* \ ) ( ! ' 7 < foMJLhI * J YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY /^^. CL -~) CL. THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY DISTINGUISHED AMERICANS: BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. SUPPLEMENTARY VOLUME R. E. PETERSON & CO.'S EDITION. In every age and nation distinguished for arts and learning, the inclination of transmitting tbe memory and even the features of illustrious persons to posterity, has uniformly prevailed. The greatest poets, oratorSj and historians, were contemporaries with the most celebrated painters, statuaries, and engravers of gems and medals ; and the desire to be acquainted with a man's aspect, has ever risen in proportion to the known excellence of his character, and the admiration of hia writings. — Ghanqer. PHILADELPHIA: RICE, RUTTER & CO., 525 MINOR ST. 1867. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the yeu* 1866, by RICE, RUTTER k CO.. In the CIork*s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. CONTENTS. Abraham Lincoln, Sixteenth President of the United States. Ulysses S. Grant, General, United States Army. David G. Farragut, Admiral, United States Navy. Thos. H. Benton, United States Senator. Andrew H. Foote, Admiral, United States Navy. Andrew Johnson, Seventeenth President of the United States. George G. Meade, Major General, United States Army. William T. Sherman, Lieutenant General, United States Army. Oliver 0. Howard, Major General, United States Army. Philip H. Sheridan, Major General, United States Army. Zachary Taylor, Twelfth President of the United States. William H. Prescott, Historian. Millard Fillmore, Thirteenth President of the United States. Franklin Pierce, Fourteenth President of the United States. George M. Dallas, Vice President of the United States. Daniel D. Tompkins, Vice President of the United States. William Gaston, Judge ofthe Supreme Court of North Cirolina. William R, Davie, Major General and Governor of North Carolina. Ldther Martin, Attorney General, Maryland. Philip Syng Physick, M.D., Professor of the University of Penna Edward Shippen, Chief Justice of Pennsylvania. Otho H. Williams, Adjutant General of the Continental Army. Theodric R. Beck, M.D., Author of Medical Jurisprudence, &e. Joseph Habersham, Postmaster General, &e. Simon Ki^^ton, Brigadier General, Pioneer of the West. Jared Sparks, L.L.D., Historian. James Buchanan, Fifteenth President of the United States. Abbott Lawrence, Minister to England. The following new and beautiful portraits will be found in this volume : Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, Wineield Scott, Lewis Cass, J. Fenimore Cooper, 0. H. Perry, Joseph Story. For early portraits of the same, and biographies, refer to preceding volumes. ABMAMAM ILEM© ©ILMo rcdaflcnrdingtoActof i;DngreaamUie70Brl86S,l>jFRice.Riitt,;riCo.mlhedoAE office of the dialnct courLrftiielBiiteii StaUs id and ftethe eastern dislnct of ftnnsyavania. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. The American Republic, in passing through a period of civil war, has given to History a new group of immortal names. The men and events of this era are illumined with a perennial light, and will stand out in heroic proportions for all time. They will have in. the future a classic grandeur, whieh will make all con- temporaiy biographies and histories appear tame and unworthy. Our eyes are too near the great picture, and we take in at one gaze too limited a portion of the whole, to be impressed with its full effect. "We lose its proper inspiration while too intently fixing our view on disconnected parts. Yet we must, as con temporaries with no vantage-ground of distance, study the great subject in its details, preparing the way for a broader and truer appreciation. Clearly, the centi-al figure of all, and that on which all other agents and their acts to a certain extent depend, is to be found in the person of Mm who was at the head of our national affairs from the actual outbreak of the great rebellion until its substantial suppression. Abraham Lincoln was born on the 12th day of February, . 1809. His birth-place is in Larue county, in the State of Ken tucky, near the town of ilodgenviUe, on Nolin creek, a tributary of Green river. His grandfather, after whom he was named, emigrated to Kentucky, then a part of the State of Virginia, from the county of Eockingham, in the Shenandoah valley, afterwards to become so noted as the scene of battles and strategy. He was a contemporary with Boone, Harrod, and Kenton, having entered five hundred acres of land on Licking creek, in 1782, adjoining lands of the hardy pioneer first named. A year or two later, while at work on his new possession, the ancestral Abraham Lincoln was murdered by an Indian, who had stealthily come upon him when unsuspecting of danger. Was it not a strange foreshadow on the dial of time ? Of the group of young children thus suddenly made fatherless, three were sons, of whom the youngest was Thomas, a lad but six 1 :NATI01^AL PORTRAITS. years old. The widowed mother, struggling on as best she might in that wild and lonesome world, raised them all to maturity. Better days no doubt came, before the hardy boy passed through the period of youth and assumed the responsi bilities of manhood, yet he was trained in the school of trials — of books knowing but little, and learning to write only his own name, in a mechanical way. Thomas Lincoln reached the age of twenty-eight years before his marriage, which took place in 1806. His wife, whose maiden name was Ifancy Hanks, was a native of Virginia, like himself, who had removed from the Shenandoah valley in early childhood, with his father. Of her parents nothing is known ; but they appear never to have visited Kentucky — she having probably gone thither with a brother or sister. On his marriage, Thomas Lincoln settled on a farm near what was then plain Hodgen's Mills, on ITolin creek, seven or eight miles from Elizabethtown. His oldest child was a daughter, who arrived at mature years, but died soon after her marriage, leaving no descendant. Abraham Lincoln was two years younger, born on the day already mentioned. The youngest and only other child was a son who died in early childhood. Thus Abraham became ere long the sole representative of his family. His uncles, Mordecai and Josiah, early settled in Indiana, the one in Harrison, the other in Hancock county, where it is not known that they left any descendants. Thomas Lincoln, thriving but indifferently in his first location, took another farm in the same county, where fortune proved still unpropitious. The family had a good repute for native ability, _but made small advance, as yet, in worldly prosperity. In the autumn of 1816, when Abraham Lincoln was a lad of only seven years, his father determined on another remove — this time into the new territory of Indiana, of which his older brothers had no doubt given a good report. He chose a locality by himself, however, in what was then Perry county, not far from Gentryville, on the west side of Anderson creek, soon after falling within the new county of Spencer. His farm was not remote from the Ohio river, fast becoming a great thorough fare, with its own peculiar world, at first of flat-boats, holding- correspondence with the Mississippi river and New Orleans — afterwards to be outrun or displaced by more elaborate and stately craft. Here the lad remained with his father — pas.siiio- ABRAHAM LINCOLN. # through the period of early youth — during the next thirteen years. In 1818 his mother died, when he was but nine years old, a loss which gave deeper sadness to a boyhood on which there had never rested too gladsome a light. He was beginning to take part in the serious labor of the farm, and during the succeeding years passed in Indiana, he learned the use of the axe, in clearing the forests — for the new home was in a heavily wooded region, not on the prairie — aud became accustomed to hold the plough, or to drive the team of oxen on its various errands. His schooling had not been altogether neglected, even before the removal from Kentucky. He- received further rudimentary instruction from two or three different teachers in Indiana. As there were then no i^ublic schools. in either State, private schoolmasters were necessarily employed for a family or a neighborhood, for such period as the means or inclination of parents permitted. Abraham Lincoln was probably quite as highly favored in this respect as was usual with those about him, having received in all, perhaps, the amount of one year's tuition. In addition, he was studious at home, acquiring an earnest love for reading, restricted in its indulgence only by the limited number of Books at his command. He was early interested in a collection of ^sop's Fables, illustrated by plain wood-cuts, from which book he derived many lessons of prac tical wisdom, and a fondness for the enforcement of a principle or the intimation of an opinion, by some quaint or humorous incident — lessons and a taste which he retained through life. Another book which he read during these years, the Life of Washington, made a lasting impression on his mind, giving it an early bent which perhaps determined his future course, if it did not awaken aspirations for public honors. The intensity and permanence of the effect of books upon a, really eager, youthful reader, are ordinarily increased in proportion to the limitation of their number. In this instance the range was very small. The community around Hodgenville had early had an organ ized Baptist church, though, prior to 1816, no place of worship had been built. The same denomination had a rude church edifice not far from the new home selected by Mr. Lincoln's father in Indiana. In both States, the family worshipped with this sect, and Abraham Lincoln's early religious training, like that of Henry Clay, was under its influences. The Bible was NATIONAL PORTRAITS. a book which he constantly read, at the earlier no less than the later periods of his life. From a desire to see more of the world, perhaps stimulated by stories of adventure related by boatmen whom he casually met, in his visits to the Ohio river at Troy, the nearest landing to his home, he made a trip to New Orleans^and back, when at the age of nineteen, by the slow conveyance of an ordinary flat-boat, on which he "worked his passage." It was a long voyage, full of novelties, if not of exciting incidents, and his first acquaintance with the Father of Waters and with the great mart of the Southwest, afforded new and valuable lessons to his impressible mind. In 1830, being now of age, Abraham Lincoln removed with his father to Illinois, and aided him in enclosing part of a new farm, on the Sangamon river, with rail fence, giving rise to the popular notion concerning his special exploits as a rail-splitter. The farm was occupied by his father but for a year, when they both turned 'in new directions — the father making his last settlement in Coles county, farther eastward, while the son undertook a second flat-boating expedition, by the Sangamon and Illinois rivers to the Mississippi, and thence to New Orleans. After his return, he was employed for a time in a country store at New Salem, in Menard county, where he was appointed Postmaster, under the administration of President Jackson, though known to be a political supporter of Henry Clay. It was after remaining a year or more in this position, that he enlisted in a company raised in 1832 for service iu what is known as the Black Hawk war. He was chosen captain of the company, by a very flattering vote — an honor which he highly appreciated. He was out for about three months, without hap pening, however, to be in any actual engagement. Mr. Lincoln's fii'st experience as a candidate for a political oflice was at the State election in Illinois, in August, 1832, when twenty-three years of age, and just after his return from the Black Hawk war. He had as yet become but little known beyond the immediate vicinity of his residence, which gave him a nearly unanimous vote for Representative in the State Legislature. In other parts of the district, however, his name was scarcely at all presented, and he was not elected — a fact which did not detract from the "gratifying result in his own township, where the partisan majority was decidedly against ABRAHAM LINCOLN. him. He received two hundred and seventy-seven out of the entire two hundred and eighty-four votes cast, while Jackson, a little later in the same year, received a majority of more than one hundred and fifty over Clay. Two years afterwards, Mr. Lincoln was chosen Representative, receiving about two hun dred more votes than any of his associates on the same general ticket. He was re-elected in 1836 — the term being two years — and during the sessions of that and the following year, he came to be regarded as a leader on the Whig side of the House, then decidedly in the minority. In 1838 he was again re-elected; and the House was now more equally divided between the two parties. Mr. Lincoln was selected by the Whigs as their candidate for Speaker, and was beaten by his Democratic com petitor on the fourth ballot, who received one majority. During these years of service in the Legislature, Mr. Lin coln had been engaged, first as a surveyor, at the same time pursuing the study of law, and afterwards, having been duly admitted to the bar, in the practice of the legal profession. In the Spring of 1837 he removed to Springfield, to which place the State Capital, by an act of the Legislature already passed, was to be transferred two or three years later. For the fourth time he was elected to the Legislature, in which, as before, he was the acknowledged leader on the Whig side, and the party candidate for Speaker of the House. This was in 1840, and the last election he was willing to accept as a member of the State Legislature. During the comparatively long period of his continuance in that body, he effectively aided in shaping a liberal policy of internal improvements for his State, and in furthering the development of its ample resources. The discussions which had arisen in the North on the subject of Slavery, and the violent attempts to suppress this agitation, which had resulted in the death of Lovejoy at Alton, Illinois, began to cast a shadow over the general politics of that State, before the close of Mr. Lincoln's legislative service. In 1837 the dominant party in the Legislature passed resolutions on this subject, of a radical Southern character, and the effort was made to affix the odium of "Abolitionism" on all who refused to sustain this ultra Pro-Slavery action. Mr. Lincoln, one other representative from Sangamon county joining him, on the 3d of March, 1837, caused a protest against these resolutions to be entered on the journal of the House, in the course of 5 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. which they said : " They beheve that the institution of slavery is founded on both injustice and bad policy ; but that the pro mulgation of Abolition doctrines tends rather to increase than abate its evils. They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power, under the jDonstitntion, to interfere with the institution of slavery in the different States. They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power, under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia; but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at the request of the people of said District." At that day, Mr. Lin coln can have little imagined how prominent and controlling a question this was to be in our subsequent political history, and least of all the leading part he was to take, as an instrument in the removal of the great evil then so firmly seated in the country. For the twelve years succeeding his admission to the bar in 1836, his attention was engrossingly devoted to his chosen pro fession of the law. By gradual but sure advancement, he was making his way, during this period, to the highest, rank among the counsellors and advocates of the West. He had a clear, logical mind, quick to apprehend the cardinal points of his case, tenacious of the facts and principles on which the issue turned, eminently fair and honorable in dealing with his oppo nents, and assiduous in doing his whole duty to whatever client he attempted to serve. He had great influence over the minds of jurors, by the perspicuity and vigor of his statements, the candid and earnest manner of his arguments, and the native humor and simplicity of his illustrations. Before the higher courts, his power was scarcely less manifest in the treatment of purely legal questions, his propositions and his mode of ex pounding them having a convincing weight and force with the more enlightened judges. He was a man of diligent and thorough research in the matters pertaining to his profession, and he derived illustrations for his work, as well as a breadth of view, a maturity of judgment, and a general cultivation, no less in extended and various reading, than in his close observa tion of men and life. He was a favorite among his associates at the bar, towards whom his deportment was uniformly kind and courteous, and to whom his presence was always an inex haustible source of social pleasure and good feeling. His arrival at any county-seat, in court time, came to be a marked ABRAHAM LINCOLN. event, and his coming was always cordially welcomed. He had a rare success in winning the affections of those with. whom he came in contact, even his warmest political adversaries mani festing a sincere appreciation of the high capacity of his mind and of the great excellence of his heart. Had he never been known outside of his character of| advocate aud jurist, he would have attained to a lasting fame among the greatest men of the .Northwest. His public connection with politics, during tli^eae years, was limited to a few brief episodes, until, in the natural course of events, he was chosen to represent his district in the Congress of the United States. In 1844, after the nomination of Henry Clay by acclamation, at Baltimore, as the Whig candidate for the Presidency, Mr. Lincoln accepted a nomination for Presi dential Elector, involving, according to custom in the West, an active canvass in behalf of his candidate. Ever more ready to labor for others than careful to study his own immediate interests, and earnestly devoted as he had been all his lifetime to the personal fortunes and political maxims of Clay, Mr. Lincoln willingly gave up a season's labor to the cause. After numerous public addresses to large audiences in different parts of his own State, he accepted an invitation to cross the Wabash and to make a series of speeches in the more hopeful arena of Indiana, where his successful services were long gratefully reinembered. A dark foreshadowing of evil from the election of Mr. Polk, the annexation of Texas, and the direct conse quences, strongly impressed his far-reaching and prescient mind. Almost unconsciously, still, as when his modest protest was entered on the Journal of the Illinois House of Representa^ tives, and in spite of his conservative tendencies, slavery seemed to be more and more intertwining itself with his own and his country's destiny. He dreaded a multiplication of the dark threads in the fateful web, while deprecating any attempts vio lently to tear out those already interwoven. But his efforts were bafl&ed. The result of the election for a time seemed closely balanced, not without the hope of a flnal inclination to the side of his anticipations. At last, came the decisive news. Clay was beaten. It was a painful disappointment. To him, it was not a personal but a national misfortune. Without despondency, however, he continued his proper professional work, assiduously and steadfastly, as before. NATIONAL PORTRAITS Mr. Lincoln was married on the 4th of November, 1842, to Miss Mary Todd, one of four daughters of the Hon. Robert S. Todd, of Lexington, Kentucky, the eldest of whom had pre viously married and settled in Springfield. The Wo younger sisters, subsequently married, became residents of the same place. Mr. Lincoln had ever the warmest attachment for his family and home. His wife, in turn, by her constant sympathy and counsel, and perhaps by words of hopeful aspiration, aided his advancement while ministering to the happiness of the domestic circle. Of the four sons born to them, it may be mentioned here, only the oldest and the youngest survive — Robert T., bearing the name of his maternal grandfather, and Thomas (familiarly called "Tad"), named after his paternal grandfather. In 1846, Mr. Lincoln was chosen as a Representative in Con gress. The district in which he resided had given Mr. Clay less than 1,000 majority in 1844. Two years later, it gave Mr. Lincoln over 1,500 majority for Member of Congress. A com parison of this vote with any other cast in the district, before or since, while comprising the same territory, will conclusively prove his personal popularity. It was an eventful period of national history. Texas had been annexed. The war with Mexico was going on. The decided Democratic majority in both Houses of Congress, at the opening of Mr. Polk's Admin istration, had now to give place to an opposition (Whig) majo rity in the House of Representatives, with a Senate no longer able to command a partisan two-thirds vote for the Administra tion. Among the more distinguished members of this House were, John Quincy Adams (who died during its first session), Jacob Collamer and George P. Marsh, of Vermont, Joseph R. IngersoU of Pennsylvania, Samuel F. Vinton of Ohio, Caleb B. Smith of Indiana, John M. Botts of Virginia, A. H. Stephens and Robert Toombs of Georgia, and M. P. Gentry of Tennes see, on the Whig side ; and David Wilmot of Pennsylvania, R. B. Rhett of South Carolina, Howell Cobb of Georgia, Linn Boyd of Kentucky, Andrew Johnson of Tennessee, James McDowell of Virginia, and Jacob Thompson of Mis'sissippi. In the Senate were such statesmen as Daniel Webster John C. Calhoun, Thomas H. Benton, John M. Clayton, John Bell' Hannibal Hamlin, William L. Dayton, S. S. Phelps, Thomas Corwin, William R. King, and John M. Berrien. For some ABRAHAM LINCOLN. time previously Stephen A. Douglas — who had gone to Illinois (from Vermont), a year or two later than Mr. Lincoln, and who was elected to the Illinois Legislature, for the first and only time, when Mr. Lincoln received his second election — had been a member of the lower branch of Congress. He now first took his seat in the Senate. The one had come to be the recog nized leader of the Whig party in Illinois, before the other had gained the like position in the Democratic party. Mr. Lincoln was in his thirty-ninth year when, on the 6th of De cember, 1847, he first took his seat in the National House of Representatives. While disapproving many of the acts of the Administration in regard to the Mexican war, and particularly as to the mode of its inception, Mr. Lincoln gave a hearty support to all essential war measures — sometimes breaking away from the majority of big oWn party, in his independent action on this question. This was true with regard to a resolution, intro duced on the 3d of January, 1848, instructing the Committee on Military Affairs to inquire into the expediency of " requesting the President of the United States to withdraw to the east bank of the Rio Grande our armies now in Mexico, and to propose to the Mexican government a treaty of peace," on certain speci fied terms, nearly equivalent to an admission of the injustice of the war. Mr. Lincoln voted with the minority in favor of laying the resolution on the table, and against the resolution on a direct vote. He also unhesitatingly voted for the supplies called for by the War Department to sustain our armies, and for expressions of thanks to our officers and men for their gal lant services rendered in Mexico. His first speech in Congress was made on the 12th of January, 1848, in opposition to Presi dent Polk's views, as presented in his annual message, regarding the origin of the war. After referring to certain questions before proposed with regard to the jurisdiction within which our forces were at the commencement of hostilities, Mr. Lin coln proceeded : " Let him answer, fully, fairly, candidly. Let him answer with facts and not with arguments. Let him remember he sits where Washington sat; and, so remembering, let him answer as Washington would answer. As a nation should not, and the Almighty will not, be evaded, so let him attempt no evasion, no equivocation. And if, so answering, he can sho-w^ that the soil was ours where the first 1 lood of the 9 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. war w^as shed — that it was not within an inhabited country, or, if within such, that the inhabitants had submitted themselves to the civil authority of Texas, or of the United States, and that the same is true of the site of Fort Brown — then I am with him for his justification." In the Legislature of Illinois, and in his addresses to the people, Mr. Lincoln had been an earnest advocate for a liberal system of internal improvements — in the State, by the con struction or encouragement of important public works, and in the nation, by facilitating navigation on the great rivers of the country, and by giving increased value to the harbors on our coast. On the 20th of June, 1848, he made au extended speech on this subject, in Congress, in review of a message of President Polk, vetoing a bill making appropriations for certain improve ments. The objections raised, including the constitutional question, were fairly met with clear argument, his speech being rather marked by its candor of statement and force of logic, than by eloquence or graces of style. " That the subject is a difficult one," he said, near the close of his remarks, "cannot be denied. Still, it is no more difficult in Congress than in the State Legislatures, in the counties, or in the smallest municipal districts which everywhere exist. All can recur to instances of this difficulty in the case of county roads, bridges, and the like. One man is offended because a road passes over his land; and another is offended because it does not pass over his ; one is dissatisfied because the bridge, for which he is taxed, crosses the river on a different road frdm that which leads from his house to town ; another cannot bear that the county should get in debt for these same roads and bridges ; while not a few struggle hard to have roads located over their lands, and then stoutly refuse to let them be opened, until they are first paid the damages. Even between the different wards and streets of towns and cities, we find this same wrangling and difficulty. Now, these are no other than the very difficulties against which, and out of which, the President constructs his objections of ' inequality,' ' speculation,' and ' crushing the Treasury.' There is but a single alternative about them — they are sufficient or they are not. If sufficient, they are sufficient out of Congress as well as in it, and there is the end. We must reject them as insufficient, or lie down and do nothing by any authority. Then, difficulty though there be, let us meet and overcome it 10 ABRAHAM LDTCOLN. ' Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt ; Nothing so hard, but search will iind it out.' Determine that the thing can be done, and then we shall find the way." Mr. Lincoln delivered another speech in the House of Repre sentatives, on the 27th of July, 1848 — the session having been prolonged until the 14th of August, long after the presidential nominations of that year had been made — ^his subject on this occasion being the main issues of the canvass, and the relative merits' of the candidates. Gen. Taylor and Mr. Cass. On the constantly recurring question concerning the restriction of slavery — on which a third party had this year been organized at Buffalo, with Martin Van Buren for its presidential candi date — Mr. Lincoln spoke as follows: "I am a Northern man, or, rather, a Western Free-State man, with a constituency I believe to be, and with personal feelings I know to be, against the extension of slavery. As such, and with what information I have, I hope and believe. Gen. Taylor, if elected, would not veto the [Wilmot] proviso ; but I do not Jcnow it. Yet, if I knew he would, I still would vote for him. I should do so, because, in my judgment, his election alone can defeat Gen. Cass ; and because, should slavery thereby go into the territory we now have, just so much will certainly happen by the election of Cass; and, in addition, a course of policy leading to new wars, new acquisitions of territory, and still further extensions of slavery." To the charge that the Whig party had "always opposed" the war with Mexico, he replied, after re-affirming the opinion that it was "unnecessarily and unconstitutionally" begun by President Polk : " But if, when the war had begun, and had become the cause of the country, the giving of our money and our blood, in common with yours, was support of the war, then it is not true that we have always opposed the war. With few individual exceptions, you have constantly had our votes here for all the necessaiy supplies. And, more than this, you have had the services, the blood, and the lives of our political brethren in every trial, and on every field. The beardless boy and the mature man, the humble and the distin guished — you have had them. Through suffering and death, by disease and in battle, they have endured, and fought, and fallen with you. Clay and Webster each gave a son, never to be returned. From the State of my own residence, besides 11 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. other worthy but less known Whig names, we sent Marshall, Morrison, Baker, and Hardin; they all fought, and one fell, and in the fall of that one, we lost our best Whig man. Nor were the Whigs few in number, or laggard in the day of danger. In that fearful, bloody, breathless struggle at Buena Vista, where each man's hard task was to beat back five foes, or die himself, of the five high officers who perished, four were Whigs." After the adjournment of Congress, Mr. Lincoln took an active part in the presidential canvass, first visiting New Eng land, on invitation, but giving most of his time to the North west, where Mr. Cass was especially strong. The result partly compensated for the disappointment experienced four years before. Mr. Lincoln himself had declined a re-election to Con gress, but his district gave to Gen. Taylor nearly the same majority (over 1500) that the former had received two .years earlier. The short session of the following winter is chiefly memorable for the attempts made, on the one hand, to suppress the slave-trade in the District of Columbia, and for the sugges tion (by Mr. Lincoln himself) of a plan of gradual emancipation in the District, with the consent of its citizens; and, on the other hand, to secure some legislation "more effectually to enable owners to recover their slaves escaping from one State into another." Thus two of the questions which were promi nently to enter into the discussions of the next succeeding Congress, and become elements of the compromise measures of 1850, were already engrossing attention. Mr. Lincoln's action in regard to them was accordant with his anti-slavery convictions, though not favorable to violent and immediate change. He retired again to private life, with a reputation perhaps rarely attained by any man, in a service in Congress limited to one term ; and the more striking from the number of distinguished political leaders who were his associates in the House. The five years following his retirement from Congress were years of professional activity and success, little interrupted by participation in the excited political affairs of that period. Already the country was entering within the penumbra of that great eclipse of the national peace and harmony which was to culminate ten years later. The agitation resulting from the attempt to enlarge the area of slavery, and from the persistent 12 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. opposition to the admission of California into the Union, with the free constitution of her choice, had finally been composed, for the time, by the series of compromise measures passed in 1850. Both the great political parties had accepted those mea sures as a final settlement in the presidential canvass of 1852; and the third party, which had supported Mr. Van Buren four years previously, was dwarfed to unimportant dimensions. The almost unanimous voice of the people, North and South, seemed to be for peace, and for the avoidance of any further excite ment on the question of slavery. This superficial adjustment, however, as the event showed, had brought no permanent healing to the nation. The "era of good feeling" was rather apparent than real, and unexpectedly brief in its duration. The Kansas-Nebraska bill, reported by Mr. Douglas in the Senate, in 1854, was the disturbing cause which re-opened the strife that had been only smothered, not quenched. That bill, which abrogated the pledge made to the North, on the admis sion of Missouri as a Slave State, that slavery should never be permitted within any portion of the territories of the United States north of the parallel of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north latitude, passed the Senate on the 26th of May, 1854, and at once aroused intense indignation everywhere throughout the North. By dint of party discipline and the exe cutive influence of President Pierce, combined with the general recusancy of southern Whigs, insuring a " united South," this act of bad faith and worse expediency was consummated by the concurrence of the House of Representatives. Mr. Lincoln could not remain indifferent at such an hour as this. The Whig party, to which he had been so long attached, was broken up by the conduct of its southern leaders. The Democratic party was rent in twain. Mr. Douglas, returning to his home after the close of the session, met a tempest of disapprobation, and was unable, on his first attempt, even to gain a hearing in Chicago, where he had so lately been the popular favorite. A similar feeling existed in a great portion of the State, though not manifesting itself elsewhere in a refusal to hear his speeches designed to allay the general hosti lity, and to bring back his old friends to his support.' Mr. Lincoln met him in debate on the repeal of the Missouri Com promise, in October, at Springfield, and again at Peoria, on which latter occasion, especially, he made an argument and 13 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. appeal of great power, and roused the hearts of the people to a truer sentiment on the great question now unavoidably be coming; uppermost in the affairs of the nation. As Mr. Lincoln, from this time onward, rose rapidly into the position of a national leader in the cause thus earnestly espoused, some brief passages from his Peoria speech, showing its spirit, are here cited : " Thus, with the author of the Declaration of Independence, the policy of prohibiting slavery in new territory originated; Thus, away back of the Con stitution, in the pure, fresh, free breath of the Revolution, the State of Virginia and the National Congress put that policy in practice. Thus, through more than sixty of the best years of the Republic, did that policy steadily work. to its great and beneficent end. And thus, in those five States, and five millions of free, enterprising people, we have before us the rich fruits of this policy. But now, new light breaks upon ns. Now, Congress declares this ought never to have been, and the like of it must never be again. The sacred right of self- government is grossly violated by it. We even find some men, who drew their first breath, and every other breath of their lives, under this very restriction, now live in dread of absolute suffocation, if they should be restricted in the 'sacred right' of taking slaves to Nebraska. That perfect liberty they sigh for — the liberty of making slaves of other people, — Jefferson never thought of; their own fathers never thought of; they never thought of themselves, a year ago. How fortunate for them they did not sooner become sensible of their great misery ! Oh, how difficult it is to treat with respect such assaults upon all we have ever really held sacred." Of the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, Mr. Lincoln said : "I think, and shall try to show, that it is wrong; wrong in its direct effect, letting slavery into Kansas and Nebraska, and wrong in its prospective prin ciple, allowing it to spread to every other part of the wide world, where men can be found inclined to take it. This declared indifference, but, as I must think, covert real zeal for the spread of slavery, I cannot but hate. I hate it because it deprives our republican example of its just influence in the world; enables the enemies of free institutions with plausibility to taunt us as hypo crites; causes the real friends of freedom to doubt our sincerity; and especially because it forces so many good men among ourselves into an open war with the very fundamental principles of civil liberty, criticising the Declaration of Independence, and insisting that there is no right principle of action but- self- interest." -"The law which forbids the bringing of slaves from Africa, and that which has so long forbidden the taking of them into Nebraska, can hardly be distmguished ou any moral principle ; and the repeal of the former could find quite as plausible excuses as that of the latter." — " After an angry and dangerous controversy, the parties made friends by dividing the bone of con tention. The one party first appropriates his own share, beyond all rower to be disturbed m the possession of it, and then seizes the share of the other party. It is aa if two starving men had divided their only loaf; the one hpj ]4 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. ftastily swallowed his half, and then grabbed the other's half j ast as he was putting it to his mouth." — "Slavery is founded in the selfishness of man's nature — opposition to it, in his love of justice. These principles are in an eternal antagonism; and' when brought into collision so fiercely as slavery extension brings them, shocks, and throes, and convulsions, must ceaselessly follow. Repeal the Missouri Compromise — repeal- all compromise — repeal the Declaration of Independence — repeal all past history — you still cannot repeal human nature. It still will be the abundance of man's heart that slavery extension is wrong ; and out of the abundance of his heart his mouth will continue to speak." — "But 'Nebraska' is urged as a great Union-saving measure. Well, I too go for saving the Union. Much as I hate slavery, I would consent to the extension of it rather than see the Union dissolved, just as I would consent to any great evil to avoid a greater one. But when I go to Union-saving, I must believe, at least, that the means I employ have some adaptation to the end. To my mind, ' Nebraska' has no such adaptation. ' It hath no relish of salvation in it.' It is an aggravation, rather, of the only one thing which ever endangers the Union. When it came upon us, all was peace and quiet. ... It could not but be expected by its author, that it would be looked upon as a measure for the extension of slavery, aggravated by a gross breach of faith.'' In October, 1854, a new party organization (afterwards taking the name of Republican), was formed in Illinois, as had pre viously occurred in other States, comprising most of the old Whig party, the Democrats opposed to the repeal of the Mis souri Compromise, and the Free-Soil party, united on the basis of opposition to any further extension of slavery. Though late in the field, this party gained a substantial triumph in the autumn elections, carrying five out of the nine Congressional districts, and choosing forty members of the lower branch of the State Legislature, to thirty-five Democrats. The State Senate was not gained; but the Democratic strength was so reduced that there was a majority of two, on joint ballot, against the Nebraska Democrats. This result was important from the fact that the Legislature was to elect a United States Senator for the term commencing on the 4th of March, 1855, in place of James Shields. The Anti-Nebraska party generally favored the election of Mr. Lincoln to the Senatorship. It required, however, the votes of certain Democratic Senators, chosen two years earlier, who were reluctant to break away altogether from the party that elected them, though opposed to any candidate favoring the policy of Mr. Douglas. On the first ballot (in February, 1855), Mr. Lincoln led his Democratic opponent, Gen. Shields, four votes. After several ballots, Mr 15 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Lincoln generously withdrew his name, rather than furi;her hazard the result, and his friends gave their votes to Judge Trumbull, an Anti-Nebraska Democrat, who was elected on the tenth ballot. The sacrifice of the hopes entertained of the elevation of Mr. Lincoln to .the position they deemed him so eminently fitted to fill, was a sore personal disappointment to his friends, but it abated nothing from his and their devotion to the cause in which he was still the acknowledged leader. In 18.5,6 the Republican party was fully organized, and in the presidential canvass of that year, Mr. Lincoln took an active pari. His own State elected Col. Bissell, the candidate of both the Republicans and "Americans," to the Governorship; but through a division of the strength of these two parties between Fremont and Fillmore, the electoral vote was given, by a small jjlurality, to Buchanan. The quiet which was for a time anticipated, following the election of Mr. Buchanan, was again disturbed by the same aggressive power which had forced the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The territory of Kansas had been made a de batable ground between freedom and slavery by that repeal, and the struggle had been protracted and violent. At length, it became manifest that the Free-State men were in a decided majority, and that an anti-slavery constitution was demanded by the people of Kansas. Under these circumstances, unscru pulous pro-slavery leaders determined on a scheme of force and fraud, to defeat the very "popular sovereignty" to which they had professedly appealed. They were backed by nearly every Southern Senator and Representative in Congress, and by the active influence of Mr. Buchanan's Administration. A pro- slavery constitution was promulgated at Lecompton, the terri torial capital, which became a by-word of political chicanery and falsehood. No well-informed man doubted the honest sentiment of the .actual residents of the territory to be largely preponderant on the side of a free constitution. So palpably unjust and absurd was the attempt to force a recognition of the Lecompton Constitution, in spite of the known facts of the case, that Mr. Douglas himself, and a large number of Demo crats with him, broke with the Administration on this issue. While this question was as yet undisposed of in Congress — on the 21st of April, 1858 — the friends of Mr. Douglas, secur ing the control of the party machinery in spite of hostile Ad- 16 7«lBRAHAM LINCOLN. ministration influences, nominated a State ticket at Springfield, and endorsed the action of Douglas and his Anti-Lecompton associates. The great stake in the approaching State canvass was the senatorship for six years, to be determined by the Legislature to be chosen in November. Mr. Douglas, with the now powerful Republican organization against him, and the influence of Buchanan's Administration adverse to his re-elec tion, boldly entered the arena, when others would have despaired. On the other hand, the Republicans were now hopeful of securing a Senator of their own faith in his place ; and in their State Convention, held on the 16th of June, they unanimously declared Mr. Lincoln to be their " first and only choice" for that place. In a speech made on that occasion, Mr. Lincoln sounded the key-note of the canvass in these ever memorable words : " We are now far on into tho fifth year, since a' policy was initiated with the avowed object, and confident promise, of putting an end to slavery agitation. Under the operation of that policy, that agitation was not only not ceased, but has constantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease until a crisis shall have been reached and passed. ' A house divided against itself cannot stand.' I believe this Government cannot endure, permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved — I do not expect the house to fall — but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing, or all the other. Either the opponents of slavery will- arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the course of ultimate extinction, or its advocates will push it forward, till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new — North as well as South." The long canvass whieh followed attracted the attention of the whole countiy, the speeches on each side being published at length in the newspapers, and the contest rose into national importance. Collected in a volume, these speeches and debates of Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Douglas, reported by their respective friends and revised by each, have been widely read, finding special favor with the adherents of the former, who were con tent to le^ve both disputants to be judged by their own words. From the close of this canvass, in November, Mr. Lincoln had a national reputation, as one of the chief men of his party. Beaten by a small majority of the legislative vote, through the peculiarities of the representative apportionment, he had a clear majority of the popular vote in Illinois. Mr. Douglas was re-elected, but at the expense of such concessions to the 17 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Bentiments of his opponent and of the people of his State, as lost him forever the compact Democratic strength of the South, in support of his aspirations to the Presidency. The persistent demand of the Northern Democracy for his nomination at Charleston, broke that party in twain, and left a comparatively easy victory to the Republicans. Mr. Lincoln, who had now a profitable practice at the bar, not seriously interrupted by these occasional episodes in poli tics, made two able speeches in Ohio, in September, 1859, and another at Cooper Institute in New York City, on the 27th of February, 1860 — one of the ablest of all his public addresses. At the Republican National Convention, which assembled in Chicago, on tne 16th of May following, he proved to be the favorite candidate of the people for the Presidency, receiving the votes of a majority of the delegates on the third ballot. The Democratic party in the North chiefly supported Mr. Douglas — in the South, Mr. Breckinridge. The canvass was still further complicated, by an "American" nominee, in the person of Mr. Bell of Tennessee. The Southern leaders began now openly to avow their Disunion purposes, in the event of a Republican triumph — on the very issues which they themselves had forced — and all the more earnestly was this determination proclaimed as the election of Mr. Lincoln became more cer tain. This insurrectionary policy, under the guise of Seces sion — supposed to have a greater plausibility than a confessedly direct revolt — had long been maturing. For thirty years, it had been carefully nursed in South Carolina especially, and in 1850 had found an open advocate in Jefferson Davis, then a candidate for Governor of Mississippi. On his State he had already entailed lasting disgrace, by drawing her people into the criminal dishonesty of repudiating her solemn pecuniary obligations. This agitator, in origin as humble as Abraham Lincoln, had come to be the most prominent champion of the aristocratic slaveholding interest, which affected to sneer at the "poor white" of the South, whoiii the people now raised to the highest political power. Mr. Lincoln received the electoral vote of every Free State save New Jersey, which gave him four votes and Mr. Dpuglas three. Mr. Breckinridge had the electoral vote of every Slave- holding State except Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee, which gave majorities for Mr. Bell, and Missouri, which voted for Mr. 18 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Douglas. The aggregate electoral vote for Abraham Lincoln was 180 ; for John C. Breckinridge, 72 ; for John Bell, 39 ; and for Stephen A. Douglas, 12. Every State had participated in the election, and was honorably, no less than legally, bound to abide the result. But many weeks before the electoral votes were officially canvassed, the pretended work of Secession had commenced, and the final organization of a complete revolt of the slaveholding States was pressed to a conclusion. Mr. Bu chanan, while denying the Constitutional right of Secession, had proclaimed, in his December message, his concession that he could do nothing to prevent its consummation. The zeal for involving every Southern State in the rebellion was conse quently quickened, that the three months of his Administration remaining might find this audacious attempt fully recognized. South Carolina, the mother of this heinous plot, led off with an "ordinance of Secession" On the 20th of December, 1860. On the 9th of January, 1861, Mississippi, obedient to the prompting of Jefferson Davis, responded by a similar act. Alabama, Florida and Georgia followed the example in quick succession. Louisiana, by dint of falsehood and fraud, was made to utter a similar voice on the 28th of January. The State of" Texas, at last breaking over the wholesome restraints imposed by Gov. Houston, was added to the roll of Secession on the 1st of February. One after another, in haughty gran deur, the delegations from these several States withdrew from Congress. The rebellion had thus spread through seven States, which, by representatives assembled at Montgomery, Alabama, on the 6th of February, organized a "Southern Confederacy," under a temporary constitution, Negro slavery being its chief corner-stone, with Jefferson Davis for President, and Alexander H. Stephens for Vice President. The spread of the revolt was now apparently arrested for a time, the Confederacy receiving no new accessions from the eight remaining slaveholding States — in which, however, emissaries and agitators were busily at work — during the next two months. Mr. Lincoln was duly inaugurated as President of the United States, on the 4th of March, 1861. His inaugural addr,ess — a production, of rare ability and of ever increasing historic value — breathes, while not wanting in manly firmness, the tenderest spirit of peace, persuasion, entreaty. While calmly stating the obligations he has assumed in taking his official oath, he pro- 19 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. poses the utmost possible concessions within the limits permitted him, and declares that " there need be no bloodshed or violence, and there shall be none, unless it is forced upon the national authority." He argues for peace with impassioned earnest ness : " Physically speaking, we cannot separate ; we cannot remove our respective sections from each other, nor build an impassable wall between them. A husband and wife may be divorced, and go out of the presence and beyond the reach of each other ; but the different parts of our country cannot do this. They cannot but remain face to face ; and intercourse, either amicable or hostile, must continue between them. Is it possible, then, to make that intercourse more advantageous or more satisfactory after separation than before? Can ^liens make treaties easier than friends can make laws ? Can treaties be more faithfully enforced between aliens than laws can among friends? Suppose you go to war, you cannot fight always ; and when, after much loss on both sides, and no gain on either, you cease fighting, the identical questions as to terms of intercourse are again upon you." Words were vain to stay the hot madness of the revolt. Fu tile were the concessions proposed by the Peace Conference, and by the Corwin Amendment to the Constitution, forever prohibiting any interference with slaveiy in the States. Even the Crittenden Compromise, practically surrendering all oppo sition to the extension of slavery, was spurned. Nothing but the impossible concession of Disunion would be listened to by the rebel leaders. Their chief anxiety now was to draw the other slaveholding States into the vortex of their crime. For this end. Fort Sumter was attacked on the 12th of April, and its slender but gallant garrison of United States troops under Anderson was forced, by armed traitors one hundred times greater in number, and by a series of surrounding batteries, to surrender on the 14th. This deed, inaugurating civil war, was less potent in the South than was at first hoped, but it gained four more of the slaveholding States to the Secession cause — Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Arkansas. This was the utmost accession which the Rebellion was to gain., Mary land, Delaware, Kentucky and Missouri could neither be per suaded nor forced into the fatal alliance of crime. This rebel act of war was still more effective in harmonizing the North, which was, for the time, a unit in the support of the Govern- ABRAHAM LINCOLN. ment, sinking all party ties in loyal devotion to the flag of the Union. President Lincoln at once called into the field, by his procla mation of April 15, 1861, an army of 75,000 volunteers. The response was prompt and hearty. Nearly as many more — of volunteers and regulars combined — were called out on the 3(] of May. Men were offered in such numbers, that many regi ments were declined. Congress was assembled in extra session, on the 4th of July, and provided for calling out 500,000 volun teers. A rebel force was meanwhile pushed forward to occupy Manassas Junction, controlling the communications from Wash ington towards Richmond, Lynchburg and the Shenandoah Valley, and menacing the Capital. Alexandria and Arlington Heights were occupied by Government forces on the 24th of May ; an advance was made into Western Virginia from Ohio, on the 26th ; Cairo, Illinois, was garrisoned somewhat earlier ; and about the 1st of June, a loyal army, under Gen. Lyon, was put in the field in Missouri. Thus the long line of operations, stretching from the Potomac to the farther side of the Missis sippi, and the fields of action, during a destructive war no longer avoidable, were indicated in outline. To follow these events will be the work of the historian for ages to come. Even a brief summary would require a volume. Never was war conducted on a grander scale, or in a nobler cause than that in which Mr. Lincoln, as the chosen ruler of the people, successively sent forth his hundreds of thousands to battle for the nation's life and for the rights of humanity. The disaster at Bull Run, on the 21st of July, 1861, was fol lowed by the fruitless campaign on the Peninsula and before Richmond, in 1862. Successes in West Virginia, Missouri, and Tennessee, and the capture of New Orleans, partly relieved the depressing effect of these misfortunes in Eastern Virginia, where the main rebel army, under Lee, was encountered. Mr. Lincoln's mind was early directed to the consideration of the relations of slavery to the war, not only as its funda mental cause, but also as one of the chief elements of strength or weakness to the rebels, as his own treatment of it should deter- minfe. Besides, he was by no means indifferent — as seen in what has already been quoted from his utterances ,of years before — to that impulse of justice which demands that the oppressed shall be relieved of their burdens, and their wrongs 21 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. redressed by the strong hand of power. "If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong," had been his earnest conviction from his earliest recollection. Assurances and concessions made to a defiant oligarchy, as an inducement for them to cease agitation and remain good citizens, were no longer just restraints on his actions, when all such proffers had been con temptuously scouted, and every right and privilege under the Constitution forfeited by overt acts of treason. In the exercise of his legitimate authority as commander-in-chief of the army and navy, he at length determined to strike a fatal blow at the very root of the insurrection — slavery itself — at once gaining a high military advantage, and improving the opportunity to rid the nation forever of an institution incompatible with its harmonious existence. He issued his Proclamation of Eman cipation, on the 22d day of September, 1862, which was put in full force on the 1st day of January, 1863. From this act dates the downfall of slavery in the United States. Its anticipated effect was not pver-estimated. It was the one thing that needed to be done. It accomplished its ends. The year 1863 beheld the Mississippi river regained, by the decisive victories at Vicksburg and Port Hudson; the army of Lee hurled back defeated and dispirited from Gettysburg ; and East Tennessee occupied by our forces. Half the rebel territory was already reclaimed ; but the formidable armies of Lee, at Orange Court-House, Virginia, and of Johnston, at Dalton, Georgia, were still confronting the armies of Meade, in the East, and of Grant, in the West, as they went into winter quarters at the close of the year. The navy, meanwhile, had successfully maintained the blockade proclaimed by President Lincoln, along the entire coast, with only such occasional evasions, on the part of English-built vessels, chiefly, as were to be expected. Foreign complications, which Davis had eagerly desired, and his numerous emissaries labored for, were skilfully avoided. The popular elections, which had gone adversely in many States in 1862, after a season of military failures, had now been favorable to the Administration, return ing a Congress which supported Mr. Lincoln's policy ^con trary to the example of the previous twenty years, in the choice of a Congress for the last half of a Presidential term. The military preparations on both sides were energetic and earnest, and the resumption of active operations in the Spring ABRAHAM LINCOLN. of 1864 was looked forward to with an anxious interest, in the hope that the season would not pass without decisive results. Congress had revived the office of Lieutenant-General, and the President had, early in March, appointed Gen. Ulysses S. Grant to that position, with the chief military command. Leaving the Western forces to the direction of Gen.- Sherman, the Lieu tenant-General gave his immediate personal attention to affairs in Virginia. The main object to be gained was the envelop ment aud crushing of the principal army, .under Lee, while Sherman penetrated the interior of the States of Georgia and the Carolinas. From the Rapidan to the Appomattox, many a sanguinary conflict attested the determination of the loyal forces, and the desperation of their foe. The Wilderness, Spottsylvania, and Cold Harbor, are flelds saturated with blood ; and they will be ever memorable for the unyielding tenacity and valor with which Meade and his men, obedient to the will of the Lieutenant-General, steadily pushed forward in the great closing work of the war. At Petersburg, Lee was closely occupied — only sending out an invading expedition into the Shenandoah Valley to be utterly discomfited by Sheridan — while Sherman fought his way to Atlanta, di'iving Johnston before him, and made his grand march to the sea at Savannah, and thence through the Carolinas. Then came, after quick, shai-p battle, under Grant and Meade, the capture of Peters burg, the fall of Richmond, the flight of Davis, the surrender of Lee, and the capitulation of all the lesser rebel generals and armies. Valuable aids — • brilliant services — were not wanting in other quarters. Rosecrans and Pleasanton brought Price's invasion of Missouri to an inglorious end. Thomas and Scho field sent the remniint of Hood's routed legions flying from Tennessee. The naval squadron under Porter and the military contingent under Terry gained a brilliant victory at Fort Fisher, followed by the occupation of Wilmington, and an end of blockade-running. Admiral Farragut gained brilliant vic tories at Mobile. Charleston, the mother city of the confede rate usurpation, now little else than a desolation, silccumbed to the arms of the Government it had defled and provoked by the assault on Fort Sumter. The closing events moved in rapid and orderly succession, until the last rebel was disarmed. Necessarily, the all-engrossing business of Mr. Lincoln's Ad ministration, during this entire period, was the dread work of 23 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. war, and his chief public acts and utterances had a relation thereto. It was a time of domestic insurrection and public danger, such as called for the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, as expressly provided in the Constitution, and compelled a resort to martial law, in many cases, and to military arrests. Mr. Lincoln was denounced for these procedures — in which, if he erred, it was perhaps in too great moderation — by many who wished the rebellion to succeed, or who desired impunity in obstructing the Government in its legitimate work. A portion of those who originally constituted the Republican party complained that he did not go faster and farther in the punishment of treason and in dealing with slavery. He had his own views of the mode in which his work should be done, and steadily followed such indications of duty as he clearly saw. His public papers, his letters, and his occasional addresses, always showed how intimate were his sympathies with the people, and how unreservedly he was willing to confide all his public actions, and even opinions, to their judgment. He rejoiced in the practical advancement of emancipation, by which Missouri, West Virginia, and Maryland became Free States, while the leaven was steadily working in Tennessee, Louisiana, Arkansas, and elsewhere. He gladly signed the joint resolu tion of Congress, providing for a constitutional amendment forever prohibiting slavery in every part of the United States and throughout its jurisdiction. He early recognized the man hood of the Negro by putting arms in his hand. He initiated a policy for restoring the Rebel States to nominal relations with the Government, and proclaimed a liberal amnesty to those — with excepted classes — who had incurred the penalties of treason. He approved a confiscation act, after its original terms had been somewhat softened by Congress, intended to exact from the authors of the war some partial compensg-tion, at least, for the pecuniary effects of their crimes. In the choice df his Cabinet, Mr. Lincoln aimed to secure a fair representation from among the most eminent party leaders. Hon. W. H. Seward, of New York, was made Secretary of State ; Hon. S. P. Chase, of Ohio, Secretary of the Treasury ; Hon. S. Cameron, of Pennsylvania, Secretary of War; and Hon. E. Bates, of Missouri, Attorney-General. Each of these distinguished gentlemen had been prominently named as a can didate for the Presidency. Hon. G. Welles, of Connecticut, was 24 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. appointed Secretary of the Navy; Hon. O. B. Smith, of Indiana, Secretary of the Interior; and Hon. Montgomery Blair, of Maiyland, Postmaster-General. Mr. Cameron resigned and was succeeded by Hon. E. M. Stanton, of Pennsylvania, on the 11th of January, 1862. Mr. Chase resigned in June, 1864, and was succeeded by Hon. W. P. Fessenden, of Maine, who returned to the Senate on the 4th of March, 1865, Hon. Hugh McCulloch of Indiana, being appointed in his stead. Mr. Smith was suc ceeded, in January, 1868, by Hon. J. P. Usher, of Indiana, whom Hon. James Harlan, of Iowa, was appointed to succeed, after Secretary McCulloch entered the Cabinet. Hon. William Dennison, of Ohio, succeeded Mr. Blair in the autumn of 1864. Hon. James Speed, of Kentucky, was appointed Attorney-Gen eral, on the resignation of Judge Bates on the 1st of December, 1864. Mr. Chase was appointed Chief-Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, in place of Judge Taney, who died in November, 1864. In June, 1864, Mr. Lincoln received from the Republican Union party a unanimous nomination for re-election, with Gov. Andrew Johnson, of Tennessee, as the candidate for Vice-Presi dent. The opposing candidates were Gen. George B. McClellan and the Hon. George H. Pendleton. • The judgment of the people was fairly taken on Mr. Lincoln's official acts, and the result was a most gratifying approval. Since the' re-election of Jackson, in 1832, no President had been re-elected. It had never before happened to a President from the Free States to be chosen for a second term. The official canvass, on the 8th of February, 1865, showed that Mr. Lincoln had received 212 electoral votes, and Gen. McClellan but 21. Thus emphatically did the people ratify his past administration, and extend him their confidence for the future. Space has been wanting for any extended quotations from the public papers of President Lincoln. His brief address, on the 19th of November, 1863, at the consecration of a National Cemet'eiy for the heroes fallen at Gettysburg, must not be omitted here. It is in these words : " Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this conti nent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We are met to dedicate a por- 25 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tion of it as a final resting-place of those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. " But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that the dead shall not have died in vain — that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that the Government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth." Mr. Lincoln's appreciation of the services of the men who bravely exposed their lives in the field to sustain the Govern ment and to uphold the great principles of republican liberty, was always grateful and profound. On almost every public occasion he acknowledged these services, and often in the ten derest terms. He grudged no General his fame, and took care that no one should be robbed of his just due through any credit given to himself. And above all human instrumentalities, he recognized the overruling hand of Providence. He had a firm faith in the righteousness of his cause, and in a God of justice and benevolence, whose designs for humanity w^ould not permit the overthrow of the American Republic. On taking his oath of office for the second time, on the 4th ' of March, 1865, a devout tone of reverence and trust, hardly paralleled in any other public utterances of any ruler, pervaded his brief inaugural address. Spoken in the assured confidence, of a speedy end of the military power of the rebellion, it mani fested a calm, generous, forgiving temper, and an exalted grandeur of Christian character, worthy of the martyr who was about to lay down his life as a crowning sacrifice on the altar of his country. "The progress of our arms," he said, "upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satis factory and encouraging. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured. On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it — all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war — seeking to dissolve the Union and divide effects by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war • but 26 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive ; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came. , Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God ; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces ; but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered — that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. ' Woe unto the world because of offences ! fijr it needs be that offences come ; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh.' " If wo shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time. He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attri butes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him ? "Fondly do we hope — fervently do we pray — that this mighty scourge of war may soon pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid with another drawn by the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, 'The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' " With malice towards none ; with charity for all ; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in ; to bind up the nation's wounds ; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations." Under the brightest auspices, he entered upon his second term. Joyful days of victory and assured peace soon followed. He lived to see the recovery of the last of the fortresses that had been wrested from his rightful possession by traitorous hands, and to witness the overflowing of popular joy at the taking of Richmond and the surrender of Lee. On the 14th of April, the same flag, now doubly glorified, was raised over Fort Sumter by the loyal hand which had four years before been compelled by treason to pull it down. The circle of the war was complete. The Union was saved. Universal freedom was secured. The Great Republic stood forth fairer and stronger than ever, as a light of salvation to the nations of the whole world. In the midst of this triumph, at the summit of his fame, Abraham Lincoln was basely slain by an impious assassin. Sitting in a private box at a theatre, with his wife and friends — past the hour of ten o'clock on the night of the 14th of April — the stealthy step behind him was unheeded, until the fatal pistol-shot was fired, and the bullet lodged deeply 27 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in his brain. He died on the following morning, amid universal lamentations. The unfeigned grief of the people, the unparal leled manifestations of their sorrow, followed him to his grave near his former home. The world abroad was profoundly moved at his death, and joined in universal eulogiums upon the Departed, whose worth they had finally learned to value. In was the peculiar fortune of Mr. Lincoln that,- born in a Slave State, and entertaining no more radical views on the sub ject of slavery than did the earlier Southern statesmen them selves, his whole political career should be prominently identified with anti-slavery movements, and the most memorable act of his life, the Proclamation which gave the extinguishing blow to slavery itself. He had a high moral nature, combining spot less purity of life with the clearest sense of right and a universal sympathy with all his fellow-men. Because the Negro was inferior, was not to him any warrant for refusing respect to his rights as a man. The colored race had come to look upon him as their special champion and protector. But he never made any ostentatious exhibition of- zeal in their cause. ABRAHAM LINCOLN was, of all American Presidents, the truest representative of his nation — the growth of its varied elements of life, and the embodiment of its ideas. He was lofty in stature, sinewy and strong in body, clear, vigorous, self-reliant in mind ; melancholy in expression of countenance, plaintive in tone of voice, yet full of humor and ready to over- fiow with genuine laughter ; simple, yet hearty and winning in his manners, abounding in kindness, forgiving in temper; honest in all things, affectionate toward all men, and devoutly trustful in God. He seemed surprisingly near to those who approached him, and cared for nothing so much, in his worldly life, as to be in accord with the people. From a station almost the humblest, he rose to a summit of power the very highest in the nation, and grandly sustained himself there at a period the most eventful the republic has ever seen, or perhaps will ever see. He made his way upward by no arts or intrigue, by no demagogism or deceit. Alwaj-s estimated below rather than above his true worth, at each stage of his career, his advancement was fairly earned and solid. The superficial judgment which pronounces him good but not great, will hardly gain even temporary currency, and will be lost from remembrance in tho admiring reverence of coming ages. 28 Daoiierreolype by M.B.Brad.y Jingravedlry Ji Wm-techurtai- Wo m. (Srm.£^MTc Entered Hccorduig-toAct nL Coiigreaa in. Ike year 1265 ¦byl?ice,Hu.lterfeC°in the clerta oHice of -theOJiatict court ofthe UnitRft Statesiti andforftieeaslanaiatrlct of Pfinnsjlvaiul'- ULYSSES SIDNEY GEANT, A LITTLE more than forty years ago, Jesse Grant, a quiet, earnest, industrious young farmer, of Point Pleasant, Ohio, married Hannah Simpson, a thoughtful, serious, frugal woman, who was calculated, in all respects, to make just such a wife as a good man, exposed to the hardships of pioneer life, would desire. On the 22d of April, 1822, they received their first born child, whom they named Ulysses Sidney Grant, Little did this worthy couple imagine that the helpless babe they so fondly in their lowly home took into their arms would acquire a renown which would fill two hemispheres, It is surprising how early in infant life character is often developed. "Wlien Ulysses was but about two years old, his father was one day standing near his door, with the child in his arms. A boy came along with a loaded pistol. ^Curious to see how the babe would stand the fire, he asked the father to let the little fellow pull the trigger. They curled the tiny finger around it, the child pulled, and the pistol was dis charged. Delighted with the loud report, he exclaimed, with sparkling eyes, " Fick it again !" A neighbor, who chanced to be standing by, remarked, "That boy will make a general. He neither dodged nor winked," The game imperturbable spirit has been characteristic of General Grant frouj that hour to this. Though a man of keen sensibilities, he moves through the wildest scenes of terror, tumult, and blood with apparently a serene spirit. From all the anecdotes which are related respecting his childhood, we learn that he was a brave, noble-hearted, magnanimous boy, never disposed to quarrel, yet never disposed to shrink from any danger in defence of the right. Cowper writes beauti fully,- " 'Tis not my boast that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth; But higher far my proud pretensions rise', The child of parents pass'd into the skies." 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Young Grant enjoyed the inestimable privilege of being the son of Christian parents. He was educated to love God and to revere religion. Those who have known him from infancy say that he has never been heard to utter a profane or an im modest word. "With this conscientiousness there was developed a spirit of chivalry, which indicated true nobility of soul, even when that spirit, in the ardor of youth, led to deeds which Christianity perhaps would not approve. "Your "Washington was a traitor," said a Canadian cousin to young Grant, when he was about twelve years old. "Repeat that," replied the youthful patriot, with flashing eye, "and I'll whip you." The pluck of both boys was up. A fierce battle ensued. The young Canadian was soundly thrashed. Grant's Christian mother, proud of her boy, as she accom panied him to his bed that night and heard him repeat his prayers, endeavored to teach him that our Savior urges the forgiveness of personal injuries. "When seventeen years of age, Ulysses entered the military academy at "West Point. The character of the mother and of the boy is alike illustrated in the following extracts from a letter which he wrote his mother soon after his arrival at the academy. It was dated the 4th of June, 1839. " My dear Mother : — I Lave occasionally heen called to be separated from you; but never did I feel the full force and effect of this separation as I do now. I seem alone in the world without my mother. There have been so many ways in which you have advised me, when in the quiet of home I have been pursuing my studies, that you cannot tell how much I miss you. " I was so often alone with you, and you spoke to me so frequently in private, that the solitude of my situation here at the academy, among my silent books and in my lonely room, is all the more striking. It reminds me the more forcibly of home, and most of all, my dear mother, of you. But, in the midst of all this, your kind instructions and admonitions are ever present with me. I trust they may never he absent from me as long as I live. How often do I think of them ! and how well they strengthen me in every good word and work ! " My dear mother, should I progress well with my studies at West Point, and become a soldier for my country, I am looking forward with hope to have you spared to share with me in any advancement I may make. I see now, in looking over the records here, how much American soldiers of the right stamp are indebted to good American mothers. When they go to the field, what prayers go with them ! what tender testi- ULYSSES SIDNEY GRANT. monials of affection and counsel are in their knapsacks ! I am struck, in looking over the history of the noble struggle of our fathers for national independence, at the evidence of the good influence exerted upon them by the women of the Kevolution. Ah ! my beloved friend, how can the present generation ever repay the debt it owes the patriots of the past for the sacrifices they have so freely and richly made for us ? We may ¦well ask, Would our country be what it is now, if it had not been for the great ness of our patriotic ancestors ? Let me hear from you by letter as often as convenient. " " Faithfully and most lovingly, your son, " Ulysses." Again he wrote, to his father, in terms so noble, and seem ingly so prophetic, that we cannot refrain from transcribing them. " I am rendered serious hy the impressions which crowd upon me here at West Point. My thoughts are frequently occupied with the hatred I am made to feel towards traitors to my country, as I look around me on the memorials that remain of the black-hearted treason of Arnold. I am full of a conviction of scorn and contempt, which my young and inex perienced pen is unable to write in this letter, towards the conduct of any man who at any time could strike at the liberties of such a nation as ours. " If ever men should he found in our Union base enough to make the attempt to do this, — if, like Arnold, they should secretly seek to sell our national inheritance for the mess of pottage of wealth or power or section, — ^West Point sternly reminds them of what you, my father, would have your son do. As I stand here in this national fort, a student of arms under our country's flag, I know full well how you would have me act in such an emergency. I trust my future conduct in such an hour would prove worthy the patriotic instructions you have given." Such was the character of Ulysses Grant as a boy. His character as a man has not disappointed the promise which his youth gave. Entering "West Point from a log school-house in the then almost frontier State of Ohio, some of the more aris tocratic rnembers of his class ventured to sneer at what they regarded as his lowly origin. One day, at a sham parade of the company, there seemed to be quite a disposition, from the captain through the ranks, to make fun of Grant. Stepping in front, he tossed down his cap and coat, and, turning to the captain, said, with flashing eye, " If you do not know your duty better than this, I will teach it to you." Grant was a well-built, vigorous, athletic boy; and the Captain, who had in- 3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. suited him, and who could hot retreat from such a challenge, was soon thoroughly punished and laid sprawling upon the ground. Grant then turned to the next in command, and said, "Lieutenant, as you have shared in this fun, I am how ready for you." The lieutenant soon shared the fate of the captain. Grant then, with his eyes flashing fire, and his whole soul roused, turned to the rest of the company, and said, — "Now, gentlemen, you understand me. I am for the pro- tection of my rights ; and I will protect them if I have to grapple in turn every member of this company." A shout of applause rose. " Three cheers for Ohio pluck!" some one shouted. They were given with a will. Thus the amende honorable Was made; and the young hero^ in com memoration of his braveiy, was ever after called " Company Grant." Graduating in 1843, young Grant soon accompanied the United States troops, as lieutenant of infantry, into Mexico. He was an active participant in almost every conflict during the Mexican campaign. At the battle of Monterey, some of our troops were hemmed in at the end of a long street. Their ammunition was exhausted. There was no egress for supply but through the street, many of the houses on one side of which were filled with Mexican riflemen. "Will any one volunteer to run this gauntlet ? Ulysses S. Grant modestly stepped forward, and said, "I will go." Confessedly the boldest rider in the army, he selected a fleet horse, and, adopting the Indian stratagem, threw himself on one side of the horse, caught one foot in the crupper, twisted the mane around one hand, and, thus suspended, dashed through the streets. In two hours he returned with reinforce ments. At the close of the Mexican war, young Grant, then raised to the rank of captain, found the listless life of a soldier in time of peace intolerable. Resigning his commission, he pur chased a farm near St. Louis, Missouri. He soon, of course, tired of this monotonous life, and entered into business with his father, under the firm of Grant and Son. Their establishment, which embraced a tannery and the manufacture of leather in nearly all its branches. Was located in the town of Galena, Illinois. Here Grant was living in tranquillity and prosperity, when traitorous guns, bombarding Sumter in April, 1861, sent ULYSSES SIDNEY GRANT. their direful echoes through our land. This cowardly and treasonable outrage roused to intensity all the patriotic energies of Captain Grant. "Uncle Sam," said he, "has educated me for the army. Though I have served him through one war, I do not feel that I have yet repaid the debt. I shall, therefore, buckle on my sword, and see him through this war too." He went out into the streets of Galena, and, almost in an hour, raised a company of men, and led them to Springfield. Governor Yates received him cordially, and by swift promo tion he passed through the grades of adjutant-general and colonel to that of brigadier-general. The first movement of General Grant which attracted public attention was a vigorous onset upon Paducah, Kentucky, where the rebels had raised treason's foul banner. General Grant indignantly tore down the insolent flag, and raised in its stead the stars and the stripes. His next enterprise was still more conspicuous. The patriot army of the "West had rendezvoused at Cairo. The rebels, twenty thousand strong, had intrenched themselves upon the bluffs at Columbus, where their batteries commanded the river. They had ferried across the Mississippi to Belmont, on the western shore, eight thousand men, for the invasion of Missouri. General Grant resolved to break up this camp. It was the 6th of November. The night was black as ink. Three thousand men under General Grant drifted cautiously down the stream, and landed, in the cold, gray dawn, on the western shore, three miles above the rebel camp. Marching rapidly upon their unprepared and astounded foes, they m.ade one of the sublimest charges of the war. "With gleaming bayonets and a cry which rose loud above the tempest of battle, the patriots leaped upon their foes. It was but a moment, and the rebel flag was down in the dust, and the stars and stripes were floating proudly over the conquered camp. The torch was applied. The flames, leaping from tent, hut, and storehouse, wrapped the whole encampment in fire, while the rebels fled in all directions. The rebel garrison at Columbus gazed across the river with impotent rage upon the daring achievement. They opened fire upon the victors with their heaviest guns, and in , frantic haste sent troops across the river to rally the fugitives and to cut off the retreat of the patiiots. But the heroes, having ac- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. complished their work, bade adieu to the garrison with three rousing cheers, and then cut their way through their swarming foee to their boats, as the tornado rends the forest. The next signal achievement of General Grant was the cap ture of Fort Donelson, on the Cumberland River. After tho capture of Fort Henry, on the Tennessee, seven thousand rebels fled across the countiy twelve miles to Donelson. Ge neral Grant, at the head of twenty thousand troops, pursued them. It was winter. Snow covered the frozen ground. The rebels, thirty thousand strong, were behind their iutrench- ments. The patriots were on the bleak hill-sides or in the gloomy, forest-covered ravines. The battle commenced, aided by the gunboats under Admiral Foote, on the morning of the 12th of February, 1862. It raged almost without intermission for three days and three nights, until the evening of the 15th. That night the wearied patriot troops, with all preparations made to storm the fort in the morning, slept upon their arms. In the earliest dawn a white flag was seen emei'ging from the rebel ramparts. It brought proposals for an armistice. "No terms," General Grant replied, "other than an immediate and unconditional surrender, can be accepted. I propose to move immediately on your works." Buckner excited the derision of the nation by the reply, " I am compelled to accept the un generous and unchivalric terms whicli you propose." "With gleaming arms, exultant music, and streaming banners, the patriots entered the massive ramparts of the subjugated rebels. This signal victory placed in the hands of the nation not only 15,000 prisoners, 146 pieces of artillery, and 15,000 stand of small arms, but also gave us the control of the Cum berland River. This brilliant feat elevated General Grant to the rank of major-general. His commission was dated from the day of the surrender of Donelson, February 16, 1862. Scarcely had the echoes of Grant's artillery died away among the hills ere he was again in motion. The rebels, seventy-five thousand strong, were massed at Corinth. Ge neral Grant, with an equal army, was on the march to attack them. On the 4th of April, with an advance force of 35,000 men, he crossed the Tennessee River where a bend in the stream and the vicinity of his gunboats gave him the most favorable location for an encampment. As he was waiting the arrival, hourly expected, of his rear-guard of 35,000 men ULYSSES SIDNEY GRANT. under General Buell, the rebels, with a force of nearly 70,000, made a sudden attack upon those who had crossed the river. It was Sunday morning. The plain was covered with fog. In the earliest dawn, when fog and darkness were blended, the whole rebel force, like a huge battering-ram, came plunging ¦upon our unprepared and unsuspecting centre of but 15,000 men. Then ensued scenes from which Mercy would veil her face. Most of our troops had never seen a battle. They were noble young men, fresh from the fireside. Their line was overwhelmed, crushed, dispersed. The patriot fugitives fled wildly to the river. But General Grant, undismayed, formed new lines, planted new batteries, brought up his gunboats. Thus the foe was held in check till dark. In the night Buell arrived. His troops were rushed across the river. Before the sun looked down upon them, they were in majestic battle array. " Onward !" was the order with the first dawning light. With crash of artillery and rattle of musketry and shrieking shells from the gunboats, with the sweep of horsemen and the gleam of bayonets and the flash of sabres, and cheers which pierced through and rose high above all the thunder roar of battle, the patriot host moved forward like God's avenging arm. The rebels were broken, dispersed, trampled under foot. Ten thousand of them were strewed bleeding upon the plain, as the patriots swept like a whirlwind over them. Scarcely did the fugitive rebels stop to look be hind them, till, panting and exhausted, they thi-ew themselves upon the ground behind their intrenchments at Corinth, thirty miles away. Soon after this the rebels rendezvoused at Vicksburg. Upon those frowning bluffs they reared their vaunted Gibraltar. Forts and batteries, with connecting curtains, armed with the most effective ordnance and ganisoned by 30,000 rebels, crowned the bluff for miles. The rebel works could only be approached, with any hope of success, from the south or the east. The army and the gunboats, descending the river from Cairo, were north of the city. How could these massive bat teries be passed ? After several unsuccessful attempts to force the transports through the labyrinth of lakes, bayous, rivers, and passes with which that regiOn of boundless morass is em- bordered, General Grant secretly constructed seventy miles of corduroy road, and marched his army through tho over- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. shadowing forest to a point twenty miles below "Vicksburg. Then, in a stormy night, under cover of an assault upon the rebel batteries, he ran those batteries with his gunboats. Then with those ti-ansports he ferried his troops across the river at Port > Gibson. And then, in battle after battle, he drove the rebels in^wildest confusion before him. They were soon all hedged up within their intrenched lines at "Vicksburg, and were there held and bombarded day and night, until on the 4th of July they made an unconditional surrender. 