YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY The EDWIN J. BEINECKE, '07 FREDERICK W. BEINECKE, '09 S WALTER BEINECKE, '10 FUND This book was digitized by Microsoft Corporation in cooperation with Yale University Library, 2008. You may not reproduce this digitized copy of the book for any purpose other than for scholarship, research, educational, or, in limited quantity, personal use. You may not distribute or provide access to this digitized copy (or modified or partial versions of it) for commercial purposes. AMERICAN' . ",y* - • MILITARY )t American Military and Political Biography, jk,c. &c. None, however, . have combined all the several departments embiaced in the present work, which includes not only the lives of the distinguished Military and Naval Officers, both native and foreign, who fought our battles; but also the Bio-' graphies of many of those eminent statesmen whose wisdom in council, and fortitude in trying emergencies contributed in a very great degree^ un der divine providence, to conduct our country through the perils and storms, ¦ of the Revolution. While, therefore, we hold up the names of Washing ton, Warren, Lafayette, and their brave companions, to the admiration of posterity, we should never forget that John Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, and their coadjutors in the cabinet, have equal claims upon our admiration. Contrasted with these brilliant names stands the character of Arnold, the,, detestation of whose treachery should be'"' burnt in on the memory of every American by the immortal' fires of poetry" and history. In this volume he circumstances of his meditated treason, and the capture, trial, and ex ecution of major Andre, are more fully detailed than in many ofthe works which have treated of this subject, Entered according to act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and thirty-two, by A. Salisbury, in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the District of Ohid CONTENTS INTRODUCTION. Pag*. Summary view of ti.e causes which led to the American Revolution, 5 PART I. 'fc AMERICAN MILITARY OFFICERS. 1 ^George Washington, Esq. Commander-in-Chief ofthe American Army, -- .'...'. . 47 t Joseph Warren, Major-General in the American Army, 76 , Nathaniel Greene, Major-General in the American Army, - 88 Horatio Gates, Major-General in the American Army, - - 113 1 Richard Montgomery, Major-General in the American Army, - 134 1 Israel Putnam, Major-General in the American Army, . - 134 . Henry Knox, Major-General in the American Army, ~ - 151 Arthur St. Clair, Major-General in the American Army, 158 Anthony Wayne, Major-General in the' American Army - 164 Philip Schuyler; Major-General in the American Army - 174 Charles Lee, Major-General in the American Army, - - 181 William Moultrie, Major-General in the American Ar«ny, - 189 Thomas Mifflin, Major-General in the American Army, - - 193 John Sullivan, Major-General in the American Army, 194 Benjamin Lincoln, Major-General in the American Army, - - 199 Hugh Mercer, Mpjor-General in the American Army, - - 206 William Heath, Major-General in the American Army, - - 208 William Alexander, Major-General in the American Army, - 217 -James Clinton, Major-General in the American Army, - - 219 Thomas Conway, Major-General in the American Army, - 224 ¦ Ethan Allen, Brigadier-General in the American Army, - 226 1 John Cadwalader, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 232 •George Clinton, Brigadier-Gfineral in the American Army, - 234 i William Davidson, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 238 Christppher Gadsden, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 241 Daniel Morgan, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 246 John Stark, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 253 Otho H. Williams, Brigadier-General in the American Army, 261 "Peleg Wadsworth, General of the Massachusetts Militia, - '264 Timothy Pickering, Colonel in the American Army, - 270 William Washington, Colonel in the American Army, - - 279 Heijjy Lee, Colonel in the American Army, - 281 JohffLaurens, Colonel in the American Army, ... 283 Seth Warner, Colonel in the American Army, - - 287 Isajic Jtayne, Colonel in the American Army, - 295 John Eagar Howard, Colonel in the American Army, - - 298 William Richardson Davie, Colonel-Commandant of the state Ca- „ valry of North Carolina, - ... 300 Henry 'Dearborn, Colonel in the, American Army, - - 304 Joseph Reed, Adjutant-General in the American Army, - 309 ?eter Horry, Colonel in the American Army, - - 312 CONTENTS. John James, Major in the American Army, - *. - - - 3i,, « Evan Edwards, Major in fhe American Army, " 31(h Nathan Hale, Captain in tha American Army,, - 317 Francis Marion Colonel in the American Army,' - - 320 William Jasper, Sergeant in Marion's Brigade, - - - 344 PART II. FOREIGN OFFICERS IN THE AMERICAN SERVICE. Gilbert Motier Lafayette, Major-General in the American Con tinental Army, - . - - - - - - 350 j Baron De Steuben, Major-General in the American Army, - 37T Count Kosciusko, Colonel in the American Army, - 385 Count Pulaski, - - 396 Baron-De'Kalb, ..... ... 403.' PART III. NAVAL OFFICERS IN THE AMERICAN SERVICE. John Paul Jones, Commodore in the American Navy, - - 410; John Barry, Commodore in the American Navy, - '- - 425 Nicholas Biddle, Commodore in the American Navy, - - 428 Edward Preble, Commodore in the American Navy, - - - 430 Thomas Truxton, Commodore in the American Navy, - - 452 PART IV. > EMINENT AMERICAN STATESMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. Benjamin Franklin, " - - ... 457 JohnAdams, ... . . . 474 Thomas Jefferson, - 490 Roger Sherman, ...... 510 Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, - ... - . 519 1 Daniel Boone, the first settler of Kentucky, - 525 John Witherspoon, . - - - 535* John Hancock, - - - . - 545 Alexander Hamilton, Inspector-General in the American Army, 551 Samuel Adams '¦--'¦- 577 Richard Henry Lee, - - - - - - 585 The life and character of Benedict Arnold, and the circumstances' * of the capture, , trial, and execution of Major Andre,. - 592. x INTRODUCTION. SUMMARY VIEW OF THE EVENTS AND CAUSES WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. Persecution peopled America. "God," says the pious Staughton, "sifted: the chaff of three kingdoms for the grain with which to sow the wilds of America." ' The pious pilgrims and the hardy emigrants however, who first planted the Ameri can continent, and most of their successors who laid the foundar tion of our government on the basis of civil and religious liberty, have found a resting place in the grave. But their virtues, such as patience in days pf suffering; courage and zeal in asserting and maintaining their rights; and the wisdom evinced in laying the foundation of our government will be held in grateful re membrance. It has, indeed, been said, that the settlement of America, and the history of her revolution are becoming "a trite theme." The remark is not founded in truth-. Too well does the present generation appreciate the excellence of those men, who guided the destinies of our country in days of bitter trial; too well does it estimate the glorious events, which have exalted these United States to their, present elevation, ever to be weary of the pages which shall record the virtues of the one, and the interesting character of the other. The minuter portions|©f our history, and the humbler men who have acted a part therein, must, perhaps^ pass into oblivion. But the more important transactions, and the more distinguished characters, instead of being lost to the remembrance and affec tions of posterity, will be the more regarded and admired the farther "we roll down the tide of time." " Indeed, "an event of real magnitude in human history," as a recent literary journal has well observed, "is never seen, in all its grandeur and importance, 2 . 6 INTRODUCTION. till some time after its occurrence has elapsed. In proportion as the memory of small men, and small things, is lost, that of the truly grfeat becomes more bright. The contemporary aspect of things is often confused and indistinct. The eye, which is pla ced too near the canvass, beholds, too distinctly, the separate touches of the pencil, ag^d is perplexed with a cloud of seemingly discordant tints. It is only at a distance, that they melt into a harmonious, living picture." Nor does it detract from the honor of the eminent personages, who were conspicuous in the transactions of our earlier history, that they foresaw not all the glorious consequences of their ac tions. Not one of our pilgrim fathers, it may be safely conjec- tiiredj had a distinct anticipation of the future progress of our country. NeitheT &mith, Newport, nor Gosnold, who led the emigrants of the south; nor Carver, Brewster, Bradford, or Standish, who conducted those of the north; looked forward to results like those which are witnessed by the present generation. But is the glory of their enterprise thereby diminished? By no means; it shines with an intenser light. Tbey foresaw nothing With certainty, but hardships and sacrifices. These, they delib erately and manfully encountered. They went forward unassu red, that even common prosperity would attend their enterprise. They hreasted themselves to every shock; as did the vessel which bore them, to the waves of the ocean. In a work, whose professed object is, to speak of men who lived and flourished in the. days of our revolutionary struggle, we have little to do with the motives which induced the first setflers of our country to seek an asylum in what was then an unexplored wilderness. Nor is this the place to record the thousand sufferings which they endured, before the era of their landing; or their numberless sorrows and deprivations, whilst establishing themselves in the rude land of their adoption. The heroic and christian virtues of our fathers will occupy a conspic uous page in history, while the world shall stand. m The year 1607JS the era of the first settlement of the English in America. During the interval between this date, and the year 1732, thirteen colonies Were established; Virginia being the 'first, and Georgia the last. The others were Massachusetts, Connecticut, New-ftampshire, Rhode-Island, New- York, New- INTRODUCTION. 7 Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and the two Car olinas. In the settlement of these colonies, three forms of government were established. These were severally denominated, charter, proprietary, and royal governments. Tliis difference arose from the different circumstances which attended the settlement of different colonies, and the diversified views of the early emi grants. The charter governments were confined to NewEng- Jand. The proprietary governments were those of Maryland, Pennsylvania, the Carolinas, and the Jerseys. The two former remained such, until the American revolution; the two latter he- came royal governments long before that period. In the char ter governments, the people enjoyed the privileges and powers *>f self government; in the proprietary 'government these priyij&- ges and powers were vested in the proprietor, but he was requi red to have the advice, assent, and approbation of the greater part ofthe freemen, or their deputies; in the royal governments, the governor and council were appointed by the crown, and the, peo ple elected representatives to serve in the colonial legislatures.* The colonies, with the exception of Georgia, had all been es tablished, and had attained to considerable strength, without even the slightest aid from the parent country. Whatever was expended in the acquisition of territory from the Indians, pro ceeded from the private resources of the European adventurers. Neither the crown, nor the parliament of England, made any compensation to the original masters of the soil; nor did they in any way contribute to those improvements which so soon bore testimony to the industry and intelligence of the planters. The settlement of the province of Massachusetts Bay alone cjqst 200,- 000/.; — an enormous sum at that period. Lord Baltimore ex pended 40,000/., for his contingent, in the establishment of his colony in Maryland. On that of Virginia, immense wealth was lavished; and we are told by Trumbull,, that the first planters of Connecticut consumed great estates in purchasing lands from the Indians, and making their settlements in that province, in ad dition to large sums previously expended in the procuring of their patents, and of the rights of pre-emption.! ?Pitkin, fWalsh. 8 INTRODUCTION. It is conceded by historians of every party, that from the ear liest settlements in America, to the period of the revolution, the parent country, so far as her own unsettled state would "permit, pursued towards those settlements a course of direct oppression. Without the enterprise to establish colonies herself, she was ready, in the very dawn of their existence, to claim them as her legitimate possessions, and to prescribe, in almost every minute particular, the policy they should pursue. Her jealousies, co eval with the foundation of the colonies, increased -with every succeeding year; and led to a course of arbitrary exactions, and lordly oppressions,- which resulted in the rupture of those ties that bound the colonies to the parent country... No sooner did the. colonies,emerging from- the feebleness and poverty of their incipient state, begin to direct their attention to commerce and manufactures, than they were- subjected by the parent country to many vexatious regulations, which seem ed to indicate, that with regard to those subjects, they were ex pected to follow that line of policy, which she in her wisdom should mark out for them. At every indication of colonial prosperity, the complaints of the commercial and manufacturing interests in Great Britain were loud and clamorous, and repeat ed demands were made upon the British government, to-correct the growing evil, and to keep the colonies in- present circumstances of the colonies ;-r-the acts of parliament laying duties and, taxes upon them; "and to consider of a, general and humble address to his majesty and the parliament for relief." , The measure thus proposed by Massachusetts, on being com municated to the several colonies, was received with cordial ap- probatioh by most pf them; and on the 7th of October, 1765, commissioners from the colonies of Massachusetts, Rhode-Island, Connecticut, New- York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland,- and South Carolina, met at New- York, oh the im portant and responsible business assigned them. This congress, the first that was ever held in America, pub lished, as the result of their deliberation, a declaration ofthe rights and grievances of the colonists; and agreed upon a memo rial to the1 house of lords* and a petition to the king and com mons. The address and petition, agreed to by this congress, were at this time signed by the commissioners from six colonies only. . But their proceedings were warmly approved in every quarter ofthe country; and at a subsequent date, received the sanction Of the assemblies, not only of South Carolina, Connecticut, and New-York, but of those colonies which had not been represented in the congress. While the highest assemblies were thus bearing their official and solemn testimony against the oppressive and unconstitutional acts of the British parliament ; the people, in every section of the country, and especially inthe principal towns, were manifesting their abhorrence of those measures, in a different, but not less decisive way. On the morning of the 14th of August, two effigies were dis covered hanging on the branch of an old elm, near the south en trance of Boston. One ef these represerited a stamp office; the Other, a jack boot, out -of which rose a horned head, which ap peared to be looking round. The singularity of J:his spectacle soon attracted the notice ef great numbers; and before evening, the ccllectien ampunte.d to a multitude. The images were then taken down, placed upon a bier, and carried in procession with imposing solemnity; At INTRODUCTION. 23 a distance, in the rear, the multitude followed, shouting — "lib-! erty and prosperity forever— -no stamps!" Arriving in front of a house, owned by one Oliver, which was supposed to be a stamp office, they levelled it to the ground; and proceeding to his place of residence, they beheaded his effigy, and broke in the windows of his house. Oliver himself effected a timely escape; but his fences, the furniture of his house, and its dependencies, were destroyed.- It was midnight before the multitude dispersed. Iri the mOrning of the next day, the people fe-assembled, and were proceeding to a repetition of their excesses, but upon hear ing that Oliver had sent his resignation to England, they desist ed, and repairing to the front of his house, they gave three cheers, and quietly. returned to their hemes. On the first day ef November^ the stamp- act was to gp into pperation. As it drew near, the feelings of the colpnists became mere and mpre intense; less ponular noise and clamor were, per haps, to be heard; but a deep and settled hostility to the act had taken possession of every breast.' On the 5th of October, the ships which brought the stamps appeared in sight of Philadel phia, near Gloucester Point: The vessels in the harbor im mediately hoisted their colors half mast high; the bells on the churches were muffled; and during the rest of the day were toll? ed, in token of a profound and genera] mourning, ( On the 10th of September, the stamps, designed for Boston, arrived at that place. By order of the governor, they were conveyed to the castle, where they could be defended by the ar tillery, should occasion require. At length, the 1st of Novem ber arrived. The day in many places was ushered in with marks of funeral ceremony. , Business was suspended, and shops and stores were, closed. But at this time, not a single sheet pf all the bales ef stamps, which had been sent from England, could have been found in the colonies of New-England, of New-York,, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the two Carolinas. They had either been committed to the flames, had been re- shipped to England, or were safely guarded by the opposition, into whose hands they had fallen. A general suspension, or rather a total cessation cf all business which required stamped paper, Was the consequence. The printers of newspapers only, observes ah historian, continued- their occupation; alleging for 24 INTRODUCTION. excuse, that \iihey had done otherwise, the people would have given them such an admonition as they little coveted. None would receive the Gazettes coming from Canada, as they were printed on stamped paper. The courts of justice were shut; even marriages were no - longer celebrated ; and, in a Word, an Absolute stagnation in all the relatiphs of social life was estab* lished.* The mother country could not long remain in ignorance of the spirit which prevailed, , and the disturbances which had been excited in the colonies, by the oppressive acts of parliament; . and the stamp act in particular. The minds of all classes in that country were deeply affected; but as different interests swayed, different interests were entertained and expressed. The merchants, anticipatinga loss on the credit given to the Americans, were disposed to censure the extraordinary course of parliament. The manufacturers were not less loud in their complaint,' since, as the orders for their wares were discontinued, ruin stared them in the face. A deep despondency pervaded the minds of some; a lofty indignation took possession of others.' By one class, the cptonies were extravagantly extolled; by an other, they were as pointedly condemned. By some, they were praised for their manly independence and held decisicn; hy eth ers, they were accused ef ingratitude, turbulence, and rebellien. Fortunately for the interests both of the colonies and of Great Britain, about this time, a change took place in the administra tion of England, by which several ofthe friends of America came into pewer. The marquis pf Rpckingham, che pf the wealthiest neblerhen pf the kingdpm, and highly esteemed for the endpw- ments pf his mind and the sincerity ef his character, was ap- ppinted first ford pf the treasury, in the room of ford Grenville; Mr. Dowdeswell was made chancellor of the exchequer;. lord Winchester took the place ef the duke ef Bedford,- as president ofthe council; and the seals were given to the young duke of Grafton and general Conway, who so nobly defended the cause ef the Americans, oh the motion in parliament to tax them. During tlie session ofthe parliament of 1766, the subject of the late disturbances in the colonies was brought forward by *Botta. INTRODUCTION. 25 the new administration, and the expediency of repealing the odious enactments was strongly urged. Petitions, from various quarters, were presented, te the same effect.' Many ef the merchants and manufacturers ef the kingdom were deeply affect ed by the new regulations concerning America. An immense quantity of British manufactures were perishing in the ware houses; while artisans and seamen were deprived of employment and support. Tp the repeal ef the stamp act* its original advocates were strongly opposed, and they marshalled all their strength to pre vent it. In the first rank stood George Grenville, the late prime minister.- But after an animated debate* en the putting pf the question, February 22d, the, repealof the stamp act was carried in the house by a majority of 265 to 167. The vete in the hpuse pf peers was 155 to 61. On the 19th of March, the act of re peal received the royal assent. Thus was put at rest, for a time, a question which had deeply agitated not only the colonies of America, but England itself; and had excited much attention throughout continental Europe. But it is more than probable, that even at this time the repeal ing act wculd npt have passed j had it net been accompanied by a declaratory act, that the parliament had tbe, right to make laws and statutes to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever. The joy produced throughout England at this result, was greater than could have been anticipated, and no demonstra tions were omitted which could testify the public sense of the kindness of the king .and the wisdom of the parliament. The flags of the ships were spread in token of felicitation; a general illumination of the city of London was made; salutes were fired; and bonfires kindled in every quarter. But it was in America that a stilt higher joy. prevailed, and still greater demonstrations of that joy were'made; In the house of representatives of Massachusetts, a vote of gratitude to the king, and of thanks to Mr. Pitt, the duke of Grafton, and others, was passed. By the house of burgesses in Virginia, it' was re solved to erect a statue in honor of the king, and an obelisk in honor of all those, whether of the house of peers or of com mons, who had distinguished themselves in favor of the rights of the colonies. 26 INTRODUCTION. In the midst of this joy, the declaratory act, above mentioned, appears to have been little regarded. The extent and inad missible character of its principles for a time remained unscru- tinised. It was ccnsidered as appended to the act ef repeal, to soften the prejudices of the opposition, and to save national ho nor from the imputation of being too greatly tarnished. But, in reality, it was designed as the recognition of a principle which the British politicians were unwilling to relinquish, and which they might in time have occasion to apply. It is not, moreover, to be concealed, that universal and sin cere as was the joy ofthe Americans, consequent on the repeal ofthe stamp act; the same cordiality was never felt by the colo nies, as before the late disturbances. A strong disgust — a deep resentment, had fixed itself in the hearts of. many; and a secret wish began to be felt, that the yoke were entirely removed. Perhaps, even at this early day, the hope was .indulged, that the time would arrive, when this wish would bec'ome a reality. In July, 1766, the administration of the marquis of Rocking ham was dissolved,' and a new one formed, under the direction of Mr. Pitt. Unfortunately it was composed of men of differ ent political principles, and attached to different parties. The duke of Grafton was placed at the head ofthe treasury; lord Shelburne was joined with general Conway as one of the secre taries of state;. Charles Townshend was made chancellor of the exchequer; Camden, lord chancellor; Pitt,' now created earl of Chatham, had the privy seal, and lord Nprth and Geprge Cooke were joint pay-masters. If the prejudices of many in the ccfonies were npt yet dene away, much more was this the fact with the ex-minister Gren ville, and his adherents in England. Disappointed as to the popularity pf his administration, and remembering as 'one cause of it, his measures against America, he was ready to call into view, on every occasion, her obstinacy and ingratitude, and to enter anew upon efforts to tax the colonies. " To him, therefore, is attributed the plan which, under the last formed administration, was brought forward in the parlia ment of 1767, to impose taxes upon the colonies. The articles ' enumerated in tiie bill, upon which duties were laid, were glass, paper, paste-board, white and red lead, painter's colors, and tea, INTRODUCTION. 27 Mr. Bitt, during the discussion of this bill, was confined by in- dispoSition, and hence, unable to raise his voice against it. Without much opposition, it passed both houses, and on the 29th of June, received the royal assent. At the same time were passed two other acts; — the one establishing a new board of custom-house officers in America; and the other restraining the legislature of the province . of. New- York from passing any act whatever, until they should furnish the king's troops with several required articles. These three acts reached America at the same time, and again excited universal alarm. The first and second were particular ly odious. The new duties, it was perceived, were Only a new mode of drawing money from the colonies, and the same strong opposition to the measure was exhibited, which had prevailed against the stamp act. Several of the colonies, through their colonial assemblies, expressed their just abhorrence of these en actments, and their determination never to submit to them. ¦ Soon after the establishment of the new board of custom-house officers, at Boston, under the above act, a fit. occasion presented itself for an expression of the public indignation. This was the arrival at that port, in May, 1768^of the sloop Liberty, belong ing to Mr. Hancock, ahd laden with wines from Madeira. During the night, the most of her cargo was unladen, and put into stores; on the following day the slepp was entered at the custom-house, with a few pipes pnly. . A disccvery being made of these facts, by the custom-house officers, the vessel was seized, and by their order removed along side of the Romney, a ship of war, then in the harbor. The conduct of the custom-house officers in this transaction roused the indignant feelings of the, Bostonrans, who unwarrant ably attacked the houses of the officers, and even assaulted their. persons. No prosecutions, , however, could be sustained, from the excited state of public feeling. Finding themselves no longer safe in the town, the officers pTudently sought protection on board the Romney, and subse quently retired to Castle Williams. - * The public excitement was soon after increased by the arri val in the harbor of twO regiments of troops, under the, com mand of colonel Dalrymple. These were designed to assist 28 • INTRODUCTION. the civil magistrates in the preservation of peace, and the cus tom-house pfficers in the execution of their functions. , Both of these regiments were encamped within the town — the one on the commons, the other in the market hall and state house. During the session of parliament in 1770, the duke of Graf ton, first lord of the treasury, resigned, and was succeeded in that cffice by the afterwards celebrated lord Nprth. In March, this latter gentleman introduced a bill abolishing the duties im posed by the act of 1767, on all the articles except lea. This partial suspension of the duties served to spften the feelings ef the Americans in a degree ; but the exceptfon in relaticn to tea, it was quite apparent, was designed as a salvp to the natienal honor, and as an evidence which the British ministry were un willing to relinquish, of the right of parliament to tax the -col onies. The above relaxation in respect to certain duties was, how ever, unaccompanied by any other indications of a more kindly feeling towards the colonies. The troops were still continued in Boston, and the acts of trade enforced with singular Strictness. At length, on the evening of the 5th of March, 1770, in a quar rel between a party of soldiers and citizens, eleven of the lat ter were killed or wounded, by a guard, under command of a captain Preston. The news of this rencontre was spread in every direction over the city — the bells were rung, the alarm of "fire" was given, the drums were beat, aud the citizens every where called to arms. Thousands soon assembled, and demanded the removal of the troops from the town. With the assurance that the affair should be settled to their satisfaction in the morning, they were indu ced to retire'. When the morning came, however, Hutchinson, the lieutenant-governor, for a long time refused to order the re moval of the troops, and was only driven to this measure, by evi dence too strong to be dpubted, that his ewn persenal safety de pended upon it. The men whe were killed, were regarded as martyrs in ihe cause ef liberty; and at their interment no mark of public sym pathy or appropriate funeral ceremony was omitted. The an niversary of this tragical event, which was called "tlie Boston massacre," was long observed with great solemnity, and gave INTRODUCTION 29 occasion to warm and patriotic addresses, well adapted to ex cite a revolutionary spirit. Captain Preston and his guard were arraigned before a ju dicial tribunal; but for the honor of the colony they were all acquitted, except two, who were found guilty of man-slaughter. For this acquittal, the prisoners, as well as the colony, were indebted to the independent zeal and powerful eloquence cf Jphn Adams and Josiah Quincy, jun. than whpm none were warmer friends te the colony, or had acted a more conspicuous part against the imperious demands pf the British ministry. Odipus to the community as the prisoners were, these honest and intrepid champions appeared in their defence, arid proved to the world,- that while Americans could resist the usurpations ofa tyrannical ministry, they could also stand forth,' when justice re quired, for ' the protection arid defence of their irresponsible servants. During these transactions in America, a plan was devising by, the British ministry, to introduce tea into the colonies. The duty on this article, as already , noticed, had been retained, for the purpose of maintaining the supremacy of parliament, and its right to impose taxes. Little of the article, however," had been imported into the country from Great Britain ; the people having firmly resolved not to submit to the payment ef the duty. In consequence of a strict adherence to this resolution, thet teas of the East India company had accumulated in their warehouses; and legislative aid became necessary to relieve them of their embarrassments. In 1773, the minister introduced a bill into parliament, allew- ing the ccmpany to export their teas to America, with a draw back of all the duties paid in England. By this regulation, tea would, in fact, become cheaper in America than in Great Bri tain, and it was expected this' consideration would induce the Americans tc pay the small duty upon it. On the passage pf this, bill, the company made a shipment of large quantities of tea to Charleston, Philadelphia, New- York, and Boston; Before its arrival, the resolution had been formed by the inhabitants pf thpse places, that, if ppssible, it should npt even be landed. That cargc destined for Charleston was, in deed, landed and stored; hut was not permitted to be offered 5 30 INTRODUCTION. for sale. The vessels which brought tea tp Philadelphia and New-Yerk, were cempelled to return , to England with their cargoes, without even having made an entry at the custom house. It was designed by the leading patriots of Boston to make a similar disposition of the cargoes which were expected at that place; but on its arrival, the consignees were found to be the re lations, of friends, of the governpr, and they could npt be induced to resign their trust. Several town meetings were held on the subject, and* spirited resolutions passed, that no considerations, wpuld induce the inhabitants tc permit the landing of the tea. Orders1 were at the same time given tp the captains tp pbtain clearances at the custcm-house, Without the usual entries, but this the collector pertinaciously refused. ' It was in this state pf things, that the citizens pf Bpston again assembled, to determine what measures to adopt. During the discussions had pn the posture ef affairs, and while a captain cfa Vessel was gene to wait upon the governpr, for the last time, to request a passport, Jpsiah Quincy, jun. rose, and addressed the assembly in the folfowing elequent style: "It is net the spirit that vapprs within these walls, that must stand us in stead. The exertions of this day will call forth events, which will make a very different spirit necessary for our salvation. Look, to the end. Whoever supposes that shouts and iosannas will termi nate the trials of the day, entertaihsa childish fancy. We must be grossly ignorant of the importance and value ef the prize for which we contend; we must be equally ignorant of the pow ers pf those who have combined against us ; we must be blind to that malice, inveteracy and insatiable revenge, which actuate our enemies, public and private, abroad and in our bosoms, to hope we shall end this controversy without the sharpest, sharp est conflicts; to flatter ourselves, that popular resolves, popular harangues, popular acclamations, and popular vapor, will van quish our fears. Let us consider the issue. Let us look to the end. Let us weigh and consider, before we advance to those measures which must bring on the most trying and terrible strug gle this country ever saw. The captain of the vessel at length returned, to say that the governor refused the requested passport. The meeting was INTRODUCTION. 31 immediately dissolved. A secret plan had been formed to min gle the tea with the waters of the ocean. Three different par ties soon after sallied out, in tlie costume of Mohawk Indians, and precipitately made their way to the wharves. At the same time, the citizens were seen in crowds direct ing their course to the same place, to becorhe spectators of a scene as novel as the enterprise was bold. Without noise, without the tumult usual on similar occasions, the tea was taken fiom tlie vessel, by the conspirators, and expeditiously offered as an oblation "to the watery god." Nothing could exceed the surprise of the British ministry, on learning the issue of their plan to introduce tea into the colonies. Their indignation was particularly severe agninst the inhabi tants of Boston, for their "violent and outrageous conduct." In the following March, 1774, the whole affair was presented to parliament by lord North, and a determination was formed to punish both the citizens of Boston and the inhabitants of the colony. Accordingly, a bill was soon introduced into the house of com mons, usually called the "Boston port bill," which prohibited the landing or shipping of any goods at that port, after the first of June following. By a second act, which followed, the char ter of the colony was so altered, as to make the appointment ofthe council, justices, judges, sheriffs, and even jurors, depen dent upon the king or his agent; and restraining all town meet ings, except the annual meeting, withput leave pf the gevernpr in writing, with a statement ef the special business of the meet ing. To these enactments a third was added, authorising the governor, with the advice of the council, to send any persen for trial tp any other colony, or to Great Britain, who should be in formed against, or indicted for any act done in violation of the laws of the revenue. On the arrival of the Boston port bill, which was brought over by a new governor, general Gage, the citizens of Boston, in an assembly which was convened to consider tlie subject, decla red, "that the impolicy, injustice, inhumanity, and cruelty of the act exceeded all their powers of expression; and, therefore," said they, "we leave it to the consciences of others, and appeal to God and the world."— At the same time they adopted the 32 INTRODUCTION. following resolutipn: "That if the ether colonies come into a joint .resolution to stop all importations from and exportations to Great Britain, and every part of the West "Indies, till the art be repealed, the same wpuld prove the salvatien pf North Ame rica and her liberties." ,j* Arrangements having been made for the meeting ofthe se cond continental congress, on the 5th of September,- 1774j that body assembled at Philadelphia. AU the. colonies were repre sented, except Georgia; . Peyton Randolph, a delegate from Virginia, was elected president, and Charles. Thompspn, a citi zen of Philadelphia, was chosen secretary. , The attention of this celebrated congress was at an early date turned towards the province of Massachusetts, and the. city of Boston; and the following resolutions were adopted, expressive of the sympathy they felt for that colony, ih its distress, and the high sense which the congress entertained of the wisdom and fortitude which the colony exhibited. "This assembly deeply feels the sufferings of their countrymen in the Massachusetts Bay, under the operation of the late unjust, cruel,- and oppres sive acts ofthe British parliament; at the same time, they most thoroughly approve- the wisdom and fortitude with which opp®- ' sitipn to these wicked" ministerial measures has hitherto been conducted ; and they earnestly recommend to their brethren a perseverance in the same, firm and temperate conduct, trusting that the effect ofthe united efforts of North America, in their behalf, will carry such conviction to the British nation, of the unwise, unjust, and ruinous policy ofthe present administration, as quickly to introduce- better men and wiser measures." Ccngress further addressed a letter tp general Gage, earnest ly praying him te put a stop to the hostile preparations which he had commenced, especially the fortifications around Boston, as the surest means of maintaining public tranquility in that quar ter, and preventing the horrors ,of a civil war. At the same time, they urged upon the citizens of that town all the forbear ance within their power; that they should "cpnduct themselves peaceably towards his excellency, general Gage, and his majes ty's trepps stattoned in Bpston, as far as could pessibly be ccn- sistent with the immediate safety and security cf the town." It was alsp deemed of importance to adppt measures to stop INTRODUCTION. 83 commercial intercourse with Great Britain. An agreement was, therefore, entered into, to suspend all, importation of mer chandise from Great Britain and its dependencies, from the 1st of December,. 1774; and, unless the wrongs of which the Ame ricans complained should be redressed, to suspend in like manner all exportation from the 1.0th of September, 1775, with the sin gle exception of rice. At the same time it was urged upon the colonies to adopt a system of rigid economy; to encourage industry, arid to promote agriculture, arts^ and manufactures, and especially the manufac ture of wool. • , Having attended to J these important concerns, congress clo sed their session on the 26th of October, after adopting ad dresses to the people of Great Britain, to the king, and to the French inhabitants of Canada. . The congress which then terminated its session, has justly been celebrated from that time to the-present, and its celebrity will continue while wisdom finds admirers and patriotism is re garded with veneration, The tone and temper of their various resolutions, the style of their addresses, and the composition pf the several' public papers, contributed, in every particular, te excite the admiraticn ofthe world. Born and educated in the wilds ofa new world, unpractised. in the arts of polity, most of them unexperienced in the arduous duties of legislation, differ;- ing in religion, manners, customs, and habitsj as they did in their views of the nature of their ccnnexien with Great Britain; — that such an assembly, so* constituted, should display so much wis dom, sagacity, foresight,- and knpwledge ef the world; such skill in argument; such force of reasoning; such firmness and soundi ness pf judgment; so profound an acquaintance with the rights of men; such genuine patriotism; and, above all, such unexam pled union of opinion, was indeed a political phenomenen to which history has furnished no parallel.* Both at home and abroad, they Were spoken of in terms of the highest admiration. Abroad, the earlof Chatham, in one of his brilliant speeches, remarked of them: — "History, my lords, has been my favorite study, and in the celebrated writings of antiquity have I often X •Allen. *' 34 INTRODUCTION. admired the patriotism of Greece and Rome; but, my lords, I must declare and avow, that in the master-tales of the world, I know not the people, or the senate, ,who, in such a complication- ef difficult circumstances, can stand in preference to the dele gates of America assembled in general congress! at Philadel phia." At home, they -were celebrated" by a native and popular bard* in an equally elevated strain: "Now meet the fathers of this western clime; Nor names more noble graced the rolls of fame, When Spartan firmness braved the wrecks of time, Or Rome's bold virtues fann'd the heroic flame, Not deeper thought the immortal sage inspired, ¦ On Solon's lips when Grecian senates hung; ' Nor manlier eloquence the bosom fired, When geniu3 thundered from the Athenian tongue." While this congress were in session, nearly all the.colonies had taken measures to call provincial assemblies, for the purpose of better securing their ancient rights of government. In Massa chusetts, the people had determined to. hold a provincial con gress on the 15th of October, which induced general Gage, with a view to prevent the intended meeting, to convoke the general court qf the province of Salem, on the ,5th of the same month. Before the arrival of this latter day,, however, he issued his proclamation, forbidding that assembly. The members, neverthe- * less, convened on the appointed day, and adjourned to Concord, where, after electing John Hancock foritheir president, they further adjourned to meet at Cambridge, on the 17th. instant. At the latter, place, they proceeded to exercise the powers of government, and to take the necessary measures for placing the province in a state pf defence. They appointed1 a committee of safety, and a committee pf supplies. , One fourth of the mili tia were ordered to be enlisted as minute men, to be frequently drilled, and held in readiness for service at a minute's warning. In other cofonies also, before the clcse ef the year, the note of preparation was heard. The horizon every day becamp more lowering; and as its darkness thickened, the activity and vigi? lance of the colonists increased. *M'Fingal. INTRODUCTION* 35 The British parliament met on the 29th of November. The moderation evinced by the congress at Philadelphia had encour aged the mass of the American people to hope, that On the meeting of that bpd'y, conciliatory measures would be adopted, so as to restore peace and harmony between the two countries. Similar sentiments were entertained by the friends of America, in England. They saw nothing in the proceedirigs of the Ame rican congress, in their resolutions, manifestoes, or addresses, to which an Englishman, proud of his birthright, could justly ob ject. It now remained with the British gpvernment to adppt a plan pf reconciliation, or to Ipse the affeetiens pf the colonies forever. The tone of his majesty's speech, on the opening ofthe ses sion, was unexpectedly lofty, and gave little encouragement to the hopes of reconciliation. After alluding to the spirit of dis- ob.edierice which was abroad in his American colonies, and to the daring resistance to law which characterized the people of Massachusetts, he informed parliament of his firm determination to resist every attempt to impair the supreme authority of par liament, throughout the dominions of the crown. To the mind of lord Chatham, no object, at this time, seemed more important, than the restoration of peace between the two countries. ' The period had arrived, when a reconciliation must take place, if ever such an event cpuld be effected. Hence, on 0 the assembling of parliament, after the usual recess, January 20th, 1775, when the minister ha4 laid the papers relating to America before the hpuse, ford Chatham rose, and .moved, "that an humble address be presented to his majesty, to direct the removal of his majesty's troops from Boston, in prder to ppen the way towards a Settlement of the dangerous troubles in America." This motion of lord Chatham, offered not less from a regard to the welfare of England than from a conviction other impo litic and cruel oppression of the colonists, — and supported by all the eloquence of which that distinguished orator was master, was, nevertheless, rejected by a large majority. Although thus defeated, he was still determined, if possible, to save his country from the evils which his prophetic glance saw in certain pros pect, unless they should be timely averted. Hence, shortly af- terwards, he introduced into parliament his conciliatory bill. 36 INTRODUCTION. White this bill maintained the dependence of the colonies upon the imperial Crown, and the right of parliament to make laws to bind them iri all cases, touching the general'interests of, the British empire, it declared that that body had no right to tax the colonies without their Consent. To such a proposition the ministry were not prepared to lis ten. They were determined to adhiit no bill, which had for its object the relinquishment of any of their favorite doctrines, pr which, by implication, should impeach the wisdom or justice of the course they had pursued. Nay, they had now formed their plan, and were prepared to announce it. Coercion was to be their motto, until, in. the spirit of submission, America should lay herself down at their feet. In accordance with the above declaration, a bill was soOn after passed by the parliament, restricting the trade pf the col onies of Massachusetts, Connecticut,^ New-Hampshire, and Rhode-Island, to Great Britain^ Ireland, and the West Indies, and prohibiting their carrying on any fisheries on the banks of New foundland arid other places, for a limited time. The same re strictions were soon after extended to all the colonies, represen ted in the congress at Philadelphia, with the exception of New- York and North Carolina. By these restrictions, it was thought to Starve the colonies into" obedience and submission, from a mis taken apprehension that the people were dependent upon the fisheries for their support. ? < It was a general understanding among the colenists, that hos tilities sheuld not be cpmmenced by them. It was, indeed, ap parent, that the day cf bfood was not far distant, but that blood was to be first shed by the hands pf the English. In the mean time, they were hot inactive in the work of preparation. The munitions of war were collected and stored at different points, as necessity and safety seemed to require. Among the places cf deposit in Massachusetts, were Worcester and Concord, and thither considerable stores of arms and provisions had been con veyed. In the mean time,- the vigilance of general Gage was not abated. 'Excited by the loyalists, who had persuaded him that he woul'd find "no resistance from the cowardice of the patriots, "he resolved to- send a few companies to Concord, in a secret INTRODUCTION. 37 maptoer, to seize the military stores deposited, there; and either to transport them to Boston, pr to destroy, them. Accordingly, on the evening of the 18th of April, 1775, a .detachment moved from Bpston for this purppse,.and.the next day occurred the memorable battle of Lexington, in which the British were the aggressors, by first firing on the. militia collected at that place. The details of. this opening scene of the revolutionary war are too well known to require a recital in. this place. Repulsed, harassed, and fatigued, the British, with no inconsiderable, foss, returned to Boston, after having accomplished their object.. The provincial congress pf Massachusetts was, at this time,- in sessien at Watertown, ten miles distant from Bpston. They im mediately resolved that a levy of thirteen thousand men shpuld be made. At the same time, the treasurer was directed to bor row 100,0002., for the use of the province; andthey declared the citizens were absolved from all obligations of obedience to gov ernor Gage. As the news of the battle of Lexington spread round the country, a universal ardpr inflamed the minds ef the inhabitants; and shortly after, were assembled, in the neighbor hood qf Boston, thirty, thousand men, ready, should occasion require, to do justice to themselves, and their country. In this critical state of public affairs, congress again assembled at Philadelphia, on the 10th of May. An official account of the late aggressions pf his majesty's troops in Massachusetts, was soon after laid before them; upon which it was unanimously resolved to place the colonies in a state of defence. To the col ony of New- York, which had solicited the advice and direction of congress, in anticipatipn pf the speedy arrival of foreign troops, they recommended a course of action entirely on the de fensive. They were, however, advised to remove all military stores, and -to provide, a place of retreat for .their women and children; to hold themselves in readiness for the protection of the city; and, in the event of hostilities, to meet the enemy with promptness and decision. To some ofthe members of congress, it appeared desirable to make yet another attempt at reconciliation with the British government. Justice, indeed, required no such advance; and by many the measure was considered only as a wprk pf supe rerogation. They were willing, however, while raising the 6 38 INTRPDUCTION. sword with one hand, to extend the olive branch with the other; and, though driven te the necessity cf forcibly vindicating their rights, they were still disposed tp secure them, if possible, by a firm remonstrance. Yielding, therefore, tp the pacific wishes pf several members, they prepared ari address to , the king, by way ef splemn appeal j and a second address to the people of. Great Britain. Towards the king, they yet used the language of loyalty and affection; and assured him, notwithstanding the 'injuries they had sustained, and the grievous oppressions under which they were suffering, they still wished for peace; and if redressed in ' respect to their wrongs, and secured in the just rights of sub jects, they would manifest towards him all the affection andde- votiph which ascvereign ceuld require"; In their address to the inhabitants ef Great Britain, after re capitulating former injuries, and stating more recent acts pf hps- tility, they ask: "Can the decendants pf Britain tamely submit te this? Np, we never will; while we revere the memery of our gallant and virtuous ancestors, we never can surrender those gloripus privileges for which they fought, bled, and cenquered. Admit that ycur fleets and armies can destroy cur towns, ' and ravage pur coasts; these are inconsiderable objects, things of no moment to men whose bosorns glow, with the ardor of lib erty. We can retire beyond the reach pf your navy, and with- put any sensible diminution pf the necessaries of life, enjpy a luxury which, from that pericd, ypu will want — the luxury of being free." They again, repel tlie charge of aiming at inde pendence: "Our enemies," say they, "charge us with sedition. In what does it consist? In our refusal to submit tp unwarrantable acte pf injustice and cruelty? If so, shew us a period in your history in which you have riot been equally seditious. "We are accused of aiming at independence ; but how is this accusation suppprted? By the allegations of your ministers, not hy our actions, Abused, insulted, and contemned, what steps have we pursued to obtain redress? We have carried our dutiful petitions to the throne. We have applied to your jus tice for relief. We have retrenched cur luxury, and withheld oar trade. INTRODUCTION. 39 "The advantages of our commerce were designed as a com pensation for your protection: when you ceased to protect, for what were we to compensate? "What has been the success of our endeavors? The cle mency of our sovereign is unhappily diverted; our petitions are treated with indignity; our prayers answered by insults. Our application to you remains unnoticed, and leaves us the melan choly apprehension of your wanting either the will, or the power, to assist us." After reminding them, that the loss of liberty in America would only be a prelude to its less in Great Britain, they con clude: "A cloud hangs over your head and ours ; ere this reaches you^ it may probably burst upon us; let us then, (before the re membrance of former kindness is obliterated) once more repeat these appellations, which are ever grateful to our ears; let us entreat heaven to avert our ruin, and the destruction that threat ens our friends, brethren, and countrymen, on the other side of the Atlantic." Having thus dpne all which the mest scrupufous ccnscience cculd demand, congress proceeded to adopt measures to place the country in a proper attitude of defence, by organizing an army, and appointing the necessary military oflicers. On the 15th of June, George Washington, by the united voice of congress, was appointed commander-in-chief of the army then raised, or to be raised, for the defence of American liberty. Washington was, at that time, a member of congress, and in a measure prepared to decide on the important question of ac ceptance. On th^day following, he appeared in the house, and, standing in his place, said, that he thanked congress for the honor they had conferred upon him; but that he felt great dis tress, from a consciousness that his abilities and military expe rience were hot equal to the extensive and important trust; "however, as the congress desire it, I will enter upon the mo mentous duty, and exert every power I possess in their service, and for the support of the glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial thanks for this distinguished testimony of their approbation. "But lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentle- 40 INTRODUCTION. A man in the room,' that I this day declare, with the utmost sin cerity, I do not think myself equal to the command I am hon ored with: "As to pay, sir, I -beg leave tp assure the ccngress, that as np pecuniary 'consideration could have tempted me te accept this arduous employment, at the expense of my doinestie ease and happiness, I do not Wish fo make any profit from it; I will keep an exact account of my expenses. These, I doubt not, they will discharge, and that is all I desire." During the winter of 1776, the subject ofa Declaration of Independence, occupied the attehticn of many men in all parts of the country. The ablest pens also were employed on this momentous subject. ^The propriety and necessity of the mea sure was enforced in the numerous gazettes, ahd'in pamphlets. , Among the latter, Commpn Sense, from the popular pen ef Tho mas Paine, produced a wonderful effect in the different colonies., in favor of independence. Influential individuals urged it as a step absolutely necessary to preserve the rights and liberties of America, and effectually secure her happiness and prosperity. In the ensuing spring, several of the colonies, by means of their assemblies, expressed their sentiments in favor of indepea- . dence, and instructed their delegates in the general congressto propose to that respectable body, to declare the united colonies free and independent states. On the 7th of June, Richard Henry Lee, one ofthe delegates from Virginia, brought the great question of independence be fore the house, by submitting the following resolution: "That these united colonies are,. and of right out *> be, free-and inde pendent states; that they are absolved frorri all allegiance to the British crown, and that all pplitical ccnnexipn between them and the state ef Great J3ritain is, and ought to be, totally dis solved."' " This resolution was postponed until the next day, when it was debated ih committee pf the whele. On the 10th, it was adop- , ted by a bare majority of the colonies. To give time for grea ter unanimity, the resolution was postponed in the hpuse, until the first ef July. In the mean time, a committee,^ ccnsisting of Mr. Jefferson, John Adams, Dr. Franklin, Mr. Sherman, and R. R. Livingston, was appointed to prepare a declaration of ( introduction. 41 independence. The committee thus appointed, selected Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson, as a sub-committee. The draft made by Mr, Jefferson, was the one reported to congress. It was dis cussed on the second and third and fourth days of the month, in committee" of the whole; and on the last of those days, being re ported from that committee, it received the final approbation and sanction of congress. It was ordered at the same time, that copies be sent to- the several states, and that it be proclaimed at the head of the army. The declaration thus published, did not bearthe names ofthe members, for as yet it had not been signed by" them. It was authenticated, like other papers of the con gress, by the signatures of the president and secretary. , On the 19th of July, as appears by the secret journal, congress "Resol ved, That the declaration, passed on the fourth, be fairly en grossed on parchment, with the title and style of 'The unani mous declaration of the thirteen United States of America,' and that the same, when engrossed, be signed by every member of congress." Arid on the second day of August following, the declaration being engrossed and compared at the table, was signed by the members. , ¦ , The declaration thus adopted, and which gave birth to a new empire, was as folfows: "When1, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for' pne pepple to dissolve the political bands which have con nected them with one another, and to assume, among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind, requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. "We hold these truths to be self-evident:— that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator witli certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure- these rights, gov ernments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of' these ends, it is, the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundatienon such principles, and organ-, izing its powers in such' form* as to them shall seem mpst likely 42 INTRODUCTION. to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long established should not be chan ged for light and transient causes; and accprdingly all experi ence hath shown, that mankind are mere dispesed to suffer while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abelish- ing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them mider absolute despr> tisnij it is their right, it is their duty, te throw off such govern ment, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them tp alter their former. systems of government. The history of the present king of Great Britain, is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute ty- ; ranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid wcrld. "He has refused x his assent to laws the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. "He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate'' and pressing importance, unless suspended iri their operation, till his assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of peo ple, unless those people would relinquish the right of represen tation in the legislature->-a right inestimable to them, and for midable to tyrants only. "He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the repository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance!:1 with his measures. i > "He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for op-' posing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. "He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, in capable cf annihilatien, have returned to the people at large, for their exercise, the state remaining, in the mean time, expo sed to all the dangers of invasipn from without, and convulsions within. INTRODUCTION. 43 "He has endeaveredto prevent the^ population of these; states, for that purpose obstructing the .laws for naturalization of for eigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. "He has obstructed the administrafionef justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. "He has made+judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amcunt and payment of their salaries. "He has erected a multitude of new offices; and sent hither swarms cf officers, to harass our people, and eat out their sub stance. "He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the consent ef pur legislatures. 'trie has affected to render the military independent pf, and superier to, the civil power. "He has combined with others -to .'subject us to a jurisdiction foreign te pur constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his assent fo their acts of pretended legislation: "For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us: "For . protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states: "For cutting off our trade with all parts ofthe world; "For imposing taxes on us Without our consent: ' "For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury: "For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offences : "For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neigh- bpring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its beundaries, sp as to render it at ence an ex ample and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these colonies :*• "For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, the forms of our governments: "For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring them selves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases what soever. . . 44 INTRODUCTION. "He -has abdicated government here, by declaring US out of his protection, and waging war against.us. •<; ., "He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts^ burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. "He is at this timettransperting large armies of foreign mer cenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, and ty ranny, already begun, with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally un- wprthy the head Of a civilized nation. "He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the highseas, to bear arms against their country, to become the exe cutioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. * "He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has' endeavored te bring on the inhabitants of 'our frontiers, the mer ciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare is an undis tinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. "In every stage of these oppressions we have' petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose char acter i3 thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is Unfit to be the ruler of a free people. "Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British breth ren'. We have warned them, from time to time, of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigra- , tion and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connexions and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consan guinity, We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind — enemies in war, in peace friend^ - "We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in general congress assembled, appealing lo the Su preme Judge of the world for the rectitude of pur intentieni) dp, in the name and by the autherity pf the gppd pepple of these celpnies, splemnly publish and declare, that these united INTRODUCTION. 45 colonies are, and ef right ought to be, free +and independent states; that they are absplved fropi all allegiance to the British crown-, and that all political connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved'; and that, as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish com merce, and to do all other acts and things, which independent states may of right do; And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor."; JOHN HANCOCK, President. Attest — Charles Thompson, Secretary. . PENNSYLVANIA. Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, NEW-HAMPSHIRE. Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton, MASSACHUSETTS-BAVi Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. RHODE-ISLAND^ &C. Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery. CONNECTICUT. Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott. NEW-YORK. William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris. . NEW -JERSEY. Ridiard Stockton, John Witherspepn, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark. MARYLAND. Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll. John Morton, George Clymer, James Wilson, George Ross. DELAWARE. , Caesar Rodney, Thomas M'Kean, George Read. • VIRGINIA. George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, jun. Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton. NORTH CAROLINA. William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn. SOUTH CAROLINA. Edward Rutledge,. Themas Hejward,jun. Themas Lynch,, jun. Arthur Middleton. GEORGIA. ,r Button Gwinnet, Lyman Hall, Geerge Walton. PART L BIOGRAPHY or , AMERICAN MILITARY OFFICERS. GEORGE WASHINGTON, ESQ. Commander-in-Chief ofthe American Army^ To give us the delightful assurance, that we are always under the watchful care of our powerful and kind Creator, he has told us in the bible, that he notices every little sparrow; and as we are "of more value than many sparrows," he will surely ever care for us. It was his powerful and kind care that prctected and guided Columbus, the once popr saifor bpy, tp pbtain the favor of a great king and queen, and then to pass over the waves ofa dangerous ocean, in a little vessel, and reach in safety an unknown land. And it was the same powerful and kind' care, protected and guided houseless strangers to seek spots in that land, on which they might find homes ; and then gave Wash ington to their children, to lead them on to take a place amongst the nations of the earth. His history is as a shining light upon the path ef virtue, fer he "ackncwledged Gpd in all his ways." Geprge Washington was the third spn pf Augustine Wash* ington, whpse grandfather left England, his native country, in. 1657, and chose a home at Bridge's creek, in Virginia, where, on the 22d of February, in the year 1732, his great grand son, George, was born, j. '. , * • v' One of, the first lessons which young Washington received from his faithful parents, was, the importance of a lways» speak ing the truth; and they enjoyed a satisfactory reward for their attention to this duty, for through his childhood, "the law of truth was in his mouth,'" so that he was not known in one in- 48 GEORGE WASHINGTON. . * stance to'tell a falsehood, either to obtain a desired indulgence, or to gscape a deserved punishment or reproof. His character as a lover of truth, was so well known at the school which he attended, that the children were certain of being, believed, when they related any thing, if they could say, "George Wash- ington says it was so." In all the little disputes pf his slhool companions, he "was called on tp say whfch party was. right,'ond his decisions were always satisfactory, for "Where truth is found, bright virtue still resides, v • And equal justice every action guides." 1742. When he was ten years old, his worthy father died, and he became the care of an anxious mother, whose fortune was not sufficient to enable h^r to give him more than a plau% English educaticn. He was very fond pf studying mathematics, and applied his mind diligently, in using all the instruction which he could get in that science. As he grew up to man* hood, he was remarkable for the strength and activity of his* frame. In running, leaping , and managing a horse, he was une qualled by his companions, and, he could with ease climb the ' heights of his native mountain*, to look down alone from some wild crag, upon his followers, who were panting ifiom the toils t of the rugged way. By these healthful exercises, the vigoi of ' his constitution was increased, and he gained that hardiness so important to him in the employments designed for him by hit i Creator. * Mrs. Washington was an affectionate parent; but she did not encourage in herself that imprudent tenderness, which so often ' causes a mflther to foster the passions of her children by foolish indulgences, and which seldom fails to destroy the respect which every child should feci for a parent. George was early made to understand that he must obey his -mother,, and therefore; he respected as well asloved her. • She was kind to his young com* pantons, but they thought her stern, because they' always felt ., chief cf all the trcpps raised in Virginia. ¦<** '^Soon after his resignation he was married to the widow of Mr. Custis, a young lady to whom he had been for some time strongly attached, and who, to a large fortune and a fine person^ added those amiable accomplishments which fill with silent fe licity the scenes of domestic life. His attention, for several years, was principally directed to the management ef his estate, which had npw become considerable. He had nine thcusand acres under his ewn management. Sp great a part was culti vated, that, in cue year, he raised seven thousand bushels- of Wheat and ten thousand pf Indian -corn. His slaves and other persons employed by him, amounted to near a thousand ; and the woollen and linen cloth necessary for their use was chiefly manufactured on the estate. He was at this period a respecta ble member of the legislature of Virginia, in which he took a de cided part in opposition to the principle of taxation asserted by the British parliament. He also acted as a judge of a county "court. In 1774 he was elected a member of the first congress, and was placed on ail thpse committees whose duty it was to make arrangements for defence. In the following year, after the battle of Lexington, when it was determined by congress i to resort to arms, colonel Washington was unanimously^elect^i cpmmander-in-chief cf thearmy ef theunited cefonies. All we|e satisfied as to his qualificaticns, and the delegates from New- England were particularly pleased with his electien, as itwouldjj tend to unite the seuthern cclonies cordially in-the war. H$* accepted the appointment with diffidence, and expressed his, in tention of receiving no compensation for his services,iand only a mere discharge of his' expenses. He immediately repaijjb to , Cambridge, inthe neighborhood of Boston, where he arrives on the .2d of July. He formed the ,army intp three divisions, in order the most effectually to enclose the enemy, intrusting the division at Roxbury to general Ward, the division ,pn Prospect and Winter Hills to general Lee, and commandin^Snself the centre at Cambridge. '" Here he: had to struggle with great diffi-; ¦ culties, with the want of ammunition, clothing, and magazines,. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 35 defect of arms and discipline, and the evils of short enlistments; but instead of yielding J» despondence, he bent- the whole force of his mind to overcome them. He sopn made the alarming dis— cevery, that there was only sufficient powder on hand to furnish the army with nine cartridges for each man. With the greatest caution to keep this fact a secret, the utmost exertions were em ployed to procure a supply. A vessel which was despatched to Africa, obtained in exchange for New-England rum, all the gun powder in the British factories; and in the beginning of winter captain Manly caSptured an ordnance brig, which furnished the American army with the precise articles of which it was in the greatest want. In September, general Washington despatched Arnold on an expedition against Quebec. In February, 1776,. he proposed to a council of his officers to cross the ice and attack the enemy in Boston; but they unanimously disapproved ofthe daring measure. It was, however, soon resolved to take pos session of the heights of Dorchester. This was done without discovery, on the night of the 4th of March, and on the 17th the, enemy found it necessary to evacuate the town. ¦• The recovery of Boston induced congress to pass a vote of thanks to general Washington and his brave army. "In the belief that the efforts of the British would be directed towards the Hudson, he hastened the army to New- York, where he himself arrived on the 14th of April. He made every exer-< tion to fortify the city, and attention was paid to the forts in the; highlands. While he met the most embarrassing difficulties,- a plan was formed to assist the enemy in seizing his person, and some of his own guards engaged in the conspiracy; but it was discovered, and some who were concerned in it were executed. "In the beginning of July, general Howe landed histrppps at Staten Island. His brother, ford Hpwe, whe cpmmanded the fleet, soon arrived; and as both were commissioners for. restoring peace to the colonies, the latter addressed a letter upoh the sub ject-to 'George Washington, esq.;' but the general refused. to receive it, as it did not acknowledge the public character with which he was invested by congress, in which, character only he could "have any intercourse with his lordship. , Another letter was sent to 'George Washington, &c. the village, the victory was gained with an ease altogether unex pected. Jn a few minutes all the outguards were driven in, and the American forces having surrounded the town, resistance be came fruitless, and the enemy surrendered. When this event was communicated to Washington, he was pressing forward and animating his tropps by his vpice and example. Instantly checking his hcrse, and throwing the reins upon his neck, the venerable man raised his hands and eyes to heaven, and thus silently and emphatically acknowledged whence the victory had come, and what aid he had implored to guard his beleved Country in the perilous tonflicts. It was net until the lapse of about a minute that he paused from his devout thankfulness, and" ordered the troops to stand to their arms. "On the same day he re-crossed the Delaware with the fruits of his enterprise; but in two or three days passed again into New-Jersey, and concentrated his forces, ameunting to five thousand, at Trenton. On the Spproach of a superior enemy under Cornwallis, January 2, 1777dp drew up his men behind Assumpinok creek. He expected an attack in the mornings which would probably result in a ruinpus defeat. At this mo- 58 GEORGE WASHINGTON. ment, when it was hazardous, if not impracticable, to ..return into Pem'isjilvania, he formed the resolution of getting into the 'rear ofthe enemy, and thus stop them in their progress towards Philadelphia. . In the night he silently decamped, taking a cir* cuitcus route through Allenstown to Princeton. A sudden change of the weather to severe cold, rendered the roads favora ble for his march. About sunrise his van met a British detach ment on its way to join Cornwallis, and was defeated by it; but, as he came up, he exposed himself to every danger, and gained a victory. With three hundred prisoners he then entered Princeton. "During this march many tof his soldiers were without shoes, and their feet left the marks of blood upon the frozen ground. This hardship, and their want of repose, induced him to lead his army to a place cf security en the read to Morristown. Corn wallis, in the morning, broke up his camp, and, alarmed for his stores at Brunswick, urged the pursuit. Thus the military ge nius of the American commander, under the blessing of Divine Providence, rescued Philadelphia from the threatened danger, obliged the enemy, which had overspread New-Jersey, to return to the neighborhood of New? York, and revived the desponding spirit of his country. Having accomplished these objects, he retired to Morristown, where he caused his whole army to be inoculated with the small pox, and thus was freed from the ap prehension of a calamity which might impede his operations du ring the next campaign. "On the last day of May he remeved his army to Middlebrook, abput ten miles from Brunswick, where he fortified himself i strongly. An ineffectual attempt was made by Sir Willi! Howe te draw him from his positton, by marching towards Phfl adelphia; but after Hpwe's return te New-Yprk, he mpved to wards the Hudsen, in prder to defend the passes, in the expecta- tton that a juncticn with Burgoyne, whp was then upen the lakes, would be attempted. After the British general sailed from New- York and entered ihe, Chesapeake, in August, general Washington" marched immediately for the defence of Philadel phia. On the 11th of September, he was defeated at.Brapdy- wine, with the loss of nine hundred in killed and wounded. A few days afterwards, as he was pursued, he turned upon the GEORGE WASHINGTON. §9 fenemy, determined upon another engagement; but a heavy pun so damaged tlie arms and ammunition, that he was under the absolute necessity of again retreating. Philadelphia was enter ed by Cornwallis on the 26th of September. On the 4th of October, the American commander made a well planned attack upon the British camp at Germantown; but in consequence of the darkness of the morning, and the imperfect discipline of his troops, it terminated in the toss of twelve hundred men, in kill ed, wounded, and prisoners. In December, he went into wai ter quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the Schuylkill, between twenty and thirty miles from Philadelphia. Here his army was in the greatest distress for want of provisions, and he was reduced to the necessity of sending out parties to seize what they could find. -In describing their state in the hut-camp, he said, 'For some days there has been little le»s than a famine in the camp; hut naked and starviug as they are, I cannot enough admire the U£ comparable fidelity of the soldiers, that they have not before this time been excited to a general mutiny or dispersion.' "The inhabitants of the surrounding country, knowing this sad state of the army, were very uneasy; one of them left his home one day, with an anxious heart, and as he was passing thought- ftilly the edge of a wood near the hut-camp, he heard low sounds of a voice. He stopped to listen, and looking between the truuks of the large trees, he saw general Washington eugaged in prayer. He passed quietly on, that lie might not disturb him: and on returning home, told his family he was cheered with a confident hope ofthe success ofthe Americans: for their leader dpd not trust to his own strength, but sought aid from the hearer of prayer, who promised in his word, 'Call unto me, and I will jsnswer thee, and, show thee great and mighty things which thou knowest not." "A female; who lived at the Valley Forge when the army was encamped there, told a friend who visited her soon after they .left ii. that she had discovered that it was the constant custom of Washington to retire to a shotf distance from the camp to worship God in prayer. "About the same time a combination, in which some members ol congress wcre«ngaged, was formed to remove the comman- 60 GEORGE WASHINGTON. der-in-chief, and tc appoint to his place Gates, whcse successes cf late had/ given him a high reputatipn. 'But the name of Washington was too dear to the great body of Americans to ad mit of such a change.' Notwithstanding the discordant mate rials of which his army was composed, there was something in his character which enabled him to attach both his officers and soldiers so strongly to him, that no distress could weaken their affection, nor impair the veneration in which he was generally held. Without this attachment to him, the army must have been dissolved. General Conway, who was concerned in this faction, being wounded in a duel with general Cadwallader, and thinking his wound mortal, wrote to general Washington, 'You are, in my eyes, the great and gopd man.' On the 1st of Feb ruary, 1778, there were abput four thousand men in camp, unfit for duty, for want of clothes. Of these, scarcely a man had a pair, of shoes. The hospitals also were filled with the sick. At this time the enemy, if they had marched out of their winter quarters, would easily have dispersed the American army. The apprehension of the approach of a French fleet inducing the British to concentrate their forces, when they evacuated Phila delphia, on the 17th of June, and marched towards New- York, general Washington followed them. Contrary to the advice of a council, he engaged in the battle of Monmouth pn the 28th; the result pf which made an impression favorable to the cause of America. He slept in his cloak on the field of battle, intend8 ing to renew the attack the next mprning; but at midnight the British marched pff in such silence, as net to be discevered. Their foss in killed was abeut three hundred, and that af the Americans sixty-nine. As the campaign new clpsed in the middle states, the American army went into winter quarters'in the neighborhood of the highlands, upon the Hudson. Thus, after the vicissitudes of two years, both armies were brought back, to the point from which they set out. During the year 1779, general Washington remained in the neighborhood of •» New- York. In January, 1780, in a winter memorable for its.* severity, his utmost exertions were necessary to save the army from dissolution. The soldiers, in general, submitted with he reto patience tc the want of previstons and cfothes. At one lime they ate every kind of horse food hut hay. Their suffer- $ ¦ flf GEORGE WASHINGTON. 61 ings, at length, were so great, that in March, two of the Connec ticut regiments mutinied: but the mutiny was suppressed, and the ringleaders secured. In September, the treachery of Ar nold was detected.^ In the winter of 1781, such were again the privations of the army, that a part of the Pennsylvania line re volted, and marched home. Such, however, was still their patriotism, that they delivered up some British emissaries to general Wayne, who hanged them as spies. Committing the defence of .the posts on the Hudson to general Heath, general Washington, in August, marched, with count Rochambeau, for the Chesapeake, to co-operate with the French fleet there. The siege of Yorktown commenced on the 28th of September, and on the 19th of October he reduced Cornwallis to the neces sity of surrendering, with upwards of seven thousand men, to the combined armies of America and France. The day after the capitulation he ordered that those who were under arrest should be pardoned, and that divine service in acknowledgment of the interposition of Providence, should be performed in all the bri gades and divisions. This event filled America with joy, and was the means of terminating the war. . *» "Few events of importance took place in 1 782. In March, 1783, he exhibited his characteristic firmness and decision, in opposing an attempt to produce a mutiny by anonymous letters. His address to his officers on the occasion, displays in a remarka ble degree, his prudence, and the correctness of his judgment. When he began to read it, he found himself in somejdegree em barrassed by the imperfection of his sight. Taking out his spec tacles, he .said, 'These eyes, my friends, have grown dim, and these locks white,, in the service of my country, yet I have never doubted her justice.' He only could have repressed the spirit which was breaking forth. On the 19th of April, a cessation of hostilities was proclaimed in the American camp. In June he addressed, a letter to the governors of the several states, con gratulating them on the result of the contest in the establish ment ,of independence, and recommending an indissoluble union of the states under one federal .head, a sacred regard to public justice, the adoption of a proper peace establishment, and the , prevalence of a friendly disposition among the people of the several states. It was with keen distress, as well as with pride 9 62 GEORGE WASHINGTON. and admiration, that he saw his brave and veteran soldiers, who had suffered so much, and who had borne theMieat and burden ofthe war, returning peaceably to their homee, without a settle ment of their accounts, or a farthing of money in their pockets. On the 25th cf November, New- York was evacuated, and he entered it, accompanied by governor Clinton, and many respect able citizens. On the 4th of December he took his farewell of his brave comrades in arms. At noon the principal officers of the army assembled at Frances' tavern, and their beloved cdmmander soon entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass with wine, he turned to them and said, 'With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now . . take leave of you; I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.' Having drunk, he added, 'I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you if each of you. will come and take me by the hand.' Gene ral Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable of utterance, general Washington, grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affecticnate manner he tpok his leave of -each succeed ing officer. In every eye was the tear of dignified sensibility, and not a word was articulated, to interrupt the silence and the tenderness of the scene. Ye men, who delight in blood, slaves of ambition! when your work of carnage was finished, could ye thus, part with your companions in crime! Leaving the, room, general Washington passed through the corps of Ught infantry, and walked to Whitehall, where a barge waited to carry him to Powles' Hook. The whole company follpwed in mute pro- cesston, with dejected ccuntenances. Wheq he entered the barge, he turned tp them, and waving his hat, bade them a si- • lent adieu; receiving from them the same last, affectionate com pliment. On the 23d of December he resigned his commission to congress, then assembled at Annapolis. He delivered a short address on the occasion, in which he said, 'I consider it an indis pensable duty to close this last solemn act of my official life by commending the interests of our dearest ceuntry to the pretec- tipn pf Almighty Gpd, and these whe have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping.' He then retired to Mount Ver- npn, to enjey again the pleasures ef dpmestic life. Here the GEORGE WASHINGTON. 63 expressions of the gratitude of his countrymen, in affectionate addresses, poured in upon him, and he received every testimony of respect and veneration. "In his retirement, however, he could not overlook the pub- ' lie interests. He was desirous of opening, by water carriage^ a communication between the Atlantic and the western por- tipns pf pur ccuntry, in prder to prevent the diversion of trade down the Mississippi and to Canada ; from which he predicted consequences injurious to the Union. Through his influence, two companies were formed for promoting inland navigation. The legislature of Vii ginia presented him with one hundred and fifty shares in them, which he appropriated to public uses. In the year 1786, he was convinced, with other statesmen, of the neces sity of substituting a more vigorous general government in the place of the impotent articles of confederation. Still he was aware ofthe danger of running from one extreme to another. He exclaims, in a letter to Mr. Jay, 'What astonishing changes a few years are capable of producing! I am told that even respectable characters speak of a monarchical form pf government without horror. From thinking proceeds speaking ; thence to acting is pf- ten but a single step. Buthewirrevpcableandtremendcus! What a triumph for pur enemies to verify their predictions ! What a triumph for the advocates of despotism, to find that we are in capable of governing ourselves, and that systems founded on tbe basis of equal hberty, are merely ideal and fallacious!' Inthe following year he was persuaded to take a seat in the conven tion which formed the present constitution ofthe United States; and he .presided in that body. In 1789 he was unanimously elected the first president of the United States. It was with great reluctance that he accepted this office. His feelings, as hesaid himself, were like, those ofa culprit going to the place pf executicn. He wished his jpurney to be private; but that wish was not to be. gratified. Preparations were made in every town and village through which he was te pass, to give him proofs of the gratitude of his countrymen for his past services, andiof their exulting confidence that his future ones would be blessings to them. "Philadelphia was illuminated, and the next day he was wel corned to Trenton with joy. On the bridge; over the Assum- pinck creek, an arch had been erected and ornamented with 64 GEPRGE WASHINGTON. laurejs and flowers, and it was supported by thirteen pillars, en twined with wreaths of evergreen. On the front of the arch was inscribed, in large letters, the date of tbe first battle of Trenton, and of tbe day on which the American troops had made a bold stand on the borders of the Assumpinck, by which the progress of the English army had been stopped. Under this was written, 'The defender of the mothers will be the pro tector of the daughters.' "Washington* left his carriage to walk over the bridge, and a company of young girls went before him, and strewed fresh* flowers for his steps to press. ' These innocent and heart touch ing proofs of grateful respect, caused tears to roll down his toil marked cheeks; and no doubt those of devout thankfulness were mingled with them, by the recollection of the peculiar manner in which he had experienced the aid of Divine Providence on the spot over which he was passing. "At Elizabethtown a committee from Congress received him, and conducted him to the Point, where he entered a handseme boat, that had been prepared tp cenvey him te New-Yprk. "After receiving such propfs pf affectionate attachment, he .; arrived at New-Ycrk, and was inaugurated first president pf the United States en the 13th pf April. In making the neces sary arrangements cf his hpusehpld, he publicly anneunced, that neither visits cf business nor of ceremony would be expected on Sunday, as he wished to reserve, that day sacredly, to himself. "At the close of his first term of four years, he prepared a val edictory address to the American people, anxious to return again to the scenes of domestic life ; but the earnest entreaties of his friends, and the peculiar situation of his country, induced hini to be a candidate for a second election. During his administra tion of eight years, the labor of establishing the different depart ments ofa new government was accomplished; and he exhibited the greatest firmness, wisdom, and independence. He was an American, and he chose not to involve his country in the con- < tests of Europe. He accordingly, with the unanimous advice of his cabinet, consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox, and Randolph, issued a proclamation of neutrality, April 22, ' 1793, a few days after he heard of the, ^commencement ofthe war between England and France. This measure contributed, GEORGE WASHINGTON. 65 in a great degree, te the prosperity ef America. Its adcptton was the mere hpnprable to the president, as the general sympa thy was in favor of the sister republic, against whom it was said Great Britain had commenced the war for the sole purpose of imposing Upon her a monarchical form of government. He pre ferred the peace and welfare of his country to the breath of popular applause. Another act, in which, he proved himself to be less regardful of the public partialities and prejudices than of what he conceived- to be for the public good,' was the ratifi cation of the British treaty. The English government had ne glected to surrender the western posts, and by commercial re strictions, and in other -ways, had evinced a hostile spirit to wards this country. To avert the calamity of another' war, Mr. Jay was nominated as envpy extraprdinary, in April, 1794. In June, 1795, the treaty which Mr. Jay had made was submitted to the senate, and was ratified by that body, on the condition that one article should be altered. While the president was deliberating upon it, an incorrect copy of the instrument was made public by a senator, and the Whole country was thrown into a state of extreme irritation. At this period he, in August, conditionally ratified it: and in February, 1796, when it was re turned from his Britannic majesty with the proposed alteration, he declared it to be the law of the land. After this transac tion, the house of representatives reqested him to lay before them the papers relating to the treaty; but he, with great inde pendence, refused to comply with their request, as they could have no claim to an inspection of them except upon a Vote of impeachment, and as a compliance would establish a danger- bus precedent. He had, before this, shown a disposition to maintain the authority vested in his office, by declining to affix his signature to a bill which had passed b6th houses." When the time came for a third election of president, the. people felt that eight years of peace and prosperity, under the wise role of Washington, had increased the attachment and gratitude which he had merited by eight- years of faithful ser vice Hfrthe defence of their liberty; and again they were ready to unite in voting for him. But he firmly refused to be re-elect ed. He assured his countrymen, that he did not do so from any want of respect for theirvpast kindness, er from feeling less anx- 66 GEPRGE WASHINGTON. ious for their future prosperity; — that he had twice yielded to their wishes, because he thought that it was his duty to do so, but felt that then the happy state of their concerns would per mit his retiring to enjoy the quiet of his own home. As his de^ termination was firm, they did not persist in opposing it, and he prepared to take again the character of a private citizen. Dec. 7. In concluding his last speech to congress, he said, "I cannot omit the occasion to repeat my fervent supplications to the Supreme* Ruler of the Universe and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, that his providential care may still be extended to the United States; that the virtue and happiness ofthe people may, be preserved, and that the government, which they haye instituted for the protectiphpf their liberties, may be perpetual." Congress addressed to him an answer, in the name pf the peo ple, in which they expressed their sincere regret for his determi* natien"to retire from the public emplcyments pf his ccuntry ;" and ccncluded it with the wish, — "May you, long enjoy that liberty which is so dear to you, and to which your name will ever be dear. May your own virtue, and a nation's prayers, obtain the happiest sunshine for the decline of your days, and the choicest of future blessings. For our country's sake, — for the sake of re publican liberty, it is Our earnest wish, that your example may be the guide of ypur successors; and thus, after being the orna ment and safeguard ofthe present age, become the patrimony of our descendants." In every country, amongst the high and the low, the' rich and the poor, there are persons who delight in the employment of "bearing false witness" against the upright. They may have excuses for doing so, which satisfy themselves ; but if they would examine those excuses fairly, they would know that they are not such as they will venture to offer to the great Searcher of hearts, when they appear before him, to give an account of their evil thoughts and false words. The character of Washington was attacked by slanderous tongues; but "Malice never could blast his honpr." "Greatness and guilt have top pften been allied; but his fame was whiter than it was brilliant." ¦' : His last address tp his ccuntrymen was like that pf an affe# tionate father to a beloved family, and contained the most in structive, important^ and interesting ativice that was ever given GEORGE WASHINGTON. 67 by man to any nation. He counselled his countrymen to cher ish union as the main prop of their Uberty, and said, that "Party spirit was baneful in its effects; created jealousies and false fears; kindled enmities, and often caused riots;" and that the mis chiefs it occasioned, were "sufficient to make it theduty and inte rest of a wise people to disccurage and restrain -it-" He said, "Observe good faith and justice towards all nations; cultivate peace and harmony with all ; rehgion and morality enjoin this conduct." He recommended active attention to every means for increa sing useful instruction in every part of the country ; and said that religion and morality were the ?only sure supports of national prosperity; and that in vain would that man "claim, the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert those great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props ofthe duties , of men and citizens. The mere politician equally with the pieus man, ought to respect and cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connexions with public and private felicity," He said that there could be no safety for property or reputation, if there was no sense of the reUgious obligation of the oaths taken in a court of justice. That moraUty and reUgion must not be sepa rated, for there could be no certainty of upright conduct where there was no reUgious principle. In closing this important and affectionate fareweD address, he said, "Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error; I am, nevertheless, too sensible of my defects, not tp think it probable that I may ha»e committed many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shaft also carry with me the hope, that my country will never cease to view them with indulgence; and that after forty-five yeais of my life, dedicated to its service, with*, an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be con signed to pbhvipn, as myself must sepn be to the mansiens pf rest." Not maBy of his ccuntrymen had hearts sp cold as to be in different to this tender and instructive farewell, and it was re ceived with grateful feetings. It was long, and has been often. published; and all young Americans should read it with atten- 68 GEORGE WASHINGTON. tion, and make a firm determination, that they will endeavor to follow the important ahd affectionate ccunsel which the wise and virtucus Washington has left them as a legacy. He toiled through y ears of anxious cares to promote the happiness of his countrymen, and knowing that "sin is a disgrace to any people," but that "righteousness exalteth a nation," he earnestly entrea ted them to consider religion as the only lasting support of na tional prosperity. The rest for which Washington had longed, was not idleness; and when he had examined every part of his large farm which had been in Some degree neglected during his absence, he im mediately commenced the employment of improving it. His faithful mother, in forming his first habits, had not neglec ted that of early rising; and through the whole of his useful life, that habit was continued; in winter, he rose usually two hours before day; and in summer, was ready to enjoy the healthful freshness and beauty of the dawn. Thus did the man, who stands highest in the admiration of the world, and whose deeds were exalted and laborious, set an example tp his countrymen, which, if they imitate, they will gain for themselves many a pre cious hour; which, if well employed, may tend to secure the Di vine promise, "The Lord shall command the blessing uponihee in thy store-houses, and in all that thou settest thy hand unto; and he shall bless thee in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." The habit of early rising, in connexion with the exemplary one of strict attention te prder in all his emplpyments, gave Washington "time fer all things," sp that thpugh he had such numerous and ardupus public duties to attend to, he did not neglect any private ene, but performed with ease himself, what wpuld seem te be empleyment for many. He was remarkably jneat in his perspn; but used a very short portton pf time for at- tentien to his dress. After his return te his farm, he visited his stables every da^ te be certain that his horses were well taken care of. The one en which he rode, when he was directing the siege of York- town, he did not use again; it was allowed to graze on the best pasture in summer, and was carefully stabled in winter, and died of old age, several years after the close of the war. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 69 Washington was employed for several, heiws, each day, in visiting all parts cf his large- farm. He went alone, opening ahd shutting the gates, and pulling dewn and putting up the bars as he passed- «**t5ne day colonel Meade, a valued friend of Washington,»was met by Mr. Custis, a relatton pf Mrs. Washington; colcnel Meade inquired if he sheuld. find the general at the heuse, er if he was put on the farm'. Mr. Custis, not knowing colonel Meade, replied, that the general was out; and giving directions as to the part of the farm on which he would- probably be found, added, "You will meet, sir, with an old gentleman, fiding alone, in plain drab clothes, a broad brimmed white. hat, a hickory switch in his hand, and carrying an umbrella, with a long staff, which is attached to his saddle-bow, — that, sir, is general Washington!" The old friend of Washington ^replied, "Thank yef thank ye, young gentleman; 1 think, if I fall in with the general I shall be rather apt to know him." ^s^**"^ This description of Washington, gives us some knowledge of how he lppked on his farm. So many pictures of him, in differ ent situations, have been drawn, — and" young Americans have so often seen him represented on sign-posts in every part of the land, that they think they know exactly how he looked; but unless they had seen him, instead of pictures of him, they can have no correct idea of his noble appearance. ,«<&* In his youth he was remarkable for the straightness and man liness of his form, which was six feet and two inches high. The expression of his countenance was serious, but very pleasing; his eyes were a mild blue, and the flush of health gave a glow to his cheeks. His step was always firm; but after the toils of the long war, his body was a little bent as he walked, and his once smooth forehead and cheeks, were marked with care-worn furrows. The venerable Charles Wilson Peale, who was the founder ofthe Philadelphia Museum, and lived to enter his eighty- sixth year,drew a likeness of him, when he was cofonel Washington, in the seivice cf the king of England; and another, when he was the president pf the freed and United States. •<; ... At Harper's Ferry; are extensive public. werks for making ...military arms. If his ccuntrymen regard and follew the impor- 10 70 CEORGE WASHINGTON. -j%. tant farewell counsel of Washington, to "Observe good faith and justice towards all nation's, and to cultivate peace and harmony with all" these arms will not be used, except as weapons of defence; and then not until "the cup of reconciliation is exhausted to the last drop." A weekly school is kept at Harper's Ferry, for the children of the workmen, and they have the blessing of Sunday-school instruction. * If Washington had lived to the time when there are Sunday- schools in almost every portfon pf his native land, ne doubt as a christian*patriot, he would have rejoiced to see the children, which are to form a nation, taught to know their Creator as he has Tevealed himself in his word,; — to fear, obey, and love him, — and thus secure the blessing of "the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love him and keep his com mandments, to a thousand generations." ** Washington said, "Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to poUtical prosperity, religion and moraUty are indispensa ble supports." Certainly, then, he would have approved of h* fants being jtaught to lisp the pure precepts of the gospel, and trai« ned to restrain those natural dispositions, which,if indulged, would makeihem in manhood, useless or vicious members pf the'ccirimtt' nity.. He alsp said, that "without an humble imitation ofthe exKfifc pie of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, we cannot hope to be a happy nation.'i^And as Washington always acted as ff he believed what he expressed, he would have enccuragei§ilii1i effort to place in every family of his country the bible, which teaches what that divine example was, and how to obtain that ?'new heart," and "right spirit," which delights in follpwing-it. J ,-v ^j"jje wants 0f the ppor were neither forgotten nor neglected hy Washington. He contributed liberally to the suppeffllof schools for the children of the indigent; and the sick and the 'aged would bear testimony to the benevolence of his heart. ""On his farm he had a comfortable house built for an old En glish soldier, who had been an attendant of general BraddocK, at the time of his defeat; after his death, he entered into the service of Washington, and continued in it until the close, of the provincial war; he then married, and, a home was provided" for him at Mount Vernon. He was too old to follow his revered GEORGE WASHINGTON. 71 commander in the struggle for independence,, and was left at heme te enjey the comforts which old age requires. Children loved to visit the old soldier, and listen to his tales ofthe Indian war,, which he delighted in telling. When Washington was passing round his farm, he often stopped to gladden the heart of the gray -headed veteran with kind words; and he lived to enjey the cemforts which had been provided for him, until he was eighty years of age. -~~~ — — -^ „_^, — ^^^.^ — -The days of Washington were spent in useful employments, and his evenings in the enjoyment of domestic happiness. It was then his custom to read to his family, such new publications as interested him, and on Sunday evenings the bible and sermons. Sometimes he would sit, as if he forgot that he was not alone, and raising his hand iie would move his lips silently. In town or country, he was a constant attendent at church, and by his devout deportment there, proved that he went to church for the purpose of worshipping God. He always acknowledged by his example, that he felt his solemn obligation to keep holy the Sabbath day;- and to influence others to do so as far as was in his power. General Washington said, that "both reason and experience foUgg us to expect that morality can prevail to the exclusion of religious principle;" and this sentiment is well supp^rteTTJyTne gleat chief justice Hale, of England, who said, "that of all the persons who were convicted of capital crimes, while he was upon i§(J!pbench, he found a few only, whp would npt cenfess, on in quiry, that they began their career of wickedness by a neglect ofthe duties ofthe Sabbath, and vicious conduct on that day." And o doubt, the prisons of our country could produce a host pf Jesses to testify the same. Then the example of Washing- tdn jn remembering "the Sabbath day, to keep it holy," was that of a patriot as well as of a christian. The peaceful life of Washington on his farm was again dis turbed by a call from his countrymen to become their leader in the defence of their rights as a nation. The French republic had refused to receive general Pinckney^ a highly respectable American, whom Washington had sent to France as minister in the year 1796. He was ordered to quit the territories of France ; and at the same time that the French republic expressed great 72 GEORGE WASHINGTON. attachment to the people of 'the United States, €iey abused the government, and thus showed an intention to endeavor to sepa rate the people from their government. They also captured American vessels wherever they were found. The government of the»Unitcd States appointed three envoys, one of whom was general Pinckney, te endeavor te preserve peace "cuterms com patible with the rights, duties, interests, and honpr pf the nation." - In the spring of 1798, they informed their government that they had entirely failed, and were treated in a very insulting manner. Twe pf them were ordered to quit France, and one who was thought to be disposed to favor the designs of the French republic, was permitted to remain. That these designs were to attempt to make the American a tributary nation soon became plain, and throughout the United States the favorite sentiment of all parties was, "millions for defence, but net a cent fer tribute." Cengress determined en raising an army, and though they regretted to deprive the venerable Washington of that, rest; which he had earned by his past services, they complied t with the wishes of his countrymen, and requested him to accept the command ef the army. In his reply te this request, whicbJwas communicated in a letter from the president, he said, (^ply 4 3,) "I cannet express how greatly I am affected by this new proof of 'public confidence. * *•* * * * Satisfied that you h|$ sincerely wished and endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the last drop, the. cup of reconciliation; we can witfflMH hearts appeal to heaven for the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the final result to that kind Providence, who has heretofore, and sp often signally favored the people of tha| United States. Thinking in this manner, and feeling howlkk cumbent it is upon every person of every description, to co(|p bute at all times to his country's welfare, I have finally determin ed te accept the commission of commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, with this reserve only, that I shall not be called into the field until the army is in a situatien to require my presence, or it beccmes indispensable by the urgency of cir cumstances." He continued to employ himself on his farm, being ready at vny moment to obey a call to the duties of his appointment. He GEORGE WASHINGTON. 73' was Pne day (Dec. 13,) attending to some improvements which he had planned, when a .shower of rain fell; before he could reach a shelter, his clothes were wet: he changed them when he returned home, and sat down to an in-dobr employment, for he never passed an hour in idleness. In the evening, , when he joined his family at the tea-table, he said he felt a chilliness, and after drinking one cup of tea, he went into his library, where he remained alone all the evening, for his family knew that he wished npt tp be disturbed when he was there. His usual hpur for retiring to rest was 6 p'clcck. When that hcur had passed, Mrs. Washington became uneasy, because she did net hear his well known step, or his call to the family to prepare for bed. When at length he entered his chamber, she expressed her sur prise that he had staid in his library so late when he was not well; he replied, "1 came as soon as the business I was engaged in was accomplished ; you know that through life it has been my unvaried rule, never to put off till to-morrow the duties which should be performed to-day." Sppn after he laid dewn to rest, he was seized with a vielent disease in his threat, accempanied with a fever. He weuld npt disturb his family until towards morning, and he was then bled, but did not feel relieved. At 11 o'cjRckhis physician, who was a long loved friend, arrived, and on seeing him, became so much alarmed that he desired that two other physicians might be sent for. They came, but all human skill was useless. When Washington felt the chill the evening before, he believed it- to be a messenger from his Creator to warn him to prepare for entering "the valley ef the shadew of death;" and he pnly censented te take the medicines which were effered to him, because he thought it was his duty to gratify his anxious friends. He rose from his bed, and named a jdace where two papers would be found which he wished to have. When they were brought, he directed that ene shpuld be destroyed, but said, taking the ether in his hand, "preserve this, it is my will." His disease increased se much that he could not swallow, and he undressed himself and laid down to die, re questing that he might not be disturbed, and saying, with calm ness, "I am dying, and have been dying fora Jong time, but I am not afraid to die."- He did not speak again until the night was far advanced, and then he asked faintly, what was the hour, \4 GEPRGE WASHINGTON. and was answered, "near 12 o'clock." In a few minutes he stretched his form tp its- full length, folded his arms across his breast, and his countenance became so placid, as his "spirit re turned to God who gave it," (Dec. 14,) that the friends who were*watching him in almost breathless silence, did not know the moment of his death. His loved wife kneeled beside his bed, with her head resting on the bible, in which she daily read the precepts and cheering promises of her Saviour; and they comforted* her in her hour of deepest sorrow. Her miniature portrait was found on the bosom of Washington, where he had worn it for forty years. The report of his death reached eongress "before they knew ef his sickness; and when they heard it, a splemn silence pre vailed for several, minutes-; judge Marshall, the present chief justice cf the United States, ebserved, "This infermatipn is not certain, but there' is too much reason to believe it true. * After receiving intelligence of a national calamity so heavy and af flicting, the house of representatives can be but ill-fitted, fos public business." He then moved an adjournment, and both houses adjourned until the next day. When congress then met, Mr. Marshall rose and said, "The melancholy event, Which was yesterday anneund|^ wifli doubt, has been rendered but too certain; our Washington is ho more ! The here, the patrtot, the sage ef America — the man on whom in times of danger every eye was turned, and all hojksL were placed, lives now only in his own great actions, and the hearts of an affectionate and afflicted people. If it had even' not been usual openly to testify respect for the memory of those ' whom heaven has selected as it's instruments for dispensing goodf to man, yet such has- been the uncommon worth, and such the extraordinary incidents which have marked the life of him whose loss we deplore, that the whole American nation, impelled hy the same feelings, would call with one voice for a public mani festation of that sorrow, which is so deep and so universal. More than any other individual, and as much as to one indi vidual was possible, he has contributed to found this our wide- spreading empire, and to give the western world independence" and freedom. Having effected the great object for which he was placed at the head of our armies, we have seen him con- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 75 vert the sword into the ploughshare, and sink the soldier into the citizen. "When the debility of our federal system had become mani fest, and the bonds which connected this vast continent were dissolving, we have seen him the chief of those patriots who have formed for us a constitutton, which, by preserving' the union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate those blessings which our revolutton had promised to bestow. "In obedience to the general veice of his country callihg him tc preside hver a great pepple, we have seen him Once mere quit the retirement he leved, and in a season more Stormy and tempestupus than war itself, with Calm and wise determinaticn pursue the true interests pf the nation, and centribute mpre than any ether could contribute, to the establishment of that system of policy, which will, I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honor, and our independence. Having been twice unanimously cho sen the chief magistrate Ofa free people, We have seen him, at a time when his re-election with universal suffrage could not be doubted, afford to the world a rare instance of moderation, by withdrawing from his station to the peaceful walks of pri vate life. However public confidence may change, and the publieAffections fluctuate with respect tc others, they have in war and in peace, in public and in private life, been as steady as his own firm mind, and as constant as his own exalted virtues. "Let us, then, pay the last tribute of respect to our departed friend^* Yet the grand council of the nation display those sen timents which the nation feels." Mr. Marshall then proposed several resolutions; one of which was, "Resolved, That a committee, in conjunction with one from the senate, be appeinted tp cpnsider en the mest suitable manner pf paying honpr to the memory of the man, first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow citizens." The senate addressed a letter to the president, in which they said, "Permit us, sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this occasion it is manly to weep. To lose such a man at such a crisis, is no common calamity to the world. Our country mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of human events, has taken from us our greatest benefactor and prnament. It be- cemes us to submit with reverence to him 'who maketh dark ness his pavilion.' " 76 JOSESfi WARREN. The president returned an answer expressive ef his sorrow for the death ef Washington, and in the ccnclusicn pf it, said, "His example is new complete; and it will teach wisdcm and virtue te magistrates, citizens and men, net pnly in the present age, but in future generations, as leng as pur history shall be read." The pepple throughout the United States, mourned for Wash ington. • They had been ever ready to unite in expressing their grateful attachment to him, and they felt that they had indeed lost their greatest benefactor. In his will, which was a just and benevolent one, he directed that his body should be laid in a vault, at Mount Vernon, and added, "It is my express desire, that my corpse may be interred in a private manner, without parade or funeral oration." On the 18th of December, he was laid in the grave, "the house appointed for all living;" and the last home of Washing ton is an humble grass-covered tomb, surrounded with ever greens. JOSEPH WARREN, Major-General in the American Army. JosErH Wauren, whose biography is given in the following pages, was born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, in the year 1741. His. father was a respectable farmer in that town, and was elec ted by his fellow citizens to several municipal offices, the duties of which he discharged to general acceptance. Littjte is known respecting the early years of young Warren. Joseph, with, se veral of his brothers, was instructed in the elementary branches of. knowledge, at the public grammar school of the town, which Was distinguished for its successive instructors of superior attain ments. In 1755, he entered college, where he sustained the character of a youih of talents, fine manners, and ofa generous, independent deportment, united to great personal, courage and perseverance. An anecdote will illustrate Ms fearlessness and determination at that age, when character can hardly be said JOSEPH WARREN. 77 to be formed. Several students of Warren's class shut them- "selves in a room to arrange some college affairs, in a way which they knew was contrary to his wishes, and barred the door so effectually that he could not without great violence force it: but he did not give over the attempt of getting among them; for perceiving that the window of the room in which they, were assembled was open, and near a spout which extended from the roof of the building to the ground, he went to the top ofthe house, slid down to the eaves, seized the spout, and when he had de scended as far as the window, threw himself into the chamber among them. At that instant the spout, which was decayed and weak, gave way and fell to the ground. He looked at it without emotion, said that it had served his purpose, and began to take his part in the business. A spectator of .this feat and narrow escape related this fact to me in the college yard, nearly half a century afterwards; and the impression it made on his mind was so strong, that -he seemed to feel the same emotion as though it-happened but an hour before. On leavitfg college in 1759, Warren turned his, attention to the study of medicine, under the direction of Dr. Lloyd, an emi nent physician of that day, • whose valuable life has been pro tracted almost to the present time. Warren was distinguished very soon after he commenced practice ; for when, in 1764, the small-pox spread in Boston, he was among the most successful in* his method of treating that disease, which was then considered • the most dreadful scourge of the human race-; and the violence of which had baffled the efforts of the learned faculty of medi cine from the time of its first appearance. From this moment he stopd high among his brethren, and was^ the faverite pf the pepple; and what he gained in their gepd will he* never lost. His personal appearance, his address, his courtesy, and his hu manity, won the way '.to the hearts of all; and his1 knowledge and superiority, of talents, secured the conquest. A bright and lasting fame in his profession, with the attendant consequences, wealth and influence, were within his reach, and near at hand; but the calls of a distracted cpuntry were,' par ampunt to every . consideration of .his own interests, and he, entered the vortex pf feipclitics never .to. return to the peaceful ccursc pf professfonal *abpr. .+ t fK . , il 78 JOSEPH WARREN. The change in public ppihfon had been gradually preparing the minds ef most men for a revolution. This was not openly avowed; amelioration of treatment for the present, and assuran ces of kindness in future, were all that the colonies asked from Great Britain — but these they did hot receive. The mother country mistook the spirit of her children, and used threats, when kindness Would have been the best policy. When Bri tain ueclared her right to direct, govern* and tai us in any form, and at all times, the colonies reasoned, remonstrated, and en treated for a while; and wheh these means did not answer, they defied and resisted. The political Writers of the province had been active and busy, but they were generaUy screened by ficti tious names, or sent their productions anonymously into the world: but the time had arrived* wheh speakers of nerve and boldness Were wanted to raise their voices against oppression in every shape. Warren possessed first rate qualities for an ora tor, and had early declared in the strongest terms his political sentiments, which were somewhat in advance of public opinion; for he held as tyranny all taxation, which could be imposed by the British parliament upon the colonies. In times of danger, the people are sagacious, and Clihg to those who best can serve them; ahd every eye Was on him in every emergency; for he had not only the firmness and decision they wished for iti a lea der,' but was prudent ahd wary in all his plans. His first object Was to enlighten the people; and then he felt sure of ehgaging their feelings in the general cause. He knew when once Ihey begah, it wOuld be impossible to tread back— independeneejtfoly would satisfy the country. With an intention of directing pub lic sentiment, without appearing to be too active, he met fre quently with a considerable number of substantial^ mechanics, and others in the middling classes of society, who were busy in politics. This crisis required such a man as they found him to , be; one who could discern the signs ofthe times, and mould lie ductile materials to his will, and at the same time seem only to follow in the path of others. His letter to Barnard, Which at tracted the notice of government, had been Written several years before, in 1768; but in some form or other he was constantly en- ? lightening the people by his pen: but it is now difficult, and of* no great importance to trace hiip, in the papers of that period.* JOSEPH WARREN. 79 The public was not then always right in designating the authors of political essays. In the different situations in which he was called to act, he assumed as many characters as fable has ever given to the tutelar gpd of his profession, and like him, in every one of them he retained the wisdom to guide, and the power to charm. At one time he might be found 'restraining the impetuosity, and bridling the fury of those hot-headed poli ticians who felt more than they reasoned, and dared to do more than became men. Such was iris versatility, that he turned from these lectures cf caution and prudence, to asserting and defending the mpst bpld and undisguised principles cf liberty, and defying in their very teeth the agents ofthe crown. Twice, he was elected to deliver the oration on the 5th of March, in commemoration ofthe massacre; and his orations are among the most distinguished, produced by that splendid list of speakers who addressed their fellow-citizens on this subject, so interest ing to them a-lL - In ithese productions, generally, the immedi ate causes of this event were overlooked, and the remote ones alone were discussed. Here they were on safe ground; for .tyranny, in its incipient stages, has no excuse from, opposition; but in Ms march, it generally finds some plausible arguments for ih proceedings, .drawn from the very resistance it naturally pro duces. These occasions gave the .orators a fine field for re mark, and a fair opportunity for effect. The great orators of antiquity, in their speeches^ attempted only to rouse the people to retain what/they possessed. Invective, entreaty, and pride had their .effect in assisting these mighty masters to influence the people. They were ashamed to lose what their fathers left them, won by theii blood, and so long preserved by their wis dom, their,, virtues and their courage. Our statesmen had a hard task to perform; for they were compelled to call on the people to gain what they had never enjoyed — an independent rank and standing among the nations of the world. His next oration was delivered March )6th, 1775. It was at his own solicitation that he was appointed to this duty a second time. The fact is illustrative of his character, and worthy of remembrance. /Some British officers of the army then in Bos ton, had publicly declared that itfihould be at the price of the ! -life of any man to speak of the event of March ,5, 1770, on that 80 JOSEPH WARREN. anniversary. Warren's soul took fire at such a threat, so openly made, and he wished for the honor of braving; it. This was readily granted; for at such a time a man would probably find but few rivals. Many who would spurn the thought of personal fear, might be apprehensive that they would he' so far discon certed as to forget their discourse. It is easier to fight bravely, than to think clearly .jjt correctly in danger. Passion, some times nerves the arm to fight, but disturbs the regular currentof thought. The day came, and the weather was remarkably fine. The Old South meeting-house was crowded at an early hour. The British officers occupied the aisles, the flight of steps to the pulpit, and several of them were within it. It was not precisely known whether this was accident or design. The orator, with the assistance of his friends, made his entrance at the pulpit win dow by a ladder. The officers, seeing his coolness and intre pidity, made way for him to advance and address the audience. An awful stillness preceded his exordium. Each man felt the palpitations of his own heart, and saw the pale, but determined face of his neighbor.-— The speaker began his oration in a firm tone of voice, and proceeded with great energy and pathos. Warren and his friends were prepared to chastise contumely, prevent disgrace, and avenge an attemptat assassination. The scene was sublime; a patriot, in whom the flush of youth and the grace and dignity of manhood were combined,, stood armed in the sanctuary of God, to animate and encourage the sons of liberty, and to hurl defiance at their oppressors. The orator commenced with the early history of the country, des cribed the tenure by which we held our liberties and property — the affection we had constantly shown the parent country, and boldly told them how, and by whom these blessngs of life had been violated. There was in this appeal to Britain — in this description of suffering, agony and horror, a calm and high- souled defiance which must have chilled the blood of every sen sible foe. Such another hour has seldom happened in the his tory of man,' and is not surpassed in the records of nations. The thunders of Demosthenes rolled at a distance from Philip and his host— and Tully poured the fiercest torrent of his invective when Cataline was at a distance, and his dagger no longer to be* feared; but Warren's speech was made to proud oppressors rest- JOSEPH WARREN. 81 ing on their arms, whose errand it was to overawe, and whose business it was to fight. If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemorated* by his tory, poetry^ painting, and sculpture^ should not this instance of patriotism and bravery be held in lasting remembrance ? If he "That struck the foremost man of all this world," . was hailed as the first of freemen, what honors are not due to him, who, undismayed, bearded the British lion, to show the world what his countrymen dared to do in the cause of liberty ? If the statue of Brutus was placed among those of the gods, who were the preservers of Roman freedom, should not that of War ren's fill a lofty niche in the temple reared to perpetuate the re membrance of our birth as a nation ? If independence was not at first openly avowed by our leading men at that time, the hope of attaining it was fondly cherished, and the exertions ofthe patriots, pointed to this end. The wise knew that the storm, which the political Prosperos were raising, would pass away in blood. With these impressiens on his mind,* Warren for several years was preparing himself by study and observation, to take a conspicuous rank in the military arrange ments which he knew must ensue. On the I8th of April, 1775, by his agents in Boston, he dis covered the design of the- British commander to seize or destroy our few stores at Concord. He instantly despatched several confidential messengers to Lexington. The late venerable pa triot, Paul Revere, was one of them. This gentleman has given a very interesting account of the difficulties he encountered in the discharge of this duty. The alarm was given, and the mili tia, burning with resentment, were at day-break,' on the 19th, on the rpad to repel insult and aggression. The drama was opened about sunrise, within a few yards of the house of God, in Lex ington. Warren hastened to the field of action, in the full ardor of his soul, and shared the dangers ofthe day. While pressing on the enemy, a musket ball took off a lock of his hair close to his ear. The lock was rolled and pinned, after the fashipn pf that day, and ccnsiderable force must have been necessary to have cut it away.1- The people were delighted with his cool, collec ted bravery, and already considered him as a leader whose gal- 82 JOSEPH WARREN. lantry they were to admire, and in whose talents they were to confide. On the 14th ef June, 1775, the provincial congress of Massachusetts made him a major-general of their forces, but previous to the date of his commission, he had been unceasing in his exertions to maintain order and enforce discipline among the troops, which had hastily assembled at Cambridge, after the battle of Lexington. He mingled in the ranks, and by every method and argument strove to inspire them with confidence, and succeeded in a most wonderful manner in imparting to them a portion ofthe flame which glowed in his own breast. At such a crisis genius receives its birth-right — the homage of infe rior minds, who for self-preservation are willing to be directed. Previous to receiving the appointment of major-general, he had been requested to take the office of physician-general to the army, but he chose to be where wounds were to be made, rather than where they were to be healed. Yet'he lent his aid and ad vice to the medical department of the army, and was of great service to them in their organization and an angements. He was at this time president of the provincial congress, hav ing been electedthe preceding year a member fromthe town of Boston. In this body he discovered his extraordinary powers of mind, and his peculiar fitness for responsible offices at such a juncture. Cautious in proposing measures, he was assiduous in pursuing what he thought, after mature deliberation, to be right, and never counted the probable cost of a measure, when he bad decided that it was necessary to be taken. When this congress, Whidh was sitting at Watertown, adjourned for the day,he moun ted his horse and 'hastened to the camp. Every day 'he bought golden opinions of all sorts- of men;' and when the troops were called to act on Breed's Hill, he had so often been among them, that his person was known to most of the soldiers. Several respectable historians have fallen into some errors in describing the battle in which he fell, by giving-the commandof the troops on that day to Warren, when he, was only a volunteer in the fight. He did not arrive on 'the battle ground until the enemy had commenced their movements for the attack. As soon as he made his appearance on the field, the veteran com mander of the day, colonel Prescott, desired to act under his di rections, but Warren declined taking any other part than that JOSEPH WARREN. 8?> of a volunteer, and added that he came to learn the art of war from an experienced soldier, whose orders he should' be happy to obey. In the hattie he was armed with a musket, and stood in the ranks, now and then changing his place to encourage .his- fellow soldiers by words and example. He undoubtedly, from the state of hostilities, expected soon to act in his high military capacity, and it was indispensable, according to his views, that he should share the dangers of the field as a common soldier with his fellcw citizens, that his reputation for bravery might be put beyond the possibility of a suspicion. The wisdom of such a ccurse wpuld never have been doubted, if he had returned in safety from the fight. In such a struggle foi independence, the ordinary rules of prudence and caution could not govern those" who were building up their names for future usefulness by pre sent exertion. Some, maxims drawn from the republican wri ters cf antiquity were worn as their mottos. Some precepts descriptive ofthe charms of liberty, were ever on their tongues,. and some classical model of Greek or Roman patriotism, was constantly in their minds. Instances of great men mixing in the ranks of common soldiers, were to be found in ancient times, when men fought for their altars and their homes. The cases were parallel, and the. examples were imposing. When the battle was decided, and our people fled, Warren was ene ef the last whp left the breast-werk, and was slain within a few yards pf it, as he was sfowly retiring. He probably felt mortified at the event of the day, but had he known how dearly the victory was purchased, and how little honor was gained by those who won it, his heart might have been at rest. Like the band of Leonidas, the vanquished have received by the judgment of na tions, from which there is no appeal, the imperishable laurels of victors. His death brought a sickness tc the heart of the com munity; and the people mourned his fall, not with the ccnvul- sive agony of a betrothed virgin over the bleeding corse of her lover— -but with the. pride pf the Spartan mother, whp in the intensity of her grief, smiled to see that the wounds whence life had flown, were !on the breast, of her son — and was satisfied that he had died in the defence of his country. The worth of the victim, and the horror of the sacrifice, gave a higher value to our liberties, and produced a more fixed determination to pre serve them, 84 JPSEPH WARREN. -. The battle pf Bunker Hill has pften been.described, and of late its minutest details given to the public, but never was the military, mural, and pplitical character cf that great event more forcibly drawn, than in the following extract from the North American Review, for July, 1818: — "The incidents and fhe result of the battle itself, were most important, and indeed, piost wonderful. As a mere battle, few surpass it,in whatever engages and interests the attention." It was fought on a conspicuous eminence, in the immediate neighbor hood of a populous city; and consequently in the view of thou sands of spectators., . The attacking army. moved over asheet of water to the assault. The- operations and movements were of Course all visible, and distinct. — Those who looked on-from the houses and heights of Boston had a fuller view of every impor tant operation and event, than can ordinarily be had of any bat tle, or than can possibly be had of such as are fought on a more extended ground, or by detachments of troops acting on different, places, and at different times, and in some measure indepen-. dently of each other.- — When the British columns were.advan-4 cing to the attack, the flames ofCharleston,.(firedasisgenerallyj supposed,, by a shell,) began-to ascend. The spectators, far out numbering both armies, .thronged and crowded on every, height and every point which afforded a view ofthe scene, themselves constituted a very important part of it. "The troops of the two armies seemed like so many combat ants in an amphi-tbeatre. — The manner in which they should acquit themselves, was to be judged of, not as in other cases oi^s military engagements, by reports and future history, but by a vast and anxious assembly already on the spot, and waiting with unspeakable concern and emotion, the progress of the day. "In other battles the recollection of wives and children has been used as an excitement to animate the warrior's breast and nerve his arm. Here was not a mere recollection, but an ac tual presence of them, and, other dear connexions, hanging on the skirts of the battle, anxious and agitated, feeling almost. asif wounded themselves by every blpw pf the enemy, and putting forth, as it were, their own strength, and all the energy of their, own throbbing bosoms, into every gallant effort of their warring friends. JOSEPH WARREN. 85 "But there was a more comprehensive and vastly more impor tant view of that day's contest thanhas been mentioned, — a view indeed, which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what was imme diately before them, did not embrace, but which was perceived in its full extent and expansion, by minds of a higher order. Thpse men who were at the head of the colonial councils, who had been engaged for years in the previous stages ef the quarrel with England, and who had been accustomed to look forward to the future, were well apprised of the magnitude of the events likely to hang on the business of that day. They saw in it not only a battle, but the beginning efa civil war, cf unmeasured ex tent and uncertain issue. All America and all England were likely to be deeply concerned in the consequences. The indi viduals themselves, wftf knew full well what agency they had had, in bringing affairs to this crisis, had need of all their cour age; — not that disregard of personal safety, in which the vulgar suppose true courage to consist, but that high and fixed moral sentiment, that steady and decided purpose, which enables men to pursue a distant end, with a full view of the difficulties and dangers before them, and with a conviction that, before they ar rive at the proposed end, should they ever reach it, they must pass through" evil report as well as good report, and be liable to obloquy, as well as to defeat. "Spirits, that fear npthing else, fear disgrace; and this danger is necessarily enccuntered by those who engage in civil war. unsuccessful resistance is not only ruin to its authors, but is es teemed, and necessarily so, by the laws of all countries, treason able. This is the case, at least till resistance becomes so gene ral and formidable as to assume the form of regular war. But who can tell, when resistance commences, whether it will attain even to that degree of success? Some of those persons who signed the declaration of independence in 1776, described them selves as signing it, 'as with halters about their necks.' If there were grounds for this, remark in 1776, when the cause had become so much more general, how much greater was the ha zard, when the battle of Bunker Hill was fought? "These considerations constituted, to enlarged and liberal minds, the moral sublimity of the occasion; while to the outward senses the movement of armies, the roar of artillery, the bril- 12 86 JOSEPH WARREN. liancy of the reflection of a summer's sun from the burnished armour of the British columns, and the flames of a burning town, made up a scene of extraordinary grandeur. "This eminence has become sacred ground. It contains in its bosom the ashes of the brave who died fighting- to defend their altars and their homes. Strangers from all countries visit this spot, for it is associated in their memories with Marathon and Platsea, and all the mighty struggles of determined freemen. Our citizens love to wander over this field — the aged to awake recollections, and the youthful to excite heroic emotions. The battle ground is now all plainly to be seen — the spirit of modern improvement, which would stop the streams of Helicon to turn a mill and cause to be felled the trees of Paradise to make a rafter, has yet spared this hallowed height. "If 'the days of chivalry be gone forevier,' and the high and enthusiastic feelings of generosity and magnanimity be not so widely diffused as in more heroic ages, yet it cannot be denied but that there have been, and still are, individuals whose bo soms are warmed with a spirit as glowing and ethereal as ever swelled the heart of 'mailed knight,' whe, in the ecstacies of love, religion, and martial glory, joined the war-cry on the plains of Palestine, er proved his steel pn the infidel foe. The history of every revolution is interspersed with brilliant episodes of indi vidual prowess. The pages of our own history, when fully writ ten out, will sparkle profusely with these gems of romantic valor. "The calmness and indifference of the veteran 'in clouds of dust, and seas of blood,' can only be acquired by long acquain tance with the trade of death; but the heights of Charlestown will bear eternal testimony how suddenly, in the cause of free dom, the peaceful citizen can become the invincible warrior- stung by oppression, he springs forward from his tranquil pur suits, undaunted by opposition, and undismayed by danger* to fight even to death for the defence of his rights. Parents, wives, children, and country, all the hallowed properties of ex istence, are to him the talisman that takes fear from his heart, and nerves his arm to victory. •'In the requium over those whp have fallen in the cause of their ccuntry, which 'Time with his own eternal lips shall sing,' , JOSEPH WARREN. 87 the praises oi*Warren shall he distinctly heard. The bfopdjof those patriots who have fallen in the defence of republics, has often 'cried from the ground' against the ingratitfKie of the coun try for which it was shed. No menument was reared to their ' fame; np recerd cf their virtues written; np fostering hand ex tended to their offspring — but they and their deeds were ne glected and forgotten. Toward Warren there was no ingrati tude — our country is free from this stain. Congress were the' guardians .of his honor, and remembered that his children were unprotected orphans. Within a year after his death congress passed the following resolutions: '•That a monument be erected to the memory of general Warren, in the town of Boston, with the following inscription: In honor of JOSEPH WARREN, Major-General of Massachusetts Bay, He devoted hisMfe to the. liber ties of his country, and, in Dravely defending them, ¦¦ fell an early vic- i tim in the BATTtE OF BTTNREB HTLI,, June 17, 1775* . The congress of, the United States, as an acknowledgment of his ser- *• •> vices and "distinguished merit, have erected this monument to his memory. "It was resolved, likewise, 'that the eldest son of general Warren should be educated, from that time, at the expense of the United States,' On the 1st of July, 1780, congress recog nising these former resolutions, farther resolved, 'That it should be recommended to the executive of Massachusetts Bay, to make provision for the maintenance and education of his three younger children. And that congress would defray the expense to the amouat of half-pay of a major-general, to commence at the time of his death, and continue till tbe youngest of the children 8b NATHANIEL GREENE. shculd be. of age.' The part of the reselutions relating to the education pf the children, 'was carried into effect accordingly, The monument is not yet erected, but it is not top late. The shade of Warren will not repine at this,neglect, while the^shes of Washington repose without grave- stone or epitaph.'** NATHANIEL GREENE, Major-General in the American Army. Perhaps nothing more strikingly illustrates the excellency of free institutions, than the facilities afforded indigent merit of rising by its own exertions to its proper station in the community. It was this circumstance which enabled Nathaniel Greene, the son of an anchor maker, and a member of the spciety cf Friends, to emerge from pbscurity and become cne ef the mpst distin- ' guished pf that gloripus banc, that achieved eur national inde pendence. Greene was, in all respects, what is properly $ermed ., a "self-made man." That is, he was his own instructor, and the founder of his own fame and fortune. He was the second son of Nathaniel Greene, and was batn, 1741, inthe town of Warwick, ccunty pf Kent, Rhode Island- Being intended by his father, for the business which he him-\ self pursued, young Greene received, at school, nothing butfthe* elements of a common English education. But to him, an edu cation sp limited, was unsatisfactory. With such funds as he was able fo raise, he purchased a small, but well selected li brary, and spent his evenings, and all the time he could redeem from his father's business, in regular study. . At. a period of life) unusually early, Greene was elevated, -by a very flattering suffrage, tp a seat in the legislature of his na tive colony. This was the commencement of a pubhc career,, which, heightening as it advanced, and flourishing in the midst of difficulties, closed with a lustre that was peculiarly dazzling. Ibil'il' ?Biographical Sketches. NATHANIEL GREENE. 89 Thus introduced into the councils cf his ccuntry, at a time, when the rights pf the subject, and the powers of the ruler, were beginning to be topics of liberal discussion, he felt it his duty tp avpw his sentiments en the momentous questien. Npr did he pause pr waver, as te the principles he sheuld adppt, and the decisien he should form.. He was inflexibly opposed to ty ranny and oppression in every shape, and manfully avowed it. But his character, although forming, was not completely develo ped until the commencement of the troubles which terminated in our independence. It was then that he aspired to a lead in the public councils; and, throwing from him, as unsuitable to the the times, the peaceful habits in which he had been educated, sternly declared for a redress of grievances, or ppen resistance. This cpen departure from the sectarian principles in which he hau been educated, was followed, of course, by his immediate dismission from the society of Friends. The sword was 'earliest unsheathed in the colony of Massa chusetts; and on the plains of Lexington and Concord, the blood of British soldiers, and American subjects, mingled first in hos tile strife. Nor was Rhode Island, after that sanguinary affair, behind her sister colonies, in gallantry of spirit and promptitude of preparation. . Greene commenced his military pupilagein the capacity of a private soldier, in October, 1774, in a military association, commanded- by James M. Varnum, afterwards brigadier-gene ral. But Rhode Island having in the month of May, 1775, rai sed three regimerfts of militia, she placed them under the com mand of Greene, who, without loss of time, .conducted them to head quarters, in the village of Cambridge. On the 2d of July, 1775, general Washington, invested by congress with the command in chief ofthe armies of his country, arrived at Boston. Greene availed himself of an early oppor tunity amid the public demonstration of joy, to welcome the commander-in-chief, in- a^personal address, in which, with much warmth of feeling, and kindness of expression, he avowed his attachment to his person, and the high gratification he derived from the prospect cf being associated' With him in arms, and serving under him, in defence of the violated rights of his country. 90 NATHANIEL GREENE. This was a happy prelude to a friendship between these two great and illustrious officers, which death alone had the power to dissolve. It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and ac quaintance had made him thoroughly acquainted with the char acter of general Greene, Washington entertained and frequent ly, expressed an anxious wish,that, incase of his death, he might be appointed his successor to the supreme command. During the investment of Boston, by the American forces, a state of things which lasted for months, no opportunity presen ted itself to Greene, to acquire distinction, by personal exploit. But his love of action, and spirit of adventure, were strongly manifested; for he was one of the few officers of rank, who con curred with general Washington, in the propriety of attempting to carry the town hy assault. On the evacuation of Boston by the British, the American troops were permitted to repose from their toils, and to exchange, for a time, the hardships and privations of a.field encampment, for the enjoyment of plenty, in comfortable barracks.. During this period of relaxation, Greene continued, with unabating in dustry, his military studies, and as far as opportunity served, his attention to the practical duties of the field. This course, stea dily pursued, under the immediate supervision of Washington, could scarcely fail to procure rank, and lead to eminence. Ac cordingly, on the 26th of- August, 1776, he was promoted, by- congress, to the rank of major-general inthe regular army. A crisis, most glowing and portentous to the cause of freedom had now arrived. In the retreat which ttow commenced, through New-Jersey, general Washington was accompanied by general Greene, and received from him all the aid, that, under circumstances, so dark and unpromising, talents j devotion, and firmness could afford. Possessed alike of an ardent tempera ment, hearts that neither danger nor misfortune could appal, and an inspiring trust in the .righteousness of their cause, it be longed to the character of these two great and illustrious com manders, never for a moment to despair of their country. Hope and cpnfidence, even new, beamed from their ceuntenances, and they encouraged, their followers, and supported them under the pressure of defeat and misfortune. Greene was one of the council of Washington, who resolved Nathaniel greene. 91 on the enterprise of the 26th of December, 1776, against the post of the enemy at Trenton. The issue is known, and is glo rious in our history. About one thousand Hessians, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, with their arms, field equipage, and artillery, were the trophies of that glorious morning, which opened on the friends of American freedom, with the day-star of hope. He was again ofthe council ofthe commander-in- chief, in planning the daring attack ofthe 2d of January, 1777, on the British garrison at Princeton, as well as his associate in achieving its execution. In both these brilliant actions, his gal lantry, prudence, and skill, being alike conspicuous, he received the applauses of his commander. He continued the associate and most confidential ceunseller pf Washington, through the glepmy and ominous period that followed. In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandywine, general Greene, by his distinguished ccnduct added greatly tc his former renown. In the course of it, a detachment of American troops, commanded by general Sullivan, being.unexpectedly attacked by the enemy, retreated in disorder. General Greene, at the head of Weeden's Virginia brigade, flew to their support. On approaching, he found the defeat of general Sullivan a perfect rout. Not a moment was to be lost. Throwing himself into the rear of his flying countrymen, and retreating slowly, he kept up, especially from his cannon, so destructive a fire, as greatly to retard the advance of the enemy. Aiming at length at a nar row defile, secured on the right and left by thick woods, he hal ted, sent forward his cannon, that they might be out of danger, in case of his being compelled to a hasty retreat, and formed his troops, determined to dispute the pass with his small arms. This he effected with complete success, notwithstanding the vast su periority ofthe assailants; until after a conflict of more than an hour and a half, night came on, and brought it to a close. But for this quick-sighted interposition, Sullivan's detachment must have been nearly annihilated. , On thjs occasion only, did the slighest misunderstanding ever occur between general Greene and the commander-in-chief. In his general orders after the battle, the latter neglected to bestow any special applause on Weeden's brigade. Against this, general Greene remonstrated in person. 92 NATHANIEL GREENE. General Washington replied, "You, sir, are considered my favorite officer. Weeden's brigade, like myself, are Virgin ians, Should I applaud them for their achievement under your command, I shall be charged with partiality; jealousy will be excited, and the service injured." "Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable emotion, "I trust your excellency will do me the justice to believe that I am not selfish. In my own behalf, I have nothing to ask. Act towards me as you please; I shall not complain. However richly I prize your excellency's good opinion and applause, a consciousness that I have endeavored to do my duty, constitutes at present) my richest reward. But do not, sir, let me entreat you, on ac count ofthe jealousy that may arise in little minds, withhold jus tice from the brave fellows I had the honor to command." Convinced that prudence forbade the special notice requested,, the commander-in-chief persisted in his silence. Greene, on cool reflection, appreciated the motives of his general, and lost no time in apologizing for his intemperate manner, if not for his expressions. — Delighted with his frankness and magnanimity, Washington replied, with a smile, — "An officer, tried as you have been, whe errs but ence in twe years, deserves to be for given." — With that, he effered him his hand, and the matter terminated. Felfowing general Greene in his military career, he next pre sents himself en the plains ef Germantown. In this daring as sault, he commanded the left wing of the American army, and his utmost endeavors were used to retrieve the fortune ofthe day, in which his conduct met the approbation of the comman der-in-chief. Lord Cprnwallis, tp whom he was often opposed, had the magnanimity to bestow on him a lofty encomium. "Greene," said he, "is as dangerous as Washington. He is vigilant, enterprising, and full of resources. With but little hope of gaining any advantage over him, I never feel secure when encamped in his neighborhood." At this period, the quarter-master department in tlie Ameri can army, was in a very defective and .alarming condition, and required a speedy and radical reform; and general Washington declared, that such reform could be effected only by the ap pointment of a quartcr-master-general, of great resources, well NATHANIEL GREENE. 93 Versea in business, and possessing practical talents of the first order. When requested by congress to fopk put for such an officer, he, at ence, fixed his eyes en general Greene. Washington well knew that the soul of Greene was indissO* lubly wedded te the duties pf the^Une^ Notwithstanding this, he expressed, in conversatien with »a member cf congress, his entire persuasion, that if general Greene cculd be convinced cf his ability to render his cpuntry, greater services in the quarter master department, than in the field, he wpuld at once accept the appointment. "There is not," said he, "an officer of the arniy, nor a man in America mPre sincerely attached te the in terests pf his country. Could he best promote their interests in the character of a corporal, he would exchange, as I firmly believe, without a murmur, the epaulet- for the knot. For al though he is not withput ambitipn, that ambition has not for its object, the highest rank so much as the greatest good.