^ibliotbequeif^ationalr bu (2^ueb s SIR JOHN JOHNSON THE FI RST ME 1MCAN-B( )R N BARONET .1 A' JLDDIIKSS KMVEI{EI> liKFOKKTIIK NKW YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AT ITS ANM'AL iMEE'riN<;, TITESDAY, J.ANLAKY «)Tu, 18H0. ...•V:: if :•::••': • • • BY ,'• • • AJ.-GEN. J. WATTS DE PEYSTER, M.A..LLD„F.R,H.S., A MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY. , , ...^« • ••!' • - « ' • • : '..I • ••• !•♦ •• • • • •• ••••••*. • • t ; . , • I • • : .,.•,..!•♦••••• ,.;%.*.•. •• • • • • • < « • • B NO. iSSJ SIR JOHN JOHNSON, Horn nth Nov., l74'i~IHed 4th .ran., IS.tO. It is well for men to reflect upon two or three expressions in the Bible which demon- strate that injustice is not always to exercise omnipotent sway; and that even the "High Song" of Odin, in the " Edda," was mistaken when it sang: •' One thing I know that never dies, The verdict passed ui)on the dead." Whoever assumed the name of the "Preacher King" to present his own opinions in the Apocryiihal book, styled the "Wisdom of Solo- mon," uttered a multitude of truths worthy of the divinely-inspired son of David, but no grander enunciation than the assurance, "Vice [Falsehood] shall not prevail against Wis- dom" [Truth]; and St. Paul, the greatest human being who, ns a fact and not a fiction, ever trod this little world of man, promised that even to humanity " every man's work shall be made manifest." It is in this interest — Truth — that the address of the evening is delivered. Victor Hugo,a truly bright, however erratic, mind, has thrown off, from time to time, sen- tences which are undoubted sparks of genius. One of these is his denunciation of the delusive lights of Success. "Success," says this great writer, "has a dwjoe — History!" It has another dupe — Public Opinion ; and this latter is no- where blinded by such obliquity, if not actual opacity, of vision as in thiscountry; preferring gilt to gold, and bestowing the highest |)rizes on men, who, in comparison with demigods like Thomas, are of mere clay. The whole of our Revolutionary history is a myth. A member of this very society has torn some of tne coverings from apparently slight scratches and revealed festering sores. Tt would be well if there were other prac- titioners as daring. The effort of this evening will be simply the vindication of a gentleman who has borne up, like an Atlas, under the hundred years of ob- I loquy heaped upon his memory, a load of I which he can alone be relieved by outspoken i truth. The present King of Sweden has just pub- llished a species of vindication of one who was |a grand hero and a great soldier, although his- srian, poet and playwright have united in lamning his memory with faint praise, sum- led up in the epithet: "The Madman of the forth." Could this opprobrious term be heard t>y Charles the Twelfth, he might exclaim with %. Paul, and with equal justice^ "I am not lad?" for Charles was a patriot King, a aldier, a General, a Man— the latter the grandest sense of the word — without any vice, with manifold virtues. He failed, anil he fell ; and the curs that barked from afar off at the living lion howled in triumyth over the kingly creature which Fortune not their fangs tore down. The royal author — Oscar 11.^ in the follow- ing eloquent passages quoted, doubtless refers to the misjuclgments f)f his couni;rymen in re- gard to prominent men who sustained the los- ing side in the civil wars of his country, as well to those of Swedes and foreigners upon his pre<lecessor: "The past appeals to the impartiality of the future. History replies. But, often, genera- tions pass away ere that reply can be given in a determinate form. For not until the voices of contemporaneous panegyric and censure are hushed; not until passionate pulses have ceased to beat ; until fiattej-y ha-s lost its power to charm, and calumny to villify, can the ver- dict of history be pronounced. Then from the clouds of error and prejudice the sun of truth emerges, and light is diffused in bright rays, of ever increasing refulgency and breadth. * * Every age has its own heroes — men who seem to embody the prevailing characteristics of their relative epochs, and to present to after ages the idealized expression of their chief tendencies. Such men must be judged by no ordinary standard. History must view their actions as a whole, not subject them to sepa- rate tests, or examine them through the lens of partial criticism and narrow-minded preju- dice." In this connection old ^sop steps in with one of the remarkable fables which have out- lived his ^ods and cosmogony by over a decade of centuries. A lion, observing the sculptured group of a hunter strangling one of the lords of the forest, growls out: "What a different piece of art— if lions were sculptors — would be stand- ing on yonder pedestal! It would be the hunter torn in pieces by the lion." To no class who have ever lived can such re- marks as these apply as to the Loyalists, nick- named "Tories," of the American Revolution. Modem Italy has sought to efface the remem- brance of wrongs done to the Waldenses. Bigoted Spain is opening her eyes to the mir^- gl^ chivalry and industry of tide Moors, who made their peninsula the world's cen- tre for learning; who clothed the southern sides of her rugged sierras with luscious vineyards; and made her arid valleys to blos- som like the rose. France wails for the Hugu- not element which her priest-ridden, lecherous King drove out to scatter its seed throughout the world, and enrich his enemies with their invincible swords,, but, far better, their in- Sir John Johnhox. ilninitablH onton>riso and em'r(?y. ThiH coun- try— ourH— is yt't nnwllliiip to accord justice to the riic*' or ('l«ss it op])rc>H8tHl nnd •■x{ieil(Mt, ihiriiiK tli*' llcvoliitioii, l)ocaii»K> Ut reveive the verdict would Int to condunui tho Huccewful party to a judgment inoro dlK- (^reditable and deserved tnan that meted out to the victims of fidelity —the Loyalists of 177H. The Waldenses oi- persecuted Protes- tants of Savoy, under their pastor and col- onel, Arnaud, in AuKust-Septembor, ltt89, by "their thii-ty days inarch," and attempt to reconquer their native seats, furnished "un- questionably the most epic achievement of modem times," and won world-wirle celebrity and glory through seeking, sword in hand, to recover their desecrated ancestral homes. Why, then, should the slightest breath of cen- sure cloud the crystalline memories of the Loyalists, who imitated their ireso- lution and perilled all, not for gain but for duty; not for pay but for principle; and all, in this, were eminently faitnful, pay- ing, in many cases, what Lincoln styled the last full measure of devotion." The patriots, so-called, had much to gain individually, and, with cdhiparatively few exceptions, very iittle to lose. All these considerations suggest a direct appeal to the calm thought ami honest judgment of the generation which has just lived through "the Great American Conflict." The Loyalists of the Revolution were identi- cal with the Union ptuiiy in the Rebel (not Confederate) States during the "Slave- holders' Rebellion;" and the very title, "Loy- al men," was applied to the party that sus- tained the national govenmient in 1860-65, as was, justly, the term "rebels" to those who sought its overthrow. The father of Sir John Johnson — the subject of this address— was the famous Sir William Johnson, Baronet, Major-Gteneral in the Royal Service and British Superintendent of Indian Affairs. This gentleman was, perhaps, the most prominent man in the province of New York dui*ing the decade which preceded the Declaration of Independence. Wnether a Jan- sen— a descendant of one of those indomitable Hollanders who went over with William III. to subdue Ireland, and anglicised their names — or of English race