37,000 rebels, including 15 general officers, were taken prisoners. Also 150 cannon, with an immense amount of military stores, fell' into the hands of the victor. "When General Grant landed at Port Gibson for this glorious campaign, "ho took," writes the lion. Mr. "Washburne, of Il linois, who accompanied the expedition, "neither horse, , nor orderly, nor servant, nor camp-chest, nor overcoat, nor a blanket, nor even a clean shirt. His entire baggage for six days was a tooth-brush. He fared like the commonest soldier in his command, partaking of his rations and sleeping upon the ground with no covering but the canopy of heaven." Efforts were now to be made to rescue East Tennessee. The gloom of Chickamauga rested on the land. The rebels, in trenched upon a commanding eminence called Lookout Mountain, held the patriot troops cooped up and threatened with starvation in Chattanooga. General Grant sent General Sherman to attack the rebels on the north point of the ridge, and General Hooker to attack them on the south. Both of. these assaults were feints, though to be conducted with the utmost desperation. The real attack was to be made in the centre, by General Grant. Tuesday morning, November 24, 1863, dawned luridly through clouds and rain and sheets of mist. Sherman and Hooker hurled their columns tremendously upon the extreme of the rebel lines. Amidst floods of rain and shouts of onset and moans of death, amidst thunderings and lightnings and storm-swept billows of smoke and flame, they climbed the cliff", — towering walls above, gloomy ravines below. All day long, till night, they fought, buried in clouds, beneath tho banner of God and liberty. Night came. The contending hosts slept upon their arms. The rebels, during the night, in. preparation for the morrow'.s ULYSSES SIDNEY GRANT. conflict, concentrated their forces at these points of attack. Thua their centre was weakened, as Grant intended that it should be. The morning sun rose bright. The roar of battle was renewed. General Grant, with his massive columns, stood concealed behind Orchard Knob, an eminence just in front of the centre of the ridge. The moment of crisis had now come. The signal gun uttered its roar. As peal follows flash, and bolt the peal, onward they plunged, up the hill, over the rocks, into the enemy's works, each man for himself. The attenuated rebel line recoiled, broke, fled. In just three-quarters of an hour the rebel army was cut in two, and the victory of Look out Mountain was gained. East Tennessee was redeemed and Kentucky saved. All competent judges declare that this was the most brilliant strategic and tactical movement of the war. 7000 prisoners^ 50 pieces of artillery, and a large amount of military stores rewarded this brilliant achievement of the patriots. The great victory of Lookout Mountain struck the rebels a staggering blow, and placed General Grant on a footing with the ablest generals of any country or of any age. His modesty and generosity to his subordinates were as conspicuous as his greatness; and few were disposed to dispute his honors. He had now captured 90,000 prisoners of war, nearly 500 pieces of cannon, and an almost incalculable amount of smaller arms and military stores. In view of these achievements, a grateful nation raised General Grant to the highest -military position in the land. Under the title of Lieutenant-General, conferred on the 1st of March, 1864, he was constituted commander-in-chief of all the armies of the United States. " What next ?" inquired President Lincoln of General Grant, in their 'first interview after this appointment. "Destroy Lee's army," was the reply. The plan was majestic. Washington was to be covered from raid, through the Shenandoah, by General Sigeh General Butler, after making a feint to attack Richmond by the York and the Chickahominy, was suddenly to return and ascend the James River to City Point, thus menacing Richmond from the south. Sherman, in Georgia, was to press his campaign in that department ¦with all vigor, that no reinforcements could be sept from the rebel army there, to the aid of Lee. General NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Grant, with Meade's army of 150,000 north of the Rapidan, was to drag Lee's army out of their intrenchments, and either destroy them or compel them to rush from the menacing of Washington to the protection of their own capital. On the night of Tuesday, May 8, General Grant crossed the Rapidan. The next morning dawned brightly. They had entered what is called The Wilderness. By a flank movement. Grant was getting into the rear of his foe. Lee rushed from his intrenchments, and endeavored to overwhelm Grant. It was a day of terrific battle. Six thousand were struck do-wn on either side. The rebels were beaten back. During the night, both parties prepared to renew the conflict. Scarcely had the sun risen ere the roar of battle began. The billows of war surged to and fro through the jungles. The dying and dead were everywhere. Again had the rebels been baflled. Night closed the strife. In the darkness the rebels fled. The patriots pursued. On Saturday night, the rebels, having fled in a running fight about fifteen miles, made a stand at Spottsylvania. All day Sunday the tempest of war continued. General Grant endeavored to drive the rebels from their intrenchments, but in vain. Darkness closed the scene. Monday came. The tireless leader of the patriot host allowed the foe not an hour for repose. All day long the battle raged. Tuesday came.. It ushered in a day of blood such as earth has seldom seen. The rebels were intrenched at Spottsylvania. The patriots were in a semicircle around them, six miles in arc. The artillery was brought up.. From morning till night the field was a crater of thunder, lightning, tumult, death. Ten thousand on each Bide — twenty thousand in all — ^were struck down. Wednesday, the exhausted combatants strove to regather their energies. On Wednesday night, in the midst of a tempest. General Grant hurled Hancock's division upon the foe. They were driven in wild rout through the woods, losing thirty- two guns and seven thousand prisoners. The dawn of Thurs day morning iqflamed the battle to greater grandeur. Morn ing, noon, afternoon, passed away, and still they fought, every nerve strained'; bayonets were interlocked, rebel and patriot grappled in death-throes, friend and foe, rider and horseman, "in one red burial blent." Ten thousand fell on each side, killed or wounded. 10 ULYSSES SIDNEY GRANT. Night separated the combatants. The morning came, dark, rainy. The skies wept: angels might weep. All day long the rain fell in torrents. The dismal hours vrere spent in buiying the dead and in taking care of the wounded. In the night the patriot host pressed on, through storm and rain, to get in the rear of the foe. Another Sabbath dawned. The armies were face to face. Both stood on the defensive; neither were in condition to charge. It was the twelfth day of this unparalleled campaign. Sternly looking eye into eye, both prepared for another round. With the first dawn of Wednesday morning the battle was renewed, by a tremendous assault upon the rebel lines. It was in vain : the rebels were behind works too strong to be carried by a charge. General Grant then made another flank move ment, which compelled General Lee to abandon his- intrench ments. The rebels hurried down to a new line on the North Anna, All day Friday General Grant's army was upon the march. Lee was again compelled to retire, lest Grant should get between him and Richmond, cutting off his supplies. With consummate skill. General Grant not only thus moved his own army steadily on toward Richmond, but he also rendered it impossible for Lee to turn back and assail Washington. Saturday morning found our indomitable army fifteen miles southeast of Spottsylvania. The next day was the Sabbath. The roads were perfect, the skies blue, the air invigorating, the landscape luxuriant and blooming, while bird-songs and fragrance floated upon the breeze. Onward, resistlessly onward, swept our army, all the day, toward the doomed city, while an army of one hun dred thousand men in vain endeavored to arrest their march. Tuesday, General Grant's army crossed the North Anna, not withstanding eveiy effort of the rebels to prevent it. Feigning a determination to press straight on through and over the enemy's ramparts. General Grant threw out a cloud of skir mishers to conceal his movements, recrossed the river, marched rapidly down toward the Pamunkey, crossed that river, and proudly spread out his army in battle-array within sixteen miles of Richmond. He had now reached the famous banks of the Chickahominy. By taking this route, Washington was perfectly safe : Lee's army was terribly weakened by repeated battles, and the i: NATIONAL PORTRAITS. northern railroads, by which raids toward the north could be effected, were destroyed. It was a brilliant plan, brilliantly executed. For there were two objects to be accomplished: the one was the capture of Richmond, — ^the other, and the more important, the destruction of Lee's army. Finding the intrenchments of the enemy in his front too formidable to be carried hy direct assault, General Grant moved his troops to join General Butler at Bermuda Hundreds. The achievement of this movement, in the presence of Lee's army, who at many points were but a few rods from him, is one of the marvels of war. General Grant so thoroughly de ceived the enemy that Lee had no suspicion of what he was about. He marched his army a distance of fifty-five miles, crossing two rivers, the Chickahominy and the James, Avithout the loss of a gun, a wagon, and scarcely of a man. The doom of Lee was apparently now sealed. Should he abandon his intrenchments and attack Grant in the open field, his destruction was sure. Should he escape to Georgia, the loss of Richmond would be the loss of Virginia, which would seal the fate of the Confederacy, and his runaway army, pur sued by Grant and headed off by Sherman, would soon be nowhere. Should he bury himself behind the intrenchments at Richmond, he would soon learn the meaning of au ana conda gripe, followed by the gripe of starvation, and -R'ould inevitably find his whole army entrapped in that den of re bellion to which he had fled for refuge. And here at this present writing, February, 1865, we must leave Lieutenant-General Grant. Perhaps a more momentous weight of responsibility rests upon him now than upon any other man in the world. He is enshrined in the heart of a grateful nation. At every family altar he is remembered. And even children, as they repeat their prayers at night, do not forget to say, " O God, bless General Grant." U Photo, toy J Gurney ,1c S KngrEW-ed ty "W J, Jacln^> ]D)o(S o FAMMAcSIHTo Entcrci^ according to Act of Congress IT. th:- Year .IOCS "by Eirh.Tluilcr&Co.iiLthii derks olfics of lip DieUJd court cf the United 3late,>;jn&rnrihc ra.<;t:em dislnetof i'aurf'Jlii'- DAYID GLASCOE FARRAGUT. Spain and Scotland have each a vital stream current in the veins of the Vice-Admiral, whose portrait ¦will attract the study of every eye that lingers in this National Gallery. In the year 1776, George Farragut, a descendant of an ancient and honor able Catalonian house, and a native of Citadella, the capital of the island of Minorca, came to America and entered the Colonial Army. Bravely and heartily he shared in the long struggle for independence, rising to the rank of major. The heart of the brave won its right to the hand of the fair. When the war was ended, he sought a partner for life to share ¦with him the peace of a new home. A branch of the old Scotch family of Mclven had wandered afar and settled in North CaroUna. Within it the Major's choice fell, and Miss Elizabeth Shine became the wife of George Farragut. They went to Tennessee, and, at Campbell's Station, near Knoxville, settled down to resist the Indians and subdue the soil. Here, on the fifth of July, 1801, was born David Glascob Fakragut. A farmer's life, in that mountainous region, seems not to have contented the father, who had been quite a child of the sea. He entered the navy as a sailing-master, and became the intimate friend of the senior David Porter, who then held the same rank. The son also was restless at his inland home, and possessed with an intense longing for the sea. He was scarcely nine years of age when his father consented that he should try a sailor's life. After some delay a midshipman's warrant was obtained for him through the gallant David Porter, who soon became his captain. The war of 1812 was opening, and Captain Porter fitted out the Essex for her celebrated career under the flag of " Free Trade and Sailor's Rights." To this famous frigate the young midshipman was ordered, and on the 28th of October, 1812, he sailed from the Delaware on a long and memorable cruise. For more than a year the Essex was engaged in driving British 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. commerce from the Pacific waters. In March, 1814, she and her consort, the armed prize-ship, Essex Junior, were fiercely attacked by the British frigate Phoebe and the sloop-of-war Cherub, in the harbor of Valparaiso, where she was entitled to the rights of a neutral nation. On the British side there were eighty-one guns and five hundred men ; on the American side there were but sixty-six guns and three hundred and thirty-five men. To make these fearful odds the more hopeless, the Essex Junior, a mere whaling-ship converted into a war-sloop, was un able to take any efficient part in the contest. The Essex must flght the battle alone. For two hours and a half the battle raged, until she was on fire the third or fourth time, her decks were swept, her rigging shot away, her magazine threatened, and her hull in a sinking condition. Her captain refused to strike colors until, from her crew of two hundred and fifty-five men, there were one hundred and fifty-five killed, wounded, and missing. A terrible explosion between the decks showed there was no hope, and the flag was lowered. Among the last of those who felt compelled to give up, the ship, was young Farragut, scarcely fourteen years old, who was in the hottest of the flght, and whose name headed the list of slightly wounded men. After the surrender, the prisoners were sent home on the Essex Junior, and Farragut was one of the three midship men, who, according to the official report, " gave an earnest of their value to the service. . . . They are too young to be recommended for promotion." Captain Porter became a Com modore, and remained true to the interests of the young hero. "When the gallant lad returned to the United States, Com modore Porter placed him in school at Chester, Pennsylvania, where he was taught, among other studies, the elements of military and naval tactics. But in 1816 he was again afloat on the flag-ship of the Mediterranean Squadron. In the chaplain, Rev. Charles Folsom, he had the good fortune to meet an instructor, to whom he became ardently attached, and to whom he has generously attributed all that he knows and all that he is. When Mr. Folsom, a worthy member of Harvard University, was appointed Consul at Tunis, young Farragut was sent with him. Of this most interesting period in our noble chieftain's life, Mr. Folsom has lately written : "I describe him as he now appeared to me by one word, 'Ariel.' , , . All needed control was that of an elder Over an affectionate young brother. DAVID GLASCOE FARRAGUT. He was now introduced to entirely new scenes, and had social advantages which compensated for his former too exclusive sea-life. He had found a home on shore, and every type of European civilization and manners in the families of the consuls of different nations. In all of these my young countryman was ¦•jhe delight of old and young. This has always been among his chief moral dangers ; but here he learned to be proof against petting and flattery. Here, too, he settled his definition of true glory — glory, the idol of his profession — if not in the exact words of Cicero, at least in his own clear thought. Our familiar walks and rides were so many lessons in ancient his tory, and the lover of historic parallels will be gratified to know that we possibly sometimes stood on the very spot where the boy Hannibal took the oath that consecrated him to the defense of his country." In the long peace that followed his early heroism, we find little to record except routines of ordinary sea-service and shore duty — cruises of three years and tedious holidays in pleasant pastures. But these were not years of indolence, during which some men would disqualify themselves for conflict. He was preparing himself for the great national struggle, of which he could have little anticipation. In 1821, when not twenty years of age, he was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant, and engaged in the West India service. About three years later he was assigned to duty at the Norfolk Navy Yard; and with the exception of a two years' cruise off the coast of Brazil, he remained at Norfolk until 1833. Here he married a lady of highly respectable family, and during her long, hopeless illness he exhibited all the proofs of exquisite tenderness that are characteristic of a noble-hearted son of the sea. Sadly and long he mourned her death. Subsequently he married Miss Virginia Loyall, of Norfolk, and a son takes from his mother the honorable and promising name of Lotall Farragut. He was at West Point during the years that his father was sub duing rebellion on the Gulf and Atlantic coasts. In 1833 Lieutenant Farragut was commissioned Lieutenant- Commander ; in 1841, Commander ; in 1855, Captain ; and during three of the intervening years he was Assistant Inspector of Ordnance at Norfolk. In 1854 he was commander of the Mare Island Navy Yard, California. During all these years of bervice at home and abroad, he was constantly adding to his NATIONAL PORTRAITS. genera] and professional knowledge by dilligent study and profitable experience. He acquired an elegant command of most European languages, as well as of Turkish and Arabic. He is entitled to a high rank in scholarship. In 1860 he had passed nearly nineteen years at sea; more than eighteen on shore duty, and almost eleven either waiting orders or on leave of absence. Of his fifty-eight years he had spent forty-eight in the naval service. All his labors and endurances seemed likely to lead to no great practical result before the world. There had been nothing but peace, and how could he add anything important to the art of war ? Soon there came a panic — a conspiracy — a rebellion — a confederacy throughout the Southern States. The leaders laid their claims to Captain Farragut, a son of the South, a descendant of Southern European chivalry. Men were desert ing the army, the navy, and the Federal Government, by troops and by States. Captain Farragut was at his home in Norfolk. He calmly watched the progress of the treason. His loyal heart was struck with grief over the fall of Fort Sumter. He could not remain silent. An attack on the Navy Yard at Norfolk was plotted. His opinions were sounded. In frank and manly terms he denounced the whole work and designs of the rebels, and expressed his abhorrence of them. Conspirators gathered around him, resolved upon suppressing or expelling so strong and earnest a patriot. They told him in threatening terms, that he could not live there if he held sentiments so opposed to theirs. "Very well;" was his prompt reply, "then I will go where I can live and hold such sentiments." Returning to his home, he told his family that they must make preparations by night, for a hasty journey northward. Early on the morning of April 18, 1861, they left Norfolk -with emotions of pain known only to those who had been Southern in everything but treason, and who were compelled to flee for their loyalty and their lives. Arriving at Baltimore, he found the city under the sway of desperate rebel sympathizers, and with difficulty he secured a passage to Columbia, Pennsylvania, whence he found an easy and safe route to the city of New York. The rebels thus let escape one of their conquerors, and the next day burned the Norfolk Na-vy Yard. Leaving his family at Hastings-on-Hudson, Captain Farragut repaired at once to Washington, and asked to be employed in DAVID GLASCOE FARRAGUT. the service of his country. The condition of the navy was appalling. The former Secretary of that department had sent most of the ships to foreign ports ; of those remaining, the best had been seized or destroyed at Norfolk. The few that were left were in command of his senior officers in rank. The Navy Department was anxious to have his aid in bringing order out of confusion, and in re-constructing its means of warfare. In lieu of any other work, he served for a time as a member of the Naval Retiring Board, which was designed to shelve incompe tent officers, and to promote the loyal, active, and meritorious. Meanwhile the Government resolved upon the capture of New Orleans. A fleet was organized, consisting of armed steamers and bomb-schooners. Great care was necessary in selecting a commander. .Happily the choice fell upon Captain Farragut. He was appointed Flag-Officer, having charge of the entire squadron. He chose the Hartford as his flag-ship, and sailed from Hampton Roads on the 3d of January, 1862. The bomb-fleet was under the care of Commander David D. Porter, the worthy son of the hero of the old Essex — a son as proud to report to his Flag-Officer, as yciung Farragut had once been to obey the orders of his Captain Porter. Arriving at Ship Island, February 20th, the Flag-Officer began to prepare his squadron for the great task. Many days were laboriously spent in overcoming all sorts of difficulties, and in getting the largest vessels over the bars and through the passes. On the 18th of April the war was opened against the strong forts built seventy-five miles below New Orleans. Forts Jackson and St. Philip were bombarded for six days ; they held out stoutly, pouring their concentrated fire upon the fleet. A heavy iron chain had been stretched across the Mississippi, on the line of which were other obstructions. Above this chain lay the Confederate fleet of sixteen gun-boats and two iron-clad rams. Along the banks were land batteries mounting a dread array of guns. When it was apparent that the forts were not likely to yield to the bombardment, Flag-Officer Farragut called a council of war on board his ship. There was much to be said by the Captains, for everything seemed to be running short : shells, coal, hospital stores, were wanting; nothing came from the North when it was expected. The enemy seemed to have unlimited supplies, and he dealt out war with a terrible ven- 5 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. geance. Perhaps it was all said ; far more than is recorded. But whatever was their opinion, this was the Flag-Officer's order : " Whatever is to be done will have to be done quickly. When, in the opinion of the Flag-Officer, the propitious time has arrived, the signal -will be made to weigh and advance to the conflict. . . , He will make the signal for close action, and abide ihe result — conquer or be conquered." The fire was still poured heavily against the forts. The Flag-Officer resolved to break the chain, run past the forts, destroy the rebel fleet, and push on to the capture of the ciiy. It was a daring movement by a daring man, who took every precaution to make sure of success. He gave the order to start at two o'clock in the morning of April 24th. He •visited each ship. He adopted the suggestion of Engineer Moore, to make the vessels chain-clad or cable-clad. It was a time of new inventions and appliances. " Perhaps," says the official report, " there is not on record such a display of ingenuity as has been evinced in this little squadron." No man was more ready to give honor to whom honor is due than the brave, hardy Flag- Officer. At five minutes before the appointed time the signal was given, but unavoidable difficulties prevented the fleet from starting for about half an hour. The great chain across the river was already broken. The fleet advanced; the forts opened their fire; the mortars replied; the smoke brought thick darkness upon the river ; the flash upon each side drew a new and terrible fire from the other; such strange work was never done before. A fire-raft, pushed down by the rebel ram Manasses, threatened the flag-ship. In sheering it, the Hartford ran aground. The flames kindled upon her, and ran up half-way to the tops. Nothing but calm discipline saved her; the fire department quenched the flames; the powerfal engine threw her back into deep waters, and all the while the great guns were never silent. The forts became lesa terrific, but the thirteen rebel gun-boats and the two iron-clad rams came upon the scene. " We took them in hand," wrote Far ragut, " and in the course of a short time destroyed eleven of them." The Hartford was now past the forts. The Varuna was sunk while destroying two gun-boats that attacked her. Three vessels fell back disabled. But one by one came the twelve 6 DAVID GLASCOE FARRAGUT. Others in the wake or alongside of the flag-ship. Only thirty- six of the Union men were killed, and one hundred and thirty- five wounded. Through the yellow mists of the Mississippi, the sun rose that morning upon the greatest naval triumph of the century. What was done, was done quickly. The gallant Flag-Officer now steamed up the river, and after silencing a few batteries, presented his fleet in front of New Orleans, on the 25th of April, and demanded jts surrender. Four days later the forts surrendered to Captain Porter, and General Butler came up the river with his forces and took possession of the yielding city. " Conquer or be conquered," was still the sentiment of Flag- Officer Farragut. Let the ¦victory on his way to New Orleans stand as specimen of what he did in passing and re-passing the rebel batteries at Vicksburg and Port Hudson. We have not space for his splendid achievements. We turn for a moment to the high estimate put upon his efforts and successes. He received the thanks of both Houses of Congress, and the plaudits of all loyal men in the nation. The rank of Rear- Admiral was created by Congress, and on the 11th of July, 1862, he was advanced to it, and placed first on the naval list for his meritorious conduct in the capture of New Orleans. By his continued and effective service along the entire Gulf coast, he added fresh proofs that he was deserving of these honors from a grateful people. Mobile, with its powerful defenses, had long been as a great prize before the eye of the intrepid Rear-Admiral.' Three strong forts, Morgan, Powell, and Gaines, with other formidable works at the entrance of the bay, protected the blockade runners and hindered the near approach of the blockading fleet. Several projected attacks upon them had been delayed. On the 5th of August, 1864, Admiral Farragut proposed to make his attempt. If he should not subdue the forts by direct attack, he might pass them, and thus compel them to surrender. It has been said that "Mobile was New Orleans sublimed." The gauntlet was more difficult, and a more powerful oppos ing fleet disputed all entrance into the bay. But this time the work was done in broad day-light, under the eye of the Admiral, who had himself bound to the mast, in the main rigging near the top. Early in the morning the fleet steamed up the channel, the Metacomet being lashed to the NATIONAL PORTRAITS. indomitable old Hartford. The flre from the forts proved that the enemy was awake and waiting. The Tecumseh struck a hidden torpedo, careened and sank almost instantly. The Admiral directed Lieutenant-Commander Jouett, of the Meta comet, to send a boat to rescue her crew, and putting on all steam, led off in the Hartford through a track that had been lined with torpedoes, taking the fearful risk of their explosion. Giving a broadside fire upon the forts, the fleet passed them, when the ram Tennessee dashed down at the flag-ship, "I took >no further notice of her," said the Admiral, "than tO return her fire." Three other gun-boats annoyed the fleet, and when their raking shot could not be returned, he, ordered the Metacomet to be unlashed from his ship and put in pursuit of the Selma. " Captain Jouett was after her in a moment, and in an hour's time he had her as a prize." The other two gun boats put into safer quarters ; one of them, however, was after wards run ashore and destroyed. The ram Tennessee was still intent upon the destruction of the flag-ship. An attack upon her was ordered to be made by the monitors and the best of the wooden vessels, and " then began one of the fiercest naval combats on record," The ram was dashed upon, at full speed, by two vessels, and then the Hartford followed, rasping along her side and pouring a " whole port broadside of nine-inch solid shot within ten feet of her casement." She did not fire another gun, and yet refused to lower her fiag; Captain Drayton was ordered to bear down upon the ram ¦with the Lackawanna, but when he was doing so at full speedy his ship ran into the Hartford, cutting her down, near the mizzen mast, to within two feet of the water's edge. It is related that at the moment of the collision, the men called out to each other to save the Admiral, but finding that his ship would float long enough to serve his purpose, and thinlring only of the object to be gained, he cried out to his Fleet- Captain, " Go on with speed ! Ram her again !" The anecdote is characteristic enough to be literally true. As the Ossipee was about to strike her she hoisted the white flag. Her sur render ended the contest. The gallantry of the Admiral was exceeded by his humanity, and he sent the wounded officers whom he had captured, among whom was Admiral Buchanan, to the Union hospitals at Pensa- cola. Of his own men he said with praise, sympathy, and DAVID GLASCOE FARRAGUT. tenderness, "Although, no doubt, their hearts sickened, as mine did, when their shipmates were struck down beside them, yet there was not a moment's hesitation to lay their comrades aside and spring again to their deadly work." Towards the close ofthe month the forts surrendered — Fort Morgan receiving another bombardment of twenty-four hours — and the port of Mobile was hermetically sealed against blockade runners. The city was not formidably attacked, but yielded after the entire failure of the Confederate arms. Rear-Admiral Farragut remained in command of the West Gulf Squadron until November, 1864, when he requested leave of absence, and was called to Washington to advise in regard to future naval operations. Soon after the opening of Congress a vote of thanks was passed for his brilliant victory at Mobile. The rank of Vice-Admiral, corresponding to that of Lieutenant- General in the army, was created, and conferred upon David Glascoe Farragut. By this he was virtually made Chief- Commander of the naval forces of the United States. Free as he was from sordid motives, this great honor did not, perhaps, please him more than the high appreciation of the merchants of New York, generously expressed in a present of fifty thou sand dollars, and in words of gratitude for his sacrifices and hia success. The lustre which his brilliant acchievements have cast upon our arms is not confined to America. The "Army and Na-vy Gazette" of England, has good reason to praise him as " the doughty Admiral, whose feats of arms place him at the head of his profession, and certainly constitute him the first naval officer of the day, as far as actual reputation won by skill, courage, and hard fighting goes." Vice-Admiral Farragut visited Norfolk in April, 1865, for the first time since he had left it to seek a place " where he could live" and cherish his loyalty. In an address there he referred to the threats that had been made against him four years before, and he said, " I have spent half of my life in revolutionary countries, and I know the horrors of civil war, and I told the people what I had seen, and what they would experience. They laughed at me, . . . and I said, ' I can not live here, and I will seek some other place where I can live, and on two hours' notice ;' and I suppose the conspirators said I left my country for my country's good, and, thank God ! I NATIONAL PORTRAITS. did. I went from here with the few valuables I could collect. I was unwilling to believe that this difficulty would not have been settled ; but it was all in vain, and, as every man must do in a revolution as he puts his foot down, so it marks his life ; so it has pleased God to protect me thus far, and make me somewhat instrumental in dealing heavy blows at the rebellion. I have been nothing more than an instrument in the hands of God, well supported by my officers and men, who have done their duty faithfully." After all his exposures and endurances, and the wear of the sixty-fourth year upon him, the Vice-Admiral has as piercing an eye, as hale a countenance, as clear a voice, as vigorous an arm, as sound a judgment, and as cheerful a spirit as when, a dozen years ago, he trod the quarter-deck of a battle-ship in foreign ports, never dreaming that his glory was to be won in defending his government from overthrow by civil war. It has been truly written that "The stainless honor, the straight forward frankness, the vivacity of manner and conversation, the gentleness, the flow of good humor, the cheerful, ever- buoyant spirit ofthe true man — these will be added to the complete education, the thorough seamanship, the careful preparation, the devotion to duty, and lastly, the restless energy, the disdain of obstacles, the impatience of delay or hesitation, the disregard of danger, that stand forth in such prominence in the portrait, deeply engraved . on the loyal American heart, of the Great Admiral." 10 WIHICDMAg M.BimTOITo filtered according- to Act o£ Conyress m the year laes.ly RiccRuUer&C.m the derlts dfice of UieDiBlnct ctnu-l of the UniledSlatesm and for -Qie eastern, diairicl orrmiv.Tlrei"s THOMAS HART BENTOK Thomas Hart Benton was a North Carolinian by birth. His father settled in Hillsborough, Orange county, where he was born, March 14, 1782. At the early age of eight years, death, deprived him of paternal care and discipline. His edu cation was, consequently, neglected. A few terms at grammar- school, and subsequently in the University at Chapel Hill, completed his course of study in the public institutions of learning. In early youth he removed with his mother to Ten nessee, upon a tract of land which was a part of the estate left by his father. But young Benton was not destined to be a farmer. His capacity and his aspirations pointed to a dif ferent field of activity, in which his finely developed physical frame would have quite the subordinate part. He chose the legal profession, and prosecuted its studies with the enthusiasm of a mind to which success was the certain reward of a well- directed ambition. After his admission to the bar, he rapidly rose to eminence, attracting the attention of his political party, which he repre sented in the Legislature for a single term. Two great measures of reform were secured by him : one was a marked improve ment in the judicial system; the other was the right of trial by jury for the slaves. Andrew Jackson was at this period Judge of the Supreme Court of the State, and, later, major-general of the militia. His admiration for youug Benton ripened into a warm friend ship, and he offered him the position of aide-de-camp on his staff. During the War of 1812 he raised a regiment of volun teers, which gave him the title of colonel, — a military honor inseparable ever after from his name. Subsequently a violent quarrel arose between him and General Jackson, re sulting in a combat, in which the pistol and dagger were freely used, but without infiicting serious wounds. A long and bitter alienation follo'wed. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. In 1813, after the volunteers were disbanded, Mr. Benton was appointed by President Madison lieutenant-colonel in the army, and was on his way to Canada, when, news of peace reaching him, he resigned his commission; St. Louis then became his residence, and soon he entered the arena of politics. He started the " Missouri Inquirer," whose columns were often filled with articles which partisan pens alone could write, marked with the passion of political rival ries. Among the duels that grew out of these quarrels, he had "an affair of honor" with Mr. Lucas, an opponent, who. was killed. The remorseful regret of Colonel Benton led him to burn all the papers connected with the sanguinary deed. His journal advocated the admission of Missouri with her slave Constitution ; and he received, as his reward from the State, a seat in the Senate of the United States. This was in 1820,— the date of the commencement of his influential and distinguished career in the national legislation and politics. His intellect, attainments, and temperance com manded the highest respect, and steadily extended his sphere of power over men. Industrious, energetic, resolute, and never at fault in memory, he was formed for a brilliant part in the labors of statesmanship for the rising republic. Having identified himself with the Great West, he thoroughly repre sented her manifold interests, and urged every reform which could advance them. Immediately following his election to the Senate was the commercial distress, felt nowhere more deeply than among the land-holders of the Western States. To reform the land-system became his first and chief object of attention. Mr. Crawford, Secretary of the Treasury, introduced a measure of relief, re ducing the price of new lands to one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre, and making a discount equal to the difference to those who had already bought. But Colonel Benton went further. He framed a bill embodying the principles which he believed should underlie the disposal of government lands. First, a pre-emption-right to all previous purchasers ; secondly, a reduction periodically, according to the time sections had been in market, making the prices correspond with the quality; thirdly, the donation of homesteads to poor and industrious THOMAS HART BENTON. settlers, who would cultivate the soil for a certain period, and thus develop the resources of the country. For three years he persistently brought forward the bill annually, until, from the people, the conviction his speeches produced pervaded Congress. Colonel Benton was a "Jackson man," notwithstanding his former quarrel, and acquired a controlling infiuence, during his administration, over the Senate, which secured the Presi- deht's approval of his land-bill in one of his messages, and its final triumph. A government monopoly in his„ own State attracted next his strong sense and will. Mineral lands M^ere held back from sale, and "farmed out," thus cutting off general enterprise, — an injurious exclusiveness, which he succeeded in having re moved. Kindred to this reform was the repeal of imposts on the necessaries of life, which was an oppressive burden to the people of the Mississippi Valley. The source of income to the government, protecting particular interests, was unequal and severe in its effects. The salt-tax was particularly offensive. The movement which he inaugurated in 1829 was at length successful. , The commercial wants and prospects of the Far West, extending to the shores of Oregon, commanded his clearest thought and most zealous devotion. He had studied the geographical and commercial relations of the comparatively unexplored empire between the " Father of Waters" and the Pacific, and gave to the public, before his election to the Senate, his views upon the importance of a more accurate knowledge of the vast territories, and of the control of the Columbia, whose mouth, like that of the Mississippi, must become a possession of immense value to the United States. To his comprehensive mind, it was clearly the duty of Congress to legislate on these vital interests, including the lines of travel and transportation across the rich domain. The grand railway project now ripening. into a practical un-- dertaking, with the progress in intelligence and the increase of emigration, assumed to him a certainty among future achieve ments quite in advance of the popular estimate of it, or even the appreciation of Congress. He was not only faithful tO his constituents, to his own cherished associations with the West, but obeyed his deepest convictions of duty to the natives, whose 3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. resources were nowhere more varied and abundant than there. The treaties with Indian tribes, the navigation of our large and beautiful lakes, the post roads and military stations, all engaged his thought and his labors; while the currency of the country was thoroughly understood and discussed by him. He was the right hand and most eloquent friend of General Jackson in his overthrow of the United States Bank and establishment of metallic currency, a consistent adherence to a new direction of the money power which gave him the title of " Old Bullion," — a golden honor as inseparable as the " colonel" from hia name. Nor w^as Colonel Benton satisfied with his general support of President Jackson. He was the mover of the " expunging resolution," a motion to strike from the Senatorial journals a vote of censure against the hero of New Orleans for his as sumption of power in the great battle there. Nothing more exasperated his political enemies ; and its success was oue of his greatest party triumphs over a confident and excited majority at the outset of his successful endeavor. Through all the administration of Martin Van Buren, and between the Presidential terms of Tyler and Taylor, he was the firm supporter of the new currency system, and an advo cate of the line of 49° as the northern boundary of Oregon, instead of 54° 40', the choice ofthe Democratic administration of Mr. Polk. His exhaustive review of the latter question, and powerful reasoning, won the victory, and secured the ac ceptance of the territorial limit which he believed to be the just claim of the United States. Colonel Benton acquired great strength in the discussion of the most complicated questions of national policy by his familiar acquaintance with them. He read geography, history, and documents, until the various lights of facts aud figures shone clearly upon the subject. When the Mexican trouble was agitated, he condemned the "masterly inactivity" to which the President leaned, and urged with native will and energy the prosecution of the war. So great -was his influence over the Executive that his appointment to a lieutenant-generalship was proposed, and reached the formal attention of Congress ; but the bill creating the rank was lost in the Senate. The close of the Mexican War brought other and exciting questions of debate, which called forth the logic and eloquence THOMAS HART BENTON. of Colonel Benton. The adjustment of Mexican claims in troduced inevitably into the national councils the subject of slavery, leading to the celebrated Compromise measures of Henry Clay in 1850. These were opposed with all the force of the Missouri Senator's acknowledged ability. He fought the principles of the Compromise, — declaring them unsound in their relation to the "Texas donation" and appli cation to the Fugitive Slave Law. The contest was fruitless on his part, the separate acts passing by a decided majority. Nullification, which first met his stern rebuke both at a private dinner-party, when Mr. Calhoun expressed his approval of the doctrine, and through the fierce struggle between the South Carolina Senator and General Jackson, was again indignantly condemned upon its reappearance, February 19, 1847, in the form of resolutions intended to wipe out all such limitations iu regard to slavery as those embodied in the " Wilmot Pro viso." Mr. Benton asserted that they were "fraudulent resolutions.'' Mr. Calhoun, with considerable astonishment, said he expected their approval by the Senator from a slave State. His fearless antagonist replied, promptly, that he had " no right to expect such a thing." Mr. Calhoun added, "Then I shall know where to find the gentleman." Colonel Benton's warm re sponse was, "I shall be found in the right filace, — on the side of my countiy and the Union." But the " iron man" of South Carolina had entered upon the great enterprise of his life, — the defence and extension of slavery at any cost. The resolutions never came to a vote, but were sent by him to the legislature of every slave State, in cluding that of Missouri, and, under partisan leadership, before agitation could compel inquiry, were passed in the very home of the distinguished Senator. At this time appeared a very forcible review of the contend ing minds and conflicting elements in Congress, by thc Ame rican poet J. G. Whittier, from which an interesting descriptive extract is quoted. It was entitled " The Triumvirate," — that is to say, John C. Calhoun, Henry Clay, and Thomas H. Benton. " The Atlantic States of the South for the last twenty years may be said to have had but one leading mind. A solitary intellectual despot has exercised authority from the Potomac t0 the Gulf. The very Coriolanus of Democracy, distrusting NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the people, with whom he has never allowed himself to be brought in contact, — cold, haughty, and unfamiliar, — ^he owes his influence to the sheer force of an overmastering intellect. In the Garden of the West, a son of the Old Dominion, com bining in himself the fiery genius of Henry with the grace fulness of Wirt, bold in council and resolute in action, and at the same time genial, bland, and captivating in social life, has secured, by his brilliant qualities and his political tact, that consideration and deference which the iron Carolinian ha,s ex torted by his inexorable will and proud self-reliance, while flinging down the gauntlet to the religion, philosophy, and humanity of Christendom in behalf of human slavery. Still farther West, on the banks ofthe Great River, we find another individual exerting a marked and decided infiuence over the inhabitants of the Southwest, — 'the tumultuary population of the Mississippi Valley,' as Santa Anna has styled them. Bold, frank, self-confident, free of speech, and impatient of control, with a mind somewhat overloaded with a cumbrous miscellany of learning, yet ample and gorgeous like his own prairies, and enriched by the collections of a life of observation and political experience,, he may be regarded as a fitting representative of our pioneer hunting-shirt civilization, — the pattern man of the nomadic democracy of the Southwest. "Ifl applying the term triumvirate to these men, we would by no means infer that there is or has been any coalition or concert of action among them. On the contrary, they are political — and, in the case of two of their number, probably personal^enemies. But up to a very recent period they have, each in his own way, labored, not unsuccessfully, to promote ¦ the great overshadowing interest of their section of country. They have been the champions of the Slave Power. With such guardians of their peculiar institution, the slave States may well be pardoned for their tone of self-congratulation, iu view of the professed champions of the free North. For, to our shame be it said, with the single exception of the vene rable Adams, we have had none worthy to break a lance with them in behalf of Liberty. Our Websters and Wrights, our Choates and Van Burens, have had uo heart for such a contest. "Latterly, however, there are indications of a disposition on the part of one of the triad — the Missouri Senator — ^to take a broader and higher view of his duties aS a democratic states- 6 THOMAS HART BENTON. man. When the Texas treaty of the late administration was under consideration in the Senate, he gave utterance to certain unwelcome truths in relation to the rights of Mexico, and the boundary between that republic and the revolted State of Texas, calculated to embarrass not a little that plan for the extension of slavery of which we are constrained to believe the present war is a prominent part. Since the late session of Congress, public attention has been called to two somewhat extraordinary letters from his pen, in relation to slaveiy in Oregon and the claim of the free States to a Presidential can didate, as well as to a recent speech at St. Louis, where, re ferring to the same topics, he denounced what he calls 'the propagandism of slavery.' Of the moving spring and motive of this remarkable change of tone we cannot speak with any degree of certainty. We refer to it as a fact calculated to aflect seriously the great question of our day. ... It would be idle for any party to affect indifference to the course of such a man upon such a question. Although never ranked among his admirers, we have not been blind to those traits of character which have made him what he unquestionably is, — one of the leading influences of the country ; and, as friends of Freedom, we cannot look without interest upon his novel position. Whatever motive may have prompted it (and we regret that our limited observation of political aspirants has not prepared us to look for a high and generous one), we rejoice to see him occupy it. Would that we could reasonably indulge the hope that the language of his Oregon letter is but the prelude to a bolder and manlier tone of remonstrance against the extension and perpetuation of slavery! — that through him the curse fastened upon Missouri at her birth, and which has robbed that noble State ofthe wealth and populatiop now overflowing Ohio and the free Northwest, is to be arrested and removed ! That he has the power to do this, we have little doubt. The same indomitable will, energy, and perseverance w'hich overthrew the feed attorneys of the United States Bank and blotted from the records of the Senate the resolution of censure against General Jackson, called into exercise for the higher and worthier object of delivering his State from its great political and social evil, could not fail of success. Such a triumph would go far to atone for even greater errors than his enemies have ever charged upon Colonel Benton. It would enable him NATIONAL PORTRAITS. to leave to posterity a far more glorious reputation than that which he now enjoys, of a successful partisan in a pitiful contest concerning banks and finance. It would give him an honorable place among the benefactors of mankind, and cause his memory to be blessed by coming generations, as their tide of free population, swelling up from the confluence ofthe Mis souri and Mississippi, follows the wide divergence of those noble rivers, or, sweeping across the Ozark Hills, pours itself abroad over the vast territory of the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. That he will avail himself of the opportunity thus afforded him to satisfy the highest claim of a rational ambition, while conferring an incalculable benefit upon his country and the world, we have, perhaps, little ground for hope. The wis dom of the world is foolishness. Human ambition, neglecting the ladder reaching heavenward and bright wnth the footsteps of angels, toils at its tottering pile like the builders on the plain of Shinar, and is doomed, like them, to confusion and disappointment. ' ' In sjDite of his power and influence, the conflict of principles and political parties was fatal to the high position of Colonel Benton, costing him his place in the Senate, and in the front rank of the Democracy at home. He canvassed his State in the war upon the Calhoun resolu tions, with a Junius-like clearness and severity of exposure. But a coalition between the Whigs and "Anti-Bentonites" resulted in his defeat in the nomination for another Senatorial term, and the election of Mr. Henry S. Geyer. Subsequently, in 1852, Colonel Benton again made his direct appeal to the people against the nullification party, and was elected to Congress over all opposition. At first a friend of Mr. Pierce, as soon as the President defined his position under the shadow of the Calhoun wing of the party. Colonel Benton opposed him on that account; while in turn the Executive took revenge by the removal of all the friends of the former from oflice in the State of Missouri. The Kansas-Nebraska bill, aimed at the repeal of the Mis souri Compromise, was opposed by Mr. Benton to the last, al though in vain. In 1854 he was once more defeated in the election by the combination of former enemies, and in 1856, after canvassing the State, on the gubernatorial nomination. In the powerful im- THOMAS HART BENTON. pression his speeches made, aiding materially in the reaction against disunion sentiments which followed, he declared he was amply rewarded for his labors. The conservative views he held decided him to cast his vote aeainst General Fremont, his son-in-law, in the Presidential campaign of 1856, and to give it to James Buchanan ; hoping that the policy of General Jackson would return, and fearing that the more threatening agitation of slavery would follow the election of Fremont. He lived to see his mistake. After his defeat in 1856, Colonel Benton retired to private life, and devoted his pen to "The Thirty Years' View," which he had commenced two years before. He visited several, of the cities of the Northern States as a lecturer upon the preservation of the Union. His discussion of the vital question was calm and earnest. We shall never forget the impression his venerable presence and serious words made upon refiective minds. For, whatever the political opinions of his hearers, the prophetic dread of the suicidal effort to divide the country which found expression in his vivid pictures of the scenes that would attend and follow the revolt, could not fail to move every loyal heart. In imagina tion he saw the inevitable and sanguinary confusion which would make the histoiy of the indefinite future, — the cordon of military posts from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, to protect the fragments ofthe once mighty nation, — ^the conflicts and bloodshed of frequent occurrence, — our glory gone, and the hopes of humanity crushed. None could doubt the sincere loyalty and patriotism of the Missouri Senator. In the quietude and retrospective contem plations of the past, which marked the experience of age, there seemed to fall upon his spirit the ominous shadow of a trial of our institutions around his grave, before the mound was green with the rooted turf. But he did not see that in the home of his political antagonist in the Senate of the United States the hand would be raised against the Republic whose blows would crimson his own and every Southern State with the blood of the warrior ; nor did any of us anticipate that great struggle whose issue shall be a more glorious nationality for succeeding generations, when the starry ensign of freedom shall command the admiration of all mankind. Following the completion of this great work, came the her- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. culean task of abridging and condensing the debates in Con gress from its earliest sessions to the present time, — a work that went forward, at the advanced age of seventy-six, with unabated activity. But nature was compelled to yield to the pressure of years and sorrow. In 1854, Mrs. Benton, an intelligent and excellent woman, died. This affiiction, added to other bereave ments, cast so deep a shadow upon his path that never after was he seen in any place of social amusement. He often re ferred to the sad work of death, and his own approaching end, which were the prevailing themes of his meditation. Still, in his anxiety to carry forward his compendium of Congressional history, he dictated in whispers on his dying bed important facts. He died in Washington, April 10, 1858. His review of the Dred Scott case was widely read. Colonel Benton belonged to the mighty men of the past. Strong in intellect and character, he was never greater than in his defeats, which were for the most part in the maintenance of principles which are inseparable from our national prosperity. He had no favorite policy or scheme of partisan ambition to which the Government must bend at the expense of its honor and very life. To the last he loved and labored for the Union; and, whatever mistakes resulted from early education and political excitements, with another giant of those former days of our Congress, — ^Daniel Webster, — he desired to die with his last look upon an undivided and strong Republic. 10 f h ijLc'grapL . by J-F-P-yder. Engraved hy "R ."White church. iy-t>^' 7mer.'a acc'jnlmg toAcl <.i Congrc^s.intlK' year i865 oy Rine^tter A L'9 in "the rL-ita olL\ci;,crfthe District coi!it.rftiieh'iiiletlL'tati^5.inaiii£or11i.'eaat,:miiistiirtofTemisylviinia. ANDREW HULL FOOTE. Sixty years ago the firm of Hull & Foote was among the few importing houses in New Haven, Connecticut. General An drew Hull, of Cheshire, and his young son-in-law, Samuel Au- gustiis Foote, were the partners. They were in that West India business which has always been the chief commercial interest of New Haven, and which was never more prosperous than in the days when the wars of Europe, consequent on the French Revolution, threw an, immense "carrying trade" into the hands of American merchants. Samuel A. Foote, son of Rev. John Foote, who served the Congregational Church of Cheshire in the pastoral office forty- six years, was a graduate of Yale College in the class of 1797. He had studied law at Litchfield ; but the want of health had compelled him to relinquish his chosen profession, and to en gage in a more active employment. He resided in New Haven from 1803 till 1813, when the interruption of commerce by the war with Great Britain, and the increasing infirmities of his aged father, induced him to remove. From the death of his father, in 1813, he resided in his father's homestead. He was greatly esteemed by his fellow-citizens of Cheshire, whom he often represented in the General Assembly of the State. He was one of the Representatives from Connecticut in the Fif teenth Congress, and in the Sixteenth. In the years 1825 and 1826, he was Speaker of the House of Representatives in the Legislature of the State, and from 1827 to 1833 he' was a Senator of the United States. At the expiration of his term . in the Senate, he became again a Representative in Congress, but having been elected Governor, he resigned his seat in May, 1834, before the first session of that Congress was com- • pleted. His public career ended with that year of service as chief magistrate of his native State, He died in 1846. Andrew Hull Footb, the second son of Samuel A. Foote^ NATIONAL PORTRAITS. was born at New Haven, September 12, 1806. From his seventh year, his home was in the beautiful village of Cheshire. His mother, Eudocia, daughter of General Andrew Hull, was a woman whom all that knew her praised, faithful in every duty,' and eminently diligent to secure the moral and religious wel fare of her children. Andrew, from his seventh year to the beginning of his seventeenth, was trained in the simplicity and accustomed to the out-door activities of rural life, under the in spiring and restraining influences of an old-fashioned Puritan household. He grew up a bright, strong-Willed, amiable boy, with a full share of that adventurous aud daring spirit which sends so many boys to sea at sixteen years of age. He was educated at the Episcopal Academy in Cheshire, where the present Secretary of the Navy (Hon. Gideon Welles) was one of his schoolmates ; but his father, instead of urging him into college, wisely permitted him to choose the very different course to which his genius prompted him. He entered the navy as a midshipman, in the year 1823. His flrst voyage was under the command of a lieutenant who had gained experience and honorable distinction in the War of 1812, and who, having had the privilege of training him for the service of his country, and having shared with him the perils of sea and of battle, survives in a vigorous old age to share in a nation's grief at the death of his illustrious pupil. The intimate and affectionate friendship of forty-one years, between Admiral Gregory and , Admiral Foote, was honorable to both. The first cruise of the young midshipman was not a holiday affair. The War of 1812 was the last in a long series of wars among the maritime powers of Christendom; and, with the opportunities which it had given to privateering, it had left the seas infested with pirates. Desperate men of all nations, ac customed to violence and inured to danger, were imitating the old buccaneers and sea-rovers; and the evil had grown, espe cially in the Gulf of Mexico and among the islands of the West Indies, till it had assumed almost the proportions of a war. Midshipman Foote's first voyage was in the expedition against the pirates. In the course of it he distinguished him self by courage and enterprise as well as by diligence in the duties of his place, and thus he gave promise of the eminence to which he afterwards attained. His second voyage was under Commodore Hull, in the Pacific Ocean. ANDREW HULL FOOTE. the entire crew to forego their immemorial "grog," and to abstain from intoxicating drinks. At the same time, he became a volunteer chaplain to them, giving a lecture every Sunday, on the berth-deck, to as many as chose to attend, and having a congregation of nearly two hundred willing hearers, — the lecture being followed by a meeting for prayer in a more retired part of the ship. The Cumberland became as worthy of honorable memory from her association with that experi- n;ient of free moral and religious influence among the seamen of our navy, as she afterwards became when, with her flag still flying, and her guns exploding at the water's edge, she went down so heroically in that conflict which changed in an hour the entire system of maritime warfare till wars shall be no more. On his return from the two-years cruise in the Cumberland, he was disabled for a while by a painful disease of the eyes. After a six-months leave of absence, he was ordered to the navy-yard at Charlestown, Massachusetts, where, being still unfit for service afioat, he remained as executive officer through the whole period of the Mexican War. In 1849 — as soon as his recovery was sufficiently advauced^he was put in command of the brig Perry, and was ordered to the West African station, that squadron being then commanded by Commodore Gregory. The services which he was there permitted to render deserve a grateful remembrance. Our flag, now glorious in the un- dimmed light of liberty and justice, had long been dishonored on that coast, and along the hellish " middle passage" to Cuba and Brazil, by being made the protection of a slave-trade so infamously unjust and cruel that the National Legislature, in earlier and better days, had denounced all partakers in the traffic as guilty of piracy, — enemies ofthe human race. Who ever may be blamed for this national dishonor, it is believed that the officers of the Navy never were responsible for it. They have always been naturally and reasonably sensitive for the honor of the flag which it was theirs to display in every sea and to defend against every insult. But politicians had found it expedient for their ends to divert public attention from the main point of suppressing the slave-trade and pro tecting and encouraging a legitimate commerce with the natives of Africa and with the Americo-African colony, to a side-issue about the sometimes insolent interference of British cruisers with American vessels. In the judicious arrangements which NATIONAL PORTRAITS. were made by Commodore Gregory, the duty came upon Lieutenant Foote of conducting a voluminous correspondence with British officials on that coast, which contributed some thing to the removal of jealousies and difficulties, and to cor diality of co-operation between the British and American squadrons in conformity with existing treaties. At the same time, by his strenuous activity against the piratical traders in human misery, he did much to break up the slave-trade that had found safety under our flag, and to remove the national disgrace that had so long and so often made the cheeks of Americans to tingle Avith shame. But not the least, in his estimation, among the honors of that cruise was the fact that through the many months of activity and exposure on that coast, BO often fatal to life, the liquor ration was voluntarily and resolutely banished from the Perry, and among her officers and crew there was not a death, nor a man disabled. For a few months after his return he had another period of relief from active service, and of rest in the bosom of his family. Yet his rest was not idleness. Those who were members of the same church with him remember how ready he was for every good word and work at home. Others remember how often he appeared abroad, speaking and otherwise acting in various enterprises of associated Christian benevolence, and especially in such as seek to promote the welfare of seamen. During that period of rest he prepared and published the well- known volume entitled "Africa and the American Flag," a volume full of condensed information and valuable for its practical suggestions. The nation has always been proud of its navy; and its pride was increased by his command of the Perry, and the fruits of it. One more long cruise in Eastern climes, and his career as a navigator on the ocean was ended. Seven years ago, in the month of June, he sailed from the Chesapeake Bay, the com mander of a magniflcent sloop-of-war, the Portsmouth. Two years afterwards he returned, having in the mean time distin guished himself by the bombardment and storming of the barrier forts in the Canton feiver. The limits of this sketch give no room for more than a transient allusion to that con flict, and the honor which it won for the American flag. It may suffice to remember that the crews of British men-of-war manned the rigging and cheered the starry banner as the ANDREW HULL FOOTE. Portsmouth dropped down the river, while the music of our na tional airs floated from beneath the "meteor-flag of England." His next post of duty was that of executive officer at the Brooklyn Navy- Yard, where he remained three years. The beginning of this great rebellion found him there ; and im mediately his large experience in naval affairs, his wonderful promptitude, and his executive ability were put in requisition. So rapid has been the march of events for these last three years, that we have already half forgotten how much was to be done for the navy at that crisis, and how much was done in the navy-yard at Brooklyn. In July, 1861, Commander Foote was commissioned a captain, and in September he was sent to create and command an inland navy on the waters of the Mississippi. Having per sonally superintended the construction of the vessels that were to be built for that service by contractors and constructors who had never seen a man-of-war, he steamed away from Cairo, on the 4th of February, 1862, with a fleet of seven gun boats, four of them iron-clad,, to attack Fort Henry, on the Tennessee. The attack was to have been made simultane ously with an attack by the land-forces under the command of General Grant. But the arrangements for a joint attack were defeated by the condition of the roads on which the array was to move after landing from transports. In these circumstances. Commodore Foote, without waiting for the arrival of the land-forcfe, opened flre on the fort at noon on the 6th of February. After a bombardment of less than two hours, the fort was unconditionally surrendered. Eight days afterward, the fleet under his command, having returned to Cairo and ascended the Cumberland River, attacked Fort Donelson in co-operation with General Grant, who had already invested the fort on the land side. The conflict between the fort and the fleet was fiercely maintained for an hour and a quarter, and the enemy's -water-batteries had been silenced, when the flag-ship and another of the iron-clads became un manageable in consequence of damage to their steering appa ratus, and the fleet could only drop down the river, leaving the victory to be completed by the land-forces the next day. In that battle Commodore Foote was severely wounded in the ankle. But, though suffering from pain and weakness, and incapable of moving except on crutches, he proceeded down National portraits. the Mississippi with his fleet, and on the 15th of March com menced the siege of Island Number Ten. Nor till the sur render of that fortress, on the 8th of April, would he consent to ask for leave of absence on account of his wound. This is a meager record of his achievements on the Western rivers. If we would rightly appreciate what he did for his country there, we must think not only of the victories, but also, and still more, of the gigantic and exhausting brain-work by which, under all sorts of embarrassments and discouragements, those victories were prepared, in the creation of the flotilla at St. Louis. The honor conferred upon him, soon afterwards, by the President, in appointing him to be one of the rear-admi rals on the active list, was ratified by the universal approbation of his loyal countrymen. A timely act of Congress had made it possible for the Government to recognize his sei-vices by promoting him to a higher rank than had ever before been recognized in the Navy of the United States. His fellow-citizens in New Haven saw him when he came among them, a few weeks after the surrender of Island Num ber Ten, — ^pale, feeble, but full of that indomitable spirit which had overcome the greatest obstacles, which would not succumb to the agony of a painful wound, nor to the depress ing influence of bodily weakness and disease, nor to the heavy tidings of sorrow at home, and which had kept him on his flag-ship till the day had come and gone beyond which it had been predicted by his medical advisers that he would not he alive if he remained there. His fellow-worshippers in the First Church in New Haven saw him in their assembly on the first Sunday in August, when, in circumstances of peculiar and tender interest to himself and his family, (joy mingling with repeated sorrows,) he kept the Sabbath with them for the first time since his return, and for the last time before his leaving home again to take the burden of new responsibilities at Washington. Physically he was even then unfit for those responsibilities. He knew it, he could not but feel it; but he was ready to sacrifice himself to the service of his country, which was to him the service of his God. He went ; and his great executive abilities were well employed in organizing a new bureau in the Navy Department. As soon as it became evident that the work which he had been doing could be safely committed to other hands, he asked for more active and more * ANDREW HULL FOOTE. perilous duty. He was assigned to the command of the South Atlantic Squadron ; and in that command he expected to die. It was in vain that friends and physicians entreated him to spare himself and to ask from the Government the relief which would have been granted to the slightest expression- of his wishes. He was determined to do his utmost for his country, at whatever sacrifice. His life, he said, was not his own, and should be freely surrendered at his country's call. His preparations for going to his new command were com pleted, and all things were in readiness for his departure from New York, where he had just arrived after parting with his family at New Haven, when the disease which his vigorous constitution had long resisted, and which had gathered strength from the hardships and fatigues incident to his preparations for his new command, overcame him, and he lay down to die. After he had lingered about ten days, in great suffering, his decease took place at the Astor House, in New York, on Friday, the 26th of June, 1863, between ten and eleven p. M. Not thus had he expected to die ; not in the midst of those who were bound to him by the tenderest ties ; not encircled and tended by the gentlest assiduities of domestic love ; not breathing out his soul upon the free air of these Northern climes. He had expected; rather, to die in the malaria of the Carolina sea-islands, tended by the rough but loving hands of fellow-warriors on the sea, or in the roar and fiery storm of battle. "Where he should die, or how, was to him a question of little moment. Yet, when he found his time had come, he could not but be thankful for the opportunity of dying among those- whom he had loved most tenderly, and of breathing his last words of blessing into the ears of wife and children. Brothers and kindred were at his bedside, day and night, through the protracted agony. Others, too, were there in the privilege of friendship, — strong-hearted men, the heroes of many a confiict, confessing by their silent tears how much they loved him. Voices that had rung out loud and clear, and were soon to ring again, in the tempest of battle, trembled and broke in the tenderness of grief beside his death-bed. Assured that he must die, he waited calmly for the end; for he knew in whom he had believed. His last intelligible words were, "I thank God for all His goodnesses to me, — for all his loving- kindness to me ; He has been good to me ; I thank Him for all His benefits." 9 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. The domestic life of one who serves his country on the ocean is full of trials at the best. His home, if he has one, is home to his affections; but he does not live at home. Memory hallows the living picture of it which he carries in his heart; bright hopes cluster around it; its dear famihar forms and faces come to him in his dreams ; but only now and then, in brief intervals of rest and enjoyment, is he permitted to visit that " dearest spot of all the earth." The vicissitudes of deepest joy or grief that come upon every household are most likely to come upon his when he is far away. Admiral Foote was married, June 11, 1828, when he was only a passed midshipman, in the twenty-second year of his age, to Caroline, daughter of Bethuel Flagg, Esq., of Cheshire. She died November 4, 1838, when he was separated from her, and from her infant child, by half the circumference of the world. Two daughters were the only children of that marriage. The first died at the age of four years. The other, who was born after the death of her sister and received her name, is now the wife of George S. Reese, Esq., of Baltimore. January 27, 1842, more than three years after his bereavement. Lieutenant Foote married Caroline Augusta, daughter of Augustus R. Street, Esq., of New Haven. Of the children of that marriage there are two survivors. The eldest, Augustus R, S, Foote, now (1865) in his eighteenth year, is serving in the army of the United States, The youngest, John, is too young to remember his heroic father. Between the eldest and the youngest were sons and daughters who died in childhood, Mrs, Foote sur vived her husband only a few weeks, and died at New Haven, August 8, 1863. 10 ¦ W'-.