OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY 
 OP 
 

 PUBLIC, 
 
 
 Being esjfiTnlished permanently in the business of circu- t 
 latiiig Books by Tf-nVeting Agents solely, I have adopted 
 these \is my rules: \ . ;; 
 
 1st. To dispose of my Books only through iiiy own 
 Agents, and not through Booksellers or Peddlers, a* 
 
 thereby I Mccure uniformity of pric-eM. .- .L 
 
 * t \* / 
 
 3d. To obligate my Agents by a written contract-n^f fo-N ( 
 
 sell any of my publications for less than thcup regular . 
 prices. | 
 
 3d. To furnish to Subscribers, Books in every respect 
 fully equal to the sample copies. 
 
 4th. Not to reduce the price of my Books after their fifst 
 issue : 
 
 It is my desire that whomsoever may read this, oj>. any 
 of my publications, should recollect the name, of the 
 
 * f ; 
 
 .publisher, as it is my intention that it BhaJLJI tteyejf* M|/ 
 attached to any work that ivill not be generally .Val 
 far beyond its mere money cost, by such ~ """ " * 
 
 possess it. That I have thiiX far succeeded in 
 
 I . jjF * 
 
 is evinced by the greatly increased sales of m>v 
 in those communities where the reputation "of-^jjie 
 lishcr has been e ablishcd by former purchases! " 
 
 It shalI9p^uiy t-ndeavor to continue the publication of 
 none birk*Bvl>Sts of decided merit*,- and to. conduct my 
 
 - ->. -~f- zr-\- " .- " * , 
 
 ^4>nsiuss inr ~"a,- syslematic, honorable manner ; all of , 
 .. whih, uiidt? from the pleasure it is certain to confer, 
 wil* result in the generous patronage of an appreciating 
 pub ic. 
 
 HENRY 1 
 Author and ^H!^ 
 Cincinnati, 0., A 111 Main St. (upsta|j;.^ ~Sf 
 
 
 
ADVENTURES 
 
 AND 
 
 ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 OP 
 
 AMERICANS; 
 
 SERIES OF NARRATIVES 
 
 ILLUSTRATING THEIR 
 
 HEROISM, SELF-RELIANCE, GENIUS AND iRfllPUSI, 
 
 BY HENRY HOWE, 
 
 C. CTnOR OF HISTORIES OF VIRGINIA, OHIO, AND THE GREAT WEST; TRAVELS OP 
 CELEBRATED TRAVELERS ; LIFE AND DEATH ON THE OCEAN. ETC. 
 
 anij 
 
 GIN CIX.N ATI. 
 HENRY HOWE, PUBLISHER 
 
 NO. Ill MAIN STREET. 
 1861. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, 
 
 BY HENRY HOWE, 
 
 In the Clerk s office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
 District of Ohio. 
 
 E. MORGAN & SONS, 
 
 BTEREOTYPERS, PRINTERS, AND BINDERS, 
 
 111 Main Street. 
 
1 
 
 . 
 
 Entered recording to Act of Congress, in the year 1638, 
 BY HENRY HOWE, 
 
 In the Clerk s office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
 District of Ohio. 
 
 E. MORGAN A SONS, 
 
 STEREOTYPER3, PRINTERS, AND BINDERS, 
 
 111 Main Stroor. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 SINCE when, by the right of birth and the lapse of years, we were privi 
 leged to walk up, take the freeman s oath, and drop a ballot in the littlo 
 box, so potent in this government of " the people," we have been almost 
 wholly engaged in the preparation and in the publication of books for cir 
 culation by traveling agents exclusively. 
 
 In the meanwhile, we have attained to a point where it has become 
 " past meridian" with us, and we now pen the preface to our sixth octavo. 
 All of these, derived from varied sources, original or published, in our own 
 or in the language of others, have been constructed with an especial ref 
 erence to the wants of that class, who, either from habit or their isolation, 
 rarely or never enter a bookstore, and who would, in a measure, be desti 
 tute of the information imparted by books, were they not brought for pur 
 chase to their very doors. We have the gratifying evidence that among 
 these our publications have been widely popular; anJ have proved the 
 means, as wo believe, of lasting pleasure and instruction to the inmates of 
 many a humble cabin-that dots the prairies or skirts the forests of the more 
 remote West 
 
 The title of this book was made before the book itself was begun. We 
 have endeavored to adapt the contents to the name, in a collection of arti 
 cles exhibiting national character, and mainly by individual examples. 
 Such as are already sufficiently familiar to the public are, in general, not in 
 serted, from a desire to render the work moro attractive to our readers by 
 its novelty. We have further aimed to gratify a variety of tastes, and to 
 make this such, that it will be a favorite volume with every American 
 family that may possess it. 
 
 This work, in its variety, is adapted to all classes ; both male and female, 
 young and old, the Christian, the philanthropist, those who read simply for 
 excitement and those who read solely for information, will nil find it a 
 source of pleasure. We believe there is no work of our day that tends so 
 greatly to gratify one s patriotism to make one glad that he is an Ameri 
 can citizen as this; which shows so well the Heroism, Self-reliance, 
 Genius and Enterprise of our Countrymen, in the Olden Time and in Our 
 Time in Peace and in War on Land and on Sea at Home and Abroad. 
 Those who obtain it will bo proud of the facts it contains, for there is much, 
 very much in it to Bend a thrill of exultant joy to the heart of every 
 American. 
 
 (Hi) 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 We terminate the book in the twenty-third article, by a choice collection 
 of about one hundred specimens of American Poetry, selected with refer 
 ence to diversified tastes and mental conditions. Contrary to general 
 opinion, we believe that Poetry giving that word a broad definition is 
 universally liked ; that is, some ideas expressed by versification please all, 
 better than the same given in prose, though we do think that Poetry, usu 
 ally, relishes and digests easier, if, like sweetmeats, it is taken in small quan 
 tities at a single sitting. 
 
 Our engravings, in the highest style of art, are by eminent American 
 artists, and were designed expressly for the book. We add, for the informa 
 tion of certain of our readers, a fact which, as a publisher, it becomes us to 
 state, that the expense of these alone, in cash, was to us more than the cost, 
 at government price, of a square mile of our national domain ; yet, to 
 many, this will be considered a useless expenditure, in view of the general 
 want of appreciation of the excellent in Art, especially with the very largo 
 mass who judge of bulk, and not quality, in their guago of the cost of 
 books, and who would be content with crude and cheap illustrations. But 
 the " will do " is not our standard. We trust there is a vein of common 
 sense, running through the great public, that in its final judgment duly ap 
 preciates those generous in their endeavors to render their offerings every 
 way excellent. 
 
 But, not resting satisfied with even these, we have, at an additional ex 
 pense of some four hundred dollars, had designed, expressly for the sub 
 scribers of this work, by that Artist of surpassing skill, Mr. F. 0. C. Barley, 
 and engraved in the mezzotint style, one of the most sublime and tragic 
 scenes in American History, entitled, "The Last Words of Captain Nathan 
 Hale, the Hero-Martyr of the American Revolution 
 
 My only reyret is, that I hare but one life to lose for my country. " 
 
 On the left in this beautiful steel engraving, is shown the fatal Tree, 
 with the Ladder, Rope, Coffin, and Negro Executioner. In front stands the 
 majestic figure of the young Patriot, and that of the brutal Provost Marshal, 
 the infamous Major Cunningham ; who, true to his character, had denied 
 Hale his dying request for the Bible, and had also destroyed his letters to 
 his friends ; giving as reason for so doing, " that the Rebels might not know 
 they had a man who could die with such firmness." 
 
 The Engraving is a "cabinet" picture. It is the first time that this sub 
 ject has been delineated by Art, aid we can but feel grateful that we have 
 been the means of thus having it perpetuated for all coming time, and in a 
 design, too, which so greatly honors American genius. Each subscriber is 
 given a copy, which is separate from the work, that he may frame it, and 
 adorn his walls with a scene so elevating in its tendency, as an example of 
 
 lofty Patriotism, and heroic Self-sacrifice. 
 
 U. H. 
 CINCINNATI, OHIO, No. Ill Main-Strert 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 THE HERO MARTYR. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, the Hero Martyr of the American Revolu 
 tion. 15 
 
 EARLY AMERICAN ARTISTS. 
 
 Achievements of some of the Early American Artists. - - -25 
 Benjamin West. .-.---..-27 
 
 Charles Gilbert Stuart. 37 
 
 John Trumbull. 43 
 
 BAND OF HEROES. 
 
 An accurate and interesting account of the hardships and sufferings of 
 that Band of Heroes, who traversed the wilderness in the Campaign 
 against Quebec, in 1775. --------51 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN TRAVELER. 
 
 The wanderings of that Eminent American Traveler, John Ledyard, 
 in various parts of tho world. _....-. 85 
 
 RESCUE OF GENERAL LAFAYETTE. 
 
 The heroic adventure of Francis Huger, a young man of South Caro 
 lina, and of his companion, Dr. Bellman, in their attempted Rescue 
 of General Lafayette from an Austrian Prison, at Olmutz. - - 109 
 
 (v) 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN INVENTORS. 
 
 PAOE. 
 
 The triumphs of some of the most Eminent American Inventors. - 123 
 Eli Whitney, inventor of the Cotton-Gin. 124 
 
 Robert Fulton, the Steamboat Inventor. - 132 
 
 Samuel F. B. Morse, and the Magnetic Telegraph. - 137 
 
 George Steers, the American Ship Architect. 140 
 
 Charles Goodyear, the inventor of Vulcanized India-Rubber. - 14G 
 Samuel Colt, inventor of the Repeating Fire- Arm. ... 149 
 
 Cyrus II. M Cormick, inventor of the Reaping Machine. - - 153 
 Isaac M. Singer, and the Sewing Machine. ----- 157 
 
 ADVENTURES OF A REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER. 
 
 Remarkable Adventures of Israel R. Potter, who was a soldier in the 
 American Revolution, and took a distinguished part in the Battle of 
 Bunker Hill, in which he received three woinids ; after which he 
 was taken prisoner by the British and conveyed to England, AN here 
 for thirty years he obtained a livelihood, for himself and family, by 
 crying, " Old chairs to mend," through the streets of London. Ho 
 did not succeed in obtaining a passage to his native country until the 
 year 1822, when he was in the seventy-ninth year of his age, and 
 after an absence of forty-eight years. - - 163 
 
 THE TWO ORATORS. 
 
 The Two Orators of our Revolutionary Era. - - ... 189 
 James Otis, of Massachusetts. .-...- 189 
 
 Patrick Henry, of Virginia. - ... 200 
 
 AMERICAN TEMPERANCE REFORMERS. 
 
 The Achievements of the American Temperance Reformers, a histori 
 cal sketch. 213 
 
 DESERTION OF JOHN CHAMPE. 
 
 The pretended desertion of John Champe to the British, in the War 
 of the American Revolution, for the purpose of Capturing the Traitor, 
 Benedict Arnold. 251 
 
CONTENTS. VU 
 
 LAND AND SEA PERILS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Narrative of the Land and Sea Perils of Andrew Sherburnc, in the War 
 of the American Revolution, including his sufferings in the Old Mill 
 Prison, England, and afterward in the Old Jersey Prison Ship, at the 
 AVallabout, Brooklyn, New York. 261 
 
 CRUISE OF THE ESSEX. 
 
 Narrative of the Cruise of the Essex, a United States frigate, under the 
 command of Captain David Porter, made to the Pacific Ocean, in the 
 years 1812, 13 and H, the period of the last war with England. - 299 
 
 AMERICAN COLONY OF LIBERIA. 
 
 The wise and heroic conduct of Jehudi Ashman, as shown in saving 
 from destruction and in establishing on a firm basis the American 
 Colony of Liberia. 357 
 
 MIER EXPEDITION. 
 
 Narrative of the Mier Expedition, with the particulars of the decima 
 tion of the prisoners, and a history of the survivors, who were im 
 prisoned in the Castle of Perote, in Mexico. 383 
 
 AMOS LAWRENCE, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 
 
 Incidents in the life of Amos Lawrence, the Model Merchant, and the 
 Christian Philanthropist, who from an humble beginning became one 
 of the wealthiest men in America, and remarkable for his enlarged 
 benevolence he having given away, in the course of his life, more 
 than seven hundred thousand dollars for the benefit of mankind. - 411 
 
 FIVE YEARS IN THE U. S. ARMY. 
 
 Five Years an American Soldier, comprising adventures at Palo Alto, 
 Rcsaca de la Palma, Monterey, Vera Cruz, Cerro Gordo, and in the 
 battles in the Valley of Mexico, interspersed with anecdotes of mili 
 tary life in peace and in war. 
 
Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 AMERICAN ARCTIC EXPEDITION. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Narrative of the American Arctic Expedition, in search of Sir John 
 Franklin, under the command of Dr. Elisha Kent Kane, U. S. N. - 485 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN MISSIONARY. 
 
 The Achievements of that Eminent American Missionary, Adoniram 
 Judson. 51) 
 
 DIFFICULTIES WITH AUSTRIA. 
 
 The Conduct of our Country and Countrymen in their difficulties with 
 Austria and the Austrians. -------- 541 
 
 Arrest and Imprisonment of a young American in Hungary. - 542 
 
 The Correspondence of Daniel Webster, the American Secretary of 
 State, with Chevalier Hiilseman, the Austrian Minister. - - 564 
 
 American Intervention in behalf of, and Hospitality to, the Hunga 
 rian Exiles, including an account of Kossuth s visit to the U. S. 565 
 
 Heroism of Captain Ingraham in the Kosta affair. - 568 
 
 PHILANTHROPIC ENTERPRISES. 
 
 Narrative of some of the Philanthropic Enterprises in the Great Me 
 tropolis, New York, for the benefit of miserable, degraded classes. - 5" 
 
 THE WORLD S FAIR. 
 
 America at the World s Fair, held in the Crystal Palace, London, in 
 1851 ; together with a description of the great Yacht Race off the 
 Isle of Wight, in which the New York Yacht America gained a 
 signal triumph. 599 
 
 ACHIEVEMENTS OF AMERICANS ABROAD. 
 Adventures and Achievements of Americans Abroad ; a collection of 
 interesting miscellanies. -------- 623 
 
 Adventures of the eccentric arid patriotic Female Artist, Patience 
 
 Wright. 623 
 
 Adventures of Elkanah Watson. 628 
 
 Americans in Russia. -------- 639 
 
 American National Courtesy. ------- 642 
 
 Americans in Australia. -------- 646 
 
 American Enterprise. ------- 649 
 
INDEX TO THE COLLECTION OF AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 In those instances in which the poetry is prefaced with a notice of the author, his or 
 her lirst name i:< given in full below. 
 
 TITLE OF POEMS. 
 
 AUTHOR. 
 
 I r 
 
 Young America Taking his First Steps Cora M. Ka^er ;653 
 
 fc Death of Captain Nathan Hale JF. M. Finch I 
 
 The Convict to his Mother j Anonymous 654 
 
 Footsteps of Angels Henry W. Longfellow 655 
 
 A Castfe in the Air Levi Frtfbie " 
 
 Stanzas .Kichard H. Wilde 656 
 
 The An erican Flag iJoseph R. Drake " 
 
 Family Meeting Charles Surajrue | " 
 
 Sparkling and Bright Chas. F. Hoffman 657 
 
 Song of tte Drunkards Win. B. Tannau 
 
 1 I I I ! - . , * * 
 
 A Whaling Song 
 
 The Wif c : 
 
 The Wants of Man .". 
 
 Bled arc They that Mourn 
 
 The Day is Done 
 
 The Choice. . . 
 
 Wood man, Spire that Tree 
 
 The Snow Storm 
 
 The Life Voyajre A Ballad . 
 
 On the Death of J. R. Drake. 
 
 Old Songs 
 
 A Marriage 
 
 The Yankee s Return from Camp 
 
 Little Marv s Good Moraine.. 
 
 *w f, i * . . 
 
 Hail Columbia 
 
 The Battle Field . . . . . . . 
 
 John Osboru 1658 
 
 Anna 1 . Dcnnies | " 
 
 John(^. Adams (559 
 
 W. C. Bryant 661 
 
 H. W. Longfellow 
 
 Susanna Rowsou. . 
 
 Geo. 1*. Morris. 
 
 Seba Smith 
 
 Frances S. Osgood 
 
 Fit/-Greene Halleck 664 
 
 Willis Gay lord Clark 
 
 Jas. W. Ward 
 
 Anonymous 665 
 
 Anonymous 666 
 
 Francis Hopkiusou j " 
 
 W. C Bryant.. J667 
 
 (J62 
 
 H. W. Ixmgtellow. 
 Oliver W. Holmes. 
 Albert G. Greene.. 
 
 668 
 669 
 
 Resignation. 
 
 The La*t I*af. 
 
 Old Grimes . . , 
 
 Pictures of Memory .................. ........... ! Alice C. Carey 
 
 When other Friends are round Thee ................ |G. P. Morris. . . 
 
 The Lapse of Time .............................. W. C. Bryant. . 
 
 The Coral Grove ................................ Jas. G. 1 ercival. ......... 670 
 
 A Psalm of Life ................................ ,H. W T . Longfellow ....... j " 
 
 The Little Orator ................................ Thaddens Harris ....... 671 
 
 You d fccarre expect One of ray Age ................ David Everett ____ 
 
 A Life on the Ocean Wave ........................ Epes Sargeant ____ 
 
 The Settler ..................................... .Alfred B. Street. . 
 
 The Fire of Driftwood ........................... H. W. Longfellow ....... 672 
 
 Marco Boz/.aris ................................. K. G. Halleck ........... 673 
 
 Song of Marion s Men ........................... W. C. Bryant ........... 674 
 
 Tin- Song of Steam ............................. Geo. W. Cutter .......... j " 
 
 Rhyme of the Rail .............................. John G. Saxe ...... _____ f>7:> 
 
 ( >c ......................................... John G. Whittier ........ |676 
 
 *>""* ........................................ Ralph Hoyt ............ I " 
 
 (ix) 
 
IN1>EX TO POETRY. 
 
 TITLE OF POEMS. 
 
 . . 
 
 Kuiilv JiuUon 
 
 An Incident in a Railroad Car Jas. W. Lowell.. 
 
 Woman G. P. Morris 
 
 My Bird 
 
 The Country Lovers Thomas G. Fesseudeu. . . . 
 
 The Flight of Time J. G. Percival 
 
 A Song of the Western Pioneers William D. Gallagher. . . , 
 
 Unseen Spirits N. P. Willis 
 
 Annabel Lee E. A. Poe , 
 
 In Blessing Thou a:i Blessed William W. Fosdick 
 
 The Heritage J. R. Lowell 
 
 On Listening to a Cricket Andrews Norton , 
 
 Ballad Emma C. Embury 
 
 The Parting A. Norton , 
 
 The Babe and the Lily J. W. Ward 
 
 The Village Blacksm ith . . H. W. Longfellow 
 
 The Little Girl under the Snow Mary Louisa Chitwood . . 
 
 The Wayside Spring Thomas Buchanan Read. 
 
 Heaven" W. B. Tappan 
 
 Extracts from " The Song of Hiawatha." ;H. W. Longfellow 
 
 The Farmer Sat in his Easy Chair Charles G. Eastman 
 
 Ella ! ! J. W. Ward 
 
 My Native Land I Anonymous 
 
 Your Purse and Heart W. D. Gallagher 
 
 Poetry I J. G. Percival 
 
 The Fall of Niagara i John G. C. Brainard 
 
 Home James C. Percival 
 
 Will the New- Year Come To-Nitiht, Mamma S C. M. Eager 
 
 The Old Oaken Bucket Samuel Woodworth 
 
 Ix>ok Aloft Jonathan Lawrence , 
 
 Thanatop-jis William C. Bryant 
 
 It Snows Sarah J. Hale/ 
 
 Blessings on Children Win. Gilmore Sinms 
 
 The Death of the Flowers W. C. Hryant 
 
 Seasons of Prayer Henry Ware 
 
 The Star-Spangled Banner iThos." Scott Key 
 
 An Evening Rtvery W. C. Bryant 
 
 The Independent Farmer Susanna Rowson 
 
 O. W. Holme* 
 
 John Howard Payne. 
 
 Catharine H. Esling .... 
 
 W. C. Brvaiit.. 
 
 p. 
 
 677 
 
 678 
 
 679 
 681 
 
 682 
 683 
 
 684 
 
 GS6 
 
 688 
 
 ii 
 
 689 
 
 1 690 
 691 
 
 Kite 
 I " 
 694 
 695 
 696 
 697 
 ! 698 
 
 The Ballad of the Oysterinau 
 
 Sweet Home .* 
 
 Brother. Come Home 
 
 The Gladness of Nature 
 
 Room, Boys, Room Cha-. Feiiiu Hoffman 
 
 Indian Death Song I Philip Frenean 
 
 The Raven Kdgnr A linn P>e 
 
 Paper Benjamin Franklin. . 
 
 What is that, Mother s <;,.<>. W. Donne 
 
 The Frost. 
 
 Consolation of Religion to the Poor 
 
 Absalom 
 
 The West 
 
 Forest Hymn 
 
 The American Hero 
 
 Losing All The Ruined Merchant 
 
 Lexington 
 
 One Hour with Thee,. . 
 
 It is great for our Country to Die 
 
 Hannah F. Gould 
 
 J. G. Pnrival 
 
 Nathaniel 1 . Willis 
 
 G. P. Morris 
 
 W. C Bryant 
 
 Nathaniel Niles 
 
 C. M. Eager 
 
 O. W. Holmes 
 
 Sti-phi-n Griffith Gassaway 
 J. G. Percival.. 
 
 |700 
 1701 
 
 71 2 
 
 703 
 
 704 
 !?05 
 
 7(17 
 70S 
 709 
 
 710 
 712 
 713 
 715 
 717 
 718 
 .719 
 72U 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 SUBJECT. 
 
 PRAWN BY. 
 