proper,Sir William was a strong example of those common-sense men who know how to grapple fortune by the fore- lock and not clutch m vain the tresses which flowed down her receding back. He opened two of the most productive valleys m the world— the Mohawk and Schoharie — to emi- gration; and with the development of their riches rose to a height of opulence an«l influence unequalled in the "Thirteen Colonies." Just in hu dealings with all men, he was particular- ly so with the Indians, and acquired a power over the latter such as no other individual ever possessed. Transferred from civil jurisdiction to military command he exhibited no less ability in the more dangerous and laborious exigendes of war. He, it was, who first stem- med successfully the tide of French invasion, and turned it back at Lake G«orge, in 1755; receiving from his sovereign, in recognition of his able services, the first hereditary baronetcy in this country. At "Johnson Hall'' he lived in truly baronial state, and no other provincial magnate ever exhibited such affluence and grandeur as was displayed by him in his castle and home on the MohawK. His greatest achievement, perhaps, was the defeat of a sujMjrior French force seek- ing to relieve Fort Niagara and his capture of this noted stronghold m 1751>. The distinguished British general and military historian, Sir Edward Gust, in his "Annals of the Wars," refers in the fol- lowing language to this notable exploit of Sir William: "This gentleman, like Clivo, was a self-taught general, who, by dint of innate courage and natural sagacity, without the help of a military odiication' or military ex- perience, rivalled, if not oclii»sed, the gi'oatest comniantlei's. Sir William Jolinson omitted nothing to continue the vigorous measures of the late general [Prideaux Killed] and added to them everything his own genius could suggest. The troops, who resjiected, and the provin cials, who adored, him," were not less devote<i than the Six Nations of Indians who gladly followed the banner of himself and his less for tunate son. Thus, with a sway inconipi-ehensible in tin- fn-esent day, beloved, respected and feared by aw breakers and evil doei-s, the mortal ene mies of his semi-civiUzed wards — the Six Nations — he lived a life of honor; and died, not by his own hand, as stated by prejudiced tradition, but a victim to that energy, which, although it never bent in the service of king or country, had to yield to yeai-s and nature. Sick, and thereby unequal to the demands of public busines, he jn-esided at a council, 1 1 July, 1774, spoke and directed, until his ebbing strength failed, and could not be restored by the inadequate remedial measures at hand on the borders of the wilderness. To no one man does Central New York owe so much of her physical development as to SirWUliam Johnson. Wedded in 1739, to a Hollandish or German maiden, amply endowed with the best gifts of nature, both physical and mental, "good sound sense, and a mild and gentle ; disposition," Sir William was by her the father of one son, boi-n in 1743, and several daughters. The latter are sufficiently described in a charming, \rell-kno\vn book, entitled "The Memoirs of an American Lady" — Mrs. Grant, of Laggan. The former was Sir John Jobjison, a grander representative of the tiansition era of this State, than those whom Success and its Dupe — History, have placed in the national "Walhalla." While yet a youth this son a(^companied his father to his fields of battle, and when the generality, of } boys are at school or college, witnessed two of " the bloodiest conflicts on which the fate of the ' colony depended. He had scarcelv attained i majority when he was entrusted witlh an inde-i pendent command, and in it displayed an abili- ty, a fortitude, and a judgment, worthy of rip- er years and wider experience. Jfent out to England by his father in 1765, "to try to wear oflf the rusticity of a country! education," immediately upon "his presentation! at court he received from his sovereign an ac-i knowledgment — partly due tiO the reputation; of his parent, and partly to his own tact and capacity— such as stancb alone in colonial his- I 8iu John Joiinhon. iry. Although his fatlior, Hir William, wan ,dy a kuigiit anil l«ronet for service to the .uiwn, John was himself knighted, at the age I twenty-three ; and thus the old-new baronial at Johnstfjwn sheltereti two recipient*, the same family and generation, of the ionor of kniKhthofxl. There is no parallel to his double distinction in American biography, and but few in the family aimals of older coun- tries. When they occur they have been made the theme of minstrel, poet and historian. This was the era when "New York was in Its happiest state." In tne Summer of 1773, and in his thirtieth year, Sir John Johnson married the beautiful Mary — or, as she was affectionately called, "Polly"— Watts, aged nineteen. She was born in New York 27th Oct., 1753, and died 7th August, 1S15, at Mount Johnson, near Montreal. Mrs. Grant, of Laggan, has left us a charming pen jxirtrait of this bright maiden: "Returmng for a short time to ttiwn in Spring I foimd aunt's house nmch enlivened by a very agreeable visitor; this was Miss W.(att8), daughter to the Hon. Mr. W.(attH), of the coimcil. Her elder sister was afterwards Countess of Cassilis, and she herself was, long afterwards, married to the only native of the continent, I b+ilieve, who ever succeeded to the title of baronet. She jjosses-sed much beauty, and understanding and vivacity. Her playful humor exhilerated the whole household. I re- farded her with admiration and delight, and er fanciful excursions afforded' great amuse- ment to aunt, and wei-e like a gleam of sun- shine amidst the gloom occasioned by the spirit of contention which was let loose among all manner of people." The graces which the authoress commemorated are corroborated by others. Even after many years of trial and sorrow, her portrait bears out the characteristics attributed to her. Her features are most familiar to the relator, as her portrait bung in the chamber occupied by him in youth. Tne elder sister referred to was likewise a bright and charming woman, as ap- pears from her picture in Colzean Castle, one of the hereditary abodes of her husband, the eleventh Earl, who built the stately mansion, No. 1 Broadway, in this city. The Castle, from its commanding site, looks forth over the Frith of Clyde, upon a remakable freak of nature, the stupendous insulated rock, or rather mountain, from which her son derived his title as first Marquis of Ailsa. Her family had long been distinguished in colonial annals. Her grandfather was of the Watt family of "Rose Hill," near— now within— the limits of Edinburgh, and as "of that ilk," had been so known for over a centuiy. The old family mansion is yet standing, and although de- graded into the service of a rail- road company, still in its degenera- tion and partial ruin attests its former stateliness. Her father. Hon. John Watts, Senior, was one of the first men of the colony. Be had vindicated the rights of his fellow citi- zens against the military oppressions of the day. Nevertheless, the "Sons of Liberty" — or ather "License," made him one of their first ictiras. To save his life he became an exile ; nd an exile he died in Wales, and his bones, 'ar away from those of kith and kin, found a esting place in the parish church of St. James, in Piccadilly. London, near the remaiim of his slHter. Lady Warren, the wife of the famous Admiral who took Louisburg in 1745. "John Watts, Em\., was an eminent merchant of New York, a gentleman of family, of character and reputation, opulent and of a disitosition remarkable for the most unbounded hosi)itality. He serveil many years an a rep- resentative for the city of New York, and more