-i ri.»,jisif,lr, Mf EngravecLlTrT^O^ - iiUrJMi AMBIEIEW jrCDIHIH-SOir Entered accccdm^^lo Art of Caagi-e^;, io ihpyeai 18661fy Eice,Rutter& Co inthederto afficeafiheOiijtna coui-^ o! -iiie XEmti-a St-ut,-, mauSlbrilic eastern district of Pennsjl''"**" ANDREW JOHNSON. Andrew Johnson was born December 29, 1808, at Raleigh, North Carolina, In his fifth year he was bereaved of his father, who lost his life in his generous and successful efforts to rescue Colonel Thomas Henderson, editor of the "Raleigh Gazette," from drowning. The widow and her children were thus left dependent upon themselves for support. Andrew was pre vented from receiving even an ordinary education, and at the age of ten years took his seat, as an apprentice, on the tailor's bench, in his native town. Years of toil were before him, but the honest labors in this humble occupation he was never will ing to ignore. ' At a later day he said, when breaking a lance with one of the ablest debaters in Congress, "Sir, I do not for get that I am a mechanic, I am proud to own it. Neither do I forget that Adam was a tailor, and sewed fig-leaves, or that our Saviour was the son of a carpenter." The young apprentice soon evinced remarkable powers of mind. One proof of mental strength was the consciousness of his^ ignorance ; another was an eager desire for knowledge. Providence gave him an opportunity, which many a youth would have n eglected. The shop was often visited by a townsman, who kindly brought with him a volume of speeches, by British states men, and lightened the hours of toil by reading to the work men. The ambition of Andrew was fired by this torch. When his day's work was done, he applied himself to mastering the elements of his native language. He asked the loan of the volume, that he might learn to read. The gentleman was so pleased with his earnestness, and the right direction of his am bition, that he presented Andrew the hook, and gave him assist ance in his studies. By persistency, industry, and patience, he began to unlock the treasures of wisdom, and store his mind with practical information. Another aid to learning was in reserve. Having completed his apprenticeship, and travelled a little as a "journeyman NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tailor," he set his eye westward. In 1826, he went with his mother to Greenville, in Eastern Tennessee. Soon after his set tlement there, he married a young woman, whose attainments and devotedness qualified her to exert a marked and beneficial infiuence upon his future life. Sympathizing ¦with him in his pursuit of knowledge under difficulties, and in his aims to rise above his position, she often sat with him in his shop, cheering him with every encouragement, reading books to him, and im parting what she could by conversation. The spare hours were devoted to the study of the useful arts and sciences. The work- ingmen of the town began to discover that a scholar and a thinker was among them. He rose above mere declamation, and reasoned logically upon subjects of political science and government. He had enlarged upon the broad views of the more liberal British statesmen, who had become familiar to him by the readings in the old workshop, and he had formed clear and definite opinions upon national affairs. " The principle of Re publican government — the fact that it is a government of the people, by the people, and for the people — became the centre around which clustered all his thoughts, hopes, and aspirations." One fact was patent to the eye of Andrew Johnson. It was the want of a truly popular representation. There were two classes of citizens : one composed of the few, who owned capi tal, and were supported by slave labor; the other of the many, who maintained themselves and their families by their own exertions. This latter class was not properly represented in the government. To it he belonged. To its rights he de-^oted his thoughts and energies. He believed that intelligence and labor should have at least an equal voice with wealth and idle ness. He took up the cause of " the laboring classes," — a term which he clearly defined in later years, when Jefferson Davis asked him, superciliously, "What do you mean by 'the labor ing classes'?" He replied, " Those who earn their bread by the sweat of their face, and not by fatiguing their ingenuity." From the shop of Andrew Johnson new light began to radiate. New ideas became current among his fellow-townsmen. By him they were aroused to assert their right to representation. They began at home. In 1828 they chose' him to represent them, as Alderman, in the town councils. Two years later they elected him Mayor, in which office he served for three years. The County Court appointed him Trustee of Rhea Academy. ANDREW JOHNSON. The field of his vision enlarged. He saw other wants of the people. In 1834 he was active in the adoption of a new consti tution for Tennessee, by which important rights were guaran teed to the people, the freedom of the press established, and other liberal measures secured. He was now fairly enlisted in public life. He devoted him self to improving the social and political condition of the peo ple, and elevating the working classes to the independence and dignity of freemen. They admired his courage ; they esteemed him for his zeal on their behalf; they looked to him as their friend and champion, and they were ever willing to give him their voice and their vote. Having proved himself worthy of advancement, he was elected, in 1835, to a seat in the .House of Representatives of the State, An active member of this body, he distinguished himself particularly by his opposition to a , grand scheme of internal improvements, boldly denouncing it as abase fraud, tending "to drain the State treasury and to increase State taxation. This independent and resolute course rendered him so unpopular, for the time, that he was not returned the next year. But time proved the correctness of his views, and restored him to popular favor. In 1839 he was reelected to the Legislature. He became more widely known as an effective orator in 1840, when canvassing the State as a presidential elector in behalf of Martin Van Buren. The next year he was elected to the State Senate, in which he held a seat for two years, efficiently laboring for the improvement of Eastern Tennessee. He was the earnest and able advocate of all that he believed to be right, and the fearless, candid denouncer of all that he deemed wrong. Recognizing his abilities and services, the people en larged the sphere of his usefulness, and sent him to Congress, in 1843, and continued him at Washington, in that capacity, for the following ten years. He was not returned to Congress in 1853, because the State had been re-districted, and his residence was thrown into a dis trict which gave a large Whig majority. But, after an exciting canvass, he was chosen Governor, in which office he served for two terms. He was active in urging upon Congress the Home stead Bill, by which it was proposed to grant " to any person who ia the head of a family, and citizen Of the United States, a homestead of one hundred and sixty acres Of land out of the NATIONAL PORTRAITS. public domain, upon condition of occupancy and cultivation of the same for the period of five years." He exerted his influ ence for the cause of popular education in the State, and accom plished much for internal improvement. He was still the zealous advocate of the people's wants, and the defender of their rights. In 1857 he was elected United States Senator by the Legis lature of Tennessee, for the term of six years. He vigorously advocated the Homestead Bill, and although it was finally vetoed by President Buchanan, yet his eloquence was not lost. His whole heart beat strong for the people, when he said, "I know the motives that prompt me to action. I can go back to that period in my own history, when I could not say that I had a home. This being so, when I cast my eyes from one extreme of the United States to the other, and behold the great number that are homeless, I feel for them. I believe this bill would^put them in possession of homes ; and I want to see. them realizing that sweet conception, when each man can proclaim, 'I have a home, an abiding place for my wife and for my children ; I am not the tenant of another ; I am my own ruler ; and I will move according to my own will, and jiot at the dictation of another.' " "When replying to the assertion that all " manual laborers " were slaves, and that such a class " constitutes the very mud-sill of society and of political government," he said, " If this were true, it would be very unfortunate for a good many of us, and especially for me. I am a laborer with my hands, and I never considered myself a slave. ... If we were to go back and fol low out this idea, that every operative and laborer is a slave, we should find that we have had a great many distinguished slaves since the world commenced. Socrates, who first conceived the idea of the immortality of the soul. Pagan as he was, labored with his hands, — yes, wielded the chisel and the mallet, giving polish and finish to the stone; he afterwards turned to be a fashioner and constructor of the mind. Paul, the great ex pounder, himself was a tent-maker, and worked with his hands ; was he a slave ? Archimedes, who declared that, if he had a place on which to rest the fulcrum, with the power of his lever he could move the world ; was he a slave ? . . . When we talk about laborers and operatives, look at the columns that adorn this chamber, and see their finish and style. We are losfin admiration at the architecture of your buildings, and their mas sive columns. What would it have been but for hands to con- ANDREW JOHNSON. struct it ? Was the artisan who worked upon it a slave ? Let us go to the South and see how the matter stands there. Is every man that is not a slave-holder to be denominated a slave because he labors ? Why indulge in such a notion ? The argu ment cuts at both ends of the line, and this kind of doctrine does us infinite harm in the South. There are operatives there ; there are mechanics there ; are they slaves ? " Such words will not be wasted ; they are good for all times. Born and reared amid the institution and progress of African slavery, Andrew Johnson did not oppose the system, yet he did not advocate its extension. He was willing to leave the inhab itants of the Territories to decide upon its existence therein. He deprecated its introduction into the debates of Congress, and voted generally for its protection. Yet he always rebuked any attempted disparagement of "the laboring clas&es," and claimed that the people had a right to be heard. The statesmanship of Andrew Johnson rests upon the broad principle that the power of a nation is in the people ; that workingmen are the strength and life of government ; and that the people are worthy of confidence. This appears from all his speeches. We make a few quotations : — "Our true policy is to build up the middle class, to sustain the villages, to populate the rural districts, and let the power of this government remain with the middle class. I want no miserable city rabble on the one hand ; I want no pampered, bloated, corrupted aristoc racy on the other. I want the middle portion of society to be built up, and to let them have the control of the governmOnt. ... The people are the safest, the best, and the most reliable lodgment of power. . , . The agricultural and mechanical por tion of the community are to be relied upon for the preservation and continuance of the government. The great mass of the people, the middle class, are honest. They live by labor. . . . Let it not be supposed that I am against learning or education, but I speak of the man in the rural districts in the language of Pope : 'Unlearned, he knety no schoolman's subtle art, No language but the language of. the heart ; By nature honest, by experience ¦wise, Healthy by temperance and exercise.' " He insisted upOn retrenchment in governmental expenses; introduced resolutions to reduce the salaries of members of NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Congress, and all officers of the government, exceeding oue thousaflid dollars ; opposed all public appropriations for monu ments and funeral expenses ; denied the right of members to vote themselves books and stationery, saying " that ihey might just as well vote to increase their salaries ; " opposed the found ing of the Smithsonian Institute, lest it should be more burden some on the public treasury than beneficial to the people ; voted against all direct appropriations for the District of Columbia, arguing that any city of the United States would cheerfully contribute to have the national capitol removed to its limits, and advocated that the tariff should be so amended as to tax the wealth rather than the labor of the country. He was in favor of the annexation of Texas, and of the Mexican War, and opposed the Pacific Railroad bill, ever insisting that legislation was for the good of the whole country, and not for the advan tage of any party. His whole soul was anxious for the peace, prosperity, and glory of the Union. But it required the fiery ordeal of 1860 to call forth the strong points of his character and reveal his sincere love and unswerv ing integrity to the union of States and of people. For the presidency he had sustained John C. Breckinridge, who had said, " Instead of dissolving the Union, we intend to lengthen and to strengthen it." But Abraham Lincoln had been elected. The threat of disunion had been made in the South ; the work of secession had begun. Every Southern representative in Congress was asked where he stood. Some openly avowed secession ; some hesitated for months after taking their ?eats ; but Andrew Johnson wavered not for a moment. He readily acquiesced in the election of Abraham Lincoln, and feared none of those phantoms which so disturbed the imaginations of a majority of Southern representatives and senators. He hoped for great good from conciUatory measures, and knew that the North would be willing to grant them. He took his seat in the Senate. Soon he introduced a proposal to amend the Consti tution in three particulars : the first, so that the people should vote directly for President and Vice-President, instead of voting for an electoral college ; the second, so that the people should elect the Senators of the United States, instead of the Legis latures ; and . the third, so that the Supreme Court should be divided into three classes, and vacancies be filled by judges chosen equally from the free and slave States. In discussing ANDREW JOHNSON. these proposals, he said, " I am opposed to secession, I believe it is no remedy for the evils complained of. Instead of acting with that division of my Southern brethren who take grounds for secession, I shall take other grounds, while I try to accom plish the same end. I think that this battle ought to be fought, not outside, but inside of the Union, and fought upon the bat tlements of the Constitution itself. I am unwilling, voluntarily, to walk out of the Union, which has been the result of a Con stitution made by the patriots of the Revolution. They formed • the Constitution ; and this Union that is so much spoken of, and which all of us are so desirous to preserve, grows out of the Constitution. ... I will stand by the Constitution of the coun try as it is, and by all its guaranties. ... I intend to hold on to it as the chief ark of our safety, as the palladium of our civil and reUgious liberty. I intend to cling to it as the shipwrecked mariner clings to the last plank, when the night and the tempest close around him. It is the last hope of human freedom." In this powerful speech, delivered December 18th and 19th, 1860, he clearly proved the unconstitutionality of secession, and said, "I believe there is too much good sense, too much intelligence, too much patriotism, too much capability, too much -virtue in the great mass of the people to permit this Government to be over thrown. I have an abiding faith, I have an unshaken confi dence in man's capability to govern himself." And yet while Andrew Johnson was uttering such sentiments, in various speeches, the Union seemed to be dissolving, at the touch of a conspiracy which had been growing fpr thirty years. Seven of the most Southern States had already passed secession ordinances. It was still hoped that the work of treason might be stayed in the "Border States." Abraham Lincoln was in augurated President. Senator Johnson returned to Tennessee, quite confident that the loyal men would hold the State in the Union. Already had he been burned in effigy at' Memphis, and on his route he had been assailed and threatened with death. He found that all loyalists were subject to a reign of terror. A price was set upon his head. Treason raged, determined to rule or ruin. The war was opened on Fort Sumter. The Pres ident called for 75,000 men, and for an early session of Con gress. Tennessee refused to furnish soldiers, but she could not restrain her Senator from going, in due time, to take his seat at Washington. When on his way thither, in June, he received NATIONAL PORTRAITS. an ovation from the loyal citizens of Cincinnati, where his voice increased the fires of patriotism in the hearts of the people. He took his seat in the Senate, and _ soon after introduced a resolution declaring "that the present deplorable civil war has been forced upon the country by the disunionists of the South ern States," and defining the objects of the war, on the part of the Government, to be "to defend and maintain the supremacy of the Constitution and all laws made in pursuance thereof, and ¦to preserve the Union, with all the dignity, equality, and rights of the several States unimpaired." This was passed by a vote of thirty to five. The following day, July 27th, he dehvered another memorable speech, in which he justified the President in his measures for suppressing rebellion, and arraigned certain Senators as traitors, producing an irresistible array of facts and arguments, and convicting them by their own record. He voted for the various bills proposed to sustain the Government, In September he returned to the West, and addressed Union meetings in various places, Tennessee had been overrun by secessionists, who had confiscated his slaves, driven his sick wife with her child into the street, and turned his house into a hospital. The following winter he was again in the Senate, where he spoke and voted for the expulsion of Jesse D, Bright, a Senator from Indiana, on a charge of giving " aid and com fort to the public enemies." In February, 1862, Genleral Grant captured Forts Henry and Donelson, and the advance of Gen eral Buell's forces drove the Confederates from Western and Middle Tennessee. President Lincoln appointed Andre^w^ Johnson Military Governor of the State, with the rank of Brig adier-General of Volunteers. The Senate confirmed the ap pointment, and Governor Johnson reached Nashville on the 12th of March. He was enthusiastically received by the suffer ing Unionists. He published a Irindly and patriotic "Appeal to the People." He ordered the Mayor and City Councilmen of Nashville to take the oath of allegiance. Upon their refusal to do so, they were removed, and loyal officers appointed. The press throughout the State was placed underproper super-vision. Certain eminent traitors were imprisoned. A proclamation was -issued against the bands of guerrillas that were committing depredations upon Union men. Assessments were made to support families rendered destitute by robberies and murders. Often the tide of war set in furiously against Tennessee, ANDREW JOHNSON. threatening to sweep it clear of Unionists, but in such trying times Governor Johnson remained hopeful and self-reliant, inspiring confidence in all around him, and reviving courage by his calmness and determination. Early in 1863 the State ¦\vas freed from all organized bodies of Confederates. Steps were taken to restore the State government. In April, 1864, a mass meeting was held at Knoxville, when the people declared in favor of the emancipation of slaves, and for a convention to change the constitution of the State so as to secure freedom to Tennessee. In June, 1864, Andrew Johnson was nominated as the can didate for the Vice-Presidency, by the Convention which met at Baltimore and put Abraham Lincoln in nomination for the Presidency. His acceptance was regarded everywhere as suf ficient proof that he agreed with President Lincoln in the poli cies which had distinguished his administration. All the States voting, except three, gave immense majorities for the ticket, and the President felt that his policies were indorsed by the people. Victoiy also indorsed them, for shortly after the inauguration of the President and Vice-President, the main armies of the Confederacy surrendered. But a deed of horror suddenly threw the nation into mourning. On the 14th of April, Pres ident Lincoln was assassinated. He died the following morn ing, and before noon Andrew Johnson was duly inaugurated in the vacancy. Almost overwhelmed by the development of a plot by which the President had fallen, and which seemed to have been designed for the murder of his Cabinet and of the Vice-President, and unprepared to indicate his views, he left his policy to be determined by the necessities of the times. He retained the acting Cabinet, and made no removals in the offices throughout the countiy, but gave himself energetically to the work of peace and reconstruction. In his message to Congress, at the opening of the session, December 1865, he maintained that the Constitution was thc basis of Union and the source of national power, and that it provided for its own amendment, "so that its conditions can always be made to conform to the requirements of advancing civilization." He held that " the plan of restoration should proceed in conformity with a willingness to cast the disorders of the past into oblivion," and that the "evidence of sincerity in the future maintenance of the Union should be put beyond NATIONAL PORTRAITS. any doubt by the ratification of the proposed amendment to the Cobstitution, which provides for the abolition of slavery for ever within the limits of our country." He held that this measure would efface the sad memory of the past and secure population, capital, unity, and confidence in the Southern States, re-uniting them to the Federal government beyond all power of disruption, for it would remove the element of slavery, which had so long perplexed and divided the country. This amend ment having been adopted, the way would be clear for the States lately under the rule of secession to send their represent atives to both branches of the National Legislature, each house having the right to judge of the qualification of the applicants claiming membership. " Treason," said he, " is a crime ; trai tors should be punished, and the offence made infamous, and the question forever settled that no State, of its own will, has the right to renounce its place in the Union." He held that "all pretended acts of secession were from the beginning null and void. The States cannot commit treason." Therefore they were never out of the Union, and when their elected represent atives presented themselves at the door of Congress, they should be admitted to seats, if loyal and duly qualified. Neither house agreed with him in this opinion, and the Southern appli cants were not admitted at the first. He held that the question of negro suffrage should be left to the States, and that the " freedmen " should have protection in their liberty, and justice in their labor. Said he, " It is one of the greatest acts on record to have brought four millions of people into freedom. |The career of free industry must be opened to them." As we now write, many of the great questions pertaining to the reconstruction of the Union are pending, and it is impos sible for us to present all the views of President Johnson, or to trace the results of his policy. Having already made himself a name, — having passed through the various degrees of official responsibility, and attained to the highest position in the gov ernment by steps that leave their print for the study and guid ance of young men who would elevate themselves above their obscure condition, — having proved himself an orator, a states man, and a popular ruler, and having begun his administration with the promise of favor among the people of all parties, — there can be no doubt that Andrew Johnson will be a man of history. Ehoto^aph by F. Gu-tekunst . t'ingi-aved hy R. Wiitediurdi. (S.g®S©S ©oMSAIBl cJiUjoS~t. '^''^^ijt.eL.-e^JL^ Enlened accordmf^toAct of Congrea6.mthayDatl8l'b"ly Rh,«K>jUiii S,!"'- m thHi-lnik-- oltic" of iluflJismctCourtotthelb-rted ^Uie^matidforlheftistaiiislini:! .-¦I Inm'^'.-lva GEORGE GORDON MEADE. In the early part of the present century, there were certain commercial claims and naval difficulties to be settled between the United States and Spain. For their adjustment, the President selected Richard W. Meade, a most worthy citizen of Philadelphia, then a temporary resident of Cadiz, Spain, where he had been engaged in numerous mercantile trans actions with the Spanish government. His character and experience admirably qualified him for the responsible offices of Consul and Na-vy Agent of the United States. He so fulfilled them that all parties gave him high honor. The claims were peaceably settled ; and mainly through his influ ence and exertions, the territory of Florida was secured to the United States. His wife, Margaret, was descended from the noble family of Ormonde, in Ireland. While at Cadiz, in 1815, George Gordon Meade was born. During his infancy, his parents returned to Philadelphia. Among his earlier teachers was Salmon P. Chase, who taught in Georgetown, District of Columbia. The one did not expect to see his modest pupil become a commander-in-chief; the other did not anticipate that his worthy preceptor would become the Chief Justice of the United States. Young Meade spent a short time in the military academy at Mount Airy, near Philadelphia; ^nd in September, 1831, he was enrolled as a cadet at West Point. Having graduated, in 1835, he was appointed Second Lieutenant in the Third Artillery, and imme diately ordered to Florida. As an officer, he won distinction in the severe campaigns against the Seminole Indians. An illness, at one time, prevented him from serving with his regiment ; Providence thus saved him from being a victim in the horrible "Dade Massacre." The lessons in that school of the swamps, were to prove serviceable to his country in later years. Exposure and hardship so impaired his health, that Lieutenant Meade resigned his commission in October, 1836, and adopted NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the profession of civil engineer. He was employed by the government in various scientific surveys, particularly those for the demarcation of the boundary line between the United States and Canada. In May, 1842, he was appointed a Second Lieu tenant in the corps of Topographical Engineers. It was in the war between the United States and Mexico, that Lieutenant Meade gave the most striking evidence of those superior military traits and qualifications which have since made his name renowned. While serving, at different times, on the staffs of Generals Taylor and Scott, his abilities were of the greatest value. At Palo Alto, at Resaca de la Palma, at Monterey, at Saltillo, aud at Vera Cruz, his conduct was marked by a degree of bravery that made him worthy of high official commendation. He was immediately brevetted a First Lieutenant. On his re turn from these victorious campaigns, he was presented, by the citizens of Philadelphia, with a beautiful and costly sword, as a slight token of the estimation in which he was held by the people. Peace had again blessed the land, and Lieutenant Meade was actively employed in various national services, such as the improvement of rivers and harbors, and the construction of lighthouses. Of his labors, the mariners upon Delaware Bay reap the benefit. "When hostilities were again threatened in Florida, he took th'e field with his old commander. General Zachary Taylor. During the campaign of six months, his advice pre vailed in the choice of a site for a fort on the western coast of the State. It was built, and, in his honor, named Fort Meade, a title which it bears to the present day. In 1856, he was com missioned a Captain in the corps of Topographical Engineers, and placed in charge of the important geodetic and hydraulic surveys of the great northern lakes. Under his able supervision, the work progressed rapidly and satisfactorily, as the various, charts abundantly testify. His noble and gentlemanly qualities won him the confidence of the government, and the esteem, of the people among whom he was a transient visitor. He was stationed at Detroit, Michigan, in the spring of 1861, when the guns that battered Fort Sumter, proclaimed war throughout the land. Captain Meade knew where was the sphere of patriotic duty, aTi_d held himself ready for the call of his government. By order, he reported himself at Washington. On the thirty- first of August, 1861, he was appointed a Brigadier-General of GEORGE GORDON MEADE. volunteers, and was assigned to the command of the second brigade of the Pennsylvania Reserve Corps, "a fine body of men, raised by his native state for the war." For several months he was with his command in the lines which defended the national capital. To describe all his heroic actions during the advance into Virginia, and during the Peninsular campaign of 1862, it would be necessary to write the histoiy of the Army of the Potomac through that eventful year. At no time was General Meade found wanting in valor and ability. While under General McDowell, he commanded his brigade in several important reconnoisances ; on one of which, the second brigade marched from Fairfax to a point near Drainesville, and captured a large amount of supplies. After the battle of Hanover Court House, he was ordered, with his command, to join General McClellan on the Peninsula. The battle of Mechanicsville was the first in the series of fierce engagements known as the " Seven Days' Contests," beginning on the twenty-sixth of June. On one day, we see General Meade rushing, with his gallant Reserves, into the thickest of the fight, contending stoutly, for three hours, against a determined foe — rallying a regiment that falters under over powering numbers, and bringing it again into the line of battle, and making himself the hero of Gaines' Mills. Three days later, the Pennsylvania Reseiwes were posted on the New Market road, to guard the immense supply-trains of the army, which were then passing toward the James river. General McCall, who commanded the Reserves, ordered Meade's brigade to form the right wing, and await the approach of the enemy. He and his men must receive the first attack. The battle was soon raging with almost unexampled fierceness. For four hours, the main advance of General Lee's army was held in check. It was Lee's purpose to intercept the flank movement of General McClellan, fall upon the Union forces, and destroy them. The Confederates drew nearer; but the line of the Pennsylvania Reserves was unbroken. The roar of war fllled the air, the heavens grew black with smoke, the carnage was fearful. Still nearer came Lee's forces, pressing almost upon the very mouths of the cannon that poured death into their ranks. Many a Union officer and soldier did his duty that day, as if his countiy was looking upon him, ready to crown him when the victoiy should be won. In the hottest of the fight. General Meade's NATIONAL PORTRAITS. commanding figure was seen; and where shot and shell fell thickest around him, he seemed to have most self-possession. Riding up to his line, he said: "Men, you have done nobly; you have covered yourselves with glory ; you could not have pleased me better." After some conversation with Colonel (now General) Sickels, he asked if he could not give the advancing enemy a bayonet charge. " I think we can," replied Sickels, " although we are very tired." In a moment more, the order was given: "Charge!" The men shouted, and sprang forward; the steel clashed; groans were heard from the enemy, and shouts of triumph from the Union soldiers. It was all over in the twinkling of an eye. The advance of Lee's army was checked, and the whole Army of the Potomac was saved by concentrating it on the James river during the following night. Among the thousands of wounded officers and men, waa General Meade, who received two balls while urging forward his column. Although the wounds were very severe, he rode for some distance to a temporary hospital, probably expecting never again to lead onward his brave troops. At first the injuries were supposed to be mortal. He was removed to his home in Philadelphia, where for six weeks he was compelled to rest from active service. Immediately upon his recovery, he rejoined his brigade, just when the Army of the Potomac began its withdrawal from the Peninsula. The Pennsylvania Reserves were the first troopSj from that army, that reinforced General Pope, who commanded the forces on the Rappahannock. The Reserves were commanded by General John F. Reynolds, who led them to Manassas, where the battle of Groveton (second Bull Run) was fought. The celebrated campaign under Pope, closed with a great retreat. General Pope, in his official report, says : " The Pennsylvania Reserves, under Reynolds, rendered most gallant and efficient service in all the operations which occurred after they had reported to me. General Meade performed his duty with ability and gallantry, and in all fidelity to the government and to the army." In the official report of General Reynolds, he also says : " General Meade, as heretofore, led and conducted his brigade in the most skillful manner, through the entire marches and actions." Early in September, 1862, the Confederate forces were pushing into Maryland, with the confidant hope of making a successful GEORGE GORDON MEADE. invasion into the loyal States. General Meade was assigned to the command of all the Pennsylvania Reserves, as a part of Hooker's corps. In the battle of South Mountain, this veteran division manifested its usual prowess. In front of it was the enemy, strongly fortified on heights difficult to attack. Every man was at his post. Under an incessant fire, the line moved on, pouring their volleys into the intrenchments of the foe. The ground had been made difficult by the enemy, who had added every sort of obstacle to the natural obstructions. But General Meade pushed up the mountain-side with his brave men, dislodging the Confederates, and gaining new positions. A general engagement was brought on, and the heroic com mander of the Reserves had reason to believe that an effort was being made to outflank him. He applied for reinforcements, but before they arrived, he swept all before him, and gained possession of the mountain. The men caught his martial spirit; and, stimulated by a strong confidence in his ability and in success, they clambered up to the crest, and drove the enemy down the rugged steeps into the valley beneath. The left flank of Lee's army was turned, and victory secured to the Union cause. All had done nobly; but in limiting our attention to General Meade, wd find that in this engagement he won the praise of his superior officers, and the admiration of his men. In the battle of Antietam, the action was commenced by General Meade and his Reserves. On the afternoon of the sixteenth of September, he conducted a vigorous attack upon the enemy's left fiank. His di'vision was soon most hotly engaged. During nearly four hours, the fighting was desperate. Then the enemy fled, pursued by Meade for almost three miles. The Reserves rested for the night upon the field where they had conquered a greatly superior force. The darkness had ended the conflict on the evening before ; the dawn of the morning was to renew it. At the break of day, the great battle of Antietam was renewed by Meade's division. For half an hour, after the battle had become terriflc and deadly, neither line seemed to falter in the least. The awful half hour passed, drowned in blood. Then the Confederate line gave way a little — only a little ; but at the flrst indication of it, the Union forces heard the order to " advance !" Onward went the line, with a shout and a rush. Backward went the retreating enemy, across a corn field, over the fence, and into the dark woods beyond, leaving NATIONAL PORTRAITS. their dead and wounded behind them. " Meade and his Penn- sylvanians followed hard and fast," says an eye-witness, " until they came within easy range of the woods, where they, at first, saw the beaten enemy disappearing among the trees." But reinforcements had come to the enemy. Out of those gloomy woods came, suddenly and heavily, terrible volleys of fire, which smote, and bent, and broke the line of the Union Reserves. It was a critical hour. Must these veterans yield to overpowering masses ? There was no panic. Their ammunition was gone ; they could not use the bayonet ; they closed up their shattered lines, and fell back slowly, maintaining that £.rm determination and exemplary discipline which had made them invincible in former contests. A regiment passed over the spot where a brigade had been ; a brigade where a division had proved victorious in the advance. Their valiant General was constantly cheering and encouraging them -with his presence and his voice; and not content with giving an order, he went himself to see it executed. Shot and shell plowed the earth around him; two horses fell under him; a spent grape gave him a slight wound ; but he led the living portion of his men from the field in such a masterly manner, that the enemy gained no real advantage over him. Other forces waged the battle until the Federal army won the field of Antietam. It should he stated, that on this same morning Major-General Hooker was wounded, and General Meade was placed, temporarily, in command of the First Army Corps, although he was the junior in rank to several other officers on the field. In' this superior command, he con tributed greatly to the victory. On the return of General Reynolds to the army. General' Meade re-assumed the command of the Pennsylvania Reserves. At the battle of Fredericksburg, December 13th, 1862, Meade's division was among the first to cross the Rappahannock, on the night and morning preceding the engagement, and to keep the enemy at bay for several hours. Meade boldly attacked the enemy in position, succeeded in carrying his lines, and penetrate ing to the baggage-train in the rear ; but after charging up the slope, he was not followed with reinforcements, nor supported. Overwhelming numbers of troops poured down upon him, and ;the concentration of the enemy's reserves compelled him to withdraw his division with a hea-vy loss of men, but without loss of honor. Fredericksburg was not taken at that time. Por GEORGE GORDON MEADE. his services in the several past engagements, our hero was appointed a Major-General of volunteers, to date from Novem ber 29th, 1862 — an honorable promotion, for which he had been earnestly recommended by his officers superior in command. In the January following, he was assigned to the command of the Fifth Army Corps, and for a brief period he commanded the centre Grand Division of the army. When General Hooker led the Army of the Potomac across the Rapidan, in April, Gen eral Meade, with the Fifth Corps, accomplished a march of nearly fifty miles, in less than three days, and reached Chancellorsville. Three days' aftei:wards, the great battle opened in front of his lines. The engagement became general and terrific. During all the three days' struggle, he displayed a remarkable skill iu handling troops at a trying time. ' When, at length, it was decided to re-cross the Rapidan, Meade's corps covered the retreat, keeping a vigilant guard over the fords until the other part of the army had passed in safety to the northern bank. The next offensive movement of General Lee, was into Maryland. Before daylight, on the twenty-eight of June, General Meade was roused from his slumbers in his tent, at Frederick, Mary land, by a messenger from Washington, who notified him that he had been selected to command ,the Army of the Potomac. He was the junior, in rank and age, of many distinguished officers. He felt the responsibility of taking the command of the most powerful army in the country, almost in the presence of a victorious and defiant enemy, led by the most distinguished - chieftain of the Confederacy. A struggle, the most sanguinary of the whole war, was threatened and expected. There was no time for re-organization. He must take things just as they were, and make the best of them. With diffidence, he accepted the appointment of the President. In his brief address to the army, he said: "As a soldier, in obeying this order — an order totally unexpected and unsolicited — I have no promises or pledges to make. The country looks to this army to relieve it from the devastation ahd disgrace of a hostile invasion. Whatever fatigues and sacrifices we may be called upon to undergo, let us have in view, constantly, the magnitude of the interests involved ; and let each man determine to do his duty, leaving to an all-controlling Providence the decision of the contest." 7 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. The President had selected him solely on account of his superior ability ; and the choice was soon ratified by the soldiery and by the people. On the very day of his appointment, he took means to ascertain the strength of the two great armies soon to meet in deadly colhsion, "The next day, the Army of the Potomac was put in motion ; on the next General Reynolds was ordered to occupy Gettysburg, in doing which, he fell, mor tally wounded. General Meade requested that " all commanding officers address their troops, explaining to them the immense issues involved in the struggle," and also "to order the instant death of any soldier who fails to do his duty at this hour." Then began the bloody and furious three days' hattle, so memorable in history. To relate what the Commander-in-Chief performed, during the struggle, would require a full account of the terrible contest. It will never be forgotten how the Fourth of July was re-consecrated to Liberty, by the victory at Gettys burg, and also by the surrender of Vicksburg to General Grant. In his congratulatory address. General Meade thanked the army " for the glorious result," and also said : " It is right and proper that wo should, on suitable occasions, return our grateful thanks to the Almighty Disposer of events, that, in the goodness of His providence. He has thought fit to give victoiy to the cause of the just." And now let us look at " the illustrious hero of Gettysburg," as he is portrayed by an Englishman, who saw him at Hagers town, Maryland : " I was so fortunate as to be personally introduced to General Meade. . . . He is a very remarkable- looking man — tall, spare, of a commanding figure and presence; his manners easy and pleasant, but having much dignity. His head is partially bald, and is small and compact; but the fore head is high. He has the late Duke of Wellington class of nose ; and his eyes, which have a serious, and almost sad expression, are rather sunken, or appear so, from the promi nence of the curved nasal development. He has a decidedly patrician and distinguished appearance. I had some conversa tion ; and of his recent achievements he spoke in a modest and natural way. He said that he had been ' very fortunate ;' but was most especially anxious not to arrogate to himself any credit which he did not deserve. He said that the triumph of the Federal arms was due to the splendid courage of the Union troops, and also to the bad strategy, and rash and mad attacks GEORGE GORDON MEADE. made by the enemy. He said that his health was remarkably good, and that he could bear almost any amount of physical fatigue. What he complained of was, the intense mental anxiety occasioned by the great responsibility of his position." Histoiy will prove that it would have been unwise, if not impossible, for him to prevent the retreating Confederates from crossing the Potomac into Virginia. In explaining his course, a prominent officer speaks of him as " a thoroughly educated soldier, a man of lofty character, loyal to the core, yet unknown to party cliques, embarrassed by no military jealousies, prompt, active, untiring, yet discreet, displaying skill as a field-officer hitherto unprecedented ; a soldier, and only a soldier, and ex hibiting, in his despatches and official conduct a modesty and a sense of duty as rare as commendable. We cannot help hoping much from him, and are willing to trust much to him ; . especially as there looks out from all his conduct one quality — an humble recognition that victory is of the Lord, and that to Him belongs the glory." The Pennsylvania Reserve Corps presented to their Com mander-in-Chief a sword, whose blade was of the finest Damascus steel, and whose scabbard was of pure gold, along with valuable accompaniments. Congress acknowleged his brilliant services, and appointed him a Brigadier-General in the regular army. In the autumn, the Army of the Potomac was considerably weakened, by detachments being sent to various distant points. Ascertaining this fact, Lde crossed the Rapidan, in October, moved on Meade's right fiank, and threatened[ his communica tions with the North. Meade, though anxious to give battle, 'yet determined not to do so on Lee's terms, maneuvered his troops by retiring and occupying the strong position of Centre- ville. Lee abandoned the contest, after making several attempts to intercept the Union army, and being severely repulsed, with heavy losses. Meade re-estabhshed his communications, and then advanced on Lee, who retired, first behind the Rappahan nock, which Meade forced, by some brilliant movements, and then to the Rapidan, w^hich Meade crossed on November 26th. An attempt was made to drive Lee to the North Anna ; but owing to the slow arrival of certain troops, and the lateness of the season, the campaign was abandoned. Meade retired to the north side of the Rapidan, terminating the offensive opera tions of 1863. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Before the campaigns of 1864 commenced, the office of Lieu tenant-General was conferred upon U. S. Grant, who assumed command of all the armies of the Union, and established his head-quarters with the Army of the Potomac. "While the main movements were directed by the Lieutenant-General, the immediate command was still retained by General Meade, who personally directed the field movements in the battles of the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, North Anna, Cold Harbor, and in front of Petersburg. For his services in ' these campaigns. Congress confirmed his appointment as a Major-General in the regular army. On this subject, there was, at first, some discus sion in Congress, which drew from Lieutenant-General Grant a letter, in which he said : ***** "I ggg gome objections are raised to Meade's confirmation as Major-General in the regular army. I am sorry this should be so. General Meade is one of our truest men, and ablest officers. He has been constantly ¦with that army, confronting the strongest, best appointed, and most confldent army in the South. He, therefore, has not had the same opportunity of -vrinning laurels so distinctly marked, as have fallen to the lot of other generals. But I defy any man to name a commander who -would do more than Meade haa done, -with the same chances. General Meade -was appointed at my solicitation, after a campaign the most protracted, and covering more severely contested battles, than any of which -we have any account in history. I have been -with General Meade during the -whole campaign ; and I not only made the recom mendation upon a conviction that this recognition of his services was fully won, but that he -was eminently qualified for the command such rank would entitle him to." ***** In all the movements of the Army of the Potomac which resulted in the fall of Petersburg and Richmond, and the sur render of General Lee, with the Army of Northern Virginia, General Meade bore a distinguished part. At the close of the war, he was assigned to the military di-vision of the Atlantic, comprising all the states on the Atlantic coast. Major-General Meade was married, in 1840, to a daughter of the Hon. John Sergeant, of Philadelphia, and has four sons and' three daughters. He is but one of a large family, several of whose members have bravely served the Union cause. Few men are more patriotically devoted to their country. It is hoped that war may ne-ver again put the country in need of his services, and that a grateful people will cherish his remem brance, for the sake of his past deeds of courage and of victory. iiiiiWi'i!iiiiy,«iiii,ij(«''iiii Ml I I ( I i| I I II I'H-tW EngTayea by ¦ff°TT'eItt^od WHLILILftM T. ^mmimMM W,§,A. WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. Thirteen years after the Mayflower landed her pilgrims on the shores of the New World, a plain bark brought the Shermans into Boston harbor. There were three of them, of three different professions : Samuel, an honorable lawyer ; John, a Puritan min ister; and their cousin John, a captain, from whom descended Roger Sherman, one of the signers of the Declaration of Inde pendence. They had come from Dedham, England, with ad vanced ideas of civiV and religious liberty. Their coat of arms bore a lion rampant, and a sea-lion on the crest. The motto was : " Conquer death by virtue." The significance of the lion would be fulfilled, two hundred and thirty years after their landing in America, by a great-grandson of the Hon. Samuel Sherman. In the early part of the present century, a widow, with three children, left her husband's grave in Connecticut, and settled in Ohio, the empire state of the western world. She was the relict of Judge Taylor Sherman. Her son Charles, settled in Lancaster, became an eloquent advocate, and a judge of the Superior Court of the State, He died suddenly, in 1829,,having been seized, as is supposed, with cholera, while presiding over his court. Eleven children were thus left fatherless, with little fortune, but with a devoted mother, and courageous Ihearts. The sixth of these children was William Tecumseh Sherman, who was born February 8th, 1820. His father had so admired the really great Indian chieftain, Tecumseh, that his was one of the names given to the child. John, the able senator from Ohio, is a younger brother. William Tecumseh was one day playing in the sand, and throwing up miniature fortifications^ according to the inventions of his young genius, when the Hon. Thomas Ewing, a resident of Lancaster, entered the widowed mother's dwelling, talked a short time, then went to the saaid-bank, and said to the lad : "Come, my boy, you are going to live with me. I have seen NATIONAL PORTRAITS. your mother, and she has given her consent." The astonished little worker looked at his benefactor, shook off" the sand, and followed him home. He was soon a pupil in the academy of the town. Though but nine years of age, he convinced his teacher and schoolmates that he might yet have a bright career. The remarkable trait which his patron then observed in him, was his ready power of execution, when little matters of business wcre committed to him. Mr. Ewing says that he "never knew so young a boy who would do an errand so correctly and promptly as he. did. He was transparently Jionest, faithful, and reliable. Studious and correct in his habits, his progress in education -was steady and substantial." At the age of sixteen, he was offered a place in the military academy at West Point, by his benefactor, wdiose official position put the appointment in his hands. Young Sherman had a taste for military life, and gladly accepted the new position. So modest, yet self-possessed, and so dignified was he in his examination for a cadetship, that one of the professors remarked : " He is a blooded fellow." As a late writer says: "He had the ingrained qualities of manli ness." He maintained the high respect of the officers and students, was efficient in artillery and in cavalry exercises, and graduated the fifth in the class of 1840. One of his rules, from the first, was to lose no time in military movements. He was soon made a Second-Lieutenant in the Third Artillery, and sent into Florida, to assist in subduing the Indians. There he gained a knowledge of southern swamps, which afterwards proved to be of great use to him and his threatened country. We find him a First-Lieutenant in 1841. He passed nearly five years of dull life, on duty in Fort Moultrie. Then he was sent to the frontier, in California, to guard, the United States from the invasions of the Mexicans. He was not engaged in the severer part of the war with Mexico, but he did well his duty on the frontier. He saw the beginning of the intense excitement for California gold, being at Sacra mento when the first discovery of the golden sands was made. But he was not tempted from his loyal duty to his government. When war had ceased, he repaired to Washington, where he married Ellen Ewing, the accomplished daughter of the honorable Senator from Ohio. The wedding occasion was graced by the presence of an unusual number of distinguished persons, among whom were General Zachaiy Taylor, and the WILLIAM TECUMSE-H SHERMAN. great statesmen, Daniel Webster and Henry Clay. He was then congratulated as Captain Sherman. Military life was so tame, and then held out so little prospect of earnest duty, that, in 1853, he resigned his commission, and accepted a position at the head of a new banking-house in San Francisco, under the title of "Lucas, Turner & Co." There he grew familiar with the finances and the politics of the country. The faithful errand-boy was' the trusty and successful banker. But he seems to have wished for a more active, intellectual life. Having cer tain land interests in Kansas, he went to Leavenworth, and, with some young friends, opened a law-office, the firm being that of Ewing, Sherman, and McCook. Prior to this, he had managed a farm, near Topeka; and his neighbors spoke of his abrupt manner, reserved yet forcible speech and character. As a lawyer, he had an insurmountable objection to pleading in court ; but when consulted, he exhibited a thorough Imowledge of legal principles, a clear, logical perception of the points of equity, and a high sense of justice. Yet he was not quite at home in the law, and a position which would connect him with military affairs was preparing for him. The State of Louisiana founded a military academy, in 1860, at Alexandria, and offered the presidency to Captain Sherman, on a salary of five thousand dollars. He accepted it, and im mediately entered upon his duties. Scarcely had he begun to direct the genius of the young cadets, when mutterings were heard, throughout the South, ominous of war. He believed, from the first, that the Southern people would fight. He met the spirit of rebellion in the class-room. The prospects gave him many a sad thought, for there was everything horrible to be feared for his country, in a civil war. But he had no struggle in coming to a decision in regard to his own duty. He took his pen, on the 18th of January, 1861, and wrote to Governor Moore a most characteristic letter : " As I occupy a quasi military position under this State, I deem it proper to acquaint you that I accepted such position when Louisiana was a State in the Union, and the motto of the Seminary was inserted, in marble, over the main door: 'By the liberality ofthe General Government ofthe United States. The Union: Usto perpetua.' Recent events foreshado-w a great changej and it becomes all men to choose. If Louisiana -withdraws from the Federal Union, J prefer to maintain my allegiance to the old constitution, as long as a fragment of it survives ; and my longer stay here would be wrong in every sense of the word. In that event, I beg you -will send or appoint some authorized agent to NATIONAL PORTRAITS. take charge of the arms and munitions of war here belonging to the State, or direct me -what disposition should be made of them. And, furthermore, as President of the Board of Supervisors, I beg you to take immediate steps to relieve me as Superintendent, the moment the State determines to secede ; for on no earthly account will I do any act, or think any thought, hostile to, or in defiance of, the old government of the United States." The Captain was clearly understood, and relieved. One might have met him, shortly afterwards, as the capable superintendent of a street railroad, in St. Louis, Missouri, on a salary not half so large as that he had just abandoned. But he was so heroic as to make any sacrifice for loyalty to his country, and to engage in any honest labor by which he might be useful. Such manly independence is always sublime. It was worthy of his ancestors. But how could he rest in private life, after the loud call that thundered from the same Charleston harbor with which he had once been so familiar ? There were many in the country who thought that Sherman ought to be doing something else than managing a city railroad. Up the great river, was a certain unassuming graduate of West Point, named Grant, who was offering his services to the government. His friends, among whom was Mr. Ewing, urged Sherman to offer himself He hastened to the capital of the nation. " Civil war is imminent, and we are unprepared for it," said he, to Secretary Cameron. " I have come to offer my services to the country, in the struggle before us." The reply astonished the applicant, who understood the Southern spirit, and had measured somewhat the vastness of the work of defence and restoration. It was, that the excitement would probably soon be over, and that few more troops would be needed. The Secretary of War was also surprised at the earnestness of Sherman. President Lincoln, whose call for 75,000 men was bringing rapidly an army into the field, smiled at the serious enthusiasm of the man, and said : " We shall not need many more like you : the whole affair will soon blow over." The Puritanic Tecumseh went away with an increased anxiety for h^s country. He felt that to expect anything short of a most gigantic war, was an absurdity. He was then almost alone in his estimate of the fearful confiict. The appointment of Captain Sherman to an important com mand, was mentioned to him by those -who knew him best. He gallantly replied : " I do not wish a prominent place ; this is to AVILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. be a long and bloody war." He was commissioned as a Colonel of the Thirteenth Infantry, in the regular army, May 14th, 1861, under General McDowell. At Bull Run, he urged on the brigade which had been placed under him, into the severest of the battle, and faltered not until he was chagrined by the order to retreat. His conduct was signally brilliant during that whole engage ment. His brigade is said to have been the only one that retired from the field in good order, making a firm stand at the bridge opposite Washington, ready to defend the Capital in case the enemy should pursue the panic-stricken forces of the, govern ment. It Was this unexampled service that won him, in the next August, the appointment of Brigadier-General of volun teers. We next meet him in Kentucky, where he was compelled to be wary of the enemy, saying: " Our forces are too small to do good,, and too large to be sacrificed." He insisted upon having men enough for a forward movement. On being asked how many would be needed for defence, and for aggression, he said: " Two hundred thousand men." This reply startled many eminent men in the Cabinet and in Congress. They could not believe him, when he said : " .That to make a successful, advance against the enemy, strongly posted at all strategic points from the Mississippi to Cumberland Gap, would require an army two hundred thousand strong!" The reinforcements could notbe granted, and he asked to be relieved. He was succeeded by General Buell. We have not space to describe the part he took in forwarding men and supplies to assist General Grant, in the victories at Forts Henry andDpnelson; nor tell how he com manded a division at Pittsburg J^anding— was fiercely attacked, had fovjr horses shot under him in one day, saved two strong brigades from a panic, kept hisi wounded arm in a sling, con ducted a slight retreat with success, took a new position, man aged the artillery against a charge by the enemy, whose horses were sent back with empty st^ddles, or.piled up in heaps.on the field, and finally, how he sent the foe retreating to Corinth. Of his generalship, the courageous General Rosseau said: " He gave us our first lessons in the field in the face of an enemy;, and of all the men I ever saw, he is the most untiring, vigilant, and patient devoid of ambition, incapable of envy, he is brave, gallant, and just." Nor can w'e dwell upon his valorous achievements at Corinth, NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in the bayous above Vicksburg, nor in the various attempts to capture -that proud stronghold on the Mississippi. He was then a Major-General, but was ranked by General McClernand, who was sent to assist General Grant. It was, therefore, necessary for General Sherman to fall back in the command of his old corps; and in giving up the large division to his superior in rank, he most gracefully and loyally said, in his fare-well-order to the soldiers : " We failed in accomplishing one purpose of our movement — the capture of Vicksburg ; but we were part of a whole. Ours was but part of a combined movement .... We were on time : unforeseen contingencies must have delayed the others .... A new commander is now here to lead you. He is chosen by the President of the United States, who is charged by the Constitution to maintain and defend it ; and he has the undoubted right .to select his own agents .... There are honors enough in reserve for all, and work enough, too. Let each do his appropriate part, and our nation must, in the end, emerge from this dire conflict, purified and ennobled by the fires which now test its strength and purity." • General Sherman still handled his corps wdth skill in the region of Vicksburg ; now keeping the Confederate General Johnston at bay, now assisting in routing him at Jackson, the capital of Mississippi, and there destroying all that could be of value to the enemy. About seven, one morning, he received word from General Grant to make some speedy marches ; and one hour from that moment, his whole army was in motion. Of his movements and merits, at this period, let General Grant tell us : " His demonstrations at Haines' Bluff, in April, to hold the enemy about Vicksburg, while the army was securing a foothold east of the Mississippi ; his rapid marches to join the army afterwards; his management at Jackson, Mississippi, in the first attack ; his almost unequalled march from Jackson to Bridgeport, and passage of the Black river ; his securing Walnut Hills, on the eighteenth of May, attest his great merit as a soldier." While General Grant was taking Vicksburg, Sherman was defeating Johnston, in such a brilliant manner, that, in addition to what has just been noted, some one said: "The dispersion of Johnston's army entitles General Sherman ta more honor than usually falls to the lot of one man to earn." On one of those days there was no small stir at his head-quarters. His WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. wife, and son bearing his own name, visited him. The lad remained with his father; the Corps adopted him as the Child of the Army. But soon disease took away his young life. The iron General showed all the tenderness of a father whose life had been bound up in the lad's life. In his most touching reply to the Thirteenth Corps, after the brave soldiers had expressed their sympathy, he wrote : " My poor Willie was, or thought he was, a sergeant of the Thirteenth. Child as he was, he had the enthusiasm, the pure love of truth, honor, and love Of countiy, which should animate all soldiers. God only knows why he should die thus young. He is dead, but will not be forgotten till those who knew him in life have followed him to that same mysterious end." The soldiers raised a monument to his memory. In all the general movements that resulted in the possession of Chattanooga, the defence of Knoxville, and the great moun tain victories. General Sherman was conspicuous. On the part of himself and his men, there was many " a brilliant display of valor baptized in blood." It was during those days that he thus replied to a certain Baltimore lady, who had reminded him of the "invasion" in which he w'as engaged, to her surprise: " All I pretend to say, on earth, as in heaven, man must submit to some arbiter. He must not throw off his allegiance to his government or his God, without just reason and cause. The South has no cause ; not even a pretext. Indeed, by her unjustifiable course, she has thrown away the proud history of the past, and laid open her fair country to the tread of devastating war. She bantered and bullied us to the confiict. Had we declined battle, America would have sunk back coward and craven, meriting the contempt of all mankind .... I would not subjugate the South in the term so oft'ensively assumed; but I would make every citizen of the land obey the common law, submit to the same that we do — no worse, no better; our equals, and not our superiors .... I am married, have a wife and six children living in Lancaster, Ohio. My course has been an eventful one ; but I hope, when the clouds of anger and passion are dispersed, and truth emerges bright and clear, you, and all who knew me in early years, will not blush that we were once dear friends. Tell — , fpr me, that I hope she may live to realize that the doctrine of 'Secession' is as monstrous, in our civil code, as disobedience was in the Divine law." With such views. General Sherman prepared to capture NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Atlanta, the key to the whole South — the point on which her destinl^ hinged. He was then the great commander of the army in Georgia. By profound strategy, he divided the forces of the enemy — a part being drawn off to Jonesboro' — and he threw his army, like a wedge, between them ; so that the fall of Atlanta was certain. All behind him seemed full of danger. His base was hardly Chattanooga, but Nashville, and divisions of the Confederate forces were greatly annoying him in the rear. The whole loyal country was full of anxiety, lest his army would be forced to abandon the prize. The logic of many mere news-readers, or fire-side strategists, was that Sher man must retreat. Yet Sherman did not retreat. He "pushed on and took Atlanta, ending logic and campaign both at once." His sublimely simple message was : " Atlanta is ours, and fairly won." In all patriotic homes throughout the entire loyal land, from the President's mansion, to the forest cabin in which, a brave distant soldier -was hourly remembered, there were praises of Sherman mingling with expressions of gratitude to God. At the call of the Chief Magistrate, a day of special thanksgiving was observed. The name of "Atlanta " was inscribed on the battle-flags; hut the to-wn was ordered to be abandoned by the inhabitants, and comparatively destroyed. For there were other plans, other marches, other conquests in view. Sherman, in concert with Lieutenant-General Grant, was thinking of the march to the sea. Let the enemy threaten Kentucky, or move on Nashville, or do his utmost to draw the rightful invader from his purpose, it would all be in vain. General Thomas would defeat all the operations of General Hood. Our hero was fully resolved, as he said, " to move through Georgia, smashing things, to the sea." It was the year 1864. The Lieutenant-General says, in his report : " Having concentrated his troops at Atlanta by tbe fourteenth of November, he commenced his march, threatening both Augusta and Macon. His coming-out point could not be definitely flxed. Having to gather his subsistence as he marched through the country, it was not impossible that a force inferior to his own might compel him to head for such point as he could reach, instead of such as he might prefer. The blindness of the enemy, however, in ignoring his movement, and sending Hood's army — the only considerable force he had west of Richmond, and east of the Mississippi river — northwai-d on WILLLAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. an offensive campaign, left the country open, and Sherman's route to his own choice." The Confederates said that "his march would only lead him to the 'Paradise of Fools.' " But as he moved onward, threat ening points which he did not intend to capture, taking cities when he was not expected, destroying the resources of the enemy, cutting the Confederacy into two parts, publishing everywhere the Emancipation Proclamation to the slaves, show ing every kindness to that long enslaved race, and inviting their able-bodied men to join the conquering army, it was discovered that his march -would lead him iuto the proud city of Savannah. It was defended with all the power and courage possible ; but its fate was sealedi The whole North was for weeks without a word from Sher man. The peopl e were in great anxiety and suspense. At length, came rumors of his success, then despatches, then more fuU re ports. Again were there universal rejoicings and public thanks gi-ving to the " God of battles." How simply did he describe his movement on Fort McAllister: "I went down with Howard, and took a look at it, and I said to my boys : ' Boys, I don't think there are over four hundred in that fort ; but there it is, and I think we might as well have it.' " No sooner was this said, than there was one forward spring, and in fifteen minutes the fort was taken; And there, at sunset on the memorable thirteenth of December, the man of mighty marches fulfilled the covenant made with his iron heroes at Atlanta, twenty-nine days before,, and hundreds of miles away. Nine days after, he was in Savannah, sending to "his Excellency, President Lin coln," the following cheerful message : " I beg leave to present you, as a Christmas gift, the city of Savannah, with one hundred and fifty guns, and plenty of ammunition ; also, about twenty- five thousand bales of cotton." But the daring genius which, under Omnipotence, had as tounded the worid by. his brilliant achievements, had not yet gained the object intended. The. marvellous campaign which brought him to the sea, was but part of a grand plan. He must make Savannah a pivot, swing his great army round, and march northward, severing again the Confederacy,- and' joining General Grant in the final victory. This seemed to 'many of the wise and prudent a most dangerous undertaking. They united with the enemy in saying: "While the campaign through NATIONAL PORTRAITS, Georgia was harmless and safe, this is a march into the jaws of destruction," In all his movements. General Sherman sought the endorsement of the Lieutenant-General, who says, in his report : " The confidence he manifested in this letter, of being able to march up and join me, pleased me ; and, without waiting for a reply to my letter of the eighteenth, I directed him on the twenty-eighth of December, to make preparations to start, as he proposed, without delay, to break up the railroads in North and South Carolina, and join the aimies operating against Richmond as soon as he could. By the first of February, General Sherman's whole army was in motion from Savannah, He captured Columbia, South Carolina, on the seventeenth; thence moved ou Goldsboro^, North Carolina, via Fayetteville, reaching the latter place on the twelfth of March, opening up communication with General Schofield by way of Cape Fear River, On the fifteenth, he resumed his march on Goldsboro'. . He met a force of the enemy at Averysboro', and after a severe fight, defeated and compelled it to retreat," He pushed on, driving Johnston from Bentonsville, entering Goldsboro', occupying Raleigh, and preparing to make, a bold stroke against the enemy. Glorious tidings reached him — General Lee had surrendered ! He received, on the fifteenth of April, a letter from General Johnston, asking if some arrangement could not be effected that would prevent the farther useless effusion of blood. Correspond ence was thus opened. A few days after, the two chieftains met face to face. With courtesy and dignity, they discussed the terms of peace. The conditions which they agreed upon, did not meet with the approval of the President, on the ground that they involved certain questions which could not be speedily settled. General Grant was immediately sent, with instructions for Sherman to demand an unconditional surrender. The chieftains again met, and the result was the disbandment of Johnston's army, upon substantially the same terms as were given to General Lee. In effect, this was the end of that war which Sherman had at first predicted would not be closed until the resources of the South were exhausted. What manner of man has William Tecumseh Sherman been during all this time? Those who best knew him wiU furnish us with material for description. One portrays him as "tall, lithe, almost delicately formed. When excited, erect and com- WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. manding. Face stern, yet smiling as a boy's when pleased. Every movement, both of mind and body, quick and nervous. A brilliant talker, announcing his plans, but concealing his real intention. When leading a column, looking as if born only to command." In his relations with his fellow-officers, he exhibited gentle ness, sympathy, justice, and respect. He was sensitively con siderate of the feelings of his friends ; he would permit no abuse or ridicule of any one attached to his person. Yet his personal attachments exerted no influence over his official relations. In all his actions he was governed by a high and conscientious regard to duty. His memory was marvelous, like that of the first Napoleon. He was minutely observant of everything in his army. His integrity seemed to pervade every element in his character. He especially despised all men who were interested in the war only for their aggrandizement. The atmosphere of honesty about him tended to destroy the lust for gain. His patriotism appeared to his companions as pure as the faith of a child ; there was in it a vital force, which caused him to forget all merely personal considerations. He has been styled an original, rather than a representative man ; a pure outgrowth of American civilization ; a striking type of our institutions, easily comprehending the national idea of pop ular liberty.. No one was more simple in his habits of life, during all his campaigns. He was sociable in the highest sense. He could throw off the responsibilities of the hour, when the time came for rest, and enjoy the pleasantries of his comrades. Having an appreciation for wit and humor, he was often the centre and life of the occasion. Sometimes familiar, yet none could take undue liberties with him. He conversed freely, yet was extremely reticent ; knowing how to keep his own oounsel, and never be traying his purposes. Ever cautious, sometimes suspicious, yet never deceptive. His unmeasured scorn and contempt fell only upon whatever was pretentious, spurious, arrogant, and dishon orable. " He never failed to recognize and pay a hearty tribute to unpretentious merit, courage, capacity. Christian manliness, and simplicity." Sparing of promises; but his word, once given, was sacredly regarded as an obligation. There was " a depth of tenderness alon to the love of woman behind that face furrowed with the lines of anxiety and care. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. and those eyes, which darted keen and suspicious glances. Little children clung to the General's knees, and nestled in his arms with an intuitive faith and affection." At Savannah, his head-quarters and private room were often the play-ground of hosts of little ones, against whom the door never was closed, whatever the business pending. Anecdotes by the volume are told of him while on his great marches ; now answering the rude, according to their rudeness ; again, revealing to the helpless the depth of his compassionate heart. If any one word can express him, it is Intensity. A graphic pen has sketched him as " a genius, with greatness grim and terrible, yet simple and unaffected as a child. The thunderbolt or sunbeam, as circumstances call him out." Thousands are as ready to-day, as when he and his heroes were marshalled in the final review at the national capital, to shout, with an eye turned to the Preserver of all life, Long live General Sherman ! @=®< ^v^v. £!!'«,.d..o.