 ENGRAVED BY. 
 
 p. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 109 
 213 
 293 
 
 363 
 429 
 511 
 571 
 599 
 653 
 
 7* 
 
 Yiornette Title 
 
 Robert O Brien... 
 Felix 0. C. Barley. 
 
 F. 0. C. Barley.. 
 F. 0. C. Darley... 
 Jamea Hamilton . . 
 
 F O C Darlev 
 
 A. II. Ritchie. 
 Eli D. Haves . 
 
 Captain Ingraham promising Kosta the Pro- 
 
 1 iancU Huper aiding Lafayette to escape 
 fruui the Austrians. . . 
 
 Elias J. Whitney.. 
 E. J. Whitney. . . . 
 E D Haves . . 
 
 Si iiin 01 away bis Liberty 
 
 
 The Mier Prisoners drawing the Fatal 
 13cau8 
 
 E D Hayes 
 
 The Thirsty Soldiers at the Salt Water. . . 
 Seizure of Judsou, the Missionary 
 The Heathen of the Five Points 
 
 F. O. C. Darley... 
 F. 0. C. Darley... 
 E.J.Whitney .... 
 F. O. C. Darley . . 
 F. 0. C. Darley... 
 
 F. 0. C. Darley. 
 is an engraving 
 
 E.J.Whitney.... 
 E. J. Whitney 
 Feltcr 
 E. J. Whitney 
 E. D.Hayes 
 
 A. II. Ritchie. 
 011 steel, 101. . by 
 
 A ictorv of the Yacht America 
 
 Vouug America Taking bis First Steps. . . 
 
 Last Words of Cnptain Nathan Halo, the 
 Hero Martyr of the American Revolu 
 tion 
 
 "Last Words of Captain Nathan Hale 
 
 i aches, and accompanies the book for the subscribers to frame. 
 
 (xi) 
 
CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, 
 
 THE HERO MARTYR 
 
 OF THE 
 
 AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 
 
 "Thus, while fond Virtue wished to save, 
 HALK, bright and generous, found a hopeless grate: 
 With Genius living flame his bosom plowed, 
 And Science lured him to her sweet abode ; 
 In Worth s fair path his feet adventured far, 
 The pride of Peace, the rising star of War; 
 In Duty firm, in Danger calm as even 
 To friends unchangiug, aud sincere to Heaven. 
 How short his course ! the prize how early won ! 
 While weeping Friendship mourns her favorite son." 
 
 THE period of the American Revolution was the heroic era in the history 
 of our country. With its great events we are all familiar; but of the stem 
 virtues of our ancestors, their patient self-denial, their enduring fortitude, 
 and their trustful hope in that time of trouble, the half can never bo 
 known. 
 
 In that charming little book, the " Fast Meridian," by Mrs. Sigourney, is 
 a simple narrative to this point, so touching that the memory of it should 
 be impressed upon the heart of every youth in the land, as an elevating 
 picture of patriotic virtue, worth more than the record of a score of battles. 
 It was told to the writer by a good and hoary -headed man, the Rev. Dr. 
 David Smith, of Durham, Connecticut, who, with unimpaired intellect and 
 cheerful piety, had passed many years beyond the allotted age of man. 
 
 11 My father was in the army during the whole eight years of the Revolu 
 tionary war, at first as a common soldier, afterward as an officer. Mv mother 
 had the sole charge of us, four little ones. Our house was a poor one, and 
 far from neighbors. I have a keen remembrance of the terrible cold of somo 
 of those winters. The snow lay so deep and long, that it was difficult to 
 cut or draw fuel from the woods, or to get our corn to the mill, when we 
 had any. My mother was the possessor of a coffee-mill. In that she 
 ground wheat, and made coarse brjad which we ate and were thankful. It 
 was not always that we could be allowed as much even of this as our keen 
 appetites craved. Many is the time that we have gone to bed with only a 
 drink of water for our supper, in which a little molasses had been mingled. 
 We patiently received it, for we knew our mother did as well for us as she 
 could, and hoped to have something better in the morning. She was never 
 
 (15) 
 
1C ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 heard to repine, and young as we were, we tried to make her lovely spirit 
 ami heavenly trust our example. When my father was permitted to romo 
 home, his stay was short, and ho had not much to leave us, for the pay of 
 those who had achieved our liberties was slight and irregularly rendered. 
 Yet, when he went, my mother ever bade him farewell with a cheerful face, 
 and not to be anxious about his children, for she would watch over them 
 night and day, and God would take care of the families of those who went 
 forth to defend the righteous cause of their country. Sometimes we won 
 dered that she did not mention the cold weather, or our short meals, or her 
 hard work, that we little ones might be clothed, and fed, and taught ; but 
 she would not weaken his hands or sadden his heart, for. she said, a sol 
 dier s lot is harder than all. \Ve saw that she never complained, but always 
 kept in her heart a sweet hope, like a well of living water. Every night 
 ere we slept, and every morning when we arose, we lifted our little hands 
 for God s blessing on our absent father and our endangered country." 
 
 The story we have to relate is alike interesting and ennobling, but yet 
 of a melancholy nature leing the most sad of all the episodes of the 
 American Revolution. It is contained in the history of the young and 
 gifted NATHAN HALE. Of that long roll of patriotic men who died that 
 we might be free, his last moments, beyond those of any other, were charac 
 terized by a sentiment so heroic, expressed under such circumstances, as to 
 render it one of the most sublime and touching utterances that ever fell 
 from human lips. 
 
 Nathan Hale was born in Coventry, Connecticut, June C, 1755. He v.f.d 
 the son of Richard Hale, a substantial farmer of that town, and a man of 
 note among his neighbors, being a justice of the peace, a deacon of the 
 church, and a member of the legislature. Young Hale was bred in that 
 strict morality characteristic of the Puritans. Early showing a fondness for 
 book?, he was prepared for college under the tuition of the venerable Rev. 
 Dr. Huntington, with the design of entering the ministry. Six years before 
 the Revolutionary war, he became a student in Yale. Little has been pre 
 served of his life there. He was noted, however, among his companions 
 for extraordinary personal activity. He accomplished a feat in leaping on 
 the New Haven Green, which so far surpassed everything of the kind before 
 known, that the distance was long preserved by appropriate marks. On an 
 other occasion, he exhibited his activity by springing out from one hogshead 
 into another, alternately. 
 
 He graduated with honor in 1773, and for a short season taught school at 
 East Haddam, where, it is said, "everybody loved him, he was so sprightly, 
 intelligent, and kind." Next he took charge of a high school in New Lon 
 don, where "he soon had as many friends as there were individuals in the 
 town." His leisure was partly given to reading and study, and partly to 
 society, for which he had great fondness. The charms of the gentler sex 
 were not lost upon him. He became ardently attached to Miss Hannah 
 Adams of his native town, whom, doubtless, he would have married, had 
 not his tragic fate intervened. 
 
 In person Hale was rather tall, being five feet ten inches in height, and 
 though slender was gracefully formed ; his frame was elastic and wiry, as 
 was shown by his extraordinary feats of agility ; his chest was broad, his 
 
OF AMERICANS. 17 
 
 face full, with blue eyes, light complexion, and brown hair. To these phys 
 ical qualities was added an amiable winning address. 
 
 Intense excitement was produced one evening in the latter part of April, 
 1775, in the usually quiet town of New London, on the arrival of a mes 
 senger, with the startling news that the "regulars" had fired upon our peo- 
 ple on the green at Lexington. " Let us march immediately, and never lay 
 down our arms until we gain our independence !" rang out the clear stern 
 voice of Nathan Hale, to the excited assemblage that had gathered on the 
 occasion. 
 
 It was no difficult matter to infuse the sentiment into the minds of all 
 present. It was resolved to send Captain Cqit s company into the fiekl, and 
 Hale volunteered to go with it. The next day, he went to his school for 
 the last time, to bid his pupils farewell. He addressed them in an appro 
 priate little speech, and closed with an earnest prayer to the Almighty for 
 his blessings on them and on their country. 
 
 A letter which he wrote at this period to the managers of the school, is 
 preserved in Stuart s Life of Hale, from which we extract it : 
 
 " Gentlemen Having received information that a place is allotted me in 
 the army, and being inclined, as I hope, for good reasons, to accept it, I am 
 constrained to ask as a favor, that which scarce anything else would have 
 induced me to, which is to be excused from keeping your school any longer. 
 For the purpose of conversing upon this subject, and of procuring another 
 master, some of your immbar think it best there should be a general meet 
 ing of the proprietors. The time talked of for holding it is six o clock this 
 afternoon, at the school-house. The year for which I engaged will expire 
 within a fortnight, so that my quitting a few days sooner, I hope, Avill sub 
 ject you to no great inconvenience. School-keeping is a business of which 
 I was always fond, but since my residence in this town, everything has con 
 spired to make it more agreeable. I have thought much of never quitting 
 it but with life, but at present there seems to be an opportunity for more ex 
 tended public service. The kindness expressed to me by the people of the 
 place, but especially the proprietors of the school, will always be very grate 
 fully remembered." 
 
 This letter shows the patriotism of Hale, his nice sense of honor, and 
 modest, unassuming nature. He also wrote to his father, whose designs for 
 him in the ministry were now frustrated, "A sense of duty urges me to 
 sacrifice everything for rny country." 
 
 Hale was commissioned as a lieutenant in Webb s Connecticut regiment. 
 This corps was first employed in guarding the seacoast, in the vicinity of 
 New London, the appearance of the British in the Sound having alarmed 
 the country. Early in the ensuing autumn, it marched to join the main 
 army under Washington, in the vicinity of Boston. In December, Hale 
 started "on foot, through snow ankle deep, to visit his friends in Connecti 
 cut." About this period he was promoted to the rank of captain. 
 
 During the winter spent in the siege of Boston, Hale became known, and 
 he "was, among all the younger officers, the one preferred for those duties 
 requiring vigilance, activity, and skill. "I see," said a friend, in a letter 
 written to him at this time, "you are stationed in the mouth of danger. I 
 rook upon your position as more perilous than that of any other officer in 
 
18 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the camp." When not engaged in military duties, Hale devoted much of 
 his time to reading, especially works on the science of war. Feeling the 
 importance of discipline, he gave such untiring attention to his men, that 
 his company soon became one of the most thoroughly drilled and orderly 
 in the service. When the American army was nearly annihilated by the 
 defeat of Long Island, and the expiration of the terms for which the sol 
 diers had enlisted, Hale generously relinquished his own pay to induce the 
 men of his company to remain. 
 
 Hale s fondness for athletic sports suffered no abatement in consequence 
 of his military pursuits, for we find him, when at leisure, engaging with his 
 brother officers in wrestling, running, jumping, and in other amusements of 
 that nature. He was also scrupulously observant of his religious duties, 
 being a regular attendant at camp worship, when such a privilege was not 
 denied by some professional duty. 
 
 In the succeeding spring (1776), the regiment to which Hale was at 
 tached proceeded, with others under the command of General Heath, to 
 the vicinity of New York. He there became the principal in a brilliant 
 little affair, from which he gained considerable eclat. In the East Rivet 
 lay a British Vessel filled with supplies for the army. Although not 
 armed, it was protected by a sixty-four gunship anchored only a few rods . 
 distant. Hale formed the project of capturing and taking her into the 
 harbor of New York. 
 
 Under cover of night, he embarked with a small party in a rowboat, and 
 dropped down near their intended prize, and then pulled in their cars to 
 wait until the moon should go down. When it was entirely dark, the little 
 party resuming their oars, silently rowed toward the doomed vessel. As 
 they approached her, the figure of a solitary sentinel was dimly seen pacing 
 the deck of the man-of-war by which the supply vessel was guarded. The 
 sentinel suddenly paused then gazed out upon the water. The approach 
 ing rowboat rested a moment, and its crew with beating hearts waited to see 
 if they were discovered. In a brief time, "All s well," was heard from 
 the lips of the lookout, as he turned and disappeared in the gloom. A 
 few more pulls with the oars and the patriots were alongside. Not a soul 
 was on deck all were below and asleep. They took possession of the ves 
 sel, fastened the sleeping sailors in the hold, and in a short time, without 
 alarming the guard of the neighboring man-of-war, noiselessly sailed away, 
 and succeeded in gaining a wharf with their fine prize, where an expectant 
 crowd greeted them with loud huzzas and the waving of hats. The vessel 
 was laden with stores of provisions and clothing, which were a valuable ac 
 quisition to the army. 
 
 ,It was at a most gloomy period of the war of independence when Hale 
 departed from the American camp, on a secret mission that sent a thrill of 
 terror through those who were aware of its nature. The disastrous defeat 
 of Long Island had just passed Harlem Heights had been deserted, and 
 White Plains had -witnessed defeat. Shattered and depressed, the Ameri 
 can army, like a crowd of fugitives, hovered around King s Bridge. The 
 victorious Howe, flushed Avith success, was pursuing an enlarged system of 
 operations, and it became evident that the concentrated forces of the in 
 vaders were to be let loose upon the rebellious colonists. But where the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 19 
 
 blow was to fall, no human sagacity could foresee. Whether they were to 
 take possession of New York, cut off the communication of the American 
 army, and claim the country by conquest, or proceed southward and make 
 a descent where no preparation would present a barrier, were questions of 
 anxious import to the American commander, and the solution of which was 
 of vital importance. With all his vigilance, he could not unravel the de 
 signs of the enemy, whose movements were purposely contradictory. Never 
 during that war, copious as are its records of difficulty, was Washington 
 more perplexed or more filled with anxiety. Finally, he concluded that 
 gome one must enter the British lines and gain the requisite information, or 
 he feared that all would be lost. 
 
 In this emergency, he applied to the brave Colonel Knowlton, of the 
 Connecticut line, for him to endeavor to obtain an officer for this service pos 
 sessing the rare union of qualities necessary to success. Knowlton assem 
 bled his officers, and made known to them the request of Washington, stat 
 ing the exigency of the case, and appealing to their patriotism, in the hope 
 that some one would volunteer for the service. No one responded. He 
 then addressed himself individually to each of those present, but with no 
 better success. Indeed, many of them seemed offended that such a request 
 should be made, in view of the danger of the mission and the ignominious 
 death that would result on detection. One of these, an officer remarkable 
 for a spirit of hazardous adventure, replied, " No, no ! I am willing at any 
 time, and on any terms, to fight the British ; but I wont go among them to 
 be hung like a dog." 
 
 Knowlton was about despairing of success, when from the assembled 
 group came the slow, firm words, " I will undertake it I" The speaker had 
 just recovered from a severe illness, and was late in joining the council, or 
 "I will undertake it," would have been heard sooner. 
 
 All eyes turned toward the speaker, and a thrill of anguish pervaded the 
 throng as they looked upon the pale, determined face of the universal fa 
 vorite, the young and noble NATHAN HALE ! They at once closed around 
 him, and remonstrated by every appeal which consideration and friendship 
 could dictate, to abandon his purpose the love of home, the ties of kin 
 dred, future fame, and a felon s death, were all in vain urged to dissuade 
 him. Among those most importunate was Lieutenant, afterward General, 
 Hull, his old classmate at Yale, who plead with him almost with tears to 
 abandon the project. Hale listened to the appeals, and replied in these 
 memorable words : 
 
 "I think I owe to my country the accomplishment of an object so impor 
 tant, and so much desired by the commander of her armies and I know of 
 no other mode of obtaining the information, than by assuming a disguise 
 and passing into the enemy s camp. I am fully sensible of the conse 
 quences of discovery and capture in such a situation, but for a year I have 
 been attached to the army, and have not rendered any material service, 
 while receiving compensation for which I make no return ; yet I am not 
 influenced by the expectation of promotion or pecuniary reward. I WISH 
 
 TO BE USEFUL, AND EVEEY KIND OF SEEVICE NECESSARY FOR THE PUBLIC 
 GOOD, BECOMES HONORABLE BY BEING NECESSARY. If the exigencies of IQy 
 
 2 
 
20 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 country demand a peculiar service, its claims to the performance of that 
 service are imperious." 
 
 This was spoken with that air of lofty heroism wh ch showed that he 
 was ready to sacrifice himself if need be, in any way, for the good of his 
 country, even by an ignominious death. Words embodying more truly the 
 soul of patriotism were never expressed. 
 
 Hale received instructions from Washington in person, upon the points 
 on which he was to obtain information. The plan was for him to cross over 
 the Sound and land on Long Island, of which the enemy had then full pos 
 session. Numerous., difficulties -were to be overcome at the very outset. 
 The Sound was filled with British cruisers, while the adjacent shores were 
 scoured by their foraging parties, so that he was liable to be apprehended at 
 any moment. If he succeeded, great benefit was to accrue to his country ; 
 if he failed, death on the gallows was to be his certain fate. He proceeded 
 to Nonvalk, a distance of fifty miles, and made arrangements there with 
 Captain Pond to have him carried in his sloop across the Sound to the Long 
 Island shore, some twenty miles distant. He assumed the disguise of a 
 school-teacher, wearing on the occasion a suit of brown cloth and a broad- 
 brimmed hat. At Norwalk, he dismissed his faithful friend Stephen Hemp- 
 stead, and embarking on board the sloop was safely landed on the oppo 
 site shore, at " The Cedars," near Huntington Bay. 
 
 In this vicinity lived the Widow Chichester, called "Mother Chick" by 
 the tories, who made her house a sort of roost during their predatory incur- 
 fcions. Quite a flock of them might usually have been seen hovering around 
 in the vicinity eager to enjoy the bounty of loyal Mother Chick. Hale 
 passed this tory haunt without difficulty, and proceeded toward the settle 
 ments. His first pause was at the house of William Johnson, whose hospi 
 tality and confidence he for a few hours enjoyed. 
 
 His exact route from thence is not known. The difficulties he encoun 
 tered the narrow escapes he ran the strategems he practiced, we can only 
 conjecture. We do know that he succeeded in reaching the British camp, 
 and in accomplishing the main object of his mission, from the drawings dis 
 covered in his possession when taken by the enemy. Doubtless his peace 
 ful demeanor and unpretending attire as a village school-master, subjected 
 him to the "jibes and jokes" of many a British red-coat, as he made his 
 way into their camps ; but it facilitated his means of acquiring information. 
 
 In the course of his investigations, it is supposed, he entered the city of 
 New York, then overrun with British soldiers, where he was every instant 
 exposed to arrest, as indeed was every citizen who went abroad without a 
 royal protection in his pocket. In such an event, he was very certain to 
 have been confined in the old " Sugar House," from whose fearful gateway 
 the "dead-cart" daily bore away its victims, who had died by starvation or 
 poison at the hands of the infamous wretches in charge. 
 
 After spending a week or more among the enemy, Hale had accomplished 
 the main objects of his enterprise. He then retraced his steps the way he 
 came, encountered the same difficulties in passing through a country in the 
 possession of the enemy, and arrived in safety at " The Cedars," where he 
 had arranged to meet a boat which was to convey him back to the Connec 
 ticut shore. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 21 
 
 It was early morning, and the bay doubtless presented to him a friendly 
 appearance. He could plainly discern the shores of his native State, rising 
 in beauty beyond the blue waters of the Sound. His perils seemed ended, 
 and his heart must have swelled with emotions of pleasure, as h 3 thought 
 that in a few hours more his feet would again press friendly soil, and he 
 should be enabled to render a great service to his country. 
 
 At length he saw, as he supposed, his boat approaching. Ho hastened to 
 the waters edge to meet it and get on board. It neared the shore and, ! 
 how cold must have grown the blood around that gallant young heart, when, 
 springing to their feet, he saw a dozen men with muskets cocked and aimed 
 at his breast, and the summons to surrender fell upon his ears. The boat 
 was a barge belonging to the Halifax, a British man-of-war anchored near 
 by, but concealed by the projection of Lloyd s Neck. 
 
 His captors took him on board the Halifax, Captain Quarme. He was 
 searched, and between the soles of his shoes were found drawings of mili 
 tary works, with descriptions in Latin. What had he, a plain school 
 master, to do with laborious profiles of intrenchments, forts, and batteries ; 
 and these the exact counterpart of those occupied by the royal army ? It 
 was evident he was a spy ! As such Captain Quarme treated him, though 
 with kindness, won by his noble bearing, and regretting, as he afterward 
 said, " that so fine a fellow had fallen into his power." 
 
 His subsequent history is soon told. He was conveyed to New York, 
 which he reached on the same day that nearly one half of it had been laid 
 in ruins by a dreadful conflagration. 
 
 He was taken into the presence of the relentless Howe. The notes found 
 in his possession, the drawings of the British works, and other information 
 collected for the use of the American commander, were proofs conclusive 
 of his guilt. Before his judge he practiced no duplicity, resorted to no sub 
 terfuge ; his garb of a achool-teacher made no screen behind which he 
 longer aimed to conceal himself from the British general. The case was 
 soon made out and judgment rendered such a one as might have been ex 
 pected signed by Howe, in the name of his royal majesty, George III. 
 He was condemned as a spy, and sentenced to be hung the next morning at 
 daybreak. 
 
 He was then conducted to prison, to reflect during the remaining few 
 hours upon his melancholy doom. Young, full of life and hope, he was 
 soon to be executed like a common felon, and sent into the presence of that 
 God whose unsearchable riches he had one day hoped to have proclaimed 
 to his fellow-men. What memories must have crowded upon him during 
 the short interval before his execution ! How through the dim past must 
 his thoughts have rolled back along the vista of his brief life, even to the 
 scenes of his boyhood! How the image of his dear mother must have 
 presented itself to him, as .he thought of the shock to her when she re 
 ceived the tidings, in her quiet New England home, that her son had been 
 hung I Then too, the image of his beautiful betrothed would appear lov 
 ingly before him, to remind him of the pure young heart his fate would 
 make desolate ! But the die was cast. To-morrow, at daybreak, he was to 
 be executed. No power could avert it. Yet he was to perish in the service 
 of h ; 3 country, and he resolved to meet death as became a Christian patriot. 
 
