Eng- land, but that the right of regulating their internal affairs belonged exclu- sively to the council. In the critical position of affairs, however, and menaced both at home and abroad, they decided on adopting the policy of conciliation, and Winslow, who had influential friends in London, was deputed to repair thither to obtain the countenance of parliament by amicable means. In the same vessel with the agent thus sent over to defend the cause of the council, sailed another who carried out a copy of the obnoxious petition which, laboured to subvert their authority. This personage was William Vassall, a mem- ber of the Plymouth colony, one whose restless liberalism would have involved him in trouble, but that his brother happened to be an influential member of parliament, on which ground he was therefore reluctantly allowed to embark. A. D. 1647. 98 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. But in his parting sermon to the passengers, the zealous Cotton had declared, that " if any should carry writings or complaints against the people of God in that country to England, it would be as Jonas in the ship/' a hint which his pious shipmates were not slow in understanding. A storm arose, the trunk containing the obnoxious papers was thrown overboard, but Vassall had secretly preserved copies. On their arrival both parties commenced their counter-intrigue. The apparently noble, though specious appeal of the council, together with the private interest of Winslow with Vane and other influential members, carried the day. " We have not admitted your authority," said the remonstrance, " being assured they cannot stand with the liberty and power granted us by our charter, and would be subversive of all government." While they humbly admit the superior wisdom of parliament, they modestly plead the great distance from the colony and ignorance of its local requirements, as tending to destroy the force and vitiate the suitableness of their legislation. " Confirm our liberties," they conclude, " discountenance our enemies, the disturbers of our peace under pretence of our injustice." This appeal, backed by powerful influence, proved an overmatch for the machinations of Vassall and Child. The parliament refused to reverse the decisions of the council, and generously extended to them " the utmost freedom and latitude that could, in any respect, be duly claimed by them." Meanwhile the dread of parliamentary interference had produced a strong reaction in the colony against the liberals, and thus the Massachusetts council, after a long and anxious struggle with their opponents, found themselves established still firmer in power than before. The foundation of " Providence, " and the settlement of Aquiday or Rhode Island by Roger Williams, has been already described. Thither, since the expulsion of Mrs. Hutchinson from Boston, had continued to repa?r a large number of those who were discontented with the " soul tyranny " established in Massachusetts. Antinomians and Anabaptists, fanatics and latitudinarians of every shade of belief, had there found a shelter from persecution, and a field for the free exercise of their conflicting creeds. Universal suffrage and equal right being the established code, the little state soon became notorious for the tumultuous character of its popular assemblies, for the collision of opinions and interests, of whims and vagaries, elements which by agitation neutralized one another, and formed an harmonious unity by the balance of forces. " Amor vincit omnia" was the happy and well-chosen motto of their little state. Over this restless democracy presided Roger Williams, venerated for the uprightness and simplicity of his daily walk. As years stole on him, and he beheld the evil arising from sectarian animosity, his zeal for fantastic innovation was sobered down, and from a restless propagator of novel tenets he became a humble and charitable "seeker" after truth. His antipathy to persecution, however, and his advocacy of an impartial toleration, increased only with his age. The arbitrary encroachments of the Massachusetts the- ocracy, their increasing territorial aggrandizement, and the apprehension lest they might ultimately claim jurisdiction over the other colonies, determined A. D. 1C5C. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 99 him to repair to England and to obtain a charter of incorporation. He was chap. entirely successful in his object. His publications on the Indian manners and language attracted deserved admiration. He attacked the principle of re- ligious despotism in his tract entitled " Bloody Tenet of Persecution for the Cause of Conscience," afterwards replied to by Cotton. Vane, who, though he had befriended the Massachusetts council, was opposed to a system of exclusiveness under which he had himself been stigmatized, strongly sym- pathized with Williams, and through his influence the benevolent founder of Rhode Island returned to America with the desired charter. As he ap- proached the spot where in his flight from persecution he had laid the first foundations of a refuge for the oppressed, the river was covered with a fleet of canoes, the whole population poured forth to meet their benefactor, " ele- vated and transported out of himself" by the success of his efforts, and the grateful acclamations of his fellow-citizens. A commission for governing the islands, granted to one Coddrington, by the council of state in England, which threatened to interfere with the patent, occasioned a second voyage, to obtain the powerful intercession of 'Vane, who obtained the withdrawal of the obnoxious instrument, and the confirmation of the charter of Rhode Island. It was not until after some further troubles, however, that the government of that State was firmly and peacefully established. Dissensions arose among its citizens, while Massachusetts and Plymouth asserted their claims to differ- ent portions of the territory, and even meditated the annulling of their charter. The affairs of the last few years, and especially the recent agitation of Child and Vassall, had threatened the dissolution of the Massachusetts theocracy. Assailed on all sides by sectarian innovation, menaced by parlia- mentary interference, they had successfully weathered the storm ; but there were only two courses now open to them, either the relaxation of the bonds imposed by their rule, or their increased stringency. Before the recent agi- tation they had contemplated the former alternative — the opposite course was now resolved upon. As even among their own body there were not a few im- bued with Antinomian or Anabaptist tendencies, it was determined to leave to them no latitude for schism, but to define the rule of faith, to draw up a formal standard of confession, and to subject the churches, hitherto more than half in- dependent, to the superintendence of a self-constituted majority, whose dictum should be without appeal. This scheme was not carried out without some oppo- sition. Boston at first refused to choose delegates. At length however, after much discussion, and " a clear discovery and refutation of such errors, objec- tions, and scruples, as had been raised about it by some young heads," a confes- sion of faith was agreed upon, conforming in all doctrinal points to the Cal- vinistic articles of the Westminster Assembly of Divines. This standard of orthodoxy resolved upon, it was decided, to insure unity of sentiment and action, that no deputy should be sent to the general court who did not subscribe it. The first shoots of heterodoxy were vigilantly watched for and extirpated, and recusant ministers were compelled to be silent or to resign their seats. Latitudinarianism, even more than heterodoxy, exposed its professors to the o 2 VIII. A.D. 1G5C 100 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, severest penalties, and any who should venture openly to deny that the Bible was the word of God, were punishable not only with fine, flogging, imprison- ment, or banishment, but even with death. The Roman Catholics had de- manded obedience to the traditions of the Church and asserted its authority, as the sole expounder of that Bible which it withheld from the people. Repudi- ating these claims, the different sects of the Reformers made the Bible itself their rule of faith, but each party claimed the right to decide upon its meaning, while it aimed at imposing its own convictions as the rule for others. Thus the right of private judgment was in truth as much derided by the Puritans of New England, as by their Romanist or Anglican persecutors. " New presbyter was but old priest writ large." They came over to establish a distinctive polity, which they believed to be founded on the word of God, and they would have deemed it a base derelic- tion of duty and principle to open the door to sectarians of every shade. This is well seen in the epitaph of the stern old Dudley, the governor : — " Let men of God in courts and churches watch O'er such as do a toleration hatch, Lest that ill egg bring forth a cockatrice To poison all with heresy and vice ; If men be left, and otherwise combine, My epitaph's, I died no libertine." It was precisely when they were congratulating themselves on the vigour and firmness of their administration, and their victory over heresy and schism, that they were exposed to the most formidable irruption which they had yet experienced, called upon to carry out their inexorable principles to their ultimate consequences, and, in defiance of their humaner feelings, to inflict the last punishment of their harsh and mistaken code upon the fanatic enthusiasts who rushed upon and gloried in their fate. This last onslaught was that of the Quakers, a body which had recently sprung up in England, the latest and the most remarkable form which sec- tarian development had yet assumed. The tenets and practices of its adherents overstepped the nice and perilous line of demarcation that separate the sublime from the ridiculous. As its fundamental principle was that of an inward reve- lation of God to man, an indwelling of the Divine Spirit in the human soul, and as by this unerring voice, and not by the creeds and formularies of man, were the Holy Scriptures to be interpreted to every individual believer, the interference of the magistrate with the consciences of men was expressly denounced as antichristian and intolerable. "While Cromwell had declared that "he that prays best, and preaches best, will fight best," a doctrine religiously carried out in Massachusetts, the Quakers denied the lawfulness even of defensive warfare, and refused to bear arms when commanded by the civil magistrate. Their " yea was yea, and their nay was nay," and believing that "whatsoever was more than this cometh of evil," they insisted upon observing the letter of Scripture, which commands the believer to " swear not VIII. A. D. 1650. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 101 at all," and refused to take oaths when required by human authority. Titles chap they abhorred as opposite to the simplicity of the faith, which commands us to " call no man master " — declined even to take off their hats before the ma- gistrate, and thee'd and friended alike a Cromwell or a Charles II. Believ- ing that every man and woman was at liberty to preach as moved by the Spirit alone, they rejected either printed formularies, or established modes of worship, as cramping the free spirit of devotion, and regarded a settled and salaried priesthood as false prophets and as hireling wolves, against whom it was their duty to bear testimony. In the renunciation of the world and all its vanities, they outran even the most rigid Puritans ; they abhorred even the most innocent pleasures — they adopted a peculiar dress, divested of every trace of shapeliness and adornment — compassed their words and manners with ridi- culous formality ; their hair was lank, their visage sunken, and their eyes turned upwards, as if in invocation of spiritual succour. But they were above all dis- tinguished by the uncompromising boldness of their denunciations against the tyranny of rulers in high places, whether temporal or spiritual. Filled, as they believed, with the Divine afflatus, they feared not the face of man ; and if they refused the common titles of respect to established authority, upon those that withstood them they poured forth a complete vocabulary of abuse. Their adversaries were " dogs, lizards, scorpions, tinkers, firebrands, and Ju- dases." Nothing could surpass their zeal for the propagation of their tenets. " The apostles of the New Light, ploughmen and milkmaids," says Bancroft, " becoming itinerant preachers, sounded the alarm through the world, and ap- pealed to the consciences of Puritans and Cavaliers, of the Pope and the Grand Turk, of the negro and the savage. Their apostles made their way to Pome and Jerusalem, to New England and Egypt, and some were even moved to go to- wards China and Japan, and in search of the unknown realms of Prester John." Boston had already obtained in England the reputation of being the head- quarters of intolerance, and thither, of course, some of the more zealous were not long in finding their way. Their evil report had preceded them, and they are described as " a cursed set of heretics lately risen in the world." Their principles, which struck at the very root of the theocracy, and the fierce en- thusiasm with which they propagated them, were far more to be dreaded than the errors of Antinomians or Anabaptists. The first that came over in July, 1656, were two women, Mary Fisher and Ann Austin. Popular superstition invested them with Satanic attributes, and their persons were examined for the marks of witchcraft. They were shortly afterwards imprisoned and sent away, on which Mary Fisher repaired to Constantinople, where the Turks, who venerate the insane as being under the especial protection of God, listened with respect to her unintelligible ravings. Heavy fines were now enacted against any who should introduce Quakers into the colony, or circulate the tracts in which they disseminated their opinions. Those who defended the opinions of the sectaries or gave them harbour were severely fined, and, on persisting, banished. Whipping was the mildest punishment awarded to a Quaker, and this discipline was inflicted 102 HISTORY OF AMERICA. <: " A r p - upon males and females indiscriminately. On the first conviction they were to — — — — lose one ear, on a second the other one, and, although the law proscribed tor- ' ture, on the third were to have their tongues bored through with a hot iron — extreme penalties, which were indeed rather intended to frighten away those who persisted in returning over again, in the face of the severest prohibitions. But their zeal amounted almost to insanity; they insulted and defied the magistrates — disturbed the public worship with contemptuous clamour — nay, instances afterwards occurred in which women, to testify after prophetic fashion against the spiritual nakedness of the land, and regarding the violence thus done to their natural modesty as " a cross " which it behoved them to bear, displayed themselves without a particle of clothing in the public streets. The obstinacy of the Quakers was not to be repressed by any ordinary se- verities. Many of them had repaired to Rhode Island, where the free toleration afforded to all sects indiscriminately, allowed them to propagate their tenets undisturbed. These, however, few appeared inclined to embrace, and above all — they were not persecuted. Their zeal was of that sort that loves to be sharpened by opposition, and rushes upon martyrdom with intense delight. To Boston therefore they were attracted, like the moth to the candle, by a sort of fatal fascination. It was war to the knife between ecclesiastical bigotry and insane fanaticism. The Puritans, to do them justice, sought to decline the conflict, but it was forced upon them. They did not desire to injure the Quakers, but they were determined to maintain their principles. Hitherto all had been in vain, fines, whippings, and imprisonments, and now, by a decree of the council, as a last resource, though not without the strenuous resistance of a portion of the deputies, banishment was enforced on pain of death. But that indomitable sect gloried in the opportunity of suffering martyrdom. Robinson, Stephenson, and Mary Dyer, persisting in braving the penalty denounced against them, were tried and condemned. The governor, Win- throp, earnestly sought to prevent their execution, and Colonel Temple offered to carry them away, and, if they returned, fetch them off a second time. There was a struggle among the council, many regarding them as mere lunatics, against whom it would be as foolish as cruel to proceed to extremities ; but the majority prevailed, and Stephenson and Robinson were brought to the scaffold. " I die for Christ; 5 ' said Robinson. " We suffer not as evil-doers, but for conscience' sake," said Stephenson. Mary Dyer, with the rope round her r.eck, after witnessing the execution of her two companions, exclaimed, " Let me suffer as my brethren, unless you will annul your wicked law." At the intercession of her son, she was almost forced from the scaffold, on con- dition of leaving the colony in eight and forty hours, but the spirit of the wretched woman was excited almost to insanity by inward enthusiasm and the horrible scenes she had witnessed, and after the trial she addressed from her prison an energetic remonstrance against the cruelty of the council. " Woe is me for you ! ye are disobedient and deceived," she urged to the magistrates who had condemned her. ""You will not repent that you were kept from shedding blood, though it was by a woman." With a courage that HISTORY OF AMERICA. 103 would bs sublime were it not tinctured with insanity, forced by an irresistible c $A p - impulse, she returned to defy the tyrants of " the bloody town," and to seal — — — her testimony against them with her life. She was taken and hanged upon Boston Common. These fearful scenes excited a growing spirit of discontent. Disgust at the folly and frenzy of these enthusiasts was forgotten in the commiseration excited by their sufferings. The magistrates, before the last execution, had been com- pelled to put forth a formal apology for their proceedings. " Although," they urge, " the justice of our proceedings against William Robinson, Marmaduke Stephenson, and Mary Dyer, supported by the authority of this court, the laws of the country, and the law of God, may rather persuade us to expect encourage- ment and commendation from all prudent and pious men than convince us of any necessity to apologize for the same : yet, forasmuch as men of weaker parts, out of pity and commiseration, (a commendable and Christian virtue, yet easily abused, and susceptible of sinister and dangerous impressions,) for want of full information, may be less satisfied, and men of perverser principles may take occasion hereby to calumniate us and render us bloody persecutors, — to satisfy the one and stop the mouths of the other, we thought it requisite to declare, That, about three years since, divers persons, professing themselves Quakers, (of whose pernicious opinions and practices we had received intelli- gence from good hands, both from Barbadoes and England,) arrived at Bos- ton, whose persons were only secured to be sent away by the first opportunity, without censure or punishment. Although their professed tenets, turbulent and contemptuous behaviour to authority, would have justified a severer animadversion, yet the prudence of this court was exercised only to make provision to secure the peace and order here established against their attempts, whose design (we were well assured of by our own experience, as well as by the example of their predecessors in Munster) was to undermine and ruin the same. And accordingly, a law was made and published, prohibiting all masters of ships to bring any Quakers into this jurisdiction, and themselves from coming in, on penalty of the house of correction until they should be sent away. Notwithstanding which, by a back door, they found entrance, and the penalty inflicted upon themselves, proving insufficient to restrain their impudent and insolent intrusions, was increased by the loss of the ears of those that offended the second time ; which also being too weak a defence against their impetuous fanatic fury, necessitated us to endeavour our se- curity; and upon serious consideration, after the former experiment, by their incessant assaults, a law was made, that such persons should be banished on pain of death, according to the example of England in their provision against Jesuits, which sentence being regularly pronounced at the last court of assist- ants against the parties above-named, and they either returning or continuing presumptuously in this jurisdiction after the time limited, were apprehended, and owning themselves to be the persons banished, were sentenced by the court to death, according to the law aforesaid, which hath been executed upon two of them. Mary Dyer, upon the petition of her son, and the mercy and 104 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, clemency of this court, had liberty to depart Avithin two days, which she hath — accepted of. The consideration of our gradual proceedings will vindicate us ' from the clamorous accusations of severity; our own just and necessary de- fence calling upon us (other means failing) to offer the point which these persons have violently and wilfully rushed upon, and thereby become felones de se, which might have been prevented, and the sovereign law, salus populi, been preserved. Our former proceedings, as Avell as the sparing of Mary Dyer upon an inconsiderable intercession, will manifestly evince we desire their lives, absent, rather than their deaths, present." But the magistrates having now dipped their hands in blood, and boldly maintained the justice of so doing, consistency required that they should persist in the same fatal course. William Leddra was put to trial and sentenced, but was offered pardon on condition of departing beyond the bounds of the colony. He re- fused, and was executed; but he was the last victim sacrificed. For the desperate expedient, which had brought so much odium upon the magistrates, was all in vain, and they were terrified, moreover, by the threat of an appeal to England. During the trial of Leddra, Wenlock Christison, who had also been banished, returned, entered the court, and being put on his defence, hurled defiance into the teeth of his judges. " By what law," he demanded, " will ye put me to death?" "We have alaw," it was answered, " and by it you are to die." " So said the Jews to Christ. But who empowered you to make that law?" "We have a patent, and we make our own laws." "Can you make laws repugnant to those of England?" "No." "Then you are gone be- yond your bounds. Your heart is as rotten towards the king as towards God. I demand to be tried by the laws of England, and there is no law there to hang Quakers." " The English banish Jesuits on pain of death ; and with equal justice we may banish Quakers." The jury returned a ver- dict of guilty. Wenlock replied, " I deny all guilt ; my conscience is clear before God." The magistrates were divided in pronouncing sentence ; the vote was put a second time, and there appeared a majority for the doom of death. " What do you gain," cried Christison, " by taking Quakers' lives ? For the last man that ye put to death, here are five come in his room. If ye have power to take my life, God can raise up ten of his servants in my stead." The people, too, gave unequivocal signs of sympathy with the sufferers. The scandal would go forth to all Christendom. The magistrates felt that they had gone too far, and we may reasonably believe that they were glad to re- trace their steps. Accordingly they discharged such Quakers as were in con- finement, and contented themselves with ordering all who returned to be whipped beyond the bounds of their jurisdiction, over and over again, until they desisted from their obstinate infatuation. Whilst a religious corporation were thus earnestly striving to maintain an exclusive orthodoxy, a design for the conversion of the Indians was originated by the benevolence of a single individual. John Elliot, the pastor of the church at Roxbury near Boston, being animated with zeal for the temporal and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 105 spiritual improvement of the savages, undertook the task of learning their chap. language, into which he was at length enabled to translate the Bible. The ~ objects of his labours were looked upon but coldly by the Puritans. With their constant reference of every thing to the canons and circumstances of the Old Testament, they beheld in the Indians the counterpart of the idolatrous heathen, whose inheritance was to be given into the hands of the children of Israel, while, according to their harsh theological opinions, these children of un- regenerated nature were reprobate and accursed of God. They were also de- spised for their helplessness and ignorance, secretly hated, and feared, perhaps, as the original tenants of the soil, to which they might yet arise and assert their claim. Compassion however was, by many, largely mingled with this bitter and contemptuous estimate, since God might have chosen some of these despised ones, in the exercise of his inscrutable sovereignty, as coheirs of salvation with their superior brethren. This feeling was predominant in the mind of the bene- volent Elliot. He began his labours in 1645, among the tribes in the neigh- bourhood of Massachusetts Bay. His simplicity and kindness of heart won greatly upon the affections of the Indians, and their regard for the pastor was extended to the system which he propounded, even, perhaps, when it was but partially apprehended by them. When he assembled his Indian congre- gation, after getting one of the magistrates to offer up in English a prayer for Divine help, he would preach in a simple style to the Indians, encourage them to propose questions on what they had heard, and catechise the children, re- warding their diligence with presents of apple and cake. His tact was dis- played in simplifying to their obtuse apprehensions the knotty doctrines of the Westminster Assembly, until the children were at length able to answer, if they could not understand, all the questions it contained, in their own language. Although the Puritans, it is true, obtained far less influence over the minds of the Indians than the Roman Catholics, who sought for external conformity rather than inward conviction, who addressed the senses rather than the in- tellect ; under the influence of the " Apostle of the Indians," the number of converts multiplied so rapidly as to excite attention, and Winslow, then in London, as political agent, formed a society in that country for the propa- gation of the Gospel amongst the Indians, which received a charter from the government, and appears to have been warmly supported by the pious in Eng- land. A considerable sum was remitted, churches were founded, and several native teachers received salaries, while other Puritan ministers, following the example of Elliot, also acquired the^ language of the Indians, and extended their labours on every side. Anxious to withdraw his converts from their un- settled mode of life, Elliot endeavoured to engage them in the pursuits of re- gular industry, and drew up for them a popular form of government. Good books were translated for their benefit, and a sort of Indian college estab- lished. No great or lasting impression was effected by these benevolent labours. The Indian Sachems and their priests looked with an evil eye upon the proceedings, and the habits of savage life were not to be easily eradicated. Between the pharisaic Puritan and the despised Indian there was also a great 106 HISTORY OF AMERICA. crap, gulf, which the former would not, and the latter could not pass. But if the _ project was in the end all but abortive, this should not detract from the glory to l'ceo. of the benevolent Elliot, who is worthy to take his place by the side of Las Casas and of Schwartz, and especially of Oberlin and of NefF, who sought to raise the objects of their laborious sympathy from the depths of temporal, as well as of spiritual destitution. " It is a remarkable feature," says Grahame, " in Elliot's long and arduous career, that the energy by which he was actuated never sustained the slightest abatement, but, on the contrary, evinced a steady and vigorous increase. As his bodily strength decayed, the energy of his being seemed to retreat into his soul, and at length, all his faculties (he said) seemed absorbed in holy love. Being asked, shortly before his de- parture, how he did, he replied, c I have lost every thing ; my understanding leaves me, my memory fails me, my utterance fails me — but I thank God, my charity holds out still, I find that rather grows than fails.' " This admirable man died in 1690, full of years and honours. During the establishment of the commonwealth in England, the colony, untroubled by its interference, enjoyed a steady prosperity. The successes of Cromwell were regarded with enthusiasm, the prayers of the Puritans were offered up for him, and he received the warmest expressions of their regard. In return he took a deep interest in the well-being of their little state, to which, it is popularly believed, though not on adequate foundation, he had been at one time about to retire from persecution in England. With the vigour that characterized his foreign policy, the Protector had wrested Acadie from the French, and Jamaica from the Spaniards, and Winslow went out from Lon- don as one of the commissioners for the conquered countries, but died soon after his arrival. Cromwell had already offered to the people of New Eng- land the lands confiscated in his recent war in Ireland ; he now desired that a large body of them should settle in Jamaica, and plant the institutions and religion of England as a strong-hold in the midst of Catholics and Spaniards. Few availed themselves of his proposal, the majority being too well satisfied with the blessings of their actual condition, to desire a removal to a more daz- zling but uncertain scene of enterprise. Whatsoever faults may be found with the exclusiveness and intolerance of the fathers of Massachusetts, it cannot be denied that under their administra- tion, firm even to sternness as it was, the colony had made far more rapid progress than any other in America. Industry was encouraged, nay, en- forced ; if any one would not work, neither could he eat ; mendicancy was a thing unknown, and thrift, self-denial, and enterprise soon distinguished the New Englander as much as his seriousness of deportment. The nature and climate of the country favoured the development of a hardy, self-re- lying character. Except in a few favoured spots, the soil was not rich, and required hard labour to subdue and render it productive. The fisheries off the coasts bred up a race of intrepid seamen, who were not long in extending the sphere of their enterprise to distant shores, the sea-ports grew rapidly, ship-building was soon extensively practised, and the Massachusetts mer- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 107 chantmen visited Madeira and Spain. At first the inhabitants had been chap. obliged to import corn for their sustenance, they now sent cargoes even to f— England. Almost all the trades had taken firm root in the land; saw-mills toieso. were established on the beautiful New England brooks, and a traffic in lumber and shoes, still characteristic staples, had been established. In 1639, the ma- nufacture of cloth was introduced, by a colony from Yorkshire, led by their pastor, Ezekiel Rogers ; and in 1643, iron-works were founded by a body of workmen brought over from England by the younger Winthrop. If we look to the progress of the towns, we find that the rude log-houses of the first settlers had been long replaced by a superior class of habitations. The beautiful villages with their frame-houses and verandahs, and groups of weeping elms, were even then admired. Boston, as the head-quarters of government and commerce, had in the course of twenty years surprisingly increased. Among a numerous body of other foreign vessels, the French, Por- tuguese, and Dutch were to be seen in its harbour. The base of the hilly peninsula on which it is built was of course the principal seat of traffic ; here thickly crowded buildings and wharves were " fairly set out with brick, tile, stone, and slate," and the continual enlargement of the " comely street, presaged some sumptuous city." " At the head of King Street," says a traveller of the period, " now State Street, was the old Town-house, built in 1660. It stood upon pillars, serving as an arcade for the merchants. The monthly courts were held in the chambers above, and here the governor resided. The general style of the architecture, if we may judge from some houses near Faneuil Hall, bearing the date 1630, was the exact counterpart of that which formerly distinguished an English country town, with picturesque pointed gables, overhanging stories, huge chimneys, and projecting oriel windows. Some of the houses stood embowered in gardens and orchards." " South of the Town-house was," says John Josselyn, Gent., who visited the colonies in 1663, " a small but pleasant common." This was probably the scene of the execution of the Quakers, and here " the gallants, a little before sun-set, walk with their marmalet madams, as we do in Moorfields, till the nine o'clock bell rings them home to their respective habitations, when presently the constables walk the rounds to see good order kept, and to take up loose people." The regimen of the good fathers of the Commonwealth was indeed more than ordinarily severe. They had fled as much from the licence as from the persecu- tion of the Episcopalians, as much from " the Book of Sports " as from the prison or the pillory. On their emigration to New England, they had been above all things desirous to avoid the influx of " lewd fellows of the baser sort," before they could establish a model commonwealth, from which every in- dulgence that savoured of " the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life" should be sedulously excluded. What Macaulay says of the Puritans in general, will apply, with little exception, to the founders of Mas- sachusetts. " Morals and manners were subjected to a code resembling that of the synagogue, when the synagogue was in its worst state. The dress, the deportment, the language, the studies, the amusements of the rigid sect wei e p 2 108 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, regulated on principles resembling those of the Pharisees, who, proud of their — '■— washed hands and broad phylacteries, taunted the Redeemer as a sabbath- to i6so. breaker and a wine-bibber. It was a sin to hang garlands on a Maypole, to fly a hawk, to hunt a stag, to play at chess, to drink a friend's health, to ivear love-locks, (against which customs enactments were levied,) to put starch upon a ruff, to touch the virginals, to read the e Fairy Queen.' The Puritan was at once known from other men by his gait, his garb, his lank hair, the sour solemnity of his face, the upturned white of his eyes, the nasal twang with which he spoke, and above all, by his peculiar dialect. He employed on every occasion the imagery and style of Scripture. Hebraisms violently in- troduced into the English language, and metaphors borrowed from the bold- est lyric poetry of a remote age and country, and applied to the common con- cerns of life, were the most striking peculiarities of this cant, which moved, not without cause, the derision both of prelatists and libertines." Such were the figures, and such was the phraseology which might have been seen and heard in Boston two centuries ago, in the meeting-house and the court of magistrates, in the public assembly and the private family, in the intercourse of business, or the labours of the field, on the deck of the mer- chantman, and in the ranks of the militia. But he must have been a bold man who should have ventured to smile at it. Beyond the pale of church member- ship there was indeed a " mixed multitude," who claimed and enjoyed a certain latitude. The attempt of the magistrates to introduce sumptuary regulations had been in vain, female vanity would break through the trammels imposed upon it ; " superfluous ribbons," and " strange new fashions," vexed the right- eous souls of the fathers of the theocracy, even " divers of the elders' wives," it seems, being " partners in this disorder." In spite, too, of all restric- tions, there were those, to quote the language of a traveller of the period, u who treated the fair sex with so much courtship and address, as if loving had been all their trade." But the Puritan legislators frowned upon every thing that tended to laxity of manners, they sternly watched over the morals of the community ; wisely considering prevention as better than cure, they coun- tenanced early unions ; and although courtship carried on without the per- mission of the girl's parents, or of " the next magistrate," was punishable with imprisonment, the magistrates might redress " wilful and unreasonable denial of timely marriage " on the part of parents. Adultery was a capital offence, and incontinence was punished with a severe discipline. Underhill, who, uniting, as he did, the gallantry of the soldier with his proverbial love of licence, and of " bravery of apparel," having been accused of a backsliding of this nature, was summoned into the presence of the magistrates; and then, " after sermon, in presence of the congregation, standing on a form, and in his worst clothes, without his band and in a dirty night cap, confessed the sin with which he had been charged ;" and " while his blubberings interrupted him," says Winthrop, dolefully lamented the loss of his " assurance," which had been graciously vouchsafed while enjoying a pipe of tobacco. Such was the godly discipline under which succumbed even the martial spirits which HISTORY OF AMERICA. 109 had borne the brant of many a desperate struggle against the fierce and wily c ** I £ r p - aborigines. Failings like these, however, were by no means frequent among the pious " men of war " of Massachusetts. They believed " that he who ruleth to l'eeo. his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city," and to the most fervid fanaticism they united the sternest self-control. The whole population were trained as militia, and formed twenty-six companies of foot and a regiment of horse, but the officers were all required to be " specially endued with faith." They were well armed and perfectly disciplined, and when " the Lord called them to war," a call they were always ready enough to obey, displayed the most enthusiastic courage. The forts, two in the town and suburbs, and one commanding the entrance of the harbour, were well supplied with artillery and carefully garrisoned. " The God of armies," exclaims the pious Johnson, " was over us for a refuge. Selah." The standard of comfort appears to have been unusually high. Those who had come over with nothing but their axe in their hand, were soon in posses- sion of comfortable dwellings and gardens, and many had saved considerable sums. " Good white and wheaten bread," says Johnson, " is no dainty, but every ordinary man hath his choice, if gay clothing and liquorish taste after sack, sugar, and plums lick not away his bread too fast. Flesh is now no rare food, beef, pork, and mutton being frequent in many houses; so that this poor wilderness hath not only equalized England in food, but goes beyond in some places :" an assertion fully borne out by Macaulay, who tells us that in England, at this period, fresh meat was not commonly in use even in the houses of the country squires, and unknown among the peasantry. In one particular, and one only, the Puritans seem to have been less rigid than their descendants. They had brought»over from Old England the taste for beer, the want of which was often felt as a privation. But they were now getting accustomed to more generous liquors, the wines of Spain and Madeira were cheap and abundant, and were found wholesome in counter- acting the cold fogs and cutting winds of the climate. In the use of these "creature comforts" they were satisfied with observing " The rule of not too much, by temperance taught." The doctrine of " teetotalism " was unknown among them. The fathers of the New England commonwealth were sincerely anxious for the promotion of sound learning. Many of them had enjoyed a university education in England, and were men of considerable acquirements. Their literary taste was of course in accordance with their religious views. "We find Josselyn carrying with him from England to "Mr. Cotton, the teacher of Boston Church," the same who defended the cause of Massachusetts intoler- ance against the attacks of Roger Williams, " the translation of several Psalms in English metre for his approbation, as a present from Mr. Francis Quarles, the poet." In Boston, now justly considered the Athens of America, and the seat of the most enlarged and liberal mental culture, the abode of poets, historians, philosophers, and painters, controversial divinity was at that time 110 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the only literature cultivated. The Quakers had declared that "philosophy and logic are of the devil/' while other sectarians gloried in their emancipation to :66o. from the restraints of human learning. To check this presumptuous ignorance, from the ebullitions of which they had suffered so much, the council deter- mined on every where establishing free-schools and grammar-schools, from which some youths were to be sent to the university, where their minds would of course receive like wax the impress of that system of instruction most wisely provided for their reception. A college had been established for this species of training at Newtown, a suburb of Boston, which John Harvard, a worthy minister, who died shortly after his arrival, endowed with his library, and half his estate. It was now erected into a college bearing the name of its benefactor, and the village where it stood received the name of Cambridge, after that English university where many of the Massachusetts ministers had received their education. Other individuals also contributed large donations, and some assistance was received from the other colonies, to which were added the proceeds of the ferry between Boston and Charles- town. To Glover, another Nonconformist minister, who died on his passage from England, is due the credit of causing the introduction of the first" printing press in the colony, if not in all America. He contributed largely him- self, and obtained the assistance of others in England and Holland. This press was first set up and worked at Cambridge by Stephen Day. The "Freemen's Oath," against which Roger Williams protested, was its first production, the next an " Almanack for New England, by Mr. William Pierce, mariner," and the next a metrical version of the Psalms for the use of the New England congregations. CHAPTER IX. TI12 ABORIGINAL INDIANS. — THEIR rilYSICAL AND MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS, CUSTOMS, MANNERS, ANTIQUITIES, AND LANGUAGES. chap. Having now traced the gradual occupation of the whole coast of North IX. A. D. 1650. America by the colonies of the white man, before whom the aborigines, hitherto subsisting almost undisturbed, were henceforth destined to melt so rapidly away ; it may be well to pause a while in the course of our narrative, and briefly survey their original condition, before we pursue any further the melancholy chronicle of their cruel sufferings, their fierce revenges, their bootless, although often heroic, struggles against an inevitable fate. The story JX. A,r>. u»eo. HISTORY OF AMERICA. Ill of the Indians is the poetry of North America, and the lingering traces of chap. their footsteps affect the traveller with a peculiar interest. There is some- thing mournful in this fading away of a feeble race before one more powerful and gifted. Of the tribes that roamed at will over the forest-covered con- tinent, some are wholly extinct ; others are cast forth beyond the boundaries or subsist uneasily upon the outskirts of civilization, receding farther and far- ther into the wilderness from before the face of the white man, with the feeling of despondency so beautifully embodied by the poet — " They waste us — ay, like April snow In the warm noon, we shrink away ; And fast they follow, as we go Towards the setting day ; — Till they shall fill the land, and we Are driven into the western sea." In surveying the physical and mental organization of the tribes extending over such an immense expanse of country, its remarkable uniformity first at- tracts our notice. The skin of the North American Indians is of a reddish brown, slightly varying in shade, according to the locality ; the hair black, lank, and straight, with little or no beard ; the cheek-bones high, the jaw-bone prominent, and the forehead narrow and sloping. Their figure, untramineled in every movement, is lithe, agile, and often graceful, but they are inferior in muscular strength to the European. Their intellectual faculties are also more limited, and their moral sensibilities less lively. They are characterized by an inflexibility of organization, which appears to be almost incapable of re- ceiving foreign ideas, or amalgamating with more civilized nations — a people, in short, that may be broken, but cannot be bent ; and this peculiar organiza- tion, together with the state of nature in which they were placed, determined the character of their domestic and social condition. The dwellings of the Indians were of the simplest and rudest character. On some pleasant spot by the banks of a river, or near a sweet spring, they raised their groups of wigwams, constructed of the bark of trees, and easily taken down and removed to another spot. The abodes of the chiefs were sometimes more spacious, and elaborately constructed, but of the same mate- rials. Their villages were sometimes surrounded by defensive palisades. Skins, taken in the chase, served them for repose. Though principally de- pendent upon the hunting and fishing, its uncertain supply had led them to cultivate around their dwellings some patches of Indian corn, but their exer- tions were desultory, and they were often exposed to the pinch of famine. Every family did every thing necessary within itself; and interchange of commodities was almost unknown among them. The great characteristic of the savage is his unwillingness to submit to any curtailment of his freedom. Necessity and instinct dictated the institution of marriage, but its tie was but loosely held, and often capriciously broken. The condition of women was degraded and miserable , they were regarded as an inferior race. The pride of the savage, satisfied with his skill in the cha.se, A D. 1660. 112 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, considered domestic drudgery as unworthy of him, and on the weaker sex -—- the severe and continued toil of attending to all the necessities of the house- hold was exclusively devolved. The communities into which they were divided were very imperfectly or- ganized. Each savage conceded as little as possible of his personal liberty. There was no system of government, though common consent had con- secrated various usages as authoritative. The chiefs acquired and maintained their ascendency by superior valour, energy, and wisdom. They were, how- ever, sometimes hereditary, and the minor tribes were united into wider con- federacies under some general head. The life of the savage is necessarily filled up by long periods of listless in- dolence and mental vacuity, alternating with moments of wild and fierce ex- citement. War was the great passion, the only high and noble pursuit, the only avenue to distinction, in which the Indian found scope for the exercise of his faculties — for the most undaunted bravery, the keenest subtlety, and the most indefatigable perseverance. In small parties the warriors would follow upon the trail of an enemy for weeks through the tangled intricacies of the forest, hover about his village, pounce upon and scalp their victims, and effect their escape with these trophies of their skill and prowess to their own wigwams, where they were received with the distinction due to a successful "brave;" their feats were the theme of rude but impressive oratory, and, according to the number of similar achievements, was the meed of honour, and the consideration in which they were held. To inflict and to bear alike the severest torture, and to repress every ex- pression of emotion as unworthy of his dignity, was the point of honour in the Indian's code. " As monumental bronze unchanged his look, A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook ; Train'd from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — A stoic of the woods — a man without a tear." The captive warrior, after being paraded in triumph, tied to the stake, and tortured for hours with all the refinements of cruelty, would defy the utmost efforts of his enemies to shake his invincible fortitude, taunt them with the success of his former exploits, and shout forth his triumphant death-song in the extremity of his agonies. Revenge, finely called by the philosopher, " a sort of wild justice," was religion to the savage, and, until full atonement had been made for the blood of his kindred, he deemed that a solemn duty re- mained yet unfulfilled. The intervals of his more exciting pursuits the Indian filled up in the de- coration of his person with all the refinements of paint and feathers, with the manufacture of his arms —the club, and the bow and arrows, and of canoes of bark, so light, that they could easily be carried on the shoulder from stream to stream. His amusements were the war-dance and song, and athletic games, the narration of his exploits, and the listening to the oratory of the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 113 chiefs. But, during long periods of his existence, he remained in a state chap. of torpor, gazing listlessly upon the dim arcades of the forests, and the " — clouds that sailed over the tree-tops far above his head ; and this vacancy- imprinted an habitual gravity and even melancholy upon his aspect and de- meanour. The undeveloped faculties of the savage, ignorant of the relations of things, cannot form the idea of a regular system of causation by one supreme and benevolent power ; but what reason is unable to demonstrate, is vaguely di- vined by instinct. The dread of evils to which his condition exposes him, the awe produced by the more striking phenomena of the elements, first rouse his attention towards the invisible powers of nature. Fear is his earliest re- ligion, and its rites, often cruel and bloody, are intended to propitiate the be- ings who can control his fate. But as he continues to ponder upon the phe- nomena that surround him, and the mysterious movements of his own mind, he forms some dim conception of a power which is seen not only in the whirl- wind and the earthquake, but stirs in the rustling leaf and the flowing stream, in the living creatures which people the shades of the forest, and in the passions and emotions of his own breast. This is their Great Spirit, or Manitou ; and believing that every thing and every place was thus pervaded, and rendered sacred, the Indians treated the bones of the animals slain by them with a certain reverence, and made offerings to the presiding genius of particular places. They believed that every man had his guardian spirit. They sought for amulets and charms, as a security against the displeasure of the unseen being. They put faith in the mysterious teachings of dreams, and in the supernatural powers of the Medicine Man — half enthusiast and half impostor, the occasional sue- - cess of whose incantations and contrivances, with some rude knowledge of healing, enabled him to obtain a powerful ascendency over their credulous and superstitious minds. The belief in immortality was distinct and consoling to the Indian. His paradise was coloured by his favourite pursuits on earth. He believed that the spirit, of the departed warrior was to roam through a delightful country abounding in plenty of game, and to amuse himself with the exercise of the chase ; and as they were to begin their career anew, their weapons and gar- ments were buried with them, with food to sustain them on the long journey into the distant land. The mother would envelope her dead infant in its gayest clothing, and lay its playthings by its side, that it might resume its amusements in that far region, its flight to which she followed with her tears ; and sometimes, on the decease of a distinguished Sachem, some of his de- pendants would embrace a voluntary death, in order to bear him company, and to render him accustomed homage in the world of spirits. The antiquities of the Indian tribes have acquired, within the last half cen- tury, an immense and increasing interest. The earlier historians of the con- tinent were ignorant or incredulous as to the existence of any such mementos of the past, although the chroniclers who followed in the wake of Cortez and other corcverors, had described them in the most glowing terms. At length, A. D. 1660 111 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, by the researches of Humboldt and other travellers in Mexico and Peru, especially of Stephens and Catherwood in Central America, it has been found, that those portions of the continent abound in the most magni- ficent remains. Immense pyramidal mounds crowned with gorgeous pa- laces, or sacrificial altars adorned with elaborate sculptures, tablets covered with hieroglyphic inscriptions, as yet undecipherable, generally rude, but sometimes elegant in idea and execution; sculptures, and paintings, and ornaments, — are met with in increasing numbers among the depths of the tropical forests, the gorgeous vegetation of which invests them, as it were, with a funereal shroud, and embraces them in the death-grasp of final ob- literation. It is fortunate, that some records of these precious memorials are preserved to us by recent explorers. They attest the former existence of a race which had attained a fixed state of civilization, a considerable knowledge of the arts and sciences, with a religious system, of which terror appears to have been the great principle, human sacrifices forming its con- spicuous feature ; a state of things indeed in all respects identical with the condition of Mexico at the period of its invasion by Cortez, when some of the temples were doubtless destroyed, while others of more ancient date pro- bably were at that period already fallen into ruin. In North America, during the period of its first settlement, which was confined almost exclusively to the seaboard, no discoveries whatever were made ; but as the stream of emigra- tion, crossing the ridges of the Alleghanies, poured down upon the Missis- sippi and the Ohio, and the dense forests and boundless prairies of the west were gradually opened and explored, another and very interesting class of an- tiquities began to be disinterred from the oblivion of centuries. It was but slowly, indeed, as the forest fell beneath the axe of the back-woodman, that they came to light ; they were for a long time but partially uncovered, or so imperfectly explored, that, even until a very recent period, they were re- garded by many as being only peculiarities of geological formation, which credulous imagination had converted into fortresses, and temples, and sepul- chres. The recent researches of Squier and Davis, accompanied as they are by elaborate surveys and drawings, have left no further room for scepticism, and have established, beyond dispute, the interesting fact, that the interior of the North American continent, as well as the southern, was once in- habited by an immense and settled population, who have left behind them almost innumerable memorials of their occupation. These remains extend almost continuously over the whole interior, from the great lakes on the north to the Gulf of Mexico on the south, and from the sources of the Alleghany in western New York, far above a thousand miles up the Missouri, and into Michigan, Wisconsin, and Iowa. They are found in far greater numbers in the western than in the eastern portion of this immense district. They may be traced too along the seaboard from Texas to Florida, but are not met with any further along the north-eastern coast. They are generally planted in the rich valleys of the western rivers, or elevated above ihem on commanding natural terraces. In the neighbourhood of the upper HISTORY OF AMERICA. 115 Lakes they assume the singular form of gigantic rilievos of earthen walls, chap. often covering several acres, tracing out upon the soil outlines of the figures of men, birds, beasts, and reptiles. Southward of these appear, on the banks of the Ohio and its tributaries, mounds and truncated terraces of immense extent, sustaining earthen enclosures and embankments extending for entire miles. Of these extraordinary earth-works many were evidently fortifications, exhibiting no small constructive skill, defended by numerous bastions, having covered ways, hornworks, concentric walls, and lofty mounds intended as observatories, and numerous gateways giving access to the im- mense line of fortified enclosure, with graded roadways to ascend from terrace to terrace. Of these defences there appears to have been a chain, extend- ing from the head of the Alleghany diagonally across central Ohio to the river Wabash. Not all, however, of these earth-works were intended as fortresses ; many are evidently designed for religious purposes. One of the most extraordinary of these is called the Great Serpent, on a projecting tongue of high land in Adams County, Ohio. The head of the reptile points toward the extremity, his form is traced out with all its convolutions, and its jaws are open as it were to swallow a large egg-shaped enclosure occupying the extreme point of the promontory. Its entire length, if stretched out, would be a thousand feet. The serpent and globe was a symbol in Egypt, Greece, Assyria, and Mexico ; and those familiar with English antiquities will no doubt remember a similar and still more gigantic instance of a serpent, sacred enclosure, and mound on the downs of Avebury in Wiltshire. Of the earth-works some are square, some perfectly circular, others of intricate and curious outline, while many appear to have something symbolical in their arrangements. It is necessary also to correct a popular mistake with regard to their materials, which, it has been affirmed, consist exclusively of earth, whereas both stone and unbaked brick have occasionally been made use of. The mounds scattered over the western valleys and prairies are almost innumerable, and of infinitely various dimensions, one of the largest covering six acres of ground. These also ap- pear to have been appropriated to different purposes, some to sustain sacri- ficial altars or temples, others intended for sepulchres, containing skele- tons, with pottery and charcoal for consuming the bodies. A remarkable instance of the latter class is the great mound at Grave Creek, which was penetrated by a perpendicular shaft opening into two sepulchral chambers, containing several skeletons with pottery and other articles. Within these enclosures and mounds have been discovered numerous stone sculptures of the heads of men, or of human figures in crouching attitudes ; of the beaver, the wild cat, and the toad; of the swallow and other birds; of the heron striking a fish, the last very beautifully executed; and of the sea cow, an animal peculiar to the tropical regions. Ornamented tablets have also been dug up, and in some places sculptures of men, eagles, and elks can be traced on the face of the rocks, with rude attempts to represent hunting scenes. There have also been found instruments of silver and copper, axes, drills, Q 2 116 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, and spear heads, stone discs, and instruments for games, with beads, shells, ornaments, and pipes, as well as decorated pottery. Respecting the whole of these monuments it may be remarked, that they are evidently far ruder than those in Mexico and Central America, to which as they approach in locality they appear to approximate in their character and arrangements ; and it is thus an interesting question whether we are to regard them as the original and more ancient works of a race who afterwards reached a higher degree of civilization farther to the south, or whether, on the con- trary, they present to us traces of a migration from the south towards the north. " It is not impossible," observes Squiers, " that the agriculture and civiliza- tion of Mexico, Central America, and Peru, may have originated on the banks of the Mississippi." Whatever may be the result of further researches, one thing is abundantly evident, that the great valley of that river and of its tri butaries was once occupied by a population who had advanced from the migratory state of hunting to the fixed condition of cultivators of the soil, that the population who raised these great defensive and sacred structures must have been dense and widely spread, in order to execute works for which prolonged and combined effort were so obviously necessary, and that their customs, laws, and religion must have assumed a fixed and definite shape. The languages of the North American Indians, like their physical character- istics, are generally uniform, and may be reduced to a few general heads. The Algonquin was the most widely diffused throughout the northern portion of the States, and was that spoken by the Pokanokets, Narragansetts, and Pequods, by the tribes of Lenni Lenape on the Delaware, and those in Vir- ginia and on the Ohio. The Wyandot was the language of the Hurons, who dwelt in the vicinity of the Great Lakes, and of the Iroquois, who occupied the southern borders of the St. Lawrence, and the interior of the State of New York, where they have left behind them the names of their several confeder- acies, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas — powerful tribes, who having subjugated and extirpated many others, were destined to act a more conspicuous part in the intercolonial struggles than any other body of Indians, and to figure as the chief allies of the English. Advancing to the southward, we find that the Tuscaroras in North Carolina, the Cherokees, occupying the southern district of the romantic Alleghanies, spoke a separate language, as did also the Natchez, and the Uchees on the Lower Mississippi ; while the dialects of the rest of the tribes on this part of the great river and its borders, the Choctaws, the Chickasaws, the Creeks, the Appalachees, and the Yamassees, are grouped under the general title of the Mobilian. Other tribes formed a link between the country east of the Mississippi, and the great West, where the prevailing language is that of the powerful Sioux or Dahcotas. We shall not attempt to discuss at any length the mysterious question of the first peopling of America — whether this immense chain of antiquities, ex- tending, with few interruptions, from the northern to the southern extremity A. D. 1660. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 117 of the vast continent, were the works of a race who came from afar, or who grew chap. up upon the soil itself. Endless have been the theories on this question, the final solution of which must await the progress of ethnological science. Some have imagined that the existence of pyramids denoted an oriental origin, and that they could trace upon the monuments of Copan and Palenque indubita- ble marks of a Tyrian migration ; while others, finding certain remarkable analogies between the customs of the Red Race and those of the Jews, have sup- posed that the former people must be derived from the latter. It is indeed well observed by Bradford, that "the character of American civilization is not wholly indigenous ; that its mutual diversities are no more than might naturally arise when nations of the same stock are separated, while its uniformities are great and striking, and exhibit, in common, an astonishing resemblance to many of the features of the most ancient types of civilization in the eastern hemisphere. The monuments of these nations were temples and palaces; their temples were pyramids ; their traditions were interwoven with cosmogonical fables which still retained relics of primitive history ; and their religion was sub- lime and just in many of its original doctrines, though debased in their super- stitious abuse and corruption. In all this there is nothing modern, nothing recent ; these features are not strictly Hindoo, Egyptian, or Chinese, though they approximate the aboriginal civilization to that of each of these nations. The origin of this resemblance is to be traced back to the earliest ages, when these great nations first separated, and carried into Egypt, Hindoostan, China, and America, the same religion, arts, customs, and institutions, to be variously modified under the influence of diverse causes. The great diversity of Ame- rican languages, the few analogies they present to those of the old world ; the absence of the use of iron ; certain peculiarities in their astronomical systems ; and some of their own traditions, which have pre'served the memory of the great events of ancient sacred history, and attribute the colonization of the continent to one of those tribes who .were present at the dispersion of man- kind ; all tend to support this position. The Red Race, then, appears to be a primitive branch of the human family ; to have existed in many portions of the globe, distinguished for early civilization; and to have penetrated at a very ancient period into America. The American family does not appear to be derived from any nation now existing ; but it is assimilated by numerous analogies to the Etrurians, Egyptians, Mongols, Chinese, and Hindoos ; it is most closely related to the Malays and Polynesians ; and the conjecture pos- sessing perhaps the highest degree of probability, is that which maintains its origin from Asia, through the Indian Archipelago." This theory, perhaps most generally received, is certainly not without weight; but on the other hand, it may be argued with equal truth that the rude efforts of all uncivilized nations must greatly resemble each other, that the same ideas spring up spon- taneously in the minds of men under the same circumstances and in the same stage of development ; and thus that no safe conclusion can be deduced from correspondences, which, however remarkable, may, after all, turn out to be entirely fortuitous. A. D. 1660, 118 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h a p. The evidence which has been adduced, that a higher state of civilization once existed in North America, naturally suggests the inquiry, whether we are to regard the Indians found on that continent by the Europeans, as de- scended from more cultivated ancestors, like those of Mexico and Central America from the builders of the pyramids and temples of Cholula and Pa- lenque. u The important question has not been solved," observes W. Van Humboldt, " whether that savage state, which even in America is found in va- rious gradations, is to be looked upon as the dawning of a society about to rise, or whether it is not the fading remains of one sinking amidst storms, overthrown and shattered by overwhelming catastrophes. To me the latter' supposition appears nearer the truth than the former." The physical simi- larity of the tribes spread over the whole continent from north to south, the resemblances that may be traced in their religion, manners, customs, and monuments, certainly favour the conclusion, that they are but different branches of one great family, whose civilization, though not uninfluenced from abroad, is yet principally aboriginal, and who, having attained a cer- tain stage of development, have, from various disturbing causes, retrograded into the condition in which we find them at the present day. Tradition, however, also dimly points to struggles and revolutions among them, and ruder tribes from the hyperborean regions may, as it records, have pressed down upon those settled in the more fertile valleys of the south, and forced them to take refuge in Mexico, and thus the present North American Indians may be descended from nomad hordes, who, like the Goths and Vandals in Europe, succeeded, by brute strength and overwhelming numbers, in extir- pating the less hardy, but more gifted races, to whose skill and labour we are indebted for these relics of a lost civilization. CHAPTER X. PROGRESS OF NEW NETHERLANDS. — DISSOLUTION OF NEW SWEDEN. — DIFFICULTIES WITH CON NECTICUT. — CAPTURE OF NEW YORK BY THE ENGLISH. — RECAPTURE BY THE DUTCH, AND FINAL CESSION TO ENGLAND. chap. After the death of Kieft, generally detested for his cruelty and caprice, the West India Company of Amsterdam appointed as his successor Peter A. D. 1816. Stuyvesant, governor of Curacoa, who, disabled from a wound received at the siege of St. Martin's, had returned to the United Provinces. He was a ge- nuine soldier, somewhat high and arbitrary, and determined to maintain the supremacy of the Company against the encroachments of " the rabble ; " yet brave without any tincture of cruelty, and open, honest, and downright in HISTORY OF AMERICA. 119 his dealings, both with the colonists and their adversaries. To his firmness chap. and capacity the Company trusted for the settlement of the long-pending dis- — putes with the people of New England, and for the repression of the rival A t D i'654?° emigrants from Sweden. The boundary question with Connecticut, the dis- covery of the river by the Dutch, their erection of the Fort of Good Hope, the encroachments of the New Englanders, and the disputes that had arisen in consequence, have been already described ; and these had now increased to such a pitch that it was feared lest the New Englanders, ten times as numerous as the Dutch settlers, might adopt a summary method of terminating the controversy. Soon after his arrival Stuyvesant was welcomed by a compli- mentary letter from the council of the United Colonies, but accompanied with a formidable enumeration of grievances, upon which he repaired to the fort of Good Hope in order to have a personal conference with the New England commissioners. The dispute was referred to arbitration, the issue proving entirely favourable to the people of Connecticut, who acquired the half of Long Island, and all the country running back from the Sound, to a line drawn parallel with, and only ten miles distant from, the Hudson. The Dutch were however to retain their trading fort of Good Hope. Fresh troubles were occasioned by the attempts of some settlers from New Haven to establish a colony on the Delaware. To this, which he deemed an unjustifiable encroachment, Stuyvesant was determined not to submit — he de- tained the vessel, which had touched at Manhattan, and proceeded to occupy the ground by the erection of Fort Casimir, measures which with the break- ing out of the war between Cromwell and the Dutch, had nearly led to an enterprise from Massachusetts for the conquest of New Netherlands. A fugitive Indian had endeavoured to provoke hostilities by a false statement of a pretended conspiracy between the Dutch and the neighbouring tribes, to cut off the exposed settlers of Connecticut — a story in itself sufficiently im- probable, and of which Stuyvesant sent an indignant denial to the council of Massachusetts. Although the commissioners for the United Colonies had decided that there was no sufficient ground for war, the people of Con- necticut and New Haven, having solicited and obtained some assistance from Cromwell, resolved to proceed to hostilities on their own account ; but being delayed a^ hile through the good offices of Roger Williams, the declaration of peace between the English and Dutch, which was made shortly afterwards, compelled them to break up the expedition. Opposed to a far superior force, Stuyvesant, though little disposed for sub- mission, felt that negociation was the only course he could venture to pursue with the New Englanders. But if the latter were far more numerous than the Dutch, the Dutch were, in their turn, far more numerous than the Swedes. With these intruders therefore Stuyvesant was prepared to deal in a manner more conformable with his soldier-like temper, and the imprudence of his ad- versaries soon afforded him a welcome opportunity. Jealous of the vicinity of Fort Casimir to their principal settlement of Christiana, Risings, the Swedish governor, partly by force and partly by stratagem, contrived to obtain posees- J 120 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, sion of the Dutch stronghold. In revenge for this outrage, Stuy vesant received the welcome order, twice renewed, to effect the reduction of the Swedish to 1*660. colonists. Gathering together a body of six hundred men, he proceeded to execute his commission ; the scattered settlers, after a brief resistance, were compelled to take the oath of allegiance to the States-General, being at the same time guaranteed the possession of their lands and property : and thus, after maintaining its footing for about seventeen years, came to an end the little colony of New Sweden, the members of which, always a mere handful, soon became incorporated with those who had conquered them. During the absence of the governor, the Indians had made an abortive attempt to sur- prise "New Amsterdam. They mustered in sixty-four canoes, ravaged the unprotected neighbourhood, and created considerable alarm in the little town, but dispersed to their forests as soon as the Dutch soldiery appeared in sight. It is worthy of remark, that the chief cities and settlements of America re- tain to this day evident traces of the people by whom they were planted, and of the circumstances under which they grew up. New England, peopled exclusively by Puritans, is still remarkable for the deep moral sense and serious deportment of its citizens ; Virginia, founded by courtiers and ca- valiers, for the more open manners, the impulsive generosity, and fiery temper of its planters ; while New York was from the first a cosmopolitan city, the resort of strangers of every faith and from every clime — a commercial rendezvous for merchants ; and by these characteristics it is still peculiarly distinguished. Hither had repaired some of those Waldenses, who, expelled from their valleys in Piedmont by the cruelty of the Sardinian king, had first found a refuge in Holland and Germany, together with persecuted Protest- ants from France and different countries of Europe, Puritans and other sec- taries from New England, Jews, refugees, and distressed persons of every shade of belief, who were alike sheltered by the wise policy of the West India Company, and allowed the free exercise of their respective modes of worship. A considerable number of negro slaves were also imported by the special in- structions of the Company. Thus mixed were the elements of the future state, and free the toleration in religious matters. From the exercise of popular rights, the people were, however, zealously excluded by the policy of the Company. A body of settlers of such various origin, most of whom had lived contentedly under monarchical or aristocratical institutions, were not at first animated by the same restless desire for self-government which characterized emigrants of the purely English blood. But this spirit was not long in breaking forth, partly from that natural impulse which stirs in the breasts of those who have subdued the wilderness, and partly also from the contagious influence of the neigh- bouring states of New England. Unlike that colony, New Netherlands had not been founded by the voluntary compact of freemen, but was a commercial plantation made by a privileged company, and managed by them exclusively for their own interests. The power delegated by them to the governor was bestowed for this purpose, and exercised in this spirit. The settlers might HISTORY OF AMERICA. 121 complain of, but they could not control, the arbitrary measures of Stuyvesant, chap. who appointed to all subordinate offices, and levied taxes at his own discre- x. tion. When his proceedings were deemed rash or high-handed by the West to 1*664. India Company they checked him as they thought proper, whilst they urged him to pay no attention whatever to the impatient demands of the settlers for self-government, and in levying the taxes to hare no regard to their consent. Thus urged and supported at home, Stuyvesant set his face as a flint against the tide of democratic encroachment. A convention of two delegates from every village met to deliberate upon the state of the colony, and in a pe- tition suggested and drawn up by a settler from New England, demanded the abrogation of arbitrary misrule, and asserted their own right of approving, at the least, the laws which were made for their own government. Stuyvesant, however, was inflexible, and after some sarcastic allusions to the origin of the petition, and soldier-like sneers at the exercise of " rabble " sovereignty, pe- remptorily dissolved this self-constituted convention. This enforced obedi- ence was accompanied by a sullen discontent, which the New England settlers, who were both numerous and active, were not slow in inflaming. The people, too weak to resist, evinced a passive dissatisfaction with their institutions, murmurs and questionings of the authority of the Company were heard on all sides, and it soon became evident that they would offer but a. spiritless resist- ance to the menaced invasion of the New Englanders, which perhaps they secretly invoked, as bringing in its train the popular liberties after which they sighed. The position of Stuyvesant became from day to day more insecure, but he bore up bravely against his difficulties. The weak and divided con- dition of New Netherlands encouraged fresh demands and aggressions on the part of her more powerful neighbours. Massachusetts claimed the Upper Hudson ; the Connecticut settlers, regardless of the limits agreed upon by the treaty, pushed nearer and nearer to New Amsterdam. The New England settlers on Long Island, though under Dutch jurisdiction, invited the pro- tection of Connecticut. In vain did Stuyvesant repair personally to Boston ; he met only with delays and evasions. In vain did he invoke the public spirit he had repressed, call together the assembly he had formerly dissolved ; it passively recommended him to apply to the States-General and the West India Company for that protection which they were unable to afford. With as little success did the zealous old governor appeal to his employers at home, and, setting before them his perils and perplexities, entreat for succour before it should prove too late. Unable or unwilling to incur any further expense on behalf of the colony, they had left it to defend itself even against the Con- necticut settlers, and the rumours of an English plot to take possession of the province, in a time of profound peace, were received by them with incredulous apathy. That design, however, so often meditated by f .he people of New Eng- land, was now to be carried out in earnest. Sc ,n after the restoration of Charles II. the Duke of York, having purchased up some old claims, received from the king a grant of the country from the Connecticut to the Delaware, and a fleet of three armed vessels, having on board Sir Robert Nichols, Sir X A. D. 1664, 122 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. George Cartwright, and Sir Robert Carr, as commissioners, and a large body of soldiers, was sent to take possession of the country. Touching at Boston, where they vainly waited awhile for recruits, and taking on board Winthrop the governor of Connecticut, who had considerable influence among the Dutch, they quietly dropped anchor in the vicinity of New Amsterdam. Rumours of their design had indeed reached that city, but no effectual defence had been, or indeed could be, attempted by the Dutch. Stuyvesant endeavoured to awaken the spirit of the inhabitants to a gallant defence by recalling to them the recent heroic struggle of the fatherland against the Spaniards, but he met but with a feeble response. Determined at least to put a bold front upon the matter, he sent in concert with the deputies to request of the English com- mander the reason of his hostile appearance. Nichols replied by asserting the claims of England, and demanding an immediate surrender of New Amster- dam on condition that the lives, liberties, and property of the inhabitants should be respected. Stuyvesant retorted by a spirited protest, detailing the manner in which the Dutch had obtained a lawful possession of the country, affecting to doubt whether, " if his Majesty of Great Britain were well informed of such passages, he would not be too judicious to grant such an order" as that by which he was summoned, especially in a time of profound peace ; and reminding the commissioners that it was " a very considerable thing to affront so mighty a state as Holland, although it were not against an ally and con- federate." Neither argument nor threats produced, however, any effect upon the English commander, who refused to protract the negociation, and threat- ened an immediate attack upon the city. Grating as it was to the spirit of the old soldier to surrender without a struggle, he was compelled to submit to circumstances ; the majority of the inhabitants were unwilling to run all the risks of an assault to which they could not hope to offer any effectual oppo- sition, in defence of a government with which they were discontented, against another which many among them Avere secretly disposed to welcome. Like the ass in the fable, they had nothing to fear, and something perhaps to hope for, from a change of masters. It was in vain for Stuyvesant to contend ; the influence of Winthrop had been active among the New Englanders ; the com- missioners advocated a surrender, which was consented to by the majority, and quietly carried out on the succeeding days. The terms granted were liberal, and the inhabitants were satisfied, although Stuyvesant held out to the last, and did not ratify the articles until two days after they had been signed by the commissioners. The whole province, together with the city, now received the appellation of New York. In a few days, Fort Orange on the Hudson capitulated, and exchanged its name for Albany. A treaty was here concluded with the chiefs of the five nations, whose hostilities had occasioned so much distress to the Dutch. Sir George Cai. meanwhile entered the Delaware, and received the submission of the settlers; and thus by a claim asserted without a tittle of foundation, and enforced without the shedding of a single drop of blood, the whole of North America passed quietly into the possession of England. The HISTORY OF AMERICA. 1?3 Dutch soon became as loyal as their English neighbours; few of them re- chap. turned to Holland, and even the stern old Stuyvesant himself, attached to ■ — the country, remained to end his career under the allegiance he had so to 1672. stoutly tried to repudiate. Simultaneous with the English conquest of New Netherlands was the establishment of another State. The country between the Hudson and the Delaware had been conveyed by the Duke of York to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Cartaret. Sir George had been governor of the island of Jersey during the civil war, and had gallantly defended it for Charles I. ; and in compliment to him, the province received the name of New Jersey. This extensive tract was then but very thinly inhabited. The settlements of the Swedes upon the Delaware, and their expulsion thence by Stuyvesant, together with his frustration of the scheme of emigration from New Haven, have been already described. A few Quakers and Puritans had nevertheless been per- mitted to naturalize themselves on the banks of the Raritan ; extensive pur- chases had been made from the Indians ; and a few scattered hamlets and isolated farms appeared at wide intervals in the immense expanse of wilderness. It was the policy of the proprietaries to attract settlers for their thinly peo- pled territory by offering to them the most advantageous terms. Absolute freedom of worship, a colonial assembly, which had the sole power of taxa- tion, and participated in the legislative but not the executive government of the province, with a moderate quit-rent not to be collected till 1770, were the principal inducements. The proprietaries reserved the right of checking the local legislation and of appointing the officers of government. Messengers were despatched to New Haven, from whence a considerable emigration of the Puritans soon took place. The liberality of the institutions, the beauty of the climate, attracted many to the new State, the " Paradise " of those who delighted in an untrammeled and primitive form of society, because " it had no lawyers, or physicians, or parsons." It soon became evident that the settlers were im- patient even of the slightest restraints. Philip Carteret had been appointed go- vernor of the new province, to the great discontent of Nichols, who protested in vain against this encroachment upon his jurisdiction. Upon the attempt of the former, in 1670, to collect the quit-rents for the proprietaries, a general discontent, and at length an open insurrection, broke out. The lands had in most cases been purchased from the Indians by the actual tenants, and having satisfied this original claim, they repudiated the further demand of a quit- rent as unjustifiable. The assembly convened at Elizabeth-town deprived the governor of his functions, elected in his place the young James Carteret, a natural son of Sir George, who had studiously encouraged the agitation, whilst Philip was compelled to fly to England, to justify his conduct, and seek for a reinforcement of his authority. Although no advances towards a popular government of his newly-acquired State were made by the Duke of York, the passing of a code embodying many valuable privileges and customs derived from local experience, and adapted to the wants of the colonists, trial by jury being among them, was one of his r 2 1£4 HISTORY OF AMERICA. X A.. D. 1673 chap, earnest measures. But that democratic spirit which had led the inhabit- ants of the colony to rebel against the arbitrary government of Stuyvesant, and to welcome the English rule as promising a more liberal policy, dissatis- fied and disappointed with these concessions alone, vented itself in angry and bitter remonstrances against a system no less despotic than the former. The merchants were oppressed by fresh duties, which, to swell the coffers of the Duke of York, were levied upon their imports and exports. Thus at the moment when, war having been declared between England and Holland, a Dutch fleet suddenly appeared before the city, a general disaffection prevailed amongst the citizens, and Colonel Manning, who, in the absence of the go- vernor, Lovelace, held possession of the fort with a small body of English soldiers, was compelled to surrender without resistance. For awhile New York again became a Dutch city, and was under a Dutch governor ; but a peace concluded the following year, by which it was agreed that all con- quests were to be mutually restored, it was again replaced in the hands of the English. On resuming his original possessions, and obtaining a fresh grant, which in- creased his territorial pretensions, and which empowered him " to govern the inhabitants by such ordinances as he and his assigns should establish," the Duke of York sent over Major Edmund Andros, to assume the office of go- vernor, to assert his proprietary rights, and consolidate his scattered territories under one uniform system of administration. With this view, one of the first proceedings of Andros was an expedition to Fort Saybrook, with a small force, in order to enforce the claim of the Duke to all such territory between the Hudson and the Connecticut, as had been settled by the citizens of the latter State. He was astonished at the sturdy resolution of the Connecticut men, who refused even to listen to the reading of his commission, and without violence, but by a display of power which he was unable to resist, compelled him to return disconcerted to New York. Perhaps this first taste of the spirit of the provincials over whom he was called upon to preside, together with the increasing dissatisfaction at taxes levied by irresponsible authority, and fresh demands for a system of self-government, may have led him to advise the Duke, his master, to grant to the people of New York a charter, similar to that enjoyed by the other American provinces. This boon, however, was not for the present conceded to them. Meanwhile, it is necessary to glance at the progress of affairs in New Jersey. The dissension that took place in that infant colony on the subject of the quit-rents, has been already described. Cartaret, the governor, had been forced by a mutinous assembly to retire to England, whence he shortly re- turned invested with fresh powers from the Duke of York. Soon after the recovery of the province from the Dutch, Berkeley, one of the proprietors, disposed of his share of New Jersey to a company .of Quakers, who, exposed in England to the contempt and persecution of every party in the state, were desirous of obtaining a place of refuge in the distant West. A dispute be- tween the proprietors was settled by the arbitration of William Penn, who HISTORY OF AMERICA. 125 now first appears in connexion with the history of America, and not long after c ha p. Cartaret consented to a formal partition of the province into two distinct sec- — — tions, called East and West Jersey. West New Jersey thus became a colony to 1683. of Friends, liberty of conscience and democratic equality were established by them; sincere lovers of peace, they soon came to a friendly understanding with the Delaware Indians, large reinforcements of their persecuted brethren successively arrived, and the little Quaker State rapidly assum'ed an appear- ance of almost Utopian prosperity and concord. Whilst in the neighbouring harbour of New York duties and customs were levied at the arbitrary pleasure of the English Duke, freedom of trade was established in New Jersey. Such an anomaly could not be suffered to subsist, and Andros, in the spirit of his instructions, set himself to do it away with a high hand. He prevented vessels from landing on the shore of Jersey until the obnoxious imposts had been paid ; asserted his jurisdiction over that province, seized and tried the governor, Cartaret, who refused to yield to his pretensions, and in the face of his acquittal by a jury, kept him in confine- ment until the matter could be referred to England. These aggressions aroused in both the Jerseys a determined spirit of resistance ; even the pacific Quakers asserted the constitutional principles of justice and the common law. The document containing their arguments in support of the views of the colonists, drawn up by Penn and others of his persuasion, is well worthy of being cited as a fine specimen of the combined mildness and firmness in the pursuit of liberty, which characterize the proceedings of that sect and their associates. " To all prudent men," says the remonstrance, " the government of any place is more inviting than the soil. For what is good land without good laws ? the better the worse. And if we could not assure people of an easy, and free, and safe government, both with respect to their spiritual and worldly property — that is, an uninterrupted liberty of conscience, and an in- violable possession of their civil rights and freedoms, by a just and wise go- vernment — a mere wilderness would be no encouragement ; for it were a madness to leave a free, good, and improved country, to plant in a wilderness, and there adventure many thousands of pounds to give an absolute title to another person to tax us at will and pleasure. We humbly say, that we have lost none of our liberty by leaving our country ; that the duty imposed upon us is without precedent or parallel ; that, had we foreseen it, we should have preferred any other plantation in America. Besides, there is no limit to this power ; since we are, by this precedent, taxed without any law, and thereby excluded from our English right of assenting to taxes, what security have we of any thing we possess? We can call nothing our own, but are tenants at will, not only for the soil, but for our personal estates. Such conduct has de- stroyed governments, but never raised one to any true greatness." By the consent of both parties the disputed question was referred to the decision of Sir William Jones, one of the most eminent lawyers of the time. His opinion was unfavourable to the pretensions of the Duke of York, who thereup >n by a fresh indenture, resigned all claim to both West and East 1£G HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. Jersey, which, thus left almost entirely to their own internal government, con- ■ — tinued rapidly to increase. A D 1683 The cruel persecution of the Scottish Presbyterians also drove forth a large body of them, who emigrated to East New Jersey, and added their national characteristics to those of the numerous fugitives from all parts of Europe, who sought refuge from religious intolerance in the New World, and con- tributed to build up the majestic fabric of the great and free republic. On his first visit to England Andros had endeavoured to convince the Duke of York that it would be necessary to concede a system of self-government to the discontented colonists — on a subsequent occasion his request was power- fully seconded by symptoms of determined opposition to the arbitrary levy of taxes under the sole authority of the Duke. A jury in New York had by their verdict declared that they deemed this measure illegal, and the same opinion was expressed by the lawyers in England. Overwhelmed with fresh petitions from the council, court of assize, and corporation, praying that they might participate in the government, a request reinforced by Penn, whose influence with him was considerable, the Duke of York was at length compelled to yield, and Dongan was sent out as governor, empowered to ac- cede to the wishes of the colonists, and to summon the freeholders to choose their representatives. Accordingly, on the 17th of October, 1683, met the first popular assembly in the state of New York — consisting of the governor and ten counsellors, with seventeen deputies elected by the freeholders. A de- claration of rights was passed; trial by jury was confirmed; and taxes hence- forth were to be levied only with the consent of the assembly. Every freeholder was entitled to a vote for the representatives. Religious liberty was declared. Such was the spirit in which the assembly proceeded to exercise their newly- acquired powers. One of their acts was entitled " The Charter of Liberties and Privileges granted by his Poyal Highness to the Inhabitants of New York and its Dependencies." The following year another session was held, to the great satisfaction of the colonists ; but soon afterwards the flattering prospect thus opened to them of redressing their own grievances, and of managing their own affairs, was interrupted by the accession of the Duke of York to tne throne of England. HISTORY OF AMERICA, 127 CHAPTER XI. CONTINUATION OF HISTORY OF VIRGINIA, FROM THE DEATH OF JAMES I. TO THE DEPOSITION OF JAMES II. It has been seen that the people of Virginia, at the period when the charter chap. of the Company was dissolved by the arbitrary proceedings of James I., — who had intended to frame a code for their compulsory adoption, were al- ready, under the auspices of Sir G. Yeardley, in possession of all the elements of self-government. Although, by the dissolution of the charter, the right of governing the colony devolved exclusively on Charles I., it does not ap- pear that he either attempted or even meditated any invasion of its popular rights. For this indeed no motive existed. Unlike Massachusetts, the nursery of a religious faction hostile to the court, Virginia had established episcopacy upon its soil, and its population was known to be loyally affected to the crown. All that the monarch, pressed as he was for money, seems to have desired, was a monopoly of the profits formerly accruing to the Com- pany ; and in order that this might be conceded with a good grace by the colonists, he declared his intention of not interfering with their established franchises, and referred his proposal for the monopoly to the consideration of the assembly. The popular Yeardley was appointed as successor to Wyatt, who desired to return to England. Under his administration the colony con- tinued to flourish, but his career of government, so beneficial to the Virginians, being shortly after closed by death, the council, by the power vested in them, proceeded to elect West, and afterwards Doctor Potts, as temporary governors, until the arrival of Sir John Harvey with the royal commission. The new governor appears, from various causes, to have been exceedingly disliked. He was the member of a party hostile to the liberties of the Virginians, and was accused of consulting the interests of favourites more than the welfare of the colony itself. The general dislike magnified his delinquencies, and when, instead of sheltering Clayborne, whose quarrel with Lord Baltimore was espoused by the people, he sent him to England for trial, the exasperation reached its height ; a majority in the council suspended the obnoxious go- vernor from his office, and prepared articles of impeachment against him. Harvey repaired to England, together with his accusers, but they were not now admitted to a hearing of their charges, and he soon after reappeared in Virginia as governor. He was however superseded, in 1639, by Sir Francis "Wyatt, until, in 1642, Sir William Berkeley arrived to assume the adminis- tration. The new governor soon rendered himself as popular as Harvey had become detested. He not only did not interfere with the established privileges 128 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of the colonists, but assisted them in carrying out a system of legislation — adapted to their own expressed wishes and peculiar local requirements. to 1*658. The royal monopoly alone, with which the Virginians had been threatened, appeared as a serious grievance : they earnestly protested against its estab- lishment ; but as it was not for the present carried out, they soon became reconciled, and even attached, to the exercise of the regal authority. Such was the state of affairs, when, after the struggle in England between the king and his parliament, the authority of the latter became there de- cisively established. During its progress, the Virginians had warmly sympa- thized with the cause of the monarch, they looked upon his execution with horror, and boldly declared their allegiance to his son in the face of all the • formidable power of parliament. This feeling of ardent loyalty had been in- flamed by the constant emigration of a large body of Cavaliers, who fled to Virginia to sigh over their ruined fortunes, or, haply, to nourish schemes for the future restoration of the royal authority. The warm-hearted governor and the hospitable planters received them with open arms ; a correspondence had been opened with the fugitive prince, who gratefully sent over his royal reappointment of Berkeley as governor. Provoked at this open renunciation of their authority, and perhaps apprehensive that Virginia might become the nucleus of some dangerous plot, the parliament, with characteristic vigour, proceeded to assert and enforce their claim to her obedience. They fitted out a squadron, which, after reducing the recusant West India colonies, at length appeared in the waters of the Chesapeake. Resistance was in vain; and, moreover, the parliament had adopted the wisest measures, not only to secure the allegiance, but even to engage the gratitude of the Virginians. The late king had threatened them with his system of commercial monopoly ; the par- liamentary commissioners offered them a perfect freedom of trade. Not only was their representative system maintained in its integrity, but they were al- lowed to choose their own governors, and to acquire an absolute right of control over the levying and disposing of the taxes ; so that their allegiance was rendered little more than nominal. The affections of the Virginians were with the " sainted " monarch, as he had been called by them and by his banish- ed son ; but a wise regard to their own liberties, with the liberal concessions of the parliament, led them to accept its supremacy. Berkeley retired unmo- lested into private life, and Richard Bennett, one of the parliamentary com- missioners, with the consent of the assembly, succeeded him, Clayborne being appointed for his secretary : on his retirement from office, Edward Diggs, and after him Samuel Matthews, one of the planters, were elected by the people to the vacant office. Virginia continued for several years to enjoy, under this system, an almost entire tranquillity and a rapid development of her internal resources. Uni- versal suffrage, freedom of trade, the choice of a governor, and the control over the taxes were established. Although episcopacy was rooted in the affections of the people, and established by law, there was in fact, with the exception of the Quakers, a practical toleration of other sects. There was a law against A. D. 1644. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 12D Dissenters, but it was not put into force. Various Nonconformists had long c ha p enjoyed, unmolested, the liberty of worship, when the breaking out of hos- tilities between the king and parliament led to a revival of the obnoxious statutes and to the banishment of Dissenters by Berkeley. The parliamentary commissioners had been particularly enjoined to enforce the abolition of epis- copacy, but this they found to be impossible, and though liberty for sectaries was for a time established, Virginia remained at heart firmly attached both to the state religion and to the royal family. During the administration of Berkeley fresh troubles had arisen with the Indians, who had not yet renounced the visionary hope of cutting off or starv- ing the colonists. They had sown what they had reaped, blood was repaid with blood. After their memorable conspiracy, it became a standing law to the colonists to advance every year upon "their adjoining salvages" and massacre them — a cruel reprisal, which probably led to another and equally hopeless at tempt by the Indians, who cut off the straggling colonists, but fled as before at the aspect of determined resistance. The aged Opechancanough was taken prisoner and put to death. A treaty of peace was concluded with his successor, on condi- tion of a large cession of territory, and the Indians, their power finally broken, began to retreat from the face of the white men towards the boundless west. The immense development of the Dutch commercial marine has been already noticed. Their ships had acquired a large proportion of the carrying trade of the colonies. To check their rapid encroachments, from which the English shipping interests were severely suffering, the parliament determined on adopting a defensive policy. Accordingly an act was passed against the importation of any merchandise from Asia, Africa, or America, except in ves- sels English built, and manned and owned either in the mother country or her dependent colonies. This act, intended solely for the protection of British shipping, appeared unfavourable to Virginian commerce, yet it occa- sioned but little interruption to her trade with Holland, even during the war between that country and England, and generally appears to have been practi- cally disregarded or evaded. At the death of Cromwell the succession of his brother Richard was pro- claimed without opposition. Through the troubled state of affairs in England, an impending change was not improbably foreseen by the Vir- ginians, who, though secretly desirous for the restoration of the monarchy, were chiefly intent upon the maintenance of that increased measure of self- government which they had obtained from the parliament. The death of Matthews happened during that interregnum between the resignation of Richard Cromwell and the restoration of Charles II. The royalist tendencies of the Virginians might now venture to display themselves, and Sir William Berkeley, who had passed several years among the colonists in honourable retirement, was restored by them to his original dignity. In entering again upon his functions he acknowledged the authority of the assembly which had reappointed him, and agreed not to dissolve it without the consent of the ma- jority of its members. 130 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1669 chap. Before we pursue the narrative of the affairs of Virginia it is desirable, if not essential, to form a clear conception of the elements of society existing in that colony. Originally settled by offshoots or adherents of the English no- bility, it had received a more decidedly aristocratic cast from the influx of Cavaliers during the civil war in England, who carried with them to the New World their hereditary prejudices in favour of the privileges conferred by birth and rank, and a contemptuous disregard of popular rights and preten- sions. Underlying this class was another, consisting of free descendants of the first settlers of inferior rank, and also of indented servants who had been brought over by the planters, and who, bound to labour for a certain number of years, were, during that period, virtually in a state of serfdom. The intro- duction of negro slaves has been already mentioned ; they had since that period very largely increased, and were destitute, as at the present hour, not only of the rights of freemen, but even of those of humanity itself. The aristocratic class naturally acquired a great, and now almost uncon- trolled ascendency, which was further increased by the establishment of the Anglican Episcopal church. The restoration of Charles II., and the arbi- trary tendencies of the English government, strengthened still more its power and pretensions, and encouraged it to aim at the uncontrolled direction of affairs. It has been already mentioned that, in anticipation of the re-establish- ment of the monarchy, Sir William Berkeley, deposed by parliamentarian influence, had been re-elected as governor by the royalist party, who pre- dominated in the assembly. High-spirited and brave, but obstinate and im- patient of opposition, he displayed in a characteristic degree both the virtues and vices of his order. Attached to the soil of Virginia, with which he had identified his interests and his pleasures, his views of her requirements never extended beyond the narrow limits of a class legislation. His policy accorded perfectly with that of the assembly by which he had been chosen, and their influence was united to perpetuate the tenure of that power already in their hands. The term for which they were authorized to hold office was two years, when a fresh election should, according to previous usage, have taken place. They continued, nevertheless, quietly to retain possession of their seats, to obtain the reappointment of Berkeley, and to legislate in a spirit entirely favourable to their own interests. Furthermore, in order to insure the con- tinuance of aristocratic influence, they disfranchised, by their own act, a large proportion of the people who had chosen them, confining in future the exercise of the elective privilege to freeholders and housekeepers alone. The taxes became exorbitant, the governor and assembly were overpaid, while all power of checking these disorders was taken out of the hands of the people. The discontents engendered in the minds of the commonalty by these and other encroachments on the part of the assembly, were suspended for a while by the union of all parties in a common protest against the navigation act. The opposition to this measure in Massachusetts has been already mentioned. It bore with peculiar severity upon the trade of the Virginians. Compelled to send their tobacco exclusively to England, their market was at once narrowed and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 131 their prices reduced, and they even meditated a desperate attempt to raise it chap. by leaving the land uncultivated for a year, thus producing an artificial ! scarcity. Berkeley was sent to England at a heavy expense, with the hope of A to D i67o?