-.jnlu.g'o A^t. '0(.iij;rpS3inaii'n'ai-lS61i]rjriUteHulli!r&Cuin&t dario office of airdlarnrtcOTrcaEflisTana^ OLIVER OTIS HOWARD. Oliver Otis Howard was born in Leeds, Kennebec. County, Maine, on the eighth of November, 1830. Like most New England boys who have become distinguished in the history of their countiy, he inherited the care and {training, of edijcated parents, whose estate jvas sufficient to render them independent without the enervating influences that sometimes accompany wealth. To the privileges of home were added those of the common school. in an enlightened community. When nine years of age, he was left fatherless. Being the eldest of three sons, he shared with his discreet and Christian mother the responsibilities of the family. He had inherited unusual, energy of character, which was strengthened and developed by the circumstances of his youth. For a time he lived with his maternal uncle, the Hon. John Otis, of Hallowell, where he enjoyed ampler means of education. If his rustic independence sometimes brought him into collision with the, haughty lads of the city, his courage did not suffer in the school of scorn. Whatever he undertook he pursued -wiith an obstinate perseverance. When he had decided to enter college, he completed his preparations in six months, and was enrolled at Bowdoin at the age of sixteen. To. meet his ex penses, he won time enough, from the college terms, to teach school, still maintaining a high standing in his class, especially in Mathematics. Graduated at the age of twenty, he received an unsolicited appointment as a cadet in the Military Academy at West Point. It was secured to him by his uncle, then a member of Congress. After much deliberation, and with due respect -to his mother's dread of the military service, even in those times of peace, he took his place among the cadets, standing at the head of his class the first year, and finally graduating the fourth on the list. Respite all reproaches, he exhibited a moral earnestness in adhering to the highest principles of conduct. He married NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the accomplished Miss E. A. Waite, of Portland. He was as signed to the Ordnance Department, and for several years he served at various arsenals with h,onor to himlelf. While at the Kennebec Arsenal, he procured for the residents of the post the advantages of a public-school system. In 1856 he was ordered to Florida, as the Ordnance Officer of the Department. General Harney was then prosecuting a campaign against the Indians, and there Lieutenant Howard had his first experience with an army in the field. He was afterwards called to West Point, to take the office of Assistant Professor of Mathematics, where he remained until the breaking out of the war. At West Point he w^on the respect pf the Academic Board, as well as of his fello-vg-officers and all who knew him, by the consistent Christian character which he maintained. He was untiring in his benevolent labors among the poor at West Point and vicinity. He organized Mission Sunday-Schools, and in every manner possible promoted their religious welfare. He instituted semi-weekly meetings, for prayer and reading, among the cadets, in his leisure hours, thus winning esteem for his earnest Christianity. When the call to arms first sounded through the land, in 1861, he believed it to be his duty to respond, although hife position was most pleasant at West Point, and his family a treasure of bliss. Early in May he offered his services to the Governor of Maine. Scarcely waiting for an answer, he went to his native State, and was appointed Colonel of the Third Maine Regiment of Volunteers. By the fifth of June he was on his way to the seat of war, with his regiment complete in men. In the first battle of Bull Run he commanded a brigade of four regiments. Held for some time as a reserve, he was among the latest to go into action. He led forward his brigade in two lines, under a severe fire, and displayed a coolness and courage remarkable for one in his first severe experience of war. He attempted to dislodge the enemy from a thickly wooded height, but was compelled to withdraw his brave men, because the fianking force of Johnston was pressing toward the rear. In the following September he was commissioned a Brigadier- General of Volunteers. In the first advance to the Rappahannock he bore an active part, commanding a force in a reconnoissance, and driving before him the troops of the Confederate General Stuart, who had been his classnjate and intimate friend at OLIVER OTIS HOWARD. West Point. The expedition was so conducted as to elicit the commendation of General Sumner. In the Peninsular campaign. General Howard's brigade was the first to land at Ship Point, whence he moved up and joined the main army at Yorktown. It was his desire, after examining the works, to lead an assaulting column against them, believing that it would be successful, if done without delay. But other counsels prevailed. The first battle in which his brigade was thoroughly engaged, was that of Fair Oaks, June 1st, 1862, where the enemy, fiushed with partial successes on the previous day, came furiously upon one of his regiments, in order to break through the lines. General Howard, in person, rallied his men, and re-established their position, which they gallantly held all the day. Soon after, he rapidly advanced under " a hail-storm of bullets," leading the brigade in person, and relieving a part of General French's line. Still pushing on, riding in front, and cheering the enthusiastic troops, he ordered a charge. They swept all before them. A musket-ball struck through his fore arm, but he did not falter. Binding the severe wound with a handkerchief, given him by his aide and brother. Lieutenant C. H. Howard, he dashed forward on the second horse that had been wounded under him. His brother was soon disabled by a shot. Many gallant officers fell ; many a brave soldier was slain. General Howard's horse was killed, and at almost that instant anothpr ball broke through the elbow of the bandaged arm. He held up his wounded arm, and pointed forward ; the troops raised the shout, and pushed onward. But the shattered arm fell Uke a dead weight at his side, and he was compelled to turn his command over to Colonel Barlow. The brigade had done its noble work, advancing considerably beyolid the line of battle, and its progress was voluntarily stayed. Without a horse, General Howard walked back until he found a surgeon, who began to afford some relief to his -woundj Then seeing his wounded brother coming, leaning upon two soldiers, he seemed to say, as did the hero of Sutph en, " Thy necessity is yet greater than mine," and directed that attention should first be given to the Lieutenant. Toward evening, the General submitted to an amputation of his right arm, and the next day the two Howards started for their home in Maine. Such was his persistent courage. It had some reward. All along the homeward route he was hailed as j" the hero of Fair Oaks," and NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the citizens of his o-wn town gave him a distinguished reception. His temperate habits promoted a rapid recovery. On the Fourth of July he delivered a patriotic oration of two hours' length, the first of those eloquent speeches which thrilled the hearts of a loyal people. During his sixty days' leave he contributed largely to enable Maine to raise its full quota of troops before any other State. General Howard was again in the field at the second Bull Run battle, commanding the rear-guard of the army on the retreat from Centreville. In the Maryland campaign he per formed valiant service at South Mountain ; and after General Sedgwick was wounded at Antietam, he was given command of the second division. He restored the lines in conjunction with his artillery, and held the ground until victory decided the day against the enemy. Commanding this division at Freder icksburg, in December, he was the first to enter the town. After a severe fight in the streets, the enemy was driven from it to the heights. In the famous assault afterwards, his division was hotly engaged, gaining new ground, lying down and hold ing it until dark, and then intrenching. General Howard's commission as Major-General dates No vember 29th, 1862. In April, the next year, he was assigned tq the command of the Eleventh Army Corps, which met the brunt of the attack at Chancellorsville. His nine thousand men, in an advanced and exposed position, were overwhelmingly attacked by twenty-five thousand (according to the official re ports of the enemy), and compelled to retire. The next great occasion in which General Howard was prominent, was the battle of Gettysburg. After General Reynolds was mortally wounded, his command was given over to General Howard, whose valor was often signally displayed. During one of thc fiercest engagements, when it required the personal energy and moral power of both officers and men to maintain their lines and resist the advance of an encouraged enemy, and when the sllot fell in showers. General Howard was recognized by his badge of the empty sleeve, galloping in front of a regiment, and shouting "Forward!" The soldiers rajsed a cheer of assent, pushed forward, and gained a position behind the stone walls or fences, where they resisted the advance of the foe. When General Meade arrived, he rode with General Howard along his lines, examining by moonlight the grounds, and finally OLIVER OTIS HOWARD. determining to bring the whole army forward and put it in position at that point. It was thus prepared, by having a well chosen position, for one of the grandest battles of modern times. General Howard occupied Cemetery Hill during the' terrific cannonade of the two following days, when a hundred guns poured their fire upon the devoted spot. On the third day the enemy made an assault, advancing upon the very slope of the hill ; , and great credit was given to Howard's cOrps for their obstinacy in holding their ground, which was "the key to General ¦ Meade's position." The enemy could not dislodge them. Even when it was suggested that the troops must be withdrawn in order to save a remnant. General Howard persisted in defying the enemy. At his request General Meade came, inspected the ground, and assented to Howard's plan. This was one of the displays of courage on the part of the heroes who won the day at Gettysburg. The Eleventh Corps was transferred to the Southwest, and was led by General Howard in the relief of Tennessee. His troops made the celebrated charge in the night engagement at Lookout Valley, which may be considered the initiative of the succeeding glorious charges up the steeps of Lookout Mountain ¦and of Missionary Ridge. Those were heroic deeds amid ro mantic scenes ; in one of them the battle was above the clouds. In tbe relief of Knoxville, this corps and its commander received the warmest private and official commendations of General Sherman. On the consolidation of the Eleventh and Twelfth corps, in April, 1864, General Howard was assigned to the command of the Fourth Army Corps, consisting of twenty-five thousand effective men, who bore an active part in all the operations of the Army of the Cumberland, and whose various successes were largely attributable to the energy of their leader, and his promptness in obeying orders. He was much younger than the three division - commanders, Stanley, Newton, and Wood, who were officers in the regular army, bt(t they evinced the fullest confidence in the judgnient and ability of their superior officer. The Fourth Corps did its full share of labor and fighting at various points on the contested route to Atlanta, rejoicing with General Howard in the confidence bestowed upon him by Generals Thomas and Sherman. At their recommenda tion, the President telegraphed his appointment as the successor of the fallen hero. General McPhereon, and on the twenty-sixth NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of July he assumed the command of the Army of the Tennessee. Two days later he fought successfully the Confederate General Hood, defeating him in every assault. After brave conduct at Atlanta, he and his army spent a month of hard marching and fighting among the mountains in defeating Hood's attempts to get in the rear of General 'Sherman and destroy his communi cations. In the grand march from Atlanta to the sea. General Howard's army composed the right wing, moving independently for the first two weeks, and Kilpatrick's cavalry reporting to him. He threatened Macon, while the left wing, attended by General Sherman, moved to Milledgeville. All went forward harmoni ously and with triumph, as the whole world knows. As there were no remarkable battles in this march, many have supposed that there were scarcely any conflicts with the enemy, or exposure to his fire. But collisions by heads of columns were of daily occurrence, and frequently the enemy was forced back step by step, having selected some advantageous spot, and disputing the ground obstinately for hours. General Howard was therefore daily exposed to musketry or artilleiy fire, before the fall of Savannah, The Confederates were particu larly stubborn in disputing the passage of the rivers, always burning the bridges, and then posting themselves upon the opposite banks to annoy the Federal troops when they were attempting to lay their pontoon boats. New devices were often n ceded to meet the unexpected obstacles which an unknown topography presented. General Howard seems to have had a peculiar constitutional fitness for his position and duties in these campaigns. Regular and methodical in personal habits, he never failed to be punctual and prompt in carrying out his part of any plan. To this end he would bring to bear the whole force of his character, shrinking from no amount of exposure or labor ; diligent, watchful, and untiring. Although small in stature, and not unusually hardy iri constitution, yet his inviolate temperance in all things secured a physical strength and endurance equal to every occasion. And for the same reason there were never times of relaxation or reaction when he must be excused from duty or dangers. The general features of the Carolina campaign were very similar to those of the march to Savannah. The heavy rains, and the more numerous streams, made it somewhat more difficult. OLIVER OTIS HOWARD. The burning of Columbia will always be regarded as the marlced incident of this campaign. And as General Howard's troops occupied the city, and the General himself was present, it is proper to add a word upon this subject. No one, it is believed, not eveu' the greatest sufferers at Columbia, have ever held General Howard responsible for the burning of their city. There was cotton burning in the streets when the Union troops entered the town, set on fire by the Confederates on their retreat. One brigade was established by General Howard in the city, to preserve order and hold the town. Liquor was' given to these soldiers on every hand — probably to conciliate them, as the inhabitants were wofuUy aflxighted. A high wind afterwards sprang up, and very soon the fires began to break out. General Howard was soon in the streets, and meeting many drunken men, he decided to have that brigade removed from the city ; and bringing in a fresh di-vision of troops, he employed them all the night in endeavor ing to stay the flames. In spite of every effort, the fire raged, and eighty-one squares were almost completely consumed. Many of the citizens of Columbia, and of other towns along the route of the army, speak in terms of commendation of General Howard, because of his acts of kindness. If it were beyond his power to aid any worthy person who appealed to him, his whole demeanor was kindly, and every such person went away with a grateful remembrance of the interview. He never lost sight of his duty as a Christian, although his time was devoted to the practices of war. In fact, his character was so permeated and lighted up by the Christian spirit, that it appeared in nearly all his acts and conversation. His religion was a part of himself, and yet it found expression in habitual practices and exercises positively and , exclusively religious. For instance, no matter how early the day's march commenced, or how late he was in the saddle at night, the day was begun and ended by prayer ; and no matter what the cir cumstances of eating a meal, it was always preceded by an offer of thanks to the great Giver. It was his habit on Sundays, when not in battle or on the march, to summon a chaplain, assemble the various detachments of troops belonging to. his head-quarters, and have a brief religious service. On these occasions he would sometimes; himself address a few remarks suggested by the. service, to the soldiers and officers present! NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Such words were eagerly listened to, and often :these Sabbath services were deeply interesting and touching, and left an abid ing impression upon those present. He also was accustomed to visit the hospitals on Sunday, when practicable, and not only spoke words of cheer and comfort to the sick and wounded, but was often strengthened and encouraged in turn by the heroic utterances and behavior of those brave men. Soon after Lee's surrender, when he had arrived at Richmond with his army, having marched from North Carolina, General Howard was summoned to Washington by the Secretary of War, and, on his arrival, requested to take charge of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands. After a few hours' consideration he accepted the position, not -without misgiviiigs as to his own fitness and abilities for it, but with a firm reliance upon Divine help to aid him in its difficult and delicate duties, and sustain him in the arduous and untried responsibilities. The appointment seemed to meet the approbation of the entire country. He was known to be humane, and at the same time to have proved himself able and efficient as an oflicer in every position held during the war. Nothing had been done in the organization of this Bureau ex cept the passage of the bill by Congress, and even this was found to be quite inadequate in some respects for practical operations. The work was almost superhuman, but the Commissioner gave his whole mind and might to his duties ; and it is believed no one could have given better satisfaction to the Government or the people. In his tours of inspection he addressed both white and colored audiences, and by his conciliatory words and meas ures did much to reconcile the property owners and the freed laborers to their condition. Providence, who raised him up for victories in war, has committed to him the greater work of promoting peace, humanity, and happiness. In admiration of his noble character, he has been called the Havelock of the American army. Q aPhxTtogra^ "EngraTsd ly R Wutedmrch i^MiiLiF- m oiimmiDAM iPUoT^Ty^^c Entered. accordrngtoAct cf Congress ui-flie7earlS661[yyi!:e Unttei-fc C niiliederjE a£^'ic crfilie distDCt court of tbeTfinted Si ate sia aud for -ihe eastern chsnurl of Peiiu.>;^vanki PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN. The name Sheridan, has long been a bright star of the Emerald Isle. Thomas, and his son Richard, have been cele brated in dramatic circles, wherever English literature is appre ciated. But whether Sheridan, the impaigrant, who left Ireland and landed in Boston, was any relative of theirs, we do not know ; enough, that his now famous son, Philip Henry, was born in Boston, in the year 1831. It was a long journey for little Philip, when he was borne into Perry County, Ohio, where his father located on the great thoroughfare of western travel. With his Catholic neighbors, he was often taken to the church of St, Joseph, at Somerset, said to be the oldest house of public worship in the State. Fondness for the noble horse was his early passion. When five years of age, he was one day met by some older lads, who sought amusement, and proposed that Philip should take his first grand ride. It pleased him. They placed him upon an unbridled horse, that was grazing in the pasture, and, to their astonishment, away went the steed over the fence, and out of sight. The child clung fast, and was carried into a tavern shed, more than a mile distant, where the horse was recognized, and the rider pronounced brave enough for an Indian hunter. Philip was thenceforth a hero in the neighborhood ; for the horse was known to be vicious, and to have unsaddled excellent riders. They were prepared forthe later expl^ts of " Cavaliy Sheridan." When old enough to leave home, he appeared in Zanesville with his horse and cart, making his own way in the world. Faithful, active, frank, and intelligent, he attracted the attention of a member of Congress, whose home was in the town. An elder brother, and other friends, spoke of a cadetship in the military academy, at West Point, for the young cartman : the Congressman secured the appointment. In 1848, Philip passed the examinations, and was enrolled in that institution. He ranked high, even among such class-mates as McPherson, 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Schofield, and Terrill. He was graduated brevet second-lieu tenant in the United States infantry. There was a defence to be maintained against Mexico, and in 1853, young Sheridan was sent to Fort Duncan, on the Rio Grande, to render his first practical military service in a perilous country, exposed to the savageness of the Apache and COmanche Indians. There was soon an occasion to test his valor. He and two comrades -n^ere one day outside the fort, when a band of Apache Indians appeared; the chief leaped frora his "fiery mustang " to seize his prisoners. In an instant Sheridan's eye kindled into admiration for the horse, and springing upon him, he galloped away to Fgrt Duncan. Summoning, the troops, ordering his pistols, without dismounting, he hastened back, as a true cavalryman, to rescue his two companions, who were heroically fighting for their lives. One shot, and an Indian fell dead at the feet of the Lieutenant's horse. The soldiers came up, and the savages were ridden down, until few escaped. This valiant deed was, however, rebuked by the commandant of the fort, on the ground that the Lieutenant was away from his command. That jealous, irritated officer, was afterwards a general in the Confederate army. For two years Sheridan endured his displeasure, doing good service in making defences and explorations, when he at length sought a different post of duty. Promoted to a full lieutenant, he was, for a time, assigned to the command of Fort Wood, in New York harbor. Next he was sent to the Pacific coast, where he commanded an escort of men who were surveying the route for a railway connecting San Francisco with the Columbia river. This service won him a mention in Congress in the highest terms. We follow him to Fort Vancouver, displaying his dashing courage against the Yokima Indians^ and winning admiration from them, as well as worthier praise from his sijperior officers. After the " Yoldiua Reservation " was formed, he was appointed to command this Indian domain; and gaining the confidence of his wild subjects, he administered their affairs tO the entire satisfaction of the government. He created a new military post at Yamhill, soutji- west of Fort Vancouver, where he lived on the coarsest fare, passed days of danger, made bronzing marches, and prepared himself for activity in the greatest war of modern times. With the rank of Captain, he was sent to Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, Missouri, in the autumn of 1861. On, his arrival, he PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN. was appointed president of the board which audited the claims that arose under the administration of General Fremont, in the west. It was a practical business affair, performed with such courtesy and ability, that he was given the position of Chief Quartermaster and Commissary of the Western army. An appreciative staff officer thus wrote of him : " A modest, quiet little man was our Quartermaster. Yet nobody could deny the vitalizing energy and masterly force "of his presence, when he had occasion to exert himself. Neat in person, courteous in demeanor, exact in the transaction of business, and most accu rate in matters appertaining to the regulations, orders, and general military custom, it was no wonder that our acting Chief Quartermaster should have been universally liked. Espe cially was he in favor socially, for it soon became known that he was, off duty, a most genial companion. Whenever he did allow his ambition to appear, it appeared to be of a moderate cast. ' He was the sixty-fourth captain on the list, and with the chances of war, he thought he might soon be major.' Such were the terms in which the future Major-General spoke of his promotion. No visions of brilliant stars, single or dual, glittered on the horizon of his life. If he could pluck an old leaf, and gild the same for his shoulders' wear, he was satisfied. If any one had suggested the possibility of a brigadiership, our Quar termaster would have supposed it meant in irony. Yet he was even then recognized as a man of vigorous character. . . .Not a clerk or orderly, but treasured some act of kindness done by Captain Sheridan." His labors were very arduous. Everything, at that period of the war, needed organizing. The system of obtaining and forwarding supplies was imperfect. It was not strange, there fore, if the army that in the spring of 1862 was fighting terribly for the salvation of Missouri, could not be , supplied perfectly with all that was needed. Nor was it surprising that there was a slight collision between him and General Curtis. But the affair was soon settled, and after making purchases of horses in Wisconsin for the army. Captain Sheridan was appointed Chief Quartermaster of the department, under General Halleck, then at Corinth, Mississippi. After the retreat of the Confederate forces from that place, there was a, demand for officers in the cavalry service, that swift pursuit might be made. The attention of the superior officers was turned to Sheridan. He was at ...NATIONAL PORTRAITS, once commissioned Colonel of the second regiment of Michigan cavalry^ and proved "the right man in the right place." He was in his field of success when attached to Elliot's cavalry force, enduring hardships, making raids into dangerous regions, destroying rail-roads and stores of the enemy, gaining a victory over Forest's bold riders, and soon finding Chalmers with nine regiments, facing him with but two. It was a perilous hour, but it suggested an admirable strategy. Colonel Sheridan sent ninety men around to fall on the rear of the enemy, while he would attack the front. The daring plan was successful. The enemy, surprised, terrified, aud routed, fled in confusion, while the -victors pursued him for twenty miles. General Grant, ever ready to crown merit, commended him ; and on the first day of July, 1862, he was deservedly made a Brigadier-General, He rendered signal services, during the summer, in Mississippi and Kentucky, defending Louisville from capture and pillage. In the organization of the Army of the Cumberland, General Sheridan was assigned to the command of the division of McCook's corps which constituted the right wing of the army. After the terrific battle of Murfreesboro', where all seemed for so long doubtful, but where the result was one of the grandest triumphs, at the very hour that President Lincoln was signing the Emancipation Proclamation of January, 1863, our cavalry hero was one of the eleven brigadiers of whom General Rose- cranz said, in his report : " They ought to be made major- generals in our service," Sheridan received the appointment of Major-General, dated from the last day of 1862. It is quite impossible to separate biography from history, during such eventful times as those in which were fought the many battles that gained Chattanooga, and held it for the Union. In some of those fierce engagements among the mountains, " the divisions of Wood and Sheridan were wading breast deep in the valley of death." Victory followed victory. The eyes of the generals were looking toward Atlanta. General Grant was summoned to Washington in March, 1864, to receive the commission of Lieutenant-General of the armies of the United States, He would thenceforth be in the eastern department. He had already marked General Sheridan as one of the few great leaders in the future campaigns, Sheridan was relieved of his command (he knew not why), and ordered to report at Washington. To his surprise, he found himself PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN. placed in command of all the cavalry on the Potomac, in place of General Pleasanton, who was ordered into Missouri, where brave service was needed. Sheridan had now a large field, suited to his genius. Organizing his corps into three divisions, each commanded by able generals, he soon reported himself ready for duty. 'On the fourth of March, the Rapidan -was crossed by the entire Array of the Potomac. The march began toward the tangled, swampy wilderness, near Spottsylvania, where the forces of General Lee were waiting for battle. The plan of General Grant was not to hurl his battalions on the enemy's intrenchments, but to manoeuvre sufficiently to keep him in check, and then move in between him and the Confed erate capital. General Sheridan was protecting the flanks of the great arniy, and reconnoitring the position and movements of the enemy. On the fifth, as the splendid columns were about to turn the lines of the enemy. General Meade received a despatch from Sheridan. Breaking the seal, and reading it, he said: "They say that Lee intends to fight us here." "Very well," replied the imperturbable Grant. The plan of battle was soon matured. Then followed the terrific scenes of blood in the Wilderness. For three days, the carnage was frightful. It devolved upon Sheridan's cavalry to protect the army trains, and the ambulances containing the sick and wounded. On the ninth of March, the enemy began to fall deliberately back, still in a challenging attitude. Then commenced the chase for Spottsylvania Court House, both armies anxious to secure the position. Grant did not gain it ; but he reported that all was prosperous, saying: "I propose to fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer." To clear up "this line," General Sheridan was ordered, on the ninth, to select his best mounted troops, and start out on an expedition to the rear of Lee's army, to cut off his communica tions and supplies. He was given full discretion as to his plans. He ordered three days' rations to be given to his men, leaving behind everything that was not actually needed upon a great march. In a somewhat circuitous route, he appeared at the fords of the North Anna river, and at Beaver Dam. There he came upon a provost-guard of the enemy, having charge of more than three hundred union prisoners, who had been cap tured -the day before, at Spottsylvania. The union prisoners were released, and their guard captured. Thence, pushing on NATIONAL PORTRAITS. toward Richmond, a detachment destroyed the rail-road track and Confederate property at Ashland. On the eleventh, Sheri dan's command reached a point within six miles of Richmond, where they encountered the Confederate cavaliy, under General J. E. B. Stuart. A severe battle was fought ; Stuart was killed, several guns were captured, and the Federal forces gained the day. Before daybreak, the next morning, a detachment moved forward to reconnoitre, and penetrated the second line of defences around Richmond, approaching within two miles of that city. After capturing a Confederate courier, they with drew. Early the next morning, Sheridan's advance appeared at Meadow Bridge, where the enemy had destroyed the bridge, and constructed defences which commanded the rail-road bridge, over which the Union troops might attempt to cross. It was a way of great peril ; but, nothing daunted, Sheridan's gallant soldiers dashed across, and rushing through about half a mile of marshy ground, charged upon the enemy, and carried the works, after a most determined resistance. In the meantime, another force of the enemy had come up in his rear, and almost surrounded Sheridan's wearied army. To retreat would be fatal; the railroad-bridge could not be gained. To go forward would lead them upon a force greatly outnumbering the Union troops. To cross the river Chicka hominy, the Meadow Bridge must be reconstructed and crossed under the concentrated fire of the enemy. Here was a position to task the finest energies of generalship. Sheridan's decision was quickly made. The bridge must be rebuilt. It was done amid the constant fire of the Confederates, who were bravely kept at bay. Tremendous work was done by the Union artillery; charges were repelled by fierce counter -charges. Once or twice, the men were slowly pressed back ; buf the calm, self-possessed Sheridan encouraged them by his presence, and they regained their position. At length the bridge was completed. The ammunition train must pass over it. If the firing continued, it was scarcely possible to avoid the horrors of an explosion, and the risk of a capture of his forces. The peril only added to the resources of the cool commander. He put himself at the head of some picked men, and when the ammunition train was readyto be moved, he pointed his follow ers to the enemy, and said : " Boys, do you see those fellows, yonder ? They are green recruits, just from Richmond. There's PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN. not a veteran among them. You have fought them well, to-day ; but we have got to whip them. We can do it, and we will." A rousing cheer went up from the men, who were proud of their leader ; and in clear, ringing tones, he gave the order : " Forward ! Charge ! " Onward they dashed ; the foe went flying before them to the intrenchments. Then the artillery opened upon the Confederates, increasing their terror. Under cover of this brilliant charge, the train crossed the bridge in safety. The Union forces marched forward, with a heavy rain upon them, driving the enemy to Mechanicsville, and thence to Cold Harbor, taking many prisoners, and encamping near Gaines' Mills. Two days after, he brought his command to General Butler's head-quarters, without molestation, and opened communication with Washington. It was said, not long after: " Other expeditions may have resulted in a larger destruction^ of property, the capture of more prisoners, or the traversing of a larger region of territory ; but none, during the war, has carried greater terror into the hearts of the enemy, or more gallantly extricated itself from a position of extraordinary difficulty." General Sheridan, made his head-quarters, for a few days, at White House, on the Pamunky river ; but most of the time he was at the head of his troops, aiding the main army, on its way to the Chickahominy. He was frequently in conflict with the Confederate cavalry, under Fitzhugh Lee. Various engage ments at different points occurred, after which, he guarded the flank of General Grant's army, in its movement across the James river. While the main army was pushing on to Peters burg, General Sheridan set out, on the eighth of June, for a second cavalry expedition into the heart of Virginia. The object was to cut off the northward and westward lines of the enemy, and prevent him from receiving supplies or troops over the rail-roads. The points aimed at were Gordonsville and Charlottesville. Had his movements been properly sustained, he would have realized his hopes. Yet he did a noble work. A third invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania was planned, and already on foot, by the Confederates, marching through the valley of the Shenandoah. The national capital was more seriously threatened than ever before. Baltimore was endan gered. Chambersburg was desolated. The North was filled with alarm. The design was to draw General Grant and all NATIONAL PORTRAITS. his forces from Petersburg and Richmond. But " Grant was a very ijbstinate man." He knew, too, of an unwearied, per sistent trooper, whose soldiers could be trusted for the routing of the invaders. The Military Division of the Shenandoah was organized. The command of it was given to General Sheridan, although he was the youngest of all the major-generals ; for "he had already exhibited a skill and tact in the handling of troops, a coiribination of caution and audacity, a celerity of movement, and a fertility of resource, which indicated him as the man for the place." General Gi'ant knew his man, and the result proved that he was not mistaken. General Sheridan was soon at Harper's Ferry, making that his head-quarters. Already had the Confederate General Early gathered large plunder, fallen back, and prepared to forward it to Richmond. He probably intended to return into the rich valleys of the loyalists. Sheridan united his troops at the entrance of the valley, and began to press Early from the important positions which he held at such places as Martinsburg and Williamsport. He made feints of an advance, in order to discover the strength of his enemy. Early, priding himself on his acuteness, imagined that he was luring on the young pur suer, and that he would soon get him where he could finish him. Both generals were wary. Sheridan secured Winchester on the twelfth of August. Finding that there was some pros pect of the enemy moving southward, to join General Lee, he arrested his progress, and drew back to Charlestown, in order to attract Early nearer to the Potomac. Early thought. that Sheridan was afraid, and that by good management he might fiank him, re-enter Maryland, and reap another harvest of plunder. He therefore moved to Berryville. But his opponent was ready for meeting him. After some fighting and marching, he crowded Early west of Opequan creek, and got between him and Richmond. A severe battle began, on September 19, when the Confederates were " sent whirling through Winchester," as Sheridan expressed it. They lost three of their ablest generals, one of whom was Fitzhugh Lee, their cavalry leader, and about 12,000 men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners. With his usual rapidity, Sheridan led on his army, and encountered the enemy, strongly fortified, on Fisher's Hill. By dividing his forces, and making an attack in front and in the rear, he drove him from his intrenchments. Confused, disorganized, losing the muni- PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN, tions of war, and greatly scattered ; many of the enemy fled to the mountains, and determined to abandon the conflict, A terrible work of devastation was begun, to avenge the ravages of the enemy in the northern valleys, and to make the Shenan doah unflt for being any longer the avenue to invasion. General Early again rallied his forces, and intrenched them on Fisher's Hill, at a time when Sheridan was absent in Washington, A fierce battle ensued. The tidings reached Sheridan that his noble army was yielding to the foe. One man — one moment of his presence, might turn the tide of war. He hastened to Winchester, and mounted his horse for a ride that has been thrillingly de scribed by the distinguished poet, Thomas Buchanan Read : Up from the South, at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore. Like a herald in haste to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar. Telling the battle was on once more. And Sheeidan twenty miles away, And -wider still those billows of war Thundered along the horizon's bar ; And louder yet into AVinchester rolled The roar of that r^d sea uncontrolled, Making the blood of the listener cold As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray. And Sheeidan twenty miles away. But there is a road from Winchester town, A good broad highway, leading down ; And there, through the flush of the morning light, A steed, as black as the steeds of night, Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight — As if he knew the terrible need. He stretched away with his utmost speed ; Hill rose and fell — but his heart -was gay, With Sheeidan fifteen miles away. Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering south, The dust, like the smoke from the cannon's mouth ; Or the trail of a comet, s-weeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster ; The heart of the steed and the heart of the master. Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, Impatient to be where the battle-field calls; Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheeidan only ten miles away. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Under his sparring feet, the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flo-wed, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire. Swept on, with his wild eyes full of fire. But, lo ! he is nearing his heart's desire — : He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray With Sheeidan only five miles away. The first that the General saw, -were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops ; What was done — what to do — a glance told him both; Then, striking his spurs -with a terrible oath, He dashed down the line 'mid a storm of huzzas, And the -wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause. With foam and -with dust, the black charger was gray ; By the flash of his eye, and his red nostrils' play, He seemed to the whole great army to say : " I have brought you Sheeidan all the -way From Winchester, down to save the day!" Hurrah ! hurrah for Sheeidan ! Hurrah ! hurrah for horse and man I And -when their statues are placed on high, Under the dome of the Union sky — The American soldiers' temple of Fame — There, with the glorious General's name, Be it said, in letters both bold and bright: "Here is the steed that saved the day By carrying Sheeidan into the fight From Winchester — twenty miles away!" The losses on each side were hea-vy. The victory over the Confederates was so decisive, that Early's army never recovered from this stunning blow. It was said that " the only reinforce ment which the Army of the Shenandoah received, or needed to recover its lost field of battle, camps, intrenchments, and cannon, was one man — Sheridan," General Sheridan had been promoted to a Brigadier-General of the regular army, in place of the lamented McPherson, He was now made a Major-General in the regular army, in place of George B, McClellan, who had resigned. About the first of March, 1865, Sheridan moved his splendid cavalry through the country, routing Early, taking over 1,200 prisoners, several staff-officers, much material of war, and some PHILIP HENRY SHERIDAN, of Early's baggage. The General himself barely escaped. The James River Canal, and two railroads were destroyed, thua greatly injuring the Confederate cause. Sheridan seems to have been almost everywhere in the vicinity of Richmond, during the next few days. On Saturday, April 1st, he was at Five Forks, nearly west from Richmond, fighting a severe battle, while the main Army of the Potomac was attacking the forces of Lee. His masterly movements, with the simultaneous onset along the whol e lines on Sunday, compelled the enemy to speedily evacuate Petersburg and Richmond. The whole country shouted in exultation ; but the work was not all yet done. It was feared that the most terrific battle of modern times was still to be fought, - Lee moved in haste, but dared not cross the Appomattox river; he pressed on to the neighborhood of Amelia Court House, and there was SheSidan, whose cavalry seemed to have an almost ubiquitous power. We relate, in Sheridan's own words, what occurred on the sixth, as he pursued the Confederate forces : " It w^as apparent, from the absence of artillery fire, and the manner in which they gave way when pressed, that the force of the enemy opposed to us was a heavy rear-guard. The enemy was driven until our lines reached Sailor's creek; and from the north, I could see our cavalry on the high ground above the creek and south of it, and the long line of smoke from the burning wagons. A cavalryman, who in a charge cleared the enemy's works and came through their lines, reported to me what was in their front. I regret that I have forgotten the name of this gallant young soldier." He then ordered an attack to be made on both the right and left wings,' and he says: "The cavalry in rear of the enemy attacked simultaneously; and the enemy, after a gallant resistance, was completely surrounded, and nearly all threw down their arms and surrendered. General Ewell, commanding the enemy's forces, and a number of other general officers, fell into our hands, and a very large number of prisoners." It was during some of these anxious and eventful hours, that Sheridan sent word to Lieutenant-General Grant, whose forces had been crowding hard upon the enemy: " I wish you were here yourself; if things are pressed, I think Lee will surrender." A nobler compliment was never paid to a General-in-chief. And a less jealous man than Grant did not breathe, as he sent back the order: "Press things." Sheridan was already striking NATIONAL PORTRAITS. right and left. He knew that Grant and Lee were in corre spondence in regard to a cessation of the war. He heard of a white flag on the ninth, and before long was talking face to face with the Confederate General Gordon, at' Appomattox Court House, about a suspension of hostilities. " I notifled him that I desired to prevent the unnecessary effusion of blood, but as there was nothing deflnitely settled in the correspondence^ and as an attack had been made. on my lines with the view to escape, under the impression that our force was only cavalry, I must ¦ have some assurance of an intended surrender." He was assured "that there was no doubt of the surrender of General Lee's army and hostilities ceased until the arrival of Lieutenant-General Grant." Thus was the Confederate chief tain brought fairly at bay by the Hero of the Shenandoah.: On the ninth of April, 1865, the surrender was accomplished. The vast plans of General Grant had been successful, and would soon be crowned with complete victory. On the evening of the twentieth. Generals Grant and Sheridan were in Washuigton talking — not only of the murdered President, but of the enemy's forces yet in the southwest. They must surrender. Sheridan left the next day, to restore order and law in Texas. It has been said: "Grant, Sherman, and Thomas are great in strategy, and calm in execution. Sheridan has never failed in his plans, but has won his. victories chiefly through his sublime heroism — on fire with martial daring and glory .... He heartily despises a council of war, and never forms part of one if he can avoid it. He executes, not originates plans ; or, as Rosecranz once expressed it: 'He fights — he fights.' His care forthe reputation of his subordinates, his freedom from all petty jealousy, his honesty of purpose, and the nobleness of his ambition to serve the country and not himself, his geniality and 'general good-humor, and the brevity of his black storms of anger, make him, liike Grant, not only a well-beloved leader, but one that the country can safely trust to guard its honor and preserve its existence." SMBfiAVBi] sr r.B.WELCf/./^mLi/fJiaM^ iMei/Bj/BEarrpE byji u.^/'.-re. \cJ]p(aER3ag#\C&{lA\[R]Y TT^ j" [L, ( / 'rui/'-'i ^-y Ar.'Jjfin^J-C ZACHARY TAYLOR, While it is true that our republican principles forbid personal, dis tinctions on account of ancestral rank, it is equally certain, that when men on other accounts rise to eminence, there is a prevalent disposition to add, if it can be done, the honors of their ancestors to their own. Nor ought such a feeling to be censured ; for it has its origin, partly at least, in the respect due to our fathers. It cannot be otherwise than honorable to President Taylor, that his ancestors left England two centuries ago for Virginia. They were among the most respect able of the men of that day, and gradually became connected with the most distinguished families of the State, such as those of Jefferson, Marshall, Lee, Monroe, Madison, and others of like character ; and assuredly Zachary Taylor has added not a little to the honor of his connexions. Richard Taylor, the father of our hero, was himself a Virginian, born in 1744, and received a plain education. He was remarkable for a daring and adventurous spirit, and resolved when but a school boy to distinguish himself for courage as soon as his strength should allow. He joined the army, in due time, was soon raised to the rank of Colonel, and fought by the side of Washington at the battle of Trenton. But his disposition led him to feats of another character. Daniel Boone had already explored the wilds of the west, and Colonel Taylor, not long after, set out and reached "the dark and bloody ground" on which, at that time, the dwelling of a civilized man had not been reared. He penetrated on foot, and without a companion, as far as New Orleans, and then returned with a determination ultimately to make his horae in the west. At thirty-five, he married Miss Sarah Strother, a young lady of twenty. Five sons and three daughters were the fruits of this union ; of these Zachary was the third son, and was born in Orange county, Virginia, November 24, 1784. Thus was Virginia honored by giving birth to another of the emi nent men, of which she has furnished so many to the Union. But he had not breathed her soft and balmy air very long, when his father NATIONAL PORTRAITS. emigrated with tos whole family to Kentucky, in pursuance of his long cherished intention. He had been preceded by his brother Hancock, a brave and intelligent man, who fell a sacrifice in surveying parts of the Ohio valley, and who just previous to his death had selected for a farm on which to locate, the site of the present city of Louisville. Only ten years before the emigration of Richard Taylor, the first habitation of a white man had been erected in the vast region between the western boundary of Virginia and the Mississippi. Within this period a few settlements had been made, insuflicient, however, from their isolated positioils, to secure to the emigrant adequate protection from the Indians, much less to afford him the most usual comforts of civilized life. " Under the guidance of such men," as Fry remarks in his Life of Taylor, " and under such circumstances, for the development of his bold spirit and active intellect, Zachary Taylor passed his infant years. The hardships and dangers of border life were to him as familiar as ease and security to the child of metropolitan luxury." The residence of his father was in Jefferson county, about five miles from Louisville, and ten miles from the Ohio river. Here he acquired a large estate, and was distinguished for his intelligence and patriot ism. When Louisville rose into importance, and was made a port of entry, Richard Taylor received from Washington, his personal friend, a commission as collector ofthe customs. It will be readily believed that the father of Zachary Taylor would give his children the best education which the neighborhood would afford; this, however, was comparatively slender. In acts of daring prowess the boy needed no instruction. While his father was from home engaged in contest with the Indians, Zachary would be casting bullets for a coming engagement. He was thus familiar from his infancy with the gleam of the tomahawk, and the yell of the savage. An earnest military passion, natural to him, was cherished by the romance of frontier life, and inflamed by household legends of the Revolution. Thoughtfulness, sound judgment, shrewdness, and stability, with a determination which nothing could move, made up his character. In 1794, it is well known, that the expedition of General Wayne against the western Indians was successful, and in the following year, a peace was concluded; emigration rapidly increased, and civilized labor began to receive its due reward; young Taylor engaged in agriculture with his father, and thus laid the foundation of robust health, hardy habits, and perseverihg industry, which afterwards dis- ZACHARY TAYLOR. tinguished his military life for more than thirty years. When Aaron Burr's movements in the west began to excite suspicion, the patriotic young men of Kentucky formed volunteer companies, to oppose his designs by arms, if occasion should demand it. Zachary Taylor, and one or more of his brothers, were enrolled in a troop raised for this purpose. On the death of his brother. Lieutenant Taylor, Zachary, by the influence of his father, James Madison, and his uncle. Major Edmund Taylor, obtained the vacancy, and received a commission from President Jefferson, May 3, 1S08, as first Lieutenant in the seventh regiment of United States Infantry. He was then twenty-four years of age, and in possession of a competent fortune, but he chose to relinquish the quiet life of a farmer, to engage in the perilous duties of a soldier. Soon after this, having to report himself to General Wilkinson, then at New Orleans, he was seized by yellow fever, and his life, was some time in danger, so that he was compelled to return home in order to recruit his health. Here he diligently studied the duties of his profession, and circumstances soon proved that he had made no small proficiency. The aggressions of England, at this time, had long been preparing the public mind of the United States for war. The emissaries of Great Britain had excited the Indian tribes north of the Ohio, to new hos tilities towards the American settlers on the frontiers, who were kept in constant apprehensions of an attack. Under such circumstances, our government deemed it advisable to make the first demonstration, and General Harrison, then Governor of the North-west Territory, was ordered to march a competent force into the Indian country ; for it was not to be endured, that British promises and British gold should bribe the savages to prepare for the extermination of all the whites on the frontiers. To this expedition Lieutenant Taylor was attached, and though he had been married but about a year to Miss Margaret Smith, of one of the first families of Maryland, he willingly left his young wife and infant, to engage in his country's service in the camp. At the bloody battle of Tippecanoe, May 7, 1811, his gallant services won the highest esteem of his commander, and soon after, President Madison gave hira a captain's commission. He was placed in command of Fort Harrison. The defences of this post were in a miserable con dition, and its garrison consisted of only fifty men, of whom thirty were disabled by sickness. With this little band of soldiers, the young com- m-ander immediately set.about repairing the fortifications, which having done, he was called from a bed of sickness into action, and here he ac complished mighty feats of valor against the Indiaps, though headed by 3 ' '^3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. their great chief Tecumseh. His presence of mind and noble courage, greatly encouraged his men, and the account of the conflict which he sent to General Harrison, indicated alike his modesty, his strong common sense, and the severe style of his composition. The failure of their enterprise against Fort Harrison, greatly disheartened the Indians, and they abandoned for the time, any further attempts against it. The conduct of Captain Taylor, gave high satisfaction at head quarters, so that General Hopkins, in a letter to the Governor of Kentucky, said, "The firm and almost unparalleled defence of Fort Harrison, by Captain Zachary Taylor, has raised for him a fabric of character not to be eff'aced by eulogy;" and the President, in accord ance with the, feelings of the whole country, conferred upon him, the rank of Major by brevet — which became before his death the latest instance in the service of this species of promotion. From this time to the close of the war with Great Britain, Major Taylor was engaged in the same vicinity, accomplishing the purposes of the government with unremitting vigilance. At length the Indians were reduced to terms of peace, and the white settlers were secured from their incursions. From this period of 1812 till 1832, the Major was engaged in several important active duties, but our limits will not allow any details respecting them. In 1816, he was ordered to Green Bay, and remained in command of that post two years. Having passed a yea with his family, he joined Colonel Russell at New Orleans, where one of his labors was the opening of a military road, and another the erection of Fort Jessup. In 1S24, he was engaged in the recruiting service at Louisville, and in the latter part of that year, was ordered to Washington, and appointed one of the Board of Commissioners for erecting Jefferson Barracks. In 1826, he was one of a Board of OflScers of the army and militia to consider a system for the organiza tion of the militia of the United States. His duties were subsequently resumed on the north-western frontier, a field on which he afterwards again met an Indian enemy, and sustained the reputation won in his first contest with him. Five years of peace, however, preceded this occasion, years not idly spent, for when unemployed in his duties as a strict disciplinarian, he was studiously engaged in perfecting himself in his profession. A writer in the Literary World says, "I have often seen him putting his men through the battalion drill on the northern banks of the Wisconson, in the depth of February. This would seem only characteristic of the man who has since equally proved himself ' Rough Jind Ready,' under the searching sun of the tropics. But, ZACHARY TAYLOR. looking hack through long years to many a pleasant hour spent in the well-selected library of the post which Colonel Taylor then com manded, we recur now with singular interest to the agreeable conversa tions held in the room which was the Colonel's favorite resort, amid the intervals of duty." In 1819, Zachary Taylor had received the commission of Lieu tenant-Colonel, and in 1832, President Jackson appointed him Colonel, and in this capacity, his skill and bravery were distinguished in the Black Hawk war, which, however, unjustly it may have originated, it was assuredly important to terminate by the most vigorous measures. This was accomplished by Black Hawk being surrendered by some of his faithless allies. With his capture, the war ended. The writer in the Literary World, already quoted, relates an anecdote, which, as it is strikingly illustrative of Colonel Taylor's character, we here give : " Some time after Stillman's defeat by Black Hawk's band, Taylor, marching -with a large body of volunteers, and a handful of regulars, in pursuit of the hostile Indian force, found himself approaching Rock river, then asserted by many to be the true north-western boundary of Illinois. The volunteers, as Taylor was informed, would refuse to cross the stream; they were militia, they said, called out for the defence of the State, and it was unconstitutional to order them to march beyond its frontier into the Indian country. Taylor thereupon halted his command, and encamped within the acknowledged bounda ries of Illinois. He would not, as the relator of the story said, budge an inch further without orders. He had already driven Black Hawk out of the State, but the question of crossing Rock river seemed hugely to trouble his ideas of integrity, to the constitution on one side, and military expediency on the other. During the night, however, orders came, either from General Scott or General Anderson, for him to fol low up Black Hawk to the last. The quietness of the regular Colonel, meanwhile, had rather encouraged the mutinous militia to bring their proceedings to a head. A sort of town meeting was called upon the prairie, and Taylor invited to attend. After listening some time very quietly to the proceedings, it became ' Rough and Ready's' turn to address the chair. ' He had heard,' he said, ' with much pleasure, the views which several speakers had expressed of the independence and dignity of each private American citizen. He felt that all gentlemen here present, were his equals, — ^in reality, he was persuaded that many of them would in a few years be his superiors, and perhaps, in the capacity of members of congress, arbiters of the fortune and reputation of humble servants of the republic like himself. He expected then NATIONAL PORTRAITS. to obey them as interpreters of the will of the people ; and the best proof he could give that he would obey them, was now to observe the orders of those whom the people had already put in the places of autho rity, to which many gentlemen around him justly aspired. In plain English, gentlemen and fellow citizens, the word has been passed on to me from Washington, to follow Black Hawk, and to take you with me as soldiers. I mean to do both. There are the flat boats dravm up on the shore, and here are Uncle Sam's men drawn up behind you on the prairie!' " It is unnecessary to state the effect of this appeal. Twenty-five years had Colonel Taylor been now engaged in the toils of war, with very rare intervals of the tranquillity of home, but when he might have asked for a respite of labor, he was ordered to take command of Fort Crawford, which had been erected under his superintendence, and soon after, in 1836, he was directed to proceed to Florida, to -assist in reducing the Seminole Indians to submission. The origin of this war is well known. In 1832, a treaty had been made with this tribe for their removal, and three years was allowed for its fulfillment. This, however, when the time had elapsed, they refused to do, the results of which were truly sad. All friendly con ferences with the chiefs having failed, it was determined, in the g,utumn of 1837, to take more active measures against them. Un limited power was given to Colonel Taylor, to capture or destroy them wherever they might be found. Accordingly on December 20, he left Fort Gardiner with about eleven hundred men, and through dense thickets of palmetto and cypress, and the luxuriant herbage of a wet soil, they made their way towards the everglades, where the foe was concealed. On the 25th of December, with five hundred men, and under the clear raiige of seven hundred Indian rifles, he gained the victory of Okee-cho-bee. The great satisfaction given ahke to the country and the government by Colonel Taylor, led to his promotion to the rank of Brigadier-General, by brevet. Soon after this advancement in rank. General Taylor was honored with the supreme command of the troops of Florida, General Jessup having been recalled at his own re quest. Two years longer did General Taylor toil amid the morasses and fevers of that region, frequently skirmishing with the Indians, but unable to "conquer a peace." At his own request, he was relieved from the command, and succeeded by General Armistead, in April, 1840. Relieved as General Taylor now was from arduous duty in Florida, it must not be supposed that no further labors were expected from him On the other ha-nd, while hitherto his moveinents had influenced the ZACHARY TAYLOR. fate of districts, now they began to affect the fortunes of empires. His distinguished talents were too well known and appreciated, to allow him to remain idle. He was therefore, immediately appointed to the command of the first department of the United States army in the south-west. This department included the four States at the extreme south-western part of the Union, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Louisiana. His head-quarters were at Fort Jessup, in the latter State. In the summer of 1841, being ordered to relieve General Arbuckle, at Fort Gibson, the compliment of a public dinner, while on his way there, was tendered him by his fellow citizens of Little Rock, Arkansas, " as an expression of their esteem for his personal worth and meritorious public services." To the letter of invitation. General Taylor made answer, that under ordinary circumstances, it would have afforded him great pleasure to accept the invitation ; but having been already detained on his journey to the fi-ontier, an unusual length of time, he did not feel authorized to make on his own account, any delay whatever. He was, therefore, compelled to decline the proffered hospitality. In concluding his reply, he gave assurances of his best exertions to secure the object of his command on the frontier. Time proved to what extent he redeemed the pledge. A little previously to his removal to Arkansas, General Taylor re moved his family to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where he had purchased an estate, but though this added to their comforts,, they from this period, had for a long season to regret his absence, nor does it appear to have added to their wealth. . This was no peculiarity in the case of General Taylor, for what servant of our republic, in the honest dis charge of his duty, ever became rich? We feel here a difficulty, arising from the necessarily limited space to which the biographical sketches of the National Portrait Gal lery are confined. We have now to do -with the soldier of the day, the great Captain of the American army, but it is impossible even to sketch the mighty deeds which General Taylor now performed. We are, however, relieved by the thought, that already has the historian placed these deeds on record with all needful details, and that they are secured in the archives of our country's history. Our object is rather to glance at personal history, and to illustrate individual character. A paragraph or two is all we can give as introductory to larger his-, tories. We may add here, that the Mexican war in its inceptive, had no friend in General Taylor ; he had, however, been selected to take the field in the outset, before war had been declared, or any act of hostility committed on either side, and he felt it to be his duty to NATIONAL PORTRAITS. devote himself to the one object of reducing the enemy to terms of peace. In May, 1845, on the annexation of Texas, General Taylor was ordered to place his troops in such a positibn as to defend that State against a threatened Mexican invasion. In August of that year, he concentrated his troops at Corpus Christi, where he remained till March 11, 1846, when he broke up his encampment, and moved the army of occupation westward ; this was composed of only about four thousand regulars. On the 20th of March, he reached and pass ed without resistance, the Arroya Colorado, and arrived at the Rio Grande, to which point he had been ordered by the authorities at Washington, after considerable suffering, on the 29th of that month. Here he took every means to assure the Mexicans, that his purpose was not war, nor violence in any shape, but solely the occupation of the Texian territory to the Rio Grande, until the boundary should be definitely settled by the two republics. Encamping opposite Metamoras, General Taylor prepared for Mexican aggression by erecting fortifications and planting batteries. Provisions became short, the American army possessed but little ammunition, and were in many other ways discouraged, but the battle of Palo Alto was commenced, and gloriously was it won, on May 8, 1846. On the folio-wing day, the two opposing armies again met at Resaca de la Palma, within three miles of Fort Brown : the battle com menced with great fury ; the artillery on both sides did terrible execu tion, and extraordinary skUl was displayed by the opposing Generals : but again conquest declared for the United States army. These victories filled our country with exultation. Government acknow ledged the distinguished services of General Taylor, by making him Major-General by brevet; Congress passed resolutions of high ap proval ; Louisiana presented him with a sword, and the press every where teemed with his praise. As soon as means could be procured. General Taylor crossed the Rio Grande, took Metamoras without opposition, and made Colonel Twiggs its Governor. The army soon received large volunteer rein forcements, and the American General proceeded to Camargo, thence, through Seralos to Monterey, where he arrived the 19th of September. They found the town in a complete state of defence ; the walls and parapets were lined with cannons, and the houses barricaded, and planted with artillery; the Mexicans had nearly ten thousand soldiers, and plenty of ammunition ; but all were useless against the skill and power of our army. The conflict was terrific, but at length the city ZACHARY TAYLOR. capitulated. The terms accorded by the conqueror were liberal, and dictated by a regard to the interests of peace ; they crowned a gallant conquest of arms, with a more sublime victory of magnanimity. To describe the last crowning victory effected by General Taylor, is, within our limits, impossible. Its scene was Buena Vista, and its time February 22, 1847. Santa Anna commanded the Mexican army of 20,000 men, while Taylor had but 4,500. Ten hours did the con flict last, and fearful was the crisis. The character of the General was never more strikingly shown. When Santa Anna summoned* him to surrender, he, with Spartan brevity, " declined acceding to the re quest," and -when the demand was repeated, the answer was, "General Taylor never surrenders." Nor were his addresses to his army, less sententious and effective. "A little more grape, Captain Bragg," and " 'Tis impossible to whip us when we all pull together," are sounds which still live in the ears of those who heard them, and will never be forgotten. History tells not of a battle more bravely contested, or more nobly won; and well did the greatest warrior of the age, on learning it, exclaim. General Taylor's a general indeed!" Thus ended the military life of Zachary Taylor, who returned home carry ing with him not only the adoration of his soldiers, but the respect of the people he had vanquished. We need not say he was received in the United States with loud and universal enthusiasm. As one illustration, among many which might be given, we select an anecdote showing his republican habits, given by a committee ap pointed by the citizens of New Orleans, to present the General with a sword : — "We presented ourselves at the opening of one of the tents, before which was standing a dragoon's horse, much used by hard service. Upon a camp-stool at our left sat General , in busy conversa tion with a hearty looking old gentleman, sitting on a box, cushioned -with an Arkansas blanket, dressed in Attakapas pantaloons, and a linen roundabout, and remarkable for a bright flashing -eye, a high forehead, a farmer look, and 'rough and ready' appearance. It is hardly necessary for us to say, that this personage was General Taylor, the commanding hero of two of the most remarkable battles on record, and the man who, by his firmness and decision of character, has shed lustre upon the American arms. " There was no pomp about his tent ; a couple of rough blue chests served for his table, upon which were strewn, in masterly confasion, a variety of official, documents. A quiet-looking, citizen-dressed per sonage, made his appearance upon hearing the significant call of 'Ben,' NATIONAL PORTRAITS. bearing on a tin salver, a couple of black bottles and shining tumblers, arranged around an earthen pitcher of Rio Grande water. These refreshments were deposited upon a stool, and we ' helped ourselves' by invitation. We bore to the General, a complimentary gift, from some of his fellow citizens of New Orleans, which he declined receiving for the present ; giving, at the same time, a short but ' hard sense' lecture on the impropriety of naming children and places after men, before they were dead, or of his receiving a present for his services 'before the campaign, so far as he was concerned, was finished.' "With the highest possible admiration of the republican simplicity of the manners and character of General Taylor, we bade him good day, with a higher appreciation of our native land, for possessing such a man as a Citizen, and of its institutions, for moulding such a cha racter." The people of the United States have' in their gift, the office of the Presidency, an honor exceeding that of the greatest throne in the world. Whether it be desirable, to place a soldier in the chair, as is so frequently done, is no question to be discussed in this place ; assuredly in the case of General Taylor, no small enthusiasm accom panied his selection for the honor by the Whig convention in Phila delphia, June 1, 1848, and scarcely less when the people confirmed the nomination on November 7, following. March 5, 1849, he was introduced to the office, and his inaugural address was considered to be redolent with old-fashioned patriotism, and breathed the very spirit of devotedness to his country. His subsequent administration, though beset by sectional strifes of fearful violeijce, was conducted with wisdom, firmness, and moderation, on great national principles, and for great national ends. Owing to his profound deference to the coordinate branches of government, and his inability to either dictate "or assume, his policy was not, during the short period of his administration, fully proclaimed to congress, and pressed upon its adoption. History is an illustration of the fact that death loves a shining mark. At the period when the life of a ruler appears most desirable, he is often suddenly removed. One year and five months only, had General Taylor become settled in the Presidential chair, and proved his declaration that he was not the President of a party ; while occupied in business which demanded all his talents and energies, endeavoring to unite all parties in the prompt and untramelled admission of Cali fornia into the Union, only five days after he had done homage to Washington, on the birth day of our liberties, and just as he had per formed his last official act, in adding a new guaranty to the peace of 10 ZACHARY TAYLOR. the world, by signing the convention recently concluded between our country and Great Britain, respecting Central America, — he was cut off in the sixty-sixth year of his age. His illness was only of a few hours' duration, and his love of country was shown to the last hour. Speaking of his own conduct in reference to her interests, his dying declaration was, "I am prepared — I have endeavored to do my duty." General Taylor left behind him a widow, who has since deceased, one son, and two daughters; one married to Dr. Wood, surgeon ofthe United States army, and the other to Colonel W. W. S. Bhss, of the army. Another daughter, who died some years since, was married to Cplonel Jefferson Davis, Senator from Mississippi. The administration of President Taylor is so recent, and therefore so fresh in the minds of our readers, that they may probably consider it improper for the historian at present to describe it. Certainly, how ever, we may say that his conduct was distinguished by remarkable independence and freedom from party spirit ; he was eminently con cerned to maintain the union and prosperity of the United States ; and as far as consistent with national honor and dignity, desirous of culti vating peace and friendly relations with all foreign powers. In person. General Taylor was about five feet eight inches in height, and like most of our revolutionary generals, was inclined to corpulency. He appeared a much taller man on horseback than on foot, owing to the shortness of his lower extremities. His hair was gray, his brow ample, his eye vivid, and his features plain, but full of firmness and intelligence. Benevolence was a striking feature in his countenance, and in this respect was the true index of his heart. He was kind, forbearing, and humane. His manners were easy and hearty, his tastes, dress, and manners were simple, and his style of living ex tremely temperate. His speeches, and his official papers, hoth military and civil, were remarkable for the propriety of their feeling, and their chasteness of diction. All his personal attributes and antecedents made him preeminently the man of the people, and qualified him to sustain his country by uniting all classes. His good temper was re markable, so that all parties were at home in intercourse with him, even those who were by no means distinguished for courtesy. So that when on the day after his election to the presidency, a man coarsely shook hands with him, and told him that he did not vote for him, for he did not think him fit for the office, the General replied, smiling, "Yesterday I thought as you do, but as the people thought differently, I submit." His mind was of an original and sohd cast, admirably balanced and combining the comprehensiveness of reason with the penc il NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tration of instinct. Its controlling element was a strong sterlmg sense, that of itself rendered him a wise counsellor and a safe leader. His martial courage was only equalled by his Spartan simplicity, his unaf fected modesty, his ever-wakeful humanity, his inflexible integrity, his uncompromising truthfulness, his lofty magnanimity, his unbounded patriotism, and his unfaltering loyalty to duty. His private Ufe was unblemished, and the loveliness of his disposition made him the idol of his own household, and the favorite of all who knew him. Assuredly no man has ever died among us, whose loss occasioned more mtense feeling, or who was more honored in his burial. 12 ; :> y.v. ¦<. D a^u-;rrs j'.yi- s hy Souti w:iciL,3M.AM mupisi}! § e © 'ip^i? = WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT, D. C. L. If it be honorable to a man to have had ancesfors eminent for the use fulness they render to society, the subject of our memoir has this honor. His great grandfather was a man of high respectability, and was elected as the agent of the province of Massachusetts to the British Court, but declined the office, which was subsequently filled by Edward Quincy. His grandfather was Colonel William Prescott, who commanded the American forces stationed in the redoubt at the memora ble battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775, and with the undisciplined militia . of New England twice broke the ranks of the British grena diers, and drove them in confusion and dismay to their boats. His father, the Hon. William Prescott, LL. D., through a long life of eighty-two years, presented first at the bar, and afterwards in dignified retirement, an eminent example of talent, learning, and moral excel lence; enjoying while he lived the character of one of the noblest ornaments of his profession, and mourned over at his death, in 1844, as a vast loss to the community he so long adorned with his pre sence. William Hickling Prescott was born in Salem, Massachusetts, May 4, 1796. His early education was undertaken by Dr. Gardiner, a pupil of the distinguished English Grecian, Dr. Samuel Parr, and himself a very eminent classical scholar. Under this gentleman he made great progress in the ancient classics, and passed through a range of studies in the Latin and Greek authors far beyond the limits usually attained at that time in our public seminaries. When William had attained twelve years of age, his family removed to the city of Boston, where he afterward mostly resided. At fifteen, he entered Harvard College, at Cambridge, one year in advance ; here he gave comparatively little attention to the mathematics and the kindred sciences, but employed his leisure hours, especially in the latter portion of his college life, in the study of his favorite authors. It NATIONAL PORTRAITS. was then a matter of taste with him, but his subsequent engage ments have shown the wisdom of his conduct; as much of the beauty of his style has been the result of the happy union of his genius and learning. While at college, an accidental blow deprived him of the sight of one of his eyes, and the other became greatly weakened, partly by sympathy, and partly by the increased labor thrown upon it, so that he was threatened with entire darkness. However, he graduated with high honors in 1814, being then but eighteen. He had intended to devote himself to the bar, but was soon compelled to abandon his pro fession, and even to renounce all reading, for he became for a season entirely blind. In the autumn of 1815, he went to Europe, and spent two years in England, France, and Italy, seeking the aid ofthe great oculists in London and Paris. He may have been too young to derive a permanent profit from his travels, but he probably enjoyed the novel scenes which opened to him with a higher relish than he would have done at a later period, and thought ofthe ancients with an enthusiasm which a cooler criticism might have checked. He returned to Boston with greatly renovated health, but not to resume his studies^ for, alas, his eye was yet greatly susceptible of inflammation. Still he was not discouraged, but with the natural energy of his character, turned to the studies which yet remained within his reach. In the course of a few years, he married a lady of his own city, a grand-daughter of Captain Linzee, who commanded one of the British vessels at the battle of Bunker Hill ; thus presenting another beautiful illustration of the tendency of Christianity and civilization in ameliorating humanity; the grandchildren of some of the opposing parties in the revolution, were now united in the holy bon^s of marriage. Dr. Rufus Griswold describes two swords which he saw suspended over one of the book cases in Mr. Prescott's beautiful library, crossed with an Indian calu met, which were worn by the grandfathers at Bunker Hill, one in the people's service, the other in the King's. Cordially do we unite with the Doctor in saying, "Would that the two countries might for ever be united in as firm a bond of peace as that which binds these descendants of their two champions on that memorable day." This marriage has been productive of nothing but happiness, so that Mr. Prescott some years since, wrote' to a friend, that " contrary to the assertion of La Bruyere, who somewhere says that ' the most fortunate husband finds reason to regret his condition, at least once in every twenty-four hours,' I may truly say that I have found no such day in the quarter ofa century that Providence has spared us to each other." WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. Thus situated, Mr. Prescott resolved to become, in the best sense of the word, an historian. Unlike the majority of intellectual aspirants, he had at his command the means to procure the needful materials, however expensive, for illustrating any subject on which his choice might fix, and to obtain the services of a secretary every way qualified for his office. As he grew older, too, the inflammatory tendency of his system diminished, and his eye became less sensible tQ_the fatigue of study. He gradually recovered his sight, so that he became able to gratify his taste for hooks to a reasonable extent ; he was, how ever, we are informed, seldom able to use his eyes above an hour a day, but still he cheerfully wrote to a friend, " I am not, and never expect to be, in the category of the blind men." His earliest literary labors were devoted to a series of critical and miscellaneous essays, chiefly in the North American Review ; thirteen of which form a volume first published in 1845. They are remarkable for the sus tained ease and felicity of expression, the fine enthusiasm and natural brilliancy, which in a still more eminent degree distinguish his later productions. They show that he was always equal to his theme in research, hearty appreciation, and acute critical judgment. As early as 1819, Mr. Prescott cherished the idea of producing a historical work of a superior character. Ten years did he wisely give himself for preliminary preparations, and ten years more for the pre paration of a specific work. The subject he selected was the history of the " Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain," a noble sub ject for an American, as in their reign the existence of this continent was first revealed to Europe. The plan was a noble one, and nobly has it been carried out ; certainly the twenty years devoted to it was time well spent. The years embraced in it presented one of the few important periods in^the history of Europe, which seemed to invite the hand of a master. It was the period at which lived Isabella of Castile, the statesman Ximenes, the soldier Cordova, and the navigator Columbus; in which the empire of the Moors was subdued, the Inquisition was established, the Jews were driven from Spain, and a new world was discovered and colonized. Nothing had yet appeared worthy to cover the ground. From Mr. Alexander H. Everett, our minister at the Court of Spain, when Mr. Prescott selected the subject of his work he received much assistance in the transmission of important works from that country, which could not be obtained in the United States. " This History," says Mr. Tuckerman, " is a work which unites the fascination of romantic fiction with the grave interest of authentic events. Its author makes no pretension to analytical power, except NATIONAL PORTRAITS. m the arrangement of his materials ; he is content to describe, and his talents are more artistic than philosophical ; neither is any cherished theory or principle obvious ; his ambition is apparently limited to skil ful narration. Indefatigable in research, sagacious in the choice and comparison of authorities, serene in temper, graceful in style, and pleasing in sentiment, he possesses all the requisites for an agreeable writer; while his subjects have yielded so much of picturesque mate rial and romantic interest, as to atone for the lack of any more original or brilliant qualities in the author." When Mr. Prescott had written his History of Ferdinand and Isabella, he had resolved against its publication during his life-time, but the remark of his father, that " the man who writes a book which he is afraid to publish is a coward," led him to a different decision, and in 1838, at the age of forty -two, in the freshness, as well as in the maturity of his genius, he appeared before the world, both in Boston and in Lon don, as an author. The reception of his work was every where highly flattering, for all pronounced it a masterpiece, so that his fame became at once firmly established. The Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews emulated each other in its praise, and it was promptly translated into the Spanish, German, French, and Italian languages. It has passed through very many editions, and the voice of posterity has been antici pated by the unanimous judgment of the learned, who have admitted it into the circle of immortal works. The biographers of Mr. Prescott have pretty fully detailed the difficulties which he had to contend with in his literary labors, arising from his defective vision. Dr. Griswold tells us, that when his literary treasures reached him from Spain, he " was not able to read even the title pages ofthe volumes. He had strained the nerve of his eye by careless use of it, and it was several years before it recovered so far as to allow him to use it again. By the sight of his Spanish treasures lying unexplored before him, he was filled with despair. He determined to try whether he could make the ears do the work of the eyes. He taught his reader, unacquainted with any language but his own, to pronounce the Spanish, though not exactly in the accent of the Court of Madrid. He read at a slow and stumbling pace, while the historian listened with painful attention. Practice at length made the work easier for both, though the reader never understood a word of his author. In this way, they ploughed along patiently through seven Spanish quartos. He found at last he could go over about two- thirds as much in an hour as he could when read to in English. The experiment was made, and he became convinced of the practicabihty WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. of substituting the ear for the eye. He was overjoyed, for his library was no longer to consist of sealed volumes. " He now obtained the services of a secretary acquainted with the different ancient and modern languages. Still there were many im pediments to overcome. His eye, however, gradually improved, and he could use it by daylight, (never again in the evening,) a few hours ; though this was not till after some years, and then with repeated in tervals of weeks, and sometimes months of debility. Many a chapter, and some ofthe severest in Ferdinand and Isabella, were written almost wholly with the aid of the eyes of his secretary. His modus operandi was necessarily peculiar. He selected, first, all the authorities in the dif ferent languages that could bear on the topic to be discussed. He then listened to the reading of them, one after another, dictating very copious notes on each. When the survey was completed, a large pile of notes was amassed, which were read to him over and over again, until the whole had been embraced by his mind, when they were fused down into the consecutive contents of a chapter. When the subject was complex, and not pure narrative, requiring a great variety of reference, and sifting of contradictory authorities, the work must have been very difficult. But it strengthened his memory, kept his faculties wide awake, and taught him to generalize; for the little details slipped through the holes in the memory. • " His labor did not end with this process. He found it as difficult to write as to read, and procured in London a writing case for the blind. This he could use in the dark as well as in the light. The characters, indeed, might pass for hieroglyphics, but they were deciphered by his secretary, and transferred by him to a legible form in a fair copy. Yet I have heard him say his hair sometimes stood on end at the woful blunders and misconceptions of the original, which every now and then, escaping detection, found their way into the first proof of the printer." When a new author, in addition to a highly flattering reception of his work, is himself conscious of having rendered a benefit to society, he is seldom disposed entirely to lay aside his pen and to indulge in inglorious ease. Especially is a man urged onward when, like Mr. Prescott, he is by nature and principle of energetic habits. Never did Mr. Prescott seek to mingle with the crowd; he never sought the shouts of a multitude, nor even addressed one ; but he lived with the historically great, chiefly of the past. He had now tried his literary powers, and satisfied the public even more fully than himself, that he was capable of useful labor ; besides which his sight was now NATIONAL PORTRAITS. gradually improving, and he could work more easily at his books and documents than heretofore. In addition to all which, he had by this time accumulated some valuable manuscript materials, and pictorial works, which aided his imagination and increased his enthusiasm. He sat down, therefore, to his " Conquest of Mexico," which was pub lished in 1843, simultaneously in the United States and in London. It was