22 ADVENTUBES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 Major Cunningham, a brutal Irishman, whose infamous cruelties upon 
 American prisoners were so notorious, was then provost marshal of the city. 
 He declared, with an oath, that the harshest treatment was too good for 
 such " traitors to undergo." He even murdered the prisoners by poisoning 
 their food, that he might appropriate their rations to his own benefit. Such 
 was the vile wretch into whose custody Hale was given. 
 
 Their first interview was characteristic. Hale requested writing materials, 
 that he might write to his parents and friends. This was refused. He then 
 asked for the Bible, that he at least might have the benefit of religious con 
 solation. With an oath, this also was denied. A lieutenant of the royal 
 army, then present, here interposed with entreaty, and his requests were 
 finally complied with. There, on the verge of eternity, Hale for the last 
 time communed with his loved ones. It is thought he wrote three letters ; 
 one to his parents, one to his brother, and the other to his betrothed. They 
 were handed over to Cunningham for delivery. His eye ran eagerly over 
 their contents, which so incensed him that he tore them to atoms, swearing, 
 " that tlie rebels should never "know tliey had a man who could die with such 
 firmness !" 
 
 A few hours more, and the fatal morning dawned a beautiful Sabbath 
 morning, in early autumn, 1776. The gray tint that streaked the eastern 
 sky told Hale his hour had come. On many just such mornings, he had 
 looked out upon the scenery of his New England home, and felt a thrill of 
 delight ; on many such had his father gathered the little flock around his 
 hearth for family worship, to prepare them for that eternity upon whose 
 awful threshold he now stood. It was his last morning. The sun would 
 rise again, but its rays would fall upon his grave. 
 
 The provost marshal ordered the march to the place of execution to com 
 mence. With his hands tied behind him ; a convict s cap on his head ; 
 wrapped in the habiliments of the tomb ; beside the cart with his coffin ; 
 before and behind him, files of soldiers for his guard ; close by, the mu 
 latto hangman of Cunningham, with rope and ladder ; and behind, Cun 
 ningham himself; to the cadence of the "Dead March," Hale proceeded 
 to the fatal spot. 
 
 They reached the place just as the sun was rising. A large crowd had 
 assembled to witness the death of the spy. The limb of a tree was used 
 for the gallows. Hale manifested no fear as the rope was adjusted around 
 his neck. Though he was cheered by no friendly voice, the fire of freedom 
 animated his bosom with holy inspiration. He mounted firmly upon the 
 ladder on that still Sabbath morning, and looked calmly over the large as 
 semblage. Nowhere did he meet a glance of recognition, but on all sides 
 he saw sympathizing hearts. The men were sad, and here and there the 
 tear rolled down the cheek, expressive of the keenest compassion ; while 
 the women, as they gazed upon the face of one so young and noble, gave 
 vent to their overcharged feelings in sobs and lamentations. 
 
 The arrangements being completed, Cunningham, in coarsest tones of 
 fiend-like triumph, demanded of " the rebel " his " dying speech and con 
 fession ;" evidently in the hope that the young man would make some 
 remark that he would be able to turn into ridicule for the amusement of the 
 depraved among the by-standers. Bitter, however, was his disappointment 
 
OF AMERICANS. 23 
 
 At the thought of instant death, the face of Hale lit up with an expression 
 of holy patriotism, and, in a clear, manly voice, he spake these heroic 
 words : 
 
 "MY ONLY REGRET IS, THAT I HAVE BUT ONE LIFE TO LOSE FOR 
 MY COUNTRY !" 
 
 Stung by this unexpected speech, the enraged Cunningham exclaimed : 
 " Swing tJie rebel up Swing tlie rebel up /" and, in a moment more, the 
 spirit of Nathan Hale had passed from earth. 
 
 The circumstances of this tragedy were officially conveyed to the Ameri 
 can head-quarters by Colonel Mantaznar, of the British army, and as much 
 publicitv as possible given to it by the royal officers, so as to intimidate such 
 hardy spirits in the future. The address with which Hale penetrated their 
 garrisons and camps, and the heroic manner in which he met his fate, in 
 spired the enemy with admiration, and made them feel that the subjugation 
 of an army of such men was not an easy task. Even the brutal Cunning 
 ham, in his drunken bestiality, when with his boon companions, alluded to 
 his conduct on the gallows in warm terms of commendation. 
 
 Among those present at the execution, was Tunis Bogart, an honest 
 farmer of Long Island, who had been impressed as a wagoner in the British 
 service. In 1784, on being asked to witness a public execution, then about 
 to take place, this man replied, " No ! I have .seen one man hung as a spy," 
 alluding to Hale, "and that was enough for me. I have never been able to 
 efface the scene of horror from my mind it rises up to my imagination 
 always. That old devil-catcher, Cunningham, was so brutal, and hung him 
 up as a butcher would a calf ! The women sobbed aloud, and Cunningham 
 swore at them for it, and told them they likely enough themselves would 
 come to the same fate." 
 
 Washington knew Hale well, and when he responded to the appeal of 
 Knowlton, he expressed a regret that it had not fallen to the lot of one less 
 gifted. His death deeply pained him, and he felt that an irreparable loss 
 had been sustained. Nor to him alone were these feelings confined. Hale 
 was well known in the army a brother among the officers, beloved by all. 
 A thrill of anguish went through the lines as his fate was told, and every 
 brow was sad. But what must have been the agony produced in that home 
 circle, where he was an object of so much affection ! In the simple words 
 of one who knew them well, "It almost killed his parents." Though they 
 approved of the spirit which induced their son to enter the army, they 
 looked forward, with hopeful pride, to the time when the banner of liberty 
 would be triumphant, and he would enlist under that of the Cross. But 
 the blow had fallen. Nathan was dead ! and such a death ! the death of 
 a spy ! The betrothed of Hale, Miss Hannah Adams, remarkable for her 
 bea Hty and accomplishments, lived to old age, and died exclaiming, " Write 
 to Nathan !" Thus his youthful image was blended with her latest recol 
 lections. 
 
 Nor, in this connection, must be forgotten Hale s faithful camp attendant, 
 Asher Wright. He mourned his fate with more than a brother s sorrow. 
 Although he lived seventy years after the sad occurrence, he never lost its 
 vivid recollection, and wept as a very child whenever it was alluded to 
 
24: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 having oecome partially insane, in consequence of his continual brooding 
 over the melancholy tragedy. 
 
 A lofty monument of granite rises to the memory of Nathan Hale in the 
 burial-place of his native town. There, among the graves of a simple- 
 hearted rural people, overlooking a beautiful lake, stands this memorial of a 
 young man, whose short life of twenty-one years ended in so much of sor- 
 sow ; and who, dying the ignominious death of a spy, was rudely thrust 
 into an. unknown and an unhonored grave ! 
 
 The death of Andre and that of Hale have often been compared. Each 
 was young, in the morning of life, full of hope, ardent, accomplished, and 
 possessed of those qualities that won all hearts. Each died bravely, and 
 each was executed as a spy; but there terminates all similitude between them. 
 The first was treated by his enemies with the greatest consideration and 
 sympathy compatible with his offense : the latter, with the greatest barbar 
 ity, denied even the consolation of the Bible, and then hung " as a butcher 
 Avould hang a calf." Andre entered on his mission without the expectation, 
 if arrested, of being treated as a spy : Hale entered on his mission under a 
 full sense of his awful peril. At his place of execution, the thoughts of the 
 Englishman were upon himself, for he wished them " to bear witness that he 
 died like a brave man :" at his place of execution, the thoughts of the Amer 
 ican were upon his country, for which he " regretted he had only one life to 
 lose !" The one showed the heroism of the chivalrous soldier, who shrank 
 only at the disgraceful mode of his death : the other showed the heroism 
 of the Christian patriot, willing to die even an ignominious death for the 
 good of his country. The name of Andre is known wherever the English 
 language is spoken : but that of Hale, the greater hero, is scarcely know a 
 even to his own countrymen ! 
 
 This sketch is prefaced with lines written by one who knew Hale well, 
 and loved him with ardent affection the celebrated Dr. Dwight, President 
 of Yale College. On the first page of our collection of poetry, at the latter 
 part of this work, are " Lines on the Death of Hale," from the pen of 
 Francis Miles Finch, a graduate of Yale. They from part of a poem de 
 livered by him before the Linonian Society of Yale, at its centennial 
 anniversary, A. D. 1853. Nathan Hale, when a student, was a mem 
 ber of this society ; and among the eminent names found on its rolls, there 
 is none, in all coming time, that will probably be more revered than that of 
 the young " Hero Martyr of the American Revolution." 
 
THE ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 OF SOM EOF THE 
 
 EARLY AMERICAN ARTISTS 
 
 WEST STUAKT TKUMBU^L 
 
 WE outline three incidents as an introduction to this article. The first 
 occurred in a Western State, on an autumnal evening. A gentleman, having 
 finished his office labors for the day, strolled into the garden with his 
 young wife, when her attention was attracted by a huge mass of clouds, 
 lit up by the last rays of the sun, in hues of crimson and gold ; save in one 
 spot, where an opening in the parted rifts caught the eye, and led the vision 
 to such an apparently iirirnense distance beyond, that it seemed like a 
 glance into eternity. 
 
 " Look ! pray do look at that sky ! " exclaimed the admiring lady to her 
 companion, who happened that moment to be in a bent attitude, his tall 
 form arrayed in gown and slippers, and his fingers busy poking in the 
 ground. " Pooh ! pooh ! never mind the sky," he replied, " here, just look 
 at my roota-bagas ; I shall get at least twenty bushels out of this patch ! " 
 
 The scene changes ; and to the heart of New England, in the first days 
 of June. " Nature uncorks her champaign only twice a day," says a popu 
 lar writer, " morning and evening." It was early morning and the cork 
 had " pop t." A young man was sitting in the door of a quaint old farm 
 house, looking upon the valley of the smooth gliding Connecticut. The 
 shadows were long upon the landscape, then in the freshness of the new 
 born spring. The foreground was occupied by a massive group of ancient 
 trees, laughing in their green old age, in robes of luxuriant foliage ; while 
 beyond, the grass-covered fields sloped away in picturesque curves down 
 to the margin of the river, which lay bright and sparkling in its winding 
 course. On the opposite side of the valley, arose the fine hills of old 
 Hampshire, here in light and there in shadow, at the caprice of a bank of 
 whi-te, woolly clouds, that, floating grandly in the heavens, seemed soft and 
 inviting to the nap of a summer s afternoon. 
 
 As the eye of the young man took in the glories of the panorama, valley, 
 river, mountain, and sky, a sensation of pleasure stole over him ; the first of 
 the kind for so he told us he had ever experienced ; it was the emotion 
 created by the beautiful in Nature. 
 
 The opening incident was in the history of a lawyer, and a graduate of 
 Harvard ; this, in that of a clergyman, and a graduate of Yale ; both im 
 press us as to the esthetical culture of those renowned American uni 
 versities. 
 
 (25) 
 
26 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " I care nothing for pictures," said a farmer to a young man who was endea 
 voring to entice him into the purchase of a book, " illustrated by many pic 
 tures," "pointing morals and adorning tales." He spake the truth, for as 
 he said so, his nostrils sniveled in a sneer, and his head jerked in a dis 
 dainful toss. He despised them as puerile ; yet, as he had never wandered far 
 beyond the sight of his chimney smoke, his brain held many good ideas 
 solely derived from pictures ; including the idea of the great wall in China, 
 that in his boyhood he had from his school geography, to the idea of a 
 newly invented plow he had seen in his newspaper, and that was then 
 doing good service for him in his manly occupation as a tiller of the soil. 
 
 These incidents are true ; and yet, among persons of equal intelligence, 
 unlikely to occur in any country save our own. Americans have less fond 
 ness for the beautiful in Nature, and less appreciation of the excellent in 
 Art, than any other civilized people. In the summer, when Young America 
 takes his holiday, he will be found in the finest apparel, his feet pinched in 
 patent leather, lounging under some piazza at a crowded watering-place ; 
 or if he does ruralize, it is in the utter forgetfulness of legs ; for he is whirl 
 ing, in a slender cariole, over a straight hard road, amid clouds of dust, and 
 behind a 2:40 nag, out of whom he is straining to get his mile within 2:39. 
 
 At the same time, in England, multitudes will be seen, all over the coun 
 try, from the nobleman to the shop-keeper s clerk on his vacation, dressed 
 in coarse checked suits and stout shoes, with their knapsacks, traveling on 
 foot, and carrying opera-glasses ; seeking out fine points of view, from 
 whence to enjoy the ever-varying, never-repeating combinations of scenery, 
 created expressly for our gratification, by a common Father. On the con 
 tinent, poverty may deny to the humble peasant the many comforts we 
 possess, but it cannot deprive him of the visible glories of Nature, or of the 
 great in Art, that he sees in the cathedral where he worships, and in tho 
 galleries around him, free and open to all. He thus becomes familiar with 
 the names of artists ; he is taught by their representations, and as he looks 
 at Art, he is educated to look at Nature and then again at Art, until by re 
 ciprocation, from one to the other, a new sense is developed, and he grows 
 appreciative alike in the works of God and in those of man. 
 
 The life of the American has been hard and dry. He commenced in 
 poverty, and what with the felling of the forest, and the elbowing away of 
 the Indian to give him room, he has thought of little else. He has not 
 tarried to take a lesson of patience from his ox, that calmly chewed the 
 cud under the yoke ; nor one of enjoyment from the little robin, that cheerily 
 sang all the day long in the tree near where he labored. Ever hurrying on, 
 restless and nervous, applying to work with a never before known intensity, 
 he brings up at length at the end of his days, without scarcely a single 
 pause by the way, to inquire for what he has lived. He " has eyes, but he 
 Bees not ; " he " has ears, but hears not ; " seeing nothing nor hearing 
 nothing, but bending all his energies, body and soul, to the one great end 
 " the main chance." 
 
 This is wrong. "Man was not made to live by bread alone." Those 
 finer faculties, our tastes, the love of Nature, Art, Poetry, and Music, were 
 given to be cultivated, and the pauses to administer to them, are the rest 
 ing-places in this not altogether work- day- world. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 27 
 
 Art is so little appreciated among us, that scarcely a name of a successful 
 American artist has impressed the American people at large, save perhaps 
 one, a sculptor, and he only because he is said to have excelled all European 
 cotemporaries in the carving of a nude female figure. A change is to ensue, 
 The flush of a new dawn is shooting upward. And we trust the day will 
 soon arrive, when the walls of even the cottages of the land will generally 
 be attractive, from pleasant pictures of landscapes, of instructive scenes in 
 history, and heart-improving delineations of domestic life. 
 
 America has produced some artists of note ; enough to show that this 
 kind of talent, when required among us, will be forthcoming, and in no 
 stinted measure. Possibly, at this moment, somewhere in the dark pine for 
 ests of Minnesota, or by the shores of the rolling Atlantic, or on the sunny 
 slopes of the Alleghanies, is a white-headed, hatless, and bare-footed lit 
 tle urchin, playing in the sand before the door of a rude cabin, who is 
 marked for a great career in Art ; to bless the future of our people by a 
 matchless genius in illustrating the heroic in American annals, or by touch 
 ing pictures of American life, that shall sweetly influence to a more vivid 
 appreciation and love of home. 
 
 So little at an early day was Art cultivated in our country, that our men 
 of genius in this line were obliged to seek a field for their efforts mainly in 
 Europe. We introduce the histories of a few of these. 
 
 BENJAMIN WEST. 
 
 Something more than a century since, the screams of a cat in sore distress 
 issued from the farm-house of a Quaker, in Springfield, Chester county, Penn 
 sylvania ; and she had cause, for little "Benny" West held her in his grip, 
 and was pulling out her fur by the roots, to make his paint brushes from ; 
 genius was working in him, and poor puss had to suffer. When her hair 
 was drawn through a goose quill, it answered his purpose very well. His 
 resources for paints were the wandering Indians, who supplied him with 
 the red and yellow earths with which they daubed their skins, and his 
 mother s indigo pot, from which he got his blue color. 
 
 He early showed a fondness for Art. In 1745, when he was but seven 
 years old, he was placed with a fly-brush to watch the sleeping infant of 
 his eldest sister. As he sat there the child smiled in sleep. Struck by its 
 beauty he attempted to draw its portrait in red and black ink. His sober 
 parents encouraged this new taste, and in a little while, the quiet Quaker 
 home was filled with his pictorial efforts. 
 
 A Mr. Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, made a visit to Chester 
 county, where he saw some of these sketches of the boy-artist, and when 
 he returned home he sent him a present worth more to him than a king 
 dom "a box of paints and brushes, and several pieces of canvas prepared, 
 and six engravings by Greveling." These were the first works or imple 
 ments of Art the boy had ever seen. " West placed the box on a chair by 
 Bis bedside, and he was unable to sleep. He rose with the dawn, carried 
 his canvas and colors to the garret, hung up the engravings, prepared a 
 palette, and commenced copying. So completely was he under the control 
 
23 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of this species of enchantment, that he absented himself from school, 
 labored secretly and incessantly for several days, when the anxious inqui 
 ries of the schoolmaster introduced his mother to his studio with no pleasure 
 in l^er looks, but her anger vanished as she looked upon his performance. 
 He had avoided copyism, and made a picture composed from two of the en 
 gravings, telling a new story, and colored with a skill and effect that was in 
 her sight surprising. " She kissed him," says Gait, who had the story 
 from the artist, " with transports of affection, and assured him that she 
 would not only intercede with his father to pardon him for having absented 
 himself from school, but would go herself to the master and beg that ha 
 might not be punished." 
 
 When West was nine years of age, Peunington took him to Philadelphia, 
 and introduced him to Williams, a portrait painter, who was so much de 
 lighted with a landscape that he had painted, that he warmlj encouraged 
 him to prosecute his studies. He gave him a couple of Ix/ukr . and an in 
 vitation to call whenever he pleased and see his pictures. 
 
 The books and the pictures made the love of Art overcome all other 
 feelings, and he returned home resolved to become t painter. Williams 
 pictures, which were "the first specimens of true i/c the boy had seen, 
 affected West so much that he burst into tears." 
 
 A story well authenticated is told by all his biog.-.aphers, which goes to 
 show that Benjamin was quite an ambitious littlw fellow for a Quaker. 
 " One of his school-fellows allured him on a hall -holiday from trap and 
 ball, by promising him a rule to a neighboring p.antatiori. Here is tho 
 horse, bridled and saddled, said his friend, so come, get up behind me. 
 Behind you, said Benjamin; I will ride behind nobody. Oh! very 
 \vell, replied the other, I will ride behind you ; so mount. He mounted 
 accordingly and away they rode. This is the last ride I shall have, said 
 his companion, for some time. To-morrow I am to be appenticed to a 
 tailor. A tailor! exclaimed West; you will surely never be a tailor. 
 Indeed, but I shall, replied the other ; it is a good trade. What do you 
 intend to be, Benjamin? A painter. A painter! What sort of a trade 
 is a painter? I never heard of it before. A painter, said this humble son 
 of a Pennsylvania Quaker, is the companion of kings and emperors. You 
 are surely mad, said the embryo tailor, there are neither kings nor emperors 
 in America. Aye, but there are plenty in other parts of the world. And 
 do you really intend to be a tailor? * Indeed I do nothing surer. Then 
 you may ride alone, said the future companion of kings and emperors, 
 leaping down ; I will not ride with one willing to be a tailor ! " 
 
 A gentleman by the name of Flower, who lived in a neighboring town, 
 saw some of West s first pictures, and was so well pleased with the boy 
 that he invited him to visit his house. There he met a young Eng 
 lish lady, who was governess to his daughter. She was well acquainted 
 with Art, and also intimate with Greek and Latin Poets, and loved to point 
 out to the young artist the most picturesque passages. He had never before 
 heard of Greece or of Eome, or of the heroes, philosophers, poets, painters, 
 and historians, whom they had produced, and he listened while the lady 
 spoke of them, with an enthusiasm which, after an experience of nearly 
 seventy years in the world he loved to live over again. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 29 
 
 His fame spread to Lancaster, where he was soon employed to paint por 
 traits. A Lancaster gunsmith, Mr. Joseph Henry, commissioned him to 
 paint the Death of Socrates. The artist knew none too much about tha 
 personage he was going to paint, and the gunsmith read to him a few pas 
 sages which spoke about hemlock and the philosopher. Once possessed of 
 the idea, he began to work it out on canvas. The gunsmith gave him one 
 of his men to stand for a model, and in due time this first historical picture 
 of Benjamin West was finished. 
 
 When West was fifteen years of age, Dr. Smith, Provost of the College 
 of Philadelphia, proposed to his father to send his son to that city where he 
 kindly offered to direct his studies. But before this Quaker father gave up 
 his boy to the "worldly occupation of painting," he felt it to be his duty 
 to lay the matter before the society of which he was a member. The soci 
 ety assembled and waited for the moving of the spirit. It was a serious 
 question with those serious men and women, whether they could give 
 their consent that one of their own members should wander from the fold, 
 to pursue an art which " had hitherto been employed to embellish life, to 
 preserve voluptuous images, and add to the sensual gratifications of man." 
 
 " The spirit of speech first descended on one John Williamson To 
 John West and Sarah Persons, said this Western Luminary, a man-child 
 hath been born, on whom God hath conferred some remarkable gifts of 
 mind and you have all heard that, by something amounting to inspiration, 
 the youth has been induced to study the Art of Painting. It is true that 
 our tenets refuse to own the utility of that art to mankind ; but it seemeth 
 to me that we have considered the matter too nicely. God has bestowed 
 on this youth a genius for Art shall we question His wisdom? Can we 
 believe that He gives such rare gifts but for a wise and good purpose? I see 
 the Divine hand in this ; we shall do well to sanction the art and eilcourage 
 this youth. " 
 
 The assembly seems to have felt the force of these words, and the young 
 painter was called in. He entered and took his station in the middle of the 
 room, his father on his right hand and his mother on the left, surrounded 
 by a company of simple-hearted worshipers. A female spoke for in the 
 Society of Friends the pride of man has fastened no badge of servitude 
 upon woman. * There seemed to be but one opinion. If painting had been 
 employed hitherto only "to preserve voluptuous images, in wise and pure 
 hands it may rise in the scale of moral excellence, and display a loftiness 
 of sentiment, and a devout dignity worthy of the contemplation of Christians. 
 Genius is given by God for some high purpose what that purpose is let us 
 not inquire it will be manifest in His own good time and way. He hath 
 in this remote wilderness endowed with the rich gifts of a superior spirit 
 this youth, who has now our consent to cultivate his talents for Art. May 
 it be demonstrated in his life and works, that the gifts of God have not been 
 bestowed in vain nor the motives of the beneficent inspiration, which induces 
 us to suspend the strict operation of our tenets, prove barren of religious and 
 moral effect." "At the conclusion of this address, the women rose and kissed 
 the young artist and the men one by one laid their hands on his head." 
 