^ When the appointment was first offered general Greene, he declined it, but after a conference with the commander-in-chief, he consented to an acceptance, on condition, that he should for feit nothing of his right to command, in time of action. On these terms he received the appointment, on the 22d of March, 1778, and entered immediately oh the duties of the office. In this station he fully answered the expectations formed of his abilities; and enabled the American army to move with ad ditional celerity and vigor. . . During his administration of the quarter-master department, he took,' on two occasions, a high and distinguished part in the field; the first in the battle of Monmputh; the Second in a very ' brilliant expedition against, the enemy in Rhode Island, under •the cemmand pf general Sullivan. At the battle pf Mpnmputh, the commander-in-chief, disgusted with the, behavieur pf gene? ral Lee, deposed him on the field of battle, and appointed gene ral Greene to< command the right wing? where he greatly con tributed to retrieve the errors of his'predecessor, and to, the sub- sequent%vents of the day, , , * His return to his native state was hailed by the inhabitants, with general and lively demonstrations pf jpy, Even the lead ing members pf the society of Friends, who had reluctantly ex cluded him from their communion, often visited him at his quar- 13 94 NATHANIEL GREENE. >v de ters, and expressed their sincere satisfactien at the elevation he had attained in ihe confidence of his country. One of these plain gentlemen being asked, in jest, by a young officer, how he, as an advocate of peace, could reconcile it to his conscience to keep so much company with general Greene, whose profes. sion was war?- — promptly replied, "Friend, it is not a suit of uni form that can either make or spoil a man. True, I do not ap prove of this many-colored apparel, (the officers' dress,) but whatever may be the form or color of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still retains the same sound head and virtuous heart that gained him the love and esteem of our society." During the year 1779, general Greene was occupied exclu sively in the extensive concerns of the quarter-master depart ment. About this time general Greene was called to the performance of a duty, the most trying and painful he had ever encountered. We allude to the melancholy affair of major Andre, adjutant- general to the British army, who was captured in disguise with in the American lines. Washington detailed a court for his trial, composed 6f fourteen general officers, Lafayette and Steu ben being two of the number, and appointed general Greene to preside* When summoned to his trial, Andre frankly disclcsed without interrogatory, what bore heaviest on his own life, but inviolably concealed whatever might endanger the safety of others. His confessions were conclusive, and no witness was examined against him. The court were unanimous, that he had been ta ken as a spy, and must suffer death. Of this sentence he did not complain, but wished that he might be permitted to close a life of honor by a professional death, and not be compelled like a common felon, to expire on a gibbet. To effect this, he made, in a letter to general Washington, one of the most powerful and pathetic appeals that ever fell from the pen ofa mortal. Staggered in his resolution, the commander-in-chief referred the subject, accompanied by the letter, to his general^officers, who, with one exception, became unanimous in their desire that Andre should be shot. That exception was found in general Greene, the president ol the cpurt. "Andre," said he, "is either a spy pr an innocent ^ NATHANIEL GREENE. 95 man. If the latter, to execute him, in any wray, will be murder; if the former, the mode of his death is prescribed by law, and you have na right to alter it. - Nor is this all. At the present alarming crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn and imp rcssive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short of the execution ofthe prisoner, as a common spy; a character of which his own confession has clearly convicted him. Beware how yeu suffer your feelings to triumph pver your judgment. Be sides, if you shoot the prisoner, instead of hanging him, you will excite suspicion, which you will be unable to allay. Notwith standing all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public compassion, and the belief will become general, that, in the case of major Andre, there were exculpatory circumstances, enti tling him to lenity, beyond what he received — perhaps, entitling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, or set him free." This reasoning beiftg considered conclusive, the prisoner suf fered as a common spy. We have now advanced to that period of the revolutionary war, in which the situation of Greene is about to experience an entire change. No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject to the immediate orders of a superior, we are to behpld him, in future, removed to a distance, and virtually invested with the supreme command of a large section of the United States. Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the southern army, re solved that the conduct of general Gates be submitted to the examination of a court of inquiry, tmd the commander-in-chief directed to appoint an officer to succeed him. In compliance with the latter part of the resolution, general Washington, with' out hesitation, offered the appointment to general Greene. In a letter to Congress, recommending the general support of that body, he made the most honprable mention of .him, as "an offi cer in whose anilities, fortitude and integrity ,-from a long and intimate experience of thorn, he had the most entire confidence." Writing to Mr. Mathews, a member from Charleston, he says, "You have your wish, in . the officer appointed to the southern command. I think 1 am giving you a general; but what can a general do without arms, without' clothing, without stores, with out provisions?" General Greene arrived at Charlotte, the head-quarters of 96 NATHANIEL GREENE; general Gates, Dec. 2d, 1780, and in entering on the duties of his command, he found himself in a situation that was fearfully em barrassing. His army, censisting mostly of militia, amounted to less than two thousand men* and he found on hand but three days' provision, ahd a very defective supply of ammunition. In front was an enemy, proud in victory, and too strong to be en countered. With »uch means, «and under such circumstances, to recover two states, already conquered, and protect a third, constituted a tasfc that was almost hopeless. It was npt merely to meet an enemy in the field, tp command skilfully, and 'fight bravely, either in proffered or accepted bat tle. These operations depend on mere professional qualifica tions, that can be readily acquired by moderate capacities. But to raise and provide for an army in a dispirited and devasta- ted country, creating resources where they do not exist, to ope rate with an incompetent force on an extended and broken line of frontier; to hold in check, in many points, and to avoid com ing into contact in any, with an enemy superior in numbers and discipline; — to conduct a scheme of warfare like this, and such, precisely, was that which tested the abilities of general Greene^ requires a genius of the highest order, combined with indefati gable industry and skill. Preparatory to the commencement ofthe campaign, Greene's first care was to prepare for his troops, subsistence and ammuni tion; and in effecting this, he derived great aid from his personal experience in the business of the commissary and quarter-mas ter's departments. This qualification for such a diversity of du ties, presented him to his troops in the two-fold relation of their supporter and commander. Much of the moral strength of an army consists in a confidence in its leader^ an attachment to his person, and a spirit of subordhiation, founded on principle. To such an extent was this true, that even the common soldiery, sensible of the superintendence of a superior intellect, predic ted confidently a change of fortune. Their defeat at Camden was soon forgotten by them, in their anticipations of future vic tory. They fancied themselves ready once more to take the field, and felt a solicitude to regain their lost reputation, and signalize their prowess in presence of their new and beloved commander. NATHANIEL GREENE. 97 But, notwithstanding the spirit and confidence of his troops, Greene found himself unable to meet the enemy in the field. With Washington in his eye, and his own genius to devise his measures, he resolved on cautious movements and protracted war. Yet, to sustain the spirit ofthe country, it was necessary that he should not altogether shun his enemy; but watching and confron ting his scouts and foraging parties, fight, cripple, and beat him in detail: and in all his movements,' it was necessary for him to maintain a communication with Virginia, from which he was to receive supplies of provisions, munitions and men. General Greene's first movement from the village of Charlotte, was productive of the happiest effect. In the menth pf Decem ber he marched, with his main army, to the Cheraw Hills, about seventy miles to the right of lord Cornwallis, despatching, at the same time, general Morgan, with four hundred conti nentals under colonel Howard, colonel Washington's corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting in 'all to six hundred, to take a position on the British left, distant from them about fifty miles. This judicious dispositfon, which formed a rallying point for the friends of independence, both in the east and west, and facil itated the procurement of provisions for the troops, excited his lordship's apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-Six and Augus ta, British posts, Which he considered as menaced by the move ments of Morgan, and gave rise to a train of movements which terminated in the celebrated battle of the Cowpens. Cornwallis, immediately on learning the movements of Greene, despatched col. Tarlton with a strong detachment, amounting, in horse and foot, to near a.thousand, for the protection of Nine ty-Six, with orders to bring general Morgan, if possible, to bat tle. ' Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall back ra pidly. But* tbis was not long continued. Glorying in action, and relying with great confidence in the spirit and firmness of his regular troops, Morgan halted at the Cowpens, and prepared to give his adversary battle. The opportunity Was eagerly seized by Tarlton. Aif engagement was the immediate consequence, and a complete victory was obtained by the Americans.* Up side Biog. of Gen. Morgan. 98 NATHANIEL GREENE. wards of five hundred pf the British laid dewn their arms, and were made prispners, and a very considerable number were kill ed. Eight hundred stands cf arms, two field pieces, and thirty- five baggage wagcns fell to the victors, who had only twelve killed and sixty wounded. , The victory ofthe Cowpens, although achieved under the im mediate command of Morgan, was the first stroke of general Greene's pplicy, in the south, and augured faveurably of his fu ture career. It led to one of the most arduous, ably-conducted, and memorable operations, that occurred in the course ofthe re volutionary war — the retreat of Greene, -and the pursuit of Corn wallis, during the inclemencies of winter, a distance of '230 miles. , Galled in his pride, and crippled iuhis schemes, by the over throw of Tarlton, lord Cornwallis resolved, by a series pf prompt and vigorous measures, to avenge the injury and, retrieve the foss which the royal arms had sustained at the Cowpens. His medi tated operations, for this purpose, were,' to advance rapidly on Morgan, retake his prispners, and destroy his force; to maintain an intermediate position, and prevent his union with gefieral Greene; or, in case of the junction ofthe two armies, to Cut off. their retreat towards Virginia, and force them to action. But general Greene, no less vigilant and provident than .him self, informed, by express, ofthe defeat of Tarlton, instantly per ceived "the object of his lordship, and ordering his troops to pro ceed -under general Huger, to Salisbury, where he meditated a junction with Morgan's detachment, he himself, escorted by a few dragoons, set out for the head-quarters of that officer, and joined him shortly after. Cornwallis,hiaving committed to the flames his heavy baggage, and reduced his army tp the condition of light trppps, dashed to wards Morgan. And here commenced the retreat of general Greene, in the course of which he displayed such resources,* and gained, in the end, such lasting renown. -Sensible of the im mense prize for which he was contending, he tasked his genius to the uttermost. On the issue ofthe struggle was staked, not merely the lives of a few brave men; not alone the existence of the whole army ; but the fate of the south and the integrity of the Union. But his genius was equal to the crisis. By the most masterly movements, Greene effected a junction of the two divi sions of his little army. NATHANIEL GREENE. 99 To his great mortification,, lord Cornwallis how perceived, that in two of his objects, the destruction of Morgan's detach ment, and theprevention of its union with the main division, he Was completely frustrated by the; activity of Greene. But to cut off the retreat of the Americans into Virginia, after their union, and to compel them to action, was still, perhajps, practicable, and to the achievement. of this, he now directed his undivided energies. The genius of Greene,.however, did not desert him on this try ing occasion. Self-collected, and adapting his conduct to the na ture ofthe crisis, his firmness grew with the increase of danger; , and the measure of his greatness was the extent of the difficulties he was called to encounter. — Notwithstanding the vigilance and activity of his enemy, he brought his men in safety into Virginia; and io crown the whole, no loss was sustained by him, either iri men, munitipns, artillery, pr any thing that enters into the equip ment of an army. . ; Frustrated thus, in alihis purposes, lord Cornwallis, although the pursuing party,, must be acknowledged to have been fairly vanquished. Victery is the successful issue ofa Struggle for su periority. Military leaders contend for different objects ; to van quish iheir enemies, in open conflict; to, attack and overthrow them, by stratagem and surprise; tor exhaust their resources,by delay of action; or to elude them in retreat, until strengthened by reinforcements, they may be able to turn and meet them in the field. Of this last description, was the victory of Greene, in his memorable retreat. "In Virginia, general Greene received some reinforcements, and had the promise pf more; on which he returned again into Nprth Carolina, where, on their arrival, he hoped to be able to act on the offensive. He encamped in the vicinity of lord Corn wallis' army. . By a variety pf the best concerted manoeuvres, he so judiciously supported the arrangement ef his troops,,sDy the se cresy and promptitude of his motions, that, during three weeks, while the enemy remained near him, he prevented them from ta king any advantage of their superiority; and even cut off all op portunity of their receiving succors from the royalists. About the beginning of March, he effected a junction with a continentakregiment, and two considerable bodies of Virginia and Carolina militia. He then determined pn attacking the British 100 NATHANIEL GREENE. J cemmander, witheut loss pf time, "being persuaded," as he » Npt doubling that lord Cornwallis would follow him, he re treated slowly, and in good order, from the field of battle, until attaining, at the distance ofa few miles, an advantageous posi tion, he again drew up His forces, determined to renew the con test pn the arrival of his enemy.* But his lordship was in no con dition to pursue. Having, by past experience, not to be forgot ten, learnt that his adversary was an Ulysses in wisdom, he now, perceived that he was an Ajax in strength. Alike expert in eve^ ry mode ef warfare, and net -to be vanquished, either by strata gem er force, he. found him top formidable to bes again ap proached- ^¦Influenced by these sentiments, lord Cornwallis, instead of pur suing his foe, or even maintaining his ground,' commeiced his re treat, leaving, behind him about seventy of his wounded, whom he recommended, in a letter written by himself, to the humanity and attention ofthe American chief. Had general Greene been in a situation to pursue his lordship, as soon as he commenced his retreat, the destruction of that offi- , cer and his army would have been inevitable. Some spot on the plains of Carolina would have witnessed the surrender1 that was *Am. Biographical Dictionary. 14 ft)2 Nathaniel greene. r^erved for Virginia; and the hero pfthe sputh wpuldhave won' thelaurelswhich, shcrtly afterwards,' decorated the brew pfthe here of the nation. But Greene's military stores were so far ex pended that he could not pursue, until he received a supply; and the delay, thus occasioned, gave time to the British commander to effect his escape. • > > . , '¦¦¦¦ Having received his supplies, Greene immediately pursued the enemy; but the advanced, position of lord Cornwallis, and the impracticable condition of the roads, frustrated every exer? tion that general Greene could make to compel the enemy to a second engagement.— Convinced cfthis, he halted to indulge his : , troops in that refreshment and reppse which they sc much*. "needed. .-' Were we to indicate the period in the life of general Greene most strongly marked by the operations, and irradiated by the genius of a great commander, we weuld without hesitation, Se lect that which extends frpm the eemmencement cf his retreat .' before Cornwallis, to the. termination of his pursuit of him at this time. ""Perhaps a brighter era does not adom the military ca reer of any leader.*" It Was in the course of it that he turned the' current of adverse fortune cpnsequent en the defeat pf Gates, which he afterwards directed with sUch certain aim and irresisti ble force, as to keep the enemy from his numerous strong holds •in the southern department, and contributed so pre-eminently to "the speedyend felicitous issue of the war. Having abandoned the pursuit ofthe British army, the gener al again found himself encircled with difficulties., Of the south- ' era department of the union, over which Greene's command ex tended, the enemy was in force in three large and important sec tions. Georgia and South Carolina were entirely in their pos-* session; lord Cornwallis had taken post inthe maritime'district of North Carolina, and part of Virginia was occupied by a pow erful detachment of British troops, under the command of gener> .al Philips. At a, loss to determine in which of these points he should act in person, he consulted his officers, and found them greatly divided in opinion. He, howeyer, resolved, in accor dance to the views of colonel Lee, that, leaving his Jordship, whoseobject evidently was the invasion of Virginia, to be met by the energies of that state, with such assistance as might arrive NATHANIEL GREENE. 103 from the north, he should penetrate Sputh Carolina, his army di vided into twp cclumns, attack and beat the enemy at their; dif ferent pests, Wifhput permitting them tp ccncentrate their forces, and thus recover that rich and. important member pf the union.. An pfficer whe had distinguished himself in the late actien, not satisfied With the proposed plan, of operations^ asked general Greene by way of remonstrance,-^"What will you do, sir, in case ford Cornwallis throws himself in your rear, and -cuts, off your communicatioh with Virginia?" — "1 will punish his temer ity," replied the general, with greaft pleasantness, "by ordering you io charge him as you did at the battje of Guilford., But nev- e*fear, sir; his lordship has too, much good sense ever again to F risque his safety so far from the sea -board. He has just escaped ruin, and he knows. it,,and I am greatly mistaken in his character as an officer, if he has not the capacity, to profit by experience. On the seventhof April, general.Greene broke up his encamp ment, and with the main column of his army, moving to the south, took position on Hobkirk'? Hill,, in front of Camden, thfe head: quarters of lord' Rawdon, now the eOmmander-in-chief of the British forces in the south,. "The -strength of the British position, which was covered pn the south and east side, by a river and creek ; and to the westward and northward, hy six redoubts;, rendered it impracticable to carry it by storm,, with the small army Greene had} consisting of about seven hundred continentals, the militia having gone home. He, therefore, encamped at about a mile from the town, in prder to prevent supplies from being brought ih and to 'take advan tages ef such favorable circumstances as might occur. Lord Rawdpn's situation was extremely delicate. Ccfonel Watspn, whom,he had some time before detached,, for the, pro tection of the eastern frontiers, and to whom he had, pn intelli gence cf general Greene's .intentions, sent erders to return to Camden, was sp effectually watched by general Maricn, that it was impossible for him to obey. -His, lordship's supplies were, moreover, very precarious; ancl should general Greene's re-inforements arrive, he might.be so closely invested, as to be at length obliged to surrender. In this dilemma , the best expedient that suggested itself, was a bold attack; for which purpose, he armed^every person with him capable of carrying a musket, not 1-04 NATHANIEL GREENE. excepting his musicians and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of April, and attacked general Greene in his camp. The defence was obsitnate; and for some part of the engagement the advantage appeared to be in favor of America. Lieutenant- colonel Washington, whp commanded the cavalry, had- at one time not less than two hundred British prisoners.* However, by the misconduct of pne ofthe American regiments, victory was snatched from general Greene, who was compelled to retreat. He lost in the action about two hundred killed, wounded, and prispners. Rawdon lost about two hundred and fifty-eight. There was a great similarity between the consequences of the affair at Guilford, and those of this action. In the former, lofdx Cornwallis was successful; but was afterwards obliged, to retreat two hundred miles from the scene of action, and for a time aban doned the grand project of penetrating to the northward. In the latter, lord Rawdon had the honor of the field; but was short ly after reduced to the 'necessity of abandoning his post, and leaving behind him a number'of sick and wounded.' The evacuation of Camden, with the vigilance of general Greene, and the several officers he employed, gave a new cpm- plexioh to affairs in South Carolina^ where the British ascendan-. ey decUned more rapidly than it had been established.. The nu merous forts, garrisoned by the enemy, fell, one after the ether, into the hands pfthe Americans. Orangeburg, Motte, Watson, Georgetown, Grandy, and .pthers, Fprt Ninety-Six excepted, were surrendered ; and a very tcnsiderable number of prisoners of war, with military Stores and artillery, were found in them* Onthe 22d May, general Greene sat dpwn before Ninety-Six, with the main part pf his little army. The siege was carried on _ for a considerable time with great spirit; and the place was de fended with equal bravery. At length, the works were so far re duced, that a surrender must have been made in a few days, when a re-inforCement of three regiments, from Europe, arrived at Charleston^ which enabled lord Rawdon to proceed to relieve this important post. The superiority of the enemy's force redut eed general Greene to- the alternative of abandoning the siege altogether, or, previous to their arrival, of attempting the fort by storm. ' The latter was more agreeable to his enterprising spirit; and an attack was made, on the morning ofthe 19th of June. NATHANIEL GREENE. 105 He was repulsed with the logs of one hundred and fifty men. He raised the seige and retreated oyer the Saluda. Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs about this period, says-, "truly distressing was the. situation ofthe American army; when in the grasp of victory, to.be obliged to expose themselves to a hazardous assault, and afterwards to abandon a siege. When they were nearly masters of the whole country, to be compelled to retreat to its extremity; and after subduing the greatest part of the force sent.against them, tq be under the ne- cessity-of encountering still greater re-inforcemerits, when their remote situation precluded them from the hope of receiving a sin- . gle .recruit. In this glopmy- situation, there were not wanting "persons who advised general Greene to leave the state, and re-. tire with his remaining forces to Virginia. To arguments and suggestions of this kind he.npbly-replied, "I will recever the coun try, or die in the attempt.''- This distinguished Officer, whose genius was most vigorous in those extremities, whenfeeble minds abandon themselves to despair, adopted the only resource now left him, of avoiding an engagement,- Until the British force should be divided."* Greene, having, without foss, made good- his passage over the rivers in front, lord Rawdpty' perceiving the futility ef any further attempt to overtakehim, abandoned the. pursuit, and retreating -to Ninety-Six, prepared for its evacuation. Thus did the policy of Greene, which is mpral strength, compel the surrender ef that fortress, although from a want ef physical strength, he .failed to carry it by tbe sword. _¦ ¦ '. ) ¦:,. •No sooner had lord Rawdoneommenced his retrograde move ment towards Ninety-Six than general Greene changed his front, . and moved in the same direction. On 4he breaking up of the garrifon of Ninety-Six, and .the return of -lord Rawdon towards. Charleston, which immediately ensued, the British army moved in twpcplumns, at a ccnsiderable distance from- each ctjber. It was -then that general Greene became,. iri reality, the pursuing «party, exceedingly, anxieus tp bring the enemy to battle. But this he was unable to accomplish until September. "September the 9th, general Greene havirig assembled abpj^ *Am. Biog.Dictionary. , 106 NATHANIEL GREENE. twbthpusand, men, proceeded to attack the British, who, under the command of colonel Stewart, were posted at Eutaw Springs. The American force was drawn up in two lines: the first com posed of Carolina militia, was epm'manded by generals Marion and Pickens, and colonel de Malmedy. The second, which con sisted of continental troops, from North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland, was commanded by general Sumpter, lieutenant colohql Campbell, and cplpnel Williams; lieutenant-colonel Lee, with his legion, covered the right flank; and lieutenant-colonel Henderson, with the state troops, covered the left. A corps de reserve was formed ofthe cavalry, under, lieutenant-cofonel Washington^ and the Delaware troops under captain Kirkwood. As the Americans came forward to the attack, they fell in with some advanced parties ofthe enemy, at about two or three miles; a-head of the main body. These being closely pursued, were driven backhand the action sopn became' general. The militia were at length forced to give way1, but- were bravely supported by the second line, In >the hottest part ofthe engagement, gen eral Greene ordered the- Maryland and Virginia continentals to charge with trailed arms. This decided the fate of the day. "Nothing," says, Dr. Ramsay, "could surpass the intrepidity of both officers and men 'on this.occasion. They rushed on in good order through a, heavy cannonade and a shower of musquefry, with such unshaken resolution, that they boredown. all before them." The British were broken, closely pursued, and upwards offive hundred ef them taken prispners. .They, hewever, made a fresh stand in a favorable pesitiori, in impenetrable shrubs and a picquetted garden. Lieutenant-colonel Washington, after havingmade. every effort to disfodge them, was woundedtand ta ken prisoner. Four six pounders were brought forward to play upon them, ^ut they fell into their hands; and the endeavoj^to bring them from their: station, being found impracticable, the A- mericags retired, leaving a very streng-picquet on the field.of battle. Their loss was about five hundred; that of the .British upwards of eleven hundred. General Greene was honored by congress with a British stan dard, and a gold medal, emblematical ofthe engagement, "for his wise, decisive, and magnanimous coriduct in the action at Eutaw Springs, in which, with a force inferior in number tothaf ofthe enemy, he obtained a most signal victory." NATHANIEL GREENE. 107 Inthe evening of the succeeding day colonel Stewart aban doned his prist, and retreated towards Charleston, leaving behind upwards ef seventy of his wounded and a thousand stand pf arms. He was pursued a considerable distance, but in; vain. , In Dr.. Caldwell's- memoirs ofthe life of general Greene, we have the following interesting story as connected with the severe conflict at Eutaw Springs ; "Two-young oflicers, bearing the same rank, met in perspnal combat. The American, perceiving that the Briton had a de cided superiority in the use ef the s,abre, and being himself of great activity and personal strength, almost gigantic, closed with his adversary and made him his prisoner. •^Gentlemanly, generous and high minded, this event added tp a personal resemblance which they were ebservedtobear te each other, produced between these two youthful warriors, an intimacy,- which increased," in a : short time to a mutual attach ment. "Not long, after the action, the American officer returning home on furlough, tp settle seme private business, obtained per mission for his- friend to accompany him,' . /'Travelling without attendants or guard ; they were both' armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay through a settlement highly disaffected fo fhe American cause.- "When.in the midst of this, having, in consequence of a show er of rain, thrown around them their1 cloaks, which cpncealed their uniforms, ..they were suddenly encountered by a detach ment of tories. "The young American^ determined to die rather, than become a prisoner, especially to men whom he held, in abhorrence for disloyalty to their country, and the: generous, Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he had been distinguished and treated so kindly, they both together, with 'great spirit and self possession, charged the rpyajists, having first rnade signals in their rear,, as if directing others- to follpw them; and thus, without injury pn either side, had the address and gepd fortune to put the party to flight. "Arriving in safety at their place pf destinatien, what was thei&. surprise and augftiented satisfactien, on finding, from some ques tions proposed by -the American officer's father, that they, were first cousins! * - "\ ,- .' - ' '.-¦!" ¦ ¦ - - 108 NATHANIEL GREENE. "With' increasing dehght, the young Briton, passed several ^eeks in the family of his kinsman, where the writer of this nar rative saw him daily, and often listened with the rapture ofa child, to the checkered story of his military adventures. "To heighten the occurrence and render it more romantic, the American officer had a sister, beautiful ahd accomplished, whose heart sopn felt for the gallant stranger, more than the affection duetoa.ccusin. The' attachment was mutual, "But here the ad ventore assumes a tragical cast. The yputh- ful foreigner, heirig exchanged, .was sutomdned te return to his regiment. The message was fatal to his p'eace. But military henpr demanded. the sacrifice; and the lady, generous and high-, minded-as himself, would net be ihstrumenialin dimming his lau rels.1 The parting scene was a'high-wreught picture of tender ness, and sorrow. , On taking leave, the, part^es^mutually bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain<6ingle a certain nun* ber of years, in the hope that an arrangenaentconterriplated might again hring them together. A few. weeks afterwards, ' the lady expired under an attack of small pox. The fate of the officer we never learnt."* , Judge Johnson in his life of general Greene, says- — "At ihe battle of the Eutaw Springs, Greene says. 'that hundreds of my men were naked as they were born.' Posterity will scarcely believe that the bare loins of many brave men who carried death into the enemy's ranks^at, the Eutaw, were galled by their car- touch boxes, while a folded rag or a tuftof moss protected.the shoulders from sustaining the same injury from/the musket Men pf other times will enquire, by .what magic was the army kept together? ; By what supernatural power was it made to fight?" .'- ... ;';: •• General Greene inhis letters' to the secretary at war, says— "Wehaveihree hundred men Without arms, and more, than one thousand so naked that they can be put on duty only in caSe ofa desperate nature." Again he says — "Our difficulties are so nu merous,' arid our wants so pressing, that. I have nofa moment's relief from, the most painful anxieties; I have more embarrass ments than it is proper to disclose to the world. * Let it suffice te ?American Biographical Dictionary. ' . NATHANIEL GREENE. 109 say that this part of the United States has had a narrow escape. I have been seven months in the field without taking off my clothes. The battle of the Eutaw Springs being terminated, general Greene ordered the light troops under Lee and Marion, to march circuitcusly, and gain a position in the British rear. But the British leader was so prompt in his measures, and so precipi tate in his movements, that leaving his sick and wounded behind him, he made good his retreat. The only injury he received in his flight, was from Lee and Marion, who cut off part of his rear guard, galled him in his flanks, killed several, and made a number of prisoners. Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw, Like that of every other fought by general Greene, it manifested in him judgment and sagacity of the highest order.. Although he was repeatedly forced from the field, it may be truly said of that officer, that he never lost an action — the consequences, at least, being always in his favor. In no instance did he fail to reduce his enemy to a condition, relatively much wcrse than that in which he met him; his own condition of course being relatively improved. The battle ofthe Eutaw Springs, was the last essay in arms in which it was the fortune of general Greene to command, and was succeeded by the abandonment of the whole of South Caro lina by the enemy, except Charleston. During the relaxation that followed, a dangerous plot was formed, by some mutinous persons of the army, to deliver up their brave general to the British. The plot was discovered and defeated; the ring-leader apprehended, tried and shot, and twelve of the mest guilty of his associates deserted to the enemy. Te the henpr pf the American character, np native pfthe Cpuntry was knewn to be cpneerned in this censpiracy. Fpreigners alone were its pro jectors and abettors. The surrender of lord Cornwallis, whpse enterprising spirit had been by the British ministry, expected te repair the fosses and wipe away the disgrace which had been incurred through the inactivity and indolence of other generals, having convinced them of the impracticability of subjugating America, they dis continued offensive operations in every quarter. The. happy period at length arrived, when by the virtue and bravery pf her 15 110 NATHANIEL GREENE.^ sons, aided by the beunty of heaven, America compelled her invaders, to 4cknowledge her independence. Then her armies quitted the tented field and retired to. cultivate the arts of peace and happiness. — General Greene immediately withdrew from the south, and returned to the bosom of his native state. The reception he there experienced, was cordial and joyousj The authorities welcomed him home with congratulatory ad dresses, and the chief men ofthe place waited upon him at his dwelling, eager to testify their gratitude for his services, their admiration of his talents and virtues, and the pride with which they recognized him as a native of Rhode Island. On the close of the war, the three southern states that had been the most essentially benefitted by his wisdom and valor, manifested, at once, their sense of justice and their gratitude to general Greene, by liberal donations. South Carolina present- ted him with an estate, valued at ten thousand pounds sterling; Georgia, with an estate, a few miles from the city of Savannah, worth five thousand pounds; and North Carolina, with twenty- five thousand acres of land in the state of Tennessee. Having spent about two years in his native state in the ad justment of .his private affairs, he sailed for Georgia, in October, 1795, and settled with his family, on his estate near Savannah. Engaging here in agricultural pursuits, he employed himself closely in arrangements for planting, exhibiting the fairest pro mise te become as eminent in the practice of the peaceful vir tues, as he had already shown himself in the occupations of war. But it was the will of heaven, that in this new sphere of action, his course should be limited. The short per'.od of seven months was destined to witness its commencement and its close. Walking over his grounds, as was his custom, without his hat, on the afternoon of the 15th of June, 1786, the day being intense ly hot, he was suddenly attacked with such a vertige and pros tration pf strength, as to be unable to return to his house without assistance. The affection was what is denominated a "stroke of the sun." It was succeeded by fever, accompanied with stupor, delirium, and disordered stomach. All efforts to subdue it pro ving fruitless, it terminated fatally on the 19th ofthe month. Intelligence ofthe event being conveyed to Savannah, but one feeling pervaded the place. Sorrow was universal; and the NATHANIEL GREENE. Ill whele town instinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. AU business was suspended, the dwelling houses, stores and shops, were closed, and the shipping in the harbor half-masted their colors. On the following day the body of the deceased being con veyed to the town, at the request of the inhabitants, was interred in a private cemetery, with military honors, the magistrates of the place and other public officers, the society of the Cincinnati, and the citizens generally joining in the procession.* On the 12th of August, of the year in which the general died, the congress of the United States unanimously resolved — "That a monument be erected to the memory ofthe honorable Nathan iel Greene, at the seat of the federal government, with the fol lowing inscription: SACRED to the memory of the HON. NATHANIEL GREENE, who departed this life, the 19th of June, mdcclxxxvi. late Majcr-General in the service of the U. S. and Commander of the Army in the southern department. The United States, in Congress as- ' sembled, in honor of his PATRIOTISM, VALOR, and ABILITY, have erected this MONUMENT. To the disgrace of the nation, no monument has been. erected; nor, for the want of a head-stone, can any one at present desig nate the spot, where the relics of the hero of the south lie nV terred! ! In estimating the military character pf general Greene, facts authorize the inference, that he possessed a genius adapted by ?General Greene left behind him a wife and five children. 112 NATHANIEL GREENE. nature to military command. After resorting to arms, his at tainment to rank was much more rapid than that of any other officer pur ccuntry has produced; perhaps themost rapid that history records. These offices, so high iri responsibility and honor, were conferred on him, not as matters of personal favor, or family influence, nor yet through the instrumentality of po litical intrigue. They were rewards of pre-eminent merit, and tokens of recognized fitness for the highest functions of military service. It is said, that, on his very first appearance in the camp at Cambridge, from the ardor of his zeal, unremitted activity, and strict attention to every duty, he was pronounced, by Soldiers of distinction,* a man of real military genius. "His knowledge," (said general Knox to a distinguished citi zen of South Carolina,) is intuitive. He came to us the rawest and most untutored being I Oyer met with; but in less than twelve months, he was equal in military knowledge to any general offi cer in the army, and very superior to most of them." Even the enemy he conquered, did homage to his pre-eminent talents for war. Tarleton,- who had strong ground to know him, is report ed to have pronounced him, on a public occasion,, the most able and accomplished commander that America had produced. When acting Under the order of others, he never failed to discharge to their satisfaction, the duties entrusted to him, how ever arduous. But it is the southern department of the union that constitutes- the theatre of his achievements and fame. It was there, where- his views were unshackled, and his genius free, that by performing the part of a great captain, he erected for himself a monument of reputation, durable as history, lofty as victory and conquest could render it, and brightened by all that glory could bestow. • In compliment to his brilliant successes, the chivalric de la Luzerne, the minister of'France, who, as a knight of Malta, ifiust be considered as a competent judge of military merit, thus sp%aks of him:— "Other generals subdue their enemies by the means frith which their country or their sovereign furnished them, but Greene appears to subdue his enemies by his own *Colonel Pickering and others. HORATIO GATES. 113 means. He commenced his campaign, without either an army, provisions, or military stores. He has asked for nothing since ; and yet, scarcely a post arrives from the south," that does not bring intelligence of spme new advantage gained ever his foe. He conquers by magic. History furnishes no parallel to this." HORATIO GATES, Major.-General in the American Army. General Gates was a native of England, and was born in the. year 1728. He was educated to the military -profession, and entered the British army at an early age, in the capacity of lieutenant^ where he laid the foundation of his future military excellence. Without purchase he obtained the rank of major. He was aid to general Monckton at the capture of Martinico, and after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle he was among fhe first " troops which landed at Halifax under general Cornwallis. He was an officer in the army which accompanied the unfortunate Braddock, in the expedition against Fort du Quesne, ih the year 1755, and was shot through the body. When peace was concluded, he purchased an estate in Vir ginia, where he resided Until the. commencement of the Ameri can war, in 1775. Having evinced his zeal and attachment to the violated rights of his adopted country, and sustaining a high military reputation, he was appointed by congress adjutant-ge neral, with the rank of brigadier, and he accompanied general Washington to the American camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775, where he was empfoyed for spme time- time ina subordinate, but highly useful capacity. In June, 1776, Gates was appointed te the command of the army of Canada, and on reaching Ticonderoga, he still claimed the command of iif though it was no longer in Canada, and was inthe department of general Schuyler, a senior officer. Who had rendered eminent services in that command. On representa tion to congress, it was declared not to be their intention to 114 HORATIO GATES. place Gates over Schuyler, and it was recommended to these officers to endeavor to ' co-operate harmoniously. . General Schuyler, was however, shortly after directed by congress to resume the command of the northern department, and general Gates withdrew himself from it; after whicn he repaired to head quarters, and joined the army under general Washington in Jersey. Owing to the prevalent dissatisfaction with the conduct of ge neral Schuyler in the evacuation of Ticonderoga,* Gates was agaimdirected to take command. He arrived about the 21st of August, and continued the exertions to restore the affairs of the department, which had been so much depressed by the losses consequent oh the evacuation of Ticonderoga. It was fortunate for geiaeral Gates that the retreat from Ticonderoga had been conducted" under other auspices than his, and that he took the command when the indefatigable,", but unrequited labors of Schuyler, and the courage of Stark and his mountaineers , had already ensured the'Ultimate defeat of Bhrgoyne. Burgriyne, afterr crossing the Hudson, advanced along its side, and encamped on the height, about two miles from Gates' camp, which was three miles aboVe Stillwater.- This movement was the subject of much discussion. ' Some charged it on the impe tuosity of .the general, and alleged that it was premature, before he was sure of aid from the royal forces -posted at New-York, but he pleaded the peremptory orders of his superiors; The rapid advance of Burgoyne, ahd especially his passage of the North river, added much to the impracticability of his future retreat, and made the ruin of his army in a great degree unavoid able. The Americans, elated with their successes at Benning ton and Fort Schuyler, thought np more of retreating, but came out to meet the advancing British, arid engaged them with firm ness arid resolution. The attack began a little before mid-day, September 19th, between' the scouting parties of the two armies. The comman ders of both sides supported and re-inforced their respective par ties. "The conflict, though severe, was only partial for an hour and a half; but after a short pause, it became general, and con- * Vide biography of general Schuyler. ¦ HORATU) Ga4bS. 115 tinned for three ho(irs without any intermission. A cOpstant blaze of fire was kept up, andAoth armies seemed determined on, death or victory. The. Americans and British alternately drove, and were driven by each other. The British! artillery fell into our possession at every charge, but we could' neither turn the pieces upon the enemy nos bring them off, so sudden were the alternate advantages. It was a gallant conflict, in which .death, by familiarity,, lost his terrors; and such was the ardor ofthe Americans, that, as general Wilkinson states, the wounded men, after having their wounds dressed, in many in stances returned again into the battle., Men, and particularly officers, dropped every mothentj and on every side. Several of the Americans placed themselves on high trees, and as often as they could distinguish an officer's uniform, topk him pff by deliberately aiming at his person. Few actions have been cha racterized by more obstinacy in attack or defence. The Bri tish repeatedly tried their bayonets, but withcul their usual success in the use pf that weapon. The British lost upwards of five hundred men, including their killed, wounded, and prisoners. The Americans, inclusive of the missing, lost three hundred and nineteen. Thirty-six out of forty-eight British artillerists were killed or wounded. The 62d British regiment, which was five hundred strpng when it left Canada, was reduced to sixty men, and four or five officers. In this engagement, general Gates, assisted by generals Lin coln and Arnold, commanded the American army, and general Burgoyne was at the, head of his army, and generals Phillips, Reidesel, and Frazer, with their respective commands, were actively engaged. This battle was fought by the general concert and zealous co-operation ofthe corps engaged, and was sustained more by individual courage than military discipline. General Arnold, who afterwards traitorously deserted his country, behaved with the most Undaunted courage, leading on the troops, and encour aging them by his personal efforts and daring exposure. The gallant colonel Morgan obtained immortal honor on this day. Lieutenant-cofonel Brooks, with the eighth Massachusetts' regi ment, remained in the field till about eleven o'clock, and was the. last who retired. Major Hull commandeda detachment of 116 HORATIO GATES. three .hundred- men, who fought with sucn signal ardor that more than half of them were killed. The whole, number of Americans engaged in this action was about two thousand five hundred; the remainder of 'the army, from its unfavorable situa tion, took little or no part in the act-ion. ¦• Each army claimed the* victory, and each believed himself to have beaten, with only part of its force* nearly the whole of the enemy. The advantage, however, was decidedly in favor of the Americans. .In every quarter they had been the assail ants, and after an encounter of. several hours they had not lost a single inch of ground. *• General Gates, whose numbers increased daily; remained on his old ground. His right, which extended to the river,had been rendered unassailable, and he used great industry to strengthen his left. Both armies retained their position until the 7th of October; Burgoyne, in the hope of being relieved, by Sir Henry Clinton; and Gates, inthe confidence cf growing stronger every day, and pf rendering the destruction of his enemy more certain. But re ceiving no further intelligence from Sir Henry, the British ge neral determined to. make one more trial of strength with his adversary. The following account of the brilliant affair of the 7th of October, 1777, is given in Thacher's Military Journal:— "I am fortunate enough to pbtain from our officers, a particu lar acccunt pf the glorious event of the 7th instant. The ad vanced parties ofthe two' armies came into contact about three o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, and immediately displayed their hostile attitude. The Americans soon approached the royal army, and each party in defiance awaited the deadly blow." The gallant colonel Morgan, at the head of bis famous rifle corps, and major Dearborn, leading a detachment pf infantry, commenced the action, and rushed courageously on the British grenadiers, commanded by major Ackland; and the furious attack was most firmly resisted. In all parts, of the field the conflict' be came extremely arduous and obstinate; an unconquerable spirit on each side disdaining to yield the palm of victory. Death appeared to have lost his terrors; breaches in. the ranks were no sooner made than supplied by fresh combatants, awaiting a similar fate. At length the Americans pressed forward with ti HPRATIP GATESi 11/ renewed strength and ardor, and compelled the whole British line, commanded by Burgoyne himself, to yield to their deadly fire, and they retreated in disorder. The German troops re mained firmly posted at their lines; these were now boldly as saulted by brigadier-general ^Lincoln and lieutenant-colonel Brooks, at the head of their respective commands, with such in trepidity, that the works were carried, and their brave comman der, lieutenant-colonel Breyman, was slain. The Germans were pursued to theii encampment, which with all the equipage of the brigade, fell into our hands. Colonel Cilley, of general Poor's brigade, having acquitted himself honorably, was seen astride on a brass field-piece, exulting in the capture. Major Hull, of the Massachusetts' line, was among those who so brave ly stormed the enemy's entrenchment, and acted a conspicuous part. General Arnold, in consequence of a serious misunder standing with general Gates, was not vested with any command, by which he was exceedingly chagrined and irritated. He en tered the field, however, and his conduct was marked with in temperate rashness; flourishing his sword, and animating the troops, he struck an officer on the head without cause, and gave him a considerable wound. He exposed himself to every dan ger, and, with a small party of riflemen, rushed into the rear of the enemy, where he received a ball which fractured his leg, and his horse was killed under him. Nightfall put a. stop to our brilliant career, though the victory was most decisive ; and it is with pride and exultation that we recount the triumph of Ame rican bravery. Besides lieutenant-colonel Breyman slain, ge neral Frazer, one of the most valuable officers in the British ser vice, was mortally wounded and survived but a few hours. Fra zer was the soul of the British army, and was just changing the disposition of a part of the troops to repel a strong impression which the Americans had made, and were still making, on the British right, when Morgan called together two or three of his best marksmen, and peinting to Frazer? said, "Do you see that gallant officer? that is 'general Frazer — I respect and honor him; but it is necessary he should die." This was enough. Frazer immediately received his mortal wound, and was carried off the field. Sir Francis Clark, aid-de-camp to general Burgoyne, was brought into our camp with a mortal wound, and major Ackland,. 16 118 Horatio gates. who commanded the British grenadiers, was wounded through both legs, and made prisoner. Several other officers, and about two hundred privates, were prisoners in our hands, with nine pieces of cannon, and a considerable supply of ammunition, which was much wanted for our troops. The loss on our side was supposed not to exceed thirty killed, and one hundred wounded, in obtaining this signal victory." The position of the British army, after the action of the 7th, was so dangerous, that an immediate and total change of posi tion became necessary, and Burgoyne took immediate measures to regain his former camp at Saratoga. There he arrived with little molestation from his adversary. His provisions being now reduced to the supply of a few days, the transports of artillery and baggage towards Canada being rendered impracticable by the judicious measures of his adversary, the British general re solved upon a rapid retreat, merely with what the soldiers could carry. On examination, however, it was found that they were deprived even of this resource, as the passes through which their route lay, were so strongly guarded, that nothing but artillery could clear them. In this desperate situation a parley took place, and on the 17th of October the whole army surrendered to general Gates. The prize obtained consisted of more than five thousand pri soners, forty-two pieces of brass ordnance, seven thousand mus kets, clothing for seven thousand men, with a great quantity of tents, and other military stores. Soon after the ccnventton was signed, the Americans marched into their lines, and were kept there until the reypl army had 'deppsited their arms at the place appointed. The delicacy with which this business was conducted, reflected honor on the American general. Nor did the politeness of Gates end here. Every circumstance was withheld that could constitute a tri umph in tlie American army. The captive general was recei ved by his conqueror with respect and kindness. A number of the principal officers of both armies met at general Gates' quar ters, and for a while seemed to forget, in social and convivial pleasures, that they had been enemies. General Wilkinsen gives thefeltowing accpunt of the meeting between general Burgoyne and general Gates: HORATIO GATES. 119 "General Gates, advised of Burgoyne's approach, met him at the head of his camp, Burgoyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates in a plain blue frock. When they had approached nearly within sword's length, they reined up and halted. I then named the gentleman, and general Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, said, 'The fortune pf war, general Gates, has made me your prisoner;' to which the conqueror, returning a courtly salute, promptly replied, 'I shall always be ready to bear testi mony that it has not been through any fault of your excellency.' " The thanks of congress were voted to general Gates and his army; and a medal of gold, in commemoration of this great event, was ordered to be struck, tc be presented tp him by the president, in the name ef the United States. It was npt long after that the wonderful discovery was sup posed to be made, that the illustrious Washington was incom petent to the task of conducting the operations of the American army, and that general Gates, if elevated to the chief command, would speedily meliorate the condition of our affairs. There were those who imputed to general Gates himself a principal agency in the affair, which, however, he promptly disavowed. But certain it is, that a private correspondence was maintained between him and the intriguing general Conway, in which the measures pursued by general Washington are criticised and reprobated; and in one of Conway's letters, he pointedly as cribes our want of success to a weak general and bad counsel lors. General Gates, on finding that general Washington had been apprised of the correspondence, addressed his excellency, requesting that he would disclose the name of his informant; and in violation of the rules of decorum , he addressed the com mander-in-chief on a subject of extreme delicacy, in an open let ter transmitted to the president of congress. General Wash ington, hpwevcr, did net npt hesitate to discfose the names and circumstances which brought the affair tc light. General Gates, then, with inexcusable disingenupusness, attempted to vindicate tHe cenduct of Conway, and to deny that the letter centained the reprehensible expressions in question, but utterly refused to produce the original letter. This subject, however, was so ably and candidly discussed by general Washington, as to cover his adversary with shame and humiliation. It was thought 120 HORATIO GATES. inexcusable in Gates, that he neglected to communicate to the commander-in-chief an account of so. important an event as the capture of the British army at Saratoga, but left his excellency to obtain the information by common report. Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, relates the following ahecdote: "Mr. T , an ensign in our regiment, has, for some time, discovered symptoms of mental derangement. Yesterday he intruded himself at general Gates' head quarters, and after some amusing conversation, he put himself in the attitude of de votion, and prayed that God would pardon general Gates for endeavoring to supercede that godlike man, Washington. The general appeared te be much disturbed, and directed Mr. Pierce, his aid-de-camp, to take him away." On the 13th of < June, 1780, general Gates was appointed to the chief command of the southern army. Rich in fame from the fields of Saiatoga,.he hastened to execute the high and im- pprtant trust; and the arrival pf an officer so exalted in reputa tion, had an immediate and happy effect on the spirits of the sol diery and the hopes of the people. It was anticipated that he who had humbled Great Britain on the heights of the Hudson, and liberated New-York from a formidable invasion, would prove no less successful in the south, and become the deliverer of Carolina and Georgia from lawless rapine and military rule.* But anticipations were vain, and the best founded hopes were blighted! In the first and only encounter which he had with lord Cornwallis, at Camden, August 15th, he suffered a total defeat, arid was obliged to fly from the enemy for personal safety. Proudly calculating on the weight of his name, and too con fident in his own superiorly, he slighted the council which he ought to have respected, and hurrying impetuously into the field of battle, his tide of popularity ebbed as fast at Camden as if had flowed at Saratoga.* lt would be great injustice, however, to attribute the misfor tune altogether to the commander, under his peculiar circum stances. A large proportion of his force consisted of raw mili tia, who were panic-struck, and fled at the first fire; their rout *When the appointment of general Gates to the chief command of the southern array' was announced, general Lee remarked, that "his northern laurels would s/ton be excliangedjpr southern willows" HPRATIP GATES. 121 was absplute and irretrievable. In vain did Gates attempt to rally them. That their speed might be the greater, they threw away their arms and accoutrements, and dashed into the wepds and swamps for safety. A rout more perfectly wild and disor derly, or marked with greater consternation and dismay, was ne ver witnessed. Honor, manhood, country, home, every recol- lecton sacred to the feelings of the soldier and the soul of the brave, was merged in an ignominious love of life. But from the moment general Gates assumed the command inthe south, his former judgment and fortune seemed to forsake him. He was anxious to come to action immediately, and to terminate the war by a few bold and energetic measures ; and two days after his arrival in camp, he began his march to meet the enemy, without properly estimating his force. The active spirits of the place being roused and encouraged * by the presence of a considerable army, and daily flocking to the standard of their country, general Gates, by a delay of ac tion, had much to gain in point of numbers. To the prospects of the enemy, on the contrary, delay would have been ruinous. To them there was no alternative but immediate battle and vic tory, or immediate retreat. Such, however, was the nature of the country, and the distance and relative position of the two " armies, that to compel the Americans to action was impossible. The imprudence of the American general in hazarding an en gagement at this time, is further manifested by the fact, that in troops on whose firmness he could safely rely, he was greatly inferior to his foe, they amounting to sixteen hundred veteran and highly disciplined regulars, and he having less than a thou-- sand continentals. General Gates having retreated to Salisbury, and thence to Hillsborough, he there succeeded in collecting around him the fragments of an army. Being soon after re-inforced by several small bodies of regulars and militia, he again advanced towards the south, and took post in Charlotte. Here he continued in command until the 5th day of October, fifty days after his defeat at Camden, when congress, passed a resolution requiring the commander-in-chief to order a court of inquiry on his conduct, as commander of the southern army, and to appoint some other officer to that command. The inquiry resulted in his 122 HORATIO GATES, acquittal; and it was the general opinion that he was not treated by Congress with that delicacy, cr indeed gratitude, that was due to an pfficer cf his acknpwledged merit. He, however, received the order of his supercedure and suspension, and re signed^ the command to general Greene with becoming diguity, as is manifested, much to his credit, inthe following order: Head-Quarters, Charlotte, 3d December, 1780. Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. "The honorable major-general Greene, who arrived yesterday afternoon in Charlette, being apppinted by his excellency gene. ral Washington, with the approbation of the honorable congress, to the command of the southern army, '*lall orders will, for the- future, issue from him, and all reports are to be made to him. "General Gates returns his sincere and grateful thanks to the southern army, for their perseverance, fortitude, and patient endurance of all the hardships and sufferings they have under gone while under his command. He anxiously hopes their misfortunes will cease therewith, and that victory, and the glo rious advantages of it, may be the future portion of the souther army." General Greene had always been, and ccntinued tp be, the firm advecate of the reputation of general Gates, particularly if he heard it assailed with asperity; and still believed and as-*' serted, that if there was any mistake in the conduct of Gates, it was in hazarding an action at all against such superior force ; and when informed of his appointment to supercede him, declared his confidence iri his military talents, and his willingness "to serve under him." General Gates was reinstated in his military command inthe main army, in 1782; but the great scenes of war were now pass ed, and he could only participate in the painful scene of a final separation. In the midst of his misfortune, general Gates was called to mourn the afflictive dispensation of Providence, in the death of his only son. Major Garden, in his excellent publication, has recorded the following affecting anecdote, which he received from Dr. William Reed: "Having pecasien to call cn general Gates, relative to the business ef the department under my immediate charge, I found hpratio Oates. 123 him traversing the apartment which he occupied, under the in fluence of high excitement; his agitation was excessive — every feature of his countenance, every gesture betrayed it. Official despatches, informing him that he was superceded, and fhaj; the command of the southern army had been transferred to general Greene, had just been received and perused by him. His coun tenance, however betrayed no expression of irritation or resent ment; it was sensibility alone that caused his emotion. An open letter, which he held in his hand, was often raised to his lips, and kissed with devotion, while the exclamation repeatedly es caped them — 'Great man! Noble, generous procedure!' When the tumult of his mind had subsided, and his thoughts found utte rance, he, with strong expression of feeling, exclaimed, 'I have received this day a communication from the commander-in-chief, which has conveyed more consolation to my bosom, more ineffa ble delight to my heart, than I had believed it possible for it ever to have felt again. With affectionate tenderness he sym pathizes with me in my domestic misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss I have sustained by the recent death of an only son; and then, with peculiar delicacy, lamenting my misfortune in battle, assures me that his confidence in my zeal and capa city is so little impaired, that the command ofthe right wing of the army will be bestowed on me so soon as I can make if con venient to join him.' " After the peace he retired to his farm in Berkley county, Vir ginia, where he remained until the year 1790, when he went to reside in New- York, having first emancipated his slaves, and made a pecuniary provision for such as were not able to provide for themselves. Some of them would not leave him, but contin ued in his family. On his arrival at New- York, the freedom of the city was pre sented to him. In 1800 he accepted a seat in the legislature, but he retained it no longer than he conceived his services might be useful to the cause of lfberty, which he never aban doned. His political opinions did not separate him from many res pectable citizens, whose views differed widely from his own. He had a handsome person, and was gentlemanly in his man ners, remarkably courteeus tc all, and' gave indisputable marks- 124 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. pf a social, amiable, and benevolent disposition. A few weeks beforehis death, he closed a letter to a friend in the following words: — "I am very weak, and have evident signs of an ap proaching dissolution. But I have lived long enough, since 1 have lived to see a mighty people animated with a spirit to be free, and governed by transcendent abilities and honpr." He died without posterity, at his abode near New- York, on the 10th day of April, 1806j aged seventy-eight years. RICHARD MONTGOMERY, Major-General in the American Army.- GenerAl Montgomery, whose premature death under the walls of Quebec, robbed the American army of one of its bright est ornaments, was born in the north of Ireland, in the year 1737. He possessed an excellent genius, which was matured by a fine education. Entering the army of Great Britain, he suc cessfully fought her battles with Wolfe, at Quebec, in 1759, and on the very spot where he was doomed to fall, when fighting against her under the banners of freedom. After his return to England, he quitted his regiment in 1772, though in a fair way to preferment. He had imbibed a strong attachment to America, and view ing it as the rising seat of science and freedom, resolved upon transferring to her his allegiance. After his arrival in this country, he purchased an estate in New- York, about one hun dred miles from the city, and married a daughter of judge Liv ingston. He now considered himself as an American. Connected with one ofthe first families in New- York, happy in the highest enjoyment of domestic felicity, he was led by principle to quit the occupations of rural life ; and animated with an ardent zeal for the cause of human nature, the liberties of mankind,, and the glory of America, 'both his active life, and his heroic death, verified his last expression to his amiable lady — "You shall never frlush for your Montgomery." Richard Montgomery. 125 At the commencement of the struggle with Great Britain, the command of the continental forces in the northern depart. ment, was intrusted to him and general Schuyler, in the fall of 1775. "While the British army was cooped up in Boston, without the power of much annoyance to the surrounding country, the congress conceived the design of sending a force into Canada, for the purpose of putting a stop to the preparations which it was known that general Carleton, the governor of that pro vi nee was Jnaking for aiding his majesty's forces on this side of the lakes. For this purpose, generals Schuyler and Montgomery, with two regiments of New- York militia, and a body of New- England men, amounting in the whole to about two thousand men, were ordeied to move towards Ticonderoga, which had remained in possession ofthe Americans since the expedition of colonels Arnold and Allen. General i Schuyler being detained at Albany, Montgomery proceeded alone to Crown Point, where he received intelligence that several armed vessels, which lay at the fort of St. John's, were preparing to enter the lake Cham plain, for the purpose of impeding the passage of his troops. This determined him, though not more than half of his troops had arrived, to cross over to the Isle aux JVbix, at the entrance ofthe Sorel, and thus blockade the vessels which lay in that. river. He had scarcely succeeded in this design, before he was joined by general Schuyler; and it was determined, after publishing a declaration to the Canadians, setting forth their friendly intentions towards them, to proceed immediately against the fort of St. John's. With this view, they proceeded with their batteaux for a few miles down the Sorel, and landed on a swampy ground, through which, with great difficulty, they marched to within two miles of the fort. Here they were sud denly attacked by a party of Indians, which, after a smart skir mish, they dispersed with a trifling loss, and continued their march; but upon coming within view ofthe fort, and seeing its strength, general Schuyler, whose force did not amount to a thousand men, thought it prudent to return to the Isle aux Noix, without attempting its reduction. The general being then obliged to return to Albany, to settle a treaty with the Indians, left the command solely to Montgomery; and never was there a 17 126 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. general better qualified, for the duties which now devolved Upon him. It was absolutely necessary, before he could go against Montreal, that the fort of St. John's should be reduced. It was well provided and strongly garrisoned. "The supply of ammunition with which general Montgomery was provided, was much too small to render an immediate siege of St. John's prudent; and he would probably have been com pelled to remain inactive until too late in the season to effect his object, but for the information of spme Canadians, that the little fortress of Chamblee, which was but feebly garrisoned, contained a gocd store of that article. He accordingly made himself mas ter of that place, and, to his great satisfaction, found one hun dred and twenty barrels of powder, besides a large quantity of other military stores and provisions. The expedition against this fortress was conducted by majors Brown and Livingston. They found here the standard of the seventh regiment, which was immediately sent to the congress. "General Montgomery being thus enabled to carry on Ihe siege of St. John's, proceeded to erect his works and to prepare for a general assault. Genera] Carleton, in the mean time, hearing the situation of St. John's, prepared to raise a force for its relief. He had posted colonel M'Lean, with a regiment of Scotch emigrants, at the mouth of the Sorel; and having raised about a thousand men at Montreal, he attempted to cross at Longueil, for the purpose of forming a junction, and marching for the relief of St. John's. But colonel Ward, who was sta tioned at Longueil, with three hundred Green mountain boys and a small piece of artillery, kept so warm a fire upon their boats, that the general was glad to return to Montreal. "When the news of this repulse reached Montgomery, he sent a flag to major Preston, who commanded the besieged fortress, summoning him to surrender , as all hope of relief was cut off by Carleton's repulse, and a farther resistance could only lead to a useless waste of lives. Major Preston solicited a few days to consider the proposal, being still impressed with the hope that general .Carleton might be able to come to his assistance; but upon his request being refused, he accepted the honorable terms of capitulation which general Montgomery offered to him, and surrendered his garrison prisoners of war. The British officers RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 127 spoke highly of the polite regard and attention shown to them by Montgpmery, whe permitted them te wear their swerds, and to take pff all their baggage and effects. The fort surrendered on the 3d of November."* On the 12th, he took Montreal, the British general Carleton having abandoned the town to its fate and made his escape down the river in the night, in a small canoe with muffled oars. Montgomery thus obtained possession of all the naval- force of the river, consisting of eleven armed vessels. "Many circumstances combined to- render the situation of ge neral Montgomery, though a conqueror, extremely unpleasant. The season was far advanced, and the severities of the climate induced many of his men to desert — the time for which many others were enlisted was about to expire, and few were wil ling to encounter the hardships of a long march through the deep snows of December. Nothing but personal attachment to the noble character of the commander, could have kept a. single regiment together. After new clothing all his men at Montreal, and rendering them in other respects as comfortable as the magazines there would admit of; and having taken the necessary measures to ensure a supply of provisions on the march, the general pushed on through every difficulty, and join ed Arnold, who had marched through the wilderness, and ar rived before Quebec a short time previous, on the 1st of Decem ber. His appearance was a source of great joy to the colonel's troops, as he had "not forgotten to bring with him a store of such supplies as he knew them to want. "Montgomery lost no time after his arrival in preparing for an immediate attack. The whole of his force did not amount to more than the troops ofthe garrison; but he attempted, by as suming an appearance of greater strength, to weaken the confi dence of the latter, and thereby accomplish his object without bloodshed. — For this purpose, on the 5th of December, he ad dressed a letter to the governpr, in which he urged him, by every argument calculated tp produce an effect upon his humanity or his fears, to spare his garrison the dreadful censequences ef a storm, by an immediate surrender. General Carleton, however, ?Alien's Revolution, 128 RICHARD MONTGPMERY. was top old a spldier to be deceived by appearances — he knew 'the difficulties under which Montgomery labered, and was con vinced that, if his garrison could hold' out for a few days, the climate would compel the provincials to abandpn the siege. Montgomery's messenger was fired at, and all communication forbidden. In this situation Montgomery commenced a bom bardment from five small mortars, which he kept up for several days, with the hope of throwing the garrison into confusion. But it seemed to produce no effect. A battery of six guns was next Opened upon them, at the distance of seven hundred yards, with no better success. The garrison remained insensible to any im pressions of alarm. "General Montgomery now found himself under circumstan- pes much more delicate and embarrassing than those which had sixteen years before, environed the hero Wolfe at the same spot. Several feet of snow covered the ground — his troops had under gone every 'hardship that it was possible to suffer, and it seemed now almost impossible for human nature to endure more. He had arrived before Quebec a conqueror, his fame had reached his countrymen and his commander at Cambridge, and they would expect a continuance of success. He remembered, more-* over, his parting words to the beloved partner of his bosom — ¦ 'You shall never blush for your Montgomery,' he had said when he gave her the last embrace. While these feelings and recol lections were alternately elevating and depressing his nobje spk rit, he made a desperate resolution to attempt the enemy's works- by escalade. And such was the skill with which his plan had been formed, that no doubt can remain that he would ultimately have succeeded, had not his whole scheme been communicated fo the garrison by some scoundrels whe deserted him at this criti cal moment. . ^'Montgomery soon perceived that the garrison were prepay red; and it became necessary to change his whole plan of opera tions. Having disposed his army into four divisions, two of which he intended should make feigned attacks, while Arnold and himself should be engaged in real attacks upon two oppo, site sides, before daylight, on the 81st of December, in a thick fall of snow, Montgomery advanced at the head of the New- Yorkers, Hefe again his fate resembled Wolfe's, for before he RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 129 could reach the place from whence he intended to commence the attack, the signal had been given through mistake, and the whole garrison were alarmed. It was too late now to make another change in the plan of attack, and Montgomery pushed on — he was compelled to advance through a narrow path be tween a precipice and overhanging rocks — he had seized and passed the first barrier, and was boldly advancing towards the second, with a few of his bravest companions, when a discharge of grape shot from the cannon that were placed there, stopped the progress of this brave and excellent officer, and destroyed the hopes of the enterprise. Upon the fall of the general, the officer upcn whpm the command of his party devolved, retired without making any attempt to pursue the advantages already gained. Some of his bravest officers had shared the glorious destiny of Montgomery, or Quebec must have fallen to the uni ted efforts of this party and that under Arnold."* In accordance with the concerted plan, "Arnold advanced with "the utmost intrepidity against the battery in the other quar ter of the city. The alarm was immediately given, and the fire on his flank commenced, which, however, did not prove very destructive. As he approached the barrier, he received a mus ket ball in his leg, which shattered the bone, and was carried off the field to the hospital. Morgan rushed forward to the bat tery, at the head of his company, and received from one of the pieces, almost at its mouth, a discharge of grape shot, which killed only one man. A few rifles were immediately fired into the embrazures, by which a British soldier was wounded in the head, and the barricade being instantly mounted, with the aid of ladders brought by his men on their shoulders, the battery was deserted without discharging the other gun. The captain of the guard, with the greater number of his men, fell into the hands ofthe Americans, and the others made their escape. "Morgan formed the troops, consisting of his own company and a few bold individuals who had pressed forward from other parts of the division, in the streets within the. barrier, and topk into custody several English and Canadian burghers; but his situation soon became extremely critical. He was not followed ?Allen's Revolution. 130 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. by. the main body ofthe division; he had no guide, and was, him self, totally ignorant of the situation of the town. It was yet dark; and he had npt the slightest knpwledge ef the ccurse te be pursued, or of the defences to be encountered. Thus circum stanced, it was thought unadvisable to advance further. "As the glow, produced by immense exertion, gave way to- the cold, which was so intense that they were covered with ici cles, and as the ardor, excited by action, subsided when they were no longer engaged, even this daring party became less ani mated. Whilst waiting in total ignorance of the fate of the residue of the division, the darkness of the night, the fury of the storm, the scattering fire still kept up by the enemy, prin cipally in their rear, the paucity of their numbers, and the un certainty concerning their future operations, visibly affected them. It was after some deliberation, determined to maintain their ground while Morgan should return to the barrier they had passed, for the purpose of bringing up the troops who were supposed tp be still pn the pther side of it. "They were soon joined by lieutenant-colonel Greene and majcrs Bigefow and Meiggs, with several fragments ef compa nies, so is to constitute, altogether, about two hundred men. "As the light ofthe day began to appear, this small but gal lant party was again formed, with Morgan's company in front; and, with one voice, they loudly called on him to lead them against the second barrier, which was now known to be less than forty paces from them, though concealed by an angle of the street from their immediate view. Seizing the few ladders brought with them, they again rushed on to the charge, and on turning the angle, were hailed by captain or lieutenant Ander son, who was just issuing with a body of troops through the gates of the barricade, for the purppse pf attacking the Americans, whem he had expected to find dispersed, and probably plunder ing the town. Morgan, who was in the front, answered his challenge by a ball through his head, and as he fell, he was draJwn within the barricade, and the gate closed upon the as sailant, who received at the same instant a tremendous fire from the windows overlooking the barrier, and from the port holes through it. Ladders were immediately placed against the barricade, and for some time a fierce contest was maintained, RICHARD MONTGOMERY. l3l which on the part of the assailants, was also a bloody one. A few of the bolder among the front files, ascended the ladders under this deadly fire; and saw on the other side of the barri cade, double ranks of soldiers, who with their muskets planted on the ground, presented hedges of bayonets to receive them, if they should attempt to leap: to the earth. Exposed thus, in a narrow street, to a most gaffing fire, many ofthe assailants threw themselves into the stone houses on each side, which afforded them a shelter both from the storm and from the enemy, and through the windows of which they kept up an irregular and not very effective fire. One circumstance which greatly con tributed to the irresolution that now displayed itself, was, that, scarcely more than one in ten of their fire-arms could be used. Notwithstanding the precaution of tying handkerchiefs around the locks, the violence of the storm had totally unfitted them for service. Morgan soon found himself at the barrier, with only a few officers and a small number ofsoldiers;yethe could not pre vail on himself to relinquish the enterprise. With a voice lou der than the tempest, he called on those who Were sheltered in the houses, to come forth and scale the barrier; but he called in vain; neither exhortations nor reproaches could draw them in sufficient numbers to the point of attack. Being at length com pelled to relinquish all hope of success, he ordered the few brave men who still adhered to him, to save themselves in the houses, while he, accompanied only by lieutenant Heth, returned to wards the first barrier, in order to concert with the field officers some plan for drawing off the troops. He soon met majors Bige low and Meiggs, to whom he proposed an immediate retreat by the same route along which they had marched to the attack. This proposition was assented to, and lieutenant Heth was des patched to draw the troops from their present situation."* "In Montgomery, the Americans lost one of the bravest and most accomplished generals that ever led an army to the field. But he was not more illustrious for his skill and courage as an officer, than he was estimable for his private virtues. He pos sessed a mind adorned with every accomplishment, and a person in which every manly grace shone with conspicuous lustre. ?Marshall's Washington. 132 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. He was t 'A combination, and a form indeed,. „;. Where every God did seem to set his seal, To give the world assuranceravery and his worth were then acknowledged by the British army, and they were proud to regard him as a friend and brother; but notwithstanding the many professions of attachment and esteem for his character^ his body would have been thrown with the heap of slain, uncof- fined and unmarked, into the same indiscriminate pit, but for the lieutenant-governor; who, urged by the solicitations of the lady whom he afterward married, reluctantly procured a coffin of the roughest sort, and thus, apart from the rest, buried his former friend and companion. From this spot, after mouldering in the grave for more than forty-two years, the bones of this gallant soldier were removed by his fellow citizens of New-York, and deposited in a tomb more worthy of him. "The resemblance in the character, conduct, and destiny of Wolfe and Montgomery is too striking to be passed over with out a remark; Montgomery had been, in some measure, the pupil of Wolfe ; under his guidance he had learned the first rudi ments cf war; and in his career cf glory he saw an example werthy pf imitatipn. We have seen the difficulties under which Welfe had to struggle, and' we have seen the noble daring which led him, perhaps against the suggestions of prudence, to attempt to surmount them. He lived, as he expressed himself, but tp fight Montcalm on equal ground — this accomplished, he had consummated the only object of his existence, and died '¦'•con tent." Wolfe was fighting for his king, under the orders of his ministry; and here lies the striking difference in the lives and fortunes of these heroes. Montgomery entered on the expedi tion with the name of rebel. He ventured his fame, his charac-; ter, his life, in the service of revolted colonies — but it was to se cure te these colonics the enjoyment of liberty under the rights of the constitution. For this he sacrificed the tender endear ments cf conjugal felicity, and at the head of an undisciplined body of men, placed himself in opposition to a veteran general. RICHANh IfOtiTGOjfBRY. 133 Th$-akD! wkwfahe displayed was equal to -the fortitude which sues an enterprise demanded. He- tod' net only -to contend against a formidable eneay, but against the severities ef a ch> ante to which none ef bjg^men were accustomed. His having in one night constructeeVa battery of ice, will at once show his military £kfl£and indnstr^anM^he intense coldness of the cli mate. With a discontented? serving, and mutinous araay^'be pushed baldly forward in search ef that victory which had cheep ed the pnating.name|its of Welfe- But destiny had inarked a different ponrse for him; death arrested his steps too soon. He ypg£ cat «sff in tfie onsets and none yras left jto follow ,tbe plan «awh he-had marked ont— his- last sigh was ^H»bit*ered by an- ticipated defeat. "Victory brings its own bistre j ancl when she entwines her gar lands amend the bead efsjikjpgg£a$e corps, they- seem from that single circumstance te display a lovelier verdure: death gives a more teaching interest, a deeper pathos to the fete of the here— the milhen wiH admirej and pfggeriijc wUluaiways applaud. But hew does the tragedy deepen, wlkesJhe. here-espires on the field «f battle, saHoasded, not hy the beams of victory, but by the darkness of defeat. He sees nothing to cheer bis parting mo ments, nothing in anticipation ont pubhc obtequy, and that re- pmaw which seema -inseparable from want ef'sncee^1. This reproach, and this obteqoy . did pursued the shade of Montgo-^ mery; his heroism was stigmatized'' witJPlljfescharacter of rash*. ness— of inanity. %ut let it be remembeisd} ti^>ne£htng but the difference of a few hours in the term ef Ms life prevented that victory which consecrated the same rashness in Wolfe, and Im pressed upon it &e character of glory. ¦& X *• "The torn ef a die decides the fete j£an araqpff and the same thing is despecatidv in pne, or the highest effort of military skill in smother, according as defeat or success shall attend the inter- pase. , Bontogir^flfaat looks at the recrad»t>£hki0*y unbiassed, will observe so difference 4n the merits ef Wolfe and Montgo mery, They were both heyae&r-boJh entitled to the ehajiet of unbarta! ferae."* ..*ij^ »•-' - -t^ -\ To express ihe high gengn. VWfcu* ¦ i "ed hy bis country ef hi* 18 134 ISRAEL PUTNAM. services, congress directed a monument- of white marble to be erected, with the following inscription, which Was placed in front of St. Paul's church, New-York; — THIS MONUMENT was erected by order of Congress, 25th|janUary, 1776, to transmit to posterity, a grateful remembrance' of the PATRIOTISM, CONDUCT, ENTER PRISE AND PERSEVERANCE of Majbi-General RICHARD MONTGOMERY, who, after a series of successes, amidst the most discour aging difficulties, fell in the attack on QUEBEC , 31st December, 1775; aged 39 years. The remains of general Montgomery, after resting 42 yeare at Quebec, by a resolve of the state of New-York, were brought to the city of New- York,, on the 8th of July, 1818, and deposi ted with ample form, and grateful ceremonies,.near the aforesaid monument in St. Paul's church. ISRAEL PUTNAM, Major-Geiieral in the American Army. Israel Putnam, who, through a regular gradation of promo tion, became the senior major-general in the army of the Uni ted States, and next in rank to general A Washington, was born at Salem, Massachusetts, on the Tth day of January, 1718. Courage, enterprise, activity, and perseverance, were the first characteristics of his mind; and his disposition was as frank and generous as his mind was fearless and independent. AI- ISRAEL. PUTNAM. 133 too rauch suavity in his nature, to commence a jpiarrel, he had too -muolfcsen&ibihty jiot to feel, and too, much honor not to resent an intended insult.. The first time he went ,to-Boston, he was insulted fox his rusticity hy a.boy of twice, his sj&e and age: after bearing sarcasms until his., patience was worn out, he challenged, engaged,»gnd vanquished his unmannerly an tagonist, to the great diversion of a crowd of spectators. Awhile a stripling, his. ambition was to perform the labor ofa man, and to exce/l^athletic^¥§Vsien5. . In the year 1739, he removed front; Safem to Pomfret, an in- .hwJ fertile: town in Connecticut, . Having here purchased a consideeable tract of land, he applied, himself successfully to "Our farmer, sufficiently occupied in building a house and barn, felling woods, making fences^ sewing grain, planting or chards} and taking care pf his stock, h»d to encounter, in torn, the calamities occasioned by drought in. summer, blast in har vest, loss -of .pattfein winter, and the desolation of his sheepfold by wohes. ,.Jn,.one night he had seventy fiae she^p and goats killed, besides, many ,^mhs and .kids wounded, This havoc was committed-by a she-wolf,- wliich, with her., annual whelps, had fon several years infegted the. vicinity.' .-:. .,,.- "This wolf at length became such an. intolerable .nuisance, that Mr, Putnarn entered . into a combination, with five ©fjjuis neigljbap tojhuntaiternately until they could.destroy her. Two, by rotation, were to. he constantly in pursuit.. |t was known that, having .lost the toes from pne foot hy. a ;ste£l?trap, s|ie made one track shorter than ..the other. By this .vestige the pursuers recognised, in a light snow, the route of tfhis perni^&us animal. Having folfow/ed her to Connecticut river, and .foffnd sh.et.had turned in a. direct. ccurse toward Ppmfret, they inV mediately returned,; and by. ten e'clqck the next merning the blood-hounds diad, driven her into, a den abeut three miles dis- femt from thehouse'of Mr, F^utnam. The pepple soon collec ted with dpgs,,guns, straw,fir%, and; sulphur, te; attack the com mon enemy. -With, this apparatus several unsuccessful efforts were made to -fosoe her fratil' the den. The hounds came back badly, ,weunded,» and refused tp return. The smeke of blazing straw had no effect. Nor. did the fumes of burnt brimstone with 136 ISRAEL PUTNAM. • which the cavern was filled, ccmpel hei? toqwt ffe*reti«ew«nt. Wearied with such fruitless atterripts^ (wbfeh had brought the time to ten o'clock at night,) Mr. Putnam tried once more! to make his dpg enter$ but in vain-, he proposed to his negro man tp go down into the cavern and fshoot the Wolf. The negr© declined thei hazardous service* jiBben it was thalt the master, angry at the disappointment, and declaring that he was asha med te have a eoward in his family, resolved himself -to destroy the ferocious beast, lest she should escape through some unknown fissure of the rOck- His neighbors strongly remonstrated' against the perilous enterprise; but he, knowing that wild animals were intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of birch bark, the- only combustible material which he could obtain, that would afford light in this deep and darksome Cave, prepared for his descent. Having accordingly, divested himself of his coat and Waistcoat, and having a long -rope fastened round his legs, by which "he might be pulled .back at a conceited- signal, he entered headforemost, with the blazing torch in his hand; : The aperture of the' den, on the east side ofa very high ledge of rOcks, is about two feet square; from tnesnee it descends ob: trquely fifteen feet, theh running horizontally aboutylen more, it ascends gradually sixteen feet towards its termination. The sides of this subterraneous cavity are composed of. smooth and solid rocks, which seem to haye been divided- from each other by some forineTrearthquake. The top artrf-faottom are also of stone; and the entrance, in winter, being covered with.iee,'is exceedingly slippery. It is inno place high enough for a man to raise himself upright, nor in any part more than three feet in yMdth. "c- ^laviffg groped his passage to the horizontal part pf thefden, the most terrifying darkness appeared in front ofthe dim circle of light afforded by his torch." It was silent as the house of death. Hone but monsters of the desert had ever before explored this sOHtary manstonof hprror. He, pautiously.proceeding onwards, cltne te the aseent; whicHMie slowly mounted pn his -hands and knees until he discovered the glaring eyeballs ofthe wolf, wta Was sitting at the extremity of the cavern. Startled at the sight of fire, she gnashed her teeth, and gave a -sullen grejgl. ^s soon as he had made the necessary discovery, he kieflfd the ISRAEL PUTNAM. 137 rope* as a signal for pulling him outi< The people at the mouth ofthe den, who had listened with painful anxiety, hiring the growling of the wolf, and supposing their friend to be in the most imminent danger, drew him forth with such celerity that his shirt was stripped over his head, and his skin severely lace rated. After he had adjusted his clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck-shot, holding a torch in pne hand, and the mus ket in the Other, he descended the second time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf, assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and. dropping her .head between her lege, was evi dently fin the attitude* and on the point of springing,' at him. • At the ^critical instant he levelled and fated at her head. Stunned with the shock, and suffocated with the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. "But having refreshed himself, and permitted the smoke to dissipate, he went down the third time. Once more he came -within sight ef the wolf,:who appearing very passive, he applied the torch to her nose, and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her ears, and then kicking the rope, (still tied round his legs,) the people above with no small exultation, dragged them both out together."* But the time had now arrived, which was to turn the instru ments of husbandry' into weapons of hostility, and to exchange the hunting of wolves, which had ravaged the sheepfolds, for the pursuit after savages who had desolated the frontiers; Put nam was about 37 years of age, when the war between Eng land and France broke out in America. — In 1755 he was ap pointed to the command of a company, in the first regiment of provincials that was levied by Connecticut. The regiment joinnd the army at the opening of the campaign, not far dis tant from Crown Point. "Soon after his arrival at camp, he became intimately ac quainted with the famous partizan captain, afterwards major Rogers,. with whom he was frequently associated in traversing the wilderness, reconnoiterihg the enemy's lines, gaining inte*Bi" gence and taking straggling prisoners, as well as in beating up the quarters, and surprising the advanced pickets of their army. *Life of Putnam. 188 ISRAEL PUTNAM. For these operations, a corps of rangers was formed fkwa.the irregulars. The first time Rogers and Putnam were detached with a party of these'light troops, it was the fortune of the lat ter to preserve, with his own hand, the life of the former^. and to cement their friendship with the- blood of one of their ene mies. ¦¦'-.- . : The object of this expedition was to obtain an accurate knowl edge of the position and state of the works at Crown Point. It was impracticable to approach with their party near enough for this purpose, without ¦ being discovered.— Alone, the under taking, was sufficiently hazardous, on account of the swarms "Few -are so. ignorant of war as not to'know that military ad venturers, in the night, are .always extremely liable to accidents. Captain Putnam, having been commanded to reconnoitre tkp enemy's camp at the Ovens near Ticonderoga, took the, brave ?Life of Putnam. '^j- ISRAEL PUTNAM; 139 lieutenant Robert Durkee as bis5 companion. In attempting- to execute these orders, he narrowly missed being taken himself inthe first instance, and killing^his friend in the second. It was customary for the British and provincial tropps , to place their fires round their camp, which frequently exposed them to the enemy's scouts and patroles. A contrary practice then un known ih the English army, prevailed among the French and Indians. The plan was much more rational; they kept their fires- in the centre, lodged their men circularly at a distance, and posted their sentinels in the surrounding darkness.. Our partizans approached' the camp, and- supposing the sentries were within the circle of fires, crept upon their.-hands and knees with the greatest possible caution, until, to their utter- astonish ment, tbey found themselves in the thickest of the enemy. The sentinels, discovering them, fired, and slightly wounded Durkee in the thigh.* He and Putnam had ne alternative. They fled. The latter being foremost, and scarcely able te see his hand be-$ fore him, sppn plunged into a clay-pit. Durkeej almcst at the identical mement, came tumbling after. Putnam, by no means pleased at finding a companipn, and believing him to be pne of the enemy s lifted his tomahawk to give the deadly blow, when Durkee, (who had followed him so closely as to knpw him^) in quired whether he had escaped unhurt. Captain Putnam, in stantly recognizing the voice, dropped his weapen; and both springing from the pit, made good their retreat to the neighbor ing ledges, amidst a shower of random shot. There they be took themselves to a large log, by the Side of which they lodged the remainder of the night. Before they lay down, captain Putnam said he had a little rum in his canteen, which could ne ver be more acceptable or tiecessfry: but on examining the can teen, which hung under his arm, he found the enemy had pier ced it with their balls, and that there was not a drop of liquor left. The next day he found fourteen bullet holes in his blan ket."* ¦•' Nothing worthy of remark happened during the course of this campaign, but the active services of captain Putnam on every occasion attracted the admiration of the pubhc, and in- ; '". ' "* ?Life Of Putnam. 140 ISRAEL PUTNAM. duced the. legislature of Connecticut to promote him to a major ity in 1757. "In the winter ef 1757, when cpfonel Haviland was comman dant at Fort Edward, the barracks adjpining to the nerthwest bastion took fire. They extended within twelve feet of the magazine, which contained three hundred barrels of powder. On its first discovery* fhe fire raged with great violence. The commandant endeavored, in vain, by discharging some pieces Of heavy artillery against the supporters of tins flightof barracks, to level them with the ground, Putnam arrived from the Isl and where he was stationed,, at the moment when the blaze ap' pioached that end which was eontigueus to the magazine. In stantly a vigorous attempt was made to extinguish tfie confla gration. A way was opened by a postern gate to tbe river, and the soldiers were employed in bringing water; which he, having mounted on a ladder to the eves of the building, received and' threw upon the flame. It continued, notwithstanding their ut most efforts, to gain uppn them. He stood, enveloped in smoke, so near the sheet of fire, that a pair of thiek blanket mittens were burnt entirely from his hands; he was supplied with an other pair dipt in water. Colonel Haviland, fearing that he would perish in the flames, called to him to come down. But he entreated that he might be. suffered to remain, since destruction must inevitably ensue if their exertions should be remitted. The gallant commandant, .not less astonished than charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any more effects to be car ried out of the fort, animated the men to redoubled diligence, and exclaimed, "If we must be blown up, we will go all togeth? er." At last, when the barracks were seen to be tumbling, Putnam descended, placed himself at the interval, and contin ued from an incessant rotatton pf replenished buckets, te pour water uppn the magazine. The eutside planks were already consumed by the proximity of the fire, and as enly pne thick ness ef timber intervened, the trepidatien npw became general and extreme. Putnam, still undaunted, covered with a cloud of cinders, and scorched with the intensity of the heat, main tained his position until the fire subsided, and the danger was wholly over. He had contended for one hour and a half with that terrible element. His legs, his thighs, his arms, and bis t. ISRAEL PUTNAM. 141 face were blistered; and when he pulled off his second pair ef mittens, the skin from his hands and fingers felfowed them. It was a mpnth before he recovered. The commandant, to whom his merits had before endeared him, could not stifle the emotions of gratitude due to the man who had been so instrumental in preserving the magazine, the fort, and the garrison; In the month of August, five hundred men were employed, under the orders of majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch the motions of the enemy near Ticonderoga. At South-Bay they separated the party into two equal divisions, and Rogers took a position on Wopd creek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. Uponjieing, sometime afterwards, discovered, they formed a re-union, and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. Their march through the Woods was in three divisions by files; the right commanded by Rogers, the left by Putnam, and the centre by captain D'Ell. At the moment of moving, the fa mous French partizan, Molang, who had been sent with five , hundred men to intercept our -party, was not more than one mile and a half distant from them. Major Putnam was just * emerging from the thicket into* the common forest, when the enemy rose, and with discordant yells and whoops, commenced an attack upon the right of his division. Surprised, but undis mayed, Putnato halted, returned the fire, and passed the word for the other divisions to advance for his support. D'Ell came. The action, though widely scattered, and principally fought be tween man and man, soon grew gener*al and intensely warm. Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impracticable to cross the creek in his rear, determined to maintain his ground; Inspi red by his example, the officers and men behaved with great bravery;, sometimes they fought aggregately in open view, and sometimes individually under cover; taking aim from behind the bodies of trees, and acting in a manner independent of each other. For himself, having,discharged his fuzee several times, at length it missed fire, while the muzzle was pressed*against the breast ofa large and well proportioned savage. This war rior, availing himself of the indefensible attitude of his adver sary, with a tremendous war-whoop, sprang forward, with his lifted hatchet, and compelled him to surrender; and having dis armed and boussd him fast to a tree, returned to the battle. 19 142 ISRAEL PUTNAM. * The intrepid captains D'Ell and Harman, who new cemmand- ed, were forced to give ground for a little distance: the savages, conceiving this to be the certain harbinger of victory rushed im petuously on, with dreadful and redoubled cries. But our two pajffizaiis, cplfeeting a handful of brave men, gave the pursuers so warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to retreat a little beyond the spef at which the acticn had ccmmenced. Here they made a stand. This change pf ground pccasfoned the tree te which Putnam was tied to be directly between the fire pfthe twp parties. Human' imaginaticn can hardly figure to itself a more deplorable situation. The balls flew incessantly from either side, many struck the tree, while seme passed through the sleeves and skirts of his coat. In tbis state of jeop ardy, unable to move his body, to stir his limbs, or even to in. cline his head, he remained more than an hour. So equally balanced, and so obstinate was the fight! At one moment, while the battle swerved in favor of the enemy, a young savage chose an odd way of discovering his humor. He found l?;itnam bound. He might have despatched him at a blow. But he loved better to .excite the terrors of the prisoner, by hurling a to- *' mahawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object was to see how near he could throw it without touching him — the wea pon struck in the tree a number of times at a hair's breadth dis tance from the mark. When the Indian had finished his amuse ment, a French bas-officer (a much more inveterate savage by nature, though descended from so humane and polished a nation) perceiving Putnam, came up to him, and, levelling afiizee with in a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it — it missed fire. Ineffectually did the intended victim solicit the treatment due to his situation, by repeating that he was a prisoner of war. The degenerate Frenchman did not understand the language 'of ho nor or of nature: deaf to their voice, and dead to sensibility, he violentk, and repeatedly, pushed the muzzle of his gun against Putnam sribs, and finally gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the butt-end of his piece. After this dastardly deed he left him. At length the active intrepidity of D'Ell and Harman, secon ded by the persevering valcr pf their follewers, prevailed. They drove from the field the enemy, whe left abeut ninety dead be hind them. As they were retiring, Putnam was untied by the ISRAEL PUTNAM. fL 143 Indian who had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards called master. Having been conducted for some distance from the place of action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings, and shoes; loaded with as many ofthe packs of the wounded as could be piled upon him; strongly pinioned, and his wrists tied as closely together as they could be pulled with a cord. After he had marched, through no pleasant paths, in this painful man ner, for many a tedious mile^ the party, (who were excessively fatigued) halted to breathe. His hands were now immoderately swelled from the tightness of the ligature; and the pain had be come intolerable. His feet were so much scratched, that. the blood dropped fast from them. Exhausted with bearing a bur den above his strength, and frantic with torments exquisite be yond endurance, he entreated the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock' him on the head and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French officer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and some of the packs to be taken off. By this time the Indian who captured him, and had been absent with the wounded, coming up, gave him a pair of moccasons, and ex pressed gre^at indignation aj tjie^nworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. -X1" * That savage chief again returned tothe care of the wounded and the Indians, about two hundred in humber, went before the rest ofthe party to the place where the whole were that flight- to encamp. They took with them major Putnam, on whom, besides innumerable other outrages, they had the barbarity to inflict a .deep wound with the tomahawk in the left cheek. His sufferings were in this place to qe^consummated.- A scene of horror, infinitely greater than had^^r, met his eyes before, was now preparing. It was determined to roast him alive. For this purpose they led him into a dark forest, "stripped him naked,,bound him to a tree, and piled dry brushy with ofherfuel, at a small distance, in a circle round him. They accompanied their labors, as if for his funeral 'dirge, with screams and sounds inimitable but by savage Voices. * Then they set the piles on fire. A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it, until at last, the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon began to feel the scorching heat. 144 # 1ISRAEL PUTNAM. His hands were so tied that he could mpve his body. He of ten shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at.the very idea pf which all but savages must shudder, afforded thehighest diversion tp his inhuman tormentors, whp dempnstrated the de lirium pf their joy by corresppndent yells, dances, and jesticula- tions. He saw. clearly that his final hour was inevitably come. He summoned all his resolution, and composed his mind, as far as the circumstances could admit, to bid an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the world would scarcely have cost a single pang; but for the idea of home, but for the remem brance of domestic endearments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. His thought was ulti mately fixed on a happier state of existence beyond the tortures • he was beginning to endure. The bitterness ef death, even of that death which is acccmpanied with the deepest agonies, was, in a manner, past— nature, with a feeble struggle? was quitting its last hpld pn sublunary things-^-when a French cfficer rushed through the crowd, ppened a way by scattering the burning brands, and unbcund the victim. It was Mclang himself — to whpm a savage, unwilling to see another human sacrifice immo lated, had run and communicated the tidings. That comman dant spurned and^severely Veprfnfanded the barbarians, whose nocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he suddenly ended. Put nam did not want for feeling pr gratitude. The French ccm- mander, fearing te trust him alpne with them, remained until he ceuld deliver him in safety, into the hands of hjs master. £The -sayage approached his prisoner kindly,' and seemed/tb tre£t him with particular; affection. He offered him some hard biscuit; but finding that he could not chew them, on account of tfie blow he had receiyjdjffiom the Frenchman, this more hu mane savage soaked 'some of *the ^biscuit in water, and made him Suck the pulp-like part. Determined, however, not to lose his cap %e,^the i refreshment being finished) he took the mocca-, sons from liis feet, and tied them to one *f his wrists; then dk recting him to Tie down on his back upon the bare ground, he stretched one arm to its full length, and bound it fast to a young tree; the other arjn was extended anahound in the same man-, ne*— his legs were stretched apart, and fastened to two saplings, Thena,*numbei pf tall, but slender peles, were cut down, which, ISRAEL PUTNAM. 145 with seme long bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot; on each side lay as many Indians as could -conveniently find lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable and painful posture he remained uutil morn ing; During this night, the longest and most dreary conceiva ble, our hero used to relate that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could not even refrain from smiling when he reflected on this ludicrous group for a painter, of which he himself was the principal figure. The next day he was allowed his blanket and moccasons, and permitted to march without carrying any pack, or receiving any insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's meat was given, and which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticonderoga; and the prisoner was placed un der the care of a French guard. The savages, who had been prevented from glutting their diabolical' thirst for blood, took other opportunities for manifesting their malevolence for the dis-. appointment, by horrid grimaces and angry gestures; but they were suffered no; more to offer violence or personal indignity to him. ... After having, been examined by the marquis de Montcalm, > major Putnam was conductedto Montreal by a French officer, who treated him writh the greatest, indulgence and humanity. At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter^Schuy. fer, remarkable for his philanflirophy, generosity and friendship, was of the'numbe^ No sooner had he heard of major Put nam's, arrival, than he went to the fcterpreter's quarters, and in- quiredj^vhether he had a provincial major in his custpdy? He found major Putnam in a comfortless condition — without cdat, waistcoat,' or hose— the' remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and ragged — his ^eard long ancfsqualid — his legs torn by thorns and briars — his face gasljgd with wounds, and swollen with brui ses. Colonel Schuyler, irritated beyond all Sjffferance at .such a sight,- could scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consis tent with the prudence of a prisoner and the meekness ofa chris tian. Major Putnarh was immediately treated according to his rank, clothed in a decent manner, and supplied' with 'money by that liberal and sympathetic.patron of the distressed. The capbire of Fontenac by general Bradstreet, afforded oc- 146 ISRAEL PUTNAM. casien for an exchange ef prispners. Colonel Schuyler was comprehended in the cartel. A generous-spirit can never be satisfied' with imposing teaks for it? generosity te accomplish. Apprehensive if it should be knpwn that Putnam was a distin guished partizan, his liberatien might be retarded, and knowing that there were officers who, from the length of their captivity, had a claim of priority to exchange,-he had, by, his happy ad dress, induced the governor to offer, that whatever officer he might think proper to nominate should be included in the pre sent cartel. With great politeness in manner, but seeming in difference as to object, he expressed his warmest acknowledg ments to the gpvernor, and said, — 'There is an old man here, who' is a provincial major, and wishes to be at home with his wife and' children; he can do no good here or any where else: I believe your excellency had- better keep some of the young men, who have no wife nor children to care for, and let the old fel low go home with nie.' This justifiable finesse had the desired effect.* Shortly after,- Putnam was promoted to a/lieutenant-colonel, in which he continued until the feh^e of the war, ever, and on » all occasions, supporting 'his hard-earned reputation for valor and intrepidity; and, at the expiration of ten years fronThis first receiying a commission, aftes having seen as much service, en dured agmany hardships, encountered as many dangers, and ac quired as many laurels as any officgr of his rank,, with great sat isfaction laid aside his uniform and returned^to the plough. On the S2d day of March, 1765, the stamp-act received the royal assent. Colonel Putnam was at this time a mSrftber of the house ofjassembly of the. state of Connecticut, and was depu ted to wait on "the then governor Fitch on the subject. The questions of the governor and answers of Putnam, will serve to indicate the spiritof the times. Afto^r some conversation, the governor asked , colonel Putnam, "what he should do if the ftamped paper should be sent to him by the king's authority?" Putnam replied — "lock it up until we shall visit you again." "And what will you do then?" "We *hall expect you to give us the key of trie room in which it is deposited ; andjjf yon think >. ' • ?Life of Putnam. „— , ISRAEL* PUTNAM. 147 it fit, in order to secure yourself from blame, you may forewarn us," upon our peril, not to enter the room." "And what will you do afterwards?"' "Send it safely back again." "But iPI should refuse admission?" 'In such case your house will be de molished in five minutes." It is supposed that a report of this conversation was one reason why the stamp paper was never sent from New- York to Connecticut. Being once, in particular, asked by a British officer, with whom he had formerly served, "whether he did not seriously be lieve that a Well-appointed British army of five thousand vete rans could march through the whole continent of America?" — he briskly replied, "no doubt, if they behaved civilly, and paid well fer every thing they wanted; but,'" after a moment's pause, added, '"if they should attempt it in a hostile manner, (though the American men were out of the question,) the women, with their ladles and broomsticks, would knock them all on. the head be fore they had got half way through." v The battle of Lexington found Putnam in the midst or his agricultural pursuits. Immediately upon learning the fatal rencounter, he left his plottgh in the middle of the field, unyoked his team, and, without waiting fo change his clothes, set off for the theatre of action. But finding the British retreated to Bfgton, and invested by a sufficient force to watch their movements, he catoe back to Connecticut, levied a regiment under adthority of the legislature, and speedily returned tp Cambridge. He was new prompted to a majpr-general en the continental establish ment. "Net tong after this period* the British commandernn-chief found the means to convey a proposal, privately, to general Put nam, that if he Would relinquish fhe rebel parly, he might rely upon being made a major-general on the British establishment, and receiving a great pecuniary compensation for his services. General Putnam spurned at the offer; which however, he thought prudent at that time to conceal from public notice."' -. "In the battle of Bunker's Hill, he exhibited his usual intre pidity. He directed the men to reserve their fire, till the ene my was Very near, reminded them of their skill, and told them to take good aim. They did so, and the execution was terrible. After the retreat, he made a stand at Winter Hill, and drove 148 ISRAEL PUTNAM. back the enemy under cover of their ships. When the army was organized by general Washington at Cambridge, Putnam was appointed to command the reserve. In August, 1776, he was stationed at 'Brooklyn on Long Island. After the defeat of our army on the twenty-seventh of that month, he went to New- York and was very serviceable in the city and neighborhood. In October or November he was sent to Philadelphia to fortify that city. In January, 1777, he was directed to take post at Princetori where he continued until spring. At this place a sick prisoner, a captain, requested that a friend in the British army at Bruns wick might be sent for to assist him in making his will. Put nam was perplexed; He had but fifty men under his command, and he did not wish to have his weakness known; yet he was unwilling to deny the request. He) '¦however, sent a flag of truce, and directed the officer to be brought in the night. In the evening lights were placed in all the college windows, and in every apartment of the vacant houses throughout the town. The officer, on his return, reported that general Putnam's army could not consist of less than foijr or five thousand men. In the spring he was appointed to the command of a separate army in the highlands of New- York. One Palmer, alieutenauj? in the tory new levies, was.detected in the camp; governor Tryon reclaimed him as a British officer, threatening vengeance if he was not restored. General Putnam wrote the following pithy reply: — "Sir, Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant' in your king's service, was taken in my camp as a spy; he was tried as a spy; he was condemned as a spy; and be shall be hanged as a spy. P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." After, the loss of Fort Montgomery, the commander-in-chief determined to build another fortification, and he directed Put nam to fix upon a spot. To him belongs the praise of having chosen West Point;* "About the middle of winter, while' general Putnam -was on a visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found governor Tryon advancing upon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred men. To oppose these, general Putnam had only a piquet of 150 men, -*AHen's Biographical Dictionary. ISRAEL PUTNAM; 149 and twp iron field pieces, without horses or dragropes. He, however, planted his cannon on the high ground, by the meeting house, and retarded their approach by firing several times, until, perceiving the horse (suppprted by the infantry) about to charge, he crdered the piquet te provide for their safety by retiring to a swamp inaccessable to horse, and secured his own by plunging down the steep precipice at the church upon a full trot. This precipice is sp steep, where he descended, as tp have artificial stairs, composed of nearly one hundred stone steps, for the accom modation of fopt passengers. There the dragoons, who were but a sword's length from him, stopped short; for the declivity wa3 so abrupt, that they ventured not to follow him; and, before they could gain the valley, by going round the brow ofthe hill in the ordinary road, he was far enough beyond their reach. He contin ued his route unmolested, to Stamford; from whence, having strengthened his piquet by the junction of some militia, he came back again, and in turn, pursued governor Tryon in his retreat. As he rode down the precipice, one ball, of the many fired at him$ went through his beaver; but governor Tryon, by way of com pensation for spoiling his hat, sent himsoon afterwards, as a pre sent, a complete suit of clothes."* The campaign of 1779, which was principally spent in strengthening the works at West Point, finished the military career of Putnam. A paralytic affection impaired the activity of his body, and compelled him to quit the army; "The remainder of the life of general Putnam was spent in quiet retirement with his family. He experienced few inter ruptions in his bodily health, (except the paralytic debility with which he was afflicted,) retained full possession of his mental faculties, and enjoyed the society of his friends until the 17th of May, 1790, when he was violently attacked with an inflamma tory disease. Satisfied from the first that it would prpve mor tal, he was calm and resigned, and welcomed the approach of death with joy, as a messenger sent to call him from a life of toil to overlasting rest. On the 19th of May, 1790, he ended a life which had been spent in cultivating and defending the soil of his birth, aged 72 years." *Life of Putnam; 20 150 ISRAEL PUTNAM. The late Rev. Dr.Dwight, presidentof Yale College, who knew general Putnam intimately, has portrayed his character faithfully in the following inscription, which is engraven on his tomb: — Sacred be this Monument to the memory of ISRAEL PUTNAM, ESQ. senior Major-General in tho armies of the United States of America; who was born at Salem, in the province cf Massachusetts, on the 7th day ef January, A. D. 1718, and died on the 19th cf May, A. D. 1790. Passenger, if theu art a spldier, drop a tear over the dust of a Hero, who, ever attentive to the lives and happiness of his men, dared to lead where any dared to folfow : if a Patriot, remember the distinguished and gallant services rendered thy cpuntry by the Palriet whp sleeps beneath this marble: if theu art hpnest, generous and werthy, render a cheerful tribute cf respect te a man whpse generosity was singular, whese honesty was proverbial; who raised himself to universal esteem, and offices of eminent distinction, by personal worth, and a useful life. HENRY KNOX. 151 HENRY KNOX, Major-General in the American Army. "Among those of our countrymen, whp most zealously engar ged in the cause of liberty, few sustained a rank more deservedly conspicuous, than general Knox. He was one of those heroes, of whom it may be truly said, that he lived for his country. Born in Boston, July, 1750, his childhood and youth were em-; ployed in obtaining the best education that the justly celebrated schools of his native town afforded. In very early life he opened a book store, for the , enlargement of which he soon formed an extensive correspondence in Europe — but little time elapsed, before, at the call of his country, he relinquished his lucrative and increasing business. Indebted to no adventitious aid, his character was formed by himself; the native and vigerous prin- cipies cf his own mind made him what he was. Distinguished among his associates, from the first dawn of manhood, for a de cided predilection to martial exercise, he was at the age of eighteen, selected by the young men of Boston as one of the officers ofa company of grenadiers— a company so distinguished for its martial appearance, and precision of its evolutions, that it received the most flattering encomium, from a British officer of high distinction. This early scene of his military labors, served but as a schopl for that distinguished talent which afterwards shene with lustre, in the mest brilliant campaigns pf an eight years war; through the whple ef which, he directed the artillery with ccnsummatc skill and bravery. His heart was deeply engaged in the cause ef freedpm ; he felt it te be a righteeus cause, and te its accomplishment yielded every other consideratipn. When Britain declared hestilities, he hesitated not a mement, what ccurse he should pursue, No sordid calculation of interest retarded his decision. The quiet of domestic life, the fair prospect of increasing wealth, and even the endearing claim of family and friends, though urged with the most persuasive eloquence, had ne ppwer to divert the de termined purpose ef his mind. 153 HENRY KNPX, In the early stages ef British hostility, thpugh not in ccmmis- sion, he was not an inactive spectator. At the battle of Bunker Hill, as a volunteer he was constantly exposed to danger in reconnoitering the movements of the enemy, and his ardent mind was engaged with others in preparing those measures that were ultimately to dislodge the British troops, from their boast ed possessions of the capital of New-England. Scarcely had we begun to feel the aggressions of the British arms, before it was perceived, that without artillery, of which we were then destitute, the most important objects of the war could not be accomplished. No resource presented itself, but the desperate expedient of procuring it from the Canadian fron tier. To attempt this, in the agitated state of the country, through a wide extent of wilderness, was an enterprize so re plete with toil and danger, that it was hardly expected any one Would be found hardy enough to encounter its perils. Knox, however, saw the importance of the object — he saw his country bleeding at eyery pore, without the power of repelling her in vaders- — he saw the flourishing capital of the north in the pos session of an exulting enemy; that we were destitute ofthe means essential to their annoyance, and formed the daring and generous resolution of supplying the army with ordnance, how ever formidable the obstacles that might cpppse him. Young, robust, and yigprous, supported by an undaunted spirit, and a mind ever fruitful in resources, he commenced his mighty un dertaking, almost unattended, in the winter of 1775, relying solely for the execution of his object, on such aid as he might procure, from the thinly scattered inhabitants of the dreary re gion through which he had to pass. Every obstacle of season, roads and climate were surmounted by determined perseve rance; — and a few weeks, scarcely sufficient for a journey so re mote, saw him return laden with ordnance and the stores of war — drawn in defiance ef every ebstacle over the frozen lakes and mountains of the north. Most acceptable was this offering to our defenceless troops, and most welcome to the commander-in- " chief, whe well knew hew tp appreciate a service sp impprtant. This expeditien stamped the character cf him whp performed it for deeds of enterprise and daring. He received the most flattering testimony of approbation from the cpmmander-inTchief HENRY KNOX. 153 and from congress, and was in consequence of this important service appointed to the command of the artillery, of which he had thus laid the foundation, — in which command he continued with increasing reputation through the revolutfonary war. Among the incidents that occurred during the expedition to Canada, was his accidentul meeting with the unfortunate Andre, whose subsequent fate was so deeply deplored by every man of feeling in both nations. His deportment as a soldier and gen tleman so far interested general Knox in his favor, that he often afterward expressed the most sincere regret, that he was called by duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his condemna tion. During the continuance ofthe war, the corps of artillery was principally employed with the main bedy pf the army, and near the persen pf the commander-in-chief, and was relied on as an essential auxiliary in the most important battles. Trenton and Princeton witnessed his enterprise and valor. At that critical period of our affairs, when hope had almost yielded to despair, and the great soul of Washington trembled for his country's freedom, Knox was one of those that strength ened his hand, and encouraged his heart. At that awful mo ment, when the tempest raged Tvith its greatest fury, he, with Greene and other heroes, stood as pillars of the temple of lib erty, till the fury of the storm was past. The letters of general Knox, still extant, written in the dark est periods of the revolution, breathe a spirit of devotedness to the cause in wnich he had embarked, and a firm reliance on the favor of Divine Providence; from a perusal of these letters it is evident, that he never yielded to despondency, but in the most critical moments of the war, confidently anticipated its triumph ant issue. [n the bloody fields of Germantown and Monmouth, without derogating from the merits of others, it may be said, that during the whole of these hard fought battles, no officer was more dis tinguished for the discharge ofthe arduous duties of his command, — in the front of the battle, he was seen animating his soldiers and pointing the thunder of their cannen. His skill and bravery were se cpnspicucus pn the latter eccasicn, that he received the particular apprcbatipn pf the cemmander-in-chief, in general er- 154 HENRY KNOX. ders issued by him the day succeeding that of the battle, in which. he says, that "the enemy have done them the justice to acknowl edge, that no artillery could be better served than ours." But his great exertions on that occasion, together with the extreme heat ofthe day, produced the most alarming consequences to his health. To these most important scenes, his services were not confined; with a zeal devoted to-pur cause, he was ever at the pest pf danger — and the immertal hero, whe stands first pn the list pf heroes and pf men, has eften expressed his sense ef these services. In every field cf battle where Washington fought, Knpx was by his side. The ccnfidence cf the ccmmander-in- chief, inspired by early services, was thus matured by succeed ing events. There can be np higher testimpny to his merits, than that during a war of sp tong cpntinuance, passed almcst con-i stantly in the presence pf Washington, he uniformly retained his confidence and esteem, which at their separation had ripened into friendship and affection. The parting interview between general Knox and his illustrious and beloved chief, after the evacuation of New- York by the British, and Knox had taken possession of it at the head of a detachment of our army, was inexpressibly affecting. The hour of their separation having arrived, Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand and embraced him in silence, and in tears. His letters to the last moment of his life, contain the most flattering expressions of his unabated friendship. Honorable to himself as had beer* the career of his revolutionary services, new laurels were re served for him at the siege of York-Town. To the successful result of this memorable siege, the last brilliant act of our revo lutionary contest, no officer contributed more essentially than the commander of the artillery. His animated exertions, his mili tary skill, his cool and determined bravery in this triumphant struggle, received the unanimous approbation of his brethren in arms, and he was immediately created major-general by con gress, at the recommendation of the ccmmander-in-chief, with the ccncurrence of the whcle army. "The capture ef lord Cornwallis closed the contest, and with it his military life. Having contributed so essentially to the successful termination of the war, he was selected as one of the commissioners to adjust the terms of peace, which service he HENRY KNOX. 155 performed in conjunction with his colleagues, much to the sat isfaction of his country. He was deputed to receive the surren der of the city cf New-Yprk, and spon after appeinted to the ccmmand pf West Ppint. It was here that he was empleyed in the delicate and arducus duty of disbanding the army, and in ducing a soldiery, disposed to turbulence by their privations and sufferings, to retire tp dpmestic life, and resume the peace ful character cf citizens. "It is a fact most honorable to his character, that by his coun tenance and support he rendered.fhe most essential aid to Wash ington, in suppressing that spirit of usurpation which had been industriously fomented by a few unprincipled and aspiring mem. whose aim was the subjugation of the country to a military gov^ ernment. No hope of political elevation, no flattering assuran ces of aggrandizement, could tempt him to build his greatness on the ruin of his country. "The great objects of the war being accomplished, and peace restored to our country, general Knox was early, under the con federation, appointed secretary of war by congress, in which office he was confirmed by president Washington, after the es tablishment of the federal government. The duties of this office were ultimately increased, by having those of the navy attached to them — to the establishment of which his counsel and exertion eminently contributed. He differed in opinion from some other members of the cabinet on this most interesting sub ject.* One of the greatest men whom our country has produ ced, has uniformly declared that he considered America much indebted to his efforts for the creation of a power which has al ready so essentially advanced her respectability and fame. "Having filled the cffice ef the war department for eleven years, he ebtained the reluctant censent ef president Washing- ten to retire, that he might give his attentfon to the claims cf a numeious and increasing family. This retirement was in cen* currence with the wishes cf Mrs. Knpx, whp had acepmpanied him through the trying vicissitudes ef war, shared with him its toils and perils, and who was now desirous pf enjeying the less busy scenes cf domestic life. A pprtfon of the large estates ef ?President Adams. 156 HENRY KNOX; her ancestor, general Walde, had descended to her, which be,- by subsequent purchase increased, till it comprised, the whole Waldo patent, an extent of thirty miles square, and embracing a considerable part of that section of Maine which now consti tutes the counties of Lincoln, Hancock, and Penobscot. To these estates he retired from all concern in public life, honored as a soldier and beloved as a man, devoting much of his time to their settlement and improvement. He was induced repea tedly to take a share in the government of the state, both inthe house of representatives and in the council, in the discharge of whose several duties he employed his wisdom and experience with the greatest assiduity. "In 1798, when the French insults and injuries towards this country called for resistance, he was one of those selected to command our armies, and to protect our liberty and honor from the expected hostilities of the French directory: happily for our country, their services were not required. "Retired from the theatre of active life, he still felt a deep interest in the prosperity of his country. To that portion of it. which he had chosen for his residence, his exertions were more immediately directed. His views, like his soul; were bold and magnificent; his ardent mind could not wait the ordinary course of time and events; it outstripped the progress ef natural im provement. Had he pessessed a cold, calculating mind, he might have left behind him the most ample wealth; but he would not have been more highly valued by his ceuntry, or more beleved by his friends. He died at Mentpelier, his seat inTho- masten, 25th of October, 1 806, from sudden internal inflamma tion, at the age of fifty-six, from the full vigor of health. "The great qualities of general Knox were not merely those of the hero and the statesman; with these were ccmbined those pfthe elegant schelar and the accemplished gentleman. There have been these as brave and as learned, but rarely a union of such valcr with sp much urbanity — a mind sc great, yet so free frem pstentatton. "Philanthrophy filled his heart; in his> benevolence there was he reserve — it was as diffusive as the glebe, aad extensive as the family ef man. His feelings were strong and exquisitely tender. In the dpmestic circle they shpne with peculiar lustre— HENRY KNOX. 157 here the husband, the father, and the friend, beamed in every smile — and if ft any time acleud pvershadowed his own spirit, he strove to prevent its influence from extending te those that were dear to him. He was frank, generous, and sincere, and in his intercourse with the world, uniformly just. His house was the seat of elegant hospitality, and his estimate of wealth vyas its power of diffusing happiness. Tp the testimpny pf pri vate friendship may be added that ef less partial strangers, whp have bprne witness both to his public and private virtues; Lord Moira, who is now perhaps the greatest general that England can boast pf, has, in a late pUblicaticn, sppken in high terms of his military talents. Nor should the opinion of the marquis Chattleleux be omitted. 'As for general Knox,' he says, 'to praise him for his military talents alone would be to deprive him Of half the eulogium he merits; a man ef understanding, well informed, gay, sincere, and honest — it is impossible to know without esteeming him, or to see without loving him. Thus have the English, witheut intentien, added to the ornaments of the human species, by awakening talents where they least wish ed or expected.' Judge Marshall also, in his life of Washington, thus speaks of him: 'Throughout the contest ofthe revolution, this officer had continued at the head of the American artillery, and from being colonel ofa regiment, had been promoted to the rank of major-general. In this important station he had pre served a high military character, and on the resignation of ge neral Lincoln, had been appointed secretary of war. To his great services, and to unquestionable integrity, he was admitted to unite a sound understanding; and the public judgment, as well as that of the chief magistrate, pronounced him in all respects competenl to the station he filled. The president was highly gratified in believing that his public duty comported with his private inclination, in nominating general Knox to the office which had been conferred on him under the former government.'" 21 158 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, Major-General in the Ameriean Army. General St. Clair was a soldier from his youth. At art early age, while the independent states were yet British colo nies, he entered the royal American army, and was commission' ed as an ensign.' He was actively engaged, during the French war, in the army of general Wolfe, and was in the battle, carry ing a pair of colors, in which that celebrated commander was slain, on the plains of Abraham. He was highly esteemed by the distinguished commanders under whom he served, as a young officer of merit, capable of obtaining a high grade, of military reputation. "After the peace of 1763, he sold out and entered into trade, for which the generosity of his nature utterly disqualified him; he, of course soon became disgusted jvith a profitless pursuit, and' having married, after several vicissitudes of fortune, he lo cated himself in Ligonier valley, west of the Alleghany moun tains, and near the ancient route from Philadelphia to Pitts burgh. "In this -situation the American revolution found him, sur rounded by a rising family; in the enjoyment ef ease and inde pendence, with ihe fairest prospects of affluent fortune, the foun dation of which had been already established by his intelligence, industry, and enterprise. ~- "From this peaceful abode, these sweet demestic enjoyments, and the flattering prospects which accompanied them, he was drawn by the claims of a troubled ccuntry. A man knnwn to have been a military officer, and distinguished for knowledge and integrity, ceuld not in those times be concealed, even hy his favorite mountains, and therefore, without applicaticn pr expec tation on his part, he received the cemmission of a colonel, in the month of December, 1775, together with a letter from presi dent Hancock, pressing him torepair immediately to Philadel phia. He obeyed the summons, and took leave not only of his wife and children, but, in effect, of his fortune, to embark in the ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 159 cause of liberty, and the united colonies. In six weeks he com pleted the levy of a regiment of seven hundred and fifty men; six companies of which marched in season to join our troops be fore Quebec ; he followed with the other four in May, and after the unlucky affair at Three rivers, by his counsel to general Sullivan at Sorel, he saved the army we had in Canada."* The active and persevering habits of St. Clair, and the mili tary knowledge, as displayed by him during the Canadian cam paign, brought him into high repute, and he was subsequently promoted to the rank of major-general. On all occasions he supported an honorable distinction, and shared largely in the confidence and friendship of the commander-in-chief. The misfortunes attending the early military operations of the northern campaign of 1777, did not fail to bring reproach upon the character of those who conducted it. The loss of Ti conderoga and Fort Independence, and the subsequent retreat of general St. Clair, cast a gloom over the minds of patriotic men, and in their consequences gave rise to the malignant pas sions of the human heart, which were put in motion to depre ciate the worth, impair the influence, and destroy the usefulness of generals Schuyler and St. Clair. It was proclaimed that they were traitors lo their country, and acted in concert with the- enemy; and the ignorant and credulous were led to believe- that they had received an immense treasure in silver balls, fired by Burgoyne into St. Clair's camp, and by his order picked up and transmitted to Schuyler, at Fprt Geerge ! Extravagant as was this tale, it was implicitly believed. At the time ef the evacuation pf Ticcnderoga by St. Clair, which sp much exasperated the people, general Schuyler was absent upon a different duty, and was totally ignorant ofthe fact, though the commanding officer in that district. General St. Clair, in accprdance with the epinipn pf a council of war, or dered the movement on his own-responsibility, and thereby ria- ved the state of New-Yerk from British domination, and his gallant army from capture. Stung with the injustice ofa charge against general Schuyler, for an act for which he alcne was re- sppnsible, he magnanimously wrote the following leiter to the honorable John Jay, on the subject: ?Wilkinson's Memoirs. 160 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. Moses"1, creek, July 25, 1775. Sir — General Schuyler was good enough to read to me a part of a letter he received last night from you. I cannct re- cellect that any pf my pfficers ever asked my reasons for leaving Ticonderoga: but as I have found the measures much decried, I have often expressed myself in this manner: 'That as to myself I was perfectly easy; I was conscious ofthe uprightness and pro priety of my conduct, and despised the vague censure of an un informed populace,' but had no allusion to an order from gene ral Schuyler for my justification, because no such order existed, "The calumny thrown on general Schuyler on account of that matter, has given me great uneasiness. I assure you, sir, there never was any thing more cruel and unjust; for he knew nothing ofthe matter until it was over, more than you did at Kingsten. It was dpne in consequence of a consultation with the other ge neral officers, withcut the possibility pf general Schuyler's con- currence; and had the opinion of that council been contrary to what it was, it would nevertheless have taken place, because I knew it to be impossible to. defend the post with our numbers. "In my. letter to congress from Fort Edward, in which I gave them an account of the retreat, in this paragraph: 'It was my original design to retreat to this place, that I might be betwixt general Burgoyne and the inhabitants, and that the militia might have something in this quarter te cpllect tp. It is now effected, and the militia are epming in, so that I have the mpst sanguine hopes that the progress pf the enemy will be checked, and I may have the satisfaction to experience, that although I have lost a post, I have eventually saved a slate.' "Whether my conjecture is right or not, is uncertain; but had our army been made prisoners, which it certainly would have been, the state of New- York would have been much more expo sed at present. "I proposed to general Schuyler, on my arrival at Fort Ed ward, to have sent a note to the printer, to assure the people he had no part in abandoning what they considered their strong holds; he thought it was not sp proper at that time; but it is no mere than what I pWe tp truth, and to him, to declare, that he was totally unacquainted with the matter; and I shpuld be very glad that this letter, pr any part of it you may think proper to ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 161 communicate, may convince the unbelieving. Simple unbelief is easily and soon convinced, but when malice erenvy eccasicns it, it is needless te attempttconviction. "I am, sir, "Your very humble "and obedient servant, "ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. ^ "Hon. Jphn Jay." > Congress, yielding to personal prejudices, and the popular outcry, produced by the evacuation of that post, passed the fol lowing resolutions: "Resolved, That an inquiry be made into the reasons of the evacuation of Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, and into the conduct of the general officers who were in the northern de partment at the time of the evacuation. ¦ "Resolved,, That major-general St,. Clair, who commanded at Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, forthwith repair to head quarters." i The conduct of congress towards this respectable, able, and faithful servant of the republic, was considered altogether un warrantable, and, in the result, drew great and deserved odium on its- authors. , , After holding St. Clair in cruel suspense for more lhanayear, he was permitted to appear before a general court-martial, which passed the following sentence of acquittal: Quaker-Hill, Sept. 29, 1778. "The court having duly considered the charges against major- general St. Clair and the evidence, are unanimously of opinion, that he is not' g-uiltv of either ofthe charges preferred against him, and do unanimously acquit him of all and every one of them with the highest honor. "B. LINCOLN, major-general and president." From this time general St. Clair continued in the service of his country until the close pf the war. Seon after the establish ment ofthe national government, general St. Clair was appointed governer of the north-west territory. But he did not long enjpy the calm and quiet cf civil life. The repeated successes ef the 162 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. Indians on the western frontier, had emboldened them to repeat and extend their incursions to an alarming degree. "The frontiers were in a most deplorable situation. For their relief congress sanctioned the raising of an additional regiment; and the president was authorised to cause a body of two thou sand men, under the denomination of levies, to be raised for six months, and to appoint a major-general and a brigadier-general, to continue in command as long as he should think their services necessary. St. Clair, who was then governor of the territory north-west of the Ohio, and, as such, officially the negotiator with the adjacent Indians, was appointed commander-in-chief of this new military establishment. Though every exertion was made to recruit and forward the troops, they were not assembled in the neighborhood of Fort Washington until the month of September, nor was the establishment then completed. "The object of the expedition was- to destroy the Indian vil lages on the Miami; to expel the savages from that country; and to connect it with the Ohio by a chain pf ppsts. The regu lars, proceeding northwardly from the Ohio, established, at proper intervals, two forts, one named Hamilton, and the other Jefferson, as places of deposit and security. These were garri soned with a small force; arid the main body ofthe army, about two thousand men, advanced towards the Indian settlements. As they approached the enemy, about sixty militiamen de serted in a body. To prevent the mischiefs likely to result from so bad an example, major Hamtranck was detached, with the first regiment, tp pursue the deserters. The army was reduced by this detachment, to about fourteen hundred effective men; but, nevertheless, proceeded on their march and encamped on elevated ground, about fifteen miles south of the Miami. The Indians commenced an attack cn the militia in front. These instantly fled in disorder, and, rushing into the camp, occasion ed confusion among the regulars. The officers of the latter ex erted themselves to restore order; but with very inconsiderable success. The Indians improved the advantage they had gain ed. They were seldom seen but in the act of springing from one cover to another; for they fired from the ground, or under shelter of the woods. 'Advancing in this manner, close, to the lines of their adversaries, and almost to the mouth of their field- ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 163 pieces, they continued the contest with great firmness and in trepidity. "General St. Clair, though suffering under a painful disease, and unable to mount or dismount a horse without assistance, de7 livered his orders with judgment and perfect self-possession. The troops had not been in service long enough to acquire dis cipline; and the want of it increased the difficulty of reducing them to order after they had been broken. The officers, in their zeal to change the face of affairs, exposed themselves to im minent danger, and fell in great numbers. Attempts were made to retrieve the fortune of the day by the use of the bayonet. Colonel Drake made a successful charge on a part ofthe enemy, and drove them four hundred yards; but they soon rallied. In the mean time general Butler was mortally wounded. Almost all the artillerists were killed, and their guns seized by the ene my. Colonel Drake again charged with the bayonet, and the artillery was recovered. While the Indians were driven back in one point, they kept up their fire from every other with fatal effect. Several corps charged the Indians with partial success, but no general impression was made upon them. "To save the remnant of his >army was all that could be done by St. Clair. After some hours of sharp fighting, a retreat took place. The Indians pursued for about four miles, when their avidity for plunder called them back to the camp to share the spoil. The vanquished troops fled about -thirty miles, to Fort Jefferson. There they met major Hamtranck with the first regi ment; but this additional force would not warrant an attempt to turn about and face the victors. The wounded were left there, and the army retreated to Fort Washington. "The loss in this defeat was great; and particularly so among the officers. Thirty-eight of these were killed on the field; and five hundred and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and pri vates were slain or missing. Twenty-one commissioned officers, and upwards of one hundred privates, were wounded. Among the dead was the gallant general Butler, who had repeatedly distinguished himself in the war ofthe revolution. Several other brave officers, who had successfully fought for the independence of their country, fell on this fatal day. Among the wounded were lieiitenantrcolpnels Gibsen and Drake, majcr Butler, and 164 ANTHONY WAYNE. adjutant Sargent, officers of distinguished merit. Neither the number of the Indians engaged, nor their loss, could be exactly ascertained. The former was supposed to be from one tliou; sand to fifteen hundred, and the latter far short of what was' sus tained by St. Clair's army."* When Washington heard of the destruction cf the brave mert and officers who fell in that battle, he went into a private room with one of his family, and indulged for a few moments his dis tressed feelings. He walked the floor with tfishand pressed to his forehead, and said "Here, id this very room, the night before his departure, I warned St. Clair to beware of surprise! arid yet that brave army surprised and cut to pieces! Butler, ahd a host of ethers slain!" Washington's -feelings were "naturally violent when excitedj but quickly subdued by the firmness with which he practised self-control. And after a few moments, he said, in a calm voice) "St. Clair shall have justice; yes, long, faithful, and meritorious services shall have their claims." When the distressed St. Clair, worn down with age and dis* ease, returned and visited him,'he grasped the hand of Wash ington, which was kindly extended to him, and sobbed over it like a child. Many of the undeserved reproaches which were uttered against him, were silenced by the kind manner in which Washington continued to treat him. • Shortly after this unfortunate expedition, general St. Clair re signed his commission in the army, and retired into private life) and thus remained until the, close of his life, August 31, 1818; ANTHONY WAYNE, Major-General in the American Army. "Anthony Wayne, a major-general in the American army» occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes and patriots of the American revolution. He was born in the year 1745, in Chester county, in the state, then colony, of Pennsylvania. His ?Ramsay's United States. ANTHONY WAYNE. 