written with remarkable freedom and spirit, the result both of conscious success, and of the excitement springing from the nature of his romantic and marvellous story ; so that the prompt honors it received, were even more brilliant than those awarded to his "Ferdi nand and Isabella." Before this, he had been admitted to membership in several of the distinguished academies of Europe, and he was how elected a member of the French Institute. This second historical work attained a higher sale than even the first ; the New York publishers sold nearly seven thousand copies of it in one year; in London it very quickly passed to a second edition ; it was reprinted in Paris, and translated there, as well as in Berlin, Rome, Madrid, and Mexico. The Mexican translator, Dr. Griswold tells us, a person of some con sideration in that country, advertised that he should accommodate the offensive opinions in religion and politics to the more received ideas of the Mexicans! But the version which appeared in Madrid being faithful, the Spanish Americans have perhaps had an opportunity to see the work in an unmutilated form. '' We are happy in the opportunity of giving from a critique on this work in the eighty-first volume of the " Edinburgh Review," a few sentences, which will equally apply to every work which our author has written. The Reviewer says : — "Mr. Prescott has a pure, sim ple and eloquent style — a keen relish for the picturesque~-a quick and discerning judgment of character — and a calm, generous, and enlight ened spirit of philanthropy. There is no exaggeration in asserting that his ' Conquest of Mexico' combines — some allowance, where' that is necessary, being made for the inferior extent and importance of its subject — most of the valuable qualities which distinguish the most popular historical writers in our own'language of the present day. It unites the chivalrous but truthful enthusiasm of Colonel Napier,, and the vivacity of the accomplished author of the ' Siege of Granada,' with the patient and ample research of Mr. Ty tier. "It would be easy to fill our pages with sparkling quotations, with sketches of scenery worthy of Scott, with battle-pieces rivaling those of Napier, with pictures of disaster and desolation scarcely less pathetic than those drawn by Thucydides. But Mr. Prescott has. WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. no doubt, too much taste not to accept it as a compliment, when we say that every reader of intelligence forgets the beauty of his coloring in the grandeur of his outline ; and that nothing but a connected sketch of the latter can do justi ce to the highest charm of his work. Indeed we are by no means certain, that the splendid variety of episode and adventure with which the great enterprises of Cortes are inter woven, does not necessarily withdraw, in some measure, our attention from the naked view of their surpassing audacity ; just as, in the wild Sierras traversed by his army, the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics serves to render less awful the frowning brow of the precipice and the shadowy depth of the ravine." Not long after the publication of the work last named, Mr. Prescott was called to sustain the loss of his venerable and excellent father, wliich for a time interrupted his studies ; but the relaxation of his mind only nerved him for new labors, and in 1847 appeared his "Co?i- quest of Peru," written, like that of Mexico, in very great part from original materials. It is marked by the same striking merits which distinguished his preceding works, and is quite equal in interest to either of them. Few works of imagination have more power to win the fancy and touch the heart. Facts infinitely more instructive than fiction, are found here — more enchanting and more impressive. Two of the most touching instances of literary generosity should be noticed in connection with Mr. Prescott. The first was in relation to the " Conquest of Mexico." Washington Irving had prepared himself to enter that golden field, but on learning that his friend had designs upon it, he yielded it to Prescott, saying, "I am happy to have this opportunity of testifying my high esteem for his talents, and my sense of the very courteous manner in which he has spoken of myself and my writings in his 'Ferdinand and Isabella,' though they inter fered with a part of the subject of his history." Prescott showed himself worthy of this magnanimity. The other in stance was in connection with the last work of Mr. Prescott — "Philip the Second of Spain." Mr. J. L. Motley tells us that he " felt an ine-vitable impulse to write one particular history," and he had chosen the " Rise of the Dutch Republic." But when he learned what Prescott had projected, he feared a clash, and with sad disappointment thought that he must abandon the subject on which his heart was set. He went to Prescott, and thus describes the visit: "He received me -with such a frank and ready and liberal sympathy, and such an open-hearted, NATIONAL PORTRAITS. guileless expansiveness, that I felt a personal affection for him from that hour. He assured me that he had not the slightest obj ection whatever to my plan ; that he wished me every success ; and that, if there were any books in his library bearing on my subjeot that I liked to use, they were entirely at my service. Although it seems easy enough for a man of world-wide repu tation thus to extend the right hand of fellowship to an unknown and struggling aspirant, yet I fear that the history of literature will show that such instances of disinterested kindness are as rare as they are noble." These two generous men entered upon nearly the same field, and proved, as Prescott said, that " no two books ever injured each other." Months passed slowly away before Mr. Prescott could enter fully upon his new work. His eyes were in a bad state, and he complained that he could " Philipize" very little. He resolved to dictate history to his secretary. Then for a time he was in fear of a loss of hearing. He went to England, where he was received with distinguished respect and kindness by the most eminent persons in society and letters, their only regret being that his stay among them was not of greater length. VHiile there the ancient University of Oxford conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Civil Law ; a dignity to be esteemed the greateri as it was unsolicited, and as that learned body is always very sparing of such honors. Two years later we find him at horne, amid a forest of materials, " still Philipizing." His spirited advances were sadly interrupted by the sudden death of his mother. "He wept bitterly. But above every other feeling rose the sense of grati tude for what he had owed to his mother's love and energy." We may know something of his literary persistency when we learn that, besides having attacks of rheumatism, he was com pelled to write, "I have been sorely plagued with dyspeptic debility and pains." Yet despite the great difficulties he com pleted two volumes of " Philip the Second " in 1854. While their publication was going on, he was occupied with the latter part of the reign and life of Philip's illustrious father. He was unwilling to undertake an entirely new work upon Charles V. of Spain, nor did he wish to compete with Robertson, whose Life of the great Monarch had won him his fadeless laurels. Prescott therefore resolved to employ the new mate rials concerning the cloister life of Charles V., and make a sup- WILLLA.M H, PRESCOTT. plement to the work of the Scottish historian. It was published with a new edition of Robertson's history, and Prescott not only won new honors for himself, but also for the transatlantic author. Early in 1858 Mr. Prescott received his first attack of apo plexy.. When, after some time, he could speak, he said to his wife, tenderly leaning over him, " My poor wife 1 I am sorry for you, that this has come upon yoii so soon." Never was there a less selfish utterance. It opens to us the he&rt of the man. In a few weeks he adventured again within the domain of his old and favorite studies. In April the third volume of " Philip the Second " went to the press. It delighted him to think that he was not yet obliged to reduce the amount of his mental exertions. His courage was unfaltering. He did little with his pen toward a fourth volurne of his unfinished workj but ."amused himself," as he said, "with making a revision of his ' Conquest of Mexico.' " On a January day in 1859 Mr. Kirk, his ever faithful secre tary (lately ushered into fame by his " Charles the Bold"), was reading to him and his family, when he stepped into an adjoin ing room. Shortly after, Mr. Kirk heard him groan, hurried to him, and found him wholly unconscious from a stroke of apo plexy. His hour had come; remedies availed nothing. He yielded to the death which he would have preferred, had the choice been left to himself. Without apparent suffering his spirit passed away. On the day of his burial the Representatives of the Common wealth and the members of the Historical Society paid him their last respects. The whole community was moved. The tears shed at his grave by the poor whom he had befriended were as honorable to his memory as those dropped by men of wealth, men of letters, and men of power. From all parts of the land afterwards came expressions of grief. Europe sent her condolence to America. The record of such a life affords a powerful stimulus to ex ertion. What an example of industry, of the power to rise above adverse circumstances, of the courage to undertake labors almost impossible, ofthe persistency which makes nearly every thing possible, of making work a delight and warfare a victory, and of turning the vast difficulties to advantage in the one great NATIONAL PORTRAITS. purpose of a life ! Prescott must stand pre-eminent in literary heroisiji. Were this all, his name should go down to the young men of every age, linked with the touching story of his adversities and with the inspiring record of his successes, so that his fire might kindle enthusiasm in others who need such energies, in every department of life. But this is not all. There was a charm in the home-life of Dr. Prescott. He contributed his utmost to the happiness of his family, his friends, his neighbors, and the stranger within his gates. Children knew how condescend ing he was at a holiday hour or on a Thanksgiving-day. The last words of his private memoranda will long be remembered by the family circle, for he wrote that it had " been brightened by the presence of all the children and grand-children, God bless them!" His domestic affections were almost uppermost in his character. Very charitable was he to the poor. Like his mother, he found happiness in an unseen and free-handed beneficence. In political opinion he was moderate. He. had the truest love for his country, and might be counted in the school of Washington, Hamilton, and Everett. He was in the habit of saying, that he dealt with political discussions only when they related to events and persons, at least two centuries old. .This was, perhaps, one reason why he declined to write the Second Conquest of Mexico — that achieved by General Scott. "The theme would be taking, " he said, " but I had rather not m.eddle with heroes who have not been under ground two centuries at least." He never courted popularity ; it followed him. He never sought an office, and his friends did not venture to ask him to come down -from his high elevation in order to fill one. He was the model of a retired patriot, whose pen was his sceptre of extended power. In his deep researches he sank Artesian wells into what had been regarded as deserts, but where now are fountains and well-watered plains. He added richly to the standard literature of the age, the literary fame of his country, and the fraternity of nations. If in a past century Spanish chivalry played its last act in the New World, in the present century the historian of the Spanish Conquests affords some proof ofthe high eminence of America under a more practical, progressive, and Christian civilization. The century-plant has bloomed, never, we trust, to fade nor drop its leaves to the dust, 10 Engraved 'J;iy T.B Welch. — Elae,uerTeol)rpedby J._H,WhitehurBl M TI IL. HaA. .'ivHD W 31 ILlLMi © mH PHILADELPHIA, .EtTGE-AYED POE- RICK AND HART'S NATIONAL POIlTILA.IT GALLEHY o:f disti;t.:,'tttshed Americans MILLARD FILLMORE. When a man has honorably discharged duties to which he has been unexpectedly and suddenly called, especially when those duties have been difficult, and their performance has been clearly the result of established principles, our curiosity in reference to his history is great, and to minister to the gratification of such a curiosity in the present case is highly gratifying. Few persons, probably, sup posed in the year 1848, when Millard Fillmore was elected vice- president of this vast Republic, that he would soon be called to succeed General Taylor, his popular chief, and that he would so ably perform some of the most difficult duties which ever devolved on the ruler of a great nation. Let us, before we particularly look at this distinguished personage, briefly trace his origin. John Fillmore, the great-grandfather of Millard Fillmore, and the common ancestor of all of that name in the United States, was the son of English parents, and was horn about the year 1702, in Ipswich, Massa chusetts ; and having a strong propensity towards a sea-faring life, at the age of about nineteen he went on board a fishing vessel which sailed from Boston. The vessel had been but a few days out -when it was captured by a noted pirate-ship, commanded by Captain Phillips, and young Fillmore was kept as a prisoner. He remained on board this ship nine months, enduring every hardship which a strong constitution ahd firm spirits' were capable of sustaining ; and though frequently threatened with immediate death, unless he would sign the piratical articles of the vessel, he steadily refused until two others had been taken prisoners, who also refusing to join the crew, the three made an attack upon the pirates, and after killing several, took the vessel and brought it safe into Boston harbor. The printed narrative of this adventure details one of the most daring and successful exploits on record. The surviving pirates were tried and executed, and the NATIONAL PORTRAITS. heroic conduct of the captors was acknowledged by the British govern ment. John Fillmore died in that part of the town of Norwich now called Franklin, in Connecticut. Nathaniel, the son of John Fillmore, settled at Bennington, in Ver mont, then called the Hampshire Grants, where he lived till his death, which took place in 1814. He served in the French war, and was a true whig of the revolution, gallantly fighting as a lieutenant under General Stark, in the battle of Bennington. His son Nathaniel, the father of Millard Fillmore, was born at Bennington, April 19, 1771, and early in life removed to what is now called Summer Hill, Cayuga County, New York, where Millard was born, Jan. 7, 1800. Na thaniel was a farmer, and soon after the birth of his son, lost all his property by a bad title to one of the military lots he had purchased. About the year 1802, he removed to the town of Sempronius, (now called Niles,) in the same county, and resided there till 1819, when he removed to Erie county, to cultivate a small farm with his own hands. He was a strong and uniform supporter of Jefferson, Madison, and Tompkins, and is now a firm whig. The mother of Millard Fill more was Phebe Millard, daughter of Doctor Abiather Millard. She was a native of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and though of limited educa tion, possessed intellect of a very high order, united with great native beauty, graceful manners, and exquisite sensibility ; so .that she was eminently distinguished among her connections. She died in 1831, and therefore did not live to enjoy — what only a fond mother can fully appreciate — the national reputation of her son. The narrow means of his father deprived Millard of any advantages of education beyond what were afforded by the imperfect and ill-taught common schools of the county. Books were scarce and dear, and at the age of fourteen, when more favored youths are far advanced in their classical studies, or enjoying in colleges the benefit of well fur nished libraries, young Fillmore had read but little except his common school-books and his Bible. At that age he was sent into the wilds of Livingston county, to learn the trade of a clothier. He remained there about four months, when he was placed with another person to learn the same business and wool-carding in the town where his father lived. A small village library was formed there soon after, which gave him the first opportunity of acquiring general knowledge through books. He nobly improved his privilege, and his intellectual appetite grew by what it fed upon. His thirst for knowledge soon became insatiate, and his every leisure moment was spent in reading. Four years were passed in this way, working at his trade, and storing MILLARD FILLMORE. his mind at every hour he could command, from books of history, biography, and travels. At the age of nineteen, Millard Fillmore fortunately made acquaintance with the late Walter Wood^ Esq., one o^ the most esti mable citizens of Cayuga county. Judge Wood was a man of wealth, and of great capacity for business ; he had an excellent law library, but had little professional practice. He soon saw that under the rude exterior of the clothier's boy were powers which only required proper development to raise their possessor to high distinction and usefulness, and advised him to quit his trade and to study law. In reply to the objection of a want of education, means, and friends, to aid him in a course of professional studies. Judge Wood kindly offered to give him a place in his office, to advance money to defray his expenses, and wait until success in business should furnish the means of repayment. The offer was accepted. The apprentice boy bought out his time, and entered the office of Judge Wood. We have heard that his former employer protested against the choice which his apprentice made, declaring that he had been intent on the lad's future welfare, but he had been foolish enough to leave a good business to become a lawyer. For more than two years did Millard Fillmore closely apply himself to business and study, reading law and general literature, and practising as a surveyor. Fearful of incurring too large a debt to his benefactor, he taught school for three months in the year, and thus acquired the means of partly supporting himself. In the autumn of 1821, he removed to the county of Erie, and the following spring entered a law office in Buffalo, where he sustained himself by teaching, and continued his legal studies till 1823, when he was admitted to the court of Common Pleas. Being, however, too diffident of his then untried powers to enter into competition with the older members of the bar in Buffalo, he removed to Aurora, in that county, where he commenced the practice of law. Here, in the year 1826, he married Miss Abigail Powers, the youngest child of the late Rev. Lemuel Powers, by whom he has two children, a son and a daughter, both worthy of their parents. Mrs. Fillmore is descended, on the maternal side, from Henry Leland, one of the earliest settlers of Massachusetts. She is a lady of great moral worth, highly esteemed among those who have the honor of her acquaintance, of exceedingly kind and unobstrusive manners, an^ is a bright ornament to the high sfation she has been called to occupy. In the year 1827 Mr. Fillmore was admitted as an attorney, and NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in 1829, as a counseller in the supreme court. Previous to this time his practice had been very limited, but his application to juridical studies had been constant and severe, so that during these few years of comparative seclusion he acquired that general knowledge of the fundamental principles of the law which has mainly contributed to give him an elevated rank among the members of that liberal profession. His legal acquirements and skill as an advocate, soon attracted the attention of his professional brethren in Buffalo, and he was offered a highly advantageous connection with an elder member of the bar in that city, which he accepted, and removed there in 1830. Here he continued to reside till his election as comptroller, and consequent re moval to Albany in 1847. The first entrance of Mr. Fillmore into public life was in January, 1829, when he took his seat as a member of the House of Assembly, from Erie county, to which office he was reelected the two following years. The democratic party in those three sessions, as for many years before and after, held triumphant sway in both houses of the legislature, and but little opportunity was afforded a young member of the opposition to distinguish himself. But talent, integrity, and devotion to public business will make a man felt and respected, even amidst a body of opposing partisans ; and Mr. Fillmore, although in a hopeless minority so far as any question of a political or party bear ing was involved, on all questions of a general character, soon won the confidence of the house in an unexample(t degree. It was a common remark among the members, " If Fillmore says it is right, we will vote for it." The most important measure of a general nature which came up during Mr. Fillmore's service in the state legislature, was the bill to abolish imprisonment for debt. In behalf of that great and philan thropic measure he took an active part, urging with unanswerable arguments its justice and expediency, and, as a member of the com mittee on the subject, aiding to perfect its details. To Millard Fillmore, with his then coadjutors, are the people" of New York indebted for expunging from the statute-book that relic of a barbarous age — ^imprisonment for debt, Mr. Fillmore was first elected to Congress in the autumn of 1832, and took his seat in the stormy session immediately succeeding the removal of the deposites from the United States Bank. In those days, the business of the house, and debates, were led by old an(J experienced members — new ones, unless they enjoyed a -wide-spread and almost national reputation— rarely taking an active and conspicuous part. MILLARD FILLMORE. "Little chance, therefore, was afforded Mr. Fillmore, a member of the opposition, young and unassuming, of displaying those qualities which so eminently fitted him for legislative usefulness. But the school was one admirably qualified fully to develope and cultivate those powers which, under more favorable circumstances, have enabled him to ren der such varied and important services to his country. At the close of his term of service, Mr. Fillmore resumed the practice of his profession, which he pursued with distinguished repu tation and success, until, yielding to the public request, he consented again to become a candidate, and was reelected to Congress in the autumn of 1836. In the twenty-fifth Congress he took a more active part than he did during his first term, and on the assembling of the next Congress, to which he was reelected by a largely increased majority, he was assigned a prominent place on what, next to that of ways and means, it was justly anticipated would become the most im portant committee of the house — that on elections. It was in this Congress that the celebrated contested case of New Jersey came before that body, in which he greatly distinguished himself. The prominent part which Mr. Fillmore took in that affair, his patient investigation of all its complicated minute details, the clear, convincing manner in which he set forth the facts, the lofty and indignant elo quence with which he denounced the meditated act, all strongly directed public attention to him as one of the ablest men of that Congress, distinguished as it was by the eminent ability and statesmanship of many of its members. The agitation in Congress of this New Jersey election case, and the currency measures adopted by the administra tion of Mr. Van Buren, were among the causes which contributed to the overthrow of the democratic party, and the triumph of the whigs in the presidential election of 1840, as well as the majority obtained by them of members elected to both houses in the twenty- seventh Congress. On the assembling of this twenty-seventh Congress, to which Mr. Fillmore was reelected by a majority larger than was ever before given in his district) he was placed as chairman of the committee of ways and means. The duties of that station, always arduous and responsible, were at that time peculiarly so. A new administration had come into office, and found public affairs in a state of derangement. The revenue was inadequate to meet the ordinary expenses of govern ment; the already large existing debt was rapidly swelling in magnitude ; commerce and manufactures were depressed ; the currency was deranged ; banks were embarrassed ; and general distress pervaded NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the community. To bring order out of confusion ; to replenish the national treasury ; to provide means that would enable the government to meet the demands against it, and to pay off the debt ; to revive the industry of the country and restore its usual prosperity — these were the tasks devolved on the committee of ways and means. With an energy and devotion to the public weal, worthy of all admiration, Mr. Fillmore applied himself to the task, and, sustained by a majority in Congress, whose industry and zeal in the public service under peculiar embarrassments, has seldom been equalled, and never surpassed, he succeeded in its accomplishment. The measures he brought forward and advocated with matchless ability, speedily relieved the government from its embarrassment, and have fully justified the most sanguine expectations of their benign influence upon the country at large. A new and more accurate system of keeping accounts, rendering them clear and intelligible, was introduced. The favoritism and other evils in the treasury were checked by the requirement of contracts ; the credit of the government was increased ; ample means were provided for the exigencies of the public service, and the payment of the national debt was secured. Commerce and manufactures were now revived, and prosperity and hope once more smiled on the land. The labor of devising, explaining and defending measures productive of such happy results, rested chiefly on Mr. Fillmore. He was ably sustained by his political friends in Congress ; but on him, nevertheless, the main responsibility rested. After his long and severe labors in the committee-room — ^labors sufficiently arduous to break down any but one of an iron constitution — sustained by a spirit which nothing could conquer, he was required to give his unremitting attention to the business of the house, to make any explanation that might be asked for, and be ready -with a complete and triumphant refutation of every objection that the ingenuity of his opponents could devise. All this, too, was required to he done -with promptness, clearness, dignity and good temper. For the proper per formance of these varied duties, few men are more happily qualified than Mr. Fillmore. At that fortunate age when the physical and intellectual powers are displayed in the highest perfection, and the hasty impulses of youth, without any loss of its vigor, are brought under control of large experience in public affairs, -with a mind capable of descending to minute details, as well as of conceiving a grand sys tem of national policy, calm and deliberate in judgment, self-possessed and fluent in debate, of dignified presence, never unmindfiil of the courtesies becoming social and public intercourse, and of political MILLARD FILLMORE. integrity unimpeachable, he was admirably qualified for the post 0/ leader of the majority in the twenty-seventh Congress. Just before the close of the first session of this Congress, Mr. Fill more, in a letter addressed to his constituents, signified his intention not to be a candidate for reelection. He acknowledged with gratitude and pride the cordial and generous support given him by his constitu ents, but the severe labor devolved upon him by his. official duties demanded some relaxation, and private affairs, necessarily neglected in some degree during several years of public service, called for atten tion. Notwithstanding his declaration to withdraw from the station he filled with so much honor and usefulness, the convention of his district, unanimously, and by acclamation, renominated him, and ear nestly pressed upon him a compliance with their wishes. He was deeply affected by this last of many proofs of confidence on the part of those who had known him best; but he firmly adhered to the determination he had expressed, and at the close of the term for which he was elected, he returned to his home more gratified at his relief from the cares of official Hfe, than he had ever been at the prospect of its highest rewards and honors. But though keenly enjoying the freedom from public responsibilities, and the pleasures of social inter course in which he was now permitted to indulge, the qualities of mind and habits of systematic close attention to business, which so eminently fitted him for a successful congressional career, were soon called into full exercise by the rapidly increasing requirements of professional pur suits, which had never been wholly given up. There is a fascination in the strife of politics, its keen excitements, and its occasional but always tempting, brilliant triumphs, that, when once felt, few men are able to resist so completely as to return with relish to the compara tively tame and dull occupations of private life. But to the calm and equable temperament of Mr. Fillmore, repose, after the stormy scenes in which he had been compelled to take a leading part, was most grateful. He had ever regarded his profession with affection and pride, and he coveted more the just, fairly-won fame of the jurist than the highest political distinction. He welcomed the toil, therefore, which a large practice in the higher courts imposed upon him, and was as remarkable for the thoroughness with which he prepared his legal arguments, as he was for patient, minute investigation of the dry and difficult subjects it was so often his duty to elucidate and defend in the house of representatives. In 1844, in accordance with a popular wish too strong to be resisted, Mr. Fillmore reluctantly accepted the whig nomination for Governoi NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of New York. The issue of that conflict, in which he shared in the signal defeat of his party, has become a matter of history, and he was only pained at what he feared might be the political results. For himself he had no regrets ; because he had no desires towards the high and honorable office for which he had been a candidate, and he trusted that with the failure of his election, would end any further demand upon him to serve in public life. In the year 1847, a popular call, similar to the one just named, was again made upon him, to which he yielded a reluctant assent, and was elected comptroller of the state, by a majority larger than had been given to any state officer at any former election during many years. There were some peculiar causes which contributed to swell his ma jority at that election, but independently of them, there can be no doubt that the general conviction of his eminent fitness for the office, would, under any circumstances of the opposing party, have given him a great and triumphant vote. That such evidence of the esteem of his fellow citizens was gratifying to his feelings, cannot be doubted, but few can justly appreciate the sacrifices they imposed. The duties of that office could not be discharged without abandoning at once and forever — for who ever regained a professional standing once lost ? — a lucrative business which he had been years in acquiring, nor without severing all those social ties, and breaking up all those domestic arrangements, which rendered home happy, and bound him to the city where the best portion of his life had been spent. Yet feeling that the state had a right to command his services, he cheerfiilly submitted to its exactions, and on the first of January, 1848, removed to Albany, where he displayed, in the performance of the duties of his arduous and responsible office, the high abiUty and thorough attention which have always characterized the discharge of his public trusts. We now approach the period in the life of Mr. Fillmore, when the entire Union evinced its appreciation of his talents and worth, and a new theatre was presented to him for the exercise of his matured judgment, consummate prudence, and an abiding attachment and fidelity to the constitution and Union, not excelled since the days of the Revolution. In the winter of 1844, when the eyes of the whigs were turned to Henry Clay, of Kentucky, as their leader in the contest of that year, by a numerous portion of the party, Mr. Fillmore was looked to as the candidate for the vice-presidency. The whigs of the state of New York, in general convention, unanimously nominated Henry Clay for president, and Millard Fillmore for vice-president. At the Baltimore convention, in May of that year, the delegates from MILLARD FILLMORE. New York, with one exception, supported Mr. Fillmore, but Mr. Frelinghuysen, a distinguished citizen of New Jersey, received the nomination. The startling results of the campaign in Mexico, and the admira tion and regard everywhere entertained for the bravery, cool judgment and eminent services of the hero of Resaca de la Palma, Palo Alto, Monterey, and Buena Vista, early designated General Taylor as the next president of the United States. While it was well known that General Taylor had but little experience in the civil affairs of the country, the confidence in his integrity, sound common sense, and practical wisdom, was unbounded ; and a statesman, ready and willing cordially to cooperate with General Taylor in carrying on the admin istration, and well versed in the details of the affairs of government, was universally sought for by the whig party, which, at an early day, it was clearly perceived, must be triumphant in the coming contest. In view of all these considerations, the whigs of the Union, in national convention, selected Millard Fillmore for vice president, and there after the names of Taylor and Fillmore became the rallying cry of that party throughout the Union, and resulted in the triumphant election of the whig candidates. In February, 1849, Mr. Fillmore resigned the office of comptroller- of the state of New York, to enter upon the discharge of the duties of vice-president ; and it is not too much to say, that, distinguished as were his predecessors in the office of comptroller, for integrity of char acter, financial talents, and a faithful regard to the interests of the state, no one of them left the office with a higher reputation than Mr. Fillmore, or with a more general conviction on the part of the public, that all the duties of the station had been discharged with ability and fidelity. On March 4, 1849, Mr. Fillmore took the oath of office, as vice- president of the United States. His address to the senate was com^ mended alike for the combined modesty and dignity of its delivery, and for the sound and patriotic principles which it presented. A new order of talent was now called forth on the part of Mr. Fillmore, and full evidence was soon afforded that he possessed it. The session of Congress which commenced in December, 1849, proved more exciting than any previous one, and it soon became apparent to every dispassionate observer, that the strength of our in stitutions was then to be tested ; and that upon the wisdom, firmness, discretion and patriotism of those in power, would depend the continu ance of the Union and the constitution. In 1826, the presiding officer 9 n 3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of the senate, the late John C. Calhoun, had assumed the position that the vice'-president had no power to call a senator to order for words spoken in debate. This decision had been acquiesced in, and was the established usage of the senate. Vice-president Fillmore resolved to resume what he deemed the proper duties of the presiding officer. In a neat, perspicuous address to the senate, on a fitting occasion, he announced his determination to maintain decorum in debate, and to call senators to order for any offensive words used. The senate evinced its appreciation and sanction of this determination by unanimously ordering the views so expressed to be entered at length on their jour nal, where they stand as evidence of the firmness of the presiding officer of the senate, and his determination to shrink from no duty. The courtesy, ability, and dignity, exhibited by Mr. Fillmore, while presiding over the deliberations of the senate, excited universal com mendation. But yet higher honors awaited Millard Fillmore. While he was fully engaged in the discharge of his high ami delicate duties as vice- president, the whole country was startled by the announcement ofthe sudden illness, and almost immediate decease of General Taylor, the President of the United States. At this critical period, the most difficult and exciting questions which had ever agitated the people of this country virere pending. The whole Union was aroused; section was arrayed against section; party divisions were broken up; and an universal gloom prevailed. The cabinet at once resigned, but the- new president, with dignity and delicacy, declined to consider their resignations until after the obsequies to the lamented dead had been performed. On the tenth of July, Mr. Fillmore took the oath, as president, to "preserve, protect, and defend the constitution of the United States" — and all men were assured that solemn pledge would be faithfully kept — that the crisis was passed — and that the Union and the constitution would remain to them and their posterity. Within two weeks the president selected a cabinet, distinguished for its ability, patriotism, and devotion to the Union, and possessing in an eminent degree, the confidence of the nation. With his confidential advisers, the president immediately applied himself to relieve the embarrassments of the country, and to the best means of restoring quiet and confidence to all sections of the Union. His message to Congress on the difficulties with Texas, presented views so calm, just and reasonable, yet firm and decided, that full confidence in the administration was everywhere felt, and this message was regarded as the bow of promise and hope 10 MILLARD FILLMORE. The settlement of that vexed question opened the way for the speedy adjiistment' of others. The assembling of Congress on the second of December, 1850, was looked forward to with anxiety ; as it was well known that then the annual message ofthe president would be delivered, disclosing the views and principles of the new administration. This document was calm, conciliatory, yet firm, and thoroughly American in all its parts ; showing that the president was governed by an earnest desire to con ciliate the warring sections and restore harmony to the Union at large. It is the peculiar boast of our country, that its highest honors and dignities are the legitimate objects of ambition to the humblest persons in the land as well as to those who are most favored by the gifts of birth and fortune. Ours is a government of the people, and from the people, emphatically, have sprung those who, in the army or navy, on the bench of justice, or in the halls of legislation, have shed the brightest lustre on the page of our history. So almost universally is this the case, that when we find an instance to the contrary, of one born to a fortune and enjoying the advantages of influential connections rising to a high place inthe councils of the nation, the exception de serves a special note for its rarity. No merit is therefore claimed fot Millard Fillmore on account of the fact that from comparatively humble parentage he attained the highest position in the country. His history, however, like many others in our Gallery, affords a use ful lesson, as showing what may be accomplished in the face of adverse circumstances, in a public and private capacity, by intellect, aided and controlled by energy, strict integrity, and resolute perseverance, Mr. Fillmore is emphatically, one of the people ; and for all that he has and is, he is indebted, under God, to his own exertions, the faithful performance of every duty, and steadfast adherence to whatever is right. Born to an inheritance of comparative poverty, he has struggled with difficulties of no ordinary character, and occupies a proud eminence in our land, which attracts the admiration of the world. He retires from the highest honors in the gift of a great and free people with their universal esteem, and his name shall be immortalized in the annals of our history among the choicest of our sons. In every station in which he has been placed, he has shown himself "honest, capable, and faithful to the constitution," In person, Mr, Fillmore is about six feet in height, and well pro portioned. His complexion is light, and the expression of his face is mild and intelligent, indicating the prominent traits of character by NATIONAL PORTRAITS. which lie is distinguished ; among which are energy, benevolence, firmness, and integrity. His manners are easy and affable, while they indicate great dignity, and show a royal bearing. In a word, his deportment has always been that which became his station, and ear nestly do we wish him a long life in rendering important services to his countrymen, and enjoying the happiness which ever attends virtue and usefulness. We are content that for a short season he should retire to the enjoyments of social and domestic life, of which he is the pride and ornament, and where he most delights to show the excellen cies of his character ; but he must be content ere long to return to the duties and toils of public service, for which his talents, his experience, and hifi enjoyment of public confidence so admirably qualify him. 12 Eng'dhjHB.HalllTTiram a Tamtiiig iiv Hes^i' E'lEA^IEILILS^ IPEIEm(S®» FRANKLIN PIERCE On the nineteenth of April, 1775, the revolutionary committee of Boston, sent out couriers in every direction to collect recruits for the army. One of these came to the door of a farm house at Chelmsford, in Massachusetts. He there found a young man of eighteen, named Benjamin Pierce, to whom he delivered his message, and passed on. This youth had heard from the messenger the news of the battle of Lexington ; he immediately left the plough, shouldered his mus ket, marched to the army, and took part in the battle of Bunker Hill. This young man became the father of Franklin Pierce, whom this great country has called to the presidential chair. The limit assigned to this memoir, will only allow us to add in reference to the father, that in succession he became Captain in the army, a cultivator of wild lands in Hampshire, Brigade Major, Sheriff of Hillsborough, in his adopted State, Councillor and Governor of the State, and died at Hillsborough, full of days and of honors, in 1839.. Franklin Pierce, the sixth child of his mother, the second wife of the distinguished man of whom we have just spoken, was born at Hillsborough, in the State of New Hampshire, November 23, 1804. His native county, at the time of his birth, covered a much more ex tensive territory than at present, and among other men of eminence, gave birth to General Stark, the hero of Bennington, Daniel Webster, Levi Woodbury, Jeremiah Smith, the eminent jurist, and Governor of the State, James Miller, General M'Neil, and Senator Atherton, Benjamin Pierce, the devoted patriot, furnished two sons to the army of 1812, and his eldest daughter became the wife of Major M'Neil, so that few families were more deeply interested in the war, than was that of our hero. At this period, Franklin was less than eight years of age, but, unlike his noble father, had already commenced his literary studies, and in due time was sent to the academy at Hancock, where he was received into the family of his father's old friend, Peter Wood bury, the father of the Judge. In 1820, at the age of sixteen, he VOL. IV — 19 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. became a student at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine, where he conducted himself, on the whole, in a manner which pleased the pro fessors, and more than met the highest -wishes of his fellow students. We have spoken in a somewhat qualified manner of his pursuits, because it must be conceded, that the two first years of his studies he lost much time, which, however, was amply redeemed in the two years which followed, so that he took a highly creditable degree. His fi-ank- ness of temper, fascination of manner, and benevolence of conduct, then won him hearts which he has never lost. In 1824, he returned home to derive from his father's example and lessons, high and noble feel ings of patriotism. Having chosen the law as a profession, Franklin became a student in the office of Judge Woodbury, at Portsmouth ; after which he spent two years at the law school at Northampton, Massachusetts, and in the office of Judge Parker, at Amherst. In 1827, he was admitted to the bar, and began the practice of his profession at Hillsborough. Though by no means eminently successful at first, he rose in the end to a very distinguished position. In 1829, the town of Hillsborough conferred on Franklin Pierce his first public honor, by sending him as its representative to the Legislature of the State. His whole service in that body comprised four years, in the two latter of which, he was elected Speaker, by a vote of one hundred and fifty-five, against fifty-eight for other candi dates. His merit as a presiding officer was universally acknowledged. He had all the natural gifts which qualified him for the post ; courtesy, firmness, quickness and accuracy of judgment, and a clearness of men tal perception that brought its own regularity into the scene of confiised and entangled debate; and to these qualities he added whatever was to be attained by laborious study of parliamentary rules. In the year 1833, he was elected a member of Congress ; at -this period he was but twenty-nine, but he has always been chosen to office at a much earlier age than comports with general practice. And yet, for himself, he has never aimed at public distinction, though always ready to step forward, when the welfare of his country might seem to be promoted by his doing so. Though his labors in Congress made but little noise and show, they were always directed to sub stantial objects, nor did they fail of success. Even at this early period, Franklin Pierce's character began to be well understood by men of no small judgment. General Jackson once remarked to the Hon. Henry Hubbard, " You have a young man in your State, young Franklin Pierce, who will be, before he is FRANKLIN PIERCE. sixty years ofage, a man for the Democracy, without the demagogue;" and Mr. Hawthorne tells us, when that eminent man was on his death bed, he remarked, as if with prophetic foresight of his young friend's destiny, that " the interests of the country would be safe in such hands." His whole conduct in the House of Representatives was ' such as to show a sound judgment, and the warmest patriotism ; he was intent on the benefit of the whole people, and the preservation of the whole Union. Franklin Pierce had scarcely reached the legal age for such an elevation, when, in 1837, he was elected a Senator of the United States, and took his seat at the commencement of the presidency of Mr. Van Buren. Here he was brought into contact with Calhoun, Webster, and Clay; here too, were Benton, Silas Wright, and Woodbury, with Buchanan and Walker, — men of eloquence and of vast power. Here he soon began to work, and proved that his public education had amply qualified him for high posts ; and here, on many occasions, he displayed eloquence of a very high order. We should enjoy a high pleasure in detailing the services he rendered in the Senate for five years, but we are prevented for want of room. It is pleasant to know that they cannot be forgotten. In June, 1842, he signified his purpose of retiring from the Senate, Mr. Pierce had removed from Hillsborough, and taken up his resi dence at Concord, in 1838. On that occasion, the citizens of his native town invited him to a public dinner, in token of their affection and respect. In accordance with his usual taste, he gratefiilly accepted the kindly sentiment, but declined the public demonstration of it. On retiring from the Senate, Mr. Pierce returned to the Bar, and immediately started into full practice. Few lawyers, probably, have been interested in a greater variety of business than he, and few have met -with greater success. No one ever showed more fearless independence ; none ever devoted himself more earnestly to the interest of his clients ; and no one has been more free from reproach, or more loaded with honors. When he resigned his seat in the Senate, he did it with a fixed pur pose never again to be voluntarily separated from his family for any considerable length of time, except at the call of his country in case of war ; and on this account, when President Polk, in 1846, tendered him the office of Attorney General of the United States, he declined the proposal. He declined also the renewal of the honor of the Senate, and a nomination for the office of Governor of his native State. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. But the resolution of Pierce to remain at home, could not be kept when, in 1847, the war with Mexico called forth his patriotism and his military spirit. Here, as in every other instance, he showed the possession of powers never developed till they were really needed. But to describe those powers, or to present a full view of his military knowledge, his deliberate courage, his benevolence, and his success, would in this plaCe be impossible ; suffice it to say, that he was all that a General of the United States Army ought to be, and that his soldiers and his enemies on the field, have alike borne testimony to his skill and his honorable conduct. In the autumn of 1850, a convention assembled at Concord, for the revision of the Constitution of New Hampshire. By an almost unani mous vote, General Pierce was elected its president, and his conduct as presiding officer was satisfactory to all parties. His powers of pub lic speaking, his tact for business, and his never-failing courtesy greatly contributed to the regularity, unanimity, and results of the con vention. Immediately after the action of the State Convention which nomi nated him for the Presidency, General Pierce wrote a letter to Mr. Atherton, declining to be a candidate for the Presidency, and declaring that the use of his name in any event before the Democratic National Convention would be utterly repugnant to his tastes and wishes. The strongest personal importunity of his friends could not dissuade him from the publication of this letter. The most earnest appeals to his State pride were made in vain. His invariable reply was,' "No man can feel more grateful than I do for the high honor New Hampshire has conferred upon me. Her noble Democracy have stood by me always — but I must decline being considered a candidate for the Presidency. I can support most cheerfully either of the distinguished men who are mentioned in connection with the: office. Let the Balti more Convention designate the man, and the Democracy of the whole country will rally in his support." Various movements took place before the Convention at Baltimore, all looking towards the nomination of Pierce, but he remained im movable. At length the Convention met, June 12, 1852, and con tinued its sessions four days. But from the time the letter to Mr. Atherton was written to the day the news of his nomination by the Baltimore Convention was received. General Pierce had been almost incessantly occupied with important professional engagements. Proba bly no prominent man in the country observed with less care the chances of the Presidential nomination than Franklin Pierce. The FRANKLIN PIERCE. letters he daily received from all sections of the country, predicting the necessity of his nomination as a compromise candidate, were regarded rather as the evidence of strong personal predilections and private friendship than as the prophetic predictions of a result so soon to be accomplished. It is a most beautiful example of "the office seeking the man, rather than the man the office." It is too well known to make it needful to state here, that day after day did the members of the Convention ballot for various men without avail, except to prove that no one of the gentlemen prominent before the people would succeed in obtaining the two-thirds vote requisite for a nomination. Thus far not a vote had been thrown for General Pierce, but at the thirty-sixth ballot the delegation from Virginia brought forward his name. Every ballot increased the number, till on the forty-ninth ballot there were two hundred and eighty-two for Franklin Pierce, and eleven for all other candidates. " Thus," as Mr. Hawthorne says, " Franklin Pierce became the nominee of the Convention ; and as quickly as the lightning flash could blazen it abroad, his name was on every tongue, from end to end of this vast country. Within an hour he grew to be illustrious." We are informed, that when General Pierce received the news of his nomination, it affected him with no thrill of joy, hut a sadness, which, for many days, was perceptible in his deportment. It awoke in his heart the sense of religious dependence — a sentiment that has grown considerably stronger as all the toils and anxieties of the office have been presenting themselves before him. Such is Franklin Pierce, the fourteenth President of the United States, elected by a far larger vote than any of his predecessors. In private life, in the best sense of the word, he is a gentleman ; in his legislative career distinguished for his abihty; as a General he is crowned with laurels won by fighting the enemy, rather than impro perly forced from the brows of other men ; and is now elected by the popular voice, the chief ruler of the most happy and honored nation on the earth. The old people of his neighborhood, Mr. Hawthorne tells us, give a very delightful picture of Franklin Pierce, when he was some ten or twelve years of age. They describe him as a beautiful boy -with blue eyes, hght curling hair, and a sweet expression of face. At present, he is about five feet nine inches in height, erect in his form, and slenderly built. He has not the breadth of shoulders, nor the depth of chest, which indicate a vigorous constitution. His face is thin, and his complexion pale ; in a word, he is one of that wirey, NATIONAL PORTRAITS. active class of men, who are all muscle and nerve, capable of enduring every sort of hardship. His manners show him to be a man of ac complishments, and well acquainted with the ways of the world ; he has broad and comprehensive views of statesmanship, which, however, are never developed till the proper time. No one can see him without admiring his unassuming and affable manners ; always self-possessed, and ready to converse ; his voice is highly agreeable, and he speaks with great fluency and correctness. In a word, he is felt by all who see him to be the true gentleman. We scarcely feel ourselves at liberty to say much of the excellent lady who stands to General Pierce in the nearest possible relation ; and especially do we refrain, as we have reason to believe that, hke one of the loveliest flowers of nature, she would throw around her the results of her excellencies, while she wishes to be hidden. Her talents, amiableness, and piety, have always influenced her in the discharge of every duty as a wife and a mother. On that last sweet title, she can no longer dwell. Two children, both sons, have, alas, gone to the grave, the last but recently. Lovely, intelhgent, affectionate, — and arrived at eleven years of age, he promised to be the source of happiness in the domestic circle, if not indeed the dispenser of good hereafter to many. But in a moment, by a sad calamity, of which the nation has heard with grief, he was torn by the ruthless hand of death from the side of fond parents. Religion alone could assuage their grief, and that we trust it has done. General Pierce enters on the duties of his high office with pleasant prospects. As he is not the choice of a party, but the elected ruler of the people, he has no pledges to fulfil of introducing unsuitable men to office, or to carry measures of doubtful results. The country looks up to him -with confidence as to a prosperous progress and termination of his authority, nor will we suffer ourselves to believe in the possi bility of their disappointment. ENERA VED BY TB WBLCH/PHIL FBOM A DAGUEBREJTYFE BYMGLEES & EEHMOlf. (EE®[E(EE RflOFFLDM mh^'^^^.. FrmtrdinJFL.nti-. GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. The citizen, whose name appears at the head of this article, was born in the city of Philadelphia, on the 10th day of July, 1792. At that time and several years afterwards, his father, the late Alexander James Dallas, held the office of Secretary of the Commonwealth, by the appointment of General Thomas Mifflin, the first Governor of Penn sylvania, under the constitution of 1790. He was the second of three sons, the elder of whom was the late Commodore Dallas of the navy of the United States, and the younger, the late Judge Dallas of the city of Pittsburg. After the usual pre paratory course of study, which he pursued at Germantown, under the superintendance of Mr. Dorfeuille, and at Philadelphia, under Provost Andrews, he entered Nassau Hall at Princeton, New Jersey, as a student of the arts and sciences, and after a residence of three years, was graduated with the highest honors of his class. Towards this venerable institution, long and justly celebrated for the successful cultivation of literature and the sciences, Mr. Dallas has ever cherished a filial regard, while his subsequent career has given him rank among the most honorable and honored of her sons. Having completed his academical studies, he commenced with ardor the study of the law, in the office of his father, under whose tuition he rapidly acquired the elements of his fiiture profession. His progress was suddenly interrupted by a great public event, which for a time disturbed the plans and diverted the pursuits of a large number of our citizens. On the 18th of June, 1812, war was declared by the Congress of the United States, against the united kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and Mr. Dallas partaking largely of the patriotic feelings excited by that event, suspended his studies and joined a company of volunteers, with a view to military duty, intending to resume and complete his preparation for the bar, when his services as a soldier should no longer be required. This purpose was, however, soon modified by an unexpected call upon him for patriotic service in another NATIONAL PORTRAITS, capacity. Albert Gallatin was about to proceed to Russia, upon the mission which issued in the treaty of Ghent ; and having selected Mr. Dallas to accompany him as private secretary, he was discharged from his military engagements, and a few days afterwards, left the United States on that mission. Previously to his departure, in April, 1813, and about three months before he attained the age of twenty- one years, he was admitted to the bar; the court consenting, in con sideration of the peculiar circumstances, to relax their rules, both in respect to the time of preparatory study, and the age required for admission. Here we must suspend our narrative, to introduce a brief account of the family to which Mr. Dallas belongs : it will throw light upon our subject, and not be without interest to the reader. Robert Charles Dallas, the paternal grandfather of George Mifflin Dallas, emigrated from Scotland to the Island of Jamaica, about the middle of the last century, or a little earlier. He was by profession a physician, and after a career of great success and reputation in that island, returned to Scotland, for the double purpose of regaining his health and edu cating his children. His family at that time, besides his wife, who survived him, consisted of four sons: Robert, Stuart, Alexander James, Charles — and two daughters — Charlotte and Elizabeth. Dr. Robert Charles Dallas did not return to Jamaica, although most of his children did. One or two of them settled in England. Of /his immediate descendants, some have been highly distinguished as law yers or authors. The late Chief Justice Dallas of the Common Pleas of England, belonged to the family. Alexander James Dallas, the third son of Robert Charles Dallas, and the father of the subject of this memoir, was born in the island of Jamaica, on the 21st of June, 1759. Soon after his father's return to Scotland, he was placed at an academy in the neighborhood of Lon don, under the care of the celebrated Elphinstone. While there, he attracted the notice of Dr. Samuel Johnson, also of Dr. Franklin, who occasionally visited his instructor. The death of his father, which soon occurred, interrupted his studies and clouded his prospects. Being compelled by his circumstances to provide for himself the means of support, he left the academy and enrolled his name in the Temple, as a student at law; but was soon induced, by what seemed to him, at that time an advantageous offer, to engage in a mercantile employment. He was destined, however, to another disappointment ; as, after about two years laborious service as a clerk and accountant, his employer suddenly changed his pursuits and his country. Alexander James then GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. returned to the home of his mother, where he resumed, under the direction of a private tutor, the studies which had been interrupted by his father's death. In 1780, being about twenty-one years of age, he was united in marriage to Arabella Maria Smith, a daughter of Major George Smith, of the British army. Soon after this event, he finally left England, intending to settle in the island of Jamaica ; but owing to the climate and other causes, he soon resolved, in opposition to the remonstrances of his friends, to leave the dominions of Great Britain and fix his future residence in the United States. He arrived in the city of New York, early in June, 1783. From that city he proceeded to Philadelphia, then the seat of the national government, and on the tenth day after his first landing on the shores of the United States, took the oath of allegiance to the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The war of independence had in fact closed, although the treaty of peace was not signed until the third of September following. Having acquired previously to his arrival in the United States, a sufficient knowledge of the law to commence the practice of it, and having attained the age of twenty-four years and taken the oath of allegiance to Pennsylvania, before the treaty of peace, he supposed there could be no objection to his immediate admission to the bar. The courts, however, anticipating perhaps, from the probable course of events, an inconvenient enlargement of the bar, modified their rules, a short time before his application, so as to require a residence of two years within the State, as a pre-requisite to admission. This unex pected obstacle diverted his energies for a short time to a new channel. His skill in accounts, acquired in the manner already mentioned, com mended him strongly to Mr. Jonathan Burrall, a commissioner for set tling the accounts of the Commissary and Quarter Master's Department of the revolutionary army, whose acquaintance he had casually made. An engagement -with this gentleman, while it furnished him the means of support, also afforded an opportunity of more ample preparation for the active duties of his profession. He was admitted to the bar of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania, on the 13th of July, 1785. At that time the laws of Pennsylvania were not very clearly defined ; but happily the administration of them was in the hands of men well qualified to delineate the outlines and lay the foundation of a system of jurisprudence suited to the wants ofthe people in their new political and social relations. It is scarcely possible to overrate the value of the services rendered to the people by the McKeans, the Wilsons, the Bradfords, Ingersols, Rawles, Lewis's, Tilghmans of the day and their compeers. The doctrines of the Declaration of Independence to be- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. come practical, required changes in the laws affecting the social as well as political relations. For the attainment of these objects, the virtues and abilities of such men, afforded a sufficient guaranty ; and the part which Mr. Dallas performed in this delicate and difficult labor, was in no respect inconsiderable or unimportant. Within five years after his admission to the bar, he collected and prepared for publication a volume of cases, many of which were decided before the revolution : a service to the profession, and, we may say, to the law itself at that time, which we, at this day, can scarcely appreciate. To his other duties, Mr. Dallas soon added the distracting one of politics. There were reasons at that time for connecting the study of pohtical doctrines with the profession of the law, which are not so urgent or apparent now. The great principles of free government had indeed been settled, but nothing more. From these sprung spontane ously, other questions of absorbing interest. A confederation of the states had been formed, but it was defective both in its principles and details. The great national want of that day was, " a plan of more perfect union," which should " establish justice, ensure domestic tran quillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty :" a great problem this, involving responsibilities, as vast as the national weal, and difficulties which, to be properly estimated, must be felt : so great indeed, that at this day, priceless as is the value of the Union, it would perhaps be impossible to overcome them. Besides, the constitutions of several of the states had been hastily formed : that even, which had been matured hy the philo sophical mind of Franklin, was destined to an early change. Few, if any of them, were even then, entirely satisfactory. Differences of opinion, naturally, not to say necessarily, existed. Earnest discus sion followed, tending to conclusions, commensurate in importance and value, with the pohtical institutions and constitutions in which they are embodied. Amid these events and under such dicipline, the politi cal principles of Mr. Dallas were formed. They were the convictions of a vigorous, philosophical mind, deliberately adopted, after long, earnest and thorough debate, by men of uncommon power, upon the true nature of free government and of the American Institutions, con sidered as a means of perpetuating it. His political principles were therefore exclusively of American growth, and formed by the progress of events. They inclined him decidedly and strongly to enlarge, ra ther than restrain the limits of popular rights, and at a later period, determined, what may be called his party relations. " The origin of the two permanent political parties is distinct as a GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. matter of history, and is honorable in all its incidents. It preceded organization. The principles destined to agitate governments by their collision, were enunciated, before that government existed. Power was yet unknown. There was no court to propitiate ; no club to ter rify or excite ; no treasure to covet ; ambition was vrithout an object ; avarice without a bait; servility without an idol. The substitution of republicanism for monarchy had been almost an act of unanimity. All thirsted alike for liberty and order. Hence, the subsequent ripen ing of the federal constitution was chiefly an intellectual process, during which the wise and the virtuous differed as to the means of attaining the same end, -without subjecting themselves for an instant, to the ordinary and odious imputations of intrigue, faction, interest or fear. Mind was at work, not on what then was, with countless, complicated and contradictory influences ; but on what was to be; and in advance of every selfish motive and of every conscious bias, unfriendly to purely honest patriotism, the leading statesmen of that day promulgated with uncommon ability, their respective schemes of polity, developing their differences in struggles, which must always and unavoidably precede the creation of a new system. The manifest integrity and transcend ent ability with which opposing views were maintained, inspired universal forbearance and respect ; and the very compromises made to attain some definite result, attest the existence of principles, in them selves irreconcilable. Indeed it may be said, that what was thus early yielded, has tended to give greater identity of character to both parties, as well as more precision of purpose ; and that each, in a natural and self-consistent course of action, has hitherto continued to avail itself of every opportunity to reclaim in practice, the concessions originally made in theory." We here take occasion to say, that in this light, we ought to view some of the questions of our own times, which have been unduly agi tated and not without danger to the Union : we allude to the compro mises of the constitution and questions touching its construction. They are not new questions ; nor has new light been thrown upon them, by more pure, patriotic, or philosophical minds. They were all considered, before the federal constitution was formed. They were definitely settled when that great act was adopted, and the faith ofthe states is solemnly pledged to maintain it, according to the terms and in the sense in which it was adopted. This new form of national government, went into operation on the 4th day of March, 1789, and a new constitution for Pennsylvania in 1790, within seven years after Mr, Dallas acquired the right of NATIONAL PORTRAITS. American citizenship. Li the discussions which preceded the adop tion of these two great instruments, he largely participated. In 1791, as already mentioned, he was appointed Secretary of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, under the new constitution, but without solicitation on his part. His professional and political exertions had already made him extensively known to the leading men of the nation, while his official position enlarged the circle of his personal acquaintance. Governor Mifflin was a man of revolutionary renown. He had been the first aid-de-camp of General Washington, a member of the old Congress, and for a time its president. In the city of Philadelphia, then the seat of the national and state governments, Mr. Dallas was the efficient and stirring spirit of the republican party ; acting in unison with such men as Dr. James Hutchinson, Jonathan D. Sergeant, Geo. Bryan, Peter S. Duponceau, Thomas McKean, Edward Fox, John Barclay, Thomas Lieper, J. Swanwick, and others ; to whom much more of fame and gratitude is due than has yet been awarded. Upon the election of Jefferson, Mr. Dallas was appointed Attorney of the United States, for the Eastern District of Peimsylvania. He continued in this office until October 1814, when he was appointed Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, an office at that time beset with unusual difficulties and responsibilities. His character com manded the confidence, and his official conduct the approbation of the public. About this time, the public career of George Mifflin Dallas may be said to have commenced. Conversant, from boyhood, with that circle of patriotic citizens in which his father most familiarly moved, he would naturally imbibe, from that source, even if there had been no other, impressions or views of politics, which in early manhood, could scarcely fail to ripen into principles. But these impressions and views were enforced and their bearing and importance explained by the precepts and example of one, who deserved and received from him the most profound reverence. His public life, from its commencement therefore, may be properly regarded as a carrying out, under new and diversified conditions of the country, the great principles of government which were fully settled upon, as early as the year 1801, and thence forth adopted by the democratic party. This will appear as we proceed. The occasion of Mr. Gallatin's mission to Russia, already alluded to, was the offer of the Emperor Alexander, to mediate between the United States and Great Britain. On his arrival at St. Petersburgh, he learned that Great Britain had declined the Emperor's offer. With a view to concert some other means of negociation, Mr. Dallas was GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. sent by Mr. J. Q. Adams, (our minister at that court) and Mr. Gallatin, from St. Petersburgh to London, with despatches to Count Lieven, the Russian Ambassador at the Court of St. James; the Emperor of course, concurring in the measure. The particular object in view, was to ascertain through that medium, the wishes of the British government, and should they be favorable to peace, to settle upon a time and place for adjusting its terms. The overture thus made, resulted in the designation of Ghent as the place of negociation. To that place, after a short detention in England, Mr. Dallas repaired. The commissioners on the part of the British government, were Lord Gambler, Henry Goulburn, and William Adams. On the part of the United States, Messrs. Adams, Gallatin, Bayard, Clay, and Russell. The negociation lasted a considerable time, but the details of it are foreign to our purpose. During a residence of several months, Mr. Dallas was m daily intercourse with those distinguished statesmen, and by his' position and relations to the American Commis sioners, enjoyed the best means of initiation into the mysteries of diplomacy ; — an advantage of which he made the best improvement. Suddenly, however, and somewhat unexpectedly, he was required to return to the United States, as bearer of confidential despatches of great importance. Accordingly he embarked in the frigate John Adams, which had taken out Messrs. Clay and Russell, and arrived at New York in the latter part of October, 1814. Thence proceeding without delay to Washington, he executed his commission by deliver ing the documents entrusted to him, personally into the hands of Presi dent Madison. Mr. Dallas did not return to Ghent, but in November following, was appointed Remitter of the Treasury ; an office which he held about a year and a half, when he resigned it and returned to Philadelphia, with a view to the more ordinary duties of his pro fession. Before we pass on, a word or two, illustrative of the times and of the character of President Madison, may not be unacceptable to the reader. The despatches before mentioned, consisted of the famous preliminary propositions (sine qua non,) which Great Britain, through her commissioners, insisted on as indispensable to a treaty. The British army had about two months before destroyed the Capitol, the President's House, and the public offices. Mr. Dallas found the President residing in a private dwelling ; his appearance was care-worn, and to the eye of a casual observer, would have seemed dejected. Withal he was suffering from a severe inflammation in the face, which he protected by a bandage. But the moment the despatches were put NATIONAL PORTRAITS. into his hands, he broke the seal, and at a glance comprehended their purport. Immediately his countenance lighted up and his whole man ner changed. He rose quickly from his seat, and advancing towards Mr. Dallas, remarked with great emphasis and animation, "These will do." "I hope so," replied Mr. Dallas, "for I know their con tents." " Yes, these will do," contmued the President ; " they will unite the American people, which is what we most need ; no patriotic citizen of any party, will hesitate a moment, to reject conditions so extravagant and unjust." So confident was the President of the correctness of this conclusion, that he ordered the immediate publication of these sine qua non pro positions, departing on this occasion, from the established etiquette of diplomacy pending a negociation. Their effect on the public mind ia well remembered. The life of a lawyer, unless diversified by matters beyond his pro fessional sphere, commonly contains but little to interest the general reader, yet it is undoubtedly true, that no secular employment requires a larger conception of nature, more various knowledge, or higher and more diversified intellectual endowments. A right conception of the true dignity of the bar, followed up by proper, well-directed, per severing efforts to attain it, constitute an excellent, if not the very best qualification for the vrider sphere of legislation and political science. In this way, we may, to some extent, account for the fact, that so large a proportion of our eminent statesmen commence their career at the bar. The qualifications of Mr. Dallas for either sphere of activity, were uncommonly good. He had been prepared for the practice ofthe law, by the fond industry of his father, one of the most learned, laborious, and honored members of the Philadelphia bar; not less celebrated then, than now, for the thorough preparation and trial of causes. He had imbibed too, from the same source, a theory of politics, which first found its truest representative in Mr. Jefferson. This theory he set forth, at a later day, in an admirable discourse delivered in Philadelphia, on the centennial anniversary of the birthday of that distinguished man. Gifted with intellectual powers of a high order, improved by skillful and assiduous culture, with a copious and fluent diction, a cultivated and poetical taste, a dignified and gracefiil delivery — qualities which, while they attracted strongly the attention of his fellow citizens, enforced upon him the necessity of responding to their call, upon occasions of public interest. Such occasions were not unfrequent. The stirring events of the war, the divided state of public opinion, the acrimony of GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. party spirit, and the connexion of his father with the administration of Mr. Madison, made it quite impossible, had he been so inclined, to confine his labors and pursuits to the halls of justice. Naturally, therefore, inevitably we might almost say — Mr. Dallas from the beginning of his professional career, took a prominent and very decided part in the political agitations of the country. On the 4th of July, 1815, within a twelvemonth after his return from Ghent, he delivered an oration at the invitation of his Democratic fellow citizens of the city and county of Philadelphia, in which he took occasion to review with great spirit the grounds of controversy between the United States and Great Britain, and to vindicate the policy and measures of our government. This was his first public appearance, so far as we can learn, in the arena of party politics. The effort attracted more generally and strongly, the favorable regard of the Democratic party towards him ; which was not without advantage in the way of hig profession. He was appointed the first Solicitor of the Bank of the United States, established by Act of Congress in 1816, which, considering the national character and the magnitude of the institution, was justly deemed an office of great importance. The policy of a National Bank, as a permanent institution, had not at that time been sufficiently considered; yet, as a temporary expedient against the extraordinary urgencies of the times, or, so to speak, as a post war measure, it was regarded -with a degree of favor, and re ceived a support from the Democratic party, which was afterwards withdrawn. In 1817, Mr. Dallas was appointed by the Attorney General, his representative in the City and County of Philadelphia. During the same year, he appeared as counsel, at the request of Governor Findlay, on his behalf, before the celebrated Committee of Inquiry. In the management of this affair, he displayed a degree of ability, which amply compensated for any lack of experience. The result fully justi fied the confidence reposed in one so young. These, however, are minor topics'. Passing without note, several years of Mr. Dallas' professional life, to the year 1824, near the close of Mr. Monroe's administration, we find him once more conspicuously active in pro moting the election of General Jackson. Although he greatly admired the statesmanship and signal abihties of Mr. Calhoun, who had been nominated in several quarters for the office of President of the United States, yet, with a view to unite the whole Democratic party, he yielded Ids preference for the distinguished Carolinian, and with that gentleman's knowledge and assent, at a public meeting held in the NATIONAL PORTRAITS, city of Philadelphia, withdrew his name for that office, and proposed him as the candidate of Pennsylvania, for the office of Vice-President. This movement was enthusiastically seconded throughout the Union. Mr. Calhoun was elected to the office of Vice-President. General Jackson received only ninety-nine of the electoral votes — one hundred and thirty-one being necessary to a choice — yet fifteen more than Mr. J. Q. Adams received, and fifty-eight more than the number cast for Mr. Crawford. The election of Mr. Adams by the House of Representatives, under these circumstances, gave occasion to a new and more decided expres sion of the popular sentiment ; perhaps we should say, of the popular principle of our government. The disregard sho-wn by the act, to the wishes of the greater number, naturally aroused the popular mind. Earnest discussions followed, in which Mr. Dallas took a prominent and decided part. The conclusions of the' country on the whole mat ter," were expressed at the election of 1828, when Mr. Adams received eighty-three only of the electoral votes, and General Jackson one hundred and seventy-eight. To this result, the exertions of Mr. Dallas, particularly within his own State, largely contributed. The same year, Mr. Dallas was elected to the office of Mayor of the city of Philadelphia, an office, which of late years, has seldom been held by any citizen belonging to the same political party ; but worthy of note, in this place, chiefly as an evidence of the enthusiasm and union of the party, produced, in no small degree, hy his exertions during the Presidential canvass. This office he resigned in a short time, upon his appointment as Attorney of the United States for. the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. In 1831, Mr. Dallas was elected by the Legislature of Pennsylva nia, to the Senate of the United States, to him a new sphere, and by its more ample scope, better suited to the exercise of his talents and diversified attainments. ¦ The limits of so brief an article do not allow us to follow him, with much minuteness of incident in that dignified body. He participated frequently, and with marked ability, in debates on important questions, and on several exciting occasions, with singular effect, faithfully ob serving the instructions of the State he represented, whenever given. Thus, in obedience to repeated instructions of the Legislature of Penn sylvania, he supported the re-charter of the Bank of the United States, and a protective tariff; feehng himself in duty and conscience bound, whatever might be his private judgment, faithfully to represent his constituency. The same principle of action, he afterwards illustrated 10 GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. in another capacity, upon a memorable occasion which will be particu larly noticed, yet not independently of other considerations of equal if not paramount importance. His speech on apportioning the mem bers of congress under the census of 1830, in opposition to a movement of Mr. Webster, was much spoken of at the time. It was a speech of great power, and produced the designed and desired effect. He also defended, in a speech of great eloquence and force, his personal friend, the late Edward Livingston, when that gentleman was nomi nated to the Senate by President Jackson, for the office of Secretary of- State. The confirmation was strongly opposed both by Mr. Clay and Mr. Webster ; but when Mr. Dallas resumed his seat, these gentlemen — and it is due to their memory to mention the fact — promptly and magnanimously -withdrew their opposition. About this time, the personal relations of Mr. Dallas -with President Jackson, became intimate and confidential ; it was his happiness to enjoy the friendship of that distinguished man -with unabated warmth, until his death. The senatorial term of Mr. Dallas expired on the 3rd of March, 1833. He peremptorily declined a reelection, and immediately returned to his profession. Governor Wolf then tendered to him the office of Attorney General of the Commonwealth, and the office being conge nial with his pursuits, he accepted and retained it, until the close of the administration of that excellent Chief Magistrate. But another sphere of public service awaited him. In 1837 Presi dent Van Buren offered him a mission to the Court of St. Petersburgh, which (as before mentioned) he had visited in 1813, during the reign of Alexander. A better selection could not have been made to repre sent such a government as ours, at the Court of the Czar. His republican simplicity blended with personal dignity and elegance of manners required^no adventitious aid on public occasions^, to bar disparagement to himself or to his country. It is well known that this is the most splendid of the Courts of Europe. Magnificence, pomp, and the awe they inspire, seem to be regarded almost as a necessary means of government ; and a departure from the established ceremonial, by an Ambassador, would be a singularity which could not fail to be generally remarked. But Mr. Dallas, although moving amidst most gorgeous displays, during his residence at St. Petersburgh, never compromised upon any occasion the true dignity of an American citizen by an unnecessary departure from the simple habits and cos tume of his country. On the contrary, he scrupulously adhered to them whenever, and so far as was compatible with due respect to the VOL. IV.