° obtaining some relief for the planters ; but was entirely unsuccessful in his mission, although he contrived to obtain for himself a share in the newly- erected province of Carolina. Meanwhile the proceedings of the Virginia as- sembly were but an echo of those of the government in England. Intolerance obtained the ascendency, nonconformity was rendered penal, old edicts were revived and sharpened, and fresh ones enacted against Puritans, Baptists, and Quakers, who were visited with fines and banishment. With the re- membrance of what had happened during the civil war, the pulpit itself was dreaded as an engine for moving the public mind, and Berkeley expressed his wish that even the established ministry "should pray oftener, and preach less." Education was studiously discouraged. " I thank God," continues the governor, " that there are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope we shall not have this hundred years, for learning has brought disobedience, and heresies, and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from both ! " he piously concludes. Such was the aim of the party in power, to maintain the domination of a body of wealthy aristocratic planters, over a submissive and ignorant commonalty, and an abject herd of indented white servants and of negro slaves. Between the two latter classes, indeed, a marked distinction should be ob- served. The white man might and often did break through the trammels of a temporary servitude, and enrol himself among the ranks of freemen, though for a while deprived by an arbitrary majority of his legitimate privilege of the franchise. For the wretched negro there was no such hope, and the laws now formally passed constituted him and his posterity the absolute property of masters, who might whip, brand, torture, or even kill them, with a restraint that was little more than nominal. Even his conversion to the faith of his master was declared, by a decision of clerical casuists, to involve no forfeiture of this unholy bond, — Christian or heathen, he still remained a slave. It would be unjust, however, to involve the Virginia assembly alone in the guilt of thus establishing slavery, since, with the exception of a few bene- volent minds, whose clearness of moral vision no sophistry could cloud, the negro was then universally regarded as being both by nature and provi- dence destined to be the bondman of the white ; and we are shortly after pained at discovering that the profound philosopher who probed the myste- rious laws of the human understanding, conferred, without misgiving, the sanction of his illustrious name upon this atrocious violation of human rights. "While the popular discontent was rapidly coming to a head, fresh alarm was created by the intelligence that the English monarch, with the reckless prodigality which distinguished him, had granted away the entire colony to the Lords Culpepper and Arlington, two of his rapacious courtiers, against whose claims it was thought necessary at first to enter a protest, and if this were unavailing, to buy them out ; measures which occasioned the call for a fresh s 2 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, levy of taxes, already insupportably severe. Moryson, Ludwell, and Smith were — despatched to England on this business, and the governor and assembly em- ' braced the opportunity of soliciting from the court a royal charter, which should confirm them in the privileges they had recently assumed. This re- quest was conceded ; but, before the document had passed the seals, a for- midable rebellion had already broken out in Virginia. Its immediate occasion, or pretext, appears to have arisen out of certain disputes with the Indians, in regard to which, as in so many similar instances in American history, it is difficult to arrive at the exact truth. Virginia, it must be remembered, had suffered too deeply from the treacherous outbreaks of the Indians, not to be predisposed, even after an interval of thirty years' peace, to take the worst view of their character and intentions, which the war with Philip of Pokanoket, then raging in Massachusetts, could not fail to strengthen. The Senecas had attacked and driven the Susquehannahs upon the frontiers of Maryland, with which state a war had arisen, in which the neighbouring Virginians became involved. Certain outrages of the Indians had been resented by a planter named John Washington, who had emigrated some years back from the north of England, and became the founder of the family from which sprung the illustrious hero of the revolution. He had col- lected a body of his neighbours, besieged an Indian fort, and unhappily put to death six envoys, sent forth to treat of a reconciliation ; an outrage met on the part of the savages by the usual retaliation of murder, pillage, and incendiarism. The indignation of Berkeley was excessive when he heard of the flagrant violation of established custom, and which had led to such alarm- ing consequences. " Though they had killed my father and mother," he ex- claimed, " yet if they had come to treat of peace, they ought to have gone in peace." In the heated state of the public mind, he was accused, on account of enjoying a sort of monopoly of the beaver trade with them, of favouring the Indians ; but there is no reason to attribute to sordid self-interest an ex- clamation which appears to have been exclusively prompted by a feeling of humanity and justice. In this conjuncture the assembly met, and proceeded to pass an elaborate, and certainly unsuitable series of " articles of war." Certain forts were to be established, and communications kept up between them ; a system which in- volved a ruinous expense. The spontaneous movements of the colonists in checking sudden attacks, and their tendency to indulge in fierce and bloody re- prisals, were also restrained to a degree of which they became impatient. The bitterest discontent prevailed, the scheme proposed by government was pro- nounced ineffective and costly, and the more ardent declared their intention of taking vengeance with their own hands, and on their own responsibility, for any hostilities the Indians should hereafter dare to commit. The chief of the malcontents, who numbered among them not a few of the rich and influential planters, was a young man named Nathaniel Bacon, but recently arrived from England. Educated in the temple, eloquent and of good address, and of active and ardent temperament, he had rapidly risen into no- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 133 tice. Being himself the owner of estates in Virginia, and, together with chap. his uncle, a member of the council, he was thus looked up to by the dis — — - affected as possessing both the qualities and influence required in a popular leader. Whilst the public excitement was at its utmost height, the news ar- rived that the Indians had broken in upon his plantation and murdered some of his servants ; upon which he instantly flew to arms, and being joined by a large body of people, set off in pursuit of the marauders. The governor, re- garding this proceeding as an insult to his authority, proclaimed Bacon as a rebel, deprived him of his seat in the council, and called upon all those who respected his own authority to disperse immediately. Some of the less zeal- ous of the insurgents obeyed the summons and returned to their homes ; but this defection did not restrain their leader, who pushed forward in hot pursuit of the Indians. Some bodies of the latter were still on a friendly footing, al- though suspected ; and when nearly out of provisions, Bacon and his company approached one of their forts and requested a supply. This being protracted until their necessity became extreme, the English crossed the river in order to compel their acquiescence : a shot was discharged from the shore, which induced Bacon to retaliate by attacking thq fort, and putting a hundred and fifty Indians to the sword. Thus, as was so often the case in these miserable quarrels, did the innocent suffer for the guilty, and the flames of mutual ani- mosity become more widely extended. The exasperated governor, meanwhile, had scarcely left James Town with a body of troops for the purpose of seizing Bacon and his followers, when a general explosion of popular discontent broke out in his rear. The rising of the young planter, and the absence of the governor, emboldened the dis- affected in the lower counties to fly to arms, and demand the dissolution of the assembly. Berkeley was compelled to give way before the storm of popular indignation. The " royal " assembly was accordingly broken up ; and writs be- ing issued for a fresh election, a large body of representatives were chosen, who were bent upon redressing the grievances under which Virginia had so long groaned. Among these newly-elected burgesses Bacon was returned in triumph ; but as he repaired to James Town in an armed sloop, he was inter- cepted and seized by order of the governor, and compelled, in the presence of the assembly, to beg pardon for his mutinous behaviour, offering his estate as a security for future obedience. The members of the new assembly were not long met before they proceeded to restore their franchise to those freemen who had been deprived of it by their predecessors, and to carry reform into every department of the adminis- tration. Bacon, in the mean time, perhaps suspicious of treachery on the part of the governor, had secretly absconded, and gathered together a body of four hundred of his adherents, who, before Berkeley could assemble the mi- litia to withstand them, appeared in formidable array upon the green at James Town. The assembly being convoked, Bacon himself soon after approached with a guard of soldiery for the purpose of stating his grievances. The go- vernor, accompanied by several of the members, went forth to meet him in a A. D. 1676. 134 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, state of the highest exasperation — his cavalier blood boiled within him at find- ing himself thus outwitted and brow-beaten by a rebel, he tore open his dress, and exposing his breast, exclaimed, half choked with passion, " Here, shoot me ! Fore God ! fair mark, shoot me ! " passionately reiterating his insane request ; to which Bacon, though also highly excited, replied, " No, may it please your honour, we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's — we are come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised, and now Ave '11 have it before we go." The insurgents also made the same demand, accompanied by menaces in case of refusal, of the as- sembly itself, who, thus threatened, and with many among them who were the partisans of the rebel leader, were content enough to give way before the po- pular movement, and to compel the governor, though sorely against his will, to accede to the demands of Bacon, and also to appoint him to the command of the forces sent against the Indians. This point being settled, the assembly pro- ceeded to enact many salutary reforms, popularly known as " Bacon's Laws," all tending to abate the exorbitant pretensions of the aristocratic party, and to restore to the mass of the people the privileges of which they had been un- justly deprived. • Thus by a sudden and well-concerted movement, and without the shedding of a drop of blood, a most salutary reformation had been effected. But it was impossible that matters could thus rest without a further struggle between the hostile parties. The supporters of aristocratic privilege encouraged Berkeley, whose adhesion to the new reforms had been most reluctantly con- ceded, and who was smarting under a sense of his recent humiliation, a second time to proclaim Bacon as a rebel ; to which the latter retorted by publishing his vindication and denouncing the tyranny of the governor, calling delegates to assemble and discuss the critical position of the colony. The popular party, among whom were many of the most influential citizens, rallied at his sum- mons, and agreed that they would defend him, even against troops that might be sent from England, until a statement and appeal could be forwarded to the king. Thus overborne a second time, the governor was compelled to retreat before the storm he had raised. His flight was regarded as an abdication, and writs were issued by Bacon for the election of a new assembly. Together with his partisans, Berkeley retired to Accomac, where by promises of pay and plunder he collected a considerable force, with which he soon returned in triumph to the seat of government, which had been abandoned on his approach; but his exultation was soon interrupted by the reappearance of Bacon, with an arma- ment, which, although inferior to his own in numbers, was animated by a far more resolute and determined spirit. James Town immediately was invested, and Berkeley, finding his own ardour but indifferently seconded by his men, was a second time compelled to retreat some distance down the river. Bacon and his followers then re-entered the little town ; the only one which had yet grown up in a country where the planters were scattered at wide intervals along the numerous inlets and rivers, and consisting of but nineteen dweliirgs and a HISTORY OF AMERICA. 135 little church and state house. Lawrence, one of the most active among the chap. XI popular agitators, set fire to his own abode, and the little capital of Virginia '. — was soon enveloped in flames, which, seen to a considerable distance down the river, acquainted Berkeley and his adherents with the fate of the seat of government. This sacrifice, which, though painful to the feelings of the insurgents, was deemed necessary to prevent the governor's party from making a stronghold of the place, having been made, Bacon boldly marched against a large body who were advancing to attack him. Upon the desertion of this body their leaders speedily dispersed, leaving him free to prosecute the struggle with every prospect of a successful issue, when, to the grief and consternation of the popular party, he was suddenly cut off by a disorder contracted among the marshy lowlands of James Town. The death of their leader, cut off in the flower of his youth, and in the midst of a career of success, utterly disconcerted the measures and broke the spirits of the insurgents, while it gave increased confidence and activity to the governor and his adherents. The greater part of the popular leaders were surprised and taken, although some few held out with the courage of despair. Lawrence fled and was never heard of more ; Drummond and Horsford were made prisoners. The latter was first destined to feel the weight of the governor's vengeance, and was the first Virginian that ever suf- fered death by hanging. He met his fate with intrepidity, glorying in the cause of popular liberty for which he was called upon to lay down his life. Drummond soon after shared the same fate. The wife of Cheasman, another of the leaders, went on her knees before the governor, and pleading that her husband had become guilty through her instigation, earnestly besought him to allow her to suffer in his stead. Berkeley dismissed the agonized sufferer with a torrent of unmanly insult, and refused to show mercy to his victim, who escaped the ignominy of an execution by dying in prison soon afterwards, outworn with grief and misery. The weak, irritable old Cavalier, his pride mortified, and his possessions ravaged, showed like another JefFery in indiscriminate slaughter and confiscation. But his thirst for vengeance was interrupted by the protestations of the assembly, and by the arrival of com- missioners from England, who had been despatched upon the news of the re- bellion, and bearing a royal proclamation to all, with the exception of Bacon, who should submit within twenty days of its publication. They brought over with them a body of English soldiers, the first ever introduced into the American colonies. Even the arrival of the commissioners, although it operated as a check, did not however immediately cut short the merciless career of Berkeley. Suppressing the publication of the king's pardon, he still continued to execute and imprison the objects of his vengeance, who, brought to trial, were convicted by partial or terrified jurymen. Fines and confisca- tion were also resorted to, until the commissioners at length decisively inter- fered, and having declared their readiness to hear any complaints on the part of the colonists, so many were poured in that their report on the causes of the troubles was highly unfavourable to the governor, whose friends published a XI. A. D. 1G77. 136 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, protest against it, and who himself soon after returned to England, to appeal to the king, to the great satisfaction of the bulk of the colonists. But his ardent loyalty received a severe shock at hearing that Charles had said of him, " The old fool has taken away more lives in that naked country than I for the murder of my father ;" and consumed with chagrin at such a reception, and by the cen- sure upon his measures passed by the commissioners, he died not long after his return to the mother country. The reaction produced by the disastrous issue of Bacon's rebellion was very unfortunate for the colonists. Some trifling concessions were indeed made to their complaints, but the majority of those abuses by which they had been provoked into a rising remained in full force. The whole of " Bacon's Laws" enacted by the popular assembly were annulled, the franchise, as just be- fore, and not as originally, was restricted to freeholders alone, and the assembly chosen by it was only to meet once in two years, nor, except on special occasions, to remain in session for more than a fortnight. Oppressed with the still stricter enforcement of the navigation laws, which ruinously reduced the price of their staple, tobacco, saddled with the additional burden of supporting a body of English soldiers, forbidden even to set up a printing press, the Virginians might have seemed to be sunk into a condition of abject and hopeless dependency on the royal power. But a legitimate popular movement, even if it fail of its immediate object, never fails to awaken a spirit of resistance, which, though for a while suppressed, is destined some day to work out its desired results. The government of the unfortunate colony for the next ten years closely resembled that of the mother country itself, in the unblushing profligacy and rapacity of those by whom it was administered. The grant of Virginia to Arlington and Culpepper has been already mentioned. The latter nobleman had obtained the cession of his partner's share, and had been invested besides with the office of governor for life, as the successor of Berkeley. The spirit of sordid avarice which had infected the English court had alone dictated the request of these privileges, and in the same spirit was the administration of Culpepper conducted. Compelled to repair with reluctance from the delights of the court to the government of a distant province, his only indemnification was to make the best use of the period of his banishment. He carried out with him a general amnesty for the recent political offences, and an act for increasing the royal revenue by additional duties. He obtained a salary double that of Berkeley's, and still further contrived to swell his emoluments, and to satisfy his greediness by means of perquisites and peculations. The pinch began to be severely felt even by the most ardent loyalists, and symptoms of opposition arose in the assembly itself. The misery of the planters had led them to solicit the enforcement of a year's cessation from the planting of tobacco, the assembly could but refer it to " the pleasure of the king," and in the mean time the exasperated sufferers .proceeded to cut up the tobacco plants. These outrages, dictated by despair, led to several executions, and laws were passed for their future suppression. After thus conducting his HISTORY OF AMERICA. 137 administration for a period of three years, during which he twice repaired to c ha p. England, Culpepper was at length deprived of his office for various mal- A practices, while at the same time his claims over Virginia were commuted to i6S3. for a pension. Culpepper was succeeded by Lord Howard of Effingham, who sur- passed even his predecessor in the devisal of fresh expedients for fleecing the suffering colonists. New fees were multiplied, and a court of chancery established, of which he constituted himself the sole judge ; and after thus securing the lion's share for himself, participated, it is said, with his own clerks the perquisites of their offices. Despotism was rapidly attaining its climax. A frigate was stationed to enforce the stricter observation of the navigation laws, an additional excise duty in England on the import of tobacco still further discouraged trade. The conduct of the governor towards the assembly became more and more arbitrary, until scarcely the shadow of popular liberty was left. Such was the condition of affairs in Virginia at the accession of the last of the Stuarts. Alarming symptoms of insubordination having appeared, not only among the body of the people, but even in the assembly itself, who presumed to question the veto of the governor, that body, by order of the arbitrary monarch, was summarily dissolved. But the same spirit that was about to hurl James II. from the English throne was now fully awakened also in the breast of the Virginians, once so loyal, but whose loyalty had been too cruelly abused by an infatuated race of kings, and the next assembly was imbued with such a determination to maintain its privileges, that the governor, counting upon the royal support, determined, after a brief experience of its temper, to dissolve it upon his own authority ; upon which they deputed Ludwell, formerly conspicuous among the most influential loyalists, to complain of this abuse of authority. While Virginia had been agitated by rebellion and almost crushed by despotic encroachment, Maryland continued, with little interruption, her tran- quil and rapid progress. The broad and liberal basis upon which Cecil, Lord Baltimore, had planted his colony, the peaceful and happy circumstances of its settlement, insured, for the period of his own life-time at least, an almost total exemption from those disputes and revolutions that agitated the other American colonies, as well as a handsome return for the liberal expenditure he had been put to. He lived to see this colony widely extending its boundaries, and in- creased in wealth, population, and prosperity. As in Virginia, the cultiva- tion of tobacco was the principal staple, a great impulse was given to its increase by the introduction of slave labour ; and as in Virginia, a proportion- able discouragement by the navigation act. The wise endeavours of Lord Baltimore to secure an impartial toleration for all religious sects, through which the colony had so greatly prospered, and immigration from Europe so largely increased, were not in harmony with the bigoted spirit nor with the political tendencies of the times. The Catholics, by whom the first settlement had been made, had not increased in proportion to the Protestants. The Episcopal clergy, unlike their brethren in Virginia, 138 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, enjoyed no livings, and consequently no settled incomes, and bitterly com- — ■ plained to the English bishops of what they considered to be a degraded and ' miserable position. When, after the death of Lord Baltimore, his successor repaired to England, earnest attempts were made by the ecclesiastical authorities to enforce an establishment for the Anglican Church, a claim which he was enabled with some difficulty to resist. The prejudices of the times were, however, so unfavourable to the Catholics, both in England and in the colony itself, that an order was sent out by Charles II. to confine the possession of office to Protestants alone, a stretch of authority evidently unauthorized by the terms of the charter granted to his father, which exempted the proprietor from any control on the part of the crown. CHAPTER XII. FOUNDATION OF CAROLINA. — LOCKE'S SYSTEM OF LEGISLATION FOUND UNSUITABLE.— DIFFICUL- TIES WITH THE COLONISTS. — ABROGATION OF THE " GRAND MODEL." c h a p. The discovery of Florida by Ponce de Leon, and the attempt of Admiral — Coligny to found upon its shores a Protestant colony, so tragically defeated by the cruelty of Melendez, have been already narrated. Since that period Spain had never renounced her claims to an indefinite extent of country com- prised under the title of Florida, but had not carried her settlements further along the line of coast. The early colonists sent out by Raleigh left few or no traces behind them, nor does a patent granted by Charles I. to Sir Robert Heath, his attorney-general, for a tract to the southward of Virginia to be called Carolina, appear to have been followed by any result beyond a voyage of observation. Yet more than one band of immigrants had established them- selves at different points of this fertile territory. A small party from New England had settled near Cape Fear, bringing with them their love of self- government and peculiar religious views. Some of the pioneers of discovery who penetrated the wilderness to the southward of Virginia had opened the way for more numerous adventurers, some of them bodies of emigrant Dis- senters, who spread themselves over the vicinity of the river Chowan, and to the north of the neighbouring Sound. Soon after the restoration of Charles II., a body of courtiers of the highest rank, the Earl of Clarendon, Monk Duke of Albemarle, Lords Berkeley, Craven, and Ashley, Sir George Cartaret, Sir John Colleton, and Sir William Berkeley, governor of Virginia, " excited," as they affirmed, " by a laudable HISTORY OF AMERICA. 139 and pious zeal for the propagation of the gospel," but in reality by a desire to c ha p. obtain a rich and valuable territory, petitioned the king for a grant of the vast province, to be called Carolina, extending from Albemarle Sound to the river to ig38. St. John's, with a westward continuation to the Pacific. The charter, easily bestowed at their request by the careless and improvident monarch, resembled that of Maryland. The proprietors were to govern with the assent of a popular assembly which was conceded to the colonists, and no one might be molested for matters of religion, unless he disturbed the civil order and peace of the community. The first object of the proprietaries was to conciliate the afore-mentioned settlers from New England and Virginia. The former body, on hearing of the new grant, had claimed for themselves the privileges of self-government, which the proprietors, desirous of attracting fresh emigrants from New Eng- land, were readily disposed to concede. But the poverty of the soil, com- bined with the hostility of the Indians, outweighed their liberal offers ; the greater part of the inhabitants returned to New England, while those that lingered behind were reduced to such distress that contributions were levied by that colony for their relief. More fortunate was the issue of an emigration of planters from Barbadoes, who entered into an agreement with the proprietaries to remove to the neigh- bourhood of Cape Fear River, near the neglected settlement of the New Eng- enders. Sir John Yeamans, one of their number, was appointed governor of the new country, which received the name of Clarendon. He was espe- cially directed to " make things easy to the people of New England, from which the greatest emigrations were expected ; " an instruction which he car- ried out so wisely, as soon to incorporate the remains of the old settlement. He also opened a profitable trade in boards and shingles with the island whence he had emigrated, and arranged the general affairs of the little colony with great prudence and success. Towards the Virginia settlers on the Sound which, with the surrounding district, now received the name of Albemarle, and who were supposed by the proprietors to be " a more facile people " than the New Englanders, Berkeley, upon whom the jurisdiction had been conferred, was instructed to be some- what less lavish in his concessions. But to a body, many of whom had fled malcontent from Virginia, and with whose temper he was well acquainted, he judged it expedient to behave with caution. Making therefore the tenure of land as easy as possible, and appointing as governor the popular William Drummond, the same who afterwards shared and suffered death in Bacon's rebellion, he made no attempt at interference with existing usages. The noble proprietaries, meanwhile, upon a further acquaintance with their territory, became greedy of adding to it still greater, and indeed almost boundless, acquisitions. They obtained, with little more difficulty than at- tended the first, the grant of a second patent, by which their limits were increased half a degree northward, and a degree and a half southward, a boundary which, being run to the Pacific, included several of the modern t 2 A. D. 1669 140 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h a p. States, and even part of Mexico and. Texas. The Bahama Islands were also thrown in. Over this immense territory, which, had it been portioned out among its possessors, would have afforded a principality to each, the pro- prietors determined to establish a system of legislation, which should exhibit the utmost refinement of political sagacity. The office of drawing up this scheme devolved on Lord Shaftesbury, who, himself one of the most remark- able men of his time, called in the assistance of one far greater than himself, the immortal author of the " Essay upon the Human Understanding." In framing the desired plan, Locke appears to have steered midway between the democratic principles, of which he had witnessed the failure in England, and the royalist doctrines of the Tories, and to have lodged the principal power in the hands of an almost feudal aristocracy. His pompous and elaborate scheme for the government of a country which, with the exception of a few scattered settlers, was still in a state of nature, a scheme pronounced to be " incompara- ble, fundamental, and unalterable," never was nor could be carried into ex- ecution, and after a vain attempt to accommodate its provisions to a state of things to which it was totally unfitted, and much consequent hostility between the proprietaries and settlers, it was at length abrogated by the consent of both parties. A brief outline of its provisions, however, is due to the illustrious name of its founder. " The eldest of the eight proprietors was always to be palatine, and at his decease was to be succeeded by the eldest of the seven survivors. This pala- tine was to sit as president of the palatine's court, of which he and three more of the proprietors made a quorum, and had the management and execution of all the powers in their charter. This palatine's court was to stand in room of the king, and give their assent or dissent to all laws made by the legislature of the colony. The palatine was to have power to nominate and appoint the go- vernor, who, after obtaining the royal approbation, became his representative in Carolina. Each of the seven proprietors was to have the privilege of ap- pointing a deputy, to sit as his representative in parliament, and to act agree- ably to his instructions. Besides a governor, two other branches, somewhat similar to the old Saxon constitution, were to be established, an upper and lower house of assembly ; which three branches were to be called a parliament, and to constitute the legislature of the country. The parliament was to be chosen every two years. No act of the legislature was to have any force un- less ratified in open parliament during the same session, and even then to continue no longer in force than the next biennial parliament, unless in the mean time it be ratified by the hands and seal of the palatine and three pro- prietors. The upper house was to consist of the seven deputies, seven of the oldest landgraves and caciques, and seven chosen by the assembly. As in the other provinces, the lower house was to be composed of the representatives from the different counties and towns. Several officers were also to be ap- pointed, such as an admiral, a secretary, a chief justice, a surveyor, a trea- surer, a marshal, and register ; and besides these each county was to have a sheriff, and four justices of the peace. Three classes of nobility were to be HISTORY OF AMERICA. 141 established, called barons, caciques, and landgraves; the first to possess chap. twelve, the second twenty-four, and the third forty-eight thousand acres of ■ — land, and their possessions were to be unalienable. Military officers were also to be nominated, and all inhabitants from sixteen to sixty years of age, as in the times of feudal government, when summoned by the governor and grand council, were to appear under arms, and, in time of war, to take the field. With respect to religion, three terms of communion were fixed ; first, to be- lieve that there is a God ; secondly, that he is to be worshipped ; and thirdly, that it is lawful, and the duty of every man, when called upon by those in authority, to bear witness to the truth, without acknowledging which no man was to be permitted to be a freeman, or to have any estate or habitation in Carolina. But persecution for observing different modes and ways of wor- ship was expressly forbidden, and every man was to be left full liberty of con- science, and might worship God in that manner which he in his private judg- ment thought most conformable to the Divine will and revealed word. Every freeman of Carolina was declared to possess absolute power and authority over his negro slaves, of what opinion or religion soever." Before this cumbrous and unsuitable code had been sent over to Albemarle, the planters had already organized a system of legislation far simpler and better adapted to their wants. When at length " the model " appeared, it was found, as already stated, utterly impossible to carry it out. Other influ- ences had also been at work. A few persecuted Quakers had taken refuge in the colony, whom George Fox, the founder of their sect, now visited. His simple manners and fervent preaching made a great impression on the colon- ists, and made numerous converts, who, it may easily be supposed, were little inclined to accept a code which contradicted the fundamental principles of their belief. While these scattered colonists were growing up in habits of self-reliance and self-government, and acquiring a corresponding distaste for foreign con- trol, the proprietaries, after a long delay, sent out three vessels, with a body of emigrants, under the command of Captain William Sayle, who had already been employed in a preliminary exploration. An expense of £ 12,000 was in- curred in providing necessaries for the plantation of the colony. Touching at Port Royal, w r here they found traces of the fort erected by the Huguenots, they finally settled at a spot between two rivers, which they called the Ashley and the Cooper, the family names of Lord Shaftesbury, and where they laid the original foundations of Charleston, whence they removed, however, two years afterwards, in 1672, to the more commodious situation occupied by the present city. Before this removal took place, Sayle died, and was succeeded by Sir John Yeamans, governor of Clarendon, who introduced a body of negroes from Barbadoes, afterwards recruited so largely that they were twice as numerous as the whites. Slave labour soon became thus established in Carolina, to the soil and climate of which it was peculiarly adapted. During the next ensuing years a stream of emigrants poured in from England, Ireland, and Scotland, 142 HISTORY OF AMERICA. XII. A. D. 1672. chap, from Holland and Germany, and particularly of persecuted Huguenots from France, destined to meet with a better welcome and a more lasting asylum than had been the lot of their unfortunate predecessors, led out by Bibaut, and put to death by the Spaniards. The latter indeed were not idle on this occasion, they threatened an attack from St. Augustine, and excited the In- dians to revolt ; a domestic insurrection also broke out ; but all these troubles were promptly suppressed by the governor. On constituting their new State, the " grand model " was found to be too elaborate to be carried out, and a provisional system was accordingly agreed upon, by which the government was shared by a council of ten, half of whom were elected by the proprietors, and half by the colonists, in connexion with twenty delegates chosen by the people. Thus had already a popular element grown up, which was soon found to be incompatible with the claims of the proprietaries ; and thus the subsequent career of the colony displays everywhere a scene of 'confusion and dissension, of which it is as difficult to trace the origin as it would be tedious to dwell upon the details, and in describing which we shall accordingly en- deavour to use the utmost brevity consistent with preserving the general thread of the narrative unbroken. Turning first to Albemarle or North Carolina, which had by this time made considerable progress, we find, as might have been anticipated, that the pro- mulgation of the " grand model " was received with the utmost disgust, and that bitter and acrimonious disputes arose between the agents of the proprie- taries and the people. After the death of Stevens, the governor, the assembly elected their speaker, Cartwright, to the vacant office, the limits of which being doubtful under the " grand model," he sailed for England, accompanied by the new speaker, Eastchurch, to submit the case to the proprietaries. Millar, a person of eminence in the colony, had been accused of sedition, but being acquitted, had also repaired to London with complaints, and his treatment being disapproved of, he was rewarded for his troubles with the office of se- cretary to the colony. Eastchurch being appointed governor, was, on his re- turn, delayed in the West Indies by a wealthy marriage ; while Millar pro- ceeded to execute his functions, and to enforce the obnoxious provisions of the navigation act, which pressed heavily upon the rising commerce of the planters. The public discontent broke out into an insurrection, headed by John Culpepper; Millar was imprisoned; a popular assembly established; and when Eastchurch appeared to assume his government, the people refused their submission. Confident in the justice of their cause, they sent Culpepper, who had been appointed by them collector of customs, to England, to obtain the consent of the proprietaries to the recent changes ; but Millar, having in the mean time made his escape, charged Culpepper as he, having effected his object, was about to embark, with " treason " for collecting the revenue with- out the authority of the king. Singularly enough, he was defended from this unjust charge by no other than Shaftesbury himself — then aiming at popu- larity, on the p„lL.ciple that the offence was not towards the crown, but the planters ; a plea so successfully urged, that Culpepper was acquitted by the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 143 jury. The proprietaries, finding it useless to attempt to carry out their vi- chap. sionary " model " by force, agreed to a compromise with the settlers, promised XII. an amnesty, and appointed a new governor, Seth Sothel, a man of sordid cha- to 1V.90. racter, who, during an administration of five years, pillaged both the proprie- taries and the colonists, until the latter at length arose, banished him for a twelvemonth, and compelled him finally to abjure the government, In South Carolina the progress of matters was hardly more satisfactory. Th'3 colonists were little disposed to submit to the authority of laws totally unsuited for their condition. Large demands were made upon the proprietors for supplies, while they looked in vain for returns from the settlers. Yea- mans, the governor, was accused by them of consulting his own private in- terests rather than those of his employers ; and he was accordingly superseded by West, as was West by a rapid succession of others no more fortunate than himself. Daring these fugitive administrations, the buccaneers, or pirates, ap- peared at Charleston to purchase provisions, and whether from fear or in- terest, the people, and even the governor himself, seemed to have connived at and even encouraged their visits. This dreaded body of freebooters had sprung up in the West India seas, where the Spaniards had once destroyed their haunts, but during the war with Spain they appeared anew, and obtained privateering commissions to harass the commerce and attack the cities of that country in America ; armed with which power they so increased their numbers by desperadoes from every clime, and entered upon such daring and successful enterprises, that their exploits inspired an admiration, with which, however, a feeling of terror was largely mingled. One of their leaders had been knighted by Charles II., and another created governor of Jamaica. But the horrible abuses of such a system of licensed outrage and plunder had sur- vived the occasion which led to its permission, and the peace with Spain had withdrawn from them the countenance of the English government, who now desired their suppression. The colonists, half dazzled by the ill-got gains which these rovers scattered so freely about them in exchange for provisions, half afraid of incurring their enmity, and regarding them, moreover, as their natural allies against the neighbouring Spaniards of St. Augustine, were but little anxious to observe the prohibitions of the proprietaries, who, finding at length that Governor Quarry was conniving at the proceedings of the pirates, dismissed him from his situation, and appointed Morton in his stead. Nor was this connivance at piracy the only indication of a loose code of morality among the settlers, connected with, or produced by, the system of slavery. They persisted in carrying on a border warfare with the Indians, and selling the captives in the West Indies, in spite of the remonstrances of the proprietors, who found the breach between themselves and the colonists becoming every year wider. In circumstances of such perplexity, placed between two parties, the one in favour of the absolute control of the proprietors, the other con- tending for a local and independent legislation, Governor Morton, unable to satisfy either, was shortly superseded by Colleton, under whose administration the dispute broke out into an open quarrel. In vain did he produce a copy A. D. 144 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of the "grand model," with its numerous titles and elaborate provisions, for - the acceptance of the assembly ; they insisted that they had only accepted that modification of it originally proposed to them, and drew up another body of laws in substitution. In vain did he attempt to enforce the payment of the quit-rents due to the proprietaries, and issue, as a last expedient, a proclama- tion of martial law. By a singular caprice of fortune, the fugitive Sothel, from Albemarle, suddenly appeared at Charleston, artfully assumed the leadership of the opposition, and was installed by them in the post of Colleton, who was in his turn deprived of his office, and ordered to depart the colony. But the popular candidate, thus lifted by a sudden caprice of the South Carolinians to a post from which he had been driven by those of the North, soon displayed the same characteristics of rapacity and dishonesty which had led to his ex- pulsion, and for the second time was disgraced and banished. He was suc- ceeded by Philip Ludwell, who carried to England the complaints of the Vir- ginians against the administration of Effingham, and was appointed by the proprietaries to the government of Carolina. Respected by the colonists, his administration opened with every appearance of promise ; but he soon found it impossible to enforce the laws against the pirates, or to obtain the passing of an act enfranchising the Huguenots, which, originally proposed by the as- sembly and rejected by the proprietors, was now, when brought forward by the proprietors, rejected by the assembly, and he speedily retired from so un- pleasant a post. Under his successor an important alteration took place. The proprietors passed a vote, " that as the people have declared they would ra- ther be governed by the powers granted by the charter, without regard to the fundamental constitutions, it will be for their quiet, and for the protection of the well-disposed, to grant their request ; " and thus the " unalterable " system of Locke, with its high-sounding titles of palatines, landgraves, and caciques came to an end, " And like the baseless fabric of a vision, Left not a wrack behind ; " a notable instance of the fallacy of even the wisest of constitution-makers, in seeking to build up an imposing edifice upon a foundation of sand, forgetting to adapt their elaborate provisions to the character and circumstances of those with whom they have to deal. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 145 CHAPTER XIII. AFFAIRS OF MASSACHUSETTS, FROM THE ACCESSION OF CHARLES II. TO THE DEPOSITION OF JAMES II. — DIFFICULTIES WITH THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT. — WAR WITH PHILIP OF POKA- NOKET. — ABROGATION OF THE CHARTER. — AFFAIRS OF THE OTHER COLONIES. The first news of the restoration of Charles II. were brought to Boston chap. - . . XIII. by the ships in which Whalley and Goffe, two of the regicides, fled for ~ their lives from the vengeance of the ministry ; and the fact that they were courteously received and sheltered, is sufficient to indicate the political bias of the people of Massachusetts, who, with their characteristic wariness, re- solved to await the progress of events before committing themselves to any open manifestation of adherence to the restored monarch. In a few weeks, more decided accounts were received of the confirmation of the king's power, and of the re-establishment of Episcopacy; and now, conscious that they must be regarded with suspicion on account of their sympathy with the re- publicans, and charged, by numerous enemies created by their intolerant policy, with a secret design of throwing off their allegiance to the crown, a general court was convened to decide upon the best measures for meeting the emergency. A deprecatory address, couched in Old Testament phraseology, humbly excusing themselves on the convenient ground of distance, for not having sooner sent in their congratulations ; earnestly entreating that their enemies might not be listened to, and that their rights and liberties might be maintained inviolate; was forwarded to the good-natured monarch, who returned to it a gracious reply. Further to parade their laggard loyalty, a treatise upon the Christian Commonwealth, originally drawn up by Eliot for his converted Indians, and incautiously published in England, was publicly con- demned by the court, as well as recanted by its author. Letters were written by influential friends, and the agent for the colony instructed to use every means to counteract the machinations of its enemies. . Foreseeing the character of the impending struggle, the Massachusetts leaders felt that they must trust, under Providence, mainly to their own de- termined energies. Their first measure was to draw up and publish a declar- ation of their rights. These were defined to be " the power to choose their own governor, deputy governor, magistrates, and representatives ; to prescribe terms for the admission of additional freemen ; to set up all sorts of officers, superior and inferior, with such powers and duties as they might appoint; to exercise, by their annually-elected magistrates and deputies, all authority, legis- lative, executive, and judicial ; to defend themselves by force of arms against every aggression ; and to reject any and every interposition which they might A. D. 1662. 146 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, judge prejudicial to the colony." Charles II. was at length proclaimed with punctilious formality, but all lively demonstrations of rejoicing on the part of his adherents were ingeniously forbidden, as if " by his own express authority." In fact, besides its enemies in England, the ruling party in Massachusetts had to contend against others no less active at home. The liberal party, con- sisting of Episcopalians, Baptists, and others, who were excluded from a share in the government, had largely increased, and, encouraged by the posture of affairs, loudly demanded a relaxation of the unjust restrictions under which they laboured. Even among the theocratic freemen themselves there was a division of opinion. The greater part remained stanch to their original prin- ciples, but many finding them too rigorous, a ' ( half-way covenant " had been adopted, by which those who strictly conformed to the established worship, but without professing themselves regenerate and elect, were admitted to the civil prerogatives of church membership. There were also many who deemed it the wisest policy to bend to necessity, and not to risk the loss of every thing by refusing to make reasonable and timely concessions. But the majority sternly resolved to maintain their independence of English supre- macy, whatever might be the issue. To avert, however, if possible the neces- sity of a recourse to armed resistance, Norton and Bradstreet, two confidential envoys, were sent over to attempt, if possible, to amuse the English ministry, but they were at the same time instructed to deprecate its interference, or, if it came to the worst, openly to disclaim its authority. Such a mission was justly regarded as rather hazardous. A very short period had sufficed to develope the arbitrary tendencies of the English government. Weary of the anarchy of the last days of the republic, all classes had eagerly united in welcoming the restoration of the monarchy — conditions were never thought of; the time required to make them would have been a dangerous, and perhaps a fatal delay. In the momentary gratitude oc- casioned by his sudden restoration, Charles had promised every thing, but his promises were as soon forgotten. There was besides a general reaction against all parties concerned in bringing about the late revolution, which tended to fortify the prerogative of the monarch and to abet the arbitrary pro- ceedings of his councillors. The Church of England was again in the ascend- ant, the Act of Uniformity had been passed, Presbyterians and Independents were crushed by severe enactments, and exposed at once to the persecution of the ministry as well as the dislike of the people. The royalist party had to the utmost gratified their thirst for revenge. Such of the regicides as could be taken were hung, drawn, and quartered — among them Hugh Peters, father-in-law of the younger Winthrop, and formerly minister of Salem. A more illustrious victim, Sir Henry Vane, was soon after conducted to the block. Though opposed to the intolerance of the Massachusetts theocracy, he had ever been a firm friend to New England, and his influence had procured a charter for Rhode Island from the Long Parliament. When charged with treason he was " not afraid to bear his witness to the glorious cause" of popular liberty, A. D. 1062. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 147 nor to " seal it with his blood," and his calm and heroic conduct on the chap scaffold won the admiration even of his enemies. Such was the unpropitious aspect of affairs when the agents of Massachusetts arrived in England charged with their important but perilous commission. With all their tact and in- fluence, they were but very partially successful in their object. The confirm- ation of the charter was conceded, together with a conditional amnesty for all recent offences; but the king firmly insisted upon the maintenance of his prerogative, he demanded the repeal of all laws derogatory to his authority, the imposition of an oath of allegiance, and the administration of justice in his own name. He also required complete toleration for the Church of England, and the repeal of the law confining the privilege of voting to church members alone, admission of Episcopalians to the sacrament, with the concession of the franchise to every inhabitant possessing a certain amount of property. In one respect, and one alone, did he respond cor- dially to the wishes of the Massachusetts council, they were freely allowed to enact the most stringent provisions against the pertinacious intrusion of the Quakers. Meanwhile the people of Connecticut, having rapidly increased their set- tlements and purchased a considerable tract from the Indians, became desirous of consolidating their territory and fixing their institutions by means of a royal patent. They were singularly fortunate both in the timing of their petition and in the character of their agent. Winthrop the younger was a man of high standing and influence, whose naturally fine qualities had been culti- vated by education and travel ; a lover of literature and science, his enlarged and humane mind rose superior to narrow sectarianism, and advocated an impartial toleration ; and while his character was unblemished and his morals pure, he displayed none of that sanctimonious moroseness that characterized so many of the Puritans, but could move with unembarrassed dignity and ease amidst the meretricious splendour of the courtiers — " amongst them, but not of them." His grandfather had received from Charles I. a ring in token of services rendered to that monarch; this, on his audience with the king, he is said to have produced, and with effect ; he had also the good fortune to obtain the personal favour of the good-natured monarch, and the good will of the minister Clarendon, and other influential courtiers. He was thus en- abled to return with a patent as ample in territorial concessions, as it was hitherto unexampled for the power of self-government which it conceded, for the grant extended from the shores of the Narragansett to those of the Pacific, including the State of New Haven, which held back for a while its consent to the Union, till the apprehension of being placed under the jurisdiction of the English commissioners, and of obtaining less favourable terms, induced them at length to consent. The charter allowed the colonists to choose their own governor and officers, and to exercise legislative and judicial authority on the sole condition of an approximation to the laws of England, and without any reservation of interference by the English government. Clarke too, .;ho had been left as agent by Roger Williams, was, through u 2 C H A P. XIII. A. D. 1663. 148 HISTORY OF AMERICA. the favour of Clarendon, equally fortunate, in obtaining the ratification of the charter for Rhode Island. How this little State was originated and increased by refugees from the intolerance of Massachusetts has been already described. Freedom of conscience, and liberty of discussion, had only, upon further ex- periment, become more dear to its citizens ; they had been exempted from the theological disputes and bloody persecutions that had disgraced Massa- chusetts, and in their petition to Charles II. they declare " how much it is in their hearts to hold forth a lively experiment, that a most flourishing civil state may stand, and best be maintained, with a full liberty of religious con- cernments." The general terms of the charter differed but little from that of Connecticut, but it contained the especial provision, that " no person within the said colony shall be molested, punished, disquieted, or called in question, for any differences of opinion in matters of religion, who does not actually disturb the civil peace ; but that all persons may, at all times, freely enjoy their own consciences in matters of religious concernment, provided they be- haved themselves peaceably and quietly, and did not abuse their liberty to licentiousness and profaneness, nor to the civil injury of others." The arrival of the charter under the broad seal of England created the greatest enthu- siasm ; a public meeting was convened for its exhibition, and a vote of thanks passed to the monarch and his minister, by and through whom it had been granted, as well as to the disinterested and indefatigable agent who had pro- cured it. Whilst Connecticut and Rhode Island were thus rejoicing in their newly established privileges, the leaders of Massachusetts were sullenly preparing to defend those they had long enjoyed against the threatened interference of the English ministry. Among the concessions demanded by the king, those of an increase of the franchise, and the toleration of Episcopalians, were in themselves both just and desirable, but they were hardly less repugnant to the self-constituted theocracy than was the assertion of parliamentary control; and the more so, as they were designed to favour that party which advocated and desired it Their answer to the royal requisitions was accordingly couched in respectful but evasive language. " For the repealing of all laws here established since the late changes contrary and derogatory to his Ma- jesty's authority, we, having considered thereof, are not conscious to any of that tendency ; concerning the oath of allegiance, we are ready to attend to it as formerly, according to the charter ; concerning liberty to use the Common Prayer Book, none as yet among us have appeared to desire it; touching ad- ministration of the sacraments, this matter hath been under consideration of a synod, orderly called, the result whereof our last general court commended to the several congregations, and we hope will have a tendency to general sa- tisfaction." Such a reply, it may be well conceived, gave but little satisfac- tion to the English ministry : and as fresh complaints against the government of Massachusetts continued to pour in, the king declared his intention of pre- sently sending out commissioners, armed with authority to inquire into and decide upon the matters in dispute. A.D. 1CJ4. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 149 This menace produced a wide-spread feeling of excitement and alarm. A c "* p - general fast was proclaimed to invoke the forgiveness and implore the protec- tion of God, in whose name and for whose glory the commonwealth had been built up. Every possible precaution was immediately taken, the charter was intrusted to a committee of four for concealment and safe keeping, and, to prevent surprise, none but small bodies of soldiers were allowed to be landed. Filled with enthusiasm, yet calm and wary — determined, if possible, to weary out the enemy by passive resistance, but prepared, if needful, to contend unto the death, the council of Massachusetts awaited with anxiety the arrival of the commissioners from England. The situation of the dispute with the English government had become more critical from its being complicated with difficulties arising out of the acts re- lating to trade. These had originated in the reign of Charles L, were asserted though not enforced by the Long Parliament, and had been revived with still more stringent conditions by that of Charles II. The act of 1651 forbade any importations into England unless by ships built in or owned by inhabitants of either the mother country or her colonies. This had been enacted princi- pally to protect the English shipowners against the rivalry of the Dutch, and though it was not seriously objected to by the colonists, had in reality been thought to be injurious to their interests, and had consequently been evaded. But the act of 1663 required that articles of American production should be sent only to the English market, which was followed up by another forbidding the importation of European commodities into the colonies except in English- built ships. Thus by this double monopoly were the Massachusetts merchant- men constrained both to sell their own commodities at the cheapest, and to buy those of foreign countries at the dearest rate. Even the intercolonial trade was hampered by a duty to be levied at the port of shipment. These restrictions were prompted chiefly by the cupidity of the English merchants, who were jealous of the rapidly increasing commerce of Massachusetts, which, from the energetic character of the people, had become the staple of North America, and by the desire to divert into their own coffers the profits arising out of it. The authority of these laws had never been recognised, and the colonists had protested against them ; it is not surprising, therefore, that they should have been frequently evaded, if not entirely disregarded. Loud complaints, full of artful exaggeration, were accordingly made by the English merchants and manufacturers. It was alleged, that " the inhabitants of New England not only traded to most ports of Europe, but encouraged foreigners to go and traffic with them ; " that " they supplied the other plantations with those fo- reign productions which ought only to be sent to England ; " that " having thus made New England the staple of the colonies, the navigation of the kingdom is greatly prejudiced, the national revenues impaired, the people extremely impoverished ; " and that " such abuses, at the same time that they will entirely destroy the trade of England, will leave no sort of dependence towards her on the part of the colonies." The remedy suggested was to establish a royal custom-house, with offices to receive the duties, enforce the 150 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c it a p. provisions of the act, and, should they be contumaciously resisted by Massa- chusetts, to refuse Mediterranean passes to her ships, so as to expose them to ' capture by the Barbary corsairs, while at the same time offenders were to be transmitted to England for trial. This suggestion they followed up by a re- commendation to his Majesty to appoint a governor ; nor was it long before a commissioner was sent over, authorized to administer to the New England governors an oath that they would enforce the provisions of the navigation act. They refused to acquiesce, and came to the memorable decision, upon which the whole dispute with England afterwards turned, that " not being repre- sented in the English parliament, the acts of navigation, passed by that body, were an invasion of their rights and privileges." But having thus saved the vital question of principle, they gave validity to the acts by the exercise of their oivn authority, and appointed a custom-house to receive the duties. The dreaded armament made its appearance at Boston about the close of July, consisting, in fact, of the vessels sent out to take possession of New Netherlands for the Duke of York ; and having on board the commissioners appointed to examine into the alleged grievances, and redress them " according to the royal power, and their own discretion." Their first demand was for a body of soldiers to accompany the expedition, who, however, were so long in being raised, that the ships at length departed without them. Meanwhile the court at Boston was occupied in making a trifling concession as regards the franchise, to disarm their more active opponents, and in draw- ing up a solemn protest against the authority of the commissioners. In this document they remind the king that, " under a patent granting to them full and absolute power of self-government, and of electing their own magistrates, they, had for more than thirty years enjoyed this 'fundamental privi- lege,' without dispute ; that a commission under the great seal, of four per- sons, (one their avowed enemy,) to receive and determine complaints at their discretion, subjects them to the arbitrary power of strangers, and will be the subversion of their all." They declare that " if these things go on, they will be either forced to seek new dwellings, or sink under intolerable burdens ; that the king will be a loser of the wonted benefit by customs, and this hope- ful plantation in the end be ruined. That it is a great unhappiness to have no testimony of their loyalty offered but this, to yield up their liberties, which are far dearer than their lives, and which they have willingly ventured their lives, and passed through many deaths, to obtain." Finally, in their accus- tomed phraseology, they remind the monarch " that it was Job's excellency when he sat as king among his people, that he was ' a father to the poor/ and that they, ( a poor people,' cry unto their lord the king." This character- istic appeal being despatched, they resolutely proceeded to carry its principle into practice by issuing an order to forbid any complaints to the commissioners, or any exercise of their assumed authority. By this time, the latter, having touched at Connecticut, where, as their functions were more welcome and useful, they had been received with greater consideration, returned to Boston with a firm determination to carry out the royal mission. H - pn m of rw*. VNIVERSITY HISTORY OF AMERICA. 151 Their first proceeding, however harmless, was not calculated to undermine c ™ J *f- the dogged resolution of the fathers of the theocracy. The commissioners, — — — themselves Episcopalians, and armed with the royal authority in favour of toleration, set up and attended the service of the Anglican Church. Each party thus predisposed to regard the other with dislike, all accommodation was of course impossible. The magistrates and ministers, inflexible in resolution, animated the people by prayer-meetings, and exhortations to stand firm for the heritage given them by God. They felt themselves besides the stronger party, and the commissioners, unsupported as they were by any adequate force, soon found the exercise of their functions to be impracticable, and even ridicu- lous. They made a temporary visit to Plymouth and Rhode Island, where they settled disputed boundaries, and made offers of fresh charters, which, however, were respectfully declined. This contumacy of the authorities at Boston, of which accounts had been transmitted to the English ministry, appeared to them both groundless and unreasonable. They did not consider themselves to be invading the liberties of Massachusetts, nor had their agents attempted any act that in their judg- ment could be thus construed. To them the assertion of the king's preroga- tive and the supreme power of parliament was tacitly involved, if not openly expressed, in all charters granted to colonists. The truth seems to be that this matter was not very clearly defined, and was interpreted by each party in ac- cordance with its own particular views. With Massachusetts it was a ques- tion of principle, although mingled with a feeling of bigotry and intolerance. They had denied to Charles I., and to the parliament, the right to entertain appeals against their local legislation, and the same right they still continued to deny, since their charter, while it gave them unlimited powers of self-govern- ment, made no express provision of the kind. Upon this they accordingly took their stand, and the matter at length came to an issue. The commissioners opened a court to audit complaints against the magistrates ; — they refused to admit its authority. The morning arrived, the plaintiffs appeared, when the magistrates adopted a method of nullifying the proceedings, which curiously recalled the mode of resistance practised by the parliament towards Charles I. They boldly sent forth a herald to proclaim with sound of trumpet, in the name of God and the king, that no one might abet his Majesty'* honourable commissioners in the exercise of their illegal authority. Baffled and pro- voked by the cool audacity of the court, the commissioners declared " that they would lose no more of their labours upon them, but would represent their conduct to his Majesty," and, for the second time, retreated from the un- welcome contest, to settle the affairs of New Hampshire and of Maine. Thither, however, they were followed by the indefatigable court, who forbade the people of New Hampshire to recognise their authority. In Maine they were at first more successful, many appeared disposed to welcome their inter- ference, and they attempted to settle claims and exercise jurisdiction, but as soon as their backs were turned, the Massachusetts magistrates entered the province and promptly put down the disaffected by force of arms. On their return to 152 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. Boston, fresh vexations and indignities were in store for the unlucky com- _ — — missioners. They were accustomed, to quote the amusing version of Hildreth, IJ ' " to hold of Saturday nights a social party at a tavern in Ann Street, kept by one Robert Vyal, vintner. This was contrary to the law, which required the strict observance of Saturday night as a part of the Lord's day. A constable went to break them up, but was beaten and driven off by Sir Robert Carr and his servant. Mason, another constable, bolder and more zealous, imme- diately proceeded to VyaPs tavern ; but meanwhile the party had adjourned to the house of a merchant over the way. Mason went in, staff in hand, and reproached them, king's officers as they were, who ought to set a better ex- ample, for being so uncivil as to beat a constable ; telling them that it was well they had changed their quarters, as otherwise he should have arrested them all. * What,' said Carr, ' arrest the king's commissioners ! ' f Yes,' an- swered Mason, ' the king himself, had he been there.' ' Treason ! treason!' shouted Maverick ; ' knave, thou shalt presently hang for this ! ' and he called on the company to take notice of the words." " The next day Maverick sent a letter to the governor, accusing the consta- ble of treason. The governor also sent a polite note to Carr, informing him of a complaint for assault and battery lodged against him by the constable he had beaten. What was done in that case does not appear ; but Mason, being bound over to the next court, the grand jury found a bill against him. Ma- verick, however, declined to prosecute, declaring his belief that the man had spoken inconsiderately, intending no harm. The magistrates thought the matter too serious to be dropped in that way. They did not choose to expose themselves to the charge of winking at treason. The matter finally came be- fore the general court, where Mason was acquitted of the most serious charge, but was fined for insolence and indiscretion, principally, no doubt, through apprehension, lest some handle might be made of the matter by the commis- sioners." The commissioners, being recalled, soon afterwards returned to England, where their reports elicited an order upon Massachusetts to send over Bel- lingham, the governor, and a few others, to answer, for their defiance of his Majesty's authority, a summons which created no small excitement. Many thought that the magistrates had carried matters with too high a hand, and sent in petitions for their compliance. The court was convened ; and after several hours spent in prayer, the matter was warmly debated — some con- tending that the king's authority was paramount ; while others maintained that it could not be admitted without the loss of their liberties, which would then be at the mercy of the English court. The arguments of the latter party pre- vailed ; and it was determined to evade his Majesty's demand, but, if possible, at the same time to conciliate his favour. War had lately broken out between France and England ; and Charles had suggested to Massachusetts the con- quest of Canada. From this project they excused themselves, on the ground of distance ; quietly evaded the summons to England, with the most profuse expressions of loyalty, and softened their refusal by sending a supply of pro- A. D. 1674. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 153 visions for the fleet in the West Indies, with a present of masts for the English chap navy, which, through the neglect and wastefulness of the government, had fallen into a miserable plight. By these tactics they hoped for the present to avert the royal indignation, and circumstances were happily in their favour ; for though the English government was indeed becoming more despotic, and would willingly have punished the contumacy of the Puritans, the corruption of the court paralysed its active energies, while the firm and formidable atti- tude of the colonists imposed respect, and, after a few abortive resolutions, Massachusetts was forgotten amidst the dissipations of the palace, and the more exciting affairs that absorbed the attention of the king and ministry. Scarcely had the colony recovered from this alarm, when it was involved in another and far more formidable peril. With the exception of the Pequods, whose extermination has been already described, the Indian tribes in the New England territory remained undiminished in numbers, though greatly altered in position, and in the feelings with which they regarded the growing en- croachments of the colonists. Many, indeed, under the benevolent exertions of Eliot and his confederates, had been reclaimed from the wild faith of their forefathers, and formed into little communities of so-called " praying Indians " scattered amongst the settlements of their Christian benefactors ; while other small tribes, looking up with awe to the white men, and acquiring a taste for their habits, remained in peaceful and contented dependence upon them. Not so, however, with the Wampanoags or Pokanokets, and their sachem, Philip. His father, Massasoit, has been honourably distinguished for his assistance of the Plymouth settlers in their day of distress, but while he had favoured the white men, he had looked with suspicion upon their attempts to convert his people from their ancient faith, and had endeavoured, but in vain, to obtain from them a promise that such attempts should cease. Since the days when the Pilgrims landed upon the rock of Plymouth, the Indians had been gradually, but con- stantly losing ground. With the thoughtless haste of savages, they had bartered their lands for the first trifle that had attracted their childish cupidity ; in- capable of foresight, they looked not to the hour when, by increasing numbers, their forests should be replaced with fields and houses, until, upon the faith of their own treaties, they should be pushed from the old hunting-grounds of their fathers. Above all, they little dreamed that their lordship of the forest, their free movements, and their ancient customs, should be curtailed and abridged, that they should find themselves feudal vassals where they were before independent sovereigns, and accustomed to a jurisdiction of others, when traditionary practice had so long sufficed them, — These bitter vexations festered in the proud bosom of Philip of Pokanoket, yet he was too well ac- quainted with the formidable power of the colonists to form any deliberate conspiracy against them ; but, as in the Pequod war, circumstances trifling in themselves, like a sudden spark lighting upon a prepared train, kindled the fierce passions that lay suppressed within, and hurried him into a hasty act of revenge, by which the whole of the colonists and Indians were involved in a bloody and desolating struggle. 154 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1675. °xni P * Philip had been before suspected, though it would appear without reason, of a design against the English, and had been compelled by the people of Plymouth to deliver up his fire-arms, to pay a tribute, and acknowledge his submission to the colony. Not improbably he might have given vent to his disgust in vague and passionate threats against the settlers; at all events he was accused by an Indian informer of having formed a conspiracy to de- stroy them. This informer was waylaid and murdered by some of Philip's adherents, who, being taken, were put upon their trial by a half English, half Indian jury, and hanged. Philip hastily retaliated by plundering the near- est settlements, while his people, it is said, to his great regret, murdered several of the inhabitants. Thus committed by an act of hasty passion into open defiance of the English, his pride forbade him to recede, and he found himself embarked in a desperate and hopeless struggle against a superior power. A body of troops from Plymouth and Massachusetts immediately hastened to Mount Hope to punish the aggressions of Philip, but found that he had fled with his Indians, leaving behind him the burned dwellings and mangled bodies of his unhappy victims. The colonists, unable to effect their principal object, sent to the Narragansetts to demand assurance of peace, and the delivery of fugitives. Forced into a reluctant consent, this powerful tribe was for the present compelled to remain passive. In the mean time news came that the fugitive chief had posted himself in a swamp at Pocasset — a body of soldiers repaired thither and surrounded the place to prevent hi$ 'scape, but soon experienced the harassing perils of an Indian war. Entan^ied in the morass, and fired upon by lurking enemies, whom thvy were unable to discover, they were compelled to retreat with the loss of sixteen of their number, while Philip, breaking through the toils of his pursuers, escaped to the territory of the Kip- mucks, who had already taken up arms. Passions long pent up in the breasts of the Indians now suddenly broke forth ; which Philip, running from tribe to tribe, inflamed by an appeal to their common grievances and fears, and in a short time, not one of the exposed out- settlements on the Connecticut was secure. Panic prevailed throughout the colony. Dismal portents of still heavier calamities were fancied in the air and sky ; shadowy troops of careering horses, Indian scalps, and bows imprinted upon the sun and moon, even the sigh of the wind through the forest, and the dismal howling of wolves, terrified the ex- cited imagination of the colonists. The out-settlers fled for security to the the towns, where they spread abroad fearful accounts of the cruel atrocities of the Indians. Nothing but the sins of the community, it was believed, could have brought upon them this alarming visitation, the most innocent amuse- ments appeared in a heinous light, and the magistrates and clergy earnestly commenced tightening those bonds of discipline which of late had been so alarmingly relaxed. Meanwhile the war spread along the whole exposed frontier of Connecticut, Massachusetts, and even of New Hampshire. To form any adequate concep- tion of its horrors, we must previously form to ourselves a correct idea of its HISTORY OF AMERICA. 155 theatre. Except in the vicinity of the larger towns, the whole country was chap. still overspread with a dense forest, the few villages were almost isolated, being 1_ connected only by long miles of blind pathway through the tangled woods; toi*67«. and helpless indeed was the position of that solitary settler who had erected his rude hut in the midst of a profound wilderness, and could see no farther around him than the acre or two of ground which he had cleared in the im- pervious forest. On the other hand, every brake and lurking-place was inti- mately known to the Indians, and the most watchful suspicion could not foretell the moment of their sudden onslaught. A circumstance which added fearfully to the peril was, that they had gradually come to obtain possession of fire-arms, thus adding modes of destruction which had been taught them by the white man to those with which they were already familiar. The farmer, if he ventured forth to till the fields, was picked off by some lurking assassin, while the main body of marauders would burst upon his defenceless dwelling, and scalp the helpless infant in the presence of its frenzied mother, or consume them in the flames of their own homestead. Unable to cultivate the fields, the settlers were exposed to famine, while the convoys of provisions sent to their assistance were waylaid and seized, and their escort cut off in ambush. Such was the fate of the brave Lathrop, at the spot which still retains the name of " Bloody Brook." The cavalcade proceeding to church, the marriage pro- cession, if marriage could be thought of in those frightful days, was often interrupted by the sudden death-shot from some invisible enemy. On one occasion, at Hadley, while the people were engaged in Divine service, the Indians burst in upon the village, panic and confusion were at their height, when suddenly there appeared a man of very venerable aspect, who rallied the ter- rified inhabitants, formed them into military order, led them to the attack, routed the Indians, saved the village, and then disappeared as marvellously as he had come upon the scene. The excited and grateful inhabitants, unable to discover any trace of their preserver, supposed him to be an angel sent from God. It was no angel, but one of Cromwell's generals, old Gone the regicide, who, compelled by the vigilant search made after him by order of the Eng- lish government, to fly from place to place, had espied from an elevated cavern in the neighbourhood the murderous approach of the savages, and hurried down to effect the deliverance of his countrymen. During the leafy summer the Indians, enabled to conceal themselves in every thicket, carried on this harassing warfare to the great disadvantage of the English, who sought in vain to grapple with a foe that, after spreading death and devastation on all sides, vanished into the impenetrable recesses of the woods. But the winter was come, the forests were more open, and a large body of a thousand men having been raised by the united efforts of Plymouth, Connecticut, and Massachusetts, it was determined to strike a decisive blow. The Narragansetts had given shelter to the enemies of the colony, with whom it was resolved to anticipate their junction. After a long march through the snow, and a night spent in the woods, the soldiers approached the strong- hold of the tribe, planted in the midst of a morass accessible only by a x 2 A. D. 1G76, 156 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, narrow and fortified pathway, and crowded with armed Indians. The leaders were all shot down as they advanced to the charge ; but this only excited to the highest pitch the desperate determination of the English, who, after having once forced an entrance, and being again repulsed after a fierce struggle protracted for two hours, burst infuriated into the Indian fort. Revenge for the blood of their murdered brethren was alone thought of; mercy was im- plored in vain ; the fort was fired, and hundreds of Indian wives and children perished in the midst of the conflagration ; while their provisions gathered to- gether for the long winter being consumed, and their wigwams burned, those who escaped from fire and sword wandered miserably through the forests to perish with cold and hunger. The losses of the English had been severe, but they were capable of being repaired ; those of the Indians were irreparable. Their stores destroyed, their villages burned, and unable to cultivate their lands to obtain a fresh supply, they collected all their energies for one last despairing struggle. Permanently to resist the power of their enemies was hopeless, but they might inflict upon them a fearful amount of suffering. Accordingly they fell every where with fresh fury upon the exposed towns, and even approached within twenty miles of Boston itself. They had threatened, in the insanity of their hatred, to carry on the war for many years. But their strength was rapidly exhausting itself; stronghold after stronghold fell before the settlers, and by the approach of the ensuing autumn the Indians were completely broken, and began to fade away from the presence of their exterminating foe. The Indian leaders, amidst all the disasters of their followers, preserved an inflexible courage. Canonchet, the chief of the Narragansetts, being taken, was offered his life if he would consent to negociate a peace. He firmly re- fused, and suffered death with stoic resolution. The unhappy Philip, the author of the war, had foreseen its fatal termination for his own race. Wan- dering from tribe to tribe, assailed by recriminations and reproaches for the misery he had brought upon his brethren, his heart was full of the bitterest anguish. Compelled at length to return to his old haunts, where he was yet sustained by Witamo, a female chief and relative, he was presently attacked by the English, who carried off his wife and child as captives ; a loss which filled up the measure of his sufferings, and it was perhaps a merciful release when, shortly after, he was treacherously shot by one of his own adherents who deserted to the English. Thus perished Philip of Pokanoket, who, possessed as he was of all the nobler qualities of the Indian chieftain, was worthy of a better fate. His child, the last of the princes of his tribe, was sold into slavery at Bermuda. Meanwhile the agents who had been sent to England returned, and the ex- treme terms which they were instructed to demand sufficiently indicated the king's intention of subverting the spirit of the charter, or, in default of the consent of the colonists, to cancel it. Church-membership was no longer to be the exclusive condition of the freedom of the colony ; a property qualifica- tion was to be substituted, an innovation justly deemed no less than vital. A. D. 1679. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 157 Randolph followed soon after with his commission, which was very contemptu- chap ously ignored by the magistrates, who ordered the proclamation of his ap- pointment to be torn down. His pertinacious endeavours to carry out his appointment were all in vain, and he went home to England to complain of the contumacy of the colonists, and to return with an order for them to send over two agents empowered to negociate a modification of the charter — a de- licate mission at a very critical period. The arbitrary power of the English government had reached its height, and the complaints of the English mer- chants, and of disaffected persons in the colony itself, afforded a plausible pre- text for its interference. Principle forbade the fathers of the theocracy to flinch, but policy imperiously demanded of them to bend. The agents were sent over, but their powers of treating with the government were most care- fully restricted ; they were to make no concessions vital to the liberties of the commonwealth, but were to use every artifice, and even to condescend to bribery, then universal at the English court, could they but succeed in mi- tigating the hardness of the ministerial demands. All their attempts were unavailing ; the ministry would not accept the offered concessions ; the agents were compelled to go back, and Randolph returned in triumph to Boston with a writ of " quo warranto," accompanied by a promise of the royal favour pro- vided the charter was peaceably surrendered by the colonists. Every attempt to avert the catastrophe had been made, and further resist- ance was hopeless. The English cities, even London itself, had been disfran- chised ; the liberties of the mother country lay utterly prostrate. The governor and magistrates were inclined to submission, and proposed to send agents "to receive his Majesty's commands." The question proposed to the deputies was warmly debated by them, and agitated the entire community. The religious party recalled the fundamental principle upon which the colony had been founded, and under which it had grown up to its actual state of prosperity. This being to establish a commonwealth for God, to be governed exclusively by his people and for his glory, it was obvious that to surrender it into the hands of unregenerated men — to divorce the civil and religious power — would strike at the very foundation of their Zion, break down the wall of partition between the church and the world, and open their beloved institutions and habits to the inroads of profanity, heresy, and vice. " Their fathers had not bowed the neck to arbitrary tyranny, neither would they betray the sacred cause of Christ, and the civil liberties of their children. They might suffer, but not sin ; their liberties might be wrested from them — they would not surrender them. Submission would be contrary to the unanimous ad- vice of the ministers given after a solemn day of prayer. The ministers of God in New England had more of the spirit of John the Baptist than now, when a storm hath overtaken them, to be reeds shaken with the wind. The priests were to be the first that should set their foot in the waters, and there to stand till the danger be past." With arguments at once thus noble in spirit, but faulty in philosophy, did the pious fathers of the theocracy animate the minds of the freemen, who, after a fortnight's discussion, rejected the 158 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, royal mandate, earnestly beseeching, but in vain, the gracious forbearance of his Majesty. A scire facias was issued in England, the charter declared 8S ' to be forfeited ; and thus the rights and liberties of Massachusetts, so long and so dearly cherished, lay at the mercy of the English monarch, who was known to meditate the most serious and fundamental innovations, but who died before any of them could be carried into effect. The reign of the last of the Stuarts, no less in America than in England, was a period of arbitrary and illegal encroachment. Scarcely was James II. enabled to turn his attention to the affairs of the American colonies, than he proceeded to carry out his long-cherished design of uniting them under the administration of 2. governor-general, who should be a passive instrument in the hands of despotism, and to enforce upon the unwilling theocracy of Mas- sachusetts th. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 189 of the castle of Quebec. Read your message, said the old Frenchman, chap. Having obeyed, the Englishman laid his watch on the table with these words — " It is now ten : I await your answer for an hour." The council started from their seats in wrath, while the old nobleman, scarcely able to speak for the indignation that choked him, replied, I do not acknowledge King William, and I well know that the Prince of Orange is an usurper, who has violated the more sacred rights of blood and religion. — The British officer requested that this answer should be put in writing. — " I will answer your master at the can- non's mouth," replied the irritated Frenchman, " that he may learn that a man of my rank is not to be summoned in this manner." The veteran commandant proved as good as his word, and gallantly repulsed the repeated and daring- attacks of Phipps, who was at length compelled to retire with shame and dis- appointment ; and after losing several of his ships among the dangerous shoals of the St. Lawrence, arrived at Boston with his damaged fleet. On his arrival the treasury was empty, and as the troops threatened a riot, the colonial govern- ment found it necessary to meet the emergency by issuing the first paper money ever used in America. Frontenac wrote home to France in triumph, and to commemorate his brave defence of Canada, the king ordered a medal to be struck with this inscription : " Francia in novo orbe victrix : Kebeca Liberata. — A. D. m.d.c.x.c," while a church was built in the lower town, and dedicated to " Notre Dame de la Victoire." Shortly after, a French fleet retook Port Royal, and thus regained possession of Acadia. While the New England colonies were involved in this desolating struggle, they were at the same time convulsed with internal miseries. The belief in witchcraft was at that time almost universal in England, and is by no means extinct there even in the present day, as any one knows who has penetrated the remoter nooks and corners of the island, into which the progress of edu- cation is slow to make its way. This infernal art was rendered a capital offence, particularly by a statute of James I., who had himself written a treatise on the art of detecting witches. During the Long Parliament a vast number of per- sons fell victims to the popular ctelusion. Shortly after the restoration Sir Matthew Hale, revered no less in the colonies than the mother country for piety and wisdom, had adjudged to death two poor old women in Suffolk, for this imaginary crime. Witch stories and printed narratives were universally current. It cannot excite surprise then that a people like that of New Eng- land, whose temperament was naturally serious, to whom every incident of life was a special providence, and who were filled with an undoubting faith in every letter of Scripture, should have been predisposed to enter deeply into so congenial an illusion. For some years previously instances of supposed witchcraft had occurred, and one or two persons had been executed. For nearly thirty years, however, no one had suffered death, when in 1685 the excitement was suddenly re- vived by a very circumstantial account of all the previous cases. In 1687, four of the children of John Goodwin, a grave man and a good liver, to the great consternation of the neighbourhood, became suddenly bewitched. The A. D. 1688. 190 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ch^ap. eldest had accused a laundress of stealing the family linen ; her mother, a wild Irishwoman, resented the accusation; and thereupon the girl with her sisters fell into fits, purred like cats, affected to be deaf and blind, made strange contortions, and uttered fearful screams. Whether the imagination of these children had been affected by hearing of diabolical possession, or whether they were guilty of a wilful fraud, has been disputed ; we are inclined to lean to the former supposition. Cotton Mather, one of the leading ministers, a learned and good man, but of fanatical temperament, a narrow understanding, and immeasurable vanity, went to prayer with others of his brethren by their side, when they became deaf and blind, and unable to read the Assembly's Cate- chism and Cotton's Milk for Babes, but could read the Oxford Jests, popish and quaker books, and the Common Prayer, without difficulty. By the strenuous efforts of the clergymen, the youngest child was at length delivered, but the rest persevering in their delusion or hypocrisy, the old Irishwoman was appre- hended on the charge of bewitching them. Terrified and bewildered, the poor creature gave such incoherent replies that many deemed her " crazed in her intellectuals," yet as the physicians declared her to be " compos mentis," she was speedily condemned and executed. Cotton Mather now took home the eldest girl to his house, where she continued to exhibit the same extraordinary phenomena, which the credulous minister set himself seriously to study, and then put forth a sermon and narrative under the title of " Memorable Provi- dences relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions." The times, in his idea, were evil, and there was a tendency in many minds to recoil from the ultra rigour of faith and practice into the opposite extreme. " There are multitudes of Sadducees," complains the preface, "in our days, and we shall come, in the opinion of these mighty acute philosophers, to credit nothing but what we can see and feel. How much this fond opinion hath gotten ground in this, debauched age is awfully ob- servable. God is therefore pleased, besides his witness borne to this truth in sacred writ, to suffer devils to do such things in the world, as shall stop the mouths of gainsayers and extort a confession from them." And as Mather came forward to throw down the gauntlet to the sceptics, not only as a minister of God, but also an eye-witness of the facts narrated, he declared that he should henceforth consider the " denial of devils, or of witches," as proofs of " ignor- ance, incivility, and dishonest impudence" in any who should be so hardy as to venture it. The bewitched girls at length became restored, and made a public profes- sion of religion on the ground of the trials they had endured ; and we are assured by Hutchinson, who knew one of them many years afterwards, that she never uttered any acknowledgment of fraud in the transaction. Cotton's book made a great noise, being reprinted in England, with a preface by Richard Baxter, who affirmed that " the evidence was so convincing, he must be a very obstinate Sadducee who would not believe it." Thus a popular infatuation, which might have died away of itself, was, by the fanatical zeal of the ministers, kept alive, and ultimately inflamed to a fearful pitch. Four years after, a similar scene was renewed in the family of Parris, the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 191 minister of Salem, whose church, as it seems, was at the time rent by bitter c ha p. disputes. Some of his children exhibited the same symptoms ; and Tituba, an A D ,. t9 old Indian servant, who had used some superstitious rites to discover the witch, was herself accused by the children, and being well scourged by her master, confessed herself the guilty agent. A fast day was appointed by the neigh- bouring ministers, among whom appeared Cotton Mather, glorying in the con- firmation of his previous statements. The excitement rapidly spread — the girls accused others — the ministers implicitly received their statements. The divisions among the people, if indeed they did not prompt to accusations wilfully false, at least facilitated the belief of them. Parris selected for his Sunday's text the words, " Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil?" At this a sister of Sarah Cloyce, one of the accused, being of- fended, rose up and left the place, and was herself immediately denounced and sent to prison as an accomplice. The matter had now grown to such a height, that the magistrates, headed by the deputy governor of the state, held a judicial court in the meeting-house of Salem. Parris, and a fellow-clergyman, Noyes, were active in discovering the witches and suggesting fresh accusations. The afflicted were placed on one hand, and the accused on the other, the latter being held by the arms lest they should inflict torment on the former, who declared themselves haunted by their spectres, and solicited to subscribe a covenant with the devil, and on their refusal pricked and injured. The husband of Elizabeth Procter, one of the accused, having boldly accompanied her into court, the possessed cried out upon him also. There is goodman Procter going to take up Mrs. Pope's feet, cries one of them, and her feet are immediately taken up. He is going to Mrs. Pope, cries another, and straightway Mrs. Pope falls into fits. One Bishop, a farmer, had brought round a possessed servant by the application of a horsewhip, and had rashly hinted that he could with the like remedy cure the whole company of the afflicted. For this indecent scoffing he soon found himself in prison. Between fanaticism and terror the minds of the accused became unhinged; many, staggered by the results ascribed to their agency, for a while believed themselves to be what they were called ; and others, finding no safety but in confession, gave fraudulent and circumstantial narratives of interviews with the devil, and of riding through the air on a broomstick ; and these confessions, reacting upon minds already fully per- suaded of the reality of the crime, tended to fortify them still further in their delusion, and to give birth to a still widening circle of accusations and con- fessions. Nearly a hundred persons were already thrown into prison, and the excitement was still rapidly on the increase. It was at this crisis that Sir "William Phipps arrived from England with the new charter. He had been a parishioner of Cotton Mather's, and owed his appointment as governor to the favour of Increase Mather, his father, who had been allowed to nominate the officers for the crown. Under such influ- ence, as may be supposed, the new governor, far from taking steps to coun- teract the delusion, and secure an impartial and searching examination, first 192 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1692. chap. p U t the prisoners in irons, and organized a special court for their trial at Salem, over which presided Stoughton, the lieutenant-governor, a man fully- partaking in the popular infatuation. The work was hurried on as vigor- ously as the ministers could have desired, several old women, and others, upon evidence no better than has been cited, being forthwith condemned and hanged. Of these, all died solemnly persisting in their innocence. One woman, Rebecca Nurse, had been declared innocent, but her accuser had cried out at this acquittal. Parris, who had made up his mind as to her guilt, preached and prayed against her, until a fresh verdict was ob- tained; and after being led in chains to the meeting-house, and formally excom- municated, she was hanged with the others. Some few spirits dared to resist the general delusion, and hurl back defiance into the teeth of their accusers. You are a witch, you know you are, said the minister Noyes to Sarah Good. You are a liar, she retorted, and if you take my life, God will give you blood to drink. One wretched man, refusing to plead at all, was pressed to death for his contumacy. But the greater part sought safety in confession, or even in accusing others. Wives denounced their husbands — children their parents. The public mind was utterly demoralized with terror. One of the most remarkable victims was George Burrows, himself a minister, but who had for some reason become unpopular both with his flock and his fellow-ministers, whose convictions he had outraged, and whose self-conceit he had wounded, by declaring his entire disbelief even of the possibility of the crime for which they were putting so many to death. Among other things, he was accused of displaying preternatural strength — of course through the assist- ance of the devil. He staggered, however, the more reasonable portion of the crowd present at his execution, by solemnly and fervently repeating the Lord's Prayer, which it was supposed no wizard could do. The tears of the spec- tators began to flow, and they gave signs of rising to stop the execution, but the dangerous sympathy was arrested by Cotton Mather, who, riding to and fro, carefully reminded them that Burrows had never been properly ordained, and that to deceive the unwary, Satan often put on the appearance of the children of light. Twenty persons had already been executed, others were under sen- tence, and the prisons were full, when the court adjourned until November. Mather proceeded to improve the interval by publishing his " Wonders of the Invisible World ; " in which, although he suggests caution in the dis- crimination of evidence, he glories in the good work which he had been mainly instrumental in promoting, and evidently anticipated its full and satis- factory completion. Here, however, he was destined to be most bitterly mor- tified. A reaction soon after commenced, the circle of accusations had become too sweeping, even ministers and persons in power were not safe, dark hints having been thrown out even against the governor's wife, and one of the first magistrates compelled to fly. Moreover the interval had given time for men's minds to recover some degree of sanity, and to combine for the general safety. Many who had confessed now boldly recanted. Having been ■•'■ V or THE UNIVERSITY OF HISTORY OF AMERICA. 