 West pursued his studies at Philadelphia with an untiring devotion until 
 summoned to the bedside of his dying mother. He arrived just in tima 
 
30 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 to receive the welcome of her eyes, and her mute blessing. His affection 
 and veneration for his mother was undying. When he was old and gray, 
 he recalled her looks and dwelt on her expressions of fondness and of hope, 
 with a sadness which he neither wished to subdue nor conceal. While the 
 companion of princes and noblemen, he used to go from scenes of splendor 
 and gayety, and around his fireside talk to some kind friend about his 
 mother. 
 
 The tie that held him to home was now broken, an.d he left it to go out 
 into the great world, to win fame and court fortune among strangers. Ha 
 was eighteen years of age when he returned to Philadelphia to establish 
 himself as a portrait painter. His merit was great and he had abundant 
 employment ; first in that city, and then in New York, where he remained 
 nearly a year. 
 
 His extreme youth, the peculiar circumstances of his history, and his un 
 doubted merit brought him many sitters. Young as he was, he had the 
 sagacity to see that travel influenced the public opinion, and that study, 
 and long study, was necessary for him if he really wished to excel. He 
 knew that the master- works of art were in other lands, and on Rome es 
 pecially he had already set his heart. 
 
 The Italian harvest having failed, a consignment of wheat and flour 
 was sent from Philadelphia to Italy, and put under the charge of one of the 
 Aliens, who offered West a passage to Leghorn. It happened that a New 
 York merchant, of the name of Kelly, was at that time sitting to West for 
 his portrait, and to this gentleman the artist spoke of his intended journey, 
 and represented how much he expected a year or two of study in Rome 
 would improve his skill and taste. Kelly paid him for his portrait, gave 
 him a letter to his agents in Philadelphia, shook him by the hand, and 
 wished him a good voyage. Ere he reached his native, place, after an ab 
 sence of eleven months, all the arrangements for his departure had been 
 completed by Smith ; and when he presented the letter of Kelly, he found 
 that it contained an order from that generous merchant to his agent to pay 
 him fifty guineas "a present to aid in his equipment for Italy." Thus all 
 things seemed to conspire for the furtherance of the youth s advancement 
 in the road to wealth and honor, for he found friends eager to assist him 
 at every step. 
 
 West, like most men of any imagination wno visit Rome, was always 
 fond of describing his first impressions. He had walked on while his trav 
 eling companion was baiting the horses, and had reached a rising ground, 
 which offered him a view far and wide. The sun was newly risen, all was 
 calm and clear, and he saw before him a spacious champaign bounded by 
 green hills, and in the rnidst a wilderness of noble ruins, over which tow 
 ered the nobler dome of St. Peters. A broken column at his feet, which 
 served as a mile-stone, informed him that he was within eight thousand 
 paces of the ancient mistress of the world, and a sluggish boor, clad in 
 rough goat-skins, driving his flocks to pasture amid the ruins of a temple, 
 told him how far she had fallen. In the midst of a revery, in which he 
 was comparing the treacherous peasants of the Campagna with the painted 
 barbarians of North America, he entered Rome. This was on the 10th of 
 July, 1760, and in the twenty-second year of his age. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 31 
 
 When it was known that a young American had come to Rome to study 
 Raphael and Michael Angelo, some curiosity was excited among the Roman 
 virtuosi. 
 
 Many seemed to consider the young American as at most a better kind 
 of savage ; and, accordingly, were curious to watch him. They wished 
 to try what effect the Apollo, the Venus, and the works of Raphael would 
 have upon -him, and " thirty of the most magnificent equipages in the 
 capital of Christendom, and filled with some of the most erudite characters 
 in Europe/ says Gait, " conducted the young Quaker to view the master 
 pieces of Art. It was agreed that the Apollo should first be submitted to 
 his view; the statute was inclosed in a case, and when the keeper thiew 
 open the doors, West unconsciously exclaimed, "My God a young Mo 
 hawk warrior ! " The Italians were surprised and mortified with the com 
 parison of their noblest statute to a wild savage ; and West, perceiving the 
 unfavorable impression, proceeded to remove it. He described the Mo 
 hawks the natural elegance and admirable symmetry of their persons the 
 elasticity of their limbs, and their motions free and unconstrained. " I have 
 seen them often," he continued, "standing in the very attitude of this 
 Apollo, and pursuing with an intense eye the arrow which they had just 
 discharged from the bow." The Italians cleared their moody brows, and 
 allowed that a better criticism had rarely been pronounced. West was no 
 (onger a barbarian. 
 
 Of his claim to mix with men of genius, however, he had as yet sub 
 mitted no proof; he had indeed shown his drawings to Mengs and to 
 Hamilton, but they were, as he confessed, destitute of original merit ; nor, 
 indeed, could they be commended for either neatness or accuracy. He 
 waited on Lord Grantham " I cannot," said he, " produce a finished sketch, 
 like the other students, because I have never been instructed in drawing ; 
 but I can paint a little, and if you will do me the honor to sit for your por 
 trait, that I may show it to Mengs, you will do me a great kindness." His 
 lordship consented ; the portrait was painted ; and, the name of the artist 
 being kept secret, the picture was placed in the gallery of Crespigni, 
 where amateurs and artists were invited to see it. It was known that 
 Lord Grantham was sitting to Mengs, and to him some ascribed the portrait, 
 though they thought the coloring surpassed his other compositions. Dance, 
 an Englishman of sense and acuteness, looked at it closely ; " the coloring 
 surpasses that of Mengs," he observed, "but the drawing is neither so fine 
 nor so good." The company engaged eagerly in the discussion ; Crespigni 
 seized the proper moment, and sa,id, "It is not painted by Mengs." "By 
 whom then? " they exclaimed, " for there is no other painter in Rome capa 
 ble of doing anything so good." "By that young gentleman," said the 
 other, turning to West, who sat uneasy and agitated. The English held 
 out their hands ; the Italians ran and embraced him. 
 
 Mengs himself soon arrived ; he looked at the picture, and spoke with 
 great kindness. " Young man, you have no occasion to come to Rome to 
 learn to paint." 
 
 One day West was conversing in the British Coffee-House, when an old 
 man with a guitar suspended from, his shoulders, offered his services as an 
 improvisator bard. " Here is an American," said the companion of West, 
 
32 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " come to study the Fine Arts in Rome ; take him for your theme, and it ia 
 a, magnificent one." The old man burst into a song. " I behold," he sung, 
 " in this youth an instrument chosen by Heaven to create in his native 
 country a taste for those Arts which have elevated the nature of man an 
 assurance that his land will be the refuge of science and knowledge, when 
 in the old age of Europe, they shall have forsaken her shores. All things 
 of heavenly origin move westward, and Truth and Art have their periods 
 of light and darkness. Rejoice, Rome, for thy spirit immortal and uncle- 
 caved, now spreads toward a new world, where, like the soul of man in Par 
 adise, it will be perfected more and more." 
 
 West visited Florence, Bologna, and Venice, carefully studying all the 
 works of the great masters those beautiful cities contain. At Parma he 
 was elected a Member of the Academy he painted for the Academy a. 
 copy of the St. Jerome of Corregio, " of such excellence, that the reigning 
 prince desired to see the artist. He went to court, and, to the utter confu 
 sion of the attendants, appeared with his hat on. The prince was a lover 
 of William Penn, and received the young artist with complacency, and 
 dismissed him with many expressions of regard. During his visits to 
 Florence and Bologna he had also received the honors of their Academies. 
 
 When he returned to Rome, he painted a picture of " Cimon and Iphige- 
 nia," and another of "Angelica and Medora." These works established his 
 reputation in Italy. He had no rival in Italy but Mengs and Pornpeo Bafc- 
 toni, and he soon left those painters for behind him. After four years of 
 study and triumph in that unfortunate but beautiful land, he turned his 
 face toward the Alps, with a determination to visit England and then return 
 to his native country but he little knew how brilliant a career he was to 
 run. 
 
 He arrived in London, June 20, 1763, and at a most auspicious period; 
 for there was hardly an historical painter of genius then engaged in his Art 
 in Great Britain. But before he could succeed he had to create a new taste. 
 Such was the prejudice against everything modern, that no Englishman 
 would have dared to have hung up any modern picture in his house, unless 
 it was a portrait. 
 
 A successful beginning, and the promise of full employment induced 
 him to resolve on remaining in the Old Country. But he was attached to a 
 young lady in his native land absence had augmented his regard, and he 
 wished to return to Philadelphia, marry her, and bring her to England. 
 He disclosed the state of his affections to his friends, who took a less ro 
 mantic view of the matter, advised the artist to stick to his easel, and 
 arranged the whole so prudently, that the lady came to London accompanied 
 bv a relation whose time was not so valuable as West s, and they were mar 
 ried. 
 
 Dr. Drummond, the Archbishop of York, a dignified and liberal prelate, 
 and an admirer of painting, invited West to his table, conversed with him 
 on the influence of Art, and on the honor which the patronage of genius 
 reflected on the rich, and opening Tacitus, pointed out that fine passage 
 where Agrippina lands with the ashes of Germanicus. He caused his soa 
 to read it again and again, commented upon it with taste and feeling, and 
 requested West to make him a painting of that subject. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 33 
 
 When the work was being proceeded with, the archbishop sought and ob 
 tained an audience of his majesty, then young and unacquainted with care* 
 informed him that a devout American and Quaker had painted, at his re 
 quest, such a noble picture that he was desirous to secure his talents for the 
 throne and the country. The king was much interested with the story, and 
 said, " Let me see this ycung painter of yours with his Agrippina as soon as 
 you please." 
 
 A gentleman was sent from the palace to request West s attendance with 
 the picture of Agrippina. "His majesty," said the messenger, "is a young 
 man of great simplicity and candor ; sedate in his affections, scrupulous in 
 forming private friendships, good from principle, and pure from a sense of 
 the beauty of virtue." Forty years intercourse, we might almost say friend 
 ship, confirmed to the painter the accuracy of these words. 
 
 The king received West with easy frankness, assisted him to place the 
 Agrippina in a favorable light, removed the attendants, and brought in the 
 queen, to whom he presented our Quaker. He related to her majesty the 
 history of the picture, and bade her notice the simplicity of the design and 
 the beauty of the coloring. " There is another noble Roman subject," ob 
 served his majesty, "the departure of Regulus from Rome would it not 
 make a fine picture?" "It is a magnificent subject," said the painter. 
 "Then," said the king, "you shall paint it forme." He turned with a 
 smile to the queen, and said, " The archbishop made one of his sons read 
 Tacitus to Mr. West, but I will read Livy to him myself^-that part where 
 he describes the departure of Regulus." So saying, he read the passage 
 very gracefully, and then repeated his command that the picture should be 
 painted. 
 
 West was too prudent not to wish to retain the sovereign s good opinion 
 and his modesty and his merit deserved it. The palace doors now seemed 
 to open of their own accord, and the domestics attended with an obedient 
 start to the wishes of him whom the king delighted to honor. There are 
 minor matters which sometimes help a man on to fame ; and in these too 
 he had his share. West was a skillful skater, and in America had formed 
 an acquaintance on the ice with Colonel, afterward too well known in the 
 colonial war as General, Howe; this friendship had dissolved with the 
 thaw, and was forgotten, till one day the painter, having tied on his skates 
 at the Serpentine, was astonishing the timid practitioners of London by the 
 rapidity of his motions, and the graceful figure which he cut. Some one 
 cried, " West ! West ! " it was Colonel Howe. " I am glad to see you, - 
 said he, " and not the less so that you come in good time to vindicate my 
 praises of American skating." He called to him Lord Spencer Hamilton 
 and some of the Cavendishes, to whom he introduced West as one of the 
 Philadelphia prodigies, and requested him to show them what was called 
 " The Salute." He performed this feat so much to their satisfaction, that 
 they went away spreading the praises of the American skater over London. 
 Nor was the considerate Quaker insensible to the value of such commenda 
 tions ; he continued to frequent the Serpentine, and to gratify large crowds 
 by cutting the Philadelphia Salute. Many to their praise of his skating 
 added panegyrics on his professional skill, and not a few, to vindicate theii 
 applause, followed him to his easel, and sat for their portraits. 
 
34 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 While West was painting the Departure of Regulus, the present Roya. 
 Academy was planned, and in its first exhibition appeared the Regulus. A 
 change was now to be effected in the character of British Art ; hitherto 
 historical painting had appeared in a masking habit; the actions of English 
 men seemed all to have been performed, if costume were to be believed, by 
 Greeks or by Romans. West dismissed at once this pedantry, and restored 
 nature and propriety in his noble work of "The Death of Wolfe." The 
 multitude acknowledged its excellence at once. The lovers of old art, the 
 manufacturers of compositions called by courtesy classical, complained of 
 the barbarism of boots, and buttons, and blunderbusses, and cried out for 
 naked warriors, with bows, bucklers, and battering-rams. Lord Grovenor, 
 disregarding the frowns of the amateurs, and the, at best, cold approbation 
 of the Academy, purchased this work, which, in spite of laced coats and 
 cocked hats, is one of the best of our historical pictures. The Indian war 
 rior watching the dying hero, to see if he equaled in fortitude the children 
 of the deserts, is a fine stroke of nature and poetry. 
 
 West had now obtained the personal confidence of the king, and the 
 favor of the public. His majesty employed him to paint a series of his 
 torical pictures for the palace, and when the king grew weary of these sub 
 jects, he took new ground and appealed to the religious feelings of the 
 royal patron. 
 
 He suggested to the king a series of pictures on the Progress of Revealed 
 Religion. He selected eighteen subjects from the Old, and eighteen from 
 the New Testament. They were all sketched, and twenty-eight executed, 
 for which in all West received upward of twenty-one thousand pounds. 
 A work so varied, and so noble in its nature, was never before undertaken 
 by any painter. 
 
 When the war broke out between England and her colonies, the feelings 
 of West were sorely tried. His early friends and present patrons were in 
 volved in the bloody controversy. He was too much in the palace and 
 alone with his majesty, to avoid some allusion to the strife. It is to the 
 credit of that monarch that he never allowed the political opinions of West 
 to interfere with his admiration of him as an artist, or his friendship for him 
 as a man. 
 
 Professor Morse relates an interesting anecdote about West and George 
 III. The professor found West copying a portrait of the king. " This pic 
 ture," said the old painter, " is remarkable for one circumstance : the king 
 was sitting to me for it when a messenger brought him the Declaration of 
 Independence. " It may be supposed that the question, " How did he re 
 ceive the news?" was asked. " He was agitated at first," said AVest ; "then 
 sat silent and thoughtful. At length, he said, Well, if they cannot bo 
 happy under my government, I hope they may not change it for a worse. 
 I wish them no ill. " If such was George III, wo find no difficulty in re 
 conciling his attachment to Benjamin West, with the American s honest 
 love of his native land. 
 
 When Sir Joshua Reynolds diect, the choice of the Royal Academy fell 
 on West, and he was elected president with the "ready assent of the king." 
 British writers seem to have had but one opinion on the propriety of this 
 choice there was no man in Great Britain whose title to the honor was so 
 
OF AMERICANS. 35 
 
 clear. The king offered him on this occasion the honor of knighthood. 
 Every American will rejoice that he rejected the nick-name. It had been 
 the custom to confer this honor on the most distinguished painter in Eng 
 land. West was the only man who declined the title. Englishmen still 
 call this American "Sir Benjamin." Well, as long as they do not know 
 how such a " nick-name " belittles a man like West, we must overlook it. 
 
 The new president delivered many discourses, all more or less distin 
 guished for plain practical sense. He pressed upon the students the value 
 of knowledge and the necessity of study, and the uselessness of both with 
 out a corresponding aptitude of mind and buoyancy of imagination in 
 other words, genius. He advised them to give heart and soul wholly to art, 
 to turn aside neither to the right nor to the left, but consider that hour lost 
 in which a line had not been drawn, nor a masterpiece studied. " Observe," 
 he said, " with the same contemplative eye, the landscape, the appearance 
 of trees, figures dispersed around, and their aerial distance as well as lineal 
 forms. Omit not to observe the light and shade in consequence of the sun s 
 rays being intercepted by clouds or other accidents. Let your mind be 
 familiar with the characteristics of the ocean ; mark its calm dignity when 
 undisturbed by the winds, and all its various states between that and its 
 terrible sublimity when agitated by the tempest. Sketch with attention its 
 foaming and winding coasts, and that awful line which separates it from the 
 heavens. Replenished with these stores, your imagination will then come 
 forth, as a river collected from little springs spreads into might and majesty. 
 If you aspire to excellence in your profession, you must, like the industrious 
 bee, survey the whole face of nature and sip the sweet from every flower. 
 When thus enriched, lay up your acquisitions for future use, and examine 
 the great works of art to animate your feelings and to excite your emula 
 tion. When you are thus mentally enriched, and your hand practiced to 
 obey the powers of your will, you will then find your pencils or your 
 chisels as magic wands, calling into view creations of your own, to adorn 
 your name and country." 
 
 So regular were West s hours of labor, and so carefully did he calculate 
 his time, that to describe one day of his life is to describe years. He rose 
 earlystudied before breakfast began to work on one of his largo pictures 
 about ten painted with little intermission till four washed, dressed, saw 
 visitors, and having dined, recommenced his studies anew. His works were 
 chiefly historical ; he dealt with the dead ; and the solitude of his gallery 
 was seldom invaded by the rich or the great clamoring for their portraits. 
 Visitors sometimes found their way to his inner study while he had the 
 pencil in his hand ; he had no wish to show off his skill to the idle, and 
 generally sat as silent and motionless on such occasions as one of his own 
 apostles. His words were few, his manner easy ; his Quaker-like sobriety 
 seemed little elevated by intercourse with nobles and waiting gentlewomen. 
 On the Windsor pictures he expended much study, and to render them 
 worthy of their place, he " trimmed," as he told the king, " his midnight 
 lamp." So closely was he imprisoned by their composition, that his attend 
 ance at the burial of so eminent a brother artist as Gainsborough was men- 
 tioned as something extraordinary. 
 
 West lived to a great age. Elizabeth Shewell for more than fifty yewf 
 3 
 
36 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 his kind and tender companion died on the 6th of December, 1817, and 
 West, seventy -nine years old, felt that he was soon to follow. His wife 
 and he had loved each other some sixty years had seen their children s 
 children and the world had no compensation to offer. He began to sink, 
 and though still to be found at his easel, his hand had lost its early alacrity. 
 It was evident that all this was to cease soon ; that he was suffering a slow, 
 and a general, and easy decay. The venerable old man sat in hii study 
 among his favorite pictures, a breathing image of piety and contentment, 
 awaiting calmly the hour of his dissolution. Without any fixed complaint, 
 his mental faculties unimpaired, his cheerfulness uneclipsed, and with looks 
 serene and benevolent, he expired llth March, 1820, in the eighty-second 
 year of his age. He was buried beside Reynolds, Opie, and Barry, in St. 
 Paul s Cathedral. The pall was borne by noblemen, ambassadors, and 
 academicians; his two sons and grandson were chief mourners; and sixty 
 coaches brought up the splendid procession. 
 
 West was the pioneer and father of American artists. Cunningham in 
 his lives of eminent artists, thus gives the character of West, and his judg 
 ment upon his merits as a painter. How true or just this criticism, it is be 
 yond our knowledge or province to decide ; but the late Sir Martin Archer 
 Snee, President of the Royal Academy of England, certainly a competent 
 judge, said of him, that in his department historical painting he was 
 "the most distinguished artist of the age in which he lived." Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence also gave commendations equally strong. Says Cunningham : 
 
 "Benjamin West was in person above the middle size, of a fair complex 
 ion, and firmly and compactly built. His serene brow betokened command 
 of temper, while his eyes, sparkling and vivacious, promised lively remarks 
 and pointed sayings, in which he by no means abounded. Intercourse with 
 courts and with the world, which changes so many, made no change in 
 his sedate sobriety of sentiment and happy propriety of manner, the re 
 sults of a devout domestic education. His kindness to young artists was 
 great his liberality seriously impaired his income he never seemed weary 
 of giving advice intrusion never disturbed his temper nor could tho 
 tediousness of the dull ever render him either impatient or peevish, 
 Whatever he knew in art he readily imparted he was always happy to 
 think that art was advancing, and no mean jealousy of other men s good 
 fortune ever invaded his repose." 
 
 "As his life was long and laborious, his productions are very numerous. 
 He painted and sketched in oil, upward of four hundred pictures, mostly of 
 an historical and religious nature, and he left more than two hundred original 
 drawings in his portfolio. His works were supposed by himself, and for a 
 time by others, to be in the true spirit of the great masters, and he com 
 posed them with the serious ambition and hope of illustrating Scripture, 
 and rendering Gospel truth more impressive. No subject seemed to him 
 too lofty for his pencil ; he considered himself worthy to follow the sub- 
 limest flights of the prophets, and dared to limn the effulgence of God s 
 glory, and the terrors of the day of Judgment. The mere list of his works 
 makes us shudder at human presumption Moses receiving the Law on 
 Sinai the Descent of the Holy Ghost on the Saviour in the Jordan the 
 Opening of the Seventh Seal in the Revelations Saint Michael and his 
 
OP AMERICANS. 37 
 
 Angels casting out the Great Dragon the mighty Angel with one foot on 
 Sea and the other on Earth the Resurrection and there are many others 
 of the same class ! With such magnificence and sublimity who but a 
 Michael Angelo could cope? 
 