165 father, who was a respectable farmer, was many years a repre sentative for the county of Chester, in the general assembly, be fore the revolution. His grandfather, Who was distinguished for his attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a captain's com mission under king William, at the battle of the Boyne. An thony Wayne succeeded his father as representative for the cOunty of Chester, in the year 1773, and from his first appear ance in public life, distinguished himself as a firm and decided patriot. He opposed, with much ability, the unjust demands of the mother country, and in ccnnexfon with spme gentlemen pf .distinguished talents, was of material service in preparing the way for the firm and decisive- part which Pennsylvania took in the general contest. "In 1776, he was appointed to the command of a regiment which his character enabled him to raise in a few weeks, in his native county. In the same year he was detached under gene ral Thompson into Canada. In the defeat Which followed, in which general Thompson was made a prisoner, colonel Wayne, though wounded, displayed great gallantry and good conduct, in collecting and bringing off thes cattered and broken bodies of troops. "In the campaign of 1776, he served under general Gates at Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed hy that officer, for both his bravery and skill as an engineer. At the close of that cam paign he was created a brigadier-general. "At the battle of Brandywine he behaved with his usual bra very, and for a long time opposed the progress of the enemy at Chad's ford. In this action, the inferiority of the Americans in numbers, discipline, and arms, gave them little chance of suc cess; but the peculiar situation ofthe public mind was supposed to require a battle to be risked: the ground was bravely dispu ted, and the acticn was npt censidered as decisive. The spirit ofthe trepps was preserved by a belief that the less pf the ene my had equalled their ewn. As it was the intentieu pf the Ame rican cemmander-in-chief to hazard another acticn pn the first faverable eppprtunity that shpuld offer* general Wayne was de tached with his division, to barass the enemy by every means in his power. The British troops were encamped at Tredyffrin, and general Wayne was stationed about three miles in the rear 22 166 ANTHONY WAYNE. of their left wing, near the Paoli tavern, and from the preca* tfon he had taken, he censidered himself secure; but abeut ele ven p'clcck, cn the night of the 20th September, major-general Gray, having driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked him witn fixed bayonets. Wayne, unable to withstand the superier num ber pf assailants, was obliged to retreat; but formed again at a small distance, having lest abput pne hundred and fifty killed and wpunded. A s blame., was attached by seme of the pfficers cf the army to general Wayne, for allewing himself to be surprised in this manner, he demanded a ceurt martial, which, after examin ing the necessary evidence, declared that he had done every thing to be expected from an active, brave, and' vigilant officer; and acquitted him with honor. "A neat marble monument has been recently erected on the battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men who fell on the night of the 20th September, 1777; "Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown^ in which he greatly signalized himself, by his spirited manner of leading his men into action. In this action he had one horse shot under him, and anuther as he was mounting; and at the same instant received slight wcunds in the left fopt and left hand. "In all eouncils ef war, general Wayne was distinguished fot supperting the mest energetic and decisive measures. In the cne previeus tp the battle ef Mpnmputh, he and general Cad wallader were the enly pfficers decidedly in faver pf attacking the British army. The American pfficers are said to have been influenced by the opinipns pf the Europeans. The baron de Steuben, and?generals Lee and Du Pertail, whpse military skill was in high estimation, had warmly opposed an engagement, as top hazardpus.. But general Washington, whose opinion was in favor of an engagement, made such disposition as would he most likely to lead tp it. In that action, sp honorable to the American arms, general Wayne was conspicuous in the ardor of his attack. General Washington, in his leiter to congress, ob serves, 'Were I to conclude my account of this day's transac tions without expressing my obligations to the officers of the ar my in general,! should, do injustice to their merit, and violence to my ewn feelings. They seemed to vie with each other in manifesting their zeal and bravery. The catalogue of those who ANTHONY WAYNE. 167 distinguished themselves is top long to admit of particularizing individuals. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning brigadier- general Wayne, whose good conduct and bravery, throughout the whole action, deserves peculiar commendation.' "Among the many exploits of gallantry and prowess, which shed a lustre on the fame of our revolotionary army, the storm ing ofthe fort at Stony Point has always been considered as one ofthe most brilliant. "To general Wayne, who commanded the light-infantry of the army, the execution of the plan was intrusted. Secrecy was deemed so much more essential to success than numbers, that it was thought unadvisable to add to the force already on the lines. One brigade was ordered to commence its march, so as to reach the scene of action in time to cover the troops engaged in the at tack, in case of an unlooked for disaster; and major Lee, ofthe light-dragoons, who had been eminently useful in obtaining the intelligence which led to the enterprise, -was associated with general Wayne, as far as cavalry 'could be employed in such a service. "The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was fixed on for the as sault; and it being suspected that the garrison would probably be more on their guard towards day, twelve was chosen for the hour. "Stony Point is a commanding hill, projecting far into the Hudson, which washes three-fourths of its base; the remaining fourth is in a great measure covered by a deep marsh, commen- bing near the river on the upper side, and continuing in it be low. Over this marsh there is only one crossing place. But at its junction with the river is a sandy beach, passable at low tide. On the summit of this hill was erected the fort, which was fur nished with a sufficient number of heavy pieces of ordnance. Several breast-works and strong batteries were advanced in front of the principal work, and about half way down the hill, were two rows of abattis. The batteries were calculated to command the beach and the crossing place of the marsh, and to rake and enfilade any column which might be advancing from either of those points towards the fort. In addition to these de fences several vessels of war were stationed in the river, sp as, in a considerable degree, to command the ground at the foot of the hill. 168 ANTHONY WAYNE. "The fort, was garrisoned by about six hundred men, undei the command of lieutenant-colonel Johnson. "At noon of the day preceding the night of the attack, the light-infantry cnmmenced .their march from Sandy beach, distant fourteen miles from Stony Point, and passing through an excessively rugged and mountainous country, arrived about eight in the afternoon at Spring Steel's, one and a half miles from the fort, where the cfisppsitfons for the assault were made. "It was intended te attack the werks pn the right and left flanks at the same instant. The regiment ef Febiger, and.of Meiggs, with majer Hull's detachment, formed the rihht co lumn, and Butler's regiment, with twe ccmpanies under major Murphy, formed the left. One hundred and fifty velunteers, led by lieutenant-cefonel Fleury and major Posey, constituted the van of the right; and one hundred volunteers under major Stuart, composed the van of the left. At half past eleven the two columns moved on to the charge, the van of each with un loaded muskets and fixed bayonets. They were each preceded by a forlorn hope of twenty men, the one commanded by lieu tenant Gibbon,, and the other by lieutenant Knex, whpse duty it was to remeve the abattis and other obstructions, in order to open a passage for the columns which followed close in the rear. "•Proper measures having been taken to secure every indi vidual on the route, who could give intelligence of their ap proach, the Americans reached the marsh undiscovered. But unexpected difficulties having been experienced in surmounting this and other obstructions in the way, the assault did not com mence until twenty minutes after twelve. Both columns then rushed forward under a tremendeus fire ef musketry and grape- shpt. Surmpunting every obstacle, they entered the works at the point of the bayonet, and without haying discharged a single piece, obtained complete possession of the post. "The humanity displayed by the conquerors was not less con spicuous, nor less honorable, than their courage. Not a single individual suffered after resistance had ceased. "AU the troops engaged in this perilous service manifested a degree of ardor and impetuosty which proved them to be capa ble ofthe most difficult enterprises; and all distinguished them selves whose situation enabled them to do so. Colonel Fleury ANTHONY WAYNE. 169 was the first to enter the fort, and strike the British standard. Major Posey mounted the works almost at the same instant, and was the fiist to give the watch-word — "The fort's our own." Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox performed the service allotted to them, with a degree of intrepidity which could not be surpassed. Out of twenty men who constituted the party of the former, se venteen were killed or wounded. "The loss sustained by the garrispn was not considerable. The return made by lierutenant-colonel Johnson represented their dead at only twenty, including one captain, and their wounded at six officers and sixty-eight privates. The return made by general Wayne states their dead at sixty-three, inclu ding two officers. This difference may be accounted for, by sup posing that among those cofonel Jehnspn supposed to be missing, there were many killed. The prisoners amounted to five hun dred and forty- three, among whom were one lieutenant-colonelj four captains, and twenty subaltern officers. The military stores taken in the fort were also considerable. "The loss sustained by the assailants was by no means propor tioned to the apparent danger of the enterprise. The killed and wounded did not exceed one hundred men. General Wayne himself, whp, marched at the head cf Febiger's regi ment in the right cclumn, received a slight weund in the head, which stunned him fer a time, but did npt ccmpel him to leave the column. Being supported by his aids, he entered the fort vrith the regiment. Lieutenant-colonel Hay was also among the wounded."* "The intrepidity, joined with humanity, its noblest companion, displayed on that occasicn by general Wayne and his brave fel- lewers, cannct be top highly esteemed nor too frequently com memorated. "General Orders for the Attack. "The troops will march at o'clock, and move by the right, making a halt at the creek or run, on this side, next Cle ment's; every officer and non-commissioned officer will remain with, and be answerable for every man in his platoon; no sol- * Marshall's Lifa of Washington. 170 ANTHONY WAYNE. dier to be permitted to quit his ranks on any pretext whatever, until a general halt is made, and then to be attended by one of the officers ofthe platoon. "When the head of the troops arrive in the rear of the hill, colonel Febiger will form his regiment into a solid column ofa half platoon in front as fast as they come up. Colonel Meiggs will form next in ccfonel Febiger's rear, and majer Hull in the rear of Meiggs, which will form the right column. "Colonel Butler will form a column on tbe left of Febiger, and major Murphy in the rear. Every officer and soldier will then fix a piece of white paper in the most conspicuous partof his hat or cap, as a mark to distinguish them from the enemy. "At the word marchi colonel Fleury will take charge of one hundred and fifty determined and picked men, properly officered, with arms unloaded, placing their whele dependence cn fixed bayonets, whp will mpve abeut twenty paces in front pf the right column, and enter the sallyport: he is to detach an officer and twenty men a little in front, whpse business will be to secure the sentries, and remcve the abattis and ebstructicns for the cclumn to pass through. The cclumn will folfow clcse in the rear with shouldered muskets, led by cefonel Febiger and general Wayne in person: — when the works are forced, and not before, the vic torious troops, as they enter, Will give the watch-word — with repeated and loud voices, and drive the enemy from their works and guns, which will favcr tbe pass ef the whele troops; shpuld the enemy refuse te surrender, er attempt te make their escape by water er etherwise, effectual means must be used to effect the former and prevent the latter. "Cofonel Butler will meve by the route (2,) preceded by one hundred chesen men with fixed bayonets, properly pfficered, at the distance of twenty yards in front of the column, which will follow under colonel Butler, with shouldered muskets. These hundred will also detach a proper officer and twenty men a lit tle in front, to remove the obstructions; as sopn as they gain the wnrks they will alse give and ccntinue the watch-word, which will prevent confusion and mistake. "If any soldier presume to take his musket from his shoulder, or to fire, or begin the battle, until ordered by his proper officer, he shall be instantly put to death by the officer next to him; for ANTHONY WAYNE. 171 the misconduct of one man is not to put the whole troops in dan ger or disorder, and he he suffered to pass with his life. "After the trepps begin to advance to the wnrks, the strictest silence must be cbserved, and the clpsest attentien paid to the commands ofthe officers. "The general has the fullest confidence ih the bravery and fortitude of the corps he has the happiness to command — the distinguished henpr cpnferred en every officer and soldier who has been drafted into this corps by his excellency general Washington, the credit cf the states they respectively belong to, and their cwn reputatiens, will be such pewerful motives fer each man te distinguish himself, that the genera! cannet have the least dcibt of a glorious victory; and he hereby most solemnly engages to reward the first man that enters the works with five hundred dollars and immediate promotion, to the second four hundred dollars, to the third three hundred dollars, to the fourth two hundred dollars, and to the fifth one hundred dollars; and will represent the cenduct cf every officer and seldier who dis tinguishes himself in this acticn, in the mpst favprable point of view to his excellency, whose greatest pleasure is in rewarding merit. "But sheuld there be any spldier sp tost to every feeling pf hc- npr as to attempt to retreat ene single fopt, pr skulk in the face of danger, the officer next to him is immediately te put him to death, that he may ne fonger disgrace the name of a soldier, or the ccrps pr state he belongs to. "As general Wayne is determined tp share the danger ef the, night — so he wishes to participate in the glory of the day in com mon with his fellow-soldiers."* "Immediately after the surrender of Stony Point, general Wayne transmitted to the commander-in-chief the following la conic letter: — •¦Stony Point, July 16, 1779, 2 o'clock, A. M. Dear General — The fort and garrison, with colonel Johnson, are ours; our officers and men behaved like men determined to be free. 'Yours most sincerely, ANTHONY WAYNE. 'Gen. Washington.' ?Analectic Magazine. 172 ANTHONY WAYNE; "In the campaign of 1781, in which lord Cornwallis and a Bri^ tish army were ebliged to surrender prisoners of war, he bore a conspicuous part. His presence of mind never failed him in the most critical cituaticns. Of this he gave an eminent example on the James river. Having been deceived by seme false hv formatton, into a belief that the British army had passed- the river, leaving but the rear-guard behind, he hastened te attack the slatter before it should also have effected its passage; but on pushing through a morass and wopd, instead of the rear-guard; he found the whele British army drawn Up cfose te him; His situation did npt admit pf a mpment's deliberation; Conceiving" the boldest to be the safest measure, he immediately led his small detachment, not exceeding eight hundred men; tc the chargey and after a short, but very smari and elos.e firing, in which he tost one hundred and eighteen of his men, he succeeded in bring ing off the rest under cover Of the wepd. Lprd Cornwallis sus* pectingthe attack tc be a feint, in order to draw him into an ambuscade, would npt permit his troops to pursue. "The enemy having made a considerable head in Georgia, Wayne was despatched by general Washington to take the com mand of the forces in that state, and, after some sanguinary en gagements, succeeded ih establishing security and order. For his service in that sstate, the legislature presented him with a valuable farrri. k "On the peace which followed shortly after, he retired to prij vate life ; but in 1789, we find him a member of the Pennsylvania convention, and one of those in favor of the present federal con stitution of the United States. "In the year 1792 he was appointed to succeed general St; Clair, who had resigned the command of the army engaged against the Indians on our western frontier. Wayne formed aft encampment at Pittsburg, and such exemplary discipline was in troduced among the new troops, that, on their advance into the Indian country, they appeared like veterans. "The Indians had collected in great numbers, and it was ne cessary not only to rout them, but to occupy their country by a chain'of posts, that should, for the future, check their predatory incursions. Pursuing this regular and systematic mode of ad vance, the autumn of 1793 found general Wayne with his army ANTHONY WAYNE. 173 at a post in the wilderness, called GreenviUe, about six miles in advance of Fort Jefferson, where he determined to encamp for the winter, in order to make the necessary arrangements for opening the campaign to effect early in the following spring. After fortifying his camp, he took possession of the ground on which the Americans had been defeated in 1791, which he for- tiffed alse, and called the work Fort Recovery. Here he pious ly collected, and, with tlie honors of war, interred the bones of the unfortunate, although pliant victims, of the 4th November, 1791. The situation of the army, menacing the Indian villa ges, effectually prevented any attack on the white settlements* Tbe impossibility of procuring the necessary supphes* prevent ed the march of the troops till the summer. On the 8th of Au gust, the army arrived at tbe junction of the rivers Auglaize and Miami ofthe lakes; where they erected works for the pro tection of the stores. About thirty miles from this place the British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which the Indians had assembled their whole force. On the 15th the army again advanced down the Miami, and on the 18th arrived at the Ra pids. On the following day they erected some wprks for the protection of the baggage. The situation of the enemy was re- coanoitered, and they were found posted in a thick wood, in the rear ofthe British fort. On the 20th, the army advanced to the attack. The Miami cevered the right flank, and on the left were the mounted volunteers, commanded by general Todd. After marching about five miles, major Price, who led the ad vance, received so heavy a fire from the Indians, who were sta tioned behind trees, that he was compelled to fall back. The enemy had occupied a wood in the front of the British fort, which, from the quantity of the fallen timber, could net be en tered by the horse. The legion was immediately ordered to advance with trailed, arms, and rouse them from their covert: the cavalry under captain Campbell, were directed to pass be tween the Indians and tbe river, while the volunteers, led by general Scott, made a circuit to turn their flank. So rapid, however, was the charge of the legion, that before the rest of the army could get into action, the enemy were complete^ rou ted, and drive© through the woods for more than two miles, and the troops halted within gun shot of the British fort. All the 23 174 PHILIP SCHUtfLER; Indians' houses and corn fields were destroyed. In this deep sive action, the whole loss of general Wayne's army, in killed and wounded, amounted only to one hundred and seven men. As hostilities continued on the part of the Indians, their whole country was laid waste, aud forts established, which effectually prevented their return. < "The success of this engagement destroyed the enemy's pow er; and in the following year general Wayne concluded a defi nite treaty of peace with them. "A life of peril and glory was terminated in December, 1796. He had shielded his country from the murderous tomahawk of the savages. He had established her boundaries. He had forced her enemies to_sue for her protectien. He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts and potent in arms. What mpre ceuld his patrtotic spirit wish tc see? He died in a hut at Presque Isle, aged abeut fifty-pne years, and was buried on the shore of Lake Erie. "A few years since his benes were taken up by his spn, Isaac Wayne, Esq. and entombed in his native ccunty; and by direc tion pf the Pennsylvania State Spciely cf the Cincinnati, an ele gant menument was erected. It is tc be seen within the ceme- try of St. David's church, situated in Chester county. It is con structed of white marble, of the most correct symmetry and beauty."* PHILIP SCHUYLER, Major-General in tlie American Army. General Schuyler was a native of New- York, a member of one of the most respectable families in that state, and highly merits the character of an intelligent and meritorious officer. As a private gentleman he was dignified and courteous, his manners urbane, and his hospitality unbounded. He was justly considered as ene of the mest distinguished champiens pf liberty) •American Biographical Dictionary. PHILIP SCHUYLER. 175 and his noble mind soared ab.ove despair, even at a period when he experienced injustice from the public, and when darkness and gloom overspread the land. He was able, prompt, and decisive, and his conduct in every branch of duty, marked his active in dustry and rapid execution. He received his commissipn from congress, June I9th, 1776, and was erdered to take ccmmand of the expedition against Canada; but, being taken sick, the command devolved upon ge neral Montgomery. On his recovery, he devcted his time, and, with the assistance ef general St. Clair, used every effort to stay the progress pf a' veteran and numerous army under Burgpyne, Whp had cpmmenced his march frcm Canada, pn the bold at tempt of forming a junction at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton. The duties of general Schuyler now became laborious, intri cate, and complicated. On his arrival at head quarters, he found the army of the north not only too weak for the objects intrusted to it, but also badly supplied with arms, clothes, and provisions. From a spy he obtained information that general Burgoyne had arrived at Quebec, and was to take command of the British force on their contemplated expedition. "A few days removed the doubts which might have existed respecting the intentions of Burgoyne. It was understood that his army was advancing towards the lakes. "General Schuyler was sensible of the danger which threat ened his department, and made every exertion to meet it. He visited in person the different posts, used the utmost activity in obtaining supplies of provisions to enable them to hold out in the event of a siege, and had proceeded to Albany, both for the pur pose of attending to the supplies, and of expediting the march of Nixon's brigade, whose arrival was expected; when he re ceived intelligence from general St. Clair, who was intrusted with the defence of Ticonderoga, that Burgovne had appeared before that place. "In the course ofthe preceding winter, apian for penetrating to the Hudspn from Canada, by the way of the lakes, was com pletely digested, and its most minute parts arranged in the cabi net of St. James. General Burgoyne,, who assisted in forming it, was intrusted with its execution, and was to lead a formidable army against Ticonderoga, as soon as the season would permit. 176 PHILIP SCHUYLER. At the same time a smaller party under colonel St. Leger, com posed of Canadians, new raised Americans, and a few Europeans, aided by a powerful body of Indians, was to march from Oswego, to enter the country by way of the Mohawk, and to join the grand army on the Hudson. "The force assigned for this service w<*s such as the general himself deemed sufficient; and, as it was the favorite plan of the minister, no circumstance was omitted which could give to the numbers employed their utmost possible efficacy. The troops were furnished with every military equipment whieh the service required ; the assisting general officers were of the first reputa tion, and the train of artillery was; perhaps the moot powerful ever annexed to any army not more numerous."* But valor, perseverance, and industry, could avail nothing against such vast numbers as now assailed the nerthern army. Ticonderoga was evacuated, and stores, artillery, and military equipage, to an immense ameunt, fell into the hands ef the enemy. "Knewing the inferierity pf his numbers, and that he cculd pnly hppe te save his army by the rapidity ef his march, gene ral St. Clair reached Charlestown, thirty miles from Ticonde roga, on the night succeeding the evacuation of the fort. "On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on his way to Ticonderoga, general Schuyler was informed of the evacuation of that place; and on the same day, at Saratoga, the total loss of the stores at Skeensborough was alsp repprted to him. From general St. Clair he had heard nothing, and the most serious fears were en tertained for the army commanded by that officer. His force, after being jeined by cnfonel Leng, cpnsisted of about fifteen hun< dred continental troops, and the same number of militia. They were dispirited by defeat, witheut tents, badly armed, and had lest a great part pf their stores and baggage. That part pf the country was generally much alarmed, and even those who were well affected, discovered, as is usual in such circumstances, more inclination to take care of themselves, than to join the army. "In this gloomy state of things, it is impossible that any officer could have used more, diligence or judgment than was displayed .-y Schuyler. *Annual Register. PHILIP SCnUYLER. 177 "After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne found it abso- lutely necessary to suspend, for a time, all further pursuit, and to give his army some refreshment. "In the present state of things, unable even to look the enemy in the face, it was of unspeakable importance to the American general to gain time. This short and unavoidable interval from action, therefore, was seized by Schuyler, whose head quarters were at Fort Edward, and used to the utmost advantage. "The country bet ween Sheensborough and Fort Edward was almost entirely unsettled, covered with thick woods, of a sur face extremely rough, and much intersected with creeks and morasses. As far as Fort Anne, Wood creek was navigable with batteaux; and artillery, military stores, provisions, and heavy baggage, might be transported up it. "The first moments of rest, while Burgoyne was reassembling his forces at Sheensborough, were employed by Schuyler in destroying the navigation of Wood creek, by sinking numerous impediments in its course; and in breaking up the bridges, and otherwise rendering impassable the roads over which the Bri tish army must necessarily march. He was also indefatigable in driving all the live stock out ofthe way, and in bringing from Fort George to Fort Edward, ammunition and other military stores which had been deposited at that place, of which his army was in much need, and which it was essential to bring away before the British could remove their gun-boats and army into the lake, and possess themselves of the fort. "While thus endeavoring to obstruct the march of the enemy, he was not inattentive to the best means of strengthening his own army. Reinforcements of regular troops were earnestly solicited. The militia of New-England and New- York were called for, and all his influence in the surrounding country was exerted to reanimate the people, and to prevent their defection from the American cause. "The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock for which no part ofthe United States was prepared. Neither the strengtl ofthe invading army nor of the garrison had been any where un derstood. The opinion was common, that no re-inforcement» had arrived at Quebec that spring, in which case it was believed that not more than five thousand men could be spared from 178 PHILIP SCHUYLER. the defence of Canada. Those new raised regiments of New-England and New- York, which had been allotted to the northern department, had been reported, and were believed by the commander-in-chief, and by congress, as well as the com munity at large, to contain a much greater number of effectives than they were found actually to comprehend. In addition to these, the officer commanding the garrison was empowered to call to his aid such bodies of militia as he might deem necessary for the defence of his post. A very few days before the place was invested, general Schuyler, from an inspection of the muster- rolls, had stated the garrison to amount to five thousand men, and the supply of provisions to be abundant. When, therefore, it was understood that a place, on the fortifications of which much money and labor had been expended; which was consid ered as the key to the whole western country, and supposed to contain a garrison nearly equal to the invading army, had been abandoned without a siege; that an immense train of artillery, consisting of one hundred and twenty-eight pieces, and all the baggage, military stores, and provisions, had either fallen into the hands of the enemy, or been destroyed ; that the army on its retreat had been attacked, defeated, and dispersed; astonish ment pervaded all ranks of men; and the conduct pfthe pfficers was almcst universally ccndemned. Cpngress directed a re call ef all the generals ef the department, and an inquiry into their cenduct. Through New-England, especially, the most malignant aspersions were cast on them ; and general Scuyler, who, for some unknown cause, had never been viewed with fa vor in that part of the continent, was involved in the common charges of treachery, to which this accumulation of unlooked fpr calamity was very generally attributed by the mass ef the pepple. "On the representattons pf general Washington, the recall of the officers was suspended until he should be of opinton that the state ef things would admit pf such a measure; and cn a very full inquiry afterward made into the cpnduct of the generals, they were acquitted of all blame. "When the resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry into the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, appointing a committee to report on the mode of conducting the inquiry, and, inthe PHILIP SCHUYLER. 179 meanwhile, recalling them and all the brigadiers who bad served in that department, general Washington was requested to name the successor of Schuyler. On his expressing a wish to decline this nomination, and representing tbe inconvenience of remo ving all the general officers, Gates was again directed to repair thither and take the command; and the resolution to recall the brigadiers was suspended, until the commander-in-chief should be of opinion that it might be carried into effect with safety. "Schuyler retained the command until the arrival of Gates, which was about the 21st of August, and continued his exertions to restore the affairs of the department, which had been so much depressed by the losses consequent on the evacuation of Ticon deroga. The officer felt acutely the disgrace of being recalled in this critical and interesting state of the campaign. 'It is,' said he, in a letter to the commander-in-chief, 'matter of extreme chagrin to me to be deprived of the command at a time when, soon, if ever, we shall probably be enabled to face the enemy; when we are on the point of taking ground* where they must attack to a disadvantage, should our force be inadequate to fa cing them in the field; when an opportunity will, in all proba bility, occur, in which I might evince that I am not what con gress have too plainly insinuated by the resolution taking the command from me." "If error be attributed to the evacuation of Ticonderoga, cer tainly no portion of it was committed by Schuyler. His remo val from the command was probably unjust and severe, as the measure respected himself, "t The patriotism and magnanimity displayed by the ex-gene ral, on this occasion, does him high honor. All that could have been effected to impede the progress ef the British army, had been done already. Bridges were broken np, causeways des troyed, trees felled in every direction to retard the cenveyance of stores and artillery. "On Gates' arrival, general Schuyler, without the slightest indication of ill humor, resigned his command, ccmmunicated all the inteUigence he possessed, and put every interesting paper *The Island on the north of the Mohawk. fMarshall's Life of Washington. 180 PHILIP SCHUYLER. into his hands; simply adding, 'I have done all that could be 'done, as far as the means were in my power, to injure the ene my, and to inspire confidence in the soldiers of our own army, and I flatter myself, with some success; but the palm of victory is denied me, and it is left to you, general, to reap the fruits of my labors. I will not fail, however, to second your views; and my devotion to my ccuntry will cause me with alacrity te obey all ypur prders.' He performed his premise, and faithfully did" his duty, till the surrender ef Burgoyne put an end to fhe ccntest. "Another anecdote is recorded to his honpr. General Bur* geyne, dining with general Gates, immediately after the con- ventton pf Saratoga, and hearing general Schuyler named among the pfficers presented te him, thought it necessary to ap&° logize for the destruction of his elegant mansion a few days be fore, by his orders. 'Make no excuses, general,' was the reply; 'I feel myself more than compensated by the pleasure of meeting you at this table.'"* The court of inquiry instituted on the conduct of generals Schuyler and St. Clair, resulted with the highest honor to them. General Schuyler, though npt invested with any distinct com' maud, ccntinued to render impertant services in the military transactions cf New-Yprk, until the close of the war. He was a member of the old congress; and represented the state of New- York in the senate of the United States, when the present government commenced its operations. In 1797 he was again appointed a senator. He died at Albany, November 18th, 1804, in the seventy-third jyear of hi* age. ?Garden's Anecdotes* CHARLES LEE. 181 CHARLES LEE, Major-General in the American Army. General Lee was an original genius, possessing the most brilliant talents, great military prowess, and extensive intelli gence and knowledge of the world. He was born in Wales, his family springing from the same parent stock with the earl Of Leicester:5 He may be properly Called a child of Mars, for he was an of ficer when but eleven years old. His favorite study was the science of war, and his warmest wish was to become distinguish ed in it; but though possessed of a military spirit, he was ardent in the pursuit of general knowledge. He acquired a compe tent skill in Greek and Latin, while his fondness for travelling made him acquainted with the Italian, Spanish, German, and French languages. In 1756, he Came to America, captain ofa company of gre nadiers, and was present at the defeat of general Abercrombie at Ticonderoga, where he received a severe wound.- In 1762, he bore a colonel's commission, and served Under Burgoyne in Portugal, where he greatly distinguished himself, and received the strongest recommendations for his gallantry; but his early attachment to the American colonies, evinced in his writings against the oppressive acts of parliament', lost him the faver ofthe ministry. Despairing of promotion, and despising a life of inactivity, he left his native seil, and entered into the service of his Polish majesty, as one of his aids, with the rank of major- general. His rambling disposition led him to travel all over*Gurope, during the years 1771, 1772, and part of 1773, and his warmth of temper drew him into several rencounters, among which was an affair of honOr with an officer in Italy. The contest was be gun with swords, when the general lost two of his fingers. Re* course was then had to pistols. His adversary was slain, and he was obliged to flee from the country, in order that he might avoid the unpleasant circumstances which might result from this unhappy circumstance; 24 . . L82 CHARLES LEE. General Lee appeared to be influenced by an innate princi ple ef republicanism; an attachment tc these principles was im planted in the cpnstitiitton pf his mind, and he espeused the cause of America as a champion of her emancipation from op pression. Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked for this country, and arrived at New- York on the 10th of November, 1773. On his arrival he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause of liberty, and travelled rapidly through the colonies, animating, both by conversation and his eloquent pen, to a determined and persevering resistance to British tyranny. His enthusiasm in favor pfthe rights pfthe ccfonies was such, that,,after the battle of Lexington, he accepted a major-general'! commission in the American army; though his ambition had pointed out to him the post of commander-in-chief as the object of his wishes. Previous to this, however, he resigned his com mission in the British service, and relinquished his half-pay. This he did in a letter to the British secretary at war, in which he expressed his disapprobation of .tiie oppressive measures of parliament, declaring them to be so absolutely subversive ofthe rights and liberties of every individual subject, so destructive to the whole empire at large, and ultimately so ruinous to his ma jesty's own person, dignity, and family, that he thought himself obliged in conscience, as a citizen, Englishman, and soldier ofa free state, to exert his utmost to defeat them. Immediately upon receiving his appointment, he accompanied general Washington to the camp at Cambridge, where he arri ved July 2d, 1775, and was received with every mark of respect As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that the British general Clinton had left Boston, general Lee was ordered to set forward, io pbserve his manoeuvres, and prepare te meet him in any part ef the ccntinent he might visit. Ne man was better qualified, at this early stage ef the war, to penetrate the designs of the enemy, than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well versed in Eurepean tactics, the scldiers believed him, ef all pther offi cers, the best able te face in the field an experienced British veteran, and lead them cn to victory. New- York was supppsed to be the pbject pfthe enemy, and hither he hastened with all possible expidition. Immediately CHARLES LEE. 183 on bis arrival, Lee look the mpst active and prompt measures to put il in a state of defence. He disarmed all suspected per sons within the reach of his command, and proceeded with such rigor against the tories, as to give alarm at his assumption of military powers. From the tories he exacted a strong oath, and his bold measures carried terror wherever he appeared. Not long after, he was appointed to the command of the south ern department, and in his travels through tbe country, he re ceived every testimony of high respect from the people. Gene ral Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir Peter Parker, with a powerful fleet and army, attempted the reduction of Charleston while he was in command. The fleet anchored within half musket shot of tbe foi t on Sullivan's island, where colonel Moultrie, one ofthe bravest and most intrepid of men, commanded. A tremendous engagement ensued on the 28th of June, 1776, which lasted twelve hours without intermission. The whole British force was completely repulsed, after suffering an irreparable loss. "General Lee and colonel Moultrie received the thanks of congress for their signal bravery and gallantry. "Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of his military glory; the eclat of his name alone appeared to enchant and animate the most desponding heart. 'But here we pause to contemplate the humiliating reverse of human events. He returned to the main army in October; and in marching at the head of a large detach ment through tbe Jerseys, having, from a desire of retaining a separate command delayed his march several days in disobedience of express orders from the commander-in-chief, he was guilty of most culpable negligence in regard to his personal security. He took up his quarters two or three miles from the main body, and lay for the night, December 13th, 1776, in a careless, exposed situation. Information of tbis being communicated to colonel Harcourt, who commanded the British tight-horse, he proceeded immediately to the house, fired into it, and obliged the general to surrender himself a prisoner. They mounted him on a horse in baste, without his cloak or hat, and conveyed him in triumph to New- York."* l«e was treated, while a prisoner, with great severity by the *Taacher's Military Journal. 184 CHARLES LEE, enemy, who affected to consider him as a state prisoner and des serted from the service of his Britannic majesty, and denied the privileges of an American officer. General Washington prompt ly retaliated the treatment received by Lee upon the British office/s in his possession. This state of things existed until the capture of Burgoyne, when a complete change of treatment was, observed towards Lee; and he was shortly afterward exchanged/ The first military act of General Lee, after his exchange, ck* sed his career in the American army. Previous fo the battle qf Monmoth, his character in general was respectable. From the beginning pf the ccntest, his unremitted zeal in the cause of America excited and directed the military- spirit cf the whole continent; and his conversation inculcated the principles of liberty among all ranks of the people. His important services excited the warm gratitude of many ofthe friends of Ainerica. . Hence it is said that a strong party was formed in Congress, and by some discontented pfficers in the army, to raise Lee to the first command: and it has been sug gested by many, that general Lee's conduct at the battle of Mon mouth was intended to effect this plan : for could the odium of the defeat have been at this time thrown on general Washing ton, there is great reason to suppose that he would have been deprived of his command. It is now to be seen hpw general Lee terminated his military career. In the battle pf Monmouth, on the 28th of June, 1778, he commanded the van of the American troops, with orders from the cemmander-in-chief, tc attack the retreating enemy. Instead pf pbeying this order, he conducted in an .unworthy manner, and greatly disconcerted the arrangements of the day. Washing ton, advancing to the field of battle, met him in his disorderly retreat, and accosted him with strong expressions of disappro?' hation. Lee, incapable of brooking even an implied indignity, and unable to restrain the warmth of his resentment, used im proper language in return, and some irritation was excited on both sides. The folfowing letters immediately after passed be* tween Lee and the cpmmander-in-chief: Camp, English town, 1st July, 1778, Sir — From the knowledge that I have of your excellency'* character, I must conclude that npthing but misinformation cf CHARLES LEE. 185 some very stupid, or misrepresentatien of some very wicked persen, could have cccasioned your making use of such very singular expressions as you did, on my coming up to the ground where you had taken post: they implied that I was guilty either of disphedience of orders, want of conduct, or want of courage. Your excellency will, therefore, infinitely oblige me by letting me know pn which pf these three articles ycu ground ypur charge, that I may prepare for my justification; which I have the hap piness to be confident I can do to the army, to the congress, to America, and to the world in general. Your excellency must give me leave te pbserve, that neither yourself, ner thpse abput ypur persen, could, from "your situation, be in the least judges pfthe merits er demerits pf our manoeuvres; and, to speak with a becoming pride, I can assert that to these manoeuvres the suc cess of the day was entirely owing. I can boldly say, that had we remained on the first ground — or had we advanced — or had the retreat been conducted in a manner different from what it was, this whole army, and the interests ef America, weuld have- risked being sacrificed. I ever bad, and I hcpe ever shall have, the greatest respect and veneratien for general Washington; I think him endpwed with many great and good qualities; but in this instance I mustpronpunce, that he has been guilty ef an act of cruel injustice towards a man who had certainly seme preten sions to the regard of every servant of his country; and I think, sir, I have a right to demand some reparation for the injury com mitted; and unless I can obtain it, I must, injustice to myself, when the campaign is closed, which I believe will close the War, retire from a service, at the head of which is placed a man ca pable of offering such injuries; — but at the same time, in justice to you, I must repeat that I, from my soul, believe that it was not a motionpf your pwn breast, but instigated by seme ef thpse dirty earwigs, whp will forever insinuate themselves near perspns in high pffice; for I am really assured that, when general Wash ington acts from himself, ne man in his army will have reasen to complain pf injustice and indecorum. I am, sir, and hcpe ever shall have reasen tp ccntinue, Ypurs, &c. CHARLES LEE. His Excellency General Washington. 186 CHARLES LEE. Head-quarters, English town, %8th June, 1778. Sir — I received your letter, dated through mistake the 1st of July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms highly improper. I am not conscious of having made use of any singular expressions at the time of my meeting you, as you intimate. What I recollect to have said, was dictated by duty and warranted by the occa sion. As sopn as circumstances will admit, you shall have an opportunity, either cf justifying yourself to the army, to congress, to America, and to the world in general, or of convincing them that you are guilty of a breach of orders, and of misbehaviour before the enemy on the 28th instant, in not attacking them as you had been directed, and in making an unnecessary, disorderly and shameful retreat. I am, sir, your most obedient servant, G. WASHINGTON. A court-martial, of which lord Stirling was president, was or dered for his trial, and after a masterly defence by general Lee, found him guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to be sus pended from any command in the army for the term of twelve months. This sentence was shortly afterward confirmed by congress. When promulgated, it was like a mortal wound to the lofty, aspiring spirit of general Lee ; pointing to his dog, he exckumed — "Oh that I was that animal, that I might not call man my brother." He became outrageous, and from that moment he was more open and virulent in his attack on the character of the commander-in-chief, and did not cease in his unwearied endea vors, both in his conversation and writings, to lessen his reputa tion in the estimation of the army and the public. He was an active abettor ef general Cenway in his calumny and abuse of general Washington, and they were believed to be in concert in their vile attempt te supersede his excellency in the supreme cemmand. With the hope ef effecting his nefaricus purpose, he published a pamphlet replete with scurrilous imputations un favorable to the military talents of the commander-in-chief; but this, with his other malignant allegations, was consigned to con tempt. At length colonel Laurens, one of general Washington's aids, unable longer to suffer this gross abuse of his illustrious friend, CHARLES LEE. 187 demanded of Lee that satisfaction which custom has sanctioned as honorable. A rencounter accordingly ensued, and Lee re ceived a wound in his side. Lee now finding himself abandpned by his friends, degraded in the eye ef the public, and despised by the wise and virtuous, retired to his sequestered plantation in Virginia. In this spot, secluded from all society, he lived in a sort of hovel, without glass windows or plastering, or even a decent article of house furni ture; here he amused himself with his bopks and dogs. On Jan uary 10th, 1780, ccngress resolved that majer-general Lee be informed that they have np further eecasion for his services in the army of the United States. In the autumn of 1782, wearied with his forlorn situation and broken spirit, he resorted to Phila delphia, and took lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon seized with a disease of the^ lungs, and after a few day's confine ment, he terminated his mortal course, a martyr to chagrin and disappointment, October 2d, 1782. The last words which he was heard to utter were, "stand by me$ my brave grenadiers." General Lee was rather above the middle size, "plain in his person even to ugliness, and careless in his manners even to a degree of rudeness: hisnpsewas sp remarkably aqueline, that it appeared as a real deformity. His vpice was rough, his garb ordinary, his deportment mprose. He was ambitious of fame,- without the dignity to support it. In private life he sunk into the vulgarity of the clown." His remarkable partiality for dogs was such, that a number of these animals constantly fol lowed in his train, and the ladies complained that he allowed his canine adherents to follow him in the parlor, and not unfre- quently a favorite one might be seen on a chair next his elbow at table. In the year 1776, when our army lay at White Plains, Lee' resided near the road which general Washington frequently passed, and he one day with his aids called and took dinner. After they had departed, Lee said to his aids, "You must look me out other quarters, or I shall have Washington and his pup pies calling till they eat me up." The next day he ordered his- servant to writ with chalk on the door, "No victuals cooked here to-day." The company seeing the hint on the door, pass ed, with a smile at the oddity of the man. "The character of l8§ CHARLES LEE. this persen," says pne whp knew him well, "is full ef absurdities' and qualities ef a mpst extraerdinary nature."* While in Philadelphia, shbrtly before his death, the felfow-' ing ludicrous circumstance tepk place, which created ne small diversien. The late Judge Brackenridge, whcse peignancy cf satire and eccentricity cf character were nearly a match for that of the ge* neral, had dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly irritated Lee's feelings, insomuch that he challenged him to single com bat, which Brackenridge declined in a very eccentric reply. Lee having furnished himself with a horsewhip, determined to chastise him ignominiously on the very first opportunity. Ob serving Brackenridge going down Market street a few days after, he gaVe him chase, and Brackenridge took refuge in a public house, and barricaded the door of the room he entered. A number of persons collected to see the result. Lee damned him, and invited him to come out ahd fight him like a man. Brackenridge replied, that he did not like to be shot at, and made spme pther curious cbservations, which' only increased Lee's irritation, and the mirth of the spectators; Lee, with the most bitter imprecation, ordered him to come out, when he said he would horsewhip him. Brackenridge replied, that he had no pccasicn for a discipline of that kind. The amusing scene lasted some time, until at length Lee,' finding that he could accom plish no other object than calling forth Brackenridge's wit for the amusement of the by-standers, retired; General Lee was master of a most genteel address, but was rude in his manners, and excessively negligent in his appear ance and behaviour. His appetite was so whimsical, that he was every where a most troublesome guest. Two or three dogs usually followed him wherever he went. As an officer he was brave and able, and did much towards disciplining the Ameri can army. With vigorous powers of mind and a brilliant fancy, he was a correct and elegant classical scholar, and he both wrote and spoke his native language with propriety, force, and beauty. His temper Was severe; the history of his Hfe is little else than the history pf disputes, quarrels, and duels, in every *Thacher's Journal. WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 189 pari of the world. He was vindictive, avaricious^ immoral, im- pkrasj and profane. His principles, as would be expected from his character, were most abandoned, and he ridiculed every te net of religion. Two virtues he possessed to an eminent degree, sincerity and veracity. It was notorious that general Lee was a man of 'unbounded personal ambition; and, conscious pf his European education, and pre-eminent military talents and prow ess, he affected a superiority over general Washington, and con stantly aimed at the supreme command, little scrupulous as to the means employed to accomplish his own advancement. The following is an extract from general Lee's will: "I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any church or church-yard, or within a mile of any presby terian or anabaptist meeting-house; for since I have resided in this coun try, I have kept so much bad company while living, that I do not choose to continue it while dead." WILLIAM MOULTRIE, Major-General in the American Army. This gentleman was a citizen of South Carolina, and was a soldier from an early period of his life; At the commencement of the revolution, he was among the foremost to assert the liber ties ef his ccuntry, and braved every danger to redress her wrongs. The scene of his brilliant operations was in South Carolina, and his gallant defence of Sullivan's island crowned him with immortality. "General Leestyledthe post at Sullivan's*island a slaughter pen, denounced its defence, and pronouncing disgrace on the measure should it be persisted in, earnestly requested the presi dent to order it to he evacuated. "Happily for the nation, its destinies were at that period gui ded by that inflexible patriot, John Rutledge, who, confidently relying on Moultrie and his intrepid band, heroically replied to Lee, 'that while a soldier remained alive to defend it, he would 190 WILLIAM MOULTRIE. never give his sanction to such an order.' The result proved the accuracy of his judgment. The folfowing laconic note wasj at the same time, forwarded to colonel Moultrie. 'General Lee wishes you to evacuate the fort. You will not without an order from me. I will sooner cut off my hand than write one.'* "The defence of the pass at Sullivan's island may be compared with many of the splendid achievements which Grecian elo quence has rendered illustrious. Impressed with prejudices as strong as Xerxes ever cherished against Greece, the commanders ofthe British forces approached our coast, not to conciliate} hut to subdue. Exulting in the supposed superiority of their discip line and valor, they spoke in the language of authority, and would listen to no terms short of unconditional submission. "On the other hand, the gallant Moultrie, commanding a corps formidable only by their boldness and resolution, impatiently. awaited their approach. He was not insensible of the insuffi ciency of a work hastily constructed, and in every part incom plete; but considering himself pledged to give a proof to the enemy of American valor, he scorned the disgrace of relinquish ing the fort he had sworn to defend ; and, notwithstanding the advice of the veteran Lee, heroically prepared for action; "Immediately on the approach cf the British fleet te the coast, with the evident intentien pf attacking. Charleston, a fort had been constructed on the west end of Sullivan's island, mounting thirty-two guns, 32's and 18's. Into this fort. Moultrie and his gallant band threw themselves. "Two fifty gun ships pf the enemy, four frigates, several sloops of war and bomb vessels, were brought to the attack, which was commenced about eleven o'clock from one pf the bemb vessels. This was sppn followed by the guns of all the ships. Four of the vessels dropped anchor within a short distance of the fort, and opened their several broadsides. Three others were ordered to take their stations between the end of the island and the city, intending thereby to enfilade the works, as well as to cut off the commuuicati6n with the continent. But in attempting to exe cute this order, they became entangled with each other on the shoals, and one of the frigates, the Acteon, stuck fast. ?Garden's Anecdotes. WILUAM MOULTRIE. 191 "The roar ef artillery upon this little fort was incessant, and enough to appal even those who had been accustomed all their Hves to the dreadful work of a cannonade. But Moultrie, with his brave Carolinians, seemed to regard it only as a symphony of the grand march of independence. They returned the fire with an aim as true and deliberate as though each British ship had been placed as a target for prize shooting, and continued it for several hours, until their ammunition was expended. The cessation which this necessarily occasioned, produced a momen tary joy in tbe assailants, who, in imagination, aheady grasped tbe victory which had been so hotly disputed — but the renewal of the blaze from tbe batteries soon convinced them that the struggle was not yet ended. Another gleam of hope brightened upon the British seamen when, after -a dreadful volley, the flag ot Moultrie was no longer seen to wave defiance. They looked eargerly and anxiously towards the spot where Cbnton, Cornwal lis, and Yaughan, had landed with the troops, expecting every moment to see them mount the parapets in triumph; but no Bri tish troops appeared; and a few moments afterward, the striped flag of the colonies once more proudly unfolded to the breeze— y the staff had been carried away by a shot, and the flag had fallen on the outside of tbe works; a brave sergeant of the Carobna troops, by the name of Jasper, jumped over the wall, seized the flag, and fastened it to a sponge-staff, mounted the merlon, amidst the thunder pf the enemy's guns, and fixed it in a cen- spicupus place. "The ships ef the enemy kept up their fire with unsubdued courage until half-past nine o'clock, when the darkness of the night put a stop to the carnage on both sides; and the ships, with the exception of the Acteon, sopn after slipped their cables, and dropped down about two miles from the scene of action. The terrible slaughter on board the ships bore melancholy testi mony to the bravery of the British seamen. At one time captain Morris, of tbe Bristol, was almost the only man left upon the quarter-deck. He had received several wounds, but gallantly refused to quit the deck, until no longer able to stand, or give an order. This ship had one hundred and eleven killed and wounded. The Experiment lost ninety-nine killed and wounded, and among the latter her commander, captain Scott. The 192 WILLIAM MOULTRIE. Acteon had a lieutenant killed and six men wounded, and the Solebay eight wounded. The whole killed and wounded; two hundred and twenty-five, Sir Peter Parker, and lord William Campbell, who served as a volunteer, were both wounded, The Americans lost only ten killed, and twenty-two wounded. *'It is impossible to give too. much praise to colonel Moultrie and his brave, Carolinians, whp for more than ten hours sustain ed the continued fire pf, upwards pf one hundred guns and bombs; from which, in the course of that time were thrown mpre than ten thousand shot and shell, seven thousand of which were picfe ed up on the next day, 'fOn the next 'day, a few shot were fired from the garrison at the: Acteon, which remained aground, and the crew returned them; but finding it impossible to get her off, they sopn set fire toj and abandoned her, leaving the ccfors flying, the guns lead ed, and all their ammunition and stores. In this perileus sit uation she was boarded by a small party of Americans, who fired three of the guns at their late ewners, while the flames were bursting around them, filled their beats with the stores, secured the flag, and had. just time to save themselves, when she was blown into the air. , }l The fort which had been sc gallantly defended by Meultriej afterward received hys. name."* , "In 1779 he gained a victory over the British, in the battle near Beaufort. In 1780 he was second in command in Charkjfr ton, during the siege. After the city surrendered, he was sent tp Philadelphia. In 1782 he returned, and was repeatedly chosen governpr of the state of South Carolina. "Notwithstanding his labors, his victories, and public services, however zealous, however gtorious, however serviceable, the enemy had the audacity to make choipe of him as a fit object to be gained pver to them by bribery. His talents, his experi ence, and enterprise, would be an invaluable acquisition to the enemy, if it could be employed by the continent; and if it could not be so employed, then the depriving of the Americans of him would be of importance nearly as great; it was, in the eyes ofa selfish, greedy enemy, high)y probable that a man whp had suf- * Allen's American Revolution. THOMAS MIFFLIN. 193 fered so much in his private property would listen to a proposal which would enable him. to go to Jamaica as colonel of a British regiment, the commander of which, lord Charles Montague, po^ litely offered, as a proof of his sincerity, to quit the command, and serve under him. 'No,' replied the indignant Moultrie, 'npt the fee-simple of that valuable island of Jamaica should induce me to jiart with my integrity.' X'This incorruptible patriot died at Charleston, September 27, 1805, in the seventy -sixth year of his age.* THOMAS MIFFLIN, Itfajor-General in the American Army. "Thomas Mifflin, a major-general in the American army during the revolutionary war, and governor of Pennsylvania, was born in the year 1744, of parents who were quakers. His education was intrusted to the care of the Rev. Dr. Smith, with whom he was connected in habits of cordial intimacy and friend ship for more than forty years. Active and zealous, he engaged early in opposition to the measures of the British parliament. He was a member of the first congress, in 1774. He took arms and was among the first officers commissioned on the organiza tion of the continental army, being appointed quartermaster-ge neral, in August 1775. For this offence he was read out of the society of quakers. In 1777, he was very useful in animating the militia, and enkindling the spirit which seemed to have been damped. His sanguine disposition, and bis activity, rendered him insensible to tbe value of that coolness and caution which were essential to the preservation of such an army as was then under the command of general Washington. In 1787, be was a member of the convention wliich framed the constitution of the United States, and his name is affixed to that instrument. In October, 1788, he succeeded Franklin as president of the su preme executive council of Pennsylvania, in which station he ?American Biography. 194 JOHN SULLIVAN. continued till October, 1790. In September, a constitution for this state was formed by a convention, in which he presided, and he was chosen the first governor. In 1794, during (he in- surrectien in Pennsylvania, he employed* to the advantage*of his cpuntry, the extraordinary ppwers pf elocution with which be was endowed. The imperfection of the militia laws: was compensated by his eloquence. He made a circuit through the lower counties, and, at different places, publicly addressed the militia en the crisis in. the affairs ef their country, and through bis animating exhortations the state furnished the quota requi red. He was succeeded in the effice ef gpvernpr by Mr. M'Kean^ at the close of the year 1799, and he died at Lancaster, Janu ary 20, 1800, in the fifty-seventh year ef his age.. He was an active and zealous patriot, who had devoted much of his life to the public service,"* JOHN SULLIVAN, Major-General in the American Army. General Sullivan was a native of New-Hampshire, where he resided before the revelutiun, and attained to a high degree of eminence in the profession cf the law. He was a member of the first cengress, in 1774; but en the commencement of hostili ties, preferring a military commission, he relinquished the fai rest prospects of fortune and fame, and appeared among the most ardent patriots and intrepid warriors. "In 1775, he was appointed a brigadier-general, and imme diately jeined the army at Cambridge, and sepn after obtained the command on Winter Hill. The next year he was ordered to Canada, and, on the death of general Thomas, the command of the army devolved on him. The situation of our army in that quarter was inexpressibly distressing; destitute of clothing, dispirited by defeat and constant fatigue, and a large propor tion of the tioops sick with the small pox. By his great exer- * American Biographical Dictionary. JOHN SULLLIVAN. 195 tions and judicinus management, he meliorated the condition of the army, and obtained general applause. On his retiring from that command, July 12th, 1776, the field officers thus addressed him: 'It is to you, sir, the public are indebted for the preserva tion of their property in Canada. It is to you we owe our safety thus far. Your humanity will call forth the silent tear and the grateful ejaculation of the sick. Your universal impartiality will force the applause of the wearied soldier.' "In Augttst, 1776, he was promoted to the rank of major-ge neral, and soon after was, with major-general lord Stirling, cap tured by the British in the battle on Long-Island. General Sul livan being paroled, was sent by general Howre with a message to eongress, after Which he returned to New^-York. In Septem ber he was exchanged for major-general Prescott. We next find him ih command of the right division of our troops, in the famous battle at Trenton, and he acquitted himself hpnprably pn that ever memerable day. "In August, 1777, witheut the authority pf cpngress, er the commander-in-chief, he planned and executed an expedition against the enemy on Staten-Island. Though the enterprise was Conducted with prudence and success, in part, it was said by some to have been less brilliant than might have been expected under his favorable circumstances; and as that act was deemed a bold assumption pf resppnsi bility, and repprts tobis prejudice being in circulaticn, a cpurt pf inquiry was ordered to investigate his con duct. The result was an honorable acquittal; and congress resolved, that the result, so honorable to general Sullivan, is highly, pleasing to congress, and that the opinion of the court be published, in justification of that injured offider. "In the battles of Brandywine and Germantown, in the au tumn of 1777, general Sullivan commanded a divisicn, and in the latter cenflict his two aids were killed, and his own conduct was soponspicuously brave, that general Washington, in his letter to congress, concludes with encomiums on the gallantry of general Sullivan, and the whole right wing of the army, who acted im mediately under the eye of bis excellency. "In August, 1777, general Sullivan was sele cpmmander ef an expeditipn to the island ef Newpprt, in co-operatien with the French fleet under the ceunt D'Estaing. The marquis de la 196 JPHN SUtLlVANJ Fayette and general Greene velunteered their services on the occasicn. The pbject of the expeditieri was defeated, in conse quence cf the French fleet being driven pff by a vtolent storm. By this unfortunate event} the enemy were encouraged to engage our army in battle, in which they suffered a repulse, and general Sullivan finally effected a safe retreat to the main. This re treat so ably executed, without confusion Or the loss of baggage or stores, increased the military reputatioh of general' Sullivan, and redounds to his honor as a skilful commander;" About this time the following event took place, which is highly characteristic ofthe bravery and daring of the American troops. When the combined forces of France and America were contemplating an attack on Newpert, R. I; general Sulfa van arranged his army to march against the British forces; He dispesed his troops into three divisfons; the first division were ordered to take the west road, the second to take the east ioad, and the third to march in the centre.— The advanced guardj having arrived within three hundred yards of the British fort, commenced throwing up entrenchments. The British then fired a few-scattering shets which passed ever the heads of the Ame ricans without doing any injury. The American guard were placed about thirty rods in advance of the army, and within speaking distance of the guards of the British. And in full view were six hundred horses feeding, which belonged to the British army* which excited the enterprise of a young man by the name of Mason, about twenty years old. This young man, in open day, and in the presence of both armies, conceived the bold de sign of bringing off one of these horses as a prize. In a low piece of ground between both sentinels, were a few scattering alders, by means of which he contrived to pass both lines Undis covered, and made direct for the pasture where the horses, with their saddles on, were feeding, and the bridles slipped about their necks. Among these he selected the best hcrse he could find, which he mounted, and after leaping twe or three fences, entered the road leading to the American army. As he ap proached the British guards, he put spurs to his horse, and pass ed them before they had time to recover from surprise; when he received the fire of both sentinels at the same time. But our hero had the good fortune to escape unhurt, and arrived safe in JOHN SULLIVAN. 197 the American camp with his noble prize: when he halted, and in a dignified manner drew from his holsters both pistols, extend- > ed his arms and discharged them in triumph. But the alarm given by the sentinels, called out both armies, and the panic extended even to the British fleet in the harbor. Alarm guns were fired for many miles up and down the coast and the whele country was filled with the utmpst consternation. The British army paraded in frent pf the fort, expecting an im mediate attack. The trcppers immediately sprang to their hor ses, when to! pne pepr red ceat was seen wandering alone des titute ef a hprse. The" cause cf alarm was spon discovered, and both armies retired. Our hero, after exhibiting his horse in proud tiiumph, for abput twp hpurs, sold him to one of the offi cers for fi7e hundred dollars; a reward worthy of one of the most bold, daring and successful enterprises of which history can boast. "The bloody tragedy acted at Wyoming, in 1778; had deter mined the commander-in-chief, in 1779, to employ a large de tachment from the continental army to penetrate into the heart of the Indian country, to chastise, the hostile tribes and their white associates and adherents, for their cruel aggressions on the defenceless inhabitants. The command of this expedition was committed to major-general Sullivan, with express orders to destroy their settlements, to ruin their crops, and make such thorough devastatiens as to render the ceuntry entirely uninha bitable for the present, and thus to compel the savages to remove to a greater distance from our frontiers. "General Sullivan had under his command several brigadiers, and a well chosen army, to which were attached a number of friendly Indian warriors. With this force he penetrated about ninety miles, through a horrid swampy wilderness, and barren meuntainpus deserts, to Wyeming, pn the Susquehannah river, thence by water to Tioga, and pessessed himself of numerous towns and villages of the savages. "During this hazardous expedition general Sullivan and his army encountered the most complicated obstacles, requiring the greatest fortitude and perseverance to surmount. He explored an extensive tract of country, and strictly executed the severe but necessary orders he had received. A considerable number 26 198 JOHN SULLIVAN. of Indians were slain, seme were captured, their habitations were burnt, and their plantatiens pf cprn and vegetables laid waste in the mest effectual manner. 'Eighteen villages, a num ber ef detached buildings, one hundred and sixty thousand bush els pf cprn, and those fruits and vegetables which ccnduce to the ccmfort and subsistence ef man, were utterly destroyed. Five weeks were unremittingly empleyed in this wprk pf devastation.' "On his return from the expeditton, he and his army received the approbation of congress. It is remarked on this expedition, by the translator of M. Chastelleaux's travels, an Englishman, then resident in the United States, that the instructions given by general Sullivan to his pfficers, the erder pf march he pre scribed to his trppps, and the discipline he had the ability to maintain, would have done honor to the most experienced an cient or modern generals. "At the close of the campaign, of 1779, general Sullivan, in consequence of impaired health, resigned his commission in the army. Congress, in accepting his resignation, passed a resolve, thanking him for his past services. His military talents and bold spirit of enterprise were universally acknowledged. He was fond of display, and his personal appearance and dignified deportment commanded respect. After his resignation, he re sumed his professional pursuits at the bar, and was much distin guished as a statesman, politician, and patriot. He acquired very considerable proficiency in general literature, and an ex tensive knowledge of men and the world. He received from Harvard University a degree of master of arts, and from the University of Dartmouth a degree of doctor of laws. He was one of the convention who formed the state constitution for New- Hampshire, was chosen into the first council, and was after ward elected chief inagistate in that state, and held the office for three years. In September, 1789, he was appointed judge ofthe district court for the district of New-Hampshire, and con tinued in the office till his death, 1795.'* *Thacher's Military Journal. BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 199 BENJAMIN LINCOLN, Major-general in the American Army. *'General Lincoln deserves a high rank in the fraternity of American heroes; He was. born in Hingham, Massachusetts, January 23d, O. S. 1733. His -early educaticn was npt auspi- cipus to his future eminence,! and his vctation was that ofa far mer, till he was more than forty years of age, though he was commisstoned as a magistrate, and elected a representative in the state legislature. In the year 1775, he sustained the effice of lieutenant-cofonel pf militia. In 1776, he was apppinted by the ccuncil cf Massachusetts a brigadier, and scpn after a majpr- general, and he applied himself assidupusly to training and pre paring the militia for actual service in the field, in which he dis played- the military talent which he possessed. In October he marched with a body of militia, and joined the main army at New- York. The commander-in-chief, from a knowledge of his character and merit, recommended him to congress as an ex cellent officer, and in February, 1777; he was by that honorable body created a major-general on the continental establishment. For several months he commanded a division, or detachments in the main army, under Washington, and was in situations which required the exercise of the utmost vigilance and caution, as well as firmness and courage. Having the command of about five hundred men in an exposed situation near Bpund Brook, through the neglect ef his patroles, a large bedy pf the enemy approached within twe hundred yards ef his quarters undisco vered; the general had scarcely time te mpunt and leave the heuse before it was surrounded. He' led pff his trepps, hpw- ever, in the face cf the enemy, and made gppd his retreat, theugh with the less of about sixty men killed and wounded. One of his aids, with the general's baggage and papers, fell into the hands of the enemy, as did also three small pieces of ar- tilleiy, In July, 1777, general. Washington selected him to jcin the nprthern army under the cemmand pf general Gates, to pppose the advance of general Burgoyne. He took his sta tion at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form the New- 200 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. En-land militia as they arrived, and to order their march to the * rear of the British army. He detached colonel Brown with five hundred men, on the 13th of September, to the landingat Lake George, where he succeeded in surprising the enemy, and took possession of two hundred batteaux, liberated one hundred American prisoners, and captured two hundred and, ninety-three ofthe enemy, with the loss of only three killed and five woun ded. This enterprise was of the highest importance, and con tributed essentially to the glorious event which followed. Ha ving detached two other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Independence and Skenesborough, general Lincoln united his remaining force with the army under general Gates, and was the second in command. During the sanguipary conflict on the 7th of October, general Lincoln commanded within our lines, and at one o'clock the next morning, he marched with his division to re lieve the tropps that had been engaged, and to eccupy the bat tle ground, rthe enemy having retreated. While on this duty he had eccasipn tp ride forward some distance, to reconnoitre, and to order some disposition of his own troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected movement, and he approach ed within musket shot before he was aware of his mistake. A whole volley of musketry was instantly discharged at him and his aids, and he received a wound by which the bones of his leg were badly fractured, and he was obliged to be carried off the field. The wcund was a formidable one, and the loss of his limb was for some time apprehended. He was for several months confined at Albany, and it became necessary to remove a considerable portien pf the main bone before he was conveyed to his house at Hinghiam, and under this painful surgical opera- tfon, the writer ef this, being present, witnessed in him a degree of firmness and patience not to be exceeded. 'I have known him,' says colonel Rice, who was a member of his military family? 'during the most painful operation by the surgeon, while by standers were frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain us with some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile from his friends.' His wound continued several years in an ul cerated state, and by the loss of the bone the limb was shortened, which occasioned lameness during the remainder of his life. 'General Lincoln certainly afforded very important assistance BENJAMIN L1NCPLN. 201 in the capture of Burgoyne,though it was his unfortunate let, wiule in active duty, to be disabled before he ceuld participate in the capitulation. Though his reccvery was not complete, he repaired to head quarters in the felfowing August, and was joy fully received by the commander-in-chief, whe well knew how to appreciate his merit. It was from a devefopment ef his esti mable character as a man, and his talent, as a military comman der, that he was designated by congress for the arduous duties of the chief command in the southern department, under innu merable embarrassments. On his arrival at Charleston, Decem ber, 1778, he found that he had to form an army, to provide sup plies, and to arrange the various departments, that he might be able to cope with an enemy consisting of experienced officers and veteran troops. This, it is obvious, required a man of supe rior powers, indefatigable perseverance, and unconquerable en ergy. Had not these been his inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded to the formidable obstacles which opposed his pro gress. About the 28th of December, general Prevost arrived with a fleet, and about three thousand British troops, and took possession of Savannah, after routing a small party of Americans under general Robert Howe. General Lincoln immediately put his troops in motion, and topk ppst on the eastern side of the river, about twenty miles from the. city ; but he was not in force to. commence offensive operations till the 'last of February. In April, with the view ef covering the upper part ef Geprgia, he marched to Augusta; after which Prevest, the British comman der, crossed the river into Carolina, and marched for Charles ton. General Lincoln, therefore, re-crossed the Savannah and followed his route, and on his arrival near the city, the enemy bad retired from before it during the previous night. A detach ment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, un- . der lieutenant-colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone Ferry, where they had erected works for their defence, general Lin coln-reserved to attack them, which he did on the 19th of June. The contest lasted one hour and twenty minutes, in which he lost one hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, and the enemy suffered about an equal loss. Their works were found to he much stronger than had been represented, and eur artillery pro ving too light to annoy them, and the enemy receiving a re-in- fcrcement, cur trppps were pbliged to retire. 202 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. "The next event of importance which occurred with our gen eral was the bold assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the count D'Estaing. General Prevost had again possessed himself of that city, and count D'Estaing arrived with his fleet and ar mament in the beginning of September, 1779. Having landed nearly three thousand French troops, general Lincoln imme diately united about one thousand men to his force. The pros pect of success was highly flattering, but the enemy exerted all their efforts in strengthening their lines, and after the count had summoned the garrison, and while Prevost was about to arrange articles of capitulation, he received a re-inforcement. It was now resolved to attempt the place by a regular siege, but va rious causes occasioned a delay ef several days; and when it commenced, the cannenade and bombardment failed ef produ cing the desired effect, and the short time allcwed the ceuntpn pur coast was quite insufficient for reducing the garrison by reg ular approaches. The commanders concluded, therefore, to make an effort on the works by assault. On the 9th of October, in the morning, the troops were led on by D'Estaing and Lin coln united, while a column led by count Dillon missed their route in the darkness, and failed of the intended co-operation. Amidst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied troops forced the abattis, and planted two standards on the para pets. But being pverppwered at the ppint of attack, they were compelled to retire; the French having seven hundred, the Americans two hundred and forty killed and wounded. The count Pulaski at the head of a body of our horse, was mortally wounded. "General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and . endea vored to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of congress a re-inforcement of regular troops, and additional supplies, which were but partially complied with. In February, 1780, general Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formi dable force in the vicinity, and on the 30th of March encamped in front of the American lines at Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of the enemy, both in sea and land forces, it might be questioned whether prudence or correct judgment would dictate an attempt to defend the city; it will not be sup posed, however, that the determination was formed without the BENJAMIN LINCOLN. , 203 most mature deliberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. Itiswejl known that the general was in continual expectation of an augmentation of strength by re-inforcements. On the 10th of April, the enemy having made some advances, summoned the garrison to an unconditipnal surrender, which was promptly re fused. A heavy and incessant canncnade was sustained en each side till the 11th pf May, when the besiegers had c&mpleted their third parallel line, and having made a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed on. - "It is to be lamented that, with all the judicious and vigorous efforts in his power, general Lincoln was requited only by the frowns pf fortune; whereas, had he been successful in his held enterprise and views, he weuld have been crowned with unfa ding laurels. But,' notwithstanding a series of disappointments and unforeseen occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor was his judgment er merit called in question. He retained his popu larity and the confidence of the army, and was considered as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of soldiers. "In the campaign of 1781, general Lincoln commanded a di vision under Washington, and at the siege of York-Town he had his full share of the honor of that brilliant and auspicious event. Thearticles of capitulation stipulated for the same honor in favor of the surrendering army, as had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to con duct them to the field where their arms were deposited, and re ceived the customary submission. In the general order of the commander-in-chief the day after the capitulation, general Lin- colnwas among the general officers whose services were particu larly mentioned. .In October, 1781, he was chosen by congress secretary of war,' retaining his rank in the army. In this office he continued till October, 1783, when his proffered resignation was accepted by congress. "Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public employ ment, he retired and devoted his attention to his farm; but in 1784 he was chosen one pf the cemmissioners and agents on the part of the state, to make and execute a treaty with the Peneb- scct Indians. When in the year 1786-7, the autherity pf our state government was in a manner prostrated, and the country alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the 204 -. BENJAMIN LINCOLN. guidance of Shays and Day, general Lincoln was appointed by the governor and council to command a detachment ef militia, consisting of four or five thousand men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to a submission to the laws. He marched from Boston on the 30th of January, into the counties of A Worcester; Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had erected their standard. They were embodied in considerable force, and manifested a determined resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a party of militia under general Shepherd. Lincoln, however, conducted with such address and energy, that the insurgents were routed from one town to another, till they were completely dispersed in all directions; and by his wise and prudent measures, the insurrection was happily suppressed with-' out bloodshed, excepting a few individuals who were slain under general Shepherd's command. "He was a member of the convention for ratifying the federal constitution,. and in the summer of 1789 he received from presi dent Washington the appointment of collector of the port of Boston, which office he sustained till, being admonished by the increasing infirmities of age, he requested permission to resign. "Havings after his resignation of the office of collector, pass ed about two years in retirement and in tranquility of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he received a short attack of disease, by which his honorable life was terminated on the 9th of May, 1810, aged seventy -seven years. "The following tribute is on the records of the Society of Cin cinnati. 'At the annual meeting in July, 1810, major-general John Brooks was chosen president of the society, to supply the , place of our venerable and much lamented president, general Benjamin Lincoln, whe had presided ever the seciety from the prganization thereef in 1783, to the 9th ef May, 1810, the day of his decease, with the entire approbatipn pf every member, and the grateful tribute ef his surviving ccmrades, for his happy guidance and affectionate attentions during sp tong a period.' "While at Purysburg, en the Savannah river, a seldier, named Fickling, having been detected in frequent attempts to' desert, was tried and sentenced to be hanged. The general erdered the executicn. The rope broke: a second was procured, which broke alsp. The case was repprted to the general for directions. * BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 205 'Let him tun,' said the general, 'I theugnt he looked like a scape-gallows.' "Major Garden, in his anecdotes of the American revolulionj relates this story, with some addition. It happened, that as Fick- ling was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed accidently on his way to his quarters, which were at some dis tance. When the second rope was procured, the adjutant of the regiment, a stout and heavy man, assayed by every means to break it, but without effect. Fickling was then haltered and again turned off, when, to the astonishment of the by-standersj the rope untwisted, and he fell a second time, uninjured; to the ground. A cry for mercy was now general throughput the ranks, which occasioned majpr Ladspn, aid-de-camp tc general Linceln, to galfop to head-quarters, to make a representation of facts, which wore no Sooner stated, than an immediate pardon was granted, accompanied with an order that he should instan- taneeusly be drummed, with every mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with instant death if he ever sheuld be found attempting to approach it. In the interim, the surgepfi- general had established himself at 'his quarters, in a distant barn, little deubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, and Fick ling quietly resting in his grave. Midnight was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when, hearing the approach ofa footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment the figure of the man who had, in his opinion, been executed, slow-1 ly, and with haggard countenance approaching towards him; 'How! how is this?' exclaimed the doctor; 'whence come you? what do you want with me? were you not hanged this morning?' 'Yes sir,' replied the resuscitated man, 'I am the Wretch you saw going to the gallows, and who was hanged;' 'Keep your distance,' said the doctor, 'approach me not till you say why yoU come here.' 'Simply, sir,' said the supposed spectre, 'to solicit food. I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice While the executioner was doing his office, and the general thought proper to pardon me.' 'If that be the case,' rejpined the doctor, 'eat and be welcome; but I beg of you in future to have a little more consideration, and not intrude so unceremoniously into the apart" ment of one who had every right to suppose you an inhabitant of the tomb."* *Thacher's Military Journal; 9.7 206 1IUQH MERCER; HUGH MERCER, Major-General in the American Army. General Hugh Mercer was a Scctchman by birth, but ai an early age emigrated to Virginia, where he centinued to re-1 side, and became a practising physician. General Wilkinson relates the following interesting incidents in his life: "He served in the campaign of 1755, with general Braddock* and was wounded through the shoulder in the unfortunate action near Fort du Quesne: unable to retreat, he lay dewn under co ver cfa large fallen tree, and in pursuit, an Indian leaped up- pn the covert immediately over him, and after lopking abput a few seccnds for the direction of the fugitives, he sprang off with out observing the wounded man who lay at his feet. So soon as the Indians had killed the wounded, scalped the dead, rifled the baggage, and cleared the field, the unfortunate Mercer, finding himself exceedingly faint and thirsty, from loss of blood, crawled to an adjacent brook, and, after drinking plentifully, found himself so much refreshed that he was able to walk, and commenced his return by the road the army had advanced; but being without subsistence, and more than one hundred miles from any christian settlement, he expected to die of famine, when he observed a rattlesnake on his path, which he killed and contrived to skin, and throwing it over his sound shoulder, he subsisted on it as the claims of nature urged, until he reached Fort Cumberland, on the Potomac." General Mercer, at the commencement of the revolution, heartily engaged in the cause cf Americal liberty. He was one of these gallant spirits whp adhered te the American cause "in times that tried men's seuls," and bravely supperted the com mander-in-chief in his disastrous retreat through tlie Jerseys. He was present at the battle pf Princeton, where he greatly distinguished himself, and was mortally wounded. "On the night of the 1st of January, general Mercer, colonel C. Biddle, and doctor Cochran, spent the evening with geneial St. Clair. Fatigued with the duties of the day, I had laid down htjgh mercer. 207 in the same apartment, and my attentien was attracted by the turn cf their cenversatien, pn the recent prcmptton pf captain William Washington, from a regiment of infantry to a majority of cavalry. General Mercer expressed hisdisapprobation ofthe measure; at which the gentlemen appeared surprised, as it was the reward of acknowledged gallantry, and Mercer, in explana tion, observed, 'We are not engaged in a war of ambition; if it had been so, 1 should never have accepted a commission under a man who had not seen a day's service, (alluding to the great ora tor and distinguished patriot, Patrick Henry;) we serve not for ourselves, but for our country, and every man should be content to fill the place in which he can be most useful. I know Wash- . ington to be a good captain of infantry, but I know not what sort ofa major of horse he may make; and I have seen good captains make indifferent majors; for my own part, my views in this contest are confined to a single object, that is, the success of the cause, and God can witness how cheerfully I would lay down my life to secure it.' 'In general Mercer, we lost a chief who, for education, expe rience, talents, disposition, integrity, and patriotism, was second to no man but the commander-in-chief, and was qualified to fill the highest trusts of the country. The manner in which he was wounded is an evidence of the excess to which the common sol diery are liable in the heat of action, particularly when irritated by the loss of favorite officers. Being obstructed when advan cing by a post and rail fence in front of the orchard, it may be presumed the general dismounted voluntarily, for he was on foot when the troops gave way; in exerting himself to rally them, he was thrown into the rear, and perceiving he cculd npt escape, he turned and surrendered, but was instantly knecked down, and bayonetted thirteen times, when feigning to be dead, one of his murderers exclaimed 'Damn him, he is dead, let us leave him.' After the retreat of the enemy, he was conveyed to the house of Thomas Clark, to whom he gave this account, and lan guished until the 12th, when he expired."* ?Wilkinson's Memoirs, WILLIAM H?ATH, WILLIAM HEATH, Major-General in the American Army. General William Heath descended from an ancient family, and was of the fifth generation of the family whp have inherited the same real estate taken up in a state pf nature. He was born in the year 1737, in Roxbury, Massachusetts, and was from his yputh a cultivator of the seil, of which profession he was pas sionately fond. From his childhood he was remarkably fond of military exer. rises, which passion grew up with him, and as he arrived at years of maturity, led him to procure, and attentively study, every military treatise in the English language, which he could procure. As the dispute between Great Britain and her American colo nies assumed a serious aspect, Heath did not hesitate for a mo ment to declare his sentiments in favor of the rights and liber ties of his fellow countrymen. So early as the year 1770, he commenced addresses to the public, under tbe signature of "A Military Countryman," in which he urged the importance of mili tary discipline, and skill in the use of arms, as the only means under heaven that could save tbe country; and he assiduously applied himself in organizing and disciplining the companies, of militia and minute men. Being ranked among the patriots, and advocates for liberty, he was commissioned, in 1775, by the provincial congress, as a brigadier-general, and in 1776 he received a commission from congress, appointing him a major-general in the army of the United States. Though high in rank, and respectable as an officer of parade and discipline, we look in vain for laurels acquired in the field. Had it been his destiny, however, to encounter the perils of a conflict in the field of battle, no one can say how valorously he would have acted the hero. During the years 1777 and 1778, he was the commanding offi cer of the eastern department, with his head-quarters at Boston. WILLIAM HEATH. 309 Here devolved upon him the arduous and difficult duties of su perintendent of the convention troops captured with Burgoyne at Saratoga, and now quartered at Cambridge. The station re quired the exercise of uncommon firmness and decision of cha racter. And had general Heath been destitute of these charac teristics, he would have been subjected to the grossest imposi tions and indignities, from the haughtiness of the British gene rals, Burgoyne and Phillips, and the perverse temper of their soldiery. He who had vauntingiy declared in the British par liament, that "with five thousand men he would make elbow room from one end of tbe continent to the other," could ill sup port himself under the chagrin and mortification ofa state of cap tivity. His lofty spirit frequently broke forth, but general Heath soon convinced him that be was neither deficient in spi rit, nor ignorant of his duty as a military commander. The following circumstances that occurred during the stay of the British troops at Cambridge, and the letters which passed between the officers, at once show the difficulties which arose in the path of duty prescribed to general Heath, and the prompt ness and vigor with which he met and surmounted them. Soon after the arrival of the British generals at Cambridge, they made an insiduous attempt to retain the chief command over their own troops. In a conversation, general Phillips, turning to general Heath, observed, "Sir, you well know the dis-. position of soldiers, and that they will more or less, in all armies, commit some disorders; suppose you should delegate to general Burgoyne the power of seeing your orders executed?" General Heath promptly replied, "that he knew the disposi tion of soldiers, and also the necessity of order and discipline ; that he was not only willing, but expected that general Bur goyne, and every other officer, would exert themselves to keep them in order. But as to the exercise of his ozvn command, and enforcement of his own orders when necessary, that was a juris diction which general Burgoyne must not expect to exercise while here." For two weeks after his arrival in Boston, general Burgoyne had neglected, upon trifling excuses, to sign his parole in the manner specified in the articles of capitulation. Finding him thus disposed to evade, general Heath addressed him in the ing letter: 210 WILLIAM HEATH. I Head-Quarters, Boston, Nov. 23, 1777. Sir — Two weeks have now elapsed since I had fully expect* ed that the officers would have signed their paroles. They have, during this time, been enjoying, in a great measure, the liberty ofthe limits intended to be assigned to them, without pledging their honor by parole; which is not only contrary to the estab lished custom of nations, but contrary to the eleventh article of the convention. 1 must, therefore, in the most explicit terms, insist that the officers who wish and expect to be permitted on parole, agreably to the convention, do sign it to-morrow. This is so reasonable, that I expect there will be no further hesitancy; and I still assure your excellency, that no endeavors of mine shall be wanting to fulfil the convention, and to treat the officers with politeness and generosity. I am, &.c. (Signed) WM. HEATH. To Lieut. Gen. Burgoyne. November 8th, 1777, congress directed general Heath "to cause to be taken down the name and rank of every commis sioned officer, and the name, size, age, and description of every non-commissioned officer and private, and all other persons com prised in the convention made between lieutenant-general Bur goyne and major-general Gates, on the 16th of October, 1777, and transmit an authentic copy Ihereef to the board of war, in order that if any officer or soldier, or other person as above men tioned, of the said army, shall hereafter be foundin arms against these states, during the present contest, he may be convicted of the offence, and suffer the punishment in such case inflicted by the law cf nations." Upon the foregoing being communicated to general Bur goyne, and he called upon to have said descriptive lists made out accordingly, he wrote our general the following letter: Cambridge, Nov. 20, 1777. Sir — I have received a paper, dated head-quarters, Boston, Nov. 20th, purporting to be founded upon express orders from the honorable continental congress, which paper I return as in admissible, because extending to matters in which the congress have no right of interference. WILLIAM HEATH. 211 A list of the names and rank of every commissioned officer, and the numbers of the non-commissioned officers and soldiers, may be necessary to you, sir, for the purpose of fulfilling the qonvention, in quartering officers, and the regular delivery of provisions, fuel, &c. Such lists shall beprepared at your re quest; but before any other lists can be granted, I must be as sured of the purposes for which they are intended, and the word order musl neither be mentioned or implied. I have the honor to be, &c. (Signed) J. BURGOYNE, Lieut. Gen. To Major-General Heath. To the foregoing, our general wrote an answer as follows: Head- Quarters, Boston, JVotj. 21, 1777. Siu — Yours of yesterday is before me; and altheugh you might at first imagine that the henprable centinental cengress have no right of interference in matters of the conventton, yet I conclude, upon further reflection you must be convinced, that a» that body are the representatives of that pepple whp are tp reap the advantages pr disadvantages pf the cpnvention, and as all continental officers are acting by viitue of their authority, and undet their direction, they assuredly have a right of interference, and to give such orders to their officers as they may think proper for the full completion of the convention, and for the safety and good of the people. I must therefore insist that you furnish me with proper lists of names, and descriptions, for the purposes before mentioned, as soon as may b e. I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the prin ciples of honor, reason and justice, and not to infringe those deli cate principles in others; but my orders for the purposes pf prder and regularity, must be ebeyed by every man and all bedies ef men, placed under my direetton; and- fully determined I am, that offenders shall net pass with impunity. I am, &c. (Signed) W. HEATH. Lieut. Gen. Burgoyne. Gen. Burgoyne had received intimations that a fleet of trans ports wag about to come round for the troops, and that the Juno §12 WULLtAM HEATH; frigate was to wear a flag for his particular accommodation. This he mentioned to general Heath, and wished to know if the frigate might come up into the harbor. General Heath had nd apprehensions of any danger frorti a frigate entering the harbor, but apprehended that some people might think that he was not sufficiently vigilant, in case, he allowed it. He therefore told general Burgoyne that the frigate could not come up into the harbor, and hinted to him the taking one of the most convenient transports in the fleet for the purpose; and he might do as he pleased when he got off. This touched general Burgoyne ex ceedingly, who wrote a letter to general Heath} in which was the following paragraph: "As to yoUr allotment of a ic6nvenient transport for my paS1 sage, if it was from yourself, I am to thank you, sir, for a sort of insult which the most haughty man of office would be ashamed of, in any other country. However, a* I am determined every transaction concerning this convention shall be notorious, and beyond the powers of subterfuge to explain away, I have di rected the frigate, together with the transports, to come round; and it will then be for you, sir, to prohibit the entry of Boston harbor to any ships bearing a flag of truce, and declaring they are sent for the express purpose of conveying to Great Britain any part of the troops of the convention. (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. Maj. Gen. Heath; To which general Heath wrote the following answer: Head-Quarters, Boston, Jan. 5, 1778. Sir — Your excellency's favor of yesterday came duly to hand; and I must confess I was not a little surprised at some ex pressions in it. As by the convention transports only are stipulated to receives the troops, I submit to you, sir, whether a hint (if you were even sure that it came from myself) that you should take a convenient one, rather than introduce a frigate, which is neither expressed or implied in convention, merits those epithets which you are pleased to bestow on me; I have ever aimed to treat you with politeness; and the pligh ted faith and honor of my country require me to pay strict atten- WILLIAM -HEATH; 213 tion to the convention on their part; of course, when transports arrive to receive troops, they wil} enter the harbor; and if you can find by the conventien that a frigate is to enter for the partic ular reception cf yourself, she will not be prohibited. But if it is rather uncommon for ships of war to bear flags of truce, and if consenting to it in the present case should appear to be rather an act of politeness and generosity than otherwise, I leave you to your own reflections whether you have made choice of the most happy expressions to obtain it. (Signed) ' W. HEATH. .Lieut. Gen. Burgoyne. Another serious matter took place about this time. Colonel Henley, who had the immediate ccmmand at Cambridge, a brave and gppd pfficer, but warm and quick in his natural tem per, having crdered seme prisoners who were under guard turn ed out, that he might examine them, one of them treated him, as he judged, with much insolence, upon which he, pricked him with a sword or bayonet. General Burgoyne immediately pre sented a complaint against colonel Henley, charging him with barbarous and wanton conduct, and intentional murder, as ap pears in the following letter: , Cambridge, Jan. 9th, 1778. Sir — A report has been made to me of a disturbance that happened at the barracks op Wednesday afternoon, for which I am much concerned ; and though the provocations from your people, which originally occasioned it, were of the most atro cious nature, I was willing the offender on our part should be properly punished. But colonel Henley, not content with that, made prisoners of eighteen innocent men, and sent them en bpard a guard-ship, as alleged by yeur prder. It is net pnly a duty to my situatton to demand the immediate discharge cf these men, together with a satisfactory apofogy ; but I alsp mean it as an attentien to ypu, sir, that I give yeu an immediate opportunity to disavpw sp unjustifiable a proceeding as cpmmitting men to the werst of prisons upon vague report, caprice,and passion. I am, &c. (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. To which our general returned the follpwing answer: 28 214 WILLIAM HEATH. Head-Quarters, Jan. 10th, 1778. . Sir- — Ycurs pf yestersday's date I received last evening. What provccations you allude to, as having been offered by my troops, I am at a loss to determine. The insults and abuses which they have received, I will venture to 'say, unless I have been most grossly misinformed, are unparalleled; and whether you are willing or unwilling, sir, offenders shall no longer pass with impunity. If it can be made to appear that any of those soldiers sent to the guard-ship by my orders, are innocent, they shall be relea sed from their confinement; but with respect to such as have been guilty of violating my standing orders of the garrison, in stead of disavowing or making any apology for the confinement of such, be assured that I do most explicitly avow it. And as I have before observed to your excellency in a former letter, of which you may be assured, I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the principles of honor, reason, and justice, and not to infringe those delicate principles in others; so also be as sured, sir, that such my orders shall be obeyed by every officer and soldier placed under my direction; and such as have the. hardiness to transgress them, shall abide the consequences. I am, &c. (Signed) • W. HEATH. June 17th, 1778, a British officer was shot by an American sentinel, the officer attempting to pass, contrary to the standing orders. The sentinel was immediately relieved and put under guard, to await a legal trial. Uppn receiving an efficial ac count, general Heath immediately informed major-general Phillips, who was now the senior British pfficer, (Burgoyne having sailed for England,) of the circumstance, and of his de termination to give the offender a fair trial. A few minutes after general Heath had sent his letter, he received the following from general Phillips: Cambridge, June 17, 1778. Murder and death has at length token place. An officer, riding out from the barracks en Prospect Hill, has been shct by an American sentinel. I leave the horrors incident to that bloody disposition, which has joined itself to rebellion in. these WILLIAM HEATH. 215 colonies, to the feelings of all Europe. I do not ask for justice, for I believe every principle of it is fled from this province. I demand liberty to send an officer to Sir Henry Clinton, by way of the head-quarters of general Washington, with my re port of this murder. ^Signed) W. PHILLIPS. The next morning our general wrote the following to general Phillips: Head-Q,uarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. Sir — Were it even certain that the shooting of the officer was an act of the most deliberate and wilful murder, whyshould you charge these free, independent states with a bloody disposi tion" and with rebellion, and this state in particular as void of every principle of justice? Although I ever had, and still have a personal regard for you, and wish in every respect to treat you with the utmost generosity; yet that duty which I owe to the honor and dignity of the United States, will hot allow me to pass unnpticed such expressions as are contained in your letter: and 1 cannot put any other interpretation upon them, than that they are a violent infraction of your parole most sacredly given. I do ccnceive it to be my duty, and I de hereby restrict yeu to the limits pf ypur hpuse, gardens, and yard, and tp the direct road from your quarters to the quarters of the troops of the con vention, on Prospect and Winter Hills; expecting from you a parole, for propriety of conduct within those limits; which, if you refuse, I shall be under the necessity of ordering you to narrower limits, until lean obtain the pleasure of the honorable the congress touching this matter, to whpm I shall transmit ypur letter, and crave their directiens. I am, your obedient servant, (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. Head-Qluarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. Sir — You will imme'diately repair to Cambridge, and wait upon major-general Phillips; present him the letter addressed to him. After he has read the letter, present the parole; if he signs it, well; if he refuses, you will please to inform him, that in cpnsequence cf the indecent, dishonorable, and highly insulting expressions in his letter of yesterday, against the honor and dig- 216 WILLIAM HEATH. nity of the free, sovereign, and independent states of America, and in prejudice pf the, measures and proceedings of the honora ble the congress — as it is my duty, so it is my express orders, that, he, the said major-general Phillips, be restricted to the limits of his hpuse, yards, and gardens, beypnd which he is not to pass, until it be otherwise ordered; and that you immediately plant, and continue by relief, so many sentries as may be ne cessary to prevent. his exceeding those limits. You will give orders that the sentries so planted observe a strict decorum and soldier-like behavior, avoiding insult, and behaving with becom ing dignity. After which you will wait on the next senior ofH-: cer, and acquaint him of general Phillips being confined. I am, sir, yours, &c. (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. Lieut. Ccl. Pollard, Di. A. G. General Phillips continuing to exhibit the same temper, or it rather growing upon him, he was continued in his arrest until the troops of the convention were ordered to be removed to Charlettesville, in Virginia, when general Heath was relieved altogether of his troublesome guests. In June, 1779, general Heath was elected by ccngrees a com- misstoner of the board of war, with a salary of, four thousand dollars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, which he declined, preferring to participate in active operations in the field. In the summer of 1780, he was directed by the commander- in-chief to repair to Rhode-Island, to make arrangements for the reception of the French fleet and army, which were expect ed soon to arrive. In his interview with the count Rocham beau, and other officers ofthe French army and navy, he prof fered his friendly civilities, and contributed all in his power to their comfortable accommodation, which was' productive of a mutual and lasting friendship between them. Indefatigable at tention to duty, in the various stations assigned him, was a prom inent trait in his character. In May, 17S1, general Heath was directed by the commander-in-chief to repair to the New-Eng land states, to represent to their respective executives the dis tressing condition cf our army, and to solicit a speedy supply of provisioiis and clothing, in which he was successful. As senior WILLIAM ALEXANDER. 217 major-general, he was mere than ence commander of the right wing of our army, and during the absence of the commander-in- chief at the siege of York-Town, he was intrusted with the com mand cf the main army, posted at the Highlands and vicinity, to guard the important works on the Hudson. On the 24th of June, 1781, hostilities having ceased between the two armies, general Washington addressed a letter to general Heath, ex pressing his thanks for his meriloripus services, and his great affection and esteem, and on the same day they took their final leave. Such was general Heath's public life. His private one was retired and domestic, amiable, orderly, and industrious, but not remarkable for hospitality, or a liberal- appropriation of property to public purposes. He died at Roxbury, January 24, 1814, aged seventy-seven years.* WILLIAM ALEXANDER, Major-General in tbe American Army. General William Alexander, commonly called lord Stir ling, was a native of the city of New- York. He was considered, by many, as the rightful heir to the title and estate of an earl dom in Scotland, of which country his father was a native ; and although when he went to North Britain in pursuit of this in heritance, he failed of obtaining an acknowledgment of his claim by government; yet, among his friends and acquaintances, he received, by courtesy, the title of lord Stirling. In his youth, his labors were arduous in the pursuit of science, and he disco vered an early fondness for the study ef mathematics and astro nomy, in which he attained great eminence. At the commencement of the revolutionary war, he attached himself to the cause ef America, and entered the field against her enemies. He was a brave, discerning, and intrepid efficer. In the battle en fong Island, August 27th, 1776, he shared ?Thacher's Military Journal. 218 WILLIAM ALEXANDER. largely in the glery and disasters ef the day. The part he bore in that engagement is described as folfows: — "The fire towards Brooklyn gave the first intimation to the American right that the enemy had gained their rear. Lord Stirling, perceiving the danger with which he' was threatened, and that he could only escape it by instantly retreating across the creek by the Yel low Mills, not far from the cove, orders to this effect were im mediately given; and the more effectually to secure the retreat of the main body of the detachment, he determined to attach, in person, a corps of the British under lord Cornwallis, stationed at a house somewhat above the place at which he proposed crossing the creek. About four hundred men were chosen ojit for this purpose ; and the attack was made with great spirit. This small corps was brought up to the charge several times, and lord Stir ling stated that he was on the point of dislodging lord Cornwallis from his post; but the force in his front increasing, and general Grant advancing on his rear, the brave men he commanded were no longer able to oppose the superior numbers which assailed them on every quarter, and those who survived were, with their general, made prisoners of war. This bold and well-judged at tempt, though unsuccessful, was productive of great advanta ges. It £ave an»cpportunity to a large part of the detachment to save themselves by crossing the creek. Immediately after his exchange, lord Stirling joined the army under the immediate command of general Washington. Inthe battle of Germantown, his division, and the brigade of generals Nash and Maxwell, formed the corps of reserve. At the battle of Monmouth, he commanded the left wing of the American army. At an important period of the engagement, he brought up a detachment of artillery, commanded by lieutenant-colonel Carrington, with some field-pieces, which played with great effect on the enemy, who were pressing on to the charge. These pieces, with the aid of several parties of infantry detached for the purpose, effectually put a stop to their advance. The Ame rican artillery maintained their ground with admirable firmness, under a heavy fire from the British field artillery. His attachment to Washington was proved in the latter part of 1777, by transmitting to him an account of the disaffection of general Conway to the commander-in-chief." In the letter he JAMES CLINTON. 219 said, "such wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always think it my duty to detect." He died at Albany, January 15th, 1783, aged fifty-seven years. JAMES CLINTON, Major-general in the American Army. General James Clinton was the forth son of colonel Charles Clinton, and was born in Ulster county, New- York, August 19th, 1736. In common with his brothers, he received an excellent education. In the critical and eventful affairs of nations, when their rights and their interests are invaded, providence, in the plenitude of his beneficence, has generally provided men qualified to raise the standard of resistance, and has infused a redeeming spirit into the community, which enabled it to rise superior to the ca lamities that menaced its liberty and its prosperity. History does not record a more brilliant illustration of this truth than the American revolution. In defiance of the most appalling con siderations, constellations of the most illustrious men pierced the dark and gloomy clouds which enveloped this oppressed people, and shone forth in the councils and the armies of the nation. Their wisdom drew forth the resources, and their energy vindicated the rights of America. They topk their lives in their hands, and liberty pr death was inscribed cn their hearts. Amidst this gallant band, general Clinton stopd deser vedly cpnspicucus. Tc an iron cpnstitution, and an invincible courage, he added great coolness in action and perseverance in effort. The predominant inclination of his mind was to a mili tary life, and by a close attention to the studies connected with it, he prepared hipiself te perform those duties which afterwards devolved uppn him, and thereby established his character as an intrepid and skilful officer. In the war cf 1756, usually, denpminated the French war, Clin ton first encountered the fatigues and dangers cf a military life. 220 JAMES CLINTON. He was a captain under colonel Bradstreet, at the capture of Fort Frontenac, and rendered essential service in that expedition by the capture of a sloop of war on La,ke Ontario. "His company was placed in row-galleys, and favored by a calm, compelled the French vessel to strike, after an obstinate resistance. His designation as captain commandant of the four companies raised" for the protection of the western frontiers of the counties of Orange and Ulster, was a post of great responsi bility and hazard, and demonstrated the confidence of the gov ernment. The safety of a line of settlements, extending at least fifty miles, was intrusted to his vigilance and intrepidity. The ascendency ofthe French over the ruthless savages was always predominant, and the inhabitant of the frontiers was compelled to hold the plough with one hand for his sustenance, Snd to grasp his gun with-the other for his defence; and he was continually in danger of being awakened, in the hour of darkness, by the war-whoop of the savages, to witness the conflagration of his dwelling and the murder of his family. After the termination of the French war, Mr. Clinton mar ried Mary De Witt, and he retired from the camp to enjoy the .repose of domestic life. When the American revolution was on the eve of its com mencement, he was appointed, on the 30th of June, 1775, by the continental congress, colonel of the 3d regiment of New- York forces. On the 25th of October following, he was ap pointed by the provincial congress of New- York, colonel of the regiment of foot, in Ulster county; on the 8th of March, 1776, by the continental congress, colonel of the second battalion of New- York troops; and, on the 9th pf August, 1776, a brigadier1 general in the army of the United States; in which station he continued during the greater part ef the war, having the com mand pf the New-York line, or the troops of that state; and at its close he was constituted a major-general. In 1775, his regiment comppsed part pf the army under gene ral Mpntgomery, which invaded Canada; and he participated in all the fatigues, dangers, and privatiens pf that celebrated* but unfortunate expeditien. *! In October, 1777, he commanded at Fert Clinton, which, together with its neighbor, Fort Montgomeiy, constituted the JAMES CLINTON. 221 defence of the Hudson river, against the ascent of an enemy. His brother, the governor, commanded in chief at both forts. Sir Henry Clinton, with a view to create a diversion in favor of general Burgoyne, moved up the Hudson with an army of four thousand men, and attacked those works, which were very im perfectly fortified, and only defended by five hundred men, com- ppsed principally of militia. After a mest gallant resistance, the forts were carried by storm. General Clinton was the last man who left the works, and. not until he was severely wounded by the thrust of a bayonet, pursued and fired at by the enemy, . and his attending servant killed. He bled profusely, and when he dismounted from bis war-horse, in order to effect his escape from the enemy, who were close on him, it occurred to him that he must either perish on the mountains or be captured, unless he could supply himself with another horse; an animal which some times roamed at large in that wild region.. In this emergency, he took the bridle from his horse and slid down a precipice of one hundred feet to the ravine of the creek which separated the forts, and feeling cautiously his way along its precipitous banks, he reached the mountain" at a distance from the enemy, after having fallen into the stream," the cold water Of which arrested a copious effusion of' blood. The return of light furnished him with the sight of a horse, which conveyed him lo his house, about sixteen miles from the fort, where he arrived about noon, covered with blood, and laboring under a severe fever. In bis helpless condition the British passed up the Hudson, within a few miles of his house, and destroyed the town of Kingston. The cruel ravages and horrible irruptions of the Iroquois, or Six Nations of Indians, on our frontier settlements, rendered it necessary to inflict a terrible chastisement, which would prevent a repetition of their atrocities. An expedition was accordingly planned, and the principal command was committed to general Sullivan, who was to proceed up the Susquehannah with the main body of the army, while general Cbnton wa3 to joim bim by the way of the Mohawk. The Iroquois inhabited, or occasionally occupied, that im mense and fertile region which composes the western parts of New- York and Pennsylvania, and besides their own ravages, from the vicinity of their settlements to the inhabited parti of 29 222 JAMES CLINTON. the United States, they facilitated the inroads of the more re mote Indians. When general Sullivan was on his way to the Indian country, he was joined by general Clinton with upwards of sixteen hundren men. The latter had gone up the Mohawk in batteaux, from Schenectady, and after ascending that river about forty-four miles, he conveyed his batteaux from Canajo- harie to the head pf Otsego lake, pne pf the spurces of the Sus quehanna. Finding the stream pf water in that river too low to float his boats, he erected a dam across the mouth ofthe lake, which soon rose to the altitude of the dam. Having got his bat teaux ready, he opened a passage through the dam for the water to flow. This raised the river so high that he was enabled to embark all his tropps, tp float them dpwn to Tioga, and to join general Sullivan in good season. The Indians collected their strength at Newton, took possesston pf proper ground, and forti fied it with judgment; and pn the 29th ef August, 1779, an at tack was made en them, their wprks were forced, and their con- sternatien was sp great that they abandened all further resis tance; for, as the Americans advanced into their uettlements, they retreated before them witheut throwing any pbstructicns - in their way. The army passed between the Cayuga and Se neca lakes, by Geneva and Canandaigua, and as far-west as the Genesee river, destroying large settlements, and villages, and fields ef cprn, prchards pf fruit-trees, and gardens abounding with esculent vegetables. The progress ef the Indians in agri culture struck the Americans with astonishment. Many of their ears of corn measured twenty-two inches in length. They had horses, cows, and hogs, in abundance. They manufactured salt and sugar, raised the best of apples and peaches, and their dwel lings were large and commodious. The desolation of their set tlements, the destruction of their provisions, and the conflagra tion of their houses, drove them to the British fortresses of Ni agara for subsistence, where living en salt provistons, to which they were unaccustomed, they died in great numbers; and the effect cf this expedition was, to diminish their population, to damp their ardor, to check their arrogance, to restrain their cruelty, and to inflict an irreccverable bfow pn their resources of extensive aggression. For a considerable portion of the war, general Clinton was JAMES CLINTON. 223 stationed at. Albany, where he cpmmanded, in the nnrthern de partment ef the union, a place of high responsibility, and requi ring uncommen vigilance and ccntinual exertien. An incident occurred when en this ccmmand, which strongly illustrates his character. A regiment which had been ordered to march, mu tinied under arms, and peremptorily refused obedience. The general, on being apprised of this, immediately repaired, with his pistols, to the ground; he went up to the head of the regi ment and ordered it to march; a silence ensued, and the order was not complied with^ He then presented a pistol te the breast ef a sergeant, who was the ringleader, and commanded him to proceed, on pain of death ; and so on in succession along the line ; and his ccmmand was, in every instance, obeyedj and the regi ment restored to entire and complete subordination and sub mission. General Clinton was at the siege of York-Town and the cap ture of Cornwallis, where he distinguished himself by his usual intrepidity. His last appearance in arms was on the evacuation of the city of New- York by the British. He then bid the commander-in- chief a final and affectionate adieu, and retired to his ample estates, where he enjoyed that repose which was required by a long period of fatigue and privation. He was, however, frequently called from hi3 retirement, by the unsolicited voice of his fellow citizens, to perform civic du ties. He was appointed a commissioner to adjust the boundary line between Pennsylvania and New- York, which important measure was amicably and successfully accomplished. He was also selected by the legislature for an interesting mission to settle controversies about lands in the west, which also terminated fa vorably. He represented his native county in the assembly and in the convention that adopted the present constitution of the United States, and he was elected, without opposition, a senator fromthe Middle district; all which trusts he executed with per fect integrity, with solid intelligence, and with the full appro bation of his constituents. The temper of general Clinton was mild and affectionate, but when raised by unprovoked or unmerited, injury, he exhibited extraordinary and appalling energy. In battle he was as cool 224 THOMAS CONWAY. and as collected as if sitting by his fire-side. Nature intended bim for a gallant and efficient soldier, when she endowed him with the faculty of entire self-possession in the midst of the great est dangers. He died on the 22d of ^December, 1812, and was interred in the family burial-place in Orange county, and his monumental stone bears the following inscription: "Underneath are interred the remains, of James Clinton, esquire. "He was bern the 9th pf August, 1736; and died the 22d of December, 1812. "His life was principally devpted to the military service of his ceuntry, and he had filled with fidelity and henpr several distinguished civil offices. '^He was an officer in the revclutfonary war, and the war pre ceding; and at the clpse of the former was a major-general in tbe army of the United States. He was a good man and a sin cere patriet, performing, in the mest exemplary manner, all the duties ef life: ahd he died, as he lived, witheut fear, and with out reproach."* THOMAS CONWAY, Major-General in the American Army. "General ThpmAs Cpnway was bprn in Ireland, and went with his parents te France at the age ef six years, and was, from his yeuth, educated to the profession 6f arms. He had obtained considerable reputation as a military officer, and as a man of sound understanding and judgment. He arrived from France with ample recemmendatiens, and ccngress appeinted him a brigadier-general in May, 1777. He sppn became cpnspicuous- ly inimical to genenal Washington, and spught pccasicns to tra duce his character. In this he found suppprt from a facticn ih ccngress, whp were desirous that thecemmander-in-chiefshculd ^American Biographical Dictionary, THPMAS OONWAY. 225 be superseded. The cengress npt tong after elected general Cenway to the effice ef inspector-general to our army, with the rank of major-general, though he had insulted the commander- in-chief, and justified himself in doing so. This gave umbrage to the brigadiers over whom he was promoted, and they remon strated to congress against the proceeding, as implicating their honor and character. Conway, now smarting under the impu tation of having instigated a hostile faction against the illustrious Washington, and being extremely unpopular among the officers in general, and finding his situation did not accord with his feel ings and views, resigned his commission, without having com menced the duties of inspector. He was believed to be an un principled intriguer, and after his resignation, his calumny and detraction of the commander-in-chief, and the army generally, were exercised with unrestrained virulence and outrage. No man was more zealously engaged in the scheme of eleva ting general Gates to the station of commander-in-chief. His vile insinuations and direct assertions in the public newspapers, and in private conversations, relative to the incapacity of \ Wash ington to conduct the operations gf the army, received counte nance from several members ef cengress, whp were induced to declare their want of confidence in him, and tbe affair assumed an aspect threatening the mest disastrous consequences. Con way maintained a correspondence with general Gates on the subject, and in one of his letters he thus expresses himself: "Heaven has been determined to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it." He was himself at that time one of the counsellors against whom he so basely inveighs. Envy and malice ever are attendant on exalt ed genius and merit. But the delusion was of short continuance ; the name of Washington proved unassailable, and the base in trigue of Conway recoiled with bitterness on his own head."* General Cadwallader, of Pennsylvania, indignant at the at tempt to vilify the, character cf Washington, resplved to avenge himself pn the aggresser in persenal ccmbat. The particulars pf this meeting are given in the biography ef general Cadwalla der. General Cenway, cenceiving his wcund to be mprtal, and *Thacher's Military Journal. 226 ETHAN ALLEN. believing death te be near, acted hcnprably in addressing to gene ral Washington, whpm he had perfidieusly slandered, the follow ing letter of apology: ' "Philadelphia, Feb. 23, 1778. "Sir, — I find myself just able to hold my pen during a few minutes, and take this Opportunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written, or said any thing disagreeable to your excellency. My career will soon be ever, therefore, jus tice and truth prompt me te declare my last sentiments. Yeu are, in my eyes, the great and gepd man. May ypu tong enjey the leve, esteem, and veneratien of these states, whese liberties yeu have asserted by your virtues. I am, with the greatest respect, Your Excellency's , Most obedient and humble servant, THS. CONWAY." ETHAN ALLEN, Brigadier-General in the. American Army. General Allen was born in Salisbury, • Connecticut, from whence, while he was yet young, his parents emigrated to Ver mont. By this circumstance he was deprived of the advantages of an early educatien. But, althpugh.he never felt its genial influence, nature had endewed him with strong ppwers pf mind; and when called to take the field, he shewed himself an able leader, and an intrepid seldier. At the cemmencement pf the disturbances in Verment, about the year 1770, he tepk a'mest active part in favcr pf the Green Mountain Beys, as the first settlers were then called, in opposi tion to the government of New- York. Bold, enterprising, and ambitious, he undertook to direct the proceedings of the inhabi tants, ahd wrote several pamphlets to display the supposed- in justice and pppressive designs pf the New-Yerk proceedings. The uncultivated roughness ef his own temper and manners seems to have assisted him in giving a just .description of the ETHAN ALLEN; 227 views and proceedings of speculative land-jobbers. His wri ting produced effects so hostile to the views of the state of New- York, that an act of outlawry was passed against him, and five hundred guineas were offered for his apprehension. But his party was too numerous and faithful to permit him to be distur bed by any apprehensions for his safety. In all the struggles of the day he was successful, and proved a valuable friend to those whose cause he had espoused. • The news of the battle of Lexington determined Allen to en gage en the side pf his cpuntry, and inspired him with the desire ef demonstrating his attachment to liberty by some bold exploit. While in this'state of mind, a plan for taking Ticonderoga and Crown Point by surprise, which was formed by several gentle men in Connecticut, was communicated tp him,-and he readily engaged in the project. Receiving directions from the general assembly of Connecticut, to- raise the Green Mountain Boys and conduct the enterprise, he collected two hundred and thirty of the hardy settlers, and proceeded to Castleton. Here he was unexpectely joined by colonel -Arnold, who had been commis sioned by the Massachusetts committee to raise four hundred men, and effect the same object which was now about to be ac complished. They reached the lake opposite Ticonderoga on the evening of the 9th of May, 1775. With the utmost difficul ty boats were procured, and eighty-three men were landed near the garrison. Arnold now wished to assume the command, to lead on the men, and swore that he would go in himself the first. Allen swore that he should not. The dispute beginning to run high, some of the gentlemen present infeiposed, and it was agreed that both should go in- together, Allen on the right hand, and Arnold on the left. The following is Allen's own account of the affair: — "The first systematical and bloody attempt at Lexington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and fully de termined me to take a part with my country: And while I was wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself in its behalf, di rections were privately sent to me from the then colony, now slate of Connecticut) to raise the Green Mountain Boys, and, if possible, with them to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonde roga. This enterprise I cheerfully undertook; and after first 228 ETHAN ALLEN. guarding all the several passes that led thither, te cut pff all in- telligence between the garriscn and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake opposite Ti conderoga on the evening of the 9th day of May, 1775, with two hundred and thirty valiant Green 'Mountain Bcys; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I landed eighty-three men near the garrison, and sent the boats back for the rear guard, commanded by colo nel Seth Warner; but the day began to dawn, and I found myself necessitated to attack the fort before the rear guard could cross the lake; and as it was viewed hazardeus, I harangued the offi cers and seldiers in the manner following : — ' Friends and fellow- citizens, you have, for a number of years past, been a scourge and terror to arbitrary powers.. Your valor has been famed abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me. from the general assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now proppse to advance.be- fore you, and in person cpnduct you through the wicket-gate-j for we must this morning either quit our pretentions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes; and inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest of men dare .undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to his' will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelocks.' "The men being at this time drawn up -in three ranks, each poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right, and at the head of the centre file, marched them immediately to the wicket-gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who in stantly snapped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards him, and he retreated through the covered way into the parade within the garrison, gave a halloo, and ran under a bomb-proof. My party, who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a manner as to face the barracks, which faced each other. The garrison being asleep, except the' sentries, we gave three huzzas, which greatly surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword, but in an instant I altered the design and fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side of the head; upon which he dropped his gun and asked quarters, which I readily granted him; and de- ETHAN ALLEN. 229 manded the place where the commanding officer kept. He showed me a pair of stairs in the front of the garrison, which led up to a second story in said barracks, to which I immediately repaired, and ordered the commander, captain Delaplace, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison; at which time the captain came immediately to the door with his breeches in his hand, when I ordered him to deliver to me the fort instantly; he asked me by what authprity I demanded it. I anwered him, 'In the name ef the Great Jehevah and the ccntinental congress.' The authority of congress being very little known at that time, he began to speak again; but I inter rupted him, and with my drawn sword near his head, again de manded an Immediate surrender of the garrison; with which he then cpmplied, and crdered his men to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time, some of my officers had given orders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one-third of the garrison imprisoned, which censisted pf said commander, a lieutenant Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen inch mortar, and a num ber of swivels. This surprise was carried into execution in the gray ef the morning on the 10th of May , 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning with a superior lustre; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and wished success to congress, and the liberty and freedom of America. Happy it was for me, at that time, that the future pages ef the bepk pf fate, which afterwards un folded a miserable scene ef twp years and eight menths' impri- senment, were hid from my view." This brilliant expfoit secured tc Allen a high reputatton for intrepid vafor throughput the ceuntry. In the fall ef 1775, he was sent twice into Canada to pbserve the dispesittons pf the peeple, and attach them, if pcssible, te the American cause. During cne ef these excursions, he made a rash and remantic attempt upen Mpntreal. He had been sent by general Ment- gpmery, with a guard pf eighty men, on a tour into the villages in the neighberhppd. On his return he was met by a majer Brown, who had been on the same business. It was agreed be- 30 r 230 ETHAN ALLEN. tween them te make a descent upen the island pf Mpntreal. Al len was te cress the river, and land with his party a little nprth pfthe city; while Brown was to pass pver a little to the seuth, with near twp hundred men. Allen crossed the river in the night, as had been proposed; hut by spme means, Brown and his party failed. Instead ef returning, Allen, with great rash ness, concluded to maintain his ground. General Carlton soon received intelligence of Allen's situation and the smallness ef his numbers, and marched cut against him with abput forty regulars, and a ccnsiderable number pf English, Canadians, and Indians, amounting, in the whole, to some hundreds. Allen attempted to defend himself, but it was to no purpose. Being deserted by several of his men, and having fifteen killed, he, with thirty- eight of his men, were taken prisoners. He was now kept for some time in irons, and was treated with the most rigorous and unsparing cruelty. From his narrative, it appears that the irons placed on him were uncommonly heavy, and so fastened, that he could not lie down otherwise than on his back. A chest was his seat by day and his bed by night. Soon after his capture, still loaded with irons, he was sent te England, being assured that the halter weuld be the reward pf his rebel- lien when he arrived there. Finding that threats and menaces had nc effect upen him, high ccmmand and a large tract cf the ccunquered country, were afterwards offered him, on condition that he would join the British. To the last he replied, "that he viewed their offer of conquered United States land to be simi lar to that which the devil offered to Jesus Christ: to give him all the kingdoms of the world, if he would fall down and wor ship him, when, at the same time, the poor devil had not one foot of land upon earth.' After his arrival, about the middle of December, he was lodged, for a short time, in Pendennis castle, near Falmouth. On the 8th of January, 1776, he was put on board a frigate, and by a circuitous route again carried to Hallifax. Here he remain ed closely confined in the jail from June to October, when he was removed to New-Yerk. During the passage tp this place, captain Burke, a daring prisener, preppsed to kill the British captain, and seize the frigate; but Allen refused to engage in the plot, and was probably the means of saving the life of cap- ETHAN ALLEN. 231 tain Smith, who had treated him with kindness. He was kept at New- York about a year and a half, semetimes imprisoned, and semetimes permitted te be en parole. While here, he had an pppprtunity to pbserve the inhuman manner in which the American prispners were Ireated. In ene ef the churches in which they were crowded, he saw seven lying dead at one time, and others biting pieces of chips from hunger. He calculated, that of the prisoners taken on Long Island and at Fort Washing ton, near two thpusand perished by hunger and celd, pr in conse- quence ef diseases occasicned by the impurity cf their prispns. Cpfonel Allen was exchanged for a ccfonel Campbell, May 6th, 1778, and after having repaired to head-quarters, andeffer- ed his services to general Washingten, in case his health should be restored, he returned tp Vermpnt. His arrival pn the even ing ef the last day ef May, gave his friends great jey, and it was annpunced by the discharge cf canncn. As an expressien of con- fidence in his patriotism and military talents, he was very sppn apppinted to the ccmmand cf the state militia. His intrepidity, however, was never again brought tp the test, theugh his patri- ptism was tried by an unsuccessful attempt cf the British to bribe him to attempt a unien pf Vermont with Canada. He died sud denly en his estate, February 13th, 1789. General Allen was brave, humane, and generous; yet his con duct does, npt seem te have been much influenced by censidera- tions respecting that holy and merciful Being, whose character and whose commands are disclosed to us in the scriptures. His notions with regard to religion were loose and absurd. He be lieved with Pythagoras, the heathen philosopher, that man, after death, would transmigrate into beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, &c. and often informed his friends that he himself expected to live again in the form of a large white horse. 232 JOHN CADWALABEU. JOHN CADWALADER, Brigadier-General in the American Army. This zealous and inflexible friend of America was born ia Philadelphia, 1742. He was distinguished for his intrepidity as a soldier, in upholding the cause of freedom during the most discouraging periods of danger and misfortune that America ever beheld.- At the dawn of the revolu tipn, he ccmmanded a cerps pf vol- unteers, designated as "the silk stocking company," ef which nearly all the members were appointed to ccmmissipns in the line ef the army. He afterwards was appointed colonel of one of the city battalions, and being thence promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, was intrusted with the command of the Penn sylvania troops, in the important operations of the winter cam paign of 1776 and 1777. He acted with this command as a volunteer, in the actions pf Princeton, Brandywine, German- town, and Mcnmputh, and pn other eccasiens, and received the thanks cf general Washingten, whpse cenfidence and regard he uniformly enjoyed. _ The merits and services ef general Cadwalader, induced. cengress, early in 1778, tp cpmpliment him, by a unanimeus vote, with the apppintment ef general ef cavalry; which appointment; he declined, under an impressicn that he ceuld be mpre useful to his ccuntry in the sphere in which he had been acting. He was strongly and ardently attached to general Washing- ten, and his celebrated duel with general Cenway, arose from his spirited epppsitfon to the intrigues pf that officer to undermine the standing ef the commander-in-chief. The following anec- dpte pf the renccunter is related in the "Anecdctes ef the Revo lutionary War." "The particulars of this duel, priginating in the henorable feelings of general Cadwalader, indignant at the attempt of his adversary to injure the reputatien pf the cemmander-in-chief, by representing him as unqualified for the exalted statien which he held, appears wprthy of record. Nor ought the ccplness ob served pn the occasion by the parries to be forgotten, as it evin- JOHN CADWALADER. 233 ees very strongly, that though imperious circumstances may ccm- pel men pf nice feeling te meet, the dictates cf lmnpr may be satisfied witheut the smallest deviation from the mest rigid rules pf ppliteness. When arrived at the appeinted rendezvous, ge neral Cadwalader acccmpanied by general Dickenscn, pf Penn sylvania, general Cenway by colonel Morgan, of Princeton, it was agreed upon by the seconds, that on the word being given, the principals might fire in thuir own time, and at discretion, either by an off-hand shot, or by taking a deliberate aim. The parties having declared themselves ready, the word was given to proceed. General Conway immediately raised his pistol, and fired with great composure, but without effect. General Cadwalader was about do so, when a sudden gust of wind oc curring, he kept his pistol down and remained tranquil. 'Why do you not fire, general Cadwalader?' exclaimed Conway. 'Because,' replied general Cadwalader, 'we came not here to trifle. Let the gale pass and I shall act my p;»rt.' 'You shall have a fair chance of performing it well,' rejoined Conway, and immediately presented a full front. General Cadwalader fired, and hi3 ball entering the mouth of his antagonist, he fell directly forward on his face. Colonel Morgan running to his assistance, found the blood spouting from behind his neck; and lifting up the club of his hair, saw the ball drop from it.. It had passed through his head, greatly to the derangement of his tongue and teeth, but did npt inflict a mortal wound. As sopn as the blepd was suffi ciently washed away te alfow him to speak, general Conway, turning to his opponent, said, good humoredly, 'Ypu fire, gene ral, with much deliberaticn, and certainly with a great deal ef effect.' The parties then parted, free from all resentment." This patriotic and exemplary man died February 10th, 1786. In his private life he exemplified all the virtues that ennoble the character of man. His ccnduct was npt marked with the least degree ef malevelence cr party spirit. Those whe hpnestly dif fered from him in ppinion, he always treated with singular ten derness. In sociability and cheerfulness cf temper, honesty and goodness of heart, independence ef spirit, and warmth nf friend ship, he had np superier. Never did any man die mere lament ed by his friends and neighbers; tp his family and relatiens his death was a Btroke still mere severe. 234 CEORGE CLINTON. GEORGE CLINTON, Brigadier-General in the American Army. Among the many distinguished patriots, of the revolutipn who have become tenants of the tomb, the services of none will be more readily acknowledged than thpse ef the late venerable Geprge Clinton. He was descended from a respectable and worthy family, and was born on the 26th of July, 1739, in fhe county of Ulster, in the colony of New-York. His father, cclo- nel Charles Clinton, was an emigrant from Ireland. In early yeuth he was put to the study ef law, but tong before he became a man, he rallied under the standard ef his ccuntry, and assisted Amherst in the reducticn pf Mpntreal. In this campaign he npbly distinguished himself in a cpnflict cn the nprthern waters, when, with four gun-bpats, after a severe en gagement, he captured a French brig cf eighteen guns. This war being ended, he returned again te his favprite pur suit, the science c< the law, and placed himself under the tuition of chief justice Smith, where he became a student with Gou verneur Morris, between whem and himself a difference cf po litical opinion, in after life, wrought a separation. He had scarcely commenced as a practitioner, when, in 1764, the storm appeared to gather around his native land, and the ty rannic disposition of the mother country was manifested. Fore seeing the evil at hand, with a mind glowing with patriotism, ccrrect and quick in its perceptions, and, like time, steady and fixed te the achievement cf its objects, he abandoned the advan tages of the profession to which he had been educated, and be came a member of the colonial legislature, where he ever dis played a love of liberty, an inflexible attachment to the rights of his country, and that undaunted firmness and integrity, without which this nation never would have been free; and which has ever formed the most brilliant, though by no means the most useful trait of his character. He was chief of the Whig party. In this situation he remained, contending against the doctrine of British supremacy ; and with great strength of argument and. force of popularity, supporting the rights of America, till the GEORGE CLINTON. 235 crisis arrived, when, in 1775, he was returned a member of that patriotic congress who laid the foundation of our independence. While in this venerable body, it may be said of him with truth, that "he strengthened the feeble knees, and the hands that hang down." On the 4th of July, 1776, he was present at the glo rious declaration of independence, and assented with his usual energy and decision to that measure; but having been appoint ed a brigadier-general in the militia, and also in the continental army, the exigencies of his country at that trying hour rendered it necessary for him to take the field in person, and he therefore retired from congress immediately after his vote was given, and before the instrument was transcribed for the signatures of the members; for which reason his name does not appear among the signers. A constitution having been adopted for the state of New- York in April, 1777, he was chosen, at the first election under it, both governor and lieutenant-governor, and was continued in the former office for eighteen years. In this year he was also appointed by congress to command the post of the Highlands, a most important and arduous duty. The design of the enemy was to separate New-England from the rest of the nation, and by preventing succor from the east, to lay waste the middle and southern country. Had this plan been carried into ef feci, American liberty would probably have expired in its cradle. It was then that his vast and comprehensive genius viewed in its true light the magnitude of the evil contemplated; and he roused to a degree of energy unknown and unexpected. It was then that Burgoyne was, with the best appointed army ever seen in America, attempting to force his way to Albany, and Howe attempting to effect a junction with him at that im portant place. The crisis was all-important, and Clinton did not hesitate — he determined at all hazards to save his country. With this view when Howe attempted to ascend the river, Clinton from every height and angle assailed him. His gallant defence of Fort Montgomery, with a handful of men, against a powerful force commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, was equally henorable to his intrepidity and his skill. The following are the particulars of his gallant conduct at the storming of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, in October, 1777. 