193 suddenly seized as prisoners, as they declared, and " by reason of trie suiden chap. surprisal amazed and affrighted out of their reason, and exhorted by their ]6?2 nearest relatives to confess, as the only means of saving their lives, they were 1(593 - thus persuaded into compliance. And indeed the confession was no other than what was suggested to them by some gentlemen, who, telling them that they were witches and that they knew they were so, made them tltink it was so ; and their understandings, their reason, their faculties, almost gone, they were incapable of judging of their condition ; and being moreover prevented by hard measures from making their defence, they confessed to any thing and every thing required of them." The scales began to fall from the eyes of a deluded people. Remonstrances now poured in against condemning persons of exemplary lives upon the idle accusations of children ; the evident partiality of the judges, their cruel methods of compelling confessions, their total disre- gard of recantations however sincere, at length appeared in their true light. On the opening of the next court, the grand jury dismissed the greater part of the cases, and those who had already been sentenced to death were re- prieved, and ultimately released. Mather was utterly astonished and con- founded at this so unlooked-for result, and while, in order to meet the altered state of public feeling, in his " Cases of Conscience concerning Witchcraft," he admitted that " the most critical and exquisite caution " was required in discriminating the genuine offenders, inasmuch as the devil might assume the appearance of an innocent person ; yet he stoutly contended for the reality of the crime, and the justice which had been dealt both to those who were really guilty, and also those who, by confessing falsely, had only got what they de- served. He strove hard to discover fresh cases, but received a mortifying check by the publications of one Robert Calef, " a coal sent from hell to blacken him, a malignant, calumnious, and reproachful man," whose stubborn common sense persisted in denying the existence of the crime; he even invited reports of " apparitions, possessions, enchantments, and all extraordinary things."' But, alas ! the excitement was over, the " spirits came not at his call," and staggered by the want of answer to his earnest prayers, his own mind was in some danger of realizing that reaction which had taken place in others, and he feelingly bewails "his temptations to atheism, and to the abandonment of all religion as a mere delusion." Meanwhile the frontier warfare continued with unabated cruelty on both sides. In retaliation for Indian incursions, Colonel Church ravaged one of their settlements on the Androscosrsren, and made an indiscriminate massacre Do 7 of men, women, and children. Every farm was a fortress, for every forest bore a lurking enemy. Men became cruel in self-defence, and even the temper of woman, tortured from its natural bias by witnessing such unnatural horrors, became tinged with a savage and gloomy heroism. On March 15, 1697, the savages burst upon Haverhill, destroying all before them. One Dustan, the father of eight young children, caught the alarm, and flew from his la- bours to save them and their mother, who had lain in but a few days, and with her nurse was at that moment within doors. Hurrying away his unpro- 2 c A. D. 1697 194 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, tected children, with directions to hasten to a fortified house, he rode towards his home, but before he could gain the threshold, a sudden rush of the In- dians compelled him to fly, and leave his wife at their mercy. In this state of distraction he flew after his children, resolving to save, to use the language of the narrative, " that which in his extremity he should find his affections to pitch most upon, and leave the rest unto the care of the Divine providence." But when he overtook his terrified babes, clinging to him for succour, he felt that to die with all of them were better than escape with one alone, and placing them before him, he continued to cover their retreat and fire upon his pursuers, until happily he succeeded in making good his escape to a place of safety. " But his house," says the old account, "must in the mean time have more dismal tragedies acted in it." The nurse, trying to escape with the new-born infant, fell into the hands of the savages, who, rushing into the house, bade the mother arise instantly, while they plundered the house and afterwards set it on fire. They then hurried her away before them, together with a number of other captives, but ere they had gone many steps, dashed out the brains of the infant against a tree. The mother's heart would have sunk, but she thought of her surviving children, and summoned up strength to march before the savages towards the Canadian frontier. She saw her companions, as they sunk one by one with exhaustion, brained by the tomahawk of the savages, and their scalps taken as trophies to the Christian governor of Canada. After sojourning, in prayerfulness and anguish of spirit, with the Indian family to which she was allotted, she pursued with them her onward course towards an Indian rendezvous, where, as she was jestingly told, she would have to run the gauntlet through a row of savage tormentors. When they marked the dejec- tion of her spirits they would say to her, "What need you trouble yourself? If your God will have you delivered, you will be so ! " A desperate resolution took possession of her mind — might she not lawfully slay the murderers of her babe, effect thus her own deliverance, and rejoin her husband and chil- dren, if haply they were yet alive ? One night, on an island in the Merrimac, a little before daybreak, while the Indians were heavy with sleep, she en- couraged the nurse, and a captive lad who accompanied her, to nerve them- selves to the work of retribution. There was but one fear, lest the softness of their sex should overcome them at the decisive moment, and they should only wound, not kill the Indians. But they had already been familiar with the sight of blood, and knew that their own lives depended upon their success. They armed themselves with tomahawks, and struck, with convulsive energy, blow upon blow, until of the twelve sleepers ten lay dead at their feet, only one squaw, already wounded, and a boy escaping into the forest. They then took the scalps of the ten Indians whom they had slain, threw themselves into a canoe, and descended the stream to the English settlements, where they were received and honoured with the honour due to weak women, who in these fearful times knew how to rise superior to the natural infirmity of their sex. 1 HISTORY OF AMERICA. 195 With marvellous energy, but with varying success, Frontenac still continued c ha p. to struggle against the Iroquois. Although now seventy-four years old, he ■£-£-—, - personally conducted an expedition, and carried the wars into the territory of the Onondagas and Oneidas, cutting up their corn and burning their villages. It was a melancholy spectacle to see a man of noble descent, and of heroic spirit, himself tottering on the brink of the grave, giving his sanction to torture an Indian prisoner, as aged as himself, with all the refinements of savage cruelty ! " A most singular spectacle indeed it was," says the missionary Charlevoix, (whose moral sense seems to have been blinded to the sense of these and other atrocities, when perpetrated in the interest of his own party,) "to see upwards of four hundred tormentors raging about a decrepit old man, from whom, by all their tortures, they could not extract a single groan, and who, as long as he lived, did not cease to reproach them with being slaves of the French, of whom he affected to speak with the utmost disdain. On re- ceiving at last his death-stroke, he exclaimed, " Why shorten my life, better improve this opportunity of learning how to die like a man ! " This first intercolonial war, a desultory and savage struggle, which left matters pretty much as they were, was at length brought to a close in 1697, by the Peace of Byswick. The temporary repose of North America from the horrors of an inter- colonial warfare, originating in the rivalries of European powers, was soon again disturbed by the war of the Spanish succession, in which William III. and Queen Anne were opposed to the French and Spaniards. Hostilities first broke out in South Carolina, where Moore, the governor, who strove to enrich himself by kidnapping Indians to sell them for slaves, animated by this motive, and the hope of plunder, assaulted the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine, where, since the foundation of this ancient town by Melandez, the Spaniards had made but little progress in the work of colonizing the country. Moore easily succeeded in taking the town, but the Spanish troops retiring into the fort, and intelligence of the inroad being conveyed to the French at Mobile, two ships of war speedily appeared before St. Augustine, and forced Moore to a hurried retreat ; and this abortive attempt led only to debt and an issue of paper money. Not discouraged, however, Moore undertook a new expedition against Florida, fell suddenly upon the settlements of those Indians who had been half-civilized by the Spaniards, and whose vacated territory was made over to the Seminole allies of the English. On the other hand Charleston, menaced by a French and Spanish squadron, was bravely and successfully defended by the governor, Sir Nathaniel Johnson. The whole weight of the war fell upon the exposed northern frontier of Massachusetts. The Marquis de Vaudreuil, who now succeeded Frontenac in the government of Canada, having conciliated the Five Nations, was at liberty to concentrate his energies against the north-east colonists. Unfortunately, they had already provoked hostilities, by plundering the son of the Baron de Castin on the Penobscot river. A body of French Canadians and Indians, under the command of Hertel de Rouville, making their way across the wide 2 c 2 A. D. 1708. 196 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, wilderness that separated the St. Lawrence from the Connecticut, stole upon the village of Deerfield in the dead of a winter's night, when all the inhabitants were buried in sleep. The frontier village was surrounded by a palisade, but the snow drifts had rendered it useless, the invaders stole into the de- fenceless village and renewed the same horrible scenes that had so lately- been enacted at Schenectady. The village was burned, nearly fifty of the inhabitants murdered, and a hundred more driven through the snow-covered forests to Canada, a distance of nearly three hundred miles. As the women and children sunk with fatigue their sufferings were ended by the tomahawk. In reprisal for these atrocities the English offered a premium for the scalps of the Indians, and the whole frontier was a scene of bloody and barbarous re- crimination. Next year Hertel de Rouville set forth on a second predatory expedition, with the view of surprising Portsmouth, but not being able to obtain some expected reinforcements, fell again upon the little village of Haverhill. One dreadful circumstance attending these acts of murder and incendiarism was, that those who perpetrated them, misled by sectarian hatred, believed that they were doing God service. The Frenchman and his con- federates, after piously joining in prayer, entered the village a little before sun-rise, and began the wonted work of destruction. Fifty of the inhabitants were killed by the hatchet, or burned in the flames of their own homesteads. The first panic having subsided, a bold defence was made. Davis, an intrepid man, concealed himself behind a barn, and by beating violently on it, and calling out to his imaginary succours, Come on ! Come on ! as if already on the spot, succeeded in alarming the invaders. Here occurred another re- markable instance of female energy and heroism, called forth by the terrible emergencies of the period. One Swan, and his wife, seeing two Indians ap- proach their dwelling, to save themselves and children, planted themselves against the narrow doorway, and maintained it with desperate energy against them, till their strength began to fail. The husband, unable to bear the pressure, cried to his wife that it was useless any longer to resist, but she, seeing but one of the half-naked Indians was already forcing himself into the doorway, seized a sharp-pointed spit, drove it with her whole strength into his body, and thus compelled himself and his fellow savage to retreat. The alarm being given, it was with some difficulty that the invaders contrived to effect their escape from the scene of their barbarous, and as regards the issue of the war, purposeless, and ineffectual outrage. There were yet a few minds who rose superior to the general feeling of mutual revenge. Such was Major Schuyler, who had already used his influence to prevent the Christian Indians from attacking the settlements of New England. In a letter to the governor of Canada, he declared it to be his duty towards God and his neighbour to prevent, if possible, these barbarous and heathen cruelties. " My heart swells with indignation," exclaims this gallant man, " when I think that a war be- tween Christian princes, bound to the exactest laws of honour and generosity, which their noble ancestors have illustrated by brilliant examples, is de- generating into a savage and boundless butchery. These are not the methods HISTORY OF AMERICA. 197 for terminating the war. "Would that all the world thought with me on this c ha p. subject." - D ]71I Dudley, the governor of Massachusetts, had made two abortive attempts for the seizure of Port Royal, and the territory of Acadia. An earnest peti- tion was now made to Queen Anne, to terminate this "consuming war" of little less than twenty years' duration, by the final conquest of all the French possessions. All the northern states joined in raising and equipping troops, and agents were sent over to urge the co-operation of the English government. Their application was successful, and a fleet of six English ships appeared in the harbour of Boston, which, with a considerable force raised by the colonists, proceeded, under the command of Nicholson, to invest Port Royal, which was in no condition to offer a protracted resistance. The French were obliged to capitulate, and the conquered fortress, in honour of the English queen, receiv- ed the name of Annapolis, which it has ever since retained. Nicholson, flushed with success, now returned to England, and was fortunate enough to obtain from government the means for effecting a more important triumph. A fleet of fifteen ships of the line, conveying five regiments of Marlborough, veteran troops, were shortly afterwards despatched to Boston. The plan originally formed for a simultaneous attack upon Canada by land and sea was now renewed. A body of fifteen hundred men, raised by New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey, was assembled at Albany under the command of Nicholson, with five hundred Indian allies, to march on Montreal; while the fleet, with seven thousand men on board, proceeded to invest Quebec. Intelligence of this expected attack soon reached Quebec, where prepara- tions were made for a determined resistance. The inhabitants were daily on the stretch for the appearance of the formidable "armament, which however was never destined to arrive. The fleet, commanded by Sir Hovenden Walker, while ascending the St. Lawrence, became entangled one thick night among some shoals and islands. The pilots advised one course, the obstinate admiral another, and he was yet disputing with an officer on board, when the cry of "breakers" was heard, and it was only by putting his ship about instantly that she narrowly escaped. As soon as daylight appeared, it was ascertained that eight of the vessels had been lost, and nearly a thousand men had perished. The admiral hereupon immediately set sail for England, leaving the colonial vessels to return to Boston. The second intercolonial war terminated by the Peace of Utrecht, the terms of which were advantageous as regards America, conceding to her entire possession of Hudson Bay and the fur trade, the supremacy in the Newfound- land fisheries, and the territory of Acadia, which now received the name of Nova Scotia. While the war thus terminated was yet in progress, internal disturbances of a serious nature had broken out in Carolina. The Tuscarora Indians, re- senting the advance of a body of German emigrants upon their hunting grounds, seized and burned the surveyor under whose authority the lands had been appointed, and commenced an exterminating attack upon the strag- A. D. 1724. 198 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, gling settlers. The inhabitants of North Carolina, divided among themselves by political feuds, did not at first repel these aggressions with vigour, but with the arrival of succours from South Carolina, the war was carried on with in- discriminating revenge, and many Indians, guiltless of participation in the attack upon the whites, were carried off as slaves. The conflict terminated in the usual way, the Tuscaroras were driven from their old forests, and took refuge with the Five Nations, and their vacated lands were thrown open to the onward advance of the whites. Although peace was now established, the uncertainty of the line of frontier kindled disputes with the French and their Indian allies, which led to bloody acts of mutual hostility. The territory between the Kennebec and St. Croix rivers was, in pursuance of the late treaty, claimed by Massachusetts, and New England settlers and traders had re-established themselves within its confines. The Abenaki Indians, on being informed by the governor of Canada that no direct cession of their country had been made by treaty, re- solved to maintain their ground, in which patriotic determination they were encouraged by the Catholic missionaries. The venerable Sebastian Rasles had for more than a quarter of a century laboured among them, display- ing all the best virtues of his order, and a village and chapel had grown up in the midst of the forest. As to his influence over the Indians was attributed their persevering determination to maintain their right to the soil, the seizure of his person accordingly became an object of the English ; and after many acts of hostility, an attempt was made to surprise him, but he succeeded in making his escape. Another secret expedition, animated at once by the de- sire of acquiring fresh territory, and of destroying French and Catholic influence, was shortly afterwards organized for the same purpose. A party from New England, emulating the bloody exploits of Hertel de Rouville, stole through the woods to the village of Norridgewock, a village then sur- rounded by a stockade, and containing a Catholic chapel and the dwelling- houses of Rasles and his converts. They advanced in profound silence, but one of the Indians having given the alarm, some fifty or sixty ran forward to meet the invaders, and cover the retreat of the aged and defenceless. They hastily discharged their guns at the English, who replied by a murderous volley, which put the Indians to the rout. The village and church were soon wrapt in flames, and an indiscriminate massacre of the Indians took place. The poor priest fell with his slaughtered flock, either shot down as he ran forward to draw upon himself the vengeance of the invaders, or, what is more improba- ble, while defending himself from his own house. As soon as the perpetrators of this outrage had retired, the Indians returned to the desolated village, and their first care, while the women sought plants and herbs proper to heal the wounded, was to shed tears over the corpse of their beloved missionary. They found him pierced with shot, his scalp taken off, his skull fractured with hatchets, his mouth and eyes filled with dirt, the bones of his legs broken, and his body shockingly mutilated. This barbarous spirit was en- couraged by a premium of a hundred pounds for every Indian scalp, and on HISTORY OF AMERICA. 199 such terms, one John Lovewell soon succeeded in raising a company of hunt- chap. ers, and carried on his operations with some success, displaying in triumphal procession the scalps he had taken, elevated on lofty poles, but at length met with that doom which so often overtakes the shedder of blood. While hunt- ing the Indians, he was himself surprised and shot with several of his con- federate scalp-hunters, among whom was Mr. Fry, the chaplain of Andover, who had himself killed and scalped an Indian in the heat of the action. The Indians retorted by burning frontier villages and farms. This dispute, which had well nigh involved all the northern colonies and Indians in a fresh war of mutual extermination, was at length found to be so unprofitable to both parties that they gladly agreed to a peace. Every such struggle however had but the same result, that of gradually operating the extermination of the weaker party, and opening their country to the further advance of the white men. The third intercolonial war originated in the endeavour, on the part of Spain, to maintain that jealous system of colonial monopoly, which she had adopted in its utmost rigour, and in which she was imitated, with less stringency, by the French and English. The latter had acquired by the treaty of Utrecht the privilege of transporting a certain number of slaves annually to the Spanish colonies, under cover of which a wide- spread system of smug- gling had been introduced, against which the Spaniards vainly sought to protect themselves by the establishment of revenue cruisers. Some of these Spanish vessels had attacked English ships engaged in lawful traffic, and had committed several instances of barbarity, which had greatly moved the popu- lar indignation, and excited a clamour for war, to which the minister was reluctantly obliged to consent. Shortly before the breaking out of this war, a new colony had been found- ed in the south, which became speedily involved in hostilities. Carolina had originated in the desire of selfish aggrandizement ; the adjacent one of Georgia, the last colony founded before the revolution, had its rise in a feeling of benevolence, and Non sibi sed allis was appropriately selected for its motto. James Oglethorpe, a young gentleman of family and fortune, a soldier and a scholar, at an age when his class are usually absorbed in the pursuit of pleasure, had already distinguished himself for his zeal against in- carceration for debt, and for mitigating the horrors of imprisonment. To provide an asylum for those whom he had rescued from the jails, as well as other de- stitute persons, he turned his attention to the foundation of a new colony, obtained the co-operation of many persons of rank, from parliament a charter of incorporation together with a pecuniary grant, still further increased by liberal contributions from the nobility and clergy, who had become warmly interested in the success of so benevolent a plan. Statesmen and merchants were attracted by considerations of policy and interest; the new colony would interpose a barrier between Carolina and the Spanish settlements, and its soil was said to be admirably adapted for the production of silk. Oglethorpe determined to superintend the planting of his colony. And 200 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, with thirty-five families, a clergyman, and a silk cultivator, on Nov. 17, 1732, set — - sail from Deptford, and after touching at Charleston, where he and his company to 1*736. were hospitably entertained and assisted, soon landed on the shores of his new province. On ascending the Savannah river, a pine-covered hill, somewhat elevated above its level shores, was fixed upon as the seat of the capital, which was laid out in broad avenues and open squares. During these operations Oglethorpe pitched his tent under a canopy of lofty pine trees. He found the spot, on his arrival, occupied by a small body of the Creek Indians, who were easily induced to surrender it, and to yield to the settlers an ample ex- tent of territory. A deputy of the Cherokees also made his appearance at Savannah. Fear nothing, but speak freely, said Oglethorpe to him, on his entry. I always speak freely, replied the Indian ; why should I fear '{ I am now among friends. I never feared even among my enemies. The Choctas also, complaining of French encroachment, shortly afterwards solicited a treaty of commerce with the new settlers. The English settlers, the sweepings of the jails, were not the most favourable class with which to plant a new colony, but as the fame of Oglethorpe and Georgia was spread abroad, it speedily received an accession of a more valu- able character. Among these were a body of German Lutherans, who, ex- # posed to persecution at home, obtained the sympathy and assistance of the English parliament, who furnished the means for enabling them to emigrate. Headed by their ministers, they left the home of their fathers on foot and walked to Rotterdam, their place of embarkation, chanting as they went, hymns of thanksgiving for their deliverance. They touched at Dover, where they had an interview with their English patrons ; and on reaching Georgia, formed at a distance above Savannah a settlement, piously called Ebenezer, where they were shortly after joined by other members of their community. To these shortly afterwards were added several Moravians, the disciples of Count Zinzendorf. A company of destitute Jews had also been furnished by some of their wealthier brethren with the means of emigrating to Georgia, where, though discouraged by the trustees, they were allowed to establish themselves in peace. Oglethorpe now returned to England, carrying with him some of the In- dian chiefs, who on his arrival were presented to his Majesty, feasted by the nobility, and loaded with presents to a large amount. They remained four months, and on their embarkation at Gravesend were conveyed to that port in one of the royal carriages. Gratified by the kindness of their entertain- ment, and the general interest they had excited, they swore, on their departure, eternal fidelity to the British nation. By means of a parliamentary grant, another valuable accession to the colony was made in 1736, consisting of a large body of Scotch Highlanders, who founded a colony called New Inver- ness. Oglethorpe himself returned with these settlers, and was accompanied by two young clergymen, whose names have since become famous wherever the English tongue is spoken. These were John and Charles Wesley, educated at Oxford, and as yet conformists to that . church from which, unable to effect HISTCRY OF AMERICA. 201 the reformation they desired, they afterwards led away so vast a secession, chap. Charles was appointed secretary to Oglethorpe, while John was chosen the - 1736 parish minister of Savannah, where however he soon became involved in dif- t0 1742 - ficulties, which ultimately drove him from the colony. He had been led into an attachment to a young lady, whose piety at first appeared unquestionable, but proving upon further experiment less ardent than was exacted by the en- thusiastic temper of Wesley and his religious associates, he had been led by principle to break off the connexion, and the lady shortly after married another person. Becoming now more " worldly " than before, she was refused admission to the Lord's supper by her former lover, as unfit to partake of that solemnity, an exclusion for which her husband brought a suit and obtained damages. Wesley, charged beside with other abuses of authority, and finding the public feeling running high against him, " shook off the dust of his feet," and re- turned to England, disgusted with a country where his principles were des- tined to acquire a wide-spread influence, but which he never afterwards personally revisited. The towns of Frederica and Augusta were now founded, and the trading part of the English pushed nearer to the frontiers of the Spaniards, with whom hostilities were then pending. Oglethorpe had acquired the veneration of all classes by his benevolent labours, " nobly devoting all his powers to serve the poor, and rescue them from their wretchedness;" and no less was his vigour displayed in the defence of his beloved colony. Though he himself possessed no share of its territory, he determined to shelter it, if needful, with his life. " To me," he said to Charles Wesley, " death is nothing. If separate spirits regard our little concerns, they do it as men regard the follies of their childhood." He returned to England, raised and disciplined a regiment, and returned to Savannah, where he was received with an enthusiastic welcome. Soon afterwards the war, signalized by the voyage of Anson and the disasters of Vernon, broke out. Oglethorpe, after an unsuccessful siege of the neighbouring city of St. Augustine, returned to defend his own colony, which was menaced with invasion by the Spaniards. He succeeded in re- pelling a formidable attack upon Frederica,, which had inspired the greatest apprehensions in Charleston. Notwithstanding these successes, Oglethorpe found the government of his newly-founded colony any thing but an easy task, and was destined to experience no small share of meanness and ingratitude. The colonists first sent over Thomas Stevens as their agent to England, laden with complaints against the trustees in general, which having been duly ex- amined by the House of Commons, were pronounced to be " false, scandalous, and malicious." Oglethorpe himself was next cited to appear in England to answer charges brought against his character, which he so effectually suc- ceeded in vindicating, that his accuser, who was his own lieutenant-colonel, was deprived of his commission. He never afterwards returned to Georgia. His name, which no malevolence could ever stain with baseness, will ever stand conspicuous among the noble spirits who have laboured for the ameli- oration of their species. 2 D 202 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A.D.I 745. c h^a p. The French soon afterwards became involved in the war, and the northern frontier became a third time the scene of hostilities. After the cession of Acadia to the English, the French had expended vast sums in the erection of the fortress of Louisburg, on the island of Cape Breton, which soon became a stronghold for numerous privateers, that inflicted severe injuries on the commerce and fisheries of New England. To effect its reduction was therefore of the most vital importance, yet the attempt might well have appeared all but desperate. The walls of the fortress, surrounded with a moat, were prodigiously strong, and furnished with nearly two hundred pieces of cannon. A body of prisoners, however, who, having been seized at the English settlement of Canso and carried to Louisburg, were allowed to return to Boston on parole, disclosed the important fact that the garrison was both weak and disaffected. Shirley, the governor, proposed to the legislature of Massachusetts to attempt its reduction, a proposal carried by only a single vote. The northern States, invited to co-operate against the common enemy, furnished some small supplies of men and money, but the chief burden fell upon Massachusetts itself. The enthusiasm of her citi- zens was enkindled by religious zeal as well as commercial interest — all classes offered themselves as volunteers, from the hardy woodman of the in- terior, to the intrepid fisherman of the coast. Whitefield, then on a preaching excursion through the northern colonies, gave as a motto for the flag, " With Christ as a leader, nothing is to be despaired of," and sermons were preached to maintain the popular excitement at- the highest pitch. Ten vessels shortly sailed from Boston with a body of more than three thousand men, and after a few days' sail reached Canso, where they were to await the melting of the ice and the arrival of further succours. Most for- tunately they were here joined by four English ships of war, under the com- mand of Captain Warren, who at the solicitation of Shirley had been ordered to co-operate zealously with the expedition. Over the New England arma- ment was William Pepperell, a wealthy merchant of Maine, but who had no further knowledge of military affairs than he had obtained by commanding the militia. On the morning of the last day of April, the squadron arrived off Louisburg, the troops were landed in spite of opposition, and the siege was carried on with all the energy of courage and enthusiasm, though uninstructed and inexperienced in the art of war. Cannon were dragged through morasses, and batteries established in an irregular sort of way, but no impression was made upon the works, and after the first outburst of excitement was spent, the most sanguine were compelled to admit that the place seemed all but impregna- ble, and that the campaign promised to be both long and arduous. Happily the greatest friends of the besiegers were a discontented garrison and embarrassed governor, whose supplies had been already cut off by the vigilance of the Eng- lish fleet, that now succeeded in capturing, under his very eyes, a ship of war sent to his relief. To hold out longer with any chance of success was impossible, and on the 17th, he accordingly surrendered. This important capture was look- ed on by the pious New Englanders as " a remarkable providence," and caused I. A. D. 1747. HISTOHY OF AMERICA. 203 great rejoicings at Boston. The enterprise indeed was all their own, though chap. its success had been materially promoted by succours from the mother coun- try, where their energy and prowess were honourably recognised, not without some slight tincture of jealous apprehensions for the future. Pepper ell re- ceived the honour of an English Baronetcy, and Shirley received a commis- sion as Colonel in the British army. The fall of Louisburg was no sooner known in Paris than a formidable armament was despatched from the shores of France for its recapture, as well as that of Acadia itself. It was commanded by M. D'Anville, an able and experienced officer, but was scattered by a succession of disasters, and return- ed home without accomplishing its object. A second fleet which was de- spatched on the same errand, was encountered and captured by a British squadron under Admirals Anson and "Warren. This fortress, however, which the arms of France had been unable to retain or recapture, was shortly afterwards restored to its former possessors at the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, to the deep mortification of the New Englanders. Some amends however were made by the payment to them of an indemnity by the British government for the expenses they had incurred in the ex- pedition. Shortly before the peace, occurred an incident which conspicuously dis- played the spirit of the people of Boston. Commodore Knowles, then off that city with his fleet, having lost several of his men by desertion, proceeded to fill up their room by a summary and cruel process of impressment, which at that time was universally resorted to in England. Sending some of his boats up to Boston, he seized from the wharves, as well as vessels, as many persons, lands- men and seamen, as his necessities happened to require. This proceed- ing, unheard of in the colonies, created an intense excitement. A mob of several thousand people immediately collected, and besieged the town -house, where the council was then in session, with a storm of stones and brickbats. In vain did Governor Shirley come forth upon the balcony, and with a dis- avowal of the outrage, and a promise to obtain redress, endeavour to calm the exasperated feelings of the populace — they seized upon the officers of the ship, who happened to be on shore at the time, and detained them as hostages for the ransom of their fellow citizens. The governor earnestly entreated Knowles to give up the impressed seamen, in reply to which he offered to land a body of mariners to support the governor, and threatened to bombard the town unless the tumult was appeased. The excitement continually increased, and the militia, who were called out next day, evincing a sympathy with the mob, Shirley, considering himself in personal danger, retired from the town to the castle, situated on an island in the neighbouring bay, a retreat which the more zealous of the mob began to consider equal to an abdication. As mat- ters had now reached an alarming pitch, the leading members of society, who had fully concurred in the movement, began to think that it was time to check it, and assembling in town meeting, declared their intention, at the same time that they yielded to none in a sense of the outrage committed by Knowles, to 2 d 2 A. D. 1747. 204 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, stand by the governor and executive, and to suppress this threatening tumult, which they attributed to " negroes and persons of vile condition." Meanwhile Knowlcs, at the earnest solicitation of the governor, consented to return most of the men he had impressed, and shortly afterwards departed with his fleet, while Shirley, returning to Boston, was escorted to his house with every honour by the same militia, who but a day or two before had refused to obey his instructions. In his report of this rebellious insurrection, he ascribes the " mobbish turn of a town inhabited by twenty thousand people, to its constitu- tion, by which the management of it devolves on the populace assembled in their town meetings." Thus, for the present, terminated the struggle between France and Eng- land on the continent of North America. It was however but a temporary truce, for the disputes concerning the boundaries alone contained the seed of future wars, which could only end with the absolute ascendency of the strongest party. The conquest of Canada had become the favourite scheme both of the English government and the northern colonies ; an object not to be _ accomplished in less than several campaigns, in which the blood and treasure of France and England were freely squandered, and in which success alter- nated with either party, until the dispute was finally decided by the memor- able encounter upon the heights of Quebec. ii. a. d.: CHAPTER II. GENERAL PROGRESS OF THE COLONIES DURING THE PERIOD OF THE INTERCOLONIAL ■WARS. — MASSACHUSETTS. — NEW YORK.— PENNSYLVANIA. — VIRGINIA. — THE CAROLINAS. — GEORGIA. — LOUISIANA. chap. We now proceed to give a view of the general progress and political con- dition of the colonies during the intercolonial wars. While the provisional government that followed the deposition of Andros lasted, the mass of the peo- ple in Massachusetts desired the restoration of their original charter, but the council of safety held out, partly for fear of committing themselves with the English government, and partly as secretly desiring to effect certain liberal modifications. Mather had been sent over to England as agent for the colony, and with him was associated Sir Henry Ashurst, an English dissenter of influence. On soliciting at court a restoration of the charter, they were at first backed by the parliament itself, but the fulfilment of their desires was baulked by the ascendency of the Tory party. William's sense of prerogative was as high as that of his predecessors, and the crown lawyers maintained HISTORY OF AMERICA. 205 the absolute power of the king and parliament to modify at will the govern- chap. ment of the colonies, unless when a special legal provision existed against it. . However doubtful might be this pretension in the abstract, it was in the pre- A ' D ' 1<592 ' sent instance the cause of the political foundation of the colony being laid more broadly and securely than before. When Sir William Phipps, in 1692, returned as governor bearing with him a new charter, it was found to contain very considerable modifications, of which the most important was the alter- ation of the right of suffrage, which had proved the bone of contention ever since the foundation of the State. This privilege was now no longer to be confined to orthodox church members, but upon all freeholders whatsoever to the annual value of forty shillings. Toleration was also expressly secured to all except Papists. Politically speaking, therefore, the power of the theo- cratic party, under whose stern rule the commonwealth had grown up, was now come to an end, although, as we shall presently see, they long continued to exercise a preponderating influence upon the public mind of the colony. By this charter the province acquired a great increase of territory. Its ju- risdiction extended over Plymouth, Maine, and Nova Scotia ; New Hamp- shire being excluded. The people as before were to elect the council of representatives, but the nomination of the governor and chief officers was reserved to the crown. The royal governors of Massachusetts often experienced no little difficulty in dealing with a people so doggedly tenacious of popular rights. Under the administration of Colonel Shute, a quarrel arose between the advocates of a public and private bank, in which the governor sided with the former, and thus exposed himself to the virulent opposition of the advocates of the latter. This party, enjoying a majority, elected their leader, a man par- ticularly obnoxious to Shute, to the post of speaker ; the governor interposed his veto, and, the house persisting in its choice on the ground that the charter gave to the governor no express authority for such an act, he at once dissolved them. The people returned nearly the same men, who, while they chose another speaker, protested boldly against the governor's act, and voted him a diminished salary. The governor then informed them that he was instructed by the king to recommend the appointment of a regular and competent salary, a request which they continued to evade through several sessions, until Shute, finding his situation intolerable, privately returned to England, loud in his complaints against the factious temper of the colonists, and their disposition to encroach upon the royal prerogative until it would become at last no better than nominal. The same controversy was renewed under the governorship of his successor, Burnet, who had been removed hither from New York. His demand for a permanent salary which should confer on him inde- pendence and dignity was evaded, although the assembly voted liberally for a present supply. The dispute, again prolonged through several sessions, remain- ed unadjusted. A memorial was sent over to the king by the assembly, justi- fying their conduct, and the matter was referred to the Board of Trade, who, after hearing advocates for both parties, condemned the assembly, and in their 206 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, concluding report to the king, press upon him the necessity of vigorously — — - — restraining the growing power of the colonists. " The inhabitants," say the Board, " far from making suitable returns to his Majesty, for the extraordinary privileges they enjoy, are daily endeavouring to wrest the small remains of power out of the hands of the crown, and to be- come independent of the mother kingdom. The nature of the soil and pro- ducts are much the same with Great Britain, the inhabitants upwards of ninety-four thousand, and their militia, consisting of sixteen regiments of foot and fifteen troops of horse, in the year 1718, fifteen thousand men ; and by a medium taken from the naval officers' accounts for three years, from the 24th of June, 1714, to the 24th of June, 1717, for the ports of Boston and Salem only, it appears that the trade of this country employs continually no less than three thousand four hundred and ninety-three sailors, and four hundred and ninety-two ships, making twenty-five thousand four hundred and six tons. Hence your Excellencies will be apprized of what importance it is to his Majesty's service, that so powerful a colony should be restrained within due bounds of obedience to the crown ; which, we conceive, cannot effectually be done without the interposition of the British legislature, wherein, in our humble opinion, no time should be lost." The passing of the Molasses Act, in 1733, is worthy of remark as being the first instance in which the claim of England to regulate the external commerce of the colonies was asserted in a manner similar to that which, but a few years later, produced a general convulsion. The people of New England having established a manufacture of rum from molasses imported from the West Indies, which interfered with the trade of those islands, a duty was imposed by parliament upon imports received thence by the colonists. This measure created great discontent, and an inhabitant of Massachusetts was severely called to account by the general court for the evidence on the subject which he had given before the House of Commons — a proceeding which was warmly resented by that body. Besides its obvious tendency to injure colonial com- merce, it was protested against as divesting the colonists of their rights as Englishmen, by levying taxes upon them against their consent, without their possessing any representation in parliament. This act, afterwards regarded as a precedent by English statesmen, was however very generally evaded. As the colonists continued the development of their internal resources, and new channels of foreign commerce opened to their enterprise, it was becoming more and more the general feeling that such restrictions could not much longer be submitted to, although as yet open opposition to them seems not to have been thought of. But the smouldering fire was ready to burst forth on the first occasion of importance. In New York, still divided into the Leislerian and anti-Leislerian factions, the administration of Fletcher, who had succeeded to Slaughter, was intended to carry out the predominance of English influence. Fletcher was active and energetic, and zealous in the service of the colony, but rash and passionate, the firm partisan of the English Church, and disposed to assert the absolute HISTORY OF AMERICA. £07 supremacy of royal power. Even the aristocratic party itself resisted these c ha p. despotic tendencies, and passed an act declaring that supreme legislative power belonged to the governor and council, and to the people through their representatives, and that no tax could be levied without their consent, enactments which were nevertheless annulled by the English sovereign: A plan warmly cherished by Fletcher was to endow the English Episcopal Church, in lieu of the Dutch, to which the mass of the inhabitants yet re- mained warmly attached. Having laid the subject before the assembly, they so far complied as to pass an act making provision for certain ministers, the choice of whom was however to be left to the people themselves. The council made an amendment, that the approval or rejection of their candidate should be left with the governor, but the assembly refused to sanction it. Fletcher was highly indignant, and having commanded the attendance of the assembly, prorogued them in a speech curiously characteristic both of the man himself, and of colonial administration in general. " Gentlemen, There is also a bill for settling a ministry in this city and some other countries of the government. In that very thing you have showed a great deal of stiffness. You take upon you, as if you were dictators. I sent down to you an amendment of three or four words in that bill, which, though very immaterial, yet was positively denied ; I must tell you it seems very un- mannerly. There never was an amendment yet desired by the council-board but what was rejected. It is the sign of a stubborn ill temper, and this I have also passed." Proceeding then to remind them that they have but a third share in the government, that the council were a sort of upper house, and that he had the power by his Majesty's letters patent to collate or suspend at his pleasure, he concludes thus sarcastically: "You have sat a long time to little purpose, and have been a great charge to the country. Ten shillings a-day is a large allowance, and you punctually exact it. You have been always forward enough to pull down the fees of other ministers in the govern- ment. Why did you not think it expedient to correct your own? Gentle- men, I shall say no more at present, but that you do withdraw to your private affairs in the country. I do prorogue you to the tenth of January next, and you are hereby prorogued to the 10th day of January next ensuing." Nor was Fletcher more fortunate with the stubborn citizens of Connecticut, than he had been with the assembly of New York. The English government, bent on a system of centralization, desired to confer the command of the Con- necticut militia upon the governor of New York, a plan which extorted from the inhabitants of the former State a spirited protest against a measure inimical to their freedom and repugnant to their charter. This memorial they despatch- ed to England by the hands of Winthrop, but Fletcher, without awaiting an answer, determined to carry matters with the high hand of power. Repairing therefore to the small town of Hartford, where the Connecticut assembly was then in session, he endeavoured, but in vain, to overawe that body into an immediate compliance with his demands. Declaring that he would not set his foot out of the province till his Majesty's orders had been obeyed, he then 208 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, ordered the trained bands to be assembled, and his commission to be read ! to them. Captain Wadsworth, the senior captain, walked up and down, a. d. 1695. os t ens jbiy engaged in exercising his men. "Beat the drums," he exclaim- ed, as Fletcher's officer lifted up his voice to read. The governor commanded silence, and his officer prepared to read. " Drum, drum, I say again," vocifer- ated Wadsworth, and the voice of the reader was a second time drowned in the discordant roll. " Silence," passionately exclaimed Fletcher. " Drum, drum, I say," roared Wadsworth in a still louder key; and significantly turn- ing to Fletcher, he exclaimed, " If I am interrupted again I will make the sun shine through you in a moment." The angry governor, astounded at this display of spirit, was compelled to swallow the affront, and shortly afterward Winthrop returned with the royal concession, that on ordinary occasions, at least, the command of the local militia belonged to the respective States. If Fletcher was rash, arbitrary, and unsuccessful in moulding the public mind, Lord Bellamont, who succeeded him after the peace of Byswick, and had a general commission to preside over the northern colonies, by mildness, liberality, and conciliating manners, won golden opinions from all ranks of the people. While in England, he had taken an active part in the renewal of Leisler's attainder, and on his arrival the bones of that unfortunate man and his son-in-law were taken up, and after lying some days in state, solemnly reinterred in the Dutch church, while an indemnity was also voted to their heirs. Repairing to Boston, Lord Bellamont, although an Episcopalian, by his courteous and respectful treatment of the theocratic clergy, and occa- sionally attending their ministrations, rendered himself exceedingly popular, and freely obtained a larger salary than any preceding governor had been allowed. While he thus became personally acceptable, he was but indifferently successful in the special objects he was sent out to accomplish. Of these the principal was the enforcement of conformity to the acts of trade. The original establishment, by the arbitrary government of the Stuarts, of these obnoxious statutes, together with their successful evasion, has been already described : they were now enforced by a new, and perhaps more formidable authori*~ that of parliament itself, and fortified by a growing commercial jealousy on the part of the English mercantile and manufacturing interest, who were now acquiring a powerful influence over the affairs of the nation. At the earnest instances of this body a permanent commission had been formed, denominated "The Board of Trade and Plantations." As the narrow policy of commercial monopoly was at that time universal, and the doctrine was asserted that the colonies existed for the purpose of enriching the parent state, it became the business of this commission to adopt every means for discouraging manufac- tures in the colonies, of checking the freedom of their commerce, and divert- ing its profits into English coffers. In New York all attempts to enforce the restrictions had been vain, and the Boston merchants loudly expressed their indignation at the selfish and oppressive enactments. It was even asserted that the colonists were not bound to obey laws enacted in a country where they had no representatives. Although some temporizing concessions A. D. 1698. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 209 were made by Rhode Island. Bellamont soon found himself involved in chap. disputes arising out of this subject, which were only terminated by his sudden death. "With a view to the suppression of piracy, which had followed in the train of the late wars, a company was formed in which both the king and the colonial governor were partners, for the recapture of piratical vessels, as well as the second-hand acquisition of their ill-gotten plunder. The command of an armed vessel for this purpose was conferred on William Kidd, a New York shipmaster ; but hardly had he been sent to sea, when he turned pirate himself, contrived to engage the crew in his schemes, and entered upon an atro- cious career of murder and pillage. One of Bellamont's instructions was, if possible, to capture Kidd, who for three years evaded all pursuit. Strange to say, however, after the expiration of that term, wearied or disappointed, he burned his ship, buried a considerable amount of treasure on Long Island, and ventured openly to appear in the streets of Boston, where he was recog- nised by the astonished Bellamont, and being sent to England, terminated his career on the gallows. Much odium was naturally attached to everybody implicated in this adventure, and a motion was made in the House of Com- mons that all concerned in it should be deprived of their employments, but the confession of Kidd conclusively showed the falsity of these suspi- cions, by its denial of any accomplices in his crimes. To the amiable Bellamont succeeded Lord Cornbury, a grandson of Clarendon, sent over to escape his creditors ; a man whose imperious in- solence and unprincipled rapacity disgusted even the aristocratic party who were disposed to welcome him with incense, while his profligate and indecent manners provoked the general contempt. No one could possibly have been selected better fitted to unite all parties in determined resistance to a foreign yoke. Accordingly from the period of his administration the spirit of popular liberty made rapid progress in New York. In 1741, this city was frightened from its propriety by a supposed negro conspiracy. Two or three fires happening in quick succession, were at first attributed to accident alone, but when the number increased to nine, in almost as many days, popular suspicion was awakened, and at last rested on the negroes, who formed at that time nearly one-fifth of the population. The supreme court, at its ensuing meeting, strictly enjoined the grand jury to prosecute inquiries as to the incendiaries, when one Mary Burton, servant to a low fellow, at whose house the negroes met to indulge in debauchery, having been apprehended on suspicion, and moreover, stimulated by an offered reward of £100, made a confession the very absurdity of which would have demonstrated its falsehood, had the public prejudices been less deeply rooted. According to her statement, the negroes assembled at her master's house to concert measures for burning the city and exterminating the whites ; no less than twenty of them were accustomed to meet for this purpose, and they had as many as seven or eight guns, and as many swords, wherewith to effect their bloody purposes. Fresh informers now came forward, one of 2 £ A. D. 1699. 210 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, them being a servant in prison for theft, the other a notorious prostitute, and upon the information of this triumvirate, many negroes were thrown into prison, and, like those accused of witchcraft, terrified into false and incoherent confessions. When the trial came on, all the counsel in the city volunteered on behalf of the crown, while the accused were left to defend themselves. The issue could hardly be doubtful, out of one hundred and fifty-four negroes committed to prison, fourteen were burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, seventy-one transported, and the rest discharged for want of even such evi- dence, slender as it was, as had sufficed to convict their brethren. Among the victims was a Papist schoolmaster, said to be a priest in disguise, and accused of stimulating the negroes to this atrocious plot. He had been already committed under the act against Jesuits and Popish priests, and was now condemned and executed, calling upon God to witness his innocence of the crime attributed to him. So confident, however, were the people of its reality, that an inhabitant of New York published at the time a circumstantial account of the conspiracy. After the executions, and when the informers be- gan to inculpate the white citizens, a reaction began to take place, though it was long before the public mind was entirely disabused of this infatuation. The progress of Pennsylvania was in the mean time rapid, and its govern- ment became still more democratic in form. It would neither be easy nor profitable to detail the disputes that arose between the people and Penn ; such as, while human nature is imperfect, must inevitably spring up under similar circumstances. Penn listened favourably to the jealous demands of his people for a still further control over the political affairs of the province, but their treatment of his proprietary claims occasioned him much vexation and annoyance. He had expended so largely from his private fortune as to have fallen into embarrassment, yet the quit rents to which he looked for a return were found to be extremely difficult of collection. Unselfish himself, he was deeply pained at this exhibition of selfishness on the part of those to whom he had behaved in so liberal a spirit. The fall of his patron, James II., and the accession of William of Orange, naturally exposed him to much suspicion ; he was repeatedly imprisoned on the charge of corresponding with the banished monarch, and deprived of the government of Pennsylvania. His innocence however was so fully established, and his integrity respected, that he was soon restored to his rights, and in 1609, after an absence of fifteen years, revisited his beloved colony. He found it rapidly flourishing, and freely conceded such popular reforms as were required of him. Although he did not lift up his voice against the establishment of negro slavery, which indeed he had no power to prevent, he endeavoured to amend the moral and social condition of the negroes, by proposing a bill to secure to them the rights of legal marriage ; and although he was defeated, he yet persevered in inculcating a spirit which eventually led to the abolition of slavery in Pennsylvania in about half a century. Quitting Pennsylvania for the last time, he returned to England, where his latter days were overclouded with embarrassments, and harassed by pecuniary disputes with his distant people. Before his departure HISTORY OF AMERICA. 211 he had proposed the establishment of a new form of government, and in 1701, chat. presented one which was accepted by the assembly, who thereby acquired the right of originating bills, previously vested in the governor alone, and of to i7so. rejecting or amending any that might be laid before them. He was at length tempted to throw up a load too heavy for him. He had been already com- pelled to mortgage his government in order to obtain money, and he now prepared to enter into a contract for ceding the sovereignty of Pennsylvania to Queen Anne, but it was set aside by an attack of paralysis, which eventually, in 1717, terminated his existence. Beyond the reach of calumny and detrac- tion, the clouds that had obscured his fair fame were now dissipated, his great- ness of character and singleness of purpose were universally acknowledged, and his memory regarded with affectionate veneration. After the death of Penn his claims descended to his brother, and the same disputes were kept up between the assembly and proprietaries as before, and which continued to agitate the colony until the Revolution broke out; just before which period, Franklin, who had warmly advocated the popular cause, was despatched to England, to solicit on the part of the people the abolition of the proprietary government. The legislature of the province long remained in the hands of the Quakers, who responded but feebly to the demands for men and money to co-operate in maintaining the wars with the French. When called upon by the governor to levy a contingent of a hundred and fifty soldiers, they protested "with all humility, that they could not in conscience provide money to hire men to kill each other." They went so far however as to tender a present to her Majesty of £500, the application of which was left to her own conscience ; but this the governor declined to accept. Is was not until the last inter- colonial war in 1755, that the Quakers, who were still in the ascendant, were compelled, in consequence of the general excitement, and the ravage of their frontiers by the Indians, to vote a handsome sum for the avowed purpose of raising a military force, in which Franklin bore a commission. Many of them, upon this enforced violation of their principles, resigned their seats, and from this time their influence no longer preponderated in the colony. They persisted in declaring that the Indians had not been impelled to these attacks by any acts of theirs, but by wrongs and outrages on the part of others, for which pacific negotiation was the proper remedy ; and with this view they opened a conference with the Delawares, appointed Charles Thompson, afterward secretary to the Continental Congress, as assistant secretary to their chief, and succeeded, in some measure at least, in the object of their benevolent exertions. Since Bacon's rebellion nothing had occurred to disturb the tranquillity of Virginia, which continued its rapid increase in wealth and population. Little indeed appeared to a cursory observer to indicate the real importance of this province, which yet retained the appearance of a half-cleared wilderness. Few towns or villages had grown up as centres to the population, which was scattered abroad along the courses of the great rivers, dwelling in lonely log 2 e 2 £18 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1750. c h A R huts or rude cabins, and keeping up intercourse with one another by narrow horse paths through swamps and forests, or by boating up and down the numerous streams which intersect the country. The people lived a rude and joyous pastoral life, principally engaged in cultivating tobacco, and amusing themselves with the rifle in the woods ; hospitality was universal, and the few tavern bills a traveller was called to pay, were liquidated in rolls of tobacco. "We have already described the general state of society. A few wealthy planters resided in almost feudal pomp, and possessed almost feudal privi- leges over the indented servants and negro slaves who cultivated their vast estates. The favourite policy of Berkeley, that of depressing education, lest it should bring with it a spirit of innovation and discontent, was yielding to the spirit of the age ; yet while the other colonies were acquiring a free press, it was long ere a single newspaper brought tidings of the world to the solitary hut of the Virginian, and when the parishes of the ministry extended over miles of wilderness he did not very often visit the church. Derived from an aristocratic stem, the province was remarkable for its loyalty ; but loyalty to a distant monarch whose smile or frown is never to be hoped or dreaded, soon becomes a merely traditional feeling in the breasts of those who feel them- selves the real sovereigns of the soil. The progress of the Carolinas was rapid, the introduction of the staples of rice and indigo had vastly enriched the colonies, and the planters acquired great wealth. From their central position, they were but little affected by the first intercolonial war. In 1706, Charleston, which had now increased to a considerable town, successfully repulsed an attack by the French and Spani- ards, and was threatened with a more formidable one the following year, by DTberville, which was frustrated by his death in the West Indies. The Church of England had, after some opposition, become established. The settlement of Georgia, the last colony founded before the Revo- lution, has already been briefly narrated. After the return of Oglethorpe to England, the settlers succeeded in their desired object of the establishment of slavery. The progress of the colony was for a long while exceedingly slow and discouraging, and in 1752, the charter was surrendered, and Georgia, like Carolina, received a governor from the crown. Turning from the British colonies, let us now briefly trace the progress made by those of France. The termination of her long-protracted hostilities with the Five Nations, opened to her an uninterrupted egress to the bound- less regions of the Far West. The vivid descriptions given of its green prairies and genial climate, by the unfortunate La Salle, now induced many to resort thither from the colder and more stubborn region of Canada, by the way first traversed by Marquette in 1673, and afterwards by La Salle him- self, and by the straits of Mackinaw, to the mouth of the St. Joseph river of Michigan, and to Chicago creek of Illinois, whence they passed over the dividing ridge to the head branches of the Illinois river. Some of the old companions of La Salle and Tonti had remained there, and small communities had gradually been formed on the Illinois and Mississippi. The missionaries A. D. 1<*3. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 213 had pushed their station as high as Peoria Lake, on the north, and to Red chap. River on the south. Kaskasia had become a populous village, while in , lh 1701, La Motte Cadillac, with a hundred followers, laid the foundation of a new settlement at Detroit. On all sides the French were rapidly extending their establishments and their influence. A bold and successful effort was now made to renew La Salle's project for colonizing the Mississippi by the Canadian, D'Iberville, who had distin- guished himself in the recent war with England, and was greatly regarded as an experienced and distinguished commander. With two frigates, and some smaller vessels carrying about two hundred colonists, for the most part disbanded military, and accompanied by his brothers Sauvolle and Bienville, men of merit akin to his own, on the 24th September, 1698, he sailed from La Rochelle, and touched at St. Domingo, whence he was escorted by an additional ship of war as far as the shores of Louisiana. On arriving in the Bay of Pensacola, he found himself forestalled by the Spaniards, who, jealous of French encroachments upon a territory to which they still laid claim, had hastened to occupy this advantageous position. Proceeding to the westward, he landed on Ship Island, off the mouth of the Pascagoula, and on the 27th of February set off in quest of the great river St. Louis, or, as it had been lately called by the French, the " Hidden- River." In two large barges, each carrying twenty-four men, and commanded by himself and his brother Bienville, he moved westward along the coast, passing the Balize ; and on the 22nd of March, entering a wide river flowing into the sea, which Father Athenase, who had accompanied La Salle on his unfortunate voyage, declared to be the true St. Louis. Its deep and turbid flood, bearing on its surface vast quantities of floating timber, the spoils of the western forests, seemed to point it out at once and unmistakeably as the mighty father of the western floods. D'Iberville, who had expected to have found a more expansive out- let, at first had his doubts, but they were entirely dispelled as he proceeded further up the majestic stream, and beheld in the hands of the Indians the painful traces of his unfortunate predecessors in enterprise. The first was a portion of a Spanish coat of mail, a relic of Soto's expedition ; the second, a letter written by Tonti to La Salle. From this document, which had been carefully preserved by the Indians, it appeared that Tonti with a body of men had descended the Mississippi from Illinois, to meet La Salle on his expected arrival from France, but after long and vain research, had returned disheartened to his post. After exploring the country, D'Iberville returned by the Manipac pass, and through Lakes Maurepas and Pontchartrain, and rejoined his companions on Ship Island — the first explorer who had ever ascended the Mississippi from the sea. On the sandy and desolate shore of Biloxi, a spot about eighty miles north-east from the present city of New Orleans, exposed to the fierce heat of a tropical sun, he settled his followers, erected a fort with four bastions and twelve cannon, and leaving his brothers in command, returned to France to seek for reinforcements to his successful enterprise. 214 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. In addition to the difficulties arising out of uncongenial soil and climate, n the French had to encounter the opposition of the Spanish and English, to ' what they regarded as an encroachment. But the accession of a Bourbon prince to the throne of Spain set aside the pretensions of the Spaniards, nor were those of the English destined to be effectively asserted. Father Henne- pin, who had accompanied La Salle in his exploration of the Mississippi, and who had falsely claimed to have anticipated that adventurer in his descent of the river, had been taken into the pay of William III., who expressed his firm determination to plant a Protestant colony on the spot. The patent for settling the vast province of Carolina, which, as before stated, had been granted by Charles II., had been purchased by one Coxe, a London physician, who had succeeded in getting two armed vessels sent out to assert his visionary claim. As Bienville returned from a visit to the Indians, he encountered one of these hostile ships, a corvette of twelve guns, ascending the Mississippi. He sent a flag on board assuring the British commander that he was within the limits of a country discovered and settled by the French, and that there were strong defences a few miles farther up the river. Overawed by this threat, or, as others assert, deceived by an assurance that the river he was sailing in was not the Mississippi, the English commander tacked about and returned at a spot which, from this incident, still retains the appellation of the " English Turn." But though relieved from this apprehension, and in spite of the most energetic efforts, the colony maintained but a languishing existence. A body of fugitive French Protestants had landed in Carolina from the English vessels, and now requested permission to remove to the Mississippi, and settle under their national flag ; but the French monarch repelled them with the unfeeling de- claration, that he had not expelled the Huguenots from France to allow them to form a republic in Louisiana. They had little cause for regret, as the sickliness of the situation soon cut off the larger portion of the emigrants. The fortress was now transferred from Biloxi to Mobile. DTberville also built a new fort near Poverty Point, where he was joined by the veteran Tonti, with whom he now proceeded on a voyage up the Mississippi, and being pleased with his reception by the tribes of Natchez Indians, he founded on a bold eminence above the river, a settlement called Rosalie, after the Countess of Pontchartrain, the site of the present city of Natchez. But the health of DTberville was broken with his successive explorations and voyages, and he died at Havana on his return from another voyage to France with a force intended for the reduction of Charleston. Louisiana, as boundless in its ideal limits (which were made to include the Mississippi valley and its tributaries, and all the country westward to the Rio del Norte) as it had hitherto proved unfortunate in actual progress, was soon afterwards assigned to Anthony Crozat, a wealthy French merchant, who established a monopoly of its commerce, so unprofitable both to himself and the settlers, that he speedily resigned his charter. Although some progress had been made by Bienville in conciliating the Natchez Indians, by HISTORY OF AMERICA. 215 whose assistance he had erected Fort Rosalie upon the spot marked out by c ha p. DTberville, Louisiana still continued in a very depressed state. But ■ while thus struggling for existence, it became, by a singular illusion, the ideal source whence boundless opulence might be derived. The celebrated paper system of Law had just been established.in France, and to the Company of the West, otherwise called the Mississippi Company, which had been established under his auspices, the monopoly of Louisianian enterprise was now transferred. The shares were eagerly bought up, visions of tropical wealth, of gold and silver mines, and boundless territorial acquisitions, agitated and duped the credulous public. This excitement had however the immediate effect of promoting the settlement of the country. By the terms of their grant, the Company were bound to send out a large body of emigrants and negroes, and in August, 1718, two vessels arrived with a body of eight hundred men. Bienville foreseeing the future importance of a commercial capital to the vast valley of the Mississippi, determined to found a city on the borders of the river, though in the midst of a marshy and unhealthy country, which from the regent of France received the name of NEW ORLEANS ; which, to use the words of Bancroft, " was famous at Paris as a beautiful city almost before the cane-brakes were cut down, and which for some years consisted of but a hand- ful of dwellings." Law had reserved for himself the grant of an extensive tract, upon which he located a colony of Germans. During the bubble pros- perity of the paper system, money was lavishly expended in promoting enter- prise in Louisiana; but with the bursting of the scheme, these foreign re- sources as suddenly ceased, and the settlers, who were dependent upon them, reduced to great distress. Instead of the visionary wealth of which they had dreamed, they now beheld the actual difficulties of their situation, in a low swampy country, exposed to the fierce beams of a tropical sun, and almost entirely indebted to slave labour for the cultivation of the soil. A military and religious establishment was kept up, but the progress of the colony for a long time was but slow. Serious difficulties also arose with the neighbouring Indians. The Natchez tribe, who had at first amicably received the French, and in whose territory Fort Rosalie had been erected, now became jealous of their growing demands for territory, and instructed by the Chickasaw tribes, and falling suddenly upon the Fort, massacred all the male inhabitants and carried away the women and children into slavery, but were shortly after- wards successfully repulsed. The Chickasaws, who traded with the English, and were instigated by them, attacked the French boats on the Mississippi, and defied several attempts made for their subjugation. A communication was nevertheless maintained with Canada by way of the Mississippi and Lake Michigan, as also by the Wabash river. 216 HISTORY OF AMERICA. CHAPTER III. GENERAL VIEW OF THE COLONIES BEFORE THE REVOLUTION.— POLITICAL CONDITION. — RELIGION. —EDUCATION. — THE PRESS.— SLAVERY.— STATE OF THE TOWNS AND COUNTRY.— MILITIA.— CUR- RENCY.— POST OFFICE, ETC. chap. Before entering upon the narrative of the war which wrested Canada from J — the French, let us pause to take a brief survey of the general condition of the to i>50?° different States from that important period up to the revolution. Notwith- standing the widely different origin of the various colonists, the circumstances in which they were placed were so similar, that the same general form of charac- ter must inevitably have developed itself, and produced a growing consciousness of power and impatience of foreign restraint. The giant child of freedom had indeed burst its swaddling-bands, and was ready to walk in its own unassisted strength. The proximate independence of America was already a matter of certainty, although her gradual growth had veiled the truth from the eyes of English statesmen. The causes which were to produce a final rupture were already at work, though their full operation was delayed for a while by the want of union among the different provinces, and by their hereditary at- tachment to the parent country, under whose wings they had grown up, by whose arms they had been sheltered, by whose commerce, in spite of jealous restrictions, they were enriched, whose manners they affectionately cherished, and whose fashions they delighted to copy. This conflicting state of feeling — a growing desire of independence, and a no less warm attachment to the mo- ther country — may still be traced until the period of the declaration of inde- pendence. Not that the hereditary love of England was equally strong in all parts of America — witness the language of an acute observer, Feter Kalm, who visited New York in 1748. " The English colonies in this part of the world," he observes, " have increased so much in wealth and population, that they will vie with European England. But to maintain the commerce and the power of the metropolis, they are forbid to establish new manufactures which might compete with the English ; they may dig for gold and silver only on condition of shipping them immediately to England ; they have, with the exception of a few fixed places, no liberty to trade to any parts not be- longing to the English dominions ; and foreigners are not allowed the least commerce with these American colonies. And there are many similar restric- tions. These oppressions have made the inhabitants of the English colonies less tender towards their mother land. This coldness is increased by the many foreigners who are settled among them; for Dutch, Germans, and French are here blended with English, and have no special love for Old HISTORY OF AMERICA. 217 England. Besides, some people are always discontented and love change; chap. and exceeding freedom and prosperity nurse an untameable spirit. I have ■ — been told not only by native Americans, but by English emigrants, publicly, to 1750. that, within thirty or fifty years, the English colonies in North America may constitute a separate state entirely independent of England. But, as this whole country is towards the sea unguarded, and on the frontier is kept un- easy by the French, these dangerous neighbours are the reason why the love of these colonies for their metropolis does not utterly decline. The English government has therefore to regard the French in North America as the chief power that urges their colonies to submission." The same view, as we shall hereafter see, was taken by the French themselves. John Adams, when a youth not quite twenty, cast a penetrating glance into futurity. " Soon after the Reformation," he says, " a few people came over into this new world for conscience' sake. Perhaps this apparently trivial circumstance may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely to me, for if we can remove the turbulent Gallics, our people, according to the exactest computa- tions, will in another century become more numerous than England itself. Should this be the case, since we have, I may say, all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain the mastery of the seas, and then the united force of Europe will not be able to subdue us. The only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves is to disunite us." A few quotations from the most philosophical of modern historians — M. Guizot — may serve as a brief recapitulation of the political part of the preced- ing pages, and show the relative position of Britain and America at this period. " It is the honour of England that she had deposited in the cradle of her colonies — the germ of their freedom. Nearly all, at their foundation, or shortly after, received charters which conferred the franchises of the mother country on the colonists." " And these charters were not a vain display or dead letter, for they estab- lished or allowed powerful institutions which impelled the colonists to defend their liberty, and to control power by participating in it — the grant of sup- plies, the election of great public councils, trial by jury, the right of as- sembling and of discussing the general affairs." " Thus the history of the colonies is only the more practical and laborious development of the spirit of liberty flourishing under the standard of the laws and traditions of the country. It might be considered the history of England herself. A resemblance the more striking, as the colonies of America, at least the greatest number and the most considerable of them, were founded or in- creased the most rapidly at the very epoch when England was getting ready for, or already sustained against the pretensions of absolute power, those fierce conflicts which were to obtain for her the honour of giving to the world the first example of a great nation free and well governed. ^ " From 1578 to 1704, under Elizabeth, James L, Charles I., the Long Par- liament, Cromwell, Charles II., James II., William III., and Queen Anne, the charters of Virginia, of Massachusetts, of Maryland, of Carolina, of New 2 p 218 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C ni. P ' York, were by turns recognised, disputed, restrained, enlarged, lost, acquired A ' D 17C0 back again, incessantly exposed to those vicissitudes which are the conditions to 1750. and even the essence of liberty, for free nations can only pretend to peace in victory." He then well observes, that strife was rendered inevitable by the disorder subsisting between the elements of government. " In the cradle of the English colonies, side by side with their liberties, and consecrated by the same charters, three different powers came into contact: the crown, the proprietary founders, companies or individuals, and the mother coun- try. The crown, by virtue of the monarchical principle, with its tra- ditions flowing from the church and the empire. The proprietary founders, to whom a concession of the territory was made, by virtue of the feudal prin- ciple which attaches to property a considerable portion of sovereignty. The mother country, by virtue of the colonial principle, which, in all times and amongst all nations, by a natural sequence of facts and ideas, has attributed to the metropolis a great empire over the populations sprung from its bosom. " From the beginning, and in events as in charters, the confusion amongst these powers was extreme, by turns dominant or lowered, united or divided, sometimes protecting the colonists and their franchises one against the other, sometimes attacking them in concert. In the midst of these confusions and vicissitudes all found titles to invoke, facts to allege in support of their acts and of their pretensions. " In the middle of the seventeenth century, when the monarchical principle was in England overcome in the person of Charles I., for awhile it might have been thought that the colonies would use the opportunity to shake off her sway. Indeed, some of them, Massachusetts above all, peopled by haughty Puritans, showed symptoms of a desire, if not to break every tie with the me- tropolis, at least to govern themselves alone and by their own laws. But. the Long Parliament, in the name of the colonial principle, and also in virtue of the rights of the crown which it inherited, maintained with moderation the British supremacy. Cromwell, in his turn, heir of the Long Parliament, exerted its power more signally, and by a skilful and firm protection, prevented or re- pressed in the colonies, whether Royalist or Puritan, those feeble yearnings after independence. " This was an easy task for him. At this epoch the colonies were feeble and divided. Towards 1640, Virginia counted only three or four thousand in- habitants, and in 1660, hardly thirty thousand. Maryland had at most twelve thousand. In these two provinces the royalist party was in the ascendency, and Avelcomed the restoration with joy. In Massachusetts, on the contrary, the general feeling was republican; the fugitive regicides, Goffe and Whalley, found favour and protection there ; and when at last the local administration found itself obliged to proclaim Charles II., it interdicted on the same day all uproarious demonstrations, all festivity, even to drink the king's health. " In such a state of things there was not yet either the moral unity or the material force which are necessary to lay the foundations of a state. J HISTORY OF AMERICA. 219 "After 1688, when England had finally achieved a free government, its chap. colonies partook but slightly of the benefits. The charters which Charles II. and James II. had abolished or mutilated, were only partially restored to ^^vJ" them. The same confusion reigned, the same struggle for sway continued. The greater part of the governors, sent from Europe, brief depositories of the royal prerogatives and pretensions, displayed them with more haughtiness than power in an administration in general incoherent, shifty, not very effi- cient, often rapacious, more occupied with selfish quarrels than with the interests of the country. " Besides, it was no longer with the crown alone, but with the crown and the metropolis united, that the colonists had to do. Their real sovereign was no longer the king, but the king and the people of Great Britain, represented and blended in parliament. And the parliament regarded the colonies al- most with the same eye, and held the same language with regard to them, which those kings whom it had vanquished had formerly affected towards the parliament itself. An aristocratic senate is the most difficult of masters. All possess the supreme power in it, and no one is responsible for its action." There could be but one solution of this difficult problem, and that — the independence of the colonists. In tracing their political progress, we have constantly before us the collision of two elements alluded to in the outset ; the tendency to self-government natural to men so situated, and the vain endeavour by the mother country to curb this tendency, and to restrict their growth within the limits required by a short-sighted policy. These opposite tendencies, inherently contradictory, could only be har- monized so long as the colonies remained feeble and threatened by French hostilities ; and at the height of wealth and power they had now reached, the difficulty of maintaining them in a state of subserviency became every day more manifest to far-seeing politicians. In this relative position of England and her dependencies the office of governor for the crown, essentially a false and painful one, became more and more embarrassing. Regarding him with jealousy as the asserter of an ill-defined prerogative, which tended to check their own freedom of action, the constant study of the local assemblies was to keep the minister of royal power in a state of humiliating dependence on their own authority, to vote him only a temporary supply, and thus to force him into a compliance with their demands ; and while, on the other hand, the home government were urging him by every means to maintain the royal supremacy, they were generally unwilling or unable to invest him with the necessary power to do so. Under trials such as these, poor Burnet had died of a broken heart ; some sunk into compliance with the popular will, " taking every thing and granting every thing ; " while others, irritated at the con- tinual opposition of the colonists, denounced them as factious to the govern- ment, and accused them of a steady design by little and little to throw off the last vestiges of an allegiance that was already merely nominal. Nor can we be surprised that such should have been the uniform tenor, if not the avowed pur- pose, of the colonial legislators. With the instinct of liberty they struggled 2*2 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, against the imposition of a yoke which was every day becoming more in- ■ — tolerable and unsuitable to their circumstances, by labouring in every way to to 1V50. grasp into their own hands the real legislative and executive power of their country, and to reduce the exercise of royal power to an empty form. It was in Massachusetts that this stubborn tenacity of purpose, this jealous watch- fulness and persevering agitation against even the. slightest encroachment, this subtlety to watch for and improve opportunities of gradually extending its own influence, and of nullifying that of the English government, was most con- spicuously displayed, because a sense of liberty and a shrewdness of intellect were the peculiar characteristics of her people, and because she had grown up at the first under a system of self-government. But the whole colonies were infected with the same spirit long before the breaking out of the Revolution. Looking from the colonists to the home government, it is evident that no regular and systematic plan was ever followed, either to remove the restric- tions that were felt to be galling, or to enforce on the other hand a more de- cided dependence on the king and parliament, even had such measures been within the power of England to adopt. Engaged in domestic affairs, she be- stowed comparatively but little attention on her colonies, which were by turns capriciously neglected or oppressed, their giant growth overlooked, and the capacity and courage of their citizens contemptuously underrated. How- ever some might believe that they desired to throw off the yoke of the mother country, few imagined that they would have the hardihood to try, or should they make the attempt, that it would require more than a slight exhibition of the national power, speedily to reduce them within the limits of dependency. We have already alluded to the establishment of the Board of Trade. This body were continually complaining that " the chartered colonies evaded the force of parliamentary enactments by making by-laws of their own, that they encouraged contraband trade and domestic manufactures, thereby injuring the monopoly of the mother country ; and as the only effectual remedy, proposed the resumption of their charters, and the imposition of such a system of ad- ministration as shall make them duly subservient to England;" and a bill was accordingly brought into parliament for this object. But the strenuous opposition made by the colonists to a scheme which would have deprived them of the almost practical independence which they enjoyed, caused it eventually to be laid aside. In 1702, the Jersey proprietors however ceded their rights of sovereignty to the crown. After the accession of the House of Hanover, when the functions of the Board of Trade were almost superseded by the secre- taryship of the colonies, other attempts were made to enact a bill for regulating the chartered governments. The disputes between the proprietaries of South Carolina and their colonists, who invoked the interference of the crown, furn- ished a welcome opportunity for vacating the charter, which was accord- ingly done, and a royal governor appointed, who however soon found that the assembly left to him little more than the shadow of power. The population of the States had reached a million at the accession of the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 221 House of Hanover ; and it is remarkable that Pennsylvania, which, had ap- chap. pcared but so recently on the list of States, owing to the absence of those ' — difficulties with which the other States had to contend, had increased in pro- to iVso. portion far more rapidly than any other. Although no exact estimate of the value of the colonial trade can be given, owing to the clandestine violation of the laws of trade, no register of which could be expected, it is supposed that the total value of exports must have amounted to not less than ten millions of dollars. Great Britain engrossed the principal share of this trade ; that to the West Indies came next ; that with the Spanish colonies of South America, forbidden both by English and Spanish enactments, was most profitable in proportion to its amount. The restrictions imposed by English jealousy and cupidity upon this vast and increasing commerce and manufactures of the colonies, were the frequent source of bitter dissatisfaction, and the certain cause of a rupture that could not much longer be delayed. Upon complaint of the Board of Trade, that the colonial manufactures of wool and iron, paper, hats, and leather, were highly prejudicial to the home trade, the most unjust and vexatious restrictions were placed upon them. In regard, therefore, to commercial as to political disabilities, we cannot be surprised that there should have been the same persevering dis- position to evade or ignore them ; that the customs' agents were regarded with such dislike as to have complained that even their lives were not always safe in enforcing obnoxious regulations ; that the colonists, who regarded the English merchants as unjust and grasping, should have been less punctual in the liquidation of their claims, and the protection of their interests, than in the case of their own brethren, and that they should have laid a tax upon British imports and ships. This state of things was becoming insupportable to the Americans ; and the general feeling well appears in a private letter from a citizen of Boston to the Marquis de Montcalm, governor of Canada : " We shall soon break with England" he says, " for commercial considerations" It had always been a special instruction given by the Americans to their agents in England, to oppose, by every means in their power, any measure which might tend, however remotely, to impose direct taxation upon the colonies. During the war of 1739, with Spain, such a scheme was proposed to Walpole, who replied as follows : — " I will leave that for some of my suc- cessors who may have more courage than I have, and be less a friend to com- merce than I am. Nay," he continued, " it has been necessary to pass over some irregularities of their trade with Europe, for by encouraging them to an extensive foreign growing commerce, if they gain £500,000, I am con- vinced that, in two years afterwards, full £ 250,000 of their gains will be in his Majesty's exchequer, by the labour and product of this kingdom, as im- mense quantities of every kind go thither, and as they increase in their foreign American trade, more of our produce will be wanted. This is taxing them more agreeably to their own constitution and to ours." But this policy of a liberal and far-seeing minister was contrary to the narrow notions then prevailing with respect to commercial monopoly and colonial dependency. 222 HISTORY OF AMERICA. It has been well observed, that America became a place of refuge for the different extremes of sectarianism which were driven from the old world, where their asperities became gradually softened, and their peculiarities mo- dified, and their professors fused together into one great commonwealth. Re- ligious enthusiasm had founded New England, and under the conduct of its theocracy it had been safely nursed through the perils that threatened its childhood. But the exclusive influence of the rigid Puritans was much weak- ened by the toleration of other sects, which had been forced upon them by the English government, by a natural reaction against the extreme rigour of their principles and manners, and by the influence of philosophic progress in Europe. Even before the witchcraft delusion, in which the clergy had taken so prominent a part, many were their complaints of the growing Sadduceeism and latitudinarianism of the times, by which not a few even of their own body gradually became infected, until, whilst they still preserved in the pulpit the language of the old system, which the people were accustomed to hear, they secretly put upon it a latitudinarian construction, which it would have been imprudent openly to avow. From this period religion no longer exercised a predominating influence in political affairs, nor shaped after its own exclusive fashion the morals and manners of the community, although the mass of the people still retained their Serious bias. The growing wealth of New England, and her intercourse with the mother country and foreign states, gradually introduced a more liberal way of thinking, with the arts and elegancies of polished life. The early days of re- ligious persecution were looked back upon with regret, and differing sects were fast learning to live together in harmony. The Quakers were no longer the same fierce and noisy enthusiasts, whose introduction into the colony had oc- casioned such sanguinary scenes ; but while they still retained the broad and distinctive features of their creed, as if ashamed of their former ebullitions, had subsided into that quiet and peaceable demeanour, and that sober respect- ability, of which Penn himself was the type, and which have ever since re- mained the characteristic features of their body. The older divines were fast dropping off. Cotton Mather, whose name has repeatedly occurred in connexion with the maintenance of orthodoxy and the prosecutions for witchcraft, died in 1729, in the sixty-fifth year of his age. He was a pattern of serious piety, a perfect storehouse of school divinity, and his writings, quaint and pedantic in style, were proportionally voluminous ; but his confidence and conceit were boundless ; and, to use the expressive words of one of his brethren, " lie believed more and discriminated less " than belongs to a writer of history. In 1710, a Quaker meeting-house was erected in Boston. Episcopalianism also, once so odious, had now acquired a legitimate footing, and more than one church for that form of worship was now erected in Boston. This creed also began to infect even some of the theocratic party, Cullen, principal of Yale college, proving a convert. With a view to check this tendency, no less than " the great and visible decay of piety," the orthodox ministry peti- A. D. 1700 to 1750. HISTORY OF AMERICA. tioned for a synod, but, owing to tlje influence of the Episcopalians, were un- c ha p. able to succeed in their object. An abortive attempt had even been made by the " Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts " to introduce an episcopal hierarchy, as in the southern colonies. These attempts to pro- pagate episcopal government gave bitter offence to the theocratic clergy, and in the impending struggle, naturally inclined them to promote the cause of in- dependence. Indeed, among the grievances cited by the Bostonians in their quarrel with England, that of endeavouring to plant Episcopacy in New Eng- gland was afterwards distinctly mentioned. The growing latitudinarianism of the age received, however, a check, by the strenuous exertions of Whitfield and others of his stamp, and a consider- able reaction towards the old system, or, to use the proper word, " a great revival," took place among the churches. It is in connexion with this move- ment we find the name of Jonathan Edwards, one of the greatest intellects that America has ever produced. Fervent in his religious feelings, his intel- lectual faculties, which were of the highest order, were occupied in the de- fence of the Calvinistic doctrines, and in reconciling the denial of the moral ability of man with the assertion of his moral accountableness. His " In- quiry into the Freedom of the "Will " has been pronounced " one of the greatest efforts of the human mind." Another remarkable divine of the same class was David Brainerd, who laboured most devotedly as a missionary among the Indians, and, worn out with toils and privations, died in the flower of manhood. But the principal agent in promoting this resuscitation of piety, and in laying the foundation of Calvinistic Methodism in America, was Whit- field himself, the contemporary of Wesley, whose visit to Georgia has been al- ready described. Whitfield's purpose in coming over was the foundation of an orphan-house for destitute children in Georgia, for which he had collected con- siderable sums. Having successfully founded this establishment, he proceeded to visit the northern colonies, where the fire and energy of his character pro- duced the greatest excitement. Wesley, notwithstanding his profound enthusi- asm, was calm, grave, and reverend in appearance, rational and persuasive in his manner of discourse. Whitfield was vehement and passionate in his style of preaching, his gestures were striking and animated, his eye flashed with almost supernatural lustre, and the torrent of his eloquence irresistibly carried away all who heard him. Wesley was in tenets an Arminian — Whitfield a Calvinist. Wesley appealed to the judgment — Whitfield to the feelings of his audience. Ay hile, rapt out of himself, he triumphantly proclaimed the triumphs of Divine grace over the stubborn heart of man, his hearers, unable to restrain their emotions, would burst forth in sobs of agony or, songs. of thanksgiving, their frames would become convulsed under the powerful emotions which had taken possession of their souls. The infection spread rapidly ; itinerant preachers, calling themselves " New Lights," ran every where about the land, singing processions and revivalist meetings were seen on all sides. The orthodox ministers, as in England itself, strenuously opposed themselves to the prevail- ing excitement, and some attempts were made at suppressing it by enactments, 224: HISTORY OF AMERICA. C ?n P ' Dut * n vam — a ^ sects caught something of the prevailing enthusiasm, and the D 1700 slumbering churches were quickened into new life and activity. Whitfield to 1750. visited the colonies several times, and died and was buried there in 1770. The progress of education was highly satisfactory, being far more generally diffused than in the mother country herself. At the time of the revolution several colleges had been founded in the colonies. Free-schools were established in Massachusetts soon after the establishment of the colony, and to this measure was in a great extent owing the superior moral and intellectual character of her citizens. The north always took the lead in educational establishments. The foundation of Harvard college was noticed in a previous chapter. In 1701, a school for the education of ministers was established at Saybrook, where a scheme of doctrine and church government had been agreed on, known as the Saybrook platform, which brought the churches of Connecticut into a Presbyterian form. This estab- lishment afterwards received great benefactions from the Hon. Elihu Yale, a distinguished son of Connecticut, who had gone over to England when young, acquired a large fortune in India, when he became governor of Fort St. George, an,d was chosen governor of the East India Company. To this college Bishop Berkeley also, notwithstanding his Episcopalian principles, presented his library and estate in America. We should not here omit to notice one who exercised considerable influence in the cause of learning and the humanities. Berkeley has attained universal renown as the author of a celebrated treatise on the non-existence of matter, a theory which nobody believes in, and which nobody, it is said, has ever been able to refute. Visionary as he might be in the region of metaphysical ab- stractions, and, as Swift satirically called him, " an absolute philosopher with regard to money, titles, and power ; " the simplicity and purity of his charac- ter justified the well-known eulogium of Pope, ascribing to him " every virtue under heaven." Cherished at home in the most refined circles, and wealthy in a deanery worth £ 1100 a year, his expansive benevolence sought for a wide field of action abroad, and he%proposed to the ministry a project for founding a college in Bermuda for the education of missionaries, to convert the Indians. Of this college he offered, resigning his preferment, to become rector, on a salary of a hundred a year. Having obtained a vote of £ 10,000 of the House of Commons, he crossed over to Rhode Island, settling in the vicinity of the little town of Newport, afterwards the residence of Channing, where he bought a farm, and resided for two years and a half, with a view of making arrangements for the, supply of his projected establishment. Here he often preached in the Episcopal church, to which he presented an organ, and in this rural retirement he penned, it is said, his Minute Philosopher. The virtues and accomplishments of such a man had no small effect in diffusing the love of knowledge, and a taste for social refinement, amidst the colonists, with whose unaffected good qualities and calm existence he was charmed. His enthusiasm was awakened by the vigorous freshness of American society, and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 225 the boundless prospect opening before it; and he here indited those celebrated chap. verses, which have proved, in some respects at least, remarkably prophetic. A. D. 1700 to 1750. " In happy climes, the seat of innocence, Where nature guides, and virtue rules ; Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools ; There shall be sung another golden age, The rise of empire and of arts ; The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts. Not such as Europe breeds in her decay : Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung. Westward the course of empire takes its way : The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; Time's noblest offspring is the last." Disappointed of the promised support of government, Berkeley, bestowing his farm and library upon Yale college, though under the exclusive control of a denomination opposed to his own, returned to England, where he was shortly afterwards promoted to the bishopric of Cloyne. A high school was established at Philadelphia in 1689, to which a charter was granted by Penn. New York was less active in the work of education ; and it was not till 1748 that a college called " King's " was founded. About the same time Princeton college in New Jersey was established. Maryland had organized county schools about twenty years before. Virginia was always backward in general education ; and a greater laxity of morals prevailed there. The first college in that state owed its origin to the zeal of James Blair, commissary of the bishop of London, who founded it by the assistance of King William, and other patrons, chiefly for the education of a succession of Episcopalian ministers, although many Indians were also taught there, in whose behalf the celebrated Robert Boyle made a liberal donation. Education was sometimes coeval with the first opening of a road or clearing of the forest. Dartmouth college originated just before the revolution, in an Indian mission school at Lebanon, under the care of Dr. Wheelock, which attracted considerable attention, and drew subscribers even from England. This school was afterwards removed to Hanover, where the doctor resided in a log-hut while teaching his Indian neophytes, half of whom, however, re- turned to the savage life, for which they had an unconquerable bias. En- larging then the number of his white missionaries, and retaining but a few Indians, he founded Dartmouth college. His family, who travelled in a coach 2 G I 226 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ch^ap. which had been presented to him by a London friend, had the greatest dif- A — ficulty in making their way to the spot, an extensive plain almost covered to irao. with lofty pines, with but one or two log-huts, and not another habitation within two miles of dreary forest. The Doctor, having collected his family and scholars, amounting to seventy persons, hastily began to erect habitations to shelter them from the impending winter, which soon overtook them in all its rigour. So tall and thick were the pines around their little clearing, that the sun was invisible for hours, and while still and piercing cold below, the tops of the trees were seen bending under the fury of the tempest, while for four or five months the snow lay five feet deep around, through which they had to cut and keep open paths of communication from hut to hut. There the Doctor passed the long and dreary winter with his pupils, sustaining his own spirits and theirs by referring to the smile of Heaven that had so evi- dently prospered their labours, and by calling to mind the prophet Elisha, who, by Divine direction, and in circumstances that to his pious mird offered a remarkable analogy, had founded in the wilderness of the Jorda~ a school for training the prophets of the Lord. The press, that mighty engine of progress, though shackled ev a few miles of Quebec. The English garrison under General Murray had dwindled by sickness to* three thousand men, but with this handful of brave men he boldly marched out to attack a body of three times their number. After a hard-fought action he was compelled to abandon his artillery, and retire within the walls. De Levi soon erected his batteries, and opened a heavy fire on the walls, but Murray had succeeded in mounting so numerous an artillery that the French guns were almost silenced. A British fleet soon after made its appear- ance, and compelled De Levi to retire to Montreal, at which city the Marquis de Vandreuil, concentrating his remaining forces, determined to make a last stand for the defence of Canada. The struggle however was speedily over. No sooner had the season for operations arrived, than Amherst advanced with an army of ten thousand regulars and provincials, and being joined by Johnson at Oswego with one thousand Indians, made his appearance, before Montreal on the very day that Murray, advancing from Quebec, landed within a few miles of the city ; while the next day appeared Colonel Haviland, from Crown Point. As these combined forces rendered resistance impossible, the French governor capitu- lated, and the whole of Canada was surrendered to the British crown. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 277 Nothing could exceed the exultation of the northern colonies at this c ha p. lonsr-desired consummation of a struc^le which had continued for so manv o no A. D. 17C0 years, and involved their frontiers in a desolating warfare. Their boundaries ' iwi. too received an immense expansion, New York claiming, by virtue of treaties with the Six Nations, the whole territory northward to the St. Lawrence, and westward to the great lakes, while the New England States were free to advance northward and eastward without any further check. But above all, by the conquest of the French, who had so long kept them in a state of con- tinual alarm, the colonists beheld themselves virtual masters of the entire con- tinent, and their sense of dependence upon the mother country was propor- tionably weakened, at the same time that military habits and feelings had been greatly fostered among them by the recent wars. During these struggles between the French and English, the Indians, whom they had engaged in the dispute, were gradually lessening in numbers, while upon pretext of difTerent treaties artfully extorted from them, or made with- out any regard to their claims, they were more and more pushed from the old hunting-grounds of their fathers. The formidable Six Nations, who had so long braved the power of the French, now became less prominent in the American annals. Many of the tribes hostile to the English retired to Canada, while the Penobscots submitted to the English. After the reduction of Fort Duquesne, the Cherokees, who had acted as allies to the English, had become involved in quarrels with them. The origin of the quarrel is doubtful, but probably arose from encroachment, or hasty revenge, on the part of the whites. It is said that the Cherokees seized upon some horses which they found running wild through the woods, but which in reality belonged to Virginian owners, and that the latter, supposing it to be a theft, killed twelve or four- teen of them ; an outrage deeply resented by the Indians, who, inflamed by French influence, were led to believe that the English meditated their entire extermination. Accordingly they fell, in their cruel fashion, upon the ex- posed frontiers. On hearing that Governor Littleton was preparing to march against them, they sent a deputation to Charleston to negociate a peace. Lit- tleton, however, determined to strike terror into the Cherokees, by marching into their territories with a large force ; but being compelled to fall back, was glad to accept the offer he had lately spurned, and shortly afterwards con- cluded a peace with the Indians. It was not long, however, before fresh disputes broke out, and the Cherokees, raising a considerable body of warriors, awaited the attack of the English with a determined spirit. An express was sent to General Amherst, who de- tached some troops under Colonel Montgomery to the relief of the Carolinians. Strengthened by their militia, he marched into the Cherokee country, re- lieved Fort Prince George, which they had blockaded, and ravaged all the Indian settlements on his way. Finding the Cherokees rather inflamed than intimidated by these proceedings, he advanced to Etchoe, their capital, not far from whence they had posted themselves to oppose his further progress. In doing so he had to pass through a hollow valley covered with brushwood, 278 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ( ! !v. P ' tnrou gh which ran a muddy river with clay banks, the Thermopylae of these a n7i76o" Cherokee regions. To scour this dangerous pass Colonel Morrison advanced rcei. with a company of Rangers, when the Indians, suddenly springing from their ambush, killed him at the first shot, with several of his men. The light in- fantry being now moved forward, a warm fire was maintained on both sides, but the Indians still maintained the post without flinching, till, threatened in the flank by a movement of the agile Highlanders, they slowly fell back and reluctantly yielded the pass, posting themselves upon a hill, to watch the movements of their invaders. Supposing that Montgomery was advancing towards Etchoe, they ran to give the alarm to their wives and children, and prepare for a still more desperate resistance. But the English commander, after this specimen of Indian resolution, and in the heart of a wilderness where a reverse must be fatal to his army, resolved to retrace his steps, first to Fort Prince George, and afterwards to Charleston, whence he was shortly afterwards summoned to rejoin the army of the north. The Cherokees now blockaded Fort Londoun on the Virginia frontier, the garrison of which was entirely cut off from all communication with their brethren. Famine at length compelled them to surrender, on condition of being conducted to Virginia or Carolina. But when they had advanced some miles from the fort they were surrounded by a body of Indians, who opened a heavy fire upon them, which killed Captain Demere the commandant and nearly thirty others, and carried off the remainder into captivity. The Che- rokees, who could now muster three thousand warriors, continued to range the frontiers, and inspired such fear that Amherst was earnestly solicited to send back the troops he had withdrawn. The conquest of Canada being now achieved, the Highland regiment commanded by Colonel Grant returned to Carolina, and being reinforced by the colonial militia and scouts dressed in Indian costume, advanced to the spot where Montgomery had been repulsed. The Cherokees bravely maintained the struggle for several hours, but were at length entirely defeated ; their towns and magazines destroyed, their corn- fields ravaged, and they themselves forced to retreat into the desolate recesses of their mountains. Their resources being thus cut off, these intrepid warriors were compelled to sue for a peace. In order to obtain it, they were at first required to deliver four warriors to be shot at the head of the army, or to furnish four fresh Indian scalps within twenty days ; a degrading and horrible condition, from which they were relieved by the intercession of one of their aged chiefs. Two years afterwards the Delawares and Shawanese, provoked on one hand by aggressions on the part of the settlers, who now began to push across the Alleghanies, and on the other incited by the arts of the French, broke out into open hostilities, in which they were soon afterwards joined by numerous other tribes. They put the English traders to death, seized simultaneously nearly all the outlying forts and massacred their garrisons, and dealt destruc- tion upon the exposed frontiers. Forts Pitt, Niagara, and Detroit still held out, into which reinforcements were thrown after some severe encounters HISTORY OF AMERICA. 279 with the Indians. These outrages provoked a bloody retaliation on the part chap. of a body of Scotch and Irish settlers in Paxton township, Pennsylvania. : — They attacked a friendly and harmless tribe living under the guidance of some Moravian missionaries, murdered men, women, and children indis- criminately, forced their way into Lancaster workhouse, where some of the fugitives had taken refuge, and killed them, and then marched down to Phi- ladelphia, to exterminate a body of Indians who had fled to that city. It was with much difficulty Franklin succeeded in forming a body of militia, to check these disorders, and in compelling the " Paxton boys," as they were called, to retire to their own abodes. It required a colonial levy and two expedi- tions into the Indian country, to break up this wide-spread and dangerous combination of the tribes, and to force them to consent to peace. In the midst of the joy created by the conquest of Canada, an incident occurred which significantly foreshadowed the future. Francis Bernard, lately governor of New Jersey, had been transferred to that of Massachusetts, and displayed from the first remarkable zeal in carrying out the ministerial policy, and abridging the illegal practices of the colonists, to which his predecessor Pownall had more wisely shut his eyes. This zeal was seconded by Hutchin- son, who had lately been appointed lieutenant-governor, and also chief justice, to the disappointment" of Otis, who had been promised a seat on the bench by Pownall. It was at this juncture that, owing to a trade opened by the colonists with the French islands, by which they obtained supplies, orders had been given by the English ministry for the stricter enforcement of the acts of trade, already so odious to the mercantile interest and the people at large. To pre- vent evasion of the law, orders were sent to apply to the judicature for " writs of assistance," that is, for permits to break into and search any suspected place, — never granted in America, unless by special warrant and for some particular object. It was not long before the custom-house officers applied for the issue of the writs, to which the merchants determined to offer the most strenuous op- position, and retained Thatcher and young Otis, son of the speaker, to plead on their behalf. Otis, as advocate of the Admiralty, was bound to argue in favour of the writs, but urged by patriotic zeal, which was not improbably quickened by the neglect or affront offered to his parent, he resigned his office, and accepted the retainer of the merchants. On the day appointed for the trial, the council-chamber of the old town-house in Boston was crowded with the officers of government and the principal inhabitants of the city. The case was opened by the advocate for the crown, who founded his long and elaborate argument on the principle, that the parliament of Great Britain is supreme legislator of the British empire. Thatcher, who was one of the first lawyers of the city, replied in an ingenious and able speech, resting his argu- ments upon considerations purely legal and technical. But Otis, who follow- ed him, was not to be restrained within these narrow and inconvenient limits. In the words of Adams, " he was a flame of fire, with a promptitude of classi- cal allusion, a depth of research, a rapid summary of historical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic glance into futurity, and a rapid 280 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c iV A P * torrent 0I * impetuous eloquence, which carried away all before him." From the —— — — rights of man in a state of nature, he reasoned up to those involved in the British constitution, of which he declared the colonists could not be deprived. He launched out into a glowing eulogy of the forefathers of America, and "reproached the nation, parliament, and king, with injustice, illiberality, ingra- titude, and oppression," in a strain of invective congenial to his excited audi- tory. Feelings too deeply seated, but of which the utterance had hitherto been cautiously suppressed, now burst into open expression. American liberty there struggled into sudden existence. " The seeds of patriots and heroes to defend the No?i sine Diis anlmosus infans, to defend the vigorous youth, were then and there sown. Every man of an immense crowded audience appeared to me, says Adams, to go away as I did, ready to take arms against the ' writs of assistance.' Then and there was the first scene of the first act of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there the child Independence was born. In fifteen years he grew up to manhood, and declared himself free." This speech of Otis's gave a great impulse to his hearers, and through them was communicated to the people at large. Indeed, so powerful was the impression produced upon the public, that in his speech at the opening of the session, the governor thought prudent to recommend to the representatives to give no heed to declamations tending to promote a sus- picion of the civil rights of the people being in danger. The popularity of Otis became unbounded ; he was elected representative for Boston, and took the lead among the opposition members of the house, who shortly afterwards led the van of resistance against the encroachments of the English ministry. The conquest of Canada being achieved, the British arms were turned against the French islands in the West Indies. General Monckton sailed from New York with a formidable army, among the officers of which were Gates and Montgomery, afterwards celebrated in the revolutionary war. The expedition was completely successful, and all the islands then in possession of the French were wrested from them. A family compact between the differ- ent branches of the house of Bourbon had engaged Spain to side with France, and declare war against Great Britain. To humble this new enemy was the next object of her arms, and an expedition was shortly afterwards sent out, which wrested Havanna from Spain. The arms of England were every where triumphant, her cruisers swept the seas, and her enemies were obliged to consent to a humiliating peace. On the 3rd of November, 1762, the treaty was signed at Fontainebleau, by which the whole of North America, from the Mississippi to the Atlantic, was ceded to Great Britain. The island and city of New Orleans were ceded to Spain, with all Louisiana west of the Mississippi, then almost in a state of nature. Havanna was also restored to her in lieu of Florida, which now became incorporated with the English territory. This final cessation of intercolonial and frontier warfare restored, it is said, upwards of four thousand families to the homes from which they had been driven during its continuance. Believed of the pressure from without, the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 281 colonies every where expanded rapidly. On the north, the settlements of chap. Maine besran to advance to the Kennebec and Penobscot ; on the west, the green mountains of Vermont and the country extending to Lake Champlain to 1763. received a rapid accession of settlers. A westward impulse was given to all the States ; New York pushed up the Mohawk valley to the lakes, Virginia and Pennsylvania poured across the Alleghanies. No colony felt the benefit of the peace more than Georgia, now relieved from its hostile neighbours the Spaniards, its rich swamps being turned to account for the cultivation of rice. English settlers advanced into Florida, and began to develope its re- sources, which had remained almost dormant under the administration of its former occupants. CHAPTER V. FROM THE CONQUEST OF CANADA TO THE REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. The war which terminated in the conquest of Canada was but a part of the chap, stupendous struggle waged by Great Britain against the power of France, and from which, if she had emerged with glory, she had also become saddled with a. debt increased to a hundred and forty millions sterling. The pressure of taxation weighed heavily upon the nation, every art for raising supplies at home had been already exhausted by the ministry, and it was now resolved to turn to the colonies for some alleviations of the public burdens. Before the termination of the Canadian war, Pitt had declared his intention, so soon as it was over, to adopt some method of compelling the colonists to contribute their quota towards any future expense incurred by the mother country in their defence. To carry out this design now became the serious stu "y of his suc- cessors in the administration. The colonies, however, had already suffered severely. Th' /had lost thirty thousand of their citizens, and incurred an expense of sixteen millions of dollars, of which parliament had reimbursed them only about a third. They had taxed themselves very severely, and the leading States had incurred a heavy debt. Some of them indeed had not contributed their proper quota, and of the funds thus raised, the assemblies had always contrived to keep the management mainly in their own hands, and to concede as little as possible to the royal governors. It became in consequence the object of the English ministry to raise a fixed revenue, to which all the colonies should contribute alike, and which should be placed entirely under their own control. This 2 o v. A. D. 1763. 282 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1763. chap, became more important to the ministry, since, either for the purpose of strengthening the executive power, which had become much weakened by the gradual encroachments of the assemblies, or to defend the frontiers against the invasions of the Indians, they proposed to maintain a standing army in America ; a scheme which naturally created much suspicion and uneasiness on the part of the colonists, and to which they might accordingly refuse to contribute in the usual way of voluntary offerings. That parliament had the power to tax America, few in England, at that time at least, seemed to have entertained a doubt. The connexion between the parent country and her colonies was essentially vague and undefined. Parliament had always assumed the right to regulate the external commerce of the colonists, and even to prevent the growth of their domestic manufac- tures ; and although, as formerly explained, these acts had always been resisted as arbitrary and impolitic, they had nevertheless been acquiesced in as legal. Now the distinction between this mode of raising a revenue and that of levy- ing a direct tax was so doubtful, as afterwards to be repudiated by the colonists themselves. Even Franklin, when a stamp tax had been mooted in the colonial congress held at Albany, had acquiesced in it as a legitimate and desirable plan for making all the colonies contribute their fair proportions alike. Indeed the plan seems not to have originated with the English ministry, but to have been suggested to them by certain American merchants, and particularly by one Huske, who had obtained a seat in parliament, and who, reminding Grenville of the above-mentioned incident, expressed his be- lief that his countrymen were able to raise a liberal annual revenue for the support of government. Of their ability to do so, every one was fully convinced. Notwithstanding the temporary check to their onward career caused by the recent war, the colonists were, comparatively with the bulk of their English brethren, in such prosperous circumstances as to be objects of envy. The officers who returned home after the war, and whom the richer inhabitants had taken a pride in entertaining with an over- ostentatious hospitality, were full of the wealth and luxury of the colonists, and it was considered high time that " our subjects in America," as every English chimney-sweeper called them, should be made to bear their portion of a burden frcm which they had been hitherto comparatively exempted. Ac- cordingly wht i, shortly after the war was over, Grenville first laid his plans before parliam nt, the resolution that, " towards further defraying the ex- penses, it may be proper to charge certain stamp duties in the said colonies and plantations," was passed without debate, while public feeling throughout the country was entirely in favour of carrying it into effect. Very different was the feeling on the other side of the Atlantic as soon as the intentions of the English government began to be noised about. The colonists had long borne with impatience the increasing severity of restrictions which at once checked the development of their commerce, and reminded them of their humiliating dependence upon a foreign power. The feeling had become general that a stand must be made against any further encroachments. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 283 No soonei then did this resolution of parliament to impose a direct tax become c ha p. generally known, than the public mind was greatly excited and alarmed. - — With her usual foresight and vigilance, Massachusetts was foremost in oppo- sition to the government measure. Her representatives, assembled in general court, resolved " that the sole right of giving and granting the money of the people of that province was vested in themselves, and that the imposition of taxes and duties by the parliament of Great Britain upon a people who are not represented in parliament is absolutely irreconcilable with their rights. If our trade may be taxed," they continue, " why not our lands, why not the produce of our lands, and every thing we possess or use ? This we conceive annihilates our charter-rights to govern and tax ourselves. It strikes at our British privileges, which, as we have never forfeited, we hold in common with our fellow subjects who are natives of Britain. If taxes are laid upon us with- out our having a legal representation where they are laid, we are reduced from the character of free subjects to the state of tributary slaves." Such was the tenor of their instructions to their agent in London, who was also desired to use his utmost influence in urging the representatives of the other colonics to unite their remonstrances with his own, while they at the same time appointed a committee to write to the colonies themselves, and urge them to apply for the repeal of the sugar duty, and to prevent the pass- age of the obnoxious Act ; measures which must be recognised as being the germ of that resistance afterwards so successfully carried out. Connecticut followed in the steps of Massachusetts, and a body of reasons why the colonies should not be taxed by parliament was drawn up by Fetel, the governor, himself an able jurist. Petitions to the king and the houses of parliament were drawn up in the different colonies, all breathing the same language of firm but respectful remonstrance. While the different public bodies were thus combining their forces, influ- ential individuals were no less active in arousing and exciting the people by newspaper articles and pamphlets. Among these, one written by Otis, entitled "The Bights of the British Colonies asserted," produced the most consider- able sensation. The ground taken by the writer was broad, and its limits somewhat ill-defined and inconsistent. It conceded to parliament the power to enact general regulations for the government of the colonies, limited by " the natural rights of man and constitutional rights of British subjects," one of the latter being that of not being taxed without the consent of themselves or their representatives. The distinction between internal and external taxes was repudiated. It became thus evident that the opponents of taxation were gradually extending their ground, and becoming more impatient of foreign imposition in every shape, although at this period any forcible opposition to its exercise would have been generally denounced as unjustifiable, if not actually treasonable. It was at this stage of the excitement that Franklin sailed from Philadelphia for London as agent for the colony of Pennsylvania. Since the time when the young printer, reprimanded, as we have seen, by the magistrates of Boston, and 2 o 2 284 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, discharged from his brother's office, had arrived at Philadelphia with hardly -'— — a dollar in his pocket, a wonderful alteration had taken place in his circum- ' stances. Commencing there as a journeyman, he gradually worked his way up until he became a master printer, and acquired, his only competitor being old and rich, the most lucrative business in the city, printed for the assembly, composed and issued his "Poor Richard's Almanac," was successively ap- pointed postmaster, j ustice of the peace, clerk of the assembly, and finally re- presentative for the city of Philadelphia. No man was more completely the architect of his own fortune : laborious and self-denying, prudent and per- severing, he put in practice his own maxims — the quintessence of mere worldly wisdom. He was the embodiment of the practical and the useful. Every thing to his mind, even virtue herself, must be reduced to calculation, and carried out by rule and measure. No other man perhaps ever erected for his own practice a regular table, on which to mark down his daily shortcomings, and, adding them up at the end of the week, compute his moral progress or declension by an arithmetical process. No one else ever set about emendating the Lord's prayer. Calm and passionless in temperament, Franklin was not without a certain enthusiasm, the enthusiasm, if we may so call it, of prac- tical benevolence. His incessantly active mind teemed with designs for the good of the public, and indeed of all mankind. From the cleansing of streets and the reformation of stoves, up to the organizing a " United Party for Vir- tue," nothing came amiss to his hand. The actual good he accomplished was prodigious. He established the first library in Philadelphia, originated a philosophical society, enrolled and commanded the militia, and carried through by his practical management a scheme organized by his friend, Dr. Bond, for a hospital. No matter what was the design on foot, every one first asked — " Have you consulted Franklin an this business, and what does he think of it ? " Add to this, that his probity was above suspicion, and his inde- pendence proof alike against official or popular influence; that his temper was placid and cheerful, and his manners simple and full of genial humour ; and it is not surprising that he should have obtained unbounded influence over his fallow citizens. As years rolled on, his public services grew more important, his moral consistency more tried and manifest, and the feelings of his countrymen deepened into gratitude and veneration. When Franklin became involved in the petty politics of Pennsylvania, he chose the side of the people, and was deputed to sail to England, to solicit from parliament the abolition of the proprietary government, just when the revolutionary troubles first broke out. Having himself drawn up the abortive " Albany convention," he had a perfect knowledge of the temper of his coun- trymen, and of their feeling towards the parent state, and thus no one could have been every way more fitted to occupy the position of advocate in England for the claims of the colonists, which naturally fell into his hands. Besides the influence naturally derived from his respectable character and position, he was also preceded by his reputation as a man of science. By his well-known experi- ments and writings on electricity, he had raised the character of his country- A.D. 1765. HISTORY OF AMERICA. £85 men throughout Europe. The learned in Paris could scarcely believe that c ita p. " such a work could have come from America." On arriving in England he was received with distinction, and warmly welcomed into circles to which, after being separated from them by war, he ever cast back a longing, lingering look of attachment. The tenor of his letters amply shows that his original bent was a strong attachment to the mother country, and a strong feeling of loyalty towards the ruling monarch. In giving an account of Wilkes's mobs, the first directly radical outbreak in England, he observes, " What the event will be, God only knows. But some punishment seems preparing for a people who are ungratefully abusing the best constitution and the best king any nation was ever blessed with." Franklin's hereditary prejudices against the French were strong, and he seems to have penetrated, even then, their secret policy of sowing dissension between England and her colonies. Speaking of De Guerchy, the French ambassador in 1767, he says, " He is extremely curious to inform himself about the affairs of America, pretends to have a great esteem for me on account of the abilities shown in my examination, has de- sired to have all my political writings, invited me to dine with him, was very inquisitive, treated me with great civility, makes me visits, &c. I fancy that intriguing nation would like very well to meddle on occasion, and blow up the coals between Britain and her colonies, but I hope we shall give them no opportunity." Such was his feeling at the outset of the revolutionary strug- gle ; how signally it was afterward reversed in both cases, will appear in the course of events. After his arrival in England, Franklin was consulted both by Grenville and his party, and also by Pitt and the opposition, as to the expediency of introducing the Stamp Act. Whatever his opinion might once have been, (and more than one instance of his modifying his opinions occurred in the course of the revolution,) he now explicitly declared that he considered it an unwise measure, to which the Americans would never submit, and to enforce which would imperil the unity of the empire. At length, in the session of 1765, the Stamp Bill was formally brought before the House of Commons, where, owing to the preceding events, it now excited somewhat more attention and controversy than when it was first mooted, the galleries being crowded to hear the debate. The opposition firmly maintained the injustice no less than impolicy of the measure, alleging that by the ancient laws of the realm, tax- ation and representation had always gone hand in hand. The ministry re- plied, that the colonies were in fact virtually as much represented by the actual members, as were the great proportion of the English, who themselves enjoyed no vote ; that the right of taxing the colonists was derived from the responsibility and expense of defending them ; that the colonists must either be entirely dependent upon England, or entirety separated from her. The inconsistency of allowing a duty to be placed upon their exports, while they refused to submit to one upon stamps, was artfully pointed out. Finally, after ostentatiously enumerating the advantages derived by America from her connexion with Great Britain, and leaving out of sight the counterbalancing 286 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A.D. 17CJ c ha p. restrictions upon her commerce, Charles Townshend concluded with the fol- • lowing words : " And now, will these Americans, children planted by our care, nourished up by our indulgence till they are grown to a degree of strength and opulence, and protected by our arms — will they grudge to con- tribute their mite to relieve us from the heavy weight of that burden which we lie under ? " At these words up started Colonel Isaac Barre, one of the most formidable debaters of the opposition. He was familiar with America, had been the friend of Wolfe, and was near his person in the battle of Quebec, in which he had lost one of his eyes. He has been suspected, and not without strong show of evidence, to have been the author of the celebrated " Letters of Junius." Sarcastically echoing the concluding words of Townshend, he burst into a torrent of vigorous eloquence which fairly electrified the house. " They planted by your care ! (he said). No ; your oppressions planted them in Ame- rica. They fled from your tyranny, to a then uncultivated and inhospitable country, where they exposed themselves to all the hardships to which human nature is liable, and, among others, to the cruelties of a savage foe, the most subtle, and I will take upon me to say, the most formidable of any people upon the face of God's earth; yet, actuated by principles of true English liberty, they met all hardships with pleasure, compared with those they suf- fered in their own country, from the hands of those, who 'should have been their friends. " They nourished up by your indulgence ! They grew by your neglect of them. As soon as you began to care for them, that care was exercised in sending persons to rule them in one department and another, who were, per- haps, the deputies of deputies, to some members of this house, sent to spy out their liberties, to misrepresent their actions, and to prey upon them — men whose behaviour, on many occasions, has caused the blood of those sons of liberty to boil within them — men promoted to the highest seats of justice ; some who, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to a foreign country, to escape being brought to the bar of a court of justice in their own. " They protected by your arms ! They have nobly taken up arms in your defence, have exerted their valour amidst their constant and laborious industry for the defence of a country whose frontier was drenched in blood, while its interior parts yielded all its little savings to your emolument. And believe me, remember, I this day told you so, that same spirit of freedom which actuated that people at first, will accompany them still ; but prudence forbids me to explain myself further. God knows, I do not at this time speak from any motives of party heat ; what I deliver are the genuine sentiments of my heart. However superior to me, in general knowledge and experience, the respectable body of this house may be, yet I claim to know more of America than most of you, having seen and been conversant with that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal as any subjects the king has, but a people jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them if ever they should be violated. But the subject is too delicate — I will say no more." HISTORY OF AMERICA. 287 The house remained stupified for a while by the energy of Barr£, and no c ha p. one ventured to reply to him. This striking incident relieved what was pro- — nounced by Burke to have been the most languid debate he had ever heard, so ignorant of American affairs, and so indifferent about them, were the major- ity of the members of the House of Commons. The bill having been voted by a majority of a hundred and fifty to fifty, was sent up to the Lords, by whom it was passed without opposition, and shortly afterwards received the royal assent. The ministers, backed by the king and country, declared their inten- tion of speedily carrying it into vigorous execution. " The sun of liberty is set," wrote Franklin to his friend Charles Thompson, on the very night when the bill was passed ; " the Americans must light the lamps of industry and eco- nomy." " Be assured," was the reply, " that we shall light torches of a very different sort." In fact, since the first mooting of this impolitic measure, the progress of public irritation in America had been constantly on the increase, and, sus- pended for a moment during the appeal to parliament, it acquired with the fatal news of the passing of the Stamp Act, a prodigious increase of force and activity. The house of burgesses in Virginia was then near the end of its session, and the older and more aristocratic of the body were uncertain and hesitating. But Patrick Henry, a young lawyer who had been elected a burgess but a few days before, and was ignorant of the forms of the house and the members that composed it, finding no one prepared to step forth, " alone, unadvised, and unassisted," wrote upon the blank leaf of an old law book, a few spirited resolutions, which he launched into the midst of the assembly. A violent debate ensued, and many threats and much abuse were heaped upon the daring young advocate by the party who were inclined to temporize or submit. The spirit of Henry rose with the occasion, and while descanting on the tyranny of the obnoxious Act, he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, " Caesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third — " " Treason," cried the speaker — " Treason, treason," echoed from every part of the house. " It was one of those trying moments," well says his biographer, " which are decisive of character. Henry faltered not for a moment, but rising to a loftier attitude, and fixing on the speaker an eye of the most determined fire, he finished his sentence with firmest emphasis, — " may profit by their example. If this be treason make the most of it. " The resolutions were passed in spite of opposition, and being circulated throughout the colonies, tended greatly to fortify the determined spirit of opposition every where so rife. In Massachusetts, the passing of the Act was received with still deeper dis- satisfaction, and notwithstanding the advice of Governor Bernard, himself unfavourable to the imposition of the tax, of submission to the act of parlia- ment "as it was the sanctuary of liberty and justice," the representatives appointed a committee of nine to report on the best measures to be adopted under the emergency. This body recommended the assembly of a congress at New York, in the ensuing month of October, to consult together on the 288 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1765. chap, posture of affairs, and to consider of a general and humble address to his Majesty for relief. With this momentous arrangement, the germ of all organized resistance to the ministerial proceedings, even Governor Bernard himself then thought it prudent to coincide. Meanwhile an explosion of popular fury broke out at Boston. There was an old elm tree in the city, which, from the association called the " Sons of Liberty " holding their meetings under it, had received the name of " Liberty Tree." Here the opponents of the Stamp Act were accustomed to assemble. On the morning of Thursday the fourteenth of August, two grotesque effigies of persons favourable to the tax, amongst which was that of Oliver, secretary to the colony, and who had been appointed to distribute the stamps, the other a huge boot, with head and horns peeping out, intended to personify Lord Bute, were found suspended from its branches. The mob soon collected to witness the sight, and the excitement went on increasing till night, when the effigies were taken down, put upon a bier, and carried in solemn procession through the streets of the city, the populace shouting after them, " No Stamp Act ! " At length the procession halted before the door of a small building destined for the reception of the stamps, which was instantly destroyed by the mob, who brandishing its fragments tumultuously hurried to the house of Oliver himself, and cutting off the head of his effigy, smashed in his windows, and after resting a while to burn the effigy returned to his house, which they completely gutted. Oliver, who had fled on the attack upon his premises, notified next day that he had written to resign his office. In the evening the mob assembled again before his house, and exacted a renewal of the pledge, whereupon they greeted him with loud huzzas, and here for the moment the agitation was suspended. Shortly after, Jonathan Mayhew, one of the minis- ters of the city, preached a warm sermon against the Stamp Act, taking for his text the significant words, " I would they were even cut off which trouble you." Next evening the rioting broke out anew with increased violence. A band of men disguised in masks and armed with clubs, rushed first to the house of Paxon, marshal of the admiralty, but being artfully taken off to the tavern, where their excitement was stimulated by drink, they next ■ selected the residence of Story, registrar of the admiralty, for the object of their at- tacks. Here they destroyed the official and private papers, and whatever came to their hand. Meanwhile the mob continuing to increase, and with it the contagious frenzy of the rioters, they next proceeded to the house of the con- troller of the customs, where they committed the same disorders ; and becoming inflamed to madness by the additional stock of liquors discovered in his cel- lars, they finally hurried off to the house of Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson, the most elegantly furnished in the whole colony. Having sent away his children to a place of safety, Hutchinson barricaded his doors and prepared for resistance, but the desperate fury of the rabble soon compelled him to seek safety in flight, and by four in the morning the contents of his establishment, plate, furniture, clothing, and money, together with all the public papers, and a body of manuscripts relating to the history of the province which he had HISTORY OF AMERICA. 289 been thirty years in collecting, were entirely destroyed or carried off. Next c ha p. morning Hutchinson was obliged to appear at the usual sitting of the council — — — without his robes, which had been destroyed by the mob, while the other members were clothed in their usual costume. The court, to mark their sense of the outrage received by their president, adjourned until the middle of October. May hew sent to Hutchinson next day to disclaim all sympathy with the rioters. The more influential citizens assembled at Faneuil Hall to take order for the prevention of such outrages for the future. A civic guard was organized to patrol the city. A reward was offered for the apprehension of the ringleaders, and one or two were taken, but refused to betray their ac- complices, and although the rioters were well known, no one ventured to ; come forward for their conviction. Similar manifestations of public feeling occurred in all the colonies. On the 24th August, at Providence, Rhode Island, appeared a Gazette extra- ordinary, headed with the words Vox populi, vox Dei, in large characters ; and below, the sentence of St. Paul, "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." The writers boldly panegyrised the riots of the Bostonians, as proving that they had not degenerated from the spirit of their forefathers. ; Squibs and pasquinades were circulated freely, and the effigies of the ob- noxious dragged about the streets, and afterwards hanged and burned amidst the acclamations of the populace. In Connecticut, Ingersoll, the agent for the stamps, was compelled to promise, under pain of seeing his house de- molished, that he would either send back the stamps on their arrival, or throw open the magazines containing them to the discretion of the people. At Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the bells were tolled, and notice given to the friends of Liberty to hold themselves in readiness to attend her funeral. A coffin was prepared neatly labelled, " Liberty, aged exxv years," and carried in funeral procession about the town, while minute guns were fired until the grave destined to receive the coffin was reached. An oration in honour of the deceased was then pronounced, when suddenly some remains of life hav- ing been discovered, poor Liberty was taken up again, and the inscription altered, while the bells struck up a merry peal. At New York the obnoxious bill, headed, " Folly of England, and Puin of America," was contemptuously hawked about the streets. Satirical pamphlets, and cutting articles in the journals, constantly added fresh fuel to the flame. One of those published at Boston bore for its title, " The Constitutional Courier, or Considerations im- portant to Liberty, without being contrary to Loyalty." But the device adopted was most original, representing a serpent cut into eight pieces, the head bearing the initials of New England, and the other pieces those of the other colonies as far as Carolina, the whole being surmounted by the signifi- cant inscription in large letters, " Unite or Die." These acts of intimidation were principally the work of the lower classes, but set in motion, there is little doubt, by others who kept behind the scenes. Bodies of the more ardent patriots, originating in Connecticut, spread through the northern colonies, calling themselves " Sons of Liberty," after Barrels 2 p 290 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. famous speech, and adopting the principle of forcible resistance to tyranny, A D ]765 seem to have taken the initiation in precipitating a popular outbreak. The members of this association solemnly pledged themselves to march at their own cost to the relief of any who should be in danger from the Stamp Act and its abettors, to watch for and prevent the introduction of the paper, and to punish as enemies to their country any one who should be instrumental in its circulation. While the more wealthy and influential citizens repudiated their principles, they were no less active in organizing a firm resistance by constitutional means. On the 5th of October, the ships having on board the stamps appeared in view of Philadelphia. All the vessels in the river immediately hoisted their colours half-mast high, the bells in the churches were muffled, and continued to toll until the evening. Although the Quakers and Episcopalians seemed inclined for peaceable submission, the mass of the people forcibly compelled Hughes, the stamp master, reluctantly to resign his office. The paper having arrived at Boston on the 10th of September, Governor Bernard wrote to the assembly, to request their advice and assistance ; but they shrewdly declined to meddle with an affair beyond their functions, and the governor decided to deposit the stamps in the castle, and defend them, if needful, with artillery. But on the 1st of November, the day when the Act was to come into oper- ations, all the bells in Boston were tolled, and the same scenes which had before occurred there, were repeated with increased violence. Oliver was dragged through the mob to the foot of Liberty tree, and made to swear anew to his renunciation of office, while papers with the signature " Vox populi," were affixed to the doors of the public offices, warning any who should dare to make use of the stamps to look to his house, his property, and his person. Still more daring were the proceedings at New York. There too the dis- tributor of stamps having resigned his employment, Vice-Governor Colden, who was very unpopular, deposited the stamps for safety in the fort. On the evening of the 1st of November, a furious mob proceeded to the citadel, and seized upon Colden's carriage, then hung him in effigy, with the Stamp Act in his hand, made a bonfire of the whole under the very guns of the citadel, and then proceeded to attack and pillage the house of Major James. Encouraged by impunity, and stimulated by the coffee-house oratory of the popular leaders, headed by one Captain Sears, they marched tumultuously to the vice-governor's, threatening the direst extremity unless the stamps were given up to them. To avoid bloodshed, and in the absence of the governor, Colden delivered up the obnoxious paper, which was immediately car- ried off by the populace. Next day a meeting took place of the more respectable inhabitants, for the purpose of forming a committee of correspondence with the other colonies, to keep alive the spirit of opposition to the government measure. Shortly after- wards a more important resolution was agreed upon. The merchants of New York resolved to import no more goods from England, until the revocation of the bill ; an example shortly afterwards followed by the majority in Phila- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 291 delphia and Boston. Some even went so far as to forbid any action to be c ha p. brought against an American subject to recover debts due in England. The • ■•- people, too, of all ranks and classes agreed to deny themselves the use of all foreign luxuries, and even necessaries, until they had obtained justice. Sheep were forbidden to be used as food, in order that their wool might be ex- clusively used for domestic manufactures, and to appear in homespun was esteemed the mark of a true patriot. A society was formed at New York to promote the growth of domestic manufactures. By adopting such a policy they hoped to touch the English manufacturers to the quick, and compel them to agitate for the removal of the obnoxious bill. On the 1st of November, when the stamps were to have come into general use, not a single one was to be found in circulation ; all had been either de- stroyed, locked up, or sent back again to England by the royal governors, who found it impossible to carry the Act into execution. The greatest confu- sion prevailed through the provinces, and business was generally at a stand- still. The diary of John Adams, then rising into popularity at Boston, gives a most lively picture of the state of public feeling at this period. " The year 1765/' he observes, " has been the most remarkable year of my life. That enormous engine, fabricated by the British parliament, for battering down all the . rights and liberties of America, I mean the Stamp Act, has raised and spread through the whole continent a spirit that will be recorded to our honour with all future generations. In every colony, from Georgia to New Hamp- shire inclusively, the stamp distributors and inspectors have been compelled by the unconquerable rage of the people to renounce their offices. Such and so universal has been the resentment of the people, that every man who has dared to speak in favour of the stamps, or to soften the detestation in which they are held, how great soever his abilities and virtues had been esteemed before, or whatever his fortune, connexions, and influence had been, has been seen to sink into universal contempt and ignominy. " The people, even to the lowest ranks, have become more attentive to their liberties, more inquisitive about them, and more determined to defend them, than they were ever before known or had occasion to be ; innumerable have been the monuments of wit, humour, sense, learning, spirit, patriotism, and heroism, erected in the several colonies and provinces in the course of this year. Our presses have groaned, our pulpits have thundered, our legis- latures have resolved, our towns have voted; the crown officers have every where trembled, and all their little tools and creatures been afraid to speak and ashamed to be seen. " This spirit, however, has not yet been sufficient to banish from persons in authority that timidity which they have discovered from the beginning. The executive courts have not yet dared to adjudge the Stamp Act void, nor to proceed with business as usual, though it should seem that necessity alone would be sufficient to justify business at present, though the Act should be allowed to be obligatory. The stamps are in the castle. Mr. Oliver has no commission. The governor has no authority to distribute or even to unpack 2 p 2 A. D. 1765 292 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the bales ; the Act has never been proclaimed nor read in the province ; yet the probate office is shut, the custom-house is shut, the courts of justice are shut, and all business seems at a stand. Yesterday and the day before, the two last days of service for January term, only one man asked me for a writ, and he was soon determined to wave his request. I have not drawn a writ since the first of November. " How long we are to remain in this languid condition, this passive obedi- ence to the Stamp Act, is not certain. But such a pause cannot be lasting. Debtors grow insolent ; creditors grow angry ; and it is to be expected that the public offices will very soon be forced open, unless such favourable ac- counts should be received from England as to draw away the fears of the great, or unless a greater dread of the multitude should drive away the fear of censure from Great Britain." In the midst of this universal excitement, the congress suggested by Massa- chusetts met at New York. Nine of the colonies sent deputies, and assur- ances of support were received from the others. Most of the men now assembled became afterwards famous in the annals of the coming revolution. During a session of three weeks, they drew up a " Declaration of Bights and Grievances," recapitulating the arguments already advanced against taxation by a parliament where they were not represented, but, as though they feared they might be taken at their word and required to send deputies to England, they alleged the distance and other reasons as an argument for lodging the power of taxation exclusively in their own assemblies. Petitions to the king and houses of parliament were also prepared, filled with warm protestations of loyalty, and earnest entreaties for redress. These petitions, which were fully approved by the different colonial assemblies, were shortly afterwards sent over to England for presentation. The united and formidable opposition of all classes in the colonies to the recent Act, awakened in England, so soon as it was known, a general attention to American affairs, which had previously been regarded with great indiffer- ence. The merchants, whose interests were seriously compromised by the non-importation confederacy, were the first to blame the impolitic measure, which had entirely stopped the course of trade, and the table of the minister groaned under their petitions for its repeal. Pamphlets were continually ap- pearing, in which the subject was agitated, according to political or party dif- ferences. Some exalted the firmness of the Americans to the skies, while others accused them of ingratitude and rebellion. Some who affirmed the right of parliament to tax them, among whom were the bulk of the aristocracy and clergy, called for the adoption of force, while the opposite party recom- mended the policy of forbearance and concession. Meanwhile the Grenville ministry, distinguished for its maintenance of the royal prerogative, had given place to a more liberal administration under the Marquis of Bockingham. The new ministry, overwhelmed by the petitions of the colonists and remon- strances of the merchants, adroitly endeavoured in their instructions to the royal governors in America, to lull the tempest awakened by their prede- V. A. D. 176«i. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 293 cessors, while they awaited the renewal of the session of parliament in order chap. to obtain an entire reversal of their policy. Thus terminated the year 1765, as yet the most stormy and momentous in the colonial annals. Parliament met in the following January, when the speech from the throne brought the affairs of America formally before the house. His Majesty de- clared " his firm confidence in the wisdom and zeal of the members, which would, he doubted not, guide them to such sound and prudent resolutions as might tend at once to preserve the constitutional rights of the British legislature over the colonies, and to restore to them that harmony and tranquillity which had lately been interrupted by disorders of the most dangerous nature." The reports of the royal governors and other papers, together with a mass of peti- tions requesting the repeal of the Stamp Act, were then laid before the house. The motion for an address to the king was next warmly agitated, and the same differences of opinion on the subject which had before appeared were now more fully manifested, fortified by motives of party or personal animosity. The ex-ministers, now in opposition, were firm in the defence of their recent policy. But Pitt, who had neither formed part of the recent nor present ad- ministration, and whose ill health had for some time withdrawn him from any active share in politics, now appeared to turn the scale decisively in favour of its repeal. " It is a long time, Mr. Speaker," he said, " since I have attended in par- liament: when the resolution was taken in this house to tax America, I was ill in bed. If I could have endured to have been carried in my bed, so great was the agitation of my mind for the consequences, I would have soli- cited some kind hand to have laid me down on this floor to have borne my testimony against it. It is my opinion, that this kingdom has no right to lay a tax upon the colonies. At the same time, I assert the authority of this kingdom to be sovereign and supreme in every circumstance of government and legislature whatsoever. Taxation is no part of the governing or legisla- tive power ; and taxes are a voluntary gift and grant of the commons alone. The concurrence of the peers and of the crown is necessary only as a form of law. This house represents the commons of Great Britain. When in this house we give and grant, therefore, we give and grant what is our own ; but can we give and grant the property of the commons of America ? It is an absurdity in terms. There is an idea in some, that the colonies are virtually represented in this house. I would fain know by whom ? The idea of vir- tual representation is the most contemptible that ever entered into the head of man ; it does not deserve a serious refutation. The commons in America, represented in their several assemblies, have invariably exercised this consti- tutional right of giving and granting their own money ; they would have been slaves if they had not enjoyed it. At the same time this kingdom has ever professed the power of legislature and commercial control. The colonies ac- knowledge your authority in all things, with the sole exception that you shall not take their money out of their pockets without their consent. Here would I draw the line — quam ultra citraqne nequit consistere rectum" A pro- p— _ 294 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h^a p. found silence succeeded the address of Mr. Pitt ; no one appeared inclined . ...... to take the part of the late ministers. At length Mr. Grenville himself, the obstinate author of all the mischief which then so loudly threatened the peace and prosperity of the whole empire, rose in defence of the measures of his ad- ministration. " Protection and obedience," said the late minister, (l are recipro- cal ; Great Britain protects America, America is therefore bound to yield obedi- ence. If not, tell me when were the Americans emancipated ? " Fixing his eye upon Pitt he exclaimed, " The seditious spirit of the colonies owes its birth to the factions in this house. Gentlemen are careless what they say, provided it serves the purposes of opposition. "We were told we trod on tender ground, we were bid to expect disobedience : what is this but telling America to stand out against the law ? to encourage their obstinacy with the expectation of support here ? Ungrateful people of America ! The nation has run itself into an immense debt to give them protection ; bounties have been extended to them ; in their favour the Act of Navigation, that palladium of British commerce, has been relaxed ; and now that they are called upon to contribute a small share towards the public expense, they renounce your authority, in- sult your officers, and break out, I might almost say, into open rebellion." At this several members started suddenly to their feet, among whom was Pitt himself. There was a general cry of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Pitt, and all but he resumed their seats. Addressing himself to the speaker, he observed, " Sir, a charge is brought against gentlemen sitting in this house for giving birth to sedition in America. The freedom with which they have spoken their senti- ments against this unhappy Act is imputed to them as a crime; but the imputation shall not discourage me. It is a liberty which I hope no gentle- man will be afraid to exercise ; it is a liberty by which the gentleman who calumniates it might have profited. He ought to have desisted from his pro- ject. We are told America is obstinate — America is almost in open rebellion. Sir, I rejoice America has resisted.; three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty, as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest. I came not here armed at all points with law cases and acts of parliament, with the statute book doubled down in dogsears, to defend the cause of liberty ; but for the defence of liberty upon a general constitutional principle, it is a ground on which I dare meet any man. I will not debate points of law ; but what, after all, do the cases of Chester and Durham prove, but that under the most arbitrary reigns parliament were ashamed of taxing a people without their consent, and allowed them representatives ? A higher and better example might have been taken from Wales ; that principality was never taxed by parliament till it was incorporated with England. We are told of many classes of persons in this kingdom not represented in parliament ; but are they not all virtually represented as English- men within the realm ? Have they not the option, many of them at least, of becoming themselves electors ? Every inhabitant of this kingdom is necessarily included in the general system of representation. It is a misfortune that more are not actually represented. The honourable gentleman boasts of his bounties HISTORY OF AMERICA. 295 to America. Are not these bounties intended finally for the benefit of this c ha p. kingdom ? If they are not, he has misapplied the national treasures. I am no courtier of America. I maintain that parliament has a right to bind, to restrain America. Our legislative power over the colonies is sovereign and supreme. The honourable gentleman tells us he understands not the differ- ence between internal and external taxation ; but surely there is a plain dis- tinction between taxes levied for the purpose of raising a revenue and duties imposed for the regulation of commerce. ' When,' said the honourable gen- tleman, ' were the colonies emancipated ? ' At what time say I, in answer, were they made slaves ? I speak from actual knowledge when I say that the profit to Great Britain from the trade of the colonies, through all its branches, is two millions per annum. This is the fund that carried you triumphantly through the war ; this is the price America pays you for her protection ; and shall a miserable financier come with a boast that he can fetch a peppercorn into the exchequer at the loss of millions to the nation ? I know the valour of your troops, I know the skill of your officers, I know the force of this country ; but in such a cause your success would be hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like a strong man : she would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the constitution with her. Is this your boasted peace ? not to sheathe the sword in the scabbard, but to sheathe it in the bowels of your countrymen? The Americans have been wronged, they have been driven to madness by injustice. Will you punish them for the madness you have occasioned ? No, let this country be the first to resume its prudence and temper ; I will pledge myself for the colonies, that, on their part, animo- sity and resentment will cease. Upon the whole, I will beg leave to tell the house in a few words what is really my opinion. It is that the Stamp Act be repealed absolutely, totally, and immediately. At the same time let the sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be asserted in as strong terms as can be devised, and be made to extend to every point of legislation whatsoever ; that we may bind their trade, confine their manufactures, and exercise any power whatsoever, except that of taking their money out of their pockets without their consent." Grenville having vainly endeavoured to pledge the House to the enforce- ment of the Act, the policy to be pursued was anxiously investigated and dis- cussed. It was on this occasion that Franklin was summoned to give his evi- dence before the House of Commons. The galleries were crowded with spectators eager to behold and listen to the remarkable stranger, so distin- guished both for his scientific discoveries and the services he had rendered to his country. His demeanour was simple and self-possessed as usual, and his replies to the questions proposed to him were clear, intelligent, and conclusive as to the impossibility of enforcing the tax. When asked whether he thought the people of America would submit to the Stamp duty if it was moderated, he answered emphatically, " No, never, unless compelled by force of arms." To the question, " What was the temper of America towards Great Britain, before the year 1763 ?" he replied, " The best in the world. They submitted 296 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1766. ch^ap. willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, in their courts, obedience to acts of parliament. Numerous as the people are in the several old pro- vinces, they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep them* in subjection. They were governed by this country at the expense only of a little pen, ink, and paper ; they were led by a thread. They had not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain, — for its laws, its customs, and manners, — and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased the com- merce. Natives of Britain were always treated with particular regard ; to be an Old England man was, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us." — "And what is their temper now?" it was asked. " O, very much altered," he replied. " Did you ever hear the authority of parliament to make laws for America questioned till lately ? " " The authority of parliament," said he, " was allowed to be valid in all laws, except such as should lay internal taxes. It was never disputed in laying duties to regulate commerce." To the question, " Can you name any act of assembly, or public act of any of your governments, that made such distinction ? " he replied, " I do not know that there was any ; I think there was never an occasion to make such an act, till now that you have attempted to tax us ; that has occasioned resolutions of assembly, declaring the distinction, in which I think every assembly on the continent, and every member in every assembly, have been unanimous." General Conway, who from the first had opposed the imposition of the Stamp Act, now brought in a bill for its total repeal, which, after being warmly opposed by Grenville and the opposition, was put to the vote, and carried by a large majority. " During the debate," to use the language of Burke, who had lent the strength of his eloquence to the ministerial measure, " the trading interest of the empire crammed into the lobbies of the House of Commons with a trembling and anxious expectation, and waited almost to a winter's return of light, their fate from the resolution of the House. When at length that had determined in their favour, and the doors thrown open showed their deliverer in the well-earned triumph of his important victory, from the whole of that grave multitude there arose an involuntary burst of gratitude and transport. They jumped upon him like children on a long-absent father. They clung about him as captives about a redeemer All England joined in his applause." In repealing the Stamp Act the ministry, it should be observed, took no higher ground than that of the impolicy of maintaining it, and they carefully salved over the wounded honour of the country, by an act declaring " that the parliament had, and of right ought to have, power to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." When the repeal bill was sent up to the Lords, the highest legal authorities in the realm differed entirely upon the point at issue, Lord Mansfield maintaining that the sovereign power of parliament included the right of taxation, a doctrine which Lord Camden most strenuously denied. The king, it was understood, was in principle opposed to the repeal, but un- willing to risk the effusion of blood. Others of the peers, both temporal and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 297 spiritual, breathed a spirit far more hostile, but finally the bill was carried by c ha p. a majority of a third, and shortly afterwards the king went down to the House — tt^T" of Lords to give it his assent. On this occasion the American merchants crowded around to express their gratitude, the ships in the river were adorned with flags, the streets were illuminated, bonfires blazed, and every sign of public rejoicing hailed the renewal of their friendly relations with America, which had lately been so lamentably interrupted. CHAPTER VI. FROM THE REPEAL OP THE STAMP ACT TO THE PASSING OF THE BOSTON FORT BILL. The news of the repeal of the Stamp Act was received in the colonies with chap unbounded joy. At Boston the bells were immediately set ringing, cannon dis- charged, and the ships in the harbour adorned with flags and streamers. The sons of liberty gathered under their familiar tree, and commemorated the joyful event by drinking toasts and firing muskets. The debtors in the jails were set at liberty, there were splendid exhibitions of fireworks, and Han- cock and Otis, the popular leaders, kept open house for the citizens, and broached a cask of Madeira to regale the populace. In the other cities, and throughout the colonies, public thanksgivings were offered up in the churches for the restoration of harmony with England. The non-importation agree- ments were rescinded, the home-spun suits given to the poor, and the colonists again appeared in the silks and broadcloths of the parent country. Statues to the king were erected, and portraits of Lord Camden, Barre, and Conway adorned the public halls. But Pitt, above all, became the object of popular idolatry. Forgetful of his original intention to raise a revenue in America, and even of his recent reservation of the absolute power of parliament to re- gulate her commerce, his recent exertions in her cause were rewarded with enthusiastic gratitude. But as this first ebullition of rejoicing gradually died away, a reaction, broader and deeper than the first impulse of discontent, began to occupy its place. The recent agitation had accustomed all classes in America to the discussion of their rights, and rendered them increasingly susceptible of the slightest encroachment upon them. In the triumphant result of the recent struggle, they had found out the all-powerful effect of union and agitation. A popular party had been formed, embracing many of the most powerful minds in the colony, who, while they still used the language of loyalty, had adopted 2 Q A. D. 1766. A.D.I 766. 298 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, views which would have rendered them virtually, if not nominally, independ- ent of England. This was particularly the case in Massachusetts, where Governor Bernard, who saw the turn affairs were taking, was determined to assert the supreme authority of the mother country, and had thus become personally obnoxious to the liberals. Where the materials of discord were so abundant, and where the officers of the crown and the leaders of the people maintained an attitude of determined antagonism, it could not be long before fresh subjects of dispute were forthcoming. In his circular to the royal governors, Secretary Conway informed them, M that the king and parliament seemed disposed to forgive and forget the marks of an undutiful disposition too frequent in the late transactions, but desired them to recommend to the assemblies, the propriety of making full and ample compensation to those who had suffered for their deference to the act of the British legislature." On submitting this message to the Massa- chusetts assembly, Bernard observed that " the justice and humanity of this requisition was incontrovertible, while the authority with which it was intro- duced should preclude all disputation about it." Neither this message itself, nor the terms in which it was administered, were very palatable to the as- sembly. They were aware that its execution would be highly unpopular, denying, as it tacitly did, the right of the colonists to agitate for the abolition of a tax which the government itself had seen fit to repeal. They fastened therefore upon the language of the governor, observing that it was conceived in much higher and stronger terms than the letter of the secretary, and that if this recommendation, which his Excellency termed a requisition , be founded on so much justice and humanity that it could not be controverted, while the authority with which it is introduced should preclude all disputation about complying with it, — they sriould be glad to know what freedom they had in the case. It was not until after a protracted discussion that the indemnity was at length granted by the assembly ; but it displayed its real feeling on the subject, by coupling it with a general pardon, amnesty, and oblivion for the rioters ; and although this proviso, which gave the deepest offence to the king and ministry, was expressly disallowed by his Majesty as not being within the power of a colonial assembly to grant, the actors in the late disturb- ances remained unpunished. These political differences were greatly inflamed by personal jealousies and animosities. Among the leaders of the popular movement in Massachusetts, who now began to come prominently forward, were James Otis, Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, and John Hancock. The first of these patriots, it will be remembered, originally held a place under government, which he resigned in order to plead against the "writs of assistance," on which occasion his memorable speech had produced so thrilling an effect; and he was also the author of the pamphlet on colonial rights. Since that period he had continued the untiring and deadly antagonist of government. His character is thus sketched by the master-hand of John Adams : " He is fiery and feverous, his imagination flames, his passions blaze; he is liable to great HISTORY OF AMERICA. 299 inequalities of temper, sometimes in despondency, sometimes in a rage. The c ha p. rashnesses and imprudences into which his excesses of zeal have formerly — transported him, have made him enemies, whose malicious watch over him occasions more caution, and more cunning, and more inexplicable passages in his conduct than formerly, and perhaps views at the chair or the board, or possibly more expanded views beyond the Atlantic, may mingle now with his patriotism." Cushing, descended from an ancient colonial family, is described as being " steady and constant, busy in the interest of liberty and the oppo- sition, and famed for secrecy and talent at procuring intelligence." Samuel Adams, of the old Puritan stock and serious temper, poor, but of incorruptible integrity, and proof against the seductive offer of a government place, con- sidered to possess "the most thorough understanding of liberty, and her resources in the temper and character of the people, though not in the law and constitution, was gradually acquiring influence among the masses. Of the mercantile class, Bowdoin and Hancock were the chief leaders. The former, of French origin, possessed the largest fortune in Boston ; the latter, whose father and grandfather had been in the ministry, had also acquired great wealth, and was active, lively, and prepossessing in his manners. To these we may add, John Adams himself, a young lawyer of rising reputation and high character, afterwards president of the United States, and now becoming so influential among the liberals, that the government offered, and even press- ed on him, notwithstanding his known political principles, the place of Advo- cate-general, in the court of Admiralty, but which, having determined to cast in his lot with the popular party, he had decidedly refused to accept. The great majority, it should be observed, of those who stood at the head of the bar, still either ranged themselves on the side of government, or contrived at least to. observe a prudent neutrality. The assembly having chosen Otis as president, Governor Bernard re- fused to ratify a choice so unpleasant to himself and so opposed to the interests of the ministry. Otis in retaliation exerted himself successfully to get Hutchin- son and Oliver excluded from the council, in consequence of which the governor refused to second the nomination of the other members of their choice. The popular party hereupon became more stirring and energetic, and a step was now taken by them that tended materially to silence the friends of government, to compel the neutral to a choice of sides, and to stimulate the activity of the friends of the people. Hitherto the debates of the assembly had been carried on with closed doors ; they were now, through a decree ob- tained by the popular leaders, thrown open to the public, for whose accom- modation galleries were erected, so that they might see at once who were their friends or enemies. While affairs in Massachusetts thus became more and more threatening, New York was also involving herself in further diiputes with the ministry. An indemnity had been indeed voted for the loyalist sufferers in the recent riots, from the benefit of which, however, the vice-governor had been formally excluded, in consequence of his hostility to the people. The go- 2 q 2 300 HISTORY OF AMERICA. CI \-i. P ' vernor s expecting shortly the arrival of a body of troops under General Gage, A D l76J conformably to an Act passed by parliament at the same time as the Stamp Act for quartering troops in the colonies, sent a message to the assembly requiring them to make the necessary provision. This however, to the full extent re- quired, they refused to do, and thus assumed an attitude of determined resist- ance towards the government. Meanwhile another change had taken place in the British ministry. The Rockingham administration came to an end in July, 1766, and a new ministry was formed under the nominal leadership of Pitt, now created Earl of Chatham, who was however prevented by illness from taking part in the measures. Lord Shelburn and General Conway became secretaries of state ; Camden, lord chancellor ; Charles Townsend, chancellor of the Exchequer. This ad- ministration was of so chequered a character that it was described by Burke as " a piece of diversified Mosaic, a tesselated pavement without cement, here a bit of black stone, there a bit of white, patriots and courtiers, king's friends and republicans, Whigs and Tories, treacherous friends and open enemies, — a very curious show, but utterly unsafe to touch, and unsure to stand upon." The contumacy of the colonists greatly annoyed the king and ministry as well as the people at large, and it became the general impression, fortified by the representations of the colonial governors, and especially of Bernard, that greater firmness must be displayed in future. Grenville in particular, the author of the Stamp Act, by continually appealing to the pride of the ministry, seems to have been the chief agent in inducing them to impose a fresh tax upon the colonists. Declaiming, it is said, as usual on American affairs, he addressed himself particularly to the ministers. " You are cowards," he said, " you are afraid of the Americans, you dare not tax America." This he repeated in different language. Upon this Townsend took fire, immediately rose, and said, " Fear — fear — cowards — dare not tax America ! I dare tax America." Grenville stood silent for a moment, and then said, " Dare you tax America ? I wish to God I could see it." Townsend, indeed a man of brilliant abilities, was versa- tile, excitable, and inconsistent. He had warmly supported Grenville in passing the Stamp Act, and as warmly voted for its repeal, doubtless, it should be remembered, upon grounds of expediency alone. He now devised a new scheme, upon the ingenuity of which he congratulated himself, for raising a revenue in America without offending the feelings of the colonists, who, while they denied the right of parliament to impose upon them a direct internal tax, such as that upon stamps, had hitherto at least acquiesced in her right to levy external duties for the regulation of commerce. He brought in a bill for imposing a duty upon teas imported into America, together with paints, paper, glass, and lead, which were articles of British produce ; its alleged object being to raise a revenue for the support of the civil government, for the expense of a standing army, and for giving permanent salaries to the royal governors, with a view to render them independent of the colonial assemblies. In order to enforce the new Act and those already in existence, which, odious as they were to the Americans, had hitherto been continually A. D. 1767. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 301 evaded by them, a Board of Revenue Commissioners was to be established at chap Boston. Indignant, moreover, at the recent refusal of the New York assem- bly to comply with the provisions of the Act for quartering soldiers, notwith- standing their personal remonstrances, the ministers passed an Act restraining that body from any further legislative proceedings until they had submitted. These Acts, passed at home almost without opposition, arrived in America about the same time, and immediately rekindled the agitation, which, lulled for a moment by the repeal of the Stamp Act, now broke out more vigor- ously than ever. As indeed the tax upon tea, being distinctly external, differed entirely from that upon stamps, being in fact of the same nature as those upon molasses and other articles to which a reluctant submission had hitherto been afforded, it is possible that, under other circumstances, it might have passed into operation without exciting any great commotion. But the object for which it was levied tended to create a general odium in the minds of the colonists, excited as they were by jealous apprehensions of parliamen- tary encroachment. It was not only to raise a revenue from the colonies, but that revenue was moreover to be applied in strengthening the royal power, in enforcing the detested Acts of Trade, in rendering the governors independent, and in crushing resistance by the establishment of a standing army. Every day therefore the feeling of attachment to England grew weaker, and the desire for independence stronger. The nature of the connexion between the mother country and the colonies was the constant subject of discussion, and while the authority of England was reduced to a mere nullity, the pretensions of the Americans were gradually expanded, until the interference of parliament with the affairs of the colonies in any shape, and in any way, was boldly and em- phatically denied. Thus, as in the English parliament Grenville had denied the distinction between internal and external taxes, formerly so strenuously insisted on by the colonists, as fallacious, and thereon founded his argument for imposing the Stamp Act, so now, that tax being repealed, the Americans made use of the identical argument for refusing to submit to any other. This view of the subject was warmly advocated in a series of " Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies," written by John Dickenson, in which the right of parliamentary taxation in any shape whatever was strenuously denied. Franklin, who at first had inclined to the difference between external and internal taxation, now altered his opinion, and caused the " Letters " to be reprinted in London. "Warmly advocated by the colonial press, these views took possession of the minds of the people ; and thus the question between the contending parties, removed from its original ground, became increasingly difficult of solution. On the receipt of the new Acts, Governor Bernard had been solicited to call a special session of the general court to examine and discuss them ; a request with which he had refused to comply. When the court met two months afterwards, a committee was appointed to take into consideration the state of affairs. They drew up a humble petition to the king, in which they dwell upon the grant of their original charter, "with the conditions of which they had o02 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c » a p. fully complied, till in an unhappy time it was vacated." They next allude to A>ai767 - the subsequent and modified charter, granted by William and Mary, con- firming the same fundamental liberties granted them by the first. Acknow- ledging indeed the superintending authority of parliament, in all cases that can consist with the fundamental rights of nature and the constitution, they proceed as follows : " It is with the deepest concern that your humble suppli- ants would represent to your Majesty, that your parliament, the rectitude of whose intentions is never to be questioned, has thought proper to pass divers Acts imposing taxes on your subjects in America with the sole and express purpose of raising a revenue. If your Majesty's subjects here shall be de- prived of the honour and privilege of voluntarily contributing their aid to your Majesty, in supporting your government and authority in the province, and defending and securing your rights and territories in America, which they have always hitherto done with the utmost cheerfulness ; if these acts of parliament shall remain in force, and your Majesty's Commons in Great Bri- tain shall continue to exercise the power of granting the property of their fellow subjects in this province, your people must then regret their unhappy fate in having only the name left of free subjects. "With all humility we conceive that a representation of this province in parliament, considering their local circumstances, is utterly impracticable. Your Majesty has therefore been graciously pleased to order your requisitions to be laid before the repre- sentatives of your people in the general assembly, who have never failed to afford the necessary aid, to the extent of their ability, and sometimes beyond it, and it would be ever grievous to your Majesty's faithful subjects, to be called upon in a way that should appear to them to imply a distrust of their most ready and willing compliance." Besides this petition to the king, they sent letters of instructions to their agents, and also to Lords Shelburne, Con- way, Camden, Chatham, and other advocates of their cause. They adopted, moreover, a measure, the efficacy of which had been already tested, that of despatching a circular to the rest of the colonies, to engage them in a common resistance, concluding it with an expression of their " firm confidence in the king, their common head and father, that the united and dutiful supplications of his distressed American subjects will meet with his royal and favourable acceptance." No step could have given greater uneasiness or offence than this to the English ministry, who dreaded the union of the scattered States, and the gradual establishment of a colonial congress, as earnestly as those measures became the desire of the patriot party. Accordingly Lord Hillsborough, re- cently appointed to the new secretaryship of the colonies, desired Governor Bernard to press upon the House of Representatives the propriety of rescind- ing this resolution as " rash and hasty," and artfully procured by surprise against the general sense of the assembly, and to dissolve that body in case of refusal. He also addressed a circular with the same instructions to the rest of the royal governors. " As his Majesty considers this measure," it observed, " to be of the most dangerous and factious tendency, calculated to inflame the VI. A. D. V HISTORY OF AMERICA. 303 minds of his good subjects in the colonies, and promote an unwarrantable chap. combination, it is his Majesty's pleasure that you should exert your utmost influence to defeat this flagitious attempt to disturb the public peace, by pre- vailing upon the assembly of your province to take no notice of it, which will be treating it with the contempt it deserves." When Bernard communicated this message to the new assembly, they denied that the circular to the colonies had been unfairly passed, and flatly refused to comply with the ministerial suggestion. " If," they observed, "by the word rescinding is intended the passing a vote in direct and express disapprobation of the measure taken by the former house, we must take the liberty to declare that we take it to be the native right of the subject to petition the king for the redress of grievances. If the votes of the house are to be controlled by the direction of a minister, we have left us but a vain semblance of liberty. We have now only to inform you that this house have voted not to rescind, and that on a division on the question there were ninety-two nays and seventeen yeas." Otis made a speech characterized by his usual vehemence and daring, which was pronounced by the friends of government to be " the most violent, in- solent, abusive, and treasonable declaration, that perhaps was ever delivered." " When Lord Hillsborough," he said, " knows that we will not rescind our Acts, he should apply to parliament to rescind theirs. Let Britons rescind their measures, or they are lost for ever." The next day the House of Re- presentatives was dissolved by Bernard. His administration had become so odious, that a committee was appointed to draw up a list of accusations against him, and to entreat his removal from the province. Equally vain were the attempts of the royal governors to obtain a promise from the assemblies of the other colonies not to unite with that of Massachusetts, whose sentiments, on the contrary, they unanimously echoed. They refused one and all, and were dissolved accordingly. Not only were the ministerial requisitions set at nought, but it soon became evident that the recent Acts could never be carried into effect in defiance of the popular feeling. How hateful the custom-house officers had ever been in America, the difficulty and even danger with which the discharge of their functions was attended, as well as the systematic evasion of the duties, has been already mentioned. The presence therefore of the recently appointed commissioners of customs, animated by the determination to enforce these laws, could not fail to give rise to fresh commotions. Soon after their arrival the sloop " Liberty," laden with wines, was boarded and seized by them, and the officers, in the apprehension of a rescue, solicited aid from the captain of a ship of war in the harbour, who ordered the sloop to be cut from her fasten- ings and brought under the guns of his ship. This proceeding was greatly resented, especially as the sloop belonged to John Hancock, conspicuous, as before said, among the popular leaders. A mob collected, the custom-house officers, after being severely handled, narrowly escaped with their lives, and fled for refuge, first to the ship of war and afterwards to the castle, while their houses were attacked, and their boat dragged through the town, and afterwards 304 HISTORY OF AMERICA. CI vl P ' burned upon the common. The council, while they admitted the criminality aTdTT788! °^ t ^ le r i° ters > an( * recommended that they should be prosecuted, sought to extenuate their offence on the ground of the extraordinary proceedings of the custom-house officers, and as witnesses refused to come forward, the prosecu- tion fell to the ground. At the suggestion of the friends of government, who plainly perceived the impossibility of carrying out the , obnoxious laws except by force, two regi- ments had already been ordered to Boston, to which two others were now added. On learning this, a town meeting was called, which, having in vain requested the governor to summon a general court, took the bold step of summoning a convention of delegates from the different towns in the province, which, while they renounced legislative pretensions, should deliberate on the redress of grievances. A day of fasting and prayer was also appointed ; and here it may be well to observe, that the majority of the congregational ministers, who had looked with an evil eye on a recent attempt to establish Episcopacy in the province, warmly espoused the popular cause. Still more — on the pretence of apprehensions of " a war with France," all parties not already provided with fire-arms were advised to procure them at once. The summons was warmly responded to, delegates from more than a hundred towns assembled on the appointed day, and petitioned the governor to convene a general court. Bernard refused, and denounced the meeting as treasonable. Giving expression to their hatred of standing armies and declaring their readiness themselves to maintain the peace, after warm professions of loyalty, the delegates dispersed about the end of September, spreading through every part of the country the same spirit already so rife in Boston. The very day after they broke up their session the ships bearing two of the regiments arrived, and the governor requested the council to appoint them quarters in the town, as General Gage required him to do. The council replied, that there was already room in the barracks ; to which Bernard replied, that they were reserved for the two other regiments that were shortly ex- pected. There was a large building belonging to the province, and then occupied by some poor families, which the governor suggested might be cleared for the soldiers ; but the council, averring that by the terms of the Act the provision of quarters devolved on the local magistrates, refused to inter- fere. Some fears being even entertained that the inhabitants would oppose a landing, the guns of the ships were pointed on the town, and under their cover the troops were set ashore, and with muskets charged, bayonets fixed, and a train of artillery, they marched into the town. The overseers of Boston refused to appoint them quarters, but a temporary shelter was afforded to one regiment in Faneuil Hall, while the other pitched their tents on the common. Next morning the governor ordered a portion to occupy the state-house, with the exception of the council-chamber alone, the main guard with two field-pieces being stationed at the front. It was the sabbath day, and such a one as had never before been known in Boston. The place looked like a town in a state of siege. All the public buildings were filled A.D. 1768, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 305 with soldiers, parties of whom were constantly marching to and fro to relieve c ha p. guard. The peaceful citizens were challenged by sentinels as they passed to church, and the public exercises of devotion, so strictly and solemnly ob- served, interrupted by the roll of drums, and the thrilling sounds of military music. A spectacle so galling had never been witnessed by the colonists ; with indignation they felt, even to the lowest depth of their hearts, the bitterness of their dependence upon a distant power. On the opening of parliament, the papers connected with the late proceed- ings at Boston were laid before the House of Lords, who, already strongly prejudiced against the colonists, now passed resolutions declaring that the election of deputies to sit in convention, and the meeting of that convention, were daring insults to his Majesty's authority, and audacious usurpations of the power of government. They gave the ministers the strongest assurance of support, and suggested that the governor of Massachusetts should be directed to procure the fullest information touching all treasons or misprisions of treason committed there since Dec, 1767, and transmit the ringleaders to England for trial, under an obsolete statute of the reign of King Henry VIII. These resolutions sent down to the Commons, occasioned a vigorous opposition, but so deeply were parliament and the entire nation offended by the behavi- our of the Americans that they passed by a large majority, and were em- bodied in a joint address to the king. When the news of these proceedings reached America, Massachusetts pos- sessed no general assembly, but that of Virginia immediately took up their discussion with their wonted spirit, and immediately drew up several resolu- tions, which their speaker was directed to forward for concurrence to the rest of the colonial assemblies. In defence of the proceedings in Massachusetts, and in deprecation of the ministerial threats, they declared that "the sole right of imposing taxes on the inhabitants of this colony is now and ever hath been legally and constitutionally vested in the house of burgesses, with consent of the council, governor, and king ; that it is the privilege of the inhabitants to petition their sovereign for the redress of grievances, and lawful to procure the concurrence of the other colonies to this end ; that all trials for tre^on, or misprision of treason, ought to be before his Majesty's courts in the colonies ; and that the seizing any citizen suspected merely of any crime is a derogation from the rights of British subjects, as thereby the inestimable privilege of being tried by a jury from the vicinage, as well as the liberty of producing witnesses on such trial, will be taken away from the party accused." Although this decided protest was, as usually the case, accompanied by a loyal address to the king, on the following day, Lord Botetourt, then governor of Virginia, suddenly appearing in the midst of the assembly, abruptly put an end to its session, in these words : " Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen of the House of Burgesses, I have heard of your resolves, and augur ill of their effects. You have made it my duty to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly." The indignant members immediately adjourned to a tavern, and choosing .Peyton Randolph, their late speaker, as chairman, adopted strong resolutions 2 B A. D. 1769. HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ^i P- against the importation of British goods ; an example speedily followed by the rest of the colonies, which were animated by the same determined spirit. The troops still continued to occupy Boston, where the popular exasperation was every day increasing. The first thing done by the general court, upon its assembling in May, was to address a spirited remonstrance on this subject to the governor, declaring that an armament by land and sea, and a military guard with cannon pointed at the very door of the state-house, were incon- sistent with that dignity and freedom with which their deliberations could alone be carried on, and they consequently expected that his Excellency would, as the king's representative, give orders for the removal of the forces during the session of the assembly. The governor curtly declared in reply, that he had no authority whatever over the ships in the harbour, or the troops within the town. The assembly declared their intention of suspending all business, and of voting no supplies, until their petitions were attended to : the governor, complaining of their conduct as a waste of time and money, adjourned them to the neighbouring village of Cambridge. Thither, on the 6th of July, he for- warded to them an account of the expenditure already incurred by quartering the troops, requiring them, according to the Act of Parliament, not only to liquidate the outstanding debt, but also to make provision for the continued ac- commodation of the soldiers. Exasperated to the highest pitch, the assembly passed a resolution that the " general discontent on account of the Revenue Acts, the expectation of a sudden arrival of a military power to enforce them, an apprehension of the troops being quartered upon the inhabitants, and the general court dissolved, the governor refusing to call a new one, and the people reduced almost to a state of despair, rendered it highly expedient and necessary for the people to convene by their committees, to associate and con- sult upon the best means to promote peace and good order, to present their united complaints to the throne, and pray for the royal interposition in favour of their violated rights ; nor can this proceeding possibly be illegal, as they expressly disclaim all governmental acts. That the establishment of a standing army in the colony in time of peace is an invasion of their natural rights ; that a standing army is no part of the British constitution ; and that to send an armed force among them under pretence of assisting the civil authority is highly dangerous to the people, and both unprecedented and unconstitutional. The governor calling upon them to declare decidedly whether they would or not make provisioi^for the troops, they boldly spoke out as follows : " Of all the new regulations, the Stamp Act not excepted, this under consideration is most excessively unreasonable. Your Excellency must therefore excuse us in this express declaration, that as we cannot consistently with our honour and interest, much less with the duty we owe to our constituents, so we never will make provision for the purposes in your several messages above mentioned." Bernard, upon this, prorogued the assembly until the 10th of January, ap- pointing them to meet at Boston. While these stormy proceedings were going on, the ministry at home, con- vinced that the maintenance of the obnoxious duties, and also of a standing army HISTORY OF AMERICA. 307 in America, was not only an impolitic measure, but also a seriously losing c iu p. concern, the Earl of Hillsborough addressed a circular to the governors, the - publication of which was expected to allay the general perturbation. While strenuously asserting the legislative authority of Great Britain, he added as a salvo, that he " could take upon himself to assure them that, notwithstanding insinuations to the contrary from men with factious and seditious views, his Majesty's administration never entertained an idea of proposing further taxes upon America for the purpose of raising a revenue ; and that it was their in- tention, the next session of parliament, to take off the duties upon glass, paper, and colours, all of them British goods, such duties having been laid contrary to the true principles of commerce." Conway, the stanch friend of the colonists, declared in the house, that " if he understood the language of common sense, here was the strongest renunciation of the right of taxation." Such was not, however, the real intention of the English ministry ; while desirous of concili- ation, they still maintained the tax on tea, thus reserving the question at issue, and it was in this light that their conduct was regarded by the Americans. Accordingly, so far from relaxing their opposition, the latter continued the business of agitation with the greater spirit, as perceiving clearly that it was to this alone they were indebted for every concession extorted from the ministry, and to this alone they must look in carrying the point they were contending for. A meeting of the trading classes took place in Boston, at which it was declared that the repeal of only a part of the Act was an insidious measure, intended to give relief to the manufacturers in Great Britain, and to prevent the colonists from setting up manufactories for themselves, and therefore, so long as the revenue laws remained unrepealed, no further importations, with the exception of certain articles, should be made from England. A committee was appointed to obtain a written pledge from the inhabitants, not to make any purchases from such as should infringe this rule, to inspect the cargoes of vessels, and to publish the names of all importers unless they immediately delivered their goods into the hands appointed to receive them. These regu- lations, carried out in the other colonies, savour slightly of an arbitrary and inquisitorial character, and many were terrified into a compliance with them by the dread of popular odium. Party spirit rose every day higher and bit- terer, and the same nicknames of Whig and Tory, by which the two great parties in England were designated, were applied with equal acrimony on the other side of the Atlantic. In the midst of this scene of agitation, Governor Bernard proposed to leave Massachusetts, having, as he had some time previously informed the house, been summoned to England to lay the condition of the province before his Majesty. The firmness, not to say severity, with which he had maintained his administration, had rendered him generally unpopular, and this unpopularity had been greatly increased through the feuds that had arisen between himself and the leading agitators, whose factious encroachments, as he deemed them, he had steadily resisted in the colony, and denounced in his private letters to government, copies of which had been surreptitiously obtained and circulated. 2 b 2 308 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. The assembly unanimously voted a petition to the king that he might be for ever removed from the government of the province. There can be no doubt that A. D. 1769. . . ' his administration precipitated a collision between England and her colonies, but we can hardly lay upon him as a fault, what was in reality attributable to the position in which he stood. Believing as he did that England had a right to tax the colonies, it was his duty as a royal governor to maintain that right at all events. Aware of the wide-spread spirit of disaffection and of the manoeu- vres of the popular leaders, the ultimate tendency of whose proceedings he foresaw better than perhaps they did themselves, he cannot be blamed for coun- selling the adoption of decided measures of repression. But these very con- siderations, which must form his excuse to posterity, rendered him peculiarly odious to the colonists. Leaving the administration in the hands of Lieu- tenant-Governor Hutchinson, whose unpopularity was hardly less than his own, he embarked on board a man of war appointed to convey him to Eng- land, to the infinite satisfaction of the people. To grace his departure, the bells were rung, salvos of artillery were fired from Hancock's wharf, " liberty tree " was adorned with flags, and at night a great bonfire was made upon Fort Hill. Not long after his departure an indictment was proved against him for libel, in writing slanderous letters to the government concerning the inhabitants of the province. The king however, appreciating his zealous services, indemnified him for these vexations by creating him a baronet. The non-importation agreements were vigorously resumed throughout the colonies, and in carrying them out the women rendered themselves con- spicuous for their self-denial and patriotic zeal. At Newport, in Rhode Island, at an afternoon meeting of ladies, it was resolved that those who could spin should be employed in that way, and that those who could not should sew. When the tea-time arrived, both tea and hyperion, an imitation composed of raspberry leaves, were handed round, when all the ladies displayed their patriotism by preferring the latter. At Boston, a party of fifty young ladies, calling themselves " Daughters of Liberty," met at the house of their pastor, and employed themselves in spinning yarn for the poor. Numerous spec- tators came in, refreshments were provided, and tunes, anthems, and liberty songs were chanted, the " sons of liberty " joining in chorus. This was an earnest of the spirit displayed by the American women throughout the revo- lution, during which the trials and privations they underwent, and the hero- ism with which they endured them, have formed the subject of many a ro- mantic narrative. A few merchants, disregarding the public feeling, still continued to vend the obnoxious article. A mob of boys, probably at the instigation of their elders, raised a rude wooden head with a finger pointed like a sign post, opposite to the establishment of an individual named Lillie. One of his friends endeavouring to pull it down, the mob pelted him with stones into Lillie's house, whence, in a state of exasperation, he fired a loaded musket into the midst of the crowd, thus killing one boy and wounding another. He was instantly dragged off to prison, and afterwards condemned for murder, but HISTORY OF AMERICA. 