i>erhap8, afterwards, as one of his . Majesty's Council. He wasjproscribed by the reljel Legislature of New York, his person attainted, and his estate confiscated," although he had not been in the country for over a year before the Declaration of Indei>endence. Had the crown been victorious this John Watts would have been the Lieutenant-Gov- ernor and Acting Governor of this Province, succeeding his wife's grandfather, the famous Cadwallader Colden. His son and namesake, John Watts, was the last royal Recorder of the city of New York, remained here during the revolution; and after it, was Speakei- of the State Assembly and Member of Congress. Defeated at the {Mils by the scion of a family aristocratic in sentiment however democratic in politics, who aroused the people against him'by dis- seminating hand bills demanding if freemen could trust the kinsman, connection and friend of the English nobility, he retired from public life. This disappointment did not dim his phi- lanthropy ; and to him this city owes one of the noblest charitable institutions in its midst — the Leake and Watts Orphan Home. A younger brother, Stephen, "an elegant and charming youth," entered the Britfih service; and fol- lowing the fortunes of his brother-in-law, Sir John Johnson, left a limb and nearly his life on the bloody field of Oriskany. So fearfully man- gled that few officers have survived such a com- plication of wounds and barbarous treatment, he was saved through the fidelity of Indians and his own soldiers, and carried back to Que- bec — a long and weary transit. He lived to a good old age in England, and left a progeny of sons, who rose to high and honorable trusts in various branches of the royal service. The eldest brother, Robert, married Mary, eldest daughter of Ma j. -Gen., titular Lord, or Earl of, Stirling, who disinherited her because she had married a Loyalist, and clung to the fortunes of her husband. Inheriting his father's dignities and respon- sibilities. Sir John Johnson could not have been otherwise than a champion of his sover- eign's rights. If he had turned his coat to save his projwrty, like some of the prominent patriots, he would have been a renegadfe, if not worse. Some of the greater as well as the les- ser lights of patriotism had already cast long- ing glances upon his rich possessions in the Mohawk Valley. Its historian tells us that in a successful rebellion the latter counted upon dividing his princely domains into snug little farms for themselves. The spei-m of anti-rentism was germinating already; although it took over sixty to seventy years to thoroughly en- list legislative assistance, and perfect spolia- tion in the guise of modem agrarian law. Surrounded by a devoted tenantry, backed by those "Romans of America,"the "Six Nations," it was not easy "to bell the cat" by force. It, is not politic to revive hereditary animosities * 6 Sir John Joiinhon, by the raentlon of nameH in thJH hall. Hufti- cient t<) Hay, iniKht provaiksl over riKht, ami Sir John wan plao«Ml iiii<l«>r what the Albany Committee choMO to detiiie a "i»aroh»." M(m1- em eourtH of inquiry, espeiiallv in the 1 Inited Htaten Hineo 1H<H), have deciiied that such a HyHteui of i>aroliiig in in itHelf invalid, and that individualH Hubjecteil to such a proct>(lure are absolved de facto from any nhitlgeH. The Albany Committee had no lef^itimate power to impoHii a parole u{)on a dutiful mib- lect, more iiarticularly an ottlcer of the Kin^;. This was certainly the caHe at any peri<Ml prior to the Declaration of Independence. All tbcHe events occurred from six weeks to Hix monthH prior to the date of this instrument. It was simply an operation of mob law. The rioters in New Yorlc, in July, l»i!{, had just as much rightful authority to place under ])arole a Na- tiounl or Munici]ml officer cajjtured while sup- portin^f the law and endeavoring to maintain order, or even a private citizen opposed to these riotous })roceedings, as this Albany Committee, in a great measure self-constitut- ed, to put and hold under what they chose to call a parole in the Winter and Spring of 1776, an ituimrtant agent of the crown, exercising authority by the appointment and conunission of lef^timato government. This address has now reached a })oint where it seems proper to invite the attention of the audience to the consideration of the charge in relation to the violation of this parole which the rebels or patriots, or whatever thev may be most properly styled, have brought for- ward HO prominently and persistently to brand the charatiter of Sir John. They say he vio- lated his parole and fled their tender mercies. This common charge of American historical writers, that Sir John broke his parole, is proven to be "without foundation and untrue." The testimony as to the untruth of this popular charge, can be found in publi- cations on the shelves of the library of tbds very institution. To cite it textually would occupy more time than can be devoted to the whole address; sufficient will be presented to establish the main facts. It may be as well, however, to premise; that Count d'Estaing, the first French Commander who brought assist- ance to this country, had notoriously bi'oken his parole, and yist no American writer has ever alluded to the fact as prejudicial to his honor. It did not serve their purpose. The French held that Washington violated his parole; and Michelet, a devoted friend to liberty and this country, feelingly refers to this to demonstrate* one of the heart-burnings which Prance had to overcome in lending assistance to the revolt- ed colonies. How many Southern officers, in spite of their paroles, met us on battlefield aiter battlefield. Regiments and brigades, if not divisions, paroledat Vicksburg, were en- countered within a few weeks in the conflicts around Chattanooga. FYench generals, pa- roled by the Pru.ssians, did not hesitate to ac- | cept active commands in even the shortest ; spaces of time. Under the circumstances this cnarge against Sir John was a pretext: but, weak as it is, if is not true. Power in all ages has not been delicate in its choice of means to : destroy a dangerous antagonist. The magnificent Louis XIV. never hesitat- ed to iruit^te the employment of hireling assas- sins HO Huccessfiilly initiatetd by that champion of the I'aiml Church, rhllip II. Thus the Duke of Alvu lured Horn and Eguiont into the toils which they exchanged for the scaf- fold. Alxl-el-Kader surrendered on terms which were only grunted to Ih) violated. And blackest of exuiiipleH, how was the chivalric Osceola inveigled into chains. Had Sir John violated his parole, circumxtances justified him, but he did not do so. What is the truth f)f this charge i Not satisfied w ith putting him under parole, the Albany Committee, egged on by the patri- ots (sic) of Tryou county, determined to seize Sir John Johnson's person. It may be stated that "the antipathy" of the prominent family and its friends in Albany to the Johnsons and their connections arose from the Indian trade. The close relationship of blcKxl never seems to have had the slightest power over the gnawing thirst for gain. The Johnson influence hatl l)«en for a hundred and thirty-ijight years in favor of the Indians and against the Albany tradei-s. This was the leaven whose fermentation grew gradually stronger and stronger in its power to foment a bitterness which was augmented to the in- tensest degree of political antagonism. In January, 1776, a raid was made upon "Johnson Hall" in consequence of the afllda vit of an imposter. This reflected no credit on those engaged in it. Then it was that Sir John found uimself placed uniler what has been styled his i)arole. From this time for- ward Sir John was harassed and hounded to the utmost extent of human patience and en- durance. Finally, in