236 GEORGE CLINTON. "When the British reinforcements under general Robertson, ampunting to nearly twp thpusand men, arrived from Europe, Sir Henry Clinton used the greatest exertion, and availed him self of every favorable circumstance, to put these troops into immediate operation. Many were sent to suitable vessels, and immediately united in the expedition, which consisted of about four thousand men, against the forts on the Highlands. Having made the necessary arrangements, he moved up the North river, and landed pn the 4th, of October, at Tarry-town, purposely to impress general Putnam, under whose command a thousand continental troops had been left, with a belief that his post at Peekskill was the object cf attack. At eight p'cfock at night, the general communicated the intelligence to governor Clinton of the arrival of the British, and at the same time ex pressed his opinion respecting their destination. The designs of Sir Henry were immediately perceived by the governor, who prorogued the assembly on the following day, and arrived that night at Fort Montgomery. The British troops, in the meantime, were secretly conveyed across the river, aud assaults upon our forts were meditated to be made pn the 6th, which were accor- dingly put in executien, by attacking the American advanced party at Dcpdle-town, about twp miles and a half from Fort Montgomery. The Americans received the fire of the British, and retreated to Fort Clinton. The enemy then advanced to the west side of the mountain, in order to attack our troops in the rear. Governor Clinton immediately ordered out a detach ment of one hundred men towards Doodle-town, and another of sixty, with a brass field-piece, to an eligible spot on another road. They were both soon attacked by the whole force of the enemy and compelled to pass back. It has been remarked that the ta lents, as well as the temper of a commander, are put to as severe a test in conducting a retreat as in achieving a victory. The truth of this governer Clinton experienced, when, with great bravery and the mcst perfect crder, he retired till he reached the fort. He tost np time in placing his men in the best manner that circumstances weuld admit. His ppst, hpwever, as well as Fert Clinton, in a few minutes were invaded en every side. In the midst pf this disheartening and appalling disaster, he was summoned when the sun was only an hour high, to surrender in GEORGE CLINTON. 237 five minutes; but his gallant spirit sternly refused to obey the call. In a short time after, the British made a general and most desperate attack on bpth ppsts, which was received by the Americans with undismayed ceurage and resistance. Officers and men, militia and ceritinentals, all behaved alike brave. An incessant fire was kept up till dusk, when cur troops were overpowered by numbers, who forced the lines and redoubts at both posts. Many of the Americans fought their way out, oth ers accidentally mixed with the enemy, and thus made their escape effectually ; for, besides being favored by the night, they knew the varieus avenues in the meuntains. The gevernor, as well as his brother,, general James Clinten, whp was wpunded, were net taken."* Howe, driven to madness by the manly resistance of his foes, inconsiderately landed and marched into the country, and im mortalized his name by burning Kingston and other villages. But the great object of the expedition, the forming a junction with Burgoyne, was happily defeated by the capture of that general, and America was free. From this moment, for eighteen years in succession, he re mained the governor of New- York, re-elected to that important station by a generous and wise people, who knew how to appre ciate his wisdom and virtue, and their own blessings. During this period, he was president of the convention of that state, which ratified the national constitution; when, as in all other situations, he undeviatingly manifested an ardent attachment to civil liberty. After the life of labor and usefulness here faintly portrayed ; worn with the fatigues of duty, and with a disease which then afflicted him, but which had been removed for the last eight years of his life; having led his native state to eminent, if not unrivalled importance and prosperity, he retired from public life, with a mind resolved not to mingle again with governmen tal concerns, and to taste those sweets which result from reflect ing on a life well spent. In 1805 he was chosen vice-president of the United States, by the same number of VPtes that elevated Mr. Jefferspn to the *Amsrican Biographical Dictionary. 31 238 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. presidency; in which statien he discharged his duties with un remitted attention; presiding with great dignity in the senate, and evincing, by his votes and opinions, his decided hostility to constructive authority, and to innovattons pn the established principles ef republican, government. He died at Washington, when attending to his- duties as vice- president, and was interred in that city, where a mpnumentwas erected by the filial piety ef his children, with this inscriptien, written by his nephew: "Tp the memery pf Geprge Clinton. He was bern in the state pf New-Yprk, pn the 26th pf July, 1739, and died in the city of Washington, on the 20th April, 1812, in the 73d year of his age. "He was a soldier and a statesman of the revolution. Emi nent in council, and distinguished in war, he filled, with unexam pled usefulness, purity, and ability, among many other offices, those of governor in his native state, and of vice-president of the United States. While he lived, his virtue, wisdom, and valor, were the pride, the ornament, and security of his country; and when he died, he left an illustrious example pf a well spent life, wprthy pf all imitatton." WILLIAM DAVIDSON, Brigadier-General in the American Army. William Davidspn, lieutenant-colonel commandant in the North Carolina line, and brigadier-general in the militia of that state, was the youngest son of George Davidson, who removed with his family from Lancaster county, in Pennsylvania, in the year 1750, to Rowan county, in Nprth Carolina. William was born in the year 1746, and was educated in a plain country manner, at an academy in Charlotte, the county town of Mecklenburgh, which adjoins Rowan. Like most of the enterprising youth of America, Davidson re paired to the standard of his country, on the commencement of the revolutionary war, and was appointed a major in one of the first Tegiments formed by the government of North Carolina. WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 239 In this character he marched with the North Carolina line, under brigadier-general Nash, to the main army in New-Jersey, where he served under the commander-in-chief, until the North Carolina line was detached, in November, 1779, to re-inforce the southern army, commanded by major-general Lincoln. Pre vious to this event, major Davidson was promoted to the com mand of a regiment, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel com mandant. As he passed through North Carolina, Davidson obtained per mission to visit his family, from which he had been absent nearly three years. The delay produced by this visit saved him from captivity, as he found Charleston so closely invested when he arrived in its neighborhood, as to prevent his re-junction with his regiment. * Soon after the surrender of general Lincoln and his army, the loyalists of North Carolina, not doubting the complete success of the royal forces, began to embody themselves for the pur- pese ef cpntributing their active aid in the field to the subse quent eperatiens pf the British general. They were numerous in the western parts ef the state, and especially in the highland settlement abcut Crpss creek. Lieutenant-colonel Davidson put himself at the head of some of our militia, called out to quell the expected insurrecticn. He proceeded with viger in the ex- ecutionof his trust; and, in an engagement with a party of loy alists nearCalson's mill, he was severely wounded; the ball en tered the umbilical region, and passed through his body near the kidneys. This confined him for eight weeks ; when recover ing, he instantly took the field, having been recently appointed brigadier-general by the government of North, Carolina, in the place of brigadier-general Rutherford, taken at the battle of Camden. He exerted himself, in conjunction with general Sumner and colonel Davie, to interrupt the progress of lord Cornwallis in his advance towards Salisbury, and throughout that eventful period, gave unceasing evidences of his zeal and firmness, in upholding his falling country. After the victory obtained by Morgan at the Cowpens, David son was ampng the mpst active ef his ccuntrymen in assembling the militia ef his district, tc enable general Greene, whe had join- ed the light corps under Mergan, tp stop the progress pfthe advan- 240 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. cing enemy, and was detached by general Greene, on the night of the last day of January, to guard the very ford selected by lord Cornwallis for his passage of the Catawba river on the next morning. Davidson possessed himself of the post in the night, at the head of three hundred men; and having placed a picket near the shore, statipned the corps at some small distance from the ford. General Henry Lee, from whpse memoirs pf the war in the southern department ef the United States, we ccpy the present sketch of general Davidson, gives the following account of the battle: "A dispcsitton was immediately made to dislodge Davidson, which the British general O'Harra, with the guards, effected. Lieutenant-ccfonel Hall led with the light ccmpany, folfowed by the grenadieis. The current was rapid, the stream waist deep, and five hundred yards in width. The scldiers crcssed in platepns, suppprting each ether's steps. When lieutenant- cctonel Hall reached the river, he was descried by the Ameri can sentinels, whese challenge and fire brcught Davidspn's ccrps into array. Deserted by his guide, Hall passed directly across, net knpwing the landing place, which lay belew him. This de- viation from the common course rendered it necesi-ary for Da vidson to incline to the right; but this manoeuvre, although promptly performed, was npt effected until the light infantry had gained the shere. A fierce cenflict ensued, which was well suppcrted by Davidson and his inferior force. The militia at length yielded, and Davidson, while mounting his hoise to di rect his retreat, was killed. The corps dispersed and sought safety in the woods. Our toss was small, excepting general Da vidson, an active, zealous, and influential officer. The British lieutenant-cofonel Hall was alsp killed, with three pf the light infantry, and thirty-six were weunded. Lprd Cornwallis' horse was shot under him, and fell, as soon as he got upon the shore. Leslee's horses were carried down the stream, and with diffi culty saved; and O'Harra's tumbled over with him into the water." The loss of brigadier-general Davidson would have been felt in any stage of the war. It was particularly detrimental in its effect at this period, as he was the chief instrument relied upon CHRISTPPHER GADSDEN. 241 by general Greene for the assemblage of the mibtia; an event all-important at this crisis, and anxtously desired by the Ameri can general. The ball passed through his breast, and he in stantly fell dead. This premising spldier was thus lest to his ccuntry in the me ridian ef life, and at a mement when his services weuld have been highly beneficial te her. He was a man ef pppular man ners, pleasing address, active and indefatigable. Enampred with the professfon pf arms, and deveted te the great cause for which he fought, his future usefulness may be inferred from his former conduct. The congress of the United States, in gratitude for his servi ces, and in commemoration of their sense of his worth, passed the following resolution, directing the erection of a monument to his memory: "Resolved, That the governor and ceuncil pf the state of North Carolina be desired to erect a monument, at the expense of the United States, not exceeding the value of five hundred dollars, to the memory of the late brigadier-general Davidson, who commanded the mibtia of the district of Salisbury, in the state of North Carolina, and was killed on the first day of Fe bruary last, fighting gallantly in the defence of the liberty and independence of these states."* CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, Brigadier-general and lieutenant governor of South Carolina. This venerable patriot of the revolution was born in Charles ton, about the year 1724. He was sent to England by his fa ther, while a youth, where he was educated. At the age of sixteen he returned to Carolina, and finished his education in the counting-house of Mr. Lawrence, of Philadelphia. General Gadsden had naturally a strong love for indepen dence. He was born a republican. Under a well ordered go- *American Biographical Dictionary. 242 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. vernment he was a good subject, but could not brook the en croachments of any man, or body of men, to entrench on his rights. "As early as 1766," says judge Johnson, "there was at least one man in Seuth Carolina whp foresaw and foretold the views pf the British government, and explicitly urged his adherents to the resolutton to resist even to death. General Gadsden, it is well knewn, always favpred the mpst decisive and energetic measures. He thcught it folly to temporize, and insisted that cordial reconciliation, on honorable terms, was impossible. When the news of the repeal of the stamp act arrived, and the whole community was in ecstacy at the event, he, on the con trary, received it with indignation, and' privately convening a party of his friends, he harangued them at considerable length on the folly of relaxing their Opposition and vigilance, or indulg ing the fallacious hope that Great Britain would relinquish her designs or pretensions. He drew their attention to the pream ble of the act, and forcibly pressed upon them the absurdity ef rejoicing at an act that still asserted and maintained the abso lute dominton pver them. And then reviewing all the chances ef succeeding in a struggle te break the fetters, when again im- pesed upen them, he pressed them to prepare their minds for the event. The address was received with silent but profound de votion; and with linked hands, the whole party pledged them selves to resist; a pledge that was faithfully redeemed when the hour of trial arrived." • "In June, 1775, when the provincial congress determined to raise troops, Gadsden, though absent on public duty at Philadel phia, was, without his consent or knowledge, elected colonel of the first regiment. Fbr persenal courage he was inferior to no man. In knowledge ofthe military art, he had several equals, and some superiors, but from the great confidence reposed in his patriotism, and the popularity pf his name, he was put at the head ef the new military establishment. He left cengress, and repaired to the camp in Carolina, declaring that "wherever his ceuntry placed him, whether in the civil er military department; and if in the latter, whether as cerppral cr cclpnel, he would cheerfully serve te the utmpst pf his ability." In the next year he was promoted by congress tp the rank ef CHRUTPFHER GADSDEN. 243 brigadier-general. He commanded at Fort Johnson, when the fort on Sullivan's Island was attacked; and he was prepared to receive the enemy in their progress te Charlesten. The repulse pf the British prevented his ccming into acticn. Their retreat relieved South Carolina from the pressure of war for two years. In this period, Gadsden resigned his military command, but con tinued to serve in the assjmbly and the privy council, and was very active in preparing for and endeavoring to repel the suc cessive invasions of the state by the British in 1779 and 1780. He was the friend of every vigorous measure, and always ready to undertake the most laborious duties, and to put himself in the front of danger. When Charleston surrendered by capitulation, he was lieu tenant-governor, and paroled as such, and honorably k<'pt his engagement. For the three months which followed, he was undisturbed; but on the defeat of Gates, in August, 1780, the British reselved that he and several ethers, whp discovered no disposition to return to the condition of British subjects, should be sent out of the country. He was accordingly taken in his own house by a file pf soldiers, and put en bpard a vessel in the harber. He knew net why he was taken up, ner what was in tended to be dpne with him, but supposed it was introductory to a trial for treasen pr rebellfon, as the British gave put that the ccuntry was ccmpletely cpnquered. He was soon joined by twenty-eight compatriots, who were also taken up on the same day. He drew from his pocket half a dollar, and turning to his as sociates with a cheerful countenance, assured them that was all the money he had at his ccmmand. The ccnquerers sent him and his ccmpantons to St. Augustine, then a British garrison. On their landing, limits of some extent were offered to them, on conditipn cf their renewing the parole they had given in Charlesten, "to dp npthing injurtous to the British interest." When this was tendered to general Gadsden, he replied, "That he had already given one, and honorably observed it; that, in violatipn pf his rights as a prispner under a capitulatipn, he had been sent from Charleston, and that, therefore, he sawno use in giving a secend parole." The cpmmanding cfficer replied, "He wpuld enter into np argumeuts, but demanded an explicit answer 244 CHRISTPPHER GADSDEN. whethei he weuld pr would not renew his parole." General Gadsden answered with that high-minded republican spirit which misfortunes could not keep down, "I will not. In God I put my trust, and fear no consequences." "Think better of it, sir," said the officer; "a second refusal will fix your destiny; a dungeon will be your future habitation." "Prepare it then," said the inflexible patriot, "I will give no parole, so help me God." He was instantly hurried off to the castle, and there confined for ten months in a small room, and in a state of com plete separation from his fellow-prisoners, and in total ignorance of the advantages gained by his countrymen, but with most am ple details of their defeats, and particularly of the sequestra tion of his estate with that of the other Carolina rebels. After Andre's arrest, colonel Glazier, the governor of the castle, sent to advise general Gadsden to prepare himself for the worst, intimating that as general Washington had been as sured of retaliation if Andre was executed, it was not unlikely that he weuld be the perspn selected. To this message he magnanimcusly replied, "That he was always prepared tp die for his country, and that he weuld rather ascend the scaffold than purchase with his life the dishcnpr pf his ccuntry." In the course of 1781, the victories of general Greene pro cured an equivalent for the release of all the prisoners belong ing to South Carolina. Mr. Gadsden was discharged from close confinement, and rejoined his fellow-prisoners. The reciprocal congratulations on the change of circumstances, and on seeing each other after ten months separation, though in the same gar rison, may be more easily cenceived than expressed. They were all cenveyed by water from St. Augustine te Philadelphia, and there delivered. On their arrival they were informed, for the first time, pf the happy turn American affairs had taken subse quent to Gates' defeat. General Gadsden hastened back to Carolina to aid in recovering it from the British. He was elect ed a member of the assembly which met at Jacksonburgh in 1782. General Gadsden cpntinued in the ceuntry throughput the year 1782, serving as ene pf the gpverner's council. On the 14th of December, 1782, he, with the American army and citi zens, made their triumphant entry into Charleston in the rear of CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 245 the evacuating British. In the first moment of his return, af ter an absence of more than two years, he had the pleasure of seeing the British fleet, upward of three hundred sail, in the act of departing from the pert, and the capital, as well as the cpuntry, restored te its proper ewners. Mr. Gadsden hence forward deveted himself to private pursuits, but eccasicnally served in the assembly, and with unspeakable delight in, the twe state ccnventfons; the ene fer the ratificaticn pf the natienal cpnstitutipn in 1788, and tbe Pther for revising the state ccnsti- tutfon in 1790. He survived his 81st year, generally enjpying gppd health, and at last died, mere from the censequenCes pf an accidental fall than the weight ef disease, pr decays pf natuie. His ppintons pf lawyers were net favprable. He censidered their pleadings as generally tending to pbscure what was plain, and to make difficulties where there were npne; arid much mere subservient to render their trade lucrative than tc advance jus tice. He adhered to that clause pf Mr. Lpcke's fundamental censtitutipn, which makes it "a base and vile thing to plead for money or reward;" and wished that the lawyers, When necessa ry to justice, should be provided with salaries at the public ex pense, like the judges, that they might be saved from the shame of hiring their tongues to the first who offered or gave the lar gest fee. Of physicians he thought very little. He censidered temperance and exercise superier te all their prescripttons, and that in mest cases they rendered them altogether unnecessary. In many things he was particular. His passions were strong, and required all his religien and phifospphy to curb them. His patrietism was bpth disinterested and ardent. He declined all pffices of profit, and through life refused to take the compensa tions annexed by law to such offices of trust as were conferred on him. His character was impressed with the hardihood of antiquity; and he possessed an erect, firm, intrepid mind, which was well calculated for buffeting with revolutionary storms;"* ?Ramsay's History of South Carolina. *2 246 DANIEL MORGAN. DANIEL MORGAN, Brigadier-General in the American Army. General Mprgan was the creator pf his own fortune. Bprn pf pppr, thpugh honest parents, he enjoyed none of the advanta ges which result from wealth and early- education. But his was a spirit that would not tamely yield to difficulties. He was born in .New- Jersey, where, from his poverty and low condition, he had been a day-laborer. To early education and breeding, therefore, he owed nothing. But for this defi ciency, his native sagacity and sound judgment, and his inter- ccurse with the best society, made much amends in after life. "Enterprising in his disposition, even now he removed to Vir- ginia, in 1755, with a hope and expectation of improving his fortune. Here he continued, at first, his original business of day-labor; but exchanged it afterward for the employment of a wagoner. "His military novitiate he served in the campaign under the unfortunate Braddock. The rank he bore is not precisely known. It must, however, have been humble; for, in conse- quence cf imputed ccntumely towards a British officer, he was brought to the halbert, and received the inhuman punishment of five hundred lashes; or, according to his own statement, of four hundred and ninety-nine; for he always asserted that the drum mer charged with the execution of the sentence, miscounted, and jocularly added, 'That George the Third was still indebted to bim one lash.' To the honor of Morgan he never practically remembered this savage treatment during the revolutionary war. Towards the British officers whom the fortune of hattie placed within his power, his conduct was humane, mild, and gentle manly. "After his return from this campaign, so inordinately was he addicted to quarrels and boxing matches, that the village of Ber- rystown, in the county of Frederick, which constituted the chief theatre of his pugilistic exploits, received, from this circum stance, the name of Battletown. DANIEL MORGAN. 247 "In these combats, although frequently overmatched in per sonal strength, he manifested the same unyielding spirit which characterized him afterward in his military career. When worsted by his antagonist, he would pause for a time, to recruit his strength, and then return to the ccntest, again and again, un til he rarely failed to prove victorious. "EquMly marked was.his invincibility of spirit in maturer age, when raised, by fortune and his own merit, to a higher and more hpnprable field ef acticn. Defeat in battle he rarely experien ced; but when he did, his retreat was sullen, stern, and dan gerous. "The commencement cf the American revclutton found Mr. Mprgan married and cultivating a farm, which, by industry and eccnpmy, he had been enabled to purchase, in the ceunty pf Frederick. "Placed at the head cf a rifle ccmpany, raised in his neigh- borhood in 1775, he marched immediately to the American head quarters in Cambridge, near Boston. "By order of the commander-in-chief, he 800n afterward jonied in the expedition against Quebec, and was made prisoner in the attempt on that fortress, where Arnold was wounded, and Montgomery fell. During the assault, his daring valpr and persevering gallantry attracted the netice and admiration of the enemy. "The assailing column to which he belonged, was led by ma jor Arnold. When that officer was wounded, and carried from the ground, Morgan threw himself into the lead, and, rushing forward, passed the first and second barriers. For a moment, victory appeared certain. But the fall of Montgomery closing the prospect, the assailants were repulsed, and the enterprise abandoned. During his captivity, captain Morgan was treated with great kindness, and not a little distinction. He was re peatedly visited in confinement by a British officer of rank, who at length made an attempt on his patriptism and virtue, by effer- ing him the cemmissipn and emeluments pf cplonel in the British army, on condition that he would desert the American and join the royal standard. "Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn, and requested the courtly and corrupt negotiator 'never again to insult him in his 248 DANIEL MORGAN. misfortunes by an offer which plainly implied that he thought him a villain.' The officer withdrew, arid did not again recur to the subject. "On being exchanged, Morgan immediately re-joined the American army, and received, hy the recommendation of gene ral Washington, the command of a regiment. "In the year 1777, he was placed at the head of a Select rifle corps, with which, in various instances, he acted cn the enemy with terrible effect. His trepps were censidered the mpst dan gerous in the American service. Tp ccnfront them in the field was almost certain death to the British officers. "On the occasicn pf the capture cf Burgpyne, the exertiens and services ef colonel Morgan and his riflemen were beyond all praise. Much of the glory of the achievement belonged to them. Yet so gross was the injustice of general Gates, that he did not even mention them in his official despatches. His reason for this was secret and dishoncrable. Shertly after the surren der ef Burgpyne, general Gates tepk pccasion tp hpld with Mor- gan a private conversation. In the course of this he told him confidentially, that the main army was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of general Washington; that the reputation of the commander-in-chief was rapidly declining; and that several officers of great worth threatened to resign, unless a change was produced in that department. "Colonel Morgan fathoming in an instant the vieWs of his com manding officer, sternly, and with honest indignation, replied, "Sir; I have one favor to ask. Never again mention to me this hateful subject; under no other man but general Washington, as commander-in-chief, will I ever serve.' "From that moment ceased the intimacy that had previeusly subsisted between him and general Gates. "A few days afterward the general gave a dinner to the prin cipal pfficers cf the British, and seme ef those of the American army. Morgan was not invited. In the course of the evening, that officer found it necessary to call cn general Gates, en offi cial business. Being introduced intc the dining repm, he spoke to the general, received his nrders, and immediately withdrew, his name unannounced. Perceiving, from his dress, that he was of high rank, the British officers inquired his name. Being told DAXTEL MORGAN. 249 that it was colonel Morgan, commanding the rifle corps, they rose from the table, followed him into the yard, and introduced themselves to him, with many complimentary and flattering ex pressions, declaring that, on the day of action, they had very severely felt him in the field. "In 1780, having obtained leave of absence from the army on account of the shattered condition of his health, he retired to his estate in tbe county of Frederick, and remained there until tbe appointment of general Gates to the command pf the south ern army. "Being waited on by the latter, and requested to accompany him, he reminded him, in expressions marked by resentment, of the unworthy treatment he had formerly experienced from him, in return for tbe important services which, he did not hesitate to assert, he had rendered him in his operations against the army of general Burgoyne. "Having received no acknowledgment, nor even civility, for aiding to decorate him with laurels in the north, he frankly de clared that there were no considerations, except of a pubhc na ture, that could induce him to co-operate in his campaigns to tbe south. 'Motives of pubbc good might influence him; because his country had a claim on him, in any quarter where he could promote her interest; but persenal attachment must not be ex pected to exist where he had experienced nothing but neglect and injustice.' "The two officers parted, mutually dissatisfied ; the one on account of past treatment; the other, of the recent interview. "In the course of a few weeks afterward, congress having promoted colonel Morgan to the rank of brigadier-general by brevet, with a view to avail themselves of his services in the south, he proceeded without delay to join the army of general Gates. But he was prevented from serving any length of time under that officer, by his defeat near Camden, before his arrival, and his being soon afterward superseded in command by gene ral Greene.* "Soon after taking command of the southern army, general Greene despatched general Morgan with four hundred conti- *Life of General Greene. 250 DANIEL MORGAN. nentals under colonel Howard, colonel Washington's corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting in all to about six hun dred, to take position on the left of the British army, then lying at Winnsborough, under lord Cornwallis, while he took post about seventy miles to his right. This judicious disposition ex cited his lordship's apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-Six and Augusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced by the movements of Morgan. "Colonel Tarleton, with a strong detachment, amounting, in horse and foot, to near a thousand men, was immediately des patched by Cornwallis to the protection of Ninety-Six, with or ders to bring general Morgan, if possible, to battle. To the ar dent temper and chivalrous disposition of the British colonel, this direction was perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall back rapidly. But the retreat of the American commander was not long continued. Irritated by pursuit, re-inforced by a body of militia, and reposing great confidence in the spirit and firmness of his regular troops, he halted at the Cowpens, and determined to gratify his adversary in his eagerness for combat. This was on the night of the 16th of January, 1781. Early in the morning pf the succeeding day, Tarleton, being apprised ef the situatipn pf Mprgan, pressed to wards him with a redpubled rapidity, lest, by 'renewing his re treat, he sheuld again elude him. "But Mergan now had other thoughts than those of flight. Already had he, for several days, been at war with himself in relation to his conduct. Glorying in action, his spirit recoiled from the humiliation of retreat, and his resentment was roused by the insolence of pursuit. This mental conflict becoming mere intolerable to him than disaster or death, his courage tri umphed, perhaps, over his prudence, and he resolved on putting every thing to the hazard of the sword. "By military men who have studied the subject, his disposi tion for battle is said to have been masterly. Two light parties of militia were advanced in front, with order to feel the enemy ag they approached: and preserving a desultory, well-aimed fire, as they fell back to the front line, to range with it, and re new the conflict. The main body pf the militia composed this DANIEL MORGAN. 251 line, with general Pickem at its head. At a suitable distance in the rear of the first line, a second was stationed, composed of the ccntinental infantry and twp cempanies ef Virginia militia, cpmmanded by colenel Howard. Washington's cavalry, re-in forced with a company of mounted militia, armed with sabres, was held in reserve. "Posting himself then in the line of the regulars, he waited in silence the advance of the enemy. "Tarleton coming in sight,' hastily formed his dispositipn for battle, and cemmenced the assault. Of this cenflict, the foltow- ing picture is from the pen of general Lee: 'The American light parties quickly yielded, fell back, and arrayed with Pickens. The enemy shcuting, rushed forward uppn the front line, which retained its statipn, and' ppured in a clcse fire; but continuing to advance with the bayonet en our militia, they retired, and gained with haste the second line. Here, with part of the corps, Pickens took post on Howard's right, aud the rest fled to their horses, probably with orders to remove them to a further distance. Tarleton pushed forward, and was received by his adversary with unshaken firmness. The contest became obstinate; and each party, animated by the example of its leader, nobly contended for victory. Our line maintained itself so firmly as to oblige the enemy to order up his reserve. The advance of M'Arthur reanimated the British line, which again moved forward, and outstretching our front, endangered colonel Howard's right. This officer instantly took measures to defend his flank, by directing his right company to change its front; but mistaking this prder, the cempany fell back; upen which the line began te retire, and general Mergan direc ted it to retreat to the cavalry. This manoeuvre being per formed with precision, cur flank became relieved, and the new position was assumed with promptitude. Considering this retro grade movement the precursor of flight, the British line rushed on with impetuosity and disorder; but as it drew near, Howard faced about, and gave it a close and murderous fire. Stunned by this unexpected sheck, the mest advanced cf the enemy re- ceiled in cenfuston. Hpward seized the happy mpment, and followed his advantage with the bayenet. This decisive step gave us the day. The reserve having been brought near the 252 DANIEL MPRGAN. line, shared in the destructton pf pur fire, and presented no ral lying point to the fugitives. A part of the enemy's cavalry ha ving gained our rear, fell on that portion of the militia who had retired to their horses. Washington struck at them with his dragoons, and drove them before him. Thus, by a simultaneous effort, the infantry and cavalry of the enemy were routed. Morgan pressed home his success, and tbe pursuit became vi gorous and general.' "In this decisive battle we lost about seventy men, of whom twelve only were killed. The British infantry, with the excep tion of the baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. One hundred, including ten officers, were killed; twenty-three offi cers and five hundred privates were taken. The artillery, eight hundred muskets, two standards, thirty-five baggage wagons, and one hundred dragoon horses, fell into our possession." In this battle, so glorious to the American arms, Tarleton had every advantage in peint pf ground, cavalry, and numbers, aid ed by twe pieces of artillery. Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent attacks of rheuma tism compelled general Morgan to retire from the army, and he returned to his seat in Frederick, Virginia, where he continued in retirement until the insurrection in the western part of Penn- ¦sylvania, in 1794, when he was detached by the executive of Virginia, at the head of the militia quota of that state, to sup press it. This done, he returned into the bespm of his family, where he remained until death clesed his earthly career, in 1799. "There existed in the character cf general Mergan a singu lar contradicticn, which is wcrthy pf notice. "Althcugh in battle np man was ever mpre prodigal of the exposure of his person to danger, or manifested a more deliberate disregard for death; yet, so strong was his love of life at other times, that he has been frequently heard to declare, 'he would agree to pass half his time as a galley-slave, rather than quit this world for another.' "The folfowing putline of his persen and character is from the pen ef a military friend, whe knew him intimately: 'Brigadier-general Mprgan was stout and active, six feet in height, strong, not too much encumbered with flesh,and was ex actly fitted for the toils and pomp of war. His mind was dis- JOHN STARK. 253 criminating and solid, but not comprehensive and combining. His manners plain and decorous, neither insinuating nor repul sive. His conversation grave, sententious, and considerate, un adorned and uncaptivating. He reflected deeply, spoke little, and executed, with keen perseverance, whatever he undertook. He was indulgent in his military command, preferring always the affections of his troops, to that dread and awe which sur rounded the rigid disciplinarian.' "A considerable time before his death, when the pressure pf infirmity began te be heavy, he became serieusly ccncerncd about his future welfare. From that period, his chief solace lay in the study of the scriptures, and in devotional exercises. He died in the belief of the truths of Christianity, and in full com munion with the Presbyterian church."* JOHN STARK, Brigadier-General jn the American Army, General Stark was a native of NeW-Hampshire, and was born in Londonderry, August 17th, 1728. From his early youth he had been accustomed tc the alarm ef war, having lived in that part pf the ccuntry which was ccntinually subject te the incursiens pf the savages. While a child, he was captured by them, and adopted as one pf their own; but after a few years was restored. Arrived at manhppd, his manners were plain, henest, and se vere; excellently calculated fer the benefit of society in the pri vate walks cf life; and as a cpurageeus and heroic seldier, he is entitled to a high rank ampng thpse whe have been crowned with unfading laurels, and to whom a large share ef glory is justly due. He was captain ef a company cf rangers in the provincial. service during the French war, in 1755.. From the cemmencement pf the difficulties with the mcther cpuntry, until the closing scene of the revolution, our country *Life of Greene. 33 254 JOHN STARK. found in general Stark ene pf his mpst reselute, independent, and persevering defenders. The first call ef his ccuntry found him ready. When the repprt pf Lexington battle reached him, he was engaged at wprk in his saw-mill: fired with indignalton and a martial spirit, he immediately seized his musked, and with a band pf herees proceeded tc Cambridge. The merning after his arrival, he received a cptonel's commission, and availing him self of his own popularity, and the enthusiasm of the day, in two hours he enlisted eight hundred men. On the memorable 17th of June, at Breed's Hill, colonel Stark, at the head ef his back- weodsmen ef New-Hampshire, ppured pn the enemy that deadly fire, from a sure aimr which effected such remarkable destruc- tton in their ranks, and cpmpelled them twice to retreat. Du ring the. whele ef this dreadful cenflict, ccfonel Stark evinced that censummate bravery and intrepid zeal, which entitle his name to perpetual remembrance. His spirit pervaded his native stale, and excited them to the most patriptic efforts. The British general Burgpyne, in pne of his letters, observes, "That the Hampshire Grants, almost un known in the last war, how abound in the most active and most rebellious race on fhe continent, and hang like a gathering storm uppn my left." * Distinct from his efforts in rallying the energies ef his native state, he ebtained great credit in the active pperations of the field. At that gloomy period of the revolution, the retreat of Washington through New-Jersey, in 1776, when the saviour of our country, apparently deserted of heaven and by his coun try, with the few gallant spirits who gathered the closer around him iu.fhat dark 'hour, precipitately fled before an imperious and victorious enemy — it was on this occasion that the perse vering valor pf Stark enrolled him ameng the firm and reselute defenders ef their country; and, with them, entitles him to her unceasing gratitude. But a3 he fearlessly shared with Washington the dark and gloomy night of defeat, so also he participated with him in tho joy of a bright morning of victory and hope. In the successful enterprise against Trenton, Stark, then a colonel, acted, a con spicuous part, and covered himself with glery. General Wil kinson, in his memeirs, says, "1 must npt withhpld due praise JPHN STARK. 255 from the dauntless Stark, who dealt death wherever he found resistance, and broke down all opposition before him." Soon after this affair, colonel Stark, from some supposed in justice toward bim on the part of congress, quitted the conti nental service, and returned to New-Hampshire. "When he was urged by the government of New-Hampshire to take the command of their militia, he refused, unless he should be at liberty to serve or not, under a continental officer, as he should judge proper. It was not a time for debate, and it was known that the militia would foltow wherever Stark weuld lead. The assembly therefore invested him with a separate ccmmand, and gave him erders tp 'repair to Charlestown, en Cpnnecticut river; there to ccnsult with a committee of the New-Hampshire Grants respecting his future operations, and the supply of his men wilh provistons; to take the cpmmand pf the militia, and march into the Grants: to act in conjunction with the troops of that new state, or any other of the states, or of the United States, or separately, as it should appear expe dient to him, for the protection of the people and the annoy ance of the enemy.'"* Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded, in a few days, to Charlestown; his men very readily followed, and, as fast as they arrived, he sent them forward to join the troops of Vermont un der colonel Warner, who had taken his situation at Manchester. At that place he joined Warner with about eight hundred men from New-Hampshire, and found another body of men from Ver mont, who put themselves under his command ; and he was at the head of fourteen hundred men. Most of them had been in the two former campaigns, and well officered; and were, in every respect, a body of very good troops. Schuyler repeatedly urged Stark to join the troops under 'his command, but he de clined complying. He was led to this conduct not only by the reasons which have been mentioned, but by a difference of opin ion as to the best method of opposing Burgoyne. Schuyler wished to collect all the American troops in the front, to pre vent Burgoyne from marching on to Albany. Stark was of opinion that the surest way to check Burgoyne was tp have a *Belknap's History of New-Hampshire. 256 JOHN STARK. bedypf men pn his rear, ready to fall uppn him in that quarter, whenever a favorable cppprtunity shpuld present. The New- England militia had net formed a high epinton pf Schuyler as a general; and Stark meant tp keep himself in a situatien in which he might embrace any faverable pppprtunity for acticn, either in cenjunetton with him, pr otherwise; and with that view intended to hang pn the rear ef the British trepps, and em brace the first cppprtunity which shculd present, to make an at tack upon that quarter^ But Stark assured Schuyler that he would join any measure necessary to promote the public good, hut wished to avoid any thing that was npt censistent with his own honor; and if it was thought necessary, he would march to his camp. He wrote particularly, that he would lay aside all private resentment, when it appeared in opposition to the public good. But in the midst of these protestations he was watching for an opportunity to discover his courage and patriotism, by falling upon some part of Burgoyne's army. While the American army -was thus assuming a more respecta ble appearance, general Burgoyne was making very slow advances towards Albany. From the 28th of July to the 15th of August, the British army was continually employed in bringing forward batteaux, provisions, and ammunition, from Fort George to the first navigable part of Hudson's river, a distance of not more than eighteen miles. The labor was excessive; the Europeans were but little acquainted with the methods of performing it to advantage, and the effect was in no degree equivalent to the ex pense of labor and time, With all the efforts that Burgoyne could make, encumbered with his artillery and baggage, his la bors were inadequate to the purpose of supplying the army with provisions for its daily consumption, and the establishment of the necessary magazines. And after his utmest exertiens for fifteen days, there were netabpve four days' proyistons in the store, nor abpve ten batteaux in Hudsen's river, In such circumstances, the British general found that it wpuld be impessible to procure sufficient supplies of provisions by. the way of Fort George, and determined to replenish his own mag azines at the expense of those of the Americans. Having re- ceived information that a large quantity of stores were laid up at Bennington, and guarded enlyby the militia, he formed the JOHN STARK. 257 design of surprising that place; and was made to believe that as soon as a detachment of the royal army should appear in that quarter, it would receive effectual assistance from a large body of loyalists, who only waited for the appearance of a support, and would in that event come forward and aid the royal cause. Full of these expectations, he detached colonel Baum, a Ger man officer, with a select body of troops, to surprise the place. His force consisted of about five hundred regular tropps, spme Canadians, and mere than ene hundred Indians, with twp light pieces of artillery. To facilitate their operations, and to be ready to take advantage of the success of the detachment, the royal army mpved alpng the east bank ef Hudspn's river, and en camped nearly opposite to Saratoga; having, at the same time, thrown a bridge ef rafts pver the river, by which the army pas sed tc that place. With a view tc suppprt Baum, if it should be found necessary, lieutenant-ccfonel Breyman's cprps, con sisting pf the Brunswick grenadiers, light infantry, and chas seurs, were ppsted at Battenkill. General Stark having received infermatfon that a party pf Indians were at Cambridge, sent lieutenant-ccfonel Greg, cn August the 13th, with a party ef twp hundred men, te stop their progress. Tpward night he was informed by express that a large bedy pf regulars was in the rear ef the Indians, and ad vancing toward Bennington. On this intelligence Stark drew together his brigade, and the militia that were at hand, and sent cn to Manchester, tc ccfonel Warner, to bring pn his regi ment; he sent expresses at the same time te the neighbering mi litia, to jpin him with the utmest speed. On the merning pf the 14th, he marched with his trepps, and at the distance ef seven miles he met Greg en the retreat, and the enemy within a mile of him. Stark drew up his troops in order of battle; but the enemy, coming in sight, halted upon a very advantageous piece of ground. Baum perceived the Americans were too strong to be attacked- by his present force, and sent an ex press to Burgpyne with an account of his situation, and to have Breyman march immediately to support him. In the mean time small parties of the Americans kept up a skirmish with the enemy, killed and wounded thirty of them, with two of their In dian chiefs, without any loss to themselves. The ground the 258 JOHN STARK. Americans had taken was unfavorable for a general action, and Stark retreated about a mile, and encamped. A council of war was held, and it was agreed to send two detachments upon the enemy's rear, while the rest of the troops should make an attack upon their front. The next day the weather was rainy, and though it prevented a general action, there were frequent skir mishes in small parties, which proved favorable and encoura ging to the Americans. On August the 16th, in the morning, Stark was joined by cot Onel Symonds and a body of militia from Berkshire, and procee ded to attack the enemy, agreeably te the plan which had been concerted. Colonel Baum in the mean time had entrenched cn an advantageous piece ef ground near St. Koick's mills, on a branch of Hoosic river; and rendered his pest as strong as his circumstances and situation would admit. Colonel Nichols was detached with twp hundred men to the rear pf his left, colonel Herrick with three hundred men to the rear pf his right; both. were to jpin, and then make the attack. Ccfonels Hubbard and Stickney, with twe hundred men, were prdered pn the right, and pne hundred were advanced towards the front, tp draw the at- tentipn pf the enemy that way. Abeut three p'clcck in the afc terncpn the trepps had taken their statien, and were ready to commence the action. While Nichcls and Herrick were bring ing their troops together, the Indians were alarmed at the pros pect, and pushed off between the two corps; but received a fire as they were passing, by which three of them were killed and two wounded. Nichols then began the attack, and was followed by all the other divisiens: thpse in the front immediately ad vanced, and in a few minutes the attack became general. It lasted abcut twphouis, and was like one continued peal of thun der. Baum made a brave defence; and the German dragoons, after they h-*d expended their ammunition, led by their colonel, charged with their swords, but they were soon overpowered, Their works were carried on all sides, their two pieces of can non were taken, colonel Baum was himself mortally wounded and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a few who had es caped into the woods, were either killed or taken prisoners. Having completed the business by taking the whole party, the militia began to disperse and look out for plunder. But in a JOHN STARK. 259 few minutes Stark received information that a large re-inforce ment was on their march, and within two miles of him. For tunately at that moment colonel Warner came ap with his regi ment from Manchester. This brave and experienced officer commanded a regiment of continental troops, which had been raised in Vermont. Mortified that he had not been in the for mer engagement, he instantly led on his men against Breyman, and began the second engagement. Stark collected the mibtia as soon as possible, and pushed on to his assistance. The action became general, and the battle continued obstinate on both sides till sunset, when the Germans were forced to give way, and were pursued till dark. They left their two field-pieces be hind, and a considerable number were made prisoners. They retreated in the best manner they could, improving the advan tages of the evening and night, to which alone their escape was ascribed. In these actions the Americans took four brass field-pieces, twelve brass drums, two hundred and fifty dragoon swords, four ammunition wagons, and about seven hundred prisoners, with their arms and accoutrements. Two hundred and seven men were found dead upon the spot, the numbers of wounded were unknown. The loss of the Americans was but small ; thirty were slain, and about forty were wounded. Stark was not a little pleased at having so fair an opportunity to vindicate his own conduct, He had now shown that no neglect from congress had made him disaffected to the American cause, and that he had rendered a much more important service than he could have done by joining Schuyler, and remaining inactive in his camp. Congress embraced the opportunity to assign to him his rank; and though he had not given to them any account of his victory, or wrote to them at all upon the subject, on October the fourth they resolved, "That the thanks of congress be presented to general Stark, of the New-Hampshire militia, and the officers and troops under his command, for their brave and successful at tack upon, and signal victory over tbe enemy, in tbeir tines at Bennington: and that brigadier Stark be appointed a brigadier- general in the army of the United States." And never were thanks more deserved, or more wisely given to a mihtary officer.* ?WiUiams' Vermont. 260 JOHN STARK. "In his official account of the affair, general Stark thus writes : 'It lasted two hours, the hottest I ever saw in my life; it represen ted one continued clap of thunder; however, the enemy were obliged to give way, and leave their field-pieces and all their baggage behind them; they were all environed within two breast-works with artillery; but our martial courage proved too strong for them. I then gave erders to rally again in prder to secure the victory; but in a few minutes was informed that there was a large re-inforcement en their march, within two miles. Colenel Warner's regiment luckily ccming up at the mement, renewed the attack with fresh vigor. I pushed for ward as many of the men as I could te their assistance ; the bat tle ccntinued ebstinate on bPth sides until sunset; the enemy was obliged to retreat; we pursued them till dark, and had day lasted an hour lenger, should have taken the whole body of them.' "On what small events does the popular humor and military success depend ! The capture of one thousand Germans by ge neral Washington, at Trenton, had served to wake up, and save the whole continent. The exploit of Stark, at Bennington, ope rated with the same kind of influence, and produced a similar pffect. This victory was the first event that had proved encour aging to the Americans in the northern department, since the death of general Montgomery. Misfortune had succeeded mis fortune, and defeat had folfowed defeat from that peried till npw. The present instance was the first in which victory had quitted the royal standard, pr seemed even to be wavering. She was new found with the American arms, and the effect seemed, in fact, to be greater than the cause. It raised the spirit of the ccuntry to an uncommon degree of animation; and by showing the militia what they could perform, rendered them willing and desirous to turn put and try what fortunes wpuld await their ex ertions. It had a still greater effect on the royal army. The British generals were surprised to bear that an enemy whom they had contemplated with no other feelings than those of con tempt, should all at once wake up, and discover much of the spirit of hercism. Tp advance upen the meuth pf canncn, to attack fortified lines, to carry strong entrenchments, were ex ploits which they supposed belonged exclusively to the armies OTHQ H; WILLIAMS; 261 of kings. To see a body cf American militia, ill dreesed, but bttle disciplined, withput cannpn, armed pnly with farmers' guns witheut bayonets, and whp had been accustomed to fly at their approach; that such men sheuld force the -entrenchments, cap ture the canncn, kill and make prispners pf a large bedy pf the royal army, was a matter pf indignatton, astonishment and sur prise."* "General Stark velunteered his services under general Gates at Saratoga, and assisted in the cpuncil which stipulated the sur render cf general Burgpyne ; ner did he relinquish his valuable services till he could greet his native country as an independent empire. General Stark was of the middle stature, not formed by nature to exhibit an erect soldierly mien. His manners were frank and unassuming, but he manifested a peculiar sort of ec centricity and negligence, which precluded all display of per sonal dignity and seemed to place him among those pf prdinary rank in life. His character as a private citizen, was unblem ished, and he was ever held in respect. Fer the last few years ef his: life, he enjeyed a pecuniary bounty from the government. He lived to the advanced age of ninety-three years eightmonths and twenty-four days, and died May 8th, 1822."t OTHO H. WILLIAMS, Brigadier-General in the American Army; This gentleman was formed for eminence in any station. His talents were of a high order, and his attainments various and extensive. Possessing a person of uncommon symmetry, and peculiarly distinguished by the elegance of his manners, he would have graced alike a court or a camp. "Rich in that species of military science which is acquired by experience, and a correct, systematic, and severe disciplinarian, general Greene confided to him the important trust of adjutant- general in the southern army. The services which, in this and ?Williams' Vermont. fThacher's Journal; 34 262 OTHO H. WILLIAMS. Other capacities, he rendered to that division of the American forces, in the course of their toilspme and perileus pperatiens, were beyend all praise. "He was born in the county of Prince George, in the year 1748, and received, during his youth, but a slender educatien. This he so much improved by subsequent study^ that few men had a finer taste, or a more cultivated intellect. "He commenced his military career as lieutenant of a rifle company in 1775; and, in the course ofthe following year, was promoted to the rank of a major in a rifle regiment. "In (his course he very honorably distinguished himself in the defence of Fprt Washington, on Yprk Island, when assaulted by Sir William Hewe; and, pn the surrender pf that ppst, became a prisoner. "Having suffered much by close confinement during his cap tivity, he was exchanged for major Ackland, after the capture of Burgoyne, and immediately rejoined the standard of bis ccuntry. "Being new prompted to the rank of colonel cf a regiment pf infantry, he was detached, under Baren De Kalb, tp the army pf the seuth. "General Gates having been appeinted to the ccmmand of this division of the American forces, he was present with that officer at the defeat before Camden; and during the action man ifested great valor and skill, in directing and leading the opera tions against the enemy, while resistance was practicable; and an equal degree of self-ppssessien and address, in conducting the troops from the field, when compelled to retreat. "But as an officer, his valor and skill in battle were among the lowest of his qualifications. His penetration and sagacity, united to a profound judgment and capacious mind, rendered him in the cabinet particularly valuable. "Hence he was one of general Greene's favorite counsellors, during the whole of his sputhern campaigns. Ncr did any thing ever eccur, either through neglect cr mistake, te impair the ccn- fidence thus repesed in him. In no considerable degree, he was to Greene, what that officer had been to general Washington, his strongest hope in all emergencies, where great policy and address were required. OTHp II. WILLIAMS. 263 ^This was clearly manifested by the post assigned te him by general Greene, during his celebrated retreat through Nprth Carolina. "In that great and memprable mpvement, en which the fate pf the seuth was staked, to Williams was cpnfided the cpmmand ofthe rear guard, which was literally the shield and rampart of the army. Had he relaxed, but for a moment, in his vigilance and exeition, or been guilty of a single imprudent act, ruin must have ensued. "Nor was his command much less momentous, when, re-cross ing the Dan, Greene again advanced on the enemy. Still in the post of danger and honor, he now, in the van pf the army, cpmmanded the same ccrps with which he had previously mo ved in the rear. "A military friend who knew him well, has given us the fol lowing summary of his character: "He possessed that range of mind, although self-educated, which entitled him to the highest military station, and was actua ted hy true courage, which can refuse, as well as give battle. Soaring far above the reach of vulgar praise, he singly aimed at prompting the common weal, satisfied with the consciousness of doing right, and desiring only that share of applause which was justly his own. "There was a loftiness and bberality in his character, which forbade resert to intrigue and hypecrisy in the acccmplishment of his views, and rejected the centemptible practice pf dispara ging pthers to exalt him. "In the field pf battle he was self-possessed, intelligent, and ardent; in camp, circumspect, attentive, and systematic; in ccuncil, sincere, deep, and perspicuous. During the campaigns cf general Greene, he was uniformly pne pf his few advisers, and held his unchanged confidence. Nor was he less esteemed by his brother officers, or less respected by his soldiery." "Shortly before the close of the war, he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general."* *Lifs of Qpneral Greene. 2.64- PELEG WADSWORTH. PELEG WADSWORTH, General of the Massachusetts Militia. "The following is an abstract of an interesting narrative taken from the travels of the late Dr. Dwight: 'After the failure of the expedition against the British garri son at Penobscot, general Peleg Wadsworth was appointed, in the spring of 1780, to the cemmand pf a party of state troops in Camden, in the district of Maine. At the expiration ofthe period for which the troops were engaged, in February follow ing, general Wadsworth dismissed his troops, retaining six sol diers only as a guard, and he was making preparations to de part from the place. A neighboring inhabitant communicated his situation to the British commander at Penobscot, and a party of twenty-five soldiers, commanded by lieutenant Stocktcn, was sent to make him a prispner. They embarked in a small schoo- ner, and landing within four miles ef the general's quarters, they were concealed at the house of one Snow, a methodist preacher, professedly a friend to him, but really a traitor, till eleven e'clock in the evening, where they made their arrangements for the attack en the general's quarters. The party rushed suddenly en the sentinel, who gave the alarm, and one of his comrades instantly opened the door of the kitchen, and the enemy were so near as to enter with the sentinel. The lady of the general, and her friend Miss Fenno, of Boston, were in the house at the time; and Mrs. Wadsworth escaped from the room of her hus band, into that of Miss Fenno. The assailants sepn became masters ef the whele heuse, except the repm where the general was, and which was strongly barred, and they kept up a censtant firing pf musketry into the windews and dpprs, except inte these of the ladies' room. General Wadsworth was provided with a pair ef pistols, a blunderbuss, and a fusee, which he employed with great dexterity, being determined to defend himself to the last moment. With his pistols, which he discharged several times, he defended the windows pf his room, and a door which opened into the kitchen. His blunderbuss he snapped several times, but unfortunately it missed fire; he then seized his fusee, PELEG WADSWORTH. 265 which he discharged on some who were breaking through one of the windows, and obliged them to flee. He next defend ed himself with the bayonet, till he received a ball through his left arm, when he surrendered, which terminated the contest. The firing, however, did not cease from the kitchen till the ge neral unbarred the door, when the soldiers rushed into the room: and one of them, who had been badly wounded, pointing his musket at his breast, exclaimed with an oath, 'You have taken my hfe, and I will take yours.' But lieutenant Stockton turned the musket and saved his life. The commanding officer now applauded the general for bis admirable defence, and assisted in putting on his clothes, saying, 'Ycu see we are in a critical situation; you must excuse haste.' Mrs. Wadsworth threw a blanket over him, and Miss Fenno apphed a handker chief closely around his wounded arm. In this condition, though much exhausted, he, with a wounded American sol dier, was directed to march on foot, while two British woun ded soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from the gene ral's barn. They departed in great haste. When they had proceeded about a mile, they met at a small house a number of people who had collected, and who inquired if they had taken general Wadswerth. They said np, and ad ded that they must leave a wounded man in tbeir care; and if they paid proper attention to him, they should be compensated; but if not, they would burn down their house: but the man ap peared to be dying. General Wadsworth was now mounted on the horse, behind the other wounded soldier, and was warned that his safety depended on his silence. Having crossed over a frozen mill-ponds about a mile in length, tbey were met by some of tbeir party who had been left behind. At this place they found the British privateer which brought the party from the fort. The captain, on being told that he must return there with the prisoner and the party, and seeing some of his men wound ed, became outrageous, and damned the general for a rebel, de manded how he dared to fire on tbe king's troops, and ordered him to help launch the boat, or he would put his hanger through his body. The general rephed that he was a prisoner, and bad ly wounded, and could not assist in launching the boat. Lieu tenant Stockton, on hearing of this abusive treatment,in a man- PELEG WADSWORTH. ner honorable to himself, told the captain' that the prisoner was a gentleman, had made a brave defence, and was to be treated accordingly, and added, that his conduct should be repre'sented to general Campbell. After this, the captain treated the pri soner with great civility, and afforded him every comfort in his power. General Wadsworth had left the ladies in the house, not a window of which escaped destruction. The doors were broken down, and two of the rooms were set on fire, the floors covered with blood, and on one of them lay a brave old soldier dangerously wounded, begging for death, that he might be re leased from misery. The anxiety and distress of Mrs. Wads worth was inexpressible, and that of the general was greatly in creased by the uncertainty in his mind respecting the fate of his little son, only five years old, who had been exposed to every danger by the firing into the house; but he had the happiness afterward to hear of his safety. Having arrived at the British post, the capture of general Wadsworth was soon announced, and the shore thronged with spectators, to see the man who, through the preceding year, had disappcinted all the designs of the British in that quarter: and loud shputs were heard from the rabble which cevered the shcre; but when he arrived at the fort and was cenducted into the pfficer's guard-room, he was treated with peliteness. General Campbell, the cemmandant pf the British garrisen, sent his cpmpliments to him, and a surgeon to dress his wounds; assuring him that his situation should be made cemfortable. The next mprning general Campbell invited him to breakfast, and at table paid him many ccmpliments en the defence he had made, ebserving, hpwever, that he had exposed himself in a degree net perfectly justiafible. General Wads- wprth replied, that from the manner ef the attack he had no reasen to suspect any design cf taking him alive, and that he intended therefore to sell his life as dearly as ppssible. 'But, sir,', says general Campbell, 'I understand that the captain pf the privateer treated yeu very ill; I shall see that matter set right.' He then informed the prisoner that a room in the officers' bar racks within the fort was prepared for him, and that he should send his orderly-sergeant daily to attend him to breakfast and dinner at his table. Having retired to his solitary apartment, and while his spirits were extremely depressed by a recollection PELEQ WADSWORTH. 267 of the past, and by his present situation, he received from gene ral Campbell several books of amusement, and soon after a visit from him, kindly endeavoring to cheer tlie spirits of his prisoner by conversation. Not long after, the officers of the party called; and among others the redoubtable captain of the privateer, who called to ask pardon for what had fallen from him when in a passion; adding that it was not in his nature to treat a gentleman prisoner ill; that the unexpected disappointment of his cruise had thrown him off his guard, and he hoped that this would be deemed a sufficient apology. This general Wadsworth accept ed. At the hour of dining he was invited to the table ot the commandant, where he met with all the principal officers of the garrison, and from whom he received particular attention and politeness. General Wadsworth soon made application to the commandant for a flag of truce, by which means he cculd trans mit a letter te the gevernor of Massachusetts, and another to Mrs. Wadsworth: this was granted, on the ccnditton that the letter to the governor should be inspected. The flag was in trusted to lieutenant Stockton, and on his return the general was relieved from all anxiety respecting bis wife and family. General Campbell, and the officers ef the garrisen, continued their civilities for spme time, and endeavered, by beoks and personal visits, to render his situation as pleasant as circumstan ces would admit of. At the end of five weeks, his wound being nearly healed, he requested of general Campbell the customary privilege of a parole, and received in reply, that his case had been reported to the ccmmanding officer at New- York, and that no alteration could be made till erders were received from that quarter- In about two months, Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss Fenno arrived; and general Campbell, and some of the officers, contributed to render their visit agreeable to all concerned. About the same time orders were received from the commanding general at New- York, which were concealed from general Wadsworth; but he finally learned that he was not to be pa roled nor exchanged, but was to be sent to England as a rebel of too much consequence to be at liberty. Not long afterward major Benjamin Burton, a brave and worthy man, who had ser ved under general Wadsworth the preceding summer, was ta ken and brought into the fort, and lodged in the same room with 268 PELEG WADSWORTH. general Wadsworth. He had been informed that both him self and the general were to be sent, immediately after the re turn ofa privateer now out on a cruise, either to NeW-York or Halifax, and thence to England. The prisoners immediately resolved to make a desperate attempt to effect their escape. They were confined in a grated room in the officers' barracks, within the fort; The walls of this fortress, exclusively of the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were twenty feet high, with fraising On the top, and chevaux-de-frise at the bottom. Two sentinels were always in the entry, and their dopr, the upper part of which was pf glass, might be opened by these watchmen whenever they thought proper, and was actually opened at sea sons of peculiar darkness and silence. At the exterior doors of the entries; sentinels were also stationed; as were others in the body of the fort, and at the quarters of general Campbell. At the guard-house a strong guard was daily mpunted; Several sentinels were statiened en the walls ef the fort, and a ccmplete line eccupied them by night. Witheut the ditch, glacis, and abattis, another complete set of soldiers patroled through the night also. The gate of the fort was shut at sunset, and a pick et-guard was placed cn pr near the isthmus leading from the fort to the main land; "The room in which they were confined was railed with" boards. One of these they determined to cut off so as to make a hole large enough to pass'through, and then to creep along till they should come to the next or middle entry, and then lower themselves down into this entry by a blanket. If they should not be discovered, the passage to the walls ofthe fort was easy. In the evening, after the sentinels had seen the prisoners retire to bed, general Wadsworth got up, and standing on a chair, at tempted to cut with his knife the intended opening, but soon found it impracticable. The next day, by giving a soldier a dollar, they procured a gimblet. With this instrument they proceeded cautiously, and as silently as possible, to perforate the board, and in order to conceal every appearance from their servants, and from the officers, their visiters, they carefully covered the gimblet hcles with chewed bread. At the end of three weeks their labers were sp far ccmpleted that it only remained to cut with a knife the parts which were left te hold the piece in its PELEG WADSWPRTH. 269 place. When their preparaticns were finished, they learned that a privateer in which they were to embark was daily ex pected. In the evening cf the 18th pf June a very severe storm pf rain, with great darkness, and almpst incessant lightning, came cn. This the prispners censidered as the propiticus mpment. Having extinguished their lights, they began to cut the cerners ofthe board, and in less .than an hour the intended opening was completed. The noise which the operation Occasioned was drowned by the rain falling on fhe roof. ' Major Burton first as cended to the ceiling, and pressed himself through the opening. General Wadsworth next, having put the corner of his blanket through the hole, and made it fast by a strong wooden skewer, attempted to make his way through, standing on a chair below, but it was with extreme difficulty that he; effected it, and reached the middle entry. From this he passed through the door which he found open, and made his way to the wall of the fort, and had to encounter the greatest difficulty before he could ascend to the top. He had now to creep along the top of the fort, between tbe sentry-boxes, at the very moment when the relief was shifting sentinels; but the falling of heavy rain kept the sentinels within their boxes, and favored his escape. Having now fastened his blanket round a picket at the top, he let himself down through the chevaux-de-frise to the ground, and in a manner astonishing to himself, made his way into the open field. Here he waspbli- ged te grope his way among rocks, stumps, and brush, in the darkness of night, till he reached the cove; happily the tide had ebbed, and- enabled him to cross the water, about a mile in breadth, and not more than three feet deep. About two o'clock in the morning, general Wadswprth found himself a mile and a half from the fort, and he proceeded through a thick wood and brush to the Penobscot river, and after passing some distance along the shore, being seven miles from the fort, to his unspeaka ble joy he saw his friend Burton advancing towards him. Ma jor Burton had been obliged to encounter in his course equal difficulties with his companion; and such were the incredible perils, dangers, and obstructions, which they surmounted, that their escape may be considered almost miraculous. It was now necessary they should cross the Penobscpt river, and very fortu nately they disccvered a cariee with oars on the shcre suited to 35 270 TIMPTHY PICKERING. their purpose. While en the river, they discevered a barge with a party ef British from the fort in pursuit pf thenybut by taking an oblique ceurse, and plying their ears to the utmost they happily eluded the eyes of their pursuers, and arrived safe on the western shore. After having wandered in the wilderness for several days and nights, exposed tp extreme fatigue and celd, and with np pther fopd than a little dry bread and meat which they brought in their pockets from the fort, they reached the set tlements cn the river St. Geerge, and ne further difficulties at tended their return to their respective families,"* TIMOTHY PICKERING, Colonel in the American Army. -Colonel Pickering was born in Salem, Massachusetts, on the 17th July, 1746, and was descended from a respectable fa mily, whp Were among the earliest emigrants. He received a liberal educatien and was graduated at Harvard University in 1763, at the moment wheh the peace between Great Britain and France had liberated the cefonies from a harrassing war,' and left them at leisure te investigate and ascertain their rights in relation tc the mpther ccuntry. The centroversy, that sppn arose, engrossed his feelings and enlisted all the ppwerful facul ties cf his mind pn the side pf his ccuntry. He sepn became the champion and leader pfthe whigs in this vicinity. The disputes between Great Britain and her American cefo nies, (which new form the United States,) cemmencing with the stamp act, in 1765, and revived in 1767, by the act of parlia ment for raising a revenue in the celonies, gave rise to two par ties, which at length were distinguished by the name of whig and tory; the latter acquiescing in the British claims of taxation; the former resisting them. In 1767, the assembly of Massachusetts sent a circular letter to the speakers of the assemblies for the purpose of promoting the adoption of uniform measures, (by pe^ *Thacher's Military Journal. TIMOTHY PICKERING. 271 titions and remonstrances,) to obtain a redress of grievances. Most of those assemblies concurred with that of Massachusetts. In 1768, a letter from lord Hillsborough, required the assembly of Massachusetts to rescind the vote of their predecessors for sending that circular letter. This was peremptorily refused by a majority of 92 to 17. The representatives of Salem, colonel Pickering's native town, were among the 17. At the next elec tion they were neglected, and whigs chosen in their stead. This was the crisis of the political revelutton in Salem. Cel. Pick ering was then four ahd twenty years pld. His elder and only brother was chosen one of the representatives: and from that time he was himself actively engaged in all the whig measures that were preliminary to the final revolution and independence of the colonies. Always a member of the committees of in spection and correspondence, the burthen of the writing rested upon him. The memory of one of them, characterized by the most magnanimous and generous Sentiments, is preserved by Dr. Ramsay, in his elegant "History of the American Revolution." When in 1774, the British parliament, by an act usually call ed the "Boston port-bill," shut up the capital of Massachusetts from the sea, thereby prostrating its active and extensive com merce, the seat of the provincial government was removed from Boston to Salem. Sympathizing with the sufferers of Boston, the inhabitants of Salem, at a full town meeting, voted an address to the new governor, general Gage, the great object of which was, so far as an expression of their sentiments would go, to pro cure relief for their brethren in Boston. That address was writ ten by colonel Pickering. Its conclusion doctor Ramsay justly thought worth transcribing on the page of history. It here fol lows with his introductory observation: "The inhabitants of Salem, in an address to governor Gage, concluded with these remarkable wprds — 'By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the course of trade might be turned hither, and to our benefit; but nature, in the formation of our harbor, forbid our becoming rivals in commerce, with that convenient mart; and were it otherwise, we must be dead to eve ry idea of justice, lost to all feelings of humanity, could wo in dulge one thought to seize on wealth, and raise our fortunes on tbe ruins of our suffering neighbors.' " 272 TIMPTHY PICKERING. While the seat of government remained at Salem, colonel Pickering received a note from the secretary 0/ the province, informing him that the geverner wished te see him at the secre tary's house. He went, and was introduced to general Gage. Taking coloneiPickering into another room, the general enter ed into conversation on the state of things, the solemn league and covenant, and the non-importation agreement. In the conclu- sicn, -the general said— "Well, there are merchants whe, not withstanding all your agreements, will import British gopds." Colonel Pickering answered— "They may import them, but the people will use their liberty to buy them or let them alone." These incidents are mentioned ^as evidence cf the ccnfidence he had acquired ameng his felfow-citizens, from an early perled pf pur pplitical disputes with Great Britain. On the 28th cf April, 1775, was the battle pf Lexington. Abeut 6 p'clcck in the mprning, ccfonel Pickering being in his office, (the registry of deeds for the county of Essex) a captain of militia from the adjacent town cf Danvers came in and informed him that a man had ridden inte that town, and iuformed. that the British trepps had marched from Bpston to Lexington, and at tacked the militia. This efficer, wh6se company belonged to colonel Pickering's regiment, asked for orders and received a verbal answer, that the Danvers companies should march withy out waiting for those of Salem. Immediately colonel Pickering went to the centre of the town and met a few of the principal inhabitants. A short con sultation ensued . Those who knew the distance of Lexington from Salem, and its relative situation to Boston, observed, that the British troops would certainly have returned to Boston long before the Salem militia could reach the scene of the reported action; and that to march would, therefore, be useless. It was, nevertheless, concluded to assemble the militia, and commence the match; and for this sole, reason — That it would be an evi dence to their brethren in the ceuntry, of their disposition to co operate in every measure which the common safety required. Tbis idea, however, of the fruitlessness of their march, was so predominant, that they halted a short time, when about two miles from the town; expecting every moment intelligence that the British tropps had returned. But receiving none, they re- TIMOTHY TICKERING. 273 sumed their march, and proceeded to Medford, which was about five miles from Boston. Here colenel Pickering first received certain information that the British troeps were still en their march, and on a route which rendered it pcssible temeet them. He hastened tbe march ef the militia pn the direct read to Charlestown and Bpston; until on an elevated part of the road, the smoke was seen from the fire of a small number of militia muskets discharged at a distance, at the British troops. He halted the companies, and ordered them to load; in full expectation of coming to an engagement. At that moment a messenger arrived from general Heath, who informed colonel Pickering that the British troops had their artillery in the rear, and could not be approached by musketry ; and that the general desired to see him. Leaving the companies in that position, be went across the fields and met general Heath. They soon after saw the British troops ascend the high ground called Bunker's-hill. It was about sunset. — The next day they enter ed Boston. It was before the close of the year 1775, that in organizing the provisional government of Massachusetts, colonel Pickering was appointed one of the judges of the court of common pleas for Essex, his native county, and sole judge ofthe maritime court, (which had cognizance of all prize-causes) for the mid dle district, comprehending Bcston, with Salem and the other perts in Essex; pffices which he held until he accepted an ap ppintment in the army. In the fall pf 1776, the army under general Washington's cpmmand being greatly reduced in numbers, a large re-inforce ment ef militia was called fer; five theusand from Massachusetts. Ccfonel Pickering tepk the command of a regiment of seven hundred men furnished from Essex. The quota of Salem was composed of volunteers. This tour of duty was performed in the winter of 1776* — 7, terminating at Boundbrook, in New-Jersey ; general Washing ton's head-quarters being at Morristown. Soon after his return home, colenel Pickering received an in vitation from general Washington, to take the office of adju tant-general. This he accepted, and joined the army under Washington's command at Middlebrook, in New-Jersey. The 274 TIMPTHY PICKERING. folfowing letter was addressed to the president pf congress by general Washington: — Morristown, May ^4, 1777; "Sir: — 1 beg leave to inform cpngress, that immediately after the receipt ef their resolve of the twenty-sixth of March, recom- mending the pffice ef adjutant-general tebe filled by the appoint ment ef a perspn pf abilities and unsuspected attachment tc Our cause, I wrote to cplonel Timothy Pickering, of Salem, offering him the post in the first instance, and transmitting at the same time a letter for colonel William Lee, whom congress had been pleased to mention, to be delivered him in the case my offer could not be accepted.— This cenduct in preferring cefonel Pickering, I was induced te adppt from the high character I had of him, beth as a great military genius, cultivated by anindus- trtous attentien to the study ef war, and as a gentleman pf libe ral educaticn, distinguished zeal, and great methed and activity in business. This character cf him I had from gentlemen pf dis tinction and merit, and on whose judgment I could rely. "When my letter reached colonel Pickering, at first view he thought his situation in respect to public affairs would not per-. mit him to accept the post. That for colonel Lee he sent im mediately to him, who, in consequence of it, repaired to head quarters. By colonel Lee I received a letter from colonel Pick ering, stating more particularly the causes which prevented him accepting the office when it was offered, and assuring me that he would in a little time accommodate his affairs in such a man ner as to come into any military post in which he might be ser viceable, and thought equal to. "Here I am to mark with peculiar satisfaction, in justice to colonel Lee, who has deservedly acquired the reputation of a good, officer, that he expressed a distrust of his abilities to fill the appointment intended fer him; and, pn hearing that colonel Pickering would accept it, he not only offered, but wished to re linquish his claim to it in favor of him, whom he declared he considered, from a very intimate and friendly acquaintance, as a first military character; and knew no gentleman better, or so well qualified for the post among us. Matters being thus cir cumstanced, and colonel Lee pleased with the command he was in, I wrote to colonel Pickering on his return, who accepted the office, and is daily expected. TIMOTHY PICKERING. 275 "In this business I beg congress to be assured though colonel Lee was postponed in the first instance, their recommendation had its due weight, and that no motive, other than regard to tbe service, induced me to prefer colonel Pickering. His acknowl edged abilities and equal zeal — without derogating from the merits of colonel Lee, who holds a high place in my estimation — gave him preference; and I flatter myself the cause will be promoted in his appointment, especially as we shall have two good officers in beu cf one, who, I am persuaded, will do honor to themselves in tbe bne in which they move.'* General Howe having embarked his army at New-Yerk, to proceed, as it was understood, either to Delaware or Chesa peake Bay, general Washington's army marched from New- Jersey to tbe state of Delaware, and thence into tbe adjacent part of Pennsylvania, to oppose the British army then marching from the head of Elk for Philadelphia. On the 11th of September, the battle of Brandywine took place.— After carrying general Washington's orders to a general officer at Chad's ford, colonel Pickering repaired to tbe right, where the battle commenced; and remained by tbe general's side, till its termination at the close of the day. Orders were given for the rendezvous at Chester, whence they marched the next day to the neighbor hood of Philadelphia. When refreshed, and supphed with am munition, the army again crossed the Schuylkill river, and ad vanced to meet general Howe. On the 16th of September, in the morning, information was received of the approach of the enemy. Some detachments were made to re-inforce the ad vanced guards, and keep tbe enemy in check until the Ameri can army should be arrayed for action. General Washington ordered colonel Pickering to the right wing, to aid in forming the order of battle. On his return to the centre, he found the Une not formed. Seeing the commander-in-chief with a number of officers about him, as in consultation, colonel Pickering pressed his horse up to learn the object, It was a question whether they should re ceive the British on the ground then occupied by the American troops, or retire beyond a valley in the rear ef the British, in which the ground was said to be wet, and impassable with ar tillery, which, in case of a defeat, would of course be lost; ex- 276 TIMOTHY PICKERING; cepting that with the left wing commanded by general Greene, through which there was a firm road. By this time the fire of the tropps engaged appeared te be drawing near. At this mo ment, tbe consultation yet ccntinuing, ccfonel Pickering ad dressed general Washingtpn, *'Sir," said ccfonel Pickering, "the advancing ef the British is manifest by the reperts pf mus ketry. The order pf battle is net completed. If we are to fight the enemy on this ground, the troops ought to be imme diately arranged. If we are to take the high ground on the other side ofthe valley, we ought to march immediately, or. the enemy may fall upon us in the midst of our movements." "Let us toove"— was the general's answer. The movement then took place. It had begun to rain. The British army halted. The Americans formed on the high ground beyond the valley, and there remained during a very heavy rainy day. They then marched to a place called the Yellow Springs.— The cartridge boxes were had, and nearly all the ammunition in them was spoiled. Hence it became necessary to keep aloof from the enemy till fresh ammunition could be made up and distributed. On the 5th pf October, general Washington attacked the British trepps at Germantown. After the right wing, comman ded by general Sullivan, had, fer spme time, been briskly enga ged, general Washington sent colonel Pickering forward with an prdor to that pfficer. Having delivered it, he returned te re join the commander-in-chief. It had been found that a party pf the British trepps had taken ppst in a large and strong house, since well known by the name of Chew's house," on which the light field artillery of the Americans could make no impression. This house stood back a few rods from the road. Colonel Pick ering first discovered the enemy to be there by their firing at him from the windows on his return to general Sullivan. On re-joining general Washington, colonel Pickering found a question was agitated, in his presence, whether the whole of the troops then behind should pass on regardless of the enemy in Chew's house, or summon them to surrender. A distinguished officer urged a summcns. He said it weuld be "unmilitary to leave a castle in cur rear." Colonel Pickering answered — ''doubtless that is a ccrrect general maxim ; but it does not apply to this case. We know the extent of this castle (Chew's house;) TIMOTHY PICKERING. 277 and to guard against the danger from the enemy's sallying out and falling en the rear of the trppps, a small regiment may be pested here le watch them; and if they sally put, such a regi ment will take care cf them. But, he added, to summon them to surrender will be useless. We are now in the midst of the battle; and its is3ue is unknown. In this state of uncertainty, and so well secured as the enemy find themselves, they will not regard a summons: they will fire at your flag." However, a subaltern officer, with a white flag and drum, was sent with a summons. He had reached the gate at the road, when a shot from the window gave him a wound of which he died. In December, the army marched to Valley Forge, and took up winter quarters in log huts which theyerected at that place. Before this, the congress, then sitting at York-Tpwn, in Penn; sylvania, had elected cclonel Pickering a member of the conti nental board of war. General Gates and general Mifflin were elected members cf the same board; and before the expiratfon pfthe winter, they all repaired to York-Town, where the board sat. In this station colonel Pickering remained until general Greene resigned the office of quarter-master-general. On the 5th of August, 1789, congress elected him Greene's successor; and he continued in the office of quarter-master-general during the remainder of the war. The project of besieging the city of New- York in 1781, ha ving been relinquished, and the siege of York-Towu, in Virginia, reselved en, cpfonel Pickering received general Washington's orders to prepare immediately for the march of a part ofthe ar my at that place, and for the transportation of artillery, and of ail the stores requisite for the siege. This was done. The event is known to every body. Lord Cornwallis and h's army were made prisoners. This decided the fate of the war. In the suc ceeding winter, the British government, despairing of conquest, abandoned all offensive operations in America: and in Novem ber, 1782, articles of peace were agreed on. From the year 1790 to 1794,cofonel Pickering was charged by general Wash ington, (then president pf the United States,) with several nego- tiattons with the Indian nattons pn pur frontiers: in 1793, in a jpint ccmmisston with general Linceln and Beverly Randolph, Esq. of Virginia, to treat of peace with the western Indians. 36 278 TIMOTHY PICKERING. And in 1794, he was appointed ihe sole agentto adjust all pur disputes with the six nattons; which were terminated with a satisfactory treaty. In the year 1791, general Washington apppinted him post master general. In this effice he ccntinued until the close of the year 1794; when on the resignatien pf geneial Knex, he was ' appeinted secretary cf war. In August, 1796, Mr. Edmund Randplph having resigned the effice ef secretary of state, gene ral Washington gave cofonel Pickering the temporary charge of that department alse. Some time before the meeting pf cengress, which was in December following, he also tendered to colonel Pickering the office cf secretary ef state, which was at once de clined; but as soon as congress assembled, without speaking to colonel Pickering again, Washington nominated him to the se nate to be secretary of state : and the senate approved the nomi nation. He continued in this office until May, 1800; when he was removed by president Adams. At the close ofthe year 1801, colonel Pickering returned to live in Massachusetts — In 1803, the legislature appointed him a senator to represent the state in congress for the residue of the term of Dwight Foster, Esq. who had resigned — In 1805, the legislature again elected him a senator, and for the term of six years. Being in debt for new lands purchased some years before, and by the appreciation of which he had hoped to have made an eventful provision for his eight surviving children, and having no other resources — as soon as he was removed from office in 1800, he carried his family back from Philadelphia into the country; and with one of his sons went into the backwoods of Pennsylva nia, where, with the aid of some laborers, they cleared a few acres ef land, spwed wheat, and built a leg hut, into which he meant the next year te remove his family. — From this condition he was drawn by the kindness of his friends in Massachusetts; by the spontaneous liberality of those friends in taking a trans fer of new lands, in exchange for money, colonel Pickering was enabled to pay his debts, return to his native state, and finally to purchase a small farm in the ceunty pf Essex, pn which he lived many years, cultivating it with his own hands, and literally with the sweat ef his brow. WILLIAM WASHINGTPN. 279 Cpfonel Pickering ccntinued to sustain the pffice cf a senator in cengress, till 1811, when he devcted himself entirely to the labors of agriculture. Soon after he was chosen by the legisla ture of this state, a member of the executive council, and, during the late war, when apprehensions were entertained that the ene my contemplated assailing our towns and cities, he was chosen a member of the board of war for the defence of the state. — In 1814 he was chosen a representative in congress, and held his seat till March, 1817. Colonel Pickering closed his long and brilliant career of pa triotism, integrity, disinterestedness and public service, at Sa lem, January 29, 1829, in the 84th year of his age, after a sick ness of a few days. WILLIAM WASHINGTON, Colonel in the American Army. "He was the eldest son of Baily Washington, Esq. of Stafford county, in the state ef Virginia, and befonged tp a younger branch of the original Washington family. "In the commencement of the war, and at an early period of life, he had entered the army as captain ofa company of infan try under the command of general Mercer. In this corps he had acquired, from actual service, a practical knowledge of the profession of arms. He fought in the battle of Long-Island; and in his retreat through New-Jersey, accempanied his great kinsman, cheerful under the gloom, coolly confronting the danger, and bearing, with exemplary fortitude and firmness, the heavy misfortunes and privations of the time. "In the successful attack on the British post at Trenton, cap tain Washington acted a brilliant and most important part. Per ceiving the enemy about to form a battery, and point it into a narrow street, against the advancing American column, he char ged them at the head of his company, drove them from their guns, 280 WILLIAM WASHINGTON. and thus prevented, certainly, the effusion of much blood, per haps the repulse of the assailing party. In this act of heroism he received a severe wound in the wrist. It is but justice to add, that on this occasion captain Washington was «bly and most gallantly supported by lieutenant Monroe, late president of the United States, who also sustained a wound in the hand. "Shorty after this adventure, Washington was promoted to a majority in a regiment of horse. In this command he was very actively engaged in the northern and middle states, with various success, until the year 1780. Advanced to the rank of lieuten ant-colonel, and placed at the head of a regiment of cavalry, composed of the remains of three that had been reduced by sickness and battle, he was then attached to the army under general Lincoln, engaged in the defence cf Sputh Carolina. "Here his service was varicus, and his ccurse eventful; marked by a few brilliant strokes ef fortune, tut checkered with two se vere disasters. The first of these reverses was at Monk's cor ner, where he himself commanded ; the other at Leneau's Ferry, where he was second in command to colonel White. "Inured to an uncommon extent and variety of hard services, and sufficiently disciplined in the schopl pf adversity, ccfonel Washington, although a young man, was now a veteran in mili tary experience. Added to this, he was scmewhat accustomed tc a warm climate, and had acquired, from actual pbservatien, cpnsiderable knewledge ef that tract cf ccuntry which was to cpnstitute, in future, the theatre ef war. "Such was this cfficer when, at the head pf a regiment pf cavalry, he was attached te the army of generalfGreene. 'One of his partisan exploits, however, the result of a well conceived stratagem, must be succinctly narrated. "Having learnt, during a scouting excursion, that a large bedy • pf loyalists, ccmmanded by ccfonel Rudgley, was pcsted at Rudgley's mill, twelve miles from Camden, he determined en *. attacking them. "Approaching the enemy, he found them sp secured in a large leg barn, surrounded by abattis, as tp be perfectly safe from the cperaticns pf cavalry. "Forbidden thus to attempt his object by direct attack, his usual and favorite mode of warfare, he determined for once to have recourse to policy; HENRY LEE. 281 "Shaping, therefore, a pine log in imitation of a field-piece, mounting it on wheels, and staining it with mud, to make it look like iron, he brought it up in military style, and affected to make arrangements to batter down the barn. "To give the stratagem solemnity and effect, he despatched a flag, warning5 the garrison of the impending destruction, and to prevent bloodshed, summoned them to submission. "Not prepared to resist artillery, colonel Rudgley obeyed the summons; and with a garrison of one hundred and three, rank and file, surrendered at discretion. "In the spring of 1782, colonel Washington married Miss El liot, of Charleston, and established himself at Sandy-hill, her ancestral seat. "After the conclusion of peace, he took np pther ccncern in public affairs than tc appear occasionally in the legislature of South Carolina. "When general Washington accepted the command in chief of the armies of the United States, under the presidency of Mr. Adams, he selected, as one of his staff, his kinsman, colonel William Washington, with the rank of brigadier-general. Had other proof been wanting, this alone was sufficient to decide his military worth. "In private life he was a man of unsullied honor, united to an amiable temper, lively manners, a hospitable disposition, and a truly benevolent heart."* HENRY LEE, Colonel in the American Army. Colonel Lee was by birth a Virginian, and descended from the most distinguished branch of the Lees in that state. He possessed the lofty genius of his family, united to invincible courage and firmness,, and all the noble enthusiasm of the war rior. General Charles Lee, who was beyond question a compe- *Lifa of General Greene. 282 HENRY LEE. tent judge of military talent, averred, "that Henry Lee came a soldier from his mother's womb." General Greene pronounced him "The Eye" of the southern army, and to his counsels gave the most implicit, constant, and unbounded confidence. In the hour of difficulty, was danger to be averted, was prompt exer tion necessary to prevent revolt, crush insurrection, cut off sup plies, harass the enemy, or pursue him to destruction, to no one did he so often turn as to Lee. But his ardor, brilliancy, and daring resolution, constituted but a part of his military worth. In him the fierce impetuosity of youth was finely blended with the higher and more temperate qualities of age. If he had in his temperament something of the electrical fire cf Achilles, it was ennpbled by the polished dig nity ef Hector, and repressed and mederated by the wisdpm pf Nestor. For vigilance, intelligence, decision of character, skill in arms, a spirit of enterprise, and pewers of combinatfon, he had but few equals, youthful as he was, in the armies of his country. As an officer of horse, and a partisan commander, perhaps he had no superior upon earth. That he was justly entitled to this encomium, appears, as well from the extensive calalngue pf his exploits, as from the high ccn- fidence always reposed in him by the commanding officer under whom he served. This is true, no less in relation to Washing ton than Greene. He was the intimate friend and confidant of both. The sentiments of the latter, with regard to him, are forcibly expressed in the following extract of a letter, dated Fe bruary 18th, 1782. "Lieutenant-colonel Lee retires for a time, for the recovery of his health. I am more indebted to this officer than any other, for the advantages gained over the enemy in the eperatiens pf the Jast campaign; and I shculd be wanting in gratitude, net to ac knowledge the impertance of his services, a detail of which is his best panegyric."* *Life of Greene. JOHN LAURELS. 283 JOHN LAURENS, Colonel in the American Army, "Son of Henry Laurens, was born in Charleston, in 1755. In youth he discovered that energy of character which distinguish ed him through life. When a lad, though laboring under a fe ver, on tbe cry of fire, be leaped from bis bed, hastened to the scene of danger, and was, in a few minutes, on the top of the ex posed houses, risking his life to arrest the progress of the flames. This is the more worthy of notice, for precisely in the same way and under a similar, but higher impulse of ardent patriotism, he lost his life in the year 1782. "At the age of sixteen, he was taken to Europe by his father, and there pat under the best means of instruction in Geneva, and afterward in London. "He was entered a student of law at the temple in 1774, and was daily improving in legal knowledge till the disputes be tween Great Britain and her colonies arrested his attention. He soon found that the claims of the mother country struck at the root of bberty in the colonies, and that she perseveringly resol ved to enforce these claims at every hazard. Fain would he have come out to join his countrymen in arms at the commence- mentof tbe contest; but the peremptory order of his father en joined his continuance in England, to prosecute his studies and finish his education. As a dutiful son, he obeyed these orders; bat as a patriot burning with a desire to defend his country, he dismissed Coke, Littleton, and all the tribe of jurists, and substi tuted in their place Vauban, Folard. and other writers on war. He also -availed liimself of the excellent opportunities which London affords of acquiring practical knowledge of the manual exercise, of tactics, and the mechanism of war. Thus instructed, as soon as he was a freeman of legal age, he quitted England for France, and by a circuitous voyage in neutral vessels, and at a considerable risk, made his way good, in the year 1777, to Charleston. "Independence had been declared — the American army was 284 JOHN LAURENS. raised, officered, and in the field. He who, by his attainments in general science, and particularly in the military art, deserved high rank, had no ordinary door left open to serve his country, but by entering in the lowest grade of an army abounding with officers. General Washington, ever attentive to merit, instantly took him into his family, as a supernumerary aid-de-camp. Shortly after this appointment, he had an opportunity of indulg ing his military ardor. He- fought and was wounded in the bat- tie of Germantown, October 4th, 1777. He continued in gene ral Washington's family, in the middle states, till the British had retreated from Philadelphia to New- York, and was engaged in the battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778; "After this, the war being transferred more northwardly, he was indulged in attaching himself to the army on Rhode Island, where the most active operations were expected soon to take place; There he wasintrusted with the command of some light troops. The bravery and good conduct which he displayed on this occasion was honored by congress. "On the 5th of November, 1778, they resolved, 'that John Laurens,- Esq. aid-de-camp to general Washington, be presented with a continental commission of lieutenant-colonel, in testimony of the sense which congress entertain of his patriotic and spirited services as a volunteer in the American army ; and of his brave conduct in several actions, particularly in that of Rhode Island, on the 29th of August last; and that general Washington be di rected, whenever an opportunity shall offer, to give lieutenant- colonel Laurens command agreeable to his rank.' On the next day, a letter from lieutenant-colonel Laurens was read in con gress, expressing 'his gratitude for the unexpected honor which congress were pleased to confer on him by the resolution passed the day before; and the high satisfaction it would have afforded him, could he have accepted it without injuring the rights of the officers in the line ofthe army, and doing an evident injustice to his colleagues in the family of the commander-in-chief — that having been a spectator of the convulsions occasioned in the army by disputes of rank, he held the tranquility of it too dear to be inDtrumental in disturbing it, and therefore entreated congress to suppress the resclve of yesterday, ordering him a commission of lieutenant-colonel, and to accept his sincere thanks for the inten- JOHN LAURENS. 285 ded honor.' Ih tliitf relinquishment there was u. victory gained by patriotism over self-love. Lieutenant-colonel Laurens loved military fame and rank; but he loved his country more, and sacrificed tbe former to preserve the peace and promote the interest of the latter. "In the next year the British directed their military opera tions chiefly against the most southern states. Lieutenant-colo- nel John Laurens was induced by double mptives to repair to Carolina. Thei post of danger was always the object of his preference. His native state was become the' theatre of war. To its aid he repaired, and in May, 1779, with a party of light troops, had a skirmish with the British at Tulifinny. In endea voring to obstruct their progress towards Charleston, he recei ved a wound. This was no sooner cured than he rejoined the army, and was engaged in the unsuccessful attack on Savannah, on the 9th of October of the same year. To prepare for the defence of Charleston, the reduction of which was known to be contemplated by the British, was the next object of attention among the Americans. To this colonel Laurens devoted all the energies of his active mind. "In the progress ofthe siege, which commenced in 1789, the success cf defensive operations became doubtful. Councils of war were frequent — several of the citizens were known to wish for a surrender, as a termination of their toils and dangers. In these councils, and on proper occasions, colonel Laurens advo4 cated the abandonment of the front lines, and to retire to new Ones to be erected within the old ones, and to risk an assault. When these spirited measures were opposed on the suggestion that the inhabitants preferred a capitulation, he declared that he would direct his sword to the heart of the first citizen who would urge a capitulation against the opinion of the comman der-in-chief. "When his superior officers, convinced of the inefficacy of further resistance, were disposed to surrender on terms of capitu lation, he yielded to the necessity ofthe case, and became a pri soner of war. This reverse of fortune opened a new door for serving his country in a higher line than he ever yet had done. He was soon exchanged, and reinstated in a capacity for acting. In expediting his exchange, congress had the ulterior view of 37 286 JOHN LAURENS. sending him a special minister to Paris, that he might urge the necessity of a vigorous co-operation on the part of France with the United States against Great Britain. When this was pro posed to ccfonel Laurens, he reccmmended and urged that cclo- nel Alexander Hamilton should be employed in preference to himself. Congress adhered to their first choice. "Colonel Laurens sailed for France in the latter end of 1780, and there, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, and count de Ver gennes, and marquis de Castries, arranged the plan of the cam paign for 1781, which eventuated in the surrender of lord Corn wallis, and finally in a termination ofthe war. Within six months from the day colonel Laurens left America, he returned to it, and brought with him the concerted plan of combined opera tions. Ardent to rejoin the army, he was indulged with making a verbal report of his negotiations to congress; and in three days set out to resume his place as one of the aids of Washington. The American and French army about this time commenced the siege of York-Town. In the course of it, colonel Laurens, as second in command, with his fellow-aid, colonel Hamilton, assisted in storming and taking' an advanced British redpubt, which expedited the surrender of lord Cornwallis. The arti cles of capitulation were arranged by colonel Laurens on behalf of the Americans. Charleston and a part of South Carolina still remained in the power of the British. Cefonel Laurens thought npthing dpne while any thing remained undone. He, therefore, on the sur render of lord Cornwallis, repaired to South Carolina, and joined the southern army commanded by general Greene. In the course ofthe summer of 1782, he caught a common fever, and was sick in bed when an expedition was undertaken against a party ofthe British, which had gone to'Combakee to carry off rice. Colonel Laurens rose from his sick bed and joined his countrymen. While leading an advanced party, he received a shot, which, on the 27th of August, 1782, at the close of the war, put an end to his valuable life, in the 27lh year of his age. His many virtues have been ever since the subject of eulogy,. and his early fall, of national lamentation. The fourth of July seldom passes withput a tribute to hismempry."* ?Ramsay's History of South Carolina. SETH WARJJEE. 287 SETH WARNER, Colonel in the American Army. "Among the persons who have performed important services to the state of Vermont, colonel Setb Warner deserves to be remembered .with respect. He was born at Woodbury, in the colony of Connecticut, about the year 1744, of honest and res pectable parents. Without any other advantages for an educa tion than what were to be found in the common schools of the town, he was early distinguished by the solidity and extent of his understanding. About the year 1763, his parents purcha sed a tract of land in BeDnihgton, and soon after removed to that town with their family. In the uncultivated state of the country, in the fish with which the rivers and ponds were fur nished, and in the game with which the woods abounded, young Warner found a variety of objects suited to his favorite inclina tions and pursuits ; and he soon became distinguished as a fortu nate and indefatigable hunter. "His father, captain Benjamin Warner, had a strong inclina tion to medicinal inquiries and pursuits; and agreeably to the state of things in new settlements, had to look for many of his medicines in the natural virtues of the plants and roots that were indigenous to the country. His son Seth frequently attended him in these botanical excursions, contracted something of his fathers taste, for the business, and acquired more information of the nature and properties of the indigenous plants and vegeta bles, than any other man in the country. By this kind of knowl edge he became useful to tbe families in the new settlements, and administered relief in many cases where no other medical assistance could at that time be procured. By such visits and practice, he became known to most of the famibes en tbe west side of the Green mountains; and was generally esteemed by them a man highly useful, both on account of his information and humanity. "About the year 1763, a scene began to open which gave a new turn to his active and enterprising spirit. The lands on 288 SETH WARNER. which the settlements were made had been granted by the go-, vernors of New-Hampshire. The government of New-York claimed jurisdiction to the eastward as far as Connecticut river; denied the authority of the governor of New-Hampshire to make any grants to the west of Connecticut river; and announced to the inhabitants that they were within the territory of New-York, and had no legal title to the lands on which they had settled. The controversy became very serious between the two govern ments; and after some years spent in altercation, I\ew-York pro cured a decision of George III. in their favor. This order was dated July 20, 1764, and declared 'the western banks of the river Connecticut, from where it enters the province of Massa chusetts bay, as far north as the 48th degree of northern lati tude, to be the boundary bne between the said two provinces of New-Hampshire and New- York.' No sooner was this de cree procured, than the governor of New- York proceeded to make new grants of the lands which the settlers had before fairly bought of the crown, and which had been chartered to them in the king's name and authority by the royal governor of New-Hampshire. All became a scene of disorder and danger. The new patentees under New- York brought actions of eject ment against the settlers. The decisions of the court of Alba ny were always in favor ofthe New- York patentees; and noth ing remained for the inhabitants but to buy their lands over again, er to give up the labers and earnings of their whole lives to the new claimants under titles from New- York. "In this scene of oppression and distress, the settlers disco vered the firm and vigorous spirit of manhood. All that was left to them was either to yield up their whole property to a set of unfeeling land-jobbers, or to defend themselves and property by force. They wisely and virtuously chose the latter; and, by a kind of common consent, Ethan Allen and Seth W'arner be came their leaders. No man's abilities and talents could have been better suited to this business than Warner's. When the authority of New- York proceeded with an armed force to at tempt to execute their laws, Warner met them with a bpdy of Green Mountain Bpys, properly armed, full ef resplution, and so formidable in numbers and courage, that the governor of New- York was obliged to give up this method of proceeding. When SETH WARNER. 289 the sheriff came to extend his executions, and eject the settlers from their farms, Warner would npt suffer him te proceed. Spies were empleyed to procure intelligence, and prempte divi sion ameng the peeple; when any of them were taken, Warner caused them to be tried by some of the most discreet of the peo ple, and, if declared guilty, to be tied to a tree and whipped. An officer came to take Warner by force; he considered it as an affair of open hostility, engaged, wounded, and disarmed the officer; but, with the honpr and spirit pf a spldier, spared the life of an enemy he had subdued. These services appeared in a very different light to the settlers and te the gevernment ef New- Yprk; the first cpnsidered him as an eminent patriet and hero; to the other he appeared as the first of villains and rebels. To put an end to all further exertions, and to bring him to an exem plary-punishment, the government of New- York, on March 9th, 1774, passed an act of outlawry against him: and a proclama tion was issued by W. Tryon, of New- York, offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who should apprehend him. These proceedings of New-York were beheld by him with contempt; and they had no other effect upon the settlers, than to unite them more firmly in their opposition to that government, and in their attachment to their own patriotic leader thus wantonly •proscribed. "In services of so dangerous and important a nature, Warner was engaged from the year 1765 to 1775. That year a scene of the highest magnitude and consequence opened upon the world. On the 19th of April, the American war was begun by the Bri tish troops at Lexington. Happily for the country, it was com menced with such circumstances of insolence and cruelty, as left no room for the people of America to doubt what was the course which they ought to pursue. The time was come, in which to tal subjection, or the horrors of war, must take place. All Ame rica preferred the latter; and the people of the New-Hampshire grants immediately undertopk tp secure the British forts at Ticcn-: derega and Crown Ppint. Allen and Warner immediately en gaged in the business. Allen tepk the ccmmand, and Warner raised a body pf excellent trepps in the vicinity pf Bennington, and both marched against Ticonderoga. They Surprised and took that fortress on the morning of the 10th of May ; and War- 290 SETH WARNER. ner was sent the same day with a detachment of the tropps to secure Crown Ppint. He effected the business and secured the garriscn, with all the warlike stores, fer the use ef the ccntinent. "The same year Warner received a ccmmisston from cengress to raise a regiment, tp assist in the reductien pf Canada. He en gaged in the business with his usual spirit pf activity, raised his regiment chiefly ameng his pld acquaintances and friends, the Green Mountain Bpys, and jpined the army under the cemmand pf general Mentgomery. The honorable Samuel Safford, of Bennington, was his lieutenant-colonel. Their regiment con ducted with great spirit, and acquired high applause in the ac tion at Longueil, in which the troops designed for the relief of St. John's, were totally defeated and dispersed, chiefly by the troops under the command of colonel Warner. The campaign ended about the 20th of November, in the course of which Ti conderoga, Crown. Point, Chamblee, St. John's, Montreal, and a fleet of eleven sail of vessels, had been captured by the Ameri can arms. No man in this campaign had acted with more spirit and enterprise than colonel Warner. The weather was now become severe, and Warner's men were too miserably clothed to bear a winter's campaign in the severe climate of Canada: they were accerdingly npw discharged by Mcntgpmery, with particular marks ef respect, and the mest affectionate thanks for their meritoripus services. "Warner returned with his men te the New-Hampshire grants, but his mind was mere than ever engaged in the cause ef his ccuntry. Mcntgpmery, with a part pf his army, pressed en to Quebec, and, cn December 31st, was slain in an attempt to car ry the city by storm. This event gave an alarm te all the north- ern part pfthe colonies; and it became necessary to raise a re inforcement to march to Quebec in the midst of winter. The difficulty of the business suited the genius and ardor of War ner's mind. He was at Woodbury, in Connecticut, when he heard the news of Montgomery's defeat and death: he instantly repaired to Bennington, raised a body of men, and marched iu the midst of winter to join the American troops at Quebec. The campaign during the winter proved extremely distressing to the Americans: in want of comfortable clothing, barracks, and provisions, most of them were taken by the small-pox, and SETH WARNER. 291 several died. At the opening pf the spring, in May, 1776, a large bpdy pf British tropps arrived at Quebec, te relieve the garrison. The American trepps were forced tc abandpn the blockade, with circumstances cf great distress and confusion. Warner chpse the mpst difficult part cf the business, remaining always with the rear, picking up the lame and diseased,' assist ing and encouraging those who were the most unable to take care of themselves, and generally kept but a few miles in ad vance of the British, who were rapidly pursuing the retreating Americans from post to post. By steadily pursuing this con duct, he brought off most ofthe invalids; and with this corps of the infirm and diseased, he arrived at Ticonderoga, a few days after the body of the army had taken possession of that post. "Highly approving his extraordinary exertions, the American congress, on July 5th, 1776, the day after thuy had declared in dependence, resolved to raise a regiment out of the troops which had served with reputation in Canada. Warner was appointed colonel, Safford lieutenant-colonel of this regiment; and most of the pther pfficers were perscns whp had been distinguished by their opposition to the claims and proceedings of New- York. By this appointment he was again placed in a situation perfect ly agreeable to his inclination and genius; and in conformity to his orders he repaired to Ticonderoga, where he remained till the close of the campaign. "On January 16, 1777, the convention of the New-Hampshire grants declared the whole district to be a sovereign and indepen dent state, to be known and distinguished ever after by the name of Vermont. The committee of safety in New- York were then sitting, and on January 20th, they announced the transaction to congress, complaining in high terms of the conduct of Vermont, censuring it as a dangerous revolt and opposition to lawful author ity; and at the same time remonstrating against the proceedings of congress in appointing Warner to the command of a regiment independent of the legislature, and within the bounds of that state; 'especially,' said they, 'as this colonel Warner hath been constantly and invariably opposed to the legislature, of this state; and hath been, on that account, proclaimed an outlaw by the late government thereof. It is absolutely necessary to recall the commissions given to colonel Warner, and the officers under 292 SETH WARNER. him, as nothing else will do us j ustice.' No measures were taken' by congress, at that time, either to interfere in the civil contest between the two states, or to remove the colonel from his com mand. Anxious to effect this purpose, the convention of New- York wrote further on the subject, on March 1st, and amcng pther things, declared, 'that there was net the least probability that colonel Warner 'could raise such a number of men as would be an object of public concern.' Congress still declined to dis miss so valuable an officer from their service. On June 23d, congress was obliged to take up the controversy between New- York and Vermont; but, instead of proceeding to disband the colonel's regiment, on June 30th, they resolved, 'that the reason which induced congress to form that corps, was, that many offi cers of different states who had served in Canada, and alleged that they could soon raise a regiment, but were then unprovided for, might be re-instated in the service of the United States.' Nothing can give us a more just idea of the sentiments which •the American congress entertained ofthe. patriotic and military virtues of the cofonel, than their refusing to give him up te the repeated selicitations and demands of so respectable and power ful a state as that of New-York. "The American army stationed at Ticonderoga were forced to abandon that fortress on July 6, 1777, in a very precipitate and irregular manner. The Colonel, with his regiment, retreated alcng the western part ef Vermont, through the towns of Orwell, Sudbury, and Hubardten. At the last ef these towns, the ad vanced cerps pf the British army evertopk the rear pf the Ameri can trepps, pn the merning pf the 7th pf July. The American army, all but part cf three regiments, were gene forward; these were part of Hale's, Francis', and Warner's regiments. The enemy attacked them with superior numbers, and the highest prospect of success. Francis and Warner opppsed thein with great spirit and viger, and np officers er tropps cculd have dis covered more courage and firmness than they displayed through the whole acticn. Large reinforcements nf the enemy arriving, it became impcssible to make any effectual opposition. Francis fell in a most honorable discharge pf his duty. Hale surrendered with his regiment. Surrounded pn every side by the enemy, but calm and undaunted, celonel Warner fought his way through SETH WARNER; 293 all opposition brought off the troops that refused to capitulate with Hale, checked the enemy in their pursuit, and, contrary to all expectations, arrived safe with his troops at Manchester. To the northward pf that town the whole country was deserted. The ccfonel determined tc make a stand at that place; encoura ged by his example and firmnest, a body of the militia soon join ed him; and he was once more in a situation to protect the in habitants, harass the enemy, and break up the advanced parties. "On the 16(h of August, the vicinity of Bennington became the seat of a memorable battle. Cofonel Baum had been des patched by general Burgpyne to attack the American trepps and destroy the magazines at Bennington. General Stark, who cpmmanded at that place, had intelligence of the approach of the enemy, and sent orders, on the morning of the 16tb, to colo nel Warner, at Manchester, to march immediately to his assist ance. In the • meantime, Stark, with the troops which had assembled at Bennington, had attacked the enemy under cplonel Baum, and, after a severe actien, had captured the whole body. Just as the action was finished, intelligence was received that a large re-inforcement of the enemy had arrived. Fatigued and exhausted by so long and severe an action, Stark was doubtful whether it was possible for his (ropps to enter immediately upen anpther battle with a fresh body of the enemy. At that criti cal moment Warner arrived with his troops from Manchester. Mortified that he had not been in the action, and determined to " have some part in the glory of the day, he urged Stark imm'edi- atelyto commence another action. Stark consented, and the colonel instantly led on his men to battle. The Americans ral lied from every part of the field, and the second action became as fierce and decisive as the first. The enemy gave way in every direction; great numbers were slain, and the rest saved themselves altogether by the darkness of the night. Stark ascribed the last victory very much to colonels Warner and Herrick; and spoke in the highest terms of their superior infor mation and activity, as that to which he principally owed bis success. The success at Benningtcn gave a decisive turn tc the affairs ef that campaign. Stark, Warner, and the other offi cers, with their troops, joined the army under general Gates. Victory every where followed the attempts of the northern 38 294 SETH WARNER. army; and the campaign terminated in the surrender of Bur goyne and his whole army at Saratoga, on October 17th, 1777. "The contest in the northern department being in a great measure decided by the capture of Burgoyne, Warner had no further opportunity to discover his prowess in defence of his be loved state, but served occasionally at different places on Hud son river, as the circumstances ofthe war required, and always with reputation. Despairing of success in the northern parts, the enemy carried the war into the southern states; and neither New- York nor Vermont any longer remained the places of dis tinguished enterprise. But such had been the fatigues and ex ertions of the colonel, that when he returned to his family in Bennington, his constitution, naturally firm and vigorous, ap peared to be worn down, and nature declined under a complica tion of disprders, pccasicned by the excessive labors and suffer ings he had passed through. "Most pf thpse men whp have been engaged with uncommon ardpr in the cause cf their cpuntry, have been se swallpwed up with the patrietic passion as to neglect that attentien to their private interests which pther men pursue as the ruling passion. Thus it proved with colonel Warner: intent at first upon saving a state, and afterwards upon saving a country, his mind was so entirely engaged in those pursuits that he had not made that provision for his family which, tp mpst of the politicians and land-. jabbers, was the ultimate end ef all their measures and exer- tfons. With a view the better to suppprt his family, he remo ved to Woodbury, where, in the year 1785, he ended an active and useful life, in high estimation among his friends and coun trymen. "His family had derived little or np estate from his services. After his death, they applied te the general assembly of Ver mont for a grant of land. The assembly, with a spirit of justice and generosity, remembered the services of colonel Warner,, took up the petition, and granted a valuable tract of land to his widow and family; a measure highly honorable to the memory of colonel Warner and of that assembly."* *Williams' Vermont. ISAAC HAYNE. 295 ISAAC HAYNE, Colonel in the American Army. "This gentleman had been a distinguished and very active officer in the American service, previous to the subjugation of Charleston. When this event took place, he found himself called to a separation from his family, a dereliction of his pro perty, and submission to the conqueror.. In this situation he thought it his duty to become a voluntary prisoner, and take his parole. On surrendering himself, he offered to engage and stand bound on the principles of honpr, to do nothing prejudicial to the British interest until he was exchanged; but his abilities and services were cf such censideration to his country, that he was refused a parole, and told he must become a British sub ject, or submit to close confinement. "His family was then in a distant part of the country, and in great distress by sickness, and from the ravages of the royalists in their neighborhood. Thus he seemed impelled to acknowl edge himself the subject of a government he had relinquished from the purest principles, er renpunce his tenderest connex- fons, and leave them witheutappssibility of assistance, and at a mement when he heurly expected to hear pf the death of an af fectionate wife, ill ofthe small-pox. "In this state ef anxiety, he subscribed a declaraticn pf his al legiance tc the king ef Great Britain, with this express excep- tton, that he shpuld never be required to take arms against his country. Npt withstanding this, he was spon and repeatedly called uppn to arm in suppprt of a government he detested, or to submit to the severest punishment. Brigadier-general Patter son, commandant of the garrison, and the intendant of the Bri tish police, a Mr. Simpson, had both assured colonel Hayne that no such thing would be required; and added, 'that when the royal army could not defend a country without the aid of its in habitants, it would be time to quit it.'* ?See a representation of colonel Hayne's case, laid before'eongress after his death. 296 ISAAC HAYNE. "Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in British ser vice, after assurances that this weuld never be required, as a breach of contract, and a release in the eye of conscience, from any obligation on his part. Accordingly he topk the first ep- pprtunity pf resuming his arms as an American, assumed the ccmmand of his own regiment; and all fond of their former commander, colonel Hayne marched with a defensible body to the relief of his countrymeji, then endeavoring to drive the Bri tish partisans, and keep them within the environs of Charleston. He very unfortunately, in a short time, fell into thev hands ofa strong British party, sent eut for the reccvery pf a favprite offi- , . . cer* whe had left the American cause, and become a devctee te the British gpvernment. "As soon as cefonel Hayne was captured, he was clcsely im- prisened- This was en the 26th ef July. He was nptified the same day, that a court cf pfficers would assemble the next day, to determine in what point pf view he eught tp be censidered. On the 29ih, he was informed that in censequence cf a ccurt pf inquiry held the day before, lerd Rawdon and lieutenant- cojonel Balfour had resolved upon his execution within two days. "His astonishment at these summary and illogal proceedings can scarcely be conceived, The sentence seized all classes of people with horror and dismay. A petition headed by the Bri tish governor Ball, and signed by a number of royalists, was pre-* sented in his behalf, but was totally diregarded. The ladies of Charleston, both whigs and tories, npw united in a petitfon to lord Rawdpn, couched in the mest eloquent and moving lan guage, praying that the valuable life of colonel Hayne might be spared; but this also was treated with neglect. It was new pro-. posed that ccfonel Hayne's children (the mcther had recently expired with the small-pcx) should, in their mourning habili ments be present to plead for the life of their pnly surviving kj x^ parent:— being introduced into his presence they fell en their knees, and with clasped hands and weeping eyes they lisped their father's name, and plead mest earnestly for his life. (Rea. ?This was general Williamson, captured within several miles of the city , by a small reconnoitering party sent out by colonel Hayne. ISAAC HAYNE. 297 der ! what is your antici patien ? Dp y pu imagine that ford Raw don, pitying their motherless condition, tenderly embraced these afflicted children, and lestored to them the fend embrace cf their father? Np!! The unfeeling man still remained inexprable; he suffered even these little pnes to plead in vain!) His sen, a yputh of thirteen, who was permitted to stay with his father in prison, beholding his only parent loaded with irons, and con demned to die, was overwhelmed with grief and sorrow ? 'Why,' said he, 'my son, will you thus break your father's heart with unavailing sorrow? have I not often told you that we came into this world to prepare for a better life? my dear boy your father is prepared, instead then of weeping, rejoice my son, that my troubles are so near an end. To-morrow I set out for immor tality. You will accompany me to the place of my departure, and when I am dead, take me and bury me by the side of your mother,' The youth fell on his neck. Oh, my father, my fa ther! I will die with you ! Colonel Hayne would have returned the strong embrace pf his son, but alas ! his hands were ccnfined with irons. 'Live,' said he, 'my sen, live to honpr Gpd by a gpod life — live to serve your country, and Uve to take care of your brother apd little sisters!' The next morning colonel Hayne was conducted to the place of execution. His son ac companied him. Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father strengthened himself and said — Now show yourself a man! That tree is the boundary of my life's sorrows. Beyond that the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. Dont lay too much at heart, my separation from you — it will be but short. It was but lately your mother died. To-day I die, and you, my son, though but young, must soon follow us.' 'Yes, my father,' replied the broken hearted youth, '1 shall shortly follow you, for indeed I feel that I cannot live long.' On seeing, therefore, his father in the hands of the executioner, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like one transfixed and mottonless with hprror. Till then he had wept incessantly, but as he saw that sight, the fountain pf his tears was staunched and he never wept mere. He died insane, and in his last mo ments often called on his father in terms that brought tears from the hardest heart. 298 JOHN EAGAn HOWARD. JOHN EAGAR HOWARD, Colonel in the American Army. For gallantry and firmness, decision of character and sound judgment, colonel Howard was not exceeded by any officer of his rank in the service of his country. With great intelligence and skill in arms, he was one of those heroic spirits on whom ge neral Greene reposed his hopes, during the time he was deepest in adversity, and in his high determination to recover the south, or perish in the attempt. He was born June 4th, 1752, near the city of Baltimore. His parental ancestors were from England, his maternal from Ireland. Burning with the generous enthusiasm of the time, Howard was among the first to enrol himself under the standard of Ame rican liberty. He was first in commission as a captain, and af terward as major, but he does not appear to have been much in action, until he took his station at the head of a regiment in the southern army. Accomplished in tactics, and ripe in experience, although only now in his twenty-seventh year, he was, in all respects, fit ted for the operations of the field. Accordingly, no sooner did an opportunity for action present itself, than his valor as a soldier, and his reputation as a com mander, became conspicuous in the midst of the accomplished and the brave. His brightest laurel was gathered at the Cowpens, where, as suming to himself the respensibility pf the act, he charged with out orders, and at the peint of tbe bayenet, a party pf the enemy superfor in number to his pwn ccmmand, and consisting pf the flower of the British army.* After having thrown the British line into confusion by his fire and unexpected charge; he called out to them, in a loud and cemmanding voice, to surrender, and they should receive "good quarters." ?Life of General Greene. JPHN EAOAR HOWARD. 299 On this summpns five hundred ef them instantly threw down their arms. His interview, immediately after the acticn, with general Mergan, the cemmanding officer, was eminently interesting; and were other evidence wanting, shows on how precarious a footing stands the reputation and the life of a warrior. "My dear Howard," said Mprgpn, ccrdially pressing his hand as he spoke, "ypu have given me victory, and I love and honor you; but had you failed in your charge, which you risked with out orders, I should have shot you." Previously to this, colonel Howard had. distinguished himself among those who, by their gallantry and good conduct, had sus tained the character of the American arms, and prevented the utter destruction ofthe forces, in the battle near Camden, where Gates was defeated. Nor wag he entitled to less applause for the spirit and judg ment which he afterward displayed at Guilford, Hobkirk's Hill, and the Eutaw Springs; at the latter of which he was severely wounded. But a letter from general Greene, dated November 14th, 1781, to a friend in Maryland, is conclusive as to the military reputation of colonel Howard. "This will be handed to you (says the general) by colonel Howard, as good an officer as the world affords. He hai great ability, and the best disposition to promote the service. My own obligations to him are great — the public's still more so. He deserves a statue of gold no less than the Roman and Gre cian heroes. He has been wounded, but has happily recovered, and now goes home to pay a little attention to his private affairs, and to take the charge of the fifth Maryland regiment, recruit ing in your state. With great respect and esteem, I am, dear sir, yours, N. GREENE."* On the conclusion of the war, he married Miss Chew, daugh ter of the honorable Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia Contented and happy in domestic life, and much occupied *Life of Greene. 300 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. with his private affairs, he never sought political honors, but left to others to govern the country which he, by his valor, contribu ted to set free. He died on the 12th of October, 1827,. ou his patrimonial es tate, surrounded by a large and respectable family, pre-eminent in affluence, and passed the evening of his life in that dignified and felicitous retirement which a high and unsullied reputation, a peaceful conscience, a cultivated intellect, and polished man ners alone can bestow. WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE, Colonel-commandant of the State Cavalry of North Carolina. Colonel Davie was born in the village of Egremont, in En gland, on the 20th of June, 1759. His father, visiting South Carolina soon after the peace of 17G3, brought with him this son; and returning to England, confided him to the Rev. Wil liam Richardson, his maternal uncle: who becoming much at tached to his nephew, not only took charge of his education, but addpted him as his son and heir. At the proper age, Wil liam was sent to an a'cademy in North Carolina; from whence he was, after a few years, removed to the college of Nassau-hall, in Princeton, New-Jersey, then becoming the resort of most of the southern youth, under the auspices of the learned and res pectable doctor Witherspoon. Here he finished his education, graduating in the autumn of 1776, a year memorable in our mili tary as well as civil annals. Returning home, young Davie found himself shut out for a time from the army, as the commissions for the troops just levied had been issued. He went to Salisbury, where he commenced the study of law. The war continuing, contrary to the expec tations which generally prevailed when it began, Davie could no longer resist the wish to plant himself among the defenders of his country. Inducing a worthy and popular friend, rather too old for military service, to raise a tropp of dragoons, as the WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 301 readiest mode of accomplishing his object, Davie obtained a lieutenancy in this troop. Without delay the captain joined the seuthern army, and soon afterward returned home on a fur lough. The command of the troop devolving on lieutenant Da vie, it was, at his request, annexed to the legion of ccunl Pulaski', where captain Davie" ccntinued, until prompted by major-gene- ral Lincoln to the statien pf brigade-majer pf cavalry. In this pffice Davie served until the affair at Stono, devoting his leisure to the acquirement of professional knowledge, and rising fast in the esteem of the general and army. When Lincoln at tempted to dislodge lieutenant-colonel Maitland from his en trenched camp on the Stono, Davie received a severe wound, and was removed from camp, to the hospital in Charleston, where he was confined five months. Soon after his recovery, he was empowered by the govern ment of North Carolina to raise a small legionary corps, ccn- sisting pf pne troop pf dragppns and twp companies of mounted infantry; at the head of which he was placed with the rank of major. Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, in whose equip ment he expended the last remaining shilling ef an estate be queathed te him by his uncle, he took the field, and was sedu lously engaged in protecting the country between Charlotte and Camden from the enemy's predatory excursions. On the fatal 19th of August, he was hastening with his corps to join the army, when he met our dispersed aud flying troops. He nevertheless continued to advance toward the conqueror; and by his pru dence, zeal, and vigilance, saved a few of our wagons, and many of our stragglers. Acquainted with the movement of Sumpter, and justly apprehending that he would be destroyed unless speedily advised of the defeat of Gates, he despatched imme diately a courier to that officer, communicating what had hap pened, performing, in the midst of distress and . confusion, the part of an experienced captain. So much was his ccnduct respected by the gevemment pf Nprth Carolina, that he was in the course of September pro moted to the rank ef ccfonel-ccmmandant of the cavalry of the state. At the two gleomiest epochs cf the southern war, soon after 39 302 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. the fall of Charleston and tbe overthrow of Gates, it was the good fortune of colonel Davie to be the first to shed a gleam through the surrounding darkness, and give hope to the country by the brilliancy of his exploits. In one instance, without loss or injury on his part, he entirely destroyed an escort of provi sions, taking forty prisoners, with their horses and arms. In the other, under the immediate eye of a large British force, which was actually beating to arms to attack him, he routed a party stronger than'his own, killing and wounding sixty of the enemy, and carrying off with him ninety-six horses and one hund red and twenty stand of arms. When lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a small village in North Carolina, colonel Davie, at the head of bis detachment, threw himself 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 Tarlton's legion formed the British van, led by ma jor Hanger, the commander himself being confined by sickness. When that celebrated corps had advanced near to the centre of the village, where the Americans were posted, Davie poured into it so destructive a fire, that it immediately wheeled and re tired in disorder. Being rallied on the commons, ahd again led on to the charge, it received on the same spot another fire with similar effect. Lord Cornwallis witnessing the confusion thus produced among his chcicest troops, rode up in person, and in a tone of dissatis faction upbraided the legion with unsoldierly conduct, reminding it of its former exploits and reputatfon. Pressed en 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, but in vain. Another fire from the American marksmen killed several of their officers, wounded major Hanger, and re pulsed them again with increased confusion. The main body of the British being now within musket shot the American leader abandoned the contest. It was by strokes like these that he seriously crippled and in- WILUAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 303 timidated his enemy, acquired an elevated standing in the esti- matfon pf his friends, and served very essentially the interest of freedom. In this statton he was found by general Greene, en assuming the command of the southern army ; whose attention had been pccupicd from his entrance into Nprth Carolina, in remedying the diserder in the quarter-master and cemmissary departments. Te the first, Carrington had been called; and Davie was naw in duced te take upen himself the last, much as he preferred the station he then "possessed. At the head of this department, colo nel Davie remained throughout the trying campaign which fol lowed, contributing greatly by his talents, his zeal, his local knowledge, and his influence, to the maintenance of the difficult and successful operatfons which folfowed. While before Ninety- Six, Greene, foreseeing the difficulties again te be enccunter- ed in censequence cf the accessicn pf force to the enemy by the arrival of three regiments from Ireland, determined te send a cenfidential efficer to the legislature pf Nprth Carolina, then in sessfon, tp represent tp them his relative cendi tton, and to urge their adeption of effectual measures without delay, for the col- lectien pf magazines pf provisions, and the re-inforcement ofthe army. Colonel Davie was selected by Greene for this impor tant mission, and immediately repaired to the seat of govern ment, where he ably and faithfully exerted himself te give effect to the views ef his general. The effect pf the capture ef Cprnwallis. assuring the quick return pf peace, ccfonel Davie returned heme, and resumed the prefesston with the practice of the law in the town of Halifax, on the Roanoke. He was afterward governor of North Carolina, and one of our ambassadors to France at a very portentous conjuncture. The war in the South was ennobled by great and signal in stances of individual and partisan valor and enterprise. Scarce ly de the mest high drawn heroes ef fictton surpass, in their da rings and extraerdinary achievements, many ef the real enes pf Pickens, Matien, Sumpter, and Davie, whe figured in the seuth- ern states during the cenflict cf the revelutfon. Cpfonel Davie, altheugh ypunger by several years, possessed talents of a higher order, and was much more accomplished in education and manners, than either ef bi3 three cpmpetitors for 304 HENRY DEARBPRN. fame. Fpr the cpmeliness ef his person, his martial air, his ex cellence in horsemanship, and his consummate powers cf field elequence, he had scarcely an equal in the armies cf the coun try. But his chief excellence lay in the magnanimity and gen erosity ef his spul, his daring ceurage, his vigilance, and address, and his unrelaxing activity and endurance ef toil. If he was less frequently engaged in actual cembat than either of his three compeers, it was not because he was inferior to either of them in enterprise er tove ef battle. His district being mere interior, was, at first, less frequently invaded by British detachments. When, however, Icrd Cprnwallis ultimately advanced inte that quarter, his sccuts and foraging parties found in colonel Davie and his brave associates, as formidable an enemy as they had ever encountered. HENRY DEARBORN, Colonel in the American Army. The subjoined sketch of the revolutionary services rendered by general Dearborn, is collected from his brothers in arms. When the British sent a detachment to destroy the military stores in the vicinity of Lexington, Mr. Dearborn, then a young gentleman in the study of medicine, resided at Nottingham, in New-Hampshire. Animated by the patriotic resistance ofthe Americans, immediately upon being informed of the battle, he assembled the inhabitants, and observed that the time had now arrived when the rights ofthe American people must be vindi cated by arms, or an odious despotism would forever be rivetted upon them. The militia had already gathered, and, impressed with these sentiments, a company of sixty-five men, armed and accoutred, paraded at 10 o'clock of the next day after the bat tle of Lexington. Dearbern advanced with them in such ra pidity that they reached Cambridge cemmpn, a distance pf fifty miles, in twenty hnurs. After remaining at Cambridge fer seve ral days, there being ne immediate eccaston for their services, they returned. Dearbern was sppn after commissiened a cap- HENRY DEARBORN. 305 tain in pne pf the New-Hampshire regiments, under the com- mand of colonel Stark, and such was his popularity, and the con fidence of the people in his bravery and conduct, that in ten days from the time he received his commission, he enlisted a full company, and again marched to Cambridge. On the gloripus seventeenth of June, informatfon was received at Mystic, (now Medford,) where Dearborn was stationed, that the British were preparing to come cut from Boston and storm the works which had been thrown up on Breed's Hill, the night before, by the Americans. The regiment to which he was attached was immediately pa raded and marched to Charlestown-Neck. Dearbern's compa ny cemposed the flank guard to the regiment. They crossed the Neck under a galling fire from the British men of war and floating batteries, and having sustained some loss, arrived at the heights. The action soon commenced, and the Americans stood their ground until their ammunition was expended, and they could no longer beat off the British bayonets with the but-ends of their muskets. Dearborn carried a fusee into the battle of Bunker's Hill, and fired regularly with his men. The next arduous service in which he was engaged, was the expedition to Canada, through the Wilds of Kennebec, under the command of general Arnold. He was not ordered on this dangerous and difficult service, but persuaded a captain who was drafted, to exchange places with him. Thirty-two days were employed in traversing the hideous wilderness between the settlements on the Kennebec and the Chaudiere, in which every hardship and fatigue of which human nature is capable, was endured indiscriminately by the officers and troops. On the highlands, between the Kennebec and St. Lawrence, the remnant of provistons was divided among the companies, who were directed to make the best of their way in separate divi sions to the settlement of Chaudiere. The last payment of fopd in Dearbprn's cpmpany was shprtly censumed, and he was re duced tc the extremity pf dividing a large dog which accompa nied him, with his associates. When they, reached the Chau diere, from colds, extreme hardship, and want of sustenance, his strength failed him, and he was unable to walk but a short dis tance without walking into the river to refrigerate and stimulate 306 HENRY DEARBPRN. his limbs. With difficulty he reached a pcpr hut pn the Chau diere, where he told his men he ceuld accompany them no fur ther, animated them forward to a glorious discharge of their du ty, and would suffer no one to remain to attend him in his ill ness. His company left him with tears in their eyes, expecting to see him no more. Dearborn was here seized with a violent fever, during which his life was in danger for ten days, without physician or medicine, and with scarcely the common necessa ries of life. His fine constitution at last surmounted his disease, and as soon as he was able to mount a horse, he proceeded to Point Levi, crossed over to Wolf's Cove, and made his unex- . pected appearance at the head of his company a few days be fore the assault on Quebec. At four o'clock in the morning of the 31st December, in a severe snow-storm, and in a climate that vies with Norway in tempest and in intense cold, the at tack was commenced. Dearborn was attached to the corps under general Arnold, who was wounded early in the action, and carried from the field. Morgan succeeded to the command, and "with a voice louder than the tempest," animated the troops as they stormed the first barrier and entered the town. Montgomery had already bled on immortal ground, and his di vision being repulsed, the corps under Morgan was exposed tp a sanguinary but unavailing cpntest. From the windews pf the stere-heuses, each a castle, and frcm the tops pf the parapets, a destructive fire was peured uppn the assailants. In vain was the secend barrier gained by scaling ladders; double ranks of sol diers presented a forest of bayonets below, and threatened ine vitable destruction to any one who should leap from the walls. Dearborn maintained for a long time this desperate warfare, un til at last he and the remnant of his company were overpewered by a sertieef twp hundred men, with field-pieces, whe attacked him in front and rear, in a short street, and compelled him to surrender. ¦ The whele cerps, priginally led on by Arnold, were killed or made prisoners of war. Dearborn was now put into rigid confinement, with a number of pther officers, who were not allowed to converse with each other unless in the presence of the officer ofthe guard. While in prison he was urgently solicited by the English officers to join the Bri tish ; was promised a colonel's commission if he would accept, and • HENRY DEARBORN. 