309 the sentence was never executed. The boy's corpse was enclosed in a coffin, chap. inscribed, " Innocence itself is not safe," and carried to " liberty tree," " — A. D. 1770. whence several hundred school-boys and a host of the inhabitants conducted it to its final resting-place. The newspapers and popular orators took up the topic, and the unfortunate lad was regarded as the first victim to the cause of American liberty. The presence of the troops in the town of Boston, notwithstanding the efforts of the commandant to mitigate the show of military occupation, was a source of perpetual irritation. The soldiers were detested by the people, whom they in their turn abhorred as rebels to the king. A certain party, practising on the public feeling, used every art to provoke a collision with the soldiers ; libels were published in the newspapers, and a mob of men made it a constant practice to insult them. A ropemaker having maltreated one of the soldiers, the latter fetched a body of his comrades, and a fight took place in which the soldiers came off" second best. The soldiers returning to the barracks fetched a body of their comrades, who in their turn beat the rope- makers, which greatly irritated the populace, and determined them to have their revenge. On the evening of March 5, a mob of several hundred armed with clubs assembled, threatening destruction to the soldiers, exclaiming, " Let us drive out these rascals, they have no business here — drive them out." The soldiers, threatened and insulted, were with difficulty restrained from march- ing out and attacking the mob. The confusion became fearful, the mob con- tinuing to shout, " Down with the bloody-backs," and tearing up the market stalls — the alarm bells rung — the cry of Fire, fire, re-echoed through the streets. Some leading citizens were endeavouring to induce the mob to disperse, when a tall man, in a red cloak and white wig, commenced a violent harangue, con- cluding with the shout " To the main guard, to the main guard," — re-echoed with fearful energy by the infuriated mob. As they passed the custom-house, a boy exclaimed, pointing to the sentinel — " That's the scoundrel that knocked me down." " Let us knock him down, the bloody-back," was the reply ; and the soldier was instantly assailed with lumps of ice and other missiles. Alarmed for his life, he cried to the main guard for assistance, and a picket of eight men with unloaded muskets was despatched by Captain Preston to his relief. At this sight the fury of the mob increased to the highest pitch, they received the soldiers with a torrent of abusive epithets, and pelted them with stones covered with snow, dared them to fire, and completely surrounding them, pressed up to the very point of their bayonets. The soldiers loaded their muskets, but one Attucks, a powerful mulatto, at the head of a body of sailors, urged on the mob to exterminate the handful of military, and struck upon the bayonets with their clubs. "Come on," he exclaimed, "don't be afraid of them — they dare not fire — knock 'em over, kill 'em." Captain Preston com- ing up at this moment was received by Attucks with a violent blow. The Captain parried it with his arm, but it knocked the bayonet out of one of the soldier's hands, which was instantly seized by Attucks, and a struggle took place, in the midst of which some of those behind called out, " Why don't I A. D. 1770 I I 310 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ii a p. y OU fi^ wnv don't you fire ? " whereupon the soldier, suddenly springing to his legs, shot Attucks dead upon the spot. Five other soldiers immediately fired, when three men were killed, five seriously wounded, and a few others slightly hurt. The mob fell back awhile, and carried off the dead and wounded. The tumult became fearful, at ten o'clock the alarm bell began to toll, and drums to beat ; the cry was, " Tlie soldiers are risen" and thousands of citizens flew to arms in all directions. Some people ran hastily to summon the lieutenant-governor, who hurried to the spot, and reproached Preston with firing on the people without an order from the magistrates. " To the town- house, the town-house," exclaimed some, fearful for the personal safety of Hutchinson, who, such was the pressure of the mob, was fairly driven before it up the stairs into the council-chamber. Here a demand was made of him that he would order the troops to retire to their barracks, which he refused to do, but stepping forth to the balcony, assured the people of his great concern at the unhappy event, that a rigorous inquiry about it should take place, and entreated them to retire to their homes. Upon this there was a cry of " Home, home," and the greater part separated peaceably. The troops returned to the barracks. A warrant was then issued against Preston, who surrendering himself, was committed to prison to take his .trial, together with several of the soldiers. On this eventful evening, John Adams had been spending the evening at Mr. Henderson Inches's house, at the south end of Boston, in the society of a friendly club. " About nine o'clock," he says in his journal, " we were alarmed with the ringing of bells, and, supposing it to be the signal of fire, we snatched our hats and cloaks, broke up the club, and went out to assist in quenching the fire, or aiding our friends who might be in danger. In the street we were informed that the British soldiers had fired on the inhabitants, killed some and wounded others, near the town-house. A crowd of people was flowing down the street to the scene of action. When we arrived, we saw nothing but some field-pieces, placed before the south door of the town- house, and some engineers and grenadiers drawn up to protect them. Having surveyed round the town-house, and seeing all quiet, I walked down Boylston Alley into Brattle Square, where a company or two of regular soldiers were drawn up in front of Dr. Cooper's old church, with their muskets all should- ered, and their bayonets all fixed. I had no other way to proceed but along the whole front in a very narrow space which they had left for foot passen- gers. Pursuing my way, without taking the least notice of them, or they of me. any more than if they had been marble statues, I went directly home to Cole Lane. " My wife having heard that the town was still, and likely to continue so, had recovered from her first apprehensions, and we had nothing but our re- flections to interrupt our repose. These reflections were to me disquieting enough. Endeavours had been systematically pursued for many months, by certain busy characters, to excite quarrels, rencounters, and combats, single or compound, in the night, between the inhabitants of the lower class and the soldiers, and at all risks to enkindle an immortal hatred between them. a. d. irro. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 311 I suspected that this was the explosion which had been intentionally wrought chap up by designing men, who knew what they were aiming at better than the instruments employed. If these poor tools should be prosecuted for any of their illegal conduct, they must ht punished. If the soldiers in self-defence should kill any of them, they must be tried, and, if truth was respected and the law prevailed, must be acquitted. To depend upon the perversion of law, and the corruption or partiality of juries, would insensibly disgrace the juris- prudence of the country, and corrupt the morals of the people. It would be better for the whole people to rise in their majesty and insist on the removal of the army, and take upon themselves the consequences, than to excite such passions between the people and the soldiers as would expose both to con- tinual prosecution, civil or criminal, and keep the town boiling in a continual fermentation. The real and full intentions of the British government and nation were not yet developed ; and we knew not whether the town would be supported by the country ; whether the province would be supported by even our neighbouring States of New England ; nor whether New England would be supported by the continent. These were my meditations in the night. " The next morning, I think it was, sitting in my office, near the steps of the town-house stairs, Mr. Forrest came in, who was then called the Irish Infant. I had some acquaintance with him. With tears streaming from his eyes, he said, ' I am come with a very solemn message from a very unfortu- nate man, Captain Preston, in prison. He wishes for counsel, and can get none. I have waited on Mr. Quincy, who says he will engage, if you will give him your assistance; without it, he positively will not. Even Mr. Auchmuty declines, unless you will engage.' I had no hesitation in answer- ing, that counsel ought to be the very last thing that an accused person should want in a free country ; that the bar ought, in my opinion, to be in- dependent and impartial, at all times and in every circumstance, and that persons whose lives were at stake ought to have the counsel they preferred. But he must be sensible this would be as important a cause as was ever tried in any court or country of the world ; and that every lawyer must hold him- self responsible not only to his country, but to the highest and most infallible of all tribunals, for the part he should act. He must, therefore, expect from me no art or address, no sophistry or prevarication, in such a cause, nor any thing more than fact, evidence, and law would justify. ' Captain Preston/ he said, I requested and desired no more ; and that he had such an opinion from all he had heard from all parties of me, that he could cheerfully trust his life with mc upon those principles.' ' And,' said Forrest, ' as God Al- mighty is my judge, I believe him an innocent man.' I replied, f that must be ascertained by his trial, and if he thinks he cannot have a fair trial of that issue without my assistance, without hesitation, he shall have it.' " Before this, almost with the dawn of day, the people began to reassemble, and Fanueil Hall was soon filled with the excited citizens. A town meeting was convened, at which it was voted that nothing " could prevent blood and 312 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1770. CH Y f Pi carnage but the immediate removal of the troops." The justices also had assembled, and had come to the same conclusion. Samuel Adams was there- fore deputed to wait on Hutchinson at the council-chamber, where Colonel Dalrymple, the commandant of the troops, and the commander of the ships in the harbour, were awaiting him. The vice-governor refused to assume the responsibility of ordering away the troops, but Colonel Dalrymple consented that the 29th regiment, which was particularly obnoxious to the people, should be removed to the castle for the present. " Sir," said Adams, " if the lieu- tenant-governor, or Colonel Dalrymple, or both together, have authority to remove one regiment, they have authority to remove two, and nothing short of the departure of both regiments will satisfy the public mind or preserve the peace of the province." Another pressing message coming in from the town meeting, Hutchinson was at length persuaded to give orders, with much reluctance, that the troops should be wholly withdrawn from the town. The news of the " Boston Massacre," as it was called, spread like wildfire, and added greatly to the popular resentment. As a matter of policy, care was taken that the obsequies of the deceased should be performed with the utmost solemnity. On the morning of the 8th of March, the shops were all shut, and the bells of Boston and the neighbourhood were tolled. The mourners ac- companying the different coffins assembled on the spot where three days be- fore these " martyrs of liberty," as they were proclaimed, had been shot by a barbarous soldiery, and thence, followed by an immense number of people walking six abreast, and a file of carriages belonging to the principal people of the town, the procession slowly moved to the place of the sepulture, where the bodies were deposited in a single tomb. This incident, the memory of which was carefully kept up, made a profound sensation on the public mind. No one could forget that, to quote from a diary of the period, " blood lay in puddles yesterday in King Street " — the first blood hitherto drawn in these unhappy disputes. The trial of Captain Preston soon afterwards came on, and had been con- tinued through a single term, when an election was held for the representation of Boston, and it is highly creditable to the electors that, unpopular as John Adams had rendered himself with certain classes by undertaking the defence of Preston, he was nevertheless elected by a very large majority. Nor is the issue of this trial less honourable to the independence of the colonial judiciary. An immense and highly excited auditory had assembled, when Adams opened the case as follows : " May it please your honours, and you gentlemen of the jury, I am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in the words of the Marquis Beccaria — ' If I can be but the instrument of pre- serving one life, his blessing and tears of transport shall be a sufficient conso- lation to me for the contempt of all mankind.' " The effect upon the jury and court was perfectly electrical. The facts of the case were impartially investi- gated, and Preston was declared innocent — the judge declaring, " I feel myself deeply affected that this affair turns out so much to the shame of the town in general." " Calumnies and insinuations," says Adams in his diary, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 313 " were propagated against me, that I was tempted to undertake this case by cha p. great fees and enormous sums of money. Twenty guineas," he then tells ■ — us, " was all I ever received for fourteen or fifteen days' labour in .the most exhausting and fatiguing cause I ever tried, for hazarding a popularity very general and very hardly earned, and for incurring a clamour, popular suspi- cions, and prejudices, which are not yet worn out, and never will be forgotten as long as the history of this period is read. Although the clamour has been long and loud among some sorts of people, it has been a great consolation to me, through life, that I acted in this business with steady impartiality, and conducted it to so happy an issue." Shortly after the massacre, the lieutenant-governor postponed the meeting of assembly from January to March, and ordered it to be convened at Boston, in consequence of instructions to that effect from the British ministry. When the assembly met, he declared his intention faithfully to discharge his duty to the king, his royal master, and his readiness to unite with the members in any measures for the welfare of the province. He took no notice of the mas- sacre, it not yet having been legally investigated, but shortly afterwards sent down to the house requesting redress for some injury received by one of the custom-house officers. The reply of the assembly fully shows the excited state of the public mind. " When complaints," they say, " are made of riots and tumults, it is the wisdom of government, and it becomes the representa- tives of the people especially, to inquire into the real causes of them. If they arise from oppression, as is often the case, a thorough redress of grievances will remove the cause, and probably put an end to the complaint. It may be justly said of the people of this province, that they seldom, if ever, have assembled in a tumultuous manner, unless they were oppressed." Appealing then to the Bill of Rights passed after the Revolution of 1689, they declare that the maintenance of a standing army in their midst " is a most violent in- fraction of their natural and constitutional rights — an unlawful assembly, of all others most dangerous and alarming." They next enlarge upon the delinquencies of the soldiers, especially "in perpetrating the most horrid slaughter of a number of the inhabitants, but a few days before the sitting of this assembly." They express their surprise that there should be no allusion either in the governor's speech or message to both houses of this inhuman and barbarous action. To these violences, and the rigorous prosecutions, grounded on unconstitutional Acts, carried on by the court of Admiralty, they attribute the general excitement, and the particular injury complained of by the go- vernor. " The use therefore," they conclude, " which we shall make of the in- formation in your message, shall be to inquire into the grounds of the people's uneasiness, and to seek a radical redress of their grievances. Indeed it is natural to expect, that while the terror of arms continues in the province, the laws will be, in some degree, silent. But when the channels of justice shall be again opened, and the law can be heard, the person who has complained to your honour will have a remedy. Yet we entertain hope, that the military power, so grievous to the people, will soon be removed from the province t till then, 2 8 314 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, we have nothing to expect, bnt that tyranny and confusion will prevail, in defiance of the laws of the land, and the just and constitutional authority of AD. 1770. government." Meanwhile a change in the English ministry, momentous in its results for America, had taken place, and Lord North, head of the Tory party in the last ministry, had been appointed the head of a new cabinet composed of men of his own political views. On the very night of the Boston massacre a bill was brought into the House of Commons for the repeal of all the recently imposed taxes, that on tea alone excepted. The impolicy of maintaining this exception was strenuously urged by the opposition, especially by Pownall, who, from his experience as governor in the colony, was fully qualified to ap- preciate both the jealous watchfulness of the Americans over their liberties, and, what the ministry never understood till too late, their firm determination to maintain them at all events. Even the entire repeal of the obnoxious Acts would not of itself, he believed, entirely tranquillize the colonists. " The Ame- ricans," he observed, "think that they have, in return to all their applications, experienced a temper and disposition that is unfriendly, and that the en- joyment and exercise of the common rights of freemen have been refused to them. Never with these views will they solicit the favour of this House, never more will they wish to bring before parliament the grievances under which they conceive themselves to labour." The spirit of opposition shown by the Americans had however given such deep offence to the king and ministry, that they resolved never to yield up the disputed right of taxation. In this spirit Lord North declared that the tax on tea, in itself too trifling in amount to become a matter of grievance, was expressly maintained to assert the power of parliament over the refractory colonies. " Has the repeal of the Stamp Act," he asked, " taught the Americans obedi- ence ? Has our lenity inspired them with moderation ? Can it be proper, while they deny our legal power to tax them, to acquiesce in the argument of illegality, and by the repeal of the whole law, to give up that power ? No ; the most proper time to exert our right of taxation is when the right is denied. To temporize is to yield, and the authority of the mother country, if it is now unsupported, will in reality be relinquished for ever. A total repeal cannot be thought of, till America is prostrate at our feet." Although it maybe doubtful whether, after what had passed, any amount of concession short of at least virtual independence, would finally have satisfied the colonists, we must yet consider this particular measure, to carry out which the pride of the king and ministers was pledged, as the immediate cause of the disruption of Ame- rica from England. Yet it was at the time regarded by the minister rather as having a tendency to conciliation ; even the opposition to the tea tax he thought would be disarmed, as by offering a drawback of a shilling duty upon its export from England, it virtually became nine-pence a pound cheaper to the Americans. The repeal of the other duties did in fact lead to a giving up of the non-importation resolutions, which imposed a severe, and often unwelcome, self-denial upon the colonists ; but their opposition in all other respects con- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 315 tinued unabated. Such was the state of affairs at the termination of the year chap. 1770. J 1, In the ensuing spring, Hutchinson received the appointment of governor, ' 1772. which, it was said, had always been the object of his ambition, but which in these stormy times he was, if we may believe his own assurances, so far from desiring, that he had written to the secretary of state desiring to be super- seded in his office of lieutenant-governor. During the year 1771 there was a temporary lull in agitation, which was awakened next year by Hut- chinson's informing the house of representatives that thenceforth his salary would be paid by the crown, and that no allowance would therefore be re- quired of them for that purpose. Far from regarding this as a measure of relief, the people looked upon it, and justly, as intended to withdraw the governor from dependence on themselves, and to enable him to carry out the designs of the ministers without control. The matter was immediately taken up. The representatives of Massachusetts, at their session in July, declared the measure to be " an infraction of their charter," which they regarded as " a solemn contract between the crown and the inhabitants of the province." In reply, the governor, repudiating this doctrine, declared the charter to be not " a contract between two independent parties, but a mere grant of powers and privileges from the king, which the people of the province could claim only so long as the sovereign chose to ratify it, and what he always had the power to annul." De jure perhaps the colonists were right ; de facto the governor had certainly precedent to plead. It may be questioned indeed whether, in the grant of the original charter of Massachusetts, the supreme power of the king was not tacitly involved ; but that charter had in fact been abrogated by Charles II., and many alterations, and some of them salutary, had been effected in it. The most ardent advocate of American claims may then admit, with Guizot, that " the aggression of England," viz. in the matter of taxation, " was not new, nor altogether arbitrary ; it had its historical founda- tions, and might pretend to some right." The truth seems to be, that the claims of the conflicting parties were in their very nature irreconcilable, and could not be solved by a mere appeal to charters and to precedents. How- ever just it might be in the abstract, the doctrine of the Americans which denied the controlling power of parliament, (a right hitherto admitted, at least, in the external regulation of commerce,) proved in fact too much, for, fairly carried out, it involved no less then independence. If parliament, as the royalists argued, might lay no duties on the colonists, if the latter might law- fully resist their imposition, if the king might not legally quell that resistance by force, if the royal governor, in the exercise of his executive functions, was to be dependent on the legislative assembly, until he had ratified their mea- sures, or until he had given up the maintenance of the royal prerogative, the dependence of America on the mother country was merely nominal. To have granted her independence at once, would have been the only consistent course of policy ; but this was a policy not to be expected at that day of an English ministry, and not even looked for by the Americans themselves. On 2 s 2 316 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 1773. c ^ A p - the other hand, to submit any longer to foreign restrictions upon their com- merce, or to a perpetual check upon their legislative freedom of action, enforced upon them by the strong arm of a. distant power, was grown to be utterly in- supportable. Unprepared however boldly to throw off the yoke of the mother country, and yet determined no longer to submit to it, the Americans, at this crisis of the dispute, determined on drawing up a more careful and compre- hensive statement of their rights and grievances than they had ever hitherto put forth. This reply to Hutchinson, at first drafted by Samuel Adams, embodied the usual popular arguments, and it is supposed was afterwards revised in committee by John Adams himself, and placed, by his skill as a jurist, upon legal and constitutional grounds, forming as it stands the most celebrated state paper of the revolutionary controversy in Massachusetts. The bitter feeling against Hutchinson was shortly afterwards increased to the highest pitch by the following remarkable incident. Several of his private letters to persons connected with government had been artfully abstracted from the office by Dr. Williamson, who having learned that they were deposited in a drawer different from that in which they ought to have been placed, boldly repaired to the chief clerk and demanded the letters, naming the office in which they ought to have been deposited, and having thus obtained and placed them in the hands of Franklin, the very next day set sail for Holland. Franklin appears at first to have thought that the recent acts were rather forced upon the king by his ministers, but in a letter written shortly afterwards to his son, he seems to have got a new light, for he observes, " Between you and me, the late measures have been, I suspect, very much the king's own, and he has, in some cases, a great share of what his friends call firmness." Yet he had hitherto used his utmost endeavours to promote a conciliation. These letters of Hutchinson thus put into his hand, and obtained without any con- nivance on his part, although many of them were strictly private, yet as their tenor was to influence the ministry to still severer measures of repression, he thought himself justified, having been lately appointed agent for Massachusetts, in sending to Boston, to be communicated only to a few confidential persons, and neither to be copied nor printed. There, however, upon the motion of Samuel Adams, they were read under certain restrictions in the house of assem- bly, and were at length made known to the public. They gave, as might be expected, a most unfavourable picture of the state of affairs, the temper of the people, and especially of the popular leaders, who were accused of making up by their audacity and turbulence for their want of respectability and influence, suggested the necessity of the most coercive measures, and a considerable change in the constitution and system of government, and even the "taking off" the principal opponents to the British domination. The effect they produced was convulsive. They were regarded, to use the words of John Adams, as part of a " mystery of iniquity," concocted between the governor and the parliament. The assembly unanimously resolved, " that the tendency and design of the said letters was to overthrow the constitution of this government, and to in- troduce arbitrary power into the province." They moreover passed a vote, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 317 u that a petition should be immediately sent to the king, to remove the governor, c ha p. Hutchinson, and the vice-governor, Oliver, for ever from the government of AD. 1774 the province." This petition, sent over to Franklin, was transmitted by him to Lord Dartmouth, the then colonial secretary ; and he appeared to support it at council-chamber on the 11th of July, 1774, but finding that the governor intended to employ counsel, he prayed and obtained a three weeks' adjournment of the inquiry. Meanwhile two gentlemen of the colonial office having suspected each other of the abstraction of the letters, a duel took place between them, when one of them was dangerously wounded. Franklin hereupon inserted a letter in the " Public Advertiser," exonerating both parties, and taking upon him- self the entire responsibility of having obtained the documents. When the day came on for the hearing of the cause, Franklin, accompanied by his friend Dr. Priestley, repaired to the council to support the Massachusetts petition, when, to the evident satisfaction of the members, he was assailed by Wedderburne, the advocate for Hutchinson, in terms which, to one who justly stood so high in the estimation of his countrymen and mankind, and conscious as he was of his innocence of the principal charge in general, must have required his utmost philosophy to endure. " The letters," said the caustic advocate, " could not have come to Dr. Franklin by fair means. The writers did not give them to him, nor yet did the deceased correspondent. Nothing, then, will acquit Dr. Franklin of the charge of obtaining them by fraudulent or corrupt means, for the most ma- lignant of purposes, unless he stole them from the person that stole them. This argument is irrefragable." Here, however, the advocate certainly went a little too far; since Franklin had only received the letters from the person who stole them. " I hope, my Lords," continued Wedderburne, " you will mark and brand the man, for the honour of this country, of Europe, and of mankind. Private correspondence has hitherto been held sacred in times of the greatest party rage, not only in politics but in religion. He has forfeited all the respect of societies and of men. Into what companies will he hereafter go with an unembarrassed face, or the honest intrepidity of virtue ? Men will watch him with a jealous eye — they will hide their papers from him, and lock up their cscritoirs. He will henceforth esteem it a libel to be called a man of letters, homo irium literarum. But he not only took away the letters from one brother, but kept himself concealed till he nearly occasioned the murder of the other. " It is impossible to read his account, expressive of the coolest and most deliberate malice, without horror. Amidst these tragical events, of one person nearly murdered, of another answerable for the issue, of a worthy governor hurt in his dearest interests, the fate of America in suspense, here is a man, who, with the utmost insensibility of remorse, stands up and avows him- self the author of all. I can compare it only to Zanga in Dr. Young's Revenge — 318 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C %f t P ' ' Know, then, 'twas I ; I forged the letter ; I disposed the picture* A,D# 1773> I hated, I despised, and I destroy.' I ask, my Lords, whether the revengeful temper attributed, by poetic fiction only, to the bloody African, is not surpassed by the coolness and apathy of the wily American ? " During this trying scene, the temper of Franklin appeared impassible, and he preserved his countenance unmoved. Unable to explain the way in which the letters fell into his hands, he was compelled to submit in silence to the charges made against his honour. But the sarcasms and insults of Wedder- burne wounded him so profoundly, that he declared to Priestley after he had left the council-room that he would never again put on the suit he then wore until he had received satisfaction. And it is said that he never dressed himself in it again until the memorable day, when he signed at Paris the treaty which deprived Great Britain for ever of her dominions in North America. The petition was voted scandalous and vexatious, and Franklin dismissed from his office of postmaster-general. The altered state of his feelings, pro- duced by the treatment of the petition and the opprobium heaped upon himself, appears in these words : " When I see that all petitions and complaints of grievances are so odious to government, that even the mere pipe which con- veys them becomes obnoxious, I am at a loss to know how peace and union is to be maintained or restored between the different parts of the empire. Grievances cannot be redressed unless they are known, and they cannot be known but through complaints and petitions. If these are deemed affronts, and the messengers punished as offenders, who will henceforth send petitions ? and who will deliver them ? It has been thought a dangerous thing in any state to stop up the vent of grief. Wise governments have therefore generally re- ceived petitions with some indulgence, even when but slightly founded. Those who think themselves injured by their rulers, are sometimes, by a mild and prudent answer, convinced of their error. But where complaining is a crime, hope becomes despair." It was before this period of excitement, in 1770, that Otis, who had so greatly tended to bring it about, became involved in a quarrel which led to his sudden retirement from the revolutionary stage. One of the commissioners of customs, named Robinson, had given such unfavourable accounts of Otis as provoked the latter to retaliate in the Boston Gazette. Some expression he made use of induced Robinson publicly to insult Otis in a coffee-house, and an affray en- sued in which the latter was so severely handled by his opponent, that he never entirely recovered from the effects of it. Heavy damages were awarded against the aggressor, but Otis generously forgave him, and refused to receive the money. But his health and spirits were irrecoverably broken by this untoward and degrading accident, and he was obliged to retire into the country. His proud and susceptible nature was undermined, his reason became impaired, and the fiery orator upon whose accents listening senates had so lately hung enraptured, became an object of merriment to thoughtless boys as he stag- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 319 gered through the streets a driveller and a show. An anecdote is told of c ha p. him, which shows how vivid were the flashes of mental light, bursting at in- — tervals through the melancholy gloom that overclouded his shattered powers. On one occasion a youth who had a knowledge of Latin, cruelly sprinkled some water over him from the upper story of a crockery warehouse, ex- claiming, '* Pluit tantum, nescio quantum. Scis ne tu ? It rains so much, I know not how much. Do you know ? " Otis, infuriated, instantly seized a mis- sile, and hurling it through the window to the destruction of every thing that came in its Way, retorted the words, " Fregi tot, nescio quot. Scis ne tu ? I have broken so many, I know not how many. Do you know ? " A burden to himself and others, he had often desired to be suddenly cut off, and this desire was singularly fulfilled, as he was blasted by lightning, while standing in an open doorway during a storm. Thus perished James Otis, the most fervid, impetuous, brilliant, and — nwist we add — unhappy, of all the popular leaders. Of them all he had given perhaps the greatest impulse to the revolutionary feeling, and though a wreck in body and mind, he still survived long enough to witness its triumphant establishment upon his native soil. An incident now occurred which added to the growing exasperation of the ministerial feelings. The vigorous enforcement of the revenue laws had been particularly required of the servants of the crown, and no one had rendered himself more obnoxious by his zeal in this respect than Lieutenant Doddington of the Gaspe" schooner, then stationed at Providence. Having in vain re- quired the master of one of the packets to lower his colours, the commander of the Gaspe" fired at her to bring her to, but the vessel held on her course, and artfully stood in close with the land, so that the schooner in following her shortly afterwards stuck fast upon a shoal, and the packet proceeded tri- umphantly to Providence. Here a daring plan was concerted for the de- struction of the obnoxious revenue schooner. About two in the morning, as the Gasp£ lay aground, she was boarded by several boats full of volunteers. The lieutenant, after being wounded in defending his vessel, was put on shore with his crew and their personal effects, and the vessel with all her stores was set on fire and destroyed. When the governor heard of the out- rage, he offered a reward of five hundred pounds and a free pardon to any who would confess and give information; but so universal was the conspiracy, that no evidence whatever could be procured against the incendiaries. While the English ministry were getting more irritated with the colonists, the popular agitation went on increasing, and a crisis was evidently near at hand. The nature of the political institutions of Massachusetts favoured the organization of a general resistance. The people, accustomed to discuss their affairs in town meetings, warmly took up any subject that affected their interests. Boston was, so to speak, the core of the confederation. In this city, certain of the leading patriots formed a central committee, called by an English writer, "the source of the rebellion, the foulest, most venomous serpent that ever issued from the egg of sedition." This committee decided upon the measures to be pursued, and took means, openly or secretly, to carry A.D.I 773 320 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, them into execution. By degrees similar committees, mainly established by Samuel Adams, Dr. James Warren, and John Hancock, extended themselves all over the province, until political agitation became universal, and the im- pulse given at head quarters was communicated with electric rapidity to every town and village. The movement comprehended men of all parties, and of every shade of patriotism, from some of the wealthiest and most influential citizens, down to the intriguing demagogue, who, having nothing to lose, seeks to advance his interest amidst the public troubles. Some of the more ardent and daring, who might even then have aspired to independence, were perhaps desirous of precipitating an open struggle, but this was, as yet, far from being the feeling of the majority. The best and purest minds were per- plexed as to the part they should act in the uncertain and alarming drama which opened before them. Their feelings may be well judged of by referring to the journal of John Adams, who, as before said, notwithstanding the odium incurred in the matter of Preston's trial, had been chosen one of the Boston representatives, and negatived by Governor Hutchinson for the active part he had taken in the opposition. " To-morrow," he says, " is our general elec- tion. The plots, plans, schemes, and machinations of this evening and night, will be very numerous. By the number of ministerial, governmental peo- ple returned, and by the secrecy of the friends of liberty, relating to the grand discovery of the complete evidence of the whole mystery of iniquity, (alluding to Hutchinson's letters,) I much fear the elections will go wrong. For myself, I own I tremble at the thought of an election. What will be expected of me ? What will be required of me? What duties and obligations will result to me from an election ? What duties to my God, my king, my country, my family, my friends, myself ? What perplexities, and intricacies, and difficulties shall I be exposed to ? What snares and temptations will be thrown in my way ? What self-denials and mortifications shall I be obliged to bear ? If I should be called in the course of providence to take a part in public life, I shall act a fearless, intrepid, undaunted part at all hazards, though it shall be my endeavour likewise to act a prudent, cautious, and considerate part. But if I should be excused by a non-election, or by the exertion of pre- rogative, from engaging in public business, I shall enjoy a sweet tranquillity in the pursuit of my private business, in the education of my children, and in a constant attention to the preservation of my health. The last is the most selfish and pleasant system ; the first the more generous, although arduous and disagreeable." Such is the language of pure, disinterested patriotism, and we cannot doubt that it would have been echoed by many eminent men at this anxious and perplexing period. But the march of events often outruns the hesitation of individuals, and hur- ries them along towards results from which they might originally have shrunk. What between smuggling and the non-importation agreements, the market of the East India Company in America had so dwindled down that a stock of seventeen millions of pounds of tea was accumulated in their cellars. In consequence of their urgent petitions to the government, the export duty was HISTORY OF AMERICA. withdrawn, so that, notwithstanding the obnoxious duty of three-pence a chap. pound on its importation into America, which the ministers determined to VT - maintain upon the ground of principle, the article itself would of course come A " Disperse, you rebels! throw down your arms and disperse." Not being attended ^-~ to, he discharged his pistol and ordered his men to fire. The order was instantly obeyed ; several of the militia fell dead ; the others retired, returning the fire of the soldiers; but as the latter advanced, scattered and fled on all sides. This was the first resistance offered by the Americans, and it showed what stuff they were made of, and by what spirit they were animated. " One of the victims, Jonas Parker, had been heard to say, that, be the consequences what they might, and let others do as they please, he would never run from the enemy. He was as good as his word— better. Having loaded his musket, he placed his hat containing his ammunition on the ground before his feet, in readiness for a second charge. At the second fire he was wounded, and sunk on his knees, and in this condition discharged his gun. While loading it again upon his knees, and striving in the agonies of death to redeem his pledge, he was transfixed by a bayonet, and thus died on the spot where he stood and fell." After assembling on the green, and firing off three volleys in triumph over the militia, the troops now marched on to Concord. The minute-men of that place had assembled on a hill in front of the meeting-house, but seeing the strong force by which they were threatened, they crossed the bridge to another rising ground in the rear of the town. The bridge was immediately seized by the troops and a strong guard posted there, while another was detached into the town to destroy the stores, which they successfully accomplished, dis- abling two cannon, throwing a quantity of ball into the rivers and wells, and breaking in pieces about sixty barrels of flour. While they were thus en- . gaged the militia on the hill were receiving reinforcements, and Major But- trick of Concord came forward to lead them against the enemy, carefully warn- ing them however not to fire unless first fired upon. They descended the hill and advanced towards the bridge, the planks of which were being removed by the English soldiers. As Buttrick approached, he remonstrated with a loud tone against this proceeding, and ordered his men to quicken their step. Seeing that the Americans were determined to pass the bridge, the soldiers fired a volley into their midst, and one or two of them fell dead on the spot. On this Buttrick loudly exclaimed to his men — " Fire, fellow soldiers, for God's sake, fire ! " The order flew with electric speed along the American line, and was re-echoed by hundreds of voices. The citizens fired, and hurry- ing over the bridge, pursued the English, who immediately commenced a precipitate retreat. By this time the country was fully aroused, the militia- men seemed, to use the words of an English officer, " to drop from the clouds." The farmer left his plough, and ran for his gun, and from every quarter the minute-men swarmed down to the road-side, lining the hedges, posting themselves in nooks and corners, harassing at once the front, flank, and rear of their retreating enemies, and picking them off at advantage, as they hurriedly retreated towards Lexington. Suffering most severely from this galling fire, exhausted by the heat and dust, their leader wounded, and disorder rapidly increasing, it is probable the whole detachment would have been cut off, had not Gage most opportunely happened to despatch to HISTORY OF AMERICA. 345 their support a column of nine hundred men under the command of Lord chap. Percy, with a couple of pieces of artillery, who, as the fugitives reached Lex ■ — ington, formed his troops into a hollow square to receive them. Exhausted by their long march, the tired soldiers lay down for rest on the ground, their tongues hanging out of their mouths, like those of hounds after a chase. The artillery kept the assailants at bay, and as soon as the men had recovered a little from their fatigue, the retreat recommenced in perfect order, Percy throwing out flanking parties to cover his main body. But it was like run- ning the gauntlet the whole way ; the numbers of the minute-men continually increased, and acquainted as they were with the best vantage ground, and all of them excellent marksmen, they kept up an irregular but deadly fire upon the retreating soldiers, three hundred of whom were killed or wounded. The main body, almost exhausted with fatigue, at length, after a march of five and thirty miles, reached Bunker Hill at sun-set, and encamped for the night, under cover of the ships of war in the river. The next day they crossed over into the city. Such was the issue of this momentous skirmish, the melancholy forerunner of a long and sanguinary war. The royal troops were desperately chagrined at being compelled to retreat before a crowd of undisciplined and, as they had hitherto regarded them, contemptible Yankees. On the other hand, the Ameri- cans had discovered that the boasted English troops were not invincible, and their courage and determination were elevated to an enthusiastic pitch. Both parties however strove to cast on each other the blame of having first pro- ceeded to extremities. General Gage had given express orders that the troops should fire only in case they were attacked. The English affirmed that the Lexington militia fired first, which, though their withstanding the progress of the king's troops could not be construed into any thing short of an overt act of hostility, was certainly not the case. Both parties reproached each other moreover with horrible instances of cruelty. The Massachusetts convention, being then in session, despatched a special packet to England to prove that the troops had fired first. It was accompanied with an address to the people of Great Britain, in which, appealing to Heaven for the justice of their cause, they declare their intention to die or to be free ; and while still professing loyalty to the king, express their determination " not tamely to submit to the persecution and tyranny of his evil ministry." This address was committed to Franklin, upon whom, as their agent, its publication devolved ; but deeply wounded at the treatment he had personally received, and finding that all hopes of reconciliation were likely to prove abortive, he had already set sail on his return to Philadelphia. The news of the affair of Lexington — the first blood shed in the defence of liberty upon the American soil, produced an extraordinary excitement, vary- ing of course according to the feelings and convictions of its recipients. By the more ardent patriots, secretly anxious to throw off the allegiance of England, it was welcomed as the signal of a deadly and incurable quarrel ; and by those who yet hoped for a reconciliation with the parent country, it was, 2 T 346 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, for the same reason, regarded with unfeigned sorrow and alarm. The ge- neral effect was incontestably to inflame the ardent and to confirm the timid, to unite all classes in a feeling of intense bitterness towards the ministers who, by their criminal obstinacy, had stained the once happy plains of America with the blood of her own citizens, and to give a great impulse towards the growing desire for independence. These feelings cannot be better expressed than in a letter written not long afterwards by Franklin, who, after his ineffectual at- tempts at conciliation, had recently returned from England, and been chosen a member of the Pennsylvania assembly, to his old friend Strahan, the kind's printer, with whom, during his sojourn in London, he had been upon terms of intimate and playful familiarity. To his old companion, a steady supporter of Lord North's administration, he now writes in the follow- ing indignant strain : " You are a member of parliament, and one of that majority which has doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to burn our towns and murder our people. Look upon your hands ! They are stained with the blood of your relations ! You and I were long friends — you are now my enemy, and I am yours." If one of the most pacific of human beings, and who detested war alike upon moral and economical principles, could be thus exasperated by that oppression which makes the wise man mad, we may easily conceive what must have been the feelings of the more ardent and excitable of the people. Scarcely had the news of the battle arrived, when a great public meeting was held at Philadelphia, at which, in spite of the more pacific of the citi- zens, a volunteer military association was formed, towards the expenses of which the assembly, which met shortly after, voted a considerable sum. The solemn sanction of religion was also given by the clergy to the cause of American liberty. It has been already observed, that the Congregationalist ministers of New England were extremely jealous of the introduction of Epis- copalianism, and a project of this kind, with which they had been recently threatened, had given equal alarm and offence. Justly regarding the cause of civil and religious liberty as identical, they were easily induced to throw the weight of their influence into the popular scale. The Presbyterians r.:'cturally sympathized with the Congregationalists in a traditionary dislike to Jie predominance of English influence, with which Episcopalianism was natur- ally identified. Accordingly, after the affair of Lexington, which was regarded as an act of overt hostility, the synods of New York and Philadelphia published a pastoral letter, which was read in all the churches, and produced an immense influence on the minds of the people. Hitherto, they declared, not willing to be instruments of discord between the colonists and their brethren, they had abstained from pronouncing an opinion ; but now, in the altered state of affairs, they declared that they could no longer hesitate in counselling their flocks to take up arms, under the full belief that the cause of oppressed America was the cause of Heaven. Some attempt at conciliation was made by John Penn, one of the descendants of the great founder of Pennsylvania, and the last of the royal governors of that state. In obedience to his instructions he laid before HISTORY OF AMERICA. 347 the assen .bly the proposition of Lord North, observing " that, as being the first chap. assembly to whom it had been communicated, they would deservedly be re- : — vered by the latest posterity, if by any means they could be instrumental in A " D * 1775 ' restoring public tranquillity, and rescuing both countries from the horrors of a civil war«" They refused however to adopt it, even should it prove to be unexceptionable, without the advice and consent of their sister colonies, who, united by just motives and mutual faith, were guided by general councils. The Massachusetts congress now proceeded to improve the recent success, and give a profitable and permanent direction to the martial spirit of the people, by the formation of twenty-seven regiments, consisting of thirteen thou- sand men, and by calling upon the neighbouring States to make up the num- ber to thirty thousand ; an appeal that was responded to with spirit. Volunteer companies were formed, some of .hem under the command of men who after- wards became famous in the progress of the war. Conspicuous among these was the fiery and impetuous Benedict Arnold, who combined the trades of a druggist and bookseller — " from London," who was at that time captain of the governor of Connecticut's guards, at Newhaven. No sooner did the news of the skirmish at Lexington reach that place, than Arnold, leaving to others the custody of his books and gallipots, summoned his corps and proposed to start instantly for a more congenial scene of action. About forty of his company con- sented to go. Arnold then requested the town authorities to furnish him with ammunition, sending in word that if the keys were not delivered to him in five minutes, he would break in and help himself. The keys were delivered, the ammunition secured, and Arnold marched off with his corps to Cambridge, where its discipline was so superior that it was selected to deliver to General Gage the body of a British officer who had died of wounds received at Lex- ington. Another kindred spirit was Colonel Ethan Allen, who had emigrated from Connecticut to Vermont, and had taken a prominent part in the disputes that arose between the settlers and the State of New York. He was a tall, sinewy man, a perfect dare-devil in courage, of fervid patriotism, with a wild, eccentric enthusiasm peculiar to himself. A singular story is related of him by Rivington, the king's printer, who was one of the politest men in Boston, and highly fashionable in his dress, — wore curled and powdered hair, claret-coloured coat, scarlet waistcoat trimmed with gold lace, buck-skin breeches, and top-boots ; and he kept the best society. As a royalist, he greatly despised the rebels, and had made some remarks in his journal which so irritated Ethan Allen that he threatened " ro chastise him for it on the first opportunity." " I was sitting," says Rivington, " after a good dinner alone, with my bottle of Madeira before me, when I heard an unusual noise in the street, and a huzza from the boys. I was in the second story, and, stepping to the window, saw a tall figure in tarnished regimentals, with a large cocked hat and an enor- mous long sword, followed by a crowd of boys, who occasionally cheered him with huzzas, of which he seemed insensible. He came up to my door and stopped. I could see no more. My heart told me it was Ethan Allen. I shut down my window, and retired behind my table and bottle. I was cer- 2 y 2 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, tain the hour of reckoning had come. There was no retreat. Mr. Staples, my - — clerk, came in paler than ever, and clasping his hands, said, l Master, he is a.d. 1775. come j j ( j k now fa* < He entered the store and asked ' if James Rivington lived there.' I answered, ' Yes, sir.' ( Is he at home ? ' ' I will go and see, sir,' I said. And now, master, what is to be done ? There he is in the store, and the boys peeping at him from the street.' I had made up my mind. I looked at the bottle of Madeira — possibly took a glass. ' Show him up,' said I ; f and if such Madeira cannot mollify him, he must be harder than adamant.' There was a fearful moment of suspense. I heard him on the stairs, his long sword clanking at every step. In he stalked. ' Is your name James Rivington ? ' { It is, sir, and no man could be more happy than I am to see Colonel Ethan Allen.' ' Sir, I have come—' f Not another word, my dear colonel, until you have taken a seat and a glass of old Madeira.' ' But, sir, I don't think it proper — ' ' Not another word, colonel. Taste this wine ; I have had it in glass for ten years. Old wine, you know, unless it is originally sound, never improves by age.' He took the glass, swallowed the wine, smacked his lips, and shook his head approvingly. f Sir, I come — ' ' Not another word until you have taken another glass, and then, my dear colonel, we will talk of old affairs, and I have some droll events to detail.' In short, we finished two bottles of Ma- deira, and parted as good friends as if we never had cause to be otherwise." Such was this gunpowder captain, whom nothing but wine could mollify. Putnam too, who, as we have already seen, had served with great distinction during the Canadian wars, and now a veteran of sixty-five, hastened from his plough to join the insurgents. Another body of volunteers from Rhode Island also repaired to the camp under the command of Nathaniel Greene, a young Quaker, but of too warlike a turn of mind to prove an acceptable member of that community. He was appointed a brigadier-general, and afterwards became one of the most celebrated of the continental chiefs. By the junction of these different forces Boston was soon invested by an army of twenty thousand men, who, irregular as they were in discipline, had given abundant proof they were no longer to be regarded as contemptible opponents. Arnold and Allen speedily found an opportunity of displaying their enthu- siastic daring. In full -.nticipation of a struggle, Samuel Adams and Dr. Warren had sent an agent into Canada to sound the temper of the people. He reported that they were but little disposed to join the Americans, and counselled the surprise of Ticonderoga upon the earliest outbreak of hostility. The enterprise was secretly concocted, and Allen, with a body of " Green Mountain boys " from Vermont, was joined near Lake Champlain by a number of other volunteers. Arnold, burning to distinguish himself, and having, it is supposed, got wind of the intended expedition, contrived to obtain the com- mand of it from the provincial congress, and hurried down to the scene of action, but on producing his commission found, to his great chagrin, that the fellow mountaineers of Allen refused to follow any other leader than himself. Re- solved to share in the glory of the enterprise if he could not assume its com- mand, Arnold then attached himself to the expedition in the capacity of a HISTORY OF AMERICA. 349 simple volunteer. The whole body now marched down to the shores of the chap. lake opposite to Ticonderoga, where, as no attack was dreamed of, the vigil '— ance of the garrison was very greatly relaxed ; and a guide being found who was acquainted with every secret way about the fortress, Allen and Arnold crossed over during the night with about eighty of their men, the rest being unable to follow them for want of a supply of boats. Landed under the walls of the fort, they found their position extremely critical ; the dawn was begin- ning to break, and unless they could succeed in instantly surprising the gar- rison, they ran themselves the most imminent risk of capture. Ethan Allen did not hesitate a moment, but, drawing up his men, briefly explained to them the position of affairs, and then, with Arnold by his side, hurried up immediately to the sally-port. The sentinel snapped his fusee at them, and rushing into the fort, the Americans followed close at his heels, and entering the open parade, awoke the sleeping garrison with a tremendous shout of triumph. The English soldiers started from their beds, hurried on their arms and rushed below, and were immediately taken prisoners and obliged to capitulate. Meanwhile Allen, attended by his guide, hurried up to the chamber of the commandant, Captain La Place, who was in bed with his wife, and knocking at his door with the hilt of his huge sword, ordered him in a stentorian voice to make his instant appearance, or the entire garrison should immediately be put to death. To the commandant, just awakened, all this seemed like a dream, and as he opened the door, but half dressed, with his terrified wife peeping over his shoulder, he authoritatively demanded the meaning of this incomprehensible summons. " I order you instantly to surrender," roared Allen. " But by what authority do you demand it ? " inquired the bewildered officer. " In the name of the Great Jehovah and the continental congress, by G — d," was the thundering reply ; to which Allen gave additional em- phasis by flourishing his long sword to and fro like a madman above La Place's head. The latter knew not what to make of it, but had no alter- native but to give up the place to his combustible captor ; and the fort and stores were accordingly surrendered. Another body followed up this success by surprising Crown Point. The continental congress, which had then but just opened its second session, and in whose name Allen had boldly captured the" fortress, had as little expected as they had authorized this achievement: they gave orders that the cannon and stores should be removed to the south end of Lake George, and an exact inventory of them taken, " in order that they may be safely returned when the restoration of harmony between Great Britain and the colonies, so ardently desired by the latter, shall render it prudent and consistent with the overpowering law of self-preservation." It is unnecessary to say that that period was never destined to arrive. The state of American affairs about the opening of parliament was justly regarded with the greatest anxiety, both by the government, the opposition, and the people at large. " It had been hoped," says Botta, " and the ministers themselves had confidently predicted, that the recent enactments, and espe- cially the troops that were sent over to the colonies, would promptly extin- A. D. 1775. 350 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C vn P * g u i s k sedition, and reduce the factious to obedience. It was not doubted but that the partisans of the royal cause, encouraged by the presence of the soldiers, would display great energy, and join themselves to the royal troops, in order to establish the authority of government. There was a profound conviction that the southern provinces, when they beheld the storm about to burst upon them, would not embrace the quarrel of those of the north, and it seemed beyond a doubt that the dissensions which divided one from the other would bring about the submission of the whole. But these hopes had been completely frustrated. The popular movements, which at first had been but partial, now extended over the whole continent. The governors, far from having re-established the royal authority, had been compelled to fly and take refuge on board the ships. The Americans, who had been represented as trembling and ready to yield, displayed every day increasing strength and audacity." There is no doubt that the obstinacy of ministers had at first been greatly fortified by the belief that the number of the discontented was comparatively small, that their leaders were turbulent and unimportant, and that the mass of the respectable inhabitants only awaited the display of energy on the part of the government in order to throw their influence into the scale and reduce the factious to obedience. Nor was this delusion, which continued for a long time afterwards to influence the proceedings of government, without some ap- pearance of foundation. The royal governors and officials had always per- sisted in holding this language, and besides, the partisans of the English w&re really very numerous, especially among the more wealthy and influential classes. This was known to be more particularly the case in New York and the southern provinces. Franklin, it is true, had endeavoured, but without effect, to open the eyes of ministers to the truth, but in the disunited state of the colonies, and in the preponderance of loyalty among the inhabitants, it was supposed that a very small display of force would suffice to reduce the dis- affected. The British officers, who entertained strong prejudices against the colonists, and looked down upon them with a contemptuous feeling of supe- riority, boasted, and doubtless believed, that at the head of a few regiments they could march triumphantly from one end of America to the other. Ac- cordingly, far from sending over a really imposing force, government had contented themselves with despatching such a handful of men as, without in- timidating the colonists, had only stimulated them to increased opposition; and such is the inconsistency of party. spirit, that this very reluctance to put forth a crushing display of power was now accused by those very members of the opposition who had been the first to protest against the employment of force. A general election had taken place, but the result was decidedly in favour of the Tory party, and Lord North and his friends might count upon an overwhelming majority. It was by this time fully understood that the king was firmly resolved to reduce the rebellious colonists to obedience, and that no measures of concession were to be expected from his advisers. We have HISTORY OF AMERICA. 351 already remarked, that a conviction to this effect had dawned slowly on the c ha p. mind of Franklin, and that he had been at first disposed to regard the king as A p ^ - under the influence of his ministers, but was now fully convinced that the reverse of this was really the case. The pride of the monarch had engaged his advisers not to give way, but go on until America was reduced to obe- dience. In a conversation with Mr. Quincy, who had recently come over from Boston, Lord North, after reminding him of the power of England, declared his determination to exert it to the utmost in order to effect the sub- mission of the colonies. " We must try," said he, " what we can do to sup- port the authority we claim over America. If we are defective in power, we must sit down contented, and make the best terms we can, and nobody will blame us after we have done our utmost, but till we have tried what we can do we can never be justified in receding." Such was the feeling and policy of the ministry at the opening of the session in October, 1774. In his message to parliament, the king declared, " that a most daring spirit of resistance and disobedience to the laws still un- happily prevailed in the province of Massachusetts, and had broken forth in fresh violences of a very criminal nature ; and that these proceedings had been countenanced and encouraged in other of his colonies, and unwarrantable attempts had been made to obstruct the commerce of his kingdoms by unlaw- ful combinations ; and that he had taken such measures and given such orders as he judged most proper and effectual for carrying into execution the laws which were passed in the last session of the late parliament for the protection and security of the commerce of his subjects, and for restoring and preserving peace, order, and good government in the province of Massachusetts. The usual address in reply to the royal speech, though carried by a large majority, was not voted without a very spirited debate. Among the opponents of ministerial infatuation on this occasion was the celebrated John Wilkes, the leader of the rising popular party, and one of the earliest advocates of that so-called radical reform, which is now being gradually carried out in Eng- land. Horribly licentious in private life, he was no less the idol of the com- mon people. His principles naturally inclined him to espouse the cause of the Americans, and in the present instance he delivered himself with unusual and prophetic solemnity. . After defending the colonists from the charges brought against them, and denouncing the measures intended to reduce them to obedience, he continued thus : " Whether their present state is that of re- bellion, or of a fit and just resistance to the unlawful acts of power, to our attempts to rob them of their property and liberties, as they imagine, I shall not declare. But I well know what will follow ; nor, however strange and harsh it may appear to some, shall I hesitate to announce it, that I may not be accused hereafter of having failed in my duty to my country, on so grave an occasion, and at the .approach of such direful calamities. Know, then, a successful resistance is a revolution, not a rebellion. Rebellion, indeed, ap- pears on the back of a flying enemy, but revolution flames on the breastplate of the victorious warrior. Who can tell, whether in consequence of this day's 352 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ° vn. P ' violent and mad address to his Majesty, the scabbard may not be thrown away A, d. ma. ty t * iem as we ^ as ky ns > anc * whether in a few years the independent Ameri- cans may not celebrate the glorious era of the Revolution of 1775, as we do that of 1668. You would declare the Americans rebels, and to your injustice and oppression you add the most opprobrious language, and the most insulting scoffs. If you persist in your resolution, all hope of a reconciliation is ex- tinct. The Americans will triumph, the whole continent of North America will be dismembered from Great Britain, and the wide arch of the raised em- pire fall. But I hope the just vengeance of the people will overtake the authors of these pernicious counsels, and the loss of the first province of the empire be speedily followed by the loss of the heads of those ministers who first invented them." Shortly afterwards, accounts of the proceedings of congress were received in England, which, by showing the imminence of the peril, gave increased ve- hemence to the feelings and language of the Whig opposition. On the 20th of January, the parliament having re-assembled, the venerable Lord Chatham, whose increasing infirmities had for a long time kept him absent from the House, moved that orders might be despatched to General Gage for the removal of the troops from Boston, a proposition which he supported with his accustomed earnestness. This motion of Lord Chatham's was seconded by Lord Camden, w^io affirmed that " whenever oppression begins resistance becomes lawful and right," and supported by the Marquis of Rockingham and Lord Shelburne, but in spite of his utmost efforts was lost by a very large majority. Determined to follow out their policy of compulsion, the ministry turned a deaf ear not only to the strenuous efforts of the opposition, which they thought proper to attribute to party spirit, but also to the numerous petitions flowing in from London and other principal cities, which they referred for consider- ation to some future committee, well nick-named by the opposition, " a com- mittee of oblivion." The petition from the continental congress to the king shared the same fate. Franklin, Bollan, and Lee, to whose care it had been intrusted, desired to be heard by counsel at the bar of the House, but their request was refused on the ground that the congress was an illegal assembly. Lord Chatham next introduced a new measure of conciliation, respecting which he had consulted Franklin, who, though certain alterations he had sketched had not been introduced, was requested by his Lordship to be pre- sent at the debates upon it. Franklin accordingly repaired to the bar of the House of Lords. The bill provided that no tax should be levied upon the Americans without their consent ; but on the other hand it required a full ac- knowledgment of the supremacy of parliament, and the voting of a free grant to the king of a certain annual revenue, to be at the disposition of parliament. Matters however had now gone too far for such a bill to have been received in America, where the claims of the colonists had increased with their suc- cessful opposition, even had it passed the House, but it was rejected by a large majority on its first reading. Lord Dartmouth, one of the ministers, was at first disposed to have the bill lie upon the table, but Lord Sandwich moved A. D. 1775. HISTORY .F AMERICA. 353 that it be immediately " rejected with the contempt it deserved." " He could c ha p. never believe/' he said, " that it was the production of a British peer, it appear- ed to him rather the work of some American. He fancied (such were his words as he looked round severely upon Franklin) that he had in his eye the person who drew it up, one of the bitterest and most mischievous enemies this country had ever known." To this invective Lord Chatham replied with warmth, that the proposition was entirely his own, but that " were he the first minister of this country, and had the care of settling this momentous business, he should not be ashamed of publicly calling to his assistance a person so per- fectly acquainted with the whole of American affairs as the gentleman alluded to, and so injuriously reflected on, one whom all Europe held in estimation for his knowledge and wisdom, and ranked with our Boyles and Newtons, who was an honour not to the English nation only, but to human nature." The utmost efforts of Lord Chatham failed to obtain even a second reading for his bill. Notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of the opposition, a joint address from the Lords and Commons was presented to the king, in which they declared "that a rebellion actually existed in the province of Massachusetts Bay, besought his Majesty to adopt measures to enforce the authority of the supreme legislature, and solemnly assured him that it was their fixed resolution*, at the hazard of their lives and properties, to stand by him against his re- bellious subjects." This declaration the minister shortly followed up by a bill restraining the commerce of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut to Great Britain and the West Indies, and, what was still more cruel, prohibiting these provinces from fishing on the banks of New- foundland, an occupation vital to their interests. This proposition gave rise to a very animated debate, in the midst of which Lord North surprised both his political friends and adversaries by suddenly bringing forward a measure ap- parently conciliatory, and perhaps intended to be so, differing in substance but little from that of Chatham, but more vague and cautiously worded. It pro- vided that, so long as the colonial assemblies should voluntarily furnish such sums as were required for the government in defence of the colony, to be dis- posable by parliament, and satisfactory to that body and the king, the right of taxation should be waived by government, except in regard to the external regulation of commerce. Pressed by the objections of his party, who com- plained that his measure conceded the very point in dispute, Lord North was forced to declare, in order to pacify them, that it really conceded nothing, and was designed rather to divide parties in America, than expected to be cordially received there. With this explanation it passed the House, and was transmitted to the colonial governors, with orders to press its acceptance warmly upon the different legislatures, but it experienced the usual fate of insincere and tem- porizing expedients. Not long after the passing of the New England Restraining Bill, arrived the unwelcome news that the middle and southern colonists were joining heart and hand with their brothers of the north. The ministers were now in con- 2 z 354 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C vu P ' S ^ stenc y obliged to impose the same restrictions upon all the offending States, D New York, Delaware, and North Carolina alone excepted. Even these States however, in which the ministry had fondly hoped to have found adherents, proved to be no less earnest in their opposition to their measures than the others. Towards the end of the session, Burke, as agent for New York, pre- sented a petition from the general assembly of that province ; but as this was found to be hardly less emphatic in its declarations and claims than those of Massachusetts itself, Lord North, on the ground that it denied the supreme legislative authority of parliament, succeeded in carrying an amendment that it should not be entertained by the House. Previously to this, Burke had brought forward a proposal for entirely re- nouncing all attempts to tax the colonies, and trusting to the local assemblies for a free grant of such sums as should be required. In one of his most deeply studied and statesmanlike speeches he proposed to " establish the equity and justice of a taxation of America by grant, and not by imposition, to mark the legal competency of the colonial assemblies for the support of their government in peace and for the public aids in time of war, to acknowledge that this legal competency has had a dutiful and beneficial exercise, and that experience has shown the benefit of their grants and the futility of parliament- ary taxation as a measure of supply." But the utmost eloquence of Burke failed to render this conciliatory proposition acceptable to the House. We must now turn from the British parliament to the city of Boston, destined to become the scene of those hostilities that could no longer be averted. " This city," says Botta, " is situated in about the centre of the province of Massachusetts, on a tongue of land which, joined to the con- tinent by a very narrow isthmus, expands afterwards enough to contain a city of considerable size. The form of this peninsula is irregular, forming alternately bays and promontories. One of these bays, on the eastern side, serves as the port, receiving equally ships of war and merchant vessels. To- wards the north, the ground is divided into two points or horns, one of which, looking north-east, is called Point Hudson ; the other, facing the north-west, is denominated Point Barton. Opposite these two points appears another peninsula, which, from the name of a large suburb opposite the city, is called Charlestown, and it is joined to the continent by a very narrow isthmus, which bears the same denomination. The sea forms an arm of about half a mile broad between Hudson and Barton Points, and Charlestown (now united by 7l bridge) ; it afterwards extends itself so as to surround the western portion of the peninsula of Boston. Several rivers or creeks discharge themselves into this bay, the principal being, the Muddy, the Charles, the Mistic, and the Medford. Not far from the isthmus of Boston, the continent advances into the sea and forms a long promontory, which extends on the right hand east- ward, which form another sort of peninsula, although joined to the mainland by an isthmus much larger than those of Boston and Charlestown, and bearing the name of the isthmus and point of Dorchester. The peninsulas of Charles- town and Dorchester are so near that of Boston, that batteries erected on them r HISTORY OF AMERICA. 355 carry even into the city ; these peninsulas are moreover covered with hills chap. singularly favourable for the placing of artillery. One of these, named ~ Breed's Hill, rises conspicuously above Charlestown, and commands the city of Boston; another, near the extremity of the isthmus, and consequently farther off from Boston, bears the name of Bunker's Hill (These heights, it should be remarked, entirely commanded the great northern road into the country.) On the peninsula of Dorchester are conspicuous the so-called Dorchester Heights, and finally, another called Nook's Hill, crowning the point nearest to Boston. The bay is dotted over with small islands, the most conspicuous of which are Noddle, Thompson, Governor's, Long Island, and Castle Island. Westward of Boston, on the Charles river, is situated the large village of Cambridge, (the seat of the so-often mentioned university,) and south- ward, at the entry of the isthmus, that of Roxbury." The American army rested its left wing on the river Mistic, and intercepted the isthmus of Charles- town, The centre occupied Cambridge, and the right wing, carried as far as Roxbury, kept the garrison in check upon that side of the isthmus, which being fortified, might facilitate their sorties and expeditions into the open country. To continue the graphic description of this author : <{ In this situation were the two armies respectively placed, but the number and quality of the com- batants, their opinions, military knowledge, arms, ammunition, and provisions, render their condition widely different. The Americans were far superior in number, but this number was subject to continual fluctuations. That rigid discipline, without which there can exist neither order nor stability in an army, was not yet introduced among them; the militia rejoined or quitted their colours at pleasure ; every day one troop replaced another in the camp. They enjoyed an abundance of all sorts of provisions, and especially of the vege- tables, so necessary to a soldier's health. But their arms were far from being adequate ; they possessed in all but sixteen field-pieces, of which six, at the utmost, were in a condition to do service. Their bronze cannon, of which they had but a very short number, were of the very weakest calibre. They had some stronger ones of iron, with three or four mortars and hoAvitzers, and a small stock of balls and bombs. Powder was almost totally wanting. There was an abundance of muskets, but they were of all sorts of calibres, every militia-man bringing with him his own. For the rest, they knew how to use them with surprising skill, which rendered them singularly fit for sharp- shooters and skirmishers ; but not so suited, on the other hand, for fighting in order of battle. They had no uniform, and no magazines of provisions, they lived day by day without taking thought for the morrow ; but at the outset, at least, every thing was abundant around them, thanks to the zeal of their sur- rounding countrymen. Cash was hardly known in the army, but paper- money, which at this period was fully equal in value. The officers were deficient in military knowledge, except those who had served in the preceding wars. They were scarcely even recognised by their soldiers ; the organization of the corps was not yet completed, and the changes were perpetual. Orders were badly executed, every one desired to command and to do as he pleased, 2 z 2 356 HISTORY OF AMERICA. CI vn P " an d very few deigned to obey. In short, with the exception of certain regi- ments, who had been formed in certain provinces by experienced leaders, the rest formed rather an assemblage than an army. But all these defects were compensated by a warmth and obstinacy of party spirit, and by the profonnd persuasion of the justice of their cause, entertained by all alike. Moreover the leaders of the army and the ministers of religion neglected no means of exciting every day, a people already disposed to enthusiastic ideas of religion, to redouble their firmness and valour in an enterprise sacred in the eyes of God and all good men. It was thus, with these scanty preparations, but with this un- common ardour, that the Americans commenced a war, which every thing an- nounced as likely to be both long and bloody. It might be foreseen nevertheless, that whatever were the reverses in store for them at the first, an unshaken constancy must insure their eventual triumph; and in acquiring discipline and tactics, the soldiers would not fail to prove equal to any that could be brought against them." " As to the British troops, they were abundantly provided with every thing necessary for a campaign ; their arsenals were crammed with artillery of every calibre, excellent muskets, plenty of powder, and arms of all descriptions. The soldiers were perfectly disciplined, accustomed to fatigue and danger, and for a long period formed to the first, but most difficult of the arts of war — that of obedience. They recalled the exploits by which they had distinguished themselves in the service of their country, in contending with the most war- like nations in the world. An especial motive added still more to the martial ardour of this army, the consciousness of fighting under the banners of their king, a consideration which generally adds fresh force to the sense of military honour. The English besides regarded the enemies they were about to encounter as rebels, and at that name alone they felt an animosity far beyond ordinary courage. They burned with the desire of revenging themselves for the affront of Lexington, and could not bring themselves to believe that the insurgents were capable of resisting them ; they persisted in regarding them as cowards, who owed their success at Lexington only to their numbers and their advantage of the ground. They were convinced that upon the first serious encounter, the first pitched battle, the colonists would not dare to await them with firm foot. But until the arrival of the reinforcements pro- mised by the English government, prudence required them to act with cir- cumspection towards the Americans, whose forces were more than triple. Meanwhile the blockade was so rigid that, as no supply of provisions could any longer enter the city, fresh meat and vegetables began to get extremely scarce. Although the English had the command by sea, and a great number of light vessels at their disposal, they could draw no supplies whatever from the New England coasts, as the inhabitants bad driven all their cattle into the interior of the country. Nor, as to the other provinces, could they obtain any thing freely, and they dared not employ force, since they were not as yet declared to be rebels. The scarcity at Boston thus became extreme, the gar- rison as well as inhabitants being reduced to salted provisions. Thus the HISTORY OF AMERICA 357 English longed for the arrival of reinforcements from home, so as to be able chap. to hazard some sudden blow, and thus extricate themselves from the critical situation in which they were placed." " The besiegers, aware that the inhabi f ants of Boston had no other resources than the royal magazines, redoubled their vigilance in intercepting all external succours. They trusted that the exhaustion of these magazines would at length force the governor to consent that the inhabitants should evacuate the city, or at least allow all useless mouths, namely, the women and children, to take their departure. The insurgents had several times made this demand with great urgency, but the governor, in spite of his difficulty in feeding the troops, appeared but little disposed to listen to this proposition. He looked upon the inhabitants as so many hostages who should answer for the city and its gar- rison, fearing lest the Americans should try to take the place by a general assault. The latter had indeed given out a report to that effect, though they had not the slightest intention of doing so. Their generals were too experi- enced not to see what a fatal and discouraging impression could not fail to be produced upon the public mind, by a blow of this importance, struck without success in the very outset of the war. Now there was but a very slender chance in favour of this assault, the intrenchments of the isthmus being of prodigious strength; and in the second place, that there was but little hope, so long as the English were masters at sea, and possessed a numerous marine. But at length General Gage, urged by necessity, and also desiring to get their arms out of the hands of the citizens, on which score he was not without con- siderable apprehensions, opened a lengthened conference with the council of the city. The following conditions were agreed upon. Those citizens who should deposit their arms at Faneuil Hall, or some other public place, were to be allowed to retire with all their property to whatever place they pleased^ and a promise was even made to restore their arms when an opportune period had arrived. Thirty vehicles were to be admitted into the city to carry away the effects belonging to the emigrants, and the Admiralty were to furnish such vessels of transport as should be equally deemed necessary. This convention was at first punctually observed on both sides, the inhabitants deposited their arms, and the general delivered to them their permits. But shortly after- wards, whether he was unwilling to deprive himself entirely of hostages, or whether he feared, as the report ran, that the insurgents intended to set fire to the city as soon as their partisans had left it, he pretended that individuals who had left on the service of persons attached to the royal cause' had been maltreated, and he began to refuse the passports. These refusals led to vio- lent complaints, both among the inhabitants as well as the provincial troops. Nevertheless the governor persisted in his resolution. If he allowed some of the citizens to depart, it was no longer but on the condition that they should leave behind them their furniture and effects." In the mean time the second session of the colonial congress was opened at Philadelphia, in the beginning of the month of May. Since its first meeting affairs had ripened towards a crisis, the British had marched into the interior CHAP. vir. a. d. i/; 358 HISTORY OF AMERICA. of the country, the blood that had been shed had deepened the growing ani- mosity towards the parent country. In Massachusetts, at least, every linger- ing trace of loyalty was gone, and independence was openly talked of. The die was cast, to retrace their steps was impossible, to advance, though peril- ous, the only consistent and honourable course. Accordingly, while in their first session congress had expressly disclaimed political power, and contented themselves with merely recommending certain measures for the general adop- tion, they were now, by the exigency of the occasion, compelled to assume the direct authority of a government, which, although undefined in its limits, was invested with the confidence and support of the entire country. Nevertheless, whatever might have been the views of a certain party, and although the great majority might have felt that matters had gone too far to be amicably made up with England, it was still the policy of congress to disclaim any intention of throwing off their allegiance. The influence of Dickenson and those who yet hoped for a reconciliation with Great Britain was allowed for a while to prevail, and though contrary to the general belief in the futility of .such expedients, fresh addresses to the king and to the people of Great Britain were ordered to be prepared. Upon one point however all were agreed. The British had been the first aggressors, the temper of the ministry was still unyielding, and they evinced by the importation of fresh troops a firm determination to suppress the liberties of America by force. It was therefore resolved that the most vigorous measures should be adopted for the security of the country. The Massachusetts convention had requested congress to assume the direction of the forces before Boston, and they now resolved to raise ten additional companies of riflemen in Pennsylvania, Mary- land, and Virginia, to be paid out of the public funds. Committees were appointed to prepare reports on subjects connected with the defence of the country, and such was the opinion already entertained of Washington's abilities and judgment, that he was chosen to preside over them. His own mind, it is needless to say, was fully convinced of the necessity of an appeal to the sword. In a letter to a friend in England at this period, he thus writes, in reference to the affair of Lexington. " Unhappy it is to reflect, that a brother's sword has been sheathed in a brother's breast, and that the once happy and peaceful plains of America are either to be drenched in blood or inhabited by slaves. Sad alternative ! But can a virtuous man hesitate in his choice ? " The congress next proceeded to the important and delicate business of selecting a commander-in-chief. In so doing they had many claims to consi- der, many difficulties to reconcile, and many jealousies to appease. Their task might well have proved impossible, or their choice ruinous, had not Pro- vidence already prepared that individual who, of all others upon the soil of America, alone possessed the many qualities required by the perils of the time. This, as the reader will already have anticipated, could be no other than "Washington himself. His military talents had been fully displayed in the campaigns with the French and Indians, while his prudence, firmness, saga- city, and self-command had conspicuously attracted the notice of congress VII. A. D. 1775. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 359 during their preceding session. There were other officers, natives of the c ha p country, such as Putnam and Ward, then leaders of this army before Boston, whose claims could not be overlooked ; and it seemed doubtful how far the New Englanders, who had taken the brunt of the struggle, and already so nobly distinguished themselves, might be willing to accept a commander from any but their own States. Happily, after a due consideration of all the bear- ings of the question, the generous New Englanders were themselves the first to suggest the nomination of Washington. During the discussion on military affairs, John Adams, after moving that the levies then before Boston should be adopted by congress as a continental army, declared that it was his inten- tion "to propose for the office of commander-in-chief a gentleman from Virgi- nia, who was at that time a member of their own body." Conscious that this pointed observation had reference to himself, Washington arose and withdrew from the assembly. On the appointed day the nomination was made by Mr. Johnson of Maryland, and on inspecting the ballot, it was found that Wash- ington had been unanimously elected. In rising to express his thanks for the signal honour thus conferred upon him, he begged " to declare with the ut- most sincerity that he did not think himself equal to the command he was honoured with ; " and in reference to a vote previously passed by congress, assured them, " that as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted him to accept this arduous employment at the expense of his domestic ease and happiness, he could accept of no other remuneration than the payment of his expenses, of which he would keep an exact account." His letters to his wife breathe the same spirit of self-distrust and reliance upon a higher power. t( As it has been a kind of destiny," he observes, " that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope my undertaking it is designed to answer some good pur- pose. I shall rely therefore on that Providence, which has heretofore pre- served and been bountiful to me." Four days afterwards Washington formally received his commission as commander-in-chief, and the members of congress solemnly pledged them- selves to adhere to him with their lives and fortunes. In fact, besides the peril of encountering a valiant and experienced adversary, the American generals must have been conscious, to use the insulting expression of the English, that they " fought with halters around their necks," and that if taken prisoners they had nothing less to expect than the confiscation of their pro- perty, and perhaps an ignominious death upon the scaffold. At the same time were appointed several other officers, afterwards celebrated during the war. Putnam and Ward were chosen major-generals, as was also Lee, while Gates was adjutant-general with the rank of brigadier Gates, as before observed, was an Englishman, and had fought with Washington, at the disastrous defeat of Braddock. Lee had been a lieutenant-colonel in the British service, but for some unknown reason had taken bitter offence, resigned his commission, and embraced the cause of the Americans. Notwithstanding the ability and experience of these officers, they were naturally distrusted by congress, but were ultimately appointed through the influence of Washington. Richard A. D. 1775. 360 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. Montgomery, a young Irishman, had served under Wolfe at Louisburg and Quebec, and having married an American wife, sold his commission and re- tired to New York. Philip Schuyler was a gentleman of large property and influence near Albany. Both of these gentlemen, at the recommendation of the New York provincial congress, were appointed generals; as were also Sullivan, of New Hampshire ; Pomeroy, Heath, and Thomas, of Massachusetts ; Wooster and Spencer, of Connecticut ; and Greene, of Rhode Island. As in the disorganized state of the army the immediate presence of the com- mander-in-chief was indispensable, no time was Lost by Washington in repair- ing to the scene of his duties. On the 21st of June he left Philadelphia, accompanied by Lee and Schuyler. He was every where received with great honour. The provincial congress of New York, then in session, deputed a com- mittee to meet him at Newark, and attend him across the river. At New York he received the news of the battle of Bunker's Hill, which induced him to hasten forward, leaving General Schuyler as commander in New York. He pursued his journey attended by volunteer military companies, and on the 2nd of July arrived at Cambridge. Two days afterwards the provincial congress of Massachusetts presented to him a cordial and flattering address, the army received him with genuine warmth, and he entered upon his arduous labours cheered by universal esteem and confidence. In truth, he needed the ut- most support in order to contend with the Herculean difficulties which shortly developed themselves before him. About the end of the previous May Gage had received considerable rein- forcements from England, under Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton, which raised his army to upwards of ten thousand men. He now issued a pro- clamation in the king's name, offering pardon to all persons who should lay down their arms and return to their allegiance, " excepting only Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose offences," it declared, " were of too flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration than that of condign punishment." Mar- tial law was also proclaimed, " for so long as the present unhappy occasion should necessarily require." So far were these measures from intimidating the insurgents, that they tended to draw them still closer together, and to inspire them with still more determined energy. As the forces of Gage had now so greatly increased, it was apprehended that he would no longer submit to be cooped up within the walls of Boston, but break through the enemy's line of blockade and advance into the open country. Private information having been received that he in- tended to assume the offensive, with the view of more completely cutting off the communication with the country, Colonel Prescott, with a company of about a thousand men, including a company of artillery and two field-pieces, was detached at nightfall to take possession of Bunker's Hill, a bold eminence at the northern extremity of the peninsula of Charlestown. By some mistake however the party went past Bunker's Hill, and commenced operations on Breed's Hill, near the southern termination of the peninsula, and overlooking and commanding Boston. There, directed by the engineer Gridley, and under A. D. 1775. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 361 cover of the darkness, they worked away in silence, and so vigorously, that chap, when morning dawned they had thrown up a considerable redoubt on the crest of the hill, and were still toiling on to complete the remainder of the intrenchments. About four in the morning of the 17th June, the works were first perceived from a man-of-war in the harbour, whence a cannonade was immediately opened upon the workmen. This firing immediately gave the alarm to the city, and crowds of people rushed down to the shore to discover what had occasioned it. The British generals, ascending the steeples and eminences of the city, reconnoitred the new works, at which, in spite of the cannonade, both from the ships, the town, and the floating batteries, the provincials, commanded by Gridley and Knox, continued to labour on with undiminished assiduity. To allow them to complete their fortifications, and occupy this position, would have placed the ships in the harbour, and even the city itself, in peril ; it was therefore determined to dislodge them without a moment's loss of time. The position now occupied by the Americans was as follows : The newly constructed redoubt formed its crest and centre, on the right was Charles- town, and on the left an unfinished breastwork, which was continued down to the river Mystic, by a barricade constructed of two lines of rails from the neigh- bouring fences, filled up with new -mown hay. This part of the works was de- fended by General Starke, with two New Hampshire regiments, who reached the ground just before the battle commenced. The Massachusetts and Connec- ticut troops were distributed along the rest of the line. Warren had hurried up to the scene of action only just in time, and took post among the defenders of the redoubt. There was little expectation of attack, and hardly any prepar- ation to repel it. No cannon was mounted, the quantity of ammunition was small, and the provincials were unprovided with bayonets. Nor was there even any regular commander, although the brave " Old Putnam," as he was called, assumed, by common consent, the general direction of affairs. During the whole morning Boston was in a state of the greatest excitement with the stir of military preparation ; and soon after noon, about three thousand British troops embarked under the orders of Generals Howe and Pigot, and landed at Morton's Point, at the foot of the long hill on which the American redoubt was erected, under cover of the guns of the ships of war in the harbour. Having observed the firm attitude of the insurgents, General Howe thought it prudent to send for some additional reinforcements. His plan was to attack the redoubt and Charlestown in front, while another body, penetrating the rail fence, should take the defenders in flank, and thus at once storm their works and cut off their retreat frcm the peninsula. The reinforcements having arrived, Howe prepared for action, and in a short speech assured his soldiers " that he would require no man to venture where he himself was not the first to show the way." About three o'clock, under cover of their artillery, the British troops advanced slowly and steadily up to the redoubt. It was a fearful moment, upon which the fate of America seemed to be suspended. The steeples and roofs in Boston, every corner in tfie 3 A 362 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, city and every spot in the neighbourhood that commanded a view over the ■ — scene of hostilities, was crowded with anxious spectators, men, women, and * children, whose very souls were fixed with painful intensity upon the issue of the coming conflict. It was the decisive trial — would the provincials await with firm foot the point of the dreaded British bayonet, or would they flinch and fly ? Prescott had warned them not to waste a shot, but reserve their fire until they could see the white of their enemies' eyes ; and knowing moreover that they were all of them good marksmen, counselled them to take steady aim at their opponents, and especially to pick off the officers. They obeyed him, upon the whole, with admirable steadiness. As the British line neared the redoubt, a thousand muskets flashed at once with simultaneous aim and unerring precision ; the head of the advancing column was instantly shattered, and that redoubtable infantry, after firing an irregular volley, and receiving others aimed as fatally as was the first, at length fell back and retreated in disorder to the landing. Sensitive to this disgrace, the officers were instantly seen running to and fro, encouraging or threatening their men, and in a short time the line was rallied, and ready to renew the attack. Meanwhile, with a view of expelling the provincials, the village of Charlestown was set on fire by the British, the tall spire of the church soon became a pillar of flame, and vast columns of fire and smoke added to the terrific interest of the spectacle. A second time the British advanced to the charge, and a second time the provincials opened upon them the same close and unerring fire, and drove them back in confusion towards the shore ; so terrible was the slaughter, that most of the officers around General Howe were shot down, and he remained at one time almost alone upon the field of battle. At this critical moment, General Clinton, who had been watching the issue of the conflict from Cop's Hill, hastened over from Boston with fresh rein- forcements, the soldiers were led up a third time to the attack, directed to receive the enemy's fire, and then rush in and carry the redoubt with the bayonet. The ammunition of the defenders was by this time nearly ex- hausted, their fire upon the advancing column sensibly slackened ; the grena- diers, leaping on the redoubt with fixed bayonets, dashed into it on three sides at once. The provincials, without bayonets to oppose to those of the British, defended themselves desperately for a moment with the butt- ends of their muskets. Some pieces of artillery, meanwhile, had been pushed in between the rail fence and the breastwork, and pointed upon them, rendering further resistance impossible. Starke's troops had bravely defended the stockade, conscious that if the enemy had forced their position, and taken in the rear the defenders of the redoubt, their discomfiture must have been inevitable. Seeing that this had now happened, in spite of the entreaties of Putnam, who sought to lead them against the victorious Eng- lish, they 1iow effected their retreat, with a degree of order and steadiness which savoured but little of a rout. Their only means of returning was by the narrow isthmus of Charlestown Neck, swept by an incessant fire from the floating batteries, which however occasioned them but little loss. They fell A.D. 1775. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 363 • back and intrenched themselves at Prospect Hill, only about a mile from chap. the field of battle. The British had gained a nominal triumph, not however, as they had proudly anticipated, with little or no effort on their part ; it had cost them the utmost exertion of their gallantry to achieve it, and they had purchased it at a fearful price, one third of their number lay killed or wounded on the field. Their victory too was utterly inconclusive ; they had stormed the works, their de- fenders had retreated in good order, and with a loss comparatively trifling ; a redoubt and a breastwork was all they had acquired at the cost of so much blood. The result of the engagement at length convinced General Gage, in the words of his letter to the ministry, that " the provincials were not the despicable rabble he had supposed them to be/' that they had in nowise de- generated from the courage of their English forefathers, and that it would cost a far greater exertion of power to reduce them to obedience than the army in the plenitude of its pride, and the ministry in the plenitude of its ignorance, had hitherto supposed to be needful. On the other hand, the con- fidence of the Americans was greatly raised by the success of this en- counter ; a second and more signal proof had been afforded that their enemies were not invincible. The loss of the Americans, sheltered as they were by their defences, was far less than that of the British ; but among the fallen was Joseph "Warren, whose loss was deeply felt, as being one of the most ardent and influential of the popular leaders. He was born at Roxbury near Boston, and having gra- duated at Harvard college, followed the profession of medicine, in which he had attained considerable eminence. He was one of the earliest advocates of popular rights, and in conjunction with Samuel Adams, had laboured suc- cessfully at the establishment of local committees of correspondence. With an integrity above suspicion, and a character peculiarly amiable, he had naturally acquired increasing influence with his fellow patriots; he was chosen the chairman of the committee of safety, and after distinguishing himself in many skirmishes with the enemy, had received the commission of Major-General only four days before the battle of Bunker's Hill. As soon as he heard that the British were meditating an attack, he hurried up to the scene of action, and shared with the Massachusetts soldiers in the peril of defending the intrench- ments. When they were at length forced, and the Americans conrpclled to retreat across Charlestown Neck, he was the last to leave the redoubt, and im- mediately afterward received a mortal wound. The loss of Warren caused a profound impression throughout America. He was the first person of any note that had as yet fallen in the quarrel, and his amiable qualities deep- ened the general concern at his loss. He was regarded as the first martyr to the cause of American liberty, and his death became the favourite theme of popular orators, who failed not to denounce the unnatural tyranny which had brought so valuable a citizen to an untimely end. When Washington reached the head-quarters of the American army at Cambridge, his first business was to ascertain its strength and position. He 3 a 2 364 HISTORY OF AMERICA. • C vn. P * f° un( l that it occupied a complete line of siege round Boston, extending A D xm nearly twelve miles, from Mystic river to Dorchester, of which Cambridge formed the centre. To defend this immense line, there were but about twelve thousand men fit for duty. Intrenchments and redoubts had been thrown up at the most important points, and other works were still in progress. The British army, cut off from supplies, and unable to pene- trate into the open country, numbered about eleven thousand men, General Gage being in the city, and the bulk of his forces intrenched upon Bunker's Hill, or occupying Boston Neck, the only direct access to the city from the interior. A council of war being called, it became a serious question whether this extensive line, which it was feared the enemy might be able to pe- netrate, should be maintained, or whether a stronger position should be oc- cupied at some distance further inland. As such a measure must have proved very discouraging to the troops, it was unanimously resolved that the present position of the army should at all risks be occupied. A formidable task now awaited Washington, that of giving form and sta- bility to the loose and heterogeneous materials of which the army was composed. Prompted by the impulse of patriotism, the citizens had eagerly shouldered their rifles and hurried down to the camp, they had already given abundant proofs of courage, and were excited to the highest pitch by their recent suc- cesses over the enemy. But the same ardent spirit that had stimulated them to action, proved itself a serious obstacle to their military organization. They were impatient of the restraints required by discipline, and alarmed at the prospect of a protracted service. Most of them had been enlisted for a brief period by their respective States, many had left their families and business in the anticipation of a speedy return, and after the first brush with the enemy, were impatient to return to their homes. Few of them foresaw the duration of hostilities, and had they done so, would have been unwilling to engage themselves for so lengthened a period. Besides the disjointed stale of the soldiery, they were most miserably pro- vided with every necessary, except provisions. There was no military chest, no stock of clothing, few tents or stores of any kind, and the supply of ammu- nition was so low that, on instituting an examination, Washington discovered, to his surprise and consternation, that there was not enough for nine cartridges a man to the whole camp. But what was perhaps of most importance, there was as yet no regular or- ganization or discipline. At first the regiments had elected their own leaders, and there had been no general officers invested with a recognised command. And when congress at length proceeded to remedy this deficiency, their ap- pointments were received with great dissatisfaction, and gave rise to such jealousy and dissension, that many threatened to leave the camp altogether, unless the evil was speedily redressed. Such was the state of the army, when Washington, having matured his plans, began the gradual and difficult work of its reconstruction. He formed it HISTORY OF AMERICA. 