 In all his works the human form was exhibited in conformity to academic 
 precepts his figures were arranged with skill the coloring was varied and 
 harmonious the eye rested pleased on the performance, and the artist 
 seemed, to the ordinary spectator, to have done his task like one of the 
 highest of the sons of genius. But below all this splendor, there was littlo 
 cf the true vitality there was a monotony, too, of human character tho 
 groupings were unlike the happy and careless combinations of nature, and 
 the figures seemed distributed over the canvas by line and measure, like 
 trees in a plantation. He wanted fire and imagination, to be the restorer oi 
 that grand style, which bewildered Barry and was talked of by Reynolds. 
 Most of his works cold, formal, bloodless, and passionless may remind 
 the spectator of the sublime vision of the valley of dry bones, when the 
 flesh and skin had come upon the skeletons, and before the breath of God 
 had infused them with life and feeling. 
 
 Though such is the general impression which the works of West make, 
 it cannot be denied that many are distinguished by great excellence. In his 
 Death on the Pale Horse, and more particularly in his sketch of that pic 
 ture, he has more than approached the masters and princes of the calling. 
 It is, indeed, irresistibly fearful to see the triumphant march of the terrific 
 phantom, and the dissolution of all that earth is proud of beneath his 
 tread. War and peace, sorrow and joy, youth and age, all who love and 
 all who hate, seem planet-struck. The Death of Wolfe, too, is natural and 
 noble, and the Indian chief, like the Oneida warrior of Campbell, 
 
 "A stoic of the woods, a man without a tear," 
 
 was a happy thought. The Battle of La Hogue, I have heard praised as 
 the best historic picture of the British school, by one not likely to be mis 
 taken, and who would not say what he did not feel. Many of his single 
 figures, also, are of a high order. There is a natural grace in tho looks of 
 some of his women, which few painters have ever excelled. 
 
 West was injured by early success ; he obtained his fame too easily it 
 was not purchased by long study and many trials and he rashly imagined 
 himself capable of anything. But the coldness of his imagination nipped 
 the blossoms of history. It is the province of art to elevate the subject, 
 in the spirit of its nature, and brooding over the whole, with the feelin^ of 
 a poet, awaken the scene into vivid life, and heroic beauty ^ but such 
 mastery rarely waited upon the ambition of this amiable and upright man." 
 
 GILBERT CHARLES STUABT. 
 
 That most eminent of American portrait painters, the eccentric GILBERT 
 CHARLES STUART, was once asked at an English inn, in "what part of Eng 
 land he was born?" "I was not born in England, Scotland, Wales, or 
 Ireland." "Where then?" "I was born at Narraganset." "Where s 
 that?" "Six miles from Pottawoone, and ten miles from Poppasquash, 
 and about four miles west of Connonicut, and not far from the spot whero 
 
38 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the famous battle with the warlike Pequots was fought." " In what part 
 of the East Indies is that, sir? " " East Indies, my dear sir ! it is in the 
 State of Rhode Island, between Massachusetts and Connecticut river." Thia 
 was all Greek to his companions, and he left them to study a new lesson in 
 geography. 
 
 An anecdote of Stuart is given, in which he pretends to describe the kind 
 cf building in which he was born. As it is related in his characteristic 
 style as a story teller, we give it. 
 
 A few years before his death, two artists of Philadelphia visited Mr. 
 Stuart^ at his residence in Boston. These gentlemen, Messrs. Longacre and 
 Neagle, had made the journey for the sole purpose of seeing and deriving 
 instruction from the veteran. While sitting with him on one occasion, Mr. 
 Neagle asked him for a pinch of snuff from his ample box, out of which he 
 was profusely supplying his own nostrils. " I will give it to you," said Stuart, 
 " but I advise you not to take it. Snuff-taking is a pernicious, vile, dirty 
 habit, and, like all bad habits, to be carefully avoided." " Your practice 
 contradicts your precept, Mr. Stuart." * Sir, / can t help it. Shall I tell 
 you a story? You were neither of you ever in England so I must describe 
 an English stage-coach of my time. It was a large vehicle of the coach 
 kind, with a railing around the top to secure outside passengers, and a bas 
 ket behind for baggage, and such travelers as could not be elsewhere ac 
 commodated. In such a carriage, full within, loaded on top, and an addi 
 tional unfortunate stowed with the stuff in the basket, I happened to be 
 traveling in a dark night, when coachee contrived to overturn us all or, 
 as they say in New York, dump us in a ditch. We scrambled up, felt our 
 legs and arms to be convinced that they were not broken, and finding, on 
 examination, that inside and outside passengers were tolerably whole (on 
 the whole), some one thought of the poor devil who was shut up with the 
 baggage in the basket. He was found apparently senseless, and his neck 
 twisted awry. One of the passengers, who had heard that any disloca 
 tion might be remedied, if promptly attended to, seized the corpse, with 
 a determination to untwist the man s neck, and set his head straight on his 
 shoulders. Accordingly, with an iron grasp, he clutched him by the head, 
 and began pulling and twisting by main force. He appeared to have suc 
 ceeded miraculously in restoring life ; for the lead man no sooner experi 
 enced the first wrench, than he roared vociferously, Let me alone ! ,let me 
 alone! I m not hurt I was born so! Gentlemen," added Stuart, "I 
 was born so ; " and, taking an enormous pinch of snuff, " I was born in a 
 snuff-mill." 
 
 This was partly true. His father, Gilbert Stuart, was a Scotchman, and 
 erected a snuff-mill on the Narraganset, which was the first built in New 
 England. He married a very handsome daughter of a Rhode Island farmer, 
 by name Anthony ; and the year 1754, their son, Gilbert Charles, was born. 
 
 He was a very capable, self-willed, and over-indulged lad. At thirteen 
 years of age, he began to copy pictures, and soon after succeeded in making 
 likenesses in black lead. When he was about eighteen years of age, a 
 wandering Scotch artist, by the name of Alexander, came to Rhode Island, 
 and being pleased with the talents of the lad, instructed him in tyis art, and 
 finally took him with him to Scotland. Alexander died soon after, leaving 
 
OF AMERICANS. 39 
 
 young Stuart in a land of strangers. He went aboard of a collier bound to 
 Nova Scotia, and worked his passage home, having been absent about a 
 year. 
 
 He washed off the coal dust, put on a new suit of clothes, and went to 
 painting. Fully conscious of the great importance of drawing with ana 
 tomical exactness, he took vast pains to attain it, and hired a strong-muscled 
 blacksmith to sit for him as a model. His mother died when he was in his 
 eleventh year, and yet he, at this time, from recollection produced so 
 striking a likeness that his uncle\from Philadelphia recognized it the 
 moment he entered the room. He -soon had as much business in the por 
 trait line as he could attend to. 
 
 Stuart s love of painting w r as enthusiastic, and the same with music, for 
 he learned to play on a variety of instruments, and he also composed pieces 
 himself. Lester says of him, in his biography, " He seems to have been 
 gifted with the loftiest and best impulses of genius who.le days he passed 
 in reading to his sister, in walking with her in the fields ; whole nights iu 
 playing the flute under her window he never came home from his rambles 
 in the country without bringing her wild flowers. He had a kind of wild 
 wayward life, made up of gleams of light and thick clouds, of shadows and 
 sunshine ; and yet he loved music, and it soothed him when he was sad 
 and when he was half forsaken he used to think and talk of that sister ; 
 and when all was bright around him, for he was sometimes as happy as 
 we ever can be in a naughty world, he took up his pencil and dashed 
 away like Jehu ; and when such men as Reynolds looked at his pictures 
 painted in this mood, they said the lines were gleams of sunshine, all 
 light, in the midst of deep shadows. " 
 
 Stuart was bent on seeking his fortune in London. So one day, in the 
 winter of 1776, he found himself wandering in the streets of that great city, 
 without a friend in the place or a pound in his pocket. Waterhouse, a 
 school companion of his, whom he expected to meet there, was absent at 
 Edinburgh studying medicine. 
 
 He went by a church door in Foster Lane, where he heard an organ play 
 ing. He stepped upon the threshold, and the "pew- woman" told him, in 
 answer to a question what was going on, that the vestry were together test 
 ing the candidates for the post of organist. He went in boldly asked if he 
 might try. He was told he could he did he succeeded got the place, and 
 a salary of one hundred and fifty dollars a year ! So much for the musical 
 genius he had cultivated in America, when wise people were telling him he 
 had better leave off serenading girls at night, playing the flute, and go to 
 work. It gave him bread now, .in the swarming wilderness of London, 
 where he needed nothing else. 
 
 Stuart s proficiency in the theory and practice of music, was an additional 
 evidence of the vigorous intellect and varied talents which constitute genius. 
 He had that peculiar aptitude of mind, which would have made him excel 
 in anything to which he chose to direct his strong faculties. 
 
 Stuart was thougthless and improvident. His friends had to hunt for him 
 occasionally in the sponging-house. He had been in London nearly two 
 years before he made the acquaintance of West. Stuart says, " On appli 
 cation to West to receive me as a pupil, I was welcomed with true benev- 
 
4-0 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 olence, encouraged, and taken into the family, and nothing could exceed 
 the attentions of the artist to me they were paternal." 
 
 There are a hundred fine stories told of this eccentric, witty, improvident, 
 but noble Stuart. He was full of genius, but he would not brook the 
 requisite toil, or he would have made himself one of the first painters of 
 any age. One day the blunt Dr. Johnson came into West s studio and ad 
 dressed something to Stuart "Why! you speak very good English, sir," 
 Baid the lexicographer, " where did you learn it? " " Sir," replied Stuart, 
 " I can better tell you where I did not learn it it was not from your dic 
 tionary." Dr. Johnson had too much sense to be offended. 
 
 He was, at one time, traveling in an English stage-coach, when his com 
 panions manifested a great curiosity to ascertain his business, and questioned 
 him rather closely. He answered with a grave face and serious tone, that 
 he sometimes dressed gentlemen s and ladies hair (at that time the high 
 craped pomatumed hair was all the fashion) " You are a hair-dresser, 
 then? " " What ! " said he, " do you take me for a barber? " " I beg your 
 pardon, sir, but I inferred it from what you said. If I mistook you, may I 
 take the liberty to ask what you are, then?" " Why, I sometimes brush a 
 gentleman s coat, or hat, and sometimes adjust a cravat." "0, you are a 
 valet, then, to some nobleman?" "A valet! indeed, sir, I am not. I am 
 not a servant to be sure I make coats and waistcoats for gentlemen." " ! 
 you are a tailor!" "Tailor! do I look like a tailor? I ll assure you, I 
 never handled a goose, other than a roasted one." By this time they were 
 all in a roar. "What the devil are you, then?" said one. "I ll tell you," 
 said Stuart. "Be assured all I have said is literally true. I dress hair, 
 brush hats and coats, adjust a cravat, and make coats, waistcoats, and 
 breeches, and likewise boots and shoes, at your service." " ho ! a boot and 
 shoemaker, after all ! " " Guess again, gentlemen ; I never handled boot or 
 shoe but for my own feet and legs ; yet all I have told you is true." " We 
 may as well give up guessing." After checking his laughter, and pumping 
 up a fresh flow of spirits by a large pinch of snuff, he said to them very 
 gravely, "Now, gentlemen, I will not play the fool with you any longer, 
 but will tell you, upon my honor as a gentleman, my bona fide profession. 
 I get my bread by making faces." He then screwed his countenance, and 
 twisted the lineaments of his visage, in a manner such as Samuel Foote 
 or Charles Matthews might have envied. When his companions, after loud 
 peals of laughter, had composed themselves, each took credit to himself for 
 having " all the while suspected the gentleman belonged to the theater," and 
 they all knew that he must be a comedian by profession ; when, to their 
 utter surprise, he assured them that he never was on the stage, and very 
 rarely saw the inside of a play-house, or any similar place of Amusement. 
 They now all looked at each other with astonishment. 
 
 Before parting, Stuart said to his companions, " Gentlemen, you will find 
 that all I have said of my various employments, is comprised in these few 
 words : I am a portrait painter. If you will call at John Palmer s, York 
 Buildings, London, where I shall be ready and willing to brush you a coat 
 or hat, dress your hair a la mode, supply you, if in need, with a wig of any 
 fashion or dimensions, accommodate you with boots or shoes, give you 
 ruffles or cravats, and make faces for you." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 41 
 
 All who have written about Stuart, speak of his wonderful powers of 
 conversation. " In this respect," says Waterhouse, " he was inferior to no 
 man among us. He made it a point to keep those talking who wero 
 sitting to him for their portraits, each in their own way, free and easy. This 
 called up all his resources of judgment. To military men he spoke of 
 battles by sea and land ; with the statesman on Hume s and Gibbon s His 
 tory ; with the lawyer on jurisprudence or remarkable criminal trials ; with 
 the merchant, in his way ; with the man of leisure, in his way, and with 
 the ladies in all ways. When putting the rich farmer on the canvas, he 
 would go along from seed-time to harvest-time he would descant on the 
 nice points of the horse, ox, cow, sheep, or pig, and surprise him with his 
 just remarks in the process of making cheese and butter, or astonish him 
 with his profound knowledge of manures, or the food of plants. As to 
 national and individual character, few men could say more to the purpose, 
 as far as history and acute personal observation would carry him. He had 
 wit at will always ample, sometimes redundant." 
 
 Stuart read men s characters as easily as he read newspapers. Lord 
 Mulgrave employed him to paint his brother, General Phipps, who was 
 going out to India. When the picture was done, and the general had 
 sailed, the earl came for the piece. " This picture looks strange, sir," said 
 the disturbed nobleman, " How is it? I see I think I see insanity in that 
 face." "It may be so," replied Stuart, "but I painted your brother as I 
 saw him." The first account Lord Mulgrave had from his brother, was that 
 his insanity, unknown and ur.apprehended by any of his friends, had driven 
 him into suicide ! 
 
 Stuart generally produced a likeness on the pannel or canvas, before 
 painting in the eyes, his theory being, that on the nose, more than any 
 other feature, likeness depended. On one occasion when a pert coxcomb 
 had been sitting to him, the painter gave notice that the sitting was ended, 
 the dandy exclaimed on looking at the canvas, " Why it has no eyes ! " 
 Stuart replied, " It is not nine days old yet." We presume our readers need 
 not be reminded that nine days must elapse from the birth of a puppy, 
 before he opens his eyes. 
 
 Stuart had now become a fashionable and leading artist in London. But 
 he lived in splendor and was the gayest of the gay ; his indulgencies and 
 his improvidences wearied his friends. He was poor on money that would 
 have enriched any other man. One day he was drinking with earls, dukes, 
 and princes ; the next, cracking jokes with companions in a debtor s prison. 
 But rich people would be painted, and they had to go to jail to get it done ; 
 and so he painted his way out. 
 
 In 1794:, he turned his back on his good fortune and came home to 
 America. His principal inducement was his great desire to paint the por 
 trait of Washington, for whom he had the greatest admiration. 
 
 Stuart had been familiar with the highest society of England, but he was 
 embarrassed when he entered the room where Washington was, and he 
 said it was the first time he had ever felt awe in the presence of a fellow 
 man. 
 
 Stuart was now gratified in the accomplishment of the hope of years. 
 Washington was standing on the highest eminence of glory any man had 
 
42 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 yet stood on ; the gaze of the world was fixed steadily upon him. To 
 leave for posterity a faithful portrait of him, and thus link his name forever 
 with that great man s, had now become the most earnest wish of Stuart s 
 life. Washington sat for his portrait Stuart was not pleased with his first 
 attempt. It may easily be imagined with what feelings the painter was 
 stirred, when he gazed with the full, clear, earnest eye of the artist, upon 
 that face which Guizot has declared more than half divine. It is a matter 
 of little surprise that he failed on the first trial. He destroyed the picture. 
 Washington sat again, and then he painted as good a portrait as ever was or 
 can be painted. 
 
 This picture is now in the Boston Athenaeum. A couple of anecdotes are 
 told in relation to Stuart and Washington, which are among the few authentic 
 instances of Washington s losing his self-control. One morning, as the painter 
 approached the house, the street door and inner door were open, so that his 
 eye was led directly into the parlor ; and just as he was about to ascend 
 the steps, he saw Washington seize a man by the collar and thrust him 
 violently across the room. This being an awkward moment to enter the 
 house, he passed on a short distance ; but immediately returned, and found 
 the president sitting very composedly in his chair. After the usual saluta 
 tion, his first words were, " Mr. Stuart, when you went away, you turned the 
 face of your picture to the wall, and gave directions that it should remain 
 so, to prevent its receiving any injury, but when I came into the room this 
 morning the face was turned outward as you now see it, the doors were 
 open, and here was a fellow raising a dust with a broom, and I know not 
 but the picture is ruined." It so happened, however, that no essential harm 
 was done. 
 
 Stuart, while engaged on this work, after several ineffectual attempts to 
 bring that noble but restrained soul to the surface, to make the calm eye of 
 the great man flash, and his patient features light up with excitement, prac 
 ticed a stratagem to effect his object. He got everything in readiness and 
 then left the room just before the time of appointment, knowing Washing 
 ton s scrupulous punctuality, and his exaction of it in all with whom he 
 had to do ; he waited in an adjoining room until he heard a loud exclama 
 tion of impatience, and the rapid steps that told of an angry mood. Then 
 he entered, respectfully greeted Washington who sternly resumed his seat 
 seized his palette, and, after a few touches, apologized by confessing that 
 he had practiced the ruse to call up a look of moral indignation, which 
 would give spirit to his delineation. 
 
 Stuart lived after this thirty-four years, preserving his great powers to the 
 very last. The portrait of John Quincy Adams was his last work. He 
 died in 1828, and was buried in the cemetery of the Episcopal Church, io 
 Boston. 
 
 When an English ambassador was leaving England for America, he called 
 on West, and asked him to recommend a portrait painter. "Where are 
 you going?" "To the United States." "There, sir," said West, "you 
 will find the best portrait painter in the world, and his name is Gilbert 
 Stuart." 
 
 When Sully wa5 in Boston, he requested Allston to accompany him to 
 see a portrait of Mr. Gibbs, by Stuart. " Well," says Allston, " what is 
 
OF AMERICANS. 43 
 
 your opinion?" The reply was, "I may commit myself and expose my 
 ignorance : but in my opinion, I never saw a Rembrandt, Reubens, Vandyke, 
 or Titian equal to it. What say you? " " I &ay," replied Allstori, " that all 
 combined could not have equaled it." 
 
 JOHN TRUMBULL. 
 
 Our countrymen are much indebted to JOHN TBUMBULL, whose genius 
 and industry have preserved to them, for all time, the great scenes of our 
 war for independence, with accurate portraits of those eminent men who 
 risked their all in the struggle. 
 
 He was born in Lebanon, Connecticut, in 1756, and was the son of Jon 
 athan Trumbull, governor of that State through the entire war of the Revo 
 lution, and governor of the colony before the war ; being the only one of 
 all the chief magistrates, who had served both the Crown and the Re 
 public. 
 
 At six years of age, the future artist would read Greek " in a certain 
 way." He says, in his autobiography : " My taste for drawing began to 
 dawn early. It is common to talk of natural genius ; but I am disposed to 
 doubt the existence of such a principle in the human mind ; at least in my 
 own case, I can clearly trace it to mere imitation. My two sisters, Faith and 
 Mary, had completed their education at an excellent school in Boston, where 
 they both had been taught embroidery ; and the eldest, Faith, had acquired 
 some knowledge of drawing, and had even painted in oil two heads and a 
 landscape. These wonders were hung in my mother s parlor, and were 
 among the first objects that caught my infant eye. I endeavored to imitate 
 them, and for several years the nicely sanded floors (for carpets were then 
 unknown in Lebanon) were constantly scrawled with my rude attempts at 
 drawing. 
 
 About the same time music first caught my attention. I heard a jews- 
 harp delicious sound ! which no time can drive from my enchanted mem 
 ory ! I have since been present at a commemoration of Handel, in West 
 minster Abbey, and have often listened with rapture to the celestial warblings 
 of Catalani I have heard the finest music- of the age in London and in Paris, 
 but nothing can obliterate the magic charm of that jews-harp, and even at 
 this late moment, its sweet vibrations seem to tingle on my ear." 
 
 Trumbull painted and studied till his sixteenth year, when he was entered 
 at Harvard (1772), in the Junior class, " the- best educated boy of his age 
 in New England " said the Greek professor. 
 
 " My fondness for painting had grown with my growth, and in reading 
 of the arts of antiquity, I had become familiar with the names of Phidias 
 and Praxiteles, of Zeuxis and Appelles. These names had come down 
 through a series of more than two thousand years, with a celebrity and ap 
 plause which accompanied few of those who had been devoted to the more 
 noisy and turbulent scenes of politics or war. The tranquillity of the art 
 seemed better suited to me than the bustling scenes of life." 
 
 He searched the library for all the books on art he could find, copied 
 some fine paintings, and, on graduating the next year, returned to Lebanon, 
 where he continued his artistic labors, by designing the death of Paului 
 Einilius, at the battle of Cannae. 
 
44 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 In the summer and autumn of 1774, the angry discussions between Great 
 Britain and her Colonies began to assume a very serious tone. " I caught 
 the growing enthusiasm," he says ; " the characters of Brutus, of Paulus 
 Emilius, of the Scipios, were fresh in my remembrance, and their devoted 
 patriotism always before my eyes ; besides, my father was now governor of 
 the colony, and a patriot, of course surrounded by patriots, to whose ardent 
 conversation I listened daily ; it would have been strange if all this had 
 failed to produce its natural effect. I sought for military information ; 
 acquired what knowledge I could, soon formed a small company from 
 among the young men of the school and the village, taught them, or more 
 properly we taught each other, to use the musket and to march, and military 
 exercises and studies became the favorite occupation of the day. 
 