307 was assured, if he refused, that he would be sent out to En gland in the spring, and be inevitably hanged as a rebel. The only reply he made to their solicitations or menaces, was that he had taken up arms in defence of the liberties and the rights of his country; that he never would disgrace himself, or dis honor his profession, by receiving any appointment under Great Britain, but he was ready to meet death in any shape rather than relinquish the glorious cause he had espoused. • In May, 1776, colonel Meigs and himself were permitted to return on their parole. They were sent round to Halifax in a ship of war, and treated with the usual contempt and hauteaur of English officers, who would not deign to speak to Americans, nor even allow them to walk the same side ofthe quarter-deck with themselves. They were put ashore in Penobscot bay, and returned by land. In the March following, Dearborn was ex changed, and appointed major to the third New-Hampshire re giment, commanded by colonel Scammell. In May, he arrived at Ticonderoga, and was constantly in the rear guard, skirmish ing with the British and Indians, in the retreat of St. Clair, when pressed on by Burgoyne's army. When the advance of Burgoype was checked, and he en camped on the heights of Saratoga, Dearborn was appointed lieutenant-colonel commandant of a partis an corps of three hun dred men, stationed in front, to act as a corps of observation in concert with Mcrgan's riflemen. In the fampus engagement ef the 19th pf September, ccfonel Mergan himself commenced the encounter by driving in the out-ppsts and picket-guards ef the right wing pf the British army, which was cemmanded by gen eral Burgpyne in persen. In the hard fought battle pf the 7th pf October,- he was in the divisien pf general Arneld, whp ccm- menced afurieus and persevering attack uppn the right wing pf the British forces. Whilst Arneld pressed hard en the enemy, Dearbprnwas prdered to pass the right, and take possessien pf eight heavy canncn, which played ever the British into the Amer ican lines. In executing this crder he was charged by a cerps of light infantry, which he repulsed with fixed bayonets, gained the eminence, took the cannon and corp3 pf artillery attached to them, and having disposed of them, made a rapid mpvement into the rear ef the British lines, and gave a full fire before his ap proach was disepvered. The British were sppn after forced to 308 HENRY DEARBORN. a precipitate retreat, and Dearbprn assisted in storming their works through the whole extent, under a tremendous fire of grape and musketry. Arnold was wounded in the same leg which suffered when Dearborn followed him to the assault of Quebec, and was repulsed from the works after having gained a temporary possession of them; but lieutenant-colonel Brooks having gained the left of the encampment,'was enabled to main tain his ground.' During the long contested battle which deci ded the fate cf Burgoyne's army, Dearborn was unable to rest or to take any refreshments, from day-light until late at night. The succeeding winter he passed in camp, at Valley Forge, with the main body of the American army, commanded by ge neral Washington in person. At the battle of Monmouth, the spirited conduct of colonel Dearborn, and the corps under his command, attracted particu larly the attention of the commander-in-chief. After Lee had made a precipitate and unexpected retreat, Washington, among other measures which he took to check the advance of the Brit ish, ordered Dearborn, with three hundred and fifty men, to at tack a body of troops which were passing through an orchard on the right wing of the enemy. The Americans advanced under a heavyr fire, with a rapid movement, and shouldered arms. The enemy filed off and formed on the edge of a morass; the Americans wheeled to the right, received their second fire with shouldered arms; marched up till within eight rods, dressed, gave a full fire, and charged bayonets. The British having sus tained considerable loss, fled with precipitation across the morass, where they were protected by the main body of the army. "What troops are those ?" enquired Washington, with evident pleasure at their gallant conduct. — "Full blooded Yankees, from New-Hampshire, sir," replied Dearborn. When the disaffection and treason of Arnold transpired, he was stationed at West Point, and was officer of the day at the execution of major Andre. In 1781, he was appointed deputy-quarter-master-general, with the rank of colonel, and served in that capacity at the siege of York-Town. In short, there was scarcely a battle between York-Town and Quebec, during the long protracted war, in which colonel Dearborn did not take a brave, active, and conspicuous part. JOSEPH REED. 309 JOSEPH REED, Adjutant-General in the American Army. Joseph Reed, president of the slate of Pennsylvania, was born in the state of New-Jersey, the 27th of August, A. D. 1741. In the year 1757, at the early age of sixteen, he graduated with considerable honor, at Princeton college. "Having studied the law with Richard Stockton, Esq. an emi nent counsellor of that place, he visited England and pursued his studies in the temple, until the disturbances which first broke out in the colonies on the passage of the stamp act. On his re turn to his native country, he commenced the practice of the law, and bore a distinguished part in the political commotions of the day. Having married the daughter of Dennis De Berdt, an eminent merchant of London, and, before the American revolu tion, agent for the province of Massachusetts, he soon after re turned to America, and practised the law with eminent success in the city of Philadelphia. "Finding that reconciliation with the mother country was not to be accomplished without the sacrifice of honor as well as lib erty, he became one of the most zealous advocates of indepen dence. In 1774, he was appointed one ofthe committee of cor respondence of Philadelphia, and afterward president of the con vention, and subsequently, member of the continental congress. On the formation of the army he resigned a lucrative practice, whith he was enjoying at Philadelphia, and repaired to the camp at Cambridge, where he was appointed aid-de-camp and secre tary to general Washingten; and althpugh merely acting as a volunteer, he displayed in this campaign, on many occasions the greatest courage and military ability. At the opening ofthe cam paign in 1776, on the promotton pf Gen. Gates, he was advanced, at the special reccmmendatien pf Gen. Washington, tp the pest pf adjutant-general, and bere an active part in this campaign, his lccal knowledge of the country being eminently useful in the affair at Trenton, and at the battle of Princeton. In the course of these events, and the censtant folfower pf his fortunes, he en- 40 310 JPSEPIl KEED. jpyed the ccnfidence and esteem of the commander-in-chief; At the end ef the year he resigned the effice ef adjutant-general, and was immediately appeinted a general officer, with a view to the ccmmand pf cavalry; but, pwing to the difficulty ef raising tropps, and the very detached parties in which they were em ployed, he was prevented from acting in that station. He still attended the army, and from the entrance ef the British army into Pennsylvania, till the clese pf the campaign cf 1777, he was seldom absent. He was engaged at the battle of German- town, and at White Marsh assisted general Porter in drawing up the militia. In 1778, he was appointed a member of con gress, =ind signed the articles of confederation. "Abput this time the British commissioners, governor John stone, lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden invested with the power to treat ef peace, arrived in America, and gcverner Johnstone, the principal of them, addressed private letters te Henry Laurens, Joseph Reed, Francis Dana, and Rebert Mprris, pffering them many advantages in case they should lend themselves to his views. Private information was cemmunicated from governpr Johnstone tp general Reed, that in case he would exert his abilities to promote a reconciliation, ten thousand pounds ster ling, and the most valuable office in the colonies, were at his disposal; to which Mr. Reed made this memorable reply :^ — - Hhat he was not worth purchasing, but that, such as he was, the king of Great Britain was not rich enough to do it.' These trans actions caused a resolution in congress, by which they refused to hold any further communication with that commissioner. Governor Johnstone, on his return to England, denied in par liament ever having made such offers; in consequence of which general Reed published a pamphlet, in which the whole trans action was clearly and satisfactorily proved, and which was ex tensively circulated both in England and America. "In 1778, he was unanimously elected president of the su preme executive council of the state of Pennsylvania; to which office he was elected annually, with equal unanimity, for the constitutional period pf three years. Abeut this time there ex] isted violent parties in the state, and several serious commotions occurred, particularly a large armed insurrection, in the city of Philadelphia, which he suppressed, and rescued a number of JOSEPH REED. 311 distinguished citizens from the most imminent danger of their lives, at the risk of his own; for which he received a vote of thanks from the legislature of the state. "At the time of the defection of the Pennsylvania line, go vernor Reed exerted himself strenuously to bring back the revolt- ers, in which he ultimately succeeded. Amidst the most diffi cult and trying scenes, his administration exhibited the most disinterested zeal and firmness of decision. In the civil part of his character, his knowledge ofthe law was very useful in a new and unsettled government; so that, although he found in it no small weakness and confuston, he left it, at the expiralton pf his term ef pffice, in as much tranquility and energy as cculd be ex pected from the time and circumstances cf the war. In the year 1781, on the expiration of his term of pffice, he returned tc the duties of his professien. "General Reed was very fortunate in his military career, for, although he was in almost every engagement in the nerthem and eastern sectien pfthe unien, during the war, he never was weunded: he had three hprses killed under him, ene at the battle pf Brandywine, ene in the skirmish ef White Marsh, and ene at the battle pf Monmouth. During the whole of the war he en joyed the confidence of generals Washington, Greene, Wayne, Steuben, Lafayette, and many others of the most distinguished characters ofthe revolution, with whom he was in the habits of the most confidential interccurse and corresppndence. Thefriend- ship that existed between general Reed and general Greene, is particularly menticned by the bipgrapher pf general Greene. 'Ameng the many inestimable friends whe attached themselves to him, during his military career, there was no one whom gene ral Greene prized more, or more justly, than the late governor Reed of Pennsylvania. It was before this gentlemen bad im- mertalized himself by his celebrated reply tc the agent pf cor ruption, that these two distinguished patriots had begun to feel for each other the sympathy of congenial souls. Mr. Reed had accompanied general Washington to Boston, when he first took command ofthe American army; there he became acquain ted with Greene, and, as was almost invariably the case with those who became acquainted with him, and had hearts to acknowl edge his worth, a friendsdip ensued which lasted with their lives.' 312 PETER HPRRY. Had the life of general Reed been sufficiently protonged, he weuld have discharged, in a manner werthy of the subject, the debt of national gratitude to which the efforts pf fhe biegrapher pf general Greene have been successfully dedicated, whe had in his posscssien the eutlines pf a sketch cf the life ef general Greene by his friend. "In the year 1784, he again visited England for the sake pf his health; but his veyage was attended with but little effect, as in the felfowing year he fell a victim tp a disease, mest probably brought pn by the fatigue and expesure te which he was ccn- stantly subjected. In private life, he was accompbshed in his manners, pure in his morals, fervent and faithful in his attach ments. ;, "On the 5th of March, 1785, in the forty-third year of his age, too soon for his country and his friends, he departed a life, ac tive, useful, and glorious. His remains were interred in the Presbyterian ground in Arch street, in the city of Philadelphia, attended by the president and executive council, and the speaker and the general assembly of the state."* PETER HORRY, Colonel in the American Army. This officer was a descendant of one of the many protestant families who removed to Carolina from France after the revo lution pf the edict cf Nantz. He early tepk up arms in defence of his country; and through all the trials of peril and privatton experienced by Marton's brigade, gave ample proof of his strict integrity and undaunted courage. The fame which he acqui red as one ofthe band of heroes who defended, the post at Sulli van's island, was never tarnished. For althpugh, in a mpment ef despendency, he pnce said te his general, 'I fear pur happy days are all gene by;' it was net the cpnsequences that might accrue te himself, but the miseries apprehended fer his ccuntry, *American Biographical Dictionary. JOHN JAMES. 313 that caused the exclamation; for never were his principles sha ken; never, even ferampment, did the theughtpf submission en ter his bosom. Np man mpre eagerly seught the foe ; nene bra ved danger with greater intrepidity, er mpre strenuously endea- vpred to sustain the military reputation of his country. A lu dicrous story is told pf him, that, thpugh probably varied in the narration, has its foundation in truth. "Colonel Horry was once ordered to await the approach of a British detachment in ambuscade; a service which he per formed with such skill, that he had them completely within his power; when, from a dreadful impediment in his speech, by which he was afflicted, he could not articulate the word fire.'' In vain he made the attempt — it was fi, fi, ft, fi, but he could get no further. At length, irritated almost to madness, he ex claimed, lshoot, damn you, shoot — you know very well what I would say — shoot, shoot, and be damn'd to you !' He was pre sent in every engagement of consequence, and on all occasions increased his reputation. At Quinby, colonel Baxter, a gallant soldier, possessed of great coolness, and still greater simplicity of character, called out, 'I am wounded, colonel!' Horry re plied, 'think no more of it, Baxter, but stand to your post.' 'But I can't stand, colonel; I am wounded a second time!' 'Then lie down, Baxter, but quit not your post.' 'Cpfonel (cried the wcunded man) they have shet me again, and if I remain any lenger here, 1 shall be shet to pieces.' 'Be it se, Baxter, but stir not.' He obeyed the order and actually received a fourth wound before the engagement ended."* JOHN JAMES, Major in the American Army, Was born in Ireland, in 1732, and was the son of an officer who had served king William in his wars in Ireland against king James. This circumstance was the origin of the name of *Garden's Anecdotes. 314 JOHN JAMES. Williamsburg, which is now attached to one of the districts of Carolina. The elder James, with his family, and several of his neighbors, migrated to that district in 1733, made the first set tlement there, and in honor of king William, gave his name to a village laid out on the east bank of Black river. The Village is now called King's Tree, from a white er shprt-leafed pine, which in eld royal grants was reserved for the use ef the king; and the name pf Williamsburg has been transferred tp the dis trict. To it, major James, when an infant, was brought by his parents. His first recollections were those of a stockade fort, and of war between the new settlers and the natives. The for mer were pfteh reduced te great straits in procuring the neces saries ef life, and in defending themselves against the Indians. In this then frontier settlement, majer James, Mr. James Brad ley, and pther compatriots pf the revolution, were trained up to defend and love their country. Their opportunities for acquis ring liberal educations were slender, but for obtaining religidus instruction were very ample. They were brought up under the eye and pastoral care of the Rev. John Rae, a Presbyterian minister, who accompanied his congregation in their migration from Ireland to Carolina. When the revolution commenced in 1775, major James had acquired a censiderable pprtion both of reputation and property. He was a captain of militia under George the third. Disapproving of the measures of the British government, he resigned his royal commisston, but was sppn af ter re-instated by a pepular vote. In the year 1776, he marched with his company to the defence of Charleston. In the year 1779, he was with general Moultrie on his retreat before gene ral Prevost, and commanded one hundred and twenty riflemen in the skirmish of Tulifinny. When Charleston was besieged, in 1780, major James march ed to its defence; but governor Rutledge ordered him back lo embody the country militia. The town having fallen, he was employed by his countrymen to wait on the conquerors, and to inquire of them what terms they would give. On finding that nothing short of unconditional submission and the resumption of the character and duties of British subjects would be accepted, he abruptly broke of all negotiation; and, rejoining his friend, formed the stamina ofthe distinguished corps known in the lat- JOHN JAMES. 315 ter periods of the revolutionary war by the name pf Marion's brigade. In the course of this cruel and desultcry warfare, ma jor James was reduced from easy circumstances tc ppverty. All his meveable property was carried cff, and every heuse en his plantatton burnt; but he here up under these misfortunes, and deveted, npt pnly all his ppssesstons, but life itself for the gppd of his ccuntry. After Greene, as commander-in-chief, had su perseded Marion, major James continued to serve under the for mer, and fought with him at the battle of Eutaw. The corps with which he served consisted mostly of riflemen, and were each served with twenty-four round of cartridges. Many of them expended the whole, and most of them twenty of these in firing on the enemy. As they were in the habit of taking aim, their shot seldom failed pf dping executicn. Shcrtly after this action, majpr James and general Marfon were beth elected members cf the state legislature. Before the general had re- jpined his brigade, it was unexpectedly attacked, and after re treating, was pursued by a party of the British ccmmanded by colonel Thempson, now count Rumford. In this retreat, major James,being meunted, was nearly pvertaken by twp British dra- goons, but kept them from cutting him dpwn by a judicicus use pf his pistols, and escaped by leaping a chasm in a bridge of twenty feet width. The dragoens did not follow. The major being out of their reach, rallied his men, brought themback to the charge, and stopped the progress of the enemy. When the war was nearly over, he resigned his commission, and, like another Cincinnatus, returned to his farm, and devoted the remainder of his days to the improvement of his property and the education of his children. In the year 1791, he died with the comppsure and fortitude pf a christian here."* , ?Ramsay's History of fjlouth Carolina. 316 EVAN EDWARDS. EVAN EDWARDS* Major in the American Army. The folfowing interesting account is taken from Garden's "Anecdctes ef the Revplutionary War." "Among the many meritorious officers who gained distinction in the service, there were few who better deserved, or in a more extensive degree obtained the respect of the public, and affec tionate esteem of his military associates, than major Edwards. "The major was of the Baptist persuasion, and originally de signed, for the ministry, but imbibing the military spirit of the times, entered the army, and appeared, at the ccmmencement cf the war, as pne pf the defenders pf Fprt Washington. A brave and stubborn resistance cpuld npt save the pest, which fell into the hands of tbe enemy, and Edwards became a prisoner. I have often heard him make a jest of the whimsical and fan tastical figure which he exhibited on this occasion. 'It was not to be wondered,' he said, 'that starch in person, emaciated as an anatomy^ with rueful countenance, rendered more ghastly by mis fortune, my dress partly military, but showing much of a clerical cut, that the risibility of the conquerors should have been very highly excited. One of the leaders, however, of the successful assailants, anxious to excite a still higher degree of merriment, ordered me to ascend a cart, and as a genuine specimen of a re bel officer, directed that I should be paraded through the princi pal streets of New- York. It was at the entrance of Canvass- town that I was much amused by the exclamation of a Scottish female follower of the camp, who called to a companion — 'Quick, quick, lassie, rin hither a wee, and devarte yoursel', they've cotch'd a braw and bonny rebel, 'twill do ye guid to laugh at him.' Hopting and derision attended my whele career, and at the cenclusion of the farce I was committed to prison.' "In the eventful changes of the war, it so happened that the very individual who had so ungenerously abused his power, be came a captive, experiencing the additional mortificatton pf yielding his swprd into the hands pf the man sp lately treated NATHAN HALE. 317 with sccrnful indignity. Struck with the' singularity pf the renccunter, and thoroughly ashamed ef his former behavfour, he, with frankness said, 'Yeu are the last man, sir, that I wished to meet en such an cccasicn, for np pne have I ever se wantonly pffended; from^oit I have nothing to lppk for but merited retalia tion.' 'Not a word more on the subject, I beseech you, sir,' was the reply ef Edwards^ 'the surrender pf ypur swprd destroyed every recpllection cf former animosity; rest assured, therefore, that while you remain with us$ it will be equally my pride and pleasure fo soothe the pains of captivity, and to render you every service in my power.' "The cheerful disposition of Edwards rendered him, as I have already stated, A universal favorite; the eccasicnal indulgence cf satirical propensities, peculiarly sp pf general Charles Lee, whe made him his aid-de-camp,- and at his death left him a third cf his estate. I never knew him, however, make an ill-natured re mark, where he was not provoked to do so — then, indeed, he spared not. "A colonel in the army, who was too much inclined to be po etical in his prose, telling Edwards that he had heard a report concerning him that had greatly amused him, the major assured him that it was altogether without foundation. 'O no,' said the colonel, 'deny it not — it must be true, and f will report and give it currency.' 'Thank yeu, thank you, kind sir,' rejoined, Ed wards, tyour doing so Will save me the trouble of contradict ing it.'" . x NATHAN HALE, Captain in the American Army. After the unfortunate engagement on Long Island, general Washington called a council of war, who determined on an im mediate retreat to New- York. The intention was prudently concealed from the army, who knew not whither they were go ing, but imagined it was to attack the enemy. The field artil lery, tents, baggage, and about nine thousand men, were qon- 41 318 NATHAN HALE. veyed to the city of New- York, over the East river, more than a mile wide, in less than thirteen hours, and without the knowl edge of the British, though npt six hundred yards distant. Pro vidence in a remarkable manner favored the retreating army. • The wind, which seemed tc prevent the trepps getting ever at the appointed hour, afterward shifted to their wishes. Perhaps the fate of America was never suspended by a more brittle thread than previeusly to this memprable retreat. A spectacle is here presented ef an army destined for the defence of a, great' continent, driven tp the narrow borders cf an island, with a victoricus army dpuble its number in front, wifh naviga ble waters in its rear; ccnstantly liable to have its cemmunica- tton cut cff by the enemy's navy, ahd every moment exposed to- an attack. The presence cf mind which animated the ccm- mander-in-chief in this critical situaticn, the prudence with which all the necessary measures were executed, redcunded as much or more to his honor than the most brilliant victories/' An army, to which America' looked for safety, preserved ; a general who was considered as an host himself, saved for the future necessi ties of his country. -Had not, however, the circumstances cf the night, of the wind and weather, been favorable, the plan, hew- everWell concerted, must have been defeated. To a good Pro vidence, therefore, are the people of America indebted for the complete success of an enterprise so important in its consequences. This retreat left the British in complete possession of Long Island. What would be their future opera tiens remained uncer tain. To obtain information of their situation, their strength, and future movements, was of high importance. For this purpose, general Washington applied to colonel Knowlton, who com manded a regiment of light infantry, which formed the rear of the American army, and desired him to adopt some mode of gaining the necessary informatton. Cefonel Knowlton commu nicated this request to captain Nathan Hale, of Connecticut, Who was a captain in his regiment. This young officer, animated by a sense of duty, and consider ing that an opportunity presented itself by which he mi|;ht be useful to his country, at once offered himself a volunteer for this hazardous service. He passed in disguise to Long Island, and examined every part ofthe British army, and obtained the best NATHAN HALE. 319 possible information respecting their situatien and future ope rations. In his attempt tp return, he was apprehended, carried before Sir William Howe, and the proof of his object was so clear, that he frankly acknowledged who he was, and what were his views. Sir. William Howe at once gave an order to have him executed the next morning. This order was accordingly executed in the most unfeeling manner, and by as great a savage as ever disgraced humanity. A clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused him; a Bible, for a few moments' devotion, was not procured, although he wished it. - Letters which, on the morning pf his executton, he wrote- to his mother and other friends, were destroyed; and this very extraordinary reason given by the provost-martial, " Thai the rebels should not know they had a man in their army who could die with so much firmness." Unknown to all" around him, withput a single friend te pffei him the least consolation, thus fell as amiable and worthy a yoUng man as America could boast, with this as his dying obser vation, that "he only lamented that he had but one life to lose for his country. Although the manner of this execution will ever be abhorred by every friend to humanity and religion, yet there cannot be a question but that the sentence was conformable to the rules pf war, and the practice of nations in similar cases. It is, however, but justice to the character of captain Hale to observe, that his motives for engaging in the service were en tirely different from those which generally influence others in similar circumstances. Neither expectation of promotipn, nor pecuniary reward, induced him to this attempt. A sense of duty, a hope that he might in this way be useful to his country, and an opinion which he had adopted, that every kind of service necessary to the general good became honorable by being ne cessary, were the great motives which induced him to engage in an enterprise by which his connexions lost a most amiable friend, and his country one of its most promising supporters. The fate of this unfortunate young man excites the most inter esting reflections. To see such a character, in the flower of youth, cheerfully treading in the most hazardous paths, influ- 320 FRANCIS MARIPN. enced by the purest intentiens, and only emulous to dp gopd to his cpuntry, withput the imputatton pf a crime, fall a victim to pplicy, must have been wcunding to tfie feelings even ef his " enemies. Sheuld a ccmparispn be drawn between majer Andre and captain Hale, injustice would be done to the latter, sheuld he nut be placed cn an equal ground with the former. While almost every historian pf the American revolution has celebrated the virtues, and lamented the fate of Andre, Hale has remained unnoticed, and it is scarcely known such a character existed. To the memory of Andre; his country has erected the most magnificent monuments, and bestowed on his family the highest honors and most liberal rewards. To the memory of Hale, not a stone has been erected, nor an inscription to preserve- his ashes from insult. FRANCIS MARION, Colonel in the American Army. Francis Marion, colonel in the regular service, and briga dier-general in the militia of South Carolina,, was born in the vicinity of George Town, in the year l733. To portray the meteor-like course of hardihood and exploit traced by general Marion and his heroic followers, would con stitute a picture rich in admiration and delight to the lovers of bravery and romantic adventure. Never was an officer better suited to the times in which he lived, and the situation in which it was his fortune to act. For stratagems, unlooked-for enter prises against the enemy, and devices for eencealing his cwn position and mpvements, he had ne rival. Never, in a single instance, was he overtaken in his ceurse, er disepvered in his hiding-place. Even seme pf his own par.ty, anxtous for his safety, and well acquainted with many ef the places pf his re treat, have seught fpr him whple days in his immediate neigh- bprhopd withput finding him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, in some distant point, he would again appear, pouncing upon his FRANCIS MARION. 321 enemy bke the ea^gle upon his prey. These high and rare qual ities conducted him repeatedly into the arms of victory, when the force enceuntered was tenfold the number that he com manded. - Young Marion at tbe age of sixteen, entered on board a ves sel bound to the West Indies, with a determination to fit himself for a seafaring life. On his outward passage, the little schponer in which he was embarked was suddenly attacked by seme men- , strous fish, probably a thorn-back whale, whe gave it such a ter rible stroke with his tail as started a plank. The frightened crew flew te, their pumps, but in vain; fer the briny flppd rushed with such fury into their vessel, that they were glad te quit her, and tumble as fast as they could into their Uttle jolly boat. The event showed that this was but a leap "out of the frying pan into the fire;" for their schooner went down so suddenly as not to give them time to take a mouthful of food with them, not even so much as a brown biscuit or a pint of water. After three wretched days of feverish hunger and thirst, they agreed to kill a bttle cabin dog who had swam to them from the schooner just before she sunk. On his raw flesh they feasted without restraint; but the blood they preserved with more economy, to cppl their parched tips. In a few days, heWever, their ewn blood for lack of cooling food, became so fiery hot as to scald their brain to frenzy. About the tenth day the captain and mate leaped overboard, raving mad; and the day following, the two remaining seamen expired in the bottom of the boat, piteously crying to tbe last for water! water! Scarcely was this melancholy scene concluded before a vessel hove in sight, standing directly for the boat, as if purposely sent to save the child that was tossing in it on the gloomy waves. Little Marion was so weak that he could not stir hand or foot to climb up the side of the vessel. The captain, how ever, soon had him on board; and by means of chocolate and turtle broth, sparingly given him at first, recruited him so fast, that, by the time he reached his native shores, he was in much better health than ever. So that on his return to his friends, it was found, as is often the case, that what was at first looked on as a great misfortune, had proved a very noble blessing. His constitution seemed renewed, his frame commenced a second 322 FRANCIS MARION. and rapid growth; while his cheeks, quitting their pale cast, as sumed a bright and healthy olive. Accerding to the best ac- ccunts, Marion never theught pf anpther trip to sea, but contin ued in his native parish, in that mest independent and happy ef all callings, a cultivator pf the earth, till his 27th year.* Ameng the few who escaped was yeung Marfon. After reach ing land, Marion relinquished his original plan of life, and en gaged in the labors of agriculture. In this occupation he contin ued until 1759, when he became a seldier,and was appointed a lieutenant in a company of volunteers, raised for an expedition against the Cherokee Indians^ commanded by captain WiUiam Moultrie, (since general Moultrie.) As sopn as the war broke Out. between the colonies and the mother country, Marion was caUed to the command of a com pany in the first corps raised by the slate of South Carolina. He was soon afterward promoted to a majority, and served in that rank under colonel Moultrie, in his intrepid defence of Fort Moultrie, against the combined attack of Sir Henry Clinton and Sir Peter Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He was afterward placed at the head of a regiment as lieutenant-cefonel comman dant, in which capacity he served during the siege cf Charleston; when, having fractured his leg by some accident, he became in capable of military duty, and, fortunately for his country, esca ped the captivity to which the garrison was, in the sequel, forced to submit. When Charleston fell into the enemy's hands, lieutenant-colo nel Marion abandoned his state, and took shelter in North Caro lina. Tbe moment he recovered from the fracture of his leg, , he engaged in preparing the means of annoying the enemy, then in the flood-tide of prosperity. With sixteen men only, he crossed tbe Santee, and commenced that daring system of war fare which so much annoyed the British army. The following anecdotes of Marion and the officers and sol diers who served with him, are taken from colonel Horry's life of Marion. Marion, with his feeble force, dared to dash up at once to Nel son's ferry, on the great war path between the British armies at Charleston and Camden. *Weerns' Life of Marion. FRANCIS MARION. 323 "Npw, my gaUant friends," said he, at sight of the road, and with a face burning for battle, "now look sharp! here are the British wagon tracks, with the sand still falling in! and here are the steps of their troops passing and repassing. We shall not long be idle here!" And so it turned out. For scarcely ,had we reached our hi ding place in the swamp, before in came our scouts at half speed, stating that a British guard, with a world of American priso ners, were en their march for Charleston. "How many prisoners do you suppose there were?" said Ma rion. "Near two hundred," replied the scouts* "And what do you imagine was the number of the Britisl . guard?" "Why, sir, we counted about ninety." "Ninety!" said Marion, with a smile; "ninety! Well, that wUl do. And now, gentlemen, if you will only stand by me, I've a good hope that we thirty will have those ninety by to morrow's sunrise ." We told him to lead on, for that we were resolved to die by his side. Soon as the dusky night came on, we went dewn to the ferry, and passing for a party of good loyalists, we easUy got set over. The enemy, with their prisoners, having just effected the pas ¦ sage of the river as fhe sun went down, halted at the first tavern, generally called "the Blue House," where the officers ordered supper. In front of the buUding, was a large arbor, wherein the topers were wont to sit, and spend the jocund night away in songs and gleeful draughts of apple brandy grog. In this arbor, flushed with their late success, sat* the British guard; and tickler after tickler swUling, ioared it away to the tune of "Britannia strike home:" till overcome with fatigue, and the opiate juice, down they sunk, deliriously beastified, to the ground. Just as the cock had winded his last horn for day, we ap proached the house in perfect concealment, behind a string of fence, within a few yards of it. But in spite of all our address, we could not effect a complete surprisal ef them. Their senti nels took the alarm, and firing their pieces, fled into the yard. Swift as lightning we entered with them, and seizing their mus- 324 FRANCIS MARION. kets, which were all stacked near the gate, We made prisoners of the whole party, without having been obliged to kill more than three of them. Had Washington and his whole army been upon the survi vors, they could hardly have roared out louder for ^quarter. Af ter securing their arms, Marion called for their captain; but he was not to be found, high or low, among the living or dead. However, after a hot search, he was found up the chimney ! He begged very hard that we weuld npt let his men know where he had ccncealed himself. Nothing cculd equal the mortificaticn of the British, when they came to see what a handful of militia men had taken them, and recovered all their prisoners. Marion was at first in high hopes, that the American regulars, whom he had so gallantly rescued, would, to a man, have joined his arms, and fought hard to avenge their late defeat. But equal ly to his surprise and their own disgrace, not one of them could be prevailed on to shoulder a musket!; "Where is the use," said they, "of fighting how, when all is lost?" This was the general impression. And indeed, except these unconquerable spirits, Marion and Sumpter, with a few others of the same heroic stamp, who kept the field, Carolina was no bet ter than a British province. In our late attack on the enemy, we had but four rounds of powder and ball ; and not a single sword that deserved the name. But Marion soon remedied that defect. He bought up all the old saw blades from the mills, and gave them to the smiths, who presently manufactured for us a parcel of substantial broadswords sufficient, as I have often seen, to kill a man at a single blow. From our prisoners in the late action, we got completely armed ; a couple of English muskets, with bayonets and cartcuch boxes, to each of us, with which we retreated into Britton's neck. We had not been there above twenty-four hours before the news was brought us by a trusty friend, that the tories on Pedee, were mustering, in force, under a captain Barfield. This, as we learnt afterwards, was one of the companies that my uncle's old • coachman had been so troubled about. We were quickly on horseback ; and after a brisk ride of forty miles, came upon their encampment, at three o'clock in the morning. Their surprise was so complete, that they did not fire a single shot! Of forty- FRANCIS MARION. 325 nine men, who cOmpcsed their company, we killed and topk abput thirty. The arms, ammunition, and horses, of the whole party, fell into our hands, with which we returned to Britton's neck, witheut the less of a man. The rumor of these two expleits sppo reached the British and their friends the tories, whe presently despatched three stout ccmpanieste attack us. Twc pf the parties were British ; ene ef them ccmmanded by majpr Weymies, ef house-burning memory. The third party were altogether tories. We fled be fore them towards North Carolina. Supposing they had entirely scouted us, they gave over the chase, and returned for their re spective stations; the British to Georgetown, and the tories to Black Mingo. Learning this, from the swift mounted scouts whom he always kept close hanging upon their march, Ma rion ordered us to face about, and dog them to their encamp ment, which we attacked with great fury. Our fire commenced on them at but a shert distance, and with great effect; but cut- numbering us, at least twe to one, they stppd their ground and fought desperately. But losing their commander, and being hard pressed, they at length gave way, and fled in the utmost precipitation, leaving upwards of two-thirds of their number, killed and wounded, on the ground. The surprise and destruc tion of the tories would have been complete, had it not been for the alarm given by our horses' feet in passing Black Mingo ^bridge, near which they were encamped. Marion never after- >' wards suffered us to cross a bridge in the night, until we had first spread our blankets on it, to prevent noise. This third exploit of Marion rendered his name very dear to the poor whigs, but utterly abeminable tp the enemy, particularly the tories, whe were se terrified at this last handling, that, en their retreat, they weuld npt halt a mpment at Georgetown, ttiPUgh twenty mile3 from the field ef battle; butccntinued their flight, net thinking themselves safe, until they had get Santee river between him and them. Marien was sopp after called. upon to break up a tory meeting on the Little Pedee. ' Having put our fire-arms in prime order for an attack, we mounted; and giving our friends three cheers, dashed off, just as the broad-faced moon arose; and by daybreak next morning, had 42 326 FRANCIS MARIOS.. gained a very ccnvenient swamp, within ten miles pf the grand tory rendezvous. To avpid giving alarm, we struck into the swamp, and there, man and horse, lay snug all day> About eleven o'clock, Marion sent out a couple of nimhleTfoefed young men, to conceal themselves near the main road, and take ggod heed to what was going on. In the evening they returned and brought word, that the road had been constantly alive with horsemen, tories they supppsed, armed with new guns, and all mpving nn very gaily towards the place the lad had told us of. Soon -as it was dark, we mounted, and took the track^at a sweep ing gallop, which, by / early supper time, brought us in sight of their fires. Then leaving our horses, nnder a small guard, we advanced quite, near them, in the dark, without being discovered; for sp little thcughthad they ef Marian, that they had net placed a single sentinel; but were, all bands, gathered abeut the fire, seme cepking, spme fiddling and dancing, and seme playing cards, as we cculd hear them every npw and then bawling put,--- " Huzza, at him again, damme! aye, that's the dandy! My trick, begad H Popr wretches, little did they think how near the fates were: grinning around them. Observing that they had three large, fires, Marion divided our ^ little party of sixty men into three companies, each opposite to a fire, then bidding us to aim, with his pistol he gave the signal for a general discharge. In a moment the woods were all in a blaze, as by a flash of lightning, accompanied by a tremendous clap of thunder. Downtumbled the dead; off bolted the living; loud screamed the wounded; while far and wide, all over the woods, nothing was to be heard but the running of tories, and the snorting of wild bounding horses, snapping the saplings, Such a tragi-cotnedy was hardly ever seen. On running up to their fires, we found we had killed twenty-three, and badly wounded as many more; thirteen we made prisoners; popr fel lews whp had npt been grazed by a bullet,, but were se frightened that they could not budge a peg. We got eighty-four stand of arms, chiefly English muskets and bayonets, one hundred horses, with new saddles and bridles, all English too, with a gopd deal pf ammunition and baggage. The consternation of the tories was spgreufe that-, they never dreamed of carrying off any thing. FRANCIS MARION. 327 Even their fiddles and fiddle bows, and playing cards, were all left strewed around their fires. One of the gamblers, (it is a serious truth) though shot dead, still held the cards hard griped ih his hands. Led by curiosity to inspect this strange sight, a dead gambler, we found that the cardswhichhe held were ace, deuce, and jack. Clubs were trumps. Holding high, low, jack and the game, in his own hand, he seemed to be in a fair way to do well; but Marion came down upon him with a trump that spoiled his sport, and non-suited him for ever. Soon after this last victory on Pedee, Marion moved down into' the neighborhood of Black river; where he instantly get notice, tbat a large body of tories under the celebrated colonel Tynes, were making great preparations to attackhim. This Tynes was a man of vafor and address Worthy of a better cause. In several contests with the whigs, he had handled them very roughly ; and was become such a terror to the friends of liberty in that parti of the world, that they were greatly alarmed on finding that he was mustering all his forces to attack Marion. We were scarcely encamped, before three expresses arrived from the whig settlei- ments on Black river, stating colonel Tynes' movements; and advising lo keep a good look out, for that he was a very artful and dangerous fellow. According, to their conjectures, coloriel Tynes must have had no less than one hundred and fifty men: our num ber did not quite reach ninety; but they were all volunteers, and exceedingly chafed and desperate in their minds', by the barba rous usage of the British and tories. Having, by this1 day's- march of fifty miles; got within twenty miles pf the enemy, whe supposed that we were still en Pedee, Marion instantly'reselved to attack; him that night: Np sooner was this made knoWh to the troops, than the fatigues of the day appeared to be entirely forgotten. All handa fell to wprk; currying, rubbing and feeding their hprses, like yeUngmen preparing for a ball er barbacue. Then after a hearty supper and a few hcurs sleep* We all sprung, upon our chargers again, and dashed off about one o'clock, to try our fortune with cofonel Tynes. Just before day, we came upen the enemy, whom we found buried in sleep. The roar ef pur guns first broke their slumbers; and by the time the frightened wretches had got upon their legs, man and horse, we were artieng them hewing dpwn. Three and thirty fell under eur swords; 328 FRANCIS MARION. forty-six were taken; the rest, about sixty, made their escape* Colonel Tynes himself, with upwards of one hundred horses, and all the baggage, fell into our hands. A day or two after this victory, the general ordered me to take captain Baxter, lieutenant Postell, and sergeant Macdonald, With thirty privates, and see if I could npt gain some advantage over the enemy near the lines pf Georgetown. About midnight We crossed Black river; and, pushing on in great silence through the dark woods, arrived at dawn of day near the enemy's sen tries, where we lay in ambush close en the road. Just after the usual hour of breakfast, a chair, with a couple of young ladies, 'squired by a brace of British officers elegantly mounted, came along at a sweeping rate from Georgetown. ¦ They had not passed us more than fifty steps, before they stopped short. I was confoundedly afraid at first that they had, somehow or other, smelt a rat; but it turned eut, as we after wards learned, that this was only a little courting party, going into the country to dine. On getting into the gloomy woods, the girls were taken with a quaking fit for their sweethearts, lest that vile "swamp fox," as they called Maricn, shpuld come across them. Whereupon the halt aforesaid was ordered, and a consul tation held; the result of which was, that the girls should go on to their friend's house, and the officers back to town for a party of dragoons. Accordingly the chair prcceeded, and the pfficers gal loped back by us,- undisturbed ; for we did not think it worth » / Directing* her eyes to Jasper.and Newton, where they stood like two youthful Sampsons,- in the full flowing of their locks, she ran and fell on her knees befoie them, and seizing their hands, kissed and. pressed them to her -bosom, crying out vehemently, "Dear angels!, dear angels! God bless you! God Almighty bless you for ever !"- Then instantly, for fear of being overtaken by the enemy, our heroes snatched the arms and regimentals of the slain, and with their friends and captive foes, re-crossed the Savannah, and in safety rejoined our army at Purysburgh, to the inexpressible as tonishment and jpy pf us all. " PART II. BIOGRAPHY OF FOREIGN OFFICERS IN THE AMERICAN SERVICE. GILBERT MOTIER LAFAYETTE, Major-General in the American Continental Army. The family of General Lafajette has long been distinguished in the history of France. As early as 1422, the Marshal de Lafayette defeated and killed the Duke of Clarence at Beauge, and thus saved his country from falling entirely into the power of Henry Fifth, of England. His father fell iu the battle of Munden, and therefore sur vived the birth of his son only two years. These, with many more memorials of his family, scattered through the different portions of French history for nearly five centuries, are titles to distinction, which it is particularly pleasant to recollect, when they fall, as they now do, on one so singularly fitted to receive and increase them. General Lafayette himself was born in Auvergne, in the south of France, on the 6th of September, 1757. When quite young, he was sent to the College of Du Plessis at Paris, where he received that clas sical education, of which, when recently at Cambridge, he twice gave remarkable proof in uncommonly happy quotations from Cicero, suit ed to circumstances that could not have been foreseen. Somewhat later, he was sent to Versailles, where the court constantly resided; and there his education was still further continued, and he was made, in common with most of the young noblemen, an officer in the army. When only between sixteen and seventeen, he was married to the daughter of the Duke d'Ayen, son of the Duke de Noailles, and grand son to the great and good Chancellor d'Aguesseaa ; and thus his con dition in life seemed to be assured to him among the most splendid and powerful in the empire. His fortune, which had been accumu lating during a long minority, was vast; his rank was with the first 45 350 LAFAYETTE. in Europe; his connexions brought him the support of the chief per sons in France; and his individual character, the warm, open, and sin cere manners, which have distinguished him ever since, and given him such singular control over the minds of men, made him power ful in the confidence of society wherever he went. It was at this period, however, that his thoughts and feelings were first turned towards these thirteen colonies, then in the darkest and most doubtful passage of their struggle for independence. He made himself acquainted with our agents at Paris, and learned from them the state of our affairs. Nothing could he less tempting to him, whe ther he sought military reputation or military instruction, for our ar my at that moment retreating through New- Jersey, and leaving its traces in blood from the naked and torn feet of the soldiery as it has tened onward, "was in a state too humble to offer either. Our credit, too, in Europe, was entirely gone, so that the commissioners, as they were called, without having any commission, to whom Lafayette still persisted in offering his services, were obliged at last, to acknowledge that they could not even give him decent means for his conveyance. "Then," said he, "I shall purchase and fit out a vessel for myself." He did so. The vessel was prepared at Bordeaux, and sent round to one of the nearest ports in Spain, that it might be beyond the reach of the French government. In order more effectually to conceal his purposes, he made, just before his embarkation, a visit ofa few weeks in England, the only time he was ever there, and was much sought in English society. On his return to France, he did not stop at all in the capital, even to see his own family, but hastened with all speed and secrecy, to make good his escape from the country. It was not until he was thus on his way to embark, that his romantic undertaking began to be known. The effect produced in the capital and at court by its publication, was greater than we should now, perhaps, imagine. Lord Stormont, the English ambassador, required the French ministry to despatch an order for his arrest, not only to Bordeaux, but to the French com manders on the West India station ; a requisition with which the min istry readily complied, for they were at that time, anxious to preserve a good understanding with England, and were seriously angry with a young man, who had thus put in jeopardy the relations of the two countries. In fact, at Passage, on tho very borders of France and Spain, a lettre de cachet overtook him, and he was arrested and car ried back to Bordeaux. There, of course, his enterprise was near be ing finally stopped; but watching his opportunity, and assisted by one LAFAYETTE. 351 or two friends, he disguised himself as a courier, with his face blacked and false hair, and, rode on, ordering post-horses, for a carriage which he had caused to follow him at a suitable distance, for this very pur pose, and thus fairly passed the frontiers of the two kingdoms, only three or four hours before his pursuers reached them. He soon ar rived at his port, where his vessel was waiting for him. His family, however, stil! followed him with solicitations to return, which he never received. Immediately on arriving the second time at Passage, the wind being fair, he embarked. The usual course for French vessels attemptiug to trade with our colonies at that period, was to sail for the West In dies, and -then coming up along our coast, enter where they could. But this course would have exposed Lafayette to the naval command. ers of his own nation, and he had almost as much reason to dread them, as to dread. British cruisers. When, therefore, thejr were out side of the Canary Islands, Lafayette required his captain to lay their course directly for the United States. The captain refused, alleging, that if they should be taken by a British force and carried into Hali fax, the French government would, never reclaim them, and they could hope for nothing but a slow death in a dungeon or a prison-ship. This was true, but Lafayette knew it before he made the requisition. He therefore, insisted, until the captain refused in the most positive manner. Lafayette then told him that the ship was his own private property, that he had made his own arrangements concerning it, and that if ho, the captain, would not sail directly for tho United States, he should be put in irons, and his command given to the next officer. The captain, of course, submitted ,and Lafayette gave him a bond for forty thousand francs, in case of any accident. They, therefore, now made sail directly for the southern portion of the United States, and arrived unmolested at Charleston, South Carolina, on the 25th of April, 1777. The sensation produced by his appearance in this country was, of course, much greater than that produced in Europo by his departure. It still stands forth, as one of the most prominent and important circum stances in our revolutionary contest; and, as has often been said by one who bore no small part in its trials and success, none but those who were then alive, can believe what an impulse it gave to the hopes of a population almost disheartened by a long series of disasters. And well it might; for it taught us, that in the first rank of the first nobili ty in Europe, men could still be found, who not only took an interest in our struggle, but were willing to share our sufferings; that our ob- 352 LAFAYETTE. scure and almost desperate contest for freedom in a remote quarter of the world, could yet find supporters among those who were the most natural and powerful allies of a splendid despotism; that we were the objects of regard and interest throughout the world, which would add to our own resources sufficient strength to carry us safely through to final success. Immediately after his arrival, Lafayette received the offer of a com mand in our army, but declined it. Indeed, during the whole of his service with us, he seemed desirous to show, by his conduct, that he had come only to render disinterested assistance to our cause. He be gan, therefore, by clothing' and equipping a body of men at Charles ton at his own expense, and then entered, as a volunteer without pay, into our service. He lived in the family of the commander-in-chief, and won his full affection and confidence. He was appointed a ma jor-general in our service, by a vote of congress, on the 31st of July, 1777, and in September of the same year, was wounded at Brandy wine. He was employed in 1778, in many parts of the country, as a major-general, and as the head of a separate Division; and after having received the thanks of congress for his important services, embarked at Boston in January, 1779, for France, thinking he could assist us more effectually, for a time, in Europe than in America. He arrived at Versailles, then the regular residence of the French court, on the 12th of February, and the same day had a long confer ence with Maurepas, the prime minister. He was not permitted to see the king; and in a letter written at court the next day, we are told, that he received an order to visit none but his relations, as a form of censure for having left France without permission ; but this was an order that fell very lightly on him, for he was connected by birth or marriage, with almost every body at court, and every body else thronged to see him at. his own hotel. The treaty which was concluded between America and France at. just about the same pe riod, was, by Lafayette's personal exertions, made effective in our favor. He labored unremittingly to induce his government to send us a fleet and troops; and it was not until he had gained this point, and ascer tained that he should be speedily followed by Count Rochambeau, that he embarked to return . He reached the head quarters of the army on the 11th of May, 1780, and there confidentially commu*- nicaled the important intelligence to the commander-in-chief. Immediately on his return from his furlough, he resumed his place in our service with the same disinterested zeal he had shown on his first arrival. He received the separate command of a body of in- LAFAYETTE. 353 fantry, consisting of about two thousand men, and equipped it partly at his own expense, rendering it, by unwearied exertions, constant sacrifices and wise discipline, the best corps in the army. What he did for us, while at the head of this division, is known to all who have read the history of their country. His forced march to Virginia, in December, 1780, raising two thousand guineas at Baltimore on his own credit, to supply the pressing wants of his troops; his rescue of Richmond, which, but for his great exertions must have fallen into the enemy's hands; his long trial of generalship with CornwaHis, who foolishly boasted, in an intercepted letter, that "the boy could not escape him;" and finally the siege of Yorktown, the storming of the redoubt, and the surrender of the place in October, 1781, are proofs of talent as a military commander and devotion to the welfare of these states, for which he never has been repaid, and, in some re spects, never can be. He was, however, desirous to make yet greater exertions in our fa vor, and announced his project of revisiting France for the purpose. Congress had already repeatedly acknowledged his merits and servi ces in formal votws. They now acknowledged them more formally than ever by a resolution of November 23d, in which, besides all other expressions of approbation, they desire the foreign ministers of this government to1 confer with him in their negotiations concerning our affairs; a mark of respect and deference of which we know no other example. In France, a brilliant reputation had preceded him. The cause of America was already popular there; and his exertions and sacrifices in it, which, from the first, had seemed so chivalrous and romantic, now came reflected back upon him, in the strong light of popular en thusiasm. While he was in the United States for the first time, Vol taire made his remarkable visit to Paris, and having met madame de Lafayette at the Hotel de Choiseuil, he made her a long harangue on the brilliant destinies that awaited her husband as a defender of the great cause of popular freedom ; and ended by offering his homage to her on his knees. It is not remarkable, therefore, with such a state of feeling while he was still absent from the country, that on his return he was followed by crowds in the public streets wherever he went; and that in a jour ney he made to one of his estates in the south of France, the towns through which he passed received him with processions and civic hon ors; and that in the city of Orleans he was detained nearly a week by the festivities they had prepared for him. ¦ 354 LAFAYETTE. He did not, however, forget our interests amidst the popular admi ration with which he was surrounded. On the contrary, though the negotiations, for a peace were advancing, ho was constantly urging upon the French government the policy of sending more troops to this country, as the surest means of bringing the war to a speedy and fa vorable termination. He at last succeeded; and count d'Estaing wae ordered to hold himself in readiness to sail for the United States as soon as Lafayette should join him. When, therefore, he arrived at Cadiz, he found forty-nine ships and twenty thousand men ready to follow him, first for the conquest of Jamaica, and then for our assist ance ; and they would have been on our coast early in the spring, if peace had not rendered further exertions unnecessary. This great event was first announced to congress, by a letter from Lafayette, dated in the harbor of Cadiz, February 5, 1783. As soon as tranquility was restored, Lafayette began to receive pressing invitations to visit the country, whose cause he had so ma terially assisted. Washington, in particular, was extremely urgent; and yielding not only to these instances, but to an attachment to the United States, of which his whole life has given proof, he embarked ao-ain for our shores and landed at New- York on the 4th of August, 1784. His visit, however, was short. He went almost immediately to Mount Vernon, where he passed a few days in the family of which he was so long a cherished member, and then visiting Annapolis, Bal timore, Philadelphia, New- York, Albany, and Boston, received every where with unmingled enthusiasm and delight, he re-embarked for France. But when he was thus about to leave the United States for the third, and, as it then seemed, the last time, congress, in Decem ber, 1784, appointed a solemn deputation, consisting for its greater dignity, of one member from each state, with instructions to take leave of him on behalf of the whole country, and to assure him, "that these United States regard him with particular affection, and will not cease to feel an interest in whatever may concern his honor and pros perity, and that their best and kindest wishes will always attend him." It was at the same time resolved, that a letter be written to his most christian majesty, expressive of the high sense which the United States in congress assembled, entertain ofthe zeal, talents, and mer itorious services ofthe marquis de Lafayette, jyid recommending him to the favor and patronage of his majesty. We are not aware, that a more complete expression of dignified and respectful homage could have boon offered to him. During the year that followed the arrival of Lafayette in his own LAFAYETTE. 355 country, he found the minds of men more agitated on questions of political right than they had ever been before. He went, for a short time, in 1785, to Prusshvfor the purpose of seeing the troops of Fred erick second, and was received with distinguished kindness and con sideration by that remarkable monarch; at whose court, by a singular coincidence of circumstances, he frequently met with lord Cornwallis, and several other officers who had fought against him in the campaign that ended at Yorktown. But the grave and perilous discussions that were then going on in France, soon called him back from Prus sia. Into some of those discussions, he entered at once ; on others he waited ; but on all, his opinions were openly and freely known, and on all, he preserved the most perfect consistency. He was for some time ineffectually employed with Malesherbes, the minister of Louis sixteenth, in endeavoring to relieve the protestants of France from political disabilities, and place them on the same footing with other subjects. He was the first Frenchman who raised his voice against the slave trade; and it is worth notice, that having devoted considera ble sums of money to purchase slaves in one ofthe colonies, and edu cate them for emancipation, the faction, which in 1792 proscribed him as an enemy to freedom, sold these very slaves back to their original servitude. And finally, at about the same time, he attempted with our misister, Mr. Jefferson, to form a league of some of tho Euro pean powers against the Barbaresque pirates, which, if it had suc ceeded, would have done more for their suppression than has been done by Sir Sidney Smith's association, or is likely to follow lord Exmouth's victories. But while he was busied in the interests, to which these discus^ sions gave rise, the materials for great internal changes were collect ing together at Paris from all parts of France; and in February, 1787, the assembly of the notables was opened. Lafayette was, of course, a member, and the tone he held throughout its session, contributed! essentially to give a marked character to its deliberations. He pro posed the suppression of the odious lettres de cachet, of which Mira- beau declared in the national assembly, that seventeen had been issued against him before he was thirty years old; he proposed the enfranchisement ofthe protestants, who, from the time ofthe aboli tion of the edict of Nantz, had been suffering under more degrading disabilities than the catholics now are in Ireland, and he proposed by a formal motion,— --which was the first time that word was ever used in France, and marks an important step towards a regular delibera tive assembly, — he made a motion for the convocation of representa- 356 LAFAYETTE. tives of the people. "What," said the count d'Artois,. now Charles tenth, who presided in the assembly of the notables, "do you ask for tbe states general ?" "Yes," replied Lafayette, "and for something more and better;" an intimation, which, though it can be readily un derstood by all who have lived under a representative government, was hardly intelligible in France at that time. Lafayette was also a prominent member of the states general, which met in 1789, and assumed the name of the national assembly.. He proposed in this body a declaration of rights, not unlike our own, and it was under his influence, and while he was, for this very pur pose, in the chair, that a decree was passed, on the night ofthe 13th and- 14th of July, at the moment the Bastile was falling before the cannon ofthe populace, which provided for the responsibility of min isters, and thus furnished one of the most important elements of a representative monarchy. Two days afterwards, he was appointed commander-in-chief of the national guards at Paris, and thus was placed at the head of what was intended to be made, when it should be carried into all the departments, the effective military power of the realm, and what, under his wise management, soon became such. His great military command, and still greater personal influence, now brought him constantly in contact with the court and the throne. His position, therefore, was extremely delicate and difficult, espe cially as the popular party in Paris, of which he was not so much the head as the, idol, was already in a state of perilous excitement, and atrocious violences were beginning to be committed. The abhorrence ofthe queen was almost universal, and was excessive to a degree of which we can now have no just idea. The circumstance that the court lived at Versailles, sixteen miles from Paris, and that the session of the national assembly was held there, was another source of jealousy, irritation, and hatred on the part of the capital. The people of Paris, therefore, as a sign of opposition, had mounted their municipal cock ade of blue and red, whose effects were already becoming alarming. Lafayette, who was anxious about the consequences of such a mark ed division, and who knew how important are small means of con ciliation, added to it, on the 26th of July, the white of the royal cock ade, and as he placed it on his own hat, amidst the acclamations of the multitude, prophecied, that it "would go round the world;" a pre diction which is already more than half accpmplished, since the tri- colored cockado has been used for tlie ensign of emancipation, in Spain, in Naples, in some parts of South America, and in Greece. Still, however, the tendency of every thing was to confusion and LAFAYETTE. 857 violence. The troubles of the times, too, rather than the want of the means of subsistence, had brought on a famine in the capital ; and the populace of the Fauxbourgs, the most degraded certainly in France, having assembled and armed themselves, determined to go to Ver sailles; tBe greater part, with a blind desire for vengeance on the roy al family, but others only with the purpose of bringing' the king from Versailles, and forcing him 'to reside in the more ancient but scarcely habitable palace of the Thuilleries, in the midst of. Paris. The national guards clamored, to accompany this savage 'multitude; La fayette opposed their inclination; the municipality of Paris hesitated, but supported it; he resisted nearly Jjie whole of the 5th of October> while the road to Versailles was already thronged with an exaspera ted mob of above an hundred thousand ferocious men and women, until, at last, finding the multitude were armed, and even had. cannon, he asked, and received an order to march, from the competent autho rity, and set off at four o'clock in .the afternoon, as one going to a post of imminent danger, which it had clearly become his duty to occupy. He arrived at Versailles at ten o'clock at night, after having been on horseback from before daylight in the morning, and having made, during the whole interval, both at Paris and on the road, incredible ex ertions to control the multitude and calm the soldiers. "The mar quis de Lafayette at last entered the chateau," says madame de Stael, and passing through- the apartment where we were^went to the king. We all pressed round him, as if he were th§ master of events, and yet the popular party was already more powerfuPtban its chief, and principles were yielding to factions, or rather, were beginning to serve only as their pretext. M. de Lafayette's manner was perfectly calm; nobody ever saw it otherwise; but his delicacy suffered from the im-; portance of the part he was called to act. He 'asked for the. interior posts of the chateau, in order that he might ensure their safety. Only the outer posts were granted him." This was not disrespectful to him who made the request. It was given simply because the eti quette of the court reserved the. guard of the royal- person and family to another body of men. Lafayette therefore, answered for the national guards, and for the posts committed to them ; but he could answer for no more; and his pledge was faithfully and desperately redeemed. , Between two and three o'clock, the queen and the royal family went to bed. Lafayette too, slept, after the great fatigues of this fear ful day. At half past four, a portion of the populace made their way into the palace by an obscure interior passage, which had been 46 358 LAFAYETTE. overlooked, and which was not in that part of the chateau entrusted to Lafayette. They were evidently led by persons who well knew the secret avenues. Mirabeau's name was afterwards strangely com promised in it, and the form of the infamous duke of Orleans was repeatedly recognized on the great staircase, pointing the assassins the way to the queen's chamber. They easily found it. Two of her guards were cut down in an instant; and she made her escape almost naked. Lafayette immediately rushed in with the national troops, protected fhe guards from the brutal populace, and saved the lives of the royal- family, which had so nearly been sacrificed to the etiquette of monarchy. * The day dawned as this fearful scene of guilt and bloodshed was passing in the magnificent palace, whose construction had exhausted the revenues of Louis Fourtee nth, and which, for a century, had been" the most splendid residence in Europe. As soon as it was light, the same furious multitude filled the vast space, which, from the rich ma terials of which it is formed, passes under the name of the court of marble. They called upon the king in tones not to be mistaken, to go to Paris ; and they called for the queen, who had just escaped from their daggers, to come out upon the balcony. The king, after a short consultation with his ministers, announced his intention to set out for the capital; but Lafayette was afraid to trust the queen in the midst of the blood-thirsty multitude. He went to her therefore, with re spectful hesitation, and asked her if it were her purpose to accompa ny the king to Paris. "Yes," she replied, "although I am aware of the danger." "Are you positively determined ?" "Yes, sir." "Con descend then to go out upon the balcony, and suffer me to attend you." "Without the king?" — she replied, hesitating — "have you observed the threats?" "Yes, madam, I have; but dare to trust me." He led her out upon the balcony. It was a moment of great responsibility and great delicacy; but nothing, he felt assured, could be so danger ous as to permitf her to set out for Paris, surrounded by that multitude, unless its feelings could be changed. The agitation, the tumult, the cries of the crowd, rendered it impossible that his voice should be heard. It was necessary, therefore, to address himself to the eye, and turning towards the queen, with that admirable presence of mind which never yet forsook him, and with that mingled grace and digni. ty which were the peculiar inheritance of the ancient court of France, he simply kissed her hand before the vast multitude. An instant of silent astonishment followed; but the whole was immediately inter preted, and the air was rent with cries of "long live the queen!" LAFAYETTE. 359 "long live the general !" from the same fickle and cruel populace, that only, two hours before, had embrued their hands in the blood pf the guards, who defended the life of this same queen. The same day that this scene was passing, the first meeting pf the Jacobin club was held. Against this club and its projects, Lafayetjje at once declared himself. With Bailly, the mayor of Paris, he organ ized an opposing club, and the victory between the two parties was doubtful for above a year and a half. The contest, however, which was produced by this state of things, placed Lafayette in a very em barrassing and dangerous position. He was obliged to oppose the unprincipled purposes of the Jacobins, without retreating towards the principles of the ancient despotism ; and it is greatly to his honor, that he did it most faithfully and consistently. When therefore, on the 20th of June, 1790, a proposition was suddenly made in the as sembly to abolish all titles of nobility, Lafayette, true to his princi ples, rose to second it. A short discussion followed. It was objected to the, abolition of rank, that if there were no titles, no such reward could be conferred as was once conferred by Henry second, when he created an obscure person according to the terms of his patent, "noble and count, for having saved the country at such a time." "The only difference," replied Lafayette, "will be, that the words noble and count wiil be left out, and the patent will simply declare, that on such an occasion, such a man saved the state." From this time Lafayette renounced the title of marquis, and has never since resumed it. Since tbe restoration of the Bourbons indeed, and the revival of the ancient nobility, there has been sometimes an affectation among the ultra royalists of calling him by his former title ; but he has never recognized it, and is still known in France, only by the address of general. At least, if he is sometimes called otherwise there^-it is not by his friends. At length the constitution of a representative monarchy, much more popular than thatpf Great Britain, which Lafayette's, exertions had, from the first opening of the assembly, beeu consistently devoted to establish, was prepared ; and all were desirous that it should be re ceived and recognized by the nation in the most solemn manner. The day chosen as most appropriate for the ceremony, was the 14th of July, 1790, the anniversary of the destruction of the Bastile, and the open space behind the military school, called the Champ de Mars, from the Campus Martius of the Romans, was the place fixed on for this great national festival and solemnity. By the constant labor ot above two hundred thousand persons of both sexes and all ranks, from 360 LAFAYETTE. dukes and duchesses, bishops and deputies, down to the humblest ar tisans, who all made the occasion like the Saturnalia of the ancient?, an amphitheatre of earth four mites in circumference was raised in a few weeks, whose sides were formed of seats destined to receive the French people, and amidst which stood the throne and the altar. On the morning of the day when the whole was to be consummated, the king, the court, the clergy, the national assembly, a deputation of the military from the eighty-three departments, and a body of people amounting to above four hundred thousand souls were assembled in this magnificent amphitheatre. Mass was first said, and then Lafay ette, who, that day had-the military command of four millions of men, represented by 14,000 elected military deputies, and who held in his hands the power of the monarchy, swore to the constitution on behalf of the nation, at the altar which had been erected in the midst of the arena. Every eye of that immense mass was turned on him; every hand was raised to join the oath he uttered. It was, no doubt, one of the most magnificent and solemn ceremonies the world ever saw ; and perhaps, no man ever enjoyed the sincere confidence of an entire people more completely than Lafayette did, as he thus bore the most imposing part in these extraordinary solemnities. The Champ de Mars, however, as madame de Stael has well ob served, was the last monument of a genuine national enthusiasm in France. The Jacobins were constantly gaining power, and the revo lution was falling more and more into the hands of the populace. When the king wished to" go to St. Cloud with his family, in order to pass through the duties of Easter, under the ministration of a priest who had not taken certain civil oaths, which, in the eyes of many conscientious Catholics desecrated those who- received them, the popu lace and the national guards tumultously stopped his carriage. La<- fayette arrived at the first suggestion of danger. "If," said he, "this be a matter of conscience with 3rour majesty, we will,- if it is neces sary, die to maintain if," and he offered immediately to open a pas sage by force; but the king hesitated at first, and finally determined to remain in Paris. Lafayette indeed, under all circumstances, remained strictly faith ful to his oaths; and now defended the freedom of the king, as sin cerely as he had ever defended the freedom of the people. His situa tion, therefore, became every day more dangerous. He might have taken great power to himself, and so have been safe. He might have received the sword of constable of France, which was worn by the Montmorencies, but he declined it; or he might have been general- LAFAYETTE. 361 issimo of the national guards, who owed their existence to him; but he thought it more for the safety of the state that no such power should exist. Having, therefore, organized this last body, according to the project he had originally formed for it, he resigned all command at the dissolution of the constituent assembly, with a disinterestedness of which, perhaps, Washington alone could have been his example; and retired to his estate in the country followed, as he had been for many years, by crowds wherever he went, and accompanied on hi3 way by every form of popular enthusiasm and admiration. From the tranquility to which he now gladly turned, he was soon called by the war with Austria, declared April 20th, and in which he was at once appointed one of the three generals to command the French armies. His labors in the beginning of this war, whose de claration he did not approve, were very severe; and the obstacles he surmounted, some of which were purposely thrown in his way by the factions of the capital, were great and alarming. But the Jacobins at Paris were now a well organized body, and were fast maturing their arrangements to overturn the constitution. Violences of almost every degree of atrocity were become common, and that public order of which Lafayette had never ceased to speak on all suitable occasions, no longer existed . Under these circumstances, he felt that his si lence would' be an abandonment of the principles to the support of which he had devoted his life ; and with a courage which few men in any age have been able to show, and with a temperance, which has always kept his conduct on one even line, he wrote a letter to the na tional assembly, dated June 16th, in which he plainly denounced the growing faction of Jacobins, and called on the constituted authorities to put a stop to the atrocities this faction was openly promoting. In the course of this letter, he dared to say, "let the royal authority be untouched, for it is guaranteed by the constitution ; let it be indepen dent, for its independence is one of the springs of our liberty; let the king be respected, for he is invested with the majesty of the nation ; let him choose a ministry that shall wear the chains of no faction; and if traitors exist, let them perish only under the sword of the law." There was not another man in France who would have dared to take such a step at such a time; and it required all Lafayette's vast influ ence to warrant him in expressing such opinions and feelings, or to pro tect him afterwards. At first the Jacobins seemed to shrink from a contest with him. He said to the assembly, "let the reign of clubs, abolished by you, give place to the reign of the law," and they almost doubted whether he 362 LAFAYETTE. had not yet power enough to effect what he counselled. They began, therefore, as soon as the letter had been read, by denying its authenti city : they declared it, in short, to be a forgery. As soon as Lafay ette heard of this, he came to Paris, and avowed it at the bar of the assembly- The 20th of June, however, had overthrown the consti tution before his arrival; and though he stood with an air of calm command amidst its ruins, and vindicated it as proudly as ever, he was after all, surrounded by those who had triumphed over it. Stilly the majority of the assembly was decidedly with him, and when on the 8th of August, his impeachment was moved, more than two-thirds voted in his favor. But things were daily growing worse. On the 9th of August) the assembly declared itself no longer free : and with in two days, its number fell to less than one-third, and the capital was given up to the terrors of the 10th of August. Lafayette there fore, could do nothing at Paris, and returned to his army on the bor ders of the low countries. But the army too, was now infected. He endeavored to assure himself of its fidelity, and proposed to the sol diers to swear anew to the constitution. A very large proportion re fused, and it immediately became apparent from the movements, both at Paris and in the army, that he was no longer safe. His adversaries, who, for his letter, were determined and interested to ruin him, were his judges; and they belonged to a party which was never known to devote a victim without consummating the sacrifice. On the 17th of August, therefore, accompanied by three of his general officers, Alex andre Lameth, Latour Maubourg, and Bureaux de Puzy, he left the army, and in a few hours was beyond the limits of France. His gen eral purpose was to reach the neutral territory of the republic of Hol land, which was quite near : and from that point either rally the old constitutional party, or to pass to Switzerland or the United States, where he should be joined by his family. That he did not leave France while any hope remained for him, is certain; since, before his ¦ escape was known ac Paris, a decree, accusing him of high treason, which was then equivalent to an order for his execution, was carried " in what remained of the assembly, by a large majority. Lafayette and his companions hoped to avoid the enemy's posts, but they did not succeed. They were seized the same night by an Austrian patrol, and soon afterwards recognized. They were not ¦ treated as prisoners of war, which was the only quality in which they could have been arrested and detained ; but were exposed to dis graceful indignity, because they had been the friends of the constitu tion. After being detained a short time by the Austrians, they were LAFAYETTE. 363 given up to the Prussians, who, because their fortresses were nearer, were supposed to be able to receive and guard them more convenient ly. At first they were confined at Wesel on the Rhine, and after wards in dungeons at Magdeburg. But the Prussians at last became unwilling to bear the odium of such unlawful and disgraceful treat ment of prisoners of war, entitled to every degree of respect from tbeir rank and character; and especially from the manner in which tbey had been taken. They, therefore, before they made peace, gave them up again to the Austrians, who finally transferred them to most unhealthy dungeons in the citadel of Olmutz. The sufferings to which Lafayette was here exposed, in the mere spirit of a barbarous revenge, are almost incredible. He was warned, "that he would never again see any thing but the four walls of his dungeon ; that he would never receive news of events or persons; that his name would be unknown in the citadel, and that in all accounts of him sent to court, he would be designated only by a number; that he would never re ceive any notice of his family, or the existence of his fellow prisoners." At the same time, knives and forks were removed from him, as he was officially informed, that bis situation was one which would natu rally lead him to suicide. n His sufferings, indeed, proved almost beyond his strength. The want of air and the loathsome dampness and filth of his dungeon, brought him more than once to the borders of the grave. His frame was wasted with diseases, of which, for a long period, not the slight est notice was taken; and on one occasion, he was reduced so low that his hair fell from him entirely by-, the excess of his sufferings. At the same time,' his estates in France were confiscated, his wife cast into prison, and Fayettisme, as adherence to the constitution was called, was punished with death. His friends, however, all over Europe, were carefully watching every opportunity to obtain some intelligence, which should at least render his existence certain. Among those who made the most vigor ous and continued exertions to get some hint of his fate, was count Lally Tolendal, then a refugee from his blood-stained country. This nobleman became acquainted in London with Dr. Erick Bollman, a Hanoverian, who immediately after the massacres of August lOtb, 1792, had been employed by madame de Stael to effect the escape of count Narbonne, and by great address and courage, had succeeded in conveying him safely to England. Dr. Bollman's adventurous spirit easily led him to engage in the affairs of Lafayette. His first expe dition to the continent, under the direction of Lafayette's friends in 364 LAFAYETTE. London, in 1793, was, however, no further successful than that ,he k learned the determination of the' Prussian government to give up La fayette1 to Austria, and the probability that he ihad been already, trans ferred. Where he was, and whether he were even alive, were cir- curnstances Dr. Bollman found it impossible to determine. But the friends of Lafayette were not discouraged. In June, 1794, they'agaiiHeht Dr. Bollman to Germany to ascertain what had been his fate, apd if he were still alive, to endeavour to procure his escape. With great difficulty, he traced the French prisoners to the Prussian frontiers, and there ascertained that an Austrian escort had received th'em, and- taken the road to Olmutz, a strong fortress in Moravia, one hundred and fifty miles north of Vienna, and near the borders of Si- • lesia. At Olmutz, Dr. Bollrrmn ascertained that several state prison-, ers were kept in the citadel with a -degree of caution and mystery, which must haye been not unlike that used towards, the half fabulous personage in the iron mask. He did not doabt but Lafayette was one of them, and making himself professionally acquainted with the mili tary surgeon of the post, soon became sure of it. By very ingenious - means, Dr. /Bollman contrived to communicate his- projects through this surgeon to Lafayette, and to obtain answers without exciting the _ surgeon's suspicions; until at last,"after the lapse of several months, during which, to avoid all risk, Dr. Bollman made a long visit at Vi enna, it was determined that an attempt should be made to Tescue La fayette, while on one of the airings with which he was then regular ly indulged, on account of his broken health. As soon as this was arranged, Dr. Bollman returned to Vienna, and.; communicated his project to a young American by the name of Fran- t cis K. Huger, then accidentally in Austria, son of the person at whose; house near Charleston, Lafayette had been first received on his land ing in America, a young man of uncommon talent, decision and en- . thusiasm, who-at once entered into the whole'design, and devoted him- v self to its execution with the «most romantic earnestness. These* were the only two.persons on the continent, except Lafayette himself, who had the slightest suspicion of these arrangements for his rescue, and neither of these persons knew him by sight, ti was, therefore, i. concerted between the /two parties, after the two friends had come to Olmutz, in November, that to avoid all mistakes when the rescue should- be attempted, each should take off his hat and wipe his fore head, in sign of recognition; and then, having ascertained a day when Lafayette w°uld ride out, Dr. Bollman and Mr. Huger sent their carriage ahead to Hoff, a post about twenty-five miles on the road they LAFAYETTE. 365 wished to take, with directions to have it waiting for them at a given hour'. The rescue they determined to attempt on horseback; and they put no balls into their pistols, and took no other weapons, think' ing it would be unjustifiable to commit a murder even to effect their purpose. Having ascertained that a carriage which they supposed^must con tain Lafayette, since there was a prisoner and an officer inside, and a guard behind, had passed out of the fortress, they mounted and fol lowed. They rode by it, and then slackening their pace, and allowing it again to go ahead, exchanged signals with the prisoner. At two or three miles from the gate, the carriage left the high road, and passing into a less frequented track in the midst of an open country, Lafay ette descended to walk for exercise, guarded only by the officer who had been riding-with him. This was evidently the moment for their attempt. They therefore rode up at once, and after an inconsiderable struggle with the officer, from which the guard fled to alarm the cita del, the rescue was completed. One of the horses, however, had escaped during the contest, and thus only one remained with which to proceed. Lafayette was immediately mounted on this horse, and Air. Huger told nim ,in English, to go to Hoff. He mistook what was said to him for a mere general direction to go off — delayed a moment to sse if he could not assist them — then went on — then rode back again, and asked once more, if he could be of no service — and finally urged anew, galloped slowly awa)-. The horse that had escaped was soon recovered? and both Dr. Boll man and Mr. Huger mounted him, intending tor follow and assist La fayette. But the animal proved intractable, threw them and left them for some time stunned by their fall. On recovering their horse a se cond time, Dr. Bollman alcne mounted ; Mr. Huger thinking that from his own imperfect knowledge of the German, he could not do as much towards effecting their main purpose. These accidents defeated their romantic enterprise. Mr. Huger, who could now attempt his escape only on foot, was soon stopped by some peasants, who had witnessed what had passed. Dr. Bollman easily arrived at Hoff; but not find ing Lafayette there, lingered about the frontiers till the next night, when he too was arrested and delivered up to the Austrians. And fi nally, Lafayette having taking a wrong road and pursued it till his horse could proceed no further, was stopped at the village of Jagers- doff, as a suspicious person, and detained there till he was recognized by an officer from Olmutz, two days afterwards. All three of them wore brought back to the citadel and separately confined, without 47 366 LAFAYETTE. being permitted to know any thing of each other's fate. Mr. Huger was chained to the floor, in a small arched dungeon, about six*feet by eight, without light and with only bread and water for food, and once in six hours, by day and by night, the guard entered, and with a lamp, examined each brick in his cell and each link in his chain. To his earnest request to know something of Dr. Bollman, and to learn whether Lafayette had escaped, he received no answer at all. To his more earnest request to be permitted to send to his mother in America, merely the words, "I am alive," signed with his name, he received a rude refusal. Indeed, at first, every degree of brutal se verity was practised towards both of them; but afterwards, this seve rity was relaxed. The two prisoners were placed nearer together, where they could communicate; and their trial for what, in Vienna, was magnified into a wide and alarming conspiracy, was begun with all the tedious formalities that could be prescribed by Austrian fear and caution. How it would have turned, if they had been left en tirely unprotected, it is not difficult to conjecture : but at this crisis of their fate, they were secretly assisted by count Metrowsky, a noble man living near their prison, whom neither of them had ever seen, and who was interested in them, only for what in the eyes- of his go vernment, constituted their crime. The" means he used to influence the tribunal that judged them, may be easily imagined, since they were so far successfulf-that the prisoners, after having been confined for trial eight months, were sentenced only to a fortnight's imprison ment, and then released. A few hours after they had left Olmutz, aa order came from Vienna, directing a new trial,, which, under the man agement of the ministers, would of course have ended very differ ently from the one managed by count Metrowsky; but the prisoners were already beyond the limits of the Austrian Dominions. Lafayette, in the meanwhile, was thrown back into his obscure and ignominious sufferings, with hardly a hope that they could be termina ted, except by his death. During the winter of 1794-5, he was re duced to almost the last extremity by a violent fever; and yet was deprived of proper attendance, of air, of suitable food, and of decent clothes. To increase his misery, he was made to believe that he was only reserved for a public execution, and that his chivalrous deli verers would perish on the scaffold before his window; while at the same time, he was not permitted to know whether his family were still alive, or had fallen under the revolutionary axe, of which, du ring the few days he was out of his dungeon, he had heard such ap palling accounts. LAFAYETTE. 367 Madame de Lafayette, however, was nearer to him than he could imagine to be possible. She had been released from prison, where she too, had nearly perished ; and having gained strength sufficient for the undertaking, and sent her eldest son for safety to the care of general Washington, she set out, accompanied by her two young daughters, for Germany, all in disguise, and with American pass ports. They were landed at Altona, and proceeding immediately to Vienna, obtained an audience of the emperor, who refused to liberate Lafayette, but as it now seems probable, against the intentions of his ministers, gave them permission to join him in his prison. They went instantly to Olmutz; but before they could enter, they were de prived of whatever they had brought with them to alleviate the mise ries of a dungeon, and required, if they should pass its threshold, never again to leave it. Madame de Lafayette's health soon sunk under the complicated sufferings and privations of her loathsome im prisonment, and she wrote to Vienna for permission to pass a week in the capita], to breathe purer air and obtain medical assistance. Two months elapsed before any answer was returned ; and then she was told, that no objection would be made to her leaving her husband ; but if she. should do so, she must never return to him. She immediately and formally signed her consent and determination "to share his cap tivity in all its details :" and never afterwards made an effort to leave him, IVladame de Stael has well observed when on this point of the history of the French revolution; — "antiquity offers nothing more ad mirable than the conduct of general Lafayette, his wife, and his daughters, in the prison of Olmutz." One more attempt was made to effect the liberation of Lafayette, and it was made in the place and in the way that might have been expected. When the emperor of Austria refused the liberty of her husband to madame de Lafayette, he told her that "his hands were tied." In this remark, the emperor could, of Course, allude to ho law or constitution of his empire, and therefore his hands could be tied only bv engagements with his allies in the war against France. En gland was one of these allies, and general Fitzpatrick, in the house of commons, made a motion for an enquiry into the case, in which he was supported by colonel Tarleton, who had fought against Lafayette in Virginia. Afterwards on the 16th of December, 1796, general Fitzpatrick renewed his attempt more solemnly, and was supported in it by Wilberforce, by Sheridan, and by Fox, in one of his most powerful and happy speeches; but the motion was lost. One effect, however, unquestionably followed from tit : — a solemn and vehement 368 LAFAYETTE. discussion on Lafayette's imprisonment, in which the empeivr of Aus tria found no apologist, had been held in the face of all Europe; and all Europe, of course, was informed of his sufferings in the most solemn and authentic way. When, therefore, general Clarke was sent from Paris to join Bo naparte in Italy, and negotiate a peace with the Austrians, it was un derstood that he received orders from the directory to stipulate for the deliverance of the prisoners in Olmutz, since it was impossible for France to consent to such an outrage on the rights of citizenship, as would be implied by their further detention. On opening the ne gotiation, an attempt was made on the part of Austria, to compel La fayette to receive his freedom on conditions prescribed to him; bu' this he distinctly refused ; and in a document that has often been pub lished, declared with a firmness which we can hardly believe would have survived such sufferings, that he would never accept his libera tion in any way that should compromise his rights and duties, either as a Frenchman or as an American citizen. Bonaparte often said, that of all the difficulties in this protracted negotiation with the coa lition, the greatest was the deliverance of Lafayette. He was, how ever, at last released with his family, on the 25th of August, 1797; madame de Lafayette and her daughters having been confined twen ty-two months, arid Lafayette himself five years, in a disgraceful spi rit of vulgar cruelty and revenge, of which modern history can afford, we trust, very few examples. France was still too little settled to promise peace or safety to La fayette and his family. They proceeded first to Hamburg; and then, after causing their rights both as French and American citizens to be formally recognized, went to the neighboring neutral territories of Holstein, where they lived in retirement and tranquility about a year. There they were joined by their eldest son, who came to them from the family of general Washington ; there too, their eldest daughter was married to Latour Mauburg, brother of the person who had shared Lafayette's captivity : and there he first devoted himself with great earnestness to those agricultural pursuits, which have since constituted the occupation and the happiness of his life. From Hol stein he went, at the formal invitation of the Batavian republic, and established himself for several months at Utrecht in Holland, where he was treated with great consideration and kindness, and wjiere he had the advantage of being nearer to the borders of his own country. While he was thus living tranquil and huappy, but anxiously watching the progress of events in France, the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, LAFAYETTE. 369 November 10th, 1799, happened and promised for a time to settle the government of his country on a safer foundation. He immediately returned to France, and established himself at La Grange; a fine old castle, surrounded by a moderate estate, about forty miles from Paris, where he has lived ever since. When, however, Bonaparte, to whom the revolution of the 18th Brumaire had given supreme control, began to frame his constitution, and organize his government, Lafayette perceived at once, that the principles of freedom would not be permanently respected. He had several interviews and political discussions with the consul, and was much pressed to accept the place of Senator, with its accompanying revenues, in. the new order of things ; but he refused, determined not to involve himself in changes which he already foresaw he should not approve. In 1802, Bonaparte asked to be made first consul for life : Lafayette voted against it, entered his protest, and sent a letter to Bonaparte himself; and from this moment, all intercourse between them ceased. Bonaparte even went so far as to refuse to promote Lafayette's eldest son, and his son-in-law Lasteyrie, though they dis tinguished themselves repeatedly in the army; and once, when a re port of the services of the former in a bulletin was offered him, he erased it with impatience, saying, "these Lafaycttes cross my path every where." Discouraged, therefore, in every way in which' they could be of service to their country, the whole family was at last col lected at La Grange, and lived there in the happiest retirement, so long as the despotism of Bonaparte lasted. The restoration of the Bourbons in 1814, made no change in La fayette's relations. He presented himself once at court, and was very kindly received; but the government they established was so different from the representative government, which he had assisted to form and sworn to support in 1789, that he did not again present himself at the palace. The Bourbons, by neglecting entirely to un derstand or conciliate the nation, at the end of a year brought back Bonaparte, who landed the first of March, 1815, and reached the capital on the 20th. His appearance in Paris was like a theatrical illusion, and his policy seemed to be to play all men, of all parties. like the characters of a great drama, around him. Immediately on his arrival upon the soil of France, he endeavored to win the old friends of French freedom; and the same day that he made his ir ruption into the ancient palace of the Thuilleries, he appointed Car- n.othis master of war, and Carnot was weak enough to accept the ap pointment with the title of count. In a similar way, be endeavored 370 LAFAYETTE. to obtain the countenance and co-operation of Lafayette. Josepn Bonaparte, to whom Lafayette was personally known, and for whom he entertained a personal regard, was employed by the emperor to consult and conciliate him; but Lafayette would hold no communion with the new order of things. He even refused, though most pres- singly solicited, to have an interview with the emperor; and ended, when still further urged, by positively declaring that he could never meet him unless it should be as a representative freely chosen by the people. On the 22d of April, Napoleon offered to the French nation, his acte additional, or an addition, as he chose to consider it, to the con stitutions of 1799, 1802, and 1804; confirming thereby the principles of his former despotism, but establishing among other things, an he reditary chamber of peers, and an elective chamber of representa tives. This act was accepted, or pretended to be accepted by the votes of the French people ; bat Lafayette entered his solemn protest against it, in the same spirit with which he had protested against the consulship for life. The very college of electors, however, who re ceived his protest, unanimously chose him, first to be their president and afterwards to be their representative; and the emperor, deter mined to obtain his influence, or at least his silence, offered him the first peerage in the new chamber he was forming. Lafayette was as true to his principles as he had often been before, under more difficult circumstances. He accepted the place of representative, and declined the peerage. As a representative of the people, he saw Bonaparte for the first time, at the opening of the chambers, on the 7th of Juue. "It is above twelve years since we have met, general," said Napoleon, with great kindness of manner, when he saw Lafayette ; but Lafayette received the emperor with marked distrust; and all his efforts were directed as he then happily said they should be, "to make the chamber, of which he was a member, a representation of the French people, and not a Na poleon club." Of three candidates for the presidency of the cham ber on the first ballot, Lafayette and Lanjuinais had the highest num ber of votes; but finding that the emperor had declared he would not accept Lanjuinais if he should be chosen, Lafayette used great exer tions and obtained a majority for him; to which, circumstances com pelled Napoleon to submit. From this moment until after the battle of Waterloo, which happened in twelve days, Lafayette did not make himself prominent in the chamber. He voted for all judicious sup plies, on the ground that France was invaded, and that it was the duty LAFAYETTE. 371 of all Frenchmen-to defend their country; but he in no way implica ted himself in Bonaparte's projects or fortunes, with which it was impossible that he could have any thing in common. At last, on the 21st of June, Bonaparte arrived from Waterloo, a defeated and desperate man. He was already determined to dissolve the representative body, and assuming the whole dictatorship of the country, play at least, one deep and bloody game for power and suc cess. Some of his council, and among the rest, Regnault de St. Jean d'Angley, who were opposed to this violent measure, informed Lafay ette that it would be taken instantly, and that in two hours the cham ber of representatives would cease to exist. There was, of course, not a moment left for consultation or advice; the emperor or the chamber must fall that morning. . As soon, therefore, as the session was open ed, Lafayette, with the same clear courage and in the same spirit of self-devotion, with which he stood at the bar of the national assem bly in 1792, immediately ascended the tribune for the first time for twenty years, and said these few words, which assuredly would have been his death warrant, if he had not been supported in them by the assembly he addressed; "when, after an interval of many years, I raise a voice which the friends of free institutions will still recognize, I feel myself called upon to speak to you only of the dangers of the country, which you alone have now the power to save. Sinister in timations have been heard; they are unfortunately confirmed. This, therefore, is the moment for us to gather round the ancient tri-colored standard; the standard of '89, the standard of freedom, of equal rights, and of public order. Permit then, gentlemen, a vetaran in this sacred cause, one who has always been a stranger to the spirit of faction, to offer you a few preparatory resolutions, whose absolute ne cessity, I trust, you will feel as I do." These resolutions declared the chamber to be in permanent session, and all attempts to dissolve it, high treason; and they also called for the four principal ministers to come to the chamber and explain the state of affairs. Bonaparte is said to have been much agitated, when word was brought him sim ply that Lafayette was in the tribune; and his fears were certainly not ill founded, for these resolutions, which were at once adopted, both by the representatives and the peers, substantially divested him of his power, and left him merely a factious and dangerous individual in the midst of a distracted state. He hesitated during the whole day, as to Ihe course he should pur sue; but at last, hoping that the eloquence of Lucien, which had saved him on the 18th Brumaire, might bo found no loss effectual 372 LAFAYETTE. now, he sent him with three other ministers, to the chamber, just at the beginning of the evening; having first obtained, a vote that all should pass in secret session. It was certainl) a most perilous crisis. Reports were abroad, that the populace of the Fauxbourgs had been excited, and were arming themselves. It was believed, loo, with no little probability, that Bonaparte would march against the chamber as he had formerly marched against the council of five hundred, and disperse them at the point of the bayonet. At all events, it was a contest for existence, and no man could feel his life safe. At this mo ment, Lucien rose, and in the doubtful and gloomy light which two vast torches shed through the hall and over the pale and anxious features of the members, made a partial exposition of the state of affairs and the projects and hopes he still entertained. A deep and painful si lence followed. At length, Mr. Jay, well known above twenty years ago in Boston, under the assumed name of Renaud, as a teacher of the' French language, and an able writer in one of the public newspa pers of that city, ascended the tribune, and, in a long and vehement speech of great eloquence, exposed the dangers of the country, and ended by proposing to send a deputation to the emperor, demanding his abdication. Lucien immediately followed. He never showed more power, or a more impassioned eloquence. His purpose was to prove, that France was still devoted to the emperor, and that its re sources were still equal to a contest with the allies. "It is not Napo leon," he cried, "that is attacked, it is the French people. And a proposition is now made to this people, to abandon their emperor; to expose the French nation, before the tribunal of the world, to a severe judgment on its levity and inconsistency. No, sir, the honor of this nation shall never be so compromised!" On hearing these words, Lafayette rose. He did not go to the tribune: but spoke, contrary to rule and custom, from his place. His manner was perfectly calm, but marked with the very spirit of rebuke; and he addressed himself, not to the President, but directly to Lucien. "The assertion, which has just been uttered, is i calumny. Who shall dare to accuse the French nation of inconstancy to the emperor Napoleon? That na tion has followed his bloody footsteps through the sands of Egypt and through the wastes of Russia; over fifty fields of battle; in dis aster p. s faithfully as in victory; and it is for having thus devotedly follow echini, that we now mourn the loss of three millions of French men." These few words made an impression on the assembly which could not be mistaken or resisted; and, as Lafayette ended, Lucien himself bowed respectfully to him, and without resuming his speech, sat down. LAFAYETTE. 373 It was determined to appoint a deputation of five members from each chamber, to meet the grand council of the ministers, and deli berate in committee on the measures to be taken. This body sat du ring the night, under the presidency of Cambaceres, arch-chancellorf of the empire. The first thing that was done in this committee, was to devise and arrange every possible means of resisting the invasion of the allies and the Bourbons ; and Lafayette was foremost in giving the government, for this purpose, every thing that could be asked. But it was apparent, from the representations of the ministers them selves, that they could carry on the war no longer. Lafayette then moved that a deputation should be sent to Napoleon, demanding his abdication. The arch -chancellor refused to put the motion; but it was as much decided, as if it had been formally carried. The next morning, June 22d, the emperor sent in his abdication, and Lafayette was on the committee that went to the Thuilleries, to thank him for it, on behalf of the nation. It had been the intention of a majority of both chambers, from the moment of their convocation, to form a free constitution for the coun try, and to call the whole people to arms to resist the invasion. Tn both of these great purposes they had been constantly opposed by Bonaparte, and in the few hurried and anxious days that preceded the battle of Waterloo, there had been time to do very little. There was now nothing but confusion. A project was arranged to place Lafay. ette at the head of affairs, because it was known that he could carry with him the confidence of the nation, and especially that of the na tional guards, whom he would immediately have called out en masse. But a scene of most unworthy intrigues was immediately begun. A crude, provisional government was established, with the infamous Fouche as its President, which lasted only a few days, and whose principal measure was the sending of a deputation to the allied pow ers, of which Lafayette was the head, to endeavor to stop the invasion ?of France. This, of course, failed, as had been foreseen ; Paris sur rendered on the 3d of July, and what remained of the representative government, which Bonaparte had created for his own purposes, but which Lafayette had turned against him, was soon afterwards dis solved. Its doors were found guarded on the morning of the 8th, but by what authority has never been known; and the members met at Lafayette's house, entered their formal protest, and went quietly to their own homes. Since this,era, general Lafayette remained for many years in re tirement, and took but little part in- public affairs. He was twice 48 374 LAFAYETTE. returned a member of the chamber of deputies since 1817, in opposi tion to all the influence of the ministerial party. He, in general, has taken but little part in the business of the legislature,*believing that he could do no good. But the plan of the ministers to establish a cen sorship over the press, aroused the patriotism and spirit of this vete ran of three revolutions. He declared with great energy, that the law was incompatible with even the most limited freedom, and an out rage on the rights of the people ; and he "conjured the servants of the crown to maintain the liberties of France within the limits prescribed by the constitution. To violate it, is to dissolve the mutual guaran tees of the nation and the throne; it is to give ourselves up to total , .primitive freedom from all duties and from all laws." The proposed law was adopted by a small majority; which led to the institution of a society, consisting of the members of the opposi tion and other liberals, for the relief of those who might suffer on ac count of the unjust restrictions on the press. General Lafayette was placed at the head of this society. A As general Lafayette could discover but little gratifying to him in the political condition and future prospects of his native country, his heart seemed to have inclined,- with unusual fondness, to the country of his adoption — to his dear America, the theatre of his early and suc cessful struggles in the cause of liberty ; where his patriotism and services in that sacred cause are duly appreciated, and where he is honored, venerated, and almost adored. Having signified to many Americans, and others, his intention of visiting the United States once more, numerous public and private letters were written to him from this country, expressing much satisfaction at this intelligence, and the hope that the citizens of the United States would soon be grati fied by seeing among them this distinguished friend of America and great apostle of liberty. Among other communications were letters from the mayors of New-York and Boston, inviting him to visit those^ cities; and in January, 1824, congress adopted a resolution, re-Ji questing the president "to offer him a public ship for his accommoda tion, an d to assure him, in the name of the people of this great repub lic, that they cherished for him a grateful and affectionate attach ment." This national respect, more honorable, perhaps, than any individual ever received before under similar circumstances, he de clined, probably from motives of delicacy; but embarked at Havre, j(the port at which he had three times before set sail for the United States,) in a private vessel, and arrived at New-York on the 15th of August, 1824. He was accompanied by his son, George Washington Lafayette, and his friend and private secretary, M. Lavassieur. LAFAYETTE. 375 The reception which general Lafayette met with at this commercial metropolis of the United States, and in every other town which he visited or through which he passed, was such as became the free citi zens of the freest nation on earth, to offer to the first and most vene rated patriot of the age, and the early and undeviating friend of Ame rica, who had sacrificed his fortune and his blood in establishing its independence and liberty. Although he came among us as a private individual, he was received as a public or national character, as the guest of the country, and honored as the distinguished and disinter ested benefactor of America ; to whom ten millions of freemen ac knowledged themselves measurably indebted for the political privi leges and blessings which they enjoy. No man ever received, and no one can receive greater honor than this : the homage and gratitude of an entire nation; unbribed and unbought, flowing spontaneously, the free-will offering of the heart; the universal impulse which vibra ted as the pulse of fhe nation. These honors from the people, in their individual and primary character, called for corresponding conduct from the nation in its col lective and corporate capacity ; and the representatives of the people met the wishes of their constituents, and as the organs of the public will, in the name of the nation showed that respect to the distin guished benefactor of the country, which corresponded with the sen timents manifested by the people. They did more; they offered a more substantial tribute of respect, and in some measure, discharged the obligations of the nation to its disinterested and illustrious bene factor. President Monroe, in his message at the opening of the session, re commended to congress to make some remuneration to general Lafay ette, for his services and sacrifices in the revolutionary war, worthy the national character. The suggestion of the president, which was in accordance with the sentiments of the people, was very honorably followed up by congress, which manifested its respect and liberality, both in a manner wholly unexampled. A committee was raised in each house to consider and report what provision it would be proper to make for general Lafayette, which re ported a bill granting to him two hundred thousand dollars, in stock to be created for that purpose, and a township of land, to be located on any of the unappropriated lands of the government. This bill after some slight opposition, which only served to call forth a disclo sure of the immense expenditures and sacrifice of this veteran patriot during the six years he was engaged in our revolutionary struggle, 376 LAFAYETTE. was adopted,, there being only seven dissenting voices in the senate, and twenty-six in the house. It was stated Tby Mr. Haynes, in the senate, that he had documents in his hand, which had been obtained without the interference or knowledge "of Lafayette, from which it incpntestably appeared, that during six years of the American war he expended in the service seven hundred thousand francs, or one hundred and forty thousand dollars. This sum, at compound inter est, for forty-three years, Would amount tp more than a million of dol lars. Mr. Haynes also stated another fact, highly honorable to the general. In 1803, congress granted him a tract of eleven thousand five hundred and twenty acres of land, to be located in any of tho unappropriated lands of the government; and his agent located one thousand acres in the county of Orleans, in the vicinity of the city of New-Orleans. Without attending to this fact, congress subse quently included this tract in a grant of land made to that city. This tract was then worth fifty thousand dollars, and is now said to be val ued at five hundred thousand. Notwithstanding this, and although advised that his title was^indubitably valid, the general, with singu lar delicacy of feeling, ¦ immediately relinquished his claim, and caused a deed to be recorded, remarking, "that he would not enter into controversy; the act had been gratuitous, and congress best knew what they intended to bestow." The following is the act : — - "Be it enacted by the senate and house of representatives of the United States of America, in congress assembled, That in considera tion of the services and sacrifices of general Lafayette, in the war of the revolution, the secretary of the treasury be, and he is hereby au thorised to pay to him the sum of two hundred thousand dollars out of any money in the treasury not otherwise appropriated. Sec. 2. And be it further enacted, that there be granted to the said general Lafayette, and his heirs, one township of land, to be laid out and located under the authority of the president, in any of the unap propriated lands of the United States. "H. CLAY, "Speaker of the house of representatives, "JOHN GAILLARD, 1 ¦ "President of the senate, pro. tempore. -"Washington, Dec. 28th 1824— Approved: "JAMES MONROE." After the return of Lafayette to France, he resumed his agricultu ral pursuits at La Grange, till the breaking out of the revolution of STEUBEN. 377 July, 1830. The events of that revolution are so recent that a par ticular detail in this place is unnecessary. It is well known, that on the firstrising of the Parisian population, for the purpose of resisting the illegal measures of Charles X., that Lafayette repaired to Paris, and lent all his efforts to overthrow the tyranny of the Bourbons. When this was accomplished, and Louis Phillipe called to the throne, Lafayette was, appointed commander of the national guards. This post he held-but a few months, owing to a misunderstanding between him and the new king, since which time he has been looked upon with suspicion and distrust by the court. His popularity is still unbounded with the people ; and at the present time, October, 1831, he is a mem ber of the chamber of deputies; and often makes his voice heard in favor of tlie same principles of liberty, which he imbibed When fight ing the battles of our revolutions. What great events still await him it is impossible to tell. He is now upwards of seventy years of age, but retains, in a remarkab'e degree, all the powers and faculties of mind, and his bodily activity is very little impaired. BARON DE STEUBEN. Major-General in tlie American Army. Among tlie foreign officers who repaired to the American standard, and nobly and generously assisted in achieving our independence, now have higher claims upon our gratitude" and esteem, after Lafayette, than the "good Baron Steuben," born and educated under a despotic government, he still was not insensible to the blessings of freedom and the rights of man. Frederick William Steuben was a native of Prussia, and born in the year 1735. Being designed for the profession of arms, he re ceived a military education, and was early engaged in military em ployments. His military science, undoubted bravery, and assiduous attention to duty, did not escape the penetration of the' great Frede rick; and soon procured for the young baron, the confidence of his sovereign and the most honorable preferment. For many years, he served in the memorable campaigns of his sovereign, the greatest commander of the age, with distinguished reputation. This was a school, in which the dullest oould hardly fail of acquiring experience and knowledge in the art of war; and at the same time opened a 378 STEUBEN. field, sufficiently capacious for the most ardent aspirant for military lame. The war, which was terminated by the peace of 1763, in which France, Austria, Russia, Sweden and Saxony, were united against Prussia, and which was commenced on the part of the allies, for the conquest and spoliation of the dominions of his Prussian majesty, afforded the boldest and most successful campaigns, and the most splendid victories, of any in modern times. The exertions of the king of Prussia, in sustaining himself, with the assistance of Great Britain, as his ally, against so many, and so powerful enemies, was truly astonishing. But his active genius overcame all difficul ties, taught his enemies to respect him, and secured to him a military reputation, not second to any commander of the age. To have served with this great general, in his memorable campaigns, and taken a part in such great and splendid victories as those of Prague, Lissa, Crevelt, Zoondorff, Mindin and Torgau, was sufficient to confer expe rience and establish a military character, of no ordinary distinction. But to have performed this service, under a commander so severe, with success and honor, and to have secured his highest confidence, was a more conclusive proof of military genius and talents. And that baron Steuben did this, is sufficiently evident, from the single fact, was there no other, of his having served as aid to his Prussian majesty — who would have no officer around his person, that did not sustain the first reputation for courage and capacity. The baron rose to the high rank of lieutenant-general in the Prussian service. At the breaking out of the American war, there was a general peace in Europe, which favored the wishes of those patriots and ad venturers in that hemisphere, who desired to signalize their valor and patriotism, in assisting an infant people, struggling for their rights. Among the numerous foreigners who honored the American cause by crossing the Atlantic to serve it, some, no doubt, acted from no other motive than those which usually govern the conduct of mili tary adventurers. Many however, without doubt, were influenced by more noble and exalted motives; a regard for liberty, and a sin cere desire to establish it in the new world, which might serve both as an asylum, and an example for the old . And, notwithstanding the arbitrary government of Prussia, under which he had lived, such were the sentiments and views of baron de Steuben, His enlight ened mind led him to esteem civil liberty as the highest earthly good; and he was desirous of consecrating his attachment to it, by his ser vices, if not by his blood. He sailed from France to the United States, and arrived at Portsmouth, in New-Hampshire, in November, STEUBEN. 379 1777. He brought with him strong recommendations from the Ame rican commissioners at Paris and others, to congress. Notwithstand ing which, however, he informed that body, that he wished for no rank, or compensation, and only requested permission, as a volunteer, to render what service he could to the American army, and the cause in which the country was engaged. The following winter he spent at Valley Forge-, where the American army was in winter quarters, under Washington. As is well' known, the army, at this time, was in a most suffering condition ; being in want of provisions, clothing, and almost every thing which their comfort required. But notwith standing these discouraging circumstances, baron de Steuben exerted himself, with great assiduity, to improve the discipline and manoeu vres of the army. From his great military science and experience, his prudent conduct, and the interest he manifested in the cause he had espoused, he soon acquired the confidence of Washington. Ear-. ly in the year 1778, general Conway resigned the office of inspector- general; and Washington, sensible of the great military skill and acquirements of Steuben, immediately recommended him to congress for that important post: which was soon after conferred upon him, with the rank of major-general. Being clothed with authority, and it being now hi3 particular duly to attend to the discipline of the troops, his distinguished talents as a tactician, were soon rendered conspicuous in the improved discipline of the troops. He exerted himself to introduce a uniform and im proved system of manoeuvres, and by his skill, perseverance and in dustry, effected, during the continuance of the troops at Valley Forge, a most important and advantageous improvement in the discipline of all ranks of the army. After general Arnold had treacherously deserted his post at West Point, the baron never failed to manifest his indignation and abhor rence of his name and character, and while inspecting colonel Shel don's regiment of light-horse, the name of Arnold struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to the front, he was a fine looking fellow, his horse and equipments in excellent order — "change your name, bro ther soldier," said the baron, "you are too respectable to bear the name of a traitor." "What name shall I take, general ?" "Take any other name; mine is at your service." Most cheerfully was the offer accepted, and his name was entered on the roll as Steuben. He or his children now enjoy the land given to him in the town of Steu ben by the baron. This brave soldier met him after the war. "1 am well settled, general," said he, "and have a wife and son; I have 380 STEUBEN. called my son after you, sir." "I thank you,my friend; what name have you given the boy?" . "I called him Baron — what else could I call him?" When Sir Henry Clinton evacuated Philadelphia, for New-York, and was pursued by Washington, -Steuben accompanied the American army; and although he had no particular command, he volunteered inthe action at Monmouth. He continued his exertions to improve the discipline of the army and to introduce his system, and thus es tablish uniformity throughout the different corps of the army: and for this purpose, in 1779, an abstract of his system of discipline and tactics was published, in compliance with the wishes of the com mander-in-chief, and of congress. This, being put into the hands of all the officers, had a wonderful influence in improving and giving uniformity to the different corps of the army. In October, ,1780, after the defeat and dispersion of the. southern army at Camden, under general Gates, great anxiety was felt for the fate of the southern states; and congress, in a particular manner, di- rcted their attention to thestate of the war in that department. Gen. Greene was appointed lo supercede Gates ; major Lee was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and ordered to join the southern army with his legionary corps; and baron de Steuben was directed to pro ceed to Virginia, to organize from the militia and other elements which the state afforded, the means of defence against the forces of the ene my, then in the state, and threatening the destruction of its principal towns. While upon this dut3',a regiment had been collected, and was para ded on the point of marching, when a well looking man on horse back, rode up and informed the baron that he had brought him a re cruit. "I thank you, sir," said the baron, "with all my heart; where js your man, colonel?" for he was a colonel in the militia. "Here, sir," ordering his boy to dismount. The baron's countenance changed, for he was too honest to suffer an imposition to be practised on the public. A sergeant was ordered to measure the lad, whose shoes, when off, discovered something by which his stature had been in creased. The baron, patting the child's head with his hands, trem bling with rage, asked him how old he was? He was very young, quite a child. "Sir," said he to the militia colonel, "you must have supposed me to be a rascal." "Oh no! baron, I did not." "Then, sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infamous rascal, thus to attempt to cheat your country. Sergeant, take off this fellow's spurs, and place him in the ranks, that we may have a man able to serve, instead of STEUBEN. 381 an infant, whom he would- basely have made his substitute! Go, my boy, take the colonel's spurs and horse to his wife; make my compli ments, and say, her husband has gone to fight for the freedom of his country, as an honest man should do,"- — and instantly ordered — '^pla toons! to the right wheel- — forward, march!" ¦>- , Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearing the conse quences, after marching some distance, allowed the man to escape, who immediately made application to the civil authority for redress; but governor Jefferson, Mr. iVladison, and others, not doubting the pu rity of tho baron's motive, and fully appreciating his honest zeal, pre vented any disagreeable results attending this high-handed exertion of military power. Great apprehensions were felt, for the safety of Richmond, threat ened by, the British general Leslie at Portsmouth; but about the time the. baron arrived at the capital of Virginia, the enemy left Ports mouth* which prevented the necessity of those measures which had been planned for his expulsion, and Virginia, for a short tjme, re mained tranquil. Early in January, '81, however, this repose was disturbed by the arrival of the traitor Arnold in the Chesapeake, who landed his forces on the James River, a few miles below Richmond. His ravages were immediately felt at Richmond, Smithfield, and other places. Baron de Steuben exerted himself to collect and organize a force of militia to oppose his destructive progress. This induced Ar nold to retire to Portsmouth, and commence works 'of defence. But the militia came in slow, and a considerable portion of which being without arms, the baron could do. no more than protect the country from the predatory incursions of -small parties. , These movements in Virginia induced congress to order Lafayette to the south, to oppose Arnold, ,with the expected cooperation of the French fleet. AH the troops of the continental establishment Qf Virginia, being under gen eral Greene, in South Carolina, the defence of the state, against the depredations of the enemy, rested on.the militia,, of which the baron had collected about 2,000; one half were on the north side of James River, under general Nelson, and with the other half, the baron made an attempt to protect Petersburg!], but-his means being wholly inade quate to the object, he was obliged to retreat and suffer4he enemy to enter tbe town. Previous to this, Arnold had been re-inforced by gen eral Phillips, who had taken the chief command. The baron could do no more than watch the motions of the enemy,. and check the pre datory incursions of small parties. On the arrival of the marquis Lafayette, yith a small force of ie- 40 382 STEUBEN. gulars, he joined Steuben, and took upon'him the chief command'. Their united force checked the progress of general Phillips, and compelled him fo turn his steps towards City Point, where his fleet lay.-" In the various marches and counter-marches which characterized the operations between Lafayette and lord Cornwallis, who soon after assumed the command of the British forces in Virginia, the baron Steuben afforded the most prompt and ready assistance to, the young marquis.' He was stationed at Point Fork, with five hundred new levies, to protect, the American stores, when Tarleton was ordered to destroy them; and as the enemy approached, being led into a belief" that the whole British army was near, he deemed it advisable te make a rapid retreat during the night, leaving all the stores to fall a sacrifice to the enemy. But though he lost the stores, he saved his men, and succeeded in joining the marquis, at the same time that he received a re-inforcement of the rifle corps undercolonel Clark, which enabled the marquis to assume a more imposing attitude. The baron continued to co-operate with Lafayette in the subsequent events of the campaign which was' terminated by the siege of Yorktown. He generally had the command of militia, or of new levies, and was im-^j proving their discipline whilst he was aiding the operations of the marquis. He was present during the siege of Yorktown, and exerted himself with great ardor in the various operations, and commanded in the trenches on the. day the enemy surrendered, and was entitled to a share in the honor of this memorable siege, which so gloriously terminated the great struggle in which the country was engaged. "At the siege of Yorktown, the baron was in the trenches, at the head of his division, and received the first overture of lord Cornwallis to capitulate. At the relieving hour, next morning, the marquis de- Lafayette approached at the head of his division, to relieve him. The baron refused to quit the trenches, assigning as a reason the eti quette in Europe, that the offer to capitulate had been made during his tour of duty, and that it was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his troops, to remain in the trenches till the capitulation was signed or hostilities recommenced. The dispute was referred to the commander-in-chief, and the baron was permitted to remain till the British flag was struck. While on this duty, the baron, perceiv ing himself in danger from a shell thrown from the enemy, threw himself suddenly into the trench; general Wayne, in the jeopardy and hurry of the moment, fell on him; the baron, turning his eyes, saw it was his brigadier, "I always knew you were brave, general,™ STEUBEN. 383 -said he, "but I did not know you were so perfect in every point of duty, you cover your geaeral's retreat in the best manner possible.' "* The Baron returned to the northward, and remained with the army, continually employed, till the peace, in perfecting its discipline. "At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates of the same tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating and pro bably forever; grasping each other's hand, in silent agony, I saw," says Dr. Thacher in his Military Journal, "the baron's strong en deavors to throw some ray of sunshine on the gloom, to mix some drops of cordial with the painful draught. To go, they knew not whither; all recollection of the art to thrive by civil occupations, lost, or to the youthful never known. Their hard-earned military knowledge worse than useless, and with their badge of brotherhood, a mark at which to point the finger of suspicion — ignoble, vile suspi cion ! to be cast out on a world, long since by them forgbtten. Se vered from friends and all the joys and griefs which soldiers feel ! Griefs, while hope remained — when shared by numbers, almost joys! To go in silence and alone, and poor and hopeless; it was too hard! On that sad day how many hearts were wrung ! I saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my view. To a stern old officer, a lieutenant-colonel Cochran, from the Green Mountains, who had met danger and difficulty almost in every step, from his youth, and from whose furrowed visage, a tear, till that moment had never fallen; the good baron said what could be said, to lessen deep dis tress. For myself, said Cochran, "I care not, I can stand it ; but my wife and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not where to remove, nor have I means for their removal !" "Come my friend," said the baron, "let-us. go — 1 will pay my re spects to Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you please." "I fol lowed to the loft, the lower rooms being all filled with soldiers, with drunkenness, despair and hlasphemy. And when the baron left the poor unhappy cast aways, he left hope with them, and ali he had to give." A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the wharf — (for it was at Newburg where this tragedy was acting) — there was a vessel in the stream, bound to tbe place where he once had/riends. He had not a dollar to pay his passage, and he could not walk. Un used to tears, I saw them trickle down this good man's cheeks as he put into the hands of the black man the last dollar he possessed! The negro hailed the sloop, and cried, "God Almighty bless you, master baron !" * Th acber's Military Journal. 384 STEUBEN. The following anecdote is -highly creditable the to magnanimity and honorable feeling of the Baron. The baron was a strict disciplinarian. One day on a march, some disorder occurred in the ranks, which would have been of a serious character had it taken place during battle. This disorder was errone ously attributed by the baron, to the misconduct of a young ensign. The ensign was immediately ordered to the rear as a mark of dis grace. He retired under the deepest mortification. As soon as op portunity presented, the colonel of the regiment represented the affair in its true light to Steuben. "Order ensign . •* ' to come to the front," was his prompt command. When the young man made his appear ance, the baron pulled off his hat, and in the presence of the whole army, made a dignified and ingenuous apology for the wound he had inflicted upon him. No eye among the soldiers was unwet, while the baron stood uncovered, the rain beating upon his bald head, and re paired the injury he had done to the feelings of a brother officer so much beneath him in rank. Here was true greatness and magna nimity, for the wise man hath declared, "greater is he that ru-leth his own Spirit, than he that taket^i a city." What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the accursed parly spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love the baron? Who most? Those who knew him best. After the peace, the baron retired to a farm in the vicinity of New-York, where, with forming a system for the organization and discipline of the militia, books, chess; and the frequent visits of his-numerous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a frequent want of funds would permit. The State of New-Jersey had given him a small improved farm, and the State of New-York gave him a tract of sixteen thousand acres of land in the county of Oneida. After the general government was in full opera tion, by the exertions of colonel Hamilton, patronized and enforced by president Washington, a grant of two thousand five hundred dol lars per annum was made to him for life. The "summers were now chiefly spent on his land, and his winters in the city. His sixteen thousand acres of land were in the uncultivated wilderness; he built a convenient log nouse, cleared sixty acres, parcelled out his land on easy terms to twenty or thirty tenants, distributed nearly a tenth of the tract in gifts to his aids-de-camp and servants, and sat him self down to a certain degree contented without society, except that of a young gentleman who read to and with him. He ate only at dinner, but he ate with strong appetite. In drinking he was always temperate; indeed he was free from every vicious habit. His powers kosciuskp. 385 of mind and body were strong, and he received, to a certain extent, a liberal education. His days were undoubtedly shortened by his sedentary mode of life. He was seized with an apoplexy, which in a few hours was fatal. Agreeably to his desire, often expressed, he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain coffin, and hid in the ear'h, without a stone to telk where he lies. A few neighbors, his servants,* the young gentleman, his late companion, and one on whom fur fifteen years his countenance never ceased to beam with kindness, followed to the grave. It was in a thick, a lonely wood, but in a few years after, a public highway was opened near or over the hallowed sod! Colonel Walker snatched the poor remains of his dear friend from sa crilegious violation, and gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he laid them, from rude and impious intrusion. He died in 1795, in the 65th year of his age."* Baron Steuben possessed profound and extensive professional knowledge, tha result of much study and experience, which was uni ted with a 'competent share of general science and intelligence, ma tured by great experience; ho was accomplished in his manners, cor rect in. his morals, and was sincerely attached to the dearest interests of humanity. His system of discipline and tactics was adopted in the militia of the United Slates, and continued to be used for a great number of years; and had a very extensive and salutary influence in promoting discipline and knowledge of the use of arms. KOSCIUSKO, • * Colonel in the American Army. When the fame of our revolutionary struggle reached Europo, it drew to our standard, many distinguished foreigners, men of consid erable military science; who noblj lent their aid to an infant people struggling in defence of their liberties, in what was supposed by many an unequal contest. Kosciusko, one of the first and bravest of the Polish patriots, was among the most celebrated and disinterested of this number. AJthougn it does not appear that he performed much, or any ve/y important service in the American war, yet, from his dis tinguished character as a patriot, and the noble struggles he has made *Thacher's Military Journal. 386 kpsciuskp. in defence of the independence of his own country, and to realize the last hopes of its friends, a sketch of his life cannot be but|interesting, and properly belongs to a work containing the memoirs of the milita ry heroes of the American revolutionary war. This high-minded. patriot was firstdistinguished in the war which terminated, in the first dismemberment of Poland by Russia, Austria and Prussia. Poland, had long been distracted with dissensions, often breaking oufjnto civil war; and particularly since the conquest of the country by Charles XII. ef Sweden, which led to the interference of Russia, and afterward that dangerous neighbor always had a strong parly in Poland, and generally a controlling influence. Charles XII. con- " quered Augustus, and compelled him to abdicate in favor of Stanis laus Leczinski, whom he had previously caused to be elected king. The armies of the Czar, which Augustus had availed himself of, had not been .sufficient to save him from this humiliating result. The battle of Pultowa overthrew the power of Charles; and Augus tus was restored by the aid of Russia, the latter taking care to be well paid for its friendly interference. During the reign of this prince and his son, Augustus IL, Poland was little better than a Rus sian province, surrounded by Russian troops; and the country torn to pieces by contentions among the nobles, they were kept on the throne only by the power of Russia. On the death of Augustus II. in 1764, Catharine II. empress of Russia, compelled the diet to elect Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Pole of noble rank, who had resided for some time at Petersburgh, and made himself agreeable to the empress, who supposed that his election would promote the influence and designs of Russia. This increased the disorders, and inflamed the rage of the two great parties, the Rus sian and. anti-Russian, towards each other. At this time, to their po litical causes of dissension, were added those of religion. The pro testants, who in Poland were called dissidents, had long been tolera ted, but still suffered under many ciyil disabilities, which were great ly increased by a decree that was passed during the interregnum that preceded the election of Poniatowski. They were, in a great mea sure, denied the free exercise of religious worship, and excluded from all political privileges. This Unjust and impolitic measure roused- the spirit of the protestants, they petitioned and remonstrated;' they applied to the courts of Russia, Prussia, Great Britain and Denmark, - ail of which remonstrated to the government of Poland, but without, any essential effect. Some unimportant concessions were made, which did not satisfy the dissidents, who were determined to maintain kokciusko. 387 their rights with their blood, being encouraged to this determination by assurance of support from Russia, Austria, and Prussia. The catholics were not behind their opponents in preparations for war, and the "confederation of the Barr" formed tlie bulwark of their strength and hopes. With both parties, religion and liberty became the watch word and a signal for war. The confederates, as the catholics were denominated, not only wished to overcome their opponents, but to-de- throne Stanislaus, and rescue the country from the influence of Rus sia. This desperate civil war was very gratifying to the ambitious neighbors of Poland, who, a considerable time before, had entered in to a secret treaty for the conquest and partition of Poland. The ar mies of Russia, Prussia, and Austria invaded the country in' various directions, and seized on different provinces. The confederates, or the- anti-Russian party, comprising most 'of the distinguished Polish patriots, made a resolute and determined struggle; but, being feebly supported by Saxony and France, and having to contend with numerous forces of the coalition which inva ded the country, as well as those of their opponents at home, they were defeated in every quarter, and the country left a prey to the three royal plunderers. They issued a manifesto, declaring that the dissensions and disorders of Poland bad rendered their interference necessary, and that they had adopted combined measures for the re- establishment of good order in Poland, and the settlement of its an -¦ cient constitution, and to secure the nationaland popular liberties of the people on a solid basis. But the security and protection which they afforded to unhappy Poland, was like that which the wolf af fords to the lamb, and the tears they shed over her misfortunes, were like those of the crocodile when preying on its victim. Instead of securing the rights of the dissidents, which was the professed object of- the war, the combined sovereigns thought only of aggrandizing themselves; and, after, great difficulty, they finally succeeded in di viding the spoil, a trea'y for the partition of Poland being concluded at Petersbufgh, in February, 1772; Russiactook a large proportion of the eastern provinces; Austria appropriatedto herself a fertile tract on the southwest, and Prussia fhe commercial district in the north west, including the lower part of Vistula ; leaving only the central provinces, comprising Warsaw and Cracovv, the modern and ancient capital. Thus was Poland despoiled by three royal robbers, which Europe wrfnessed, not without astonishment, but without an effectual interference. The courts Of London, Paris, Stockholm, and'Copen- hagen remonstrated against tbis violent usurpation, which probably had as much effect as was expected — none at all. 388 KOSCIUSKP. In this unjust and cruel war, Kosciusko -had taken an active and *• zealous part in defence of the independence of his country; bgt.his >-', patriotism and exertions were "unavailing; the patriotic Poles could not resist the power of faction and the invading armies of three for midable ^neighbors. To strengthen acquisitions, the allied powers in sisted on Stanislaus convoking a diet, to sanction the partition^ and, notwithstanding the, influence of three powerful armies,'the diette- o -fused to ratify this injustice for a considerable time; but, by promises of favors, and by profuse use of money among the members, to gether, with the influence of military force, a majority of six in the senate, and of one in the assembly, was.at length obtained in favor of the iniquitous measure, and commissioners were appointed to adjust the terms of the partition. This completed the humiliation and de gradation of Poland, and occasioned many of her most distinguished patriots to leave their dismembered and unhappy, country .. This took place in May, }773r. Kosciusko was among those who retired from the country. The war that broke out between the American colonies and Grea,t Britain, opened a field for military .adventurers'from Europe, it being supposed that America was destitute of men of military science and experience, and- being justly regarded as a contest for liberty, between an infant people, few ih number, and with feeble means, and the most powerful nation on earth, many patriots of the old world re paired to America as volunteers in the cause of freedom. The first events and successes of the contest, and the dignified attitude as sumed by the solemn declaration of independence,'produced the most favorable impression abroad, which brought many distinguished for- ¥ eigners lo our shores in the early part of the year 1777. The dis tinguished Polish patriot who is the subject of this brief notice, aud his countryman^ count Pulaski, were among the number. It is no,t known at what time either of them arrived, but it is believed it was early in the year 1777, as the latter was present and distinguished ' himself in the battle of Brandywine. So, many foreigners of dis tinction arrived, that congress was embarrassed in giving them em ployment corresponding with their expectations and rank;* and -from the commissions which were given to foreigners, disagreeable jealou sies were produced amohg'the native officers of the continental army. Kosciusko, like the marquis de Lafayette and others, had been influ enced wholly by patriotic motives and an ardent attachment to liber ty) "he had no occasion to acquire military fame, and he possessed a soul which raised him infinitely above becoming a mercenary soldier. kpsciuskp. 389 He wanted neither rank nor emolument; his object was to serve the cause, not to serve himself. He, however, received a colonel's com mission, and was employed under general Greene, in the southern campaign of 1781. In the attack on Ninety-Six, a very strong post of the enemy in South Carolina, Kosciusko being a skilful engineer, Greene intrusted to him the important duty of preparing and con structing the works for the siege. He continued in the service until after the capture of Cornwallis at Yorktown, which terminated all the important operations of the war. On leaving America, Kosciusko returned to his native country, where he exerted himself for the improvement of the political condi tion of his countrymen, and promoting the general prosperity. Stan- islaus exerted himself to improve what territory was left him by his friendly neighbors; a taste for agriculture was cherished; the condi tion of the peasantry, who had been so long enslaved and degraded, was raised ; and a national system of education established. But the most important improvement was in . the constitution of the state. The disorders and factions which had so long and so unhappily pre vailed, had convinced all enlightened patriots, that ths existing con stitution was the fertile source of their internal dissensions; and that it was incompatible with the tranquillity or prosperity of tlie country. After repeated attempts, the diet, in 1791, succeeded in establishing a new constitution on just and liberal principles, so wisely framed, that Mr. Burke commended it, by saying that the condition of all was made better, and the rights of none infringed. But the prosperity and hopes which these /improvements were cal culated to afford, were soon dissipated. Poland was again destined to become the victim of the "she bear" of the North. A few of the nobles, disaffected at the new constitution, which had deprived them of some of their privileges, presented their complaints to the court of Petersburgb, which, glad of a pretext for interfering in the affairs of Poland, immediately marched a numerous army into the country, for the ostensible object of re-establishing the constitution of 1772. But the real designs of Russia were too apparent to be mistaken; and the Poles did not delay in making preparations for hostilities. This base aggression, and the remembrance of her former rapacity, aroused the nation to a sense of its danger; all dissensions and ani mosities were forgotten in the common struggle ; a spirit worthy tbe occasion was excited, and every class and rank were resolved to con quer or die in defence of the independence and liberties of their coun try. The nobles presented their plate and valuable jewels to enrich 50 390 KOSCIUSKO. the treasury, and afford the means of carrying on the war. The prince, Poniatowski, nephew of the king, and Kosciusko, were at the head of the armies, and displayed prodigies of valor.- But with all their exertions, bravery, and perseverance, they were unable to resist the power of Russia, whose armies were almost every where success ful. And being threatened by the empress with a devastation of the country, if he made further resistance, and that she would double her present force, Stanislaus, to prevent further effusion of blood, surren dered at discretion, and was conveyed to Grodno, to await the decision of' the conqueror. Neither the king nor the nation were long kept in suspense, for soon the courts of Russia and Prussia promulgated a manifesto, declaring their- intention, of annexing to their dominions several of the adjoining provinces of Poland. This was early in the year 1793. Not satisfied with their former spoliations, the king of Prussia and empress of Russia, resolved to lighten the burdens of government, which they believed too heavy for Stanislaus to sustain, by a second partition of his kingdom. Accordingly the latter seized on the coun try from the Dwina to the Neister; and assuming the civil govern ment of the territory, the inhabitants were ordered to take the oath of allegiance to her imperial majesty, or abandon the conquered district; and the king of Prussia, not to be behind his ally in a neighborly re gard for Poland, wrested from it several provinces, besides the cities of Dantzic and Thorn. These high-handed depredations were made with the assent of the emperor of Austria, and pretended to be neces sary precautions against the contagion of jacobinal principles, which might otherwise infect their dominions bordering on Poland. Again a diet was convoked, and compelled, by military power, to sanction this second partition of the Polish dominions. The Russian ambas sador informed the diet, "that to prevent any kind of disorder, he had caused two battalions of grenadiers, with four pieces of cannon, to surround the castle, to secure the tranquillity of their deliberations." But although the country had been rent in pieces, the spirit of the na tion was not destroyed; and as long as a particle remained, such in justice and violence was calculated to call it into action. The nation was roused, and the patriotism of the Polish nobles was once more called forth. It was readily perceived that nothing could be done without a leader, and the eyes of all were directed to Kosciusko, who had taken refuge in Saxony, with Potocki, Kolontay, and Zajonzek. These four resolute patriots. rejoiced at the spirit of resistance to op pression which was roused among their countrymen, and were pre. KOSCIUSKP. 