365 into three grand divisions, the left wing commanded by Lee, the right by c it a p Ward, and the centre, at Cambridge, by Putnam. A system of rules and ■ — regulations had been agreed upon by congress, to which, although many of the existing levies refused their compliance, all fresh recruits were com- pelled to subscribe. Among these new comers were several companies of riflemen from Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia ; one of the latter regi- ments being commanded by Daniel Morgan, who afterwards attained consi- derable distinction. Besides the organization of the army, there devolved on Washington the arduous task of arranging its operations with congress, and stimulating that body to provide for its manifold wants. " My best abilities," he writes, " are at all times devoted to the service of my country. But I feel the weighty importance and variety of my present duties too sensibly not to wish a more frequent communication 'with congress. I fear it may often happen, in the course of eur present operations, that I shall need that assistance and direc- tion from them, which time and distance will not allow me to receive." But congress was at that time almost as unsettled as the army itself. It was com- posed of men differing in opinion as to the dispute with England, some of them yet hoping for a reconciliation, and others doubtless looking forward to independence. They had hurriedly assumed the functions of government, and their authority as yet rested entirely upon public opinion. But recently come together from the different States, they brought with them their sectional interests and jealousies. In one thing they were indeed united, to defend themselves by force of arms against the tyrannical conduct of the English ministry. But while strenuously contending against a foreign despotism, might they not, by building up a powerful standing army of their own, lay them- selves open to an equally formidable peril ? As yet all was new and untried, and Washington himself, though highly respected, had not, by a long career of disinterested patriotism, rooted himself profoundly in the universal confidence of his country. " We have the fullest assurance," say they, " that whenever this important contest shall be decided, by that fondest wish of every American soul, an accommodation with our mother country, you will cheerfully resign the important deposit committed, to your hands, and reassume the character of our worthiest citizen." This distrust, so natural in the position of congress, was not unperceived by Washington, but, conscious of his high and patriotic motives, he laboured to inspire them with increasing confidence, while by his intimate knowledge of military details he necessarily rendered himself the centre of all their operations. Nor was it a less arduous task to stimulate to action the governments of the respective colonies, upon whom in fact devolved the execution of the measures decided on by congress. There was from the first that jealousy on the part of the different States, not only of each other, but also of the authority of the central government, to appease which has ever proved the most difficult problem of American statesmen. Although at the present moment one com- mon impulse animated the whole, yet the furnishing their respective quotas of A. D. 1775. 866 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, men and money, for the common cause, was frequently accompanied by hesi- tation and delay. Nothing but invincible patience and temper, together with consummate prudence and wisdom, could have enabled Washington to meet and overcome such varied and formidable difficulties. Meanwhile, Washington heard that several prisoners who had fallen into the hands of the English at the battle of Bunker's Hill, were treated with great severity by General Gage. Washington and Gage had served together as aides-de-camp to the unfortunate Braddock, and had fought side by side in the bloody battle of the Monongahela. Ever since that time they had main- tained a friendly correspondence, and now, in the chapter of accidents, they stood opposed to each other as the leaders of opposing armies. The British general, who regarded the Americans in the light of " rebels," denied the charge of cruelty, and boasted, on the contrary, of having spared many " whose lives by the law of the land were destined to the cord." He also professed to ignore all rank which was not derived from the king. The reply of Wash- ington was temperate and noble. " You affect, sir," he said, " to despise all rank not derived from the same source as your own. I cannot conceive one more honourable than that which flows from the uncorrupted choice of a brave and free people, the purest source and original fountain of all power." He threatened at first to retaliate the ill usage of American prisoners upon such of the British as fell into his power, but adopting more merciful counsels, eventually released them upon parole, in the hope that " such conduct would compel their grateful acknowledgments that Americans are as merciful as they are brave." Shortly after this incident, General Gage was recalled to Eng- land, ostensibly " in order to give his Majesty exact information of every thing, and suggest such matters as his knowledge and experience of the service en- abled him to furnish." He was succeeded by General Howe, a brother of the same Lord Howe, who had been killed before Ticonderoga, and whose memory was affectionately cherished by the Americans. This change of command however led to no increased activity on the part of the British, who remained quietly within their intrenchments, sending out only small foraging parties, who often came into collision with the American outposts. This inaction appears greatly to have surprised Washington, who was well aware that the enemy were acquainted with his deficiency of ammunition, and it has with much probability been attributed to the desire of Howe not to in- crease the difficulty of a speedy adjustment of the quarrel by any further acts of hostility. We must now glance awhile at the operations of congress. Their first care was to provide the sinews of war by large emissions of bills of credit, the liability to redeem which devolved, in just proportion, upon the respective colonies. As the royal post-office had fallen to the ground, a continental one was now organized, and Franklin, now returned from England, was ap- pointed postmaster-general. An army hospital was also created, and placed under the direction of Doctor Benjamin Church. In the future conduct of the war, there were two subjects of anxiety to con- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 367 gress, what part the Indians might be induced to take in it, and what would c ha p. be the disposition of the Canadians. The deplorable policy which had already a - — led to so many sanguinary scenes, of engaging the Indians in the quarrels of the whites, was now renewed to a certain extent by both parties. Even before the battle of Lexington, the provincial congress of Massachusetts had enlisted in their service a company of minute-men among the Stockbridge Indians. Overtures were made to the Six Nations, but were defeated by the agency of Guy Johnson, son of the celebrated Sir William Johnson, and a stanch loyal- ist, and who had inherited his father's influence over these tribes. The Cagnawagas, or French Mohawks, were however brought over to the cause. These efforts to obtain the alliance of the Indians were strenuously counter- worked by Sir Guy Carleton, then governor of Canada. The question next arose, whether the inhabitants of this province would be disposed to join the insurgents, or rather to assist in their subjugation. Addresses had been voted to them by congress, but the conciliatory policy of the British government had hitherto induced them to observe a prudent neutrality. After the surprise of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, Allen and Arnold had strenuously urged upon congress the desirableness of advancing into Canada, where the British force was very small, and of seizing upon the important strongholds of that country. This measure was at first repugnant to congress, inasmuch as it seemed to be stepping out of the line of resistance they had marked out for themselves, and com- mencing a war of aggression. But as the designs of the British to reduce them to obedience by an increased display of force became apparent, the war assumed another character, and congress readily adopted the project of an attack upon Canada as a measure of self-defence, which was fully sanctioned by Washington himself, who regarded it as " being of the utmost consequence to the interests and liberties of America." The command of the detachment which was to invade Canada, by way of Lake Champlain, was conferred on General Schuyler. Montgomery, who ac- companied him, was ordered to proceed in advance, and attack the strong post of St. John's, at the northern extremity of Lake Champlain, which, as com- manding the chief entry into Canada, had been carefully strengthened by Sir Guy Carleton. This order he proceeded to execute, and was shortly after- wards rejoined by Schuyler, who finding the fort defy his utmost efforts, retired to Isle aux Noix, whence illness compelled him to return to Ticonde- roga, leaving the command of the army in the hands of Montgomery. The siege of St. John's was now continued, but at first with very little success, until the American general, learning that Fort Chambly, at the rapids on the river Sorel, a few miles to the northward, was but slenderly gar- risoned, succeeded in surprising and capturing it. No sooner had Carleton, who was then at Montreal, heard of this disaster, than he immediately crossed the St. Lawrence with a reinforcement for the garrison of St. John's. Colonel Warner, however, placed himself in ambush on the shore, and as the English boats approached, opened upon them so heavy a fire that they were com- pelled to recross the river in great confusion. On learning the discomfiture A. D. 1775. 368 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of these succours, the commandant of St. John's, who had already held out vii. . J for six weeks, surrendered on honourable terms. Montgomery now prepared to push over to the opposite shore. He had already been severely tried with the insubordination and bad discipline of his troops, and many of them now threatened to return home, but by his earnest persuasion were at last induced to assist in the capture of Montreal. Crossing the St. Lawrence he now entered tfye city, which immediately surrendered. Montgomery had detached a strong force to the mouth of the Sorel to intercept the British vessels as they retired down the stream, and if possible effect the capture of Sir Guy Carleton, whose talents and activity were regarded as the soul of the English cause. In this design they were but partially successful. The vessels were taken, together with Prescott and a body of soldiers, who were on board ; but Carleton, embarking in a small boat furnished with muffled oars, suc- ceeded under cover of the night in eluding the watchfulness of the American guard boats ; and effecting his escape by an obscure channel of the river, rapidly descended to assume the command of Quebec, which was at that mo- ment threatened by the second division of the American army. To effect a junction with this body was the next object of Montgomery, but he was doomed to struggle with the same insubordination and discontent that had already so seriously impeded his movements, and threatened his entire failure. Many of his levies insisted on returning home, and abandoned the army. At length however he succeeded in persuading a small force to march on with him to the rencontre of their brethren. Some time before, while besieging St. John's, Montgomery detached Ethan Allen to endeavour to arouse the Canadians to revolt, and induce them to join his standard. With the wild energy of his character, he had entirely succeeded in his object, and was on his way to join the camp before St. John's, when he fell in with Major Brown, at the head of a party of Americans and Canadians, who reported that Montreal was feebly garrisoned, and proposed that they should surprise it in concert. This project, it is needless to say, was utterly unauthorized by the general in command, but then it was extremely tempting to an ardent spirit like that of Allen ; and in those early days of the American army, every man, spurning the restraints of discipline, sought only to do that which was right in his own eyes, and above all, to win fame and promotion by the performance of some gallant exploit. Accordingly it was agreed, that while Allen procured canoes, and traversed the St. Lawrence by night, a little below Montreal, Brown should cross over at the same time, not far above the city, and, at a given signal, they should simultaneously advance and surprise it. Allen performed his part of the agree- ment, but some unknown reason prevented the co-operation of his confederate. On a windy night he embarked in canoes with his men, but for hour after hour he vainly awaited the promised signal, and as the day began to advance his own position became precarious in the extreme. He would have retreated at once, but his boats would hold but a third of his force ; his Canadian re- cruits ran off, and being discovered and attacked by a force from the town, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 369 after a gallant defence of nearly two hours, he was obliged to lay down his c ha p. arms. He was conducted into the city, and brought before General Prescott, ' — who, on learning from his own lips that he was the same man who had surprised Ticonderoga before any declaration of war, and struck perhaps with his eccentric and unmilitary appearance, treated him rather as the leader of a troop of banditti than an officer in honourable service, threatened to have him hanged, loaded him with heavy irons, and thrust him into the hold of the Gasp£e war schooner, where he languished during five weeks. He was after- wards transferred to Quebec, and thence sent over to England to take his trial for treason. . On landing at Falmouth, where his grotesque ap- pearance excited the surprise of the inhabitants, he was at first confined in Pendennis castle, thence transported to Halifax, and finally to New York, then in possession of the British, where, after three years' captivity, he was at length released in exchange for an English officer. Cut short in the very outset of his career, and blamed moreover for the rashness of his attempt on Montreal, he retired to his beloved Vermont, and thenceforth vanished from the scene of the revolutionary conflict. Benedict Arnold, who, as before narrated, had been baffled in his en- deavour to obtain the command at Ticonderoga, after remaining a short time in service on the shores of Lake Champlain, had returned to the camp at Cambridge, discontented with his treatment, and eager for some enterprise that should at once gratify his daring temper, and also open to him a path to distinction. To him Washington now resolved to confide the conduct of a most romantic expedition against Quebec. Arnold, when a trader, had formerly ♦ visited that city, to purchase horses ; he knew it well, and also had acquaint- ances within its walls. The journal of a British officer, who fifteen years before had traversed the intervening wilderness, while it displayed the perils and privations that awaited an army which should venture to penetrate it, served also in some measure as a guide to future operations. Eleven hundred men, among whom were three companies of Virginia and Pennsylvania riflemen, were appointed him for this hazardous service, commanded by several young military aspirants, who afterwards became celebrated in the history of the war ; among them were Morgan, Greene, Dearborne, and Aaron Burr, then a young cadet of twenty. At Newbury Port the expedition embarked for the mouth of the Kennebec river, where two hundred batteaux had already been provided for their fur- ther ascent of the stream. At Fort Western, opposite Augusta, they reached the utmost verge of civilization. From this point to the next human habitation extended a wide and pathless wilderness, intersected with unknown moun- tains, lakes, and rivers. Into this they now boldly plunged. A small recon- noitring party was sent on in advance to the shores of Lake Megantic, the rest followed at intervals of a day apart, Morgan with his riflemen leading the van. Arnold, after witnessing the departure of the whole force, hurried forward and overtook Morgan at the falls of Norridgewock. Here, amidst the solitude of the forests, they came upon the mouldering vestiges of the church of the mur- 3 B A. D. 1775. L 370 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ° vn P * dered missionary Rasles, but the Indians who once dwelt there had fled foT ever from the blood-stained spot. At this spot their difficulties commenced. It was necessary to repair and drag their batteaux, already damaged and leaky, past the waterfall, to launch them anew upon the stream. Seven days were consumed in this toilsome operation, and these labours had to be re- newed with every fresh obstruction of the stream. Worn out or terrified with these hardships, many had deserted or fallen sick, and when Arnold at length reached the great carrying-place from the Kennebec to Dead River, his ef- fective company was already thinned to nine hundred and fifty men. Toilsomely surmounting the fifteen miles that separated them from Dead River, they launched their canoes upon its gentle stream, flowing through an unbroken forest, gorgeous with the vivid hues of an American autumn. They next encamped at the foot of a lofty snow-covered mountain ; but scarcely had they set forward, when the river, suddenly swollen by rain, came down upon them with irresistible fury : the soldiers with much difficulty effected their re- treat, not before several boats were overturned and the provisions in them spoilt, a loss irreparable amidst these boundless and desolate forests. A council of war was held, and orders sent to Enos, who commanded the rear division, to send back the sick and feeble, but that officer retreated with his entire troop. Arnold however pressed forward through snow, which now lay two inches deep, the men toilsomely wading marshes, and working their batteaux with infinite difficulty along streams interrupted by numerous waterfalls, until at length they reached the shores of Lake Megantic, the source of the Chau- driere river, which falls into the river St. Lawrence a little above Quebec. At this spot they found the agent who had been sent on to sound the dis- position of the Canadians, which was reported by him to be friendly. Two Indian runners who had been sent with him betrayed their trust, and convey- ed intelligence of the invasion to the governor of Quebec, who was thus put upon his guard against surprise. The passage of the wilderness had taken the Americans so much longer than was expected, that their provisions were now wholly exhausted. A dog that had followed them furnished a luxurious repast ; they were next reduced to boil their moose-skin moccassins in the vain hopes of extracting nourishment, and the pungent roots of the forest were de- voured with all the eagerness of famine. For forty-eight hours no food had passed their lips. Arnold hurried forward with the least exhausted, to pro- cure relief for his starving troops. Embarking on the lake, he followed the unexplored stream of the Chauclriere, but before long his barks were over- turned among foaming rapids, and his men with difficulty saved. At length they reached Sertigan, the first settlement of the French Canadians, who re- ceived them kindly and furnished them with provisions, which, as soon as his own wants were supplied, were sent back by Arnold to his suffering followers, who were thus enabled to advance, and at length the whole army, the wilder- ness behind them, joyfully assembled at Sertigan. Arnold now distributed to the Canadians the printed manifesto of Wash- ington, inviting them to join their American brethren, but the contented " habi- A.D. 1774. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 371 tans " had no inducement to quit the neutrality which they had hitherto pru- chap dently observed. Eager to strike the blow before Quebec could be placed in a posture for defence, he hastened rapidly down the valley of the Chaudriere, and at length, to the astonishment and alarm of the Canadians, to whom the governor had not thought fit to communicate his knowledge of the expedition, suddenly emerged through showers of falling snow upon the heights of Point Levi, exactly opposite the city. Foaming with impatience, Arnold would have lost not a moment in crossing over, and had he been able to do so, might not improbably have succeeded in storming Quebec ; but the governor had retained all the boats on the opposite shore, and for several days it blew such a tempest of wind and sleet, that all communication with the opposite shore became impossible. Having at length obtained a small supply of barks, Arnold crossed over under cover of the night, eluding two ships of war placed to intercept him, and hurrying up the same ravine which Wolfe had before ascended to victory, stood, as morning dawned, upon the memorable Plains of Abraham ; but only, after such infinite toils, to awake to a conviction of the almost hopelessness of his enterprise. He had calculated on surprising the city, and found it already on its guard. The number of his men was but seven hundred and fifty, without artillery, and with damaged muskets; while the enemy were receiving reinforcements. The lieutenant- governor, knowing the disaffection of the Canadians, declined to march out and attack, him. After some empty demonstrations, Arnold resolved to put a bold front upon the matter by sending a flag with a formal summons to surrender, to the British commandant, who only fired upon the bearer. In this ridiculous piece of bravado, which disgusted his own officers, Arnold, it was said, had a private motive to gratify. The British, aware of his antecedents, had liberally stig- matized him as " the horse-jockey" an affront he was anxious to wipe out by this display of importance. Finding all his efforts fruitless, he retired in infinite vexation to Point aux Trembles, there to await the arrival of Mont- gomery and his troops. He had scarcely reached this spot, when his chagrin was increased at learning that Sir Guy Carleton, who, as before said, had escaped from Montreal, had but just left it for Quebec, and shortly afterwards was heard the booming of the cannon which welcomed his return to the city. On the 1st of December, Montgomery made his appearance from Montreal with a forlorn handful of troops, way-worn and sick ; and he now took the command of the whole American force, which amounted only to nine hundred men. After clothing the half-naked troops of Arnold with garments he had brought with him, the whole force set forward together for Quebec. On their march thither, they were now exposed to all the severities of a Canadian winter; the driving sleet beat fiercely in their faces, the road was cum- bered with huge drifts of snow, and in the open and unsheltered country the cold was almost beyond endurance. Such was the season when the American troops commenced the siege of Quebec, furnished only with a few feeble guns, which were reared on batteries of snow and ice, and produced no effect whatever upon the solid ramparts that confronted them. For three weeks 3 b 2 .. A. D. 1775. 372 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, they continued nevertheless to abide the bitter severity of the weather, until the small-pox broke out in the camp, the term of enlistment of many of the troops had nearly expired, discontent and despondency began to prevail, and Montgomery perceived that nothing but engaging them in some vigorous effort could keep his disorganized ranks much longer from falling to pieces. In venturing upon this enterprise, the Americans had fully calculated on the co-operation of a strong body of the discontented within the city, but on the arrival of Carleton, all hope from that quarter had vanished. Scarcely had that active and able officer regained the city, than he adopted the most vigorous measures of defence, overawed the disaffected, organized the citizens into regiments, and soon raised the feeble garrison to a much larger number than that of the besiegers themselves. It was in vain that Montgomery, artfully exaggerating the number of his troops, summoned him to surrender under pain of an assault ; aware that the Americans could not much longer maintain their position, he stood calmly but firmly upon the defensive. Nothing therefore remained to Montgomery and Arnold, but to try the last desperate chance of an assault. To retire from before the city without striking a blow, even if it should prove unsuccessful, would be alike ruinous to their own reputation, and mournfully discouraging to the American cause. It was arranged therefore, that while one body of the troops were to make a feigned attack upon the upper town from the Plains of Abraham, Mont- gomery and Arnold, at the head of their respective divisions, should endeavour to storm the lower town at two opposite points, and, in the event of success, unite their forces and proceed to invest the upper town and citadel. It was on the last day of the year seventeen hundred and seventy-five, in the thick gloom of an early morning, while the snow was falling fast, and the cutting wind whirling it about in heavy drifts, that Montgomery, at the head of his New York troops, proceeded along the narrow road leading under the foot of the precipices from Wolfe's Cove into the lower town of Quebec. At the entry of the street, crouching beneath the lofty rock of Cape Diamond, was planted a block-house, its guns pointed carefully so as to sweep the ap- proach. This post was manned by a Captain Barnsfare, with a few British sea- men and a body of Canadian militia. As Montgomery approached in the dark- ness, along a roadway encumbered with heaps of ice and snow, he encountered a line of stockades, part of which he sawed through with his own hands, and having at length opened a passage, exclaiming to his troops, " Men of New York, you will not fear to follow where your general leads," he rushed for- ward to storm the block-house. But the vigilant officer had faintly descried the approach of the besiegers, and when they were within a few paces, the fatal match was applied, a hurricane of grape-shot swept the pass, and the gallant Montgomery fell dead upon the spot. With him were struck down Captains Cheesman and M'Pherson, his aides-de-camp, and several among the foremost soldiers. Cheesman had repaired to the attack with a full presenti- ment he should never survive it; he arose for a moment, staggered wildly onwards a few paces, and sunk upon the snow a corpse. The rest of the di- m TY A. D. 1775. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 313 vision, panic struck at witnessing the fall of their leaders, gave up all hopes chap. of success, and retreated in confusion back to the spot whence they had started. Arnold, meanwhile, at the head of the other division, had pushed along through the snow-drifts to the narrow street called " Sault au Matelot" de- fended by a two-gun battery ; and here, while impetuously urging forward his men, he was completely disabled by a musket-wound in the knee, and carried back to the hospital, where he learned that Montgomery had already fallen. Morgan now succeeded to the command, and fought so bravely with his riflemen, that in spite of the storm of grape-shot and musket-balls, he car- ried the first barrier, and hurried on to the assault of the second. Here a severe conflict took place ; the small body of the Americans, in the heart of a hostile city, for three hours bravely kept up the attack ; they stormed the bar- rier, and were preparing to rush into the town, when they were intercepted by the bayonets of a powerful detachment sent out by Carleton to take them in the rear and cut off their retreat, and compelled to surrender themselves as prisoners of war. Thus ended the famous assault of Quebec, which, desperate as it would well seem, might nevertheless have succeeded, had not Montgomery perished at the very outset, and his column been forced to retreat. As soon as the fight had ended, search was made for his body, but the American orderly sergeant, who lingered for another hour, would not acknowledge that his general was dead 9 and it was not until the corpse was recognised by one of the American officers, that Carleton received the assurance that his gallant adversary was in- deed no more. He manifested evident symptoms of sincere and generous emotion, nor did he fail to acquire the general respect of his adversaries by the humanity which he displayed towards his American prisoners. The death of Montgomery caused the most genuine sorrow throughout the colonies. Not only were his military talents most promising, and his bravery distinguished, but his gentleness and humanity rendered him universally be- loved by his own soldiers, who almost worshipped him, and no less by all classes of persons with whom he came in contact. His early fate might well call forth tears of commiseration and gratitude from the Americans. Happily settled in New York, devotedly attached to his family and friends, he left the bosom of domestic tranquillity to sacrifice his life to the cause of his countrymen. His last words to his wife, when he left to assume the command of this ill-fated expedition, were, " You shall have no cause to blush for your Montgomery ! " He nobly redeemed his pledge, and though the expedition was a failure, his memory is justly revered by the grateful posterity of those for whom he gave his life. His body, at first interred with every honour at Quebec, was afterwards removed to New York, where a monument erected to him on the wall of Trinity church, attracts the eye of the traveller as he ad- vances up the principal street of that great commercial emporium, a memento of the sacrifices at which the independence of America was achieved. Nor were the English themselves less generous in appreciating the noble qualities 374 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A D. 1775. C vii P " °^ an enemv * f° r Chatham, Burke, and Barre pronounced a glowing eulogium upon Montgomery in the English parliament. After his disastrous repulse, Arnold, now promoted to the rank of briga- dier-general, retired with his small remaining force to a distance of about three miles from Quebec, and endeavoured to maintain during the rest of the winter a sort of blockade ; while Carleton remained quietly within the walls of the city, awaiting the arrival of troops from England. Congress continued to send reinforcements, until the army was at length swelled to three thousand men, and General Wooster arrived to take the chief command, when Arnold, unwilling to serve under this officer, obtained permission to retire to Montreal. The rest of the campaign was but a constant succession of disasters. General Thomas, who succeeded to Montgomery, arrived early in May, and after calling a council of war, was in the act of removing his forces to a greater distance from the city, when one morning several ships were seen to enter the harbour and throw fresh troops into the town ; and at one o'clock Carleton made a sortie at the head of a thousand men, capturing all the stores and sick, whom he treated, as he had done his other prisoners, with the utmost humanity. General Thomas retired to the Sorel, where he fell a victim to the small-pox, then raging violently in the American camp. Sullivan, who succeeded Thomas, made an ineffectual attack upon a British corps, while another American post, at the Cedars, shortly afterwards surrendered. Burgoyne, pressing forward with a vastly superior body of troops, finally drove the American army before him out of Canada, to use the words of John Adams, " disgraced, defeated, discontented, dispirited, diseased, undisciplined, eaten up with vermin, no clothes, beds, blankets, nor medicines, and no victuals but salt pork and flour." Montreal, with Forts Chambly and St. John's, were recovered by the English ; while the American army retreated down Lake Champlain to Crown Point, where its dis- organized battalions were placed under the command of Major-General Gates. Thus terminated this romantic but unfortunate campaign, in which the young and ardent spirits of the revolution had displayed a bravery and endurance equal to any recorded in history. Its failure was regarded at the time as a great misfortune, while in reality it was perhaps rather an advantage to the Americans, who could ill have afforded to spare the forces necessary to have maintained so extensive a line of operations. The failure of the Canadian expedition led in fact to the capture of Burgoyne. Meanwhile Washington remained at Cambridge, occupied with the reorgan- ization of the American army. The time was drawing near when the troops, by agreement, were free to depart to their homes, and a large proportion were inclined to do so. The first impulse of patriotic fervour had abated, the rigour of military discipline was irksome, and the tedium of inaction intolerable. To this subject Washington had earnestly drawn the attention of congress, and a convention, of which Franklin was a member, was appointed to confer with him upon it, who readily adopted his proposal, which had been already well considered in concert with his officers. The principle of the arrangement was, that the American army ought to be twice as large as that of the enemy in HISTORY OF AMERICA. 375 Boston, and to consist of twenty-six regiments, besides corps of riflemen and ar- c ha p. tillery, amounting in all to about twenty-two thousand men. Of these regiments ' Massachusetts was to furnish sixteen, Connecticut, five, New Hampshire three, ' me. and Rhode Island two. The officers were to be selected by Washington, as far as possible, out of those already in service. This proved to be a task both delicate and difficult. In the ill-compacted state of the army, which threatened to dissolve itself like a rope of sand, it was indispensable to con- ciliate the soldiers, who refused to renew their engagements unless permitted to serve under officers to whom they had become attached, but who neverthe- less might not be the most fitted for their respective po,sts. It was also neces- sary to adjust the number of officers to that of the troops furnished by the re- spective colonies, jealous as they were of each other's precedency and influence. By a mind less deeply imbued with patriotism, or a temper less firm and yet conciliating, than that of Washington, such a task might have been well thrown up in disgust. As it was, he could not fail sometimes to complain of an egre- gious want of public spirit, and of " fertility in all the low arts of obtaining advantage," which the settlement of these intricate and conflicting claims had so unhappily called forth. The task of managing his new recruits is also feelingly alluded to by him. " There is great difficulty," he observes, " to support liberty, to exercise government, and maintain subordination, and at the same time to prevent the operation of licentious and levelling principles, which many very easily imbibe. The pulse of a New England man beats high for liberty, his engagement in the service he thinks purely voluntary, therefore when the time of enlistment is out, he thinks himself not holden without further engagement. This was the case in the last war. I greatly fear its operation amongst the soldiers of the other colonies, as I am sensible this is the spirit and genius of our people." These discouraging anticipations were fully justified. With all his efforts and concessions, enlistments could only be procured for a single year, the Connecticut regiments marched off even before their time was up, and it became necessary to supply the gap by calling in the local militia. This step, though absolutely necessary, occasioned no little uneasiness and jealousy. The same dread of military domination to which we have already alluded, haunted the minds of the patriots, and to allay suspicion it became necessary to arrange that the commander-in-chief should obtain the consent of the executive of each colony before he called out its militia. Every way he was hedged in and crippled. Add to this, that the supply of ammunition still remained very defective, that the artillery de- partment was miserably organized, and it will be evident that nothing but extreme fortitude and perseverance could have enabled Washington to sur- mount such accumulated and discouraging obstacles. To render his situation more distressing, he very well knew that the public, ignorant of his real situation, were growing impatient at the inaction of the army, and anxious to see the enemy driven from Boston by some brilliant and striking exploit. Aware of the general state of feeling, congress had already pointedly suggested, that, " if he thought it practicable to defeat the 376 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c iJA p - enemy and gain possession of the town, it would be advisable to make the D l775 attack upon the first favourable occasion, and before the arrival of reinforce- 1776. ' ments." Yet with the slow progress of the recruiting, and above all, with a deficiency of arms and ammunition so serious that it became necessary to conceal it even from the army itself, such a step would have been little short of madness. Washington has been generally called the American Fabius, and it has been supposed that his temperament and policy rendered him averse to active measures. So far from this, the very reverse was the case, and had he suffered his inclination to outweigh the dictates of prudence, there is little doubt but that he would have seized the earliest opportunity of attacking the enemy. But upon calling a council of war, the most experienced officers opposed themselves to this plan. Conscious that by these delays the enthu- siasm of the country was likely to grow cold, and his own reputation to be imperiled, his feelings broke forth with bitterness in his correspondence. " Could I have foreseen the difficulties," said he, " which have come upon us, could I have known that such backwardness would have been discovered by old soldiers to the service, all the generals upon earth should not have con- vinced me of the propriety of delaying an attack upon Boston until this time." " I know," he says in another letter to a friend, "the unhappy predicament in which I stand, I know that much is expected from me. I know that, with- out men, without arms, without ammunition, without any thing fit for the ac- commodation of a soldier, little is to be done ; and what is mortifying, I know that I cannot stand justified to the world without exposing my own weakness, and injuring the cause by declaring my wants, which I am determined not to do, further than unavoidable necessity brings every man acquainted with them. My situation is so irksome to me at times, that if I did not consult the public good more than my own tranquillity, I should long ere this have put every thing on the cast of a die. So far from my having an army of twenty thousand men well armed, I have been here with less than half that number, including sick, furloughed, and on command, and those neither armed nor clothed as they should be. In short, my situation has been such, that I have been obliged to use every art to conceal it from my own officers." Besides the superintendence of the army, there devolved on Washington, in the present unsettled state of affairs, the necessity of arming vessels to obstruct the supplies received by the enemy, and to procure those required by the continental army. Already had the British cruisers commenced that career of vindictive destruction, which envenomed the feelings of the colonists beyond the power of healing, and sowed the seeds of an animosity which has not wholly died out, even at the present day. The loading of a royal mast ship having been obstructed at Falmouth in Massachusetts, Captain Mowatt was detached by Admiral Graves, with several armed vessels, in order to demand redress. The inhabitants were required to deliver up their arms and ammunition, to send on board a supply of provisions, four carriage guns, and several of the principal inhabitants as hostages that they would not engage in active opposition to the English. These conditions were refused by the HISTORY OF AMERICA. 377 towns-people, who occupied the night in the removal of their families and effects, chap. The next morning the place was bombarded, and the inhabitants, standing " — O Jr ' * o A.D.I 775 upon the neighbouring heights, were doomed to witness the remorseless con- ' 1756. flagration of their homes. Mowatt attempted to land, but the inhabitants stood to their arms, and gallantly repulsed him. Other towns on the coast were compelled to furnish a supply of provisions to escape a similar fate. These hostilities speedily led to the equipping of vessels to harass and inter- cept the English store-ships, and also to prevent the enemy from obtaining supplies along the coast. Massachusetts, as usual, took the initiative, by passing a law to encourage the -fitting out of privateers, and a court for the trial and condemnation of pirates. Several vessels were sent out by Washington, but manned by officers and men from the army, and commissioned, as " a detach- ment of the army," to cruise against the enemy's ships. It was but natural that many of these officers should have proved incompetent, but there were some remarkable exceptions. Captain Manly of Marblehead, in the schooner Lee, captured an ordonnance brig from Woolwich laden with cannon and am- munition, which proved highly serviceable to Washington's army. The as- sembly of Rhode Island, whose coasts were peculiarly exposed, now called the attention of the colonial congress to the subject of a naval force. A Ma- rine Committee was appointed, regulations drawn up, and several frigates ordered to be built, — the nucleus of that American navy, which has since ob- tained so brilliant and world-wide a reputation. Meanwhile the position of the English in Boston became every day more critical. The post of Lord Howe was far from being enviable. He was un- able to adopt offensive measures, and could not hope much longer to maintain himself in the city. During the winter the troops had suffered severely from the .want of fuel and fresh provisions. Large supplies had been sent from England for their relief, but many of the vessels bearing them had been intercepted by the American privateers, and it was found to be almost im- possible to levy contributions on the coasts. Provisions became excessively scarce and dear, and before the winter was over horseflesh was not refused by such as were able to obtain it. The soldiers who remained all the season on the bleak slope of Bunker's Hill, in canvass tents, suffered intensely. It became necessary to strip the churches of their benches and wood-work, and even to pull down uninhabited houses, in order to procure fuel. Several hundred of useless mouths were sent out of the city. The old south church, the scene of so many popular meetings, was emptied and turned into a riding school, and the British officers amused themselves with getting up balls and theatri- cals. Cooped up and starved in this city, which was besides too far north to form a good centre of military operations, General Howe would have eva- cuated it before the winter set in, but for the want of vessels. To expel him by force was now earnestly desired by congress, and they warmly urged Washington to make a vigorous effort for this important object. But Wash- ington needed no urging on their part. By dint of constant exertion, he had by this time brought the army into a better condition ; and so soon as the ice 3 c CHAP. VII. A. D. 1776. 378 HISTORY OF AMERICA. had formed, which occurred about the middle of February, he called a coun- cil of his officers, and proposed to cross over and make an immediate attack upon the city. This project however was considered imprudent by the council, the fortifications having been greatly strengthened by the British. At this disappointment Washington was deeply chagrined. " Though we had been waiting all the year for this favourable event," said he, " the enterprise was thought too dangerous. Perhaps it was; perhaps the irksomeness of my situation led me to undertake more than could be warranted by prudence. I did not think so, and I am sure yet, that the enterprise, if it had been under- taken with resolution, must have succeeded ; without it, any would fail." A less hazardous but no less effectual method of expelling the British was sug- gested by Ward and Gates. Dorchester heights, as we have already observed, situated to the southward of Boston, completely commanded the town and harbour. To raise batteries upon that point must therefore inevitably compel Lord Howe either to evacuate the city, or come forth to attack the intrench- ments ; and in this event Washington determined to profit by the abstraction of the English forces, and to make an attempt upon Boston. This plan was carried out with extraordinary activity, and crowned with complete success. A vast quantity of fascines and gabions had been prepared, and to cover their design, and distract the British, some powerful batteries established at Cop's Hill and 'other places, were opened on the 2nd of March, and began to bombard the city, which was soon in flames in various places, though the fire was extinguished by the activity of the soldiers. This cannonad- ing was kept up the next two nights, and on the evening of the 4th of March, amid the prevailing confusion, while the thunder and smoke of the artillery prevented their movements from being heard or seen, a consider- able detachment under General Ward, furnished with abundant munitions, prepared to set out on this important adventure. It was a mild night for the season, but the ground was frozen impenetrably hard, as the troops passed stealthily across the low peninsula, leading from the mainland to the heights, — exposed, should they be discovered, to a sweeping cannonade from the British men-of-war in the harbour. Not a soul however perceived them ; they rapidly ascended the heights, and set to work with such extraordinary activity, that before ten at night they had already constructed two redoubts sufficient to protect them from musketry. They laboured on strenuously until morning, and as the mists gradually rolled off, the new in- trenchments, constructed in a single night, loomed upon the astonished eyes of the British officers, as they afterwards declared, like the work of an oriental necromancer. It was no dream however, but a substantial reality, and soon as the admiral had reconnoitred the works, he declared that unless the enemy were promptly dislodged from them, it would be impossible for his vessels to remain in the bay without running the most imminent risk of destruction. The city and isthmus were no less exposed to the provincial artillery, and Lord Howe had therefore no alternative but to despatch a body of three thousand troops under Lord Percy to expel the Americans from the heights. A. D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 379 In anticipation of this result, the intrenchments were completed with care, chap. the militia of the neighbourhood assembled, and signals arranged on the chain of heights round the city for the more rapid transmission of orders. Wash- ington exhorted his soldiers to remember Bunker's Hill. In case the enemy- should fail in their attack, he had appointed four thousand chosen men under the command of Sullivan and Greene, who should profit by the tumult and confusion, to cross over and assault the city. Lord Percy and his detachment prepared to cross over to Dorchester heights, where the Americans awaited them with enthusiastic determination, but the sinking of the tide and a violent wind rendered the embarkation impossible. The night was extremely tem- pestuous, and in the morning the agitated sea and heavy rain occasioned another unavoidable, delay ; and the Americans profited by this interval to increase the strength of their intrenchments, until they had become exceed- ingly formidable. The British general perceived that the attempt to storm them would be attended with considerable risk, and that, should his efforts be crowned with success, it would be a dear-bought and almost useless victory, inasmuch as it would be impossible to maintain himself much longer in the city. He therefore called a council of war, at which it was resolved to evacuate Boston, if suffered to retire without further molestation. This done, he summoned the principal inhabitants and informed them of the resolution he had adopted, threatening at the same time that he would destroy the town, if disturbed during the embarkation of his soldiers. With this informal mes- sage he counselled them to repair to Washington, and a tacit understanding took place that the British should be allowed to retire peaceably. This being arranged, the embarkation was commenced at once, and occupied eleven days. The soldiers, five thousand in number, were doubtless glad to escape from what they had long felt to be a dishonourable prison, in which they were suffer- ing severe privations; but it was far otherwise with the unhappy band of loy- alists, a thousand or fifteen hundred in number, members of the council, commissioners, custom-house officers, clergymen, merchants, and mechanics, who were compelled to abandon for ever the homes of their fathers, leaving their property to be confiscated by the victors, and with no other means of subsistence than the scanty rations allowed to the soldiers. During these gloomy days the disorder in the city was frightful. Fathers laden with baggage, mothers bearing their children, ran weeping towards the ships, the sick and the wounded, old men and children, hurrying together to the shore, with the licence of an infuriated soldiery, who plundered the houses, and wantonly destroyed what they could not carry away, presented one of the most fearful episodes of the miseries of civil war. During this scene of misery the Americans had constructed a redoubt on Nook's Hill, which commanded the peninsula at Dorchester. The situation of the army became critical in the extreme, the embarkation was hurriedly brought to a close, and at ten in the morning of the 17th of March, the fleet departed from Boston. Scarcely had the rearguard embarked, when Washington entered the city in triumph, and was received with enthusiasm by the patriotic inhabitants, who, 3 c 2 380 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ° vn P ' cut °^ ^ or sateen months from all communication with their brethren, had A p l7JQ been exposed to the severest privations, and to the insults and outrages of the soldiery. Many of those who had been compelled to leave the city, dependent on charity for their support, now joyfully returned to their homes. Such loyalists as had ventured to remain behind were declared traitors to their country, and their property, with that of their departed brethren, was confis- cated and put up to sale for public benefit. A considerable quantity of can- non and stores had been reluctantly left behind by the British, who had spiked several guns and thrown others into the sea. While in the northern States the dispute had proceeded even to bloodshed, in the southern also matters had been carried to a point of incurable hostility. The prominent part taken by the Virginians, ever since the beginning of the dissensions, has been already traced, and will have sufficiently shown the at- titude of mutual defiance in which the governors and people then stood. Lord Dunmore, who had greatly distinguished himself by his defence of the frontier against the Indians, was a man of great energy and activity of character, but who, far from being endued with that tact and suppleness necessary to allay the popular irritation, by his rash, inconsiderate, and vindictive conduct, hurried it forward to the highest possible pitch. The provincial congress of Virginia having ordered a levy of volunteers, Dunmore secretly removed the public powder by night, and when its restoration was energetically demanded by the people, he refused it upon the ground that they were in a state of virtual rebellion. He incautiously let fall the most violent threats, talked of liberating the negro slaves, and rallying them around the standard of the king. In the midst of the excitement thus produced, arrived the news of the rout of the English troops at Lexington. On learning the removal of the powder, a body of volunteers, headed by Patrick Henry, marched upon Williamsburg, for the purpose of obtaining its recovery by force, and did not retire until they had obtained bills to the amount of the stores carried away. The governor retorted by issuing a proclamation declaring Henry and his com- panions to be rebels, a proceeding which, while it intimidated nobody, on the contrary tended still further to exasperate the great body of the people. Matters remained in this uneasy state until the arrival of Lord North's conciliatory measure, which Dunmore laid before the assembly with the lingering hope that it might allay the general agitation. But here, as in the other colonies, this insidious measure was contemptuously rejected, and the people, their minds being fully made up, determined to take the redress of grievances into their own hands, and they proceeded to attack the arsenal, to obtain the recovery of the public stores. The governor, alarmed for his personal safety, retired on board a ship of war with his family, whence the assembly invited him to return to Williamsburg and resume his functions. This he however refused to do, and this refusal being regarded by the as- sembly as a virtual abdication of his office, from that moment the royal government in Virginia may be said to have come to an end, being immedi- ately succeeded by a popular convention, with an executive committee of safety. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 381 Highly exasperated by this expulsion from his government, and fully chap counting upon the co-operation of a large body of loyalists, Lord Dunmore T-rr— * now commenced an ignoble system of hostilities, resembling rather the preda- tory attacks of a horde of corsairs than the proceedings of civilized warfare. Having collected a considerable naval force, he proclaimed martial law, de- clared that all slaves belonging to the rebels were henceforth free, and invited them to join the royal standard ; thus endeavouring to add the horrors of a war of races to that already subsisting between men of the same blood and language. In consequence of this proclamation, a considerable number of fugitive slaves soon joined his standard, with a large body of loyalists, which it required the utmost efforts of the Virginia convention to keep in check. Having collected a considerable force, the ex-governor then proceeded across the Great Bridge, a long and narrow pass, which formed the only access to the town of Norfolk, then become the most flourishing sea-port of Virginia. Here he endeavoured to establish himself with his adherents, and fortified the bridge end for this purpose. A vigorous and successful assault was made upon it by the Virginia militia, and Dunmore, finding the position untenable, was compelled to retire again on board his ships. The most bitter animosity now raged between the patriot and the loyalist parties. On the evacuation of Norfolk a large body of the latter took refuge on board the fleet, while those who remained behind were exposed to all the rancour of their victorious enemies. Their bitter complaints reached Lord Dunmore, who, being joined by a frigate, threatened, unless they ceased to fire upon his ships, and sent to him a supply of provisions, to lay the town in ashes upon the following morning. Meeting only with a refusal, he pro- ceeded to bombard Norfolk, and thus one of the most flourishing sea-ports in America fell a prey to the horrors of civil war. Meanwhile Dunmore had left no means untried of raising a party for the royal cause. He had commissioned one Conolly as lieutenant-colonel, and sent him into the back provinces of Virginia to raise a regiment from among the settlers, and even, it was said, to induce the Indians to take part in the dispute. Conolly however was intercepted, and sent prisoner to Phila- delphia. Unable as he was to reduce the province to obedience, Dunmore continued during the whole summer to carry on a system of vengeful depredations upon the estates of such of the patriots as, from their situation on the banks of the numerous rivers with which Virginia is intersected, lay helpless and open to attack. He burned the houses of the planters, ravaged their estates, and carried off their slaves, and after inflicting an immense amount of wanton in- jury, pursued from place to place, was at last compelled to retire from the province, accompanied by the general detestation of the people over whom he had once presided with honour, having, as the sole result, eradicated from the breasts of the patriotic party in Virginia the last lingering vestiges of loyalty, and greatly precipitated the growing feeling in favour of inde- pendence. VII A. D. 1776 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. The disasters of the Americans in Canada were counterbalanced by their successes in the southern provinces. After the departure of the English troops from Boston, General Clinton had been despatched from Halifax with a body of troops destined for the coast of Carolina. In the province of North Caro- lina a considerable body of Scotch highlanders had settled, animated by a strong feeling of loyalty, as were also the " Regulators," already spoken of. With the aid of these men, together with a large body of troops which were shortly expected from Ireland, and the detachment of Clinton, Governor Martin had confidently expected to reduce the colony to obedience. Two highland officers, named M/Donald and M'Leod, succeeded in raising a body of loyalists, with which they attempted to march down to the coast and await the expected succours. In order to do this it was necessary to pass over Moore's Creek bridge, near Wilmington, which had been strongly occupied by a party of the continental militia. Advancing bravely at the head of his men to carry this bridge, M'Leod fell mortally wounded, and the whole of his column were either killed or taken prisoners. Clinton, in the mean while, after touching at New York, where his arrival occasioned considerable alarm, repaired to the rendezvous at Cape Fear, but on learning the disastrous issue of the loyalist rising, determined to await the arrival of the reinforcements, which, after a wearisome delay, at length made their appearance. They consisted of ten ships of war under Admiral Sir Peter Parker, having on board seven regiments, commanded by Lord Cornwallis and other distinguished officers. Clinton now assumed the command, and as there was now no hope of acting advantageously in North Carolina, it was resolved to strike a still more decisive blow by the capture of Charleston, an operation considered to be by no means difficult in itself, and which would have the effect of rendering the English entire masters of South Carolina. Had the meditated attack been suddenly made there can be little doubt that it must have proved successful. But on the contrary there occurred a considerable delay, and having been informed of the project through some intercepted letters to Govei'nor Eden, congress had time to despatch General Lee to Charleston to put the place into a state of defence. At the first alarm, various regiments had marched down to the city, increasing its garrison to about six thousand men. Assisted by the inhabitants and their negro slaves, they laboured most indefatigably to complete the fortifications. All the roads running down to the sea were blockaded, the streets barricaded, the magazines destroyed, intrenchments raised, and every possible means adopted to obstruct the advance of the English. With all this, however, General Lee could entertain no very sanguine hopes of defending the city against the imposing force with which it was threatened. On June 4th, the English fleet made its appearance off* Charleston Bay, and having passed the bar, anchored about three miles from Sullivan's Island. General Clinton despatched a summons to the inhabitants, threatening them with the utmost vengeance of an irritated government, unless they submit- ted, offering at the same time a complete amnesty to such as should lay A.D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. down their arms ; but this proceeding being entirely ineffectual, he prepared chap. for an immediate attack upon the city. There was a fort upon Sullivan's Island, which, as it entirely commanded the difficult channel leading up to .the city, had been strengthened with pecu- liar care, and armed with thirty-six heavy guns, as well as twenty-six others of inferior calibre. The building was constructed of a soft and spongy wood, which deadened the effect of a cannon-ball, and was commanded by Colonel Moultrie, at the head of about three hundred and fifty troops, and some militia. To silence this fort was of course the first object of the British commander, and for this purpose he landed a large body of troops on Long Island, adjacent to Sullivan's .Island, and only separated from it by a narrow channel, often fordable, with orders to cross over and attack it while the fleet cannonaded it in front. Great difficulty was experienced in the outset in getting the heavy ships of war over the bar, which could be effected only by taking out their guns. At length, on the 28th of June, the whole fleet placed themselves in line and began a furious cannonade on the devoted fort. Three of these ships, the Sphyx, Acteon, and Syren, were ordered to take up a position to the west- ward, where they could enfilade the weakest part of the works, and at the same time intercept any succours that might be sent from the city. Had this manoeuvre been successful, it would have been impossible for the fort to have held out; but fortunately for the Americans, the three vessels grounded on a shoal called the Middle Ground, two being with great diffi- culty got off, and one burned on the following day. This fortunate accident encouraged the spirit of the besiegers to the highest pitch, although but recent recruits, and exposed for several hours to a most tremendous cannonade. Amidst a perfect hail-storm of bombs and balls, they coolly and resolutely stood to their guns, and returned the fire of their assailants, until their am- munition failed. As an instance of their daring intrepidity, the flag-staff being shot away, a sergeant, named Jasper, leaped down upon the beach, and in the midst of the hottest broadside deliberately replaced it upon its post. General Lee visited the garrison in the midst of the action, and was received with the greatest enthusiasm. The soldiers, shot down at their posts, exhorted their surviving comrades to stand firm. " I die," said Serjeant M'Donald, " for a glorious cause, but I hope it will not expire with me." So steady and well-directed was the American fire, that the English men-of-war were most severely handled. The Bristol, fifty-gun ship, was twice in flames, her captain was killed. Lord Campbell, the ex-governor, who served as a volunteer, was mortally wounded, and at one time Sir Peter Parker was the only one unhurt on deck. The troops intended to ford the channel and attack the fort in flank, were unable to pass over on account of the unusual depth of water, occasioned by a long prevalence of easterly winds. The flank attack by the vessels had also failed, and thus the Americans were enabled to pass over fresh ammunition and succours from the city into the fort. The engagement had lasted from eleven in the morning till nine in the evening, when the British, owing to the 384 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, accidental failure of two parts of their plan, and the intrepid resistance of the A D 1775 Americans, were forced to retire from the scene of action, and on the follow- ing day set sail, discomfited, for New York. Meanwhile, as the dispute with the parent country grew more envenomed, and all prospect of accommodation more hopeless, the breach between the two parties in the colonies became proportionally wider, and their animosity more inveterate and feariul. Many of the loyalists had at first sincerely disapproved of the proceedings of government and sympathized with the discontented; but as the latter overstepped what seemed the limits of le- gitimate resistance, as the designs of the democratic leaders became more evident — they hastened to retrace their steps, and range themselves on what they believed to be the side of lawful and time-hallowed authority. It is well observed by Guizot, that " sincere and honourable sentiments, fidelity, atfection, gratitude, respect for traditions, and the love of order, were specially the origin of the loyalist party, and composed its strength." This party every where comprised a large proportion of the wealthy' and respectable pro- prietors and merchants, the Episcopal clergy, the Quakers of Pennsylvania, and the Scotch Highlanders of New York, Carolina, and Georgia. Its great- est strength was however in the state of New York, and especially in Tryon county, so called after Governor Tryon, and where Guy Johnson, son of Sir William Johnson, possessed a preponderating influence. Of this numerous class, the members more active in taking the side of government soon be- came the special objects of odium, and were exposed to the outrages of the populace, with whom it was a favourite amusement to tar and feather them, and expose them to the general derision. These proceedings ge- nerated a spirit of mutual hatred and revenge, which by degress inflamed the breasts even of such of the Tories as desired at first to embrace a peaceful neutrality. After the assumption of political power by congress, the breach became incurable, neutrality no longer possible, the direful necessity that revolution brings with it, compelled ev§ry citizen to declare himself either the friend or foe of the popular side. At first congress observed an extreme mo- deration towards the Tories, but as the quarrel proceeded, and every one's hand was against his fellow, as families were divided, and a man's worst foes were those of his own household, it became unavoidable to observe a greater degree of rigour. Committees of safety — agents appointed to watch over the malignants — confiscations and imprisonments, became common. Private malevolence was often indulged under the guise of zeal for the public good. The peaceful and unoffending were dragged into the quarrel. The whole frame of society was rent asunder, till brothers were ready to imbrue their hands in each other's blood. The Tories were forced to make up by intrigue what they wanted in strength. The centre of their machinations was New York, where the provincial assembly had at first refused to send delegates to the continental congress, but were outvoted by the popular party. Governor Tryon, who was much re- spected in the province, had recently returned from England, and it is a sin- A. D. 1775. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 385 gular instance of the divided state of the city, that about the time that "Wash- ch a p. ington passed through New York on his way to Boston, to assume the command of the army, the same escort of honour was appointed both for the royal governor and for the American general. Tryon however had at length seen fit to retire on board the Asia man-of-war, which lay opposite to the city, ready to open upon it on the occasion of any emergency. So lukewarm were the committee of safety, that it was thought prudent to detach some troops of Connecticut, under the command of General Lee, to insure the possession of this important post. The captain of the Asia, hearing of the approach of Lee's troops, threatened to fire upon the city, if they were suffered to take up their quarters. Lee retorted with a threat that displays the excited feelings of the time, " that if he set fire to a single house in consequence of his coming, he would chain a hundred Tories together by the neck, and make that house their funeral pile." On the following session of parliament, which opened in October, 1775, the measures of the ministry were severely canvassed by their opponents. The increasing gravity of the dispute envenomed party animosity to the highest pitch. Even some of the adherents of the ministry resigned their places rather than take part in their arbitrary measures. Petitions against the war flowed in from the mercantile interest. The citizens of London, who from the outset of the dispute had showed themselves the warm advocates of the rights of the colonists, and had raised subscriptions to relieve the sufferers by the Boston Port Bill, were loud and vehement in their complaints. Not- withstanding this storm of opposition the ministry, having a great majority, and supported or rather urged on by the king, were inflexible in their deter- mination to reduce the rebellious colonists by force. The Earl of Effingham, and the eldest son of Lord Chatham, had resigned their commissions in dis- gust, and as the recruiting of fresh forces went on but slowly, a body of Ger- man troops from Brunswick and Hesse were hired to make up the deficiency. No step during the whole of the dispute with America occasioned greater animadversion from the opposition, or sunk so deeply into the minds of the colonists themselves. The final petition of congress had been intrusted to the hands of Governor Penn, and presented to Lord Dartmouth, who informed him that no answer would be returned to it. When examined before the House, Penn gave it as his opinion that no designs of independency had hitherto been formed by congress, as none had indeed at that time been openly avowed ; but the ministry were in possession of letters by John Adams, which plainly indicated the designs entertained by the popular party. The Duke of Richmond moved that the petition of congress might be made the basis of a further reconciliation, and Burke introduced and powerfully supported a bill for the repeal of the obnoxious Acts, granting an amnesty for the past, but his present efforts were as unsuccessful as the former. Besides the military invasion of the colonies, the ministry proceeded to prohibit all trade with them, and to declare their ships and goods, and also those of any trading with them, lawful prizes. The crews of such vessels 3 D A. D. 1775 386 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C vii P ' were to be seized and treated as slaves, — they were to be made to serve on • board British ships of war ; a measure justly characterized by an indignant op- position as a " refinement in cruelty, " " a sentence worse than death," obliging the unhappy men who should be made captives in that predatory war to bear arms against their families, kindred, friends, and country, and after being plundered themselves to become accomplices in plundering their brethren. The ministry proceeded in their cause, sustained as they were not only by the royal influence, and a preponderating majority in the House, but also, it must be confessed, by the general voice of the country , and .to this infatuation, which closed the last avenue to hope, must be attributed the decisive measures shortly afterwards adopted by congress, and scission of the colonies from the empire of England. The contemptuous rejection of the petition of congress showed but too plainly that all hopes of accommodation were vain, and that nothing but the absolute submission of the colonists would satisfy the king and his ministers. The voting of a band of foreign mercenaries to carry fire and sword into America, formed the climax of a long list of grievances and injuries, which had gradually eaten away the last lingering vestiges of loyalty. The king of England was formerly regarded as the father of his children in America ; he had now become their sanguinary and implacable foe, and had pledged his royal word to overcome their obstinacy, and to reduce them to obedience. Blood had been shed, angry and vindictive feelings every where called into action, and a cordial reconciliation had become impossible. And even should the present difficulties be accommodated, what security would there be for the future ? Hitherto, in the hope of ultimate reconciliation, a large body among the Americans had deprecated any intention to throw off the yoke of the parent country, but by the measures of government their minds had become gradually prepared for a change, and now that the last hope of accommodation had vanished, it was felt to be high time to quit their present false position, and assume that which the altered aspect of the quarrel imperatively required. Nothing could in truth, as it has been well observed, be more incongruous than the position of the colonies at that time towards Great Britain. " The war which they had vigorously waged for an entire year was directed against a king to whom protestations of loyalty were incessantly renewed, and the very men who were engaged in acts of rebellion shrunk from the name of rebels. In the tribunals justice was still administered in the name of the king, and prayers were every day offered up for the preservation and welfare of a prince whose authority was not only ignored, but against whom a determined and obstinate contest was maintained. The colonists pretended that they only desired to resume their ancient relations, and re-establish the royal government in its original shape, when in fact the republican system had long been introduced. They declared it to be their wish to arrive at a certain end, while they recurred to every means which tended to conduct them to the contrary one. Never, in a word, had there been sCten before such inconsistency between words and actions." Doubtless, as will have already appeared, there A.D. l?/5. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 387 was from the first a party more far-sighted and determined, who not only chap. secretly desired but incessantly laboured to bring about a result in itself so desirable, and. necessary to the development of their country, as independence. This however was far from being generally the case. However inconsistent with their actions, the wishes of the majority had hitherto been undoubtedly for a reconciliation. They looked to the old country with affection, they were proud of their connexion with her, and they felt it to be painful, perhaps criminal, to break so ancient a bond. It was at this critical period, while this feeling, though inoperative, yet lin- gered in the minds of the people, and when, although the thing itself had become familiarized to most minds as equally necessary and desirable, every one held back from boldly pronouncing the word independence, that there appeared a pamphlet called " Common Sense," written by Thomas Paine, the celebrated author of the Rights of Man, who had recently emigrated from England, and ardently embraced the American cause. Perceiving this hesi- tation in the public mind, he set himself to the work of dissipating it by a clear and convincing statement of the actual position of affairs. He plainly exposed the impossibility of a lasting reconciliation with England, and showed that in- dependence had not only become the only safe or honourable course, but that it was as practicable as it was desirable. Reviewing the British constitution, he attributed to the element of royalty alone the numerous evils which attended its working, evils by which the Americans themselves had already suffered so deeply, and of which they had it now in their power to get rid. This pamphlet, written in a popular and convincing style, and expressly adapted to the state of public feeling, produced an indescribable sensation. The ice was now broken ; those who, although convinced, had hitherto held back, came boldly forward, while many who had halted between two opinions now yielded to the force of necessity and embraced the popular side. When once the idea of independence began to be generally entertained, its fitness to the circumstances of the country must have rendered it irresistible. It opened to the people magnificent visions of the future greatness of America, when untrammeled by foreign control. She had grown up to full maturity, her resources were boundless as her territory, the different colonies had to a con- siderable degree merged their local jealousies in the common cause, they had become acquainted with their own strength and resources; and could no longer brook their degrading dependence upon a distant and arbitrary power. The time was ripe, circumstances propitious, the hand of Providence plainly visible. The cause of America was regarded abroad with a sympathy inflamed by jealousy of the colossal and overgrown power of England. France, her ancient and implacable foe, burned to avenge her Canadian disgraces, and to humble the glory and weaken the resources of her victorious rival. Her assistance might certainly be counted on. Every motive then — the sense of cruel oppres- sion, the conviction of the hopelessness of reconciliation, the flattering desire of independence, and the confident assurance of foreign support — seemed to show conclusively that the decisive hour was come. 388 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. For a long time past circumstances had irresistibly tended to this result. ■ — As the royal authority was virtually abrogated in all the colonies, it became " absolutely necessary to substitute some other system of government, and on this point the citizens of New Hampshire applied tc congress for their advice. This furnished that body with a welcome opportunity of suggest- ing, on the motion of John Adams, to the different assemblies and conven- tions, to establish such form of governments as seemed suitable to their altered circumstances, all authority exercised under the crown of Great Britain being abrogated as unlawful, and the powers of government vested under authority from the people. As this was virtually, though not nominally, a declaration of independence, some of the colonies yet demurred at carrying it out. The con- vention of Virginia had, however, already appointed a committee to draw up a Frame of Government ; while their delegates in congress were instructed to propose a formal Declaration of Independence, — an example shortly afterwards imitated by the representatives of Massachusetts and the New England States. Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Maryland, in which the royalists were very numerous, instructed their delegates to oppose it. And such, after all, was the reluctance in the minds of many to take a step so irrevocable, for once taken, the honour and dignity of the country required that it should be maintained at all events, such the lingering scruples of loyalty and the fear of closing all avenue to an accommodation, such, in short, the apprehension of a new and untried state of things, of the predominance of democratic influence, — that not without a considerable struggle was this momentous measure finally carried. It was Richard Henry Lee, who, on the seventh of June, in pursuance of the instructions of his constituency, first brought forward the motion, " that the United Colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent States, and that their political connexion with Great Britain is, and ought to be, dis- solved." Next day the motion was debated with closed doors, by the whole house, being earnestly seconded by "Wythe, and also by John Adams, who, after his many hesitations, now decisively made up his mind. Dickinson, Livingston, and Rutledge, with many other members, opposed it, either in the anxious hope of a settlement, or because they thought the time was not come to ven- ture upon so bold a step. So strong indeed was the opposition, that the motion passed but by a majority of seven States to six. The final consideration of the subject was now, for a short time, postponed, in order to give time for public opinion to pronounce itself more decidedly. The Pennsylvania assembly was obliged to give way to the popular feeling, and instruct its delegates to support the measure. New Jersey and Mary- land also sent in their adhesion. A committee of five, consisting of Thomas Jefferson, a young Virginia lawyer of remarkable abilities, now rapidly rising into notice, together with John Adams, Franklin, Livingston, and Sherman, was appointed to draw up the " Declaration," itself the produc- tion of Jefferson, but with considerable modification in committee. Some of the most violent paragraphs attacking the king and ministry were ju- VII. A.D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 389 diciously omitted; and it must be confessed that, on this head, the document CI J T A T P - still remains tolerably severe. Another circumstance, noted by Hildreth, is especially worthy of remark. The profession, that " all men are alike free and independent " — the basis of the new political creed — was then, at least, ingenuously felt to be utterly inconsistent with the existence of slavery among those who adopted it. An emphatic denunciation of that system, and a charge against the king for having prostituted his negative for the defeat of all legis- lative attempt to prohibit or restrain " that execrable traffic," was therefore originally included in the resolutions, but afterwards struck out in compliance with the interests of some of the southern States. With these omissions, this celebrated paper, which we here give in full, was adopted by a large ma- jority. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. A Declaration by the Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled. " When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. " We hold these truths to be self-evident : that all men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That, to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long established should not be changed for light and tran- sient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves, by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of go- vernment. The history of the present king of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establish- ment of an absolute tyranny over these States. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world. 390 HISTORY OF AMERICA. A. D. 17 70. chap. " He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. f He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. " He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature ; a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only. . " He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures. " He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. " He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected ; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise ; the State remaining, in the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without and convul- sions within. " He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners, refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. " He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. " He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries. "He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and to eat out their substance. " He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the consent of our legislatures. " He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior to, the civil power. " He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitutions, and unacknowledged by our laws ; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation : — " For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us : " For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these States : " For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : " For imposing taxes on us without our consent : " For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury : " For transporting us beyond seas, to be tried for pretended offences : c: For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighbouring pro- vince, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its bound- A. D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 391 aries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing chap. the same absolute rule into these colonies: " For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, the forms of our governments : g For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. " He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection, and waging war against us. " He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. " He isj at this time, transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries, to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbar- ous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. " He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. " He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. " In every state of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms : our repeated petitions have been answered only by re- peated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people. " Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. "We have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the cir- cumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connexions and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends. "We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America in general Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, Free and Independent States ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that, as free and independent states, they have power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. C H A P. VII. A. D. 1776. S92 HISTORY OF AMERICA. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our for- tunes, and our sacred honour." Thus, not by any deep-laid design of their own, but by the working of that providential law which overrules the errors and passions of men for the ac- complishment of its secret designs, had the Americans been led on to an issue, which, though absolutely necessary for the future development of their coun- try, and to which the under-current of public opinion 'had long irresistibly tended, they would but a short period before have shrunk from contem- plating. We must admire the heroism with which Congress prepared to com- mence a struggle that promised to be long and arduous, no less than the skill with which they grappled the difficulties that beset them. It was not only the native energy of the men, drawn forth into sublime, relief by their tiying and perilous circumstances, but also the habit of self-government, to which they had so long been accustomed, that could enable them, with all their differ- ences of opinion, to pull together, and to organize the new institutions required by their altered position. Without loss of time, they set their hand to the work. A committee was appointed to draw up the terms of confederation, and to define the powers of Congress ; which proved to be a work of time and dif- ficulty, for the separate States were jealous of each other's preponderance, and all were unwilling to surrender to Congress more power than was absolutely indispensable. A board of war was established, of which John Adams was appointed chairman. A secret committee for foreign correspondence had been for some time in operation. Issues of paper money were made to meet the growing demands. Nor was Congress alone active, the different States had to remodel their respective governments, and to make the necessary preparations of men and money, respectively required at their hands. They had to watch over and keep in check the intrigues of their domestic enemies. An immense and complicated machinery had to be created and kept in motion, and the centre of that machinery was Washington. The news of the " Declaration of Independence " was received throughout the Union of the Thirteen United States with the greatest enthusiasm by far the greatest body of the people. " The day is past," writes Adams to his wife — " the 4th day of July will be a memorable epocha in the history of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illu- minations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure that it will cost us to main- tain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet, through all this gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory — I can see that the end is more than worth all the means, and that our posterity will triumph. o/ BOOK III. FROM THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE TO THE CLOSE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. I. — Campaign of 1776. —Battle of Gowanus. —Retreat of Washington through New Jersey. — Engagement on Lake Ticonderoga. — Success at Trenton. — Battle of Prince- ton, etc. II. — Proceedings of Congress.— Campaign of 1777 — Battle of the Brandywine.— Occu- pation of Philadelphia. — Expedition and Surrender of Burgoyne. — Battle of Ger- mantown.— Conway Cabal.— Winter Encampment at Valley Forge. III. — Alliance with France. — Lord North's Measures of Conciliation. — Battle op Monmouth. — Affair of Newport. — Destruction of Wyoming. — End of the Campaign of 1778. IV.— Campaign of 1779. — Reduction of Georgia. — State of the South. — Storming of Stony Point. — Repulse of D'Estaing at Savannah. — Affairs in Congress. — Paul Jones. — Encampment in the Highlands. V. — Campaign of 1780. — Capture of Charleston. — State of the Southern Provinces. — Battle of Camden.— Arrival of the French under Rochambeau.— Treason of Arnold and Execution of Andre. — Franklin at Paris. — Armed Neutrality. VI.— Campaign of 1781.— Mutiny of the Troops.— Greene and Cornwallis in the South. — Investment and Capture of Yorktown. — Battle of Eutaw Springs. — Treaty of Peace. — Massacre of Gnadenhutten. — Retirement of Washington. 3 B HISTORY OF AMERICA. 395 CHAPTER I. CAMPAIGN OP 1776. — BATTLE OP GOWANUS. — RETREAT OP WASHINGTON THROUGH NEW JERSEY. — ENGAGEMENT ON LAKE TICONDEROGA. — SUCCESS AT TRENTON.— RATTLE OF PRINCETON, ETC. A. D. 1776. After the evacuation of Boston, Lord Howe had retired to Halifax, with the c ha p. view, as was justly apprehended by Washington, of directing his next attack against New York. That city had always been the chief seat of Tory influ- ence, and though ex-governor Tryon had been obliged to fly, he still remained on board a vessel at Sandy Hook, and was in constant communication with the royalists. It was suspected, and not without reason, that the most danger- ous plots were being hatched in secret, while the provisional congress seemed to remain either unconscious or paralysed. No sooner had Washington arrived at New York to assume the command of the forces, than his attention was directed to this alarming state of things ; and through his earnest expostulation, a secret committee was appointed with power to apprehend suspected persons. This providential foresight led to the discovery of an insidious scheme, which, had it succeeded, might have given a totally different issue to the impending struggle. Tryon's agents were found to be actively engaged in corrupting the American soldiers with British gold, the mercenary infection had even seized upon Washington's own guard, and a plan had been formed for seizing and carrying him on board an English ship. One of the soldiers was found guilty by a court-martial, and executed ; some of the guilty suspected were thrown into prison, among whom was the mayor himself. The head of the confederacy was broken ; but there yet re- mained enough of the Tory leaven to occasion disquietude and justify a vigilant severity. Meanwhile every thing had been done, consistent with the limited means at Washington's command, to protect New York against Howe's anticipated attack. Putnam had sunk obstructions in the North and East rivers ; batteries had been established in the islands and passages; and two forts had been hastily erected, to command the comparatively narrow passage of the Hudson, a few miles above the city, and before it expands into the broad lake-like basin of the Tappan sea. These were Fort Washington, at the northern end of Now York island, and Fort Lee, on the opposite shore of New Jersey. The troops already at New York, Congress had determined to reinforce by thir- teen thousand eight hundred militia from New England, New York, and New Jersey ; while ten thousand more from Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland were to form " a flying camp," to cover and protect the neigh- bouring State of New Jersey. With these imperfect defences, and this body 3 e 2 CHAP. 1. 396 HISTORY OF AMERICA. of ill-organized, and, as he must "have known them to be, inefficient levies, Washington anxiously, but firmly, awaited the approach of his more power- a d. 1776. f u i adversary. At length, on the 28th of June, the British ships appeared off New York, and a few days after General Howe landed on Staten Island, where he was warmly welcomed by the Tories, and received the promise of co-operation from the loyalists of Long Island and New Jersey. A few days after his arrival, and whilst an attack upon New York might be daily expected, Wash- ington received the news of the passing of the Declaration of Independence, which raised the spirits of the army to the highest pitch. The regiments were paraded and the Declaration read, amidst the most enthusiastic plaudits. The picture of the king, which had hitherto stood like a tutelary genius in the Town Hall, was torn down and destroyed, the royal effigy converted into revolutionary bullets. The expected attack was however for some time deferred. The English ministry had despatched Admiral Lord Howe from England, with large rein- forcements, such as, together with the loyalist rising, upon which they seem ever to have counted, would prove, they imagined, amply sufficient to suppress the insurrection. He now arrived to his brother's assistance, furnished also with proposals for an accommodation, which were to be tried before resorting to further hostilities. A circular letter to the royal governors, stating the terms proposed for a reconciliation, together with a general offer of pardon, were sent on shore under a flag of truce, and were forwarded by Washington to Congress. It is possible that had Howe's arrival been somewhat earlier, these proposals might have in some degree protracted the hesitations in that body, and have sown division in the public mind ; but could have hardly produced any decided effect, inasmuch as they left the matters in dispute main- ly untouched, and offered no security but the royal clemency. As it was, the Rubicon had been passed — the Declaration of Independence put forth, and the only effect of the proclamation was to unite the people more closely toge- ther. Indeed, so far from dreading its effects, Congress caused it to be pub- lished in the newspapers, in order " that the few whom hopes of moderation and justice had still kept in suspense, might now be convinced " that the valour alone of their country is to save its liberties. Although provided with an army and fleet sufficient, as it might well seem, to put down resistance by force, both General Howe and his brother were sincerely anxious to effect if possible a peaceable solution of the quarrel. The Admiral, as generous as he was brave, had undertaken the command of the fleet with marked reluctance. In his place in parliament he had warmly and feelingly descanted upon the horrors of civil war, and declared that " he knew no struggle so painful as that between a soldier's duties as an officer and man. If left to his own choice, he should decline serving ; but if commanded, it be- came his duty, and he should not refuse to obey." Having, to their great regret, failed in their appeal to the American public, the Howes next endea- voured to open a personal communication with Washington. For this pur- A. D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 397 pose a boat was sent with a letter addressed " George Washington, Esq.," under c ha p. which superscription it was however returned. They next despatched Colonel Paterson, adjutant-general of the British army, who was introduced into the presence of the American commander, and presented another letter similarly addressed. But this also Washington declined to receive, upon the ground, that as his public capacity was well known, the letter ought to be suitably di- rected, or that it would appear to be a merely private communication. A conference on the subject of the disputes then took place between the Colonel and Washington, but though conducted with perfect courtesy on both sides, it terminated in nothing satisfactory. " I find," said Washington, " you are only empowered to grant pardons : we have committed no offence, we need no pardon." Soon after. Colonel Palfrey, paymaster-general of the American army, repaired on board Lord Howe's ship to negotiate a change of prisoners. His lordship took this occasion to lament that the fear of displeasing the king had prevented his public recognition of the rank of General Washington, for whom he professed the highest respect. He remarked, with evident emotion, that " Congress had greatly hurt his feelings by reminding him, in one of their publications, of the esteem and respect they had for the memory of his brother, drawing, by manifest inference, a contrast between the survivors and deceased ; that no man could feel more sensibly the respect shown to their family than himself and the General, that they should always esteem America for it, and particularly Massachusetts Bay ; and that he hoped America would one day be convinced that, in their affection for America, he and his brother were also Howes. With these courteous overtures terminated for the present all prospect of a reconciliation. Two months had elapsed since the English general landed on Staten Island, and he had now been joined by all his reinforcements, swelling his army to twenty-four thousand men, well trained, well provided, and led by able and experienced officers. Meanwhile Washington's forces had increased, by the arrival of militia, to about the same number, but vastly different in organiza- tion and equipment. A heterogeneous medley, hurriedly gathered together from the different States, they brought along with them their sectional jealousies and disgusts — the wealthy gentlemen of the middle and southern States re- volting at associating, on a footing of equality, with the officers of the northern and eastern militia, who, though inferior to none in genuine chivalry, were often of a low rank in society, and in manner and bearing hardly raised above the level of their fellow comrades from the plough. Overbearing contempt on one hand, and wounded pride on the other, bred quarrels and disorders which threatened the most serious results, and called for vigorous but kindly remon- strance on the part of Washington. We are reminded here, as at every step, of the immense moral influence which he had already acquired over the minds of his countrymen — an influence alone able to conciliate and to con- trol the ever-recurring discords and discouragements which beset the in- fancy of the republic. " The General most earnestly entreats the officers and soldiers to consider, that they can no way assist our enemies more effectually i 398 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. than by making divisions among themselves, that the honour and success of our __ army and the safety of our bleeding country depend upon harmony and good * agreement with each other, that the provinces are all united to oppose the common enemy, and all distinctions sunk in the name of an American. To make this name honourable, and to preserve the liberty of our country, ought to be our only emulation, and he will be the best soldier and the best patriot who contributes most to this glorious work, whatever his station, and from whatever part of the continent he may come." This spirited appeal had for the present the effect of putting a stop to dissensions, which could only be effectually repressed by a more efficient organization of the army. In the expectation that Howe would direct his attack by way of Long Island, a body of nine thousand men had been encamped at Brooklyn, pro- tected by a line of works executed under the superintendence of General Greene, extending from "Wallab out Bay on the East river to Gowan'scove on New York Bay. In advance was a range of wooded heights, crossed directly by two roads, while a third turned their eastern extremity near the shore of the bay, and a fourth, by falling into the Jamaica road, the western. The central passes, leading over the hills, were guarded and fortified, and orders had been given carefully to watch over them all. But General Greene, to whom the command was intrusted, and who perfectly understood the ground, happened to fall ill, and the command devolved on Putnam, who was not so well acquainted with it, and by some neglect, or want of foresight, the Jamaica road was left without adequate protection, neither was a proper system of communication kept up between the different posts. Such was the position of the Americans when the British troops landed on Long Island, extending their line along the southern side of the heights which intervened between them and the American camp. Opposite the middle of the heights was De Heister with the centre composed of Hessians, the left wing under General Grant prepared to attack by the lower road, while General Clinton, supported by Earl Percy and General Cornwallis, ad- vanced at the head of the right wing towards the unprotected Jamaica road, with the purpose of turning the American left, placing them between two fires, and cutting off their retreat to the camp. This combination, as sagaciously planned as it was vigorously executed, proved, notwithstanding the most resolute bravery on the part of the Ameri- cans at particular points, entirely successful. About nine o'clock at night Clinton's division advanced steadily and swiftly towards the Jamaica road, and after capturing a patrol, a little before day-break had attained this spot, the key of the position, without obstacle. Grant meanwhile advanced at midnight along the lower road, and thus came into contact with the American troops under Lord Sterling, while at day- break De Heister assaulted the American centre posted upon the crest of the hills. One of the ships meanwhile kept thundering on the American right. The object of the English was to draw the attention of their enemy from what was passing on their left, but no sooner were they aware that Clinton stood A.D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 399 prepared to act on the offensive, than they advanced to the attack with chap. vigour, and after a strenuous resistance, succeeded in forcing the passages, and gradually driving in their opponents. Meanwhile Clinton, unopposed on the Jamaica road, marched rapidly through Bedford, and threw himself upon the left flank of the Americans, who finding themselves in a way to be cut off, endeavoured to retreat to the camp, but were intercepted and driven back upon the Hessians, or forced to fly into the woods. Cornwallis at the same time pushed round to cut off Lord Sterling, who was taken prisoner, his corps with great difficulty effecting their retreat. Sullivan, hemmed in as he was by De Heister on one side and Clinton on the other, was obliged to surrender. The defeat of the Americans was complete at all points, and upwards of a thousand prisoners remained in the hands of the enemy. Such as escaped fell back within the lines at Brooklyn, closely pursued by the victorious English. Inexperienced as were the Americans in the science of war, having so extensive and broken a line to defend, without cavalry, and attacked by a vastly superior and highly disciplined force, the issue of the combat might have been foreseen, and Washington, it is evident, almost an- ticipated it. Speaking of his soldiers before the struggle, he observed, " The superiority of the enemy and the expected attack does not seem to have depressed their spirits. These considerations lead me to think that, though the appeal may not terminate as happily as I could wish, yet that the enemy will not succeed in their views without considerable loss. Any advantage they may gain I trust will cost them dear." He was not, however, prepared for so complete a discomfiture as this ; and his anguish, at witnessing it, is said to have been extreme. During the action he had crossed over to the camp at Brooklyn, now crowded with disheartened fugitives, and menaced with an immediate attack by the English, flushed with victory and eager to be led on to the assault. The moment was fearfully critical. Had the counsels of the English officers been as vigorous as the temper of their troops was excited, the lines would have been at once stormed and probably carried. But whether General Howe dreaded the result of thus attacking a desperate foe, or supposed that with the co-opeiation of the ships the enemy could not escape him, he preferred to make regular approaches, and began immediately to open trenches. The rain poured incessantly for two days, and the Americans were exposed to it un- sheltered. Had the English ships advanced up the East river, and stationed themselves between Brooklyn and New York, nothing could have saved the camp; but a strong north-east wind had hitherto prevented them from doing so. Every moment was precious, when a sudden shift of wind would cut off the possibility of flight. It was known besides, that Clinton was threatening to send part of his army across the sound, thus menacing New York. "Washington called a council of war, at which it was resolved to retreat instantly. The hour of eight in the evening of the twenty-ninth of August was fixed upon for the embarkation. Every thing had been A. D. 1776. 