March, the evacuation of Boston by the British gave a fresh stimulus to the successful colonists, and the Albany Committee made up their minds that the time had now come to deprive Sir John of his personal liberty. To justify such an outrage they bad either to violate their own compact or release him from it. As the party endan- gered was not destitute of intelligence, it was necessary, in order to entrap him, to resort to deception. The principal agent in this design has left a letter, ii which he emphasizes that care must be taken to prevent Sir John's being apprized of the real design of his opponents, and he therefore dispatched a commimication, which, though cunningly conceived, was not sufficiently so to conceal the latent treachery. As Van der Does on Leyden wrote to Valdes, the Spanish General besieging and trying to tempt him to surrender : "Fistula dulce canit volucrem, dum decipit anceps." "iTie fowler plays sweet notes on his pipe when he spreads his net for the bird." So Sir John was not deluded by the specious words of his enemies seeking to enmesh him. Sir John was to be simultaneously released from his parole and made a prison- er. The officer who carried the com- munication discharging Sir John from his parol was the bearer of directions to ar- rest him as soon as he had read it, "and make him a close prisoner, and careful- ly guard him that he may not have the least opportunity to escape." Sir John still had some friends ambn^ those who were now in power, and received intelligence of what was going \ S I 1 Sir John Joiinho.v. III. He exercistnl ordinary dlscretlon,and,fol- )wo(l by devote<l frlejulu and retainent, es- iped before the trap could be Hijrung upon kini. [Thitre wan nt) real wniblance of jfoverninent iitil the Htates began to orKanlze. New York lid not do so until 1777. The Thirtt-eii (Colonies pere not dp jure IwUigerentu in any wiHe until Se Mother Country eMtabliKhe<l a regular ex- tiange of priHoners. They were not bi'lliger- itH t<) the world in the real Kenue of the term itil their acknowledgment aH a power by ranee, and LouIh XVL entered into a treaty ' alliance with them. Great Britain conceilod ill belligerent rights when it appointe<l com- JHHioners, in 1778, to treat with the Federal )ngres8. Previous to this the Thirteen slonies occupied an abnormal position with- it anything beyond a very limite<l recogni- m as a legitimate govemment. CVmsotiuent- what right had the Albany Committee to pace a servant of the crown under parole? If)reover, according to all just principles of iroles, the parties arrogating to themselves le right to place Johnson under parole, were [)un(f, when they undertcK)k U) rescind it, to ice him in the same position as when the trole was exacted — the same as to means of distance or escape — and not to revoke his irole and instantly and simultaneously ar- 8t and to incarcerate him.] ^ There is, to rei)eat and emphasize, an am- le sufficiency of evidence in existence andac- Bssible in this building to prove that the com- mon charge of American historical writers is vithout fovndation and tintr^te.'^ I Sir John fled, but he did not fly unaccom- lied ; and among his subsequent associates, leers and soldiers, were men of as good iding as those who remained behind to )flt by the change of authority. Many of latter, however, expiated tneir sins or rors on the day of reckoning at Oriskany. [Not able to seize the man, disappointed chery determined to capture a woman, tie victim this time was his wife. Why? The jswer is in the words of a letter pre- rved in the series of the well- lown Peter Force, which says: "It is the ^neral opinion of people in Tryon county it, while Lady Johnson is kept a kind of stage. Sir John will not carry matters to tcess." Lady Johnson must have been a icky woman; for even when imder con- lint, and in the most delicate condition that iroman can be, she exulted in the prospects I soon hearing that Sir John would soon rav- the country on the Mohawk river. To 3te {mother letter from the highest au- ority, "It has been hinted that she is a good curity to prevent the effects of her husband's lence." Tith a determination even superior to that ^hibited by her husband, because she was a Oman and he a man, Ladv Johnson in mid- iter, January, 1777, in disguise, made her cape through hardships which would appal a "•son in her position in the present day. rough the deepest snows, through the ex- |ime cold, through lines of ingrates and ene- she made her way into this lo val city. Her reads like a romance. People cite Flora )onald, Grace Darrell, Florence Nightin- le. We had a heroine in our midst who disi)laypd a courage as lofty as theirs, but sh" forgot ' IN ottcn, l)eoauMe Hh«» wns the wife of a man who had the courage to aveng<> her wrongs, even uixm the victors, andchaHtisc h(>reneraiot and tiersecutors as well as his own. All this occurred prior to the Hjtring of 1777. Sir Guy (,'arleton, undoubtedly the grandest character among the British military chieftains in America, received Sir John with <)|)enarms; and immediately gave him op|)ortunities to raise a regiment, which made itself known and felt along the frontier, throughout the war. With a fatal pai-simony of judgment and its appliciition, the Crown never accumulated suftlcient trooi)8 at decisive (K)ints, but either delayed their arrival or afterward di- verted or frittered their strength away. In 1777, when Burgoyne was preparing for his invasion of New York, down the Hudson, St. Leger was entrusted with a siiiiilar advance down the Mohawk. Sir Henry Clinton, an able strategist and a brave soldier, but an indo- lent, nervous mortal, an<l an inefficient commander, recorded a sagacious opinion on this occasion, viz. : that to St. Leger was as- signed the most important part in the pro- gramme with the most inadequate means to carry it out. To play this part successfully required a much larger force ; and vet to take a fort garrisoned by nine himdred and fifty not inefficient troops, with sufficient artillery, and fight the whole available itopnlation of j Tryon county in arms beside, St. Leger had I onlv i;7.") whites and an aggregation of about I 1000 Indians from twenty-two different tribes, I gatht-red from the remotest points adminis- : tertMl by British officers, even from the ex- I trenie western shores of Lake Superior. To I batter this f()rt> he had a few small pieces of i ordnance, which were about as effective tm I pop-giuis: and were simply adequate, as he says in his rejiort, to "tease," without injuring, I the gannson. His second in command was w John .lohnsmi. For the i-clief of Fort Stanwix, Maj.