391 pared to exert all their energies, and to shed the last drop of their blood for the independence and freedom of their oppressed and much injured country. Zajonzek was despatched to Warsaw, to learn the state of affairs, to confer with the chief malecontents, and concert fhe plan of operations. And in the meantime Kosciusko repaired to the frontiers, and anxiously waited the result of this mission. It was de termined to make an attempt to rescue the country from the slavery of Russian domination; but suspicions of the design having been ex cited, it was thought advisable that no movements should be made at that time. Kosciusko retired to Italy for greater safety, where he was soon joined by Zajonzek, who had been banished from the Polish ter ritories as a promoter of sedition. He informed Kosciusko that his countrymen were ripe for a revolt, and that they wished to have him appear without delay, as a more favorable opportunity would not oc cur. The ambitious designs of Russia were no longer coneealed : the ambassador of the empress ordered the constitution of 1791 an nulled, and the military force of Poland reduced to sixteen thousand men; thus intending to deprive the nation of all power of resistance. The patriotic Mondalinski, placing himself at their head, the troops were invincible, and refused to lay down their arms. The spirit of re sistance was spread through the country, and the ardor of the nation roused to the highest pitch. The Russians, to enforce their mandates, sent a numerous army into the country, whose ruthless conduct drove the Poles to desperation. The peasantry were compelled to teed, lodge, and convey their enemies from place to place, without compen sation, and thus to become the instruments of enslaving their own country. This severe and cruel treatment exasperated the public fae'ing, and the spirit of revenge and resistance became inveterate and universal. At this time, the great patriot and hero, to whom all looked as a leader, appeared, and was immediately appointed generalissimo of the patriot army, and chief of the confederacy. He took the oath of fidelity to the nation, and of adhereuce to the act of insurrection, by which war was declared against the ruthless invaders of the rights and independence of Poland. Like Washington, he had conferred on him such ample powers, as, in the possession of any other man, would have been a source of jealousy, if not of real danger; but his country had the most unbounded confidence in K°sclusko, which was not misplaced. He issued a proclamation, containing an appeal to every rank and class of the people, to rally round the standard of their country and of freedom, and to break the chains which enslaved 392 KOSCIUSKO. them, or perish in the attempt. This appeal was not made in vain : he was soon surrounded by a large number of armed peasantry; and the nobility having proclaimed the constitution of 1791; departed to their respective estates, to briug their vassals into the field. The Russians were soon driven out of Cracow, which became the head quarters of the patriot army. A Russian force of six thousand men marching toward Cracow, under general Wononzow, to attack the pa triots, was engaged by their brave leader, and defeated with the loss of one thousand men, and eleven pieces of cannon, and their general made prisoner. This splendid success became the signal for general hostilities, and had the most favorable influence. The Russian gene ral, Igelstrom, attempted to make himself master of the arsenal at Warsaw, but was resolutely repelled by the inhabitants, who, after a bloody contest of three days, drove the Russians from the city, with the loss of more than fifteen hundred men. The enemy retired to the camp of the Prussian general, Wolki. In other towns the inhabitants displayed similar bravery and reso lution, and in many, their exertions were successful. These succes ses served to inspire confidence, and to animate the most desponding ; the whole country was soon in arms, and sixty -thousand troops were in the field, exclusive of the peasantry, who were armed with pikes. These movements filled with astonishment the courts of Petersburgh and Berlin, who had flattered themselves that Poland was so far hum bled, and the spirit of the nation so broken, that it had no longer the power to make any resistance. Being exasperated at this unexpect ed resistance, Catharine and Frederick made great exertions to over come the insurgents, as they called them, and to defend the country they had fofcihjy annexed to their own dominions. These two pow ers marched one hundred and ten thousand men into Poland, all re gular and well disciplined troops, which gave them a decided superi ority. Kosciusko, however, made a skilful retreat upon Warsaw, where he was besieged by a large Prussian army. He defended the place for ten weeks, when, after sustaining a loss of twenty thousand men, the Prussian commander was obliged to raise the siege and re tire to his own territories. During this siege, the Russians had over run Lithuania and Volhynia ; and Kosciusko being at liberty, marched to oppose them. The eyes of Europe and America were fixed on him, as this was justly viewed as the last struggle of an oppressed but brave people ; all who loved liberty, or regarded justice, felt an ardent desire for their success; and from the noble spirit which per vaded the nation, and from the victories which had been achieved, KOSCIUSKO. 393 great hopes were entertained. These, however, were too soon found to be fallacious; fortune did not favor the patriot chief, and Poland was destined to fall, and to be erased from the map of nations. Kos ciusko and his brave companions in arms, fighting for their liberty, the independence of their country, the safety of their wives and children, displayed feats of bravery and determined perseverance worthy of the sacred cause in which they were engaged, with the disciplined but ferocious barbarians of the north. The battle of Macktjowice, the most bloody and most fatal to the Poles, lasted an entire day, the Russians were twice repulsed, and prodigies of valor rendered the fortune of the day doubtful, when Kosciusko fell senseless, pierced with wounds. He had made his at tendants swear not to abandon him living to the power of the Rus sians, and it is asserted that some Polish horsemen, not being able to rescue his body, struck him with their sabres on the head and left him for dead on the field of battle. The Cosaques were already pre pared to strip his body, when he was recognized by some officers. As soon as the name of Kosciusko was pronounced, even the Co saques themselves, testified the respect due to courage and misfortune. All the aid of art was lavished on him and he was treated with the greatest regard. But an order soon arrived to have him trans ported to Petersburgh, where Catharine, who was sometimes gene rous, but then too much irritated to be so, had him plunged into a dungeon. He would, without doubt, have terminated his career in prison, or augmented the number of wretched Poles who already lan guished in the deserts of Siberia, if the death of the empress had not come to change his destiny. One of the first acts of Paul I., Was to render homage to the virtues of Kosciusko. He not only immedi ately set him at liberty, but granted him a pension, which the noble Pole would not touch, and the brevet of which he sent back ai soon as he reached a soil beyond the fear of Russian influence. The last vial of wrath was poured out on Poland, and her fate was irrevocably sealed: — "Oh! bloodiest picture in the book of time! Sarrhatia fell unwept, without a crime, Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, or mercy in her wo; Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, iCIos'd her bright eye and curb'd her high career; — (Hope for a season bade the world farewell; And freedom shriek'd as Kosciusko fell." 394 KOSCIUSKO. ' The whole country was now in the possession of the Russians and Prussians, except Warsaw, where the troops of the invaders were marching to besiege it. The brave Poles, "few, but undismayed," consisting of not more than ten thousand men, were determined to make a desperate resistance, and to sell their lives as dear as possible As soon as the Russian army reached the suburb of Prague, they erected during the night several batteries, and a furious assault was then commenced. The two first divisions, after suffering severely from a vigorous fire of the inhabitants for more than eight hours, at length overcoming all obstacles, rushed into the place, pursued the routed foe through the streets, slaughtered about two thousand of them, and drove one thousand into the Vistula. The entrenchments were every where forced, and the streets filled with dead; a regiment of Jews having made an obstinate defence, were nearly all killed; the fugitives being pursued to the river, which stopped their flight, several thousand were massacred. Not satisfied with the slaughter of the battle, about ten hours afterward, the ruthless and infamous Suwarrow, the Kengis-Khan of modern times, ordered the city set on fire, and delivered the inhabitants up to plunder and massacre. No age, sex, or condition was spared, but all were alike exposed to the brutal violence of a ferocious soldiery, and were involved in one com mon ruin. More than fifteen thousand persons were killed or drowned, and about the same number were made prisoners ; a majority of whom were soon after released. Humanity weeps over this horrid scene, and Christianity blushes that such savage monsters should assume the name. When his numerous wounds were healed, Kosciusko repaired to America, where he was received as a citizen should be, who had been lavish of his blood in two worlds for the sacred cause of liberty. In 1798 he returned to France, where the same honors awaited him; at Paris every faction united in celebrating his arrival, and his country men of the army of Italy having found, at the taking of Loretto, the sabre of an ancient defender of Poland and Germany, John Sobiesky, who had vanquished the Turks under the walls of Vienna, judged Kosciusko alone worthy of possessing the weapon, and sent it to him. Kosciusko preferred the sojourn of France to any other, and remained there a long time, without accepting, however, any employment. The Polish hero, in a humble retreat in the country, occupied his leisure hours in rustic labor, and like the great Conde at Chantilla, amused himself with the culture of flowers. But he did not cease to be attentive to the desire of his country, and to give useful lessons to V KOSCIUSKP. OifO his fellow citizens. In 1814, when France was invaded by foreign troops, Kosciusko happened to be at a country house, in the environs of Fontainbleau. The commune he inhabited was divested by plun dering mercenaries; he threw himself among them, protected the citizens, and indignantly addressed the officers of a Polish regiment he met, and whose soldiers were not the least eager in the pillage. "When T commanded brave soldiers," exclaimed he, "they did not plunder; and [ would have severely punished the subalterns who would have dared to commit the actions I now witness, and still more severely the officers who would authorise them by their blameable in difference." "And who are you that speak with so much boldness?" was the question on every side. "I ara Kosciusko!" At this name, the soldiers threw down their arms, supplicated him to pardon the fault they had just been guilty of, prostrating themselves at his feet, and accordiag to the custom pf the nation, covered their heads with dust. Kosciusko, unable to support the dismal spectacle that the country he loved next to his own presented at this epoch, quitted France, and, after travelling for some time in Italy, at last retired to Soleure in Switzerland. It is from thence we must date the last re markable act of his life. In 1817, in the presence of the magistrates, and registered by pub lic notary,.he abolished slavery on his estate at Siechowicze, in Po land, declaring free and exempt from all charges and personal servi ces the ancient serfs of his lands. A deplorable accident a short time after, put an end to his glorious career. His horse fell under him, and a grievous wound, the consequence of this fall, occasioned his death a few days afterwards. The old and new world were afflicted by the news. His body was at first deposited in the church at So leure; but his grateful country soon claimed the remains of her greatest son. The Polish ladies, with unanimous accord, put on deep mourning, and wore it as if for a father. His ashes now repose in the metropolitan church of Cracow, between those .of Sobiesky and Poniatowski. A colossal monument will be elevated to him, and the brave of every country have desired to participate in the expense. But his memory will last still longer than the monuments elevated by the hands of men ; and his glory without a stain, which even misfor tune could not sully, will be perpetuated from age to age. The name of .Kosciusko will be pronounced with veneration as long as there exist beings who know virtue and cherish liberty. Kosciusko was a patriot and philanthropist.- When last in this country, his humanity prompted him to do something toelevate tlie« 396 PULASKI. degraded condition of the free black .population. For this purpose, he intrusted to general Washington and his heirs, fourteen thousand dollars, the interest of which was to he appropriated to the establish ment of a school for free blacks. In order, as he expressed it, ''to make them better fathers and better mothers, better sons and better daughters." This benevolent purpose has never been carried into ef fect. Owing to the cupidity of his heirs in Europe, the will was bro ken and the money reverted to .them. He died in France, at an advanced age; and since, his remains have been removed from a foreign grave, and deposited in the ceme tery of the kings of Poland, at Cracow, where they repose with those of the great Sobiesky. A monument of Carpathian marble has re cently been erected to the memory of Kosciusko, on the summit of Mount St. Bronislaway, in the neighborhood of Cracow. The empe ror Alexander, has since caused the remains of Stanislaus Poniatow ski to be removed from Petersburgh, where he died in 1798, to the same cemetery. COUNT PULASKI. Next to Kosciusko may be ranked Count Pulaski, another distin guished patriot of Poland, whom the fame of our revolutionary strug gle attracted to our shores as a soldier of liberty, to assist in fighting the battles of freedom. He had signalized his patriotism and valor in the disastrous war in which his country was engaged in 1772, which terminated in the first dismemberment of Poland. This un happy war originated from internal dissension, occasioned by an un just and impolitic decree respecting the privileges of the protestants in Poland, called the dissidents. Having petitioned and remonstra ted in vainy the dissidents, being encouraged by Russia, Prussia and Austria, were resolved to appeal to the sword for the defence of their rights. A civil war was thus commenced, which afforded an occasion for the ambitious and rapacious neighbors of Poland to interfere, and as the pretended allies of one of the contending parties, invade the country. This unjusj invasion aroused the spirit of the nation,; and active preparations were made to defend the country. The anti-Rus sian party, consisting principally of the catholics, were called the confederates ; and the other p'arty, comprising the adherents of Rus- PULASKI. 397 sia, acted in concert with the troops of the allies. The oiiginal cause of the contest was changed ; and it became really a struggle between the Russian and the anti-Russian parties, tlie former being supported by troops of the allies, and the latter feebly assisted by Saxony and France. Some time previous to the breaking out of this war, Stanis laus Poniatowski, a Polish nobleman of high rcnk and distinction, had been elected king of Poland by the influence of Russia. The confede rates, or the anti-Russian party, were jealous of him, considered him as being subservient to the court of Petersburgh, and believed that he was secretly in favor of the malecontents, who had invited foreign armies into the country, and were acting with them in carrying on hostilities. From these views, it became a great object w ith the confederates to de pose Stanislaus and crush the Russian faction, and rescue the country from the influence of that dangerous neighbor. Among the ardent partizans and leaders of the confederates, was count Pulaski. By him and other distinguished Poles, belonging to the anti-Russian association, it was believed that Poland could never be safe nor tranquil until it was rescued from the paralyzing influence of Rus sia. And regarding the king (although, as subsequent events proved rather unjustly) as subservient to that power, Pulaski- conceived and planned the bold enterprise of seizing the king, and conveyed him to the camp of the confederates. Matters having been arranged for the execution of this daring achievement, Kosinski and other members of the anti-Russian association, who were intrusted with its execution, sur prised and seized the king at Warsaw, although' surrounded by a nu merous body of guards, and conveyed bim into a neighboring forest But his expostulations and entreaties had such an effect on Kosinski that he released him, and saved him from further violence, he having been wounded by the assailants. The king was so exasperated that he declared Pulaski an outiaw. But the confederates receiving little or no assistance from France or Saxony, and the combined powers, bent on the conquest of the country, filling it with their troops, the contest resulted as might have been ex pected from thennequal means of the belligerent parties. The brave Poles were almost every where defeated, and the numerous armies of the combined powers overcame all resistance, and made themselves masters of the country. Their unprincipled designs were no longer disguised; butthey openly avowed their intention of seizing on a con siderable portion of the conquered country, and dividing the spoil among themselves. A treaty to this effect having been signed on the 2d of February, 1772, thev immediately ordered the Poles to convoke 5* PULASKI. a diet, and sanction this violent dismemberment, under a threat of sub jecting the country to military, execution, and treating it as a conquered state. By these violent measures, a majority of the diet was constrain ed to sanction such injustice and rapacity. Many, however, of the noble-minded Poles, rather than to be the un willing instruments of bringing their country to ruin, preferred exile and poverty; and to avoid witnessing the degradation of their native land, sought an asylum abroad. Among this number were -count Pulas ki and the illustrious Kosciusko. War breaking out-two years after between the American colonies and the parent country, this struggle of an infant people with their powerful oppressors excited the sympathies of the friends of liberty throughout Europe, and invited many patriots to our shores, who volunteered tbeir services in the glorious cause. Pulaski and Kosciusko were among the number: they arrived, it is believed, early in the year 1777. . Pulaski, who had been an experienced cavalry officer at home, had a command given him in the light-horse. He was first engaged in the battle of the Brandywine, in which the young marquis de Lafayette and many other foreigners were employed Count Pulaski, who commanded a party of horse,- sustained his high reputation for courage j his activity and exer tions were conspicuous throughout the engagement, and he was particu larly noticed by the commander-in-chief as having distinguished him self; and congress were so much gratified with his conduct and pro mise of usefulness in that branch of the service in which he was em ployed, that they, a few days afterward, appointed him a brigadier-gen eral and commander of the horse. He continued with the army in Pennsylvania during the remainder of the campaign in 1777. Early the next year, when baron Steuben was appointed inspector-general, ahd great exertions were made by Washington to improve the discipline and effect! a radical reform in the army, count Pulaski was empowered to raise an independent legion, which he afterward accomplished, and organized and disciplined his men in an excellent manner. In the fall of this year he was unfortunately surprised by a party of the enemy, and sustained considerable loss. Captain Furguson having returned to Egg-Harbour from a predatory incursion, there obtained information of some deserters from Pulaski's legion of the situation of that corps, which induced him to attempt to surprise and attack it. Accordingly Furguson, with about two hundred and fifty men, embarked in barges in the night, and landed near where a part of Pulaski's legion was quai1- tered, who, being asleep, and wholly, unprepared and unsuspicious of danger, were fallen upon, and about fifty of them massacred, including PULASKI. 399 several pfficers of distinction. Pulaski, having rallied his men as soon as he could, made an attempt to cut off this party which immediately retreated, but without success. In January, 1779, general Lincoln having been appointed to the com- mar.d^of the southern department, count Pulaski's light-horse were or dered to the south. After the shameful flight of general Ashe, the Bri tish under general Prevost obtained possession of the whole state of Georgia. The appointment about this time of John Rutledge, govern or of South Carolina, clothed with -ample powers, produced a favorable effect, and soon changed the gloomy aspect of affairs. Lincoln, finding himself at the head pf five thousand men, again resolved to act on the. offensive. He once more crossed the Savannah river, and took such a position as would enable him to intercept the supplies of the enemy from ¦the back parts of Georgia; leaving general Moultrie, with one thousand men, at the Black Swamp. Count Pulaski's legion of light-horse formed a part of the force under Lincoln. The American general had no sooner made this movement than the British commander determined to penetrate into. South Carolina. Having collected a force of three thousand men, he crossed the river in several places, and traversing swamps that had been deemed impassable, appeared so unexpectedly, that the militia under general Moultrie made .very little resistance, and retreated towards Charleston. The British general, who at first probably intended his movement only as a feint to draw Lincoln back from his expedition, emboldened by this success, resolved to push on to the capital of South Carolina. He accordingly marched in pursuit of the retreating militia, and co ming up with colonel Laurens, who had been left with a party to defend a bridge, after a sharp conflict for some time, in which Laurens was wounded, compelled the Americans to retire, and continued his march. General Lincoln, judging that the movement of Prevost was only a feint to draw him back,- despatched colonel Harrison, with three hundred continentals, to re-inforce Moultrie, and continued his march towards the capital of Georgia; hut three days after, being convinced that the British general meditated a serious attack upon Charleston, Lincoln turned about and- retraced his steps. Count Pulaski's legipn pf light- troops were immediately ordered on to join general Moultrie, who moved with; such rapidity that they came up with him before he reached Charleston, and in conjunction with parties of militia, made repeated stands on the retreat, and skirmished with the advance guard of the enemy, which seemed to check their march. General Moultrie and colonel Harris reached Charleston on the 9th of May; and governor 400 PULASKI. Rutledge, with a body of militia which had been stationed at Orange- burgh as a reserve, on the 10th; Pulaski arrived with his legion on the 11th; and on the same, day near one thousand of the enemy came up, crossed the ferry of Ashley-river, and advanced towards the town. Pulaski immediately conceived a. plan to draw the enemy ia|o an ambuscade; as soon as they approached, he marched at the head of a single company of infantry, and posted them behind a breastwork which had previously been thrown up in a valley, with orders to remain concealed; he then returned, and placing himself at the head of asmall party of horse, sallied out and advanced a mile beyond the concealed infantry, with a view to dr£w the enemy's cavalry, into action, intend- ijg, after a slight skirmish, to retreat, and thus draw the enemy's caval ry within the reach of the concealed infantry. But the object was de feated by the ardor of the infantry; disregarding their orders, they- rushed out from behind the breastwork to join in the attack, in conse quence of which, being inferior in numbers to the British, Pulaski was obliged to retreat. The enemy pressed hard upon them; but they were met and resisted in the most intrepid manner by' Pulaski, whose exam ple animated his men to deeds of heroism worthy of their brave leader. After this, several skirmishes during the day and: succeeding night oc curred between the -cavalry of the two hostile parties, in all of which Pulaski's legion, led on by their intrepid chief, displayed a coolness and braVery which has seldom been surpassed, and which reflected great honor on their gallant commander, whose exertions and example stimu lated his brave men to noble deeds. Perhaps a braver man that Pulas ki never drew a ^sword. During these various encounters he was re peatedly engaged in single combat with indiv iduals of the enemy, and sometimes with fearful odds. In the meantime the troops within the town, and the inhabitants of all ages and both sexes, were actively em ployed in strengthening their defences. • On the next day, the 12th, the town was summoned to surrender, and although the conditions offered were considered favorable, they were not accepted, and the negotiation was protracted through the day, by which means further time was obtained for improving the means of de fending the city. On the 13th, a most extraordinary proposition was Submitted to the British commander, which was, that- the whole state would remain neutral during the war, and its ultimate destiny to.de* pend on the peace. If any thing could exceed the pusillanimity and folly of this proposition, it was the conduct of general Prevost in refu sing to accept it, and immediately breaking up his camp and retreating without farther negotiation, or making any attempt upon the town. PULASKI. 401 General Lincoln pursued the enemy to Stony-Ferry, where, on the 20th of June, he attacked a part of Prevost's force under colonel Mait land, and sustained a sharp conflict for an horn* and a half with great advantage, when the enemy receivinga re-inforcement, the Americans were compelled to retire,' aic^fceing hard presed with fresh troops, con- siderab^geonfusion^hsued,fl[feich juncture Pulaski's horse charged the enemy with such gallantnfnmd spirit as checked their advance and enabled Mason's Viiginiajjrigade to move up and cover the retreat. In the unfortunate, siege of Savannah, count Pulaski was engaged wwh his legion, an? displayed his accustomed activity and valor, which, however, proved fajji^aiM terminated his military and earthly career. The? unexpected appearance of the French fleet on the American coast i alarmed the British forces in Georgia. On the 13th of September, 1779, '"the count d'Ektaing landed three thousand men at Beaulieu, which, on the 15th, were joined by count Pulaski with his legion; but the rest of die troops under general Lincoln, from the difficulties of the route, did not arrive until the 16th, when the allied armies united in front of the town of Savannah. Previously to this, count d'Estaing had appeared with his fleet before the town, and summoned the garrison to surrender. General Prevost artfully replied by requesting a truce for four-and- twenty hours to adjust the terms of capitulation; his only object, how ever, being to obtain time to strengthen his works and means pf de fence. This request unfortunately was granted, and the time was em ployed by the besieged in the most active exertions ; and within the time general Erevost was re-infbrced by the arrival of his outposts, which increased his force one-third. At the close of the truce, Prevost in formed the count that he should defend himself to the last extremity. On the 23d, the allied armies broke ground for the siege, and proceeded in their work with great activity. In ten days, more than fifty- pieces of battering cannon and fourteen mortars were mounted, which were op posed by nearly one hundred of different sizes, and on the 4th of Octo ber a tremendous fire was commenced upon the town. After the bat teries had player! on the town for several days without much effect, count d'Estaing, being anxious about the safety of his fleet if the siege should be prolonged, proposed to change the plan of operations, and make an attempt upon the town by storm. This Lincoln was obliged to agree to, as otherwise the count threatened to abandon the siege alto gether. Unfortunately, information of the intended assault was con veyed to Prevost by an officer who deserted from the Charleston volun teers, which enabled him to prepare for it. Savannah is protected from an attack by land, by the river on one side, and a deep moross on the 402 PULASKI. other, extending parallel with the river in the rear of the town. The assault was made on the morning of the 9th, before day-light, by two columns, on the enemy's right; one commanded by count d'Estaing and general Lincoln in concert, and the other by count Dillon. The former moved along the margin of the niaA& covered by the'dajAss, to within a short distance of the enernjHpae, when their Jm gffied batteries being unmasked, a destfucffiffirire was opened uponthem, which made great havoc. Undismayed by .tiiis slaughter, the coluran continued to advance, and d'Estaing and Lincehi fteed the abattis, and placed their standards on the parapet. At thiapLeTnad the other col-:j umn come up, the assault would have succedffiaj|fcd the possession" of J the enemy's works been certain; but count DiHni unfortunately lost his way in the darkness, and failed in affording the expected co-operation. At this crisis, colonel Maitland made a vigorous attack on the brave J soldiers who had planted their standards on the parapet, who were forced into the ditch, the flags torn down, and the whole column compelled to retire through the abattis. - This disastrous result of the attack would probably^hajge been avoided, but for the fatal termination of the gallant career of (he brave Pulaski. At the moment colonel Maitland, with his own corps united with the marines and grenadiers under lieutenant- colonel Grazier, pushed forward to attack the assailants, Pulaski, per ceiving the danger to which the allied column was placed, made a bold effort, at the head of two hundred horse, to force his way through the enemy's works and gain the rear of Maitland, which would have placed that brave and skilful officer in a critical situation, and, in all proba bility, have changed the fate of the day; but, whilst advancing at the head of his men, exposed to the most tremendous fire, the intreprid Pu laski received a mortal wound, and fell from his horse. The fall of their heroic leader stopped the progress of the squadron, and they imme diately retreated. He lived two days, and expired on the 11th of Oc tober, 1779. Thus fell, in a most bold -and dating achievement, the distinguished Polish patriot and hercyin the cause of American liberty: his memory is entitled to our veneration, as his life forms an item in the price of our independence. - Soon after, congress resolved that a mon ument should be erected to his memory; but Qusjiaper statue, and the heroic deeds of a bold and adventurous life, constitute the only monu ment that has been erected to his memory, or which serves to perpetuate his fame. DE KALB. 403 BARON DE KALB, Major-General in the American Army. Baron de Kalb was a native of Germany, but having long been em- plorad in the service of France, previous to the commencement of the ArfMKcan revolution, he possessed the character of a French officer, if noflipE" a French citizen, when he came to the United States. He ar rived here ih 1777f pand being an officer of great experience and un doubted courage, he received the commission of major-general from congress. Early in the year following he was selected'as one of the officers in the expediton which had been planned against Canada* and proceeded to Albany to engage in the enterprise, the command of which Was intrusted to the young marquis de Lafayette ; but the pre parations being wholly inadequate, the expedition was abandoned. Generals Conway and Stark were also to have joined in the enterprise. In the summer of 1780, after the surrender of Charleston, and the submission of the whole of South Carolina to the royal authority, and all resistance in that quarter had nearly ceased, the baron de Kalb was ordered by congress to the south, to revive a spirit of resistance, and arrest, if possible, the prevailing fortunes of the victorious enemy. The situation of the southern states, at this time, was truly alarm ing; Georgia and South Carolina were conquered, and North Caro lina was quiet, and apparently overawed; and congress felt the neces sity of directing their attention, in a particular manner, to that quar ter, and of making every possible effort to retrieve their fallen for tunes in that department ofthe war. The ordering of baron de Kalb, at that time, to that station, is a strong evidence of the confidence con gress reposed in his talents. General Gates, whose reputation at this time was, perhaps, second to that of no officer except the commander- in-chief, was'appointed to the chief command in the southern depart ment,- and great hopes were indulged from the exertions of two such distinguished generals. Baron de Kalb arrived at Hillsborough, in North Carolina, at the head of two thousand continentals, consisting of the Maryland and Delaware lines. His approach revived the de spondent hopes, and animated the drooping spirits of the inhabitants; the militia flocked to his standard from North Carolina and Virginia, and were soon organized and prepared to join him on his march. He had not proceeded far before he was overtaken by general Gates, who 404 DK KALB. assumed the chief command; and this increased the joy .which had already been excited, and produced sanguine hopes of a. successful campaign. The aspect of affairs was at once changed; the gloom of despondency was succeeded by the brightening rays of high expecta tions, which counteracted the effects of the proclamations of Clinton and Cornwallis, and brought many to the American standaM>wnb, a sh6rt time before, had exchanged their paroles for the oath of alle giance . >» General Grates, relying on these favorable.circumstances, anfhot sufficiently cautious, seemed only desirous of meeting the erHjy. He changed the route which the prudence of thefjparon de KalbTiad- selected, leading through a district which afforded abundant supplies for the troops, and pursued a nearer route, but which led through a barren country scarcely settled, and where no provisions could be ob tained but green corn and unripe fruits. This occasioned a fatal sick ness, of which many died, and more became unfit for duty; and the J- horses also suffered for the want of forage, which rendered them of little use. General Gates moved to I-ynch's creek, which alone sep arated him from lord Rawdon, when the latter immediately retreated to Camden, and despatched intelligence of the approach of the Ame rican army to Cornwallis. General Gates moved on to Rudgley's Mills, where he halted and encamped. Here being informed by gene ral Sumpter that a party of the enemy were on their way with stores for the army at Camden, and that with a detachment of artillery he could intercept them, Gates ordered colonel Woolford, with four hun dred men and two field-pieces, to his aid. General Gates was joined here by general Stevens, with several hundred Virginia militia; and although he had weakened his force by detaching colonel Woolford, he still prepared to march to Camden, and seemed to suppose that lord Rawdon would retreat at his approach, as he had done at Lynch's creek; and he was entirely ignorant of lord Cornwallis's arrival. The very night that Gates moved from Rudgley's Mills, CornwaHis marched from Camden, with the intention of surprising him in his positioi.. The advanced guards of the two armies met ou the morn ing of the 16th, some hours before dawn of light. Armond's squad ron of cavalry, which was in advance, was immediately thrown back in confusion on the Maryland regiment, which occasioned some disor der; but tho light-infantry, which flanked the army, opposed the ad vance of the enemy's van, and this first apprised the two generals of the proximity pf their armies. Neither being willing to risk an action in the dark, both immediately halted and prepared for action. Tire DE KALB. 405 situation., which was the result of accident and not of choice on either side, was precisely what the enemy desired, as the deep, swamps on both sides, preven tedthe Americans from presenting a more ex tended line than the enemy, which, from their superior numbers, they might have done, would the ground have admitted of it. There were about two thousand of the British, and about three thousand seven hundred Americans, of which, however, one thousand only were con tinentals. The enemy were drawn up in one line, extending across the whole ground, and flanked by the swamps on both sides. Colo nel Webster was stationed on the right, and lord Rawdon on the left: in front of the line, the artillery, with four field pieces, were posted ; the reserve were posted at two stations in the rear, near the centre of each wing$ at each of which was one six pounder; and the cavalry occupied the road in the rear, which, with the reserve, formed the se cond line. General Gales changed the first disposition of his troops : the second Maryland brigade and the Delaware regiment were posted on the right, under general Gist; the centre was occupied by general Caswell, with the North Carolina militia; and the Virginia militia, commanded by general Stevens, were placed on the left, being op posed to the troops of the enemy. The artillery was divided among the several brigades; and the first Maryland brigade, u;:der general Smallwood, formed the reserve. The line of battle was intrusted to the baron de Kalb, who was posted on the right, great reliance being placed on his experience and known intrepidity; he was to watch the movements of the whole line, and direct his exertions where cir cumstances might indicate. General Gates was stationed in the road, between the reserve and the front line. The action was commenced by a vigorous attack on the American left, by the enemy's right, which were their best troops; this was immediately followed by the discharge of artillery from our centre, and the action was soon commenced along the whole line. The Vir ginia militia on our left, unable to stand the vigorous assault of the British veterans, after one fire, threw down their arms and fled; and their pernicious example was immediately followed by the North Car olina brigade in our centre; and all the exertions of their officers, and of general Gates in person, to rally them, were ineffectual : filled with consternation, they continued their cowardly flight until they reached a place of safety. The centre of the American line being thus broken, the right, consisting of the Maryland brigade and Dela- aware regiment, led by the gallant de Kalb, had to sustain the whole force of the action. De Kalb and Gist were pushing on with decided 52 406 DE KALB. advantage at the time the militia gave way, which stopped their ad vance, and brought the whole fire of the enemy upon them: anima ted by their brave leader, they resolutely sustained this unequal con test for a considerable time, and until all the other troops had retreat ed : several times were the enemy's van driven in with loss. Gene ral Smallwood, with the first Maryland brigade, which had formed the reserve, advanced and took the place of the fugitives on the left, which exposed him to the whole corps of Webster's veterans, on the ene my's right. The shock was too heavy for militia; three times was general Smallwood compelled to give way, and with determined va lor three times did he return to the charge; and would probably have maintained his ground, had not the remaining regiment of North Car olina militia, which, for some time, seemed resolved to retrieve the disgrace of their countrymen, finally gave way, which compelled Smallwood's regiment to retire in some disorder from so unequal and destructive a contest. This left the right the second time exposed to the whole force of the enemy. Few, but undismayed, the brave conti nentals, animated by the heroic conduct of their chief, made a deter mined effort to sustain the honor of the field alone. From the vast superiority of the enemy, their fire was heavy and destructive, and could not be returned with the same effect; de Kalb," therefore, placed his last hopes on the bayonet, and making a desperate charge, drove the enemy before him with considerable advantage. But at this time Cornwallis, perceiving that the American cavalry had left the field, ordered colonel Tarleton to charge with his cavalry; and having concentrated his whole force, the charge was made with the usual impetuosity of that daring officer. This was decisive of the desperate conflict, and fatal to the gallant officer who is the subject of this brief notice. Fatigued from their long and arduous efforts, the heroic continentals, who had sustained almost the whole burden of the day, were unable to withstand the charge; and their gallant lead er, who was himself a host, having fallen, they were compelled to leave a field which they had so honorably defended, and seek safety by flight. The victory, and the dispersion of the Americans, were complete; and the fugitives were pursued for more than twenty miles. The troops under de Kalb, on the right, suffered, as might be supposed, most severely; the Delaware regiment was nearly destroyed, two com panies only being left, and more than one third of the continentals were killed and wounded. Perhaps no officer ever exerted himself more, in a single action, than did the baron de Kalb on this occasion ; he did all that man could DE KALB. 407 do to retrieve the fortune of the day, exposing himself to constant and imminent danger. He received eleven wounds in the course of the action, but kept his post and continued his exertions until the last, which proved mortal. As he fell, his aid, lieutenant-colonel de Buys- son, caught him in his arms to save him from the uplifted bayonets of the enemy, which he warded off by receiving them in his own body. In his last moments the baron dictated a letter to general Smallwood, who succeeded to his command, expressing a warm affection for the Americans, and the cause in which they were engaged, and his admi ration of the conduct of the troops under his immediate command, whose bravery ancl firmness, in so unequal a contest, he said, had called forth the commendation even of the enemy ; and concluded by expressing the satisfaction he felt in having fallen in the defence of the independence and liberties of America, a cause so dear to the lovers of liberty, and the friends of humanity, in Europe as well as America. He survived only a few days. An ornamental tree was planted at the head of his grave, near Camden; and congress, duly sensible of his merits, passed a resolution directing a monument to be erected to his memory, with very honorable inscriptions, at Annapo lis, in Maryland ; but the resolution, it is believed, has never been car ried into effect, and the gratitude and plighted faith of the nation both remain unredeemed. He was in the forty-eighth year of his age; most of his life had been spent in military employments, and the last three years in America, with distinguished reputation. PART III. BIOGRAPHY OF REVOLUTIONARY NAVAL OFFICERS. JOHN PAUL JONES, Commodore in the American Navy. "The following interesting narrative is translated from a French manuscript, written by himself. While we condemn tho author for his egotism, we must make great allowances on that account for the splendid success that attended his enterprises, and estimate his vanity by the reasons he had to be vain. Few even, perhaps, circumstanced as Paul Jones was, would have praised themselves less than he has done in this sketch; which possesses the singular merit of being sub stantially correct in all its parts, so far as we arc iuformed of the matter."* At the commencement of the American war (during the year 1775) 1 was employed to fit out the little squadron, which the congress had placed under commodore Hopkins, who was appointed to the com mand of all the armed vessels appertaining to America; and I hoist ed, with my own hands, the American flag on board the Alfred, which was then displayed for the first time. I at the same time acquainted Mr. Hewes, a member of congress and my particular friend, with a project for seizing on the island of lit. Helena, by means of our little squadron, which would have infal- liby rendered us masters of part of the homeward-bound East India fleet ; aud as the congress, at that time, proposed to appropriate two- Uiirds of the prizes lo itself, they would have thus been furnished i-NiIcs' Register. 410 JOHN PAUL JONES. with the means of carrying on the. war during several years; but an event of a more pressing nature prevented this scheme from being carried, into execution. The cruelties and vexations at that lime exercised by Dunmore, in Virginia, determined the congress to detach the squadron against him ; but Mr. Hopkins displayed neither zeal nor talents upon this occasion, and lost so much time that his squadron was frozen in the Delaware. After a delay of two months, the squadron was at length disen gaged, and set sail for New-Providence, the principal of the Bahama islands. There we found a large quantity of artillery, mortars, and other implements of warfare, of which we stood greatly in want in America ; and I had the good fortune to render myself extremely use ful to the commodore, who was but little acquainted with military operations. It was to me he was indebted for the plan adopted by him when the squadron came in sight of New-Providence, and I also undertook to moor the squadron in a proper birth to execute our en terprise. On our return from New-Providence we took two armed vessels, one of which was loaded with bombs, and fell in near Rhode-Island, with an English man of war, called the Glasgow, carrying twenty-four guns; but, notwithstanding our superiority, both in point of force and sailing, the commander-in-chief suffered' her to escape, after having lost many men killed and wounded, both on board the Alfred and the Cabot. The squadron now entered the port of New-London, in Connecti cut. A council of war having dismissed the captain of the Provi dence, one of the ships of the squadron, the commodore gave me"or- ders in writing to take the command of her, and to escort some troops that Were proceeding from Rhode Island to New- York, with a view of serving under general Washington. After this, I received instruc tions to escort a convoy of artillery from Rhode Island to New- York, for the defence of which it was destined. On this occasion, I had two different engagements with the Cerberus frigate; the first for the protection of the vessels under my command, and the second for the preservation of a vessel from St. Domingo, laden with n;ival stores for the congress. In the course pf my service between Boston ancl New- York, I had also many actions with ships of war under the com mand of lord Howe; but on these as on former occasions, I was ena bled to preserve my convoy, and I at length arrived safe in the Dela ware, August 1, 1776. On the 8th of the same month the president of the congress pic- JOHN PAUL JPNES. 411 sented me in person, with the commission of captain in the marine of the United States; this was the first granted by congress since the declaration of independence, which took place on the 4th of July of that same year. Orders had been given for the construction of thirteen" frigates ; but, as none of them was yet ready, I proceeded to sea alone, on board the Providence, which was a vessel of but small force, as she carried no more than seventy men, and twelve small cannon. When in the neighborhood of Bermudas, we fell in with the Solebay and her con voy, from Charleston; she was a thirty-two gun frigate, and formed part of the squadron under admiral Parker. T was of course desi rous of avoiding an engagement with such superior force : but as my officers and men insisted that it was the Jamaica fleet, as it was ne cessary to command by means of persuasion at this epoch of the war, the result was a serious engagement during six hours, which, to wards the close, was carried on within pistol shot. A 'desperate ma noeuvre was the sole resource left me; I attempted this, it succeeded, and I was fortunate enough to disengage myself. A short time after this, I took several prizes, and then sailed to wards the coast of Nova Scotia, on purpose to destroy the whale and cod fisheries in that neighborhood . When near Sable Island, we fell in with the Milford frigate, carrying thirty-two guns, with which it was impossible to avoid an engagement. A cannonade accordingly took place, from ten o'clock in the morning until sunset; but the en gagement was neither so close nor so hot as that with the Solebay, and I at length escaped by passing through the flats, and entered a little harbor next day, where I destroyed the fishery and vessels. After this, I set sail for Isle Madame, where I made two descents, at the same time destroying the fisheries and burning all the vessels I could not carry away with me. Having accomplished this, I returned to Rhode Island, after an absence of six weeks and five days from the Delaware; during this interval I had taken sixteen prizes, without in cluding those destroyed. The commander-in-chief, who had remained all this time in har bor, now adopted a plan proposed by me, and which consisted, 1. In the destruction of the enemy's fisheries, at Isle Royale; and 2. Of restoring to liberty more than three hundred American pri soners detained there in the coal mines. Three vessels were des tined for this service, the Alfred, the Hampden, and the Providence; but the Hampden having received considerable damage in conse quence of running on a rock, could not accompany me. I, however, 412 JOHN PAUL JONES. embarked on board the Alfred, and taking the Providence by wav of consort, I set sail, and on the 2d of November, 1776, made prize of a vessel from Liverpool, and soon after, the Meil ish, a large armed ves sel, having two British navaf officers on board, and a captain belong ing to the land service, with a company of soldiers. Thi3 ship was carrying ten thousand complete sets of uniform to Canada, for the army posted there under the orders of generals Carleton and Bur goyne. The Providence having now left the Alfred during the night, with out the least pretext whatever, I remained alone, and that too during the stormy season, on the enemy's coast; but notwithstanding this, and that I was also greatly embarrassed with my prisoners, I resolved not to renounce my project. I accordingly effected a descent, de stroyed a transport of great value, and also burned the magazines and buildings destined for the whale and cod fishery. Having returned to Boston, December 10, 1776, the intelligence of the uniforms taken on board the Mellish, re-animated the courage of the army under general Washington, which at that period happened to be almost destitute of clothing. Let me add also, that this unex pected succor contributed not a little to the success of the affair at Trenton against the Hessians, which took place immediately after my arrival. The season, being now too far advanced for the execution of the scheme in the West Indies, myself and crew received orders to re move on board the Amphytrite, a French vessel, destined to sail from Portsmouth, New-Hampshire, to France, whence we were to pass into Holland, and take possession of the Indienne, a large frigate, con structing there for the congress. In the month of January, 1778, I repaired to Paris, to make the necessary arrangements with the American ministers, relative to the equipment of the Indienne; but as the English .ambassador at the Hague, in consequence of obtaining possession of the papers of an American agent, found that the Indienne was the property of con gress, I acquiesced in the opinion of the American ministers; and it was determined to cede the property to his most christian majesty, this being the most likely method of preserving the property. In the month of February, 1776, the parliament of England had authorized George HI. to treat all the Americans taken at sea, with arms in their hands, as traitors, pirates, and felons : this, more than any other circumstance, rendered me the declared enemy of Great Britain. JOHN PAUL JONES. 413 Indignant at the barbarous treatment experienced by the Americans, I determined to make a grand effort in their behalf, with a view of stop ping the barbarous proceedings of the English,in Europe, as well as on the western continent; in the latter of which they set fire to their housesj destroyed their property, and burned and destroyed whole towns. I ac cordingly determined, by way of retaliation, to effect a descent upon some part of England, with a view of destroying the shipping. It was also my intention to make some person of distinction prisoner, whom I resolved to detain as a hostage for the security of, and in order to ex change with the American prisoners in England; I accordingly sailed from Brest, and set sail for the coast of Scotland; It was my intention to take the Earl of Selkirk prisoner, and detain his lordship as a hostage, in conformity to the project already mentioned. It was with this view about noon of the same day I landed on that no bleman's estate, with two officers and a few men. In the course of my progress, I fell in with some of the inhabitants, who, taking me for an Englishman, observed, that lord Selkirk was then in London, but that her ladyship and several ladies were at the castle. On this, I determined to return; but such moderate conduct was not conformable to the wishes of my people, who were disposed to pillage, burn and destroy every thing in imitation of the conduct of the English towards the Americans. Although I was not disposed to copy such hor rid proceedings, more especially when a lady was in question; it was yet necessary to recur to such means as should satisfy their cupidity, and at the same time, provide for lady Selkirk's safety, lt immediately appeared to me, to be the most proper mode to give orders to the two officers to repair to the castle with the men, who were to remain on the outside under arms, while they themselves entered alone. They were then instructed to enter and demand the family plate, in a polite manner, accepting whatever was offered them, and then return without making any further inquiries, or attempting to search for more. I was punctually obeyed ; the plate was delivered; lady Selkirk her self observed to the officers, that she was exceedingly sensible of my moderation ; she even intimated a wish to repair to the shore, although a mile distance from her residence, in order to invite me to dinner; but the officers would not allow her ladyship to take so much trouble. I had no sooner arrived at Brest, than admiral the count D'Orvilliers transmitted an account of my expedition to the minister of the marine, in consequence of which it was intimated to Dr. Franklin, that his ma jesty wasdesirous that I should repair to Versailles, as he was resolved to employ me on a secret expedition, for which purpose he would give me 53 *" , JOHN PAUL JONES. the Indienne. with some other frigates, with troops, &c. for the purpose ef effecting a descent. But in a short time after this, hostilities took place between France and England in consequence of the action with La Belle Poule. This not a little embarrassed the minister of the marine, and the difficulty was not diminished by the intelligence brought by the prince, who as serted that the Dutch would not permit the Indienne to be equipped. 1 now received orders to escort a fleet of transports and merchant men from L'Orient, destined for different ports between that and Bor deaux ; and after that I was to chase away the English cruisers from the Bay of Biscay, and then to return for further orders. After executing this commission, on my representing how necessary it was to make a diversion in favor of the count D'Orvilliers, then crui sing in the channel, with sixty-six ships of the line, I received a carte blanche during six weeks, without any other restriction than that of re pairing to the Texel, by the first of October. By this time, I received intimation from England, that eight East Indiam'en were soon expected on the coast of Ireland, near to Limerick. This was an object of great attention; and as there were two privateers at Port L'Orient ready for sea, Le Monsieur, of forty guns, and Le Granville, of fourteen, the captains of which offered to place themselves under my orders, I ac cepted the proposition. But the French commissary who superintended the naval department, acted with great impropriety on this, as well as on many former occasions. The little squadron at length set sail from the road of Groays, on the 14th of August, 1779; but we had no sooner proceeded to the north of the mouth of the channel, than Le Monsieur and Le Granville abandoned me during the night, and Le Cerf scon after imitated their conduct. I was extremely anxious to cruise for a fortnight in the latitude of Lim erick; but the captain of the Alliance, after objecting to this, also left me during the night; and as I had now with me only the Pallas and the Vengeance, I was obliged to renounce my original intentions. I took tiro prizes on the coast of Ireland; and within sight of Scot land, came up and seized two privateers, of twenty-two guns each, which, with a brigantine, I sent to Bergen, in Norwaj', according to the orders I had received from Dr. Franklin: these prizes, however, were restored to the English by the' king of Denmark. When I entered the North sea, I captured several vessels, and learned by my prisoners, as well as by the newspapers, that the capital xjf Scot land and the port of Leith were left totally defenceless. I also under stood at the same time, that my information relative to the eight India- JOHN PAUL JONES. 415 men was correct; they having entered Limerick three days after I had been obliged to leave the neighborhood of that port. As there was only a twenty gun ship and two cutters in Leith Bxad, I deemed it practicable to lay those two places under contribution. I had indeed no other force to execute this project, than the Richard, the Pallas, and the Vengeance; but 1 well knew, that in order to perform a brilliant action, it is not always necessary to possess great means. I therefore held out the prospect of great booty to the captains under my command; and, as to myself, I was satisfied with the idea of- making a diversion in favor of the count D'Orvilliers, who was theu in the channel. I now distributed red clothes to my men, and put some of them on board the prizes, so as to give them the appearance of transports full of troops. All the necessary arrangements were also taken to carry the enterprise into execution; but, about a quarter of an hour before the descent was to have been made, a sudden tempest arose, and drove me out of the Forth, or Elinburgh Frith, and so violent was the storm that one of my prizes was lost. This did not, however, deter me, notwithstanding the smallness of my forces, from forming different enterprises of a similar nature; but I could not induce the captains of the Pallas and Vengeance to second my views; I was therefore obliged to content myself by spreading alarm on the coast, and destroying the shipping, Which I did as far as Hull. On the morning of the 23d September, while I was cruising in the latitude of Flamborough Head, which I had appointed as a place of ren dezvous for my little squadron, and where I hoped to be rejoined by the Alliance and Le Cerf,and also to fall in with the Baltic fleet; this con voy accordingly appeared at a time when I had been abandoned by several of my consorts, had lost two boats, with their crews, who had run away on the coast of Ireland, and when a third, with eighteen men on board, was iu chase of a' merchantman to the windward, leaving me with a scanty crew, and only a single lieutenant and some inferior offi cers on board. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon that the Baltic fleet ap peared in view; I then happened to have the wind of it, and was about two leagues distant from the coast of England. I learned from my prisoners, that the convoy was escorted by the Serapis, a new vessel, that could mount fifty-six guns, but then carried only forty-four, on two' decks, the lower battery earrying eighteen pounders, and the Countess of Scarborough, a new twenty-two gun ship. We were no sooner descried than the armed vessels stood out to 416 JOHN PAUL JONES. sea, while the trade took refuge under the cannon of Scarborough Castle. As there was but little wind, I could not come up with the enemy before night. The moon did not rise until eight, and at the close of day the Serapis and Countess of Scarborough tacked and. stood in for the fortress. I was lucky enough to discover this manoeuvre by means of my night glass, without which I should have remained in ignorance of it. On this I immediately altered my course six points, with a yjew of .cutting off the enemy; which was no sooner perceived by the Pallas, than it was supposed my Crew had mutinied, which induced her captain to haul his wind, and stand out to sea, while the Alliance lay to, tp windward, at a considerable distance ; and as the captain of the vessel had never paid any attention whatever to the signals of the Richard since her leaving France, 1 was obliged to run all risks and enter into action with the Richard only7to prevent the enemy's escape. I accordingly began the engagement at seven o'clock at night, with in pistol shot of the Serapis, and sustained the brunt of her fire, and also that of the Countess of Scarborough, which raked the Richard, by means of the broadsides she fired into her stern. It ought to be here remarked, that the Richard, properly speaking, was only a thirty-four gun frigate, carrying only twelve-pounders ; but six eighteen -pounders had been placed in the gun room, in cage of being obliged to recur to a cannonade in an enemy's harbor. The sea being very calm during the engagement, I hoped to be able to derive great advantage from this circumstance ; but instead of this, they burst at the commencement of the action, and the officers and men, posted at this service, and who were selected as the best of the whole crew, were either killed, wounded, or affrighted to such a degree, that none of them were of any service during the rest of the engagement. In this unfortunate extremity, having to contend with three times my own strength, the Richard being in imminent danger of going to the bottom, and her guns being no longer in a condition to return the ene my's fire, I had recourse to a dangerous expedient, to grapple with the Serapis, in order, on the one hand, to render her superiority useless, and on the other, to cover ourselves from the fire of her consort. This manoeuvre succeeded most admirably, and I fastened the Serapis, with my own hands to the Richard. On this, the captain of the Countess of Scarborough, who was a natural son of the duke of Northumber^ land, conducted himself like a man of sense, and from that moment ceased to fire upon us, well knowing that he must at the same time damage the Serapis. JOHN PAUL JONES. 417 That vessel being to windward at the moment wo had grappled, in stantly dropped her anchor, hoping by this to disengage herself from us; but this did not answer her expectations, and the engagement from that moment, consisted of the discharge of great guns, swivels, mus- quetry, and grenades. The English at first, testified a desire to board the Richard, but they no sooner saw the clanger than they desisted. The enemy, however, possessed the advantage of their two batteries, besides the guns on their forecastle and quarter-deck, while our can non was either burst or abandoned, except four pieces on tho forecas tle, which were also relinquished dining some minutes. Mr. Mease, the officer who commanded these guns, had been dangerously wounded on the head, and having, at that period, no greater object to occupy my attention, I myself took his post. A few sailors came to my assist ance of their own accord, and served the two guns next to the enemy with surprising courage and address. A short time after this, I re ceived sufficient assistance to be able to remove one of the forecastle guns from the opposite side; but we had not strength sufficient to re move the other, so that we could only bring three guns to bear upon the enemy during the remainder of the action. The moon, which as I have already observed, rose at eight, beheld the two vessels surrounded by flame, in consequence of the explosion of the cannon. It so happened at this period, that tho mainmast of the Serapis, which was painted yellow, appeared extremely district, so as to foim an excellent mark; on this, I pointed one of my guns at it, taking care to ram home the shot. In the mean time, the two other pieces were admirably served against the — — and swept its forecas tle, by means of an oblique fire. The tops also seconded us bravely, by means of musquetry and swivels, and also threw a multitude of grenades, so as greatly to annoy fhe enemy. By these means they were driven from their quarters, notwithstanding their superiority in point of men and artillery. The captain of the Serapis, after consulting with his officers, re solved to strike; but an unlucky accident, which occurred on board the Richard, prevented this: a bullet having destroyed one of our pumps, the carpenter was seized with a panic, and told the gunner, and another petty officer, that we were sinking. Some one observed at the same time, that both I and the lieutenant were killed: in conse quence of which the gunner, considering himself as commanding- offi cer, ran instantly to th<^ quarter-deck, in order to haul down the Ameri can colors, which he would have actually hauled down, had not the flag-staff been carried away at the time the Richard grappled with the Serapis. 418 JOHN PAUL JONES. The captain, on hearing the gunner express his wishes to surrender, in consequence of his supposing that we were sinking, instantly ad dressed himself to me and exclaimed, "Do you ask for quarter? — Do you ask for quarter?" I was so occupied at this period, in serving the three pieces of cannon on the forecastle, that I remained totally ignor ant of what had occurred on deck; I replied, however, "I do not dream of surrendering, but I am determined to make you strike !" The English commander, however, conceived some faint hopes, in consequence of what had been said, that the Richard was actually sinking; but when he perceived that her fire did not diminish, he im mediately ordered his men from the forecastle, where they were too much exposed, and stationed them below, where they kept up such a tremen^ dous discharge against the Richard, that it at once indicated vengeance and despair. It has already been observed, that when I commenced the action, the Pallas was at a great distance to windward, while the Alliance lay to in the same position. When the captain of the former perceived that the engagement took place, he spoke to his consort; but they lost a great deal of time, and it was not until now, that they came within gun shot of the Countess of Scarborough, and a kind of running fight took place between the latter and the Pallas. The Alliance followed them, and on passing us, fired a broadside, which, as we were closely engaged with the enemy, did no more harm to them than to us. The battle still continued with uncommon ardor between us and the enemy, whose or burned, and her mainmast cut away by degrees, by' our bullets; while1 the heavier metal of the Serapis drove in on one of the sides of my ship, and met with little or no resistance. In short, our helm was rendered useless, and the poop was only supported by an old and shattered piece of timber, which alone prevented it from giving way. At length, after a short engagement, the Countess of Scarborough surrendered to the Pallas; it was then that the captain of the latter asked the commander of the Alliance, "whether he would take charge of the prize, or sail and give succor to the commodore?" On this, the Alliance began to stand backwards and forwards under her topsails, until having got to the windward, she came down, and discharged a se cond broadside against the fore-part of the Serapis, and the hind-part of the Richard . On this, I and several other persons begged, for God's sake, that they would cease firing, and send a few men on board of us; but he disobeyed, and fired another broadside as he passed along; after which he kept at a most respectful distance, and took great care not to JOHN PAUL JONES. 419 expose himself during the remainder of the action, without receiving a single shot, or having a man wounded during the whole engagement. The idea that we were sinking had talten such possession of the ar morer's mind, that he actually opened the scuttles, and made all pri soners, to the number of a hundred, sally forth, in opposition to my re iterated orders. This event might have proved fatal, had I not taken advantage of their affright to station them at the pumps, where they displayed surprising zeal, appearing actually to forget their captivity; for there was nothing to prevent their going on board the Serapis; or, it was in their power' to put an end to the engagement in an instant, by either killing me, or throwing me into the sea. As our three quarter-deck guns continued to p]a;y without interrup tion on the enemy, raked her hinder parts, and damaged her mast in such a manner, that it was only supported from falling by the yards of our ship, while the tops poured in a continual discharge ; the fire of the English began to deaden in such a manner as to bereave them of all hopes of success. A circumstance occurred, however, that contributed not a little to the victory of the Richard ; this was the extraordinary intrepidity and pre sence of mind of a Scotch sailor, posted in the main top : this brave fellow, of his own accord, seized a lighted match, and a basket of hand grenades, with which he advanced along the main-yard, until he had arrived exactly above the enemy's deck. As the flames of their para pets and shrouds, added to the light of the moon, enabled him to distin guish objects, the moment he perceived two or three persons assembled together, he instantly discharged a hand grenade among them; he had even address enough to drop several through their scuttles, and one of them set fire to the cartridge of an eighteen pounder belonging to the lower deck, the discharge of which scorched several of the crew. On this, the captain of the Serapis came upon the quarter-deck, lowered his flag, and asked for quarter, at the very moment his main mast had fallen into the sea. He then came on board with his officers, and presented me with his sword. While this was transacting, eight or ten men belonging to the Richard seized on the Serapis' shallop, which had been at anchor" during the engagement, and made off. It was more than eleven o'clock when the battle ended ; it had con sequently lasted more than four hours. My ship had no more than 322 men, good, bad and indifferent, on board at the commencement of the engagement; and the sixty of these, posted in the gun room when the gun burst, having been of no further service during the action, could not be properly considered as forming part of the crew opposed to the 420 JOHN PAUL JONES. Serapis, which had received a supply of English sailors while in Denj ' mark; and it appeared, indeed, by tbe muster roll, that there were up wards of four hundred on board of her, when the first gun was fired. Her superiority was still more considerable in respect to guns, without mentioning her greater weight in metal, which surpassed ours beyond all comparison. Thus, setting aside the damage done by the Countess of Scarborough, during the fore-part of the action, and also by the three broadsides from the Alliance, it will be easy to form a due judg ment of the combat between the Richard and the Serapis, and set a proper value on a victory obtained over a force so greatly superior, af ter such a long, bloody and close engagement. The Vengeance, a corvette, mounting twelve three pounders, and the boat belonging to the pilot, with my second lieutenant, another officer and ten men, would have been of singular service, either in pursuing and capturing .the convoy, or by re-inforcing me; but strange as it may appear, the fact is, that they remained all this time mere specula tors of the action, in which they took no interest, keeping themselves to windward, and out of all danger; while, on the other hand, the con duct of the Alliance had at least, the appearance of proceeding from a principle worse than ignorance or insubordination. It must appear clear, from what has been already said, that if the enemy's ports were not annoyed, the Baltic fleet taken, and fhe eight lndiamen seized, the blame did not lie with me. It is but justice, however to observe, that some of my officers con ducted themselves admirably during the action. The lieutenant, Mr. Dale, being left alone at the guns below, and finding he could not rally his men, came upon deck, and superintended the working of the pumps, notwithstanding he had been wounded. Notwithstanding~all his ef forts, the hold was more than half full of water when the enemy sur rendered. During the last three hours of the action, both the vessels were on fire; by throwing water on the flames, it was sometimes supposed that they were quenched, but they always broke forth anew, and on the close of the action, we imagined it wholly extinguished. It was very calm during the remainder of the night; but when the wind began to blow, our danger became imminent, the fire having penetrated the tim-f bers, and spread until it had reached within a few inches of the pow der magazine. On this, the ammunition was brought on the deck to be thrown inthe sea, in case of extremity; but we at length, succeed ed in our endeavors, by cutting away a few planks, and employing our buckets. JDH* PAUL vIOJIES. 421 jJ^ct.Rj^oJagth© Weather- was jiassy and not a sail to be seen, < We thg^exami|ig4tbe>JP&har4to se»-if 'k- W'ere. possible to carry her into any fort. ,„T-his provjmg wefaolly impraj!tiea-ble,all the boats were'em- pl^yed- in carrying the .«MHjiled on board the ether vessels.? Thisoe* cupfod much 'os|: our time, i^d; on -the- succeeding day, not-withstand- mg all our pumps bad- been, at work, the hold was entirely JuH of wa ter, and the- vessel soon after sunk. -Ok this occasion I could-only jsjps© thjgjsignal flags, aadJM#§& all my property, amounting to ©ope than 5j0aOlivres. , ,,* , ..-.>_ .*.,,. ¦> ... \ jf)n this I instantly assumed the eommand of.4he Serapis, on whieh we«rected jury masts; but the sea was so tempestuous, that it was ten days before weaeachedKhe-^exeJ.i-x-:-X ''¦-'''¦& - v X - sN?" sooner was my ar*ivaJ'kniBwn,-tha.»"-fopty-twfl *e|fe^.- forming different sqswte«»S/ of frigates, were fitted out from the various ports in. Great , Britain againsfcme, aadftwo of these werevgtationed: Auring thfee, months at the mouthsef the Texml and the Fly, My situation in HoUand'influericed not a #fi§e the eojjd'iiet of the belligerent powers^ at th&.same time that itgexcited tha attention- of all Europe. The En glish minister at:the Hague addrjffega1 different memorials to the states- gpft^ral, in all, which he insisted that the .Serapis gjnd4ji«; Countess pf Seaiborough'^Aouldbe delivered: up tothe-king, his mastei^' and he, at Ihe- same time, claimed- me iijufefr. the appellation- of ''the .-Sieatfih pirate.." -'•'-. •¦ . ¦ , .. ,,;,-,,.,•-: -..- Instead of listening to these propositions} X*-f-i. * -; ^. In th&, meantime t had.an mb^ie^y,ii^Xhe'.$#k@ d.e, la Vanguypp, atf^eis^da^r, wh(% intimated to,mewthat it,ip§ the.i^tent;io», qjf,,,the, king of Fi;»nce,thst I shofi^Jpjajsfehiftflag dwring my stay inJJsgtJTexr el,, as he^imagined that my prizes woitld assuredly fell into, the ene-' 54 4f2 J0HM PAUL JONES. my's hands if I tried to escape— I, however,- refused this honor, as I had declared myself an American officer, and had given a copy of my Commission from congress to the Dutch admiral. It was contrived however* at length, that I,,ghould go on board the frigate Alliance,' the captain of which had been sent to Paris, to give an account o£ his conduct,,and where I should still carry my former colours, while,th* prizes should hoist the French flag. ' At length the wind becoming favorable, on the 27th of February, 1779, the Alliance set sail after.having lost all her anchors, one .only excepted, in consequence of admiral Rhynst's instructions to the pi lot; and it, was at least an hundred to one, that we should fall in with foe enemy. Lhowever, had the good fortune to escape, although the Ajliance passed the Straits, of Dover, within sight of the English squadroh in, the Downs. After getting clear of the Channel, I soon reached- the latitude o'f Cape Finisterre, and entered, the. .port of, Cb- runna, January 16, 1780. On. my return, to. France, I found that the French commissary had made a private sale of my prizes to the king without consulting me. On this I repaired to Versailles, along, with Dr. Franklin, hut was re ceived with great coolness by the minister of the marine. On this ac count I declined asking him to represent mc to his majesty. ..This honor was conferred on me next day by the Prince de Beauveau, cap tain of the guards. The public received me at the opera, and all .the public places where T appeared, with the most lively enthusiasm;. this, added to the very favorable reception I received from Jus majesty^ afforded me singular satisfaction ; and the minister .of the marine from that moment paid me the most marked -attention. . , . The count de Maurepas about this time intimated to me, that his majesty had resolved to confer some distinguished mark of his bounty and personal esteem on me; this proved- to be, a .sword, mounted with* gold, on which was engraven the following flattering motto: — VINDICATI MARIS LUDOVICUS XVI. REMXTNERATOR STKElftJO VINDICI. The hilt was of gold, and the blade, &c. were emblazoned with his majesty's arms, the attributes of war, ahd an emblematical repre sentation of the alliance between France and America. The most christian ting, at the same time, transmitted a most admirable letter to congfrftss, in which he offered to decorate me with the order of mili tary merit. All this -was extremely flattering, as Louis XVI. bad JOHN PAUL JPNES. 423 never presented a sword to any other officer, and never conferred the cross-, except Pn such officers as were invested with his majesty's commission. The minister ofthe marine, a short time after this, lent me the Ariel, a king's ship, carrying twenty guns, with which I sailed, Oc tober 8th, 1780, for America. The wind was at first favorable; but I was soon after in danger of foundering on the Penffiarks— and es caped only by cutting away my main and mizen masts. As soon as the storm abated, we erected jury masts, find- returned to refit; in short, it was the 18th of December before I could proceed for Phila delphia. During the voyage, I fell in with an English twenty gun ship, called the Triumph, and partly by stratagem,- and partly by hard fighting, forced her to strike her flag; but while we were about to take posses sion of her,'the captain taking advantage of her superior sailing, made off, and escaped. On my arrival in America, the- congress, on the representation of the chevalier de la Luzerne, passed a law tosenable me to accept the military order of France. The French minister, on this occasion, gave an entertainment, to which all the members of congress, and the principal inhabitants of Philadelphia were invited; after which I was invested, in their presence, with the decorations of the order. As the three ministers plenipotentiary from America- had unfortu nately disagreed, it necessarily follows that there would be some con.- tradiction in respect to their reports concerning me. In consequence cf this, the congress enjoined- the admiralty to inquire into the nature of my connexion wi,fh the court of. France, and the reasons which had induced me to remain in Europe, and delay the convoy of 'the mili tary stores appertaining to the- United. States. In consequence of the examination that ensued, and the report that was delivered in, the con gress passed an act, dated April 14, 1781, in which I was thanked, in the most flattering, manner, 'ffor the zeal, the prudence, and the intre pidity, With which I had sustained the honor of the American flag; fbr my bold and successful enterprises, with a view to redeem from captivity the citizens of America, Who had fallen into the power pf the English, and for the eminent services by whi6h I had added lustre a to my own character and the arms- of America." A committee of • congress was also of opinion, "that I deserved a gold medal, in remem brance of my services." ¦ ..--. ;«, On the 21st of June, 1781, 1 was appointed, by an unanimous vote of congress, to the command of the America, a seventy -four gun ship, 424 JOHN PAUL JONES. then building; and on the birth of the Dauphin, I, atmy-owmexpense, celebrated that happy event by royal salutes during the day, and a brilliant illumination in the evening, accompanied by fire-works. An unfortunate accident soon after this, deprived me of the command of that fine vessel : for the Magnifique, of seventy-four guns, belong ing to the marquis de VaudreuiPs fleet, happening to be lost at Boston) the congress seized on this occasion fo testify its gratitude to his moat christian majesty, by presenting him with the America to replace her. In the mean time, it was resolved to place a-French frigate, called VIndienne, with two or threearmed vessels,- under my orders, in order to seize on Bermudas; but as 'this was never put into execution, I ap plied to congress for leave to serve on board the fleet of the count d'Es taing, then destined for an expedition against Jamaica. The marquis de Vandreuil- received me with' great distinction oh board his- own ship,the Triumphant, where! occupied the same cabin as the baron de Viomenil, who commanded the land forces. When we were -in sight of Porto Rico, intelligence was received, that admirals Pigot. and Hood were preparing to intercept us ; and as Don Solano, with the Spanish fleet, did not meet us at Porto Cabello, according. to his promise, many of the- officers becoming disgusted with the enter prise, fellsick-, and 1 myself was in a dangerous state; but we were relieved from our disagreeable situation, by intelligence from Europe, that a general peace had taken place. This circumstance afforded me great pleasure; as I now learned that Great Britain, after a long and bloody contest, had been forced to recognize the sovereignty and inde pendence of the United States of America. On this, we repaired to St. Domingo, where I received every possi ble mark of esteem from Mr. De Bellecombe, the governer; after a short stay, I embarked for Philadelphia, penetrated with gratitude for the various marks of esteem Ihad. received from all the French officers during the five months I had been on board his majesty's squadron. -. I was unable to re-establish my health, during the rest of the sum mer, which I spent in Pennsylvania; and I did not get well until the autumn, when I recovered by means of the cold bath. '& J I then demanded permission to return to Europe, on purpose to reco- f the prize money due to myself, officers and sailors, which was '^granted me by an act of .congress, dated at Princeton, November- 1,..- '"1783. ,Vr'On ftiis, I embarked at Philadelphia, on board a pecket boat destined to Havre de Grace ; but being forced into Plymouth by contrary winds, I took post-horses for London, and then set out for Paris, and was re- ¦cei^ed with great cordiality by the ministry. ; *... JOHN BARRY. 425 :. Having at length received>from the court of France the amount of the prizes, I returned to America on board a French packet boat. JOHN BARRY, Commpdpre in the American Navy. "The father of the commodore was a respectable farmer in the county of Wexford, Ireland, where his son, the subject of this memoir, was born in the year 1745. After having received the first elements of an English education, to gratify his particular inclination for the sea, his, father entered him into the merchant service. When about fifteen years of age, be arrived i» Pennsylvania, and selected it as the country of conse quence, of which the vessel he commanded was laid up in ordinary, and he once more rdturned to private life. Bold, brave, and enterprising, he was, at the same time, humane and generous. He was a good citizen, and greatly esteemed by all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. His person was above the ordinary size, graceful and commanding; his deportment-dignified, and his countenance expressive. -. .- He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th ef September, 1803, and a vast concourse of his fellow-citizens testified their respect to his memory, by attending his remains to the silent grave."* • NICHOLAS BIDDLE, '** Commodore in the American Navy. . "CArTATN Biddle was born in the city of Philadelphia, in the year 1750. Among the brave men who perished in the gterious struggle for theilndependence.of America, captain Biddle holds a distinguished rank. His services, and the high expectations raised by his militatjj;, * ; v + Wilson's American Biography. NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 429 genius and gallantry,- have left a strong impression of his merit, and a profound regtfet that his early fate should have disappointed so soon the hflpesof his country^ - • ^^feryeatfly in life he manifested a partiality for the sea, and before the age- of- fourteen he had made a voyage to Quebec. Ih the follow- ing* year ,-1765, he sailed from Philadelphia to Jamaica, and the bay of Honduras. The Vessel left the .bay in the latter end of December, 1765, bound to Antigua, and on the second day of January, in a heavy gale of? wind', she was cast away on a shoal, called the Northern Triangles. After remaining two nights and a day1 upon the wreck, the Crew took to their yawl, the long-boat having been tost, and with great difficulty and landed on one of the small uninhabited islands, about three 3B» distant from the reef upon which they had struck. Here they Staid a few days. Some provisions were -procured from the wreck, and tfalfe boat was refilled. "As it was too small to carry them all off, they drew lets to determine who should remain, and young Biddle Was among the number. Hie and his three companions suffered extreme hard ships for want of provisions and good water-; and, although various efforts were made for their relief j it was nearlyHwo months before they &Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the commencement of his-eareer., would havetfeeoatageda youth of ordinary enterprise and perseverance. On bimfit pwflhreed no such effect.- The coolness and promptitude with which he acted in the midst of perils that alarmed the oldest seamen? gave a sure presage of the force of his character; and after he bad returned home, - he. made several European voyages', in which he acquired a thorough knowledge of seamanship. ,'$n the iyear .1770, when a war between Groat Britain and Spain was expected, in consequence of the dispute relative to Falkland's^ island, he went to London>in order to, enter into the British navy. He* tools with him letters of recommendation icom Thomas Willing, Es^iQ to his brother-in-law, captain Sterling, on board ef whose shipihel served fer spme time as a midshipman. The dispute with Spain beffig* accommodated, he intended to leave the navy, but was persuadadj>y captain Sterling to remain in fhe service, promising that he woSl'd use all his interest to get him promoted. His ardent mind, however, could nofcrest .satisfied with the inactivity of his situation, which he was im patient to change for one more suited to his disposition. - ;¦ "In the jjear 1773,. a voyage of discovery was undertaken, at the " request of the roswk society, in order to aseertain how far navigation was practicable towsrdsthe North Pole$ to advance the discovery ofa 55 North-west passage info the South seas^ a*rd to make suchasttonomical ohservations as might prove serviceable to navigation. <*J*- - - .5 c- ¦ "Two vessels, the Race Horse and Carcase, were fitteddiut forthe expedition, the command of which was givea to captain BhippSitifter- ward lordMiilgrave. The peculiar dangers to which suchan aoder- takfog was exposed, induced the government to take efeftaiwiitey precautions in fitting' fflrt trid^reparing the vessel* afiff sel'etttl^tln crews, and a positive order waa'isstted that no bwjs should be received on-board.' ... * *. ,.-, ¦ft ¦ To the bold and ^ffterpristng Spirit of youBg Biddle, such an expe dition had gieat attractions. Extremely anxious to jota-**1, he endea vored to prwMreciptain SterHng's permission for tha%pi8SjpaseS; buthe was unwilling to part lvith him, an&V would not consent to let him-„.» ...... „_. . , "These iUti-epW navigators" penetrated asfaras!thelatitaae*f eigh- £-one degrees and t^irty^nine ntifrutes, and they were at^netimeer^ |sed with movfhtatrrs of fcey snd their vessels rendered'alBiost ies- gdable for five days, at the hazard of instant^estroetion. Capftrin Sidjile kept a "journal* of his Vtryage; whteh Was afterward Josfr-with ?'The commencement df the revolution gave a new -tarn to his 48* HSdi»My- appointed, commander *jf tfep Andrew Dprla, $ brig of four teen guns and one hundred and .thirty men. . Paul Janes, who was then a lieutenant, and was going on the expedition, was distinguished by captain Biddle, and.intrpduced to las friends as an officer of merit. -^^forehje^ailed f>pp,the capes of Delaware, an incident occurred, whieb marked his personal jnte$r*idi*y. Hearing that twe deserters from-feis vesselwereaUjewistownin prison,an officer was sent on shore feftthem; buthe returned irith information tha| the two men, with some otheiKj bad armed themselves, barricaded the door, and swore tbey yould not be taken; -that the mibtia of the town had been sent far, .but were afraid to open the door, the prisoners threatening to shoot theiiipt man who estwed,^ CaptaiuuEWdleiiBn^iately went to tbe prison, ac- eompanied by a ,midshipman^ajad«calli(!g tppne of the deserters, whose name was Green, a. stout, jsespjute fellow, ordered bim to open the door; he replied that he awwld not,.and if he attempted to enter, he would shoot him. . He then ariered the dporto be forced Enteriag singly, with a. pjBtol ia..eaeh Jiaod, .bewailed to, Gjeen, who was prepared te fire, and said, 'now, Green, if you do not take good aim, you are a dead man.' ?¦¦¦ "After refitting at New-London, captain Biddle received orders -to proceed off the banks of Newfoundland, in order to intercept the trans ports and store ships bound to Boston. Before he reached the banks, he captured two ships from Scotland, with four hundred Highland troops on board, destined for Boston. At this time the Andrew Doria had not one hundred men. Lieutenant Josiah, a brave and excellent officer, was put on board one of the prizes, with all the Highland- offi cers, and ordered to make the firstport. Unfortunately, about ten days afterward, he was taken by the Cerberus frigate, and «* "In the latter end of the year 1776, captain Biddle was appointed to Uf BIDDLE. 4§3 the command of the Randolph, a frigate of thirty-two guns. With his usual activity he employed every exertion to get her ready for sSa; Tlie difficulty of procuring American seamen at that time, obliged him, in-order to man -his ship, to take a number of British seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who had requested leave to enter. ? "The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia in February, 1777. Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were' discovered to be unsound, and, in a heavy sgale* of wind, all her" masts went by the board. While they were bearing away for Charleston, the English sailors, with some ©thereof the crew, formed a design to take the ship. When all was ready, they gave three cheers on the gun deck.- By the decided and resolute conduct of captain Diddle and his officers-,' the ringleaders Were- seized and punished, and ihe rest submitted without farther re- sistance. After refitting- at Charleston as speedily as possible, he sailed -on a cftiise;,,and,'thT,eedays -after he left the bar, he fell in with Tour sail of ¦ vessels1 bdund from Jamaica to London. One of them, called the True'lfeitoii; mounted twenty guns. The commander of her, who hid frequently expressed to his passengers, his hopes of falling in with the Randolph, as soon as he perceived her, made alt tbe sail he .could from her; but finding be could not escape, he hove to, and kept up a constant fire, until the -Randolph bad bore'down upon him, and was pre paring for a broadside, when he hauled down his colors. By her supe rior sailing; the -Randolph was enabled to capture the rest of the ves sels; and in one week from fhe time he- sailed from Charleston, cap tain Biddle returned theife with his prizes; which proved to be very- valuable. "Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of South Carolina made exertions for fitting out an expedition under his commaud. His nam6, and the personal attachment to hint, urged forward a crowd of volunteers to serve with him; and; in a short time, tbe ship General Moultrie, the 'bitgS'" Fair American and Polry', and the Notre Dame, were prepared for sea. A detachment of fifty men from the first regi ment of Sooth Carolina Continental infantry, were- Ordered to act as ma rines on board the Randolph. Such was the attachment which the honorable and amiable -deportment of captain Biddle had impressed daring his stay at Charleston, and such the Confidence inspired by bis professional conduct and valor, that a general emulation pervaded the corps to have the honor of serving under his' command. The tour of doty, after a generous competition among the officers, was decided to captain Jodr and lieutenants Grey and Simmons, whose gallant conduct and that of their brave detachment, did j ustice to the high character of the 434 NICHOLAS BII regiment. As soon as the Randolph was refitted, and a new mainmast obtained in place of one which had been struck with lightning, she- dropped down to Rebellion-Roads with her little squadron. Their in tention was to attack the Carysfort frigate, tbe Perseus twenty-£>ur gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of sixteen guns, and a privateer which bad been cruising off the bar, and had much annoyed the trade. "They were detained a considerable time in Rebellion-Roads, after they were ready to sail, by contrary winds and want of water on the bar for the Randolph. -,.-,¦,. As soon as they got over the bar, they stood to the eastward, in ex* pectation of falling in with the British cruisers. The next day they retook a dismasted ship from New-England: as she had no cargo on board, they took out her crow, six light guns, and some stores, and set her on fire. Finding that, the British ships had left -tbe coast, they pro ceeded to the West Indies, and cruised to the eastward, and nearly in the latitude of Barbadoes, for some days, during which time theyboaSd- ed a number of French and Dutch ships, and took an English schooner frpm New-York, bound to Grenada, which had mistaken die Randolph for a British frigate, and was taken possession of before the mistake was discovered. * "On the night of the 7th March, 1779, the fatal accident occurred, which terminated the life of this excellent officer. For some days pre viously, he had expected an attack. Captain Blake, a brave officer, who commanded a detachment of the second South Carolina regiment, serving as marines on board the General Moultrie, and to whom we are indebted for several of the ensuing particulars, dined on board the Randolph twp days before the engagement. At dinner, captain Biddle said, 'we have been cruising here for some time, and have spoken a number of vessels, who will no doubt,' give information of us, and I should not be surprised if my old ship should be out after us. As to any thing that carries her guns upon one deck, 1 think myself a match for her.' About three P. M. of the 7th of March, a signal was made from the Randolph for a sail to windward, in consequence of which the Squadron hauled upon a wind, in order to speak her. It was four o'clock before she could be distinctly seen, when she was discovered to be a ship, though, as she neared and came before the wind, she had the appearance of a large sloop with poly a square-sail set. About seven o'clock, the Randolph being to windward, hove io; the Moultrie, being about one hundred and fifty yards astern, and rather to leeward, also hove to. About eight o'clock the British ship fired a shot just ahead of the Moultrie, and hailed her; the answer was, the Pciy* of New- NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 435 ¥«wk; upon which she immediately hauled her wind and hailed the Randolph. She was then, for the first time, discovered to be a t#o- decker. After several questions asked and answered, as she was ran ging 'up along side >the Randolph, and had got on her weather quarter, lieutenant Barnes, of that ship, called out ''this is the Randolph,' and she immediately hoisted her colors and gave the enemy a broadside. Shortly afterXhe action commenced, captain Biddle received a wound inthe thigh and- fell. - This occasioned some confusion, as it was atfirst thought that he was killed. He soon, however, ordered a chair to be htoHght, said that he was only slightly wounded, and being carried for ward* encouraged the crew. --The stern of the enemy's ship being clear of the Randolph, tha captain of sthe Moultrie gave orders to fire, bat the eneray having, shot ahead, so-as to bring the Randolph between them, the last broadside of the Moultrie went into the Randolph, and fc was thought by one of the men saved, who was stationed on the quarter-tffeok near 'captain Biddle, that he was wounded by a shot from the Moultrie. Tbe fire from the Randolph was constant and well di- rected. She fired nearly three broadsides to tbe enemy's one, and she appeared, while the battle lasted, to be in, a continual blaze. In about twenty minutes after the action began, and while the surgeon was ex- aBainiag captain Biddle's, wound on the quarter-deck, the Randolph blew up. "The enemy's, vessel was the British ship Yarmouth, of sixty-four guns, commanded by captain Vincent. So closely were they engaged, tiiat^gaptain Morgan,, of the.Fair American, and all his crew, thought that, jt was the. enemy's ship, d^t had blown up. He stood for the. Yar- naouth, apd had,§ trumpet in his hand fo hail and inquire how captain Biddle w,as, when b^djscpvered his mistake. Owing to the disabled qgnjgifjgpn^f the Yarmouth, the other vessels escaped. ^jfThi^ cause qf fhe explosion was never ascertained, but it is remark- aJ^, ,sth^ just before he sailed, after the clerk had copied the signals andjpkjrs for the aimed vessels, that accompanied him, he wrote at the foot of , theni, !in, gase of coming to action in the night, be very careful of your magazines.' The number of persons on board ihe Randolph was .tiju^h^pdjre^apdj fifteen, who all perished except four men, who were tossed about.^ for fpyr days on a piece of the wreck before they were discovered, and taken up. From the information of two of these men, ^ho, were .afterward in- Philadelphia, and of some individuals in the other vessels of the squadron, we have been enabled fo state some particulars of this unfortunate event, in addition to fhe accounts given of ,it by Dr. Ramsey, in^his History, of the American revolution, and 4fR> EDWAED ifebs History (0&4i«v«evphttion o£ Soothe Carobna. Int mck, the historian Aus concludes b» accoumW me action: 'captain Biddle, who perished onboard the Randolph, was umvetsaBy^ainentod- He was in the prime of Urn, and had excited high expectations «t*. fix ture usefulness to bis country, as a bold and skilful nawalofficer.V "Thus prematurely feU, at tbe age of twenty-seven, as gallant an officer as any country ever boasted «f. -Am tbe ahaet career which Pro vidence allowed to him, he displayed all those qualities which coosti- tute a great soldier. Brave to excess, and consummately skilled in bis profession, no danger nor unexpected event ceuld shake-his'tiBnmea%cr disturb his preseoce of mind. An exact and rigid #fr*Ti***°™"Jsfct*'> tempered bis authoriadelfmia, the bashaw at first affected to-avengehimself -by'a severe treatment of the captives; but this was not long persisted irr. . "When the first consul of France, in March, at the instance of Mr. Livingston, directed his commissary at this regeney^to medfete for their release, Mr. Beaussier undertook tbe*tffnee, afad'announced to the commodore that one hundiredaind fifty thousand dollars, with some usual gratuities, would, probably effect the object, and that perhaps a cartel for the exchange of prisoners might be negotiated, which would reduce the sum. The commodore did not think himself authorised to agree- to these terms, and never would go beyond eighty thousand; not that the amount was important, except on principle, and- as it might affect our relations with, the other Barbary- powers. From first to last, it was a point of honor, with the bashaw, not to give up the American captives for a foss sum than had been usually received from most of the powers of Europe in similar cases. But he was glad at last to accept of sixty thousandv dollars, satisfied, np doubr,.'-that our naval armament would be coeval at least with his hostility, if not at all times equally active and formidable; but especially at that moment apprehensive that bis brother's general Eaten, if not disarmed by n* gotiation, would reinstate Hamet in the sovereignty of Tripoli. "On tlie 1st of April, the, commodore went to display.his force at Tunis, where he found a Tripoline polacre dismantled, -having been blockaded for sixteen days by captain Decatur. The bey of Tunishad for some time. been, uneasy at? his treaty with the United"- States, and insisted that the commodore should land and satisfy. him for some pro perty alleged to be unlawfully seised by the fooner squadron. . The commodore made answer, that it was not his business, and that he must put to sea. He found it necessary to watch Tunis during the whole of his command. * In- the spring he took another prize, a TripolinST and upon the presumptiQnVoyage to+France with Thomas Barclay, Esq. the con sul-general from the"revolt§l colefflfes to tfiat country, a passefoger" on beard, he fell in #ith a British private ship of War, mounting thirty^ two girhs,shd a ¦¦jKioitortiona'te number of me*, consequently nearly double his foree. After a ses^re and 'close engagement^ the ^einy was ofeliged'fto1 shee* off, and was afterward towedinto New-York- in a Very crippled state." The late secretary' bf the navy, WjillianvJonesj Esqj. acted as eapwfti Truxtun's thir& IteutenSiftt, an! conducted him self during the- whole engagement with sucl* distinguisHed- bravery, that he was Shortly after promoted *.o a first Meuteifl&tBSyV^-In this veS-'; stel Truxtun returned safe fo Philadelphia *Witb a most variable cargo. HeusedeVery means in his power to harass the'eneiby on the ocean, during every period ol^the war,%hcNiohslSintiy evineedthe mostcon- 58' 454 THP.MAS TKUXTQN. summate skill and undaunted courage; and his exertions W$re almost universally crowned with complete success. He likewise, in fwo in stances, distinguished himself on land. "On the return of peace, he continued bis professional pursuits be tween this country, Europe and Asia, until 1794, when the lowering appearances of our affairs with Great Britain, in consequence of -thp conduct of her naval commanders, under the celebrated Corp Order of Council, in 1793, induced the establishment pf a %£vy, which they could then do, without infracting the treaty ef peace, which prohibited them from such an attempt for twelve years. The term of prohibition had just expired General Washington, theu president, by advice and consent of the senate, appointed him captain of one of the six ships of war which had been ordered to be built. But the building of these vessels was suspended in consequence of the treaty of 1795. On the abrogation of the consular convention with France, in the pea} 1798, during the administration of Mr. John Adams, captain Truxtun was directed to superintend the building of the frigate Constellation, at Baltimore, of which he was appointed commander, .-. This vessel was one of the first which put to sea in consequence of the hostile attitude assumed hy tbe United States towards the French Republic. His or ders were to cruise in the West India seas for the protection of Ameri can property. The 9th of February, 1799, he fell in with the French frigate L'Insurgente, captain Barreau, off the island of St. Neyjs.. With this vessel he commenced a severe engagement, which lasted for an hour and a quarter, when the Frenchman •struck; but not until his ship had become a mere wreck. The Constellation, mounting thirty- six guns, and a proportionate crew, lost, in this engagement, only one man killed and two wounded, while the loss on board tbe Insurgente, mounting forty-four guns, with four hundred and seventy men, was twenty killed and forty-four wounded. With his prize he put into Basse Terre, St. Christopher's, where be refitted and returned te Ame rica. This was the first action which had taken place since the com mencement of the disturbance between the United States and France. The fame of the achievement was blazoned abroad, both in Europe and America, and produced tbe commodore the most flattering marks of distinction. The merchants at&Lloyd's coffee-house, London, sent him a present of a service of silver plate, with a satiable device, val ued at upwards of six hundred guineas. The captive commander, in a letter to the commodore, while he. lamented the unhappy posture of affairs between the two countries, expressed himself as being well pleased that the chance of war had thrown him into such gallant and THOMAS TRUXTON. 455 brave hands, and thanked the commodore for his generous conduct to wards himself and his crew. "During his cruise he captured many private armed and Other ves sels, and completely cleared those seas of the French cruisers, by which so many depredations had been committed on the American and En glish commerce in that quarter. "While our other vessels of war were busily engaged in convoying the American commerce, the commodore (a title acquired by courtesy, as the laws of the United States know of no such officer) heard in Jan uary, 1800, that the French ship of war La Vengeance, mounting fif ty-four guns, with a compliment of five hundred men, was lying at Gaudaloupe with troops and several general officers on board, intending to put to sea. He immediately changed his cruising ground, and en-. deavored to fall in with her, and if possible, to bring her to action. The superiority of her force was, in a great measure, counterbalanced by a complement of too many men, and a number of troops. "On the first of February, his wishes were gratified, as he descried her on the morning of that day, and after twelve hours chase, brought her to action. In consequence of having too many troops, and a great number of officers on board, the French commander was unwilling to risk a combat, but the intentions of his gallant antagonist were very different. An engagement took' place, and after a close action of near ly five hours, the Frenchman was silenced. During a squall, while the Americans were busily engaged in clearing their ship, the French captain effected his escape. "This he was enabled to do by the darkness of the night, although, prior to this circumstance, he had struck his eolors, as he afterward acknowledged, but was induced to renew the contest, believing it to be the intention of his antagonist to sink him. The Vengeance now arrived at Curacoa in a very shattered condition, having lost in foe en gagement one hundred killed and wounded, and all her masts and rig ging nearly shot away. Congress, on this occasion, voted Truxton an emblematic medal, for his gallantry and good conduct. "After Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of the presidential office, the commodore was ordered to the Mediterranean. From some cause' or other he declined the service, and his resignation was accepted, and another officer succeeded him. Considering his resignation as tempo rary, he some time afterward wished to resume his naval command, but was informed that, as his resignation had been final, his wishes could not be gratified. lie retired to Philadelphia, to enjoy the plea sing scenes of domestic life, until 1816, when the citizens of the city 456 THOMAS TRDXTHN. and county of Philadelphia evinced ffaeir respect fpr his various servi ces rendered them in the most perilous times, by electing bim to fill the important office of sheriff, the duties of which,he .discharged with general satisfaction, notwithstanding that his eJgi{atio%was opposed by party clamor and prejudice."* , .. .;.,,,., -i, ?American Biographical Dictionary, PART IV. BIOGRAPHY EMINENT AMERICAN STATESMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. Bkkjajcen Fkakkltn was bom at Boston, on the 17th of January, 1706. His ancestors were from the county of Northampton, in En gland, where mey had for many generations possessed a small freehold estate, near the village of Eaton. During the pemecutions in. the reign of Charles IL, against the puritans, the father of Benjamin, who was of the persuasion, emigrated to America, and settling-in Boston, had recourse for a livelihood to the business of a chandler and soap' boiler. His mother's name was Folger. She was a native of Boston^ and belonged to a respectable family. At an early age, young Franklin discovered, as his parents thought a more than ordinary genius ; and tbey resolved to give him an edu cation, with reference to the profession of a clergyman. Accordingly he was placed at a grammar school, where he soon attained the repu tation of a lad of industrious habits, and respectable genius. His parents-, however, at the expiration of a year, found that their slender revenues would not admit of the expense of collegiate in struction. He was, therefore, soon after taken home to prosecute the business of his father. In tbis occupation he was employed fat two years, but it was ill adapted to his constitution, and he felt unwilling to continue cutting wicks for candles, filling moulds, and running of er rands. He became uneasy, and at length resolved. to embark on a seafaring Ufe. To such a proposition, however, his parents strongly objected, -as they had already lost a son at sea. He was permitted, however, to change his business, and allowed to choose an occupation which was more congenial to bis inclinations. *flB8 BENJAMIN franklin. His fondness for books had, from an early age been singularly great. He read every thing within his reach. His father's library was itself scanty,*being confined to a few such works as Defoe's Essay upon Pro jects, Mather's Essay on Doing Good, and the lives of Plutarch. These he perused with great attention, and they appear to have exercised a favorable influence on his mind. His love of books was frequently noticed by his father, who, at length, proposed to bind him as an ap prentice to an elder brother, who was at that time a printer ofa news paper in Boston. He was accordingly thus situated, in the year 1717, when he was scarcely twelve years cf age. He soon became a pro ficient in the mechanical part of the business, and seized every appor- t unity for reading books that he could borrow from his acquaintances, in which employment he spent the greater part of his nights. He soon began to indulge himself in Writing ballads and other poetical pieces; but, it is said, that his father speedily satisfied him that this was not the species of composition in which he could excel. His next efforts. were directed to prose compositions, in which his success is well known and duly appreciated. With a passion for reading and writing,. he imbibed a kindred one for disputation; and adopting the Socratic method, he became dexetruos in confusing andc onfounding an antago nist, by a series of questions. This course gave him a sceptical turn with regard to religion, and while he was young he took every oppor tunity of propagating his tenets, and with the ordinary zeal of a new convert. He was, however, soon convinced, by the effect produced on some of his companions, that it was extremely dangerous to loosen the ties of religion, without the probability of substituting other principles equally efficacious. Tho doubts which subsisted in his own mind, he was never ablt* to remove; but he was not deficient in fortifying- him: self with such moral principles as directed him to the most valuable ends, by honorable means. By habits ef self-denial, early formed, he obtained a complete dominion over his appetite, so that at the age of sixteen, he readily discarded animal food, from the convietion produced in his mind by perusing a work on the subject, that he should enjoy a more vigorous state of health without it. He now offered his brother to maintain himself, for half the sum paid for his board; and even with this he was able to make savings to purchase what- books he wanted. In his brother he found a harsh master, and Benjamin felt indignant at the treatrhent which he experienced from him in the -Way of business. His brother had established a newspaper, in which -the apprenticecon- trived to insert some papers and essays anonymously. These were read and highly commended by people of the best judgment and tasts BBNJAMIN FRAJIKUN. 459 in, the town. The young man began now to feel his impwtan£%t which was still more impressed on him by having the paper published in his own name, that of his brother, for some political offence, having been interdicted bxthe "W^- ,..,-«¦.- On the release of his brother,, who had for some time been imprison-, ed for the above political offence, Franklin was treated by him with so much jseWfiity , that at length he determined to leave him. His inden tures, having before this been cancelled, he secretly went on board of a vessel, bound to New-York,, in which he took passage for that city. After a few days spent in New- York, having sought in vain to procure business, he proceeded.on foot, to Philadelphia, where he at length ar- rivedj.fatigued and destitute of all means of support. He was now but seventeen years of age, at the, distance of four hundred miles from home, nearly pennyless, without employ ment, without a counsellor, and unacquainted with a single person in the city. , The day following his arrival he wandered through the streets of Philadelphia with an appearance little short of a beggar. His pockets were distended by his clothqs, which were crowded into them ; and pro vided with a roll of bread, under each arm, he proceeded through the principal streets of , the city. His uncouth appearance attracted the no tice of several of foe citizens, and among others of a Miss Reed, who ' afterwards became his wife, and by whom, as he. passed along, be was thought to present a very awkward and ridiculous appearance. There were at this time but two printing offices in Philadelphia. - Fortunately, in one of these he found employment as a compositor. His conduct was very becoming; he was attentive to business, and eco nomical in his expenses. His fidelity not only commended him tp his master, but was noticed by several respectable citizensj^wfio promi sed him their patronage and support. ijL' Among others who took much notice of him, was Sir William Keith, at that time governor of the province. The governor having become acquainted with the history of his recent adventures, professed a deep in terest in his welfare, and at length proposed that he should commence bus iness on his own account; at the same time, promising to aid him with his influence and that cf bis, friends, and to give him the. printing pf the government. Moreover, the governor urged, him to return toBos- to%.tp solicit the concurrence and assistance of his father. At the same time, he gave him a letter to that gentleman, replete with assu rances of affection, and promises of support to the sen. .With this object in view,he sailed for Boston, and at length, after an absence of several month?, he again entered his father's house, He 460 B*N»AMIN FRANKIiEN. was affectionaleliy; received by the ^eti\p»> To his father he commu nicated the letter of governor Keith, which explained the object of -his return. His father, however judiciously advised him, on account of youth and inexperience, to relinquish the project offsetting up a print ing offi^y and wrote to this effect to his patron, g ed important services to general Braddock, in his wild and fatal expe dition against Fort Du Quesne. When, at length, Braddock was de feated, and the whole frontier was exposed to the incursions of the savages and the French, Franklin raised a company of volunteers, at the head of which he marched to the protection of the frontier. At length, in 1757, the militia was disbanded by order of the Bib BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 465 tish government, soon after which Franklin was appointed agent tp settle the disputes which had arisen between the people of Pennsyjvar nia and the proprietary government. With this object in view, he left his native country once more for England. On his arrival, he laid the subject before the privy council. The point in dispute was occasioned by an effort of the proprietors to exempt their private estates from tax ation; and because this exemption was not admitted, they refused to make appropriations for the defence of the province, even in times of the greatest danger and necessity. Franklin managed the subject with great ability, and at length brought the proprietary faction to terms. It was agreed, that the proprietary lands should take their share in a tax for the public service, provided that Franklin would en gage that the assessment should be fairly proportioned. The measure was accordingly carried into effect, and he remained at the British court as agent for his province. His reputation caused him also to be entrusted with the like commission from Massachusetts, Maryland and Georgia, The molestation received by the British colonies, from the French in Canada, induced him to write a pamphlet, pointing out the advantages of a conquest of that province by the English; and the Subsequent expedition against it, and its retention under the British government, at the peace, were, it is believed, much influenced by the force of his arguments on the subject. About this period, his talents as a philosopher were duly appreciated in various parts of Europe. He was admitted a fellow of the royal society of London, and the de gree of doctor of laws was conferred upon him at St. Andrews, Edin burgh, and at Oxford. In 1762, he returned to America. On his arrival, the provincial assembly of Pennsylvania expressed their sense of their meritorious services by a vote of thanks ; and as a remuneration for his successful labors in their behalf, they granted him the sum of five thousand dol lars. During his absence, he had annually been elected a member of the assembly, in which body he now took his seat. The following year he made a journey of sixteen hundred miles, through the north ern colonies, for the purpose of inspecting and regulating the post offices. In 1764, he was again appointed the agent of Pennsylvania, to manage her concerns in England, in which country he arrived in the month of December. About this period the famous stamp act was exciting violent commotions in America. Against this measure, Dr. Franklin strongly enlisted himself, and on his arrival in England, he presented a petition against it, which, at his suggestion, had been 466 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. drawn up by the Pennsylvania assembly. At length the tumults in America became so great, that the ministry found it necessary either to modify the act, or to repeal it entirely. Among others, Dr. Frank lin was summoned before the house of commons, where he underwent along examination. "No person was better acquainted with the cir cumstances and internal concerns of tbe colonies, the temper and dis position of the colonists towards the parent country, or their feelings in relation to the late measures of parliament, than this gentleman. His answers to the numerous questions put to him in the course of ihis. inqun\, not only show his extensive acquaimance with the internal- state of the colonies, but evince his sagacity as a statesman. To the question, whether, the American would submit to pay the stamp duty if the act were modified, and the duty reduced to a small amount?. He answered, no, they never will submittoit. British statesmen were extremely desirous that the.colonial assemblies should acknowledge. the right of parliament to tax them, and rescind and erase from their joqrnals their resolutions on this subject. To a question, whether the American assemblies would do this, Dr. Franklin answered, 'they never will do it, unless compelled by force of arms,'" The whole of this examination, on being published, was read with deep interest, both in England and America. To the statements of Dr, Franklin, the repeal of the stamp act was, no doubt, in a great mea sure, attributable. In the years 1766 and 1767, he made an excursion to Holland, Ger? many and Fiance, where he met with a most flattering and distin guished reception. To the monarch of the latter country, Louis XV. he was introduced, and also to other members of the royal family, by whom, as well as by the nobility and gentry at court,- he was treated with great hospitality and courtesy. About this time, he was elected a member of the French academy of scienses, and received diplomas from several other literary societies in England and on the continent. Allusion has already been made, in our introduction, to the discove ry and publication, in 1772, of certain letters of governor Hutchinsoh, addressed by that gentleman to his friends in England, and which re flected in the severest manner upon the people of America. These letters had fallen into the hands of Dr. Franklin, and by him had been transmitted to America, w here they were at length inserted in the pub lic journals. For a tim ', no one in England knew through what channel the letters had been conveyed to America. In 1773, Frank lin publicly avowed himself to be the person who obtained the let ters ".nd transmitted them to America. This occasioned a violent cla- BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 467 mor against him, and upon his attending before the privy council, in the following January, to present a petition from the colony of Mas sachusetts, for the dismission of Mr. Hutchinson, a most violent in vective was pronounced against him, by Mr. VVeddeburne, afterwards lord Loughborough-. Among other abusive epithets, the honorable member called Fra:;k'i.i a coward, a murdeier, and a thief. During the whole of this torrent of abuse, Franklin sat with a composed and unaverted aspect, or to use his own expression, in relation to himself on another occasion, "as if his countenance had been made of wood." During this personal and public insult, the whole assembly appeared greatly amused, at the expense of Dr. Franklin. The president even laughed aloud. There was a single person present, however, lord North, who, to his- nonor be it recorded, expressed great disap- prt.bation of ihe indecent conduct of the assembly. The intended insult, however, was entirely lost. The dignity and composure of Franklin caused a sad disappointment among his enemies, who were reluctant! v compelled to acknowledge the superiority of his character. Their animosity, however, was not to be appeased, but by doing Franklin the greatest injury within their power. They removed him from the office of deputy post master general, interrupted the payment of his salary as agent for the colonies, aud finally instituted against him a suit in chancery concerning the letters of Hutchinson. At length, finding all his efforts to restore harmony between Great Britain and the colonies useless; and perceiving that the controversy had reached a crisis, when his presence in England was no longer ne cessary, and his continuance personally hazardous, he embarked for America, where he arrived in 1775, just after the commencement of hostilities. He was received with every mark of esieern and affec tion. He was immediately elected a delegate to the general congress, in which body he did as much, perhaps, as any other man, to accom plish the independence of his country. In 1776, he was deputed by congress to proceed to Canada; to ne- gociate with the people, of that country, and to persuade them, if pos sible, to throw off the British yoke; but the inhabitants of Canada had been so much disgusted with the zeal of the people of New-England, who had burnt some of their chapels, that they refused to listen to the proposals made to them by Dr. Franklin and his associates. On the arri val of lord Howe in America in 1776, he entered upona correspondence with him on the subject of reconciliation. He was afterwards ap pointed with two others, to wait upon the English commissioners, and learn the extent of their powers; but as these only went to the grant- 468 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN* , ing of pardon upon submission, he joined his colleagues in consider-,; ing them as, sufficient. Dr. Franklin was decidedly in favof of a declaration of independence; and was appointed president of the con* vention assembled for the purpose of establishing a new government for the state of Pennsylvania. When it was determined by congresa to open a public negotiation with France, he was commissioned to visit that country, with which he negotiated the treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, which produced an immediate war between England and France. Dr. Franklin was one of the commissioners who, on the part of the United States, signed the provincial articles of peace in 1782, and the definite treaty in the following year. Be- -fore he left Europe, he concluded a treaty with Sweden and Prussia. By the latter he obtained several most liberal and humane stipulations in favor of the freedom of commerce, and the security of private pro perty during war, in conformity to those principles which he had ever t maintained on these subjects. Having seen the accomplishment of his wishes in the independence of his country, he requested to be re called, and after repeated solicitations, Mr. Jefferson was appointed in his stead. On the arrival of his successor, he repaired to Havre dd Grace, and crossing the English channel, landed at Newport in the Isle of Wight, whence, after a favorable passage, he arrived safe at Phil adelphia, in September, 1785. The news of his arrival was received with great joy by the citi zens. A vast multitude flocked from all parts to see hi n. and amidst the ringing of bells, the discharge of artillery, the acclamations of thousands, conducted him in triumph to his own house. In a few days he was visited by the members of congress and the principal inhabi tants of Philadelphia. From numerous societies and assemblies he received the most affectionate addresses. All testified their joy at his return, and their veneration of his exalted character. This was a period in his life of which he often spoke with peculiar' pleasure. "1 am now," said he, "in the bosom of my family, and find four new little prattlers, who cling about the knees of their grandpapa, and afford me great pleasure. I am surrounded by my friends, and have an affectionate good daughter and son-in-law to take care of me. ¦'¦ I have got into my niche, a very good house, which I built twenty-four - years ago, and out of which I have been ever since kept by foreign. employments." The domestic tranquillity in which ha now. found himself, he was not permitted long to enjoy, being appointed president ofthe common wealth of Pennsylvania, an office which he held for three years, and BENJAMIN FEANKLIN. 469 the duties of which he discharged very acceptably to his constituents. Of the federal convention of 1787, for organizing the constitution- of the United States, he was elected a delegate, and in the intricate dis cussions which arose on different parts of that instrument} he bore a distinguished part. In 1788, he withdrew from public life, his great age rendering re tirement desirable, and the infirmities of his body unfitting him fbr the burdens of public office. On the 17th of April, 1790, in the eighty-fourth year of his age, he expired in the city of Philadelphia: He was interred on the 21st of April. Congress directed a gene ral mourning for him, throughout the United States, for. the space ofa month. The national assembly of France testified their sense of the loss which the world sustained, by decreeing that each member should wear mourning for three days. This was an honor perhaps never be fore paid by the national assembly of one country to a citizen of an other. Dr. Franklin lies buried in Ihe northwest corner of Christ Church yard, in Philadelphia. In his will he directed that no monu mental ornaments should be placed upon his tomb. A small marble slab only, therefore, and that too, on a level with the surface of the earth, bearing the name of himself and wife, and the year of his death, marks the spot in the yard where he lies. Dr; Franklin had two children, a son and a daughter. The son, under the British government, was appoiuted governor of New-Jersey. On the occurrence of the revolution; he left America, and took up his residence in England, where he spent the remainder of his life. The daughter was respectably married in Philadelphia, to Mr. William Bache, whose descendants still reside in that city. In stature, Dr. Franklin was above the middle size. He possessed a -ihealthy constitution, and was remarkable for his strength and activi ty. His countenance indicated a serene state of mind, great depth of thought, and an inflexible resolution; Ii In his intercourse with mankind, he was uncommonly agreeable. fin conversation, he abounded in curious and interesting anecdote. A idvein of good humor marked his conversation, and strongly recom- emended him to both old and young, to the learned and illiterate. i As a philosopher, he justly ranks high. In his speculations^ he sel dom lost sight of common sense, or yielded up his understanding either to enthusiasm or authority. He contributed, in no small degree* to ithe extension of science, and to the improvement of the condition of imankind. He appears to have entertained, at some periods of his life, opinions which were in many respects peculiar, and which pro- 60 470 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. bably were not founded upon a sound philosophy. The following ex periment, which he made some years after his father's death, and af-.. ter an absence of several yrars, to ascertain whether his mother would ' know him, will be thought at least curious aud interesting. It was his conjecture, if not a well settled opinion, that a mother might, by a kind of instinct or natural affection, recognize her children, even al though she had lest the recollection of their particular features. It was on a visit to his native town of Boston, afier an absence of many years, that this curious incident occurred. "To discover the existence of this instinct by actual experiment," says an unknown writer, to whom we are indebted for the story, and upon whose responsibility we give it to our readers, "ihs doctor re solved to introduce himself as a stranger to his mother, and to watch narrowly for the moment in which she should discover her son, and then to determine, with the cool precision of the philosopher, whether that discovery was the effect of that instinct of affection, that intuitive love, that innate attachment, which is conjectured to cement relatives of the same blood; and which, by according the passions of parent and child, like a well tuned viol, would, at the first touch, cause them to vibrate in unison, and at once evince that they weredif- ferent chords of the same instrument. "On a sullen, chilly day, in the month of January, in the afternoon, the doctor knocked at his mother's door, and a»ked to speak with Mrs. Franklin. He found the old lady knitting before the parlor fire. He introduced himself, and observing, lhat he understood she entertained travellers, requested a night's lodging.. Shs eyed him with that cold lock of disapprobation which mott people assume, when they imagine themselves i.isulled, by bsi.ig supposed to exercise an employment but one degree below their real occupation in life — assured him that he had been misinformed, that she did not keep tavern; but that it was true, to mil ge some members of the legislature, she took a number of them into her family during the session; that she had four members of the council, and six of the house of representatives, who then boarded with her; that all her beds were full; and then betook herself to her knitting, with that intense application, which expressed, as forcibly as action could do, if you have concluded your business, the sooner you leave the house ili3 better. But upon the doctor's wrapping his coat around him, affecting to shiver with cold, and observiug lhat it was very chilly weather, she pointed to a chair, and gave him leave to warm himself. "The entrance of her bparders precluded all furthr conversation; BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 471 coffee was soon served, and the doctor partook with the family. To the coffee, according to the good old custom of the times, succeeded a plate of pippins, pipes, and a paper of M'lntire's best, when the whole family formed a cheerful smoking semi-circle before the fire. Perhaps no man ever possessed colloquial powers to a more fascinating decree than Dr. Franklin, and never was there an occasion when he displayed those powers to greater advantage, than at this time. He drew ihe attention of the company, by the solidity of his modest rema-ks, in structing them by the varied, new, and striking lights in which he placed his subjects, and delighted tbsm with apt and amusing anec dotes. Thus employed, the hours passed merrily along, until eight o'clock, when, punctual to a moment, Mrs. Franklin announced sup per. Busied with her household affairs, she fancied the intruding stranger had quitted the house immediately after coffee, and it was with difficulty .she could restrain her resentment, when she saw him, without molestation, seat himself at the table with the freedom of a member of the family. "Immediately after supper she called an elderly gentleman, a mem ber of council, in whom she was accustomed to confide, to another room; complained bitterly of the rudeness of ths stranger; told the manner of his introduction to her house;, observed that he appeared like an outlandish man; and she thought, had something very suspi cious in his appearance; concluding by soliciting hsr friend's advice with respect to the way in vvhich she could most easily rid herself of his presence. T|ie old gentleman assured her, thai the stranger was certainly a young man of education, and to all appearance a gentle man; lhat, perhaps, being in agreeable company he had paid no at tention to the lateness of the hour; and advised her to call him aside, and repeat her inability to lodge him. She accordingly se.it her maid to him, and then, with as much temper as she could command, recapit ulated the situation of her family, observed that it grew late, and mildly intimated lhat he would do well to ssek himself a lodging. The doc tor replied, that he would by no means incommode her family; but that, with here leave, he would smoke one pipe more with her boarders, and then retire. , "He returned to the company, filled his pipe, and with the first whiff his powers returned with double force. He recounted the hardships, he extolled the piety and policy of their .ancestors. A gentleman pre sent mentioned the subject of the day's debate in the house of repre sentatives. A bill had been introduced to extend the prerogatives of 4he royal governor. The Dr. immediately entered upon the subject-. 472 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, supported the colonial rights with new and forcible arguments; was familiar with the names of the influential men in the house, when Dud- , ley was governor; recited their speeches, and applauded the noble defence of the charter of rights. "During a discourse so appropriately interesting to the company, no wonder the clock strnck eleven, unperceived by the, delighted circle; and was it wonderful that the patience of Mrs. Franklin grew quite exhausted? She now entered the room, and, before the whole com pany, with much warmth, addressed the doctor; told him plainly, she thought herself imposed on; observed, it was true she was a lone woman, but that she had friends who would protect her, and concluded by insisting on his leaving the house. The doctor made a slight apolo gy, deliberately put on his great coat and hat, took polite leave of the company, and approached the street door, lighted by the maid, and at , tended by the mistress. While the doctor and his companions had been enjoying themselves within, a most tremendous snow storm had, without, filled the streets knee deep ; and no sooner had the maid liftea the latch, than a roaring northeaster forced open the door, extinguished the light, and almost filled the entry with drifted snow and hail. As soon as it was re-lighted, the doctor cast a woful look towards the door, and thus addressed his mother: 'My dear madam, can you turn me out in this dreadful storm 1 I am a stranger in this town, and shall cer tainly perish in the streets. You look like a charitable lady ; I should'nt think you could turn a dog from your door in this tempestuous night.' 'Don't tell me of charity,' said the offended matron; 'charity begins at home. It is your own fault you tarried so long. To be plain with you, sir, I do not like your looks, or your conduct ; and fear you have some bad designs in thus introducing yourself to my family.' "The warmth of this parley had drawn the company from the par lor, and by their united interference, the stranger was permitted to lodge in the house; and as no bed could be had, he consented to rest on an easy chair before the parlor fire. Although the boarders ap peared to confide, perfectly in the stranger's honesty, it was not so with Mrs. Franklin . With suspicious caution, she collected her sil ver spoons, pepper-box, and porringer, from her closet; and, after se curing her parlor door by sticking a fork over Ihe latch, carried the plate to her chamber; charged the negro man to sleep with his clothes on, to take the great lever to bed with him, and to waken and seize the vagrant at the first noise he made, in attempting to plunder the house. Having thus taken every precaution, she retired to her bed with her maid, whom she compelled to sleep in her room. BENJAMIN MRANKLIN. 0T& f'Mrs. Franklin rose before the sun, roused her domestics.unfouiteti- ed the parlor door with timid caution, and was agreeably surpriiad to find her guest sleeping on his own chair. A sudden transition from ox treme distrust to perfect confidence, was natural. She awakened him witb a cheerful good morning; inquired how he rested ; invited him to partake of her breakfast, which was always served previous to that of her boarders. 'And pray,sir,'saidthelady.assheshippedherchoco- late, 'as- you appear to be a stranger here, to what distant country do you belong ?' 'I, madam, belong to the city of PWtaMpWa.' At the mention of Philadelphia , the doctor declared he, for the first time, per ceived some emotion in her. 'Philadelphia.' said die, and all the mother suffused her eye: 'if you live ia Philadelphia, perhaps yen know our Ben/ 'Who madam?' 'Why Ben Franklin — my Ben. — Ohl he is the dearest child that ever blest a mother!5 'What,'' aid .the doctor, 'is Ben Franklin, the printer, your son; why he is my most intimate friend : he and I lodged in the same room.' *Ohl God fbigive me,' exclaimed the old lady, raising her watery eyes to heaven — ¦'and have I suffered a friend of my Benny to sleep in this hard chair, while I myself rested on a good bedf "How the doctor discovered himself to hi3 mother, he has not ia - formed -us; but from the above experiment he was firmly convinced, and was often afterwards heard to declare, that natural affection dal not exist." *- Few men have exhibited a more worthy conduct than did Dr. Fraafe- lin, through his long life. Through every vicissitude of fortune, be seems to have been distinguished for sobriety and temperance, fur bis extraordinary perseverance and resolution. He vas not less distin guished for his veracity, for the constancy of his friendship, lor bis candor, and his fidelity to his moral and civil obligations. In tbeeariy part of his life, he acknowledged himself to have been sceptical in re ligion, but he became in maturer years, according to the mtitmmy at his intimate friend, Dr. William Smith, a believer in divine rerettfiwi. The following extract from his memoirs, written by kitnselfj dsserrt* to be recorded ; "And here let me with all humility acknowledge, tikat to Divine Providence I am indebted for'the felicity I have hitherto en joyed. It is that power alone which has furnished me with tbe xeeanc I have employed, and that has crowned them with gacces*. Myfattb in this respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count apon k, that the divine goodness will still be exercised toward me, either by pro longing the duration of my nappineaajp the close of lifie, or &*v% tne fortitude to support any melancholy reverse which may happen to otf 474 JOHN ADAMS. as well as to many others. My future fortune is unknown but to Him, in whose hand is our destiny, and who can make our very affections subservient lo our benefit. We conclude our notice of this distinguished man and profound phi losopher, by subjoining the following epitaph, which was written by himself, many years previous to his dealh: The body of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, Like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stripped of its lettering and gilding, , lies here food for worms ; Yet the work itself shall not be lost, For it will (as he believed) appear once more- iu a new and more beautiful edition, Corrected and amended 1 by the Author. JOHN ADAMS, John Adams was born at Quincy, then partof the ancient town of Braintree, on the 19th day of October, old style, 1735. He was a descendant of the Puritans, his ancestors having early emigrated from England, and settled in' Massachuselts, Discovering early a strong love of reading and of knowledge, proper care was taken by his father to provide for his educan'on. His youthful studies were prosecuted in Braintree, under Mr. Marsh, a gentleman whose fortune it was to instruct several children, who in manhood were destined' to act a conspicuous part in the scenes of the Revolution. . He became a member of Harvard college, 1751, and was gradua ted in course in 1755: with what degree of reputation he left the university is not now precisely known; we only know that he was distinguished in a class of which the Reverend Dr. Hemmeway was a member, who bore honorable testimony to the openness and decision of his character, and to the strength and activity of his mind. Having chosen the law for his profession, he commenced and prose outed its studies under the direction of Samuel Putnam, a barrister of- JOHN ADAMS. 475 eminence at Worcester. By him he was introduced to the celebrated Jeremy Gridley, attorney-general of the province of Massachusetts Bay. At the first interview tbey became friends; Gridley at once proposed Mr. Adams for admission to the bar of Suffolk, and took him into special favor. Soon after his admission, Mr. Gridley led bis young friend into a private chamber wih an air of secrecy, and point ing to a bookcase, said, 'Sir, thsie is tha secret of niy eminence, and of which you may avail yourself as you please,' It was a pretty good collection of treatises of the civil law. In this place Mr. Adams spent his days and nights, until he had made himself master of the principles ofthe code. From early life, the bent of his mind was towards politics, a pro pensity which the state of the times, if it did not create, doubtless very much strengthened. While a resident at Worcester, he wrote a letter of which the following is an extract. The letter was dated October 12th, 1755. "Soon after the reformation, a few people came over into this new world for conscience sake: perhaps this apparently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely to me; for if we can remove the turbulent Gallicks, our peeple, according to the exactest ccmputalions, will, iri another century become more numerous than England itself. Should this be the case, since we have, I may say, all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain a mastery of the seas; and the united force of all Europe will not be able to subdue us.. The only \vay to keep us from setting up for oursslves is to disunite us. "Be not surprised that 1 am turned politician. The whole town is immersed in politics. The interests of nations and of all the dira of war make the subject of every conveisation. I sit and hear, and after having be,en led through a maze of sage observations, I some times retire and lay things together, and form some reflections pleas ing to myself. The produce of one of these reveries you have read." This psognostication of independence, a,nd of so vast an increase of numbers, and of naval force, as might defy all Europe, is remark able, especially as coming from so young a man, and so. early in the history of the country. It is more remarkable that its author should have lived to see fulfilled to the letter, what would have seemed to others at that lime, but the extravagance of youthful fancy. His early political feelings were thus strongly American, and from this ardent attachment to his native soil he never departed. In 1757, he was admitted to the bar, and commenced business in Braintree. He is understood to have made his first considerable effort, 476 JOHN ADAMS. or to have obtained his most signal success, at Plymouth, in a jurv trials and a criminal cause. In 1765, Mr. Adams laid before the pub lic his "Essay on the Canon and Feudal law," a work distinguished for its power and its eloquence. The object of this work was to show that our New-England ancestors, in consenting to exile themselves from their native land, were actuated mainly by the desire of deliver ing themselves from the power of the hierarchy; and from the mon- archial, aristocratical, and political system of the other continent; and to make tr-is truth bear with effect on the politics of the times,. Its tone is uncommonly bold and animated for that period. He calls on the people not only to defend, but to study and understand their rights and privileges; and urges earnestly, the necessity of diffusing general knowledge. In conclusion, he exclaims, "let thepulpit resound with the doctrines and sentiments of religious liberty. Let us hear the danger of thral dom to our consciences, from ignorance, extreme poverty and depen dence, in short, from civil and political slavery. Let us see delineated before us, the true map of man — let us hear the dignity of his nature, and the noble rank he holds among the works of God! that consenting to slavery is a sacrilegious breach of trust,- as offensive in the sight of God as it is derogatory from our own honor, or interest, or happiness; and that God Almighty has promulgated from heaven, liberty, peace, and good will to man. "Let the bar proclaim the laws, the rights, the generous plan of power delivered down from remote antiquity; inform the world of the mighty struggles and the numberless sacrifices made by our ancestors in the defence of freedom. Let it be known that British liberties are not fhe grants of princes or parliaments, but original rights, conditions of original contracts, coequal with prerogative, and coeval with govern ment. That many of our rights are inherent and essential, agreed on as maxims and established as preliminaries even before a parliament existed. Let them search for the foundation of British lawsa*d govern ment in the frame of human nature, in the constitution of the intel lectual and moral world, There let us see that truth, liberty^ justice, and benevolence, are its everlasting basis; and if these could be re- ¦H *moved, the superstructure is overthrown of course. "Let the collegesjoin their harmony in the same delightful concert.' Let every declamation turn upon the beauty of liberty and virtue* and the deformiiy, turpitude, and malignity- of slavery and vice. Let the public disputations become'researches into the grounds, nature, and , ends of government, and the means of preserving the goed and demol JOHN ADAMS. 477 isbing tbe evil. Let the dialogues and all the exercise become the instruments of impressing pn the tender mind, and of spreading and distributing far and wide the ideas of right, and the sensations of freedom." In 1766, Mr. Adams removed his residence to Boston, still continu ing his attendance on the neighboring circuits, and not unfrequently called to remote parts of the province. In 1770 occurred, as has already been noticed, the "Boston massa cre." Mr. Adams was solicited by the British officers and soldiers to undertake their defence, on the indictment found against them, for their share in that tragical scene. Tbis was a severe test of his professional firmness. He was well aware of the popular indignation against these prisoners, and he was at that time a representative of Boston in the general court, an office which depended entirely upon popular favor. But he knew that it was due to his profession, and to himself, to under take their defence, and to hazard the consequences. "Tbe trial was well managed. The captain was severed in his trial from the soldiers, who were tried first, and tbeir defence rested in part upon the orders, real or supposed, given by the officer to his men to fire. This was in a good measure successful. On tho trial pf captain Preston, no such or der to fire could be proved. The result was, as it should have been, an acquittal. It was a glorious thing that the council and jury had nerve sufficient to breast tbe torrent of public feeling. It showed Bri tain that she had not a mere mob to deal with, but resolute and deter mined men, who could restrain themselves. .Sue h men are dangerous to arbitrary power." The event proved, that as he judged well for his own reputation, so he judged well for the interest and permanent fame of his country. The same year he was elected one of the representatives in the general assembly, an honor to which the people would not have called him, had be lost their confidence and affection. In the year 1773, and 1774, he was chosen a counseller by the members ef the general court; but was rejected by governor Hutch inson, in the former of these years, and by governor Gage, in the latter In this latter year he was appointed a member of the continental congress, from Massachusetts. "This appointment was made at Sa lem, where the general court had been convened by governor Gage, in the last hour of the existence pf a house of representatives, under the provincial charter. While engaged in this important business, the governor having been informed of what was passing, sent his secreta ry, with a message, dissolving the general court. The secretary find- 61 478 JOHN ADAMS. ing the door locked, directed the messenger to go in, and inform the speaker that the secretary was at the door, with a message from the governor. The messenger returned, and informed the secretary that the orders of the house were that the doors should be kept fast; whereupon the secretary soon after read a proclamation, dissolving the general court, upon the stairs. Thus terminated, forever, the actual exercise of the political power of England in or over Massa chusetts." On the meeting of congress in Philadelphia, 1774, Mr. Adams apj peared and took his seat. To talents of the highest order, and the most commanding eloquence, he added an honest -devotion to the cause of his country, and a firmness of character, for which he was distin guished through life. Prior to that period he had, upon all occasions) stood forth openly in defence of the rights of his country, and in oppo sition to the injustice and encroachments of Great Britain. He boldly opposed them by his advice, his actions and his eloquence; and with other Worthies, succeeded in spreading, among the people a proper alarm for their liberties. Mr. Adams was placed upon the first and most important committees. During the first-year, addresses were prepared to the king, to the people of England} of Ireland, Canada, and Jamaica. The name of Mr. Adams is found upon almost all those important committees. His firmness and eloquence in debate, soon gave him a standing among the highest in that august body. The proceedings of this congress have already passed- in review. Among the members, & Variety of opinions seem to have prevailed, as to the probable issue of the contest, in which the country was engaged1. On this subject, Mr. Adams, a few years before his death, expressed himself, in a letter to a friend, as follows : "When congress had finished their business, as they thought, in the autumn of 1774, 1 had with Mr. Henry, before We took leave of each other, some familiar conversation, in which I expressed a full conviction that our resolves, declaration of rights, enumeration of wrongs, petitions, remonstrances, and addresses, associations, and non-importation agreements, however they might be viewed in America, and however necessary to cement the union of the colonies, would be put waste water in England. Mr. Henry said, tHey might make some impression among the people of England, but agreed with me, that they would be totally lost upon Ihe government. I had just received a short and hasty letter, written to me by major Joseph Hawley, of Northampton, containing a few broken hints, as he called them, ef what he thought was proper to be done, and concluding with these words, 'after'all,w6 muH fight? This letter I read to Mr. Hen- JOHN ADAMS. 