400 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, prepared, and the troops were ready to march down, but the force of the wind and ebb tide delayed them for some hours, and seemed as if it would entirely frustrate the enterprise. The enemy, toiling hard at the approaches, were now so near, that the blows of their pickaxes and instruments could be distinctly heard, while the noise of these operations deadened all sound of the American movements, which were carried on in the deepest silence. About two in the morning, a thick fog settling over Long Island prevented all sight of what was going on, and the wind shifting round to the south-west, the soldiers entered the boats, and were rapidly transferred to the opposite shore. So complete were the arrangements, that almost all the artillery, with the provisions, horses, waggons, and ammunition safely crossed over to New York. Washington, who, from the commencement of the action till he had seen the troops placed out of danger, had never closed his eyes, and been rarely out of the saddle, was himself the last to quit the shore. Scarcely had the fog cleared off, when the British saw with amazement the last American boat, which had returned to fetch off some munitions, fast nearing the opposite bank of the East river. Washington had saved his army. Several thousand men were still assembled in New York Island, but their leader was but too sensible how little reliance could be placed upon them. A highly disciplined force may succeed in bearing up against even a series of reverses, but to the undisciplined a single one is often enough. The suc- cesses of Lexington and Bunker Hill had so excited the spirits of the American soldiers, that they undervalued the importance of military tactics, and believed that in native valour and determined courage they would prove an overmatch for the mercenary, if better trained, soldiers of the king. The recent defeat had opened their eyes to this mistake, and they now, by a na- tural revulsion, fell into the opposite error. In spite of all his influence, Washington beheld his army falling rapidly away. He had long felt that, with the present system of limited enlistments, and necessarily imperfect dis- cipline, it would be impossible to maintain the conflict ; and he resolved to turn his present distresses to account, by making a vigorous appeal to Con- gress for the establishment of a standing army. " Our situation (thus he wrote to Congress) is truly distressing. The check our detachment sustained on the 27th ultimo, has dispirited too great a pro- portion of our troops, and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impa- tient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off; in some instances, almost by whole regiments, by half ones, and by companies at a time. This circumstance of itself, independent of others, when fronted by a well-ap- pointed enemy, superior in number to our whole collected force, would be sufficiently disagreeable ; but, when their example has infected another part of the army, when their want of discipline, and refusal of almost every kind of restraint and government, have produced a like conduct but too common to the whole, and an entire disregard of that order and subordination neces- 1 HISTORY OF AMERICA, 401 sary to the well-doing of an army, and which had been inculcated before, as chap. well as the nature of our military establishment would admit of, — our condi- ,' — tion becomes still more alarming ; and, with the deepest concern, I am obliged to confess my want of confidence in the generality of the troops. " All these circumstances fully confirm the opinion I ever entertained, and which I more than once in my letters took the liberty of mentioning to Con- gress, that no dependence could be put in a militia, or other troops, than those enlisted and embodied for a longer period than our regulations heretofore have prescribed. I am persuaded, and as fully convinced as I am of any one fact that has happened, that our liberties must of necessity be greatly hazarded, if not entirely lost, if their defence is left to any but a permanent standing army ; I mean, one to exist during the war. Nor would the expense, inci- dent to the support of such a body of troops as would be competent to almost every exigency, far exceed that, which is daily incurred by calling in succour and new enlistments, which, when effected, are not attended with any good consequences. Men who have been free and subject to no control, cannot be reduced to order in an instant ; and the privileges and exemptions, which they claim and will have, influence the conduct of others ; and the aid de- rived from them is nearly counterbalanced by the disorder, irregularity, and confusion they occasion." Whilst Washington, on one hand, was urging the adoption of more vigor- ous measures ; the Howes, on the other, taking advantage of the discourage- ment in the American army, which they naturally concluded would induce Congress to lower their tone, despatched then a prisoner, General Sullivan, to Philadelphia, with further advances towards a pacification. Unable of- ficially to recognise or treat with Congress, the British commanders expressed their desire of conferring with some members of that body, as private gentle- men, to effect if possible some amicable settlement of the dispute. The Congress replied, that as representatives of the American confederation, they were unable consistently to send any of their members in their private capacity, but would depute a committee to wait upon the Howes, upon whom they might look in whatever light they pleased. Meanwhile, the prospects of accommodation, thus opened to Congress, occasioned considerable debate, which terminated in the resolution, the die being now cast, to maintain their independence at all hazards, and in spite of all reverses. With this view, Franklin, John Adams, and John Rutledge were deputed to confer with the Howes, at Staten Island. Nothing could be more friendly than the disposition of the Howes ; but, as before, they were unfurnished with any proposals beyond a promise of pardon, and vague promises of the royal bene- volence, and of a revision of the subjects in dispute. But even a distinct promise of the reversal of all the obnoxious acts of parliament would not now have proved enough. The terms that would once have been gladly welcomed, it was now too late to listen to. The honour of the American nation was pledged to the maintenance, at all risks, of a resolution so solemnly entered into in the face of the world. The conference therefore terminated as might have 402 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, been expected. The deputies declared, " That the associated colonies con Id — '. not accede to any peace or alliance, but as free and independent States. As D,1?76, such, they were ready to enter into a treaty of pacification with Great Britai n, but not otherwise." Regretting that they were unable to negotiate up:m these terms, the Howes broke off the conference. Appealing from the stii b- bornness of Congress to the people at large, they next issued a proclamation, promising them a revisal of the obnoxious Acts, and urging them to return to tb-eir allegiance. Nothing therefore now remained to Washington, but to resume hostilities, which had commenced so inauspiciously for the American cause. Perhaps no one but himself would have had the moral firmness steadily to look his dis- couragements in the face, and to persevere in spite of them ; and it is certain that no one else could have exercised that moral influence, so far beyond mere generalship, which could alone hold together the disjointed elements of the army. The character of the struggle, he had the sagacity to see, must be tedious, desultory, and painful, redeemed by few of those brilliant exploits requisite to dazzle the public mind and sustain the enthusiasm of his coun- try. With so ill-compacted a force, it must be long ere he could hope to face the enemy in a pitched battle with any chance of success ; all he could expect was to impede his march, cut off his supplies, and harass his progress ; forced to retreat from prudential motives, when his natural temper would have led him to solicit the combat ; blamed for inevitable defeats, and looked to for impossible victories. By his recent triumph Howe had acquired the possession of Long Island, and was preparing to pass over the East river and menace New York ; but where the blow would fall, what were the numbers, plans, and dispositions of the English army, Washington knew not with any certainty. To prevent sur- prise, he had removed the main body of his army to the heights of Harlem north of the city, overlooking the Harlem river, sending across a portion of the stores and baggage, and establishing his head- quarters at Morrisiana, whence he could better watch the movements of the English on the opposite side of the strait. A considerable force still remained in the city under the command of Putnam, ready either to act in its defence or retreat, as the case might require. To obtain a knowledge of the enemy's plans was now of the highest im- portance, and Washington made known his wish to Colonel Know] ton, one of the bravest and most resolute of his officers, who commanded a regiment of light infantry, which formed the van of the American army. Knowlton called together his subordinates, and stated to them the wish of the general. The appeal was responded to by Nathan Hale, a native of Con- necticut, educated at Yale College, an excellent scholar, winning in his man- ners, possessing a fine taste, and animated above all with the most ardent enthusiasm in his country's cause. After the battle of Lexington, he had obtained a commission in the army, and had already given excellent promise as an officer. Contrary to the remonstrances and forebodings of his friends, he determined to assume the perilous mission. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 403 Having disguised himself, he crossed over to Long Island, passed through chap. the camp of the enemy, obtained the necessary information, and had even step ■ ■■- ped into the boat in order to return, when he was apprehended on suspicion, and carried before Sir William Howe. Immediately placed upon his trial as a spy, he was convicted upon his own confession, and, according to military law, ordered to be hanged on the following morning. Far from any sympathy being exhibited towards him, his treatment during his last hours was harsh and cruel in the extreme. The provost marshal, whose office it was to carry the sentence into effect, was himself a refugee, and animated by the bitterest hatred. The attendance of a clergyman and even the use of a Bible were denied the unhappy captive, and his last affectionate letters to his mother and sister were destroyed. For this last piece of cruelty the provost marshal assigned a reason, which ought rather to have excited admiration than called forth malevolence towards its ob- ject ; " He would not have," he said, " the rebels to know, that they had a man in their army who could die with so much firmness." Unknown and unfriended, young Hale met his ignominious fate with unflinching cour- age, regretting only with his latest breath that he had but one life to lay down in the cause of his country. Not long after this unhappy episode, Howe's designs became apparent enough, and they were crowned with entire success. He declined bombarding the city, which contained a great number of adherents, and would be desir able as quarters for his army. Instead of this, sending several ships up the North and East rivers, the fire from which swept entirely across the island, he began, under cover of it, to land his troops at Kip's Bay, about mid- way between New York and Harlem. Works had been thrown up on the spot, sufficient at least to maintain a resistance till further succour could arrive ; but no sooner did the English set foot on shore, than the troops posted in them were seized with a panic, broke, and fled, communicating their terror to two New England brigades, who on the first alarm of a landing had been despatched to their support. It was at this moment that Washing- ton, hurrying to the scene of action, fell in with the entire party retreating in disorder without firing a single shot. The sight was too much for his ex- cited feelings, and for once his equanimity gave way before a sense of the almost hopelessness of his task. He galloped to and fro among the fugitives, entreating them to face the enemy, he struck them with the flat of his sword, snapped his pistols at them, and utterly unable to stay the rout, dashed his hat on the ground, exclaiming, " Are these the men with whom I am to de- fend America ! " Abandoned by all, and rooted to the spot, he seemed not merely incapable of saving himself by flight, but even as though he invoked destruction ; and had it not been for his officers, who seized his bridle and forcibly dragged him off the field, he would, in all probability, have been shot or taken prisoner. As the fugitive troops retired, they encountered a reinforcement hastening to their support, and, ashamed of their former panic, faced about and desired 3 r 2 A. D, 17/6. 404 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. t b e \ eo \ against the enemy. But unable as he was to place any firm reliance upon them, Washington judged it more prudent to fall back upon Harlem heights. By this time the British officers had landed all their forces, and had they pushed vigorously forward would, by placing themselves across the island midway between Washington at Harlem and Putnam in New York, have effectually cut off the latter, and compelled him to surrender. Orders had been despatched to him instantly to evacuate the city, and in the midst of hurry and confusion he took the lower road by Greenwich, leaving behind him his heavy artillery and a large quantity of stores and provisions. The delay of the British, generally attributed to the general's stopping for refresh- ment, alone prevented his being cut off with his entire division, and as it was, three hundred of his men fell into the hands of the enemy. No sooner had he departed than a detachment of the royal troops entered the city, where they were warmly received by the Tories. The bitterest feel- ing existed between the two hostile parties, and it was fearfully exemplified by means of an accident that occurred a few nights after the occupation. This was a fire, which broke out in the dead of night, and owing to the drought of the season and a strong south wind, increased with alarming rapidity. Up- wards of a thousand buildings were consumed, and but for the exertions of the soldiers and sailors the whole city would probably have been destroyed. In the excited state of party feeling* it was said that the " Sons of Liberty " were the incendiaries, with a view to drive out the army, and several sus- pected persons were hurled into the blazing buildings by the soldiers. General Howe, in the mean while, had taken up a position with the main body of his troops in front of Washington's intrenchments at Harlem, extending across the island from the East to the North river, supported at each extre- mity by his ships. Within their intrenchments the " morale " of the Ame- rican troops revived, they reflected with shame on the events of the day, and determined to retrieve their character on the first opportunity. Volunteers came forward next morning, and under the command of Colonel Knowlton went out to reconnoitre the enemy. A party of the British came forward to meet them, and a spirited skirmish ensued, in which the very same men who the day before had fled so disgracefully, behaved with such spirit as decidedly to have the best of the encounter, though at the loss of their gal- lant commander, who had led them into action. This incident revived the drooping confidence of the troops, and was no less encouraging to Washing- ton himself, after his recent and bitter mortification. He occupied himself diligently with strengthening his lines, which Howe considered too formida- ble to be attacked with prudence, until he had obtained reinforcements. While the two armies thus remained inactive in face of each other, Wash- ington was earnestly engaged in correspondence with Congress. The state of his army, though somewhat raised from despondency by the recent success, was deplorable. Hospitals were wanting to receive the numerous sick, who were exposed almost unsheltered to the inclemency of the weather. Deser- A. D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 405 tions were constantly taking place, and the very next reverse might occasion chap. the entire dissolution of the army. The feelings of Washington were thus expressed to Congress. " There is no situation upon earth less enviable, or more distressing, than that person's who is at the head of troops regardless of order and discipline, and unprovided with almost every necessary. In a word, the difficulties, which have for ever surrounded me since I have been in the service, and kept my mind constantly upon the stretch ; the wounds, which my feelings as an officer have received by a thousand things, that have happened contrary to my expectations and wishes ; the effect of my own con- duct, and present appearance of things, so little pleasing to myself, as to render it a matter of no surprise to me if I should stand capitally censured by Congress ; added to a consciousness of my inability to govern an army composed of such discordant parts, and under such a variety of intricate and perplexing circumstances ; — induce not only a belief, but a thorough convic- tion in my mind, that it will be impossible, unless there be a thorough change in our military system, for me to conduct matters in such a manner as to give satisfaction to the public, which is all the recompence I aim at or ever wished for." Reluctant as Congress had been to establish a standing army, they had now drawn the sword and cast away the scabbard, and the recent losses seconded so powerfully the expostulations of Washington, that a scheme was drawn up in harmony with his suggestions, with which a committee of delegates re- paired to the camp at Harlem, in order to confer with him on the subject. The new army was to consist of eighty-eight battalions, to be provided for by the respective States in due proportion, and the soldiers, who received a bounty for enlistment, were required to serve for the whole war, — the system of limited enlistments having been found the great obstacle to discipline. Great difficulties however were still to be surmounted. The selection of officers for their respective quotas was at first to be left to the States them- selves, instead of confided to the commander-in-chief; but a midway course was afterwards agreed upon, by which the States were to send commissioners to arrange the appointments with him. While engaged in deep and anxious conference with the delegates of Con- gress, Washington had also to keep a watchful eye on the movements of his skilful adversary. The two armies had now maintained the same posi- tion for three weeks, when Howe, finding the lines at Harlem too strong to be attacked with any chance of success, determined upon a change of tactics. He first sent some ships of war up the Hudson, which, in spite of the American batteries, succeeded in forcing a passage, thus intercepting the communication, and preventing supplies from reaching Washington by the river. Leaving behind him a force to cover New York, he transferred the rest of his army to Pell's Point on Long Island Sound, and took up a position on the neighbouring heights of New Rochelle. Hence, having received a strong reinforcement of Hessians and Waldeckers under General Knyphau- sen, he threatened a movement in the rear of Washington, so as to cut him A. D. 1776. 406 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, off from all communication either by land or water, or compel him to a general action. A council of war was now called, when, to traverse this design, it was resolved to evacuate the island and advance into the interior. The question arose, whether a garrison should be left behind in Fort Washington, a mea- sure which seemed of little use, inasmuch as the British had obtained the command of the river. Washington and Lee were opposed to this plan, but it was strenuously urged by Greene, who considered the fort to be sufficiently strong to resist an attack from the enemy. It was supposed too that the be- sieged would always be able to escape, if needful, by crossing the river; and a garrison of two thousand men was accordingly left on it, under the command of Colonel Magaw. The American army, deplorably wanting in draught cattle to remove their baggage and munitions, advanced to the northward, along the heights above the river Bronx, which separated them from the columns of the enemy, who followed after on close pursuit. Washington halted at White Plains, where he concentrated his forces in a strongly fortified camp. No sooner had they come up with him, than the British attacked a detached body of Americans, posted on a hill in the neighbourhood of their camp, and succeeded in driving them in. A general assault was momentarily expected to take place. For political reasons, however, afterwards stated before the House of Commons, Howe was induced to remain inactive at this critical moment, and Washington took advantage of his delay, to remove his whole force by night to a much stronger position, on the neighbouring heights of North Castle, where the American army stood secure against all further attack. Having thus failed to enclose his enemy, Howe suddenly altered his plans, and advancing to the southward, hastened to invest Fort Washington, and menace New Jersey and Philadelphia. This movement called for a corresponding change on the part of Washington. Accordingly, leaving General Lee at the head of about four thousand men, including the New England militia, whose term of enlistment was about to expire, he ordered all the forces west of the Hudson to make a tedious circuit, and cross the river at King's Ferry, at the entrance of the Hudson Highlands, the enemy's ships occupying the lower part of the river. He next visited the strong posts in the Highlands, ordered fresh works to be thrown up, and crossing the river, joined his troops at Hackinsac, near Fort Lee, exactly opposite to Fort Washington, which the enemy had already invested. The policy of maintaining this post had always seemed exceedingly doubtful ; but it was now too late to evacuate it — the troops could not be got off in face of the enemy. Colonel Magaw had already been summoned to surrender, but replied, that it was his intention to defend the post to the uttermost. The evening before the attack, Washington was crossing the river to visit the garrison, when he met Greene and Putnam coming over from it, who assured him the men were in high spirits and would make a good defence, which induced him to return with them to the camp. The fort stands on bold ground, overlooking the magnificent Hudson, and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 407 the approach to it on the land side is difficult, and obstructed with wood. chap. Next morning, the enemy unexpectedly attacked it in four columns, at as many different points. Notwithstanding the most strenuous resistance on the part of the Americans, who firing from behind the rocks and trees, which impeded the ascent, cut off four hundred of their assailants, such was the vigour of the attack, and the emulation between the Germans and English, that the outworks were successively carried, and the skirmishers driven back in tumultuous confusion within the body of the place. , During the approach of the enemy, Washington, with Putnam, Greene, and other officers, had crossed the river, and were ascending to the fort, when seeing that they were running the risk of capture for an insufficient object, they returned. It is said, that from the post whence he intently watched the onset, Washington could see his soldiers bayonetted, when imploring mercy on their knees, and was unable to restrain his tears. The assailants having forced their way within a hundred yards of the fort, Colonel Magaw was again summoned to surrender. With a confused and disheartened crowd of fugitives, who could not be brought to man the lines, he had no alternative but to comply; and thus two thousand men, with a considerable quantity of artillery, fell into the hands of the victori- ous English — another limb lopped off the feeble and disorganized American army ! Scarcely had Fort Washington fallen, when a body of six thousand men, under Lord Cornwallis, one of the most active and energetic of the British officers, crossed the Hudson to Fort Lee, to pursue the American army. The fort was hurriedly abandoned, with a heavy loss of provisions and stores, and the garrison joined the main body, which rapidly retreated before the English. Such was the profound discouragement occasioned by the then recent suc- cesses, that Washington found his army rapidly falling to pieces, and in danger of utter and speedy dissolution. During the march, the term of en- listment of the corps forming the " Flying Camp," for the protection of New Jersey, expired, and no persuasion could induce them to enlist. Destitute of every necessary, broken by repeated defeats, and so closely pursued by a victorious enemy, a feeling of despair succeeded to the overstrained enthu- siasm which had at first animated them, and the only wonder is that even the shadow of an army should have remained on foot. Earnestly entreating the support of Congress, and the governor of New Jersey, Washington retreated across the Passaic and the Raritan with Lord Cornwallis pressing so closely at his heels, that the van of the British army entered Newark, and Brunswick, Princeton, and Trenton, just as the Ameri- can rear had left. The destruction of the bridge over the Raritan arrested the enemy's advance for some hours, and probably saved the baggage and artillery. A delay of several hours took place at Brunswick, beyond which point Cornwallis had been ordered not to advance. Had that active officer been left unfettered, it can hardly be doubted that he would have suc- ceeded in overtaking Washington, and capturing his entire force, which A. D. 1776. 408 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. h a d melted away to between fourteen and fifteen hundred men, when he suc- ceeded in placing the Delaware between himself and his pursuers. Having at length come up, Howe prepared to pass the river, but all the boats had been removed, save one large flour barge, which had accidentally been overlooked, and which was only discovered and carried off just in time to prevent the British from making use of it to get a party across, seize the boats upon the opposite side, and pass over their entire army. Baffled at this critical moment, they had still the means of making rafts and pontoons, and why they neglected to do so, when by one bold stroke they might have crushed the enemy and put an end to the war, seems perfectly inexplicable. Washing- ton at all events had fully expected it, and declared in his despatch to Con- gress, that nothing could have saved him but this inaction of the enemy. Since the beginning of the campaign there had been little else than a series of disasters ; Long Island, New York, and the whole of New Jersey had fallen into the hands of the victorious English, the army had dwindled to a feeble handful, and seemed incapable of ever being reorganized. The royal commanders probably thought they had well nigh crushed the insur- rection, and that the Americans would see the hopelessness of attempting any further resistance. By many indeed the cause was believed to be irrecover- ably lost. Taking advantage of this state of things, the Howes issued another proclamation, promising pardon to all who should abandon their op- position, and within the space of two months swear allegiance to the king. Those provinces which had been the theatre of the campaign, already con- tained a large proportion of loyalists, who gladly welcomed the re-establish- ment of the royal authority. The lukewarm and timid, seeing the country overrun by the enemy's troops, and the miseries of civil war already com- mencing, trembled for the security of their families and homes, and for several days after the proclamation, hundreds came in and took the oaths. During his retreat Washington had despatched repeated messages to General Lee, who, it will be remembered, he had left behind in the State of New York, to join him immediately with all his forces. With this requisi- tion Lee complied with great reluctance and tardiness. Conscious that he was almost the only thoroughly educated officer in the American service, he medi- tated some exploit which should confer on him a special distinction, and wished to retain his separate command, and to watch the contingencies that might offer. Compelled at length to obey, he moved in the direction of Philadelphia ; but, having taken up his quarters one night in a detached building, was, through the information of a Tory, suddenly surprised by a party of English horse, and carried prisoner to the camp. As the most ex- aggerated idea of his abilities was entertained, so that by many he was called the Palladium of America, his loss at this critical juncture deepened the de- pression of the patriot party, and it was even suspected, though unfairly, that he had adopted this expedient to abandon a sinking cause and return to his natural allegiance. The command of his detachment now devolved on Sullivan, who repaired with it to the assistance of Washington. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 409 In anticipation of a speedy attack by the enemy, Washington, at this alarm- chap. ing crisis, pressed upon Congress the necessity of more vigorous measures - — ^-7— for the re-organization of the army. " The enemy," he observes to the pre- sident, "are daily gathering strength from the disaffected. This strength, like a snowball, will increase by rolling, unless some means can be devised to check effectually the progress of the enemy's arms. Militia may probably do it for a while, but in a little while also the militia of those States, which have been frequently called upon, will not turn out at all, or if they do, it will be with so much reluctance and sloth as to amount to the same thing. Instance New Jersey ! Witness Pennsylvania ! Could any thing but the river Dela- ware have saved Philadelphia ? Can any thing be more destructive to the recruiting service, than giving ten dollars bounty for six weeks' service of the militia, who come in you cannot tell how, go you cannot tell when, and act you cannot tell where, consume your provisions, exhaust your stores, and leave you at last at a critical moment ? These, sir, are the men I am to depend upon ten days hence, this is the basis on which your cause will and must for ever depend, till you get a large standing army sufficient of itself to oppose the enemy." ■ Notwithstanding the unfortunate reverses that had lately attended his arms, Congress had by this time acquired so profound a confidence in the character and abilities of Washington, such, besides, was the manifest imminence of the peril, that throwing aside their lingering apprehensions from the establishment of a standing army, they at once empowered Wash- ington to raise and embody one, conferring on him at the same time, for the period of six months, the authority of a military dictator. " Happy is it for this country," said Congress in their letter to him on this occasion, " that the general of their forces can safely be intrusted with the most un- limited power, and neither personal security, liberty, or property, be in the least degree endangered thereby." Leaving Washington to obtain a little breathing time before sustaining fresh attacks, let us turn our attention to the northern army, which, as before observed, after the daring but unsuccessful attack upon Quebec, had been driven discomfited out of Canada, and taken refuge on the shores of Lake Champlain. Upon the first distribution of commands, Philip Schuyler, a wealthy and influential gentleman in the neighbourhood of Albany, had been appointed general in the northern district. The same mutual jealousies which had already been so rife in Washington's camp, prevailed between the sol- diers of New England and New York ; and Schuyler, as a leading inhabitant of the latter province, had become unpopular with the former. Owing to the arts of the New England delegates in Congress, Gates had been ap- pointed to the command of the northern army over his head. His enemies having even accused him of treachery, he offered his resignation, which Con- gress however refused to accept, and in his subordinate position he continued zealously to labour for his country's cause, and eventually rendered her the most vital services. 3 G 410 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. General Carleton, the able governor of Canada, having obtained reinforce- ■ ments from England, had advanced to the northern extremity of Lake * Champlain with thirteen thousand troops, with which he was eager to pursue and destroy the disorganized American army, now reduced by malignant diseases and continual desertion to a feeble body of five thousand men. But all the boats on the lake had been withdrawn, and the American force, abandon- ing Crown Point, had been judiciously secured within the walls of Fort Ticonderoga. The entire lake thus intervened betwixt the two armies ; its shores, still covered with thick forests, were impassable by land. As there was no doubt that Carleton would speedily equip a flotilla to pursue the Ameri- cans, Gates resolved to prepare another with which to impede his progress. The design was carried out with indefatigable perseverance, ship carpenters and stores were brought from the New England sea-ports, and in the course of three months, by the middle of August, sixteen vessels of different burden were ready to contest possession of the lake. A new opportunity was thus opened to Arnold, ready to meet any odds so that he could but gratify that thirst for distinction, that love of daring and desperate enterprise, of which he had already given such signal proofs in the romantic expedition to Quebec. Although suspected of dishonesty, and dis- liked for his restless, jealous, and turbulent character, his courage and conduct were unquestionable, and as he had moreover formerly been a shipmaster, he received from Gates the command of the little flotilla. Carleton, meanwhile, had been no less active than his opponents, and as the resources at his command were much greater than theirs, the results were p«roportionably imposing. The frames of five large vessels, prepared in Eng- land and brought across by land from Montreal to St. John's, were soon put together on the lake. A large number of gun-boats were also brought from the St. Lawrence and dragged over the rapids of the Sorel at Fort Chambly. This flotilla was worked by seven hundred seamen from the British ships, whereas the American was manned by soldiers drafted from the army. Cautiously advancing up the lake, Arnold, aware of the disadvantage he would be placed under in the open expanse with so inferior a force, posted his vessels with great judgment in the narrow channel between Valcour Island and the shore, so that he could neither be surrounded nor attacked except in front by a portion of the enemy's flotilla. Early on the morn- ing of the 11th of October, they came in sight, led by Captain Pringle in the Inflexible, the youthful Edward Pellew, afterwards so brilliantly distinguished as Lord Exmouth, being among his officers. Sweeping round the southern point of the island, the English vessels were soon engaged with the American, and the combat raged for four hours with the most desperate fury. Arnold had posted himself on board the " Congress " galley, he pointed every gun with his own hand, and cheered on his men with his characteristic enthusiasm. His men fell dead around him, the hull of his ship riddled with cannon-balls, the mainmast shattered, and the rigging cut to pieces, yet still he continued to fight on. The position he had chosen A. D. 1776. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 411 greatly neutralized the superior force of the enemy, and thus the battle was chap. yet undecided, when night closed in upon the scene. One of the American vessels had been burned, another sunk, and the rest had suffered very severely. To renew the combat on the morrow was so obviously hopeless, that Arnold and his officers, after holding consultation, determined upon falling back to Crown Point. This however was much easier to resolve on than to execute, for the British commander had disposed his ships in a line from the island to the shore, so as to prevent the retreat of his enemy till daylight should enable him to attack and overpower him. But the night happened to be unusually dark, it blew a stiff breeze from the north, and as soon as the English sailors had retired to rest after a hard- fought day, the American ships hoisted their sails, and slipped unperceived be- tween those of the foe, Arnold fetching up the rear in the battered and crazy " Congress," and by daylight had placed full ten miles between them- selves and their too powerful opponents. No sooner was the flight discovered, than the English, full of shame and vexation, crowded all sail in pursuit. A contrary wind baffled them during the day, but on the following morning they were close upon the fugi- tives. The foremost ships continued their flight and succeeded in effecting their escape, but the rear, consisting of Arnold's galley, with the " Wash- ington " and four gondolas, were attacked with redoubled fury. The "Wash- ington " was soon obliged to strike, but Arnold continued to fight on till his ship was reduced to a mere wreck and surrounded by the enemy's squadron. He then ran the " Congress " and the four gondolas on shore, set them on fire, and wading on shore with his men, drew them up in line to guard the burning vessels against the approach of the enemy, lest they should be carried off as trophies. Having waited till they were consumed, he effected his escape through the woods to Crown Point, narrowly escaping an Indian ambush which was posted to cut him off only an hour after he passed. The result of this protracted encounter was disastrous for the Americans, who lost eleven vessels, and for those of the British. Carleton immediately advanced to Crown Point, with the intention of attacking Ticonderoga, but the garrison had by this time been increased to eight thousand men, it was now the middle of October, and the English general was reluctantly obliged to retire into winter quarters. The year 1776, so disastrous to the Americans, was now drawing to a close. Howe and Cornwallis had returned to New York, and the English army, distri- buted in cantonments on the Delaware and its borders, considered the campaign was at an end. Three regiments of the much-dreaded Hessians, under Colonel Ralle, a brave and distinguished officer, together with a troop of British light-horse, lay at Trenton, and smaller detachments in the neigh- bouring forts of Bordentown, Burlington, Black Horse, and Mount Holly. The festivities of Christmas were at hand, and in presence of an enemy they looked upon as virtually crushed, it was justly anticipated by Washington that the British would give themselves up to enjoyment, and their usual vigilance 3 g 2 412 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. wou ld "be relaxed. Being by this time reinforced by the arrival of Lee's A D 1776 division, and other succours, he determined to take advantage of this state of things, to strike a blow that might redeem an unfortunate campaign, and in- spire the army and the country with renovated courage. Having matured his plans, he divided his forces into three corps, with the first of which, ac- companied by Greene and Sullivan, he proposed to pass the Delaware at M'Konkey's ferry, nine miles above Trenton, and fall upon the Hessians in that town. The second division, under General Irwin, was to cross over at Trenton ferry, and by stopping the bridge over the Assumpink, cut off the enemy's retreat; while the third, under General Cadwallader,was to cross lower down from Bristol over to Burlington. Had the plan been executed at all points it must have resulted in the capture of the whole line of British canton- ments, but owing to invincible obstacles it turned out but partially successful. The evening of Christmas day, for obvious reasons, was chosen as the most propitious for a surprise. It proved to be most bitter even for that incle- ment season, the cold so intense that two of the soldiers were frozen to death. The night was very obscure, it snowed and hailed incessantly, and the gloomy waters of the Delaware half choked with masses of ice, crashing against the distant rocks with a sound like thunder. But the worse the weather, it was so far better for the purpose, that the enemy would be lulled into deeper security. The soldiers were exhorted to redeem their previous failures, and reminded that the fate of their country depended upon their firmness and courage, and they marched down to the place of embarkation with a feeling of enthusiastic determination. Washington had expected that the passage of his division might have been effected by midnight, but the dreadful weather, the encumbered state of the river, and the difficulty of getting across the artillery, occasioned so much delay, that it was four o'clock before the whole body were in marching order on the opposite shore. The darkness of a winter morning was still further deepened by a heavy fog, and the road was rendered slippery by a frosty mist. As it would be daylight before they could reach Trenton, the main object of the enterprise seemed to be disconcerted; but there was now no alternative but to proceed. "Washington took the upper road, while Sullivan commanded the lower ; and about eight in the morning both parties encountered the pickets of the enemy, who keeping up a fire from behind the houses, fell back upon the town, and aroused their comrades. The Americans followed them up so closely, that they were able to open a battery at the end of the main street, before the drowsy Hessians could offer any effectual re- sistance. It is said, that on the morning of the surprise, Colonel Ralle, who had been carousing all night after an entertainment, was still engaged at cards, when a warning note, forwarded by a Tory who had discovered the approach of the Americans, was handed to him by the negro porter, as being of par- ticular importance. He thrust it into his pocket and continued the game, till aroused at length by the roll of the American drums and the sound HISTORY OF AMERICA. 413 of musketry, he started to his legs, hurried to his quarters, mounted his horse, chap. and in a few moments was at the head of his troops, vainly attempting to ■ — stem the progress of the Americans. In a few moments, he fell to the ground mortally wounded, and was carried away to his quarters. All order was now at an end ; the Germans, panic-struck, gave way, and endeavoured to escape by the road to Princeton ; but were intercepted by a party judi- ciously placed there for the purpose, and compelled to surrender at discre- tion, to the number of about a thousand men. Six cannon, a thousand stand of arms, and four colours adorned the triumph of Washington. In this mo- ment of brilliant success, purchased at the expense of others, he was not un- mindful of the duties of humanity ; but, accompanied by Greene, paid a visit to the dying Hessian leader, and soothed his passage to the grave by the ex- pression of that grateful and generous sympathy, which one brave man owes to another, even when engaged in opposite causes. Had Irwin been able to cross at Trenton ferry, and occupy the Assumpink bridge, the English light-horse must also have been cut off; but such was the accumulation of the floating ice at this particular point, that he had found it impossible to perform his portion of the plan, and thus the division above mentioned hurried across the Assumpink, in the direction of Bordentown, and escaped. The same obstacle prevented Cadwallader from crossing over to Burlington ; he succeeded indeed in landing a body of troops, but the state of the ice prevented the artillery from being got ashore ; and unable to pro- ceed without it, he was obliged to recross the Delaware. As considerable bodies of the English were at a short distance, and his troops were exhausted with fatigue and cold, Washington thought it prudent immediately to recross the river with his prisoners. The effect produced upon the drooping spirits of the Americans by this daring and successful achievement, especially in Philadelphia, was indescribable. On the alarming news of Washington's retreat from the Hudson, and the near approach of the British, Congress had thought prudent to leave the city and retire to Balti- more. The citizens, expecting to be shortly attacked, were in a state of great excitement — the partisans of the royal cause eager to witness its triumph by the capture of the city, while the friends of Congress were proportionally alarmed. To overawe the former, and encourage the latter, the Hessians were paraded with military pomp through the streets of the city, the people scarcely be- lieving their eyes, when they saw these dreaded foreigners defiling as cap- tives before them — trophies of the valour of that army which some had hoped, and others feared, was irrecoverably disgraced and broken. Nor were the English commanders less astonished and confounded, when they heard that • the enemy whom they had fondly believed to be crushed, had turned and routed his pursuers. They discovered that they had to do with a commander no less daring than he was cautious, whose steady determination no defeat could shake ; who, on one hand, was prepared to retreat, if needful, even to the fastnesses of the Alleghanies, and on the other, ready to take advantage of the least oversight on their own part, to convert defeat into victory. 414 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. Cornwallis, who was about to embark for . Europe, was immediately de- D V77 spatclied to take the command of the troops in New Jersey. On arriving there, he found that Washington had again crossed over to Trenton, and was pre- pared to act upon the offensive. It happened that the term of several regi- ments had expired, and the men were anxious to return to their homes, but by persuasion and a bounty, had been induced to remain in the service. The whole American force, now concentrated at Trenton, amounted however only to about four thousand men. Having obtained reinforcements at Brunswick, Cornwallis, with his usual celerity, pushed on to attack Washington, who, on his approach, retired into intrenchments behind the river Assumpink, the bridge and ford over which were carefully guarded. The whole day attempts were made, but in vain, to pass the stream, and a cannonade was kept up against the intrenchments. The following day, Cornwallis intended to storm the works, and should he, as was but too probable, succeed, the American army, with the Delaware behind them, must inevitably be captured. To abide his attack would therefore be an act of foolish temerity, while to attempt to recross the river in presence of his army would be still more hazardous. A council of war was called, at which the bold design was adopted of getting into the rear of the English, falling upon their magazines at Brunswick, and carrying the war again from the neighbourhood of Philadelphia into the mountainous interior of New Jersey. Not a moment was to be lost. The superfluous baggage was sent down the river to Burlington, the watch-fires were kept up, the patrols ordered to go their rounds, and, still further to deceive the enemy, parties sent out to labour at the intrenchments within hearing of their sentinels. About mid- night the army silently defiled from the camp, and marched off in a circuit- ous and difficult road towards Princeton. It was a brilliant winter morning when they drew near that town, and General Mercer was sent forward by a by-road to seize a bridge at Worth's mills, so as to cut off any fugitives, and also check any pursuit on the part of Cornwallis. Three British regiments, destined to reinforce the latter, had passed the night in Princeton, and two of them, the 17th and 40th, under Colonel Mawhood, had already set out, when they suddenly came in sigl.it of the approaching Americans, with whom they were almost immediately in action. The Americans, posted behind a fence, poured in a heavy and well-directed volley, after receiving which, the British, with fixed bayonets, charged them with such impetuosity, that abandoning their shelter they broke and fled pre- cipitately, closely pursued by their victorious enemies. Both fugitives and • pursuers, however, were suddenly arrested by the sight of the troops under Washington, who, beholding the rout, hastened on, colours in hand, to rally the discomfited Americans. At no time in his life, perhaps, was he exposed to more imminent hazard. The Americans immediately rallied, the English re-formed their line, both levelled their guns and prepared to fire, while Washington, whose ardour had hurried him forward into a most perilous pre- dicament, stood like a mark for the bullets of both. Fitzgerald, his aide- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 415 de-camp, dropped the reins upon his horse's neck, and shuddering, drew chap. his hat over his face, that he might not see his leader die. A tremendous — - — — •• volley was heard, then a shout of triumph, and when the trembling officer ventured to look up, the form of Washington was dimly seen amidst the rolling smoke, urging forward his men to attack the enemy. Fitzgerald burst into tears, and putting spurs to his horse, dashed after his beloved com- mander. The British, however, did not await the onset. Mawhood, already severely handled and seeing reinforcements about to come up, abandoned his artillery, wheeled off, and regaining the Trenton road, continued his march to join Cornwallis without any further molestation. "Washington now advanced to Princeton, encountering in his way the British 55th, which after a brave resistance, finding it impossible to follow the 17th, retreated in the direction of Brunswick, accompanied by the 40th, which had been but very partially engaged. On entering Princeton a part of this regiment was found to be in occupation of the college, who made some show of resistance, but on cannon being brought up, and the door of the building forced in, they were obliged to surrender themselves prisoners. In this battle the Americans had to deplore the loss of the gallant General Mercer, an officer much beloved by the army and Washington, with whom he had served in the American and French wars. Dismounting from his horse to rally his broken column, he was struck down by a blow from a musket, and the enemy, mistaking him for Washington, exclaimed, " The rebel general is taken ! " Several soldiers pushed forward, exclaiming, " Call for quarter, you d — d rebel." " I am no rebel," cried Mercer, endeavouring to defend himself with his sword ; upon which he was instantly pierced with several bayonets, and left, as the soldiers imagined, in the agonies of death. He was carried off the field to a neighbouring house, where he lingered for some days in extreme suffering. As soon as Washington received the news, he despatched a flag to Cornwallis by the hands of his nephew Captain Lewis, requesting that the latter might remain with the sinking hero till he died, a request which was immediately granted. His body was transported to Phila- delphia, and now reposes in the beautiful cemetery at Laurel Hill. Short time was given to Washington to profit by this success at Princeton. It is said that Lord Erskine had urged Cornwallis the evening before to attack the Americans at once, lest Washington should escape him in the night, but this he believed to be impossible. Next morning the distant sound of artil- lery, and the empty intrenchments in front of him, proved but too plainly that Erskine's prognostications were realized. The English general was in- stantly in motion, and as the Americans were ready to leave Princeton, was close upon their traces. Worn out with a night march and a hard- fought battle, famished with hunger, some barefoot and bleeding, and all miserably provided with necessaries, they were in no condition to await his approach. Aware that Cornwallis would immediately follow him, Washing- ton detached a party to break down the before-mentioned bridge at Worth's mills, and they had partly succeeded in demolishing it, when the British A. D. 1777. 416 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, came in sight. They instantly opened a fire upon the Americans, who had already loosened the planks, Major Kelley, their leader, continuing to cut away a log on which they rested, while the balls were whistling about his ears. At length it fell into the stream, and he with it, and was afterwards cap- tured, but the communication was effectually stopped for the present. Corn- wallis ordered his soldiers to ford the swollen waters, breast deep and filled with ice ; they obeyed, and advanced towards Trenton, but kept in check by a battery and the necessity of reconnoitring the enemy, were some time in reaching the town ; and when they did, they found that the American army had a second time escaped their clutches. Washington pushed on in the direction of the fugitive regiments, and when three miles north of Princeton, held a brief council on horseback with his officers. With an exhausted and inferior force, it would have been mad- ness to carry out their original design upon the British stores at Princeton, it was well indeed if they could even save the troops. Cornwallis was close upon their heels, they struck into a by-road, crossed the river at Kingston, and breaking down the bridge after them, retreated, as fast as their enfeebled condition would permit, towards the hilly country to the northward. Many dropped on the road from fatigue and fell asleep. They reached Pluckemin that evening, and on the following day retired still farther back to Morris- town, where Washington put his suffering troops into winter quarters. By a brilliant and successful movement, he had redeemed the inauspicious opening of the campaign, and by his mingled caution and daring, had acquired the title of " the American Fabius." n. CHAPTER II. PROCEEDINGS OP CONGRESS. — CAMPAIGN OP 1777. — BATTLE OF THE BRANDYWINE. — OCCUPATION OP PHILADELPHIA. — EXPEDITION AND SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. — BATTLE OP GERMANTOWN. — CONWAY CABAL. — WINTER ENCAMPMENT AT VALLEY FORGE. chap. To insure the triumph of the Americans, in the face of the most formidable obstacles, three things, it is evident, were indispensable — first, the patriotic zeal of the people ; secondly, the firmness and ability of Congress ; and thirdly, that rare union of noble qualities which adorned the commander-in- chief. It is hardly too much to say, that had any one of these conditions been wanting, the cause of the republic must inevitably have failed. Happily, the men who had assumed the helm of affairs at this momentous juncture, were fully equal to their task. Having in vain laboured to procure an honourable reconciliation with England, and taken the decisive measure A.D. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 417 of renouncing her supremacy, they had resolved that no temporary dis- chap. couragements should induce them to surrender their cause. Their spirits, on the contrary, rose with the emergency, their powers were called forth, and the energy and vigour of their counsels responded to the perils which threatened to overwhelm their country. One of their first difficulties was, besides organizing a standing army, to furnish money for its pay and support. There was but one expedient at their command, namely, the emissions of bills of credit ; and during the eighteen months which had elapsed since the breaking out of hostilities, they had authorized an issue of twenty millions of dollars. Besides this general bur- den, the different States had issued largely on private account ; and at length it became obvious, that a depreciation could no longer be prevented. Loan offices were accordingly opened in the different States, to borrow five millions of dollars, to be reimbursed in three years; but as this was far from meeting the difficulty, Congress were reluctantly obliged to resort to fresh issues. The depreciation continued to increase so rapidly, that a resolution was passed, declaring that their bills ought to pass current in all transactions for the same value in Spanish dollars, and that all persons refusing to take them as such, were to be deemed enemies of their country, and rendered liable to forfeitures and fines. Among the stringent powers devolved on Washington, was also the enforcing of this regulation. As the natural effect of these measures was to bring about a rise in prices, measures no less arbitrary, though justified by the necessity of the moment, were enacted, to fix the prices of all articles re- quired by the army, and even to compel the traders to furnish them when able, though unwilling, to do so. The pressure of the occasion also compelled Congress to seek for support from foreign powers. The position of Great Britain was at that time so proud and threatening, that all Europe felt jealous of her increasing influence, and secretly desired her humiliation. Especially did France, her hereditary enemy, stung by the recent loss of her Canada, labour to promote dissension between the Americans and their rulers. Franklin had observed, when at London, " that this intriguing nation would like to blow the coals of discord, but he hoped no occasion would be offered them." The case, however, was now widely different, and the secret offers of the French were eagerly re- sponded to by Congress. During November, 1775, at Philadelphia, they were told that a foreigner was desirous of obtaining a private conference. The application remained for some time unnoticed ; but at length a committee, consisting of John Jay, Jefferson, and Franklin, was appointed to receive his communications. The agent, an old French officer, told them that the king of France rejoiced at their exertions in the cause of liberty, that he wished them success, and when circumstances permitted, would openly espouse their cause. " Gentlemen," he said, " if you want arms, you shall have them ; if you want ammunition, you shall have it ; if you want money, you shall have it." Observing that these assurances were most important, the com- mittee then sought to obtain some more definite authority for them ; but this 3 H 418 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, the old agent evaded, by drawing his hand across his throat, with the ex- — — - pressive addition, " Gentlemen, I shall take care of my head ! " After this ' meeting he disappeared ; but the hint was not lost upon his auditors. It was evident that Louis, while anxious to promote the cause of the colonists, wished to avoid committing himself to a war with Great Britain, until it had been proved that their resolution was to be depended upon. ^Arthur Lee, who still remained at London, occupied in watching the move- ments of the English, entered into relations with the French ambassador, soon after the breaking out of hostilities. Through their contrivance, Ver- gennes, the French minister for foreign affairs, had sent Beaumarchais, the celebrated dramatist, to concert a plan for surreptitiously forwarding supplies of arms and stores to America, under the disguise of a fictitious trading firm. Shortly afterwards, Silas Deane was sent over to Paris, ostensibly as a private merchant, but in reality as political agent. Congress having at length re- solved upon a treaty with foreign powers, with whom their commercial rela- tions, no longer under the restrictions of dependency on Great Britain, were every day becoming more important, it was determined to appoint Franklin, Deane, and Jefferson, as commissioners to the French court. Jefferson being prevented from accepting the post, Lee was appointed his substitute. Frank- lin went over in the Reprisal, the first American frigate that had 2ver ap- peared on the shores of Europe, and was soon joined by Lee from London. Though not openly accredited by the French government, they were treated with distinction, and privately supplied with funds for the purchase of arms and military stores. Some of these were intercepted by the British cruisers, but others arrived at their destination, and were found to be a very seasonable relief. The scientific reputation, benevolent temper, and venerable appearance of Franklin, attracted genuine regard, and he became the object of universal attention. Much enthusiasm was awakened among the young and ardent in France, and throughout Europe, for the cause of the oppressed and gallant Americans, and many prepared to go over to their assistance, some merely military adventurers in quest of pay and promotion, but others animated by an enthusiastic love of freedom. Such was Thaddeus Kosciusko, of a noble Polish family, who had received a military education, and becoming ac- quainted with Franklin at Paris, went over to America with a recommenda- tion from him to General Washington. On his arrival he repaired to the commander-in-chief, who inquired his object. " I come," he said, " to fight as a volunteer for American independ- ence." " What can you do? " said Washington. " Try me," was the simple reply ; and the general, delighted with him, appointed him one of his aides. He afterwards obtained the grade of Colonel of Engineers, and rendered im- portant service in fortifying West Point, in the Hudson Highlands, where a monument has been erected to his memory. After the revolutionary war he returned to fight the battles of his own country, and was taken prisoner by the Russians. The emperor, eager to obtain the services of such a hero, offered him his own sword, which he returned with the saying, " I no longer need a HISTORY OF AMERICA. 419 sword, since I have no longer a country to defend." A no less illustrious c it a i*. volunteer was the youthful Marquis de La Fayette, afterwards so conspicu- ous and disinterested an actor in two successive revolutions. * Fired, at the age of nineteen, with the story of Ameri-can resistance to British oppression, he left a young wife to whom he was tenderly attached, and, spite of the prohibition of the French ministry, anxious to avoid openly assisting the Americans, he purchased a vessel, and, with a chosen body of military com- rades, reached America in safety, and presented his credentials to the Com- mittee of Foreign Affairs. Owing to the numerous applications for employ- ment, he received at first a very discouraging answer ; but when he expressed his desire to serve as a volunteer, and receive no pay, his claims were admitted, and he shortly afterwards received the grade of major-general. He was at once received into unrestrained intimacy by Washington, who desired him to consider the head-quarters as his home, and the friendship thus founded endured without interruption until death. The winter passed away at Morristown amidst considerable privation on the part of the American army, and anxious care and continual correspond- ence on the part of Washington. The recruiting made but slow progress, and the organization of the new army was a work of difficulty. There was a great deficiency of stores, and to crown all, the small pox broke out in the camp. It was imperatively necessary to stimulate the different States to the performance of their respective duties, and to reconcile the jarring claims of candidates for precedence. Many of the States had either sent in their con- tingents without making the necessary appointments, or had made them with so little judgment that their rectification became indispensable. It re- quired the utmost tact on the part of Washington to exercise the absolute powers invested in him, in such a manner as at once to strengthen the public service and conciliate the feelings of the numerous aspirants. Meanwhile the state of the country, and more especially of the seat of war, now became daily more distracted. When the British had triumphed in New Jersey, many, as before said, had taken the oaths of allegiance in the hope of escaping the miseries of civil war. They had been bitterly deceived in this expectation. The Hessians, it was found, overran the country like a con- quered province, plunder and outrages of the worst description became com- mon, female virtue was exposed to insult, and in these excesses but little dif- ference was made between friend and foe. It was not in the power of Howe altogether to repress this military licence on the part of his German allies, and it soon worked a powerful reaction in favour of the republican cause among those who had at first hesitated or refused to embrace it. Stung to madness by these outrages, the farmers combined with Washington's troops to harass the royal army, make prisoners of detached bodies, cut off their supplies, and to expel them from the open country, so that they were now little better than prisoners where they had so recently found themselves conquerors. Nor were the royal mercenaries alone to blame in this respect. Taking advantage of party excitement and the growing disorganization, many of Washington's 2 h 2 A. D. 1777. 4£0 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, troops indulged in similar licence at the expense of parties who had observed a peaceful neutrality, and "Washington had repeatedly to issue the most stringent ordeVs " against the infamous practice of plundering the inhabitants under pretence that they are Tories." Neutrality, however, was no longer possible. In reply to Howe's proclamation requiring allegiance to the king, Washington now issued a counter one, commanding " all persons who had re- ceived protections from the British commissioners, either to give them up and swear allegiance at all hazards to the United States, or in thirty days to withdraw themselves and their families within the enemy's lines." Ow- ing to thi3 arbitrary order, which excited murmurs from the New Jersey legislature, and which political necessity could alone justify, the neutral were forced to choose a side ; exposed, should they embrace the popular cause, to the outrages of the British, and if they preferred the British, to reprisals on the part of their own countrymen. Moreover, by a recommendation of Livingston, the state legislature of New Jersey decreed that the estates of all such refugees as did not return within a limited period, were to be confiscated. Thus were the most moderate compelled to become partisans, while mutual animosity was inflamed to the highest pitch. We are here called upon to distinguish a second time between that class of Tories, who from principle adhered, though passively, to the cause of the mother country, and were unwilling, till compelled, or ill-treated, to take part in the quarrel, and that more active body who, regarding the republicans as rebels, pursued them with the most implacable and vindictive animosity. It was by these men, rather than the British themselves, that the prisoners in New York, shut up in convict ships, were treated with the most unfeeling cruelty, against which Washington felt it to be his duty to protest, and in which Howe strenuously denied any wilful participation. The most indefatigable of the latter class was Tryon, the governor of New York, who had been appointed major-general in the British service. As soon as the spring was sufficiently advanced, he was intrusted with an expe- dition to Danbury, an inland town in Connecticut, to destroy a quantity of provisions which had been there collected for the use of the American army. Landing between Fairfield and Norwalk, he reached the place without op- position, and succeeded in entirely effecting his object, after which he endea- voured to make good his retreat. General Wooster however intercepted him with a corps of militia, and while encouraging his men, in a narrow pass, " not to mind the random firing of the enemy," fell mortally wounded with a chance bullet. Here was another opportunity for the impetuous Arnold, who happened to be in the neighbourhood, and repairing to the scene of action, blockaded the road, and with two hundred men confronted for a quarter of an hour as many thousand, till his horse was shot dead under him. The Americans, seeing their leader fallen, took to their heels, and a Tory rushing up to the prostrate Arnold with his bayonet exclaimed, " Surren- der ! you are my prisoner." " Not yet," exclaimed Arnold, as he started to his feet, shot dead his assailant, escaped amidst a shower of bullets, and HISTORY OF AMERICA. 421 hurried forward to animate another bcdy of militia by his example. In so doing, c ha p. a second horse was shot under him, but Tryon with difficulty succeeded in get- — - — — ting back to his ships. The gallantry of Arnold was justly appreciated, and a horse, handsomely caparisoned, was presented to him by order of Congress. If "Washington at this period had to struggle with complicated difficulties, neither was the British general exempt from them. He had been unable to terminate the war in a single campaign, and his requisitions to the ministry at home for reinforcements were but tardily responded to. The ministers had all along laboured under an illusion, that the partisans of the royal cause were far more numerous and influential than they proved to be, and would enlist in considerable numbers. The vigorous measures of Congress had however intimidated them, and but few came forward and enrolled them- selves in the ranks. Supplies too of all kinds, in a hostile country, must be derived from England at vast expense and with very considerable delay. Owing to these difficulties, Howe had been compelled to remain almost inac- tive, and to contract his operations until further succour should arrive. All that he was able to accomplish was the sending out one or two expeditions to destroy the American stores. Of these a considerable quantity had been accumulated at Peekskill, a vil- lage situated on the Hudson river, just at the entrance of the romantic High- lands, which had been diligently fortified by Washington, and as a post of great importance defended by a detachment from the American army. As the command of the river was open to the English, they were enabled to suc- ceed in their enterprise without much difficulty ; and a considerable quantity of stores and ammunition fell into their hands. The Americans reciprocated by seizing a quantity of provisions deposited by the British at Sagg Har- bour, on Long Island, confided to the charge of a schooner with twelve guns and a single company of infantry. This gallant exploit was successfully performed by Lieut.-Col. Meigs, at the head of a body of Connecticut recruits. These mutual annoyances, together with desultory skirmishes at the outposts, ushered in the momentous campaign of the year 1777. But before commencing its narration, we should not omit to notice a cor- respondence between Washington and Congress, which strikingly displays both his prudence and humanity. Upon the capture of General Lee, Howe persisted in regarding that officer as a deserter from the king's service, al- though he had resigned his commission before joining the Americans, and on this ground subjected him to an unusual rigour of treatment. Congress de- termined to retort by inflicting similar treatment upon their British and Hes- sian prisoners. Against a system so unwise, as well as unjust, Washington did not fail to remonstrate earnestly. " In point of policy, he observed, under the present situation of our affairs, this doctrine cannot be supported. The balance of prisoners is greatly against us, and a general regard to the happi- ness of the whole should mark our conduct. Can we imagine, that our ene- mies will not mete the same punishments, the same indignities, the same cruelties, to those belonging to us in their possession, that we impose on theirs 422 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c *\* p * m our power ? Why should we suppose them to possess more humanity than Ai D 1777 we have ourselves ? Or why should an ineffectual attempt to relieve the dis- tresses of one brave unfortunate man, involve many more in the same calam- ities ? " While thus opposing the vindictive policy of Congress, he did not fail to remonstrate against the inhuman treatment of the American prisoners. Many of these, when released upon exchange from the crowded and loath- some jails of New York, could scarcely stand from debility, and died soon after, in consequence of their cruel sufferings. Washington refused to ren- der back an equal number of able-bodied British and Hessians for these martyrs to their country's cause, respecting whom he observed, " that though they could not, from their wretched situation, be deemed proper for an ex- change, yet humanity required that they should be permitted to return to their countrymen." The spring was far advanced before Howe was in a position to open the campaign, and Washington, from his camp at Morristown, anxiously watched for the first movements of the enemy. It was known that General Burgoyne had assumed the command in Canada, but as yet his intentions were unde- veloped. A quantity of vessels and pontoons, it was ascertained, was also provided at New York, apparently for an impending attack upon Philadelphia. In order to cover that city, Washington now moved down to a strong camp at Middlebrook, with an army increased to forty-three regiments, but so im- perfectly filled up that the number of troops was only about eight thousand. It was not till the middle of June that Howe marched out of New Bruns- wick, ostensibly to attack Philadelphia, but in reality, if possible, to draw Washington from his defences, and bring on a general engagement, which his opponent was equally anxious to avoid. With this view he artfully made a retrograde movement towards Amboy, which drew down Washington from the high ground as far as Quibbletown, when Howe, as suddenly turning round, endeavoured to cut him off from the hills ; but his wary adversary made good his retreat to Middlebrook. Foiled in this object, Howe retired to Staten Island to meditate a fresh attack. Information having reached the English general of Burgoyne's meditated expedition from Canada, of which we shall presently speak more fully, Sir Henry Clinton was left at New York, with four thousand men, in order to co-operate with him, while Howe embarked with the main body of his army, intending to attack Philadelphia in another direction. As Washington soon received authentic news that Burgoyne was advancing upon Ticonderoga, this movement of Howe's occasioned him the greatest perplexity. It was uncer- tain whether he meant to ascend the Hudson, and co-operate with Bur- goyne, to sail up the Delaware, or even to attack Boston. Supposing it was the first, Washington advanced towards the Highlands ; but when the ships had been, by his spies, reported steering to the southward, he directed his march towards Philadelphia. The fleet, however, instead of ascending the Delaware, had been seen sailing to the eastward, a movement which re- quired fresh attention ; finally, it was again descried to the southward, until A. D. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 423 it was the general impression that it was gone down to Charleston. During chap. these movements and counter-movements, Washington had repaired to Phila- delphia, where he had an interview with Congress, and had marched down his army to Germantown, in order to be ready for any casualty. It was not until the 22nd of August, that certain information came in that the British ships had entered the Chesapeake, and landed the troops at the head of Elk river, whence, as soon as his stores and baggage were landed, Howe directed his march upon Philadelphia. Although inferior even in numbers, and still more in the quality of his troops — some of whom indeed had already seen some service, but a consider- able portion were raw recruits, but lately arrived at the camp, Washington was well aware how great would be the public discouragement, were he, after all the efforts made by Congress to organize an ar,my, to retreat without offering bat- tle in defence of Philadelphia. He determined therefore to do so at all events. After some preliminary manoeuvring, the American army was drawn up on the heights above the Brandywine, a small river falling into the Delaware, near Wilmington, and which it was necessary that the enemy should pass, to continue their march on Philadelphia. The principal passage at Chad's Ford was defended by General Wayne, having under him Lincoln's division of militia ; and the rest of the army, commanded by Washington in person, ex- tended in a line above the river. On this occasion, the English general determined to put in practice the same ruse which had already been crowned with such signal success at the battle in Long Island, and strange to say, although foreseen by the enemy, it proved, through accidental circumstances, a second time decisive of victory. Accordingly, when advanced within seven miles of the field of battle, having divided his army into two columns, he sent forward one, under General Knyphausen, by the direct road to Chad's Ford, while the second, led by Cornwallis, and accompanied by himself, made a considerable circuit, for the purpose of crossing the river higher up at the Forks, where easily ford- able, and turning the right wing of the Americans. Washington, suspecting this movement, posted patrols to guard the fords and give notice of the ene- my's movements. While anxiously awaiting intelligence, the advanced posts of Knyphausen's division approached Chad's Ford, and were immediately at- tacked by General Maxwell, with a body of light troops. Though these were driven in, and much desultory skirmishing and noisy cannonading took place, with a view to distract the attention of the Americans, the German general still delayed the passage of the river, till he had ascertained that the other party, under Cornwallis, had first effected it. Patrol after patrol came in to Washington, with the most perplexing and contradictory statements. At first, they reported that a body of the enemy had been seen on their march to the Forks ; and Sullivan, who commanded the American right, was ordered to cross the river to intercept them. This intelligence was shortly after contradicted, and the movement countermanded. At last, about two o'clock, arrived undoubted news, that Cornwallis had 424 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C *ii A ? ' rea ^y crossed at the Forks, and was hastily coming down upon the American . ^ , ■ risrht flank. Sullivan was now immediately detached to meet him, while \. D. 1/ I 7. ° ... . . Greene's division, accompanied by Washington, took up a central position between Chad's Ford, still defended by Maxwell, and the advancing columns of Sullivan. No sooner had Cornwallis come up with this latter division, which, from the hurry occasioned by confused and conflicting accounts, had got but imper- fectly into line, than he attacked it with such irresistible impetuosity, that it speedily began to give way. Some of the older troops stood their ground manfully, till borne down by superior numbers ; but the new levies of militia soon broke and fled, in spite of all the efforts of their officers. Among the latter, Deborre, an old French general, was wounded in endeavouring to rally a brigade of Maryland troops, which proved the first to flinch. Being afterwards called to account by Congress, he retorted, that " he had used every exertion in his power, and if the Americans would run away, it was very hard to hold him accountable for it." The confusion spread along the line, which retired before their assailants, still rallying at certain points, and covered by Greene's division, which opened its ranks to receive the fugi- tives. Meanwhile, being assured by the cannonading that Howe's manoeuvre had proved successful, Knyphausen converted his feigned attack into a real one, passed the ford, drove in its defenders after a stout resistance, and by his advance completed the discomfiture of the Americans. Greene'? division still continued to cover the retreat, till darkness overspread the scene of conflict, and probably proved the salvation of the fugitive army. The British halted upon the field of battle, while the disorganized American battalions retreated to Chester, and thence fell back upon Philadelphia. This was indeed a severe blow, yet, firm in the moment of peril, Congress appeared to be nowise disconcerted, but laboured to put the best face upon the business. The victory was represented as being neither impoitant nor decisive ; and rewards were distributed to the most deserving officers. Count Pulaski, a noble Pole, who had displayed much gallantry at the head of the light-horse, was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, and received the command of the cavalry. Captain de Flury, who had a horse killed] under him, received another. La Fayette, who was disabled by a severe wound, came in for his share of applause. On the other hand, a rigid inquiry was also instituted into the conduct of Sullivan, who was, however, honourably acquitted. Foreseeing the necessity of speedily abandoning Philadelphia, Congress also removed the magazines and public stores, but still continued to protract their sittings, and maintain their authority to the latest moment. Finally — so far from showing any decline of confidence in Washington, they invested him with still more ample authority than before. He was empowered to seize upon all provisions needful for the sustenance of his army, paying for them in the public certificates ; and even to try by court martial, and im- mediately execute, all persons giving any assistance to the British, or furnish- ing them with provisions, arms, or stores. A supply of blankets, shoes, and A. D. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 425 clothing, was also required from the citizens of Philadelphia, before that city chap. passed into the enemy's hands. These stringent powers, often painful to insist upon, were considered to be of inevitable necessity in the face of an advancing British army, and with the knowledge of a numerous body of sympathizing Tories or hesitating neutrals. Neither did Washington, after so painful a reverse, exhibit any diminution of his serene self-confidence and persevering steadiness, although the repulse at the Brandywine was followed by fresh disasters. The very evening after the battle, a British party surprised M'Kinley, the president of the State, at Wilmington, and captured a vessel containing the public records and money. A more distressing casualty was the surprise of General Wayne, who had concealed his party in the woods, with a view of harassing the British rear ; this design being discovered by a Tory spy, Major-General Gray was despatched to cut him off, and making his way through the woods with silence and celer- ity, fell suddenly upon his camp with fixed bayonets, and, with the loss of only eight men, killed, wounded, or captured three hundred of the Americans. As soon as the remains of the army were refreshed and reorganized, Wash- ington marched out of Philadelphia, and encountering the advancing British, about twenty miles distant from the city, prepared to offer them battle for the second time. The outposts begun the engagement, when a violent storm of rain came on, which lasted a whole day and night, and prevented the con- tinuance of the conflict. He made another unfavourable attempt to stop the onward progress of the British army, who, having crossed the Schuylkill, divided into two bodies, Howe himself encamping with the main body at German town, while Cornwallis with a strong detachment entered Philadel- phia in triumph, where he was warmly received by the numerous partisans of the royal cause. On his approach, Congress retired into the interior of Penn- sylvania, first to Lancaster, and afterwards to Yorktown, where they remained until the evacuation of Philadelphia by the royal army. In this position let us leave Washington and his adversaries for the present. Among those acts, dictated by dire necessity, which particularly tended to exasperate the feelings of the republicans, was the system of pillage carried on for the supply of the royal forces. We have already noticed the destruc- tion of Bristol, in Narragansett Bay, by Admiral Wallace, on account of the inhabitants refusing to comply with his requisitions. That officer continued in Newport harbour levying contributions on the neighbourhood, until at length expelled by some batteries erected for that purpose. Other English cruisers came in from time to time with their prizes, but were compelled to retire into the open sea. From an early period in the war, the fitting out of priva- teers was actively carried on both here and in the other New England ports. These vessels occasioned such immense injury to English com merce that the rate of marine insurance rose enormously. They waylaid richly laden ships coming from the West Indies, and even ventured to infest the British coast ; carrying their prizes into the ports of Spain and Holland, and especially of France, where they found a welcome market. The losses 3 I 426 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, sustained by the British merchants in 1775 and 1776, were estimated at ■ — about a million sterling. The British reciprocated by inflicting all the injury ' in their power upon American commerce, which, removed from the restric- tions under which it formerly laboured, had now largely extended its field of operations. After the departure of the English ships, Rhode Island remained unmo- lested, until, on the 26th of December, the very same day when "Washington surprised the Hessians at Trenton, the English fleet under Sir Peter Parker, having on board the troops returning from the unsuccessful attack upon Charleston, made their appearance in Newport harbour. Two American frigates, and several privateers, narrowly succeeded in effecting their escape. The troops were unceremoniously quartered on the inhabitants, until Sir Henry Clinton marched with the greater part of them to New York, leaving the remainder under the command of General Prescott. The occupation of a hostile country, and the necessity of quartering troops and enforcing supplies from a reluctant people, always painful to an officer imbued with generous sentiments, ought, one would think, in this case to have been rendered still more so by the consideration, that both parties were of the same blood and religion. But regarding the citizens as rebels, more- over being naturally harsh, imperious, and unfeeling, General Prescott took advantage of their defenceless situation to inflict on them all sorts of petty tyranny. He would stop them in the streets, and command them to take off their hats, menacing and even striking them if they refused to do so. He threw men into prison upon mere suspicion, and treated their relatives with insult and cruelty. The inhabitants, groaning under the yoke of Prescott, at length determined to get rid of him. Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, embarking from Providence, with a few stanch confederates, in four whale boats, passed with muffled oars through the midst of some British ships, lying off the de- tached house in which Prescott was quartered, surprised the lieutenant, and made their way to the sleeping-room of the general. The door was locked, but a powerful negro who was with the party, making use of his head as a battering-ram, dashed it in at a single blow. The general was then seized, un- dressed as he was, swaddled in a cloak, and marched down to the boats, which reached the shores unchallenged with the prisoner. Prescott was kept in confinement till the following April, when he was exchanged for General Lee. He was afterwards restored to his command, and amply avenged him- self for his mortification by fresh acts of rapine and incendiarism. In the preceding August, during the absence of the main British army under Howe, General Sullivan made a sudden descent upon Staten Island, surprised two loyalist regiments, and carried off several papers of importance. These being communicated to Congress, led to the arrest of several of the lead- ing Quakers, who, with John Penn, the late governor, the same who had given testimony against the Stamp Act in parliament, and others who had conscien- tiously refused to swear allegiance to the new State government of Pennsyl- vania, were now subjected to confinement as a matter of political necessity. A.D. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 427 We must now turn to the north, and narrate the progress and issue of that c ha p. expedition under Burgoyne to which allusion has more than once been made. The fruitless efforts that Carleton had made in the preceding autumn to re- duce Ticonderoga, and the concentration of the American troops at that fort, have been already narrated. Not apprehending further attack in that direction, a portion of these regiments had been withdrawn to the assist- ance of Washington, and thus a comparatively small body were in gar- rison at Ticonderoga, when it was menaced with a sudden and formidable attack. During the progress of hostilities, it had been a favourite plan with the British ministry to cut off the New England States from correspondence with the central and southern, and thus, by preventing a free communication, sever as it were the link that bound together the rebellious and hydra-headed confederacy. In order to effect this, a large force was to be sent by way of the St. Lawrence and the lakes, which, after reducing Ticonderoga, was to cross the few miles of forest intervening between that fort and the Hudson, and take possession of Albany; while another body, ascending the river, and reducing the fortresses on the Highlands, would effect a junction with the first. This plan seemed the more plausible, inasmuch as it required no exten- sive march through the interior, but, except a short interval of fifteen miles, could be executed on both sides by water carriage alone. It had been par- ticularly pressed upon the attention of ministers by Lieutenant-General Burgoyne, whose knowledge of the country, and above all the importunity with which he besieged his patrons, at length procured him the desired ap- pointment. Burgoyne was a natural son of Lord Bingley, and had at an early period of his life been devoted to a military career, and honourably distin- guished himself in foreign service. He had obtained the rank of brigadier- general, had served in parliament, and become a privy councillor. He had witnessed, though without sharing, the battle of Bunker Hill, and after taking a prominent share in the expulsion of the Americans from Canada, returned to London to carry out his plans for promotion. Of his skill and courage there was ample evidence, and animated as he was by an ardent de- sire of success in this enterprise, the ministers thought that its command could not be intrusted to better hands. Sir Guy Carleton, indeed, as having displayed consummate conduct and prudence in the government of Canada, possessing a thorough knowledge of the Canadians and Indians, and enjoying a high reputation for magnanimity of character among the Americans them- selves, might perhaps have been more fitted in many respects than Burgoyne, had merit and fitness alone influenced the decision of ministers ; but then Carleton and his claims were at a distance, while Burgoyne and his impor- tunity were on the spot. He succeeded in his designs, however, only to prove more painfully the inconstancy of fortune, and the danger of indulging in that " Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other side." 3 i 2 CHAP. II. A D. 1777 428 HISTORY OF AMERICA. Early in May Burgoyne reached Quebec, where he devoted himself with intense activity to the completion of his preparations, a task in which he was warmly seconded by the generous Carleton, though the latter, finding himself by this new appointment now reduced to a mere civil functionary, felt called upon to resign his government. The regular troops destined for this expedi- tion consisted of about eight thousand men, including a body of rangers under Colonel St. Leger, destined for a separate expedition against Fort Stanwix, or Schuyler, in the Mohawk country. Burgoyne was admirably seconded by several able officers, both English and German, particularly Generals Fraser, Phillips, Powell, Hamilton, Major-General Baron Iteidesel, and Brigadier- General Specht. A large body of Canadian auxiliaries to act as pioneers and scouts was also attached to the service of the army. The policy of also engaging the Indians as allies had by this time become rather questionable, their actual services being outweighed by the trouble they occasioned, while, the cruelties they perpetrated upon their captives had reflected disgrace, often undeserved indeed, against their European or Ame- rican leaders. Indignant remonstrance had been made in England against the employment of these ferocious auxiliaries, but upon the plea, that unless employed in the royal cause they would be engaged by the Americans, the ministers had insisted upon it, though Carleton, and even Burgoyne himself, both of them men of humane dispositions, were strongly opposed to the mea- sure. As, however, the ministerial orders were positive, Carleton exerted his powerful influence, and a considerable body of Indian warriors were soon prevailed upon to embrace the royal cause. At length, every thing being ready, this fine army, so well officered, and for its numbers unequalled in appointments and artillery, ascended Lake Champlain towards Ticonderoga. At the falls of the Bouquet, a short distance from its shores, four hundred Indians, of the Algonquin, Ottawa, and Iro- quois tribes, accompanied by a Roman Catholic priest, were assembled to join the troops. Here Burgoyne encamped and gave them a war feast, and afterwards addressed the plumed chieftains in a speech, vainly intended at once to excite their military ardour and to restrain their savage cruelties. " Go forth," he said, " in the might of your valour, strike at the common enemies of Great Britain and America, disturbers of public order, peace, and happiness, destroyers of commerce, parricides of the state." He praised their perseverance and constancy, and patient endurance of privation, and artfully flattered them by saying, that in these respects they offered a model of imita- tion for his army. He then entreated of them, as the king's allies, to regu- late their own mode of warfare by that prescribed to their civilized brethren. " I positively forbid," he energetically said to them, " all bloodshed when you are not opposed in arms. Aged men, women, and children, must be held sacred from the knife and hatchet even in the time of actual conflict. You shall receive compensation for the prisoners you take, but you shall be called to account for scalps. In conformity and indulgence to your customs, which have affixed an idea of honour to such badges of victory, you shall be \iH\ ■ A. T>. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 429 allowed to take the scalps of the dead when killed by your fire and in fair chap. opposition, but on no account, or pretence, or subtlety, or prevarication, are they to be taken from the wounded or even the dying, and still less pardon- able, if possible, will it be held to kill men in that condition on purpose, and upon a supposition that this protection to the wounded would thereby be evaded." The warriors listened in respectful silence, and an old Iroquois chieftain gravely arose. " I stand up," he said, " in the name of all the tribes present, to assure our father that we have attentively listened to his discourse. We receive you as our father, because when you speak we hear the voice of our great father beyond the great lake. In proof of the sin- cerity of our professions, our whole villages able to go to war are come forth. The old and infirm, our infants and wives, alone remain at home. With one common assent we promise a constant obedience to all you have ordered and shall order, and may the Father of Days give you success." Such were the promises of the Indians, but those who knew their nature might have seen how little reliance was to be placed upon* them. The thirst of gold, and the thirst of blood, were the real motives that drew them forth from their forests ; when the former could no longer be gratified, their fidelity was at an end, and no human power could prevent them from the indulgence of the latter. While Burgoyne, on one hand, was engaged in this vain, though honour- able endeavour, he issued a proclamation to the " rebels," couched in the most bombastic and grandiloquent terms. He recapitulated their various crimes, reminded them of their oppressive treatment of the Tories, who, on account of their adherence to their principles, had been thrown into prison and deprived of their property, or forced to purchase tranquillity by taking oaths against which their consciences secretly revolted. He had come, he said, armed with irresistible power, to put down such outrages ; and while he promised protection to those who remained quiet, and payment to such as brought in supplies, he menaced all such as should be found daring enough to resist the terror of his arms, with penalties the most tremendous, especially with the bloody licence of those very savages he had so lately endeavoured to restrain. In this ill-judged manifesto, dictated no doubt by policy, Bur- goyne displayed consummate ignorance of the American, and especially the New England, character — far more likely to be nerved into increased hardihood and daring opposition, than terrified by such inhuman menaces. Accord- ingly, they hurled defiance in his teeth, and treated his vaunting proclamation with the most cutting sarcasm. Neither was it much better treated in England; it met with animadversion in parliament, became the subject of satirical parody, while its unlucky author received, in certain circles, the nickname of " General Swagger." Having put forth this manifesto, Burgoyne advanced to Crown Point, the defenders of which retired to Ticonderoga. The British army, advancing up Lake Champlain in three divisions, one on each shore, and the other by water, was soon before the walls of that fortress, which suggested the dis- astrous recollection of the ill-fated attack of Abercrombie, in which so many A.. D. 1777, 4:80 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. f their gallant countrymen had fruitlessly perished. The ships were an- chored out of gun-shot from the works, while the land defences were closely invested on every side. As Burgoyne's plans had been so lately developed, and great exertions had been required to oppose General Howe in New Jersey, little attention, com- paratively, had been paid to the northern army, or to the defence of Ticon- deroga. General Schuyler, who, as before said, had been superseded by Gates, had been restored to his original appointment, and taken very much at a disadvantage, found himself almost unable to bring forward a force equal to stay the progress of his formidable adversary. General St. Clair, an officer of Scottish birth, who had served under Wolfe, and embraced the cause of the Americans, was then within the walls of Ticonderoga, with a body of only two thousand men. The New England militia had been hastily summoned to the rescue, and the garrison might have been considerably increased, but for the deficiency of necessary stores. Perhaps, in a military point of view, it would have been wiser to have abandoned it altogether, but for the discouragement which such a measure would have produced on the public mind. The position of Ticonderoga, naturally strong both by land and water, had been carefully increased by art. Besides the principal fort, on the point of land commanding, on one hand, the narrow outlet, which, running up to Skenesborough, now Whitehall, forms the termination of Lake Champlain ; and on the other, the narrow space intervening between this body of water and Lake George ; there was also another, occupying a still stronger position, on a neighbouring eminence, called Mount Independence. These works, however, were still overlooked by loftier elevations, rugged and abrupt in outline, and covered with unbroken forests. One of these, in particular, so obviously commanded the fort, that it had been proposed by the besiegers to occupy it ; but the garrison was already too small to man the extensive lines, and all that St. Clair could do, was to hope that the difficulties of the ascent might deter the British commander from attempting to seize it ; and that he would prefer to attack the fort in front, where St. Clair would be enabled to offer a mot e successful resistance. But, on the morning of the 5th of July, as the rising sun lighted up the wooded summits of the mountains, the scarlet regimentals of the royal troops were suddenly descried by the astounded garrison upon the summit of the peak above ; and further examination disclosed a train of artillery, ready to open upon the works, which the British so completely commanded, that not a single movement of the defenders could escape their prying scru- tiny. The mountain had been reconnoitred by Lieutenant Twiss, the chief engineer, and under his direction, by the indefatigable labour of the troops, a road had been cut through the forests in a few hours, and a battery established, ready to thunder destruction on the fort. To this hill, whence they equally defied the Americans to dislodge them, or to evade their own attack, the English gave the name of "Mount Defiance;" while another . A. D. 1777, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 431 vantage ground, upon which General Fraser had established his corps, re- chap. ceived the appellation of " Mount Hope." At this alarming crisis, with the momentary expectation of attack, General St. Clair called a council of War, at which it was agreed, as the only means of saving the army, to evacuate the fort as soon as nightfall should enable them to do so unperceived. This resolution was concealed from the troops until the moment for action should arrive. At length, when the twilight had sufficiently closed in, the order was given to load two hundred batteaux, in which, covered by a convoy of five armed galleys, with the munitions and stores, thus to be conveyed up the narrow arm of the lake to Skenesborough, while the main body of the troops marched to the same spot by Castleton. A strong boom and bridge crossed this outlet of the lake to Fort Independence, which was in the command of the Americans, and thus they anticipated an undisturbed retreat by water. Every precaution was taken tu conceal their movements, not a light was shown, and a cannon- ade was artfully kept up in the direction of Fraser's encampment. Although it was a moonlight night, the distance of -the objects and the absence of fires prevented the movements of the Americans from being perceived ; and after much unavoidable delay and confusion, about three in the morning, St. Clair and the garrison filed out of the gates of Ticonderoga, and crossing the bridge unnoticed, conducted their steps to Hubbardton, flattering themselves that before morning dawned they should have stolen nearly a day's march on the unconscious enemy. At this moment, when all their operations seemed likely to be crowned with success, a sudden conflagration, kindled either by accident, or through the obstinacy of the commandant, burst forth on Mount Independence, and cast- ing its fiery glare over the lake, the forf, and the moantains, aroused the whole British camp, revealing at a glance all that was on foot, and striking confusion into the ranks of the fugitive republicans. Panic-stricken, they hastily continued their retreat to Hubbardton, whence the main body, under St. Clair, pushed forward for Castleton. The rear, under Colonel Warner, covering the re- treat, and giving time for any stragglers to come up, continued their hasty advance during the whole day, closely pursued by Fraser, who, at the first discovery of their escape, had hurried after them, General Reidesel and Colonel Breyman with the Germans bringing up the rear of the pursuit. Burgoyne himself, on board one of the vessels, was eager to follow and cap- ture the retreating batteaux, but was delayed for some hours, until, by the extraordinary efforts of the seamen and sappers, a passage was at length forced through the bridge and boom, when his flotilla passed through in full chase of the heavy-laden boats, upon which they rapidly gained ground. At the same time a body of troops was landed, in order, by a shorter passage, to de- stroy the enemy's works at Skenesborough, and prevent their escape. About three the British vessels came up with the American barges, captured some, and burned others, while, to prevent the rest from being of any service to their enemies, the Americans set them all on fire, and fell back upon Fort Anne, II. A. D. 1777. 