-Gen. I Harklieimer. Sir John's old antagonist, gath- ! ered up all the valid men in Tryon county, I variously stated at from 800 and «00 to 1000, ] constituting four or five regiments of militia, j and some <"hieida Indians. These latter, I traitors to a fraternal bond of centuries, j seemed about as useless to their new associates ' as tht\ were faithless to their old ties. To meet Harkheimer, St. Leger sent forward Sir John Johnson, and it is now clearly established beyond a doubt that his ability planned and his determination fought the battle of Oriskany. Had the Indians shown anj'thing like the pluck -of white men, . not a provinciaTwould have escaped. In spite of their mefficiencv. Sir John's whites alone wo«ld have accomplished the business had it not been for "a shower of blessing" sent by Providence, and a recall to the assistence of St. I^eger. As it wa.s, this, the bloodiest battle of the Revolu- tion at the North, was indecisive. Harkeimer lost his life, likewise hundreds of his foUow- I ers. and Tryon county suffered such a terrific calamity, that to use the inference of ita his- torian, if it smiled again during the war iv*; smiled through t«ar8. The iron will of Schuyw ler, another old antagonist of Sir John, sent : Arnold, the best soldier of the Revolution, U> \ Sii{ John JoiiNrtON. nave Fort Htauwix, thf k»<y t<) the Mohawk yall«y. The rapid advaiu-n of this brillinnt leader and thedoHtardly ooiuhict and defection of the IndianH.pruMTvtKl the lK^l«>iii(uurHd work ; and Ht. I^s'tr and Hlr John wore forced to re- tire. On tiiiM Ralvation of F'ort Htanwix. and not on Renniu)(ton, profjerly Hofwic or Wul- loomHcoik nor on Haratogu, hingtMl the fate of the Bursoyne invaMion and the eventual cer- tainty of indet)endencu. No part of the fail- ure Ih (ihargeaole to Hir John. As liefore nientione<l, the EnsUHh war ad- miniHtration soemed utterly inadeiiuate to the occasion. They had not Imh'u able to ^I'^Pple with itH exi>?encleH whiln the coloiiien were ''do- inK for them.selveH," an Mazzini expreHHed it. when France and Kpuiii entered the liHt, and Burgoyne'H army had Ixtcn eliminated from the war problem, they seem to have loct their heads; and, in 177H, abandoned ail the fruitN of the mindire<'te«l efTorts of then- main nrmy. Clinton HucceiHled to Howe in the Held, and Haldimand to Carlettin in Canada. Ilaldi- mand, a Swiss by birth and a veteran by service, was as deficient in the piicelens practical abilities in which his prede- cessor excelle<l. Thowi who know him considerod him an excellent professional soldier, but for administraticm and orRanizution his nitttt were small. Ho was so afraid that the French and Provincials would invade and dismoml)er the roinaining British jjossessions in North Anierico, that ho not only crippled Clinton in a measure, by constant demands for troops, but he wasafraiil to entrust such brilliant partisans as Sir John Johnson with forces sufflciont to accomplish anythini? of irnijortance. Ho sufrerod raids when he should huvo launched invasions, and ho kept every comjiauy and battalion for the defence of a territory, which, excejrt in its ports, was amnly i)rotectod by nattiro and distonce. Wasniiigton plaj'od on his timidity just as he afterward fliiKored the ner- vousness of CJintcn. Thus the rest of 1777, the whol ' of 1778, and the gi-eater part of 177!t wa« passed by Hir John in compulsory inac- tivity. He was undoubtedly bnsy. But, like thousands of human efforts which cost such an expenditure of thought and preparation, but are fruitless in marked results, their records are "writ in water." In 1771> occurred the famous invasion of the territory of the Six Nations by Sullivan. In one sense it was tri- umphant. It did the devil's work thorough- ly. It converttjd a sei"ie»of blooming gardens, teeming orchards and productive fields into wastes and asht-s. It was a disgrace to devel- oping civilization, und, except to those writei-s who worship nothing but temiwrary success, it called forth some of the most scatning con- demnations ever penned by historians. When white men scftlp and flay Indi- •ans, and convert the nUns of the latter's thighs into boot-tops, the question sug- fijests itself, which were the savages, the Continental troops or the Indians. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that for ev- ery Indian slain and Indian hut consumed in this campaign, a thousand white men, women and children paid the ptmalty; and it is al- most unexceptionally aomitted that the inex- tinguishable natred of the r^kins to the United States dat«^ from this raid of Sullivan worthy of the ScH)ttiMh chief who smoked his enemies to death in a cavcni, or of a Pelliiwier, a St, Amaud or a Pretorius. Sullivan's military objective was Fort Nia gara, the basis, for about a century, of in- roads, French an<l British, u|s)n New York. Why he did not make the attempt requires a consideration which would occupy more time than is assigned to this whole atldreiis. There were adversaries in his front who did not fear pop-gun artillery like the Intiians, and were not to Im) dismayed by a liveiy (*annonade as at Newtown. Haldimand had sent Sir John Johnson to organize a b«Niy of about two hun- dred and fifty white trooiw, b4>sides the Indians, and these were rapi<lly concentrating upon Sullivan, when the latter countermarched. American historians give their reasons for this retreat; British writers explain it very differ- ently. In any event this expedition was the last military command enjoyed by Sullivan. The Scripture hero affords an expression which may not be inap|)Ucablo. "He departed without Inking desired. Sir John's further aggressive movements I were prevented by the early setting in of Win ! ter, wnich rendered the navigation of Lake ' Ontario too dangerous for the certain dis|)atch ; of the necessary troops and adequate supplies. The extreme search for inforuuitiim m re- I gard to the details c^f the movements upon this frontier, has Ijeen liitherto baffled. Ac- cording to a reliable contemporary record, Sir John Johnson, Col. Butler and Capt. Brandt captui'ed Fort Stanwix on the 2d of November, 1 7T}), This is the only aggressive oiM^ration of the year attributed to him. In 1780 Sir John was given head, or let loose, and he made the most of his time. In this year he made two incursions into the Mohawk Val- ley, the first in May and the second in Octo- ber. There is a very curious circumstance con- nected with this raid. The burial of his valu- able plate and papers, and the guarding of the secret of this deposit by a faithful slave, al- though sold into the hands of his master's ene- mies ; the recovery of the silver through this faithful negro, and the transport of the treas- ures, in the knapsacks of forty soldiers, through the wilderness to Canada, has been related in so many books that there is no need of a repetition of the details. One fact, however, is not generally known. Through dampness the papera had been wholly or par- tially destroyed ; and this may account for a great many gaps and involved questions in narratives connected with the Johnson family. The "treasure-trove" eventually was of no ser- vice to anyone. God maketh the wrath of man to praise Him ; and although Sir John was the rod of His anger, the staff of His in- dignation and the weapon of His vengeance for the injustice and barbarisms shown by the Americans to the Six Nations, but especially during the preceding year the instrument was not allowed to profit, personally, by the ser- vice. T he silver , etc. , retrieved at such a cost of peril, of life, of desolation and of suffering was not destined to benefit anyone. What, amid fire and sword and death and devastation, had been wrenched from the enemy was placed on shipboard for conveyance to England, and, by Sir John Johnhon. e "Irony of fate," th« v(>wm1 foundered in o (Jtilf of Ht. Iiawren<'«' and it* preoiouH viuhi, liico thatdi^wi-ilMNi in tho " NietwlunKen it'd," Hunlc int«» the tivawury of mo much of rth'H ric'hHHt niKtilH and [HwmMHionH, the abysH tim Hua. tit ill said that hiH WH'ond invaHion of thin par WBH co-ordinat<* with th»' plan of Hlr [•■riry Clinlon, of which the banlM waH tho Hur- S'lider of Wi'wt l*«)int l)y Arnold. If so, tho irmer Ijore to the hitt^jr the Mann* relation " nt the advance of Ht. lij^ner did in respect UnrRoyne. St. L«>Ker'H failure burht tho niibinedf movement «)f 177T; and Arnold's ilK)rtive attempt explcKlml the conception df 17«(l. H» that Hir John's move- ment, which was to have been one •f a Krand military Hcries, unhappily for bis repuf;ation iH'canie an apparent "missitm ©r venj^eance,"' oxeniteil, however, with a ihoiou^iuiess wliifli was felt far lieyond the jPistrict uiMiii whic'li tlie visitation came— came II such a tcrril.'li' K'"isc, that a hundred 'I'ins have scarcely weakened tht» bitt«'mo88 of s memories. VVIiatevei- else may l)e debited «> him, it can Imi Niiiit of him, as (if llraham of 'laverhonse, (hat