— 20 11 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Emperor; and by this means, on more than one occasion, elicited unusual acts of courtesy frbm the monarch. The amicable relations, which then (and indeed^ ever have) subsisted between the two countries, gave little opportunity for the exercise of diplomatic skill. Yet, while ever watchful for the interests and dignity of his country, he had it in his power on several occasions materially to subserve the interests of Americans. In 1839 he was recalled from this mission at his own request. Soon after his return to Philadelphia, the office of Attorney General of the United States (having become vacant, by the death of Mr. Grundy) was offered to him, by the President, For personal reasons, however, he declined it, and again resumed the practice of the law, mingling unostentatiously and quietly with his fellow citizens as before, in the walks of private ahd professional life ; but he was not allowed to remain long in seclusion. In 1844 he was nominated by the Demo cratic party for the office of Vice-President of the United States, and in December of that year was elected to that high station. Before we proceed to this part of the pubhc life of Mr. Dallas, we crave indulgence for a few general observations which may seem quite common-place to the reader ; yet, are important to be borne in mind by him, as he proceeds. The office of Vice-President of the United States, as it was conceived of by the framers of the Constitution, did not differ in its nature from the office of President, As that instru ment was originally adopted, a Vice-President might be aptly described, as the second of two Presidents concurrently elected to one and the same office : — the priority of actual incumbency between them, being determined by the relative number of electoral ballots cast for each. Considered however as a distinct office, under the Constitution as amended in 1803, the Vice-President belongs exclusively to the executive branch of the government. It is true, by a special provision of the Constitution (even as originally adopted) the Vice-President presides over the senate, during the abeyance of his executive func tions; yet without the power to participate in the debates of that body or to vote, except in the single case of an equal division of the Senators : — a case not likely to occur, except on doubtful or difficult questions, or such as involve controverted principles of public policy. This limitation of the power of the Vice-President, when thus acting, o what may be called the case of necessity, carries with it, by impli cation, a correlative and coordinate limitation upon the power of the Senators, individually and collectively, which although difficult to he enforced by Parliamentary means — owing to the nature of delibera- is GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. tive functions — nevertheless, cannot be disregarded, -without a violation of the spirit of the Constitution. We mean, in brief, that Senators cannot rightfully, at pleasure, evoke the vote of the Vice-President by means of a factitious tie. The power, ifself, if not anomalous, is very peculiar. When exercised to enact a bill into a law, it mixes Executive with Legislative power, which the Constitution intends as far as possible, shall be kept distinct. When exercised inthe ri,egative upon questions exclusively within the cognizance of the Senate or upon bills which have passed the House of Representatives, it is in some respects comparable to the so-called Veto power of the President. It may have even a wider reach ; for it may be exercised to defeat a bill of the House, founded upon the recommendation of the President ; and thus produce an actual collision between executive powers, (Art. I. Sect. III. § 4: Art. II. Sect. III.)^a result, which the framers ofthe Constitution certainly could not have intended or even foreseen. No inconvenience, however, has ever arisen from this provision of the Constitution, or the actual exercise of the power thereby conferred. Thus far, it has always been lodged in the hands of wise and patriotic man ; who, for the most part, have decidedly concurred in the policy and leading measures of the administrations, with which they were respectively connected. Indeed no case has yet arisen for its exercise, which could have led to any serious embarrassment, ff we except one, which will presently be noticed, Of the ability of Mr. Dallas as a presiding officer, it is sufficient to say, that among the many distinguished Presidents of that august body, none has ever enjoyed in a larger measure, the respect and confidence of its members; or imparted by his presence and official decorum, greater dignity to their deliberations. The most imposing scene which occurred during his Presidency, was witnessed in July, 1846, upon the final passage of the tariff act of that year. On that occasion, to employ the language ofthe author ofthe his- tory.of the Polk administration " he had an opportunity of illustrating his moral firmness of character, by an act of bold and majestic grandeur, which stamped him as one of the distinguished men of the age." This bill passed the House of Representatives on the 3d of July, 1846, by a vote of 114 to 95. It had been drawn in accordance with the re commendations of the President, and embodied principles which entered deeply into the Presidential canvass of 1844, in all parts of the country. When this bill was submitted to the final vote of the Senate, it ap peared, that the Senators of eleven ol" the States were in favor of it ; the Senators of eleven other of the States were opposed to it, while 13 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. those of each of the remaining States, eight in number, were divided. Thus the bill was put in the power of the Vice-President, whose opinions, upon the particular provisions it contained,' were, up to that moment, not certainly known. This circumstance alone, was calcu lated to add much to the interest already unusually great. Those who feared that local interests and feehngs would imperceptibly bias the vote of the Vice-President, were indignant, that a great measure, founded upon a comprehensive view of the diversified interests of the Union, should be brought into peril, by the resignation of one of the Senators, and the refusal of another to vote for the bill, in obedience to the instructions of the State he represented. The suspense was, however, soon terminated. The Vice-President cast his vote in the affirmative, and the bill became a law. Before proceeding to decide this most important question, he ad dressed the Senate in a brief but well considered speech, explanatory of the act he was about to perform. This was due to himself and to the country. "The scene," says the author just quoted, "was one of the most imposing that ever occurred in that chamber. The Repre sentative Hall was almost deserted ; the members crowded into the Senate, to witness the termination of the struggle. The galleries were crowded with beauty and fashion. The manufacturers were assembled in strong force — the Reporters bent eagerly fiirward to catch the words which fell from his lips. A solemn silence reigned. All eyes were turned on his commanding and expressive countenance, and each ear drank in the language of his celebrated address ; which he pronounced with an earnestness and impressiveness of tone, which proved his sincerity." To do justice to the occasion, as well as to the chief actor, we ought in this place to spread the address at length before the reader, but the limits allotted to this article, do not allow it ; and we are constrained to refer him to the history of the times. It would not, perhaps, be extravagant to say, that never, at any other period, since the foun dation of the American Union, have so important and diversified inte rests been poised upon a single vote. It changed at a breath a policy which had prevailed more than thirty years — a policy unequal in its operation, both upon States and individuals, and for that reason fraught with danger. It established a revenue system more productive to the National Treasury ; Jess burthensome to the consumer ; admit- thig of all necessary and just discriminations ; yet bearing as lightly and equally as possible on every branch of industry, in all parts of the country. GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. There can be no reasonable doubt, that the influence of this change, by bringing the policy of the national government into closer harmony with the spirit of the constitution, has contributed to the greater solidity and strength of the Union. That such an act should have offended any class or portion of our patriotic citizens, (if not surprising, owing to the tenacity with which men hold to their private interests,) can be accounted for only by inadequate views of the principles of the constitutional compact, or of the value of the Union, or the means in dispensable to its continuance. The dissatisfaction caused by this act of the Vice-President, was limited in extent, and ephemeral in duration. Experience, the great corrector of feeling, as well as of opinion, has set the seal of wisdom to the measure, and the increasing prosperity of the country, under the operation of the law, will add increasing strength to that code of political doctrines, of which Mr. Dallas has ever been a zealous and powerful advocate. During his Vice-Presidency, Mr, Dallas prepared and published a letter on the project of a canal, from the southernmost part of the Gulf of Mexico, to the Tehuantepec Gulf on the Pacific shore ; in which he discussed the whole subject of connecting the oceans through the Isthmus, and the practicability and peculiar advantages of the project mentioned, to the United States, The letter had the effect of drawing extensively public attention to the matter. The President was deeply impressed with the importance of the subject ; took it into consideration, and gave instructions, which, had they been duly observed, would have resulted in the acquisition by treaty, of a right for the transit of the vast and increasing commerce of the United States, by the way which nature seems to have designed. In this production of his pen, as in many ethers, it is easy to discern the opinions of Mr, Dallas, upon the expansive power of the American institutions, and their capability of adaptation through a progressive and natural development, to the full extent of their destined area. At the close of his term of office, on the 4th of March, 1849, Mr. Dallas returned to Philadelphia, and devoted himself with renewed zeal to the practice of his profession for nearly seven years. On the 31st of January, 1856, he was nominated by the President (Franklin Pierce) to the Senate as Minister to England, and, by that body, was unanimously confirmed. He arrived in England with his family on the 13th of March, 1856, and had scarcely entered upon the duties of the Legation, when the Government of the United States dismissed the Enghsh Minister at Washington for enlisting men in 15 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the United States to serve in the war between England and Russia, This energetic proceeding produced in England a strong feeling of hostility, and threatened to interrupt the intercourse between the two countries. Great confidence was felt at this critical juncture that the calm and conciliating address of Mr. Dallas would go far to keep the peace, while his well known firmness gave assurance that the justice of Mr. Crampton's dismissal would be maintained throughout. For some months it was doubtful whether the British ministry would or would not retaliate, and a town near Paris was chosen as a retreat for the Legation. The threatening appearances, however, passed gradua-lly away, and Mr. Dallas, for a period of five years and three months, represented the interests of the United States at the Court of St. James, with how much skill, energy, and untiring industry, the records of the Legation will attest. On the 4th of July, 1858, at a commemorative meeting of the Americans in London^ Mr. Dallas had the proud satisfaction of announcing that Great Britain had formally and forever surren dered the right of visiting and searching American vessels on the high seas ; a right, prior to that time, constantly asserted and acted upon, as constantly protested against, and always a never-failing source of irritation, complaint, and danger to the peace of the two nations. Mr. Dallas himself says, that obtaining this surrender " is my practical homage to my father's ' Exposition of the Causes and Character ofthe War o/1812,' and finally closes the grievance of impressment and search, against which that unequalled produc tion was directed.' The great civil war was now at hand. Mr. Lincoln was elected President of the United States, and the first gun was fired. , As to the course he should pursue — Mr. Dallas never for a moment doubted. He had been abroad too often and too long not to feel that wherever was the flag, there was his duty, there was his home. On the appointment of Mr. Adams as his successor, he returned to the United States, and was cordially welcomed. He arrived in Philadelphia on the 1st of June, 1861 ; and very shortly after his arrival, at an informal meeting of his fellow-citizens, he delivered an address, from which the following extract is taken : " Let me re mind you that the present fitful and fierce effort to substitute another, comparatively unknown and local, for this world-wide famous banner, is not the first that has been made. The reserved right to nullify your laws, and at discretion to break up your Gov ernment, as a cob-web contrivance of mere State partnership^ per- 16 GEORGE MIFFLIN DALLAS. haps meditated at Hartford in 1814, was certainly and formally claimed by South Carolina in 1832. At that epoch, there were giants in debate ; and no giant more formidable or dangerous than the author of this subversive doctrine. But, gentlemen, it was over ruled as perverse and untenable. The calm senators from this good old Commonwealth, who were William Wilkins, of Pittsburg, and myself, steadily insisted upon hoisting the ' Stars and Stripes ' high above the ' Palmetto,' and I presume would do so still ; and the renowned citizen of Tennessee, who had routed the invaders at New Orleans, dispelled by the mere show of a ' Force Bill ' the delusive Quixotism which was as brave and blind then as it is now. Nor am I aware that this decision of Congress has ever undergone revision and reversal. It stands on the records of the nation as a great judgment upon a great question utterly incapable of farther eluci dation by the wit of man ; it is against nullification, which, you must be aware, is but fragmentary, subdivided, or bit-by-bit seces sion ; both built upon the same false keel ; and it points with an emphasis, too peremptory to be disregarded, to the course of duty which the official guardians of your Constitution, Laws, and Liber ties are bound to pursue." On the 22d of February following he -was chosen to deliver an address on the adoption of the Constitution of the United States. This took place in Independence Square, and was the occasion of a great civic and military display. Mr. Dallas died very suddenly on the morning of the 31st of December, 1864, in the 73d year of his age. His remains are de posited in the family vault, in St. Peter's church-yard in Philadel phia, near the graves of his father, his mother, his brother. Com modore Dallas, and his eldest son, who died at the age of nine years. In private life, Mr. Dallas was easy of access, and courteous to the humblest of his fellow-citizens. Although few men have been distinguished by so many high official trusts, still fewer have borne their honors with so much republican simplicity ; or, at their exit from office, assumed more readily, or w^ith better grace, the unaf fected deportment of the private citizen. Although his professional career was so much interrupted by public cares, he ranked as a lawyer with the most eminent of the profession. As an advocate, he was graceful, dignified, and uncommonly effective. Withal, he found occasional opportunities to indulge in literary pursuits, a taste which he seemed to have inherited. We might here refer to NATIONAL PORTRAITS. his published orations and addresses, as the productions of finished scholarship ; but we prefer closing this article, by transcribing a poetical effusion, illustrative of a trait of his character not yet noticed. To some of our readers it will not be new, as it appeared a few years ago in a morning paper of Philadelphia, Yet those who best know Mr. Dallas, will not easily believe that it was written for any eye, beyond the domestic circle of which it was his highest earthly happiness to be the beloved and revered head. TO MY WIFE. SBKT WITH MY PORTEAIT ON THE TWENTY-EIGHTH ANNI-yEESABY OP MY WEDDING I>«< 1. By truthflil Sully sketched, how plaia appears The change produced, by eight and twenty years < Sophia ! mark that dimming eye ; The rigid brow of care ; The fallen cheek's ungenial dye ; Those folds of whitened hair. How well in unison they chime The triumph of remorseless Time ! 2. The outward casket these — whose depths enclose A Gem which never flaw nor fading knows : ¦What if old age, invite decay, And form and feature wane, jT^st Gem, though all its case give way, -Will sparkling: still remain, Within enshrined from changing free, Undying glows the Love of Thee ! 3. Harmless and vain, Time's breakers seem to roll O'er that one treasure, seated in the soul ! The gift that youthful fondness gave With cloudless heart and brow, Though age hath made me gray and grave, That gift I give thee now ; Myself with equal faith bestow, As eight and twenty years ago ! 18 I).\N-U-.]. 1), rO.MPKlXS DANIEL D. TOMPKINS. It is a pleasing task to sketch the life of such a man as Daniel D. Tompkins, and a proud one to a citizen of the great state which had the honor of giving him birth. It may be compared to a land scape, such as the eye delights to rest upon ; not one of abrupt transitions from mountain to ravine, from "antres vast" to "deserts idle," but an open, expanded, and unbroken scene of refreshing and unfading verdure. And if the pleasure of contemplating it be not unmingled, it is because the sombre clouds of adversity began at length to hover round and darken its brilliant horizon. Governor Tompkins seemed to imbody within himself the peculiar characteristics of the citizens of his native state — activity, energy,- and perseverance ; and his talents, as constantly and ypriously as they were tried, were always found equal to any emergency. At the bar in the city of New York, during the early period qf his. life, he sustained an honorable rank ; on the bench of the supreme cCurt; of the state, amid the bright constellation of judicial talent, learning, and eloquence, which then adorned it, he was conspicuously distin guished, while yet in comparative youth ; and we venture to say, that no judge, since the formation of our government, ever presided at nisi prius, or travelled the circuit with more popularity. Dignified in his person, graceful and conciliating in his address, and thoroughly amiable in his character, he won the respect and confidence of the bar, and the admiration of the public. He was not o.ne of those-r-for such have been — who "bullied at the bar, and dogmatized on the bench;" he was a man of warm and kindly feelings, and disdained to avail himself of the accident of official station, to browbeat or insult his inferiors. The distinction which he gained in his judicial capacity, soon elevated him to a different theatre of action, the gubernatorial chair of his native state. He was put forward as a candidate by the most infiuential of the republicans of that day ; and in the mode in which he administered the government, he did not disappoint their choice. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Those were turbulent times in politics ; but, like a skilful pilot, he safely and triumphantly weathered the storm — not only that which was raging within our o-wn bounds and among ourselves, but a more fearful one which was pouring in upon us from a foreign foe. By his unwearied efforts, in repeatedly pressing the subject upon the attention of the legislature, slavery was finally abolished in the state of New York. In a message addressed to the legislature in 1812, he says, " The revision of our code of laws will furnish you with oppor tunities of making many beneficial improvements, — to devise the means for the gradual and ultimate extermination from among us of slavery, that reproach of a free people, is a work worthy of the representatives of a polished and enlightened nation;" and in 1817, he again submitted to the legislature, "whether the dictates of hu manity, the reputation of the state, and a just sense of gratitude to THE Almighty for the many favors he has conferred on us as a nation, do not demand that the reproach of slavery be expunged from our statute-book." The subject of public education and morals was always near his heart ; and thus he invites to it the attention of the legislature, in one of his messages: "As the guardians of the prosperity, liberty, and morals of the state, we are bound by every injunction of patriotism and wisdom, to endow to the utmost of our resources, schools and seminaries of learning, to patronise public improvements, and to cherish all institutions for the diffusion of religious knowledge, and for the promotion of virtue and piety." How noble are such sentiments, and how different from the maxims of despots, who for the most part govern the world ! Here is not recommended endowments for splendid seats of learning, for the instruction of a privileged class ; to propagate and maintain an exclusive creed, or to uphold some corrupt establishment to make the rich richer and more powerful, and the poor poorer and more debased; to use the mind, the immortal part of our nature, as an instrument to be moulded and fashioned so as to subserve the selfish purposes of a^ lordly few; but, with a philanthropy without limit, it is pressed upon the legislature to cherish and promote all institutions for the difiiision of knowledge, virtue, and piety. When a chief magistrate speaks thus to his people, be they his masters or his servants, we may con sider that governments are not always given to us as a "curse for our vices." The benevolent feelings of Governor Tompkins prompted him to call the attention of the legislature, on repeated occasions, to the a DANIEL D. TOMPKINS. abolition of corporeal and capital punishments ; and he at length happily effected that of the former : the latter still remain. So early as 1811, we find him raising his voice in favor of the encouragement of manufactures. "Let us extend to them,", he says, "the utmost encouragement and protection which our finances will admit, and we shall soon convince the belligerents of Europe, to whom we have been extensive and profitable customers, that their mad and unjust policy towards us will ultimately recoil upon them selves, by giving to our industry, our resources, and our policy, a new direction, calculated to render us really independent." He makes the question one of love of country and honorable pride, and does not even hint at any sordid calculation of profit. If he erred as a political economist, and in this respect there are those who will doubt, he at least manifested the generous purpose of a patriot. In this brief sketch, it is not to be expected that even all the most prominent measures of Governor Tompkins' administration can be noticed; but there is one which must not be passed over in silence — we mean his prorogation of the senate and assembly of the state in 1812; and in reference we will briefly remark, in the language of another, " The legislature had lent a favorable ear' to the petitions of various banking companies for incorporation ; and a system had been projected and fostered by bribery and corruption, which threat ened irreparable evils to the community. In his communication to the legislature, the governor dwelt upon this subject with peculiar force, and clearly and ably pointed out the inexpediency and danger of multiplying banking institutions ; but such had been the gigantic strides of corruption, that the pernicious law would have been en acted, had not the governor exerted his constitutional privilege of proroguing the legislature." The anathemas of party animosity came thick and heavy upon him, in consequence of this measure, which, although strictly consti tutional, was stigmatized as arbitrary and despotic ; but he breasted himself to the shock, and triumphed in the support of pubhc opinion. Here he displayed, in a conspicuous manner, that moral energy of character which we have attributed to him, and crushed the hydra of corruption, which was beginning to rear itself in the sacred halls of legislation. " The measure," says the writer above quoted, " excited the astonisment and admiration of the whole United States." We come now to the part which he bore in our late war with Great Britain, which embraces a most interesting period of his life^. Whenever the history of that war shall be written for posterity, his NATIONAL PORTRAITS. name will fill an ample space in it. As governor of the state of New York, he had the direction of all her energies; and many and ardii- ous were the duties which he was called upon to perform. But those who were conversant with the scenes of that period, will recollect the universal confidence which he inspired in every lover of his country. The following letter, dated a few days after the declaration of war, will show the -perilous situation of the state of New York at that time, the condition of the army, and the responsibility he assumed to meet the exigency. "Albany, June 28, 1812, " To Major General Dearborn, "Sir, — Your letter of the 23d inst. has been received. I had anticipated your request, by ordering the detachments from Washing ton, Essex, Clinton, and Franklin counties into service, and have fixed the days and places of their rendezvous. Upon application to the quarter-master general, I find there are but 139 tents arid 60 camp- kettles at this place, and even those I take by a kind of stealth. The deputy quarter-master general declines giving an order for their dehvery, until he shall have a written order from the quarter-master general, and the latter is willing I shall take them, but wUl not give the deputy a written order for that purpose. Under such circum stances, I shall then avail myself of the rule of possession, and by virtue of the eleven points of the law, send them off to-morrow morning, without a -written order from any one. You may remem ber, that when you were secretary of the war department, I invited you to forward and deposit in our frontier arsenals, arms, ammuni tion, and camp equipage, free of expense, to be ready for defence in case of war ; and the same invitation to the war department has been repeated four times since. The United States have now from five to six hundred regular troops at Plattsburgh, Rome, Canandaigua, &c., where those arsenals are ; and yet those recruits are now, and must be for weeks to come, unarmed, and in every respect unequipped, although within musket shot of arsenals. The recruits at Platts burgh are within fifty miles of two tribes of Canadian Indians. In case of an attack upon the frontiers, that portion of the United States army would be as inefficient, and as unable to defend the inhabitants, or themselves even, as so many women. As to cannon, muskets, and ammunition, I can find no one here wno wul exercise any authority over them, or deliver a single article upon my requisition DANIEL D. TOMPKINS. Neither can I find any officer of the army who feels himself author ized to exercise any authority, or do any act which will aid me in the all-important object of protecting the inhabitants of our extended frontier, exposed to the cruelties of savages and the depredation of the enemy. If I must rely upon the militia solely for such protec tion, I entreat you to give orders to your officers here to furnish upon my order, for the use of the militia detachments, all needful weapons and articles with which the United States are furnished, and of which we are destitute. " You may rely upon all the assistance which my talents, influence, and authority can furnish, in the active prosecution of the just and necessary war which has been declared by the constituted authority of our beloved country." From the day of the declaration of war, the. governor entered heart and soul into the prosecution of it, and so continued until its close. Most of the frontier troops, the first campaign, were mihtia, and many of them were marched several hundred miles. The quarter master general of that day refused to make any advances to them. The governor was ther.efore placed in the dilemma of providing as well as he could for their expenses of every kind, or of permitting them to return home for the want of accommodation, disgusted both with the war and the government. He issued orders for raising a brigade of volunteers upon his own responsibility, which greatly distinguished itself on our Niagara frontier, and particu larly at the memorable sortie from Fort Erie. The officers were all selected by Governor Tompkins, and their gallant conduct in the .field showed his admirable discrimination in this respect. He had previously recommended to the legislature to raise volunteer regiments for the defence of our frontiers and the city of New York, but by a perversity which seems strange to us at the present day, his patriotic recommendation was rejected. A man of less firmness than Governor Tompkins would have quailed beneath the storm which was raised against him in Albany in the winter of 1813-14; and the consequence would probably have been, that the state would have been overrun by the foe. Not only was the whole western frontier in danger of invasion, but Sackett's Harbor, Platts burgh, and the city of New York. But, regardless of censure or disapprobation, he called into the field large bodies of militia, and organized a corps of sea fencibles for the protection of the city of New York, consisting of 1000 men. In September, 1814, the militia NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in service for the defence of the city amounted to 17,500 men. He was even ready to despatch a force, under the lamented Decatur, for the assistance of Baltimore, which was then menaced with an attack ; and had not the news of the enemy's retreat been received, the suc cor would have been upon their march to the relief of a sister state. In 1814, from information received, and corroborated by the move ments of the enemy, there are sufficient grounds of belief that one great object of his campaign was to penetrate with his northern army by the waters of Lake Champlain and the Hudson, and by a simulta neous attack with his maritime forces on New York, to form a junc tion which should sever the communication . of the states. The exigency of the time, while it subjected the executive to great respon sibility, admitted of no delay. To defeat this arrogant design, and save the state from inroad, it was necessary immediately to exercise fuller powers and more ample resources than had been placed in his hands by the legislature. He proceeded, therefore, to make such dispositions as were deemed indispensable to secure the exposed points against menaced invasion. To effect these objects, he found it necessary to transcend the authority and means vested in him by law, perfectly satisfied that the legislature would approve and sanction what he had done. In October of this year. Governor Tompkins was appointed by the president to the command of the third military district. He acquitted himself of the command with great ability, and, on the disbanding of the troops, he received from every quarter letters of compliment and gratitude ; and this was the only recompense for his services in this command which he ever obtained. During the fall of this year, the general government was desiroua of fitting out an expedition to dislodge the enemy from Castine, in the then province of Maine. They' had applied to the governor of Mas sachusetts to raise the necessary funds for this purpose; but without effect. In this dilemma, the situation of the general government was hinted to Governor Tompkins, who, with his individual credit, and upon his own responsibility, immediately raised the sum of tliree hundred thousand dollars, which he placed at the orders of General Dearborn, thdn commanding in Massachusetts. This noble act of {latriotism speaks for itself, and comment would be superfluous. In looking over his military correspondence, it is surprising to see how watchful he was to foster a delicate and punctilious regard to the relative rank of the ofiicers of the militia, so as to preclude every cause of jealousy or complaint. The officers were appointed by the DANIEL D. TOMPKINS. council of appointment, which in the winter of 1813-14 was together with one branch of the legislature, opposed to the adminis tration of the general government and to the prosecution of the war ; and it is evident, from his correspondence at this period, that attempts were constantly made to create discontents, by the recommending of persons for promotion over the heads of those who were entitled to it by their previous military rank ; and in turning back to his private correspondence from 1808 to 1811, we are struck with the continual annoyance experienced by him from the intrigues and slanders of political opponents, and at the same time with the inde fatigable industry and noble frankness with which he counteracted and exposed them. In the fall of 1814, Mr. Monroe having just been appointed secre tary of war. President Madison requested permission to name Gov ernor Tompkins to the senate as his successor. This offer of what is considered the highest office in the gift of the president of the United States, was declined. In the spring of 1815, after peace had been proclaimed, he resigned the command of the third military district ; and the president ad dressed to him a letter of thanks, for his " patriotic, active, and able support given to the government during the war." In February 1817, having received official information of his elec tion to the office of vice president of the United States, he surrendered that of chief magistrate of the state of New York. Daniel D. Tompkins was born on the 21st of June, 1774, at Scarsdale, (Fox Meadows,) in the county of Westchester, N. Y. He was the seventh son of Jonathan G. Tompkins, one of the only three individuals of the town who advocated the cause of their coun try during the revolution. His ancestors had emigrated originally from the north of England during the time of religious persecution in that country, and landed at Plymouth, in the then colony of Mas sachusetts. After remaining there a short time, they purchased a tract of land in Westchester county, where they permanently settled. The father of the governor was a member of the state convention which adopted the declaration of independence and the first con stitution of the state. He was a member of the legislature during the whole period of the revolution, also for many years first judge of the court of common pleas for the county ; and on the institution of the university of the state, was appointed one of the regents, which situation he held until his resignation of it in 1808. He died after seeing his son elevated to the second office in the gift of his country NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Governor Tompkins was educated at Columbia college, in the city of New York, and received the first honors of his class. He was admitted to the bar in 1797; in 1801 was elected a representative of the city in the convention to revise the constitution of the state ; in 1802 was chosen to the state legislature ; and in 1804 was appointed a judge in the supreme court of the state, to supply the vacancy occasioned by the election of Chief Justice Lewis to the gubernatorial chair. In the same year he was elected a member of congress for the city, as a colleague of the late learned Dr. Mitchill. In 1807, when not thirty-three years of age, he was elevated to the chief magistracy of the state. He was also chancellor of the university; and in June, 1820, was elected grand master of masons in the state of New York. In 1821, he was chosen a delegate from the county of Richmond to the convention for framing a new constitution for the state ; and he was afterwards appointed president of this body. This was the last public situation which he held. We still fondly tum our recollections towards him, as one of the most amiable, benevolent, and true-hearted men that ever lived. He bore the stamp of this feeling of kindliness towards his fellow-men in his open and frank countenance, in his easy and unaffected address, in the very tones of his voice, in his every-day intercourse with society. Upon every subject that comes home to "men's business and bosoms," his opinions were liberal and expanded; exclusiveness or dogmatism formed no. part of his moral creed. He found, as all have found or will find who aspire to raise them selves above the level of their fellow-men, that envy tracked his footsteps, and calumny was always at hand to endeavor to throw a shade over his fame ; and we regret to say that, during the close of his career, he suffered from pecuniary embarrassments, resulting fropi his multifarious services and expenditures, and assumed respon sibilities during the war, and from — what must not be disguised — the' tardy justice of the government. He came out of this ordeal, however, completely triumphant; but our limits forbid our entering into details. We merely add the date of his decease, which melancholy event happened on the 11th of June, 1825, on Staten Island; but his remains are interred in the family vault, at St. Mark's church, in the city of New York. * Psdn-Lea. hy- O. Z Fri^-rv j1 B r.jrazL^ '^/wmL'mjmMi ®£^'g>'i^(S)^c /f7^^ £ '^ii>£^F^^z^ WILLIAM G A S T 0 N, LL. D. The name of Gaston is honorably associated in the annals of France, where the ancestors of the subject of this notice were zeal ous and distinguished adherents of the Huguenot cause, in the latter part of the seventeenth century. On the revocation of the edict of Naritz, thfey retired to Ballymore in Ireland, where Dr. Alexander Gaston, the father of the judge, was born. He was the yoUnget brother of the Rev. Hugh Gaston, a presbyterian clergym,an of great piety and learning, and the author of "Gaston's Concordance," a standard work in his church. Dr. Alexander Gaston was graduated at the medical college in Edinburgh, after which he accepted the appointment of surgeon in the na-vy, and attended the expedition which captured the Havana. The epidemic dysentery which pre vailed with so much fatality among the troops, assailed even the surgeon ; and \vith a constitution broken by disease, and daily wear ing away fi-om the exhaustion of a warm climate, he resigned his post and sailed for the North American provinces. He landed in Newbern, and after a residence of some years, during which he was engaged in the practice of his profession, was married, in May, 1775, to Margaret Sharpe, an English lady of the Catholic church. She had come out to North Carolina, on a visit to her t-wo brothers, Girard and Joseph Sharpe, who were extensi-vely engagfe'd in Com merce, and it was during this sojourn, that the gallantry of the young Irish physician, succeeded in permeillehtly detaining heir in Newbern. William Gaston, their secoiid son, was bom on the 19th of September, 1778. His elder brother died very sbon after he was born, and before he was three years old, the accidents of war carried off his father. The circumstances of the death of Dr. Alexander Gaston are too tragical and interesting to be omitted, and as they stroUgly illustrate the ferocity of the intestine war, that was waged between the whigs ahd tories of the south, we shall venture to detail them somewhat at length. Dr. Gaston was one of the most decided whigs in North Carolina, and as early as the month of August, 1775, was NATIONAL PORTRAITS. elected, by the provincial congress, a member of the committee of safety, for the district of Newbern. At various periods of the war he served in the army, generally as a surgeon, and once (in the spring of 1776) as captain of a volunteer band, that marched to the aid of Wilmington, on the approach of the armament of Sir Henry Clinton. By his zealous and ardent support of the cause of freedom, he acquired the confidence of the popular authorities, and was dis tinguished by the bitter hatred of the loyalists, who, though in a minority, were still numerous in that section of the state. In the month of August, 1781, Major Craig, of the British army, whose head-quarters were at Wilmington, advanced at the head of a small detachment of regular troops, and a gang of tories, towards Newbern, with a view of occupying that city. The tories were several miles in the advance, and rapidly entered the town on the 20th of August. The whigs, thus surprised, had but little opportu nity to make a regular stand, and after an ineffectual resistance gave up the contest. Dr. Gaston, however, knew too well the hatred and ferocity of his foes, to surrender himself into their hands, and hurrj ing off his wife and children, endeavored to escape across the river Trent, and thus retire to his plantation on Bryce's creek. He reached the wharf, accompanied by his family, but before he could embark them in the light scow which he had seized, the tories in a body came galloping down, in their eager and bloody pursuit, and forced hira to push off in the stream, leaving his wife and children unprotected on the shore. He was standing erect in the boat, which floated about forty yards from the shore, watching the situation of his wife, and while she, at the feet of his pursuers, with all the agony of anticipated bereavement, was imploring mercy for herself and life for her husband, a musket, levehed over her shoulder, was discharged and the victim sacrificed. ^ Mrs. Gaston was thus left alone in America. Her two brothers had died, and the inhuman murder of her husband left her no other objects of affection, save her son and an infant daughter. But she did not shrink nor despair amidst these multiplied disasters. Supported by her high sense of religion, and an admirable energy of character, she sedulously devoted herself to the arduous duties which now devolved upon her. The education and proper training up of her son, be came the grand object of her existence, and whatever of good there was in him must be ascribed to the affectionate tuition and admoni tions of maternal solicitude. Her strong feelings, her exquisite sensibility, her high integrity, and above all, her religion, she WILLIAM GASTON. indelibly stamped upon his mind, and even at the most advanced period of his life, his character, admirable as it was, was nothing more than the maturity of the efforts of his mother. While a school boy in Newbern, he is represented as having been very quick, and apt to learn ; of an affectionate temper, but yet volatile and irritable. His mother used every means to correct his infirmities of disposition, and to give an aim to his pursuits — sometimes employing kindness, or mild but solemn admonition, and occasionally still stricter discipline. He continued under her guar dianship and strict observation, until the fall of the year 1791, when he was sent to the college at Georgetown. The course of studies, though not very extensive, were rigorously enforced, and, as in all other catholic colleges, the ancient classics were long and painfully Studied. In the spring of 1793 it was apprehended that the constitution of our student was sinking under a consumption. Ac- .cordingly he returned to his native climate, and there soon recovered his health, and renewed his studies. Determined to give her son every advantage of education which America afforded, Mrs. Gaston placed him under the direction of the Rev. Thomas P. Irving, and after a few months of preparatory instruction, he entered the junior class of Princeton college, in the autumn of 1794. In 1796 he was graduated with the first honors of the institution ; and he was frequently heard to say, that it was the proudest moment of his life when he communicated the fact to his mother. On his return from college he commenced the study of the law, in the office of Francois Xavier Martin, afterwards a judge of the su preme court of Louisiana. In 1798, when he was only twenty years of age, he was admitted to the bar, and in August, 1800, the first year after his coming of age, he was elected a member of the senate of North Carolina. In 1808 he was. chosen by the Newbern district an elector of president and vice-president, and in the same year he drew up the act of the assembly regulating the descent of inherit ances. In 1813 he was elected a member of congress, and continued in that body until 1817, when he retired to the more agreeable pursuits of domestic and professional life. Judge Gaston carried' into congress the zeal and independence of an upright politician, as well as the learning of a jurist ; and on revie-wing his congressional career, his friends will find no cause for chagrin or mortification, whilst those who differed from him in opinions, will at least acknowledge the invariable rectitude of his political course. ¦ VOL. IV .-21 . 3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. His first great effort on the floor of congress, was his celebrated speech in opposition to the loan bill, and on that occasion he appears to have acted as the acknowledged leader of the federal party. In the early part of the year 1815, a bill was introduced to authorize a loan of twenty-five millions of dollars to the government of the United States. In opposing this bill, Mr. Gaston declared that if it could be shewn necessary to accomplish any purposes demanded by , the honor and welfare of the country, it assuredly should meet with no opposition from him. It was, he said, avowedly not necessary, except to carry on the scheme of invasion and con quest against the Canadas ; and to that scheme he had never been a friend, and to its prosecution at that time he had invincible objec tions, founded on considerations of justice, humanity, and national policy. In the course of this speech he took a very extensive view of the causes of the war, as well as the manner in which it had been conducted. ' There is one sentence in this speech which we shall extract as a fair specimen of Judge Gaston's style of oratory. Mr. Calhoun had, in the course of his remarks, spoken with much warmth ofthe factious opposition to the administration, which he was pleased to say might be salutary in a monarchy, but was highly dangerous in a government so republican as ours. Judge Gaston concluded his reply to this remark in the following eloquent peroration. " If this doctrine were then to be collected from the histories of the world, can it now be doubted, since the experience of the last twenty- five years? Go to France — once revolutionary, now imperial France — and ask her whether factious power or intemperate oppo sition be the more fatal to freedom and happiness. Perhaps at some moment, when the eagle eye of her master is turned away, she may whisper to you to behold the demolition of Lyons, or the devastation of La Vendee. Perhaps she will give you a written answer. Draw near the fatal lamp post, and by its flickering light read it as traced in characters of blood that flowed from the guillotine — 'Faction is a demon — faction out of power is a demon enchained — faction vested with the attributes of rule, is a Moloch of destruction.' " In 1816, Mr. Stanford, of North Carolina, moved to expunge " the previous question" from the rules of the house ; and this motion, which was opposed by Mr. Clay, Judge Gaston supported in one of the ablest spjeeches ever delivered by him in the hall of the represen tatives. It contained more learning than we thought existed on the subject, and we doubt -whether, at the present day, its history in the WILLIAM GASTON. English parliament, or the American congress, is any where so ac curately and ingeniously discussed, as in this speech. It was entirely a new field, and we shall venture to ascribe as much genius in the ingenuity which selected such an occasion for display, as in the eloquent and vivid manner in which the orator set forth his store of learning. It is a studied and richly carved work, and had obviously occupied his attention for a long time. We have not space for more than a short extract from this speech, but commend the whole of it to the perusal of all politicians and statesmen. After a few intro ductory remarks, Mr. Gaston said : — " And, sir, I rejoice equally at the opposition which the motion of my colleague has encountered. If this hideous rule could have been vindicated, we should have received that vindication from the gentleman who has just resumed his seat. (Mr. Clay.) If his inge nuity and zeal combined, could form for the previous question no other defence than that which we have heard, the previous question cannot be defended. If beneath his shield it finds so slight a shelter, it must fall a victim to the just, though long delayed vengeance of awakened and indignant freedom. If Hector cannot defend his Troy, the doom of Troy is fixed by fate. It is indispensable, before we proceed further in the consideration of this subject, that we should perfectly understand what is our previous question. Gentle men may incautiously suppose that it is the same with what has been called the previous question elsewhere. This would be a most fatal mistake. Our previous question is altogether sui generis, the only one of its kind ; and to know it we must consider not merely what is written of it in our code, but what it has been rendered by exposi tion and construction. Our previous question ' can only be admitted when demanded by a majority of the members present.' It is a question, ' whether the question under debate should now be put.' On the previous question 'there shall be no debate;' '^ until it is decided, it shall preclude all amendment and debate of the main question.' If it be decided negatively, viz., that the main question shall not now be put, the main question is of course superseded ; but if it be decided aflirmatively that the main question shall now be put, the main question is to be put instantaneously, and no member can be allowed to amend or discuss it. The previous question is entitled to precedence over motions to amend, commit, or postpone the main question, and therefore, when admitted, puts these entirely aside. This, according to the latest improvement, is now our rule of the pre- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. vious question, and certainly in your patent office there is no model of a machine better fitted to its purposes, than this instrument for the ends of tyranny. It is a power vested in a majority, to foi;bid at their sovereign will and pleasure, every member, not of that majority, from making known either his own sentiments, or the wishes or com plaints of his constituents, in relation to any subject under conside ration, or from attempting to amend what is proposed as a law for the government of the whole nation." After detailing the history of the previous question in the British house of commons, and in the American congress, and shewing that it was not .considered a machine to close debate, up to the year 1808, he proceeds to say, " It was impossible that any rule could be more completely settled, both by uninterrupted usage and solemn, delibe rate adjudication, than was the rule of the previous question in this house. It was a rulp perfectly consistent with good sense, with the requisite independence of the members of the house, and with the right of the free people whom they represented. It preserved deco rum ; it had a tendency to prevent unnecessary discussions ; it super seded unnecessary questions ; while it left perfectly untouched the fundamental principles of parliamentary and political freedom. Thus, sir, it continued the more firm for the impotent attempt which had been made to prevent it, and the better understood from the blunders which its examination had exposed. Such was the state of things, when on the memorable night of the 27th of Febru ary, 1811, the monster which we now call the 'previous question,' was ushered into existence, and utterly supplanted the harmless, useless being whose name it usurped." This speech, so profound and so violent in its character, was received by the house with astonishment and admiration. There is always something remarkable in the speeches of south ern orators. A striking similarity of manner and of language, which shews at once tbe " latitude" of the orator. Vehement whenever they condemn, enthusiastic whenever they applaud, they carry into political strife " the rancor of opposition, or the idolatry of love." Something of this feeling may be observed in the speeches of Mr Gaston, which we have noticed, and which are among the finest specimens of southern eloquence. They contain a great deal of calm, weighty argument, but it is only when the orator turns to watch the position of his antagonist, that his language is fired by passion, and his denunciations are sent forth burning, and blazing, and " withering as they go." WILLIAM GASTON. ¦ After his retirement from congress. Judge Gaston frequently appeared in the assembly of North Carolina, and always as the leadei of what may be called the constitutional party. In that body many of his most splendid speeches were made. He framed the law estab lishing the present supreme court of the state ; and the liberal basis upon which it is established, is to be ascribed to his zealous and effi cient support. In 1828, he delivered a speech upon the currency of the state, which has been classed among his highest efforts. His defence of the constitution of North Carolina in 1831, will long be remembered. The constitution of the state is a venerable instrument. It came down to the present generation, from the sages of the revolu tion, and is loved and venerated in North Carolina for its very antiquity. It was a fit subject for the exhibition of his leariling, eloquence, and patriotism, and those resources of his mind he poured forth with the most brilliant profusion. Judge Gaston now became junior member of the supreme court of North Carolina. It was in the practice of his profession, more than in the legislative hall, where he acquired his great reputation as an orator. He was at all times remarkable for his steady adherence to the Union, and distinguished himself for his zealous opposition to the doctrine of nullification, as set forth by some South Carolina politicians. Although Judge Gaston was throughout his life, busily engaged in the discharge of professional and legislative duties, he yet found time, in the intervals of such labors, to keep pace with the literature of the day. It was his custom, in riding the circuit of his courts, to take with him the last new publication, and to peruse it as he rode along the road, and he was not unfrequently aroused from the en chantment of Scott, or Irving, by the upsetting of his sulky. His habits of study were always intense, and his habits of recreation, re fined. His intercourse in the society of his friends, was marked with great mildness, affability, and occasional conviviality. In the narra tion of an anecdote, especially a professional one, he was unrivalled, and his manner of conversation was generally playful and easy. Active as was Judge Gaston in political and professional ' pursuits, he was equally devoted to the performance of the duties of domestic life. It was in this sphere, to which by his moral and social qualities he was so well adapted, that he found the enjoyments — though often marred by the hand of death — in which he most delighted. He was three times married. On the 4th of September, 1803, he married Miss Susan Hay, (daughter of John Hay, Esq., of Fayetteville,) who NATIONAL PORTRAITS. died the 20th of April, 1804. On the 6th of October, 1805, he mar ried Hannah McClure, the only daughter of General McClure, who died on the 12th of July, 1813, leaving one son and two daughters. His third wife, whom he married in August, 1816, was Eliza Ann, eldest daughter of Dr. Charles Worthington, of Georgetown, District of Columbia, who died on the 26th of January, 1819, leaving two infant children. The education of his children, and the performance of his official duties, occupied the remainder of his life. He died at Raleigh, N. C, on the 23d of January, 1844, in the sixty-sixth year of his age. The excellence of his character, and the grief occasioned by his death, are impressively portrayed in the proceedings of the bar, and the court. " Struck down suddenly," say the members of the bar of the supreme court of North Carolina, " by the hand of God, in the midst of his judicial labors — dying, as he lived, in the enlightened and devoted service of his country — endued by learning, and adorned by eloquence, with their choicest gifts — ennobled by that pure integrity, and undevi- ating pursuit of right, which only an ardent and animating religious faith can bestow and adequately sustain ; and endeared to the hearts of all that knew him, by those virtues which diffuse over the social circle all that is cheerful, refined, and benevolent, he has left behind him a rare and happy memory, dear alike to his brethren, his friends, and his country." " Whereupon, Chief Justice Ruffin, on behalf of the court, responded : The court unites with the bar, in lamenting the calamity which has fallen upon us ; and is ready to concur in whatever may honor the memory of our deceased brother, or express a sympathy with his be reaved family. The loss, indeed, is that of the whole country ; and it will doubtless be deeply felt and more deeply deplored, by the whole country. But to us, who have been connected with him here, it is peculiarly severe. Having been closely associated in private in tercourse, and in the discharge of a common pubhc duty, for the last ten years, we have had the best means of knowing and appreciating his personal virtues, and judicial services. We know, that he was indeed a good man and a great judge. His assistance, in the discharge of our official duties, is cheerfully acknowledged by us, who. have sur vived him. In our opinion, his worth, as a minister of justice, and expounder of the laws, was inestimable ; and we feel that as a per sonal friend, his loss cannot be supplied." WiiMLJiM^m ]£HuJ;CL^IEIB) m^wiimo WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. William Richardson Davie was born in the village of Egremont, near White Haven, in England, on the 20th June, 1756. He was brought by his father to America soon after the peace of 1763, who, returmng, confided him to thc care of the Rev. William Richardson, his maternal uncle, a Presbyterian minister in the Waxhaw settlement. South Carolina, who, having no children, adopted him as his heir. He was sent to an academy in North Carolina, whence, on being pre pared for college, he was removed to Nassau-Hall, in Princeton, New Jersey, where the Revolution found him ready to graduate. 'i'he venerable Dr. Witherspoon, yielding to the soHcitations of the students, permitted them to organize a company, and join the Ameri can army, then making its first campaign. W. R. Davie acted as sergeant of this gallant band. After serving a tour of duty in New Jersey and New York, he returned to college, and graduated with the highest honor of his class. On his return home, young Davie, finding all the commissions for the troops just levied had been issued, determined to study law, and went for that purpose to Salisbury, North Carolina. The war con tinuing, Davie's devotion to the cause of freedom, and his ardent desire to bear his part in the glorious struggle, again induced him to abandon his studies. In order, as soon as possible, to accomplish his wish, he prevailed on a patriotic gentleman by the name of Barnet, too far advanced in life for military service, but of high standing and great popularity, to raise a troop of dragoons, by whose influence he obtained a lieutenancy in this troop. The captain immediately joined the southern army : resigning soon after, the command devolved on Lieutenant Davie, by whose request the troop was attached to Pulaws- ki's legion. In this corps he rose to the rank of major. In a charge of cavalry at the affair of Stono, Davie received a severe wound, and was removed from the field to the hospital in Charleston, where he suffered a tedious confinement. On leaving Charleston, being lame fi-om his wound and unfit for duty, he returned to Salisbury, to NATIONAL PORTRAITS. prosecute the study of law, and in the fall of that year received from the governor of North Carolina license to practise. In the winter of 1780, he was empowered by the government of North Carolina to raise one troop of dragoons, and two of mounted infantry. To equip this force he expended the whole of the estate left him by his uncle. With it he protected the south-west part of North Carolina from the predatory incursions of the British and loyalists, and was constantly on the enemy's hues, performing a most important and hazardous duty. Colonel Davie joined General Rutherford, and shared in the battle at Ramsours' mill, which eventuated in the defeat and dispersion of a large tory force. Shortly after this, he united with General Sumpter of South, Carolina, and Colonel Irvine of North Carolina, in the attack on the British encampment at Hanging Rock, where they succeeded in destroying the British commissary's stores, capturing three compa nies of Bryan's regiment, and about sixty horses, and arms of all kinds. " When Lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a small -village in North Carolina, Colonel Davie, at the head of his detachment, threw him self in his front, determined to give him a specimen of the firmness and gallantry with which the inhabitants of the place were prepared to dispute with his lordship their native soil. "Colonel Tarleton's legion formed the British van, led by Major Hanger ; the commander himself being confined by sickness. " When that celebrated corps had advanced near to the centre of the village, where the Anaericans were posted, Davie poured into it so destructive a fire, that it immediately wheeled, and retreated in disorder. Being rallied on the commons, and again led on to the charge, it received on the same spot another fire with a similar effect. " Lord Cornwallis, witnessing the confusion thus produced among his choicest troops, rode up in person, and in a tone of dissatisfaction upbraided the legion with unsoldierly conduct, reminding it of its former exploits and reputation. " Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry. Colonel Davie had now fallen back to a new and well selected position. " To dislodge him from this, the legion cavalry advanced on him a third time, in rapid charge, in full view of their commander-in-chief, and still smarting from his pungent censure ; but in vain. Another fire from the American marksmen killed several of their officers, wounded Major Hanger, and repulsed them again -with increased confusion. s WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. " The main body of the British being now within musket-shot, the American leader abandoned the contest. " That they might, if possible, recover some portion of the laurels of which they had this day been shorn. Colonel Tarleton's dragoons attempted to disturb Colonel Davie in his retreat. But the latter. choosing his ground, wheeled on them with so fierce and galling a fire, that they again fell back, and troubled him no further. "It was by strokes like these that he seriously crippled and intimi dated his enemy, acquired an elevated standing in the estimation of his friends, and served very essentially the interests of freedom. With the resolution of Sumpter, and the coolness and military policy of Marion, he exhibited in his character a happy union of the high qualities of those two officers."* After being engaged in several minor actions, he was, on the fatal sixteenth of August, on his way to join General Gates, when he met our dispersed troops. Notwithstanding the defeat, he hastened for ward towards the battle-ground, and by his prudence and zeal not only checked the pursuit, but saved several wagons, one of which most fortunately contained the hospital stores and medicine chest. Justly apprehensive of the danger to which General Sumpter would be exposed by this catastrophe, he instantly despatched a courier to that officer, communicating what had transpired, and advising him to retire to Charlotte. Shortly after the appointment of General Greene to the command of the southern army, finding great difficulty in managing the com missary department, arising from the unsettled state of the country, its almost entire exhaustion by the interruption to agriculture, and the support of the English and American forces, he sent for Colonel Davie to his camp, and requested him to take charge of that depart ment •, adding, that he knew Colonel Davie was then in command of a veteran band, -with which he had acquired much reputation as a partisan officer ; and he was confident he would be unwilling to relin quish a command in which he was sure of high distinction, and accept one in the civil staff of the army. He then laid open to him the situation of the American army, assuring him they must disband unless he would undertake their support ; that if he wished to save his country, he could in no way do it so effectually ; concluding with this handsome comphment : " From the best information, I am con- * Caldwell's Life of General Greene. 3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. vinced that you alone, colonel, can save us." Thus sohcited by that great and good man, he disbanded his volunteers, thereby giving up aU chance of personal distinction for the public interest. From that time he was a member of the general's family, and was with him during his celebrated retreat through North Carolina. During this retreat, the American general had almost insurmountable difficulties to encounter, from the inclement season of the year, and the wretched condition of the troops, without blankets, shoes, or clothes. From the absence of Colonel Carrington at this time, Colonel Davie had the double duiy of quarter-master and commissary to perform, while the rapid retreat of the army greatly augmented the difficulties of his situation. The retreat terminated on passing Dan River, where Colonel Car rington joined the army, and personally superintended its passage across that stream, for which he had made the best possible arrange ments. Colonel Davie remained with the army at the south till the exhausted state of the country induced General Greene to send him to meet the legislature of North Carolina, under the hqpe that he could prevail on that body to fill up their fines, and make some arrangements for the support of the army in South Carolina. On Colonel Davie's visit to Carolina, he was furnished with letters to Governor Nash, General Allen Jones, and M. Willis Jones; to whom he made a true statement of the necessities of the southern army, and succeeded in convincing them of the importance of energetic mea sures, and inducing them to exert their utmost influence on the legis lature. It was this united influence which led them to pass a law, laying what was termed the specific tax. The legislature at the same time made Colonel Davie commissioner for its collection and distri bution, which, involving important and multifarious duties, forced him to resign his situation as commissary to the southern army, an arrangement to which General Greene consented, as it placed all the resources of North Carolina at the disposal of an officer in whom he had the highest confidence. By this law a tax was laid on every county in the state, and a commissioner was authorized to receive the produce of the country, and apply the same as he deemed for, the public good. For this purpose Colonel Davie appointed a sub-commissioner in each county, whose duty it was to take charge of the tobacco, corn, pork, and beeves, which were collected at various depots, and held subject to the orders of the commissioner-general, who was to apply the same to the pay and support of the governor and the general assem- WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. bly, and the balance to the support of the army. This was a law that imposed arduous duties on the commissioner, and seemed to involve an endless detail of barter, contract, collection, and distribu tion. It was first necessary to ascertain what a county could best pay ; if in tobacco, this was considered almost as cash, it being always possible to barter it with the merchants ; if in beeves, they were driven to some place where they could be most easily maintained, and, when necessary, killed and salted for public use, or driven to the army or legislature, as both were to be fed by the commissioner. The same course was pursued when the tax was paid in hogs ; corn was collected in depots, and issued under orders of the commissioner. All troops stationed in the state, or marching through it, were sup plied by the commissioner, so that he had accounts to settle not only with his own deputies, but with all the officers, civil and military ; in addition to which were accounts with almost every merchant in the state. In time of peace, the duties of such an officer would require incessant application, and indefatigable industry ; but war and general distress greatly enhanced the difficulties. In 1783, the law laying the specific tax expired, when Colonel Davie, having settled his accounts as commissioner, retired from public service, and with the peace commenced the practice of law. About this time he was married to Miss Sarah Jones, daughter of General Allen Jones of North Carolina, and selected the town of Roanoke for his residence. During the revolution, business had accumulated on the dockets fi-om the unsettled state of the country ; and many, whose crimes had rendered them obnoxious to the laws, were now to be tried ; among the first of these was the noted Colonel Bryan, of Rowan. This man had raised a force of seven hundred men, and with them joined the British army. These troops had been routed and cut in pieces at the battle of Hanging Rock. On his trial at Salisbury, he selected Colonel Davie as his counsel, although but just come to the bar. This trial excited much interest, from the previous good standing of tbe criminal, and the respectability of his connections. The effort made to save him soon rendered Colonel Davie the most popular advocate in the state for the defence of criminals ; and during the fifteen years he practised at the bar, not a man was tried for a capital offence at any court at which he practised, whom he was not called on to defend. This high rank as a la-wyer was united -with equal standing as a gentleman, in consequence of which he was returned as a member to the legislature of North Carolina, from the borough of Hahfax, for many years, without opposition. In that body he took an active and efficient part NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in all the important business which came before the legislature. The statute books of the state are records of his wisdom. The university of North Carolina constitutes one of the benefits resulting from his labors ; for notwithstanding that institution was advocated by all the talent and worth of the state, yet its interests in the legislature were almost exclusively intrusted to Colonel Davie. Little experience is necessary to convince any man of the pertinacity with which igno rance and prejudice will oppose every attempt at the dissemination of knowledge. There is in all legislatures a certain set of politicians, who array themselves against all liberal measures, feeling that they must lose all consequence in the general difiusion of learning ; these opposed every measure that was introduced for the benefit of the institution, and it required both talents and address to succeed against them ; but he did succeed, and the friends of learning and -virtue now view the institution with a just pride, as the honor and ornament of the state. Colonel Davie was now appointed Major General in the militia of North Carolina. When it became apparent to all that the old confederation was not calculated to advance the interest of the union, and that the blessings of the revolution were likely to be lost from the imbecility of the general government, the states determined to assemble a convention at Philadelphia to amend the constitution. General Davie was chosen a member of that convention from North Carolina, and made one of that venerable body whose joint labors produced the federal constitution. By an article in that instrument, it became necessary for the same to be ratified in each state by conventions called for the purpose. General Davie was again chosen a member of that con vention. Here he was aided by the late amiable Judge Iredel, who rendered all the assistance that could be derived from worth, talents, and learning. Their united efforts proved vain, and the constitution was rejected. A second convention called to reconsider it, ratified the constitution, and North Carolina became a member of the union. It may afford matter for surprise that General Davie's name does not appear to that great instrument. Various reasons have been assigned, but it was simply this, that illness in his family called him home before the labors of the convention were concluded. In the winter of 1799, General Davie was chosen governor ofthe state. He was not, however, permitted to remain long in that station ; his country had higher claims on his talents and services. He resigned that office to proceed as minister to France, associated with WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. Oliver Ellsworth, Chief Justice of the United States, and W. V. Murray, Esq., our resident at the Hague. They arrived in France shortly after the revolution, which placed all power in the hands of Bonaparte. Little difficulty was expe rienced in adjusting our differences with that government, excepting those that resulted from the absence of the first consul with the army, which for a time suspended all negotiations. Late in 1800, they concluded a treaty with the consular government of France, the negotiations of which were conducted by Joseph Bonaparte, Count of Survilliers, with Messrs. Rederer and Fleurieux. General Davie contemplated the character of Bonaparte with great attention. He saw him often, and conversed with him freely. He considered him a man of first rate talents as a warrior, and of great reach as a statesriian; but he regarded him also as a man of unbounded ambition, restrained by no principles, human or divine. On one occasion, after an interesting conversation, Bonaparte con cluded by saying, that he considered power as the only foundation of right: " Enfln, Monsieur, la force est droit." General Davie's opinion of him was afterwards verified by his assumption of imperial . and despotic power. Shortly after his return to America, General Davie lost his wife, a lady of lofty mind and exemplary virtues, to whom he was greatly attached ; and soon after he removed to a fine estate at Tivoli, near Landsford, beautifully situated on the Catawba river in South Caro lina, where he had long cultivated a plantation. As a farmer he was active and intelligent. Deploring the wasteftil system of farming in the southern states, which exhausts the land without returning any thing to it, he endeavored to improve it by the use of manures, rotation of crops, and rest to the land. On the formation of an agricultural society at Columbia, he was appointed president, and delivered an address, which, for purity of style, sound observation, and clear expo sition of the proper course of agriculture for this country, has never been excelled. " Some years after General Davie's retreat to his farm, the belli gerent governments of France and England, each of which had endeavored to involve our country as a party in their quarrel, multi- phed their aggressions on the commerce of the United States to such , an extent, as to furnish just cause of war against both ; and it was even seriously proposed in Congress to declare war against both. Finding, however, that such a course would expose the commerce of the country to the rapacity of both nations, it was abandoned, but NATIONAL PORTRAITS. •with strong declarations that the conduct of France and England gave us the right to choose our enemy. That choice was made, and it fell upon Great Britain. In the formation of the army for the defence of the country m this emergency, the government, laying aside party distinctions, selected General Davie as one of the officers best fitted to be intrusted with a high command. Though dissatisfied with some of the measures of the administration, he felt that as a citizen he was bound to defend his country whenever it was in danger, however brought on it. But the wounds received in the revolutionary war, and the rheumatism, which had become fixed on his constitution, incapacitated him for the exertions which his high sense of duty would have exacted from him as a commander. He, therefore, after much hesitation, declined the proffered honor." General Davie continued to reside at his beautifiil seat on the banks of the Catawba, to which travellers and visiters were constantly attracted by his hospitality, his dignified manners, and elevated cha racter. He occasionally made excursions to the warm springs for relief from the harassing disease which afflicted and wasted him. On these visits he was greatly admired by the inteUigent strangers who resorted there. The affability of his deportment gave access to all. But no person approached him, however distinguished by his talents or character, who did not speedily feel that he was in the presence of a superior man. The ignorant and the learned, the weak and the wise, were all instructed and delighted by the irresistible charms of his conversation. " At home. General Davie was the friend of the distressed, the safe counsellor of the embarrassed, and the peace-maker of all. He had a deep and even awful sense of God and his providence, and was attached to the principles and doctrines of Christianity." In person he was tal^ and finely proportioned, his figure erect and commanding, his countenance possessing great expression, and his voice full and energetic. He died in 1820, at the age of sixty-five, of cold taken on his return from the springs. He met death with the firm ness of a soldier, and of a man conscious of a life well spent. The good he did survives him ; and he has left a noble example to the youth of his country, to encourage and to stimulate them in the honorable career of virtue and of exertion. May it be appreciated and followed ! Efgav^iy WA.V/aDiorAunialWiilirisrinposKssion ol l!