479 ry, who listened with great attention, and as soon as I had pronounced the words, 'after all, we must fight,' he raised his head, and, with an energy and vehemence that I can never forget, broke out with, 'I am of that man's mind.' I put the letter into his hand, and when he had read it he returned it to me, with an equally solemn asseveration, that he agreed entirely in opinion with the writer. "The other delegates from Virginia returned to their state in full confidence that all our grievances would be redressed. The last words that Mr. Richard Henry Lee said to me, when we parted, were, we shall infallibly carry all our points. You will be completely relieved, all-the offensive acts will be repealed ; the army and fleet will be re called, and Britain will give up her foolish project." "Washington only was in doubt. He never spoke in public. In pri vate, he joined with those who advocated a non-exportation, as well as a non-importation agreement. With both, he thought we should pre vail ; without either, he thought it doubtful. Henry was clear in one opinion, Richard Henry Lee in an opposite opinion, and Washington doubted between the two. On the 15th day of June, the continental congress appointed general Washington commander-in-chief of the American armies. To Mr. Adams is ascribed the honor of having suggested and advocated the choice of this illustrious man. When first suggested by Mr. Adams, to a few of his confidential friends in congress, the , proposition was re ceived with a marked disapprobation. Washington, at this time was almost a stranger to them; and, besides, to elevate a man whp had never held a higher military rank than that of colonel, over officers of the highest grade- in the militia, and those too, already in the field. appeared not only irregular, but likely to produce much dissatisfaction among them and the people at large. To Mr. Adams, however, the greatest advantage appeared likely to result from the choice of Wash ington, whose character and peculiar fitness for the station he well un derstood. Samuel Adams, his distinguished colleague, coincided with him in these view's, and through their instrumentality this felicitous choice was effected. When a majority in congress had been secured, Mr. Adams introduced the subject of appointing a commander-in-chief of the armies, and having sketched the qualifications which should be found in the man to be elevated to so responsible a station, he conclu ded by nominating George Washington of Virginia to the office. To Washington, himself, nothing could have been more unexpected. Until that moment he was ignorant of the intended nemination. The proposal was seconded by Samuel Adams, and the following day it re ceived the unanimous approbation of congress. 480 JOHN ADAMS. When Mr. Adams was first made a member of the continental con gress, it was hinted lhat he, at that time, inclined to a separation of the colonies from England, and the establishment Of an independent go vernment. On his way to Philadelphia, he was warned, by several advisers, not to introduce a subject of so delicate a character, until the affairs of the country should wear a different aspect. Whether Mr. Adams needed this admonition or not, will not, in this place, be determined. But in 1776, the affairs of the colonies, it could no lon ger be, questioned, demanded at least the candid discussion of the sub ject. On the 6th of May, of that year, Mr. Adams offered, in com mittee of the whole, a resolution that the colonies should form govern ments independent of the crown. On the 10th of May, this resolu tion was adopted, in the following shape: "That it be recommended to all tbe colonies, which had not already established governments suited to the exigencies of their case, to adopt such governments as would, in the opinion of the representatives of the people, best conduce to the happiness and safety of their constituents in particular, and Americans in general." "Tbis significant vote was soon followed by the direct proposition, wliich Richard Henry Lee had the honor to submit to congress, by resolution, on the 7th day of June. The published journal does not expressly slate it, but there is no doubt that this resolution was in the same words, when originally submitted by Mr. Lee, as when finally passed. Having been discussed on Saturday the 8th, and Monday the 10th JjS June, this resolution was, on the last mentioned day, post- poneaTpr further consideration to the first day of July; and at the same time it was voted, that a committee be appointed to prepare a declaration, to the effect of the resolution. This committee was elected by ballot on the following day, and consisted of Taomas Jef ferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston." It is usual when committees are elected by ballot, that (heir mem bers are arranged in order, according to the number of votes which each has received. Mr. Jefferson, therefore, probably jecei ved the highest, and Mr. Adams the next highest number of votes. The dif ference is said to have been but a single vote. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, standing thus at the head of the com mittee, were requested by the other members, to act as a sub-com mittee to prepare the draft; and Mr. Jefferson drew iip the paper. The original draft, as brought by him from his study, and submitted to the other members of the committee, with interlineations in the hand wri. JOHN ADAMS. 481 ting of Dr. Franklin, and others in that of Mr. Adams, was in Mr. Jefferson's possession at the time of his death . The merit of this pa per is Mr. Jefferson's. Some changes were made in it, on the sugges tion of other members of the committee, and others by congress, while it was under discussion. But none of them altered the tone, the frame, the arrangement, or the general character of the instrument. As a composition, the declaration is Mr. Jefferson's. It is the produc tion of his mind, and tbe high honor of it belongs to him clearly and absolutely. "While Mr. Jefferson was the author of the declaration itself, Mr. Adams was its great supporter on the floor of congress. This was the unequivocal testimony of Mr. Jefferson. 'John Adams,' said he, on one occasion, 'was our Colussus on the floor; not graceful., not elegant, not always fluent in his public addresses, he yet came out with a pow er, both of thought and qf expression, that moved us from our seats;" and at another time he said, 'John Adams was the pillar of its support on the floor of congress; its ablest advocate and defender against the multifarious assaults, which were made against it.'" On the second day of July, the resolution of independence , was adopted, and on the fourth, the declaration itself was unanimously agreed to. Language can scarcely describe the transport of Mr. Ad ams at this time. He has best described them himself, in a letter written the day following, to his wife. "Yesterday," says he, "the greatest question was decided that was ever debated in America; and greater, perhaps, never was or will' be decided among men. A resolu tion was passed, without one dissenting colony, 'that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states.' The day is passed. The 4th of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. 1 am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devo tion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward, for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this declaration, and support and defend these states; yet through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth moro than all the means; and that posterity will triumph, al though you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not." About the time of the decleration of independence, occurred the 482 JOHN ADAMS. disastrous battle of Flatbush on Long Island. The victory thus gained by the British, was considered by lord Howe, as a favorable moment for proposing to congress an accommodation; and for this purpose, he requested an interview with some of the members. In the delibera tions of congress, Mr. Adams opposed this proposal, on the ground that no accommodation could thus be effected. A committee^ however, was appointed to wait on lord Howe, con sisting of himself, Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Rutledge. On being ap prised of their intended interview, lord Howe sent one of his principal officers as a hostage, but the commissioners taking him with them, fear lessly repaired to the British camp. On their arrival, tbey were con ducted through an army of twenty thousand men, drawn up for the purpose of sbow and impression. But the display was lost on the com missioners, who studiously avoided all signs of wonder or anxiety. As had been predicted by Mr. Adams, the interview terminated with out any beneficial result. On being introduced, lord Howe informed them that he could not treat with them as a committee of congress, but only as private gentleman of influence in the colonies; to which Mr. Adams replied, "you may view me in any light you please, sir, except that ef a British subject." During the remainder of the year 1776, and all 1777, Mr. Aaams was deeply engaged in the affairs of congress. He served as a mem ber of ninety different committees, and was chairman of twenty-five Committees. From his multiform and severe labors he was relieved in December by the advice and opinion of the ministers of the king of France. The unaccountable and dishonorable concession, in effect, made the count de Vergennes minister plenipotentiary for the United States. But the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Adams in Holland, had a most important bearing upon the proposed negotiations. By a laborious and striking exhibition ofthe situation and resources of the United States, , he succeeded in so influencing public opinion, is to obtain a loan of eight millions of guilders on reasonable terms. This loan, effected in the antumn of 1782, was soon followed by a treaty of amity and com merce with Holland, recognizing the United States as independent and sovereign states. The disposition towards peace, on the part of the English ministry, was wonderfully quickened by the favorable negotiation of this loan. During lord Shelburn's administration, the independence of the states was unconditionally acknowledged, and the first effectual steps were taken to put an end to the war. During the negotiations that followed, the disposition of France again evinced itself, to cut off the United States from a share of the JOHN ADAMS. 485 fisheries, and to transfer a portion of the American territory to Spain. The American commissioners, therefore, were not a little embarrassed: by their instructions from congress, to govern themselves by the opim ion and advice of the French minister. But, as Mr. Adams had, on a former occasion, found it necessary to depart from instructions of a similar import, the Other commissioners now joined with him, in the determination to secure the best interest of their, country, regardless of the interference of the French minister, and of the inconsiderate restrictions imposed on them by. congress. Accordingly, provisional articles were signed by them, on the 30lh of November, 1782; and this measure was followed by an advanta geous definite treaty in September, 1783. Mr5 Adams spent a partof the year 1784 in Holland, but returned eventually to Paris, on being placed at the head of a commission, with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefferson as coadjutors, to negotiate several com mercial treaties with different foreign nations. Near tbe commencement of the year 1785, Congress resolved to send a minister plenipotentiary to represent the United States at the court of St. James. To this responsible station, rendered peculiarly deli-' cate by the fact that the United States had so recently and reluctantly been acknowledged as an independent nation, Mr. Adams was ap pointed. It was doubtful in what manner and with what spirit an, American minister would be received by the British government. On- leaving America, Mr. Jay, the then secretary of state, among other instructions, used the following language : "the manner of your recep-1 tion at that court, and its temper, views, and dispositions respecting American objects, are matters concerning which particular informa tion might be no less useful than interesting. Your letters will, I am persuaded, remove all suspense on those points." In accordance with this direction, Mr. Adams subsequently for warded to Mr. Jay, the following interesting account of his presenta tion to the king : "During my interview with the marquis of Carmarthen, he told me it was customary for every foreign minister, at his first presenta tion to the king, to make his majesty some compliments conformable to the spirit of his credentials; and when Sir Clement Cottrel Dormer, the master of ceremonies, came to inform me that he should accompa ny me to the secretary of state, and to court, he said, that every for eign minister whom he had attended tp the queen, had always made an harangue to her majesty, and he undestood, though he had not been present, that they always harangued the king. On Tuesday 62 486 JOHN ADAMS. evening, the baron de Lynden (Dutch ambassador) called upon me- and said fie came from the baron deNolkin, (Swedish envoy,) and had been conversing upon the singular situation I was in, and they agreed in opinion that it was indispensable that I should make a speech, and that it should be as complimentary as possible. AH this was parallel to the advice lately given by the count de Vergennes to Mr. Jefferson. So that finding it was a custom established at both these great courts, that this court and the foreign ministers expected it, I thoughf I could not avpid it, although my first thought and inclination had been to de liver my credentials silently and retire. At one, on Wednesday the first of June, the master of ceremonies called at my house, and went with me to the secretary* of state's office, in Cleveland Row, where the marquis of Carmarthen received me, and introduced me to Mr. Frazier, his under secretary, who had been, as bis lordship said, un interruptedly in that office through all the changes in administration for thirty years, having first been appointed by the earl of Holderness. After a short conversation upon the subject of importing my effects from Holland and France, free of duty, which Mr. Frazier himself in troduced, lord Carmarthen invited me to go with him in his coach to court. When we arrived inthe antichamber, the osil-de-boeuf of St. James, the master of fhe ceremonies met me,, and attended me, while tbe secretary of state went to take the commands of the king. While I stood in this place, where it seems all ministers stand on such occa sions, always attended by the master of ceremonies, the room very full of courtiers, as well as the next room, which is the king's bed cham ber, you may well suppose, that I was the focus of all eyes. "I was relieved, however, from the embarrassment of it by the Swedish and Dutch ministers, who came to me and entertained me in a very [agreeable conversation during the whole time. Some other gentlemen whom I had seen before, came to make their compliments too, until the marquis of Carmarthen returned, and desired me to 50 with him to his majesty: I went with his lordship through the levee room into the king's closet: the door was shut, and I was left with his majesty and the secretary of state alone. I made the three reverences, one at the door, another about half way, and the third before the pre sence, according to the usage established at this and all the northern courts of Europe, and then addressed myself to his majesty in the fol lowing words : "Sir, the United States have appointed me their minister plenipo tentiary to your majesty, and have directed me to deliver to your ma- esty this letter, which contains the evidence ef it. It is in obedience JPHN ADAMS. 487 to their express commands, that I have the honpr to assure your ma jesty pf their unanimous disposition and desire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse between your majesty's subjects and their citizens, and their best wishes for your majesty's health and hap piness, and for that of your royal family. "The appointment of a minister from the United States to your majesty's court, will form an epoch in the history of England and America. 1 think myself more fortunate than all my fellow citizens, in having the distinguished honor to be the first to stand in your ma jesty's royal presence in a diplomatic character; and I shall esteem myself the happiest of men, if I can be instrumental in recommend ing my country more and more to your majesty's royal benevolence, and of restoring an entire esteem, confidence, and affection, or in bet ter words, 'the old good nature, and the old good humor,' between peo ple whp, though separated by an ocean, and under different govern ments, have the same language, a similar religion, and kindred blood. I beg your majesty's permission to add, that although I have some times before been entrusted by my country, it was never, in my whole life, in a manner so agreeable to myself.'" "The king listened to every word I said, with dignity, it is true, but with an apparent emotion. Whether it was the nature of the inter view, or whether it was my visible agitation, for I felt more than I did or could express, that touched him, I cannot say, but he was much affected, and answered me with more tremor than I had spoken with, and said : "Sir, the circumstances pf this audience are so extraordinary, the language you have now held is so extremely proper, and the feelings you have discovered so justly adapted to the occasion, that I must say, that 1 not only receive with pleasure the assurances of the friendly disposition of the people of the United States, but that 1 am very glad the choice has fallen upon you to be their minister. I wish you, sir, to believe, and that it may be understood in America, that I have done nothing in the late contest but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do, by the duty which I owed to my people. I will be very frank with you. I was the last to conform to the separation; but the separation having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always said, as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friend ship of the United States, as an independent power. The moment 'I see such sentiments and language as yours prevail, and a disposition to give this country the preference, that moment I shall say, let the circumstances of language, religion, and blood, have their nalural and full effect.' 488 JOHN ABAMS. "I dare not say that these were the king's precise words, and it ia even possible that I may have, in some particular, mistaken his mean ing; for although his pronunciation is as distinct as I ever heard, he hesitated sometimes between his periods, and between the member of the same period. He was, indeed, much affected, and I was not less so; and, therefore, I cannot be certain that I was so attentive, heard so clearly, and understood so perfectly, as to be confident of all his words or sense j this I do say, that the foregoing is his majesty's mean ing, as I then understood it, and his own words, as nearly as I can recollect." ' The year following, 1788, Mr. Adams requested permission to re sign his office, which, being granted, after an absence of between eight and nine years, he returned to his native country. The nett government was, at the time, about going into operation. In the au tumn of 1788, he was elected vice president of the United States, a situation which he filled with reputation for eight years. On the retirement of general Washington from the presidency, in ,1796, Mr, Adams was a candidate for that elevated station. At this time, two parties had been formed in the United States. At the head of one stood Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Adams, and at the head of the other stood Mr. Jefferson. After a close contest between these two parties, Mr- Adams was elected president, having received seventy- one of the electoral votes, and Mr. Jefferson sixty-eight. In March, 1797, these gentlemen entered upon their respective offices of presi dent and vice president of the Untited States. Of the administration of Mr. Adams we shall not, in this place, give a detailed account. ' Many circumstances conspired to render it unpopular. An unhappy dispute with France had arisen a little pre viously to his inauguration. In the management of this dispute, which had reference to aggressions by France upon American rights and cemmerce, the popularity of Mr. Adams was in no small degree af fected, although the measures which he recommended lor upholding the national character, were more moderate than congress, and a re spectable portion of the people, thought the exigencies of the case re quired. Other circumstances, also, conspired to diminish his popu larity. Restraints were imposed upon the press, and authority vested in the president to order aliens to depart out of the United States, when 'he should judge the peace and safety of the country required To these measures, acts were added for raising a standing army, and im posing a direct tax and internal duties. These, and other causes, combined to weaken the strength of the party to whom he owed his JOHN ADAMS. 489 elevation, and to prevent his re-election. He was succeeded by Mr. Jefferson, in 1801 On retiring from the presidency he, removed to his former residence at Quincy, where, in quiet, he spent the remainder of his days. In 1 805, he voted as elector of president and vice president ; and^ in the same year, at the advanced age of 85, he was a member of the con vention of Massachusetts, assembled to revise the constitution of that commonwealth. Mr. Adams retained the faculties of his mind, in remarkable per fection, to the end of his long life. His unabated love of reading and contemplation, added to an interesting ' circle of friendship and affec tion, were sources of felicity in declining years, which seldom fall to the lot of any one, "But," to use the language of a distinguished eulogist,* "he had other enjoyments. He saw around him that prosperity and general happi ness, which had been the object of his public cares and labors. No man ever beheld more clearly, and for a longer time, the great and beneficial effects of the services rendered by himself to his country. That liberty, which he so early defended, that independence of which he was so able an advocate and supporter, he saw, we trust, firmly and securely established. The population of the country thickened around him faster, and expended wider, than his own sanguine predic tions had anticipated; and the wealth, respectability, and power of the nation, sprang up to a magnitude, which it is quite impossible he could have expected to witness, in his day. He lived, also, to behold those principles of civil freedom, which had been developed, established, and practically applied in America, attract attention, command respect and awaken imitation, in other regions' of the globe; and well might and well did he exciaim, 'where will the consequences of the Ame rican revolution end!'" "If any thing yet remains'tofill this cup of happiness, let it be added that he lived to see a great and intelligent people bestow the highest honor in their gift, where he had bestowed his own kindest parental af fections, and lodged his fondest hopes. "At length the day approached when this eminent patriot was to be summoned to another world; and as if to render thai day forever me morable in the annals of American history, it was the day on which the illustrious Jefferson was himself, also to terminate his distinguished earthly career. That day was the fiftieth anniversary of the declara tion of independence. ?Webster. 490 THOMAS JEFFERSON. "Until within a few days previous, Mr. Adams had exhibited ne in dications of a rapid decline. The morning of the 4th of July, 1826, he was unable to rise from his bed. Neither to himself or his friends, however, was his dissolution supposed to be so near. He was asked to suggest a toast, appropriate to the celebration of the day. His mind seemed to glance back to the hour in which, fifty years before, he had voted for the declaration of independence, and with the spirit with which he then raised his hand, he now exclaimed, 'Independence for ever.' At four o'clock in the afternoon he expired. Mr. Jefferson had departed a few hours before him." We close this imperfect sketch of the life of this distinguished man in the language of one* who, from the relation in which he stood to the subject of this memoir, must have felt, more than any other-indi vidual, the impressiveness of the event. "They, (Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson,) departed cheered by the benediction of their country, to whom they left the inheritance of their fame, and the memory of their bright example. If weturn our thoughts to the condition of their coun try, in the contrast of the first and last day of that half century, how resplendent and sublime is the transition from gloom to glory! Then, glancing through the same lapse of time, in the condition of the indi viduals, we see the first day marked with the fulness and vigor "f youth, in the pledge of their lives," their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the cause of freedom and of mankind. And on the last, extended on the bed of death, with but sense and sensibility left to breathe a last as piration to heaven of blessings upon their country; may we not humbly hope, that to them, too, it was a pledge of transition from gloom to glory ; and that while their mortal vestments were sinking to the clod of the valley, their emancipated spirits were ascending to the besom of their God!" THOMAS JEFFERSON. Thomas Jefferson wasborn in Shad well, in Albemarle county, Vir ginia, on the second day of April, 1743, old style. Of the early incidents of his life, but little is known. He was enter ed, while a youth, a student in the college cf William and Mary, in ?President Adams' Message. THPMAS JEFFERSPN. 491 Williamsburgh; yet the precise standing which he occupied among his literary associates, is probably now lost. He doubtless, however, left the college with no inconsiderable reputation. He appears to have been imbued with an early love of letters and science, and to havecherished a strong disposition to the physical sciences especially; and to ancient classical literature, he is understood to have had a warm attachment, and never to have lost sight of them, in the midst of the busiest occupations. On leaving the college, he applied himself to the study of the law under the tuition of George Wythe. In the office of this distinguished man, he acquired lhat unrivalled neatness, system, and method in busi ness, which through all his future life, and in every office that he filled, gave him so much power and despatch. Under the direction of his dis tinguished preceptor, he became intimately acquainted with the whole round of the civil and common law. From the same distinguished exam ple he caught that untiring spirit of investigation, which never left a subject till he had searched it to the very foundation. In short, Mr. Wythe performed for him, as one of his eulogists remarks, what Jeremy Gridley did for his great rival, Mr. Adams ; he placed on his head the crown of legal preparation, and well did it become him. For his able legal preceptor, Mr. Jefferson always entertained the greatest respect and friendship. Indeed, the attachment of preceptor ahd pupil was mutual, and for a long series of years continued to ac quire strength and stability. At the close of his life, in 1806, it was found that Mr. Wythe had bequeathed his library and philosophical ap paratus to his pupil, as a testimony of the estimation ih which he was held by his early preceptor and aged friend. Mr. Jefferson was called to the bar in the year 1766. With the ad vantages which he had enjoyed with respect to legal preparation, it might naturally be expected that he would appear with distinguished credit in the practice of his profession. The standing which he occu pied at the bar, may be gathered from the following account, the pro duction ofthe biographer of Patrick Henry: "It has been thought that Mr, Jefferson made no figure at the bar; but the case was far otherwise. There are still extant, in his own fair and neat hand, in fhe manner of his master, a number of arguments, which were delivered by him at the bar, upon some of the most intricate questions of the law ; which if they should ever see the light, will vindicate his claim to the first honors of the profession. It is true, he was not distinguished in popular debate; why he was not so, has often been matter of surprise to those who have seen his eloquence on paper, and heard it in conversation. He had all ihe attributes of the mind, and the heart, and the soul, 492 THOMAS JEFFERSON. which are essential to eloquence of the highest order. The only defect was a physical one : he wanted volume and compass of voice, for a large deliberative assembly; and his voice from tbe excess of his sen sibility, instead of rising with his feelings and conceptions, sunk under their pressure, and became guttural and inarticulate. The conscious ness of this infirmity, repressed any attempt in a large body, in which he knew he must fail. But his voice was all sufficient for the purposes of judicial debate; and there is no reason to doubt that if the services of his country had not called him away so soon from his profession, his fame as a lawyer would new have stood upon the same distinguished 'ground, which he confessedly occupied as a statesman, an author, and a scholar." The year previous to Mr. Jefferson's admission to the bar, Mr. Hen ry introduced into the Virginia house of burgesses, then sitting at Williamsburgh, his celebrated resolutions against the stamp act. Mr. Jefferson was, at this time, present at the debate. "He was then," he says, "but a student, and stood in the door of communication, between the house and the lobby, where he heard the whole of this magnificent debate. The opposition to the last resolution was most vehement; the debate upon it,to use his own strong language, 'most bloody; but,' he adds, 'torrents of sublime, eloquence from Henry, backed by the solid reasoning of Johnson, prevailed; and the resolution was carried by a single vote. "I well remember," he continues, "the cry of 'trea son,' by the speaker, echoed from every part of the house, against Mr. Henry r I well remember his pause, and the admirable address with which he recovered himself, and baffled the charge thus vociferated."' He here alludes to that memorable exclamation of Mr. Henry, now became almost too familiar for quotation: "Cassar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third ('treason !' cried the speaker ; 'treason ! treason !' echoed the house ;) may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it." The talents of Mr. Jefferson, which were early well known, permit ted him not long to remain in a private station, or to pursue the ordina ry routine of his profession. A career of more extensive usefulness, and objects ef greater importance, were now presented to him. His- country demanded his services ; and at the early age of twenty-five, that is, in the year 1769, he entered the house of burgesses in Vir ginia, and then first inscribed his name as a champion of his country's- rights. At a former period, the attachment of the American colonies to England was like that of aiv affect ionnte child towards a venerable THOMAS JEFFERSON. 493 parent. In Virginia, this attachment was unusually strong. Various circumstances combined to render it so. Many of the families of that province were allied to distinguished families in England, and the sons of the former sought their education in the universities of the mother country. It was not singular, therefore, that a strong affection should exist, on the part of this colony, for the people in England, nor that the people of the colonies generally should have come to the sev erance of these ties with peculiar reluctance. Resistance, however, was at length forced upon them, by the rash course pursued by the British ministry. The rights of the colonies were invaded; their choicest privileges were taken away, and loudly, were the patriots of America called upon, by the sufferings of the country, to awake to a strong and effectual resistance. At this time, Mr. Jefferson commen ced his political career, and has himself given us, in few words, an outline of the reasons which powerfully impelled him to enter the lists, with other American patriots, against the parent country. "The colonies," says be, "n.ere taxed internally and externally; their essential interests sacrificed to individuals in Great Britain ; their legislatures suspended; charters annulled; trials by jurors taken away ; their persons subjected to transportation across tbe Atlantic, and to trial by foreign judicatories ; their supplications for redress thought beneath answer, themselves published as cowards in the coun cils of their mother country, and courts of Europe; armed troops sent among them, to enforce submission to these violences ; and actual hos tilities commenced against them. No alternative was presented, but resistance or unconditional submission. Between these there could be no hesitation. They closed in the appeal to inns." In the year -1773, Mr. Jefferson became a member af the first com mittee of correspondence, established by the provincial assemblies. We have already noticed the claim which Virginia and Massachusetts have respectively urged, to the honor of having first suggested this important measure in the revolution. Both, probably, in respect to this, are entitled to equal credit; but to whomsoever the honor belongs, that honor is, indeed, great, since this measure, more than most others contributed to that union of action and sentiment, which characterised tbe proceeding of the several colonies, and which was the foundation of their final triumph over an ancient and powerful kingdom In 1774, Mr. Jefferson published a "Summary View of the Rights ot British America," a valuable production among those intended to show the dangers which threatened the liberties of the country, and to encourage the people in their defence. This pamphlet was addrea- 63 494 THOMAS JEFFERSON. sed to the king, whom, in language respectful but bold, it reminded that America was settled by British freemen, whose rights had been violated ; upon whom the hand of tyranny was thus heavily lying, and from the sufferings which tbey were experiencing, they must be, and they would be free. The bold and independent language of this pamphlet gave great um brage to lord Dunmore, the royal governor of the province. Mr. Jef ferson on avowing himself the author of the pamphlet, was threatened with a prosecution for high treason, by the governor; a threat, which be probably would have carried into effect, could he have hoped that the vindictive measure would succeed. In the following year, 1775, Mr. Jefferson was selected by the Vir ginia legislature to answer lord North's famous "Conciliatory proposi tion,'" called, in the language of the day, his "Olive branch ;" but it was an olive branch that concealed a serpent; or, as the former president Adams observed, "it was an asp, in a basket of flowers." The task assigned bim, was performed by Mr^ Jefferson in a manner the most happy and -satisfactory. The reply was cool, and calm, and close — marked with uncommon energy and keen sagacity. Tbe document may be found in most of the histories of that period, and is mani festly one of the most nervous and manly productions of lhat day. It concluded with the following strong and independent language: These, my lord are our sentiments on this important subject, which we offer only as an individual part of the whole empire. Final de termination we leave to the general congress, now setting, before whom we shall lay the papers your lordship has communicated to us. For ourselves we have exhausted every mode of application, which our invention could suggest as proper and promising. . We have de cently remonstrated with parliament — they have added new injuries to the old; we have wearied our king with supplications — he has not deigned to answer us ; we have appealed to the native honor and jus tice of the British nation — their efforts in our favor have hitherto been ineffectual. What then remains to be done? That we commit our in juries to the even handed justice of that Being, who doeth no wrong, earnestly beseeching Him to illuminate the councils, and prosper the endeavors of those to whom America hath confided her hopes; that through their wise directions, we may again see re-united the blessings of liberty, prosperity and harmony with Great Britain." In the month of June, 1775, Mr. Jefferson appeared and took his seat in the continental congress, as a delegate from Virginia. In this enlightened assembly, he soon became conspicuous among the most THOMAS JEFFERSON. 495 distinguished for their ability and patriotism. He was appointed on various important committees, towards the discharge of whose duties he contributed his full share. The cause of liberty lay near his heart, nor did he hesitate to incur all necessary hazard in maintaining and defending it. Antecedently to the year 1776, a dissolution of the union with Great Britain had not been contemplated,, either by congress or the nation. During the spring of that year, however, the question of independence became ene pf deep and solemn reflection, among the American peo ple. It was perceived by many in all parte of tlie land, that the hope of reconciliation with the parent country was at an end. It was, in deed, an unequal contest, in which the colonies were engaged. It was a measure of unexampled boldness, which they were contemplating — a step, which, sheuld it not receive the smiles of a propitious Provi dence, would evidently involve them and their posterity in calamities, the full measure and duration of which no political prophet could fore- tel. But, then, it, was a measure rendered necessary, by the oppres sion which they were suffering. The "shadows, clouds, and dark ness," which rested on the future, did not deter them. The language which they adopted, and the feelings which they indulged, were the language and feelings of the patriotic Hawley, who said, "We must put to sea — Providence will bring us into port." It was fortunate for the cause of America, and for the cause of free dom, that there was a class of men at that day, who were adequate to (he high and mighty enterprise of surrendering the ties which bound the colonies. For this they were doubtless specially raised up by the God of heaven; for this they were prepared by the lofty energies of their minds, arid by that boldness and intrepidity of character, which perhaps, never so signally marked another generation of men. The measure thus determined upon was, at length, brought forward in the ccntinental congress. We have already noticed in several pre ceding sketches, the debate on this subject, and the important part which various individuals took in urging it forward.' It belongs to this place to notice, particularly the important services which Mr. Jefferson rendered in relation to it. A resolution had been presented by Richard Henry Lee to declare America free and independent. The debate upon this resolution was continued from the seventh to the tenth of June, when the further consideration of it was postponed until the first of July, and at the same time a committee cf five was appointed to prepare provisionally a draught of a declaration of independence. At the head of this committee was placed Thomas Jefferson. He was 496 THOMAS JEFFERSON. at this time but thirty-two years pf age, and was probably the youngest member of the committee, and one of the youngest men in the house, for he had only served part of the former session. Mr. Jefferson being chairman of this committee, the important duty of preparing the draught of the document was assigned to him. It was a task of no ordinary magnitude, and demanded the exercise of no common judgment and foresight. By tbe act itself, a nation was to stand or fall. Nay, in its effects, it was to exercise a powerful influ ence upon other nations on the globe, and might extend forward to the end of time. To frame a document, which should precisely meet the exigencies of the case — which should set forth the causes of complaint, according to truth — which should abide the scrutiny of enemies at home and abroad — which should stand the testof time, especially of a day which would come, when the high- wrought excitement, then existing, would have subsided — this was no ordinary task. . Indeed, there were few minds, even at that day, which would have felt adequate to the undertaking. From his study, Mr. Jefferson at length presented to his colleagues the original draught. A few changes only in the document were sug gested by two of them, Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams. The whole merit ofthe paper was Mr. Jefferson's. On being reported to congress, it underwent a few other slight alterations; none of which, however, altered the tone, the frame, the arrangement, or the general character of the instrument. "It has sometimes been said," observes an eloquent writer, "as if it were a derogation from the merits of this paper, that it contains no thing new; that it only states grounds of proceedings, and presses to pics of argument, which had often been stated and pressed before. But it was not the object of the declaration to produce any thing new. It was not to invent reasons for independence, but to state those which governed the congress. For great and sufficient reasons it was pro posed to declare independence; and the proper business of the paper to be drawn, was, to set forth those causes, and justify the authors of the measure, in any event or fortune to the country and to posterity. The cause of American independence, moreover, was now to be pre sented to the world in such a manner, if it might so be, as to engage its sympathy, to command its respect, to attract its admiration ; and in an assembly of most able and distinguished men, Thomas Jefferson had the high honor of being the selected advocate of this cause. To say that he performed his great work well, would be doing him injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admirably well, would be inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say, that he so discharged the duty THPMAB JEFFERSON, 497 assigned him, that all Americans may well rejoice that the work of drawing the little deed of their liberties devolved on his hands." In 1778, Mr. Jefferson was appointed by congress, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane, a commissioner to France, for the purpose of forming a .treaty of alliance and commerce with that na tion. Iu consequence, however, of ill health, and impressed with the conviction that he could be of greater service tc his country, and espe cially to his state, by continuing at homo, he declined accepting the office, and Arthur Lee was appcinted in his place. Between 1777 and 1779, Mr. Jefferson was employed, conjointly with George Wythe and Edmund Pendleton, on a commission for revi sing the laws of Virginia. This was an arduous service, requiring no less than one hundred and twenty-six bills, which were drawn by these gentlemen, and which for simplicity and perspicuity have seldom been excelled. In respect to Mr. Jefferson, it should be noticed, that, besides the laborious share which he took in revising the laws of the state, to him belongs the honor of having first proposed the important laws in the Virginia code, forbidding thpjmportation of slaves; converting es tates tail into fees simple;' annulling the rights of primogeniture; es tablishing schools for general education, and confirming the rights of freedom in religious opinion, with several others. In 1779, Patrick Henry, who was the first republican governor, un der the renovated constitution, and the successor of the earl of Dun more , having served his appointed term, retired from that office, upon which Mr. Jefferson was chosen to succeed him. To this office he was re-elected the following year, and continued in office until June, 1781. The administration of Mr. Jefferson, as governor of Virginia, du ring the above term, was arduous and difficult. The revolutionary struggle was progressing, and the southern states were particularly the theatre of hostile operations. At three several times, during his ma gistracy, the state of Virginia was invaded by the enemy; the first time in the spring of 1780, by the ferocious general Tarlton, whose military movements were characterised by unusual barbarity, and who was followed in his invasion, by the main army, under lord Cornwallis. While the eyes of all were directed te these military movements in the south, the state experienced a still more unexpected and disastrous attack, from a body of troops, under the guidaqce cf the infamous Ar nold, whom treachery had rendered more daring and more vindictive. In respect to preparations for hostilities within her own limits, the state of Virginia was sadly deficient; nor had the habits and pursuits 498 THOMAS JEFFER9PN. of Mr. Jefferson been of a kind which fitted him for military enter prise. Aware, however, of the necessity of energy and exertion, in this season of danger and general distress, he applied his mind, with alacrity and ardor, to meet the exigencies of Ihe case. Scarcely had Arnold left the coast, when Cornwallis entered.the state, on its south ern border. At this time the condition of Virginia was extremely distressing; she., was wholly unprepared; her troops were fighting in remote parts of the country; she had few military stores; and, to add 'to her distress, her finances were exhausted. On the approach of Ar nold in January, the general assembly had hastily adjourned, to meet again at Charlottesville, on the 24th of May. In the meantime, a most anxious part devolved upon the governor. He had few resources, and was obliged to .depend, in a great measure, upon his personal influence to obtain the munitions of war, and to raise and set in motion troops from different parts of the state. The vari ous expedients which he adopted were indicative of much sagacity and were attended by success highly important to the common cause. On the 24th of May, the legislature was to meet at Charlottesville. They were not formed for business, however, until the 28th. A few days following which, the term for which Mr. Jefferson had been elect ed expired, when he again found himself a private citizen. On leaving the chair of state, Mr. Jefferson retired to Monticello, when intelligence was received, two days after, that a body of troops under command of general Tarlton were rapidly hastening to Char lottesville, for the purpose of surprising and capturing the members of the assembly. They had only time, after the alarm was given, to ad journ to meet at Staunton, and to disperse, before the enemy entered the village. Another party had directed their course to Monticello to cap ture the ex-governor. Fortunately, an express hastened from Char lottesville, to convey intelligence to Mr. Jefferson of their approach. Scarcely had the family time to make arrangements, indispensable for their departure, and to effect their escape, before the enemy were seen ascending the hill, leading to the mansion house. Mr. Jefferson him self, mounting his horse, narrowly escaped, by taking a course through the woods. This flight of Mr. Jefferson, eminently proper, and upon which his safety depended, has unwarrantably excited in times gone by, the ridicule and censure of his enemies. Agreeably to their appointment, the legislature assembled at Staun ton on the 7th, soon after which, at the instigation of Mr. George Nich olas, an inquiry was moved into the conduct of Mr. Jefferson in re spect to remissness in the discharge of his duty, at the time ef Ar- THOMAS JEFFERSON. 499 nold's invasion. The ensuing session of the legislature was fixed upon for the investigation of the charges. At the arrival of the appointed time, Mr. Nicholas had become convinced that the charges were with out foundation, and this impression having generally obtained, no one appeared to bring forward the investigation. Upon this, Mr. Jeffer son, who had been returned a member of the assembly, rose in his place, and entered into a justification of his conduct. His statement was calm, lucid, and convincing. On concluding it, the house unani mously adopted tbe following resolution : "Resolved, That the sincere thanks of the general assembly bs given to our former governor, Thomas Jefferson, for his impartial, up right and attentive administration, whilst in office. The assembly wish, in the strongest manner, to declare the high opinion they enter tain of Mr. Jefferson's ability, rectitude, and integrity, as chief magis trate of this commonwealth; and mean, by thus publicly avowing their opinion, to obviate and to remove all unmerited censure." To this it may be added, that Mr. Nicholas, some time after, did Mr. Jefferson the justice-to acknowledge, in a public manner, the errone ous views wliich he had entertained, and to express his regret that more correct information had not been obtained, before tbe accusation had been brought forward. In the year 1781, Mr. Jefferson composed his "Notes on Virginia," a work which grew out of a number of questions, proposed to bim by M. De Marbois, tbe secretary of the French legation in the United States. It embraced a general view of the geography of Virginia, its natural productions, statistics, government, history, and laws. In 1787, Mr. Jefferson published the work under his own signature, lt at tracted, much attention in Europe, as well as in America ; dispelled many misconceptions respecting this continent, and gave its author a place among men distinguished for science. It is still admired, and will long be admired, for the happy simplicity of its style, and for the extent and variety of its information. In 1782, Mr. Jefferson received the appointment of minister pleni potentiary, to join commissioners already in Europe, to settle the con ditions of peace betweenthe United States.and Great Britain. Before his embarkation, however, intelligence was received, that the prelimi naries of peace had been signed. The necessity of his mission being removed, congress dispensed with his leaving America. ¦* In November, 1783, he again took his seat in the continental con gress; but in may following was appointed minister plenipotentiary to act abroad in the negotiations of commercial treaties, in conjunc- 500 THOMAS JEFFERSON. tion with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams. In the month of July, Mr. Jefferson sailed for France, and joined the other commissioners at Pa ris, in August. Although ample powers had been imparted to the commissioners, they were not as successful in forming commercial treaties as bad been expected. It was of great importance to the United States to effect a treaty ol this kind with Great Britain, and for this purpose Mr. Jeffer son and Mr. Adams proceeded to London. In tbis important object they failed, owing, probably, to the hostile feelings which the ministry indulged towards America, and to the wounded pride which still ran kled in their breasts; and, moreover, to a selfish policy which they had adopted in respect to their navigation system, by which they intended to increase their own navigation at the expense of other nations, and especially of the United States. 'The only treaties which the com missioners were at this time able to negotiate, were with Morocco and Prussia. In 1785, Mr. Jefferson was appointed to succeed Dr. Franklin as minister plenipotentiary to the court of Versailles. The duties of this station he continued to perform until October, 1789, when he obtained leave to retire, just on the eve of that tremendous revolution which has so much agitated the world in our* times. The discharge of Mr. Jefferson's diplomatic duties while abroad, "was marked by great ability, diligence, and patriotism; and while he resided at Paris, in one of the most interesting periods, his charac ter for intelligence, his love of knowledge, and of the society of learned men, distinguished him in the highest circles of the French capital. No court in Europe had, at that time, in Paris, a representative com manding or enjoying higher regard for political knowledge, or for gen eral attainment, than the minister of this then infant republic." During his residence in France, Mr. Jefferson found leisure to visit both Holland and Italy. In both countries he' was received with the respect and attention due to his official station, as tbe minister of a rising republic, and as a man of learning and science. In the year 1789, he returned to his native country. His talents and experience recommended him to president Washington for the first office in his gift. He was accordingly placed at the bead of the department of state, and immediately entered on the arduous duties of that important station. Soon after Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of this office, con gress directed him to prepare and report a plan for establishing a uni form system of currency, weights and measures. This was followed, THOMAS JEFFERSON. 501 at a subsequent day, by reports on the subject of tonnage duties pay able by France, and on the subject of the cod and whale fisheries. Each of these reports displayed the usual accuracy, information and intelligence of the writer. Towards the close of the year 1791, the relation of the United States to several countries abroad became embarrassing, and gave oc casion to Mr. Jefferson to exercise those talents of a diplomatic cha racter, with which be was pre-eminently endowed. "His correspon dence with the ministers ef other powers residing here, and his in structions to our own diplomatic agents abroad; are among our ablest state papers. A thorough knowledge of the laws and usages of na- tions, perfect acquaintance with the immediate subject before him, great felicity, and still greater facility, in writing, show themselves in whatever effort bis official situation called on him to make. It is be lieved by competent judges, that the diplomatic intercourse of the go vernment of tbe United .States, from the first meeting ofthe continen tal congress in 1774, to tbe present time, taken ^together, would not suffer, in respect to the talent with which it has been conducted, by comparison with any thing which other and plder states can produce; and to the attainment of this respectability and distinction, Mr. Jeffer son has contributed his full part." On the 16th of- December, 1794, Mr. Jefferson communicated his last official report to congress, on the nature and extent of the privi leges and restrictions on the commerce of the United States in for eign countries, and the measures which he deemed important to be adopted by the United States, for the improvement pf their. commerce and navigation. This report, which has ever been considered as one of primary im portance, gave rise to a Ipng and interesting discussion in the national legislature. In regard to the measures recommended in the report, a wide difference prevailed in congress, among the two great parties, into which that body had become obviously and permanently, divided. In deed, it may be said to have been this report, which finally separated the statesmen of the country into two great political parties which have existed almost to the present time. On the 31st of December, 1793, Mr. Jefferson tendered his resigna tion as secretary of state, and again retired- to private life. The inter val which elapsed between his resignation of the above office, and his. being summoned again to the councils of the nation, he employed in a manner most delightful to himself, viz: in the education of his family the management of his estate, and the pursuit of philosophical studies, 64 502 THOMAS JEFFERSON. to the latter of which, though long neglected, in his devotion to higher duties, he returned with renewed ardor, The attachment of a large proportion of his fellow-citizens, which Mr. Jefferson carried with him into his seclusion, did not allow him long to enjoy the pleasures of a private life, to which he appears to have been sincerely devoted. General Washington had for some time determined upon a relinquishment of the presidential chair, and in his farewell address, in tbe month of September, 1796, announced that in tention. This distinguished man, having thus withdrawn himself, the two political parties brought forward tbeir respective candidates, Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson. On counting the votes in February, 1797, in the presence of both bouses of congress, it was found that Mr. Ad- . ams was elected president, he having the highest number of votes, and Mr. Jefferson vice-president, upon which respective offices »hey entered on the following 4th of March. In the life of Mr. Adams, we had occasion to allude to the unsettled state of tbe country, and the general dissatisfaction with his adminis tration, which prevailed. During tbis period, however, Mr. Jefferson resided chiefly at Monticello, pursuing tbe peaceful and noiseless oc cupations of private life. The time at length approached for a new election of president. Mr. Jefferson was again proposed by the re publican party as a candidate for that office. The candidate of the federal party was Mr. Burr. On the eleventh of February, 1801, the votes were counted in the presence of both houses of congress, and the result declared by the vice-president to be, for Thomas Jefferson seventy-three; for Aaron Burr seventy-three; John Adams sixty-five; C. C. Pinckney sixty-four and John Jay one. The .vice-president then, in pursuance of the duty enjoined upon him, declared that Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr, having an equal number of votes, it remained for the house of representatives to deter mine the choice. Upon this, the two houses separated, "and the house of representatives returned to their chamber, where seats had been previously prepared for the members of the senate. A call of the members of the house, arranged according to states, was then made; upon which it appeared that every member was present, except gene ral Sumpter, who was unwell, and unable to attend. Mr. Nicholson, of Maryland, was also unwell, but attended, and had a bed prepared for him in one of the committee rooms, to which place the ballot box was carried to him, by the tellers, appointed on the part of the state. THOMAS JEFFERSON. 503 "The first ballpt was eight states fbr Mr. Jefferson, six for Mr. Burr and two divided; which result continued to be te same after balloting thirty-five times." Thus stood affairs, after a long and even distressing contest, when a member of the house, (gerieral Smith,) communicated to the house the following extract of a letter from Mr. Burr: "It is highly improbable that I shall have an equal number of votes with Mr. Jefferson: but if such should be the result, every man who knows me, ought to know that I would utterly disclaim all competition. Be assured that the fed eral party can entertain no wish for such an exchange. "As to my friends, they would dishonor my views, and insult my feelings, by a suspicion that I would submit to be instrumental in coun teracting the wishes and expectations of the United States ; and I now constitute you my proxy to declare these' sentiments, if the occasion shall require." ¦ < This avowal of the wishes of Mr. Burr, induced two federal mem bers to withdraw; in consequence of which, on the thirty-sixth ballot ing, Mr. Jefferson was elected president. Colonel Burr, by the pro vision pf the constitution, became, of course, vice-president. On the 4th of March, 1801, Mr. Jefferson, agreeably to the consti tution, took the oath of office, in the presence of both houses of con gress, on which occasion he delivered his inaugural address. In this address, after expressing his diffidence in his powers, satisfac torily to discharge the duties pf the high and responsible office assigned him, he proceeded to state the principles by which his administration would be governed. These, were "equal and exact justice to all men, of whatever state or persuasion, religious or political: peace, com merce and honest friendship with all nations, entangling alliances with none: the support of ihe state governments in all their rights, as the competent administration for our domestic ccncerns, and the surest bul works against anti-republican tendencies: the preservaticn pfthe general government in its whole constitutional vigor, as the sheet an chor of our peace at home, and safety abroad: a jealous care ef the right of election by the people, a mild and safe corrective, of abuses which are lopped by the sword of revolution, where peaceable reme dies are unprovided: absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the majority j the vital principle of republics, from which is no appeal but to force, the vital principle and immediate parent of despotisms : a well disciplined militia, our best reliance in peace, and for the first mo ments of war, till regulars may relieve them: the supremacy of the civil over the military authority: economy in the public expense, that 504 THOMAS JEFFERSON. labor may be lightly burthened : the honest payment of out debts, and sacred preservation of the public faith: encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce as its hand-maid : the diffusion of information, and arraignment of all abuses at the bar .of public reason: freedom of re ligion: freedom of the press: and freedom of person, under the pro tection of the habeas corpus: and trial by juries impartially select ed. These principles," added Mr. Jefferson, "should be the creed of our political faith; and should we wander from them in moments of error or of alarm, let us hasten to retrace our steps, and to regain the road which alone leads to peace, libertyiand safety.'" To enter into a minute detail ofthe administration of Mr. Jefferson, would neither comport with the duties of a biographer, nor with the limits which must necessarily be prescribed to the present sketch. At a future day, more distant by far than the present, when the remem brance cf political asperities shall have passed away, can exact justice be done to Mr. Jefferson, and his administration. That he was a dis tinguished man, distinguished as a statesman, none can deny. But as tbe measures of his administration were called in question, in respect to their policy^ and as the day of excitement has scarcely passed by, it is deemed more judicious to leave the subject to the research and deliberation of the future historian, than, in this place, to attempt to settle questions, about which there were, while he lived, and still may exist, an honest difference of opinion. On the meeting of congress in December, 1801, Mr. Jefferson, va rying from the practice'of the former presidents communicated a mes sage to congress, instead of delivering a speech in person. The change in this respect thus introduced was obviously so popular and accepta ble, that it 'has been adopted on every subsequent similar occasion. The principal acts which characterised- the first term of Mr. Jeffer son's career, were a removal from responsible and lucrative offices ofa great portion of those whose political opinions were opposed to his own; the abolition of the internal taixes; reorganization of the judi ciary; an extension of the laws relative to naturalization; the pur chase of Louisiana, and the establishment of commercial and friendly relations with various western tribes of Indians. On the occurrence of-'a new presidential election, in 1805, the ad ministration of Mr. Jefferson had been so acceptable, that he was re elected by a majority, not of eight votes, as in the former instance, but by one hundred and forty-eight. Inspired with new zeal by this additional proof of confidence which his fellow-citizens had given him, he took occasion, in his second inaugural address, to assert his deter- THPMAS JEFFERSON. 505 mination to abide by those principles upon which he had administered the government, and the approbation of which, on the part of the peo ple, he read in their re-election of him to the same exalted station. In concluding his inaugural address, he took occasion to observe: "1 do not fear that any motives of interest may lead me astray ; I am sensi ble of no passion which could seduce me knowingly from the path of justice; but the weakness of human nature, and the limits ef my own understanding, will produce errors of judgment sometimes injurious to your interests; I shall need, therefore, all the indulgence I have here tofore experienced; the want of it will certainly not lessen with in creasing years. I shall need, too, the favor of that Being in whose hands we are, who led our forefathers, as Israel of old, from their na tive-land, and planted them in a country flowing with all the necessa ries and comforts of life; who has covered our infancy with his provi dence, and our riper years with his wisdom and power." On the second election of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency, the viee- presidency was transferred from Mr. Burr fo George Clinton, of New- xerk. A merited odium has settled upon Mr. Burr, in consequence of his unprincipled duel with general Hamilton, in which the latter gen tleman had fallen a victim to murderous revenge. From this time, Mr. Burr sunk, as it was thought, into final' obscurity ; but his future conduct showed, that while unobserved by his fellow-citizens, he had been achieving a project, which, but for the sagacity and effective mea sures of Mr. Jefferson, might have led even to a dissolution of the union. In- the autumn of 1806, the movements of Mr. Burr^first attracted the notice of government. He had purchased and was building boats on the Ohio, and engaging men to descend that river His declared purpose was to form a settlement on the banks of the Washita, in Lou isiana ; but the character ofthe man, the nature of his preparations, and the incautious disclosures of his associates, led to the suspicion that hislrue object was either to gain possession of New-Orleans, and to erect into a separate government the country watered by the Missis sippi and its branches, or to invade,- from the territories of the United States, the rich Spanish province of Mexico. From the first moment of suspicion, he was closely watched by the agents of the government. At Natchez, while on his way to New-Orleans, he was cited to appear before the supreme court of the Mississippi territory. But he had so enveloped his projects in secresy, that sufficient evidence to convibt him could not be produced, and he was discharged. Hearing, however, that several persons, suspected of 506 THOMAS JEFFERSON. being his accomplices, had been arrested at New-Orleans and else where, he fled in disguise from Natchez, was apprehended on the Tom bigbee, and conveyed a prisoner to Richmond. Two indictments were found against him, one charging him with treason against the United States, the other with preparing and commencing an expedition against the dominions of Spain. In Augnst, 1807, he was tried upon those indictments before John Marshall, the chief justice of the United States . Full evidence of his guilt not being exhibited, he was acquitted by the jury. The people, however, believed him guilty; and by their desertion and contempt he was reduced to a condition of the most abject wretchedness. The ease with which his plans were defeated, demonstrated the strength of the government; and his fate will ever be an impressive warning to those who, in a free country, listen to the suggestions of criminal ambition. While these domestic troubles were, in a measure, agiiating the country, questions of still greater importance were engaging the at tention of .the government in respect to our foreign relations. War was at this -time waging between England and France. America, taking advantage of the belligerent state of these kingdoms, was ad vantageously employing herself, as a neutral power, in carrying from port to port the productions of France and her dependent kingdoms, and also to the ports of those kingdoms the manufactures of England. Great Britain, at this time, and indeed from the peace of 1783, had claimed a right to search for and seize, her seamen, even on board of neutral vessels while traversing the ocean. In the exercise of this pretended right, many unlawful seizures were made, against which Washington, Adams, and Jefferson , had successively remonstrated in vain. Added to this, the Americans were molested in the carrying trade, their vessels being seized by British cruizers while transporting to the continent the products of the French colonies, and condemned by the English courts as lawful prizes. ' In May,' 1806, were issued the British orders in council, by which several European ports, under the control of France, were declared to be in a state of blockade, although not invested with a British fleet, and American vessels, in attempting to enter those ports, were captured and condemned. As a measure retaliatory to the above orders in council, the French emperor issued a decree at Berlin, in 1806, declaring the British islands in a state of blockade. In consequence of these measures of the two belligerents, the commerce of the United States severely suffered, and their merchants were loud in their demands on the government for re dress and protectipn. THPMAS JEFFERSON. 507 In June, 1807, an act was committed which raised the indignation of the whole American people, and concentrated upon the British gov ernment the whole weight, of popular indignation. This was an at tack upon the frigate Chesapeake, just as she was leaving her port for a distant service, by order of a^ British admiral, in consequence of which three of her men were killed, and four taken away. This out rage occasioned an immediate proclamation on the part of Mr. Jeffer son, requiring all British armed vessels immediately to depart from the waters of the United States, and forbidding all such to enter. In structions were forwarded to the American minister at. the court of Great Britain, to demand satisfaction for the insult, and security against future aggression. ¦' Congress was summoned to meet, and de cide upon the further measures which should be adopted. In the meantime, the British government promptly disavpwed the act of the officer, by whom the above outrage had been committed, and offered reparation for the injuries dene, which some time after was car ried into effect. , ^ From this time, the conduct of the belligerents was such,1 in respect to each other, as. to bear oppressively upon the American nation, leav ing the government of the latter no other alternative, but abject sub mission, or decided retaliation. In respect to the latter course, two measures only could be adopted, a declaration of war, or a suspension of the commerce of the United States. The latter alternative was adopted, and on the twenty-second day of December, 1807, an act passed both houses of congress, laying a general embargo. In respect to the policy of the embargo, the most prominent feature in the administration of Mr. Jefferson, different opinions prevailed among the American people. By the administration it was acknowl edged to be only an experiment;, which while it showed the spirit of the nation, and operated with no inconsiderable severity upon the in terests of the belligerents, left the way open to negotiations, or, if ne cessary, to actual war. Before the result of that system of measures which had been recom mended by Mr. Jefferson was fully known, the period arrived when a new election to the presidency was to take place. As Mr. Jefferson had reached the age of sixty-five years, forty pf which had almost un interruptedly been devoted to the arduous duties of public life,he was desirous at the close of his then presidential term, of ending his politi cal career. Having formed this determination, he alluded to it in a message to congress, in the following language: "Availing myself of this, the 508 THOMAS JEFFERSON. last occasion which will occur of addressing the two houses of the legislature at their meeting, I cannot omit the expression of my sincere gratitude for the repeated proofs of confidence manifested to me by themselves, and their predecessors, since my call to tbe administration, and the many indulgences experienced at their hands. The same grateful acknowledgments are due to my fellow-citizens generally, whose support has been my great encouragement, under all embarrass ments. In tbe transaction of their business, I cannot have escaped error. It is incident to our imperfect nature. But I may say with truth, my errprshave been ef the understanding, npt pf intentien; and that the advancement of their rights and interests has been the constant motive of every measure. On these. considerations, I solicit their in dulgence. Looking forward with anxiety to their future destinies, I , . trust, that in their steady character, unshaken by difficulties, in their love of liberty, obedience to law, and support of public authorities, I see a sure guarantee of the permanence of our republic; and retiring from the charge of their affairs, I carry with me the consolation of a firm persuasion, that heaven has in store for our beloved country, long ages to come of prosperity and happiness." From the- time of his retirement from public life, in 1807, Mr. Jef- : ferson resided at Monticello, and lived as became a wise man. "Sur rounded by affectionate friends, his ardor in the pursuit of knowledge undiminished, with uncommon health, and unbroken spirits, he was able to enjoy largely the rational pleasures of life, and to partake in that public prosperity, which he had so much contributed to produce. His kindness and hospitality, the charm of his conversation, the ease of his manners, the extent of his acquirements, and especially the full store of revolutionary incidents which he possessed, and which he knew when and how to dispense, rendered his abode, in a high degree, attractive to his admiring countrymen, while his high public and scientific character drew towards bim every intelligent and. educated traveller from abroad." Although Mr. Jefferson had withdrawn from public life, he was still anxious to promote the objects of science, taste, and literature; and es pecially solicitous to see established a university in his native state. To this object he devoted several years of incessantand anxious atten tion, and by the enlightened liberality of the legislature of Virginia, and the co-operation of other able and zealous friends, he lived to see it accomplished. Of this institution, of which he was the father, he was elected the rector, and during the declining years of his life, devoted himself, with unceasing ardor, to its permanent prosperity. THOMAS JEFFERSON. 509 It has often been the lot of those whe have devoted themselves te the public service, to suffer in the- decline pf life from the hand of poverty. This was the lot of Mr. Jefferson. His patrimony was originally large, but was unavoidably neglected, in his attendance upon the duties of the high official stations which he had filled. Par tial efforts were made in his native state, and in other parts of the country, to relieve his embarrassments; but the precise extent of the measures adopted, in reference to this subject we have not the means of ascertaining. At length the day on which this illustrious man was to terminate his long and useful career, approached. That day, by the appointment of heaven, was to be the fourth of July, 1826. It was a day which, fifty years before, he had helped to make immortal; and at ten min utes before one o'clock, on that day — memorable, also, for the depar ture of his compatriot, Adams — Mr. Jefferson himself expired at Mon ticello. At this time he had reached the age of eighty-three years, two months and twenty-one days. In stature, he was six feet and two inches high. His person was erect and well formed, though spare. The color of his eyes was light, but they beamed with intelligence. r We shall not attempt minutely, to delineate the character of Mr. Jefferson;" this must be left to others, who. may possess greater facilities of doing him justice. It may be observed, however, that in his man ners he was simple and unaffected ; at the same time possessing no in considerable share of dignity. In disposition he was uncommonly liberal and benevolent. Iii seasons of danger and perplexity he exhibi ted no ordinary fortitude and strength of mind. His opinions were slowly formed, but yielding with great reluctance. Over his passions he possessed an uncommon control. "In his domestic habits, he was quite simple. He rose early, and through the whole day was unusually diligent in his application, either to business or study. He was ardently devoted to literature and science, with almost every branch of which he was well acquainted. Of his peculiar opinions on religious subjects, we are designedly silent. In respect to these the best and wisest of his countrymen have entertained very different sentiments. At a future day it will be easier to decide in respect te their true character and tendency. "In a private memcrandum found among some other obituary papers and relics of Mr. Jefferson, is a suggestion, in case a monument over him should ever be thougbt of, that a granite obelisk, of small dimen sions, should be erected with the follpwing inscriptipn: 65 510 ROGER SHERMAN. '"HERE WAS BURIED THOMAS JEFFERSON, Author of the Declaratien of Independence, Of the Statutes of Virginia, for Religious Freedom, And Father of the University of Virginia.". In regard to Mr. Jefferson's political character, it is well known that his contemporaries differed widely in their views. The differences still exists to a considerable extent, and probably it will be handed down to posterity. His true character will doubtless be more correctly estima ted, and better understood, in some future age, when that generation has passed off the stage of life. ROGER SHERMAN. In a free nation, where the pathway to the highest offices and the most honorable employments, is open to every aspirant, in which there iare no legal obstructions to the advancement of the poor more than; the rich, it is sometimes the fact, that individual enterprise, and perse-- vering industry, achieve for children of parents in humble life, and limited property, what the sons of the affluent,^ accommodated with every facility, but wanting enterprise and application, are never able' to attain. Instances have existed, and instances do now exist in the United States, in which this remark has been verified; and since the way is equally open to all, and the prize is placed in clear view beforg them, as a sure reward to all who reach the goal, it may be reasonably expected, lhat many more will hereafter have it verified, as a reward for their honorable exertions. The most distinguished and the most useful men, do not always lay the foundation of their fame, and honorable distinction in the classical halls and lecture rooms of an university. Probably there have been but few instances, in which the prece ding remarks have been more literally illustrated and verified, than in the one now under consideration. Roger Sherman's ancestor, his great grandfather, John Sherman, came to America, from Dedham, England, and settled at Watertown, Massachusetts, in the year 1635. William Sherman, the grandson of John, and the father of Roger, lived at Newtown, in Massachusetts, where he cultivated his small farm, and thus obtained support for his ROGER SHERMAN. 511 family by honest industry, until 1723, twp years after the birth ef his spn Roger. This took place in Newtown, in 1721, on the 19th day of April. In 1723, the family removed to Stoughton, in that state. There his father continued his residence until his death in 1741, when" the support of the family and the superintendence of its concerns, de- velved on Roger; who was the second son of his parents. His elder brother had previously removed to Connecticut, and settled in New- Milford in the county of Litchfield. Roger at the time of his father's decease, was but nineteen years old. He had enjoyed no other means for obtaining an education, than such as the country common schools at that time afforded ; and these were extremely limited, as is well known by all who are acquainted with the state of the country for a considera ble period subsequent to that date. His father's family was numerous; and beingin humble life and mod erate circumstances, Roger was apprenticed to a shoemaker. He continued to reside with his mother's family about three years af ter his father's decease, and was employed principally in cultivating the farm, and otherwise in providing for the bereaved family. About thai; time it was judged expedient to change their residence, and remove to a distance. The property which they owned in Newtown, was disposed of, and the family removed to New-Milford, in Connecticut, in 1743. Mr. Sherman made the journey on foot, carrying his tools with him, from Massachusetts to their new place of residence. There he con- menced business as a merchant, in company with his elder brother, who had established himself in that town some years before. Mr. Sherman early evinced an unusual thirst for knowledge. This led him to seize with avidity every opportunity to acquire it. The acquisition of such a mind, even with the disadvantages under which he labored, must have been comparatively easy, and his improvement was rapid. The variety and extent of his attainments, even at this early age, are almost incredible. He soon became known in the county of Litchfield, where he resided, as a man of more than ordina ry talents, and of unusual skill in the science of mathematics. In 1745, only two years after his removal into the above county, and at the age of twenty-four, he was appointed to the office ef county sur veyor. At this time it appears, also, that he had made no small ad vance in the science of astronomy. As early as 1748, he supplied the astronomical calculations for an almanac, published in the city of New- York, and continued this supply for several succeeding years. In 1749, he was married to Miss Elizabeth Hartwell, of Stoughton 512 ROGER SHERMAN. in Massachusetts. After her decease , 1760, he married Miss Rebecca Prescot, of Danvers, in the same state. By these wives he had fifteen children, seven by the former,and eight by the latter. In 1754, Mr. Sherman was admitted as an attorney to the bar. It is a trite remark, that great effects often proceed from small causes, and that not unfrequently, some apparently trivial occurrence, exercises a controlling influence over the whole after, life of an individual. Both these remarks are eminently verified in the history of Mr. Sherman. While yet a young man, and, it is believed, before he had relinquished his mechanical occupations, he had occasion to go to a neighboring • town to transact some business for himself. A short time previous to this, a neighbor of his, in settling the affairs of a person deceased, be came involved in a difficulty which required the assistance of legal Council. The neighbor stated the case to young Sherman, and au thorized him to seek the advice ofthe lawyer of the town to which he was going. As the subject was not without intricacj', Sherman committed the case to paper, and on his arrival in the town, proceeded with his manu script to the lawyer's office. In stating the case to the lawyer, he had' frequent occasion to recur to his manuscript. This was noticed by the lawyer, and, as it was necessary to present a petition in the case to some court, Sherman was requested to leave the paper, as an assis tance in framing the petition. The modesty of young Sherman would scarcely permit him to comply with this request. "The paper," he said, "was only a memorandum drawn by himself to assist his memo ry." He gave it, however, into the hands of the lawyer, who read it with surprise. He found it to contain a clear statement of the case, and remarked, that with some slight verbal alterations, it would be equal to any petition which he himself could draft. The conversation now passed to the situation and circumstances of young Sherman. The lawyer urged him seriously to think upon the profession of law. At this time, he was deeply involved in the care of his father's family, which, as before noticed, were left in a great measure destitute at his decease. The suggestion, however, appears not to have been lost upon him. A new direction was given to his thoughts. A stronger impulse was added to his energies. His leisure hours were devoted to the acquisition of legal knowledge, and in 1754, as already remarked, he entered upon a professional career, in Which few have attained to greater honor and distinction. From this date, Mr. Sherman soon became distinguished as a judi cious counsellor, and was rapidly promoted to offices of trust and re- ROGER SHERMAN. 513 sponsibility. The year following his admission to the bar, he was appointed a justice of the peace for New-Milford, which town he also represented the same year in the colonial assembly. In 1759, he was appointed judge of the court of common pleas for the county of Litchfield, an office which he filled with great reputation for the two following years. At the expiration of this time, that is in 1761, he became a resident of New-Haven, of which town he was soon after appointed a justice of the peace, and often represented it in the colonial assembly. To these offices was added, in 1765, that of judge of the court of common !" pleas. About the same time he was appointed treasurer of Yale col lege, wliich institution bestowed upon him the honorary degree of mas ter of arts. In 1766, he was elected by the freemen of the colony, a member of theupper bouse, in the general assembly of Connecticut. The mem bers of the upper house were called assistants. This body held their deliberations with closed doors. The precise rank, therefore, which Mr. Sherman held among his colleagues, or the services which he ren dered his country, cannot now be ascertained. Few men, however, were better fitted for a deliberative assembly. During the same year the confidence of his fellow-citizens was still further expressed, by his appointment to the offiee of judge of the superior court. The offices, thus conferred upon him, during the same year, were not then consid- - ered as incompatible. He continued a member of the upper house for nineteen years, until 1785, at which time the two offices which he held being considered as incompatible, he relinquished his seat at the council board, preferring his station as a judge. This latter office he continued to exercise until 17S9, when he resigned it, on being elected to congress under the federal constitution. At an early stage of the controversy between Great Britain and her American colonies, Mr. Sherman warmly espoused the cause of his country. This was to be expected of him. A man of so much inte grity and consistency of character, of such firmness and solidity, would not be likely to be wanting in the day of trial, lt was fortunate for America that she had some such men in her councils, to balance and keep in check the feverish spirits which, in their zeal, might have in jured, rather than benefitted the cause. Mr. Sherman was no enthusi ast, nor was he to be seduced from the path of duty by motives of worldly ambition, or love of applause. He early perceived, that the contest would have to be terminated by a resort to arms. Hence, he felt the paramount importance of union among the colonies. He felt 514 ROGER SHERMAN. the full force of the sentiment, "United we stand, divided we fall." From the justice or clemency of Great Britain, he expected nothing; nor, at an early day, could he perceive any rational ground to hope that the contest could be settled, but by the entire separation of Ame rican and British interests. He was, therefore, prepared to proceed, not rashly, but with deliberate firmness, and to resist, even unto blood, the unrighteous attempts of the British parliament to enthral and en slave the American colonies. Of the celebrated congress of 1774, Mr. Sherman was a conspicuous member. He was present at the opening of the session ; and con tinued uninterruptedly a member of that body for the long space of nineteen years, until his death in 1793. Of the important services which he rendered his country, during his congressional career, it is difficult and even-impossible to form an es timate. He served on various committees, whose deliberations often involved the highest interest of the country. During the continuance of the war of the revolution, the duties of committees were frequently arduous and fatiguing. No man adventured upon these duties with more courage : no one exercised a more indefatigable zeal than did Mr. Sherman. He investigated every subject with uncommon partic ularity, and formed his judgment with a comprehensive view of the whole. This, together with the well known integrity of his character, attracted universal confidence. He naturally became, therefore, one of the leading and most influential members e( congress, during the whole period of his holding a seat in that body. Of the congress of 1775, Mr. Sherman was again a member; but of this day of clouds and darkness when the storm which had long lowered, began to burst forth on every side, we can take no further notice than to mention, with gratitude and admiration, the firmness of those assembled sages who, with courage, breasted themselves to the defence of the liberties of their country, having counted the cost, and being prepared to surrender their rights only with their lives. In the congress of 1776, Mr. Sherman took a distinguished part. He assisted on committees appointed to give instructions for the mili tary operations of the army in Canada; to establish regulations and restrictions on the trade of the United States; to regulate the curren cy of the country; to furnish supplies for the army; to provide for the expenses of the government; to prepare articles of confederation between the several states, and to propose a plan of military opera- tions for the campaign of 1776. RPGER SIIBRMAN. 515 During this year, alsp, he received the most flattering testimony ef the high estimation in which he was held by congress, in being asspci- ' ated with Adams, Jefferson, Franklin and Livingston, in the responsi ble duty pf preparing the declaration cf independence. The repuiatipn of Mr. Sherman abroad, was cordially reciprocated in the state in which he resided. Few men were ever more highly esteemed in Connecticut. The people understood his worth. They respected him for his abilities, but still more for his unbending integri ty. During the war, he belonged to the governor's council of safety ; and from the year 1784 to his death, he held the mayoralty of the city of New-Haven. In 1783, he was appointed, with the honorable Richard Law, both of whom were at this time judges of the superiofi conrt, to revise the statutes of the state. This service rendered doubly onerous to the committee from their being instructed to digest all the statutes relating to the same subject into one, and to reduce the whole td alphabetical order, was performed with great ability. Many useless statutes were omitted ; others were altered to correspond to the great changes which had then recently taken place in the state of the coun try, and the whole reduced to comparative order and simplicity. Another expression of the public confidence awaited Mr. Sherman in 1787. Soon after the close of the war, theinefficacy of the old confederation between the states was apparent. The necessity of a federal constitution, by which the powers of the state governments and of the general government should be more nicely balanced, became every day more obvious. Accordingly,' in 1787, a general convention of the states, for forming a new constitution, was called, and Mr. Sher man, in connexion with the learned Mr. Ellsworth and Dr. Johnson, were appointed to attend it, on the part of Connecticut. In this as semblage of patriots, distinguished for their political wisdom, Mr.Sher- man was conspicuous ; and contributed, in no small degree, to the per- fecton of that constitution, under which the people of America havel for more than fifty years enjoyed as much civil liberty and political prosperity as is, probably, compatible with the lapsed condition of the human race. Many of the convention, who warmly advocated the adoption of the constitution,. were not, indeed, well pleased with every feature o*f that instrument. To this number Mr, Sherman belonged.! He was of the- opinion, however, as were others, that it was the best which, under existing circumstances, the convention could have framed. On his return to Connecticut, when the question respecting the adop- , tion of the constitution came before the convention of that state, its adoption according to the testimony of the late chief justice Ellsworth, 516 ROGER SHERMAN. was in no small degree, owing to the influence of Mr. Sherman. On that occasion, he appeared before the convention, and with great plain ness and perspicuity, entered into an explanation of the probable ope ration of the principles of the constitution. Under this new constitution, he was elected a representative to con gress, from the state of Connecticut. At the expiration of two years, a vacancy occurring in the senate, he was elevated to a seat-in that body, an office which he continued to hold, and the duties of which he continued to discarge with honor and reputation to himself, and with great usefulness to his country, until the 23d day of July, 1793, when fie was gathered to his fathers, in the seventy-third yearef his age. * In estimating the character of Mr. Sherman, we must dwell a mo ment upon his practical wisdom. This, in him, was a predominant trait. He possessed more than most men, an intimate acquaintance with human nature. He understood the springs of human action in a remarkable degree, and well knew in what manner to touch them, to produce a designed effect. This practical wisdom, another name for common sense, powerfully contributed to guide him to safe results, on all the great political questions in which he was concerned, and assist ed him to select the means which were best adapted to accomplish the best ends. With the habits and opinions, with the virtues and vices, the prejudices and weaknesses of his countrymen, he was also well ac quainted. Hence, he understood, better than many others, who were superior to him in the rapidity of their genius, what laws and princi ples they wduld bear, and what they would not bear, in government. Of the practical wisdom of Mr. Sherman, we might furnish many honorable testimonies and numerous illustrations. We must content ourselves, however, with recording a remark of president Jefferson, to the late Dr. Spring, of Newburyport. During the sitting of congress at Philadelphia, the latter gentleman, in company with Mr. Jefferson, visited the national hall. Mr. Jefferson pointed out to the doctor seve ral' of the members who were most conspicuous. At length, his eye rested upon Roger Sherman. "That," said he, pointing his finger, "is Mr. Sherman, of Connecticut, a man who never said a foolish thing in his life." Not less complimentary was the remark of Mr. Macon, the aged and distinguished senator, who has recently retired from pub lic life: "Roger Sherman had more common sense than any man I ever knew." Another distinguishing trait in the character of Roger Sherman, was his unbending integrity. No man, probably ever stood more aloof ROGER SHERMAN. 517 from the suspicion of a selfish bias, or of sinister motives. Ih both his public and private conduct, he was actuated by principle. The opin ion which appeared correct, he adopted, and the measure which ap peared the best, he pursued, apparently uninfluenced by passion, pre judice, er interest, lt was probably owing to this trait in his charac ter, that he enjoyed such extraordinary influence in those deliberative bodies of which he was a member. In his speech, he was slow and hesitating. He had few of ths graces of oratory; yet no man was heard with deeper attention. This attention arose from the solid con viction of the hearers, that he was an honest man. What he said, was indeed always applicable to the point, was clear, was weighty; arid, as the late president Dwight remarked, was generally new and important. Yet the weight of his observatipns, obviously sprung from the integrity ef the man. It was this trait in his character, which eli cited the observation of the distinguished Fisher Ames. "If I am ab sent," said he, "during the discussion of a subject, and consequently know not on which side to vote, I always look at Roger Sherman, fpr I am sure if I vote with him I shall vote right." ' To the above excellent traits in the character of Mr. Sherman, it may be added, that he was eminently a pious man. He was long a profes sor Pf religion, and one of its brightest ornaments. Nor was his reli gion that which appeared only on occasions. It was with him a prin ciple and.a habit. It appeared in the, closet, in the family, on the bench, and in the senate house. Few men had a bigher reverence for the bible; few men studied it with deeper attention; few were more in timately acquainted with the doctrines of the gospel, and the metaphy sical controversies of the day. On these subjects, he maintained an extended correspondence with some of the most, distinguished divines of that period, among whom were Dr. Edwards, Dr.' Hopkins, Dr. Trumbull, president Dickenson, and president Witherspoon, all of whom had a high opinion of him as a theologian, and derived much in struction from their correspondence with him. If the character' of a man's -religion is to be tested by the fruits it produces, the religion pf Mr. Sherman must be admitted to have been not of this world. He was naturally possessed of strong passions; but over these he at length obtained an extraordinary control. He became habitually calm, sedate, and self-possessed. The following instance of his self-possession is worthy of being recorded. Mr. Sherman was one of thbse, men whp are net ashamed to main tain the forms of religion in his family. One morning he called them together, as usual, to lead them in^prayer to God : the "pld family 6*o\ 518 SPGER SHERMAN. bible" was brought out, and laid on the table.- Mr. Sherman look his seat, and beside him placed one of his children, a small child, a child of his old age; the rest of the family were seated round the room ; several of these were now grown up; Besides these, some of the tu tors of the college, and it is believed, some of the students, were board ers in the family, and were present at the time alluded to. His aged, and now superanuated mother, occupied a corner of the room, opposite to the place where the distinguished judge of Connecticut sat. At length he opened the bible, and began to read. The child which was seated beside him, made some little disturbance, upon which Mr. Sher man paused, and told it to be still. Again he proceeded, but again he paused, to reprimand the little offender, whose playful disposition would scarcely permit it to be still. At this time, he gently tapped its ear, the blow, if it might be called a blow, caught the attention of his aged mother, who now with some effort rose from her seat, and tottered across the room. At length, she reached the chair of Mr. Sherman, and in a moment most unexpected to him, she gave him a blow on the ¦ ear, with all the power-she could summon. "There" said she, "you strike your child, and 1 loill strike mine." For a moment, the blood was seen rushing to the face of Mr. Sher man; but it was only for a moment, when all was as mild and calm as usual. He paused — he raised his spectacles — he cast his eye upon his mother— again it fell upon the book, from which he had been read ing. Perhaps he remembered the injunction, "honor thy mother," and he did honor her. Net a word escaped him ; but again he calmly pursued the service, and soon after sought in prayer ability to set an example before his household, which should be worthy their imita tion. Such self-possession is rare. Such a victory was worth more than the proudest victory ever achieved in the field of battle. We have room only to add the inscription, which is recorded upon the tablet which covers the tomb pf this truly excellent man : In memory of THE HON. ROGER SHERMAN, ESQ. Mayer pf the city of New-Haven, and Senator of the United States. He was born at Newton, in Massachusetts, April 19th, 1721, And died in New-Haven, July 23d, A- D. 1793, aged LXXII. b, CHARLES CARROLL. 519 Possessed ef a strong, clear, penetrating mind', and singular perseverance, he became the self-taught scholar, eminent for jurisprudence and policy. He was nineteen years an assistant, and twenty-three years a judge of the superior court, in high reputation. He was a Delegate in the first Congress-, v signed the glorious act of Independence, and many years displayed superior talents and ability in the national legislature. He was a member of the general convention, approved the federal constitution , ' and served his country with fidelity and honor, -in the House of Representatives, and in the Senate of the United States.' » He was a man of improved integrity ; a cool, discerning Judge ; a prudentj sagacious Politician ; a true,, faithful, and firm Patriot. He ever adorned the profession of Christianity which he made in youth ;- and distinguished through life for public usefulness, died in the prospect of a blessed immortality. CHARLES CARROLL OF CARROLLTON. This gentleman, «at the present time very highly distinguished throughout the American republic on many accounts, and not the least, as being the only surviving signer of the declaration of American in dependence, is descended from Irish ancestry. His grandfather, Dan iel Carroll, a native of Littamourna, in Ireland, was a clerk in En gland, in the;offic6 of lord Powis, in the reign of James II. ; but, he left England and emigrated to America in the latter part of the se venteenth century. He came tb*Mary!and, under the patronage ef 520 CHARLES CARROLL. lord Baltimore, the principal patentee or proprietor of that colony, and was appointed as his agent, to receive his rents, and also as judge and register of the land office. Charles Carroll, the son of Daniel, and the father of Charles, of Carroll ton, was born in 1702; and after spending 'a long and active life, he died at the age of eighty years. His son Charles, the subject of this notice, now universally called Charles Carroll of Carrollton, was born on the 27th pf September, at Annapolis, Maryland, in the year 1737. His father took'him when only eight years old lo France, and placed bim in an English Jesuit's college at St. Omer's, to be edu cated. After remaining there six years, he went to Rheiras, to a college of French Jesuits, to pursue bis studies in that seminary. There he continued but ene year, and then was removed to the college of Louis Le Grand. Here he remained two years, and then went to Bourges'to study law; aljd at the termination of a year's residence there, he re moved to Paris. Here he continued till 1757; and then left France, and went to London, to study law in England. For this purpose he took apartments in the inner temple. From England he returned to the place of bis nativity in 1765, just about the time when the British ministry began to promulgate their system of measures, which event ually led to the indepence of the American colonies. A few years following the repeal of the stamp act, the violent excite ment occasioned by that measure, in a degree subsided throughout all the colonies. In this calmer state of things the people of Maryland participated. But about the year 1771, great commotion was excited in that province, in consequence of the. arbitrary conduct of governor Eden and his council, touching the fees of the civil officers of the colo nial government. These fees had become, in the estimation of the popular branch of the assembly, from the manner in which they were charged, exceedingly exorbitant. To correct the abuses growing.out of the indefinite character of the law, a new law was framed ; and af ter being passed by the lower house, was sent to the upper house for their concurrence. This, however, was refused: and' the assembly was prorogued, without coming to any agreement on the subject. Shortly after, governor Eden issued his proclamation, the ostensible ob ject of which was to prevent oppressions and exertions on the part of the officers, in exacting unreasonable and excessive fees. The procla mation was in reality, however, highly exceptionable in the view of the people, as it affected to settle the point, which was the prerogative only of the people. The fees in question were considered in the light of a tax, the power to lay which the pepple justly claimed to themselves. CHARLES CARROLL. 521 The controversy which grew out of this arbitrary exercise of pow-. er on the part of governor Eden, became exceedingly spirited. It in volved the great principles ef the revolution. Several writers of dis tinguished character enlisted themselves on different sides of the question. Among these writers, no one was more conspicuous than Mr. Carroll. The natural consequence of his firmness in defence of the rights of the people was, that great confidence was reposed in him on their part, and he was looked up to as one who was eminently quali fied to lead in the great straggle which was approaching between the colonies and the parent country. From what has been observed respecting Mr. Carroll, it may justly be inferred that his mind was made up at an early day, as to the course duty required him to take in respect to this coming storm. An anec dote is related of him, which will illustrate his influence with the peo ple of Maryland; By a resolution of the delegates of Maryland, on the 22d day of June, 1774, the importation of tea was prohibited. Sometime after, however, a vessel arrived at Annapolis, having a quantity of tbis article on board. Tbis becoming known, the people assembled in great multitudes, to take effectual measures to prevent its being landed. At length the excitement became so high, that the personal safety of the captain ef 4 the vessel became endangered. In this state of things, tbe friends of the captain made application to Mr. Carroll, to interpose bis influence with the peppfe in his behalf. The public indignation was too great to be easily allayed. This Mr. Car roll perceived, aud advised the captain and his friends, as the only pro bable means ef safety to himself, to set fire to the vessel, and burn it to the water's edge. This alternative was indeed severe; but, as it was obviously a measure of necessity, the vessel was drawn out, her sails were set, her Golors unfurled, in which attitude the fire was ap plied to her, and in the presence of an immense concourse of-people, she was consumed. This atonement was deemed satisfactory, and the captain was no farther molested. In the early part of 1776, Mr. Carroll, whose distinguished exer tions in Maryland had become extensively known, was appointed by congress, in connexion with Dr. -Franklin and Samuel Chase, on a commission to proceed to Canada, to persuade the people of that pro vince to relinquish their allegiance to the crown of England, and unite with the Americans in their struggle for independence.- In the discharge of their duties, the commissioners met with unex pected difficulties. The defeat and death of Montgomery, together with the compulsion which the American troops found it necessary 522 CHARLES CARROLL. .to exercise, in obtaining the means of support in that province, con spired to diminish the ardor of the Canadians in favor of a union with the colonies, and even, at length, to render them hostile to the measure. To conciliate their affections, and to bring ta a favorable result the object pf their mission, the commissioners employed their utmost ingenuity and influence. They issued their proclamations, in which they assured the people of the disposition of congress to reme dy .the temporary evils, which the inhabitants suffered in consequence of the presence of the American troops, so soon as it should be-in their power to provide specie, and clothing, and provisions. A strong tide, however, was setting against the American colonies, the strength of which wasmuoh increased by the Roman Catholic Priests, who, as a' body, had always been opposed to any connexion with the united colo nies. Despairing of accomplishing the wishes of congress, the com missioners at length abandoned the object, and returned to Philadel phia. The great object of independence was, at this time, undergoing a discussion in the hall of congress. It has been already noticed, that the Maryland delegation, in that body, had been instructed by their convention to refuse their assent to a declaration of independence. On returniug to Maryland, Mr. Carroll resumed his seat in the con vention, and with the advocates of a declaration ef independence, urged the withdrawal of the above instructions, and the granting of power to their delegates to unite in such a declaration. The friends of Ihe measure had at length the happiness, on the 28th of June, of procu ring a new set of instructions, which secured the vote of the impor tant province of Maryland in favor of the independence of America.' On the same day on which the great question was decided in con gress, in favor of adeclarationof independence, Mr. Carroll was elect ed a delegate that to body from Maryland, and accordingly took hisj seat on the eighteenth of the same month. Although not a member of congress at the £ime the question of a declaration of independence was settled, Mr. Carroll had the honor of greatly contributing to a measure so auspicious to the interests of his country, by assisting in procuring the withdrawal of the prohibiting instructions, and the adoption of a new set, by which the Maryland delegates found themselves authorized to vote for independence. He had the honor, also, of affixing his signature to the declaration on the second of August, at which time the members genOraly signed an. engrossed copy, which had been prepared for that -purpose. From the printed journals of congress, it would appear, that the declaration CHARLES CARROLL. 523 was signed pn the .fourth of July, the same day on which the final question was taken. This is an error. The declaration, as first pub lished, had only the name of Hancock affixed to it: and it was only on the nineteenth of J uly, that a resolution was adopted, directing the declaration to be engrossed on parchment, with a view to a general signature on the part of the members. The truth of tbis statement may be inferred from the following let ter, addressed by Mr. Secretary Adams to Mr. Carroll, on the twenty- fourth of June, 1S24: "Sir. "In pursuance of a joint resolution of the two houses of congress, a copy of which is hereto annexed, aad by direction of the president of the United States, I have the honor of transmitting to you two fac simile copies of the original declaration of independence, engros sed on parchment, conformably to a secret resolution of congress of nineteenth of July, 1776, to be signed by every member of congress, and accordingly signed on the second day of August of the same year. Of this document, unparalleled in the annals of mankind, the original deposited in tbis department, exhibits your name as one of the sub scribers. The rolls herewith transmitted, are copies as exact as the art of engraving can present, of the instrument itself, as well as of the signers to it. "While performing the duty thus assigned me, permit me to felicitate you, and the country, which is reaping the reward of your labors, as well that your hand was affixed to this record of glory, as that, after the lapse of near half a century, you survive to receive this tribute of reverence and gratitude, from your children, the present fathers ofthe land. "With every sentiment of veneration, I have the honor," &c. A signature to the declaration, was an important step for every in dividual member of congress. It exposed the signers of it lo the con fiscation of their estates', and the loss of life, should the British arms prove victorious. Few men. had, more at stake in respect to property than Mr. Carroll, he being considered the richest individual in the colo nies. But wealth was of secondary value in his estimation, in com parison with the rights and liberties of his country. When asked whether he would annex his name, he replied "most willingly," and seizing a pen, instantly subscribed "to this record of glory." "There go a few millions," said some one who watched the pen as it traced the name of "Charles Carroll, of Carrollton," on the parchment. Millions would indeed have gone, for his fortune was princely, had not success crowned the American arms, in the long fought contest. 524 CHARLES CARROLL. Mr. Carroll was continued a member ef cpngress until 1778 at which time he resigned his seat in that body, and devoted himself more particularly to the interests of his native state. He had served in her convention in 1776, in the latter part of which year he had as sisted in drafting her constitution. Soon after, the new constitution went into operation, and Mr. Carroll was chosen a member of the senate of Maryland. In 1781, he was re-elected to the same station, and in 1788, on the adoption of the federal constitution, was chosen to the senate of the United States. In 1791, Mr. Carroll relinquished his seat in the national senate, and was again called to the senate of his native state. This office he continued to hold until 1804, at which time the democratic party was successTul in electing their candidate, to the exclusion of this long tried and faithful patriot. At this time, Mr. Carroll took leave of public life, and sought in retirement the quiet enjoyment of his fami ly circle. Since the date of his retirement from public office, few incidents have occurred in the life of this worthy man which demand particular notice. Like a peaceful stream, his days have glided along, and have continued to be lengthened out, while the generation of illustrious men, with whom he acted on the memorable fourth of July, 1776, have all descended to the tomb. At the age of nearly ninety 'four years he alone survives. "He seems an aged oak, standing alone on the plain, which time has spared a little longer, after all its contemporaries fliave been levelled with the dust. Sole survivorof an assembly of as great men as the world has witnessed, in a transaction, one of the most important that history .re cords; what thoughts, what reflections, must at times fill his soul! If he dwells on the past, how touching its recollections; if he survey Ihe present, how happy, how joyous, how full of the fruition of hope, which his ardent patriotism indulged ; if he glance at the future, how must the prospect of his country's advancement almost bewilder his weakened conceptions. Fortunate, distinguished patriot! Interesting relic of the past!" To few men has it been permitted to number so many years — to none, to have filled them up niore honorably and usefully, than Charles Carroll. Happy in the recollection of the past — conscious of a life well spent, and possessing A peace above all earthly dignities-r A still and quiet conscience, DANIEL BOONE. 525 He may well hope to pass the remaining hours of the evening of . his life in tranquility ; and may be assured, that when called to follow his illustrious predecessors to the grave, liberty and intelligence, and patriotism and affection, will weep at his departure, while they will rejoice that his honor is placed where no accident can reach it, and no stain can tarnish it. DANIEL BOONE, The first settler of Kentucky. The merit of opppsing the hostile attacks pf men regardless pf every law of honor and humanity ; counteracting the treacherous machinations of barbarians, who conceive an advantage can never be unjustly gain ed; and bearing up against continual party skirmishes, and uninter rupted harassments, in a contest for the unenclosed and unfrequented plains of nature, evidently deserve commemoration. The general entrusted with the chief command of an army, who earns his fame by the capture of a troop, reduction of a town, province, or country, is stimulated by the fame, the natural consequence of his actions, and sees the speedy end of the contest; but the former expects no epic muse to sing his worthy actions; though his valor is equally tried, or rather teased, by the continual and petty insults of the disorganized and detached foe. To his courage he must add that persevering in tegrity which years of uninterrupted assaults cannot subdue. If per • sonal bravery, united with disinterested zeal for the gopd pf that com- munity, pf which he is a member, merit cur notice, Daniel Boone should not be passed ever in silence. Though not designed by fortune to display those talents which in an important campaign between the civilized powers of Europe, would have enrolled his name in the list of worthies; yet, fortunately for the cause of virtue and the just success of his fame, his labors are not consigned to pblivipn ; but unlike seme of those beauteous productions pf nature in the lonely theatre of his aotions, "born to waste their sweetness en the desert air," were by their author plucked from their native soil, and presented to his friends. Daniel Boene was bern, as we are infermed, near Bridgenerth, in Spmersetshire, (England,) about the year 1730. While he was young, his parents emigrated to America, and settled in North Carolina, 67 526 DANIEL BOONE. where he was bred to the profession of arms, and was very early re tained in the service of that country, cn the part ef the English govern ment. He passed "through all the inferior gradations to the post of colonel,in which capacity he 'distinguished himself as the most active, zealous, and useful of the priginal settlers of Kentucky. It was bis frequent combats with the Indians on that occasion, during the period of thirteen years, which render him the subject of this memoir. The particulars of his campaigns, if they deserve that name, will be read with more pleasure as left us by himself, where, though devoid of art, 'and the ornaments a qualified biographer might have furnished, there may be seen the stamp of unexaggerated authenticity, and lively feel ings of the patriot, citizen, parent and friend. "It was on the first of May, 1769, that I resigned my domestic hap piness, and left my family and peaceful habitation on the Yadkin river, in North Carolina, to wander through the wilderness of America, in quest of the country of Kentucky, in company with John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and William Cool. On tbe seventh, of June, after travelling through a mountainous wilder ness, in a western direction, we found ourselves on Red river, where John Finley had formerly been trading with the Indians ; and from the top of an eminence -saw with pleasure the beautiful level of Ken tucky. For some time we had experienced the most uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, made a shelter to defend us from the inclement season; and began to hunt and reconnoitre the country. We found abundance of wild beasts in-this vast forest. The buffaloes were more numerous than cattle on other settlements, browsing upon the leaves of the cane, or cropping the herbage of these extensive plains. We saw hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt springs were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of beasts of every American kind, we hunted with success until December. On the 22d of December, John Stuart and I had a pleasing ramble; but fortune changed the day at the close of it. We had passed through a great forest, in which stood myriads of trees, some gay with blossoms,- others rich with fruits. Nature had here a series of wonders and a fund of delights. Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully colored, elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavored ; and we were diverted with numberless ani mals presenting themselves perpetually to our view. In the decline of the day, near tlie Kentucky river, as we descended the brow of a small hill, a number of Indians rushed out of a thick cane-brake and made us prisoners. They plundered us, and kept us in confinement DANIEL BOONE. 527 seven days.. During this time we discovered ne uneasiness pr desire to escape, which made them less suspicious;, but in the dead of night, as we lay by a large fire in a thick cane-braker when sleep had locked up their senses, my situation not disposing me to rest, I gently awoke my companion. We seized this favorable opportunity and departed, directing our course towards our old camp ; but found it plundered^. and our companions dispersed and gone home. About this time my brother, Squire Boone, with another adventurer, who came to explore the country shortly after us, was wandering through the forest,, and accidently found our camp. Notwithstanding our unfortunate circum-r stances, and our dangerous situation, surrounded by hostile savages, pur meeting fortunately in the wilderness, gave us the most sensible satis faction. Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John Stuart, was killed by the savages; and the man that came with my brother returned home by himself. We were then in a dangerous, helpless situation, exposed daily to perils and deaths among the savages and wild beasts, not a white man in the country but ourselves. Thus, many hundred miles from our families, in the howling wilderness, we did not continue in a state of indolence, but hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to protect us from the winter storms. We met with no disturbance during the winter. On the first of May, 1770, my brother returned home by himself fer a new recruit of horses and ammunition, leaving me alone, without bread, salt or sugar, or even a horse or a dog. I passed a few days uncomfortably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on my account, would have exposed me to melancholy, if I had further indulged the thought. One day I undertook a tour through the country, when the diversity and beauties of nature I met with in this charming season, expelled every gloomy thought. Just at the close ofthe day, the gentle gales ceased ; a profound calm ensued ; not a breath shook the tremu lous leaf. 1 had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and looking round with astonishment and delight, beheld the ample plains and beauteous tracts below. On one hand, the famous Ohio, roll ing in silent dignity, and marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the moun tains lift their venerable blows and penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feast ed on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The shades of night soon overspread the hemisphere, and the earth seemed to grasp after the hovering mpisture. 528 DANIEL BOONE. My excursion had fatigued my body and amused my mind. I laid me down to sleep, and awoke not until the sun had chased away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few days explored a great part of the country, each day equally pleased as the first; after which I returned to my eld camp, which had not been disturbed in my absence. I did notconfinemy lodging to it, but often reposed in thick cane-brakes, to avpid the savages, who, I believe, often visited my camp, but fortu nately during my absence. No populous city, with all the varieties of ccmmerce and stately structures, could afford so much pleasure to my mind as the beauties pf nature I found in this country. Until the 27th of July, I spent the time in an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, when my brother, to my great felicity, met me, according to appointment, at our old camp. Soon after, we left the place, and proceeded to Cumberland river, reconnoitering that part of the coun try, and giving names to the different rivers. In March, 1771, 1 returned home to my family, being determined to bring them as soon as possible, at the risk of my life and fortune, to reside in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second paradise. On my re turn, I found my family in happy circumstances. I sold my farm at Yadkin, and what goods we could not carry with us; and on the 25th of September, 1773, we bade farewell to our friends, and proceeded on our jpurney tp Kentucky, in company with five more families, and forty men that joined us in Powell's valley, which is one hundred and fifty miles from the now settled parts of Kentucky; but this promising beginning was soon overcast with a cloud of adversity. On the 10th of October, the rear of our company was attacked by a number of In dians, who killed six and wounded one man. Of these, my eldest son was one that fell in the action. Though we repulsed the enemy, yet this unhappy affair scattered our cattle, brought us into extreme diffi culty, and so discouraged the, whole company, lhat we retreated forty miles to Clench River. We bad passed over two mountains, Powell's and Walden's, and were approaching Cumberland mountain when this adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains are in the wilderness, in passing from the old settlements in Virginia to Kentucky, are ranged in S. W. and N. E. direction, are of great length and breadth, and net far distant from each ether. Over them nature has formed passes, less difficult than might be expected from the view of such huge piles. The aspect ef these cliffs is se wild and horrid, that it is impossible to behold them without terror. Untilthe 6lhof June, 1774, I remained with my family on the Clench, when I and Michael Stener were selicited by governer Dunmpre, pf Virginia, to conduct a num- DANIEL BPPNE. 529 ber ef survey ers to the falls of Ohio. This was a tour of near eight hundred miles, and took us sixty-two days. On my return, governor Dunmore gave me the command of three garrisons, during the cam paign against the Shawanese. In March, 1775, at the solicitation of a number of gentlemen of North Carolina, 1 attended their treaty at Wataga with tbe Cherokee Indians, to purchase the lands on the south side of Kentucky river. After this I undertook to mark out a road in the best passage from the settlements, through the wilderness, to Kentucky., Having collected a number of enterprising men, well armed, I soon began this work. We proceeded until we came within fifteen miles of where Boonsborough now stands, where the Indians attacked us, and killed two, and wounded two more. This was the 20th of March, 1775. , Three days after, they attacked us again ; we had two killed and three wounded. After this we proceeded on to Kentucky river without opposition. On the first of April, we began to erect the fort of Boonsborough, at a salt lick, sixty yards from the ri ver, on the south side. On the 4th, they killed one of our men. On the 14th of June^ having finished the fort, I returned to my family on the Clench. Soon after I removed my family to this fort : we arrived safe; my wife and daughters being the first white women that stood on the banks of Kentucky river. December 24th, the Indians killed one man and wounded another, seeming determined to persecute us for erecting this fort. July 14th, 1776, two of colonel Colway's daugh ters, and one of mine, were taken prisoners near the fort. I im mediately pursued the Indians with onlyeighteen men. On the 16th, I overtook them, killed two of them, and recovered the girls. The Indians had divided themselves into several parties, and attacked on the same day, all our settlements and forts, doing a great deal of mis chief. The husbandman was shot dead in the field, and most of the cattle were destroyed. They continued their hostilities until the 15th of April, 1777, when a party of one hundred of them attacked Boons borough, and killed one man and wounded four. July 4th, they at tacked it again with two huudred men, and killed one of us and wounded two. They remained forty-eight hours, during which we killed seven of them. All the settlements were attacked at the same time. July 19th, colonel Logan's fort was besieged by two hundred Indians. They did much mischief: there were only fifteen men in the fort; they killed two, and wounded four of them. Indians' loss un known. July 25th, twenty-five men came from Carolina. ' About August 20th, colonel Bowman arrived with one hundred men from Virginia. Now we began to strengthen, and had skirmishes with Ihe 530 DANIEL BOONE. Indians almost every day. The savages now learned the superiority of the long-knife, as they called the Virginians, being out-generalled almost in every battle. Our affairs began to wear a new aspect; the enemy did not now venture upon war, but practised secret mischief. January 1st, 1778, 1 went with thirty men to the blue-licks, on Lick ing river, to make salt for the different garrisons. February 7th, hunt ing by myself to procure meat for Ihe company, I met a party of one hundred and two Indians, and two Frenchmen, marching against Boons borough. They pursued and took me. The next day I capitulated for my men, knowing they could not escape. They were twenty-se ven in number, three having gone home with salt. The Indians, accprding to the capitulation, used us generously. They carried us to Old Chillicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little Miami. On the 18th of February, we arrived there, after an uncomfortable jour ney, in very severe weather. On the 10th of March, I and ten of my men were conducted to Detroit. On the 30th, we arrived there, and were treated by governor Hamilton, the British commander at that post, with great humanity. The Indians had such an affection for me that they refused one hundred pounds sterling offered them by the go vernor, if they would leave me with the others, on purpose that he might send me home on my parole. Several English gentlemen there, sensible of my adverse fortune, and touched with sympathy, gene rously offered to supply my wants, which I .declined with many thanks, adding, that I never expected it would be in my power to recompense such unmerited generosity. On the 10th of April, they brought me towards Old Chillicothe, where we arrived on the 25th day of the same month. This was a long and fatiguing march through an ex ceeding fertile country, remarkable for fine springs and streams of water. At Chillicothe I spent my time as comfortably as I could ex pect; was adopted, according to their custom, into a family, where I became a son, and had a great share in the affections of my new pa rents, brothers, sisters, and friends. r I was exceedingly familiar and friendly with them, always appearing as cheerful and satined as possible, and they put great confidence in me. I often went a hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for my activity. At our shooting matches, I was careful not to exceed many of them in shooting; for no people are more envious than they are in this sport. I could observe in their countenances and gestures the greatest expres sions of joy when they exceeded me, and when the reverse happened, of envy. The Shawanese king took great notice of me, treated me with profound respect and entire friendship, and often intrusted me to DANIEL BOONE. 531 hunt at my liberty. I frequently returned wtlh the spoils of the woods, and as often presented some of. what I had taken to him, ex pressive of my duty to my sovereign. My food and lodging were in common with them; not so good, indeed, as I could desire, but neces sity made every thing acceptable. I now began to meditate an escape, but carefully avoided giving suspicion. Until the 1st of June, I con tinued at Old Chillicothe, and then was taken to the salt springs on the Scioto, and kept there ten days making salt. During this time I hunt ed with them and found the land, for a great extent about this river, to exceed the soil of Kentucky, if possible, and remarkably well watered. On >my return to Chillicothe, four hundred and fifty of the choicest In dian warriors were ready to march against Boonsborough, painted and armed in a dreadful manner. This alarmed me, and I determined to escape. On the 16th of June, before sunrise,,I went off secretly, and reached Boonsborough on the 20th, a journey of one hundred and six ty miles, during which I had one meal. I found our fortress in a bad state ; but we immediately repaired our flanks, gates, posterns, and formed double bastions, which -we completed in ten days. One of my fellow-prisoners escaped after me, and brought advice that on account of my flight the Indians had put off the expedition for three weeks. About August 1st, I set out with nineteen men to surprise Point Greek town, on Scioto. Within four miles we fell in with thirty Indians, going against Boonsborough. We fought, and the enemy gave way. We suffered no loss. The enemy had one killed and two wounded. We took three horses, and all their baggage. The Indians having eva cuated their town, and gone altogether against Boonsborough, we re turned, passed them on the 6th day, and on the 7th, arrived safe at Boonsborough. On the 8th, the Indian army, four hundred and forty- four in number, commanded by captain Dugnesne, and eleven other Frenchmen, and their own chiefs, came and summoned the fort, I requested two days consideratipn, which they granted. During this, we brought in, through the posterns, all the horses and other cattle we could collect. On the 9th, in the evening, 1 informed their cemmand- er that we were determined to defend the fort while a man was living. They then proposed a treaty, and said, if we sent out nine men to conclude it, they would withdraw. The treaty was held within sixty yards of the fort, and we suspected the savages. The articles were agreed to and signed; when the Indians told us it was their custom for two Indians to shake hands with every white man, as an evidence of friendship. We agreed to this also. They immedi ately grappled us to take us prisoners; but we cleared eurselves ef 532 , DANIEL BOONE. them, though surrounded by hundreds, and gained the fort safely, ex cept one that was wounded by»a heavy fire from their army. On this they began to undermine the fort, beginning at the water mark of Kentucky river, which is sixty yards from the fort. We discovered this by the water being made muddy with the clay, and countermined them by cutting a trench across their subterranean passage. The en emy discovering this by the clay we threw out of the fort, desisted. On the 20th of August, they, raised the siege. During this dreadful siege, we had two men killed and four wounded. We lost a number of cattle. We killed thirty-seven pf the enemy, and wounded a great number. We picked up one hundred and twenty-five pounds of their bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of the fort. Soon after this I went into the -settlement, and nothing worthy of notice passed for some time. In July, 1779, during my absence, colonel Bowman, with one hundred and sixty men, went against the Shawanese at Old Chil licothe. He arrived undiscovered; a battle ensued, which lasted till ten in the morning, when colonel Bowman retreated thirty miles. The Indians collected all their strength and pursued him, when ano ther engagement ensued for two hours, not to colonel Bowman's ad vantage. Colonel Harrod proposed to mount a number of horses and break the enemy's line, who at this time fought with remarkable fury. This desperate measure had a happy effect, and the savages fled on all sides. In these two battles we had nine men killed and one wounded The enemy's loss was uncertain, only two scalps being taken. June 22d, 1780, about six hundred Indians and Canadians, under colonel Bird, attacked Riddle's and Martin's stations, and the forts of Licking river, with six pieces of artillery :' they took all the inhabitants cap tive, and killed one man and two women, and loaded the others with the heavy baggage, and such as failed in the journey were toma hawked. The hostile disposition ofthe savages caused general Clark, the commandant of the Falls of Ohio, to march with his regiment and the armed force]of the country against Peccaway, the principal town of the Shawanese, on a branch of the Great Miami, which he finished with great success, took seventeen scalps, and burned the town to ash es, with the loss of seventeen men. About this time I returned to Kentucky with my family; for during my captivity, my wife, think ing me killed by the Indians, had transported my family and goods on horses through the wilderness, amidst many dangers, to her father's house in North Carolina. The history of my difficulties in going and returning is too long to be inserted here. On the 6th of October, 1780, soon after my settling again at Boonsborough, I went with my DANIEL BOONE. 533 brother to the Blue Licks; and on our return, he was shot by a party of Indians: they followed me by the scent of a dog, which I shot, and escaped. The severity of the winter caused great distress in Ken* tucky, the enemy during the summer having destroyed most of the corn. The inhabitants lived chiefly on buffaloe's flesh. In the spring, 1783, the Indians harassed us. In May, they killed one man at Ash- ton's station, and took a negro. Captain Ashton pursued them with twenty-five men ; and, in an engagement which lasted two hours, he was obliged to retreat, having eight killed and four mortally wounded; their brave commander fell in the action. August 10, two boys were carried off from major Hoy's station. Captain Holden pursued with seventeen men ; they were also defeated, and lost four and one wound-- ed. Our affairs became more and more-alarming. The savages in fested the country, killing men_at-every opportunity. In a field near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and running to scalp him, was him self shot from the fort, and fell dead upon his enemy. AH the Indian nations were now united against us. August 15, five hundred Indians and Canadians came against Briant's station, five miles from Lexing ton; they assaulted the fort, and killed all the cattle around it; but be ing repulsed, they retired the third day, having about thirty killed, their wounded uncertain. The garrison had four killed and three wounded. August 18, colonel Todd, colonel Trigg, major Harland, and myself, speedily collected one hundred and seventy-six men, well armed, and pursued the savages. They had marched beyond the Blue Licks to a remarkable bend of the main fork of Licking river, about forty-three miles from Lexington, where we overtook them on the 19th. The savages observing us, gave way; and we, ignorant of their num. bers, passed the river. When they saw eur proceedings, having great ly the advantage in situation, they formed their line of battle from one bend of the Licking to the other, about a mile from the Blue Licks, The battle was exceedingly fierce for about fifteen minutes, when we, being overpowered by numbers, were obliged to retreat with the Ipss of sixty-seven men, seven of whom were taken prisoners. The brave and much lamented colonels Todd and Trigg, major Harland, and my second son, were among the dead. We were afterwards told that the Indians, on numbering their dead, finding that they had four more killed than we, four of our people that they had taken were given up to their young warriors, to be put to death after their barbarous man ner. On our retreat, we were met by colonel Logan, who was hasten ing to join us with a number of well armed men : this powerful assist ance we wanted on the day of battle, The enemy said, one more fire 68 534 DANIEL BOONE. from us wpuld have made them give way. I cannet reflect upon this dreadful scene but sorrow fills my heart : a zeal for the defence of their country led these heroes to the scene of action, though with a few men, to attack a powerful army of experienced warriors. When we gave way, they pursued us with the utmost eagerness, and in every quarter spread destruction. The river was difficult to cross, and ma ny were killed in the flight; some just entering the river, some in the water, others after crossing, in ascending the cliffs. Some escaped on horseback, a few on foot; and being dispersed every where, a few heurs brought the melancholy news of this unfortunate battle to Lexington. Many widows were now made. The reader may guess what sorrow filled the hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding any thing I am able to describe. Being re-inforced, we returned to bury the dead, and found their bodies strewed every where, cut and mangled in a dreadful man ner. This mournful scene exhibited a horror almost unparralleled : some torn and eaten by wild beasts; those in the river eaten by fish; all in such a putrified condition, that no one could be distinguished from another. When general Clark, at the Falls of Ohio, heard of our disaster, he ordered an expedition to pursue the savages. We overtook them within two miles of their towns, and we should have obtained a great victory, had not some of them met us when about two hundred poles from their camp. The savages fled in the utmost disorder, and evacuated all their towns. We burned to ashes Old Chillicothe, Pec- caway, New Chillicothe, Wills town, and Chillicothe; entirely de stroyed their corn and other fruits, and spread desolation through their country. We took seven prisoners and five scalps, and lost only four men, two pf whom were accidentally killed by ourselves. This campaign damped the enemy, yet they made secret incursions. In October, a party attacked Crab Orchard an done of them, being a good way before the others, boldly entered a house in which were only a woman and her children, and a negro man. The savage used no violence but attempted to carry off the negro, who happily proved too strong for him, and threw him on the ground, and in the struggle the woman cut off his head with an axe whilst her little daughter shut the door. The savages instantly came up, and applied their toma hawks to the door, when the mother putting an old rusty gun-barrel through the crevice, the savages went off. From that time until the happy return of peace between the United States and Great Britain, the Indians did us no mischief. Soon after, the Indians desired peace. Two darling sons and a brother I have lost by savage hands, who have also taken forty valuable horses and an abundance of cattle. Many JOHN WITHEESPOPN. 535 dark and sleepless nights have I spent, separated from the cheerful se- ciety ef men, scorched by summer's sun, and pincbed by the winter's cold, an instrument ordained to settle the wilderness. But now the scene is changed; peace crowns the sylvan shade. DANIEL BOONE, Fayette county, Kentucky. JOHN WITHERSPOON. This venerable gentleman, who was eminently distinguished for his piety, learning, and a strong and powerful mind, as a divine, a presi dent of a seminary cf learning, and a statesman ; and whose name stands enrolled among those who signed the declaration of American independence, was born at Yester, a_parish in the vicinity of Edin burgh Scctland, enthe 5th day of February, 1722. He was lineal ly descended from the celebrated John Knox, the great and intrepid leader of the reformation in Scotland. His father was a respectable minister in the church of Scotland, settled in the parish of Yester; and was much respected and beloved by the people of his pastoral charge. He as might have been expected from such a father, bestow ed much care and watchful attention upon the early instruction of his son, to pre-occupy his infant mind with moral and religious impres sions, before it should be engrossed with those of an opposite charac ter. Being convinced that it is much easier, by beginning right, to im press the infant mind with right principles, as fast as it opens to re ceive them, and thus shut out wrong ones, than it is to eradicate the latter, after they have obtained admission through neglect. And he was not disappointed. It was his early wish that his son might be fit ted for the gospel ministry; and he was gratified in eventuilly reali zing the object of his wishes. For this care and wisdom of his father in choice of the object, for which he wished to educate his son, and the fidelity with which he attended to its accomplishment, doctor Wither spoon felt, and often expressed a pious gratitude towards his venera ble parent. At an early age he was placed at the public school in Haddington, where he soon was distinguished for his assiduous application to study, for his superior native powers of mind, and uncommon attainment in learning. Nor was he less distinguished for a discriminating power. 536 JOHN WITHERSPOON. and quickness of perception, which comprehended, whatever subject engaged his attention. With such native talents, thus faithfully im proved, he was prepared for an early transfer from the preparatory academic school to the higher seminary, where he was to finish his literary course; qualified to commence his professional studies. He was removed from Haddington school to the university of Edinburg, at fourteen years of age. There great credit was awarded him, for his diligence and attainments in the various branches of learning, taught in that eminent seat of science; and at an early stage of his theological studies, he gave indications of talents in sacred criticism, which characterised him in all his future life. He prosecuted his professional course in the theological hall at the university, and left it at twenty-one years of age, a licensed preacher of the gospel. Such was the esteem in which he was held in the place of his nati vity, that the people of his father's parish invited him to settle with them as an assistant minister with him, stipulating for the right to suc ceed him .in the charge after his fathers decease. But having re ceived another invitation from the west of Scotland, to settle ia the parish of Beith, he gave the latter his preference; and was ordained there, with the universal approbation of that congregation. In Beith he labored faithfully in the ministry several years, enjoying the es teem and affections of a grateful and attentive people. When the battle of Falkirk was fought, he with several others, had the curiosity to be present, that they might witness the contest. Al though they were near the scene of action, they took no part in the contest ; but, after the victory was decided in favor of the rebels, these persons paid rather a dear price for gratifying their curiosity. They were taken prisoners, and confined in the castle of Doune. Several of them effected an escape at a great risk of their lives. One lost his life in consequence of the attempt; but doctor Witherspoon seeing the disaster of his companion in the attempt, being the last of the num ber, concluded to remain till regularly liberated. After attending faithfully to the duties of his ministry at Beith for several years, he was transferred to the large manufacturing town of Paisley. He resided there, ministering to an affectionate people, and enjoying the respect and esteem of the surrounding country ; when an application was made to him to come to America, and take the presi dency of the college of New-Jersey. While he resided in Paisley he was invited to Dublin, in Ireland; to Dundee, in Scotland, and to Rot terdam, in Holland ; to take the pastoral charge of a large congrega tion in each of those places, besides the application from the board of JOHN WITHERSPOON. 537 directors of New-Jersey college. But he declined them all. To the latter he was invited in 1766, by an unanimous vote of the trustees of the institution, and was informed of it by Richard Stockton, Esq. who was then in London. The trustees addressed a letter to Mr. Stockton, requesting him to visit Paisley, and personally inform doctor Wither spoon of their request, and solicit his acceptance of the appointment. Little did either. of them anticipate at that time, that they would he- come colleague members of the American congress, and act together in declaring the independence of the American colonies, and setting their names, side by side, on the instrument by which that act was proclaimed io the world. Yet that event occurred in ten years from that date. Doctor Witherspoon declined this application for two sea sons. There were considerations respecting the then existing condi tion of the college, which decided him to give a negative reply to the application. But Mrs. Witherspoon felt an unwillingness to leave the land of her nativity,' and the residence of her connexions, and this strengthened and confirmed his decision at that time. Happily, how ever, both of these impediments in the way of his acceptance were removed, at a, subsequent and no very distant period. Despairing of obtaining him, the trustees, about two months previous to their being informed by Mr. Stockton, that the. obstacles to doctor Witherspoon's acceptance were removed, had made choice of doctor Samuel Blair; but they immediately re-elected doctor Witherspoon ; and doctor Blair, on being informed that doctor Witherspoon would now accept, immedi ately tendered his resignation. By that noble act of generosity and disinterestedness of doctor Blair, the trustees were relieved from the perpjexing embarrassment, and the services of doctor Witherspoon were secured to the seminary, to the great gratification of its friends and patrons. Doctor Witherspoon arrived at Princeton in August, 1768, accom panied by his family. On his arrival being announced, a special meet ing of the board of trustees was called, whichmeton the seventeenth day of that month and inaugurated him as president of Princeton college. For some time previous to his arrival, the reputation of that college, once justly high, had been on the wane. His entering on his office as president marked a new era in its prosperity. His reputation had been widely diffused before he left Scotland, and had given rise to high anticipations in this country. On his arrival and taking upon himself the charge of presiding over its interests, the effect in the country to re vive its prosperity, was almost immediately beneficial. The number of students who sought instruction in that college increased rapidly. 538 johs -witherspoos. He brought with him, and incorporated in the system of instruction, now revised, all tbe recent improvements that had taken place in the older seminaries of Great Britain, so far as was practicable in that comparatively feeble and infant institution. Indeed his acceptance of the presidency of Princeton college, conferred an important benefit on the cause of hterature and science in America. Immediately after he entered on the duties of his office, the party feuds and dissentions that bad existed in the board of trustees, by bis influence and prudence, speedily subsided. The funds of the college, which were in a low con dition, and still sinking, were in a short time augmented by the active exertions made use of in various parts of tbe country : and tbe province of New-Jersey, wliich had done nothing for the benefit of die institu tion previously to that time, was induced to lend some aid in promoting its prosperity. But his learning and his judicious and advantageous system of managing the establishment, were not among tbe greatest advantages resulting from the accession of Dr. Witherspoon to the presidency. Although the study of theology had occupied much of his time and attention, that he might be thoroughly furnished for a faithful discharge of the duties of his pastoral office, yet be was far from limiting bis reading to works on theology. Sensible that a knowledge of every valuable science would contribute and enlarge the sphere of his usefulness to mankind, he appbed himself to other branches of science, and became possessed of a knowledge of almost every subject embraced in the circle of the sciences. He was well informed respecting the grounds of the controversy between Great Britain and her American colonies; and early after his arrival in this country, became a decided advocate of the latter. Hence, when the college at Princeton was broken up by tbe incursions of the enemy, tbe citizens of New-Jersey turned their attention to him to represent them in the general congress. By an election to a seat in that council of the nation, he was called to exercise his talents on a new theatre, if here the variety of his learning and tha vigorous powers of his mind were so happily displayed as to gather fresh lustre to his already extended reputation. He was called by the citizens of New-Jersey, to assist them in framing a new constitution of government for that state, in 1776. And when he appeared in lhat body, and exhibited his knowledge of legislative science, those present who had made politics the object of their principal researches, were not a little surprised at the readiness and intelligence with which he investigated every subject which was discussed in that convention. JOHN WITHEESPOON. 539 He was chosen a delegate to the general congress, on the twenty- first of June, 1776, by the provincial congress of New-Jersey ; and he took his seat in that body, a few days before the fourth of July, the memorable birth day of the American nation. He had deliberated on the great questien which was then te be settled forever, in domestic retirement; and when he was introduced, to take a part in the discus sion of congress, on that important subject, he at once gave evidence of his preparation. Before his election, he had taken an active and decided part in the conventions, and revolutionary committees of New-Jersey; and had manifested his superior qualifications to conduct the interests of the state in a higher station. The maturity and decision of his judgment, on the great question of the independence of this nation, is shown in the laconic reply he gave to a remark made by a distinguished member of congress, "That the people were not ripe for a Declaration of Independence," Dr. Witherspoon observed, "In my judgment, sir, we are not only ripe, but rotting." Doctor Witherspoon was continued a representative of New-Jersey, in congress, during the years 1776, 1777, 1778, 1779, 1781 and 1782. He was so constantly attentive to his duties, that it was a very unusual fact thathe was absent from his seat, during the whole period of his appointment, for a single day. And he regarded the impor tance of sustaining his ministerial character in such a prominent point of view, that he never consented to substitute his clerical dress, for another more consonant with civil employment. This was done by some ministers who were also members of that body. But he con sidered it correct for himself, always to appear, wherever he might be, and however employed, in the insignia of his professional character, and strictly adhered to his views of propriety. It is proper in this place to remark, that he never, during his civil employments, lost sight of his ministerial duties, but embraced every opportunity that pre sented, for preaching the gospel to his fellow men. It is deemed needless to specify particularly the. various services, which he rendered as a member of congress. It is well known, that most of the important business transacted in that body, was submitted to special committees, to investigate, and report their views to the house. The superior intelligence of Dr. Witherspoon on all the great subjects to be decided by congress, presented him as a member pre-emi nently qualified to be placed on most committees of great responsi bility. His services were incessant and unremitted : and they were 540 JOHN WITHEKSPOON. also of immense advantage to the cause of the country's liberty and independence. He took a firm stand in opposition to the ruinous system of emitting a paper currency, after its excess had caused a considerable deprecia tion in its value. In communicating his views on that subject, which he maintained consistently to the end, he astonished his contemporaries by the extent of his financial knowledge, and minute and particular acquaintance with that intricate science. He also opposed the waste ful system which had been adopted, for supplying the continental army, by allowing a commission to the contractors, on all moneys they paid out, instead of the system of forming special contracts, which he advocated, and which has since been adopted. In debating, his usual practice was to listen attentively to the re marks of others ; take minutes 'of what he wished to notice particular ly ; compose his speech ; commit it to memory, which he did with much facility; and when he appeared on the floor, he began with an exordium, in which he disposed of what had just been delivered, and then proceeded with his prepared speech, with so much regularity in noticing the several points brought forward in the course of the de bate, in such regular order, and with so much force of argument, as both surprised and delighted those who heard him. His mind was quick in apprehending, and his memory powerfel in retaining, what he read or heard. It was so much so, that his common method of preparing for the desk was to compose his sermon, -read it over three times only, leave his manuscript at home, and go and address his au dience from memory. While he was a member of congress, he acted a conspicuous part in the board of war and the board of finance. He was also one of a commission appointed by congress, on a request from New- York and New-Hampshire, to repair to Vermont, and adjust, if practicable, the • disputes which had arisen between the settlers on the Green Moun tains; the jurisdiction over which was claimed by both of these states, and disallowed by the settlers. The duty assigned bim he per formed; but it was, without the desired result; nor was it finally set tled until Vermont was acknowledged as an independent state, and be came united to the confederacy. Doctor Witherspoon voluntarily retired from congress at the close of the year 1779, although he was again called upon to renew his impor tant labors in that assembly. At the time of his retirement, he ap plied himself to the object of reviving the institution over which he presided, which had fallen into decay during the British invasion of JOHN WITHERSPOON. 