iuHJid his work effectively. AIMioukIi one hundred yeai-s have scarcely assed away since the events considered in this ddress, there are almost /IS c<mflictinK accounts f the ixM*sonal appi-aranco of Hir John as there re aaitagonistic jiuhnnenta in rcs[>ect to his hnractor. By some he has been r(!pi'osented over six feet in heip^ht; by others as not allei- than tho ordinary run of men in his dis- rict- Doubtless in mature years he was a itout or stalwart flgiu'c, and this, always at east to some extent, detracts from height, and eceives unless everything is in exact nropor- "on. The only likeiiehs in existence whicn is I accordance with descriptions, an engraving )f F. Bartolozzi, R. A. , is a rare one from lome contemporary work, representing him in lis unifonn. It is not inconsistent with the rictures of him ordinarily produced in well mown works. These, however, from the cos- tume and expression, seem to have Ijeen taken at an earlier date. [Mr. do Lancey, at page H42 (Note Iv.), Vol. i, apijended tn Jones' ''Hititory of New York," etc., furnishes a description of Hir John, which tallies exactly with the colored engraving by Bartolozzi, in the speaker's possession. "He was a handsome, well-made man, a lit- tle short, with blue eyes, light hair, a fresh complexion, and a firm but pleasant expression. He was quick and decided in disiKwition and manner, and possessed of great endurance."] He has been "described as cold, haughty, cruel and implacable, of questionable" courage, and with a feeble sense of pei-sonal honor. Mr. Wil- liam C. Bryant, in his admirable biographical sketch, disposes of this repulsive picture with a single honest sentence: "The detested title of Tory, in fact, was a synonym for all these unamiable qualities." According to a recently found sketch of Charleston, South Carolina, published in 1864. it would appear that every American opptwed to French Jacobinism was stigmatized as an aristocrat; and when Washington approved of Jay's treaty of 1795, six prominent advo- cates of his poflcy were hung in eflSgy and pol- luted with every mark of indignity; taen burned. Even the likeneiw of Washingtoii, at full len^h, on a sign, is reporti*d to have lM>eii much abused by the ram)le. These iwtrlots experiencu«l the same treatment accorde.l to the character of Hir John. The procession at PouijhkeeiiHie, in this Htate, to ratify the ailo|H tion of the hiMleral Constitution, came near ending in bl(N)dshed. Any one oi)nose<l to slavery, when it existi'd, risked his fife, south of "Mason ami Dixon's line," if he uttere«l his Hentini|>nts in public. No virtues would havesave<l him from vlf)leiice. On the other hand, there were classes ami communities at the North who would not concede a redtHuiiing quality to a slaveholder. Passion intensities public opinion. The niaswN never retlect. Here let a distinction be drawn which very few, even thinking pei-sons, duly appreciate. The rabble are nut the |»eople. Knox, in his "Races of Men," draws this distinction most clearly. And yet in no country t<i such an extent as in the United Htates is this mistake so oft«'n made. f)ld Rome was styled by its own b<mt thinkers and annalists "the ccssikkiI of the world:" and if any nuMieni Htiite do- serves this scathing im))utation, it is this very Htat;«( of New York. Count Tidlyrand- Perigord said that as long as there is sutficient virtue in tho thinking classes to assimilate what is good, and reject what is vicious in immigration, then? is true progress and real prosperity. When the poison becomes superior to the resistive and assimilative power, the descent begins. It is to pander to the rabble, not tho people, that sucn men as Sir John Johnson are misrepre- sented. Huch a course is politic for dema- gogues. To them the utt«)rance of the truth is suicidal, because they only could exist through such perversions worthy of a Machiavclli. They thrive through ix)litical Jesuitism. The Roman populace wore mahitained and restrained by ^'panem et. r'»wn<v.'*." The mod- em voting rabble feed like theiu — to use the Scripture expression — on the wind of delusion ; and it is this method of portraiture which ena- bled the Albany Committee to strike down Hir John, confiscate his proiierty and drive him forth ; and carry out like purposes in our veiy mlrlst to-day. People of the present day can scarcely con- ceive the vimlence of vituperation which char- acterized the political literature of a century since. Hough, in his ^'■Northern Invasion," has a note on this subject which applies to every similar case. The gist of it is this: The opimons of local populations in regard to prominent men were entirely biased, if not founded upon their popularity or tho reverse. If modem times were to judge of the charac- ter of Hannibal b> the pictures handed down by the gravest of" Roman historians, he would have to be regarded as a man destitute of almost every redeeming trait except courage and ability or astuteness j whereas, when the truth is sifted out, it is positively certain that the very vices attributed to the great Carthagiiuan should be transferred to bis Latin advei'saries. Sir John was not cold. He was one of the most affectionate of men. Mr. Bryant tells us that he was not "haughty," but, on the con- trary, displayed qualities which are totally inconsistent with coldness. "His manners were 10 Sir John Johnson. peculiarly mild, gentle and winning. He was remarkably fond of the wxiety of ehildren, who. with their marvellous insignt into char- acter, bestowed upon him the full measure of their unquestioning love and faith. He was also greatly attached to all domestic animals, and notably very humane and kinder in his treatment of them." Another writer, com- menting upon these traits, remarks: "His pe- culiar (•haracteristic of tenderness to children and animals, makes me think that the stories of his inhumanity during the War of the Rev- olution cannot be true." He was not "cruel." A number of instances are recorded to the contrary, in themselves sufficient to dism-ove such a sweeping charge. The honest Bryant ijenned a paragraph which is pertinent here in this connection. "Sir John, certainly, inherited many of the virtues which shed lustre upon his father's name. His devotion to the interests of his gov- ernment; his energetic and enlightened ad- ministration of important trusts ; his earnest championship of the barbarous race which looked up to nim as a father and a friend; his cheerful sacrifice of a princely fortune and estate on what he conceived to be the altar of patriotism, cannot be controverted by the most virulent of his detractors. The atroci- ties which were perpetrated by the invading forces under his command are precisely tho^e which, in our annals, have attached a stigina to the names of Montcalm and Burgoyne. To restrain an ill-disciplined rabble of exiled Tories and ruthless savages was beyond the power of men whose humanity has never in other instances been questioned." The majority of wnters absolve Montcalm ; and Burgoyne disclaimed, and almost conclu- sively proved, that he was not responsible for the charges brought again.st him by the gran- diloquent Cxates and others, who did not hesi- tate to draw upon their imagination to make a point. Sir John, with his own lips, declared, in i"egard to the cruelti s suflfered by the Whigs during his first Inroad, that "their Tory ncighboi-s, and not himself, were blama- ble for those acts." It is said that Sir John much regretted the death of those who were esteemed by his father, and censured the murderer. But how was he to punish ! Can the United States at this day, with all its power, punish the individual perpetrators of cruelties along the Western frontier and among the Indians! It is justly remarked that if the "Six Nations" had an historian, the