^J^™IKeE5c]'¦ofIlalSno« ILWffMIlil^ MMmiFIM. LUTHER MARTIN. Luther Martin, a lawyer, distinguished alike for his eccentric habits, his powerful genius, and his vast legal acquirements, was born in New Brunswick, New Jersey, in the year 1744. His ancestors were natives of England. Two of their descendants, who were bro thers, removed from New England, and established their residence in that section of the country adjoining the river Rariton, upon the east of New Brunswick, calling the township in which they had located Piscataqua, frotni the name of the town whence they emigrated. They were by occupation farmers, and having obtained large grants of land in New Jersey, removed their domestic establishment there when a greater part of the Colonial domain was a dense wilderness. , Luther was the third of nine children, and his time was generally divided, during his early boyhood, between the duties of his father's family and the acquisition of knowledge. In 1757, in the month of August, he was sent to a grammar school, where he learned the ru diments ofthe Latin language ; and in September, five years after, he was graduated at Nassau Hall, Princeton, in a class of thirty-five, with the highest collegiate honors. At that institution he laid the foundation of his subsequent greatness, and with his other classical exercises pursued the study of the French and Hebrew languages. Among his friends and associates in Princeton were J. Habersham, Esq., the Right Rev. Bishop Clagget of Maryland, the celebrated Pierpoint Edwards, and Oliver Ellsworth. His parents, however were indigent, and they were enabled, consequently, to bestow upon this son a liberal education only ; " a patrimony," he remarks, " for which my heart beats toward them a more grateful remembrance than had they bestowed upon me the gold of Peru or the gems of Golconda."* As an equivalent for the additional labor which * Modem Ingratitude, in five numbers, by Luther Martin, Esq. «f Maryland, p. 134. I NATIONAL PORTRAITS. his two elder brothers had undergone for the support of his father's family while he was receiving the benefits of a liberal education, he conveyed to them, as soon as the laws permitted his disposition of the estate, a small tract of land which had been granted him by his grandfather for his own support. Upon his graduation from college, having fixed upon the legal profession as his choice, against which, however, his family enter tained the strongest prejudices, upon the second day aftei: his com mencement, and when he was scarcely nineteen years of age, deter mining to be no longer a burden to his family, he departed, in com pany with two or three friends, on horseback, and with but a few dollars in his pocket, for Cecil county, near Octorara Creek in the state of Maryland, in order to be employed as an assistant in a school, which he had learned was just deprived of a teacher, and which was under the management of the Rev. Mr. Hunt, to whom he carried letters of recommendation. Before his arrival the place was occupied. He was received with great hospitality by this gentleman however, who, conjointly with his other friends, advised him to proceed im mediately to dueenstown, Q,ueen Ann's county, where a vacancy had just occurred in the common school of that place. Carrying to that county letters of introduction to the board of trustees, among whom was Edward Tighlman, (father of the distinguished Edward Tighl- man, Esq. of Philadelphia,) as well as to many of the most distin guished gentlemen in the neighborhood, he was engaged, after the ordinary examination, to take charge ofthe school. His object in entering upon this employment was, to acquire a sup port while pursuing the study of the law. Here he remained in the capacity of a preceptor until April, 1770. During this period he made many valuable acquaintances, among whom was Solomon Wright, Esq., the father of the Hon. Mr. Wright, late senator of the United States, who gave him the advantage of his library, and re ceived him in all respects as a member of his family. For several years he had little relaxation from the most vigorous industry. His means were scanty, as the meagre profits of his school were his sole support. His improvident habits of expenditure brought him eventu ally into debt ; and upon his expressing his determination to relin quish the business of an instructor, and to devote one year exclusively to the study of the law, he was arrested upon five different warrants of attachment. In fact, a want of economy in his pecuniary affairs was prominent through life, and frequently brought upon him the most unpleasant consequences. On this subject he somewhat quaintly LUTHER MARTIN. remarks respecting himself — " I am not even yet, I was not then, nor have I ever been, an economist of any thing but time."* In 1771, through the kind agency of George Wythe, the former chancellor of the state of Virginia, and the Hon. John Randolph, he was admitted to the bar, continued his legal studies until 1772, and then proceeded to Williamsburgh, where the general court was in session, and remained in that place until it terminated. Here he formed many valuable acquaintances, among whom may be men tioned Patrick Henry, the great orator of the Revolution. He soon after commenced the practice of the law in Accomack and Northampton, in Virginia, and was admitted as an attorney in the courts of Somerset and Worcester, which held their sessions four times a year. He made his residence in Somerset, where he soon acquired a full and lucrative practice, amounting, as he informs us, to about one thousand pounds per annum ; which, however, was after a period diminished by the disturbances growing out of the American Revolution. At this time he was occasionally employed in causes of Admiralty jurisdiction, involving interests of great mag nitude, and also in some important appeals to the Congress of the United States. A Criminal court had just been established at Wil- Uamsburgh, and Mr. Martin was employed as counsel for thirty prisoners, twenty-nine of whom were acquitted. His talents were at this time fully appreciated, and he was regarded as one of the most able lawyers at the bar at which he practised. In 1774, while attending the courts in Virginia, he was appointed one of a committee for the county to oppose the claims of Great Bri tain, and also a member of the Convention which was called at An napolis to resist the usurpations of the British crown. He threw the whole strength of his manly vigor, courage, and iron firmness into the cause of American freedom, and opposed these claims with extraordinary boldness at a period, to use his own words, " through out which not only myself, but many others, did not lie down one night on their beds without the hazard of waking on board a British armed ship or in the other world." When the Howes were on the way to Chesapeak Bay, they published a manifesto, or proclamation, addressed to the people of that part of the United States, against which they were directing their military operations. This procla mation was answered in an address to the Howes by Luther Mar * Modem Ingratitude, p. 138. VOL. IV.— 22 ' NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tin. He also, about the same time, published an address, directed " to the inhabitants of the Peninsula between the Delaware river and the Chesapeak to the southward of the British lines," which was distributed among them in printed hand-bills. Upon the 11th of February, 1778, he was appointed, through the advice of Judge Chace, Attorney General of the state of Maryland ; in which office his remarkable firmness, professional knowledge, and uncompromising energy, were most strikingly exhibited in prosecuting the Tories and the confiscation of their goods. No other man, in fact, could be found at that time of sufficient hardihood and firmness to fill this office. Luther Martin was called upon at this crisis, and he met it with a manliness of decision and a determined power, which left no room for fear ; coming down upon this class of men with an iron hand, and bringing to bear upon them all the powers of the go vernment in order to effect their total defeat and overthrow. In per forming the duties of his office in other respects, he exhibited the same vigorous and unquailing determination. On one occasion, for his promptitude in prosecuting a man of great respect, ability, and influ ence, who was indicted for the murder of an Irishman, he was voted, by the friends of the murdered man, a massive service of silver plate, which, from official considerations, he refused to accept. He continued in the office of Attorney-General during a long period, constantly augmenting his reputation as an advocate and jurist. The office was conferred on him originally without his solicitation, and his commission found him at Accomack, giving directions to work men who were engaged in the manufacture of salt. As a demonstration of his powers of mind, as well as his great legal acquirenients, it may be remarked, that he stood among the brightest and strongest at a bar, which numbered among its members a bril liant constellation, composed of such men as Harper, Winder, Chase, Wirt, and Pinkney. In 1783 he was married to a Miss Cresap of Old Town in the state of Maryland, who was the grand-daughter of Col. Cresap, against whom the charge was brought by Mr. Jefferson of having murdered the Indian family of Logan. This charge originated a long contro versy between the latter gentleman and Mr. Martin, which were carried on through divers inflammatory pamphlets. During the whole course of his practice at the bar he was a vio lent politician, and wrote for the press several pungent essays against what was then denominated the Democratic party. In 1804 he was engaged, conjointly with Mr. Harper, in the de- LUTHER MARTIN. fence of Judge Chase, then one of the justices of the Superior Court of the United States, who was impeached in the house of Represen tatives, upon eight articles, for malfeasance in office. After a power- fill argument in his behalf, Judge Chase was acquitted ; a constitu tional majority not having been found against him upon a single article. Aaron Burr, that able though ill-fated man, was at this period the personal and political friend of Mr. Martin. He had just broken away from his brilliant career, and public opinion had branded him as a traitor. In 1807, his trial for treason " in preparing the means of a military expedition against Mexico, a territory of the king of Spain, with whom the United States were at peace," occurred in the Circuit Court of the United States for the district of Virginia. Messrs. Wickham, Wirt, Randolph, and Martin, were engaged upon this cause, which involved interests of vast importance, and principles of constitutional law of gireat magnitude. Mr. Martin appeared in defence of his friend, who, as every body knows, was acquitted. During the whole course of the trial Mr. Martin demonstrated himself to be the steadfast friend of Aaron Burr, and entered into a recognisance for his appearance, from day to day, before the bar of court. In 1814 Mr. Martin was appointed chief judge of the Court of Oyer and Terminer for the city and county of Baltimore, and ful filled its duties with considerable rigor, though with great success, until a new state law made it necessary for him to relinquish his seat upon the bench. In 1818 he was again qualified as attorney- general of the state and district attorney for the city of Baltimore ; but his declining health prevented him from attending in person to his official duties. From that period to the time of his death, his mind and body were gradually impaired by disease, and a paralytic stroke, with which he was soon after attacked, almost destroyed his physical and intellec tual powers. Suffering in his old age under the goadings of penury, he removed to the city of New- York, to take advantage of the hos pitality of his old friend and client, Aaron Burr, who faithfully paid him the last rites of kindness, in the imbecilhty of his age, in return for the valuable services which Martin had rendered him, both in money and talent, when he was in the full vigor and glory of man hood. Luther Martin died at New-York, from the mere decay of na ture, on the evening of the 10th of July, 1826, aged 82 years. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. The information of his death having reached Baltimore, the bench and the bar immediately convened in the court house of that city ; and on motion of the Honorable John Purviance, it was "Resolved, that we hear with great sensibility of the death of our venerable brother, the former attorney-general of Maryland, and the patri arch of the profession, Luther Martin ; and that, as a testimony of just regard for his memory, and great respect for his exalted talents and profound learning, we will wear mourning for the space of thirty days." As a lawyer, Mr. Martin was learned, clear, solid, and second to no man among his competitors. In fact he shone far above his con temporaries in the accuracy of his knowledge and the clearness of his forensic arguments, He had drawn his legal attainments, like Pinkney,' from the great fountains of jurisprudence ; and was content to exhibit them only in the light of that reason, which. Sir Edward Coke declares, " is the life of the law." Of his general powers at the bar, his unbroken success and his exalted reputation abroad, are plain demonstrations. His mind was so completely stored with the prin ciples of legal science, and his professional accuracy was so generally acknowledged, that his mere opinion was considered law, and is now deemed sound authority before any American tribunal. His cast of mind was less brilliant than solid. He ordinarily commenced his efforts at the bar with a long, desultory, tedious exordium. He seemed to labor amid the vast mass of general matters at the com mencement of his speeches, sometimes continuing for an hour in a confused essay, and then suddenly springing off upon his track with a strong, cogent, and well-compacted argument. His address at the bar was not good, nor was his voice agreeable ; consequently the value of his forensic efforts is based more upon the foriiter in re, than t\ie suaviter in m,odo ; more upon matter than manner. The sensitiveness of his feelings frequently led him to acrimonious ex pressions against his antagonists. He was accustomed, from the fashion of the age, to use a considerable quantity of the stimulus of ardent spirit ; and we have been credibly informed that he has de livered some of his most powerful and splendid arguments under its strongest excitement. He was a man of warm heart and generous feelings, and to prove this, numerous examples of his benevolence might be cited ; but in the discharge of his official duties he was rigorous and unyielding. Before closing this article, we must add that Mr. Martin, was op posed to the adoption of the present constitution of the United States. LUTHER MARTIN. As a member of the Convention by which that instrument was framed, he combatted it in its earliest stages ; and when it was committed to the states for their approval, he addressed a long argument to the legislature of Maryland, which was intended to dissuade the people of that state from adopting it. This argument concluded with the following words — " Whether, Sir, in the variety of appointments, and in the scramble for them, I might not have as good a prospect to advantage myself as many others, it is not for me to say ; but this, Sir, I can say with truth, that so far -was I from being influ enced in my conduct by interest, or the consideration of office, that I would cheerfully resign the appointment I now hold ; I would bind myself never to accept another, either under the general go vernment or that of my own state : I would do more. Sir, so des tructive do I consider the present system to the .happiness of my country. I would cheerfully sacrifice that share of property with which heaven has blessed a life of industry. I would reduce my self to indigence and poverty ; and those who are dearer to me than my own existence, I would entrust to the care and protection of that providence who hath so kindly protected myself, if oh those terms onlyl could procure my country to reject those chains which are forged for it."* Mr. Martin's violent opposition to the proposed frame of government was unsuccessful, but it most probably caused a more deliberate examination and approval than might have been deemed necessary had it not been so pow-erfully assailed. Mr. Martin's personal appearance, as well as his mind, were alike extraordinary. He often appeared walking in the street with his legal documents close to his eyes for perusal — wholly abstracted from the world and absorbed in his profession. He was little above the ordinary size of men, but strong and muscular, although not very broad in form. He usually wore a brown or blue dress, with ruffles around the wrists after the ancient fashion, and his hair tied behind hanging below the collar of his coat. Luther Martin was undoubtedly one ofthe ablest lawyers which our country has produced, and his name will descend to posterity among the brightest of those, who have gained their reputation strictly at the bar and in connection with causes which can never be detached from our national annals ; but there are others ofthe same profession with natural and acquired talents certainly not superior to his, whose * Secret Proceedings and Debates ofthe Federal Convention, pages 93, 94. T NATIONAL PORTRAITS. fame will probably occupy a broader space, merely from the fact, that the stage on which they play their part is more conspicuous than that on which he acted his. EnfiraredlyR^W-Dt ¦\3n. Painted for thf Medical CUaa of the , IFMHmniP g)'25S"(Sr IPIinr^IESIE, r/Otyt^ PHILIP SYNG PHYSICK. Dr. Philip Svf a Physick was born on the 7th of July, 1768, in Third, near Arch street, Philadelphia. His father, Mr. Edmund Physick, was a native of England ; and his mother, Miss Syng, the daughter of a highly respectable citizen of Philadelphia, who was one of the early friends and companions of Franklin ; and whose name appears on the register of the American Philosophical Society as one of its founders, and also connected with other undertakings of pub lic utility at that period. The celebrity of Doctor Physick has been so general, that to the American reader it is almost superfluous to state that he was distin guished by a long and brilliant course in Surgery and Medicine ; by a deep and universal conviction on the medical and public mind of this country in favor of his skill ; and by traits of character so promi nent and so peculiar, that the chances are very improbable of their being repeated in any other indiTridual . Even if Nature should renew her production, the difference of circumstances in which it will be placed, from the immense changes constantly and rapidly occurring in our social state, will prevent the same mode and degree of develop ment. The subject of our memoir received his academic education from Robert Proud, in " Friends' Academy," and during the time lived in the family of Mr. John Tod, the father-in-law of the present Mrs. Ma dison. He then entered the classical department of the University of Pennsylvania, and obtained his knowledge of the languages from Mr. James Davidson, one of the best scholars of his day, No small fond ness for these his earlier studies remained with him to the end of his life. Having passed honorably through his college studies, he received the degree of Bachelor of Arts. His father now considered him ready to engage in the study of medicine, and placed him under the charge 4— 2N 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of the late Dr. Adam Kuhn one of the most learned and successful physicians of that day. His first introduction to anatomy excited strongly his aversion and disgust to the profession of medicine — it was the boiling of a skeleton in the Medical College in^ Fifth street, now the Health Office. He re turned home, and implored his father to change his destination ; it was all in vain. Finding his father thus inexorable, he began his medical studies in earnest. When twenty years of age, in 1788, his father took him ^ London, and succeeded in fixing him under the direction of Mr. John Hunter, the great surgeon of the day ; and now looked upon ^s the first medi cal man that the British empire has produced, his posthumous reputa tion having gone vastly beyond any that he ever had, when alive. Being placed in a dissecting-room, he distinguished himself in a short time by his assiduity, and by the neatness and success of his dis sections ; he became a favorite with Mr. Home, the assistant in the rooms, and also with Mr. Hunter. The confidence and partiality of the latter were exhibited in the year 1790, while he was still a student under him, by Mr. Hunter using great exertions, and successfully, to get him elected House Surgeon to St. George's Hospital. In the year 1791 he received his diploma from the Royal College of Surgeons in London. After which he visited Edinburgh, and hav ing spent a winter there, took out the degree of Doctor of Medicine in the University, in 1792. In the latter part of the same year he re turned home, highly instructed in his profession ; after having declin ed offers by his preceptor Mr. Hunter, of a promising and advantage ous kind, for him to settle in London, this course was probably influ enced in some degree by his health, which the climate and atmosphere of that metropolis did not suit. The year 1793 brought him distinctly and prominently into pub lic notice. T^he premonitory indications of a fatal epidemic being on the approach, were but too faithfully verified, when, on the 19th of August, the celebrated Rush announced to his fellow-citizens that a malignant and mortal fever had broken out among them. This start ling intelligence, whereby the repose of the public mind was disturbed, was received with the agitation and surprise created by some unex pected convulsion of nature ; by some it was discredited, and strong indignation expressed against its author. The celerity, however, with which the disease invaded the several walks of life, left no room for disputation, and all that remained to be done, was to make the best possible arrangements for its visitation. Among the measures of the PHILIP SYNG PHYSICK. day, recommended by the College of Physicians on the 27th of Au gust, and carried into immediate effect, was the providing a large and airy hospital in the neighborhood of the city, for the reception of such poor persons as could not be accommodated with suitable advanta ges in private houses. The erection of the Bush Hill Hospital was the result of this recommendation ; and Dr. Physick having offered his services, was chosen physician of the same. He left his lodgings in town, entered immediately upon his new duties, and continued in the exercise of them till the disease had passed away. In the year 1794 he was appointed a prescribing physician in the Philadelphia Dispensary, and a surgeon to the Pennsylvania Hospital; the public confldence was also exhibited by his practice increasing with no ordinary rapidity. A recurrence of the yellow fever as an epidemic, in 1798, led again to a performance of similar duties in the Bush Hill Hospital. The zeal and fidelity with which he went through these, were recognised in the presentation of some elegant pieces of silver plate. Their cost was upwards of one thousand dollars, and they bore the following in scription : — " From the Board of Managers of the Marine and City Hospitals, to Philip Syng Physick, M. D. As a mark of their respectful approbation of his voluntary and ines timable services, as Resident Physician at the City Hospital in the calamity of 1798." On Sept. 18th, 1800, he married Miss Emlen, the daughter of a gentleman of learning, distinction, and wealth, and who belonged to the very respectable Society of Friends. She died in 1820, lea-ving four chidren now alive — two sons and two daughters. In 1805, the chair of Surgery in the University of Pennsylvania having been made a distinct one, he was elected to it ; the success of his operations and lectures in the Pennsylvania Hospital, is considered to have created, and established this change. In July, 1819, he resigned his chair of Surgery in the University of Pennsylvania, and was appointed to that of Anatomy, vacated, the pre ceding November, by the death of his nephew, Dr. Dorsey. The latest of his appointments was in 1836, when he was elected an honorary fellow of the Royal Medical and Chirurgical Society of Lon don, and soon after received his diploma ; he is said to have been very much pleased with this mark of respect from a city where his early studies had been conducted. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. The earliest commendatory notice of him is found in the Treatise on the Blood by his preceptor, John Hunter. The latter wishing to arrive at some general conclusions on certain phenomena of the blood, as to its coagulability and putrescence under several conditions named, performed experiments on the subject, which were rather incomplete and unsatisfactory to himself ; to verify, however, what he had done, he says, " Many of these experiments were repeated by my desire by Dr. Physick, now of Philadelphia, when he acted as house-surgeon to St. George's hospital, whose accuracy I could depend upon." In 1793 he, in conjunction with Dr. Cathrall, made several dissec tions of persons dead of yellow fever, which proved its infiammatory character, and that its principal violence fell on the stomach. These observations were not absolutely new, because they had been preceded by similar ones by Dr. Mitchill, in his account of the yellow fever of Virginia in 1737 and 1741, and by corresponding ones in the West Indies. They had, however, an important local influence in correct ing the prevailing notions of the disease, by proving, that so far from being one of debility, it presented the highest possible grade of inflam mation, — one exactly similar to what is produced by acrid poisons, as arsenic, introduced into the stomach. The principle was thus esta blished, that the reputed putrid phenomena were merely the expression of the gastric inflammation, and that the proper treatment was precise ly the rever.se of what had obtained. To this advance in the therapeutic indications of a disease so fatal and so terrifying, was added one of a most important prophylactic or preventive kind. At a time when it was perilous to the practice, as well as to the reputation for sanity of any physician, to assert that the yellow fever was generated among us and not imported, he had the manliness and dignity to declare openly this obnoxious truth. He also admonished the people, that the true protection from such -visita tions, was not in establishing ari empty system of quarantine laws, and thereby interrupting foreign commerce, but in cleanliness at their o-wn doors and along their own wharves. These were the views taken and enforced at the same time, by the eloquence and fervor of a Rush. To this idea, constantly urged upon public attention, are to be traced the very complete and effective arrangements for supplying the city of Philadelphia with water, by applying, if required, the whole cur rent of the Schuylkill to the purpose. To the walks of Surgery, however, we must look for the genius of Physick in its most decided and extensive application. It is there that we find it exhibiting a series of triumphs over cases of dis- PHILIP SYNG PHYSICK. ease which had baffled the skill of men only inferior to himself and it is there that it was most active in inventions to improve and to palliate established modes of treatment. His management of diseased joints by perfect rgst, elevation, and diet, is a happy substitute for the errors generated under the use of the term scrofula or white swelling, and ending either by amputation or in death — sometimes in both. His treatment ofthe inflammation ofthe hip-joint in children (coxalgia), by a splint, low diet, and frequent purging, exhibits another of those successful innovations upon ordinary practice. His invention of an ap propriate treatment and cure for that loathsome disease, artificial anus, which invention has been so unceremoniously modified and claimed by a distinguished French surgeon, the late Baron Dupuytren, is a proof of the activity and resources of his professional mind. Another invention, still more frequent in its employment, from the greater num ber of such cases, is the application of the seton to the cure of fractures of bones refusing to unite. Other inventions are found in the treat ment of mortification by blisters ; of anthrax by caustic alkali ; the ligature of kid skin for arteries in excisions of the female breast. To him, also, we owe the original act, if not invention, of pumping out the stomach in cases of poisoning ; also an improvement in the treatment of fractures of the condyles of the os humeri, so as to render the resto ration perfect. We might in this way go on to enumerate many other points of excellence about him ; but, however appropriate it might be to offer a complete exposition of them, the space allotted to a memoir of this kind must prohibit a more extensive and complete annun ciation. Those who have had an opportunity of witnessing his prac tice extensively, will at least conclude with us in saying, Nihil te' tigit, quod non ornavit. With this great fertility in invention and ardor in the prosecution of his profession, his original papers, as published, are few, and they are also very short. Lecturing for many years on Surgery, his chief organ of publicity was his class of students. The Elements of Surgery, published by his nephew. Dr. Dorsey, contain the most perfect account of his opinions and practice up to that period. To the preceding claims to professional veneration, were united physical qualifications of the most perfect kind. He had a correct, sharp, and discriminating eye ; a hand delicate in its touch and move ment, and which never trembled or faltered ; an entire composure and self-possession, the energy of which increased upon an unexpected emergency. He had a forethought of all possible contingencies and NATIONAL PORTRAITS. demands during a great operation, and therefore had every thing pre pared for it ; when performed, he entered upon a most conscientious discharge of his duty to the patient, and watched him with a vigilance and anxiety which never remitted till his fate was ascertained. If to the foregoing brilliant qualities as an operator, and the loud plau dits which attended their exercise, we add a chastening of feeling which subdued .every sentiment of vanity and regulated entirely his judg ment ; and that he had an invincible repugnance, a horror at engaging in dangerous operations through ostentation, and where the probabili ties of cure were not largely in favor of the patient ; we have in this summary the most perfect example of a surgeon which this country has ever seen. But as these great points and striking professional landmarks seldom come in clusters, it will probably be long in the course of Providence before there will be a re-union of all the same excellent qualities. His operation for the stone on Chief Justice Marshall, in 1831, was the last of his great efforts. He anticipated it with much anxiety, but when brought to the point, he rallied finely — eyery thing was, as usual, in readiness. The unexpected turn given to the operation by the al most incredible number, probably a thousand, of small calculi which he met with, and their adhesion to the internal coat of the bladder, did not disconcert him in the slightest degree. He in a little time de tected the existing state of things, and they were brought to a success ful conclusion, being followed by a complete cure. This operation was the more interesting from the distinction of its tWo principal per sonages ; the one, the acknowledg:ed head of the legal profession, and the other of the medical ; and both sustaining themselves, though in advanced life, by that tone of moral firmness and dignity which had advanced them from inconsiderable beginnings to the stations which they then occupied. Dr. Physick was of middling stature, and not inclined to corpu lence even at his best periods of health. His bust was a remarkably fine one ; he had a well-formed head and face, tbe expression of the lat ter being thoughtful and pensive, sometimes enlivened in conversation by a smile, but very seldom so spontaneously. His nose was aquiline and thin ; and his eye hazel, well-formed, vivid, and searching: — his gaze seemed sometimes to penetrate into the very interior ofthe body. His eye acquired additional effect from his pallid, fixed, and statue-like face. His hands w^ere small, delicate, and flexible. He dressed with great neatness : his clothes being put on with an exact attention to the process, and being from year to year of a uniform cut. Many, no PHILIP SYNG PHYSICK. doubt, remember the very admirable and characteristic appearance imparted to his physiognomy and head by the use of hair powder, and how this almost solitary remnant among the gentlemen of Philadelphia, of an ancient fashion, seemed to be in entire harmony with his own individuality of mind and of reputation. Dr. Physick's traits as a teacher corresponded with other points in his character. His course of Surgery, upon which his reputation was founded in an especial manner, was eminently practical and in structive. He did not pretend to range over the whole field of this science, but limited himself to topics of daily occurrence, or at least such as might be expected in the practice of any medical man. Re lying upon his own experience and habits of observation, he had but little to do with the opinions of others ; he quoted them rarely, and never in such a way as to leave the point unsettled by an array of op posite authorities. His opinions were for the most part founded upon deep reflection, and w;ere decided in one way or another ; he never leaned to one side and inclined to another, so as to neutralise his weight ; he either admitted entire want of information, or considered himself in possession of the requisite degree of it. This tone of senti ment pervading his lectures, they were most eminently didactic, and were listened to with a thorough conviction of their correctness ; indeed, such was his authority, that it was held- almost indisputable — to oppose it, was to brand one's self with folly. He decidedly preferred studying every thing for himself in the la boratory of Nature, beginning his analysis of the human machine in a dissecting-room, and solving the problem of its disorders and their cure in a hospital. The proposition in every disease he considered as limiting itself to the positive experience of what had done good and what had done harm. His consultations always assumed this character. As his opinions ^ere, for the most part, formed with deliberation, so they were retained with firmness ; and they, like his habits, were du rable to an extreme. This we may account for, inasmuch as they were never taken up on capricious grounds, but always upon the most scrupulous examination of proof He required, too, personal proof, ¦ such as would satisfy his understanding, through his eyes, his ears, and his touch. Naturally exact, systematic, and persevering, these traits were fully developed by his education and training. Not being given to expressions of 'sentimentalities, his cold and steady manner was mistaken by some for apathy : he felt, however, acute ly when not the slightest external indication of it appeared. He was always anxious and excited when preparing for a great operation, and NATIONAL PORTRAITS. when it was finished, spent sometimes the remainder of the day in bed, in order to recover and tranquilize himself. The death of patients not unfrequently laid him up, frora the excess of his sensibilities. Having undergone a protracted illness, which reduced him to a most suffering and debilitated state, he died on the 13th of December, 1837, being in his seventieth year. He was interred in Christ Church burying-ground, corner of Fifth and Arch streets, Philadelphia, vnth the strongest expressions of public respect. iingraTDd br.h V,",.llmi-'tc iiomiRi iMinJ.bj- G Slcvratl immiixs^}) sHiEiPiPiEKr^iL il ^z^^J^y^i "Le^Lj EDWAR D SHIPPEN. In presenting the portrait of the late Chief Justice Shippen, we are sure that we shall gratify, not only his numerous friends, by whom his memory is affectionately cherished, but the public, who are indebted to him for many and important services. He was, in every sense, a son of Pennsylvania, born and educated in the city of Philadelphia, and to his native state he devoted his labors and talents during a long and useful life. He was born on the sixteenth day of February, 1729. His grandfather, William Shippen, was a gen tleman of fortune and family, in the county of York, England ; and his father, Edward Shippen, emigrated to America about the yeai 1675. He first settled in Boston, but removed to Philadelphia about the year 1700, where his character and acquirements soon obtained for him the respect and confidence of his fellow citizens, and led him to various offices of honor and emolument. He became a member of the governor's council, a commissioner of the board of property, a judge of the general court, and was the first mayor of the city. Edward Shippen, the subject of this memoir, followed the honorable course of his father, and fully sustained the reputation derived from him. Having completed his elementary education with distinguished diligence and success, he commenced the study of the law under the direction of Tench Francis, Esquire, then the attorney-general of Pennsylvania. In 1748, Mr. Shippen, having prosecuted his legal studies for about two years, went to London to complete them in the Temple. In our day, this is no longer neces sary ; nor indeed are our American youth required to go abroad for instruction, in any of the learned professions more than in the mechanic arts. After spending two years in London, not in frivolous dissipated pursuits, but in the acquirement of the knowledge of his profession and the general cultivation of his mind, Mr. Ship.pen was admitted a barrister of the Middle Temple ; and he returned to Phila delphia, to commence his career of life, and enter upon the duties of a lawyer and a citizen. He was so occupied, when the war of our 1 " ni NATIONAL PORTRAITS. revolution interrupted the civil pursuits of our citizens, and sus pended, more or less, their private business. On the happy conclusion of this momentous struggle, the depart ments of government, as well as the occupations of the people. returned to their regular action and course. To furnish the judiciary with men of suitable qualifications, as to character and knowledge, was obviously an object of primary importance. Professional learn ing and moral integrity in the administration of the laws, were indis pensable to secure the public confidence for the courts of justice ; and in seaching for them, Mr. Shippen could not be overlooked. He was accordingly appointed president of the court of common pleas of the county of Philadelphia, a place of high trust ; and was also the presiding judge of the court of quarter sessions for the city and county. These appointments were made under the constitution of the state, adopted in 1776. A more perfect organization of the judiciary was made by the constitution of 1790. In 1791, Mr. Shippen was appointed one of the judges of the supreme court, whose jurisdiction extended over ttie whole state, and whose duties and powers called for the highest grade of profes sional learning and talents, as well as of personal character and public confidence. On the election of Chief Justice M'Kean to the executive chair of the commonwealth in 1799, Judge Shippen succeeded him on the bench, and was appointed Chief Justice by Governor M'Kean, who was perfectly well acquainted with the quali fications the office demanded, and with the fitness of the person he selected for it. Chief Justice Shippen continued to perform the duties of his exalted station with undiminished ability, and unim paired confidence and respect, until the close of the year 1805, when the infirmities of age, he being then nearly seventy-seven years old, admonished him to retire to repose. A few months after his resig nation of office, on the sixteenth day of April, 1806, he found his final resting place, placidly leaving the world, in which, from his earliest youth, he had been conspicuous for his virtues and useful ness. The volumes of our judicial reports are enriched with many of his opinions, of great importance; and these are now received with the same respect they commanded, when they were sustained by his personal and official influence and authority. Much of our law which is now well settled, was, at the period of his judicial administration, in a state of uncertainty, long usages sometimes interfering with positive legislative enactments. Principles were to be established suitable to our system of jurisprudence, and con- EDWARD SHIPPEN. structions to be given to doubtful laws. His sound mind, his excel lent legal education and great experience, his cool temper and discriminating sagacity, were all admirably calculated for the per formance of such functions ; and he did perform them in a manner to satisfy his contemporaries, and to be approved and unshaken to this day. Judicial quahfications and services are not of a character to catch the multitude, or to be the subjects of popular applause ; but there is no officer concerned in the administration of the affairs ot a people, whose duties are more anxious and arduous to himself, or more important to the community, than those of the judge. The preparatory education and long study; the painful and attentive experience, which are indispensable for the attainment of the quali fications befitting the bench ; the habits of close and careful investi gation ; the faculty of discovering the true ground of controversy, of distinguishing between real and apparent resemblances, between sound reasoning and ingenious sophism ; the firmness never to yield principles to expediency, nor to sacrifice or disturb the great system of jurisprudence for particular cases; and withal, to hold a perfect, command over every feeling that might irritate the temper or mislead the judgment, present to our contemplation a combination of rare and valuable qualities, deserving our highest consideration and respect. The laws must be sustained with independence and intelU- gence, or it is in vain that they are wise and salutary ; justice must be rendered faithfully to the parties who appeal for it to the judicial tribunals, or it is a mockery to promise them protection and redress. The active, efficient, vital operations of the government are performed by the courts. No man is so high or^o humble as to be beyond their reach ; they bring the laws into every man's house, to punish or to protect them. Such are the responsibilities of a judge. It was on the judgment seat of the law, that the high qualities of Chief Justice Shippen were brought into their best exercise and use. He seemed by nature as well as education to haVe been especially prepared for this station. Patient, learned, discriminating and just, no passion or private interest, no selfish or unworthy feeling of favor or resentment ever held the shghtest influence over his conduct or decisions. Few situations expose the temper to more irritating trials than that of a. judge. He must occasionally encounter ignorance, imperti nence, stupidity, obstinacy, and chicanery, and he must take care that they do not move him from his line of duty. The bland and equal temper of Chief Justice Shippen never forsook him amidst such trials, but, on the contrary, threw a charm over his NATIONAL PORTRAITS. manner of repelhng or submitting to them. The young and the timid advocate was encouraged by his kindness, and flattered by his attention. He knew and practiced the lesson of Lord Bacon, that "patience is one of the first duties of a judge ;" and he felt that he was bound to hear every party and every advocate, before he decided his cause. A suitor might go from his court disappointed by the judg ment, but he could not be dissatisfied with the judge. Of the private character and deportment of Chief Justice Shippen, it may be truly said that he has left few imitators of his manners. His pohteness was of the kind that has its foundations in a well regulated temper and the best feelings of a benevolent heart, polished by a familiar intercourse, from his birth, with refined society. He combined, in a remarkable degree, benignity with dignity, conciliating the affections while he commanded a perfect resp'ect; and, as a valua ble citizen, and an accomplished lawyer and judge, remarkable for the great extent and minute accuracy of his knowledge, he must ever be conspicuous, among those worthies who have won, by their virtues and their talents, an imperishable name. EngrarEdbyJJB.Longacte framaPamUn^liyC isiisnim&3L ©EiE® moiLiLJisriS) 'wsn.aiiiv.Migo (M. /^-^-j-*-^ OTHO HOLLAND WILLIAMS. The military operations of the revolution naturally present them selves in review in two series, divided geographically by the Chesa peake bay ; so distinctly drawn is this line, that in every connected history of the period, from the evacuation of Boston to the capture of Cornwallis, we find the narrative alternately carries the reader's attention from one to the other side of that estuary. This has placed the officers of the army in groups, which are inseparable in our mental associations, and renders the repetition of much historical memoranda unnecessary in this work, in which the memoirs of many of the most prominent actors in the same scenes are brought together ; we shall, therefore, in the present instance, confine ourselves to as brief a space as is possible, with a due regard to the merits of an accomplisiied gentleman^ and gallant soldier. Otho Holland Williams was born in Prince George county, Maryland, in 1748. ' His ancestors were among the earliest emi grants from Britain, after Lord Baltimore became proprietor of the province. At the age of about twelve years, he was left an orphan, but; was protected and educated by his brother-in-law, Mr. Ross. While yet a yOuth, he was placed in the clerk's office of the county of Frederick, and he afterwards removed to the clerk's office of Bal timore. He was then about eighteen years of age, nearly six feet high, elegantly formed, his wbole appearance and conduct manly beyond his years, and his manners such as made friends of all who knew him. He returned to Frederick, and early in the revolutionary war (1775) was appointed a lieutenant in a rifle company, commanded by Captain Price. The company marched to Boston, and his captain being promoted, he succeeded to the command' of it. When Fort Washington was attacked, he had the rank of major, and as com mander of the riflemen, was stationed in a wood in advance of the fort. The Hessians attempted to dislodge him, and were twice driven back with great slaughter. Having been reinforced, they 1 Vol. 2.— K NATIONAL PORTRAITS. made a third attempt, and succeeded in driving the riflemen from their position. In this last attack, Major Williams received a wound in the groin., and was taken prisoner. He was sent to New York, where he was suffered to go at large on his parole. His fine martial appearance, gentlemanly manners, and polite deportment, procured for him civilities that few others were favored with, until a suspicion arose that, being competent, he would carry on a secret correspondence with General Washington, and on that suspicion alone, he was put in close confinement, with ten or eleven other officers, under the provost guard, in a small room not more than six teen feet square, without the privilege of egress, or of having the room cleaned more than once or twice a week. Their provisions were of the coarsest kind, and barely sufficient to keep soul and body together. In that miserable situation he was kept, until exchanged for Major Ackland,* who had been wounded and taken prisoner at Burgoyne's defeat. The length of time he was confined, and the treatment he received during that period, shattered his fine constitu tion, and planted the seeds of the complaint which terminated his existence. During his captivity, Major Williams was promoted to the command of the sixth regiment of the Maryland line ; that division marched to the south, and in all the battles that were fought by that celebrated line. Colonel Williams distinguished himself He acted as deputy adjutant-general of the southern army, under General Gates, and has left a detailed and lucid narrative ofthe dis astrous campaign of 1780, from which we shall occasionahy borrow. • These gallant young men became -warm friends before they parted ; and Gene ral -Wilkinson, in his Memoirs, has preserved an anecdote of the period, which we transplant to our pages, for the double purpose of illustrating our subject, and of ren dering a tribute to the memory of a generous enemy, ¦who ailer-wards lost his life in vindicating the military character of Americans. " On an occasion, after dining -with Lady Harriet, he (Ackland) proposed to Major "Willums to visit an assembly ; they entered, and the attention of the belles and beaux could not but be attracted by two such elegant figures as Ackland and -Williams; but the rancour of civil animosity prevailed ovir the obligations of good breeding, and -Williams was shunned like a pestilence. Ackland made his introduction general, but without effect, and after saun tering across the room several times, 'Come, "Williams,' said he, 'this society is too illiberal for you and me ; let us go home, and sup with Lady Harriet.' " Ackland, after his return to England, at a dinner of military men, where the cou rage of the Americans was made a que,stion, took the negative side with his usual decision ; he was opposed, warmth ensued, and he gave the lie direct to a Lieutenant Lloyd, fought him, and was shot through the head. Lady Harriet lost her senses, and continued deranged two years." 2 OTHO HOLLAND WILLIAMS. After the battle of Camden, all the fragments of the army that could be gathered together were marched off from Charlotte to Salis bury, "constituting," in the language of the narrative referred to, "a wretched renmant of the late southern army ; amongst the rest were six soldiers who left the hospital with other convalescents ; they had all suffered in Buford's unfortunate affair, and had but two sotmd arms amongst them ; indeed four of them had not one arm among them, and two only an arm apiece." Such are the shocking specta cles that war exhibits. After a little breathing time had been allowed at Hillsborough, a board of officers, convened by order of General Gates, determined that all the effective men should be formed into two battalions, con stituting one regiment ; to be completely officered and provided for in the best possible manner that circumstances would, admit, and the command of it given to Colonel Williams and Lieutenant-Colonel Howard. This nucleus of the southern army was encamped at some distance from the town — if the word "encamped" can be pro perly applied to men who were sheltered in " wigwams, made of fence rails, poles, and corn tops." But, notwithstanding this unosten tatious mode of dwelling, by the judicious conduct of the officers, a spirit was diffused amongst the troops which was felt by the enemy in the next encounter. Parade duties were regularly attended, as well by officers as soldiers, and discipline not only began to be perfectly restored, but even gave an air of stability and confi dence to the regiment which all their rags could not disguise. In this encampment, no circumstance of want or distress was admitted as an excuse for relaxing from the strictest discipline, to which the soldiers more cheerfully submitted, as they saw their officers con stantly occupied in procuring for them whatever was attainable in their situation. Absolutely without pay ; almost destitute of cloth ing ; often with only a half ration, and never with a whole one, (without substituting one article for another,) not a soldier was heard to murmur, after the third or fourth day of their being en camped. Instead of meeting and conferring in small sullen squads, as they had formerly done, they filled up the intervals from duty with manly exercises and field sports ; in short, the officers had very soon the entire confidence of the men, who divested themselves of all unnecessary care, and devoted themselves to duty and pastime within the limits assigned them. On General Greene's assuming the command of the southern army, he soon discovered the superior abilities of Colonel Williams, NATIONAL PORTRAITS. and appointed him adjutant-general of his army. In this high trust, he enjoyed the confidence of his general and the army, and fully merited it by his gallantry and his strict attention to his duties. In every action — and they were numerous — he displayed tact, judg ment, and presence of mind. He gained great honor for his conduct in covering, with the rear guard, which he commanded, the memor able retreat of the army through North Carolina. He baffled every attempt of the enemy to bring on a general en gagement, and by checking his advance, gained sufficient time to enable the main body of the army to secure its retreat. The preser vation of that army has been justly attributed to hini for his firnmess, coolness, and able manosuvres. In the battle at the Eutaw Springs, he led that celebrated charge, which gained him the highest honors of the day. At a critical moment General Greene issued the order, " Let Williams advance and sweep the field with his bayonets." Promptly was the order obeyed — the field was swept, but the victory was dearly bought. Near the close of the war, he was sent by General Greene with des patches to congress, and was by that body promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, as a reward for his gallant services. About that period the state collector of the customs for Baltimore, died, and Williams received the appointment from the governor of Maryland. The office was lucrative, and he enjoyed it until the adoption of the constitution of the United States, when Washington appointed him to the same office, which he held until his death. General Williams married Mary, the second daughter of "Wil liam Smith, a wealthy merchant of Baltimore, who had been a member of congress. They had four sons, William, Edward, Henry, and Otho, all of whom inherited handsome fortunes, and many of the fine qualities of their father. William and Edward married, the former Miss Susan Cook, and the latter Miss Gilmore, of Baltimore. The four brothers have all, however, been called to early graves, and the only lineal representatives of the gallant, amiable, and ac complished Williams, are the two sons, and two daughters of his son William, and a daughter of his son Edward. The health of General Williams had been very delicate for many years ; the result of the cruelty inflicted on him while a prisoner, and of the severe service he was engaged in, during his campaign in the south. He died on the 16th of July, 1794, on his way to a watering place, regretted by his country and his friends. nrii,t,-d Iv.- R_W W-i IPrFiISMffll'S ]M)SflIB^SF IBSffllE , M . IB , THEODRIC EOMETN" BECK, M.D. It is not always the men who shine with the most brilliancy before the world, and occasionally astonish our senses with their exploits, who are really the most useful, or the most worthy. The life of a professional man, unlike that of the statesman or the warrior, affords but few incidents calculated to excite inter est, or allure attention. It is not on that account, however, less ¦worthy of record, or barren of utility. The subject of the present memoir, as one of the most suc cessful of American medical authors, seems justly entitled to a place, in a work designed to perpetuate the names of those who have distinguished themselves by their talents or their erudition. Theodric Rombyn Beck was. born of highly respectable parents, on the eleventh of August, 1791, at Schenectady, in the state of New Yprk. His grandfather was the Reverend Theo dric Romeyn, D.D., one ofthe professors of theology ofthe Re formed Dutch Church, and one of its most distinguished orna ments. The rudiments of DoctorBECK's education were received at the grammar-school in his native place ; and, in 1803, he en- tereid TJnion college, an institution which had been established a few years previously, principally through the agency and active exertions of his grandfather. , In 1807 he was graduated, and commenced the study of medicine under the late Doctors M'Clel- land and Low, of Albany. His medical education was after wards completed under the care of Doctor David Hosack, of New York, in which place he attended the lectures of the col lege of Physicians and Surgeons, and obtained from that insti tution the degree or Doctor pfl3!edicine in 1811; on which occasion he wrote and^piiblished an inaugural dissertation on "Insanity." Immediately on his graduation he commenced thc practice of his, profession in the city of Albany. In 1815, he was appointed Prpfessor of the Institutes of Me dicine and Lecturer on Medical Jurisprudence, in the college of 1 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. Physicians and Surgeons of the western district of the state of New York, a station which he held for many years. As this ap pointment did not require his absence from Albany during any very considerable portion of the year, he still continued to prac tice medicine in that place. This, however, did not long con tinue; and in a short time, owing to an apprehension that, his health was inadequate to the arduous duties of practice, and per haps, also, to a superior and growing fondness for literary pur suits, he abandoned completely the practical exercise of his pro fession, and in 1817, accepted the situation of Principal of the Albany Academy. This institution, in every thing but the name, is on an equahty with many of the colleges of our country. With a building dis tinguished for its architectural beauty, erected by the public authorities of the city, and aided by able professors in various departments, under the superintendence of Doctor Beck, it has attained a high and deserved rank among the literaiy institu tions of our country. It is as an author, however, that the subject of this memoir is mainly distinguished. In 1813, he delivered the annual address before the Society of Arts of Albany, On the Mineralo- gical Resources of the United States. This we believe was the earliest systematic account of the mineral wealth of our country, and the production, "which was published, received from various quarters the most respectful notice. In 1832 Doctor Beck published his work entitled "Elements of Medical Jurisprudence," in two volumes, octavo ; which, at the time, attracted great attention, and has since continued a standard work on the subject of which it treats. The science of medical jurisprudence is one of great interest and importance. It treats of all those questions in which the testimony of a me dical man may be required before courts of justice, and from the nature of many of the questions, it is obvious that their discus sion requires the widest range of medical an(J scientific knowl edge. Although deeply studied in Italy, France, and Germany, this science had scarcely attracted any attention, either in this country or in England, previously to the publication of the work of Doctor Beck. To him is certainly due the high credit, not merely of rousing public attention to an important and neglected subject, but also of presenting a work upon it which probably will never be entirely superseded. In foreign countries, its 2 THEODRIC ROMEYN BECK. merits have been duly appreciated and magnanimously acknow ledged. The Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal says of it : " Under the unassuming title of Elements of Medical Jurisprudence, Doctor Beck has presented us with a comprehensive system, which embraces almost every valuable fact or doctrine relating to it. Each of its diversified depart ments has been investigated so minutely, that few cases can occur in practice on which it will be necessary to seek elsewhere for farther information. At the same time, by studying succinctness, and shunning those verbose oratorical details with which other writers, and particularly those of France, abound, he has succeeded in rendering his treatise comprehensive within a singularly mo derate compass. "We may securely assert, that a work on the subjeot is not to be found in any language, which displays so much patient and discriminating research, with so little of the mere ostentation of learning. The opinions ex pressed both on general principles and on the particular questions whiqh have occurred in courts of law, are given clearly and judiciously. There are few oc casions, even where the points at issue are difficult and obscure, on which per sons of skill and experience will be disposed to differ materially with him." In the various medical colleges of Great Britaiu, there has been, we believe, no text-book on medical jurisprudence posi tively adopted; but we have been informed that Doctor Beck's work has been for years recommended to students by professors. In 1828, it was translated into German at Weimar, and has been favorably received in various parts of the continent of Europe. It is not alone the physician and the jurist who are indebted to Doctor Beck for this essential work; but it has proved to the general reader, we believe invariably, a fund of interesting in formation ; and we will venture to say, that no one has ever risen from its perusal without experiencing an agreeable surprise, that a subject so uninviting in its title, should afford somuch amuse ment. The remarks of a writer in Blackwood's Magazine agree so well with our own experience, that we cannot do better than adopt them. " The ignorant state in which jurymen continually come to the consideration of points of medical evidence on cri minal trials, is lamentable. In regard to men of any habits of reading, it is really sinful ; and certainly not the less so, because the works whieh they ought to read and master, happen to be about the most interesting and amusing books in the world." Doctor Beck was one of the founders and active supporters of the Albany Institute, a scientific and literary association, which has already published the first volume of its Transactions, highly creditable to itself and to its members. Of the personal qualities of the subject of this memoir, it is NATIONAL PORTRAITS. perhaps hardly fit to speak. Suffice it to say, he was univer sally respected and esteemed. Unpretending in his manners and studious in his habits, the voice of praise did not render him arrogant or indolent, and the science of his country has been enriched by his labors and learning. So far as relates to the prominent incidents in the life of this distinguished individual, the brief memoir already given is suf ficiently copious and faithful. His career in the march of science and philosophy was prosperous, and remained unchanged by misfortune or reverse. Devoted with a peculiar love to the study of Juridical science his great work on Medical Jurisprudence, has, by successive editions, become a vast repository of precious truths, indispensably necessary to every sound lavpyer, to every medical man who would give proper and safe testimony in cri minal cases before courts, as well as to the enlightened citizen desirous of the promulgation of wholesome doctrines on hygiene and public'health. Nor is this estimate of Doctor Beck's work on Forensic Medicine limited to the opinion of his own country men : European science and its cultivators have favored its wide diffusion as among the surest guides of knowledge as a text-book for colleges and universities of the highest renown in the Old Worid. The long association of Dr. Beck with academic education has closely identified his name with the highest interests of popular instruction in the great state of New York. Thoroughly con versant with the various measures which from time to time were adopted by the regents of the University in the distribution of funds and in the maintenance of public schools, he was after wards selected as the secretary of the board in place of that ve nerable citizen and excellent man,' Gideon Hawley. The Public or State Library of Albany also long enjoyed the suggestions of his wisdom in its Government. It remains only to add that upon the organization of the new Medical College at Albany, and his secession from the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Western New York (now an extinct institution). Doctor Beck ¦was appointed by the Regents to the chair of Materia Medica. Professor Beck was most meritoriously created LL. D. by the faculty of Union College. He was an earnest philanthropist, and the blind, the deaf and dumb, and the insane owe much to his labors. He died in 1855, while president of the Board of the New York State Lunatic Asylum. 4 Engraved by J, Gross from a Piundngty W G. Conanae after Douglas JOSEPH HABERSHAM. Colonel Joseph Haberssham was born at Savannah, in Georgia, on the 28th of July, 1751. His father, James Habersham, was a native of Yorkshire, England, and accompanied his friend, the Rev. George Whitefield, to Georgia in the year 1738. There he soon became the President of the Orphan House, or Bethesda College, established by the exertions of Mr. Whitefield ; for wluch charge he was well quali fied, by his literary, as well as moral and religious character and habits. He was afterwards appointed one of the King's Council in the Colony, and subsequently its President and acting Governor, in the absence of Sir James Wright, in which situation he remained until his death, a few months before the expulsion of the Royal au thority from Georgia, in the year 1776. Although foreign to our subject, it is but justice to the memory of President Habersham to re mark, that, while in office, his letters pointed out to the ministry the orievances under which the Colony was laboring fi-om the pernicious and oppressive acts of the British Parliament, the growing spirit of liberty among the people, and warned them of the consequences of perseverance in oppression. Faithful to his duties, but independent in their exercise, after a life devoted to the service and improvement of his adopted country, he was saved, by death, from seeing that country "made a desolation," his fair possessions wasted, and his sons denounced as traitors. Of these sons there were three, James, Joseph, and John, who all engaged with zeal in the Revolution ; and, reo-ardless of consequences, rejecting and despising all offers of Royal clemency, continued to the end the unffinching friends and active supporters of the republican cause. Joseph, the second son, and subject of this notice, was educated at Princeton College, in New Jersey. Of quick and ardent temper, brave and chivalrous almost to excess, a pupil of Witherspoon, and with the independent spirit which he had inherited from his father, it seems to NATIONAL PORTRAITS. have been almost a matter of course that he should have taken an early, active, and decided part in the excited feelings and deeply in teresting movements ofthe times. Accordingly, on the 27th July, 1774, at the age of twenty-three, we find him a member ofthe first commit tee appointed by the friends of liberty in Georgia ; which, in defiance of the proclamation of Governor Wright, continued to co-operate with similar committees in the northern Provinces, and to excite the people to resistance. When we recollect, in connexion with this fact, that his father was, at that moment, the second officer ofthe King in the Pro-vince, and high m favor, the prominent part which Colonel Habersham took in these proceedings exhibits a deep devotion to the cause of his country, vvhich no infiuence of others, or considerations of a personal nature, could restrain. In the following year, and while his father was still alive and in office, we again find his name recorded among those of a small party of the Republicans, who broke open the magazine, took out the powder, and sent a large portion of it to Beaufort, in South Carolina, for the use of the patriots. In the month of June of the same year he was appointed one of the council of safety- ; and in July, commanded a party of volunteers which went down the river in boats, captured a government ship which had just arrived with mu nitions of war for the royal troops, and took out the cargo, includ- ing 15,000 pounds of powder, a portion of which was afterwards sent to the north and used by the American army before Boston. On the 18th day of January of the ever-memorable year 1776, Colo nel Habersham, who was at that time a member of the assembly, raised a party of volunteers, took Governor Wright prisoner, and con fined him to his house under a guard. The Governor effected his escape, however, from this prison in a few weeks, took refuge on board of a British vessel of war then in the river, and never after wai-ds landed in Georgia. Active hostilities were now fairly commenced in the province. By a resolution of the General Assembly the first battalion of Georgia Continental troops Was raised ; and on the 4th of February, 1776, Colonel, then Mr. Habersham, was appointed Major of that battalion. In this command he did not remain idle ; for, early in March, the British armed squadron came up the river Savannah to recover pos session of the to-wn, which attempt failed. In the defence, Colonel Ha bersham, at the head of a company of riflemen, bore a distinguished part. In fact, he appears at this time to have been prominently en gaged on every occasion in which danger was to be encountered, or the royal authority resisted. JOSEPH HABERSHAM. After the expulsion of Governor Wright, and of the British forces from Georgia, that Province enjoyed a few months of comparative quiet ; during which, on the 19th of May, 1776, Colonel Habersham married Isabella Rae, the daughter of Robert Rae, and sister-in-law of General Samuel Elbert. Upon the taking of Savannah, in the winter of 1778, and the re-establishment of the Royal Government in Georgia, Colonel Habersham removed his family to Virginia for safety ; but his zeal in the cause of his country did not permit him to retire from its service, and accordingly, upon the landing of Count De Estaing in Georgia^ to co-operate with General Lincoln in the reduction of Savannah, he was selected as the officer to guide the French army from the sea-board, and was engaged in the combined attack upon his native city, so disastrous in its results. After the failure of this attack, and the retreat of the American and French armies from the State, Savannah, and nearly the whole of Georgia, remained in pos session of the British, and so continued to the end of the war. At the close of the Revolution, Colonel Habersham returned to private life -with a broken fortune, but rich in the respect and affection of a free and independent people. In the ever-memorable contest which had just closed, it would be invidious to claim for Colonel Haber sham either a peculiar strength of patriotism or of devotion to the cause of the Revolution ; thousands, like him, had perilled life and fortune in that Revolution ; but when we reflect that his father was high in office, and in the confidence of the King ; that he himself, if the Royal authority was preserved, had every prospect of enjoying like confidence and distinction ; that the very wealmess of the Pro vince gave, in the beginning, but little hope of effectual resistance ; and that, in the event of failure, he would, from these very circum stances, become a marked object of Royal vengeance; surely we may be entitled to claim for him more than a common share of devoted patriotism — and such was the portion awarded to him by his native State. In the year 1785 he was elected Speaker of the General As sembly ; and in 1790 was again honored with the same distinction. Ill the year 1795 Colonel Habersham was called, by Washington, to the distinguished station of Post-Master-General of the United States ; and we require no better proof of the able and faithful manner in which he discharged his -duties, than the facl that he retained that office, not only to the close of the administration of Washington, but throughout that of the elder Adams. At a period when so many, from great and devoted service to the country, had claims to office , and these claims, well-kno-wn and appreciated ; and when the selec NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tion -was made by Washington, this appointment was the best e-vidence of his great merit, and the general estimation in which he was held, In this office, as has been already stated, he continued until the ac cession of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency ; but he retained the office so long, by no cringing or truckling to the higher authorities ; for the president, Mr. Adams, having told him that the post-office department was an Augean stable, and must be cleansed — meaning that the post masters who were of the opposite party must be removed ; Colonel Habersham replied, that these officers had discharged their duty faithfully, and that, therefore, he would not remove them, but that the president could remove the post-master-general. This, however, Mr. Adams, it seems, did not think proper to do. The principle, however, which Colonel Habersham refused to act upon was soon after made to act upon him. When Mr. Jefferson became the president, a polite note was addressed to Colonel Haber sham, tendering to him the office of Treasurer of the United States. This offer was received as, no doubt, it was intended to be, an inti mation to him to resign the office of post-master-general, which he immediately did, and returned to Georgia. Upon the establishment of a branch of the old Bank of the United States m Savannah, Colonel Habersham was appointed the President, which office he continued to hold until the expiration of the charter. The few remaining years of his life were devoted to honorable efforts lo repair the ruins of that fortune which had been broken by the Revolution, and in preparation for the close of that life, the greater portion of which had been devoted to the service of his country. His death occurred in his native city, on the 17th day of November in the year 1815, and in the sixty-fifth year of his age. We have said that Colonel Habersham was quick and ardent in temper ; but, although quick to take offence, he was ready and anxious to make atonement for the slightest wrong — ^Idnd and indulgent to his slaves, humane and liberal to the poor, strict in the performance of all his contracts ; tenacious of his own, as he had been of the rights of his country. Allowing to others the same independent and frank expression of opinion which he always exercised for himself, he may with truth be pronounced to have been a fair specimen of that noble, generous, and chivalric race who achieved the liberty and indepen dence of our happy country. ^avedbyRW Dodion frimi afonraiiby L W Morgan Pai wed 5a- die "Naiional Poctrait Galleiy and in possession of James B. Longa.c ^.