 "When my mother was preparing and packing up my linen and clothes 
 for this campaign, she said to me, My son, when I recollect the sufferings 
 of your infancy, with your present feebleness of constitution, and anticipate 
 the hardships and dangers to which you are about to be exposed, I hardly 
 dare to hope that we shall ever meet again ; however, in all events, my 
 dear son, I charge you so to conduct yourself, that if ever I do see you 
 again, it may be with the pride and delight of a mother. " 
 
 On the 19th of April, 1775, the blood of our fathers began to flow on 
 the plains of Lexington. Before the first of May a regiment of troops 
 "started into view as by magic," and were on their march for Bunker 
 Hill. Young Trumbull was adjutant of the regiment. He was the best 
 draughtsman in the army, and his drawings of battle-fields, forts, and forti 
 fications, brought him to the notice of the commander-in-chief, who ap 
 pointed the young painter his second aid-de-camp. He was afterward de 
 tached from Washington s staff, and made a major of brigade at Roxbury. 
 When General Gates took command of the " Northern Department," he 
 offered Trumbull the appointment of adjutant, and he attended him jn his 
 northern expedition, where he distinguished himself in the "rvice of the 
 Colonies. 
 
 On the 22d of February, 1777, terminated Trumbull s "regular military 
 career." The cause of his resignation he explained in a letter to the Presi 
 dent of Congress. His commission as deputy adjutant-general, was dated 
 the 12th of December, 1776 he had served in that office since the 28th of 
 June, by the appointment of Major-General Gates, who was authorized to 
 make the appointment by particular instructions from Congress. Trumbull 
 was right in principle, but the manner of his resignation offended the congress. 
 He would not yield a point of honor, and his course has been justified by 
 some of the most distinguished officers of the Revolution. 
 
 " Thus ended my regular militar} r service, to my deep regret, for my 
 mind was at this time full of lofty military aspirations." 
 
 Some time after this, he went to Boston and hired a room, in which to 
 study painting. He occupied himself in his art by studies from some excel 
 lent pointings ; copies, by Symbert, from Vandyck, Poussin, and Raphael. 
 
 " The war," said he, " was a period little favorable to regular study and 
 deliberate pursuits : mine were often desultory. A deep and settled regret 
 of the military career from which I had been driven, and to which there 
 appeared to be no possibility of an honorable return, preyed upon my spirits 
 
OF AMERICANS. 45 
 
 and the sound of a dram frequently called an involuntary tear to my 
 eye." 
 
 In the summer of 1780, Trumbull went to Europe, with the intention of 
 studying painting under Mr. West. He had received the assurance, through 
 the intervention of a friend, from the British Secretary of State, that, not 
 withstanding his past military life, he could pursue the study of art unmo 
 lested, provided he avoided all meddling with politics. He was received 
 kindly by Mr. West, then in the noon of his glory, who, when he saw his 
 copy of the Madonna, said, "Mr. Trumbull, I have no hesitation to say 
 that nature intended you for a painter. You possess the essential qualities ; 
 nothing more is necessary but careful and assiduous cultivation." 
 
 A movement was set on foot against Trumbull by some American loyalist, 
 and he was arrested for "high treason," and taken off at eleven o clock at 
 night to a lock-up liouse in Drury Lane. Examined the next morning by 
 three police magistrates, who seemed to desire to know something about the 
 traitor, he thus addressed them: "You appear to have been much more 
 habituated to the society of highwaymen and pickpockets, than to that of 
 gentlemen. I will put an end to all this insolent folly, by telling you 
 frankly who and what I am. I am an American my name is Trumbull ; 
 I am a son of him whom you call the rebel Governor of Connecticut ; I have 
 served in the rebel American army ; I have had the honor of being an 
 aid-de-camp to him whom you call the rebel General Washington. These 
 two have always in their power a greater number of your friends, prisoners, 
 than you have of theirs. Lord George Germaine knows under what cir 
 cumstances I came to London, and what has been my conduct here. I am 
 entirely in your power ; and after the hint which I have given you, treat me 
 as you please, always remembering, that as I may be treated, so will your 
 friends in America be treated by mine." 
 
 The painter s commitment was made out for a loathsome prison the 
 only one the Gordon riots had left standing in London and the first night 
 the son of the Governor of Connecticut slept with a highwayman. 
 
 The moment West heard what had befallen his pupil, he "hurried to 
 Buckingham House, asked an audience of the king, and was admitted." 
 " I am sorry for the young man," said the king, "but he is* in the hands of 
 the law, and must abide the result ; I cannot interpose. Do you know 
 whether his parents are living?" "I think I have heard him say that he 
 has very lately received news of the death of his mother ; I believe his 
 father is living." 
 
 "I pity him, from my soul!" He mused a few moments, and then 
 added : " But, West, go to Mr. Trumbull immediately, and pledge to him 
 my royal .promise, that, in the worst possible event of the- law, his life 
 shall be safe." With this kind answer, West hurried away to the prison. 
 "I had now," says Trumbull, "nothing more to apprehend than a tedious 
 confinement, and that might be softened by books and my pencil. I there 
 fore begged Mr. West to permit me to have his beautiful little Corregio and 
 my tools ; I proceeded with the copy, which was finished in prison during 
 the winter of 1780-81, and is now deposited in the gallery at New Haven." 
 
 After an imprisonment of seven months, Trumbull was liberated on the 
 condition of leaving the kingdom within thirty days, not to return during 
 
46 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the war. On tho restoration of peace, he again returned to England, and 
 studied under West. He soon began to meditate seriously of events of the 
 Revolution, which afterward became the great objects of his professional life. 
 The death of General Warren at the battle of Bunker Hill, and of General 
 Montgomery at Quebec, were first painted. " Mr. West witnessed the pro 
 gress of these pictures with great interest, and strongly encouraged me to 
 persevere in the work of the history of the American Revolution, which 
 I had thus commenced, and recommended to have the series engraved." 
 
 This suggestion Trumbull followed up all through life, at a great sacrifice 
 of time, money, and tranquillity. With a view to accomplish his object he 
 visited Paris in 1785, at the invitation of Mr. Jefferson, who was a liberal 
 and enlightened friend of art. The great statesman received Trumbull 
 "most kindly at his house," where he made it his home. 
 
 "My two paintings, the first fruits of my national enterprise, met his 
 warm approbation, and during my visit, I began the composition of the 
 Declaration of Independence, with the assistance of his information and ad 
 vice." 
 
 He also made various studies for the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and 
 the Battle of Trenton, and Princeton. He also painted, at this period, his 
 celebrated picture of the Sortie from Gibraltar, which Horace Walpole said 
 was "the finest picture he had seen painted north of the Alps." 
 
 Trumbull returned the second time to the United States in November, 
 1789. Congress met in New York early in December. "All the world was 
 assembled there, and I obtained many portraits for the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence, Surrender of Cornwallis, and also that of General Washington in 
 the battles of Trenton and Princeton." He now spent a considerable time in 
 journe} 7 ing to distant parts of the country, painting portraits of the illus 
 trious men he introduced into his historical pieces a work which no other 
 man of his time seemed inclined to do. 
 
 In 1792, he painted the best portrait extant of Washington as a general, 
 in his heroic military character. It is a full length of Washington at Tren 
 ton ; and is now in the Trumbull Gallery at New Haven. He was at this 
 time in the prime of life, about forty-five years of age. The portrait most 
 familiar to his countrymen is that of Stuart, which represents Washington 
 as the president, when he was an old man, and the expression of his mouth 
 injured by a set of false teeth. " I told the president my object," says Trum 
 bull ; "he entered into it warmly, and, as the work advanced, we talked of 
 the scene, its dangers, its almost desperation. He looked the scene again, 
 and I happily transferred to the canvas the lofty expression of his animated 
 countenance, the high resolve to conquer or to perish." 
 
 In the year 1815, Congress authorized the president to employ Trumbull 
 to compose and execute four paintings, commemorative of the most impor 
 tant events of the American Revolution, to be placed in the Capitol of the 
 United States. 
 
 The choice of the subjects and the size of each picture, was left to the 
 president, Mr. Madison. In the interview between the artist and the presi 
 dent, it was concluded to make the pictures of dimensions to admit the 
 figures to be the size of life. The four subjects decided upon, were the 
 Surrender of Burgoyne the Surrender of Cornwallis the Declaration of 
 
OF AMERICANS. 47 
 
 Independence Resignation of General Washington of his Commission as 
 Commander-in-Chief of the American Army, to Congress. He was em 
 ployed upon these about eight years, the last being finished in 1824, about 
 which time he had the misfortune to lose his wife. He received thirty-two 
 thousand dollars for these works, from government ; but some of his mercan 
 tile speculations had turned out badly, obliging him to sacrifice everything 
 to meet his obligations. He says : 
 
 "My contract with the government was honorably fulfilled. My debts 
 were paid, but I had the world before me to begin anew. I had passed the 
 term of three-score years and ten, the allotted period of human life. My 
 best friend was removed from me and I had no child. A sense of loneliness 
 began to creep over my mind, yet my hand was steady and my sight good, 
 and I felt the vis vita strong within me. Why then sink down into pre 
 mature imbecility? 
 
 1 resolved, therefore, to begin a new series of my paintings of revolution 
 ary subjects, of a smaller size than those in the Capitol, and to solace my 
 heavy hours by working on them. I chose the size of six feet by nine, and 
 began. Funds, however, began to diminish, and I sold scraps of furniture, 
 fragments of plate, etc. My pictures remained on my hands unsold, and to 
 all appearances unsaleable. At length the thought occurred to me, that 
 although the hope of a sale to a nation or to a State became more and moro 
 desperate from day to da} 11 , yet in an age of speculation, it might be possible 
 that some society might be willing to possess these paintings, on condition 
 of paying me a life annuity. I first thought of Harvard College, my alma 
 mater, but she was rich, and amply endowed. I then thought of Yale 
 although not my alma, yet she was within my native State and poor. I 
 hinted this idea to a friend (Mr. Alfred Smith, of Hartford) it took was 
 followed up, and resulted in a contract." 
 
 A gallery, fire-proof, was erected by the college his pictures arranged 
 under the direction of the artist, and an annuity of one thousand dollars 
 settled upon him for the remainder of his life. Trumbull also made one 
 noble condition in this final disposition of his works, which should alone 
 give immortality to his name. After his death, the entire proceeds of the 
 exhibition of the Gallery, were to be " perpetually appropriated toward de 
 fraying the expense of educating* poor scholars in Yale College." He says 
 in the close of his autobiography : 
 
 " Thus I derive present subsistence principally from this source, and have 
 besides the happy reflection, that when I shall have gone to my rest, these 
 works will remain a source of good to many a poor, perhaps meritorious and 
 excellent man." 
 
 The Trumbull Gallery at New Haven, contains about forty large paint 
 ings by the artist, beside nearly two hundred and fifty portraits of per 
 sons distinguished during the Revolutionary period, painted by him f-orn, 
 lift. Among them is that noble, full length of Washington at Trenton. 
 There too are those inimitable battle-pieces the Death of Warren, at 
 Bunker Hill, and of Montgomery, at Quebec. In these two compositions, 
 "the accuracy of drawing, the admirable coloring, the variety of figures in 
 troduced, the force of expression displayed in their attitudes and counte 
 nances, with their striking effect as a whole, stamp these productions aa 
 
48 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 master-pieces of the art." As battle-pieces, they are probably unequalecl 
 by those of any artist, living or dead. 
 
 These pictures are familiar to most readers, from the engraved copies 
 in the early histories of the United States. 
 
 The painting of the Battle of Bunker Hill, " represents the moment (tho 
 Americans having expended their ammunition) the British troops became 
 completely successful and masters of the field. At this last moment of the 
 action, General Warren was killed by a musket ball through the head. 
 The principal group represents him expiring ; a soldier on his knees sup 
 ports him, and with one hand wards off the bayonet of a British grenadier 
 who, in the heat and fury natural at such a moment, aims to revenge the 
 death of a favorite officer, Colonel Abercombie, who had just fallen at his 
 feet. Colonel Small (whose conduct in America was always equally distin 
 guished by acts of humanity and kindness to his enemies, as by bravery 
 and fidelity to the cause he served), had been intimately connected with 
 General Warren saw him fall, and flew to save him. He is represented 
 seizing the musket of the grenadier, to prevent the fatal blow, and speaking 
 to his friend ; it was too late ; the general had barely life remaining to 
 recognize the voice of friendship ; he had lost the power of speech, and 
 expired with a smile of mingled gratitude and triumph. Near him, several 
 Americans, whose ammunition is expended, although destitute of bayonets, 
 are seen to persist in a resistance obstinate and desperate, but fruitless. 
 Near this side of the painting is seen General Putnam, reluctantly ordering 
 the retreat of these brave men ; while beyond him a party of American 
 troops oppose their last fire to the victorious column of the enemy. 
 
 Behind Colonel Small is seen Colonel Pitcairn, of the British marines, 
 mortally wounded, and falling in the arms of his son, to whom he was 
 speaking at the fatal moment. Under the feet of Colonel Small lies the 
 dead body of Colonel Abercombie. 
 
 General Howe, who commanded the British troops, and General Clinton, 
 who, toward the close of the action, offered his services as a volunteer, are 
 seen behind the principal group. 
 
 On the right of the painting a young American, wounded in the sword 
 hand, and in the breast, has begun to retire, attended by a faithful negro ; 
 but seeing his general fall, hesitates whether to save himself, or, wounded 
 as he is, to return and assist in saving a life more precious to his country 
 thau his own. 
 
 Behind this group are seen the British column ascending the hill grena 
 diers, headed by an officer bearing the British colors, mounting the feeble 
 intrcnchments ; and more distant, the Somerset ship-of-war (which lay 
 during the action between Boston and Charlestown), the north end of Bos 
 ton, with the battery on Copp s Hill ; and the harbor, shipping, etc. 
 
 No part of the town of Charlestown is seen ; but the dark smoke indi 
 cates the conflagration." 
 
 In the painting of the attack on Quebec, "that part of the scene ia 
 chosen where General Montgomery commanded in person ; and that moment, 
 when by his unfortunate death, the plan of attack was entirely disconcerted, 
 and the consequent retreat of his column decided at once the fate of the 
 place, and of such of the assailants as had already entered at another point, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 49 
 
 The principal group represents the death of General Montgomery, who, 
 together with his two aids-de-camp, Major M Pherson and Captain Chces- 
 man, fell by a discharge of grapeshot from the cannon of the place. Tho 
 general is represented as expiring, supported by two of his officers, and sur 
 rounded by others, among whom is Colonel Campbell, on whom the com 
 mand devolved, and by whose order a retreat was immediately begun. 
 
 Grief and surprise mark the countenances of the various characters. 
 The earth covered with snow trees stripped of their foliage the desola 
 tion of winter, and the gloom of night heightened the melancholy character 
 of the scene." 
 
 Trumbull s " Declaration of Independence " is the best known of any 
 American work of art. "To preserve the resemblance of the men who 
 were the authors of this memorable act, was an essential object of this 
 painting. Important difficulties presented themselves to the artist at the 
 outset ; for although only ten years had then elapsed since the date of tho 
 event, it was already difficult to ascertain who were the individuals to be 
 represented. Should he regard the fact of having been actually present in 
 the room on the fourth of July, indispensable? Should he admit those only 
 who were in favor of, and reject those who were opposed to the act? Where a 
 person was dead, and no authentic portrait could be obtained, should he ad 
 mit ideal heads? These were questions on which Mr. Adams and Mr. Jeffer 
 son were consulted, and they concurred in the advice, that with regard to the 
 characters to be introduced, the signatures of the original act (which is still 
 preserved in the office of state), ought to be the general guide. - That por 
 traits ought, however, to be admitted, of those who were opposed to, and 
 of course did not sign, ,id well as of those who voted in favor of the declara 
 tion, and did sign it, particularly John Dickinson, of Delaware, author of 
 the Farmer s Letters, who was the most eloquent and powerful opposer of 
 the measure ; not indeed of its principle, but of the fitness of the time, 
 which he considered premature. And they particularly recommended, that 
 wherever it was possible, the artist should obtain his portrait from the living 
 person ; that where any one was dead, he should be careful to copy the 
 finest portrait that could be obtained ; but that in case cf death, where 
 no portrait could be obtained (and there were many such instances, for, an 
 terior to the Revolution, the arts had been very little attended to, except in 
 one or two cities), he should by no means admit any ideal representation, 
 lest it being known that some such were to be found in the painting, a 
 doubt of the truth of others should be excited in the minds of posterity ; 
 and that, in short, absolute authenticity should be attempted, as far as it 
 could be attained. 
 
 The artist was governed by this advice, and spared neither pains nor ex 
 pense in obtaining his portraits from the living. Mr. Adams was painted in 
 London ; Mr. Jefferson in Paris ; Mr. Hancock and Samuel Adams in Bos 
 ton ; Mr. Edward Rutledge in Charleston, South Carolina ; Mr. Wythe at 
 Williamsburg, in Virginia ; Mr. Bartlett at Exeter, in New Hampshire, etc. 
 
 In order to give some variety to his composition, he found it necessary to 
 depart from the usual practice of reporting an act, and has made the whole 
 committee of five advance to the table of the president to make their re 
 port, instead of having the chairman rise in his place for the purpose ; the 
 
50 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 silence and solemnity of the scene, offered such real difficulties to a pic 
 turesque and agreeable composition, as to justify, in his opinion, this depar 
 ture from custom, and perhaps fact. Silence and solemnity he thought 
 essential to the dignity of the subject ; levity or inattention would have 
 been unworthy on such an occasion and in such an assembly. The dresses 
 are faithfully copied from the costume of the time, the present fashion 
 of pantaloons and trowsers being then unknown among gentlemen. 
 
 The room is copied from that in which Congress held their sessions at 
 the time, such as it was before the spirit of innovation laid unhallowed 
 hands upon it, and violated its venerable walls by modern improvement, as 
 it is called. The artist also took the liberty of embellishing the background, 
 by suspending upon the wall, military flags and trophies ; such as had been 
 taken from the enemy at St. Johns, Chambly, etc., and probably were actually 
 placed in the hall. In fact nothing has been neglected by the artist, that 
 was in his power, to render this a faithful memorial of the great event." 
 
 The remains of Trumbull, with those of his wife, are deposited in a 
 vault under the Trumbull Gallery. The following is a part of the in 
 scription on his monumental tablet : " Colonel John Trumbull, Painter and 
 Artist, Friend and Aid of Washington, died, in New York, November 10, 
 1843, aged eighty-eight. To his Country he gave his Sword and his Pencil. -* 
 
 Lester states, in his "Artists of America," that to no one artist " does the 
 country owe so much as to Trumbull. Congress paid grudgingly eight 
 thousand dollars a piece for his four great paintings in the Rotunda but 
 what representative of the American people would dare now to rise in his 
 place, and propose to sell the Declaration of Independence, I care not what 
 sum were offered for it? It is the only picture in the world which has pre 
 served the forms and expressions of the great fathers of American liberty, 
 and it would be sacrilege to ruin it, because it is above all price. As ages 
 roll by, the wonderful events those pictures commemorate, will be graven 
 more deeply in the minds of men, and to each successive generation they 
 will become more invaluable. The early historical painters of nations have 
 always ranked among their early historians they stand side by side at tho 
 fountains of history, to rescue those sacred forms and relics, which, but for 
 their holy vigilance, would have passed away forever." 
 
AN ACCURATE AND INTERESTING ACCOUNT 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HARDSHIPS AND SUFFERINGS 
 
 OF THAT 
 
 BAND OF HEROES, 
 
 WHO TRAVERSED THE WILDERNESS IN 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST QUEBEC, IN 1775. 
 
 THE above is the title of a little volume of about two hundred pages. It 
 was written by the Hon. John Joseph Henry, for the instruction and amuse 
 ment of his children, and was not published until after his death, in 1812.* 
 The author, the son of William Henry, Esq., the inventor of the screw- augur, 
 was bora at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1758. At the age of fourteen, he 
 was apprenticed to an uncle who was a gunsmith, and accompanied him to 
 Detroit, where, however, his stay was short, on account of the scarcity of 
 business. He returned on foot, with a single guide, who died in the wilder 
 ness which lay between Detroit and his home, and it was there that hard 
 ships and misfortune were first encountered. Soon after his return, the 
 troubles of his country aroused attention, and his arduous mind panted for 
 military glory. In the fall of 1775, he clandestinely joined a corps of Lan 
 caster men raised to reinforce Arnold at Boston. He was then a mere strips 
 ling, the youngest of that band of heroes who accompanied Arnold to Que 
 bec : the day he entered Canada being but his seventeenth birthday. 
 
 While in prison in Quebec, where he lay for nine months, he contracted 
 the scurvy which, on his return, assumed a most malignant form, and fras- 
 trated all his plans of future military life, for which purpose a captaincy 
 had been procured for him in Morgan s famous Virginia rifle regiment. After 
 the war, he studied law and eventually was appointed by Gov. Mifflin,. Pres 
 ident Judge of the Second Judicial District of Pennsylvania. He died in 
 1809, some of the leisure of his last years having been devoted to the writ 
 ing of the instructive narrative to his "dear children." here giv&n in aa 
 abridged form. 
 
 * It may interest persons not familiar with the demand for old scarce wo-As illustrating 
 American History to state, that this small volume, the original price of which was prob 
 ably not over one dollar, brought at an auction in New York City, of rare American works, 
 ten dollars, which is more than its weight in silver it weighing but seven ounces. 
 Another scarce American work, weighing but seventeen ounces was sold to the writer for 
 thirty dollars ; yet these prices are low compared to what books comprising the same 
 amount of matter were in manuscript before the invention of printing. 
 
 4: C51> 
 
52 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 MY DEAR CHILDREN. 
 
 There is a point, in the history of the American revolution, hitherto little 
 attended to ; as yet imperfectly related, and now at this late day almost for 
 gotten ; which would deserve and require the talents and genius of a Xeno- 
 phon, to do it real justice. As your father in early life had a concern in that 
 adventure, permit him to relate to you in the words of truth, a compendious 
 detail of the sufferings of a small band of heroes ; unused, to be sure, to 
 military tactics and due subordination, but whose souls were fired by an en 
 thusiastic love of country, and a spirit such as has often inspired our ances 
 tors, when determined to be free. 
 