Chemung and Genesee valleys, desolated by Sullivan, would present no less glowing a picture than of those of the Schoharie and Mohawk, which exi)erienced the visitations of Sir John. He, at all events, ordered churches to be spared. Sullivan's vengeance was indis- criminate, and left nothing standing in the shape of a building which his flres could reach. Sir John more than once inter- posed his disciplined troops between the savages and their intendetl victims. He redeemed captives with his own money; and while without contradiction he punished a guilty district with military execution, it was not dii-ected by his orders or countenance against individuals. Hough, for himself, and quoting others, admits that "no violence was oflfereato women and children." There is nothing on rec«)rd or hinttni to show that hel reftisen mercy to prisoneix; no instance of what was t«nned "Tarleton's quarter" if cited; and it is very questionable if cold-blood e«i peculation in the American administrative corps did not kill off incalculably more in the course of a single campaign, than foil at the| hands of all, white and red, directe<l by John son, during the war. As to the emthet "implacable," that amountsl to nothing. To the masses, anyone who pun-' ishes a majority, even tempering justice with I mercy, provided he moves in a sphere above! the plane of those who are the sub.iects of the I discipline, is always considered not only unjust I but cruel. T\m patriots or reltels oi Tryon I county had worked their will on the pei-son-sj of the family and the pi-operties of Sir Johnl Johnson; and he certamly gave them a I good deep draught from the goblet I they had originally forced upon his lips.[ He did not live up to the Christian code which I all men preach and no man practices, and as-r suredly did not turn the other cheek to the! smiter, or offer his cloak to him who nad all ready stolen his coat. I claim there was great! justification for his conduct. The masses cani underatand nothing that is not brought home! to them in lettei-s of tire and of suffering.l Tlieir compassion and their fury are both the| blaze of straw; and their cruelty is as endiu'- ing Jis the heat of red hot steel. The manner I in which the construction of elevated i-ailroadsl has been pemiitted in the city of New York. [ to the detriment and even comparative ruin of I indivrjduals, shows how little the public care if I the few suffer provided it is benefited. Sir I John may be taken as representing the parties] who were mo.st deeply injured by such a sys- tem. If these blew up a ixirtion of the road | with the trains upon it containing the direc- tors and prominent stockholders, the laws of I this StatCj like those favoring "Anti-rcntism," and seemingly adjusted for the protection of wrong, would term such an act conspiracy and murder. Whereas disinterested parties, know- ing the facts, might esteem it a righteous ret- ribution, which, although punishable as a crime against society, was not without excuse | as humanity is constituted. There is only one more charge against Sir I John to dispose of, viz., that "his courage was questionable." The accusation in regard to his having a "feeble sense of pei"sonal honor" rests upon the stereotyped fallacy in regard to | the violation of his pai'ole. This has already been treated of and shown to be unsustaineH I by evidence. In fact, it was proved that he | did not do so. In this connection it is neces- sary to cite a few more pertinent words from the impartial William C. Bryant. This author I says: "Sir John's sympathies were well I known, and he was constrained to sign a | pledge that he would remain neutral during | the struggle then impending. There is no warrant for supposing that Sir John, when he submitted to this degradation, secretly- deter- mined to violate his promise on the convenient plea of duress, or upon grounds more rational and «iuieting to his conscience. The jealous espionage to which he was afterwards exposed —the plot to seize upon his person and i-estrain his liberty— doubtless furnished the coveted pretext for breaking faith with the 'rebels.'"' Sir John Johnson. n The charge of "questionable courage" is ut- terly ridiculous. In the first place, it originated with his per- lonal enemies, and if such evidence were ad- missible, it is disproved by facts. There is scarcely anv amount of eulogy which has not been lav&hed upon Arnold's exp6di- ion from the Kennebec, across the great divide between Maine and Canada, down to the siege of Quebec, and the same praise has been extended to Clarke for his famous march across the drowned lands of In- diana. Arnold deserves all that can be said for him, and so does Clarke, and everyone.who has displayed equal energy and intrepidity. It is only surprising that similar justice has not been extended to Sir John. It is universally conceded that when he made his escape from his persecutors, in 1770, and plunged into the howling wilderness to pre- serve his liberty and honor, he encountered all the suffering that it seemed possible for a man to endure. As a friend remarks, one who is well acquainted with the Adirondack wilder- ness, such a travei"se would be an astonishing feat, even under favorable circumstances and season, at this day. Sir John was nineteen days in making the transit, and this, too, at a season when snow and drifts still blocked the Indian paths, the only recognized thorough- fares. No man deficient in spu'it and fortitude would ever have made such an attempt. Both of the invasions under his personal leading were characterized by similar daring. The cowardice was on thepart of those who hurled the epithet at him. Their own writera admit it by inference, if not in so many words. One of the traditions of Try..' county, which must have been well-krown to be re- membered after the lapse of a century, is to he effect that in the last battle, variously known as the fight on Klock's field, or Fox's Mills, both sides ran away from each other. Were it time of both sides, it would not be an extraordinary example. Panics, more or less in proportion, have occurred in the best of armies. There was a partial one after Wa- gram, after Castalla, after Solferino, and at )ur first Bull Run. But these are only a few among scores of instances that might be cited. What is still more curious, while a single pei-sonal enemy of Sir John charged him with quitting the field, the whole community abused his antagonist, Gten. Van Rensselaer, for not capturing Sir John and his troops, when a court martial decided that while the General did all he could, his troops were very "bashful, "as the Japanese term it.about setting under close fire, and they had to be withdrawn from it to keep^the majority from running home bodily. The fact is that the American State levies, quasi-regulai-s, under the gallant Col. Brown, had experienced such a terrible defeat in the morning, that it took away from the militia all their appetite for another fight with the same adversaries in the evening. Sir John's conduct would have been excusable if he had quitted the field, because he had been wounded, and a wound at this time, in the midst of an enemy's country, was a casualty which might have placed hiiiw^t.t))^ merey^of an Administration which wa^,<ot»t,gi<^w, Jwtft or without law, at inflicting,* eni^$ej,:&i(f even aangingin haste and trying at leisure. •f • •• • •• • **. • • « • • t But Sir John did not quit the field premature- ly. He was not there to fight, to oblige his adversaries; his tactics were to avoid any battle which was not absolutely necessary to secure his retreat. He repulsed his pursuers and he absolutely re- turned to Canada, carrying with him as prisoners an American detochment which sought to intercept and impede his move- ments. While Van