4:32 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, further up the outlet, where Schuyler was concentrating such militia as he could muster to oppose to the advancing British. Meanwhile the latter, vigorously keeping up the pursuit, about five on the morning of the seventh overtook the American rear-guard, who, in op- position to St. Clair's orders, had lingered behind and posted themselves on strong ground in the vicinity of Hubbardton. Fraser's troops were little more than half the number opposed to him, but aware that Reidesel was close behind, and fearful lest his chase should give him the slip, he ordered an im- mediate attack. Warner opposed a vigorous resistance, but a large body of his militia retreated, and left him to sustain the combat alone, when the firing of Reidesel's advanced guard was heard, and shortly after his whole force, drums beating and colours flying, emerged from the shades of the forest; and part of his troops immediately effected a junction with the British line. Fraser now gave orders for a simultaneous advance with the bayonet, which was effected with such resistless impetuosity that the Americans broke and fled, sustaining a very serious loss. St. Clair, upon hearing the firing, endeavoured to send back some assistance, but the discouraged militia refused to return, and the American general had no alternative but to collect the wrecks of his army, and proceed to Fort Edward to effect a junction with Schuyler. Burgoyne lost not a moment in following up his success at Skenesborough, but despatched a regiment to effect the capture of Fort Anne, defended by a small party under the command of Colonel Long. This officer judiciously posted his troops in a narrow ravine through which his assailants were com- pelled to pass, and opened upon them so severe a fire in front, flank, and rear, that the British regiments, nearly surrounded, with difficulty escaped to a neighbouring hill, where the Americans attacked them anew with such vigour that they must have been utterly defeated, had not the ammunition of the assailants given out at this critical moment. No longer being able to fight, Long's troops fell back, and setting the fort on fire, also directed their retreat to the head-quarters at Fort Edward. Thus far the progress of Burgoyne had been extraordinary, no campaign was ever opened in a more dashing, brilliant, and successful style. In a few daysj and with hardly any loss, he had compelled his adversary to evacu- ate Ticonderoga, had captured upwards of a hundred pieces of artillery, de- stroyed great part of his provisions and stores, routed the rear of his flying army, driven the feeble remainder before him, dispirited and almost starving, and struck terror into the whole surrounding region. Had he been able in- stantly to press forward across the sixteen miles of forest that intervened be - tween Skenesborough and the Hudson, before the panic had subsided, or Schuyler had found time to interpose any obstacles to his advance, or any assistance could have been sent by Congress, he would have entirely succeed- ed in the object of his expedition. But he was detained some time waiting for his baggage, and that time was turned to momentous account by Schuyler. That officer, and General St. Clair, when the news of these disastrous events reached Congress, were overwhelmed with unmerited reproaches. In- A.D. 177*. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 433 stead of attributing the misfortune to the deficiency of men and supplies, it c h a p. was at once assumed that nothing but the total want of military conduct, and perhaps treachery into the bargain, could possibly have occasioned it. " We shall never be able to defend a post," privately wrote John Adams, now President of the Board of War, " till we shoot a general," — a most unge- nerous hint. Even Washington himself, temperate and candid in his judg- ment, was so painfully affected, that he confessed himself at a loss to compre- hend how such misfortunes could have happened. But he overruled a hasty resolution of Congress, who talked of recalling the northern officers, and in- stituting an inquiry into their conduct. Schuyler therefore, happily for his country, was allowed to continue in her service, but through the influence of the New England members in Congress Gates was a second time promoted to the chief command. Washington, who had declined personally to displace Schuyler, suggested that Arnold should also be sent to the scene of action, in the hope that his sanguine temper and daring courage might reanimate the dispirited army. Two brigades were also despatched from the Highlands, and General Lincoln, a great favourite with the New Englanders, whose pre- judices against Schuyler were inveterate, was sent to assume their command. While thus exposed to detraction and suspected of treachery, that officer, whose magnanimity of character, akin to Washington's, was proof against all attack, was using every means to counteract the influence of Burgoyne, and to impede his further advance. The English general, taking advantage of the triumph of his arms, had issued another manifesto, calling upon the Americans to return to their allegiance. Schuyler retorted by a spirited counter -proclamation. But, aware that the great object was to gain time un- til assistance could arrive, he laboured incessantly to render the short interval betwixt himself and his adversary all but impassable. He declared his in- tention " to dispute every inch of ground with General Burgoyne, and retard his descent into the country as long as possible." With this view, extra- ordinary pains were taken to sink obstructions in Wood Creek, up which stream the English batteaux must pass to convey provisions towards the Hudson. But his principal efforts were directed to blockading the road, a single line of cutting through a region of unbroken forest. He destroyed upwards of fifty bridges over the torrents and swamps, with which it was provided. Where it was so hemmed in by natural obstacles, that no side passage was practicable, he caused huge trees to be felled and thrown across it with their branches interlocking, which must be removed with infinite toil and difficulty before the enemy could effect a passage. All the cattle was driven off from the vicinity of the route. To one who attentively looks into the details of the war, these impediments thrown into the way of Burgoyne, will appear to be at the root of all his sub- sequent difficulties, and Schuyler may thus fairly take the credit of having paved the way for the success of Gates. Burgoyne has been blamed for the slowness of his movements, but in the present instance it was evidently com- pulsory. He was afterwards criticised for not having at this junction, instead 3 K A. D. 1777. 434 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, of consuming much time by forcing his way from Skenesborough to Fort Edward, retraced his steps by water to Ticonderoga and up Lake George, and from thence directed his march upon the Hudson. He appears to have well justified himself, by contending that a movement apparently retrograde would have had the worst moral effect in the height of success ; and, more- over, that the Americans would not have failed to have opposed him on that route also, whereas by his present movement they had been compelled to give up Fort George and to leave the road open to his supplies. However this may be, the progress of his army, from Skenesborough to the Hudson, was excessively slow and toilsome. The soldiers, heavily laden as they were, had to clear the encumbered road and to rebuild the bridges ; a mile a day was as much as they could accomplish with their utmost efforts. It was not till the end of July that they emerged from the forests, and, with transports of delight, saw before them the beautiful river Hudson, the term, as they fondly supposed, of all their anxieties, and which they had nothing to do but to descend, driving the Americans before them, till Albany fell into their hands ; and by effecting a junction with Clinton, accomplish the objects of the expedition. As the British army advanced, increased by accessions from the Tories, who counted upon a signal triumph, the terrified inhabitants abandoned their comfortable homesteads and waving harvests, now ripe for the sickle, and fled from the path of the invader. Fort Edward being untenable, Schuyler, on the approach of his enemy, evacuated it, and retired down the Hudson as far as Cohoes Falls, at its junction with the Mohawk, where he fortified some islands, and in this strong position, with his head-quarters at Still- water, awaited the arrival of Burgoyne. In the mean time, he used the most indefatigable exertion to induce the neighbouring militia to repair to his assistance ; his wealth and private influence contributed to his success, and matters around him were beginning to assume a hopeful aspect, when there arrived the news of fresh misfortunes. There was a small fort, named after himself, Fort Schuyler, upon the Upper Mohawk, a military out-post in this direction, and commanding the whole valley of the river, down to its junction with the Fludson. This dis- trict, called Tryon county, was the same formerly occupied by the famous Sir William Johnson, already mentioned ; and when the revolution broke out, his nephew, Guy Johnson, a stanch royalist, was still the most influential person in the neighbourhood. A Mohawk sachem, called Brant, was the fast friend and ally of Johnson. By the eventual predominance of the repub- lican influence, Johnson was at length obliged to fly, with a large body of his partisans, to Canada, where his men were formed into a legiment, called the " Johnson Greens," and destined by Burgoyne, in concert with a company of English troops, and a body of Indian allies, under Brant, to effect the re- duction of Fort Schuyler, garrisoned at that time by seven hundred men, under Colonel Gansevoort, including a regiment commanded by Colonel Willett. The command of this expedition was given to Lieutenant-Colonel HISTORY OF AMERICA. 435 St. Leger, who after reducing the place, and thereby exciting a Tory chap. insurrection, was to descend the valley, and effect a junction with Bur- ■ goyne. As soon as the English had invested the fort, General Herkimer assem- bled the republican militia, and proceeded to the relief of the garrison, who were at the same time directed to make a sortie and throw the besiegers into confusion, of which movement notice was to be given by a signal gun. Herkimer, not having heard the signal, and aware that the enemy were in force, was unwilling to precipitate his march; but the militia, eager to press forward, began to reproach their leader with cowardice, and to insinuate that he was also a Tory. Stung with these reproaches, and warn- ing them that those who were now most eager to fight, would be the first to run away, he gave the word to advance. He had not proceeded far. before, in passing a hollow ravine near Oriskany, his men fell into an am- buscade, consisting of Brant's Indians and the Johnson Greens, placed there by St. Leger, for the purpose of cutting him off. The vanguard, as had been prophesied, turned and fled, but the brave Herkimer continued to main- tain a desperate resistance, until he was mortally wounded and carried off the field. The encounter, which proved to be peculiarly ferocious and san- guinary, was suspended a while by a tremendous storm; this had no sooner cleared off, than the signal gun was heard, giving notice of the sortie by Willett, which proved entirely successful. The combat now raged afresh, until the Tories fled the field ; but the republicans had suffered too severely to realize the original design of forcing their way through the lines, and re- lieving the garrison. St. Leger, now confident of success, sent a messenger to Burgoyne, inform- ing him that the fort could not hold out much longer. He issued a sum- mons to surrender, in the same pompous style as Burgoyne's proclamation, with precisely similar results. An officer was then sent with a flag, and blind- folded, through the works, and introduced, in a lighted apartment, into the presence of Gansevoort and Willett, with other officers. He assured them that Albany was already in the hands of the English, that the fort must ine- vitably be taken, and hinted that he already found it very difficult to restrain the savage ferocity of the Indians. Willett, with the sanction of his superior, replied with spirit, " You come from a British colonel to the commander of the garrison, to tell him that if he does not deliver it up into the hands of your colonel, he will send his Indians to murder our women and children. You will please to reflect, sir, that their blood will be upon your heads, not upon ours. We are doing our duty, this garrison is committed to our charge, and we will take care of it. After you get out of this, you may turn round and look at its outside, but never expect to get in again until you come a prisoner. I consider the message you have brought a degrading one for a British officer to send, and by no means reputable for a British officer to carry." Thus foile'd, St. Leger sent a formal summons to surrender, which Gansevoort met with a peremptory refusal. As no direct impression could S k 2 436 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, "be made upon the fort, the besiegers were obliged to approach by sap— a pro- — D ]777 cess necessarily tedious. It was now of the last necessity to communicate their situation to Schuyler. Colonel Willett, accompanied by Lieutenant Stockwell, taking advantage of a dark and stormy night, stole out of the fort on their hands and knees, crossed the river, and eluding the patrols of the British, and the still more dangerous vicinity of the Indians at length reached the American camp in safety, and disclosed the perilous situation of the besieged. Schuyler, aware of the vast importance of maintaining this post, declared his intention of sending off reinforcements, but what was his chagrin at hearing it whispered among his officers, that he intended, no doubt with treacherous views, to weaken the army, then almost in presence of that of Burgoyne. Suppressing with difficulty his indignation, he asked which of the generals would undertake the task of relieving the fort, and Arnold immediately pre- sented himself. But that officer, fearing that the force which Schuyler would venture to detach was insufficient, determined to resort to stratagem. Among the Tory prisoners was one Hon Yost Schuyler, who had been condemned to death, but whom Arnold agreed to spare on consideration of his implicitly carrying out his plan. Accordingly, Hon Yost, having made several holes in his coat to imitate bullet-shots, rushed breathless among the Indian allies of St. Leger, and informed them that he had just escaped in a battle with the Americans, who were advancing on them with the utmost celerity. While pointing to his gaberdine for proof of his statement, a Sachem, also in the plot, came in and confirmed the intelligence. The Indians, already disgusted and discontented with the slow progress of the siege, prepared for flight, nor could all the entreaties of St. Leger prevail on them to delay an instant. Thus, aban- doned by his allies, and with a mere handful of men, the English colonel was himself obliged to fly, amidst a scene of recrimination and panic. The road was almost impassable, all order was at an end, and the Indians indemnified themselves for their disgust by killing and plundering the stragglers, and it was with infinite difficulty that the remainder succeeded in regaining Canada. Thus, by this extraordinary " ruse " of Arnold's, the affair, at first so pro- mising to the English, took at last a totally different turn. Hitherto, notwithstanding the delay to which he had been subjected, the progress of Burgoyne to the Hudson had been uninterruptedly fortunate, but now the scene was suddenly reversed. The loss of time had entailed a proportionable consumption of provisions ; none could be drawn from the surrounding country, and he was obliged to obtain the whole of his stores from Lake George. The distance was short, but the road was abominable, and with the utmost efforts that could be made, it was now nearly the middle of August, and the army had but four days' provisions in advance. This de- lay, which was becoming intolerable, induced him, contrary to the advice of his most experienced officers, to attempt a coup de main, the failure of which proved the turning point of his fortunes, and gave a disastrous character to the rest of the campaign. ad. i; HISTORY OF AMERICA. 437 At Bennington, a village about twenty miles from the Hudson, the Ameri- chap. cans had collected a great quantity of provisions, cattle, and horses, the cap- ture of which would not only be of the greatest service to his army, but prove equally disastrous to the enemy. Skene, a leading Tory, then in Burgoyne's camp, with a considerable number of his confederates, asserted that the neighbourhood abounded in loyalists, who, five to one of the republicans, would not fail to flock to his standard, and do all in their power to in- sure the success of the enterprise. Burgoyne, therefore, detached Colonel Baum, an able and experienced officer, with eight hundred of General Reid- esel's dragoons on foot, a body of Canadian and Indian allies, and finally, Skene and his loyalists, to effect this important service. He was instructed to mount the dragoons, try the affections of the country, complete the corps of loyalists, and send back large supplies of cattle, horses, and carriages. He was then to scour the country, terrify the enemy, and finally effect a junction with the main army at Albany, where Burgoyne confidently declared he ex- pected to eat his Christmas dinner. Meanwhile, the eastern States had begun to recover from the panic in which they were thrown at first by the successes of the royal army, and had taken vigorous measures to oppose its further progress. Langdon, speaker of the New Hampshire assembly, in particular, had animated the spirits of his fellow-citizens by a noble display of patriotism. " I have," he said, " three thousand dollars in hard money ; I will pledge my plate for three thousand more. I have seventy hogsheads of Tobago rum, which shall be sold for the most it will bring. These are at the service of the State. If we succeed in defending our fire-sides and homes I may be remunerated ; if we do not, the property will be of no value to me. Our old friend Stark, who so nobly sustained the honour of our State at Bunker Hill, may be safely intrusted with the conduct of the enterprise." This officer, disgusted with being superseded by juniors, had left the service of Congress ; — at the com- mand of his native State, he now returned to it, invested however with an independent command. On repairing to Manchester, twenty miles north of Bennington, where Colonel Warner was then recruiting the regiments that had been worsted in the battle of Hubbardton, Stark fell in with General Lincoln, who ordered him to join Schuyler, which however he flatly refused to do. No doubt he thus rendered himself guilty of a breach of discipline, which reported to Congress, elicited an expression of their displeasure ; but before it could arrive, Stark, by his fortunate insubordination, converted it into a vote of thanks. On the 13th of August Baum left the British camp, and on the same day Stark arrived at Bennington. The progress of the German troops, at first tolerably prosperous, was soon impeded by the state of the roads and the weather, and as soon as Stark heard of their approach he hurried off expresses to Warner to join him, who set off in the course of the night. After send- ing forward Colonel Gregg to reconnoitre the enemy, he advanced to the rencontre of Baum, who finding the country thus rising around him, halted 438 HISTORY OF AMERICA. ci' \ p and intrenched himself in a strong position above the Walloomscoik river, and ." — sent off an express to Burgoyne, who instantly despatched Lieutenant-Colonel ' Breyman with a strong reinforcement. During the fifteenth, the rain prevented any serious movement. The Ger- mans and English continued to labour at their intrenchments, upon which they had mounted two pieces of artillery. The following day was bright and sunny, and early in the morning Stark sent forward two columns to storm the intrenchments at different points, and when the firing had commenced, threw himself on horseback and advanced with the rest of his troops. As soon as the enemy's columns were seen forming on the hill-side, he ex- claimed, " See, men ! there are the red-coats ; we beat to-day, or Sally Stark's a widow." The militia replied to this appeal by a tremendous shout; and, in fine, such was the vigour with which the dragoons, soon left to stand the brunt of the encounter, were attacked, that after two hours' desperate struggle with a superior force, during which the firing, as Stark said, " was one continued clap of thunder," they abandoned their intrench- ments and fled in disorder towards the river Hudson. The sound of musketry struck upon the ears of Breyman and his division, who hurried forward to the assistance of their countrymen. An hour or two earlier, and they might have given a different turn to the affair, but the heavy rain had delayed their progress. They met and rallied the fugitives, and re- turned to the field of battle. Stark's troops, who were engaged in plunder, were taken by surprise, and the victory might after all have been wrested from their grasp, but for the opportune arrival of Warner's division at the critical moment. The Germans, overwhelmed with numbers, at length aban- doned their baggage and fled. Colonel Baum, their brave commander, was killed. Nearly nine hundred and fifty, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, were lost to the British army by this untoward reverse. On this occasion the militia behaved with extraordinary spirit, displaying the same courage and determination in attacking a post as at Bunker Hill they had evinced in defending one. The patriotic devotion manifested by the people, was unsurpassed by the brightest examples of antiquity. One old man had five sons in the engagement, and on being. told that one of them was unfortunate, exclaimed, " What ! has he misbehaved ? Did he desert his post or shrink from the charge ? " " Worse than that," replied his informant. " He was slain, but he was fighting nobly." " Then I am satisfied," said the old man, "bring him to me." When the body of his son was brought in, the aged father wiped the blood from the wound, and said, while a tear glistened in his eyes, " This is the happiest day of my life, to know that my five sons fought bravely for freedom, though one has fallen in the conflict." How vain, should tales like these have reached the British ministers, must ha-ve appeared the attempt to quell such a people by an appeal to arms ! The moral effect of this victory, after the panic and depression caused by Burgoyne's continued successes, was immense. The militia came forward cheerfully, and instead of shrinking from the idea of meeting the British, desired I A. D. 1777, HISTORY OF AMERICA. 439 to be led against them. By this means, and by the arrival of the troops sent chap. from the Highlands, the American army was increasing every day. It was at this moment, when the clouds began to lift, and a cheering ray burst forth on the hitherto discouraged provincials, that Schuyler, whose steady perseverance had prepared the change, was superseded by Gates, who, as already stated, had, by the intrigues of the New England delegates in Con- gress, been unjustly appointed in his place. The new commander found matters all ready to his hand. An army already outnumbering that of the British, was animated with an enthusiasm created by recent victory. The bril- liant, impetuous Arnold, was already at the camp, after his recent doings at Fort Schuyler. On the following day arrived Morgan, with his practised and daring riflemen. Schuyler himself was also there, remitting nothing of his activity, though removed from the chief command. Though feeling, to the bottom of his soul, the bitter indignity by which his zealous services had been repaid by Congress, he rose superior to all selfish considerations. He therefore received Gates with perfect courtesy, and said to him, — " I have done all that could be done, as far as the means were in my power, to inspire confidence in the soldiers of our own army, and I flatter myself with some success, but the palm of victory is denied me, and it is left to you, General, to reap the fruits of my labours. I will not fail, however, to second your views, and my devotion to my country will cause me with alacrity to obey all your orders." Almost the first task that devolved upon Gates, was a correspondence with Burgoyne on the subject of a recent incident, which had struck both armies, and all the country round, with feelings of the liveliest horror, and which was cited, far and wide, with lively indignation at the British policy of employing the savage Indians as allies. Notwithstanding all the efforts of Burgoyne and his officers to restrain their propensities, instances of cruelty had already oc- curred ; even the loyalists themselves were alarmed at the keen thirst for blood and plunder which too often confounded friend with foe. The present occa- sion was peculiarly painful. A young lady named Jenny M'Crea, who resided with her brother, who was a republican, near Fort Edward, had a lover in the British camp, in the person of a young officer named Jones. She was awaiting his arrival, as it was said, at the house of a Mrs. McNeil, when a party of Burgoyne's Indians burst into the house, killed and scalped her, the other effecting her escape. This incident occasioned an indignant and rather over- wrought remonstrance from the American commander, and Burgoyne, much distressed, ordered an inquiry to be instituted. It was at first supposed that Jones had sent the two Indians to bring the young lady in safety to the Brit- ish camp, fearing lest her brother should carry her off, that they quarrelled about the reward, and in a fit of fury murdered its subject. The young officer, however, who never recovered from the shock occasioned by the loss of his betrothed, denied all knowledge of such a plan, and the real truth, brought to light by the inquiries of the clever author of the " Field Book of the Revolu- tion,* seems to be singularly different from the ordinary version. According to his account, when the Indians burst into the house and carried off the two 410 HISTORY OF AMERICA. C II A P. II. women, the alarm was speedily given by a runaway, and a party of Americans IldTiw. were sent * n Pursuit of the marauders. They fired, and shot Miss M'Crea ; and the savages, unable to convey her alive to the British camp, took off her scalp as an evidence of their intended capture. When we bear in mind Bur- goyne's express declaration that he would punish any Indian who scalped an unresisting enemy, this tale, related by the surviving fugitive herself, now a very old woman, seems far more conformable with truth. To the excited state of the public mind, however, the darkest version was the most congenial, and being speedily propagated over the whole country, inspired the deepest detestation of an enemy who could employ, or even tolerate, such barbarous and bloody auxiliaries. While the ardour of the Americans was perpetually on the increase, the failure of St. Leger's attack upon Fort Schuyler, and the defection of the Indians, with the disastrous affair at Bennington, spread, on the other hand, like a cloud over the spirits of the British army, so lately excited with the sanguine expectation of triumph. The slow and toilsome rate at which their stores were conveyed from Lake George, compelled them to remain inactive in front of an enemy every hour increasing in numbers and spirit. The Indian allies, disgusted with this tedium, and with the restraint imposed upon them, rapidly fell off, some of them, indeed, even joining the Americans. Many of the Canadians and loyalists speedily followed their ex- ample. The Americans too had made a vigorous attempt to cut off the com- munication with Canada. General Lincoln, with a body of militia, after sur- prising the posts on Lake George, had seized Fort Hope and Fort Defiance, and endeavoured, though in vain, to recapture Ticonderoga. Nothing what- ever had been heard of the intended advance of Clinton up the Hudson. In view of all these circumstances, there were not a few among the British officers who hinted to their commander that it might be more prudent to retire upon the Lakes, or even upon Canada, than to advance into a position from which it would be ruinous, if not impossible, to retreat. Though Burgoyne could not be insensible to the perils so obviously thick- ening around him, both personal honour, and the express instructions of ministers, left him no alternative but to push on. Although no news of Clin- ton had been received, yet, as the co-operation of that general formed part of the original plan, it was hardly to be imagined he could have neglected to do so, and every day might bring the welcome intelligence of his approach. With- out calling, therefore, any further councils, which might disturb his resolution by their ominous forebodings, Burgoyne assumed the entire responsibility of his movements, and having with great labour collected a supply of provisions for thirty days, he determined to advance, and clear the way before him to Albany. It was now past the middle of September, the finest season in America, and the scene of hostilities was admirably fitted to display its beauties. The river Hudson in this part of its course, less majestic than below, yet still too broad and deep to be forded, flowed through a valley bordered by a chain of hills, A. D. 1777. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 441 intersected with numerous ravines, and covered with woods now. dyed in the chap most gorgeous autumnal colouring in the world. The continuity of the virgin forest was broken by a few farms, with their cleared fields, and a narrow strip of meadow land intervened between the river and the hills. By the advice of Kosciusko, Gates had formed an intrenched camp upon these hills at a spot above the river, called Bemis's Heights, occupied by his right, under his own command. The flat below, along which Burgoyne's artillery must pass, was protected by a trench and battery, which served also to defend a floating bridge. The left, under Arnold, extended along the wooded heights about three quarters of a mile back from the river, and was covered by batteries and redoubts. In this strong position the American commander confidently awaited the enemy. As soon as he had resolved to advance, Burgoyne threw a bridge across the Hudson and crossed with his army, from the eastern to the western side of the river, along which lay the direct road to Albany. Hence proceeding but slowly, on account of the badness of the road, he encamped on the 18th at Wilbur's Basin, about two miles from the American camp, which he pre- pared to attack upon the morrow. The morning was soft and brilliant, and at an early hour the British columns were seen by the American pickets forming for battle, amidst the irregular openings of the forest, in a line nearly parallel with that of their own army. The heavy artillery, under Phillips and Reidesel, forming the left wing, moved slowly along the river-side, while Burgoyne and Fraser ad- vanced over the irregular hills at the head of the centre and right. One or two broken ravines interposed between the opposite lines, and it was the design of these officers to pass them in separate parties, effect a junction, and fall in concert upon the American left, under Arnold. This done, at a pre- concerted signal, the artillery, under Phillips, was to advance along the flat and complete the discomfiture of the republican army. It would appear, at first, to have been Gates's intention to remain on the defensive within his lines, but such a proceeding ill suited the impetuous temper of Arnold, who thought that the bravest, and even the most prudent course, was to anticipate the attack of his adversary. At his earnest solicita- tion, Morgan was sent out with his riflemen, and after a spirited skirmish, drove back the Canadians and Indians, who covered the main body of the English. Fraser, meanwhile, was pushing onward as fast as the irregular and woody ground would permit, to turn the American left, when he was suddenly encountered by Arnold, meditating a similar design on him. The latter, with his accustomed bravery, led his men with shouts to the attack, but was at length driven back by Fraser. Rallying again and joined by fresh rein- forcements, he threatened to cut off his opponent's division from the main body ; but Fraser parried this design by bringing up new regiments, while Phillips despatched four pieces of light artillery, under the command of Lieu- tenant Jones, to strengthen the point thus menaced. Thus the conflict was for a while suspended, but about three o'clock it raged with increased fury. S L 442 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c h a p. The British, artillery thundered upon the enemy, but from the closeness of — — the forest produced but little effect. Their troops then advanced with the d.D. 1777. . ... ' bayonet, driving the Americans within the woods, who again sallied forth and renewed the combat with desperate fury, and thus each party alternately bore back the other — the British guns being several times taken and re- taken, till the gallant Jones, who commanded them, at length fell dead at his post. Terrible execution was done by the American riflemen, who climbed into trees and picked off the British officers ; Burgoyne himself having a most narrow escape. Arnold, who during the day had behaved with the most daring bravery, earnestly entreated Gates, towards evening, to let him attack the British with fresh troops, in the hope of achieving a complete victory, but the commander-in-chief refused to run any further hazard. And thus night closed upon as obstinate an encounter, as, by the admission of the British generals, they were ever engaged in. They still occupied the field of battle, and claimed the victory, but as it was evidently their intention to force a pas- sage, their failure was practically a defeat, both in the elation which it caused to the Americans and the discouragement to their own troops, who slept upon the field, ready, if needful, to renew the engagement on the following morning. * By his daring bravery in this affair, Arnold had acquired general admira- tion, which, however, was but coldly looked upon by Gates, who was offended with his forwardness, and feared, perhaps, some unfortunate result of his im- pulsive ardour. A dispute which arose, ended in Gates threatening to take away Arnold's command ; and the latter, maddened by his treatment, request- ing a pass to leave the army. On reflection, however, he determined to remain and act as a volunteer ; for on the arrival of General Lincoln with fresh troops, Gates gave up to that officer the command of the right wing, and himself assumed the command of the left. This decisive check convinced Burgoyne that it was almost hopeless to force the American lines, and that the road to Albany was closed to him. His situation now became exceedingly perilous, he could neither ad* vance nor retreat with safety, and his chance of escape entirely depended on the speedy appearance of Clinton. Repeated messengers had been de- spatched, but had been intercepted by the vigilance of the American pickets. At length, when impatience was at its height, a messenger arrived with a letter in cipher from Clinton, informing Burgoyne that about the 20th of the month he intended to advance up the Hudson and attack Fort Montgomery, in the hope that this movement might alarm Gates, and compel him to retreat — more than that, he regretted to say, was not in his power to promise. Bur- goyne immediately despatched several emissaries by different ways to Clinton, exposing his perilous position, and stating that his provisions would only hold out until the 12th of October. The news of Clinton's intended movement was also conveyed to Gates's camp, where it excited considerable apprehension. The day after the battle, such was the scarcity of ammunition in the American camp, that hacl Burgoyne been acquainted with it, he would not have failed to renew the combat, and might have obtained a decisive victory. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 443 But the dangerous secret was kept safely by Gates, until fresh supplies had chap. come in. His troops were now every day increasing, the whole country around '■ — rising with spirit, and hemming in, on all sides, the British army, which by losses and desertions was as rapidly falling away. Burgoyne now proceeded to throw up intrenchments, extending from the river along the hills, and defended upon the extreme right by a formidable re- doubt. In this position the army passed sixteen miserable days. It had been found necessary already to reduce the rations, and the capture by the Americans of a large convoy of provisions put the climax to their distress. It was now the sixth of October, and on the twelfth they must decamp. A council was held, at which it was decided to fight rather than starve, besides which, by a successful stroke, they might, peradventure, break through the enemy's lines, and extricate themselves from their perilous position. With the overwhelming force in front of him, Burgoyne could not venture to withdraw more than fifteen hundred picked men from his lines, and with these on the morning of the 7th he issued forth, partly to cover a foraging party, and also if possible to turn the American left, which, since the first bat- tle, had been considerably strengthened. After some preliminary skirmishing, about two o'clock the conflict began in earnest. The British right was under Earl Balcarras, the left under Major Acland, and the artillery under Major Williams, while Generals Phillips and Reidesel commanded the centre. To General Fraser was confided the charge of five hundred picked men, destined, at the critical moment, to fall upon the American left flank. Gates perceiving this design, detached Morgan with his rifle corps and other troops, three times outnumbering Fraser's, to overwhelm that officer at the same moment that a large force attacked the British left. Such was the general position of the combatants, to follow their movements in detail would convey but a confused idea to the reader. Suffice it to say, the conflict between two armies of the same Anglo-Saxon blood and sinew, was waged with the desperate resolution that discipline and despair on the one hand, and on the other the consciousness that they were fighting to expel a foreign invader, could inflame the breasts of the combatants. The British artillery, from the broken and woody nature of the ground, could not be effec- tively brought into play, and the contest had to be decided by daring courage and dogged tenacity alone. As the Americans advanced to attack the British left artillery, they were received with a crashing storm of balls, which, however, from the nature of the ground, for the most part fell harmless. They then rushed to the as- sault with fury, but were confronted with equal determination. Five times one of the pieces was captured and recaptured. Colonel Cilley leaped upon a cannon, and, sword in hand, dedicating it to " the American cause," wheeled it round upon the British, an exploit which inflamed his men to the highest pitch. Yet it was not until Major Acland was wounded, and the captain of artillery taken prisoner, that the British were compelled to fall back. Morgan meanwhile, with his fifteen hundred marksmen, had forced Fraser to give way, 3i2 444 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c ha p. and then assailed the British right, who were however rallied, while the centre ■ — as yet remained unshaken. Such was the state of affairs, when Arnold, no longer able to control his feelings, leaped on horseback, and though without a command, put himself at the head of some of his old regiments and rushed into the thick of the battle. Gates, fearing lest he should commit some blunder, sent his aide-de-camp in chase of him, but his movements were so erratic that he could not be over- taken. Waving high his sabre, and urging forward his followers with shouts, Arnold threw himself with irresistible fury upon the British centre, which was unable to support the shock. The engagement was now general, and raged on all sides with desperate fury. Fraser, foiled in his original design, became most conspicuous among the English leaders. As the line was broken he rallied it, and with eagle-eyed glance adopting a fresh dispo- sition, successfully parried all the movements of the enemy. Splendidly mounted, and in the full dress of a field officer, he dashed to and fro amidst the din of conflict, the soul of the British ranks, and seemed by his own pre- sence and example alone to uphold their resistance. The practice of picking off the British officers had become a favourite one with the Americans ever since the commencement of the war, but it never appears to have led the former to shrink from the discharge of their duty. Arnold, it is said, first suggested to Morgan the necessity of cutting off Fraser, and Morgan calling around a file of his riflemen, thus addressed them : " That gallant officer is General Fraser, I admire and honour him, but it is necessary he should die ; take your station amidst that clump of bushes and do your duty." They clambered into the trees, and in a few moments a rifle-ball cut the crupper of the general's horse, while another passed through his horse's mane. His-aide-de camp warned him that the enemy were taking aim at him, and urged him to defeat their purpose by removing. The gallant general was perfectly aware of it, but merely replied to this pressing solicita- tion, " My duty forbids me to fly from danger." The next moment he fell from his horse mortally wounded, and was carried off the field. Burgoyne now earnestly endeavoured to rally the discouraged English, overwhelmed at this critical moment by three thousand fresh troops. He had himself behaved with distinguished courage, and had several narrow escapes from the fate that had befallen Fraser, one bullet having passed through his hat, and another his coat. But all his efforts were in vain, the line gave way, and covered by Phillips and Reidesel, retreated tumultuously within their intrenchments, closely pursued by the victorious and exulting Americans. Foremost in the attack was Arnold, who, intoxicated with success, and utterly reckless of danger, seemed determined at all events to carry the in- trenchments that very night. Foiled in one direction by the obstinate resist- ance of the English, he galloped off through the thick of the fire, till meeting another body of assailants, he put himself at their head and threw himself with fury up6n that part of the line defended by the Germans. His voice rose above the tumult of battle, and in the fury of excitement he struck one of HISTORY OF AMERICA. 445 his own officers with the sword, to urge him forward. At length, having chap. found the IGN OP 1779. — REDUCTION OF GEORGIA. — STATE OP THE SOUTH. — STORMING OP STONY POINT. — IMPULSE OF D'ESTAING AT SAVANNAH. — AFFAIRS IN CONGRESS. — PAUL JONES. — EN- CAMPMENT IN THE HIGHLANDS. chap. Having, with, a vast expenditure of men and money, utterly failed to sub- due the northern or middle colonies, the British generals now turned their attention to the south ; being chiefly encouraged to do so, by the far greater want of union and predominance of Tory influence among the population. The first blow was struck in Georgia. On the 28th of December, Colonel Campbell, sent from New York with three thousand British troops, appeared before Savannah, which could only be approached by a long causeway, leading across a deep and impassable morass. General Howe, with a feeble corps of eight hundred Americans, placed himself between the morass and city, and prepared to make a gallant defence. But a negro having informed Campbell of a by-path, by which he could gain the rear of the Americans, he was thus enabled to attack them on both sides at once, make prisoners of half the detach- ment, and obtain possession of the city. General Prevost, then placed over the British troops in East Florida, having been ordered to assume the command, hastened to Savannah, having on his way reduced the post of Sunbury. Augusta was also captured, and thus the whole of Georgia fell at one stroke into the power of the invaders. The success of the British now emboldened their partisans to come forward. Seven hundred North Carolina royalists were marching across the country, when they were attacked by a body of republican militia, and a fierce en- counter ensued. As hostilities proceeded, the state of the country became fearful. When parties of Whigs and Tories met in civil conflict, "they seemed," to quote the vivid language of Caldwell, " to fight for extermina- tion, rather than victory. This was the case, at least, in small partisan affairs, which, from the nature of the contest, were more numerous in the southern than in the northern States. Another circumstance, which added much to the bloodshed and desolation of the times, was, that the population of those States was more equally divided than elsewhere between royalists and ad- herents to the cause of freedom, or, as they were commonly called, Whigs and Tories. From this were engendered, in their most terrific form, that mutual animosity and deadly hate, which always characterize civil wars, and usually convert them into systematized scenes of assassination and rapine." Much as the northern colonies had suffered, and still had to endure, from the miseries HISTORY OF AMERICA. 469 of civil conflict, it was in the southern States that they were to be experi- chap. enced in their fellest and most deadly extreme. • A, D. 1779. General Lincoln, having been sent to supersede Howe, took post with fourteen hundred men opposite Augusta, compelled the British to evacuate that place, and pursued them as far as Brier Creek. Here, however, his suc- cess was fatally reversed. Prevost, by making a wide circuit, suddenly threw himself upon his rear, killed or wounded four hundred Americans, and cap- tured his cannon and baggage, with a loss of only about half a dozen of his own men. Lincoln, however, still kept the field, and retired towards Augusta, leaving a thousand men to guard the Lower Savannah. Prevost drove all before him, and, encouraged by Tory support, even ventured to march upon Charleston ; but when Lincoln returned to its defence, was compelled to fall back to Savannah, burning and ravaging, on his way, the houses and property of the leading republicans. True to their threat, that the war should henceforth assume a severer character, the British despatched a marauding expedition into Virginia. General Matthews, with a squadron and army, ascended the Chesapeake, took Portsmouth and Norfolk, captured or burned a hundred and thirty merchant vessels and several unfinished ships of war, and carried off an enormous booty. The damage inflicted by this expedition was estimated at not less than two millions of dollars. " What sort of war is this ? " asked the Vir- ginians of the British. " It is thus," was the reply, " we are commanded to treat all, who refuse to obey the king." Another similar expedition was undertaken by Try on and Garth against the sea-coast of Connecticut, the ports of which had sent forth a large num- ber of privateers, cutting off the British merchantmen, and intercepting sup- plies from reaching the British at New York. On landing, the royal com- manders issued an address, setting forth the lenity which the people had experienced from his Majesty's officers, and the ungrateful return made for it, adding, that " the existence of a single house on their coast, ought to be a constant proof of their ingratitude, that they who lay so much in the British power, afforded a striking monument of their mercy, and ought therefore to set the first example of returning to their allegiance." However justifiable, in a military sense, such an expedition might have been, nothing could ex- cuse the ruthless barbarity with which it was carried out. As, far from sub- mitting, the militia offered what resistance was in their power, Newhaven was ravaged and plundered, Fairfield and Norwalk set on fire, and the de- struction of nearly two hundred buildings and five churches, with mills and shipping, marked the devastating path of the invaders. To inspire a feeling of terror, by striking examples of severity, and by inflicting upon the obstinate republicans all the miseries of civil war, had now become the vindictive policy of the British government. While these affairs were proceeding, Clinton ascended the river with a strong force, and took the forts at Verplanck's Point and Stony Point. As the works in the Highlands were now seriously menaced, Washington 470 HISTORY OF AMERICA. cl \v P " planned an expedition to recover Stony Point, which was executed with (TdTt™ & reat gallantry, by General "Wayne, on the night of July 15th, and was indeed one of the most dashing exploits of the revolutionary war. Stony Point, as its name implies, is a rocky promontory, washed on three sides by the Hudson, and accessible on the other only across a morass, de- fended by two lines of abattis and outworks. Stealing with the utmost secrecy through the woods, the party near midnight reached the edge of the morass, where Wayne divided his forces into two columns, who were to as- sault the works at as many different points. A forlorn hope, under Lieu- tenants Gibbon and Knox, preceded them to remove the obstructions. The men were ordered to make use of the bayonet alone. They were not discovered until within pistol-shot, when the alarm was given, the drum beat to arms, and amidst the darkness and confusion a heavy fire immediately opened on the assailants. Nearly all the forlorn hope perished, but in spite of resistance the Americans broke through the barriers and carried all before them. "Wayne was struck down on his knees by a ball, and believing himself mortally wounded, exclaimed, as his aide-de-camp assisted him to rise, " March on ! carry me into the fort, for I will die at the head of my column ; " — he was, how- ever, enabled to proceed with his men. The two columns gained the centre of the works at the same moment, with loud huzzas of triumph, and the gar- rison were compelled to surrender at discretion. "Wayne's brief note to "Washington is characteristic. " The fort and garrison, with Colonel Johnson, are ours. Our officers and men behaved like men who are determined to be free." In memory of this brilliant exploit, Congress voted medals to General Wayne, Captain de Fleury, and Major Stewart. To maintain the post long was, however, impossible, and after the destruction of the works, the cannon was put on board a galley to be removed to West Point, but was sunk by an unlucky shot from the enemy's batteries on the other side of the stream. Another action of great spirit was the surprise of Paulus Hook, opposite New York, by Colonel Lee, and the capture of the garrison, thus carried off almost within sight of the head-quarters of Sir Henry Clinton. These suc- cesses, although in themselves of little importance, served to keep up the spirits of the American army and people, and to check aggressive operations on the part of the British troops. The war now embraced both hemispheres, and the ocean that separated them ; and the operations on the soil of America were comparatively insig- nificant. The islands of the West Indies became the theatre of conflict, and the prize for which the navies of France and England contended. Before D'Estaing reached those waters with his fleet, Dominica had fallen into the hands of the French, commanded by the Marquis de Bouille, while the Eng- lish had taken St. Lucie. Having in vain sought to bring D'Estaing to a general action, Byron sailed to convoy home the West Indiamen, during which interval D'Estaing, reinforced by several ships, made the conquest of Grenada. Scarcely was this effected, when the English ships returned, and a warm but partial engagement took place, which, as his opponent was com- HISTORY OF AMERICA. 471 pelled to retire, D'Estaing considered a victory. According to the tenor CH 1 ^ P - of his orders, he ought now to have returned home with the principal part of A p iJjg - his fleet, but having received the most pressing letters from America, com- plaining of the abortive issue of the attack on Newport, and urging him not to retire until he had assisted in expelling the enemy from Georgia, he de- termined to comply with this request. On the 1st of September, he appeared off Savannah, and having sent word of his arrival to General Lincoln at Charleston, a combined American and French force soon afterward prepared to invest the city. D'Estaing now imperiously summoned Prevost to surrender, in the name of the King of France. The English general, anxious to gain time, artfully protracted the negociation till Colonel Maitland had returned, with the rest of his troops, when he set the besiegers at defiance. He had laboured so inces- santly to strengthen the fortifications, that regular approaches became neces- sary, and the works were pushed on till the third of October, when the place was bombaided with the utmost fury. Prevost begged that an asylum might be granted to the suffering women and children, on board a French ship, till the issue of the siege was decided, but this request was rudely refused. . No impression whatever was made upon the works, and D'Estaing, with his fleet exposed on the coast during the stormy season, and liable to be attacked at disadvantage by the English, felt unwilling to remain until the approaches could be carried to completion, and was compelled to hazard an assault. The French and American columns, headed by D'Estaing and Lincoln, advanced to the attack with mutual emulation, but so desperate was the resistance of the besieged, and so well served their artillery, that after a terrible slaughter, amidst which Count Pulaski met his fate, the assailants were compelled to re- tire, and precipitately abandon the siege. The unfortunate issue of this affair deepened the disgust already inspired by the abortive attack on Newport. Another deplorable reverse was experienced this season by the State of Massachusetts. A small British force having established themselves on the Penobscot, an armament of nineteen ships, carrying a body of fifteen hundred militia, were sent to dislodge them, under the command of General Lovell. Finding that the enemies' works were too strong to be taken by the force at his command, Lovell sent back for reinforcements. While waiting for them he was surprised by five British men of war, which burned the vessels, and scat- tered the troops, who had to make their way in small parties through a path- less wilderness, before they reached the confines of civilization. During these unfortunate operations Congress was distracted by a variety of anxious business. When the treaty with France was concluded, the right had been reserved for Spain to become a party to it, by virtue of a family com- pact between the Bourbon princes. It was but reluctantly that the Spanish monarch embraced the quarrel. Although participating the desire of the French king for the humiliation of their common enemy, Great Britain, he witnessed with anxiety the spread of republican principles upon the American continent, which, if finally victorious, might prove a contagious example for his own 472 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c *fy p * colonies. Having however, determined to cast in his lot with France, it next A D 1779 became his object to extort the best terms from the necessities of the Ameri- cans. The French ambassador, M. Gerard, vaunted the advantages of this new connexion, which could not fail to give an overwhelming weight to the American scale. In return for the joint assistance of France and Spain, he endeavoured to obtain for the latter the concession of the Floridas, a large tract, east of the Mississippi, and the exclusive right to navigate that river. For his own court, he sought to induce Congress to give up the fisheries of Newfoundland. He argued also, that it would be expecting too much of the pride of Great Britain, formally to acknowledge the independence of her revolted colonies, and that the Americans ought, like the Swiss and Dutch, to be content with a tacit and indirect admission of it. These unreasonable terms, militating, as they did, against the interest of the separate States, oc- casioned a lengthened, and often an angry discussion. What one was disposed to concede as indifferent, another was determined to retain as vital. Massa- chusetts could not surrender the northern fisheries, Virginia required the free navigation of the Mississippi. Eventually the claims were compromised; Florida was given up to Spain, the other matters left undecided ; but upon one point the Americans were inflexible — that the war should be maintained until their independence was formally acknowledged and ratified. Bitter disputes had also arisen concerning the conduct of the foreign agents. Silas Deane, who, it will be remembered, was originally sent out in the character of a private merchant, to open negotiations with France, and through whose hands almost all the business of the commissioners .had after- wards passed, had lately returned on board the French squadron. Accused, as it would seem unjustly, of malversation, by Arthur Lee, formerly agent at London, he was as warmly defended by Morris, the principal financier, and others. Congress was divided into opposite factions, and recriminatory writings inflamed the dispute. In one of these, by Thomas Paine, allusion was made to the secret arrangement between Beaumarchais and Lee, by which, under the guise of commercial transactions, munitions of war had been sent from the French arsenals to assist the Americans. The French ambas- sador complained of this statement as affecting the honour of his court, though there can be little doubt that the statement was, at least, partially true, and in consequence an express disavowal was put forth by Congress. Amidst the complexity of transactions, some of them secret, much confusion of ac- counts had arisen, by which Deane, against whom no charges could be estab- lished, and who seems to have involved his own fortune, was ultimately the sufferer. Unable to obtain the verification or discharge of a debt due to him by Congress, he sunk into great distress, and was overwhelmed with un- merited obloquy, an example of the fate that often befalls one sustaining a critical and delicate office in unsettled and trying times. As a plausible pretext for hostilities, Spain now proposed to mediate be- tween the contending parties, offering terms, which, as she was well assured they would be, were rejected by Great Britain. Having completed her HISTORY OF AMERICA.. 473 naval preparations, she then put forth a long list of alleged grievances, and chap. openly declared war. Galvez, the Spanish governor of New Orleans, imme — diately invaded Florida, and with an overwhelming force speedily reduced all the British posts, with the exception of Pensacola. To check incursions on the part of the Tories and their Indian allies, General Sullivan was sent with a considerable force against Fort Niagara, their head-quarters. Ascending the Upper Susquehanna, and routing on the way a force, under Brant, the Butlers, and Johnson, he penetrated the forests into the valley of the Genesee, hitherto unvisited, but exhibiting a far higher degree of civilization than it was supposed the Indians had then at- tained. Orchards of ancient growth, corn-fields, and well-built timber-houses, attested a long and quiet occupation of the soil. This smiling scene was con- verted into a wilderness by the invaders, in the hope that starvation would compel the Indians to retire to a greater distance. It was, however, found impossible to reach Niagara, and Sullivan returned with his brigade to Easton, in Pennsylvania. No permanent relief was produced by this inroad, the Indians soon returned with increased fury, and the frontier was kept in a state of excitement until the termination of the war. The coasts of Great Britain, had, in the meanwhile, been menaced with the same calamities which she was inflicting on those of America. A formidable fleet of French and Spanish ships appeared in the British Channel, to humble that overgrown naval power, become the object of their hatred and their fears. But this second Armada, dispersed by tempests, and dispirited by sickness, proved as unfortunate as the first, and was obliged to return home without having accomplished its intended purpose. The dauntless spirit of the English rose with the perils that threatened to overwhelm them. Their cruisers had greatly crippled the infant American navy, and diminished the number of privateers. Some few hardy spirits, however, not only kept the sea, but ventured to affront the enemy, even within his own waters. Of these men, the most remarkable was Paul Jones, a native of Scotland, and originally brought up to the sea, which profession he relinquished, in order to settle in Virginia. When the war broke out, he obtained a commission, and in command of the Ranger, infested the English coasts, making sudden descents on the land, cutting out vessels, taking prizes, and spreading a general consternation. His exploits obtained him the command of a small squadron, fitted out in France, consisting of the " Bonhomme Richard," a forty-two gun ship, the " Alliance " and " Pallas " frigates, and other smaller vessels. With this armament, he ventured into Leith roads, in chase of a ship of war, but was driven out to sea by a gale, and continued his cruise along the eastern coast of Britain. On the 23rd of September, when off Flamborough Head, the Baltic fleet of merchantmen hove in sight, convoyed by the " Serapis " of forty-four guns, under Captain Pearson, and " Countess of Scarborough" of twenty guns. The two heavy frigates immediately prepared to engage, while the merchantmen endeavoured to make good their retreat to the coast. 3 P IV A. D. 1779 474 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. About seven in the evening, when quite dark, the two ships began the conflict with a furious cannonade. Almost at the outset, some of Jones's heavy guns burst and killed the men who served them ; his sailors refused to work the others, and thus he was reduced to his smaller artillery alone. A pause taking place in consequence, Pearson hailed to ask if his adversary had struck, to which Jozies replied, that he had not yet begun to fight. Find- ing, in fact, that in his crippled state he stood no chance against the heavier metal of the " Serapis," he adopted the sole, but desperate, expedient open to him, of falling on board his more powerful adversary. As the failure of a manoeuvre brought the ships together, Jones, with his own hand, lashed them fast, and commenced the deadly grapple for victory or death. The British attempting to board, were repulsed, but their lower guns, pointed against the main deck of the " Richard," did fearful execution, tearing away the whole in- side of the ship, and driving the men above. Unable to maintain the conflict below, the American crew ascended into the tops, and thence kept up a deadly fire upon the deck of the " Serapis." A grenade thrown from the end of the main-yard, lighting upon some combustibles, occasioned a fearful ex- plosion, by which nearly sixty of the English sailors were killed or disabled, and the rest driven down into the hold. At this moment the " Alliance" came to assist her consort, but in the darkness and confusion, fired into her by mis- take. The American ship, thus riddled through by the balls of both friends and enemies, was supposed to be sinking ; the prisoners were released, and one of them made his way on board the " Serapis," and declared that the " Richard" could no longer maintain the combat. In fact, the gunner actually went to haul down the colours, but they had been accidentally shot away. Both ships were on fire, and in the darkness o£the night presented a spectacle of awful sublimity. A second time did Pearson demand if the " Richard " had surrendered. Jones sternly replied , No ! but the English captain, not having heard him, supposed the combat was ended, called off his boarders, and prepared to take possession of his prize. Jones, however, continued to fight desperately on ;* until the main-mast of the "Serapis" being shot away, her men driven below, and the " Alliance " also preparing to attack him ; the gallant Pearson, who, during the action, had never quitted the deck, was com- pelled to haul down his colours. But the triumph of Jones was of short duration, his own ship was rapidly filling, and shortly afterwards went down. The " Countess of Scarborough" was captured by the two American frigates. Jones, in the dismasted " Serapis," was driven about in the North Sea, at the mercy of wind and tempest, till he succeeded in gaining the Texel with his prizes. Thus terminated one of the most singular and desperate conflicts recorded in the annals of naval warfare. During the campaign, Washington remained with his troops in the neigh- bourhood of the Highlands, where the new fortifications of West Point were being rapidly carried to completion. His position and force were too strong to enable Sir Henry Clinton to attack him, his own too weak to hazard an at- tack upon New York, and he wisely avoided all attempts to draw on a general V. A. D. 1779. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 475 engagement. Yet, although prevented from mingling in active operations, chap. he was still the directing soul of distant movements, and continually engaged in correspondence. Some of his most interesting letters, at this period, are to Lafayette, who had returned to France, in order to obtain fresh succours for the Americans. An extract from one of these will exhibit the general position of affairs. " We are happy," thus it runs, " in the repeated assurances and proofs of the friendship of our great and good ally. We also natter our- selves, that before this period the kings of Spain and the two Sicilies may be greeted as allies of the United States ; and we are not a little pleased to find, from good authority, that the solicitations and offers of the court of Great Britain to the empress of Russia have been rejected; nor are we to be displeased, that overtures from the city of Amsterdam, for entering into a commercial connexion with us, have been made in such open and pointed terms. Such favourable sentiments, in so many powerful princes and states, cannot but be considered in a very honourable, interesting, and pleasing point of view, by all those who have struggled with difficulties and misfortunes, to maintain the rights and secure the liberties of their country. But, notwith- standing these flattering appearances, the British king and his ministers con- tinue to threaten us with war and deooiation. A few months, however, must decide whether these or peace is to take place. For both we will prepare ; and, should the former be continued, I shall not despair of sharing fresh toils and dangers with you in America ; but, if the latter succeeds, I can entertain little hopes that the rural amusements of an infant world, or the contracted stage of an American theatre, can withdraw your attention and services from the gaieties of a court, and the active part you will more than probably be called upon to share in the administration of your government. The soldier will then be transformed into the statesman, and your employment in this new walk of life will afford you no time to revisit this continent, or think of friends who lament your absence." Amidst the tiresome detail of battles and sieges, it may be a relief to turn to the head-quarters at West Point, and by quoting a letter from Washington to Dr. Cochran, show the style in which the great man lived, and in which he could sometimes unbend from his oppressive anxieties. " 16th August. "Dear Doctor, I have asked Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow, but am I not in honour bound to apprize them of their fare ? As I hate deception, even where the imagination only is concerned, I will. It is needless to premise that my table is large enough to hold the ladies. Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually covered, is rather more essential, and this shall be the purport of my letter. " Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, sometimes a shoulder of bacon, to grace the head of the table, a piece of roast beef adorns the foot, and a dish of beans, or greens, almost imperceptible, decorates the centre. When the cook has a mind to cut a figure, which I presume will be 2p2 476 HISTORY OF AMERICA. c fA p - the case to-morrow, we have two beef-steak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addi- A D ir79 tion, one on each side of the centre dish, dividing the space, and reducing the distance between dish and dish to about six feet, which without them would be nearly twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagacity to discover that apples will make pies, and it is a question, if, in the violence of his efforts, we do not get one of apples, instead of having both of beef-steaks. If the ladies can put up with such entertainment, and will submit to partake of it on plates, once tin, but now iron, (not become so by the labour of scour- ing,) I shall be happy to see them, and am, dear Doctor, Yours." This forced inaction was far from being agreeable to "Washington, and in the hope that Count D'Estaing would return to the north, after his abortive visit to Newport, the French ambassador had repaired to head-quarters, to concert an attack upon New York, by the combined French and American forces. The season, however, wore away without the appearance of D'Estaing, and the failure of his attack on Savannah put an end to this plan, which always remained a favourite one with Washington. The state of the army had been muoli improved since the last winter, by the strenuous labours of General Greene, who had reluctantly undertaken the important, but ungrateful, office of quarter-master-general. Loud com- plaints were, nevertheless, made of the enormous expense of his department, and it was with difficulty he was prevailed on to serve a little longer. By the depreciation of the paper money, prices were now nominally enormous. The first issues made by Congress had never been redeemed, and they had now put into circulation notes to the amount of two hundred millions of dollars. Forty of these paper dollars were, at this time, worth but one in specie. The attempt to regulate prices was abortive, a serious riot taking place upon this ground in Philadelphia. To bolster up the credit of the paper, it was made legal tender for debts contracted at specie prices ; the fraudulent and embarrassed took this means of paying their debts, and "Wash- ington himself suffered from this species of legal swindling. Owing to these causes, and to the early approach of winter, the army began to experience the distresses of the last. " For a fortnight past," said Washington, in his letter to the magistrates of New Jersey, " both officers and men have been almost perishing for want. They have been alternately without bread or meat the whole time, with a very scanty allowance of either, and frequently destitute of both. They have borne their sufferings with a patience that merits the approbation, and ought to excite the sympathy, of their countrymen." Such was the distress, that Washington was obliged, for a while, to call upon the States to furnish specific supplies of grain and cattle for his suffering troops. As far as the north was concerned, the results of the year are well summed up in a letter from Washington to his friend Lafayette, who had returned for a while to France. " The operations of the enemy, this campaign, have been confined to the establishment of works of defence, taking a post at King's HISTORY OF AMERICA. 477 Ferry, and burning the defenceless towns of New Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk on the Sound, within reach of their shipping, where little else was, or could be opposed to them, than the cries of distressed women and chil- dren, but these were offered in vain. Since these notable exploits, they have never stepped out of their works, or beyond their lines. How a conduct of this kind is to effect the conquest of America, the wisdom of a North, a Germaine, or a Sandwich, can best decide. It is too deep and refined for the comprehension of common understandings, and the general run of po- liticians." CHAP. IV. A.D. 1770. CHAPTER V. A. D. 1780. CAMPAIGN OP 1780.— CAPTURE OF CHARLESTON.— STATE OP THE SOUTHERN PROVINCES.— HATT1B OP CAMDEN. — ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH UNDER ROCHAMBEAU. — TREASON OP ARNOLD AND EX- ECUTION OP ANDRE.— FRANKLIN AT PARIS. — ARMED NEUTRALITY. As soon as Sir Henry Clinton was assured that D'Estaing had departed with chap. his fleet, he recalled the troops in occupation of Newport, and leaving a body in New York more than sufficient to keep Washington in check, embarked with the rest of his forces for Savannah, carrying with him a corps of cavalry, which it was judged could operate to advantage in the level plains of the south. His passage was very tempestuous ; the fleet dispersed, one of his ships foundered, another was captured, and the horses were lost. At length the scattered armament assembled on the shores of Georgia. Clinton had hoped to strike a blow at Charleston before time could be gained for its defence, but his design was discovered by the prisoners on board the captured ship, and the delay occasioned by refitting his damaged vessels enabled the Carolinians to prepare for defence. To stimulate them to the utmost, Congress promised a large reinforcement, but with the utmost exertions could detach a mere handful to their assistance. It was proposed to raise and arm a regiment of slaves, but to this plan the planters had an in- superable objection ; six hundred negroes, however, directed by French engineers, were made to labour upon the fortifications, which were rendered extensive and formidable. The militia were summoned, on pain of forfeiting their property, but, as the small-pox was known to be raging in the city, only two hundred ventured to come forward. The whole force, of all sorts, at the command of General Lincoln, was far from adequate to defend so extensive a place. The assembly, under the urgency of the circumstances, had invested Governor Rutledge with " the power to do every thing necessary for the CHAP. V. A. D. 1780. 478 HISTORY OF AMERICA. public good, except taking away the life of a citizen/' and the most inde- fatigable efforts were made by him to put the city into a posture of defence. Advancing along the coast, Clinton invested the city by land, and on the first of April began to form regular approaches. Four American and two French frigates, with some smaller vessels, defended the harbour, but the English ships ran past Fort Moultrie with very trifling loss, and stationed themselves within cannon-shot of the city, which was thus menaced by sea and land at once. The only communication of the town with the country was kept up by two regiments of horse under the command of General Huger and Colonel Wash- ington, stationed in a strong position at Monks' Corner, defended by a morass and causeway. Clinton detached Lieutenant-Colonel Webster, one of his best officers, to surprise this important post. He was accompanied by Fergu- son and Tarleton, the latter a brilliant cavalry officer, as rapid, impetuous, and dashing in his enterprises, as he was ruthless and implacable in the treatment of his enemies. Conducted by a negro, whom they had captured, about three in the morning the English came suddenly on the Americans, cutting them to pieces with great slaughter, Huger and Washington with difficulty effect- ing their escape. The besieged were thus entirely enclosed, and the sur- rounding country overrun by the English. Soon after Fort Moultrie, so celebrated in the former abortive attack by the British, invested on all sides, was compelled to surrender without firing a shot. Clinton, having completed his third parallel, bombarded the city, and a second time summoned Lincoln, in order to avoid the horrors of an assault. The American general had been desirous of evacuating the city, but this de- sign proved impracticable ; he had next, finding his position untenable, offered to capitulate on terms which Clinton had refused, and he was now, at the request of the citizens, compelled to surrender, on condition that his troops should become prisoners of war, and the militia retire unmolested on the promise to take no further share in the quarrel. Thus Charleston, after a siege of forty-two days, fell into the power of the English. Lincoln was much blamed for allowing himself to be enclosed in the city, and not extri- cating himself when resistance became hopeless. But he justly replied, that it was intended to defend the place, and that the assistance promised by Con- gress had never been forthcoming. Scarcely had Clinton taken Charleston, than he vigorously prepared to quench the dying embers of opposition to the royal cause, and encourage its friends to come forward. He sent off three expeditions, one towards Au- gusta, another towards Camden, and a third under Tarleton against a Vir- ginian regiment led by Colonel Buford, who on learning the fall of Charles- ton, and of the force sent against him, commenced a rapid retreat. He had already gained so much time, that pursuit seemed hopeless, but the fiery Tarleton promised to reach him. Many of his horses dropped dead with fatigue, but by pressing others, after a forced march of a hundred and five miles in fifty-four hours, on the 29th of May, at a place called A.D. 1780. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 479 the Waxhaws, he suddenly appeared before the panic-stricken fugitives, chap. Though taken by surprise, Buford refused to surrender, and hurriedly threw his men into line, desiring them to reserve their fire till the enemy were Close upon them. A few men were brought down, and Tarleton had his horse shot under him, but the cavalry burst upon the republicans with such impetuosity, that they were instantly broken, and a terrible car- nage commenced. Deaf to their cries for mercy, and fancying their leader slain, the infuriated horsemen cut down the unresisting Americans ; a hun- dred and thirteen were butchered on the spot, and of two hundred prisoners the greater part were desperately wounded, though the English colonel de- clared that the survivors were humanely attended to. This ruthless treat- ment obtained among the republicans the proverbial appellation of Tarleton' 's quarter. The other detachments found nothing to oppose their progress, and thus the whole of South Carolina was reduced to the royal sway. The province being thus subdued, Sir Henry Clinton published an amnesty, offering full pardon to all who should return to their duty, except " only those who had imbrued their hands in the blood of their fellow- citizens." But it was not his intention to allow the inhabitants to observe a peaceful neutrality. Not content with a mere nominal submission, he compelled all parties openly to espouse the royal cause, and arm themselves for the purpose of " driving," as he chose to call them, " their rebel oppressors, and all the miseries of the war, far from the province." Moreover, releasing the American prisoners from their parole, he now required them to take up arms against the cause they had so lately defended. Deep was the indignation of the Carolinians, but exposed to be treated as rebels if they refused, the majority were obliged to dissimulate, and comply with the bitter requisitions of their conqueror. Sir Henry Clinton, having thus established a hollow and treacherous tran- quillity, returned to New York with a part of his forces, leaving behind four thousand men under Lord Cornwallis, the most able and enterprising officer in the royal service in America. This policy of the British, by compelling the neutral to choose sides, ex- citing the hopes of the Tories, and exasperating the fury of the Whigs, car- ried to its height the party spirit with which the southern States were already divided. The wealthy planters were mostly ardent republicans, as were the Scotch, Irish, and backwoodsmen. The Highlanders and Regulators were Tories, while the Quakers, Dutch, and Germans were disposed to be quiet and peaceably submit to the invaders. A fearful picture of their dissensions is given by the biographer of Greene. " With dispositions as fell and vindictive as all the sanguinary passions could render them, neighbour was reciprocally arrayed against neighbour, brother against brother, and even father against son. Neither in the dark- ness of the night, the enclosures of dwelling-houses, the depths of forests, nor the entanglements of the swamps and morasses of the country, was security to be found. Places of secrecy and retreat, being known alike to both parties, afforded no asylum ; but were oftentimes marked with the most V A. D. 1780 480 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, shocking barbarities. The murderer in his ambush, and the warriors in their ambuscade, being thus in the daily perpetration of deeds of violence and blood, travelling became almost as dangerous as battle. Strangers, of whom nothing was known, and who appeared to be quietly pursuing their journey, were oftentimes shot down, or otherwise assassinated, in the public road. Whole districts of country resembled our frontier settlements during the prevalence of an Indian war. Even when engaged in their common con- cerns, the inhabitants wore arms, prepared alike for attack or defence. " But this was not all. The period was marked with another source of slaughter, which added not a little to its fatal character. Participating in the murderous spirit of the times, slaves, that were in many places numerous and powerful, rose against their masters, armed with whatever weapon of de- struction accident or secret preparation might supply. In these scenes of horror, the knife, the hatchet, and the poisoned cup were indiscriminately employed. Some whole families were strangled by their slaves, while, by the same hands, others were consumed amid the blaze of their dwellings in the dead of night. "These dispositions in the population generally, inflamed by the* ardour and urged by the force of southern passions, were sublimed to a pitch, to which the more temperate people of the north were strangers." Many anecdotes might be multiplied to exemplify this horrid spirit, which the policy of the British was fanning into fiercer activity, but the following one may well suffice. It must be admitted that the republicans too often drew down upon themselves severe reprisals for their intolerant cruelty to the royalists. In the hour of festivity one Brown had indulged himself in indiscriminate censure of the revolutionary party. He had done worse — he had ridiculed them. He was pursued, brought back to Augusta, tried before a committee of surveillance, and sentenced to be tarred and feathered and carted, unless he recanted and took the oath of allegiance required by the administration of Georgia. Brown was a firm man, and resisted with a pertinacity which should have commanded the respect of his persecutors. But the motions of a mob are too precipitate to admit of the intrusion of generous feeling. After undergoing the painful and mortifying penance prescribed by the com- mittee without yielding, it is too true that he was doomed to have his naked feet exposed to a large fire, to subdue his stubborn spirit ; but in vain, and he was at length turned loose by a group of men, who never deemed that the simple Indian trader would soon reappear, an armed and implacable enemy. He first visited the loyalists of Ninety-six, concerted his measures with them, then made his way to St. Augustine, received a colonel's commission, placed himself at the head of a band of desperate refugees, and accompanied Prevost in his irruption into Georgia. His thirst for revenge appeared afterward in- satiable, and besides wantonly hanging many of his prisoners, he subjected the families of the Whigs who were out in service to accumulated sufferings and distresses. It was not long after he was left in command at Augusta by the British general, that Colonel Clarke, with a determined party of the A. D. 1780. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 481 militia, whose families he had persecuted, aimed a well-directed blow at his chap. post. But Brown proved himself a man of bravery and conduct, and he well knew that at all times he was fighting for his life. After a severe and par- tially successful contest, the approach of a party of Indians obliged Clarke to retreat and leave his wounded behind him, with a letter addressed to Brown, requesting that he would parole them to their plantations. But Brown's thirst for revenge knew no bounds. It had been irritated in this instance by a wound that confined him to his bed. The unhappy prisoners, twenty-eight in number, were all hung ; thirteen of them were suspended to the railing of the staircase, that he might feast his eyes with their dying agonies." The war in the south, with the exception of one or two battles, consisted of a series of skirmishes, surprises, and partisan encounters, carried on with an inconsiderable force on both sides, over a wide extent of unhealthy country, intersected with rivers and marshes, and with a sultry, scorching climate, but displaying as much gallantry, skill, and adventure on both sides, as the oper- ations of a larger army on a more conspicuous field of action. In these " terrible campaigns," as the British officers called them, both armies suffered the extremity of heat, fatigue, and destitution. The patriots, unable to grapple with the superior forces of their enemy, retired into the impenetrable recesses of the swamps and pine barrens, under the leadership of a few heroic spirits called forth by the dreadful emergency. Such men were Generals Marion and Sumpter ; the former a native of South Carolina. He was of small stature and attenuated frame, but capable of almost superhuman endurance, famed for his feats of horsemanship, and, like Claverhouse, he rode a fleet and power- ful charger, so that in pursuit nothing could escape, and when retreating nothing overtake him. " For stratagems," says Caldwell, " unlooked-for en- terprises against the enemy, and devices for concealing his own positions and movements, he had no rival. The tract of country over which he reigned, the trust and safeguard of his friends, the terror of his foes, and the astonish- ment of every one, abounded in thickets, morasses, and swamps. To those deep and dreary solitudes he was often obliged to retreat for safety when severely pressed by an overwhelming force. On these occasions, to pursue him into his fastnesses was as useless as it was dangerous. Never, in a single instance, was he overtaken or discovered in his hiding-place, unless he volun- tarily faced his pursuers, in which case, such was his selection of time and position, as to make victory certain. Even some of his own party, anxious for his safety, and well acquainted with many of the places of his retreat, have sought for him whole days in his immediate neighbourhood, without finding him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, on some distant point, he would again appear, pouncing on his enemy like the falcon on his quarry." Paulding narrates, that " on one occasion a British officer with a flag, pro- posing an exchange of prisoners, was brought blindfold into his camp. The exploits of Marion had made his name now greatly known, and the officer felt no little curiosity to look at this invisible warrior, who was so often felt, but never seen. On removing the bandage from his eyes, he was presented to a 3 a A. D. ] 780. 482 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, man rather below the middle size, very thin in his person, of a dark com- plexion, and withered look. He was dressed in a homespun coat that bore evidence of flood and field, and the rest of his garments were much the worse for wear. " 1 1 came,' said the officer, * with a message for General Marion.' 'I am he,' said Marion, ' and these are my soldiers.' " The officer looked round, and saw a parcel of rough, half-clothed fellows, some roasting sweet potatoes, others resting on their dark muskets, and others asleep with logs for their pillows. " The business being settled, the officer was about to depart, when he was rather ceremoniously invited by Marion to stay and dine. Not seeing any symptoms of dinner, he was inclined to take the invitation in jest ; but on being again pressed, curiosity as well as hunger prompted him to accept. The general then ordered his servant to set the table and serve up dinner ; upon which the man placed a clean piece of pine bark on the ground, and raking the ashes uncovered a quantity of sweet potatoes. These constituted Mari- on's breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, for many a time that he watched the flame of liberty in the swamps of South Carolina. " The soldier of Britain returned to his commander with a serious, nay, sorrowful countenance ; and on being questioned as to the cause, made this remarkable answer — " ' Sir, I have seen an American general, his officers and soldiers serving without pay, without shelter, without clothing, without any other food than roots and water — and they are enduring all these for liberty ! What chance have we of subduing a country with such men for her defenders ?' It is said he soon after threw up his commission and retired from the service, either in consequence of a change in his feelings, or of hopelessness in the success of the cause in which he had engaged." The loyalists of North Carolina were anxious to join the victorious English, but Cornwallis urged them to gather their crops and remain quiet until the autumn, when he would march to their assistance. Unwilling to wait, two large bodies put themselves in motion, but one only succeeded in its design, the other being attacked and routed. Meanwhile, such forces as Washington could venture to detach were on their way to the south under the command of Baron de Kalb. Their progress was toilsome and difficult, and they could only subsist by stray cattle caught in the woods, and Indian corn from the fields, on their line of march. At length they came to a halt on Deep river, where General Gates soon afterward arrived to assume the command. The name of the conqueror of Saratoga, it was justly supposed, would tend to raise the dejected spirits of the Carolinians. Joined by various bodies of militia, he proceeded across a barren country, where the soldiers had to subsist on un- ripe peaches and green corn, towards Camden, where Cornwallis had placed magazines with a force under the command of Lord Rawdon, who finding matters assuming a serious aspect, drew in his outposts and sent notice of his situation to Charleston. At the approach of the American army the activity A. D. 1780. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 483 of the partisan-chiefs redoubled. Sumpter surprised the British detachments chap. at Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock, while Marion harassed their outposts. Gates's army had now increased to six thousand men, of whom but a fourth, however, were regular troops, and with this inferior force he prepared to assume hostilities. The hopes of the patriots were excited with sanguine expectations of triumph, destined, however, to be speedily and bitterly over- thrown. At the news of Gates's approach, Cornwallis, who had with him but two thousand men, hastened from Charleston. As he could not retreat without surrendering the recent conquests, and was confident in the superiority of his troops over the militia of Gates, with his characteristic decision he determined not to await, but anticipate his attack. On the same night Gates and Cornwallis both left their encampment, the former intending to take up a strong offensive position near Camden, the latter to surprise the Americans ; and, about two in the morning of the 6th of August, the two armies unexpectedly encountered each other in the woods. After a sharp skirmish the British drove in the Americans, but darkness suspended the combat for a while. At dawn, the line having been formed, the battle was renewed. At the first shock the Virginian militia, composing the American left, broke and fled, in spite of all the efforts of Gates to rally them, and left the brunt of the attack to be sustained by the small body of regulars under the brave De Kalb, who, after receiving eleven wounds, fell, mortally wounded. Tarleton now dashed in with his cavalry, and com- pleted the discomfiture. For nearly thirty miles he pursued and cut down the fugitives with unrelenting fury, and the road was strewn with the traces of the routed army. Nine hundred men were killed and as many taken prison- ers, the rest scattered as they were able into the woods ; baggage and artillery fell into the hands of the conquerors. The army of the south was utterly broken up, except the detachment under Sumpter, who had intercepted a con- voy and made two hundred prisoners, but on hearing of the disaster retreated with the utmost speed. Supposing himself out of danger, Sumpter halted to recruit his tired troops, when Tarleton burst into the camp, having carried on the pursuit with such fearful rapidity that half his men broke down upon the road. The convoy and prisoners were recovered ; a large number of the Ame- ricans were slaughtered or captured ; a few, among whom was Sumpter him- self, were fortunate enough to escape into the woods. Indescribable was the panic occasioned by this deplorable rout. The cry of " Gates is defeated " ran like wild-fire through the country, and at the sight of his broken and fugitive legions consternation was depicted upon every countenance. The discomfited general did all in his power to retrieve a loss so fatal to his own reputation; and retreating to Salisbury, and thence to Hillsborough, gradually re-organized his shattered ranks, and, reinforced by small bodies of regulars and militia, again advanced to the south, and took post at Charlotte with the nucleus of another army. But, by a single reverse, he was unjustly deprived of the confidence of Congress, who ordered an 3 Q 2 V. A.D. 171 484 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap, inquiry into his conduct, and required Washington to name his successor. Without a moment's hesitation he appointed General Greene, an officer in whose abilities, fortitude, and integrity, from an intimate experience of them, he had the most entire confidence, to this important and responsible command. On his way to the camp, Greene concerted with the governors of the several States the best measures for furnishing their quotas of troops and supplies, and on the 2nd of December arrived at the head-quarters of the army. Gates received his successor with the greatest magnanimity, frankly communicated all the information in his power, and then set out for the north, never again to appear in the field. " His long and dreary journey," says Johnson, " was a true picture of lost favour and fallen greatness. No eye beamed on him with a cordial welcome, no tongue saluted him in accents of kindness. He was every where met with frowns or indifference, neglectful si- lence or murmured censure. All recollected in him the fugitive from Camden ; no one recognised the victor of Saratoga." Yet his wounded feelings were somewhat soothed by an address from the Virginia legislature, assuring him " that the remembrance of his former glorious services could not be obliterated by any reverse of fortune." Cornwallis, immediately after his victory at Camden, would willingly have profited by the terror of his arms to carry the war into North Carolina, but the oppressive heat of the season and his want of adequate supplies compelled him reluctantly to return to Charleston. Here he followed up his victory by measures calculated to strike terror into the ranks of the republicans. Such of the militia as, having once submitted, were again found in arms were hanged without mercy, and the property of those who had a second time been found assisting the rebels was confiscated. Several of the principal inhabitants of Charleston, accused of violating the parole given at the surrender by cor- responding with the enemy, were sent prisoners to St. Augustine. Such pro- ceedings might indeed for a while quell the spirit of active revolt, but only by deepening the detestation of the conquered, and inspiring them with the determination to rise and turn upon their oppressors at the first propitious moment. Having, by the beginning of October, completed his preparations for marching into North Carolina, Cornwallis advanced with his main army towards Charlotte, detaching Tarleton with his cavalry up the west bank of the Catawba, and Major Ferguson, an able and resolute officer, by a more westerly route, along the eastern foot of the mountains. A principal object of this detachment was to organize the loyalists in that quarter, who, on joining the British standard, committed the most atrocious outrages upon the repub- licans. A terrible retribution awaited them. A large body of backwoodsmen from Tennessee and Kentucky, all daring and determined men, mounted and armed with rifles, which they handled with unerring precision, proceeded in quest of Ferguson. Carrying their provisions and blankets on their backs, they kept up the chase with such vigour that in thirty-six hours they dismounted but twice. On the 9th of October they overtook Ferguson, V. a i). 1; HISTORY OF AMERICA. 485 who had retired to the top of a bold and woody eminence called King's chap. mountain. Forming in several columns they climbed the rugged ascent, and posting themselves behind rocks and trees, kept up a galling fire upon the royalists. Whenever they ventured to advance they were fiercely driven back by the bayonet, but only to renew the deadly conflict from behind their covert. At length Ferguson, who had in vain been sum- moned to surrender, fell, sword in hand, mortally wounded, and the re- mainder, their spirit broken, were compelled to throw down their arms. Ten of the more obnoxious loyalists were hung on the spot in retalia- tion for their recent outrages, adding to that spirit of mutual revenge which, as Greene said in his despatches, " threatened to depopulate the country." This affair, which greatly raised the drooping spirits of the patriots, proved also an important check to Cornwallis, who, deprived of the co-operation of Ferguson, was compelled to make a retrograde move. It had also the effect of paralysing the movements of an auxiliary force of three thousand men under General Leslie, which had entered the Elizabeth river and taken post at Portsmouth, in order to co-operate in the attack against North Carolina. Considering himself now unsafe, Leslie returned to Charleston to effect a junc- tion with Cornwallis. Marion and Sumpter also redoubled their activity, but were kept in check by Tarleton and his cavalry. With his usual celerity he pursued Sumpter to a strong position at Blackstock-Hill, and attacked him with great impetuosity, but was repulsed with considerable loss. Sumpter, severely wounded and unable to resume the command, was carried by his faithful followers into a secure retreat. With these operations in South Carolina came to a close the year seventeen hundred and eighty. The royal generals had displayed consummate ability and vigour, all the strongholds of the country were in their hands, and they had a force at their disposal sufficient to maintain these conquests. But no- thing could be more precarious than a military occupation of this sort ; — a country may be indeed overrun, but cannot be long held, where the spirit of freedom is intrenched in the hearts of its citizens. Depressed and exhausted by the bloody struggle, the embers of resistance were not quenched. Vir- ginia and North Carolina were sending such assistance as they were able to-* spare, and the master-mind of Greene, unappalled at the greatness of his task, was occupied in organizing a new army, and meditating upon the best tactics to protract the struggle and weary out a powerful and victorious adversary. For the sake of clearness, we have narrated continuously those events in the south, which were spread over the entire course of the year. We must now turn our attention to the northern States, where, during this interval, occurrences of the most momentous interest had also taken place. At the opening of the season Washington's forces, at Middlebrook and the Highlands, were still occupied in watching those of the enemy at New 486 HISTORY OF AMERICA. citap. York. The condition of the army, in spite of every effort, still continued to A D 1780t be deplorable. It was now that the distresses, which all the exertions of Congress failed to relieve, called forth the patriotic exertions of the ladies of Philadelphia. All ranks and classes took a share in this good work. Mrs. Reed, the wife of General Reed, became the head of an association for sup- plying the poor soldiers with a stock of raiment. Mrs. Bache, the daughter of Dr. Franklin, took also a zealous part in this labour of love and mercy. La Fayette, in the name of his wife, presented the society with a hundred guineas in specie, and the Countess de Luzerne also subscribed generously. Many disposed of their trinkets and ornaments, and those who had no money to spare exerted themselves no less effectively by cutting out and making up linen for the ragged and shivering defenders of their country. Twenty-two hundred shirts were thus forwarded to Washington's camp, an offering which not only greatly mitigated the sufferings of the troops, but by convincing them that they were not forgotten by their grateful countrywomen, tended to comfort and sustain them under the privations to which they were inevitably exposed. Before the end of April La Fayette arrived from France, with the joyful intelligence that the French government had fitted out an armament, the ar- rival of which might shortly be expected. So urgent was the enthusiastic marquis, that he had prevailed on the king to send over a body of land forces to act in concert with the republican troops. Such was his importunity, that the French minister said one day in council, " It is fortunate for the king that Lafayette does not take it into his head to strip Versailles of his furniture to send to his dear Americans, as his Majesty would be unable to refuse it." Not content with these public succours, he generously expended large sums of his private fortune in providing swords and appointments for the corps placed under his command.' While the French troops were anxiously expected, Sir Henry Clinton re- turned from his successful attack on Charleston, and General Knyphausen was sent on an expedition into the Jerseys, its object being, as was sup- posed, to withdraw Washington from his encampment in that direction, while a strong body was sent up the Hudson to besiege West Point and the other posts on the Highlands. If such was indeed its purpose, it proved un- successful, and the militia of the country coming forward with spirit, the in- vaders were soon compelled to retire. Thus harassed and repelled, the British and Hessian troops committed the same ravages which had signalized the incursion of Tryon. At Connecticut Farms they burned the Presbyterian church and a considerable part of the village. Too often, during this unhappy struggle, the American women had to bear their full share of the miseries of civil war, and by their heroic endurance sustained the courage of their husbands, sons, and brothers. " The traditions of our revolution," to use the words of Paulding, " abound in the most affecting instances of female courage and patriotism, such as posterity will do well to imitate, should the time ever again arrive for such sacrifices. Often did they suffer their houses to be burnt over their heads, their persons to be insulted, and their lives to hang A. D. 1780. HISTORY OF AMERICA. 487 by a single hair on the ferocious mercy of a drunken soldier, rather than be- chap. tray the haunts of their defenders, or give the least item of information that might be serviceable to the enemy." On this occasion a tragedy occurred which inspired the deepest indignation all over the States. Mrs. Caldwell, wife of a clergyman well known for his enthusiastic devotion to his country's cause, had retired with her children into a room with only one window, to avoid any chance shots in case a skirmish should happen. No engagement however took place, and the unfortunate lady, unsuspicious of danger, was seated on a bed with her little child by the hand, and her nurse with an in- fant by her side, when a soldier stole round to the window, and deliberately levelling his piece, killed her at a single shot. By acts like these the British and their confederates destroyed even the faintest chance of the restoration of the royal authority, and excited in the minds of the people an unconquerable resolution never to lay down their arms till the detested invaders were ex- pelled the soil. On the 10th of July a French fleet arrived at Newport, commanded by the Chevalier de Ternay, and the troops by the Count de Rochambeau. As ex- perience had shown that much jealousy existed between the French and Americans, it had been wisely decided that the whole army should be placed under the orders of "Washington, and that the American officers should take precedence of the French when of equal rank, — an arrangement which obvi- ated the heart-burnings and contentions that would otherwise have inevitably occurred. It was now the first wish of Washington to carry out his long- cherished idea of an attack upon New York by the combined forces, and a plan to that effect was drawn up and conveyed by La Fayette to the French commander. The French troops were to march from Newport to Washing- ton's old quarters at Morrisiana, where the Americans would form a junction with them. This arrangement, however, supposed the superiority of the French naval force over that of the British, and this was entirely disconcerted by the speedy arrival of Admiral Graves with reinforcements for the English fleet. The latter, now superior in force, blockaded the French in Newport, while Sir Henry Clinton left New York with a large force to attack the French and Americans. Finding, however, that their force was largely in- creased by the neighbouring militia, and fearing lest Washington might fall upon New York during his absence, he speedily returned to that city. _ Thus was the co-operation of the French and Americans again destined to become, for the present, abortive. Nothing could be done until the arrival of Count de Guichen from the West Indies with his fleet, or that of a fleet pre- paring to set out from Brest. The former, however, returned to France with- out visiting the anxious Americans, and the latter, blockaded by a British squadron, was unable to repair to their assistance. The gloom and disappointment thus occasioned was infinitely deepened by the discovery of an act of treachery, which, had it proved successful, as, but for circumstances apparently trivial, it would have done, would have struck a deadly, perhaps a fatal, blow at the cause for which America was struggling. 488 HISTORY OF AMERICA. chap. The works at West Point had now been carried to completion, and it was A