 In the autumn of 1775, our adorable Washington, thought it prudent to 
 make a descent upon Canada. A detachment from the American grand 
 army, then in the vicinity of Boston, was organized, to fulfill this intention, 
 by the route of the Kennebec and Chaudiere Rivers. It was intended as a 
 co-operation with the army of General Montgomery, who had entered tho 
 same province, by the way of Champlain and Montreal. Colonel Benedict 
 Arnold was appointed the commander-in-chief of the whole detachment, 
 which consisted of eleven hundred men. Colonel Enos was second in com 
 mand. Riflemen composed a part of the armament. These companies, from 
 sixty-five to seventy-five strong, were from the southward : that is, Captain 
 Daniel Morgan s company from Virginia ; that of Captain William Hend- 
 ricks from Cumberland county in Pennsylvania, and Captain Matthew 
 Smith s company from the county of Lancaster, in the latter province. The 
 -residue, and bulk of this corps, consisted of troops mainly from Massachu 
 setts, Rhode Island and Connecticut. All these men were of as rude and 
 &ardy a race as ourselves, and as unused to the discipline of a camp, and aa 
 fearless as we were. They were an excellent body of men, formed by nature 
 AS the stamina of an army, fitted for a tough and tight defense of the liber 
 ties of their country. The principal distinction between us, was in our dia 
 lects, our arms, and our dress. Each man of the three companies, bore a rifle- 
 barreled guc, a tomahawk, or small axe, and a long knife, usually called a 
 "scalping-knife," which served for all purposes, in the woods. His under- 
 dress, by no means in a military style, was covered by a deep ash-colored 
 hunting-shirt, leggins, and moccasins, if the latter could be procured. It was 
 .the silly fashion of those times, for riflemen to ape the manners of savages. 
 
 Our commander, Arnold, was of a remarkable character. He was brave, 
 even to temerity, was beloved by the soldiery, perhaps for that quality 
 only : he possessed great powers of persuasion, was complaisant : but withal 
 sordidly avaricious. Arnold was a short handsome man, of a florid com 
 plexion, stoutly made, and forty years old at least. On the other hand 
 Morgan was a large strong-bodied personage, whose appearance gave the 
 idea history has left us of Belisarius. His manners were of the severer 
 cast ; but where he became attached he was kind and truly affectionate. 
 This is said, from experience of the most sensitive and pleasing nature ; ac 
 tivity, spirit and courage in a soldier, procured his good will and esteem. 
 Hendricks was tall, of a mi .d and -beautiful countenance. His soul was an 
 imated by a genuine spark of heroism. Smith was a good looking man, had 
 the air of a soldier, was illiterate and outrageously talkative. The officers 
 of the pastern troops, were many of them men of sterling worth. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 53 
 
 Our little army, in high spirits, marched from Prospect Hill, near Cam 
 bridge, on the llth of September, 1775, to New^uryport ; from thence we 
 embarked in transports to the mouth of the Kennebcc, run up that river 
 one hundred and fifty miles to Colonel Cobourn s ship-yard, there obtained 
 batteaux, and proceeded to Fort Western. Here it was concluded to dis 
 patch an officer and seven men in advance, for the purposes of ascertaining 
 and marking the paths, which were used by the Indians at the numerous 
 carrying- places in the wilderness, toward the heads of the river; and also, 
 to ascertain the course of the River Chaudiere, which runs from the height 
 of land, toward Quebec. 
 
 To give some degree of certainty of success to so hazardous an enterprise, 
 Arnold found it necessary to select an officer of activity and courage ; the 
 choice fell upon Archibald Steele of Smith s company, a man of an active, 
 courageous, sprightly and hardy disposition, who was complimented with 
 the privilege of naming his companions. These consisted of Jesse Wheeler, 
 George Merchant, and James Clifton, of Morgan s ; and Robert Cunningham, 
 Thomas Boyd, John Tidd, and John M Konkey, of Smith s -company. 
 Though a very youth, yet in a small degree accustomed to hardships, de 
 rived from long marches in the American woods, Steele s course of selec 
 tion next fell upon your father, who was his messmate and friend. Two 
 birch-bark canoes were provided ; and two guides, celebrated for the man 
 agement of such water-craft, and who knew the river as high up as the 
 great carrying-place, were also found. These were Jeremiah Getchel, a 
 very respectable man, and John Home, an Irishman, who had grown gray 
 in this cold climate. 
 
 This small party, unconscious of danger, and animated by a hope of ap 
 plause from their country, set forward from Fort Western in their light 
 barks, at the rate of from fifteen to twenty, and in good water twenty-five 
 miles per day. These canoes are so light, that a person of common strength, 
 may carry one of the smaller kind, such as ours were, many hundred yards 
 without halting. 
 
 On the evening of the 23d of September, our party arrived at Fort Hal 
 ifax, situated on the point, formed by a junction of the Sabasticoog and 
 Kennebec Rivers. Here our commander, Steele, was accosted by a Captain 
 Harrison, or Huddlestone, inviting him and the company to his house. The 
 invitation was gladly accepted, as the accommodation at the fort, which con 
 sisted of old block-houses and a stockade in a ruinous state, did not admit of 
 much comfort ; besides it was inhabited, as our friend the captain said, by a 
 -ank tory. Here, for the first time, the application of the American term 
 "tory," was defined to me by the captain. Its European definition was well 
 known before. In a very few days, we arrived safely at Norridgeuoc Falls, 
 and passed the portage. We ascended the river rapidly, blazing every car 
 rying-place. Having now seceded many miles from the last white inhabit 
 ants at Norridgewoc, it became us therefore to proceed cautiously. The 
 party proceeded without molestation, but from natural rock, and a strict cur 
 rent (by the 27th of September), to the twelve-mile carrying-place. We 
 searched for the carrying- place, and found a path tolerably distinct, which 
 we made more so by blazing the trees and snagging the bushes with our 
 tomahawks. Proceeding until evening, the party encamped at the margin 
 
5 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of a small lake, perhaps about half a mile wide, where there was plenty of 
 trout, which old Clifton, who was good at angling, caught in abundance. 
 Here, in a conference on the subject, it was resolved that two persons of tha 
 party, Clifton and M Konkey, should remain (with about one half of the 
 provisions), until the return of our main, body, calculating the return would 
 be in eight or ten days. 
 
 By the next evening we encamped on the north bank of the Dead River, 
 an extension of the Kennebec. The company, not apprehending the re 
 verses which fortune had in store for them, proceeded on next -day full of 
 courage and hope, through a strong drift of snow, which whitening all the 
 surrounding hills, had fallen during the night. 
 
 As we could not obtain food, in this miserable portion of the globe, we pru 
 dently began to hoard our provision ; half a biscuit and half an inch square 
 of raw pork became this evening s meal. The day s journey had brought 
 us to the foot of a rapid, which convinced us that the term "Dead River," 
 was much misapplied. The night was spent, not upon feathers, but on the 
 branches of the fir or tho spruce. It would astonish you, my dear children, 
 if there was leisure to explain the many comforts and advantages those 
 trees afford to the way-worn traveler. 
 
 In a few days, October 7th, we came to a succession of ponds at the head of 
 Dead River, and in some cases the communication being shallow we were 
 obliged to carry our canoes from one to the other. My wardrobe was light 
 and scanty, and as winter was approaching I suffered from the piercing cold. 
 About three P. M. the next day, we reached the extreme end of the fifth 
 and last lake, where we obtained a full view of those hills which were then, 
 and are now, called the "Height of Land." It made an impression upon 
 us, that was really more chilling than the air which surrounded us. We 
 hurried ashore drew out our canoes, and covered them with leaves and 
 brush- wood. This done, with our arms in our hands, and our provision in 
 our pockets, we made a race across the mountain, by an Indian path, easily 
 ascertainable, until we arrived on the bank of the Chaudiere River. The 
 distance is about five miles, counting the rising and descent of the hill as 
 two. This was the acme of our desires. To discover and know the course 
 of this river, was the extent of our orders : beyond it, we had nothing to 
 do. Our chief, wishing to do everything a good officer could to forward the 
 service, asked if any one could climb a tree, around the foot of which we 
 then stood ? It was a pine of considerable height, without branches for forty 
 feet ; Robert Cunningham, a strong athletic man, about twenty-five years 
 old, presented himself. In almost the twinkling of an eye he climbed the 
 tree. He fully discerned the meandering course of the river, as upon a map, 
 and even descried the lake Chaudiere, at the distance of fourteen or fifteen 
 miles. The country around and between us and the lake was flat. Looking 
 westward, he observed a smoke ; intimating this to us from the tree where 
 he sat we plainly perceived it. Cunningham came down ; the sun was set 
 ting seemingly in a clear sky. 
 
 Now our return commenced and rapidly we ran in a single file, and it so 
 happened that your farther brought up the rear. Soon the rain began to pour 
 in torrents, the night became dark as pitch, and in crossing a ridge rny foot 
 caught in a root or a twig, and I fell I know not how far, perhaps twenty or 
 
OF AMERICANS. 55 
 
 thirty feet. Stunned by the fall, the others had got far ahead ere I recov 
 ered myself. My arrival at the canoe place was delayed thereby until 
 ten o clock, an hour and a half after my companions, who had erected a 
 wigwam of poles covered by branches of fir. Sleep came to my eyes, not 
 withstanding the drippings of the pelting storm through the humble roof. 
 We arose before day. The canoes were urged suddenly into the water ; 
 Btill rained hard, and at daylight we thought of breakfasting. Graciou: 
 God ! what was our fare ? What could we produce for such a feast ? Rum 
 maging my breeches pockets, I found a solitary biscuit and an inch of pork. 
 Half of the biscuit was devoted to the breakfast, and so also by each person, 
 and that was consumed in the canoes as we paddled over the lake. Tho. 
 rain had raised the lake, and consequently the outlets about four feet. We 
 slided glibly along, over passages where a few days previously, we had toted 
 our canoes. At the outlet of the fourth lake, counting as we came up, a 
 small duck appeared within shooting distance. It was a diver, well known 
 in our country a thing which we here contemn. Knowing the value of 
 animal food, in our predicament, several of us fired at the diver. Jesse 
 Wheeler, however (who all acknowledged as an excellent shot), struck it 
 with his ball. A shout of joy arose the little diver was safely deposited 
 in our canoe. We went on quickly, without accident, till the evening, prob 
 ably traversing a space of more than forty miles. At night-fall we halted, 
 weary and without tasting food since morning. Boyd and Cunningham, who 
 were right-hand-men on most occasions, soon kindled a fire against a fallen 
 tree. The cooks, according to routine, picked the duck, and when picked 
 and gutted, it was brought to the fireside. Here it became a question, how 
 to make the most of our stock of provisions. Finally, it was concluded to 
 boil the duck in our camp-kettle, together with each man s bit of pork, dis 
 tinctively marked by running a small skewer of wood through it, with his 
 particular and private designation ; that the broth thus formed, should bo 
 the supper, and the duck on the ensuing morning should be the breakfast, 
 and which should be distributed by " whose shall be this ?" Strange as this 
 tale may appear to you, in these times, the agreement was religiously per 
 formed. Being young, my appetite was ravenous as that of a wolf, but 
 honor bound the stomach tightly. We rose early, and each person selected 
 his bit of pork, which made but a single mouthful ; there was no contro 
 versy. The diver was parted most fairly, into ten shares, each one eyeing 
 the integrity of the division. Setting out early, by the evening we made 
 nearly fifty miles. The bit of pork and the rest of the biscuit became my 
 supper. My colleagues were similarly situated. The morning sun saw us 
 without any food. We did not despond. The consolatory idea, that on that, 
 or the next day, we should certainly join the army, infused energy into our 
 minds and bodies. The succeeding morning (llth), starting early, we ran 
 at a monstrous rate. The waters, by additional rains above, had risen 
 greatly. After some time, the light canoe, several hundred yards before us, 
 (with Steele and Getchel in it), passed between the forks of a tree, which 
 lay rooted in the middle of the stream, where most likely it had lain fof 
 many years. Seeing our friends pass through safely, and being unconscious 
 that we were worse or less adventurous watermen than they were, we risked 
 it. Wo ran with great velocity. My good Irishman steered. By an un- 
 
56 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 lucky stroke, one of the prongs of the tree took the right hand side of the 
 canoe, within six inches of the bow, immediately below the gunwale. 
 Quick as lightning that side of the canoe was laid open from stem to stern, 
 and water was gushing in upon us, which would inevitably have sunk us in 
 a second of time, but for that interference of Providence, which is atheisti- 
 cally called presence of mind, otherwise a host of men could not have saved 
 us from a watery grave. Instinctively leaning to the left, we sunk the gun- 
 wale of that side down to the water s edge, by which we raised the broken 
 side an inch or more out of it. Calling loudly to our companions aheac\, 
 they soon saw our distress and put in. Carefully and steadily sitting, and 
 gently paddling many hundred yards, we landed safely. Our situation was 
 truly horrible. When we had examined the broken canoe, and had rum 
 maged both for the means of mending it, every heart seemed dismayed. 
 Our birch-bark and pitch, had been exhausted in former repairs, we were 
 without food, perhaps one hundred miles from the army, or perhaps that 
 army had returned to New England. That sensation of the mind called 
 " the horrors," seemed to prevail. Getchel alone was really sedate and re 
 flective. He ordered the other guide to search for birch-bark, whilst he 
 would look among the pines for turpentine. We followed the one or the 
 other of these worthies, according to our inclinations, and soon returned 
 with those desirable materials. The cedar root was in plenty under our 
 feet. Now a difficulty occurred, which had been unforeseen, and which was 
 seemingly destructive of all hope. This was the want of fat or oil of every 
 kind, with which to make the turpentine into pitch. A lucky thought oc 
 curred to the youngest of the company, that the pork bag, lay empty and 
 neglected, in one of the canoes. The thought and the act of bringing it 
 were instantaneous. The bag was ripped, and as if it had been so much gold 
 dust, we scraped from it about a pint of dirty fat. Getchel now prepared 
 an abundance of pitch. The cedar root gave us twine. The canoe was 
 brought up to the fire. We found every rib except a few at the extreme 
 points, actually torn from the gunwale. All hands set to work two hours 
 afterward, the canoe was borne to the water. 
 
 We embarked, and proceeding cautiously, as we thought, along the shore, 
 a snag, standing up stream, struck through the bottom of the canoe. It took 
 an hour to patch the gap. The cup of sorrow was not yet full. As the men 
 were bearing the wounded canoe to the water, sergeant Boyd who paddled 
 in the small canoe, which was drawn up as usual, taking hold of the bow 
 raised it waist high (as was right) intending to slide it gently into the 
 water the bank was steep and slippery : Mr. Boyd s feet slipped the canoa 
 ell from his hands its own weight falling upon the cavity, formed by the 
 declivity of the bank and the water broke it in the center, into two pieces, 
 and which were held together by nothing but the gunwales. Now absolute 
 despair for the first time seized me. A thought came across my mind, that 
 the Almighty had destined us to die of hunger, in this inhospitable wilder 
 ness. The recollection of my parents, my brothers and sister, and the clan 
 destine and cruel manner of my deserting them, drew from me some hidden, 
 yet burning tears, and much mental contrition. Getchel thoughtful and 
 active, instantly went to work. The canoe was brought to the fire, and 
 placed in a proper posture for the operation. The lacerated parts were neatly 
 
OF AMERICANS. 57 
 
 brought together, and sewed with cedar root A large ridge of pitch, as is 
 customary in the construction of this kind of water-craft, was laid over the 
 seam to make it water-tight. Over the seam a patch of strong bark a foot 
 in width, and of a length sufficient to encircle the bottom, even to the gun 
 wales, was sewed down at the edges and pitched. Again, over the whole 
 of the work, it was thought prudent to place our pork bag, which was well 
 saturated with liquid fat. It was a full yard wide, and was laid down in 
 the same manner. This work, which was laborious, nearly consumed the 
 rest of the day. 
 
 We set out notwithstanding the lateness of the hour. Hunger drove us 
 along at a cautious but rapid rate. About dusk the lieutenant s canoe, four 
 hundred yards before us, had within view turned a sharp point of land, 
 when we heard the crack of a rifle, and presently another, and a huzza. 
 Apprehending an attack from an enemy, we pulled hard to be enabled to 
 sustain our friends. In a moment or two, observing them pulling for the 
 north shore, which was steep, we looked up it for the enemy. Good Heav 
 ens ! what a sight ! We saw a moose-deer, falling on the top of the bank. 
 A cry of exultation seemed to burst the narrow valley of the river. Steele 
 had struck the deer in the flank, as it was leaving the water, but it sprung 
 up the bank with agility. Wheeler, with better fortune for us all, pierced 
 its heart as it arrived at the top. Seeing this you can scarcely imagine the 
 celerity of our movements. We were ashore in a moment. A fire was 
 kindled, the secondary guide cut off the nose and upper lip of the animal, 
 instantly, and had it on the fire. What a feast ! But we were prudent. 
 We sat up all night, selecting the fat and tit-bits frying, boiling, roasting 
 and broiling, but carefully eating little at a time. Toward morning, we slept 
 a few hours, absolutely careless of consequences. We knew that we had 
 arrived in a land where game was plentiful, and where there were no foes 
 superior to our number, to oppose us. The next day we shot a moose and 
 a large gray wolf ; and on the morning of the 13th arrived at our first camp 
 ing ground on the "Dead River," in good health and spirits ; though pallid 
 and weak, for the want of substantial food in due quantity. 
 
 By this time the fat and marrow of the animals we had killed were ex 
 hausted, and our stock of salt had been long since expended. One who has 
 never been deprived of bread and salt, nor known the absence of oleaginous 
 substances in his food, cannot make a true estimate of the invaluable bene 
 fits of such ingredients in the sustenation of the bodily frame ; nor of the 
 extremity of our corporeal debility. 
 
 It was immediately concluded to preserve our provisions by jerking or 
 smoking. This operation is done by slicing the meat into thin strips ; then 
 driving four forks into the earth, in a square position, at the required dis 
 tance perpendicularly, and laying poles from fork to fork, and poles athwart 
 frcm pole to pole. A rack is thus made, about four feet high, on which the 
 sliced meat is laid, and smoke-fires are made underneath ; this duty was 
 soon performed. We now began to look about us, and discuss the subject 
 of our return to the army, which we had, before this time, persuaded our 
 selves we should meet at this place. The non-appearance of the army and 
 our distress, induced a conclusion that we were deserted, and abandoned to 
 a disastrous fate, the inevitable result of which would be, a sinking into 
 
58 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 eternity for the want of food, for though we might have killed more deer, 
 the vigor of our bodies was so reduced, that we were convinced that that 
 kind of food could not restore us to our wonted energy, and enable us to 
 perform so rugged and long a march, as that to the frontiers of Maine. The 
 notion of navigating the river was scouted as a fallacy, because we did not 
 possess a sufficient degree of bodily force to bear the canoes across the 
 twelve-mile carrying-place. As, in the case of the retreat of the army, we 
 had determined to follow, it became requisite to finish the jerking, which 
 would take six days, to make it the more portable, for our feebleness, and 
 preservable if we should have wet weather on the march. It was further 
 concluded, " that Lieutenant Steele, Getchel and Wheeler, should immedi 
 ately proceed on foot across the twelve-mile carrying-place, to meet the army : 
 if they did meet it, that they should return to us with supplies by the end 
 of three days> but in all events to return." 
 
 Now we experienced the full extent of a new species of starving. Hav 
 ing neither bread, nor salt, nor fat of any kind, every day we remained here 
 we became more and more weak and emaciated. We had plenty of meat, 
 both fresh and dried, of which we ate four, five and six times a day, in 
 every shape we had the means of dressing it. Though we gorged the 
 stomach, the appetite was unsatiated. Something like a diarrhea ensued, 
 which contributed to the imbecility of our bodies. Bears-oil would have 
 made our venison savory, but such an animal as a bear we had as yet not 
 seen in all our wanderings. On the evening of the fourth day, we looked 
 out for our absent companions with much heartfelt anxiety. They came 
 not. In the morning of the next day, we consulted upon the question 
 whether we should follow the army. A majority voted for staying a few 
 days longer to complete the jerking. To show you the great bodily weak 
 ness we were brought to, it may be proper to relate the following anecdote as 
 more evincive of the fact, than any other method which might be adopted, 
 to bring it fully to your minds. Sergeant Boyd (the strongest and stout 
 est man of the party, and perhaps of the army) and myself, taking our 
 arms, started on in hopes of meeting the advance of the army. We stag 
 gered along through the plain, falling every now and then, if our toes but 
 touched a twig or tuft of grass. Thus going forward, we arrived at the edge 
 of a moss-bog. Here my worthy friend Boyd, unable to proceed, sunk down 
 upon a log. My seat, in tears of excruciating grief, was taken beside him, 
 endeavoring to infuse comfort and courage into his manly mind it was in 
 vain. The debility of his body had disarmed his courageous soul. Every 
 art in my power was exercised to induce him to pass the bog he would not 
 listen to me on that subject. Melancholy of the desperate kind oppressed me. 
 Convinced that the army had retreated, a prognostication resulted in my 
 mind, that we should all die of mere debility in these wilds. We sat here an 
 hour. At length we agreed to return to our camp, though it was yet early in 
 the afternoon. Our companions were pleased to see us, thinking our coming 
 so soon indicated good news, but a gloom of desperation followed. As a 
 last effort to save our lives, we all agreed to pass the river the next morning 
 and follow the army, which we were now assured had returned to Fort 
 Western. Each one put into his knapsack, as much of our mawkish food,, 
 as he could conveniently carry. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 59 
 
 We started early, the next day passed the river, and moved forward, as 
 fast as our feeble limbs would carry us. When we came to the log where 
 Boyd had seated himself, we were filled with ecstatic joy to observe, on the 
 far side of the bog, a party of pioneers forming a causeway for the passage 
 of the army. Our strength redoubled we passed the bo with considerable 
 speed. Our wan and haggard faces, and meager bodies, and the monstrous 
 beards of my companions, who had neglected to carry a razor with them, 
 seemed to strike a deep sorrow into the hearts of the pioneers. They gave 
 us a little of their food ; but what exhilarated us more, was the information, 
 that Major Febiger with- the advanced-guard, lay at the next pond-. We 
 urged forward as fast as we could. Arriving at his fire a little before my com 
 pany, an incapacity to stand compelled me to sit. Febiger, in a hurried 
 manner, asked who we were ? and from whence we came ? A few words 
 explained the mystery and cause of our distress. A glistening tear stood in 
 this brave soldier s eye. As it were with a sudden and involuntary motion 
 and much tenderness, he handed me his wooden canteen (which contained 
 the last spirits in the army); from me it passed to Cunningham, who had 
 just come tip, the most ghastly and wayworn figure in nature ; from him it 
 went round to the rest, who arrived gradually, but slowly. The heart of 
 Febiger seemed overjoyed at the relief he had, and could afford us. The 
 liquor had restored our fainting spirits, but this was not enough for his gen 
 erosity to exhibit. He requested us to take seats around the fire, and wait 
 the boiling of his kettle, which was well replenished with pork and dump- 
 lins. This was all devoted to our use, accompanied by an open heartedness 
 and the kindest expressions of interest for our sufferings, and regard for our 
 perseverance in our duty as military men. This meal to all of us seemed a 
 renewal of life. It was accustomed food. Our more immediate and inti 
 mate friends were still beyond the pond, but coming forward. By and by, 
 Morgan came, large, a commanding aspect, and stentorian voice. He wore 
 leggins, and a cloth in the Indian style. His thighs, which were exposed 
 to view, appeared to have been lacerated by the thorns and bushes. He 
 knew our story from Steele and Wheeler, and greeted us kindly. We now 
 found ourselves at home, in the bosom of a society of brave men, with 
 whom we were not only willing, but anxious to meet the brunts of war. 
 This was the twenty-sixth day we had been absent from the army. In the 
 evening we resumed our stations in our respective messes. 
 