Rensselaer, the scion of a race which displayed uncommon courage in the Colonial service, was being tried and sought to be made a scape-gout for the short- comings of his superiors and inferiors. Sir John was receiving the compliments, in public ordera, of his own superior. Gen. Haldimand, to whom the German officers in America have given in their published correspondence and narratives the highest praise as a professional soldier and therefore judge of military merit. What is more, as a farther demonstration of the injustice of ordinary history, the severe Governor Clinton was either with Van Rensse- laer or near at hand,and consequently as much to blame as the latter for the escape of Sir John. Stone, who wrote at a time when as yet there were plenty of living contemporaries, dis- tinctly says that Gov. Clinton was with Gen. Van Rensselaer just before the battle and re- mained at Fort Plain, while the battle was taking place a few miles distant. Finally, the testimony taken before the court martial indicates that the Americans were vastly superior in numbers to, if not more than double. Sir John's whites and Indians ; and it{ was the want, as usual, of true fighting pluck in the Indians, and their abandonment ofl their white associates which made the result] at all indecisive for the Loyalists. Had the redskins stood their ground it is very doubtfu if the other side would have stopped short o Schenectady. All accounts agrse that the in vaders had been overworked and were over burdened, having performed extraordinary labors and marches; whereas, except as i ordinary expeditiousness, the Americans quasi regulars and militia, were fresl and in Ught marching order, for the were just from home. So much stress h been laid on this fight because it has been al ways unfairly told, except before the cour martial which exonerated Van Rensselaer Ordinary hmnan judgment makes the philoso pher weep and laugh : weep in sorrow at thi fallacy of history, and laugh in bitterness a the follies and prejudices of the uneducate< and unreflecting. Some of the greatest commanders who hav ever lived have not escaped the accusation o want of spirit at one time or another. Evei Napoleon has been blamed foi* not sufferin, himself to be killed at Waterloo, thus endini his career in a blaze of glory. Malice vente( itself in such a charge against the gallan leader who saved the middle zone to the Union and converted the despondency of retreat an defeat into victory. It is perhaj a remarkable fact that the mo| always select two vituperative charges most yepugnant to a man of honor, perha] beoause/jb^ey >are -those to which they thei ielVsi lt^e•In^fA, (&)&ii— falsehood and poltrooi frjr; (DtgeV^i^.t^^it is not the business of commanoer to throw away a life which dr i • c • • • • • •< *• • • • • • > 12 Sut John Joh^tson'. not belong to himself Individually but to the general welfare of his troops. Mer j 'physical courage," as has been well said by a veteran soldier, "is largely a question of nerves." Moral courage b thk Ood-like quality, the lever which mall ages has moved this world. Moreover it is the comer-stone of progress ; and without it brute insensibility to danger would have left the nineteenth century in the same condition as the "Stone Aft«." A man, bred as Sir John had been, who had the courage to give up everything lor principle, and with less than a modem battalion of whites, plunge again and again into the territory of his ene- mies, bristling with forts and stockaded posts, who could put in the field forty-five regiments, of which seventeen were in Albany and five in Tryon counties, the actual scenes of conflict, besides distinct corps of State levies raised for the protection of the frontiers, in which every other man was his deadly foe, and the ma- jority capital marksmen, that could shoot off a squirrers head at a hundred yards — such a man must have had an awful amount of a hero in his com- position. Americans would have been only too willing to crown him with this halo, if he had fought on their side instead of fight- ing so desperately against them. And now, in conclusion, let me call the brief attention of this audience to a few addi- tional facts. Sir William Johnson was the son of his own deeds and the creature of the bounty of his sovereign. He owed nothing to the people. They had not added either to his influence, affluence, position or power. If this was trae of the father as a beneficiary of the Crown, how much more so was the son. The people undertook to deprive the latter of that which ^ey had neither bestowed nor augmented. They injured him jn every way that a man could be injured; and they made that which was the most commendable in him— his loyalty to a gracious benefactor, his crime, and punished him for that which they should have honored. They strack ; and he had both the courage, the g>wer. and the opportunity to strike back, is reialiation may not have been consistent with the literal admonition of the Gk)spel, but there was nothing in it inconsistent with the ordinaiy temper of humanity and manliness. Ladies and gentlemen, the people of this era have no conception of the fearful significance of Loyalty, 100 years since. Loyalty, then, wasalmostpantmount to religion: nest after a man's duty to his Gkxl was his allegiance to his prince. "^Noblesse oblige" has been blazoned as the highest commendation of the otherwise vicious aristocracy of Prance. It is charged that when the perishing Bourbon dynasty was in direst nee 1 of defenders it discovered them "neither in its titled nobilit in its native soldiers," but in meroe Whereas in America Gh9orge III. found ( champions in the best citirana of the Ian foremost in the front rank of these sto John Johnson. Hume, who is anything imaginative or enthusiastic writer, LOYALTY AND PATRIOTISM together; an< his philoeoi^cal words this vmdication John Johnson is committed to your call impr^udiced judgment: "T/ie moat invi atiOAshment to the laws of our ooun everywhere acknowledged a capital and where the people are not so happy have any legislature but a single THK STRICTEST LOYALTY IS, IN THAT CAS TRUEST PATRIOTISM." " Hopes have precarious life; They are oft oUghted, withered, snapt 8he< But FAiTHViTUfESB Can feed on scrrsRiNO, And knowa no diaappointment." MOTE. A letter lies before the author of the Address, which is too pertinent and cor ative to be omitted. It is from the pe distinguished officer and one of the fleeting men of this generation, who wise a collateral rolaraon of one of the prominent Continental generals. In writer sajrs: "The more I read and imderstand the ican Revolution, the more I wonder success. I doubt if there were more the States decidedly Whig — Massachusett Virginia. Massachusetts [morally] over New Hampshire and the northern Rhode Island — diagged them after her Massachusetts people were Aryan [by with a strong injection of Jewish [inst The population of HOHthem Rhode Islat Connecticut were divided— more Loya Rebel. New York was Tory. New — eastern part, followed New York; Sirt, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania was aryland was divided. North Carolina followed her, partly South Carolina. Carolina had many Tories. Georgia to South Carolina. Two paities constitut sta«ngth of the Whigs— the Democratic numists of Massachusetts, and wherevei organization extended, and the [ProV aristocracy of Virginia, which was the King, out would not bend to the cratic Parliament. The Scotch [Protest Papist] Irish in New York, Pennsylva North Carolina were Rebels to the ' The Dutch families in New York, the note in South Carolina, likewise. The (^ party, the Gtermans, the Catholic the Quakers were loyalist. The everywhere were Rebels. .\ • • • • < » o « 9 • t e 9 9 „ ..^« I-' • c • t t' C I • A » 'AC* « 4 * • • • <*