541 New-Jersey. The more active part of recommencing the course of instruction was committed to his son-in-law, vice president Smith; while he sought some relaxation in a retirement to his own country seat, about a mile from the college. But the influence of his name and character, in connexion with the college was not withdrawn, but was continued to be felt with a benign effect, on its reviving prosperi ty; and its former reputation was soon restored. Soon after the preliminaries of peace were settled between the United States and Great Britain, in 1783, on the urgent request of the trustees of lhat college, but contrary to his own judgment, he crossed the Atlantic to England, to try to obtain funds in behalf of that seminary, in the country from which it had just been severed forever; and while the feeling of resentment was still warm in Eng land on that account. He predicted that the enterprise would proba bly prove unsuccessful: and thus it did in fact prove. He obtained but little more than sufficient to defray the expenses of the visit. On this excursion he was absent about nine months. On his return to New-Jersey, he immediately entered upon his retirement, in which he spent the remainder of his life, as far as was consistent with the duties he was required to perform to the college, by reason of his office of president, and those belonging to his ministerial profession. If doctor Witherspoon is viewed as a composer of sermons, he must be placed among the first rank of orthodox divines, in tiiis or any other country. His printed sermons published in his works, in four vols. 8vo, are alone Sufficient to confirm this opinion. But the public voice has already decided this as his character. And it is believed that no judicious person, who reads his works, will dissent from the judgment of the public in this particular. His manner in the pulpit was grave, solemn and deeply impressive. He engaged the attention of his audience at the beginning of his ser mon, and it was continued unabated to the end. He was for some years occasionally subject to spasmodic convulsion fits, which were supposed to be of the apoplectic kind ; and these were connected with a peculiar nervous susceptibility and a dizziness, which were wont to be produced if he yielded to that ardency of manner, which his natu ral warmth of feeling strongly urged him. But having been subject to that calamity from an early period of his life he found it indispen sable to his own safety, to adopt a grave, solemn manner of delivery, in his public addresses, and carefully to discipline his natural ardor into a more safe and moderate manner. It was difficult to hear him without being both instructed and-benefitted by his discourses. He pessessed 69 542 JOHN WITHEESPPPN. a strength pf thought, and a force of expression, happily adapted to usefulness in a preacher of the gospel, rarely equalled, and still more rarely surpassed. About two years before his decease he lost his eyesight. But this affliction did not make him relinquish his ministerial duties. After he was unable to see his own way,. he was often conducted into the pulpit by the hand of another, both at home and abroad. And when there, standing in the presence of Him who is the God of the sanctuary, with his own eyes shut in perpetual darkness, and precluded from the light of the sun, he presented to the beholders, one of the most impres sive scenes imaginable. A venerable minister of the gospel, more than seventy years of age, himself blind, addressing to an assembly pf accountable beings, the message of their Creator and Judge, con cerning the most weighty subject that can be imagined, with a feeling of deep and tender concern for their welfare, with unabated earnest ness, and with the grave solemnity of one who stood on the verge of eternity, hastening to finish his work, and preparing to give an ac count of his stewardship. If any combination of circumstances could produce salutary impressions on the heart, we might naturally look for them in a case like that just mentioned. As a writer, Dr. Witherspoon possessed a great versatility of talent, which he could successfully apply to any subject he chose to handle. His talent for wit and satire was almost unrivalled ; a weapon which he knew how to apply with irresistible force against an antagonist. Perhaps these remarks were never more fully verified, than in his "Ecclesiastical Characteristic." He could on a proper occasion, ex ercise his pen with the ease and graceful pleasantry of Addison. He possessed a gigantic mind; he wrote and published on many sub jects; and on each he gave the impress of his powerful intellect. His essay on the "nature, value and uses of money," is acknowl edged as one of the best that ever appeared in this country, and pro duced a happy influence on the minds of the community on that intri cate subject. Indeed, he never composed an essay for publication, without he had something important -to communicate; and he never published his views, without producing a good effect on the minds of his readers. His "serious enquiry jnto the nature and effects of the stage," evinces a thorough acquaintance with the subject, a minute investiga tion of its influence and censequences en society, and a deep and inti mate knowledge of the human heart. But among his works, those on theplogical subject&held the pre-emi- JOHN WITHERSPOON. 543 nence. And of these, may be selected, as among the happiest of his ^efforts, his essay on "justification by free grace, through Jesus Christ;" , and on "the nature and necessity of regeneration;" and that on "the importance of truth in religion," on "the connexion that subsists be tween sound principle and a holy practice." These several produc tions are not surpassed by any writings on those subjects, hitherto pub lished in the English language. As a manager in civil and ecclesiastical politics, he was eminently skilful, wise and successful. This he evinced before he left his native country, in the controversy between "moderate" and "orthodox" par ties, in which that branch of the Scottish church was divided ; and which called forth the "Ecclesiastical Characteristics," before men tioned. Although for a time he was in the minority, by his address and prudent management, without resorting to any unworthy or im proper measures, he succeeded in obtaining the majority to co-operate with him and in securing a complete triumph of the cause which he be lieved to be just; in which belief many of the wisest and most upright ministers and dignitaries of the English church fully concurred. In the Presbyterian church of the United States, his character and influ ence were justly held in high respect and estimation. In their judica tories he was eminently useful, by his knowledge of the general sub jects which came before them, by his acquaintance with the correct rules of conducting them, and the facility with which he disentangled the intricacies and embarrassments, with which they were sometimes encumbered. "He was clear and conclusive in reasoning; and from a peculiar soundness of judgment and a habit of business, skilful in conducting every discussion to the most speedy and decisive termina tion." And when he was taken away by death, it might have been said with truth, that a great man had fallen. At length, bodily infirmities, which had been creeping upon him for years, and gradually undermining his constitution, attacked him with an accumulated force, which was increased by the loss of his sight. His regular bodily exercise, was by this affliction, necessarily greatly dimin ished, by reason of which his health suffered, and it was apparent that his useful life was fast approaching to a close. He endured his sufferings with a patience and cheerfulness becoming the character of a Christian minister, when called to exemplify the gospel he had preached to others, in the closing scene of life. He was released from his labors, trials and sufferings, on the fifteenth day of November, 1794, in the seventy-third year of his age. Doctor Witherspoon was twice married. His first wife was a Scot- 544 JOHN WITHERSPOON. tish lady, a Miss Montgomery, to whom he was united in early life. She was a pious, benevolent, exemplary Christian. His posterity (all by his first marriage,) consisted of three sons and two daughters. Ann, the eldest, was married to the Rev. Samuel t Stanhope Smith, his successor in the presidency of the college. Fian ces was married to dpctor David Ramsay, of Charleston, South Caro lina, the historian of the American revolution. Her interesting me moirs, written by her husband, have been extensively read and admi red by the pious, throughout the United States. The following epitaph is inscribed on the marble which covers his remains : Beneath this marble lie interred the mortal remains of JOHN WITHERSPOON, D. D. LL. D. a venerable and beloved President of the College of New-Jersey. He was born in the parish of Yester, in Scotland, on the 5th of February, 1722, 0. S. And was liberally educated in the University of Edinburg; invested with holy orders in the year 1743, he faithfully performed tbe duties of his pastoral charge, during five and twenty years, first at Beith and then at Paisley. Elected president of Nassau Hall, he assumed the duties of that office on the 13th of August, 1768, with the elevated expectations of tbe public. Excelling in every mental gift, he was a man of pre-eminent piety and virtue and deeply versed iu the various branches of literature and the liberal arts. A grave and solemn preacher, his sermons abounded in the most excellent doctrines and precepts, and in lucid expositions of the Holy Scriptures. » Affable, pleasant, and courteous in familiar conversation, he was eminently distinguished in concerns and deliberations of the church, and endowed with the greatest prudence in the management and instruction of youth. He exalted the reputation of the college amongst foreigners, JOHN HANCPCK. 545 and greatly promoted the advancement of its literary character and taste. He was, for a long time, conspicuous Among the most brilliant luminaries of learning and of the Church. At length, universally venerated, beloved, and lamented he departed this life on the fifteenth of November, MDCCXCIV. aged LXXIII years. JOHN HANCOCK. This gentleman, who made a conspicuous figure in the period which preceded the revolutionary struggle, by which the American colonies were severed from the mother country, and whose name stands first on the list of signers of the declaration of independence — was born in the year 1737, near the village of Quincy, in the province of Massachu setts bay. The spot on which his paternal residence stood, constitutes a part of the estate of the first president Adams. Both his grandfather and his father were ministers of the gospel. The first settled and continued for near half a century in Lexington, the town celebrated for the scene of the first enterprise of the British troops, and the commencement of open hostilities with this country. His father, John Hancock, seems to have been a laborious, faithful, pious minister; a friend of learning, and a patron of the literary insti tutions of the province which gave him birth. His early decease, which occurred during the infancy of the subject of this memoir, left his son under the care of an uncle, who was an enterprising and suc cessful merchant, and had risen to wealth and eminence among the merchants of New-England. This affectionate relative look the charge of his nephew's education, and sent him to Harvard college, where he graduated in 1754, at the age of seventeen years. It is not known that he was distinguished among his contemporaries at college for any thing remarkable in his application to study, or in the brilliance of his genius. Soon after he closed his collegiate life, his uncle entered him as a clerk in his own counting house, and during the period of three years, his attainments in the knowledge of his business were such, that in the 546 JOHN HANCOCK. year 1760, he sent him to England. During his residence there, the death of George II. and the accession of George III. occurred. He was present at the funeral of the former, and the coronation of the latter. Soon after his return from England, he was called to mourn the death of his kind and benevolent patron. This event left him, at the age of twenty-seven years, in possession of one of the largest estates within the province of Massachusetts. To a young man, only twenty-seven, this sudden possession of wealth was full of danger; and to not a few would have proved their ruin. But Hancock became neither giddy, arrogant, nor profligate : and he continued his former course of regularity, industry, and moderation. Many depended upon him, as they had done upon his uncle, for em ployment. To these he was kind and liberal; while in his more ex tended and complicated commercial transactions, he maintained a high reputation for honor and integrity. The possession of wealth, added to the upright and honorable char acter which he sustained, naturally gave him influence inthe commu nity, and rendered him even popular. In 1769, he was placed by the suffrages of his fellow-citizens, in the legislature of Massachusetts, and tbis event seems to have given a direction to his future careen He thus became associated with such individuals as Otis, Cushing, and Samuel Adams, men of great political distinction, acute discrimi nation, and patriotic feeling. In such an atmosphere, the genius of Hancock brightened rapidly, and he soon became conspicuous among his distinguished colleagues. It has, indeed, been asserted, that in force of genius, he was inferior to many of his contemporaries; but honora ble testimony was given, both to the purity of his principles, and the excellence of his abilities, by his frequent nomination to committees, whose deliberations deeply involved the welfare of the community. The arrival of a vessel belonging to Mr. Hancock, in the year 1768, which was said to be loaded contrary to the revenue laws, has already been noticed, in our introduction. This vessel was seized by the cus tom-house officers, and placed ufcder the guns of the Romney, at that time in the harbor, for security. The seizure of this vessel greatly exasperated the people, and in their excitement, they assaulted the revenue Pfficers with violence, and compelled them to seek their safety on board the armed vessel, or in a neighboring castle. The boat of the collector was destroyed, and several houses belonging to his parti sans were razed to their foundation. In these proceedings, Mr. Hancock himself was in no wise engaged ; and he probably condemned them as rash and unwarrantable . But JOHN HANCOCK. 547 the transaction contributed greatly to bring him into notice, and to in crease his popularity. This, and several similar occurrences, served as a pretext tothego- vernor to introduce into Boston, not long after, several regiments of British troops; a measure which was fitted more than all others to ir ritate the inhabitants. Frequent collisions, as might be expected, soon happened between the soldiers and the citizens, the former of whom Were insolent, and the latter independent. These contentions not long after broke out into acts of. violence. An unhappy instance of this vi olence occurred on the evening of the 5lh of March, 1770, at which time, a small party of British soldiers was assailed by several of the citizens, with balls of snow, and other weapons. The citizens were fired upon by order of the commanding officer: a few were killed, and several others were wounded. Although the provocation, in this instance, was given by tbe citi zens, the whole town was simultaneously aroused to seek redress. At the instigation of Samuel Adams, and Mr. Hancock, an assembly of the citizens was convened the following day, and these two gentle men, with some others, were appointed a committee to demand of the governor the removal of the troops. Of this committee, Mr. Hancock was the chairman. A few days after the above affray, which is usually termed "the Bos ton massacre," the bodies of the slain were buried with suitable de monstrations of public grief. In commemoration of the event, Mr. Hancock was appointed to deliver an address. After speaking of his attachment to a righteous government, and of his enmity to tyranny, he proceeded in the following animated strain : "the town of Boston, ever faithful to the British crown, has been invested by a British fleet ; the troops of George III. have crossed the Atlantic, not to engage an enemy, but to assist a band of traitors in trampling on the rights and liberties of his most loyal subject; those rights and liberties, which, as a father, he ought ever to regard, and as a king, he is- bound in honor to defend from violation, even at the risk of his own life. "These troops, upon their first arrival, took possession of our senate house, pointed their cannon against the judgment hall, and even con tinued them there, whilst the supreme court of the province was actu ally setting to decide upon the lives und fortunes of the king's subjects. Our streets nightly resounded with the noise of their riot and debauch ery; our peaceful citizens were .hourly exposed to shameful insults, and often felt the effects of their violence and outrage. But this was not all ; as though they thought it not enough to violate our civil rights, 548 JOHN HANCOCK. they endeavoured to deprive us of the enjoyment of our religious pri vileges; to vitiate our morals, and thereby. render us deserving of de struction. Hence the rude din of arms, which broke in upon your solemn devotion in your temples, on that day hallowed by heaven, and set apart by God himself for his peculiar worship. Hence, impious oaths and blasphemies, so often tortured your unaccustomed ear. Hence, all the arts which idleness and luxury could invent, were used to betray our youth of one sex into extravagance and effeminacy, and of the other to infamy and ruin; and have they not succeeded but too well? Has not a reverence for religion sensibly decayed? Have not our infants almost learned to lisp curses, before they knew their horrid import? Have not our youth forgotten they were Americans, and regardless of the admonitions of the wise and aged, copied, with a servile imitation, Ihe frivolity and vices of their tyrants? And must 1 be compelled to acknowledge, that even the noblest, fairest part of all creation, have not entirely escaped their cruel snares ? — or why have I seen an honest father clothed with shame; why a virtuous mother drowned in tears? " But I forbear, and come reluctantly to the transactions of that dis mal night, when in such quick succession we felt the extremes of grief, astonishment and rage ; when heaven in anger, for a dreadful moment suffered hell to take the reins; when satan, with his chosen band, opened the sluices of New-England's blood, and sacrilegiously polluted our land with the dead bodies of her guiltless sons. "Let this sad tale of death never be told, without a tear; let not the heaving bosom cease to burn with a manly indignation at the relation of it, through the long track of future time; let every parent tell tbe shameful story lo his listening children, till tears of pity glisten in their eyes, or boiling passion shake their tender frames. "Dark and designing knaves, murderers, parricides! How dare you tread upon the earth, which has drunk the blood of slaughtered in nocence shed by your hand ! How dare you breathe that air, which waf ted to the ear of heaven the groans of those who fell a sacrifice to your accursed ambition?— But if the laboring earth doth not expand her jaws; if the air you breathe is not commissioned to be the minister of death; yet hear it and tremble! The eye of heaven penetrates the darkest chambers of the soul; and you, though screened from hu man observation, must be arraigned, must lift your hands, red with the blood of those whose death you have procured, at the tremendous bar of God. "But I gladly quit this theme of death — I would not dwell too long JOHN HANCOCK. 549 upon the horrid effects, which have already followed, from quartering regular troops in this town; let our misfortunes instruct posterity to guard against these evils. Standing armies are sometimes, (I would by no means say generally, much less universally,) composed of per sons who have rendered themselves unfit to live in civil society; who are equally indifferent to the glory of a George, or a Louis; who for the addition of oue penny a day to their wages, would desert from the Christian cross, and fight under the crescent of the Turkish sultan; from such men as these what has not a state to fear? With such as these, usurping Caesar passed the Rubicon ; with such as these, he hum bled mighty Rome, and forced the mistress of the world to own a mas ter in a traitor. These are the men whom sceptred robbers now em ploy to frustrate the designs of God, and render vain the bounties which his gracious hand pours indiscriminately upon his creatures." Previously to this address, doubts had been entertained by some, as to the perfect patriotism of Mr. Hancock. It was said that the governor of the province had, either by studied civilities, or by direct overtures, endeavored to attach him to the royal cause. For a time insinuations of this derogatory character were circulated abroad, highly detrimental to his fame . The manners and habits of Mr. Han cock had, not .a little, contributed to countenance the malicious impu tations. His fortune was princely. His mansion displayed the mag nificence of a courtier, rather than the simplicity of a republican. Gold and silver embroidery adorned his garments, and on public occa sions, his carriage and horses, and servants in livery, emulated the splendor of the English nobility. The eye of envy saw not this mag nificence with indifference ; nor was it strange that reports unfriendly to his patriotic integrity should have been circulated abroad ; especially as from his wealth and fashionable intercourse, he had more connex ion with the governor and his party than many others. The sentiments, however, expressed by Hancock in the above ad dress, were so explicit and so patriotic, as to convince the most incre dulous; and a renovation of his popularity was the consequence. Hancock, from this time, became as odious to the royal governor and his adherents, as he was dear to the republican party. It now became an object of some importance to the royal governor, to get possession of the persons of Mr. Hancock and Samuel Adams; and this is said to have been intended in the expedition to Concord, which led to the memorable battle of Lexington, the opening scene of the revolutionary war. Notwithstanding the secrecy with which that expedition was planned, these patriots, who were at the time members of the provin- 70 550 JOHN HANCOCK. cial congress at Concord, fortunately made their escape; but it was only at the moment the British troops entered tbe house where they lodged. Following this battle, governor Gage issued his proclamation, offering a general pardon to all who should manifest a proper-penitence •for their opposition to the royal authority, excepting the abowe two gentlemen, whose guilt placed them beyond the reach of the royal clemency. In October, 1774, Hancock was unanimously elected to the presi dential chair of the provincial congress of Massachusetts. The fol lowing year, the still higher honor of the presidency of the continen tal congress was conferred upon him. In this body, were men of su perior genius, and of still greater experience than Hancock. There were Franklin and Jefferson, and Dickinson, and many others, men of pre-eminent abilities and superior political sagacity; but the recent proclamation of governor Gage, proscribing Hancock and Adams, had given those gentlemen great popularity, and presented a sufficient rea son to the continental congress, to express their respect for them, by the election of the former to the presidential chair. In this distinguished station Hancock continued till October, 1777; at which time, in consequence of infirm health, induced by an unre mitted application to business, he resigned his office, and, with a pop ularity seldom enjoyed by any individual, retired to his native pro vince. Of the convention, which, about this time, was appointed to frame a constitution for the state of Massachusetts, Hancock was a member. Under the constitution, in 1780, he was the first governor of the com monwealth, to which office he was annually elected, until the year 1785, when he resigned. After an interval of two years, he was re elected to the same office, in which he was continued to the time of his death, which took place on the 8th of October, 1793, and in the 55th year of his age. Of the character of Mr. Hancock, the limits which we have pre scribed to ourselves, will permit us to say but little more. It was an honorable trait in that character, that while he possessed a superfluity of wealth, to the unrestrained enjoyment of which he came at an un guarded period of life, he avoided excessive indulgence and dissipation., His habits, through life, were uniformly on the side of virtue. In his disposition and manners, he was kind and courteous. He claimed no superiority from his advantages, and manifested no arrogance on account of his wealth. His enemies accused him of an excessive fondness for popularity, ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 551 to which fondness, envy and malice were not backward in- ascribing his liberality on various pccasions. Whatever may have been the justice of such an imputation, many examples of the generosity of his character are recorded. Hundreds of families, it is said, in times of distress, were daily fed from his munificence. In promoting the lib erties of his country, no one, perhaps, actually expended more wealth, or was willing to make greater sacrifices. An instance of his public spirit, in 1775, is recorded, much to his praise. At that time, the American army was besieging Boston, to expel the British, who held possession of the town. To accomplish this ob ject, the entire destruction of the city was proposed by the American officers. By the execution of such a plan, the whole fortune of Mr. Hancock would have been sacrificed. Yet he immediately acceded to the measure, declaring his readiness to surrender his all, whenever the liberties of his country should require it. It is not less honorable to the character of Mr. Hancock, that while " wealth and independence powerfully tempted him to a life of indolence, he devoted himself for many years, almost without intermission to the most laborious service of his country. Malevolence, during some periods of his public life, aspersed his character, and imputed to him motives of conduct to which he was a stranger. Full justice was done to his memory at his death, iu the expression of grief and affec tion which were offered over his remains, by the multitudes who thronged his house while his body lay in state, and who followed his remains to the grave. ALEXANDER HAMILTON, Inspector-General in the American Army. Colonel Hamilton was a native of the island of St. Croix, and was born in 1757. His father was the younger son of an English family, and his mother was an American lady of respectable connexions. At the age of sixteen, he accompanied his mother to New- York, and en tered a student of King's (now Columbia) College, in which he con tinued about three years. While a member of this institution, the first buddings of his intellect gave presages of his future eminence. The contest with greaYBritain called forth the first talents on each side, and his juvenile pen asserted the violated rights of the American 552 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. colonies against the most respectable writers. His papers exhibited iucb evidence of intellect and wisdom, that they were ascribed to Mr. Jay; and when the truth was discovered, America saw, with astonish ment, a lad of seventeen in the list of her able advocates. The first sound of war awakened his martial spirit, and at the age of eighteen he entered the American army as captain, in the corps of artillery. 'Soon after the war was transferred to the Hudson, in 1777, his superior endowments recommended him to the attention of tbe com mander-in-chief, into whose family, before completing his twenty-first year, be was invited to enter as an aid, with the rank of lieutenant- colonel. Equally brave and intelligent, he continued in tbis situation to display a degree of firmness and capacity which commanded the confidence and esteem of the principal officers in the army. His sound understanding, comprehensive views, application and promptitude, soon gained him the entire confidence of general Wash ington. In such a school, it was impossible but that his genius should be nourished. By intercourse with his general, by surveying his plans, observing his consummate prudence, and by a minute inspec tion of the springs of national operations, he became fitted for com mand. Throughout the campaign which terminated in the capture of lord Cornwallis, colonel Hamilton commanded a battalion of light infantry. At the siege of York, in 1781, when the second parallel was opened, two redoubts, which flanked it, and were advanced three hundred yards in front of the British works, very much annoyed the men in the trenches : it was resolved to possess them ; and to prevent jealou sies, the attack of one was committed to the French, and of tbe other to the Americans. The detachment of the Americans was ..command ed by the marquis de Lafayette ; and colonel Hamilton, at his own earnest request led the advanced corps, consisting of two battalions. Towards the close of the day, on the fourteenth of October, the troops rusbed to the charge without firing a single gun; and so great was their ardor that they did not give the sappers time to remove the abattis and palisades. Passing over them, they assailed the works with irresistible impetuosity on all sides at once, and entered them with such rapidity that their loss was inconsiderable. The irritation pro duced by the recent carnage at Fort Griswold, had not so far subdued the humanity of the American character as to induce retaliation. Not a man was killed except in action. "Imppable," said colonel' Hamilton, in his report, "of imitating examples of barbarity, and for getting recent provocation, the soldiery spared every min that ceased to resist." ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 553 Soon after the capture of Cornwallis, Hamilton sheathed his sword, and being encumbered with a family, and destitute of funds, at the age of twenty-five, applied to the study ofthe law. In this profession he soon rose to distinction. But the critical circumstances of the exist ing government induced him to accept a seat in the congress of the United States. In all the important acts of the day he performed a conspicuous part, and was greatly distinguished among those distin guished characters whom the crisis had attracted to the councils of the country. Being a member of congress while the question of the commutation of the half pay of the army for a sum in gross was in debate, delicacy, and a desire to be useful to the army, by removing the idea of his having an interest in the question, induced him to write to the secretary of war, aud relinquish his claim to half pay, which, or the equivalent, he never received. We have now arrived at au interesting and important period in the life of Hamilton. After witnessing the debility of the old confedera tion, and its inefficiency to accomplish the objects proposed by its arti cles, viz: "common defence, security and liberty, and general wel fare," a convention of the states was agreed upon, for the purpose of forming an efficient federal government. In this convention was col lected the sound wisdom of the country — the patriots and sages who, by their valor and their prudence, had carried her triumphantly through the stormy period of the revolution, and had given her a name among the nations of the earth. To this convention Hamilton was appointed a delegate from the state of New-York. It convened at the state-house, in Philadelphia, May 25th, 1787. A unanimous vote placed general Washington in tho chair. "It was soon found," says Mr. Martin, one of the delegates from Maryland, " there were among us three parties of very different senti ments and views. One party, whose object and wish it was to abolish and annihilate all state governments, and to bring forward ono general government over this extensive continent, of a monarchial nature, under cerlain restrictions and limitations: — Those who openly avow ed this sentiment were, it is true, but few; yet it is equally true, sir, that there was a considerable number who did not openly avow it, who were, by myself and many others of the convention, considered as being in reality favorers of that sentiment, and acting upon those principles, covertly endeavoring to carry into effect what they well .knew epenly and avowedly could not be accomplished. "The, second party was not for the abolition of the state govern ments nor for the introduction ef a monarchial government under any 554 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. form: but they wished to establish such a system as could give their own states an undue power and influence in the government over the other,, states. "A third party was what I considered truly federal and republican ; this party was nearly equal in number with the other two, and were composed of the delegates from Connecticut, New- York, New-Jersey, Delaware, and in part from Maryland ; also of some individuals from other representations." During the heat of the party animosity, much was said and written of the monarchial views of Hamilton, and of his attempts, in the con vention which formed our constitution, to carry those views into ef fect. How far the sentiments imputed to him are correct, the follow ing paper read by him as containing his ideas of a suitable plan of government for the United States, will show: "1. The supreme legislative power of the United States of America to be vested in two distinct bodies of men, the one to be called the assembly, the other the senate, who,) together shall form the legislature of tbe United States, with power to pass all laws whatsoever, subject to the negative hereafter mentioned. "2. The assembly to consist of persons elected by the people, to serve for three years. "3. The senate to consist of persons elected to serve during good behaviour; their election to be made by electors chosen for that pqrpose by the people. In order to this, the states to be divided into election districts. On the death, removal, or resignation of any sen ator, his place to be filled out of the district from which he came. "4. The supreme executive authority of the United States to be vested in a governor, to be elected to serve during good behaviour. His election to be made by electors chosen by the people, in the election districts aforesaid. His authorities and functions to be as fol lows: "To have a negative upon all laws about to be passed, and the exe cution of all laws passed ; to have the entire direction of war, when authorized or begun ; to have, with the advice and approbation of the senate, the power of making all treaties to have the sole appointment of the heads or chief officers of the departments of finance, war and foreign affairs; to have the nomination of all other officers, (ambas sadors to foreign nations included,) subject to the approbation or re jection ofthe senate; to have the power of pardoning all offences, ex-, cept treason, which he shall not pardon without the approbation of the senate. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 555 *'5. On the death, resignation, or removal of the governor, his au thority to be exercised by the president of the senate, until a successor be appointed. "6. The senate to have the sole power of declaring war; the power of advising and approving all treaties; the power of approving or re jecting all appointments of officers, except the heads or chiefs of the departments of finance, war and foreign affairs. "7. The supreme judicial authority of the United States to be vested in judges, to hold their offices during good behaviour, with adequate and permanent salaries. This court to have original jurisdiction in all cases of capture, and an appellative jurisdiction in all causes in which the revenues of the general government, or citizens of foreign nations, are concerned. "8. Tbe legislature of the United States to have power to insti tute courts in each state, for the determination of all m'alters of general concern. "9. The governors, senators and all officers of the United States, to be liable to impeachment for mal and corrupt conduct; and upon con viction. to be removed from office, and disqualified from holding any place of trust or profit. All impeachments to be tried by a court to consist of the chief, or senior judge of the superior court of law in each state; provided that such judge hold his place during good be haviour, and have a permanent salary. "10. All laws of tbe particular states, contrary to the constitution or laws of the United States, to be utterly void. And the better to pre vent such laws being passed, the governor or president of each state shall be appointed by the general government, and shall have a nega tive upon the laws about to be passed in the state of which be is gov ernor or president. "11. No state to have any forces, land or naval; and tbe militia of all the states to be under the sole and exclusive direction of the United States; the officers of which to be appointed and commissioned by them." Such being the views of Hamilton, the constitution framed by the convention did not completely meet his wishes. He was afraid it did not contain sufficient means of strength for its own preservation, and that in consequence we should share the fate of many other republics, and pass through anarchy to despotism. He was in favor of a more permanent executive and senate. He wished for a strong govern ment, which would not be shaken by the conflict of different interests through an extensive territory, and which should be adequate to all 556 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. forms of national exigency. He was apprehensive that the increased wealth and population of the states would lead to encroachments on the union. These were his views and feelings, and he freely and hon estly expressed them. A respectable member of the convention once remarked, that if the constitution did not succeed on trial, Mr. Hamilton was less responsi ble for that result than any other member, for he fully and frankly pointed out to the convention what he apprehended were the infirmities to which it was liable. And that if it answered the fond expectations ofthe public, the community would be more indebted to Mr. Hamil ton than any other member; for after its essential outlines were agreed to, he labored most indefatigably to heal those infirmities, and to guard against the evils to which they might expose it. The patriotism of Mr. Hamilton was not of that kind which yields every thing because it cannot accomplish all that'it desires. Believ ing the constitution incomparably superior to the old confederation, be exerted all his talents in its support. After the publication of the constitution, Hamilton, in concert with Mr. Jay and Mr. Madison, commenced the "Federalist," a series of essays, addressed to the people of the state of New-York, in favor ofthe adoption of the constitution. These papers first made their appearence in the daily prints, early in November, 1787, and the work was not con cluded until a short time previous to the meeting of the state convention, in June, 1788. It was well understood that Mr. Hamilton was the prin cipal author, and wrote at least three-fourths of the numbers. This work is not to be classed among the ephemeral productions which are calculated to produce a party purpose, and when that purpose is an swered, to expire forever. It is a profound and learned disquisi tion on the principles of a federal representative government, and combines an ardent attachment to public liberty. This work will no doubt endure as long as any of the republican institutions of this country, on which it is so luminous and elegant a commentary. His voice co-operated with his pen. In the convention of the state, which met to deliberate on the federal constitution, he was returned a member, and was alaways heard with awe, perhaps with conviction* though not always with success. But when the crisis arrived; when! a vote was to determine whether New- York should retain or relinquish her place in the union, and preceding occurrences made it probable that she would choose the worst part of the alternative, Hamilton* arose in redoubled strength. He argued, he remonstrated, he entrea ted, he warned, he'painted, till apathy itself was moved, and the most ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 557 relentless of human beings a preconcerted majority, was staggered and broken. Truth was again victorious, and New-York enrolled her self under the standard pf the federal constitution. The constitution having gone into operation, and the executive de partments being established, Mr. Hamilton was appointed, in the sum mer of 1789, to the office of secretary of the treasury. The task of recruiting public credit, of drawing|Order and arrangement front the chaotic confusion in which the finances of America were involved, and of devising means which should render the revenue productive, and commensurate with the demand, in a manner least burdensome to the people, was justly classed among the most arduous pf the duties which develved on the new government. This office he held between five and six years; and when we look back to the measures that within that peried he originated, matured and vindicated, we are astonished in the contemplation of the various pow ers of bis ingenious and exalted mind. Mr. Hamilton is justly consid ered \he founder of the public credit of this country. The manner in which the several states entered into and conducted the war of the revolution will be recollected. Acting in some respect separately, and in others conjointly, for the attainment of a common object, their resources were exerted, sometimes under the authority of congress, sometimes under the authority of the local governments, to repel the enemy wherever he came. The debt incurred in the support of the war was therefore, in the first instance, contracted partly by the continent, and partly by the states. When the system of requisition was adopted, the transactions of the Union were carried on, in a great degree through the agency of the states, and when the measure of com pensating the army for the depreciation of their pay became necessary, this burden under the recommendation of congress, was assumed by the respective states. In their exertions to meet the calls of congress, some degree of inequality had obtained, and they looked anxiously to a settlement of accounts between them. To assume these debts, and to fund them in common with that which continued to be the proper debt of the Union, was proposed by Mr. Hamilton, in his first report to congress, as secretary of the treasury. This celebrated report, which has been alike the fruitful theme of extravagant praise and bitter censure, was rigorously opposed in con gress. It was agreed by all that the foreign debt should be provided for in the manner proposed by the secretary, but with respect to the domestic debt, the same unanimity was far from prevailing. It was contended that the general government would acquire an undue in- 71 558 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. fluence, and that the state governments would be annihilated by the measure. Not only would all the influence of the public creditors be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would absorb all the pow-- - ers of taxation, and leave the latter only the shadow of a govern ment. This would probably terminate in rendering the state govern ments useless, and would -destroy tbe system so recently established. The constitutional authority of the federal government to assume these debts was questioned. -f On the ground of policy it was objected, that the assumption would impose on the United States a burden, the weight of which was unas certained, and which would require an extension of taxation beyond the limits which prudence would prescribe. That the debt, by being thus accumulated, would be perpetuated; and the secretary was char ged with the doctrine, "that a public debt was a public blessing." The measure was said to be unwise too, as it would affect the public credit. Such an augmentation of the debt must inevitably depreciate its value; since it was the character of paper, whatever denomination •it might assume, to diminish in value in proportion to the quantity in circulation. In support of the assumption, the debts of the states were traced te their origin. America, it was said, had engaged in a war, the object of which was equally interesting to every part of the Union. It was not the war of a particular state, but of the United States. It was not the liberty and -independence of a part, but of the whole, for which they had contended, and which they had acquired. The cause was a common cause. As brethren, the American people had consented to •hazard property and life in its defence. All the sums expended in this great object, whatever might be the authority under which they were raised or appropriated, conducted to the same end. Troops were rais ed, and military stores were purchased, before congress assumed the •command of the army, orcontrol of the war. The ammunition which repulsed the enemy at Bunker's Hill, was purchased by Massachu setts, and formed a part of the debt of that state. The great moving principle which governed Hamilton in his depart ment was good faith. "Public credit," said he, "could only be main tained by good faith, by a punctual performance of contracts;" and good faith was recommended net pnly by the strongest inducements of political expediency, but was enforced by considerations of still higher authority. There are arguments for it which rest on the immutable principle of moral obligation. And in proportion as the mind is dis posed to contemplatej in the order of providence, an intimate connex- ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 559 ion between public virtue and public happiness, will be its repugnan cy to a violation of those principles. "This reflection," he said, "derived additional strength, from the na ture of the debt of the United States. Il was ihe price of liberty'. The faith of America had been repeatedly pledged for it, and with s& lemnity that gave peculiar force to the obligation. His report, though strenuously opposed, was finally adopted, and un der his administration the finances advanced to a state of prosperity beyond all expectation, and so as to engage the attention and command the confidence of Europe. The effect was electrical. Commerce re vived; the ploughshare glittered ; property recovered its value; credit was established ; revenue created ; the treasury filled. The insinuation that has often been inculcated, that Hamilton pat ronized the doctrine, that a public debt was a public blessing, is with out a shadow of foundation. He inculcates, with great solicitude, in his reports, that "the progressive accumulation of debts was the natural disease of governments; that it ought to be guarded against with prudent foresight and inflexible perseverance ; that it ought to be a fundamental maxim in the system of public credit, that ihe creation of public debt should always be accompanied with the means of ex tinguishment. The beneficial effects of the measures recommended by Hamilton, as secretary of the treasury, and which are known and felt constantly, have at last accomplished what argument alone could not do — they forced a universal conviction on the public mind; and all the dread spectres which were conjured up at the time to terrify the imagina tion and blind the judgment, have long since disappeared before the light of experience. He has left to his successor little more to do than to follow his precepts, and to shine by the lustre of his example. Mr. Hamilton, in his character of secretary of the treasury, was also one of the constitutional advisers of the president, in relation generally to the duties of his office. In January, 1795, Hamilton resigned the office of secretary of the treasury, and once more returned to private life. In the rage and rancour of party at that time, no wonder that the tongue of slander followed him. So fair was the opportunity of acquiring a princely fortune which was presented to him, and the disposition to profit by it so little at variance with the common estimate of honorable gain, ' that few supposed it possible to resist the temptation. The fact being presumed, every petty politician erected himself into a critic; while the gazettes, the streeis, the polls of election, resounded with the 560 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. millions amassed by the secretary. It is natural that the idolaters of gold should treat the contempt of it as a chimera. But gold was not the idol of HamiltoD. Exquisitely delicate toward official character, he touched none of the advantages which he put within the reach of others; he vested not a dollar in the public funds. He entered into the public service with property of his own, the well-earned reward of professienal talent; he centinued in it till his funds were gone, and left it to get bread for a suffering family. It was surely enough that he had impoverished himself while he was enriching the common wealth ; but it was beyond measure insulting, to charge him, under suoh circumstances, with invading the public purse. The last great occasion which called Hamilton upon the theatre of public action, existed in the spring of the year 1798. It will be recollected that France had been long making piratical depredations upon our commerce; that our ministers had been treated with the grossest indignity, and money demanded of the United States on terms the most degrading. Open and determined war was the consequence. Washington was appointed lieutenant-general and commander-in chief. The following letter from him to President Adams, on the subject of appointing Hamilton ta the second in command, shows his high standing in the opinion of the illustrious Washington. "Mount Vernon, Sept. 25, 1798. "It is an invidious task, at all times, to draw comparisons, and I shall avoid it as much as possible; but I have no hesitation in declar ing, that if the public is to be deprived of the services of colonel Ham ilton in the military line, the post he was destined to fill will not be easily supplied— and that this is the sentiment of the public, I think I may venture to pronounce. Although colonel Hamilton has never acted in tbe character of a general officer, yet his opportunities, as the principal and most confidential aid of the commander-in-chief, affor ded him the means of viewing every thing on a larger scale than those who had only divisions and brigades to attend to; who knew nothing pf the correspondences of the commander-in-chief, or the va rious prders to, pr transactions with, the general staff of the army. These advantages, and his having served with usefulness in the old congress, in the general convention, and having filled one of the most important departments of government with acknowledged abilities and integrity, have placed him on high ground, and made him a conspicu ous character in the United States, and even in Europe. To these, as a matter of no small consideration, may be added, that as a lucrative practice in the line of his profession is his most certain dependence) ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 561 the inducement to relinquish it must, in some degree, be commensu rate. By some he is considered an ambitious man, and therefore a dan- •Igerous one. That he is ambitious I shall readily grant, but it is of that laudable kind which prompts a man to excel in whatever he takes in hand. "He is enterprising, quick in his perceptions — and his judgment intuitively great; qualities essential to a great military character; and therefore I repeat, that his loss will be irreparable. "GEORGE WASHINGTON." Hamilton was accordingly appointed inspector-general, agreeably to the wishes of Washington. On the death of that great man, he succeeded to the office of commander-in-chief, and continued in that cha racter, until the army was disbanded in the summer of 1800, when he returned again to his profession in the city of New- York. In this place he passed the remainder of his days. In June, 1804, colonel Burr, vice-president of the United States, addressed a letter to general Hamilton, requiring his acknowledgment or denial of the use of any expression derogatory to the honor of the former. Perhaps the most satisfactory manner of introducing the' reader to this subject, will be to begin with the correspondence which led to the fatal interview. It is as follows: New-York, June 18, 1804. Sir — I send for your perusal a letter signed Charles D. Cooper, which, though apparently published sometime ago, has but very re cently came to my knowledge. Mr. Van Ness, who does me the favof to deliver this, will point out to you that clause of the letter to which I particularly request your attention. You must perceive, sir, the necesssity of a prompt and unqualified acknowledgment oi denial of the use of any expression which would warrant the assertion of Dr. Cooper. I have the honor to be your obedient serv't, A. BURR. Gen. Hamilton. New-York, June20, 1804. Sir — I have maturely reflected on the subject of your letter of the 18th inst., and the more I have reflected, the more have I become con vinced that I could not, without manifest impropriety, make the avowal or disavowal which you seem to think necessary. The clause point ed out by Mr. Van Ness, is in these terms: "I could detail to you a still more despicable opinion which general Hamilton has expressed 662 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. of Mr. Burr." To endeavor to discover the meaning of this declara* tion, I was obliged to seek, in the antecedent part of this letter, for the opinion to which it referred, as having been already disclosed. I found it in these words: — "general Hamilton and judge Kent have declared in substance, that they looked upon Mr. Burr to be a dangerous man, and one who ought not to be trusted with the reins of government." The language of Dr. Cooper plainly implies; that he considered this opinion of you, which he attributes to me, as a despicable one; but he affirms that I have expressed some other more despicable, without, however, mentioning to whom, when or where. 'Tis evident that the phrase "still more despicable," admits of infinite shades, from very light to very dark. How am I to judge of the degree intended? or how shall 1 annex any precise idea to language so indefinite? Between gentlemen, , despicable and more despicable are not worth the pains of distinction; when, therefore, you do not interrogate me, as to Ihe opinion which is specifically ascribed to me, I must conclude that you view it as within tbe limits to which the animadversions of political opponents upon each other may justifiably extend, and conse quently as not warranting the idea of which Dr. Cooper appears to entertain. If so, what precise inference could you draw, as a guide for your conduct, were I to acknowledge that I had expressed an opin ion of you still more despicable than the one which is particularized? How could you be sure that even this opinion had exceeded the bounds which you would yourself deem admissible between political opponents. But I forbear further comment on the embarrassment to which the requisition you have made naturally leads. Tho occasion forbids a more ample illustration, though nothing could be more easy than to pursue it. Repeating that I cannot reconcile it with propriety to make the ac knowledgment or denial you desire, I will add that I deem it inadmis sible on principle, to consent to be interrogated as to the justness of the inferences which may be drawn by others from whatever I may have said of a political opponent, in the course of fifteen years compe tition. If there were no other objection to it, this is sufficient, that it would tend to expose my sincerity and delicacy to injurious imputations from every person who may at any time have conceived the import of my expressions differently from what I may then have intended,or may afterward recollect. I stand ready to avow or disavow, promptly and explicitly, any precise or definite opinion which I may be charged with having declared of any gentleman. More than this cannot be fitly ex pected from me; and especially it cannot be reasonably expected that ALEXANDER HAMILTON. ' 563 I shall eiiter into an explanation upon a basis so vague as lhat which you have adopted. I trust, on more reflection, you will see the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only regret the circumstance, and must abide the consequences. The publication of Dr. Cooper was never seen by me till after the receipt of your letter. I have the honor to be, &c. A. HAMILTON. Col. Burr. New York,21st June, 1804. Sir — Your letter of the 20th inst. has been this day received. Having considered it attentively, I regret to find in it nothing of that sincerity and delicacy which you profess to value. Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor, and the rules of decorum. I neither claim such privilege nor indulge it in others. The common sense of mankind affixes to the epithet adopted by Dr. Cooper, the idea of dishonor. It has been publicly applied to me un der the sanction of your name. The question is not, whether he has understood the meaning of the word, or has used it according to syntax, and with grammatical accuracy, but whether you have authorised this application, either directly or by uttering expressions or opinions de rogatory to my honor. The time "when" is in your own knowledge, but no way material to me, as the calumny has now first been disclosed, so as to become the subject of my notice, and as the effect is present and palpable. Your letter has furnished me with new reasons for requiring a defi nite reply. I have the honor to be, Sir, your obedient, A. BURR. Gen. Hamilton. On Saturday, the22d of June, general Hamilton, for the first time, called on Mr. Pendleton, and communicated to him the preceding cor respondence. He informed him that in a conversation with Mr. Van Ness, at the time of receiving the last letter, he told Mr. Van Ness thathe considered that letter as rude and offensive, and that it was not possible for him to give it any other answer than that Mr. Burr must take such steps as he might think proper. He said further, that Mr. Van Ness requested bim to take time to deliberate, and then return an answer, when he might possibly etjtertain a different opinion, and that 564 ALEXANDER IIAMILTON. he would call on him to receive it. That his reply to Mr. Van Ness was, that he did not perceive it possible for him to give any other an swer than that he had mentioned, unless Mr. Burr would take back his last letter and write one which would admit of a different reply. He then gave Mr. Pendleton the letter hereafter mentioned, of the 22d of June, to be delivered to Mr. Van Ness when he should call on Mr. Pen dleton for an answer, and went to his country house. The nextday general Hamilton received, while there, the following letter : June 22d, 1804. Sir — In the afternoon of yesterday, I reported to colonel Burr, the result of my last interview with you, and appointed the evening to re ceive his further instructions. Some private engagements, however, prevented me from calling on him till this morning. On my return to the city, I found upon inquiry, both at your office and house, that you had returned to your residence in the country. Lest an interview there might be less agreeable to you than elsewhere, I have taken the liberty of addressing you this note, to inquire when and where it will be most convenient for you to receive a communication. Your most obedient, And very humble servant, W. P. VAN NESS. Gen. Hamilton. Mr. Pendleton understood from general Hamilton, that he immedi ately answered, that if the communication was pressing, he would re ceive it at his country house that day; if not, he would be at his house in town the next morning, at nine o'clock. But he did not give Mr. Pendleton any copy of this note. New- York, June 22d, 1 804. Sir — Your first letter, in a style too peremptory, made a demand, in my opinion, unprecedented and unwarrantable. My answer, point ing out the embarrassment, gave you an opportunity to take a less ex ceptionable course. You have not chosen to do it; but by your last. letter, received this day, containing expressions indecoerous and improi per, you have increased the difficulties te explanation intrinsically inci dent to the nature ef ypur application. If by a "definite reply," you mean the direct avowal or disavowal required in your first letter, I have no other answer to give than that ALEXANDER HAMILTON . 565 which has already been given. If you mean any thing different, ad mitting of greater latitude, it is requisite you should explain. I have the honor to be, ¦ Sir, your obedient servant, ALEX. HAMILTON. Aaron Burr, Esq. This letter, although dated on the 22d of -June, remained in Mr, Pendleton^s possession until the 25th, within which period he had sev eral conversations with Mr. Van Ness. In these conversations Mr. Pendleton endeavored to illustrate and enforce the propriety of the ground general Hamilton had taken. Mr. Pendleton mentioned to Mr. Van Ness as the result, that if oolonel Burr would write a letter, re questing to know in substance, whether in the conversation to which Dr. Cooper alluded, any particular instance of dishonorable conduct was imputed to colonel Burr, or whether there was any impeachment of his private character, general Hamilton would declare to the best of his recollection what passed in that conversation ; and Mr. Pendle ton read to Mr. Van Ness a paper containing the substance of what general Hamilton would say on that subject, which is as follows: "General Hamilton says he cannot imagine to what Dr. Cooper may . have alluded, unless it were fo a conversation at Mr. Taylor's, in Alba ny, last winter, (at which he and general Hamilton were present,) gen eral Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly the particulars of that con versation so as to undertake to repeat them, Without running the risk of varying or omitting what might be deemed importantcircumstances. The expressions are entirely forgotten, and the specific ideas imper fectly remembered ; but to the best of his recollection it consisted ¦ of comments on the political principles and views of colonel Burr, and the result that might be expected from them in the event of his elec tion as governor, without reference to any particular instance of past conduct or to private character." After the delivery of the letter of the 22d, as above mentioned, in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he desired Mr. Pendleton to give him in writing the substance of what he had proposed on the part of general Hamilton, which Mr, Pendleton did in the words following: "In answer to a letter properly adapted to obtain from general Ham ilton a declaration whether he had charged colonel Burr with any par ticular instance of dishonorable conduct, or had impeached his private character, either in the conversation alluded to by Dr. Cooper, or in any other particular instance to be specified, he would be able to an- 72 966 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. swer consistently with his honor, and the truth, in substance, that the conversation to which Dr. "Cooper alluded, turned whelly on political topics, and did not attribute tp colonel Burr any instance of dishonora ble conduct, nor relate to his private character: and in relation to any other language or conversation of general Hamilton which colonel Burr will specify, a prompt and frank avowal or denial will be given." On the 26th of June, Mr. Pendleton received the following letter: Sir — The letter which you yesterday delivered me, and your sub sequent communication, in colonel Burr's opinion, evince no disposi tion on the part of general Hamilton to come to. a' satisfactory accom modation. The injury complained. of, and the reparation expected, are so definitely expressed in colonel Burr's letter of the 21st inst., that there is not perceived a necessity far further explanation on his part. The difficulty that would result from confining the inquiry to any par ticular times and occasions must be manifest. The denial of a speci fied conversation only, would leaye strong implications that on other occasions improper language had been used. When and where inju rious opinions and expressions have been uttered by gpueral Hamilton, must be best known to him, and of him only will colonel Burr inquire. No denial or declaration will be satisfactory, unless it be general, so as wholly to exclude the idea that rumors derogatory tp colonel Burr's honor have originated with general Hamilton, or have been fairly in ferred from any thing he has said. A definite reply to a requisition of this nature was demanded by colonel Burr's letter of the 21st inst. This being refused, invites the alternative alluded to"in general Ham ilton's letter of the 20th. It was required by the position in which the controversy was placed by general Hamilton, on Friday last,* and I was immediately furnished with a communication demanding a personal interview. The necessi ty ef this measure has not, in the opinion of colonel Burr, been dimin ished by the general's last letter, or any communication which has since been received. I am consequently again instructed to deliver you a message as soon as it maybe convenient for you to receive it. I beg, therefore, you will be so good as to inform me at what.hour I can have the pleasure of seeing you. Your most obedient, And very 'humble servant, W. P. VAN NESS. Nathaniel Pendleton, Esq. June 2Gth. *June 22d. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 567 26 "Both of them stood recovered; and while the little son was support ed, standing on the steps, yet speechless, the most affecting scene pre sented itself. The mother, in the tender situation, fastened herself upon the son, with her head reclining on his left shoulder; the ago nies so strongly painted in her countenance; her long flowing weeds; the majesty of her person; the position of both; and above all, the pe culiarity of their trying situation in the recent loss of a husband and a father; who could refrain from invoking on the head of the guilty au thor of their miseries those curses he so richly meritsf The curse of living despised and execrated, by the voice of a whole nation ; the curse of being held up to the view of future ages, a monster and an ASSASSIN." After the death of general Hamilton, a note, which had been writ- ton/the evening before the interview, was found, addressed to the gen- . ileman who accompanied him to the field, thanking him with tender- ALEXANDER HAMILTON". 575 ness for his friendship to him, and informing him where would be found the keys of certain drawers in his desk, in which he had deposited such papers he had thought proper to leave behind him, together with his last will, • The following paper, as containing his motives for accepting the challenge, his reflections on his situation, and some remarks on the con duct of the man who was to be the cause of his death, is "presented as a highly interesting document. On my expected interview with colonel Buarr, I think it proper to make some remarks explanatory of my conduct, motives and views. I .was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview for the most co gent reasons. 1. My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed to the practice of duelling, and it would ever give me pain to be obliged to shed the biood of a fellow-creature in a private combat, forbidden by *the laws. 2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost importance to them in various views. 3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors; who, in case of accident to me, by the forced sale of my propert}r, may be in some degree sufferers. I did not think myself at liberty, as a man of probity, lightly to expose thereto his hazard. 4. lam conscious of no ill will to colonel Burr, distinct from politi cal opposition, which, as I trust, has proceeded from pure and upright motives. Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain nothing by the issue of the interview. But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid it. There were intrinsic difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrassments from the manner of proceeding on the part of colonel Burr. Intrinsic, because it is not to be denied that my animadversions on the political principles, character and views of colonel Burr, have been extremely severe; and on different occasions I, in common with many others, have made very unfavorable criticisms on particular instances of the private conduct of this gentleman. In proportion as these impressions were entertained with sincerity, and uttered with motives, and for purposes which might appear to me commendable, would be the difficulty (until they could be removed by evidence of their being erroneous), of explanation or apology. The disavowal required of me by colonel Burr, in a general and indefinite 576 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. . form, was out of my power, if it had been really proper for me lo sub mit to be so questioned; but I was sincerely of opinion that this could not be, and in this .opinion I was confirmed by that ofa very mo derate and judicious friend whom 1 consulted. Besides that, colonel Burr appeared to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessarily peremptory and menacing; and in the second, positively offensive." Yet I wished,' as far as might be practicable, to leave a door open to accommodation. This, I think, will be inferred, from the written com munications made by me, and by my direction, and would be con firmed by the conversations between Mr, Van Ness and myself, which arose out of the subject. I am not sure whether, under all the circumstances, I did not go fur ther in the attempt to accommodate, than a punctilious delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the motives I have stated will excuse me. It is not my design, by what I have said, to affix any odium on the conduct of colonel Burr, in this case.* He doubtless has heard of ani madversions of mine which bore very hard upon him; and it is pro bable that, as usual, they were accompanied with some falsehoods. He may have supposed himself under a necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience, I trust at the same time, that the world will do ms the justice to be lieve that I have not censured him on light grounds, nor from unwor thy inducements. I certainly have had strong reasons for what I have said, though it is possible that, in some particulars, I may have been in fluenced by misconstruction or misinformation. It is also my ardent wish that I may havo been more mistaken than I think I have been, and that he, by his future conduct, may show, himself worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing to the country. As well because it is possible that I may have injured colonel Burr, however, convinced myself that my opinions and declarations have been well founded, as from my general principles and temper in rela tion to similar affairs, I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even of re serving my second fire— and thus giving a double opportunity to colo nel Burr to pause and to reflect. It is not, however, my intention to enter into any explanation on the ground — apology from principle, I hope, rather than pride, is out of the question . SAMUEL ADAMS. 577 To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, may think that I ought on no account to have added to the number of bad examples, I answer, that my relative situation, as well in public as in private, enforcing all the considerations which constitute what men of • the world denominate honor, imposed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity not to decline the call. The ability 1p be in future useful, ' whether in resisting mischief or effecting good, in those crisis of our public affairs which seem likely to happen, would probably be insepa rable from a conformity with public prejudice in this peculiar.* A. H. SAMUEL ADAMS. Samuel Abams, the subject of this memoir, was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on the 22d day of September, 1722. The respectable family from which he descended, was one amongt hose which early emi grated and settled in New-England. His father, during many years, held the commission of justice of the peace, and was one of the board of selectmen of Boston; and was annually chosen a representative of that town, in the Massachusetts house of assembly during a long peri od under the colonial government. He was possessed of considerable wealth; and having resolved to give his son a public education, he placed him under the tuition of Mr. Lovell, at that time a celebrated teacher of a grammar school in Boston, to prepare him for admission to Harvard University. He was received a member of that literary institution at an early age, and took his degree of A. B. in 1740; and in two years after, received his second degree. He was an uncom monly sedate youth; and both in the preparatory school and through out his collegiate term, he was remarkable for his assiduity in attend ing to his studies, and for punctuality in performing his collegiate duties. The tendency of his reflections at that early age, may be inferred from tbe question which he proposed for discussion when be took his second degree. It was this, whether it be lawful to resist the supreme magistrate, if the commonwealth cannot be otherwise preserved. He *Vide Facts and Documents relative to general Hamilton. 578 SAMUEL .ADAMS. adopted and defended the affirmative of the proposition; and in his- manner of sustaining it, at that early age, evinced a decided attach ment to the liberties of (he people. He also; practised a very commendable frugality from early life. For being allowed a regular and fixed stipend by his father, without incurring the sneers pr reproaches of his comrades, he saved from his paternal allowance a sum sufficient to defray the expense of publishing a pamphlet, entitled "Englishmen's Rights." His father intended to haVe him educated for the profession of law. Whether at his own instance, is not known ; but it was relinquished by his father, and he was put an apprentice to Thomas Cushing, a dis tinguished merchant of Boston, to qualify him for mercantile pursuits. He seems, however, not to have been partial to that business, for which his feelings were but ill adapted. Politics' had engaged bis thoughts even before he left college; and to the study of them he devoted much of his attention. For mutual benefit, he with several associates, pos sessed of kindred feelings formed a club, which often met for political discussion, and to furnish each in his turn, an essay to be published in the Independent Advertiser. The general character of those essays may be presumed from the title of the gazette in which they were pub lished; and by means of them, the writers, byway of derision, in curred the nick-name of the Whipping Club. His father gave him a considerable capital to commence business as a merchant. But having devoted his attention, during his apprentice ship, more to politics than to the object of his immediate pursuit, he was but indifferently qualified to manage a mercantile establishment- His success was therefore such as might have been anticipated. By imprudence in trusting others with property, and remissness in at tending to a business which never much engrossed his affections, his affairs soon became embarrassed, and at no very distant period, so ef fectually deranged, that he became completely reduced. When he was about twenty-five, his father died, and he, being the eld est son, was left with the care of the family. And on him also, de volved the management of the estate left by his deceased parent. His slight attention to business, and his predominating regard to politics, but poorly qualified him for a careful discharge of the duties which his situation demanded. His attention was bestowed continually on the proceedings of the parental government, that he might detect every beginning encroachment on the rights of , the colonists. And he em ployed much time, both in writing, and in conversing with others, en deavoring to excite in them a similar vigilance. In this he was inde- SAMUEL ADAMS. 579 'fatigable. He was always on the popular side; hence, in a later pe riod, when the aspect ofthe times became more threatening, and the interests of the people more endangered by the projects and measures of the British parliament, he was always put forward by his fellow- citizens, to oppose them, as their prime leader. In 1763, it was announced, that the British ministry had in view to "tax the colonies, for the purpose of raising a revenue, which was to be placed at. the disposal of the crown." ..This news filled the colonies with alarm. In Massachusetts, a committee was appointed b)- the peo ple of Boston to express the public sentiment in relation to this con templated measure, for the guidance of the representatives to the gen eral court. The instructions of this committee, were drawn by Mr. Adams. They formed, in truth, a powerful remonstrance against the injustice of the contemplated .system of taxation; and they merit the more particular notice, as they Were the first recorded public document, which denied the right of taxation to the British parliament. They also contained the first suggestion ofthe propriety of that mutual un derstanding and correspondence among the colonies, which laid the foundation of their future confederacy. Ia these instructions, after alluding lo the evils which had resulted from the acts of the British parliament, relating to trade, Mr. Adams observes: — "If our trade may be taxed, why not our lands? Why not.the produce of our lands, and every thing we possess, or use? This we conceive annihilates our charter rights to govern and tax ourselves. It strikes at our Bri tish privileges, which, as we have never forfeited, we hold in common with our fellow subjects, who are natives of Brilian. If taxes are •laid upon us in any shape, without our having a legal representation where they are laid, we are reduced from the character of free sub jects, to the state of tributary slaves: We, therefore, earnestly re commend it to you, to use your utmost endeavors to obtain from the general court, all necessary advice and instruction to our agent, at this most critical juncture." We also desire you to use your endeavors that the other colonies, having the same interests and rights with us may add their weight to that of this province, that by united applica tion of all who are agreed, all may obtain redress?" The deep interest which Mr. Adams felt and manifested for tbe rights of the colonies, soon brought him into favor with the patriotic party. He became a leader in their popular assemblies, and was bold in denouncing the unjust acts ofthe British ministry. In 1765, he was elected a representative to the general court of Massachusetts, from tlie town of Boston. From this period, during 580 SAMUEL ADAMS. the whole revolutionary struggle, he was the bold, persevering, and efficient supporter of the rights of his oppressed country. As a mem ber of the eourt, he soon became conspicuous, and was honored with the office of clerk to that body. In the legislature, he was character ised for the same activity and boldness which he had manifested in the town. He was appointed upon almost every committee, assisted in drawing nearly every report, and exercised a large share of influence in almost every meeting, which had for its object the counteraction of the unjust plans ofthe administration. But it was not in his legislative capacity alone, that Mr. Adams ex hibited his hostility to the British government, and his regard for ra tional freedom. Several able essays on these subjects were published by him ; and he was the author of several plans of opposing, more successfully, the unjust designs of the mother country. He has the honor of having suggested the first congress. at New- York, which pre pared the way for a continental congress, ten years after; and at length for the union and confederacy ofthe colonies. The injudicious management of his private affairs, already alluded to, rendered Mr. Adams poor. When this was known in England, the parti sans of the ministry proposed to bribe him, by the gift of some lucra tive office. A suggestion of this kind was accordingly made to go vernor Hutchinson, to which he replied in a manner highly compli mentary to the integrity of Mr. Adams. "Such is the obstinacy and inflexible disposition of the man, that he never can be conciliated by any office or gift whatever." The offer, however, it is reported, was actually made to Mr. Adams, but neither the allurements of fortune or power could for a moment tempt him to abandon the cause of truth, or • to hazard the liberties of the people. He was indeed poor; but he could be tempted neither by British gold, nor by the honors or profits of an office within the gift of the royal governor. Such patriotism has not been common in the world; but in America it was to be found in many a bosom, during the revolu tionary struggle. The knowledge of facts like this, greatly dimin ished the wonder, which has sometimes been expressed, that America should have successfully contended with Great Britain. Her physical strength was comparatively weak ; but the moral courage of her states men, and her soldiers, was to her instead of numbers, of wealth, and fortifications. Allusion has been made, both in our introduction, and in our notice of Hancock, to the Boston massacre, in 1770, an event which will long reman memorable in the annals ofthe revolution, not only as it SAMUEL ADAMS. 581 was the first instance of bloodshed between the British and the Ame ricans, but as U conduced to increase the irritation, and to widen the breach between the two countries. Our limits forbid a more particular account of this tragical affair; and it is again alluded to only for the purpose of bringing more distinctly into view, the intrepid and decisive conduct of Samuel Adams on that occasion. On the mornipg following this night of bloodshed, a meeting of the citizens of Boston was called. Mingled emotions of horror and indig. nation pervaded the assembly. Samuel Adams first arose to address the listening multitude. Few men could harangue a popular assem bly with greater energy, or exercise a more absolute control over their passions and affections. On that occasion, a Demosthenes, or a Cha tham, could scarcely have addressed the assembled multitude with a more impressive eloquence, or have represented in a more just and em- r phatic manner, the fearful crisis to which the affairs of the colonies were fast tending. A- committee was unanimously chosen to wait upon governor Hutchinson, with a request that the troops might be im mediately removed from the town. To the request of this committee the governor, with his usual prevarication, replied, that the troops were not subject to his order. Mr. Adams, who was one of this committee, strongly' represented to the governor thedahger of retaining the troops longer inthe capital. His indignation wa3 aroused, and in a tone of loftylndependence, he declared, that the removal of the troops would alone satisfy his insulted and indignant townsmen; it was, therefore, at the governor's peril, that they were continued in the town, and that he alone must be answerable for the fatal consequences, which it re quired no gift of prophecy to predict must ensue. It was now dark. The meeting of the citizens was still undis- ' solved. The greatest anxiety pervaded the assembly, and scarcely were they restrained from going in a body to the governor, tp learn his determination. Aware ol the critical posture of aiairs, aware of the personal hazard which he encountered by refusing a compliance, the governor at length gave his consent to tho removal of the troops, and stipulated that the necessary preparations should commence on the following morning. Thus, through the decisivo and spirited con duct of Samuel Adams, and a few other kindred spirits, the obstinacy of a royal governor was subdued, and further hostilities were for a still longer time suspended. Tho popularity and influence of Mr. Adarns were rapidly increa sing, and the importance of his being detached from the popular party 74 582 SAMUEL ADAMS. became every day more manifest. We have already noticed the sug gestion to gwernor Hutchinson to effjct tnis, by the gift of some lu crative office. Other offers of a similar kind, it is reported, were made to him, at different tim;^, by ths royal authorities, but with the same ill success. About the year 1773, governor Gage renewed the experi ment. At that time colonel Fenton was requested to wait upon Mr. Adams, with the assurance of governor Gigs, that any beoefis would be conferred upon him which he should demand, on fhe condition of his ceasing to opposo ths measures of the royal government. At the samp time, it was not obscurely hinted, that sw:h a measure was ne cessary, on personal considerations. He had- incurred the royal dis pleasure, arid already, such had been his conduct, that it was in the powercf the governor to send him to England for trial, on a charge of treason. It was suggested that a change ia his p-ly :al conduct, might save him from this disgrace, and even from a severer fate; and might elevate him, moreover, from his circumstances of indigence, to tha en joyment of affluence. To this proposal, Mr. Adams listened with attention; but as colonel Fenton concluded his communication, with all the spirit cf a man of honor, wish all the integrity of the most incorrupted and incorruptible patriotism, he replied; "go tell governor Gage, that my peace has long since been made with the King of kings, and lhat it is the advice of Samuel Adams to him, no longer to insult the feelings of an already exasperated people.'" The independence and sterling integrity of Mr. Adams, might well have secured to him the respect, and even confidence of governor Gage; but with far different feelings did he regard the notle conduct cf this high minded patrit. Under the irritation excited by the failure of a favorite plan, governor Gage issued -a prod imatio.i, which com prehended the following language: "I dohsrebv," he saii, "in his majssty's .name, offer and promise his most gracious pardon to all per sons, who shall forthwi.h lay down their arais, and return to the duties of peaceable subjects: excepting only from the tenefits of sui*h par don, Samuel Adams and John Haxcock, whose offences are of too flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration but that of con dign punishment." Thus these independent men were singled out as the objects of pe culiar vengeance, and even their lives endangered, for honorably re sisting a temptation, to which, had they yielded, they would have meri ted the reproach of their countryman, and the soorn of the world. Mr. Adams was a member of the first continental congress, which SAMUEL ADAMS. # assembled in Philadelphia on tho 5th of September, 1774; and contin ued a member of that tody untinhe year 1781. During this period, no delegate acted a more conspieuous or manly part. No ona -exhibi ted a more indefati^ab c zeal, cr a firmer (one of character. He early saw that the contest wo dd probably not be decided without bloodshed.: He was hiuuelf prepared for every extremity, and was wi ling that sich measires should Le adapted, as should lead to an early issue of the controversy. Ho was accordingly among the warmest advocates for the declaration of American independence. In his view, the die was cas', and a fur her friendly connexion with the parent country was impossible. "I am perfectly satisfied," said he, in a letter written from Philadilj.hiaj.to a friend in Massachusetts, in April, 1776, "of tho necessity of a pub. is and explicit declaration of independence. I can not conceive what goad reason can be assigned against it. Will it wi den the breach? This would be a strange question, after we have raised armies, and fought battles wi h the British troops; set up an American nav\ ; permitted the inhabitants of thess colonies to fit out armeJ vessels, to capture the ships, &.c, belonging to any of the inha bitants of Great Britain; Gesturing them the enemies of the United colonies; and lorn into shivers the'ir acts of trade, by allowing com merce, subj ect to regulations to be made by ourselves, with tho paople of all countries, except such as are subject to ihaf British king. It cannot surely, after all this, be imagined that we consiier ourselves, or mean to be considered by others, in any other state, than that of in dependence." The independence of America was at length declared, and gave a new political character, and an immediate dignity to the cause of the colonies. Bat hotwi hstanding this measure might itsaif bear the as- ¦ . pL-ct of victory, a formidable contest yet awaited the Americans The yeir following tha declaration of independence, the situation of the colonies w^is* exlreinely gloomy. The stoutest hearts trembled within them, and even dojl.ts were exp-essed, whether the measures which Ind hee.i adopted, particularly the declaration cf independence, were not proci;:ia>e. Tne neighborhood cf Philadelphia becams the seat of war; co igress, now red nce.l to only twanty-eijht members, had rasulved to re:no,e th«ir s.issi jn to Lancaster. At this cri.ical period, Mn Adams accidentally fell in company wi.h sevural o.hsr members, by whom.ihe subject of the state of the country was freely and confi dentially discussed. Gloomy forebodings seemed to pervade their minds, and the greatest anxiety was expressed as to the issue of the contest. 584 m SAMUEL ADAMS. To this conversation, Mr. Adams listened with silenf attention. At length he expressed hrsysurprise, that such desponding feelings should bave settled upon theirhearts, and such desponding language should be even confidentially uttered by their lips. To this it was answered, "the chances desperate." "Indeed, indeed, it is desperate," said Mr. Adams, "if this be our language. If we wear long' faces, others will do so too; if we despair, let us not expect that others will hope; or that they will persevere in a contest, from which their leaders shrink. But let not such feelings, let not such language, be ours." Thus while the hearts of others were ready to faint, Samuel Adams maintained his usual firmness. His unshaken courage, and his calm reliance upon the aid and protection pf heaven, contributed in an eminent de gree to inspire his countrymen with a confidence of their final success. A higher encomium could not have been bestowed on any member of the continental congress, than is expressed in relation to Mr. Adams by Mr. Galloway, in his historical and political reflections on. the rise and progress of the American rebellion, published in Great Britain, 1780. "He eats little," says the author, "drinks little, sleeps little, thinks much, and is most indfatigable in the pursuit of bis object. It was this man, who by his superior application, managed at once the factions in congress at Philadelphia, and the factions of New-England." In 1781, Mr. Adams retired from congress ; but it was to receive from his native state, additional proofs of her high estimation of his services, and of the confidence which she reposed in his talents and integrity. He had already been an active member of the convention that formed her constitution , and after it went into, effect, he was placed in the senate of the state, and-for several years presided over that body. In 1789, he was elected lieutenant-governor, and held that office till 1794; when, upon the death of Hancock, he was chosen go vernor, and was annually re-elected iill 1797, when he retired from public life,- This retirement, however, he did not long enjoy, as his death occurred on October 2d, 1803, at the advanced age of 82. From the foregoing sketches of Mr. Adams, it will not be difficult for the reader to form a tolerably correct opinion of his character and disposition. In his person, he is said to have been only of the mid dle size, but' his countenance indicated a noble genius within, and a more than ordinary inflexibility of character and purpose. Great sin cerity and simplicity marked his manners and deportment. In his conversation, he was at once interesting and instructive; and those who shared his friendship had seldom any reason to doubt his affection and constancy. His writings were voluminous, but unfortunately, as RICHARD HENRY LEE. 585 they generally related to the temporary politics of the day, most of them are lost. Those which remain, furnish abundant proof of his su periority as a writer, of the soundness e£ his political creed, and of the piety and sincerity of his character. As an orator, he was emi nently fitted for the stormy times in which he lived. His elocution was concise and impressive, partaking more of the logical than the figurative, and rather calculated to enlighten the understanding, than to excite the feelings. Yet no man could address himself more pow erfully to the passions, than he did, on certain occasions. As a states man, his views were broad and enlightened; what his judgment had once matured, he pursued with Inflexible firmness, and patriotic ardor. While others desponded, he was full of hope; where others hesitated, he was resolute; where others were supine, he was eager for action. His circumstances of indigence led him to habits of simplicity and frugality; but beyond this, he was naturally averse to parade and os tentation. "Mr. Adams was a christian. *His mind was early imbued with piety, as well as cultivated by science. He early approached the table of the Lord Jesus, and the purity of his life witnessed the sincerity of his profession. On the christian Sabbath he constantly went to the temple, and the morning and evening devotions in his family proved, that his religion attended him in his seasons of retirement. RICHARD HENRY LEE. Richard Henry Lee, a descendant from an ancient and distin guished family in Virginia, was born in Westmoreland county, of that province, on the twentieth of January, 1732. As the schools of the country for many years furnished but few advantages for an Education , those who were able to meet the expense, were accustomed to send their sons abroad for instruction. At a proper age, young Lee was sent to a flourishing school, then existing at Wakesfield, in the county of Yorkshire, England. The talents which he possessed, industrious ly employed under the guidance of respectable tutors, rendererFhis literary acquisitions easy and rapid ; and in a few years he returned to his native country, with a mind well stored with Scientific and clas sical knowledge. 586 RICHARD HENRY LEE. Forseveral years following his return to Amsrica, he cpnthued his studies wilh persevering industry, greatly adding to his stock of know. ledge which he had gained abroad, by which he was s'.ill more emi nently fitted for the conspicuous part he was des:ined to actia theap- proaching revolutionary struggle of his country. About the year 1757, Mr Lee was called to a seat in the house of burgesses. For several years, however, he made but an indifferent figure, either as an orator or as the bader.of a party, owing, it is said? to a natural diffidence, 'which prevented him from displaying those powers with which he was gified, or exercising that ihflaence to which he was entitled. This impediment, however, was gradually removed, when he rapidly rose into notice, and became conspicuous as a politi cal leader in his country, and highly distinguished for a natural, easyj and at the same time impressive eloquence. In the year 1765, Patrick Henry proposed tha celebrated resolutions against the stamp act. During the debate pn "these resolutions, Mr: Lee arrived at the seat of government, soon after which heectsred wi.h great spirit into the debate, and powerfully assisted in carrying these resolu tions through the- house, in opposition to the timidity of some, and the mistaken judgment of others. The above strong and spirited resolutions served as has already been noticed in a former page, to rouse the energies r f tho Americans, and to concentrate that feeling, which was spending itself without obtain- ingany important object. Not long after the above resolutions were car ried, Mr. Lee presented to his fellow-citizens the plan of an associa tion, the object of which was an effectual, resistance to the aibitary power cf the mother country, which was manifiesting itself in va rious odious forms; and especially in that detesJable measure, the stamp act. The third article of the constitution cf this association wiH show the patriotic and determined spirit which prevailed in Ihe county of Wesimoreland, the people cf which gene all}' 'united i.i the association. "As the stamp act does absolutely direct the pr pcrty of people to be taken from th'e.n, wiiiout their consent, expressed ly their representatives, and as in many cases it deprives tho British American sul ject of his right to be tried by j'iry-, we do determi le, at every haz ard, and paying no regard to death, to exert every faculty to prevent the execution of the stamp act, in every instance within the colony." The influence of this association, and other associations ofa similar kind, rendered the execution of the stamp act difficult, and even im possible. It wasameasure to which the Americans would notsubmit; RICHARD HENRY LEE. 587 and the ministry of Great Britain were reluctantly forced to repeal it. To Mr. Lee, as well as to his countrymen, the removal of the stamp act was an occasion of no small joy; but the clause aceompanyi.ngtha repealing act, which declared (he power of parliament to bind the col onies in all cases whatever, was a dark cloud, which in a measure ob scured the brightness of the prospect aud foreboded an approching storm. In the year 1773, Mr. Lee brought forward in the Virginia house of burgesses, his celebrated plan for the formation of a committee of cor. respandence, whose object was to disseminate information, and to kin dle the flume of lilcrty, throughout the continent; or, in other lan guage, "to watch the conduct.of the British parliament, to spread more widely correct information on topics connected with the interests of the colonies, and to form a closer union of the men of influence in each." The honor of having first established corresponding societies is claimed both by Massachusetts and Virginia; the former placing the merit to the account of her distinguished patriot, Samuel Adams; and the latter assigning it to Richard Henry Lee. It is probable, how ever, that each of these distinguished men are entitled lo equal honor, in respect to originating a plan which contributed more than most others, to a unity of sentiment and harmony of action among the dif- rerent leaders in the respective colonies. Without concert between them, each of these individuals seems to have introduced the plan, about the same period, to the legislatures of their respective colonies. It is certain, however, that ia respeot to Mr. Lee, the plan 'of these corresponding societies was not the result of a few days reflection only. It had occupied his thoughts for several years; had been there form ing and maturing, and, at length, was proposed and adopted, to the in finite advantage of the cause of liberty in the country. Of the distinguished congress which met at Philadelphia in 1774, Mr. Lee was a delegate from Virginia, with Washington and Henry. In the deliberations of this celebrated body, Mr. Lee acted a conspicu ous part, and served on several committees; and to His pen is attribu ted the memorial, which the continental congress authorized, to the people of British America. In the following year, Mr. Lee received tne unanimous suffrage of the district in which he resided to the as sembly of Virginia, by which he was deputed to, represent the colony in the second congress, which was to meet on the tenth of. May of that year. At the same time, he received an expression cf the thanks of the assembly, "for his cheerful undertaking, and faithful discharge of the trust reposed in* him, during the session of the last congress." 588 RICHARD HENRY LEE. On the meeting of this second congress, it was apparent that all hope of peace and reconciliation wifh the mother country was at an end. Indeed, hostilities had actually commenced ; the busy note of prepara tion was heard in all the land. Washington was summoned by the unanimous voice of congress .to the command of the American ar mies; and his commission and instructions it "fell to Mr. Lee to furnish, as the chairman of a committee appointed for that purpose. During the same session, also, he was placed on committees which were ap pointed to the important duties of preparing munitions of war, encour aging the manufacture of saltpetre and arms, and for devising a plan for' the more rapid communication of intelligence throughout the colonies. The period had now arrived, when the thoughts of the American people were turned, in solemn earnest, to the great subject of Ameri can independence. Most of the colonies were already prepared to hail with joy a measure which should declare to the world their determina tion to be accounted a free arid independent people. Most of the pro vincial assemblies had published resolutions in favour of such a declra- tion, and had even instructed their delegates to urge upon congress the importance and necessity of this decisive step. Mr. Lee was selected to move the resolution in congress on this great subject. This he did on the seventh of June, 1776, in the fol lowing words: "That these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are absolved from all alle giance to the British crown ; and that all political connexion between them and the state* of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissol ved." The motion, thus introduced by Mr. Lee, he followed by one of the most luminous and eloquent speeches ever delivered either by himself or any other gentleman on the floor of congress. "Why then, sir," (said he in conclusion,)' "why do we longer delay? Why still delibe rate? Let this happy day give birth to an American republic. Let her arise, not to devastate and to conquer, but to re-establish the reign of peace end of law. The eyes of Europe are fixed upon us; she demands of us a living example of freedom, that may exhibit a con trast in the felicity of the citizen to the ever increasing tyranny which desolates her polluted- shores. She invites us to prepare an asylum, where the unhappy may find a solace, and the persecuted repose. She entreats us to cultivate a propitious soil, where that generous plant which first sprung and grew in England, but is now withered by the poisonous blasts of Scottish tyranny, may revive and flourish, shelter- RICHARD HENRY LEE. 589 ing under its salubrieus and interminable shade, all the unfortunate of the human race. If we are not this day wanting in our duty, the names of the American legislators of 1776, will be placed by poterity at the side of Thesus, Lycurgus fcand Romulus, of the three Williams of Nassau, and of all those whose memory has been, and ever will be, dear to virtuous men and good citizens." The debate on the above motion of Mr. Lee was protracted until the tenth of June, on which day congress resolved : "that the considera tion of the resolution respecting independence be postponed till the first Monday of July next; and, in the mean while, that nstime be lost, in case the congress agree thereto, that a committee be appointed to pre pare a declaration to the effect of the said resolution." On the day on which this resolution was taken, Mr. Lee was unex pectedly summoned to attend upon his family in Virginia, some of the members of which were at that time dangerously ill. As the mover of the original resolution for independence, it would, according to par liamentary usage, have devolved upon Mr. Lee to have been appointed chairman of the committee selected to prepare a declaration, and as chairman to have furnished that important document. In the absence of Mr. Lee, however, Mr. Jefferson was elected to that honor, by whom it was drawn up with singular energy of style and argument. In the following month, Mr. Lee resumed his seat in congress, in which body he continued till June, 1777, during which period he con tinued the same round of active exertions for the welfare of his coun try. It was his fortune, however, as well as the fortune of others, to have enemies, who charged him with disaffection to his country, and attachment to Great Britain. The ground upon which this charge was made, was, that contrary to his former practice, previously to the war, he received the rents of his tenants in the produce of their farms, in stead of colonial money, which had now become greatly depreciated. This accusation, thoughaltogether unjust, and unwarrantable, at length gained so much credit, that the name of Mr. Lee was omitted by the assembly, in their list of delegates to congress. This gave him an opportunity and furnished him with a motive, to demand of the assem bly anent[uiry into the nature ofthe allegations against him. The en quiry resulted in an entire acquittal, and in an expression of thank» to Mr. Lee, which was conveyed, on the part cf the house, by their speaker, Mr. Wythe, in the following language; — "It is with peculiar ' * pleasure, sir, that I obey this command of the house, because it gives me an opportunity, while I am performing an act of duty to them, to perform an act 6f justice to ypurself. Serving with yeu in congress, 75 590 RICHARD HENRY LEE. and attentively observing your conduct there, I thought that you man ifested, in the American cause, a zeal truly patriotic; and as far as I could judge, exerted the abilities for which you are confessedly distin guished, to promote the good and prosperity of your own country in particular, and the United States in general. That the tribute of praise deserved, may reward those who do well, and encourage others to fol low your example, the house have come to this resolution: that the thanks of this house be given by the speaker to Richard Henry Lee, for the faithful services he has rendered his country, in discharge of his duty, as one of the delegates from this state in general congress." At a subsequent period, Mr. Lee was again elected a delegate to congress; but during the session of 1778 and 1779, in consequence of ill health, he was obliged frequently to absent himself from the' ardu ous duties which devolved upon him, and which he could no longer sustain. From this time, until 1784, Mr. Lee declined accepting a seat in congress, from a belief that he might be more useful to his na tive state by holding a seat in her assembly- In this latter year, how ever, the people of Virginia again honored him, by appointing him one of her representatives to congress, of which body. he was unanimous ly elected president. In this exalted station he presided with great ability ; and on the expiration of his time of service, he received the thanks of congress for his able and faithful discharge of the duties of president, while acting in that station." To the adoption of the federal constitution without amendment, al though not a member of the convention which discussed its merits, he was strongly opposed. The tendency of the constitution, he apprehen ded, was to consolidation. To guard against this, it was his wish that the respective states should impart to the federal head only so much power as was necessary for mutual safety and happiness. Under the new constitution, Mr. Lee was appointed the first senator from Virginia, in the exercise of which office, he offered several amendments to the constitution, from the adoption of which he hoped to lessen tbe danger to the country, which he had apprehended. About the year 1792, Mr. Lee, enfeebled by his long attention to public duties, and by the infirmities ofage, retired to the enjoyment of his family and friend?. Not long after, he had the pleasure of receiv ing from the senate and house of delegates of Virginia, the following unanimous vote of thanks: "Resolved, unanimously, that the speaker be desired to convey to Richard Henry Lee, the respects of the senate ; that they sincerely sympathixe with him in thses infirmities, which have deprived their country of his valuable services; and that they RICHARD HENRY LEE. 591 ardently wish he may, in his retirement, with uninterrupted happiness, close the evening of a life, in which he hath so conspicuously shone forth as a statesman and a patriot; that while mindful of his many ex ertions to promote the public interests, they are particularly thankful for his conduct as a member of the legislature of the United States." The following quotation from Sanderson's Biography, is too beauti ful, and too just, not to merit an insertion in this history: — "The preceding sketch may give some idea of the public services ; of Mr. Les; but who can depict him in that sphere of which he was tbe centre? giving ligfit and happiness to all around him; possessing all the enjoyment which springs from virtue, unblemished fame, bloom ing honors, ardent friendship, eloquence of taste, and a highly cul tivated mind. His hospitable door was open to all ;' the poor and the distressed frequented it for relief and consolation; the young, for instruction; the old, for happiness; while a numerous family of chil dren, the offspring of two marriages, clustered around, and clung to each other in fond affection; imbibing the wisdom of their father, while they were animated and delighted, by the amiable serenity and captivating graces of his conversation. The necessities of his coun try occasioned frequent absences; but every return to his home was celebrated by the people, as a festival ; for he was their physician, their counsellor, and the arbiter of their differences; the medicines wliich he imported, were carefully and judiciously dispensed^ and the equity of his decisions was never controverted by a court of law." And, to give a finishing polish to this beautiful portrait of this es timable man, it may be added, that he was a professed believer in the Christian religion ; and this avowal of bis faith was made amid the ac cumulated honors of the world, which were lavishly bestowed on him, with sincere good will, and in the full and unclouded exercise of his vigorous mind. This highly honored and distinguished man, and eminent benefac tor of his country, closed his useful life, at Chantilly, in the county of Westmoreland, in Virginia, en the nineteenth day ef June, 1794, in the sixty-fourth year ef his age. LIFE AND CHARACTER OP BENEDICT ARNOLD. TOGETHER WITH THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE CAPTURE, TRIAL AND EXECUTION, OF MAJOR ANDRE. One of the most remarkable facts connected with the history of the American revolution, was the steady adherenceto their country's in terests manifested by all those whom she entrusted with important sta tions. Neither fear, nor the temptations of wealth, nor the love of honor and distinction could induce them to betray the cause of, their country into the hands ofa foreigD power. All were tamppered with at different times, and all as firmly and nobly resisted. "I am poor, very poor," exclaimed one of these incorruptible patriots in answer to the splendid offers of a British agent, "but the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to buy me." This was the noble sentiment which ac- tuatedjhem alj. From Washington down to the private soldier in the army-^-from Hancock through all the members of the old congress, "one spirit in them breathed :" and that was an ardent love of country and an unconquerable determination to# achieve its independence or perish. During the gloomiest scenes of the war, and even while Washington was making his disastrous retreat through the Jerseys, and the enemy were in possession of Philadelphia, no one thought of deserting that sacred cause to which they had pledged their "lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor." To this statement there is only one memorable exception, and that is found in the person of him whose life and character is given in the fol lowing pages : Benedict Arnold, a major-general in the American army during the revolutionary war, was early chosen captain of a volunteer com pany, in New-Haven, Connecticut, where he lived. After hearing of the battle of Lexington, he immediately marched with his company for the American head quarters, and reached Cambridge, April 29, 1775. "He immediately waited on the Massachusetts committee of safety, and informed them ofthe defenceless state of Ticonderoga. The com mittee appointed him a colonel, and commissioned him to raise four hundred men, and to take that fortress. He proceeded directly to Vermont, and when he arrived at Castleton, was attended by one ser vant only. Here he joined colonel Allen, and on the tenth of May, the fortress was taken. "In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander-in-chief to pen etrate through the wilderness of the district of Maine, into Canada. On the 16th of September, he commenced his march, with about one BENEDICT ARNOLD. 593 thousand men, consisting of New-England infantry, some volunteers, a company of artillery, and three companies of riflemenj One divi sion was obliged to return, or it would have perished by hunger. After sustaining almost incredible hardships, he in six weeks arrived at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec. The appearance cf an army emer ging from the wilderness, threw the city into the greatest consterna tion. In this moment of surprise, Arnold might probably have become master of the place; but the small crafts and boats in the river were removed out of his reach. "It seems that his approach was not altogether unexpected. He had, imprudently, a number of days before, sent forward a letter to a friend by an Indian, who betrayed him. A delay of several days, on account of the difficulty of passing the river, was inevitable ; and the critical moment was lost. "On the 14th of November he crossed the St. Lawrence in the night; and ascending the precipice which Wolfe had climbed before him, formed his small corps on the height near the memorable Plains of Abraham. With only about seven hundred men, one-third of whose muskets had been rendered useless in their march through the wilder ness, success could not be expected. After parading some days on the heights near the town, and sending two flags to summon the inha bitants, he retired to Point-aux-Trembies, twenty miles above Quebec, and there awaited the arrival of Montgomery, who joined him on the 1st of December. The city was immediately besieged, but the best measures had been taken for its defence. On the morning of the last day of the year, an assault was made on the one side of the city by Montgomery who was killed. At the same time, colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred and fifty men, made a desperate at tack on the opposite side. Advancing with the utmost intrepidity along the St. Charles, through a narrow path, exposed to an incessant fire "of grape-shot and musketry, as he approached the first barrier, he received a musket-ball in the leg, which shattered the bone: and he was carried off to the camp. Though the attack was unsuccessful, the blockade of Quebec was continued till May, 1776 j when the army, which was in no condition to risk an assault, was removed to a more defensible position. Arnold was compelled to relinquish one post al ter another, tilj the 18th of June, when he quitted Canada. After this period he exhibited great bravery in the command of the Ameri can fleet on Lake Champlain. "In August, 1777, he relieved Fort Schuyler, under the command of colonel Gansevoort, which was invested by colonel St. Leger, with an army of from fifteen to eighteen hundred men. In the battle near Stillwater, September the 19th, he conducted himself with his usual intrepidity, being engaged incessantly for four hours. In the action of Oclober the 7th, after the British had been driven into their lines, Ar nold pressed forward, and, under a tremendous fire, assaulted the works throughout their whole extent, from right to left. The entrenchments were at length forced, and with a few men he actually entered the works; but his horse being kijled, and he himself badly wounded in 594 benedict arnold. the leg, he found it necessary to withdraw, and as it was now almost dark, to desist from the attack. '?Being rendered unfit for active service, in consequence of his wound, after (he recovery of Philadelphia, he was appointed to the command of the American garrison. When he entered the city, he made the house of governor Penn, the best house in the city, his head quarters. This he furnished in a very costly manner, and lived- far beyond his income. One of the many and often-trodden paths which are on "the broad way that leadeth to destruction," is called the path of pleasure; ils allurements are gay and powerful, and' whoever enters that path, either in youth or manhood, loses his moral courage, and submits his mind to giddy deceptions; so that it would be a vain boast to call himself a freeman. Arnold, who had toiled through dangers, and fought for liberty with bravery and ardor, entered that delusive path, and soon became the slave of its weakening influence. While his former companions in the field of battle were persevering courageously in the defence of their country, and suffering from the want of food and clothing, he was engaged" in mirthful revelries, and was wasting a fortune in the gratification of idle vanity. He became involved in debt; and then dishonestly used every means within his power, to get possession of the property of others. His ill conduct was at length made known to congress, and they ap pointed a court of officers of the army to examine the charges brought against him. "From the judgment of commissioners who had been appointed tp inspect his accounts, and who had rejected above half the amount of his demands, he appealed to congress, and they appointed a committee of their own body to examine and settle the business. The committee confirmed the report of the commissioners, and thought they had al lowed him more than he had any right to expect or demand. By these disappointments he became irritated, and he gave full scope to his re sentment. His invectives against congress were not less violent thap those which he had before thrown out against the commissioners. He was, however, sion obliged to abide the judgment of a court-martial, upon the charges exhibited against him by the executive of Pennsyl vania; and lis was subjected to the mortification of receiving a repri mand from Washington. Ili's trial commenced ia June, 1778, but such were the delays, occasioned by the movements of the army, that it was not concluded until the 26th of January, 1779. The sentence of a reprimand was approved by congress,.and was soon afterward car ried into execution. "Such was the humiliation to which general Arnold was reduced, in consequence of yielding to the temptations of pride and vanity, and indulging himself in the pleasures of a sumptuous table and expensive equipage. "From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted from the cause of America. He turned his eyes to West Point as an acquisition which would give value to treason, whilo its loss would inflict a mor tal wound on his former friends. He addressed himself to the delega tion pf New-York, in which state his reputation was peculiarly high; BENEDICT A EN OLD. 595 and a member of congress from this state recommended him to Wash ington for theservice which he desired. But this request could not be immediately complied with. The same application to the command er-in-chief was made not 1< ng afterward through general Schuyler. Washington observed, that as there was a prospect of an acthe cam paign, he should be gratified with the aid of general Arnold in the fie;d; but intimated, at the same lime, that he should receive the ap pointment requested, 'if it should be more pleasing to him. "Arnold, without discovering much so.icitude, repaired to camp in the beginning of August, and renewed in person, the solicitations which had been tet'ore indirectly made. He was now offered the command ef the left wing of the army, which was advancing against New-York; but he declined it, under the pretext that, in consequei.ee of his wounds, he was unable to perform the active duties of the field. Wi.hout a suspicion of his patriotism, he was invested with the command of West Point. Previously to bis soliciting this station, he had, in a letter to colonel Robinson, signified his change of principles, and his wish to restore himself to the favor of his prince by some signal proof of his repentance. This letter opsned, to him a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, the object of which was to oncert the means of put ting the important post which he commanded into the possession of the British general. The well known object of Arnold's negotiation was to put Clinton in possession of the post at West Point. This is a beautiful little plain, lying on the west bank of the Hudson, a liitie below where it breaks through the chain of mountains called the Highlands. Its form is nearly circular; in one half of its circumference defended by a pre cipice of great height, rising abruptly from the river; and on the oth er, by a chain of rugged impassable mountains. It is accessible by one pass only from the river, and that is narrow and easily defended; while, on the land side, it can be approached only at two points, by roads that wind through the mountains, and enter it at the river bank, on 'he north and south. Great importance had always jbeen attached to this post by the Ameri cans, and great labor and expense bestowed upon fortifying it; whether judiciously or to good effect, has never been tested. But the place is nat urally, scarcely assailable, very healthy, and commands ihe river, through out along circuit that it stretches round the point, and where it is deep and very narrow. "His plan, it is believed, was to have drawn the greater part of his'ar- niy without the works, under the pretext of fighting the enemy in the defiles, and to have left unguarded a designated pass, through which the assailants might securely approach and surprise the fortress. His troops he intended to place so that tbey would be compelled to'surrender or be cut in pieces. But just as his scheme was ripe for execution, the wise Dispo- per of events, who so often and so remarkably interposed in favor of the American cause, blasted his designs. When he went to West Point, he Wrote to Sir Henry that he would manage the troops stationed there so, that he might, on attacking them, readily make them his prisoners, or else entirely destroy them.^ The En glish general must have despised and distrusted the traitor, and he ought to have scorned the proposal of using such cowardly means for subduing 596 BENEDICT ARNOLD. the Americans; but to get possession of West Point was so desirable, that he gladly received the base offer, and said he would appoint an officer to , correspond with Arnold on the subject. The officer chosen for this degrading duty was major Andre. He was young, and had been expensively educated, and was admired for the at tainments of his mind, and his disposition was so frank and amiable, that he was esteemed by all who became acquainted with him. As an officer he was brave and faithful, and was a favorite in the army. His friends were strongly and tenderly attached to him, and felt a perfect confidence in the strength of his virtuous principles. But the foundation of those principles was a wrong one; they were placed on the duty which he owed to men, and not on that which he owed to God. When Sir Henry Clinton informed him of the employment he intended to give him, he consented to take a part in deception and treachery, and by doing so, lost his claim to integrity of mind. Several letters passed between Arnold and Andre, signed by the names of Gustavus and Anderson; but the plan ,of treason could not be safely un derstood, without some conversation on the subject, and Arnold sent a pass, or written permission, for Andre to go in the character of a person on bu siness, past the guards at West Point, to a house near to the out-post, where he promised to meet him; in the pass, he was called John Anderson. An English sloop of war, named the Vulture, was sent up the Hudson to take Andre as near to West Point as possiblp, without the risk of exci ting suspicion. He was rowed in a small boat to the shore, and arrived in safety at thejplace appointed by Arnold, in September. Night was chosen to veil from human eyes the plottings of treachery; but "an All-seeing eye," to which "the darkness is as the noon day," rested on the deluded and erring Andre. And a power, from which no human strength or wis dom can deliver, was preparing a dreadful punishment for his wanderings from the path of virtue. The night was spent in deeply interesting conversation, and the morn ing dawned before all the parts of the dark plot were well understood. Andre could not return to the vessel by the light of day with any hope of safety; and Arnold assured him that he could conceal him until night, and for this purpose took him within the posts, and remained with him all day. The "Vulture had been noticed from the fort and fired on, and the com mander thought it necessary to move to a greater distance down the river. When daylight had again faded from the sky, and the hour of darkness had come, for which no doubt Andre had anxiously watched, he left his place of concealment, and expected to be quickly conveyed to the vessel from which he had come the night before; but it was removed to so great a distance, that he could not prevail on any boatman to take him to it, and Arnold did not dare aid him in persuading them. Sadly perplexed, Andre was obliged at length to determine on passing to rtfew-York by land. This was a perilous attempt; for parties of militia were employed in watching all the roads leading from the Highlands to that city, Arnold insisted on his changing his dress for a plain one, and wrote a pass for him, desiring the guards and militia to "permit John An derson to go to the White Plains, on business of great importance." It is very well known that major Andre was taken near a place called Tarry Town, on the east side of the Hudson, where it forms Haverstraw Bay. Ten years afterwards, the large sycamore near which he was taken, was shown to the traveller; and the incidents at his capture were famil iarly known to, and related by every inhabitant in the village. Paulding, Williams, and Van Wert, who captured him, were poor, but reputable ' men, and exhibited a striking instance of disinterestedness and fidelity. BENEDICT ARNOLD. 597 Andre offered them large bribes, but they were not to be corrupted, and con ducted him a prisoner to colonel Jamieson, who commanded a scouting party on that side of the river. The circumstances attending the capture of Andre are differently rela ted by the different authors who have written" on the American war. They are all correct as far as they go; but being deficient in a few particu lars, excited surprise at the supposed want of self-possession in so brave a man as Andre. The British ariny in New-Ynrk was at that time, sup plied with beef, principally, through the aid of a class of men, who ob tained the appellation of Cowboys/ They were a species of suttlers, or dealers in live stock, who beins well acquainted with the roads and passes, ponetrated into the country, and" either stole or purchased cattle, which they secretly drove into the enemy's lines. Besides watching the move ments of the enemy, one principal object for detaching Jamieson to that quarter was, to check the prosecution of this .trade' or practice. For this purpose, small scouting parties were occasionally pushed beyond the Ame rican posts, to reconnoitre the interjacent country betweep their posts and those of the enemy. And as the cattle taken from the Cowboys, unless stolen, were held to be the prize _of war; and'it was an object with the well affected to suppress a practice which"exposed their stock to depreda tions, small volunteer parties occasionally waylaid the- roads for that pur pose.. Of this description were the captors of Andre; who, after, the fa tigue of prosecuting their enterprise, had seated themselves under this tree, in a situation retired from the view of travellers approaching along the road. It is said that they were engaged in a game at cards, when the tread of Andre's horse attracted their notice. The station they had taken was in view of a point where several roads unite near the village, and Andre, who was visible to the party before they were visible to him,, was-ertgaged in examining a sketch of the route, no doubt to determine which of the roads in his view fie ought to follow. At the first rustling of the leaves made by the motion of the party in am bush, heprecipitately thrust the paper he was examining into his boot, on the opposile-side of his horse from that on which the party appeared. This was noticed by one of theparty, and led to. the examination which pro duced the detection. On being stopped, he resumed his composure, and exhibited the" pass from Arnold, on which he had thus far succeeded in clearing the American posts and patrols; and the party had already released his bridle, when one of them inquired what he had done with the paper he was reading'! An indistinct view of the dangerous dilemma in which the question involved* him, produced in Andre a momentary hesitation; his embarrassment was noticed- by the party, and made them resolve again to . detain him. Knowing that the passfrom Arnold/Would not avail him after the discovery of the contents of his boot, Andre then desired them to tell him truly, whether they were 'from above or bejowV and on their answer ing 'the latter,' which was consistent with the truth in fact, though not in the sense he meant'it, which, was, whether they were whigs or tories; he acknowledged himself to be a British officer/on urgent business, and beg ged them not tn detain him. On their persisting to detain him, the whole extent of his danger burst upon him, and he liberally tried the pursuasive voice of gold. But though he had just witnessed, that one in a much more elevated rank had lent a propitious ear to similar arguments, he found these honest yeomen were not to be corrupted. Until then, ho had learned that it is at last in the integrity of the well-informed yeomanry of a coun try that the strength and security of every free government is to be found. Wo to that government which ever suffers this class of men to remain in ignorance, or be.exposed to corruption! Upon searching the boot in which the paper had been thrust, a plan of 76 59S BENEDICT ARNOLD.. West Point, the strength and disposition of the garrison, and other suspi cious papers were discoyeredj'and Andre was immediately conveyed to the head-quarters of (Colonel Jamieson. By this time, it appears, that Andre had completely recovered his self-possession, if, indeed, he had ever lost ¦it; and he had the ingenuity to play off on Jamieson a ruse de. guerre, to which the partiality of his friends, and the feelings of his admirers, have managed to give a character which it by no means merits. He prevailed on Jamiesbn to despatch a note tp Arnold , informing him that John Anderson (this was Andre's assumed name) was taken. This I has been- construed into a magnanimous effort to save Arnold; whereas it was obviously an ingenious artifice to save himself. And it must have succeeded had not the former, instead of taking the -hint as it was intend ed, verified by his conduct the trite adage, 'there is no faith among the dishonest,' by immediately transferring all his attention *o his own escape. Arnold could easily have despatched an order tp Jamieson to release An dre, or have ' adopted some fiction or plan for getting him into his own hands, for the purpose of giving him his liberty, and thus have escaped with him. Jamieson obviously entertained no suspicion of Arnold, by sending him this message: and by j,he time that elapsed before he forward ed to general Washington the papers found upen Andre', it is clear that he waited for some communication from Arnold, with regard to the future fate of John Anderson. '* While these things were taking place at New- York and West Point, Washington, was absent on a journey to Hartford, Connecticut, on the fol lowing occasion: About the middle of September, the commander-in-chief, attended by generals Lafayette and Rhox', with' a splendid retinue, left the American camp in New-Jersey, and proceeded to Hartford, in Connecticut, for the purpose of holding a conference with t.he commanding officers of the French fleet and army, which had lately arrived at Rhode Island. In tho mean time, the command of the American army devolved on major-gene ral Greene, whose headquarters were at Tappan A week had elapsed since the departure of Washington, and no incident of importance had occurred. Greene had learned, through the medium of his spies, tha^ some secret expedition was on foot, at the city of New- York: but of its nature and direction, he could not obtain the smallest hint. Oa "the ninth day, however, at three o'clock in the morning, an alarm was spread through the American camp; and in a few minutes, all were under arms. A detachment, consisting of two regiments, was immediately or dered to march to West Point, with all possible expedition; and the rest of the troops were directed to hold themselves in readiness to march at a moment's warning. Arnold received Andre's letter about ten o'clock in the morning, while at breakfast. Two of Washington's aids, major Shaw and Dr. M'Henry, had just arrived, and were at breakfast at Arnold's table. His confusion was visible, but no one could divine the cause. Struck with the pressing danger of his situation, momentarily expect^ ing Washington's return from Hartford, the traitor called instantly for a horse. "A horse!" exclaimed he, as he started from the table. "Any one — even if a wagon horse!" He then bade a hasty adieu to his wife, and "enjoined a positive order on the "messenger not to inform any one that he was the bearer of a letter from colonel Jamieson, he repaired to his barge; and ordered the coxswain, with eight oarsmen, to proceed down the river, to the sloop of war Vulture, which no reached in safety, under the protection of a flag, and which im mediately set sail for New-York. BENEDICT ARNOLD. 599, Washington arrived at Arnold's quarters in two hours after the traitor had escaped. Not finding Arnold at home, and being informed that he had gone to West Point, Washington passed over the river to view the works at that post; but not finding Arnold, he returned, in the hope of meeting him af his quarters. But here he was, again disappointed, for no person could account for his- absence. Mrs. Arnold was now in her chamber, in great agitation and distress, deprived of her reason, and Dr. Eustis in attendance. At a lucid inter val, she requested to see Washington; but at the time he reached the cham ber her distraction returned, and she knew him not. He then withdrew, and repah-ing to the dining room, sat down to dinner, but rose soon again with apparent agitation. He then took colone.1 Lamb aside, and expressed to hiin his suspicion that Arnold had deserted to-the enemy. In less than two hours it was ascertained that the conjecture was too well founded; for a despatch arrived from colonel Jamieson, with an account of the capture of Andre, accompanied by his own letter of confession. The prisoner was conducted to West Point, and from thence to head quarters at Tappan, where preparations were made for his trial by a court-martial. Andre disdained defence and prevented the examination of witnesses, by.cpnfessirig the character in which he stood. He was consequently de clared to be,a spy, and condemned to suffer accordingly. Washington approved the sentence, and ordered his execution to take place on the first day of October, at five' o'clock ih the afternoon. In this decision he was warranted by the still existing implication of Other officers in Arnold's conspiracy; by a due regard to puMic opinion; and by real ten derness to the prisoner himself. - " - - '- Oo the first day of October, at the houcappointed, a large concourse of people assembled to witness the execution of the gallant ahd unfortunate young officer. The gallows was erected, and the grave and coffin prepar ed; but a flag of truce arrived with a communication from sir Henry Clin ton, making another and further proposal for the release of major Andre; in consequence of which the execution was postponed until twelve o'clock on the following day. This flag was accompanied by the British general Robertson, with An- iiew Elliott and William Smith, esquires, for the purpose of pleading for the release of major Andre, the royal army being in the greatest affliction on the occasion. But all intercession was furitless; and least of all availed a letter to Washington, of which Robertson was the bearer, from the traitor Arnold, filled with threats of retalaition, and the accountability of Washington for thetorrents of blood that might be spilt, if he should order the execu tion of Andre! It is difficult-to say which created the most astonishment in the breast of Greene — that Arnold should haye the consummate effron tery, tp write such a letter; or that Robertson should consent to be the bearer of it. Nothing, of course, was effected by this interview, and the messengers returned' in despondency to New-York. Andre, in the mean time, during his confinement, trial and condemnation, evinced a composure and dignity of mind, that enlisted the sympathies of all in his favor. Not a murmur escaped him; while the civilities and attentions bestowed on him, were gratefully and politely acknowledged. Having left a mother and two sis ters in England, he was heard to mention them in terms of the tenderest affection; and in his letter to sir Henry Clinton, he recommended them to his particular attention.- We are assured that, though every one acknowledged the policy of the sentence, there was scarcely one that spoke of his approaching fate with- 600 BDNEDICT ARNOLD. out evincing the deepest emotions of sympathy. The principal _guard of-l .ficer, who was constantly in the room with Andre, stales that when the! fatal hour arrived, and the 'prisoner was summoned to attend, he heard and complied without any visible emotion; and while all present were more or less affected, he retained a serene countenance, with calmness and compo sure of' mind. The prisoner walked from the stone house in which he had been con fined, between two subaltern officers, arm in arm. A large detachment of troops was paraded, and an immense concourse of people assembled, to wit ness the awful ceremony. We will give the remaining particulars in the language of Dr. Thacher. "During the solemn march, to fhe fatal spot," says the doctor, "I was. so near as to observe every movement, ahd participate in every emotion, which the melancholy scene was calculated to produce. The eyes of the immense multitude were fixed on the prisoner; who, rising superior to the fears of death, appeared as if conscious of the dignified deportment which he displayed. He betrayed no want of fortitude, but retained a complai sant smile on his countenance, and politely bowed to several gentlemen whom he knew, which was respectfully returned. "It was his earnest desire to be shot, as being themode of death -most conformable to the feelings of a military man, and he indulge^ the hope that his request would be granted. At the moment, therefore, when sud denly he came in view of the gallows, he involuntarily started backward, and made a pause. 'Why this emotion, sir?' said an officer at his side. Instantly recovering his composure, he said-— 'lam reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode.' "While waiting, and standing near the gallows," continues Dr. Thach er, "I observed 'some degree of trepidation; plapinghis foot on a stone, and rolling it over, and choking in his throat, as if attempting to swallow. So soon, however as he perceived that things were in readines, he stepped quick'y into the wagon; and at this moment hp appeared to shrink; but in stantly elevating his head with firmness, he said, 'It will be but a momen tary pang;' and taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, the pro vost, marshall, with one loosely pinioned his arms; arid with the other, the victim, after taking off his hat and stock, bandaged his own eyes, with perfect firmness, which melted the hearts and moistened the cheeks, not only of his servant, but of the throng of spectators. "The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose over his own head, adjusted it to his neck, without the assistance of the awkward executioner. Colonel Scammel now informed him that he had an oppor tunity to' speak if he desired it. Heraised the handkerchief from his eyes and said— "I pray you to bear witness that I meet my fatelike a brave man.' The wagon bpihg now removed from under him, he was suspended, and instantly expired, i Jt proved, indeed, 'but. a momentary pangX "He was dressed in his royal regimentals and boots: and his remains, in the same dress, were placed in an ordinary coffin, and interred at the foot ofthe gallows; and the spot was consecrated by the tears of thousands."* Arnold on "the very day of his escape, wrote tho following letter to Washington: „ , , , T, „ ° "On board the Vulture;* Sept, 25, 1780. "Sie— The heart which is conscious of its own rectitude cannot at tempt to pallifte a step which the world may censure as wrong; I have ever acted from a principb of love to my country, since the commence- ?Spy Unmasked. BENEDICT ARNOLD. 60 1 ment of the present unhappy contest between Creat Britain and the colo nies; the same principle of love to my country actuates my present con duct, however it may appear inconsistent to the world, who very seldom judge right of any man's actions. "I have no favor to ask for myself. I have too often experienced the in gratitude of my country to af.empt it; but from the known humanity -of your excellency, I am induced to ask your protection for Mrs. Arnold trom every insult or injury the mistaken vengeance of my country may expose her to. It ought to fall only on me; , she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is incapable of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her friends in Philadelphia, or to come to me, as she may choose; from your excellency I have na fears on her account, but she may suffer f,om the mistaken fury of the country. "I have to request that the enclosed letter may be delivered to Mrs. Ar nold, and she permitted to write to me. . "I have also to ask that my clothes and baggage, which are of little con sequence, may be sent to me; if required, their value shall be paid in mo ney. "I have the honor to be, &c, "BENDEICT ARNOLD. "His excellency general Washington. "N. B. In justice to the gentlemen of my family, colonel Virrack and major Franks, I think myself in honor bound to declare that they, as well as Joshua Smith, Esq, (who I know are suspected,) are totally ignorant of any transactions of mine, which they had reason to believe were injurious to the public." Mrs. Arnold was conveyed to her husband at New-York, and his clothes and baggage, for which he had written, were transmitted to him. "The following is a concise description of the figures exhibited and pa raded through the streets of the cily of Philadelphia, two or three days af ter the affair : "A stage raised on the body of a cart, on which was an effigy of general Arnold sitting; this was dressed in regimentals, had two faces, emblemati cal of his traitorous conduct, a mask in his left hand, and a letter in his right from Belzebub, telling bun that he had done all the mischief he could do, and now might hang himself. "At the back of the general was a figure of the devil, dressed in black robes, shakins a purse of money at the general's left ear, and in his right hand a pitch-Fork, ready to drive him into hell, as the reward duo for the many crimes which his thirst for gold had made him commit. "In front of the stage, and before general Arnold, was placed a large lantern of transparent paper, with the consequences of his crimes thus de lineated, i.e., on one part general Arnold on his knees before the devil, who is pulling him into the flames— a label from the general's mouth with these words T "My dear sir, I have served you faithfully;" to which the devil replies, 'And I will reward you.' On another side, two figures hang ing, inscribed -Tha Traitor's Reward," and wrote underneath, 'The ad jutant-general of the British army, and Joe Smith: the first hanged as a spy and the other as a traitor to his country.' And on tho front of the lantern was wrote the following : . 'Major-general Benedict Arnold, late commander of the fori West 1 oinl. The crime of this man is high treason. 'He has deserted the important post, West Point, on Hudson's river, committed to his charge by his excellency the commander-in-chiet, and is gone off to the enemy at New-York. 602 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 'His design to have given up this fortress to our enemies has been dis covered by the goodness of "the Omniscient Creator, who has not only pre vented him from carrying it into execution, but has thrown into our hands Andre, the adjutant-general of their army, who was detected in the infa mous character of a spy. 'The treachery of the ungrateful general is held up to public view for the exposition of infamy; and to proclaim with joyful acclamation another" instance of the interposition of a bounteous Providence. 'The effigy of this ingrate is therefore hanged^ (for want of his body,) as a traitor to his native country, and a betrayer of the laws of honor.' "The procession began about four o'clock in the following order: "Several gentlemen mounted on horseback. A line of continental officers. "Sundry gentlemen in a line. , "A guard of the city infantry,, "Just before the cart, drums and fifes playing the "Rogues march. . "Guards on each side. "The procession was attended with a numerous concourse of people, who, after expressing their abhorrence ofthe treason and the traitor, com mitted him to the flames, and left both the effigy and the original to sink into ashes and oblivion."* "Arnold was made a brigadier-general ;.in the British service; which rank he preserved throughout the war. - "Set he must have been held in contempt and detestation by tlie generous and honorable. It was impos sible for men of this description, even when acting With him, to forget that he was a traitor, first the slave of his rage, then purchased with gold, and finally secured by the blood of one of the mosfaccomplished officers in the British army. One would' suppose that his mind could not have been much at ease; but he had proceeded so far in vice; that perhaps his reflec tions gave him but little trouble. 'I am mistaken,' says Washington, in a private letter, 'if at this time, Arnold is undergoihgthetorments of a men tal hell. He wants feeling-. From some traits of bis character which have lately come to my knowledge, he seems to have been so hackneyed in crime, so lost to all sense of .honor and shame, that while his faculties still enable him to continue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse.' "Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to secure the attach* ment of his new friends. V\ ith the hope of alluring many of the discon- ' tented to his standard, he published an address to the inhabitants of Amer ica, in which he endeavored to justify his conduct. He had encountered the dangers qf the field he said, from an apprehensioh that the rights of his country were in danger. He had acquiesced inthe declaration of independence, though he- thought it precipitate. But the rejection of the overtures made by Great Britain, in 1778, and theFrench alliance, had opened his eyes to the ambitious views of those who would sacrifice the happiness of their country to their own aggrandizement, and had made him a confirmed royalist. He artfully mingled assertions that the princi pal imembers of congress held the people in sovereign contempt. "This was followed, in about a fortnight, by a proclamation, addressed 'to the officers and soldiers of the continental array, %ho have the real in terest of their country at heart, and who are determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of congress, or of France.' To induce the American officers and soldiers to desert the cause which they had embraced, he repersented ?Niles' Revolution. BENEDICT ARNOLD. 603 that the corps of cavalry and infantry which he was authorized to, raise, • would be upon the same footing with the other troops in the British ser vice; that he should with pleasure advance those whose valor he had wit nessed; and that the private men who joined him should receive a bounty of three guineas each, besides payment, at the fulf value, for horses, arms and accoutrements. His object was the peace, liberty and safety of Amer ica. 'You are promised liberty,' he exclaims, 'but is there an individual in the enjoyment of it save ypur oppressors'! Who among you dare to speak or write what he thinks against the tyranny which has robbed you of your property, imprisons your persons, drags you to the field of battle, and is daily deluging your country with bloodT 'What* he exclaims again, 'is America, But a land of widows, orphans, and "beggars'! As to you, who ha*ve been soldiers in the continental army, can you at this day want evidence that the funds of your country are exhausted, or that the managers have applied them to their private uses?' In either case you sure ly can no longer continue in their service with honor or advantage. Yet you have hitherto been their supporters in that cruelty which, with equal indifference to yours, as well as to the labor and blood of others, is de vouring a country that, from the moment you quit their colors, will be re deemed from their tyranny.' "TEese proclamations did not' produce, the effect designed^ and in all thahardships, sufferings and, irritations of the war, Arnold remains the solitary instance of an American officer who abandoned the side first em braced in the contest, and turned his sword upon his former companions in arms. ^ "He was soon despatched by sir Henry Clinton to make a diversion in) Virginia. With about seventeen hundred men be arrived in the Chesa peake in January, 1781, and being supported by such anaval force as was suited to the nature ofthe service, he committed extensive ravages on the rivers along the unprotected coasts. It is said that, while on this expedi tion, Arnold enquired of an Americant captain whom he had taken pri soner, wjmt the Americans would do with him if he should fall into their hands," The captain at first declined giving him an answer, but upon be ing repeatedly urged to it, he said, 'Why, sir, if I must answer your ques tion, you must excuse my telling you the plain truth: if my countrymen should catch you, I believe they would first cut off lhat lame leg, which was wounded in the cause of freedom and virtue, and bury it with the hon- 6rs ortyar, and afterwards hang the remainder of your body in gibbets.' The reader will recollect that the captain alluded to the wound Arnold re ceived in oh&sof his legs at the attack upon Quebec, in 1776." -j "The return of general Arnold to New-York from Virginia, did not fix him in a state of inactivity. He was sent on an enterprise against New- London, with a sufficient'land and marine force. The embarkation having passed over from Long Island shore'intthe night, the t,roops were landed in two detachments on each side of the harbor at ten o'clock in the morn- ' ing of Ihe 6th of September; that, on the Groton side being commanded by lieuteifant-colonel Eyre, and that "on the New-London side by the general, who met with no great trouble. Fort Trumbull and the redoubts, wliich were intended to cover the harbor "and town, not being tenable, were evac uated as he approached, and the few men in them crossed the river to Fort Griswold, on Groton-hill. Arnold proceeded to the town without being otherwise opposed than' by the scattered fire of small parties that had has tily collected. Orders were sent by the general to Eyre for attacking Fort Griswold, so that the possession of it might prevent the escape of the American shipping. The militia, to the amount of one hundred and fifty-seven, collected for its defence, but so hastily as not to be fully fur nished with fire arms and other weapons. As the assailants approached, 604 BENEDICT ARNOLD. a firing commenced, and the flag-staff was soon shot down, from whence the neighboring spactalors inferred that the place had surrendered, till the continuance of the firing convinced them to the contrary. The garrison defended themselves with the greatest resolution and bravery; Eyre was wounded near the works, and major Montgomery was killed1 immediately after,, so that the command devolved on Major Bloomfield. The British at one time st-jfgercd; but the fort being out of repair, could not be main tained by a handful of men against so superior a number as that which as saulted it. After an action of about forty minutes, the resolution of the royal troops carried the place by the 'po'1^ of the bayonet. The Ameri cans had not more than half a dozen killed before the enemy entered the fort, when a seve're execution took place, though resistance ceased. The British officer inquired, on his entering the fort, who commanded? colonel, Ledyard answered — 'I did, sir, bufyou do now;' and presented his sword.' The colonel was immediately run through and killed. The slain was sev enty-three: the wounded between thirty and forty, and about fifty were carried off prisoners. Soon after reducing the fort, the soldiers loaded a wagon with the wounded, as said, by order ofthe officers, and set the wagon: from the top of the hill, which is long and very steep; the wagon went a considerable distance with, great; force, till it was suddenly stopped by an apple*tree, which gave the faint and bleeding men so terrible a shock that part of them died instantly. About fifteen vessels, with the effects of the inhabitants, retreated up the river, notwithstanding the reduction of the fort, and four others remainedTin the harbor unhurt; a number were burnt by the fire's communicating from the stores when in flames. Sixty dwelling houses and eighty-four stores were burned, including those on both sides of the harbor and in New-London. The burning of the town was intentional, and not accidental. The loss that the Americans sustain ed in this destruction was very great; for there were large quantities of naval stores, of European goods, and East and West India commodities, and of provisions in the several stores. The British had two commission ed oflicers and forty-six privates'killed; eight officers (some of whom are since dead, (with one hundred and thirty-five non-commissioned and pri vates, wounded,"* "From the conclusion of the war till his death, general Arnold resided chiefly in England. He died in Gloucester-place, London, June 14, 1801. His character presents little to be commended. .His daring courage may indeed excite admiration; but it was a courage without reflection ana with out principle. He fought bravely for his country; and he bled inhor cause; but his country owed him no return of gratitude, for his subsequent con duct proved that he had no honest "regard to her interests, but was govern ed by selfish considerations. His progress from self-indulgence to treason was easy and rapid. .< He was v$i>n arid luxurious; ahd to gratify his giddy desires, he must resort to meanness, dishonesty, jand extortion. These vices brought with them disgrace; and the contempt into which he fell awakened a spirit of revenge, and left him to the unrestrained influence of his cupidity and passion. Thus from the high fame to which his brave ry had elevated bim, he descended into infamy. Thus too, he furnished new evidence of the infatuation of the human mind, in attaching such val ue to the reputation of a soldier, which may be obtained while the heart is ur.sound, and every moral sentiment entirely depraved. "f *NiIes' Revolution. ,, t American Biographical Dictionary.