^^i-'y) cr->^ o-n SIMON KENTON. To many of our readers the name of General Simon Kenton is now probably presented for the first time : he belonged to a class ot hardy pioneers, to whose exertions and privations the present race of civilized man in the west is greatly indebted. He was one of the first white men who planted corn in the now great and wealthy state of Kentucky; as such, we have in his biography to deal with "hair breadth ^scapes," and the usual amount of deadly warfare, which characterized the period of the early settlement of the banks of the Ohio. To preserve from oblivion the characters of men who were the instruments to prepare the way for peopling the western states, is the duty of the biographer. Simon Kenton's memory and brave conduct should be cherished, and his name should descend to pos terity with those of Boon, Clark, and others. Our hero was born in the month of March, 1755, in Fauquier county, Virginia. His father emigrated from Ireland, and his mother was of Scottish descent, her ancestors having been among the first settlers of Virginia. His parents being in middling circum stances, he was employed till the age qf sixteen in the cultivation of corn and tobacco. At that period an incident occurred which changed the destiny of his future life. One of his father's neighbors, named Veach, had a son who mar ried a lady to whom young Kenton was attached ; some circum- stancqi occurred at the wedding, which Simon attended without invitation, that were construed by him into an affront; he was struck during the evening by William Veach, while in the act of drinking ; and not content with this indignity, while prostrate from the blow, William gave him a severe beating, which sent him home with black eyes and sore bruises. He felt himself disgraced, and in silence determined to be revenged. Watching his opportunity, he soon after found himself alone with Veach, -and challenged him (o the combat. He would accept of no apology. Being victorious over his fallen adversary, Kenton, roused by the remembrance of NATIONAL PORTRAITS. the insult to double fury, exhibited so little mercy to his foe, that when his anger was expended he was greatly alarmed at the ap pearance of Veach, whom he thought, from his inanimate features, must be dead Perceiving no signs of returning life, and greatiy alarmed at the consequences of his blind fury, he started for home. By the way, reflection on the consequences of his conduct filled him with alarm; the horrors of punishment, and probably of the gibbet, overcame his resolution of returning, and he resolved on instant flight. Without waiting to see and consult his parents or friends, he struck off in a northwestern direction, and crossed the Alleghany mountains on the 6th of April, 1771. At Ise's ford he changed his name to that of Simon Butler. A prey to remorse at having committed a crime so contrary to his natural disposition, he fell in with three men who were preparing to descend the Ohio river ; and having previously by his labor procured a good rifle, he joined the party, and proceeded to Fort Pitt, (now Pittsburg.) Here he formed a friendship with the notorious Simon Girty, who was the means, at a future period, of his rescue from the Indians when doomed to the stake. The party he had joined being given up, Kenton associated himself with another, and descended the river, occasionally stopping at any point where pleasure or the prospect of game tempted them to halt, hunting, trapping, or dancing with the Indian i girls, until they arrived at the mouth of the Great Kenawha, and thence up Elk river, where they built a camp and employed the winter in trapping. In the spring of 1772, they descended the river to the Ohio, where they sold their peltry to a French trader, and procured ammunition and clothing. , Left now for a year in doubt as to the fact of his being a mur derer, he appears to have conceived that, as he intended no such act, he was in reality not guilty ; his anxiety was all turned upon those whom he had left in ignorance of his own fate. The summer of 1772 was passed in hunting, and the winter in the old^pamp, where in March the party was surprised by Indians, and one of their number killed ; the others escaped with their lives, leaving every thing else to their enemy. With legs and bodies lacerated and inflamed, Kenton and a companion, on the sixth day, met an other party near the mouth of the Kenawha, by whom they were received with kindness. Their wounds being dressed, they entered the employment of Mr. Briscoe, then endeavouring to form a set tlement on the Great Kenawha, contemporaneously with the found ing of Wheeling, Grave Creek, and Long Reach. Kenton again SIMON KENTON. employed his first earnings in procuring a good rifle, and imme diately joined a trapping party and proceeded to the Ohio. After various adventures, we find him, in 1774, when an Indian war be came inevitable, with the other strollers on the river retreating to Fort Pitt. Lord Dunmore, governor of Virginia, having raised an army to chastise the aggressors, Kenton was employed as a spy to precede the troops and report the condition of the country. The army crossed the Ohio at the mouth of the Hockhocking, and cautiously proceeded to the Pickaway towns, on the Scioto, where the natives sued for peace. No sooner was this granted and the troops safely ensconced in Fort Pitt, than the treaty was broken, and Colonel Lewis was sent to enforce the articles or chastise the enemy, and Kenton's services were again in requisition. On his discharge he turned to his old pursuit of trapping, in the course df which, finding a fine cane-growing tract of land back of Limestone, now Maysville, in Kentucky, the party formed a camp, and with their tomahawks cotnmenced clearing a small piece of ground: from the remains of some corn, procured from ' a French trader for the purpose of parching, they selected a small quantity, and planted, it is believed, the first corn on the north side of Kentucky river. Tending their crop with no other implement than their tomahawks, they remained undisputed masters of the soil until the^ had the pleasure of eating roasting ears and of seeing their infant plantation produce the ripened fruit. This spot, called Kenton's station, was about one mile from the present town of Washington, in Ma.son county. On making an excursion in search of buffalo, then roving in vast herds in Kentucky, he met another settler, named Stoner, who advised him to try a spot further south, and he passed the winter forty-five miles from his late residence. In the spring, the American revolution being in progress, and the natives stimulated by the British to destroy the infant settiements, the white men were obliged to flee. Kenton joined Major (afterwards General) George Rogers Clark, sent out by Virginia to protect the settiers. On their return with a party from an excursion, made to bring in a supply of ammunition that had been deposited on an island in the Ohio by Major Cla^-k, they found the people at their, fort in such a state of alarm, from a recent attack of the savages, that it was resolved to abandon it and join the station called Hatred's, where a terrible siege was sustained with unflinching courage, in the midst of alarms and carnage. Kenton again accepted thc office of spy, or .scout. NATIONAL PORTRAITS. and by his faithful discharge of his arduous duties, proved himself worthy of the confidence reposed in him ; he was always successful in giving the fort timely notice of a meditated attack, and to assist in preparing for defence. If we had space to describe the perilous encounters between Kenton and the Indians at this period, our narrative would present a series of daring deeds and courageous effort quite equal to the most renowned in western annals. The sufferings of the garrison were extreme ; their cattle were carried off or destroyed, and neither corn nor other vegetables could be cultivated. Kenton now accompanied Major Clark on an expedition to Okaw, or Kaskaskia, where they surprised the French commander, and took possession of the fort. He was then despatched to ascer tain the strength of the fort at Vincennes, which having accom plished after three days' lurking in the neighbourhood, he sent one of his companions with the intelligence to Clark, while he and an other prosecuted their journey to Harrodsburgh. He then joined ' several expeditions under Daniel Boon, and signalized his courage to the entire satisfaction of that celebrated pioneer. Ease becoming irksome to our hero, in 1778, he joined Alexander Montgomery and George Clark in an expedition to Ohio, with the avowed purpose of obtaining horses from the Indians ; proceeding cautiously to Chillicothe, they fell in with a drove of horses that were feeding in the rich prairies, and capturing seven, travelled at full speed for the river. On reaching the Ohio, the horses refused to breast the surge raised by a high wind. Satisfied that they were pursued, they were about to cross and leave their prizes, but un willing tc abandon their valuable capture, they were endeavouring to collect them for another attempt^ when Kenton heard a whoop which alarmed him for the safety of the party. Tying his horse, he crept with stealthy tread to observe his enemy. Just as he reached the high bank he met the Indians on horseback ; raising his trusty rifle, he took aim at the foremost rider ; his gun flashed, and he was obliged to retreat. Amidst fallen trees, he was in a fair way to elude his pursuers, when a warrior pounced upon him, and a second slipping behind him, clasped him in his arms. Overpowered by numbers, he surrendered after a desperate resistance. Montgo mery boldly attempted his rescue, but was shot, and his bloody scalp exhibited in triumph to the prisoner. Clark made his escape. The captive was treated in the usual brutal manner, tied to an unruly horse, and marched back towards the village. At night hf SIMON KENTON. was laid on his back, his legs extended, drawn apart, and fastened to two saplings or stakes, while his arms were extended and made fast to a pole. A rope was fastened round his neck and tied to another stake. In this miserable state he passed three wretched nights, a prey to gnats, mosquetoes, and the cold. On arriving at Old Town, or Chillicothe, he was beaten in the most cruel manner, and doomed to run the gauntlet. Breaking through the lines of warriors, each armed with a hickory whip, he was about to escape to the town for refuge, when an idle Indian fresh for the chase, whom he met, soon overtook and threw him. In a moment the whole party in pursuit came up, and fell to cuffing and kicking him with all their fury; his clothes were all stripped from him, and he was left naked and exhausted. Some humane squaws revived him with food, and he was taken to the council house to be tried for his life. Sentence of death was formally passed upon the prisoner, and his place of execution it was resolved should be Wepatomika, (now Zanesville.) Next morning he was hurried away to the place of execution, and on the road was severely whipped and maltreated. Attempting to escape, he was caught and more closely pinioned ; the young men rolled him in the mud, and brought him to the brink of the grave. At Wapatomika, among others who came to see him was his quondam acquaintance Simon Girty, who recognised Ken ton, and by his influence and eloquence in the council, persuaded the Indians to give him into his charge. With him he hved a wild, Indian-like life for some time, but the savages having returned from an unsuccessful foray, sent for Kenton, and at a grand council he was again sentenced to die, all the efforts of Girty proving on this occasion unavailing ; he, however, finally persuaded them to con vey their prisoner to Sandusky, where vast numbers would be col lected to receive their presents from the British government; to this place he was conducted by five Indians ; oh the route, the compas sion of the celebrated chief, Logan, was excited in his behalf, and at Logan's instigation, a Canadian Frenchman appeared at the council of Upper Sandusky, who succeeded in having him taken to Detroit and delivered up as a prisoner of war to the British. At Detroit, Kenton was handed over to the commanding officei, and lodged in the fort as a prisoner of war. The British officer gave, the Indians some remuneration for his life, and they left him free from apprehensions of the faggot and the tomahawk. His health -\vas soon restored. Drawing half rations from the British, he earned some money by dint of hard work. Leisure from scenes NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of active life was, however, not consonant with his feelings oi habits, and the winter of 1778-79 passed heavily. Among, the prisoners were some of his old associates, with two of whom Ken ton concerted, in the spring, a plan of escape. In this they -were aided by a lady of the place, the wife of an Indian trader, named Harvey, who had formed a friendship for one of them. By her assistance, guns, ammunition, and food, were procured and secreted in a hollow tree near the town. Early one morning they left De troit. Steering their course by the stars, they eluded pursuit and gained the prairie, where they depended for sustenance on their rifles. In thirty-three days they reached the falls of the Ohio, in July, 1779. Kenton thence proceeded to Vincennes to join his old companion in arms. General Clark: alone he traversed the whole distance without any serious adventure; but finding the fort in a state of inglorious quiet, he returned. He distinguished himself during the invasion of Kentucky by the British and Indians in 1779, having been appointed a captain, and commanding an active and numerous company of volunteers, principally from Harrod's station, who traversed the untrodden wilderness and drove all opposition before them. After the disbanding of his company, Kenton remained in the employ of the several stations till 1782. At this period he heard, for the first time, from his long-abandoned parents, and learned that William Veach had recovered and was still living. He now assumed his own name, and after commanding another successful expedition against the marauding Indians on the Great Miami, he returned to Harrod's, and having acquired some valuable lands, concluded to make a settlement on a fertile spot on Salt river. A few families joined him, reared block-houses, cleared some ground, and planted corn; which being gathered, he concluded to visit his parents. After thirteen years absence, passed amidst scenes of great privation and suffering, he had the satisfaction of finding his father and all his family living. He visited Veach, and their old quarrel was mutually forgiven. His glowing descriptions ofthe fertility of Kentucky induced his parents to accompany him on his return, and the family set out for the promised land, but his father died ere their journey was accomplished. Kenton remained at Salt river till July, 1784, and had the pleasure of witnessing the growth of his settlement, to which numerous emigrants now flocked. He thence removed to near Maysville, where he formed the first permanent SIMON KENTON. station on the northeast side of Licking river. Throngs of emi grants were attracted to the spot: the Indians were successfully kept at bay by the activity and intelligence of the master spirit of Kenton, who was ever foremost when danger threatened, and who was looked up to as the main dependence in case of difficulty or discouragement. His opponent was sometimes the celebrated chief Tecumseh, whose tact and intrepidity it was not always in the power of our veteran to conquer. In 1793, General Wayne came down the Ohio with the regular army, and formed an encampment below Cincinnati, called Hob- son's choice. Making a requisition for men on Kentucky, Kenton was, among the number, placed as a major at the head of as choice spirits as ever guarded a frontier, and was employed in various services. As little was effected by this party, our narrative need not be detained in relating the particular events of the campaign. The Indian war was now happily terminated, and an unprecedented number of emigrants were attracted to the shores of the Ohio. Land became valuable ; and as there was great irregularity and want of precision in. the first entries and surveys, the foundation was laid for those subsequent disputes which have given occasion to a series of litigation, involving the hard-e!arned estates of the original set tlers too frequently in ruin. Although Kenton was considered one of the wealthiest inhabitants in real estate, yet one of his land claims failed after another, till he was completely involved in a labyrinth of lawsuits. Every advantage was taken of his want of education and ignorance of the law, which in a few years stripped this honest man of his hardly-earned wealth, and sent him, in the evening of his days, penniless and dejected, to spend his few remaining years in comparative poverty and want. About the year 1800, he abandoned the soil which he had ren dered tenantable by his courage and endurance, and settled on the waters of the Mad river, in the state of Ohio. In 1805, he was made a brigadier-general of militia. In 1810, he joined the Metho dist church, and experienced that consolation which religion alone can impart. In 1812, when more than sixty years of age, some of his youthful fire still remained, and he was wont to converse with spirit of his former deeds of arms. In 1813, when his old companion. Governor Shelby, came to Urbana at the head of the Kentucky troops, Ken ton could remain no longer inactive. He mounted his horse and joined the venerable governor, who gladly received him as a privi- K4 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. leged member of his military family. He crossed the lake, and accompanied General Harrison and Governor Shelby to Maiden, and thence to the Thames ; was present in the battie, and played his part with his usual intrepidity. Here ended the military career of Simon Kenton, a man who has probably passed through as great a variety of border adventures as any of our most renowned western pioneers. About ten years since, the American government awarded Ken ton a meager pension, which secured him from absolute want in his declining years. His narrative, had it been prepared at length with suitable care, would have formed a volume not less inte resting than the most marvellous fiction. Enough has been here related to exhibit the outlines of a character remarkable for its power of endurance and its intrepidity. Like all the hardy sons of the west, Kenton's hospitality was always commensurate with his means : during his prosperity his house was open to the wealthy emigrant and the benighted traveUer. Many of the descendants of the earlier settlers still cherish the memory of his virtues. The portrait from which our engraving has been made, and which is certified by the immediate friends and neighbours of Gene ral Kenton to be a most accurate likeness, was taken af his resi dence expressly for this work, and but about three months before his death. This stanch pioneer, the companion of Boon, whose adventures he emulated and equalled, died in Logan county, Ohio, on the 3d day of April, 1836, aged about eighty-two. How astonishing is it, when we look over Kentucky, Ohio, and the surrounding states, now teeming with millions of civilized inhabitants, to reflect that one who wandered through them when beasts of prey and the more savage Indian were their sole occupants, has but just faUen into the grave ! 3JAm.mB SIPAMISSo l:',n'.''irivei.l t'oi- Rice &: Hart's N- itioiialportr^iit '.Sa.llery JARED SPARKS. It is a trite remark that the life of a scholar and a man of letters is usually barren of incident, and affords but few materials for the biographer. The scholar's true life is in his works ; the toil which produces them may have extended through a long succession of quiet years, which offer few breaks for the memory to rest upon, and no starthng events that excite the feelings in a retrospect. From the loopholes of retreat, he looks out, upon a busy and agitated world, agitated with events which but partially concern him, and with cares that have little power to vex his repose. But the earlier portion of such a life, especially in this country, often has a pecuhar and touch ing interest. The golden quiet of a scholar's maturer days not unfre quently has to be purchased by struggle and hardship, by many a rude combat with the world, which lays a strong hcild upon us even in childhood, and seems to point out some destination in life quite unlike the cherished object of our hopes and dreams. The record of such a struggle is useful and animating; it may often serve to .invigo rate exertion, and prevent those who have similar aspirations,' and are sorely pressed by circumstances, from sinking into despair. . In his earher years, Mr. Sparks had occasion to write a sketch of the life and writings of Robert Robinson, an eminent Baptist preacher of the last century in England, who was originally a barber's appren tice; and he prefaced it with the following remarks : " That one should go out triumphantly on the tide of life, who is blessed with all the advantages of family, wealth, powerful friends, facihtie-s of education, and incitements to employ them, is no cause of wonder. It would, indeed, be strange if it were otherwise. But, when the sons of obscurity and indigence break from the cloud that surrounds, and the weight which oppresses them; when they enter. on the world's wide ocean without a parent's voice to counsel, or a parent's hand to protect; when the allurements of vice besiege them on the one side, and the spectres of despondency assault them on the other, without shaking their firmness, or turning them from the steady NATIONAL PORTRAITS. purpose of uprightness and perseverance ; and when, in defiance of every other obstacle, they ascend to a proud station among the wise, the learned, and the good, it is then that they may justly claim the respect and admiration of their fellow men, and call on them to behold an example worthy to be praised and emulated. Among the few, who are to be revered for self-acquired eminence, the subject of the present memoir stands in an honorable place." These words may be applied with little change to the author's own career ; a career equally clouded with adversity and hardship at the outset, and blessed with a still larger share of well merited fortune and distinction after the clouds had broken, and the pathway of honorable exertion had become clear. Jared Sparks was born in 1789, at Willington, Connecticut, where he passed his boyhood, with the exception of a few years that were spent in Washington county, New York. Born in vfery humble cir cumstances, he was compelled, while obtaining the meagre rudiments of an education, which the public schools in small country towns then afforded, to work for a livelihood. He labored for a time on a farm, and for a year or more assisted to tend a dilapidated grist-mill and saw-miil, whose slow movements allowed him frequent broken hours over Guthrie's Geography, which by some marvel had fallen in his way. Yet, during this early period, he showed a quickness in study, and an eagerness for procuring knowledge, as may be inferred from the following anecdote, which appeared some time ago in the news papers : " On a late visit to Mansfield, Connecticut, we formed a pleasant acquaintance with an old gentleman, named Holt, formerly a school teacher, who numbered among his pupils no less a personage than Jaked Sparks, the distinguished biographer and historian. Mr. Holt related to us a number of anecdotes and incidents of ' Jared,' as he termed his honored pupil. He said 'Jared was an uncommonly fine boy,' and would learn more in one week, than his other scholars would learn in three or four weeks. " ' One night,' said he, ' at the dismissal of school, I told Jared to remain with me after the others had gone. He did so ; and looking up to me with an inquiring glance, said, ' Master, what have I done ?' ' Done ? too much for me !' said the schoolmaster. " At this, Jared became embarrassed, and begged an explanation. The good man then told him, that he was getting too learned for his master, and recommended him to enter a higher institution. But the youth did not consent, and begged to remain a while longer." JARED SPARKS. Soon afterwards he was apprenticed to a carpenter, with whom he remained about two years. Although he applied himself with dili gence to this new calling, and was in a fair way to become a good workman, yet his mind wandered to other objects. He contrived to obtain a few books from a small village library, ahd his leisure hours were given to reading, and particularly to mathematical studies. At length his employer, perceiving the strong bent of his inclinations, and being a man of a kind heart and generous spirit, cheerfully consented to relinquish the articles of the apprenticeship and to give up the remainder of the time to which he was entitled. The first ambition of the released apprentice was to become a schoolmaster. He passed the ordeal of an examination before a school committee, and was pro nounced competent to take charge of a school in a small district on the outskirts of the town of Tolland. This school continued only through the winter, and for employment during the next summer he was obliged to resort again to the trade which he had partially learned. At this time it was his good fortune to gain the notice of an excellent clergyman, the Rev. Hubbel Loomis, of Willington, whose attention was somewhat excited by the spectacle of a carpenter's apprentice, who was fond of reading Euclid, and solving problems in Algebra ; he kindly offered to give him assistance in the mathematics, in which he was himself well versed. A few weeks afterwards, how ever, by the advice of his teacher, he was induced to extend his studies farther, and to begin the Latin grammar. Meantime, Mr. Loomis took him to his own house, and, in partial compensation for board and in struction, it was agreed that the young carpenter should shingle the minister's' barn, a salutary exercise to fill up the hours of relaxation from study. Hitherto the young student had no special plan for the future. His passion for acquiring knowledge was strong, but his aspirations were not extravagant. A little experience had taught him that he could keep a school, which he looked upon as a high and honorable employment ; and to fill that station with credit and success was the limit of his hopes. He had not thought of going to college, and thus quahfying himself for more enlarged pursuits. But Mr. Loomis natu rally mentioned his case to other clergymen of the neighborhood, and among these was one, who, at this time, and on many subsequent occasions, showed a quick sympathy for merit struggling with adver sity, and contrived to smooth its way to successful results. We refer to the Rev. Abiel Abbot, who died at an advanced age in Peter- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. borough. New Hampshire, but who was then a clergyman settled in Coventry, Connecticut. One day, much to his surprise, young Sparks was called into Mr. Loomis' study to meet this gentleman, who asked him several ques tions, and finally requested him to recite a passage from Virgil. This being done, Mr. Abbot departed. Not long afterwards, Mr. Loomis inquired of Sparks if he would like to go to Phillip's Exeter Academy, and be fitted for College. Of course there could be but one answer to such a question ; but how could he enter an academy without means, and without friends to aid him? Mr. Loomis replied, that this for midable difficulty would not exist at Exeter, where there was a benevolent foundation upon which students to a limited number were ' admitted without paying any fees for tuition, or incurring any charge for board, and added, moreover, that Mr. Abbot, hearing pf a vacancy, had actually procured a place for him on that foundation. No time was to be lost, as the academical term would commence in a few days, and all the students were expected then to be present. Sparks was forthwith despatched to Mr. Abbot at Coventry, for the purpose of signifying his acceptance, expressing his thanks, and ascertaining further particulars. The question was there asked, how he proposed to reach Exeter, a distance of about one hundred and twenty miles, to which he promptly replied, that he should travel on foot. This plan was approved, and as he needed rather more lug gage than he could carry on his back, Mr. Abbot, who was on the point of making a journey to Exeter, kindly offered to convey his trunk by strapping it behind his chaise. This arrangement was exe- ' cuted, and when the appointed time came, young Sparks set forth stoutly on his pedestrian travels in search of an education. At the end of the fourth day, dusty, and, it may be supposed, somewhat weary, but with a light heart, he made his appearance at the house of the principal, of the academy, from whom he received the wel come iritelligence that his trunk had already arrived. At this institution, which; he entered in 1809, Mr. Sparks spent two happy and useful years. The academy was fortunate, not only in the amount of its funds, which still enable it to defray all the ex penses of a number of beneficiary students, but in having the services of a principal like Dr. Benjamin Abbot, who remained at the head of it for half a century, and during that time, by the urbanity of his manners, the kindness pf his heart, and the great moral influence which he exercised over the minds and character of his pupils, acquired a lasting claim to their love and gratitude, and won for JARED SPARKS. himself a name among the foremost of the instructors of youth in New England. While connected with the academy, Mr. Sparks taught a school one winter at Rochester, in New Hampshire. Having completed his preparatory studies, he entered Harvard College in 1811. Here his path was not so smooth as at Exeter. The means of the College for assisting meritorious, but indigent young men were then very scanty, although much enlarged at the present day. But the kindness of President Kirkland procured a Pennoyer scholarship for the young student, and helped him through some remaining difficulties ; and he helped ^himself by the common resource, in such cases, of keeping a country district school during the winter. , But as all these means together proved insufficient, he was obliged to obtain leave of absence during a part of the freshman and sophomore years, which he spen*^ in teaching a small private school at Havre de Grace, in Maryland, procured through the favor of Dr. Dwight, president of Yale College. He was residing at that place when it was attacked, plundered, and m great part destroyed by a detachment from the British fleet, in May,. 1813. As this assault had been apprehended for some weeks, a few preparations had been made to receive the enemy; and Mr. Sparks obtained his only military experience by serving for a short time in the ranks of the militia that were called out to guard the town. The attack being delayed, however, this apprehension had subsided, and most of the troops went home, so that, when the Bri tish actually landed, very little resistance was made. Most of the inhabitants fled to the nearest woods ; and Mr. Sparks and a few others remained as passive spectators of the conflagration and wanton destruction ,of property that ensued. After an absence of fifteen months he returned to college, and graduated with honor in 1815. In alluding to his college course, he has often been heard to speak with the warmest gratitude of the encouraging counsels and assistance, which he received from President Kirkland. After leaving college, the first year was spent in teaching a private classical school at Lancaster, Massachusetts. He then returned to Harvard, and became a student of divinity, chiefly under the instruc tion of the Rev. Dr. Ware, who was then the Hollis Professor. In 1817 the college appointed him to a tutorship in mathematics and natural philosophy, which post he held for two years, still pursuing, however, his theological studies. At this time, also, his proper lite rary career commenced. The North American Review had been esta blished in May, 1815, by the late William Tudor, and was transferred 5 , V3 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. by him, two years afterwards, to an association of gentlemen, of whom Mr. Sparks was one. He was, in fact, the editor, having the princi pal charge of the work, though articles were not admitted till they had been approved by a majority of the association, who held fre quent meetings for this purpose. His associates in this enterprise were Richard H. Dana, Edward T. Channing, Willard Phillips, Na than Hale, William P. Mason, and John GaUison. At this time the professorship of Latin in Bowdoin College was offered to him, which he thought proper to decline, as not agreeing with the plan of life he had then adopted. Having completed his preparatory theological studies, Mr. Sparks retired from the editorship, and accepted an invitation from a new Unitarian church and society, that had been established at Baltimore. Maryland, to become their pastor. He was ordained there in May. 1819. The office which he thus took upon himself was one of pecu liar labor and difficulty, and particularly trying to a young man, who, as y^t, had had no experience in his profession, having but just left the shades of academic life. The Unitarians formed a society, whose religious opinions, imperfectly known, were regarded by all the other Christian denominations with strong suspicion and dislike. The other clergymen of the place, though treating him with great courtesy in private life, acknowledged no ecclesiastical fellowship with the young preacher of what they considered heterodox doctrine ; and he was far removed from the active aid of his brethren of the same faith. The difficulties of his situation were even increased by the eloquent ser mon, which the celebrated Dr^ Channing preached at his ordination, and which contained a bold avowal and defence of the leading pecu liarities of the Unitarian belief. The flames of theological contro versy were kindled anew by the publication of this remarkable dis course, Doctors Woods and Stuart of Andover, and Ware and Norton of Cambridge, with other eminent theologians, taking an active part m the discussion. Mr. Sparks had to perform unaided all the duties of his parish, and to face the whole strength of the opposition which had thus been recently stirred up against the doctrines which he pro fessed. Controversy was a necessity of his position, and he entered into it with earnestness and decision, but without ever losing com mand of his temper or his language. Even his opponents were obliged to respect the dignity of his manner, the extent of his at tainments, and the purity of his hfe. It was a remarkable proof of the confidence and esteem, which his weight of character commanded, in spite of the unpopularity of his theological opinions, that he was JARED SPARKS. elected chaplain to the House of Representatives in Congress, at the session of 1821. The field of controversy was soon opened. Early in 1820, the Rev. Dr. William E. Wyatt, a highly respectable clergyman of the Episco pal church in Baltimore, preached and published a sermon in which were exhibited some of the author's views of the tenets of Unitarians. In reference to this discourse, Mr. Sparks published a few months afterwards an octavo volume, entitled "Letters on the Ministry, Rit ual, and Doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal Church." It was a temperate but thorough criticism of the dogmas and practice of the Anglican church, written in a courteous but earnest manner, and in tended to set forth the principal reasons why the Unitarians could not accept either the thirty-nine articles, or the Episcopalian theory of church government. Thus it was not so much an attack upon Epis- copalianism, as a defence of those doctrines which the writer himself professed. The following year, Mr. Sparks began a periodical publication, called "The Unitarian Miscellany and Christian Monitor," devoted to the same purpose of explaining and defending Unitarian views of religious doctrine and practice. It was published monthly, in a duo decimo form, being designed for general circulation among common readers, and therefore not admitting learned or elaborate discussions. The labor of conducting it was voluntarily undertaken, in addition to all the cares and toil belonging to the ministry of an isolated parish, and -with very little cooperation from others. Mr. Sparks edited it without aid, and in fact for nearly two years wrote the greater part of it himself. It had all the success that could have been anticipated for a publication of such a character, being continued during the whole remaining period of his stay at Baltimore; and his successor in the editorship. Dr. Greenwood, carried it on for two years afterwards. In this work Mr. Sparks commenced a series of letters to the Rev. Dr. Miller of Princeton, on the "Comparative Moral Tendency of Trinitarian and Unitarian Doctrines," which he afterwards published, with many important additions and alterations, in a large octavo vol ume, at Boston, in 1823. Dr. Miller had published a sermon at Balti more, which contained some remarks on Unitarians, that were thought to be unreasonably severe and unjust. Mr. Sparks made some stric tures on the sermon ; Dr. Miller replied ; and out of the controversy sprang these letters, the most elaborate and thoughtful of the writer's theological productions. To complete the list of his writings of this class, we may here men- NATIONAL PORTRAITS. tion the "Collection of Essays and Tracts in Theology, from Various Authors, with Biographical and Critical Notices," in six duodecimo volumes, the publication of which commenced some time before he left Baltimore, but was not completed till after his return to Boston. It was an attempt to bring together, in a cheap form, designed foi general circulation and the use of common readers, some of the most remarkable and interesting shorter works of eminent theologians, which deserve to be rescued from dust and virtual oblivion in the voluminous and cumbersome repositories of theological learning The plan was suggested, as Mr. Sparks states in the preface, by that of Bishop Watson's excellent Collection of Tracts ; though he did not attempt, as Bishop Watson had done, to arrange the several treatises in so methodical a manner that they should constitute a gene ral system of divinity. Some translations from French authors were added to selections from the works of eminent English divines. The choice was made without special reference to the peculiar religious tenets of the various writers. " The only unvarying rule of selection," said Mr. Sparks, "will be, that every article chosen shall be marked with rational and liberal views of Christianity, and suited to inform the mind, or improve the temper and practice. Nothing will be in troduced which violates the Protestant principles of Christian liberty, free inquiry, toleration, and the exercise of private judgment in all the concerns of rehgion." The plan thus conceived was very ably carried out, the selection being made with uniform good taste, so that the \olumes are a desirable accession to the library of every private Christian, be his theological tenets what they may. Among the names of the authors, from whose works selections were made, ac companied with biographical and critical notices by Mr. Sparks, were those of Turretin, Archdeacon Blackburne, Bishop Hoadly, Whitby, Bishop Hare, Wilham Penn, Sir Isaac Newton, Robert Robinson, Emlyn, Sykes, Benson, John Hales, Locke, Watts, and Jeremy Taylor. The publication of the work was completed in 1826. Labors so numerous and exhausting, as those which Mr. Sparks assumed at Baltimore, could not be continued for a long period with out producing injurious effects upon his health. After suffering seve ral attacks of illness in the fourth year of his settlement, he reluctantly made up his mind that he must not only leave his parish, but probably abandon the ministerial profession. In a letter which he addressed to his society, in April, 1823, informing them of this decision, he alluded with great satisfaction to " the perfect harmony and good fellowship which have prevailed, not only between you and your pastor, but JARED SPARKS. among yourselves, from the time you were organized into a separate religious society." In their answer, the society assured him that they had received his communication " with sentiments of the deepest sorrow and regret. It has caused us to realize more sensibly than perhaps we have ever done, the value of your past connection with us, and the magnitude of the loss which we must sustain by its disso lution." " The difficulties generally incident to the formation of a new society," they added, "were in our case peculiarly embarrass ing ; but, by the aid of your talents and exertions, they have been greatly alleviated, and by your example, your counsel, your public instructions, and your writings, we have been taught to encounter and bear them. You have given firmness to our resolutions, energy to our endeavors, and confidence to our hopes." Mr. Sparks left Baltimore early in June, 1823, and spent the larger portion of the summer in travelling among the Allegany mountains, and in other parts of the West, for the benefit of his health. On returning to Boston, he found the North American Review still in the hands of the association of gentlemen heretofore mentioned, and under the edi torship of Mr. Edward Everett, whose brilliant talents and varied accomplishments had contributed to extend and confirm its reputation at home and abroad, as the leading American journal of letters. At this time Mr. Everett was disposed to relinquish the further charge of the work, and '^^^L^ ABBOTT LAWEENCE. In the following pages we shall endeavor to present a sketch of the life and character of Abbott Lawrence, now that the grave has closed over him, and while his virtues are yet fresh in the memory of his countrymen. The name of Lawrence is one of the earliest to be found among the Puritan settlers of Massachusetts. John Lawrence, the first emi grant of the name, was established in Watertown as early as 1635, and may have come over at the same time with Governor Winthrop. He afterwards removed, with his wife, to Groton, where he lived to a good old age, leaving at his death a numerous family of sons and daugh ters. From one of the former was descended the subject of the pre sent memoir. His father, Samuel Lawrence, was a soldier of the Revolution. On the breaking out of the war with the mother country, he was among the first to bear arms, and was one of the little band of heroes who accompanied Colonel Prescott and fought by his side at the battle of Bunker's Hill. His regiment was accordingly in the hottest of the action, being stationed at the redoubt, the principal point of attack. It had nearly proved a fatal day to the young sol dier, who, besides a wound in the arm, had his hat pierced by a musket- ball, which grazed his temples and carried off part of the hair. He remained in the army till 1778, filling the post of adjutant under General Sulhvan at Rhode Island. He was a man of much firmness of character, of unblemished integrity, and of such frank and open manners as made him popular with his townsmen. He lived till 1827, long enough to receive the best reward of a parent, in witness ing the complete success of his children. His widow survived him eighteen years, and many may recall her venerable form as seen by them during her occasional visits to her sons in Boston. As a mother, she had probably greater influence than her husband in forming their characters. She had strict notions 1 Vol. 1.— X NATIONAL PORTRAITS. of obedience, with deeply-seated religious principles, which she suc ceeded in communicating to her children. "Her form," to quote the language of a descendant, " bending over the bed of her children in silent prayer, when she was about leaving them for the night, is still among the earliest of their recollections." Abbott, the fourth son, was born in Groton, on the 16th of De cember, 1792. His education, begun at the district school, was com pleted at the Groton Academy, of which his father had been a trustee for more than thirty years, and which now, in grateful commemoration of the endowments it has received from the members of that family, bears the name of the Lawrence Academy. We have few accounts of Mr. Lawrence's earlier days. In a pass ing notice of them in a letter' of his brother Amos, written many years after, the writer says, " I well remember him as the guiding spirit of the boys of our neighborhood in breaking through the deep snow-drifts which often blocked up the roads in winter." The fear*- lessness and buoyant disposition thus noticed in the boy were the cha racteristics of the man in later life. In 1808 it was resolved to send him to Boston and place him in the store of his elder brother, Mr. Amos Lawrence, who had been for some years established there in business as an importer of English goods. There could have been no better mentor to watch over the warm-hearted and inexperienced youth, thus drawn from his village obscurity to be thrown upon the trials and temptations of the world. It is unnecessary to speak of the character of this brother, now so widely known from a biography which may claim to be one of the most graceful tributes ever paid by filial piety to the memory of a parent. Abbott was cordially welcomed Dy his brother, who from that hour watched over his steps in earlier days with a father's solicitude, and who followed his career in later life with feelings of pride and generous sympathy. "My brother came to me as my apprentice," says Mr. Amos Lawrence, in his Diary, "bringing his bundle under his arm, with less than three dollars in his pocket, (and this was his fortune.) A first-rate business lad he was, but, like other bright lads, needed the careful eye of a senior to guard him from the pitfalls he was exposed to." The following year their brother William came to Boston also, to seek his fortune in the capital of New England. Their father, on this occasion, impressed on his three sons the importance of unity, quoting the pertinent language of Scripture, "a threefold cord is not quickly broken;" a precept which they religiously observed, living 2 ABBOTT LAWRENCE. always together in that beautiful harmony which proved one great source of their prosperity. After somewhat more than five years had elapsed, Mr. Amos Law rence was so well satisfied with the sobriety and diligence of Abbott, and -with his capacity for business, that he proposed to take him into partnership. He furnished the whole capital, amounting to fifty thousand dollars — the fruits of his judicious management since his establishment in Boston. The times were by no means encouraging ; for we were then in the midst of our war with England. But every thing seemed to prosper under the prudent direction of Mr. Lawrence. Scarcely, however, had the articles of copartnership been signed than the Bramble news created a panic that fearfully affected the prices of goods. The stock of the firm depreciated to such an extent that Abbott looked on himself as already a bankrupt. His brother, touched with his distress, offered at once to cancel the copartnership indentures, and to pay him, moreover, five thousand dollars at the end of the year. But Abbott had a spirit equal to his own, and told his brother that he had taken part with him for better or worse, and that, come what might, he would not swerve from the contract. The generosity and manly spirit shown by the two brothers on this occasion gave augury of the complete success which crowned their operations in after-life. But success was still deferred, as things wore a gloomy aspect during the war. Most of the younger men of the city at this time were enrolled in the militia, which was constantly on duty, and liable at any moment to be called into active service. Mr. Abbott Lawrence had joined the independent company of the New England Guards ; a corps remarked for its excellent appointments, and commanded by men more than one of whom afterwards rose to eminence — not, however, in the military profession, but in the law. He was one of the few of the company he had joined who remained long enough on duty to entitle them to the bounty of land in the West offered by the general government. The soldier's life had something in it captivating to the imagination of an ardent, high-spirited youth ; and the profession of arms, in the present condition of the country, offered a more splendid career for enterprise than was to be found in commercial pursuit's. With his brother's consent, he proposed to enter the service, and applied to the War Department at Washington to obtain a commis sion. Happily, before receiving an answer, the news of peace arrived, and all thoughts of a military life were abandoned. Mr. Lawrence used to regard this almost in the hght of a providential interposition NATIONAL PORTRAITS. in his behalf. It was, indeed, the crisis of his fate. The long peace which followed condemned the soldier to an inactivity that left him no laurels to win, except, indeed, such as might be gathered from a skirmish with the savages, or from the patient endurance of priva tions on some distant frontier post. Mr. Lawrence was reserved for a happier destiny. On the 'return of peace, the two brothers saw at once the new field that was opened for foreign importations ; and the younger partner, commissioned to purchase goods at Manchester, embarked in the Milo — the first vessel that, after the proclamation of the peace, left Boston for England. The passage was a short one, but long enough for Mr. Lawrence to ingratiate himself not only with the officers, but with the crew, whose good--will he secured, as one of their number lately informed the writer of this notice, by his liberal acts no less than by the kindness of his manners. With characteristic ardor, he was the first to leap on shore — being thus, perhaps, the first Ame rican who touched his fatherland after the war was ended. He met with a cordial welcome from people who were glad to see their commercial relations restored with the United States. Hastening to Manchester, Mr. Lawrence speedily made his purchases, and returned to Liverpool the evening only before the departure of the Milo on her homeward voyage. He at once engaged a lighter to take him and bis merchandise to the vessel. When he came alongside, the mate plainly told him there was nq room for his goods ; the cargo was all on board, and the hatches were battened down. But Mr. Lawrence would re ceive no denial. This, he said, was his first voyage, and the result was of the greatest importance to him. He pressed his suit with so much earnestness, yet good-nature, that the mate, whose good-will he had won on the passage, consented at last to receive the goods. Mr. Law rence lost no time in profiting by this indulgence, and joined his men in pulling vigorously at the tackle, to hoist the bales on board. Having safely lodged them on the deck, he made at once for the shore, asking no questions how they were to be stored. The Milo had a short passage back. In eighty-four days from the time when she had left her port in the United States, the goods were landed in Bos ton, and in less than a week were disposed of at an enormous profit. His brother was delighted with the good judgment he had shown and his extraordinary despatch. "You are as famous," he pleasantly wrote to him, " among your acquaintances here, for the rapidity of your movements, as Bonaparte." This little anecdote is eminently characteristic of the man, showing. ABBOTT LAWRENCE. as it does, the sanguine temper and energy of will which, combined with kindness of heart, gained him an influence over others and formed the elements of his future success. He remained some time longer in England, extending his acquaint ance with men of business, but still li-ving as an unknown individual in the midst of the scenes which he was afterwards to revisit clothed with an authority that placed him on a level with the proudest nobles of the land. Several times he repeated his voyage to England, and always with the same good results. Under the judicious management and enter prise of the house, its business became every day more widely extended, and the fortunes of the brothers rapidly increased. In June, 1819, an important event took place in Mr. Abbott Law rence's life. This was his marriage with Miss Katharine Bigelow, the eldest daughter of the Hon. Timothy Bigelow, an eminent lawyer, who filled for many years the office of Speaker of the House of Representa tives of Massachusetts. He was a man of high legal attainments, and singularly fitted for his political station by his ready apprehension, his tenacious memory, and his familiarity with business. Mr. Lawrence's acquaintance with his wife had begun in childhood ; for she was a native of Groton, like himself, though, long before this period, her father had transferred his residence to Medford, in the neighborhood of Boston. It was a most happy union, continuing for more than thirty-five years, until it was dissolved by death. In the partner of his choice he found the qualities of a true and loving wife, ever ready to share with him all his joys and sorrows ; for the lot of the most fortunate has its sorrows, and sharp ones. These feelings he on his part returned, from first to last, with the warmth and single-hearted devotion which belonged to his noble nature. During the last five years an important change had gradually taken place in the internal relations of the country, owing to the system of domestic protection which now began to be recognised as a leading feature in the pohcy of the government. The sagacious minds of the Lawrences were quick to perceive the influence this must exert on the channels of trade, and the important bearing it must have, in par ticular, on the people of New England, whose industry and ingenuity so well fitted them for proficiency in the mechanical arts. They leaned, too, with greater confidence than was justified by the event, on the stability of the protective policy. The encouragement was espe cially felt in the cotton and woollen manufactures, then almost exclu sively confined to New England. With characteristic energy, the NATIONAL PORTRAITS. brothers accordingly resolved to give up their business as importers, and employ their capital henceforth in domestic manufactures. Associating their names with those of the Lowells, the Jacksons, the Appletons, and other sagacious men of the same way of thinking with themselves, they devoted all their energies to foster this great branch of the national industry. Under these auspices, towns and villages grew up along the borders of the Merrimac and its numerous tributaries; and the spots which had once been little better than barren wastes of sand, where the silence was broken only by the moaning of the wind through the melancholy pines, became speedily alive with the cheerful hum of labor. Mr. Lawrence had too large a mind to embark in this new enter prise with the feelings of a sordid speculator intent only on selfish gains. He took a more expansive view, founded on just principles of political economy. He saw the resources which this new field of domestic industry would open to the country; the new markets it would afford to the products of the farmer ; the independence it would give the nation of foreign countries, on which it had hitherto relied for those fabrics which were the necessaries of life ; the employment it would give to thousands of operatives in the North, who would find here a field for talents hitherto unknown to themselves; and the benefits it would confer on the planters of the South, in raising, by means of competition, the prices of the raw material they had to sell. These views he exhibited in his private correspondence and his public addresses. He unfolded them more at large in a well-known series of printed letters addressed to the Hon. William C. Rives, of Virginia, which appeared in 1846. In these he discusses the subject of a tariff on the broadest grounds, enforcing his arguments, according to his wont, by an array of statistical facts, some of them exceedingly striking. Instead of limitipg their application to his own part of the country, he particularly directs it to Virginia, the impoverished con dition of whose soil seemed to call for some extraordinary action to restore the ancient prosperity of the State. Above all, he insists on the necessity of the education of the poorer classes, as the only true basis, whether in a moral or physical point of view, of the public prosperity. On this last theme he was always eloquent, urging it in his pubhc addresses, abroad as well as at home, and with an effect which, as we shall see hereafter, was acknowledged by those who witnessed it to have been attended -with the happiest results. In 1827 was held the Harrisburg Convention — a meeting, it is hardly necessary to say, of delegates from different parts of the Union, ABBOTT LAWRENCE. for the purpose of taking into consideration the best measures for pro tecting the manufacturing interests of the country. Mr. Lawrence, whose attention to the subject and the soundness of whose views upon it were well known, was one of the seven delegates sent by Massa chusetts. The large amount of practical information which he brought with him proved of infinite service in the deliberations that followed ; and there was probably no one of the body who was more instrumental in procuring its sanction to the memorial which was laid before Congress, and which had so great an influence in determining the action of the government in respect to the tariff of 1828. Notwithstanding the interest he took in public affairs, and the capacity which he showed for the management of them, Mr. Lawrence had evinced no desire to enter on the political arena, or to hold office of any kind. In 1881 he was elected to the Common Council of Boston ; but at the end of his term declined a re-election. Nor did he from that time ever accept any place either under the city govern ment or that of the State. In 1834, however, he consented to stand as a candidate for a seat in the House of Representatives at Washington. On taking his place in that body, he was at once put pn the Com mittee of Ways and Means, showing that his reputation for financial talent had already preceded him. During the two years that he sat on the floor of that house, he rarely attempted any thing like a set and elaborate speech. When he did speak, it was on topics with which he was familiar ; and his wise and practical views, which he enforced by arguments not local or sectional in their nature, but em bracing the interests of the whole country, commanded the deepest attention of his audience. His frank and cordial address, flowing less from conventional courtesy than from the natural kindness of his heart, conciliated his hearers ; and that "inestimable temper" which Gibbon commends so highly in the British minister. Lord North, dis armed the severity of his opponents, and served, like oil upon the waters, to calm the angry passions of debate. The same qualities gave Mr. Lawrence, out of the walls of Congress, an influence which proved of the highest service to the cause in which he was embarked. When he returned home, at the expiration of his term, there was pro bably no member of the body with which he had acted who possessed a larger measure of their confidence or who was so universally popular. His constituents testified their sense of his services by inviting him, on his return, to a public dinner. This he declined in a letter, in which he touches briefly, but comprehensively, on the great questions NATIONAL PORTRAITS. that agitated the public mind at that day, showing himself throughout a staunch but liberal-minded Whig. Notwithstanding the importuni ties of his friends, he declined a re-election to Congress ; nor could he be induced to alter his purpose by the remarkable assurance given to him by the members of the opposite party that, if he would consent to stand, no candidate should be brought out against him. Four years later, however, he consented to accept a second nomina tion, and again took his seat in the House of Representatives at Wash ington. It was a disastrous session to him ; for, shortly after his arrival, he was attacked by typhus fever of so malignant a type that, for some time, small hopes were entertained of his recovery. But he had good advice ; and his fine constitution and the care of his devoted wife enabled him, by the blessing of Providence, to get the better of his disorder. It left behind, however, the seeds of another malady, in an enlargement of the liver, which caused him much suffering in after life, and finally brought him to the grave. Finding a southern climate unfavorable to his health, he resigned his seat in Congress, and returned to Boston, where he at once resumed his usual avocations. He was not long permitted to in dulge in a state of political inaction. In 1842 the convention was held for the settlement of the Northeastern boundary — that vexed question, which, after baffling all attempts at an adjustment, including those by means of royal arbitration, had at length assumed a form which menaced an open rupture between the United States and Eng land. Mr. Lawrence was one of the commissioners who, at the wise suggestion of Mr. Webster, were sent, by the States of Maine and Massachusetts, to Washington, with full powers to arrange the matter definitively with Lord Ashburton, who had come out invested with similar powers on behalf of his own country. No man in our com munity could have been better fitted for the place than Mr. Law rence; for he had a good knowledge of the subject, was well acquainted with the characters of the parties who were to discuss it, and possessed, in a remarkable degree, the qualities for success as a negotiator. "Mr. Lawrence," said a distinguished foreign minister, who had personal knowledge of his abihties in this way, " had so much frankness and cordiality in his address, and impressed one so entirely with his own uprightness, that he could do much in the way of negotiation that others could not." There was an ample field for the exercise of these powers on the present occasion, when pre judices of long standing were to be encountered, when pretensions of the most opposite kind were to be reconciled, when the pertinacity ABBOTT LAWRENCE. with which these pretensions had been maintained had infused some thing hke a spirit of acrimony into the breasts of the disputants. Yet no acrimony could stand long against the genial temper of Mr. Law rence, or against that spirit of candor and reasonable concession which called "forth a reciprocity of sentiment in those he had to deal with. The influence which he thus exerted over his colleagues con tributed in no sUght degree to a concert of action between them. Indeed, -without derogating from the merits of the other delegates, it is not too much to say that, but for the influence exerted by Mr. Law rence on this occasion, the treaty, if it had been arranged at all, would never have been brought into the shape which it now wears. In the summer of the following year, Mr. Lawrence, whose health still felt the effects of his illness at Washington, proposed to recruit it by a voyage to England. He embarked, with his family on board the Columbia, — the ill-fated steamer which was wrecked on Black Ledge, near Seal Island, in Nova Scotia. All on board were fortunate enough to escape to land. Five days they remained on that dreary spot, exposed to wet, hunger, and miseries of every description. None of that forlorn company will ever forget the disinterested kindness shown by Mr. Lawrence, and his courageous and cheerful spirit, which infused life into the most desponding. They were at length transported to Halifax, whence he proceeded on his voyage. In Eng land he met with a hearty welcome from some who had shared his hospitality in the United States, and many more who knew him only by reputation, but who became his fast friends in after life. On his return home he resumed his business, which pressed on him the more heavily as it became more widely extended. During his leisure he was not so much engrossed by politics as not to give atten tion to a subject which he always had much at heart — the cause of education. Among his many charities, which seemed to be as neces sary to satisfy the wants of his own nature as those of the subjects of them, we find him constantly giving away money to assist in edu cating poor young men of merit. He gave two thousand dollars for prizes to the pupils of the Boston Latin and High Schools. He now contemplated a donation, on a much larger scale, to Harvard University. He was satisfied that, however liberal the endowments of that institution for objects of literary culture, no adequate provision had been made for instruction in science, more particularly in its ap plication to the useful arts — a deficiency which naturally came more readily within the reach of his o-wn observation. In a remarkable letter addressed- by him to Mr. Eliot, the treasurer of the coUege, in NATIONAL PORTRAITS. June, 1847, he explains, with great beauty and propriety of language, his views on the subject, and with no less precision points out the best mode of carrying them into effect. He concludes by offering the sum of fifty thousand dollars for the endowment of such a scientific school as he had proposed. This sum he afterwards doubled by a provision to that effect in his will, thus making the whole donation a hundred thousand dollars. Large as was this sum, its value was greatly enhanced by the wise arrangements made for its application. His suggestions met with the approval of the corporation. He had the satisfaction of seeing a building erected and an institution organized on the principles he had recommended. Fortunately, the services were obtained, at the outset, of an illustrious scholar, who, by the consent of Europe, stood at the head of his department of science, and whose salary of fifteen hundred dollars per annum was wholly defrayed by Mr. Lawrence, in addition to his other donations, so long as he lived. A letter addressed to him by a distinguished professor of the school gave him the sweet assurance, in his last illness, of the extraordinary proficiency of the pupils — in other words, of the complete success of his benevolent enterprise ; and he might well be cheered by the reflec tion that the Lawrence Scientific School would perpetuate his name to future generations, who would cherish with gratitude the memory of their benefactor. Mr. Lawrence was a member of the convention which nominated Mr. Clay for the Presidency. The interest he took in public affairs led him to take an active part in promoting the success of the Whig candidate, as he had before shown equal zeal in the canvass for Gene ral Harrison, though — as the country has good reason to remember — with very different results. In 1847, General Taylor was nominated as the Whig candidate for President, and Mr. Fillmore for Vice-Presi dent. The history of the convention which made these nominations is too familiar to be recapitulated here. It is enough to say that Mr. Lawrence had received assurances, down to the very eve of the elec tion, which gave him every reason to suppose that he was to be named for the latter office. Whatever may have been his disappointment, he did not betray it by a word. "Well, I am perfectly satisfied," was the answer he made to the friend who was appointed to inform him of the result : and, instead of looking for pretexts, as many, not to say most men, would have done^ for withdrawing from the canvass, or at least for looking coldly upon it, he was among the first to join in a call for a meeting of the Whigs in Faneuil HaU, and to address them, in the warmest manner, in support of the regular ticket. In the same mag- ABBOTT LAWRENCE. nanimous and patriotic spirit, he visited the principal towns in the State, delivering addresses and using all his efforts to secure the triumph of the good cause. On the election of General Taylor to the chief magistracy of the country, the confidence he reposed in Mr. Lawrence, and the promi nent position occupied by the latter in the party, recommended him at once to a seat in the cabinet. The place, of Secretary of the Navy was accordingly offered to him, and afterwards that of Secretary of the Interior. Both offices were declined by him ; and when, soon after, he was nominated by the President to take the highest diplomatic post in the gift of the government — the mission to England — he declined that also. The large and important interests of which he had the charge made him see only the difficulties of such a step. The place, moreover, had been filled by distinguished statesmen, two of the most recent of whom stood pre-eminent in the literature of the country; and Mr. Lawrence seems to have exaggerated the qualifications re quired for the post, or, at any rate, to have distrusted his own. From these various considerations, he had made up his mind to decline the offer when pressed upon him a second time by General Taylor, and announced his decision to his friends. But some^of them, taking a very different, and, as it proved, a more correct, view of the affair, per suaded him to review and subsequently to reverse his decision. In the month of September, 1849, he accordingly embarked, with his wife and a part of his family, for England. Mr. Lawrence's mission to the court of St. James was the most brilliant part of his political career, and fully justified the sagacity of those who advised him to undertake it. Taking all circumstances into consideration, few men could have been so well fitted for the place. If he had not the profound scholarship of his immediate predecessors, he had, what was of great moment, a large practical acquaintance with affairs ; a thorough knowledge of the resources of his own country and of the country to which he was accredited ; a talent qiiite remarkable, as we have seen, for negotiation ; a genial temper, well suited to thaw out the chilling reserve of manner too apt to gather round the really warm heart of the Englishman ; a generous spirit of hospitality, with a fortune to support it, enabling him to collect round him persons of most eminence in the society of the capital, and to bring them in con tact with similar classes of his own countrymen, thus happUy affording opportunity for allaying ancient prejudices and fostering mutual sen timents of respect and good-will. A simUar influence was exerted by the public addresses which, from 11 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. time to time, he was caUed on to make in different parts of the king dom, at meetings held to promote the great interests of agriculture, of manufactures, or of educational reform. Coming from a land where the people had made such progress in the various departments of labor and mechanical skUl, and from a part of the country where popular education had made most progress, he was naturally listened to with much attention. The paramount importance of education for the masses was the theme he constantly pressed home upon his hear ers. Thus, at Manchester, we find him dra-wing a comparison between the laboring classes in England and the United States in respect to education, and plainly telling his audience that, "if England hoped to keep her place in the van of civilization, it must be by educating the humblest of her classes up to the highest point of other nations." " The able as well as delicate manner," says an eminent British journal, " in which Mr. Lawrence handled this subject, made a deep impres sion on his auditory, and it had probably no inconsiderable influence in stimulating that highly creditable educational movement of which Manchester has since been the scene, and in which it has stood out in strong contrast to the other great towns of the empire." We find him speaking to the same purpose, in a striking passage often quoted from the speech made by him at Mr. Peabody's dinner at the close of the Great Exhibition in London. A broader field for these popular addresses was offered by a visit which he made to Ireland in the autumn of 1852. The welcome he received from the generous-hearted people was altogether extraordinary. His reputation had prepared the way for it ; and all were eager to see the representative of a land to which their own countrymen were flocking as to a place of refuge from the troubles of the Old World. Well might the Times say that " the American Minister found himself received with almost the honors of royalty ; that railway directors gave him special trains, banquets, and addresses, and every city prepared an ovation." In the midst of this festal progress, Mr. Lawrence was closely ob serving the condition of the country and its inhabitants, and dra-wing materials for an elaborate report of it to the Department of State. The despatch is of much length, embodying his views on the great ques tions of interest touching the state of that unhappy country, the policy of the English government towards it, and its probable future; the whole accompanied by a mass of statistical information, which his position gave him obvious advantages for collecting. This valuable report forms one of numerous despatches of a simUar nature which occupied what was regarded as the American minister's leisure time ABBOTT LAWRENCE. during his diplomatic residence. Many of the papers are of great length, and must have been prepared with much care. Some few have been printed by order of Congress. The rest are to be found on the files of the Department of State at Washington. One has only to specify the titles of some of these to show the variety of the topics to which they relate. Thus, we find one containing curious estimates on the comparative cost of building and manning merchant-ships in Eng land and the United States ; another on the guard-ships for the sup pression of the slave-trade ; another on the commerce carried on with Africa ; two or three on the postal relations of the country, with reference to a reduction of the rate of ocean-postage ; another, the result of much consideration, on the currency of both England and our own country. Besides these communications on particular topics, we find others, of a more general nature, containing a sur vey of the actual condition of England, supported by abundant statistical detail; with ample discussion, on its course of trade, on the character of parties, and the policy of the government. The opportunities of personal observation enjoyed by Mr. Lawrence' abroad served, it may be remarked, to strengthen the opinions he had expressed at home of the necessity of a protective policy by our own government if we would contend successfully against the cheaper labor of Europe. In this survey of the national character and re sources, the despatches of Mr. Lawrence remind one of the reports — relazioni, as they are called — which were made, by order of their government, by the Venetian ambassadors, and which, after being read, on their return, before the Senate, were deposited in the public archives, where they furnish some of the most authentic materials for the historian. Among the despatches are two particularly worthy of consideration, as relating to negotiations that opened the way to important treaties. The first of these relates to the fisheries. No sooner had Mr. Law rence become acquainted with the course pursued by the, English government in sending out a fleet of armed vessels to assert its mari time rights on the coast of Nova Sftotia, than, without waiting for instructions, he at once opened the matter to Lord Malmesbury, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, and urged the mischievous consequences likely to result from an action so precipitate and so menacing in its nature. His remonstrances were of sufficient weight to influence the instructions afterwards issued by the government; and Mr. Law rence's negotiations, which received the approval of the President, placed affairs on the quiet basis on which they continued tiU a treaty NATIONAL PORTRAITS. was definitively settled. When we reflect on the irritation that would have been produced in this country if the ill-considered measure of the English government had been fully carried out, we cannot doubt that the timely and temperate remonstrance of the American minister did much to save his country from a rupture with Great Britain. The other affair concerned Central America — that uneasy question, which, after having been formally disposed of by treaty, has' again risen, like a troubled spirit, to disturb the quiet of the world. The American envoy, in obedience to instructions from Washington, brought the subject before Lord Palmerston as early as November, 1849. He obtained from that minister an assurance that Great Britain had no design to occupy or colonize any part of Central America, and that she would willingly enter into a guarantee with the United States for the neutrality of the proposed canal across the Isthmus. But Mr. Lawrence was quick to perceive that these assu rances would fail to answer the purpose, unless Great Britain would consent to abandon her shadowy protectorate over the Mosquito In dians. He accordingly made this the subject of a particular reprer sentatlon in more than ene interview with the English minister ; and he further urged the abandonment of the protectorate on the strongest grounds of policy in a long and able communication to Lord Palmer ston, dated December 14, 1849. To this letter he received no re'ply, and, early in the following year, it being thought there were greater facilities for conducting the negotiation in this country than in Eng land, it was removed, for a final adjustment of the affair, to Washington. Meanwhile Mr. Lawrence had been diligently preparing a commu nication for his own government — since printed by order of the Senate — the object of which was to trace to its origin the British claim to the exercise of a protectorate over the Mosquito territory. In doing this, he travelled over a vast field of historical research, showing the first occupation of the territory by the Spaniards, its subsequent invasion by the English, and estabhshing, to the conviction of every unprejudiced mind, that Great Britain never did possess any legal right to the qualified dctmlnlon which she claimed as protector of the Indians ; and that, if she had possessed it, this would signify nothing, since, by an express treaty with Spain, she had formally renounced such right. By a singular coincidence, this remarkable state-paper is dated on the 19th of April, 1850, being precisely the same date with that of the Clayton-Bulwer treaty. This latter instrument, confining itself to the simple object of a guarantee for a canal across the Isthmus, makes no provision for the ABBOTT LAWRENCE. Mosquito question, though by an incidental allusion it appears to re cognize the existence of a protectorate. Indeed, It seems to have done nothing more than carry out the details of the arrangement to which Lord Palmerston professed his readiness to accede in his first commu nication to Mr. Lawrence. But, as the latter wisely foresaw, so im portant an element in the discussion as the Mosquito protectorate could not be winked out of sight ; and, as it now appears, the absence of so material a link in the chain. of negotiations has made the other provisions of the treaty of little worth. The pressing nature of Mr. Lawrence's private affairs made him at length, after an absence of three years, desirous of returning home. Indeed, he could not have postponed his return so long but for the faithful and able manner in which his eldest son, to whom he had committed the charge of his property, had executed that trust, thus relieving his father, as the latter often remarked, of all anxiety in regard to his own affairs, and enabling him to give undivided attention to those of the public. Having obtained the President's consent, Mr. Lawrence resigned his place as envoy from the United States on the 1st of October, 1852, and bade adieu to those shores where he had landed almost a stranger, but where he now left a host of friends ; where the kindness of his heart, the charm of his manners, and his elegant hospitality, had made his mission as acceptable to the English as the able and conscientious manner in which it was conducted ren dered it honorable to himself and his country. The citizens of Boston had made preparations for giving him such a brUliant reception on landing as might show their sense of his ser vices. IJnhappily, the time of his return was also that of the death of Mr. Webster. Mr. Lawrence proceeded to Marshfield the day after his arrival ; and his first meeting with many of his friends and townsmen was at the celebration of the funeral obsequies of the great statesman. When a decent time had elapsed, his friends resumed their purpose of a complimentary dinner. But Mr. Lawrence, with much dehcacy, declined their invitation, saying that " he should seem want ing in respect for the dead, as weU as consideration for the living, were he to accept a festive entertainment at such a season of mourning." He now resumed his former way of life, and was to be found at the regular hours at his accustomed place of business. The complexion of the times was most unfavorable to both the cotton and wooUen manufactures. Great advances were required to be made for the completion of works in which Mr. Lawrence was largely interested. It was difficult to obtain such advances in the depressed state of the 15 NATIONAL PORTRAITS. stocks. With his usual spirit, Mr. Lawrence came forward to the rescue, and not only bore his own share of the subscription, but took stock to the amount of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars more, though in doing so he sacrificed half that amount, the stock having fallen fifty per cent, in the market. But Mr. Lawrence, though he gave a general supervision to his affairs, left the conduct of them to his younger partners, whose expe rience well qualified them for the task. He did not possess, indeed, the same strength of constitution and physical energy that he once had. Perhaps for that reason, though he still maintained a warm interest in public affairs, with the exception of his efforts in the can vass for General Scott as President, he took no active part in politics. He still showed the same zeal as ever in the cause of education, and watched with the deepest interest over the rising fortunes of the Scientific School which he had founded at Cambridge. His labors in behalf of learning were fully appreciated by his countrymen, one proof of which is afforded by the literary honors bestowed on him by the principal academies and colleges throughout the State. Thus loved and respected by the community in which he lived, with , a fortune that enabled him to gratify his munificent disposition, and a heart fitted by nature for the pleasures of friendship, and above all for the sweet intercourse of home, Mr. Lawrence might reasonably promise himself that serene enjoyment for the evening of his days which should wait upon the close of a well-spent life. Alas ! no such happiness was in store for him. In September, 1854, he was visited by a return of the malady the seeds of which had lingered in his constitution ever since his illness at Washington. A second attack, a few weeks later, whUe passing some days on his famUy estate amidst the beautiful scenery of Groton, left him in a precarious state of health, from which he did not entirely rally till the winter was far advanced. Even then, although he re covered the natural buoyancy of his spirits and again mingled in society, the indications of suffering in his countenance, and the loss of his accustomed vigor, were just causes of apprehension to his friends. His physician advised change of climate, and recommended to him a voyage to England, associated as it was in his mind with so many pleasant recollections. Early in June, 1855, he accordingly secured a passage for himself and Mrs. Lawrence in one of the British steamers ; but, two days after, his malady returned, accom panied with such intense pain that he took to his bed— from which he was never more to rise. 16 ABBOTT LAWRENCE. It would be painful to follow him through the long and wearisome summer, during which he was sensibly losing ground day after day, yet with occasional intervals of ease that seemed to give promise that the disease was arrested. No one will forget the extraordinary interest shown on that occasion by all classes, and the eagerness with which they endeavored to draw from the physicians some encouragement for their hopes. A more remarkable proof of the hold he had upon the community was the daily announcement of the state of his health in the public journals, — a tribute the more touching that he held no offi cial position to call it forth. It was the homage of the heart. During the long period of his confinement, his sufferings served only to show the sweetness of his disposition. The circumstances which filled those around him with wretchedness and with apprehensions they could Ul disguise had no power to disturb his serenity. He loved life. No man had greater reason to love it ; for he had all that makes life valuable. Bijt, as his hold loosened upon it, no murmur, no sigh of regret, escaped his lips; while he bowed in perfect submission to the will of that Almighty Father who had ever dealt with him so kindly. As his strength of body diminished, that of his affections seemed to Increase. He appeared to be constantly occupied with thoughts of others rather than of himself; and many a touching in stance did he give of this thoughtfulness and of his tender recollection of those who were dear to him. The desire of doing good, on the broadest scale, clung to him to the last. Not two weeks bef6re his death, he was occupied with arranging the plan of the model- houses for the poor, for which he made so noble a provision In his wiU. His last hours were cheered by the assurance, as we have elsewhere noticed, that his wise and generous provisions for promoting a more scientific culture at Cambridge were crowned with entire suc cess. He was dying with every thing around him to soften the bit terness of death — above aU, with the sweet consciousness that he had not lived in vain. On the 18th of August, 1855, a few months before he had completed his sixty-third year, he expired, and that so gently that those around could not be sure of the precise moment when his spirit took its flight. The tidings of Mr. Lawrence's death, though not unexpected, feU hke some startiing calamity on the ears of the community. A meet ing of the citizens was at once called to express their sense of this great pubhc bereavement. It assembled in FaneuU Hall— that haU where the manly tones of his own voice had been so often raised in maintenance of the right, but which now echoed only to the sounds of 2 17 , Vot.l.-Y NATIONAL PORTRAITS. lamentation, as more than one gifted orator poured forth an eloquent and touching tribute to the virtues of the deceased. The sympathies of the community were called forth stUl more strongly on the day of the funeral, when the sad countenances and moistened eyes of the vast multitude that attended the services showed how truly they felt the death of Mr. Lawrence, not merely as a great pubhc calamity, but as something personal to themselves. Every honor that could be paid to his memory was eagerly rendered by the authorities of the city on this occasion. The day was celebrated as a day of pubhc mourning. The beUs tolled in the principal churches. The flags of the shipping were at half-mast. Minute-guns were fired. The places of business were closed in many parts of the town, and all along the road which conducted to the cemetery of Mount Auburn. As the spectator gazed on the long company of mourners taking their way through files of the soldiery, who lined the streets as far as the ¦ bridge which unites Boston to Cambridge, he might well have called to mind the time when the object of all this homage first came to town, over this same avenue, a poor country-lad, with only a few dollars in his pocket and but one friend In that strange capital to welcome him. That friend was his brother, Amos Lawrence, who, only three years since, had been borne to Mount Auburn, amidst the tears and regrets of the whole community. StiU another brother — William, of whom mention has been made in an early part of this memoir — had preceded them both on the same dark journey. Like them, he had come to Boston to seek his fortune, which, when gained, he employed, like them, in acts of beneficence and mercy. The " threefold cord" to which their father had so wisely alluded was indeed broken. But it was by the hand of Death. And in that beautiful cemetery, where are gathered the ashes of so many of the good and the great, the three brothers, who loved one another through life so well, now sleep side by side and rest in peace from their labors. A notice of Mr. Lawrence would not be complete without some mention of the legacies left by him for charitable purposes, so much in harmony with the general course of his life. Besides doubhng the amount given in his lifetime to the Scientific School, he bequeathed the sum of fifty thousand dollars for the erection of model lodging-houses for the poor, providing with great minuteness and discretion such regu lations as would accompHsh the object he had in view. In addition to these munificent bequests, he left ten thousand doUarsto the Pubhc Library of the city of Boston, and smaUer legacies to different institu- 18 ' ABBOTT LAWRENCE. tions, making the whole amount of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars de-rised' for public objects. These were the last acts of a life of benevolence. Such are the outlines of the history of a Boston merchant — of one -who, by the energy of his character and the winning frankness of his manners, acquired a remarkable ascendency over all with whom he came in contact ; who supplied the deficiencies of early education by an assiduous diligence that made him eminent in after-life both as a pubhc speaker and a political writer ; whose conduct was controlled by settled religious principles, that made him proof alike against the intrigues of party and the blandishments of a court ; who regarded every subject with those large and enlightened views which gave dignity to his profession and raised him to high consideration as a diplomatist and a statesman ; who, blessed by nature with a sunny temper and a truly loving heart, was the delight of his friends and an object of httle less than idolatry to his o-wn family; and who, holding the large property he had acquired by his own efforts as a trust for the good of his fellow-men, dispensed it in those noble charities which have gained him a high place among the benefactors of mankind. 19 mAUnmiL ^"-iS-^ssmnisio -ci ajicordme toy. )1 Oc - ^ A-Nilart i thi clerics atlice i r pjaawa iisma,j] EngravedhyZ Ted, Daguerreotyped hy E Gumey TfiTMIfEaSilD) g©(S''E'^'o /ut J'/ii'^r^/i£t:^ Sn^mt'oz- ^ly W(27a':^.'7?.aJ7 .Oo ¦¦¦l^.^A^c^j So aToTi-HSriCM®!®.!! ©®®IPIiIEo J 7C^it^*t/u^* - FtOTttcd. 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