 We now turned our faces toward the north, and accompanied the army 
 as a s ort of guides in minute matters, for the paths and carry ing- pi aces we 
 had sufficiently developed for the pioneers to open a way. The next day 
 we reached our old camping ground on Dead River, where the three compa 
 nies of riflemen, under Daniel Morgan, remained encamped for several days 
 waiting for the arrival of the remainder of the troops. During our sta) r it 
 pleased me to observe that Morgan adopted certain rules of discipline abso 
 lutely necessary to the state we were in, but discordant with the wild and 
 extravagant notions of our private men. 
 
 At this place, Morgan had given it out in orders, that no one should fire, 
 One Chamberlaine, a worthless fellow, who did not think it worth while to 
 draw his bullet, had gone some hundreds of yards into the woods, and dis 
 charged his gun. Lieut. Steele happened to be in that quarter at the time : 
 
60 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Steele had but arrived at the fire, where we sat, when Morgan, who had seen 
 him coming, approached our camp, and seated himself within our circle. 
 Presently Chamberlaine came, gun in hand, and was passing our fire, toward 
 that of his mess. Morgan called to the soldier accused him as the de 
 faulter this the rn^in (^an arrant liar) denied. Morgan appealed to Steele. 
 Steele admitted he heard the report, but knew not the party who discharged 
 the gun. Morgan suddenly springing to a pile of billets, took one, and 
 s\vore he would knock the accused down unless he confessed the fact. In- 
 stantly, Smith seized another billet, and swore he would strike Morgan if ho 
 struck the man. Morgan knowing the tenure of his rank, receded. Such 
 were the rough-hewn characters, which in a few subsequent years, by energy 
 of mind and activity .of body, bore us safely through the dreadful storms 
 of the revolution. Morgan was of an impetuous temper, yet withal, prudent 
 in war, as he was fearless of personal danger. His passions were quick and 
 easily excited, but they were soon cooled. This observation is applicable 
 to many men of great talents, and to none more than Morgan. His severity, 
 at times, has made me shudder, though it was necessary, yet it would have 
 been a pleasing trait in his character, if it had been less rigid. 
 
 During our resting here, Arnold, accompanied by Steele and some excel 
 lent boatmen, proceeded to the head of the river. The rifle corps preceded 
 the main body of the army, both by land and water. The boats, which 
 were heavily laden with baggage and provisions, took in no more men than 
 were necessary to navigate them, that is, three to a boat. The remainder 
 of the army marched by land, the river being generally the guide. 
 
 After a week of intense labor and fatigue we reached the Chaudiere, Octo 
 ber 29th, and encamped on a plain on the river bank. Here we learned 
 for the first time that Colonel Enos had basely deserted us. He turned back 
 toward the New England settlements from the twelve-mile carrying-place, 
 with five hundred men, a large stock of provisions, and the medicine chest. 
 It damped our spirits much, but our commander conceived k *vas better to 
 proceed than return. We were about a hundred miles from the frontier of 
 Canada, but treble that distance from that of New England. Our provisions 
 were exhausted. We had no meat of any kind. The flour which remained, 
 so far as I know, was divided fairly and equally, among the whole of the 
 troops, the riflemen shared five pints of flour per man. During the night 
 and the ensuing morning, the flour was baked into five cakes per man, under 
 the ashes, in the way of Indian bread. 
 
 On the 30th of October, we set forward. The men were told by the 
 officers " that order would not be required in the march, each one must put the 
 best foot foremost." The first day s march was closed by a charming sleep 
 on fir-branches. The gentlemen of our mess lay together, covering them 
 selves with the blankets of each one. My memory does not serve to say- 
 that any stir was made by any one during the night. Happening to be the 
 first who awaked in the morning, the blanket was suddenly thrown from 
 my her.i, but what was my surprise to find, that we had lain under a covet 
 of at least four inches of snow. 
 
 This morning, the first of November, we took up the line of march through 
 a flat and boggy ground. About ten o clock A. M. we arrived, by a narrow 
 neck of land at a marsh which was appalling. It was three fourths of a 
 
OF AMERICANS. t Cl 
 
 mile over, and covered by a coat of ice, half an inch thick. Here Simpson 
 concluded to halt a short time for the stragglers or maimed of Heridrick s 
 and Smith s companies to come up. There were two women attached to 
 thase companies, who arrived before we commenced the march. One was 
 the wife of Sergeant Grier, a large, virtuous and respectable woman. Tho 
 other was the wife of a private of our company, a man who lagged upon 
 every occasion. These women being arrived, it was presumed that all our 
 party were up. We were on the point of entering the marsh, when some 
 one cried out "Warner is not here." Another said he had "sat down sick 
 under a tree, a few miles back." His wife begging us to wait a short time, 
 with tears of affection in her eyes, ran back to her husband. We tarried an 
 hour. They came not. Entering the pond, and breaking the ice here and 
 there with the butts of our guns and feet, as occasion required, we were soon 
 waist deep in the mud and water. As is generally the case with youths, it 
 came to my mind, that a better path might be found than that of the more 
 elderly guide. Attempting this, in a trice the water cooling my armpits, 
 made me gladly return into the file. Now Mrs. Grier had got before me. 
 My mind was humbled, yet astonished, at the exertions of this good woman- 
 Her clothes more than waist high, she waded before me to the firm ground. 
 No one so long as she was known to us, dared to intimate a disrespectful 
 idea of her. Her husband, who was an excellent soldier, was on duty in 
 Hendricks boat, which had proceeded to the discharge of the lake with 
 Lieutenant M Cleland. Arriving at firm ground, and waiting again for our 
 companions, we then set oif, and in a march of several miles, over a scrubby 
 and flat plain, arrived at a river flowing from the east into the Chaudiere 
 Lake, which we reached, and e; . imped at its outlet with a heterogeneous 
 mass of the army. It was soon perceived, that the French term Chaudiere, 
 was most aptly applied to the river below us. Indeed every part of it, which 
 came under our view, until we arrived at the "first house," in Canada, might 
 well be termed a caldron or boiler, which is the import of its French name. 
 It is remarkable of this rivor, and which, to me, distinguishes it from all 
 others I had seen, that for sixty or seventy miles, it is a continued rapid, 
 without any apparent gap or passage, even for a canoe. Every boat we put 
 into the river, was stove in one part or other of it. 
 
 On the morning of the 2d of November, we set off from the Chaudiere 
 Lake, and hungered, as to my own particular, almost to death. What with 
 the supplies to Shaeffer, and my own appetite, food of any kind, with me, 
 had become a nonentity. My own sufferings, in the two succeeding marches, 
 from particular causes, were more than ordinarily severe. My moccasins 
 had, many days since, been worn to shreds and cast aside : My shoes, though 
 they had been well sewed and hitherto stuck together, now began to give 
 way, and that in the very worst part (the upright seam in the heel). For 
 one to save his life, must keep his station in the rank the moment that 
 was lost, as nature and reason dictate, the following soldier assumed his 
 place. Thus, once thrown out of the file, the unfortunate wretch must 
 await the passage of many men, until a chasm, toward the rear, happened 
 to open for his admission. This explanation will answer some questions 
 which you might naturally put. Why did you not sew it ? Why did you 
 not tie the shoe to your foot ? If there had been awl, and thread, and 
 
(52 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 strings at command, which, there were not, for the causes above stated, one 
 dared not have done either, as the probable consequences would ensue, 
 "death by hunger in a dreary wilderness." For man when thrown out of 
 society is the most helpless of God s creatures. Hence you may form a 
 conception of the intolerable labor of the march. Every step taken the heel 
 of the foot slipped out of the shoe : to recover the position of the foot in 
 tho shoe, and at the same time to stride, was hard labor, and exhausted my 
 strength to an unbearable degree. You must remember that this march was 
 not performed on the level surface of the parade, but over precipitous hills, 
 deep gulleys, and even without the path of the vagrant savage to guide us. 
 Thus we proceeded till toward mid-day, the pale and meager looks of my 
 companions, tottering on their feeble limbs, corresponding with my own. 
 My friend Simpson, who saw my enfeebled condition and tho cause, pre 
 vailed with the men to rest themselves a few minutes. Bark, the only suc- 
 cedaneum for twine, or leather, in this miserable country, was immediately 
 procured and the shoe bound tightly to the foot. Then marching hastily, 
 in the course of an hour or more, we came within view of a tremendous 
 cataract in the river, from twelve to twenty feet high. The horror this sight 
 gave us, fearing for the safety of our friends in the boats, was aggravated, 
 when turning the point of a steep cragg, we met those very friends, having 
 lost all but their lives, sitting around a fire on the shore. God ! what 
 were our sensations I Poor M Cleland, first lieutenant of Hendricks was 
 lying at the fire ; he beckoned to us his voice was not audible, placing my 
 ear close to his lips, the word he uttered, scarcely articulate, was, "Fare 
 well." Simpson, who loved him, gave him half of the pittance of food 
 which he still possessed ; all I could was a tear. Coming to a long sandy 
 beach of the Chaudiere, for we sometimes had such, some men of our com 
 pany were observed to dart from the file, and with their nails, tear out of 
 the sand, roots which they esteemed eatable, and ate them raw, even with 
 out washing. Languid and woe-begone, as your father was, it could not but 
 create a smile, to observe the whole line watching with "Argus eyes," the 
 motions of a few men, who knew the indications in the sand of those roots. 
 The knowing one sprung, half a dozen followed, he who grabbed it, eat the 
 root instantly. Though hunger urged, it was far from me to contend in that 
 way with powerful men, such as those were. Strokes often occurred. 
 
 During this day s march (about ten or eleven, A. M.), my shoe having 
 given away again, we came to a fire, where were some of Captain Thayer, or 
 Topham s men. Simpson was in front, trudging after, slipshod and tired, I 
 sat down on the end of a long log, against which the fire was built, absolutely 
 fainting with hunger and fatigue, my gun standing between rny knees. Seat 
 ing myself, that very act gave a cast to the kettle, which was placed partly 
 against the log, in such a way, as to spill two-thirds of its contents. At the 
 moment a large man sprung to his gun, and pointing it toward me, he threa 
 tened to shoot. It created no fear ; his life was with much more certainty 
 in my power. Death would have been a welcome visitor. Simpson soon 
 made us friends. Coming to their fire, they gave me a cup of their broth. 
 A table-spoonful was all that was tasted. It had a greenish hue, and was 
 said to be that of a bear. This was instantly known to be untrue, from the 
 taste and smell. It was that of a dog. He was a large black Newfoundland 
 
OF AMERICANS. 63 
 
 dog, belonging to Thayer, and very fat* We left these merry fellows, for 
 they were actually such, mauger all their wants, and marching quickly, to 
 ward evening encamped. We had a good fire, but no food. To me the 
 world had lost its charms. Gladly would death have been received as an 
 auspicious herald from the Divinity. My privations in every way, were 
 such as to produce a willingness to die. Without food, without clothing, 
 to keep me warm, without money, and in a deep and devious wilderness, 
 the idea occurred, and the means were in my hands, of ending existence. 
 The God of all goodness inspired other thoughts. One principal cause of 
 change (under the fostering hand of Providence) in my sentiments, was the 
 jovial hilarity of my friend Simpson. At night, warming our bodies at an 
 immense fire, our compatriots joined promiscuously around to animate the 
 company, he would sing " Plato ;" his sonorous voice gave spirit to my heart, 
 and the morality of the song, consolation to my mind. In truth, the music, 
 though not so correct as that of Handel, added strength and vigor to our 
 nerves. This evening it was, that some of our companions, whose stomachs 
 had not received food, for the last forty-eight hours, adopted the notion, 
 that leather, though it had been manufactured, might be made palatable 
 food, and would gratify the appetite. Observing their discourse, to me the 
 experiment became a matter of curiosity. They washed their moccasins of 
 mooseskin, in the first place, in the river, scraping away the dirt and sand, 
 with great care. These were brought to the kettle and boiled a considerable 
 time, under the vague, but consolatory hope, that a mucilage would take 
 place. The boiling over, the poor fellows chewed the leather, but it was 
 leather still : not to be macerated. My teeth, though young and good, suc 
 ceeded no better. Disconsolate and weary, we passed the night. 
 
 November 3d. We arose early, hunger impelling, and marched rapidly. 
 After noon, on a point on the bank of the river, some one pretended he de 
 scried the "first house," ten miles off. Not long after another discerned a 
 boat coming toward us, and turning a point of land presently, all perceived 
 cattle driving up the shore. These circumstances, gave occasion to a feeble 
 huzza of joy, from those who saw these cheerful and enlivening sights. We 
 were now treading a wide and stony beach of the river. Smith, our captain, 
 who at this moment happened to be in company, elated with the prospect 
 of a supply of food, in the joy of his heart, perhaps thoughtlessly, said to 
 me, "take this Henry." It was gladly received. Opening the paper, which 
 had been neatly folded, there appeared a hand s breadth and length of bacon- 
 fat, of an inch thick ; thoughtlessly, it was eaten greedily, inattentive to ah 
 former rule, and thanks to God, did me no harm. 
 
 Here it was that for the first time, AARON BURR, a most amiable youth of 
 twenty, came to my view. He then was a cadet. It will require a most 
 cogent evidence, to convince my mind, that he ever intended any ill to his 
 country of late years, by his various speculations. Though differing in polit 
 ical opinion from him, no reason has yet been laid before me, to induce a 
 belief, that he was traitorous to his country. 
 
 We marched as hastily as our wearied and feeble limbs could admit, 
 hoping soon to share in something like an Abyssinian feast. The curvatures 
 of the river, had deceived us in the calculation of distance. It was many 
 hours ere we came to the place of slaughter. We found a fire, but no pro- 
 
64: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 vision, except a small quantity of oaten meal, resembling in grit our chop 
 ped rye. Simpson warmed some of this in water, and ate with gusto. To 
 me it was nauseous : this may have been owing to the luncheon from Smith s 
 hoard. The French men told us, that those who preceded, had devoured 
 the very entrails of the cattle. One of the eastern men, as we came to tho 
 fire, was- gorging the last bit of the colon, half rinsed half broiled. It may 
 be said, he ate with pleasure, as- he tore it as a hungry dog would tear a 
 haunch of meat. We soon encamped for the night, cheered by the hope of 
 succor. 
 
 November Jtth. About two o clock, p. M., we arrived at a large stream 
 coming from the east, which we ran through, though more than mid-deep. 
 This was the most chilling bath we had hitherto received : the weather was 
 raw and cold. It was the seventeenth and the harshest of my birthdays. 
 Within a few hundred yards of the river stood the " first house" in Canada : 
 we approached it in ecstacy, sure of being relieved from death by the means 
 of famine. 
 
 Many of our compatriots were unaware of that death which arises from 
 sudden repletion. The active spirit of Arnold, with such able assistants as 
 John M. Taylor and Steele, had laid in a great stock of provisions. The 
 inen were furious, voracious, and insatiable. Three starvations had taught 
 me wisdom. My friends took my advice. But, notwithstanding the irre 
 fragable arguments the officers used to insure moderation, the men were out 
 rageous upon the subject ; they had no comprehension of such reasoning. 
 
 Among these was one, of our company, a good and orderly soldier, who, 
 from my affection toward him, I watched like another doctor Pedro Posi 
 tive ; yet all re-presentation and reasoning on my part, had no influence. 
 Boiled beef, hot bread, potatoes, boiled and roasted, were gormandized with 
 out stint. He seemed to defy death, for the mere enjoyment of present 
 gratification, and died two days after. Many of the men sickened. If not 
 much mistaken, we lost three of our company, by their imprudence on this 
 occasion. The immediate extension of the stomach by food, after a lengthy 
 fast, operates a more sudden extinction of life, than the total absence of 
 aliment. 
 
 At this place, we for the first time had the pleasure of seeing the worthy 
 and respectable Indian, Natanis, and his brother Sabatis, with some others 
 of their tribe (the Abenaquis) : he, his brother Sabatis, and seventeen other 
 Indians, the nephews and friends of Natanis, marched with us to Quebec, 
 and were in the attack of that place, on the morning of the first of Jan 
 uary following. This is the first instance in the course of our revolutionary 
 war, of the employment of Indians in actual warfare against our enemies. 
 To be sure, it was the act of a junior commander, unwarranted, so far as has 
 come to my knowledge, by the orders of his superiors ; yet it seemed to 
 authorize, in a small degree, upon the part of our opponents, that horrible 
 system of aggression, which in a short time ensued, and astonished and dis 
 gusted the civilized world. 
 
 Our severest personal sufferings for want of food were over. The march 
 through the wilderness to this point had been dreadful ; one day when near 
 the head of the Chaudiere, a mountain putting into that stream compelled 
 us to pass the margin upon a log, which had been brought there ty a freshet 
 
OF AMERICANS. 65 
 
 The bark and limbs of the tree had been worn away by the rubbings of the 
 ice, and the trunk lay lengthwise along the narrow passage, smooth and slip 
 pery, and gorged the pass. This difficulty had collected here a heteroge 
 neous mass of the troops, who claimed the right of passage according to the 
 order of coming to it. The log was to be footed, or the water, of the depth 
 of three or four feet, must be waded. There was no alternative. An eastern 
 man, bare-footed, bare-headed, and thinly clad, lean and wretched from ab 
 stinence, with his musket in hand, passed the log immediately before me. 
 His foot slipped, and he fell several feet into the water. We passed on re 
 gardless of his fate. Even his immediate friends and comrades, many of 
 whom were on the log at the same moment, did not deign to lend him an 
 assisting hand. Death stared us in the face. I gave him a sincere sigh at 
 parting, for to lose my place in the file, might have been fatal. This pitiable 
 being died in the wilderness. The hard fate of many others might be re 
 capitulated, but the dreadful tale of incidents, if truly told, would merely 
 serve to lacerate the heart of pity, and harrow up the feelings of the soul 
 of benevolence. Tears many years since, have often wetted my cheeks, 
 when recollecting the disasters of that unfortunate campaign, the memorable 
 exit of my dearest friends, and of many worthy fellow-citizens, whose worth 
 at this time is embalmed solely in the breasts of their surviving associates. 
 Seven died sheerly from famine ; and many others by disorders arising from 
 hard service in the wilderness. 
 
 The morning of the 6th of November, we marched in straggling parties 
 through a flat and rich country, sprinkled, it might be said, decorated, by 
 many low houses, all white- washed, which appeared to be the warm abodes 
 of a contented people. Every now and then, a chapel came in sight ; but 
 more frequently the rude, but pious imitations of the sufferings of our 
 Saviour, and the image of the Virgin. These things created surprise, at 
 least in my mind, for where I thought there could be little other than bar 
 barity, we found civilized men, in a comfortable state, enjoying all the ben 
 efits arising from the institutions of civil society. 
 
 About noon of the next day, we arrived at the quarters of Arnold, a sta 
 tion he had taken for the purpose of halting and embodying the whole of 
 our emaciated and straggling troops. We were now perhaps thirty miles 
 from point Levi ; which is on the St. Lawrence, and nearly opposite to Que 
 bec. Here we found our friend Taylor, at a slaughter house worried almost 
 to death, in dealing out the sustenance of life to others. Without hyperbole 
 or circumlocution, he gave us as many pounds of beef-steak as we chose to 
 carry. Proceeding to the next house, a mile below,- some one of the party 
 became cook. Good bread and potatoes, with the accompaniment of beef 
 steak, produced a savory meal. Believing myself out of danger from any 
 extraordinary indulgence of appetite, the due quantity was exceeded, and 
 yet, believe me, it was not more than an anchorite might religiously take. 
 We soon became sensible of this act of imprudence. The march of the 
 afternoon was a dull and heavy one. A fever attacked me. I became ac 
 cording to my feelings, the most miserable of human beings. The evening 
 brought me no comfort, though we slept warmly in a farm house. 
 
 November 7th. The army now formed into more regular and compact 
 order, in the morning pretty early we proceeded. About noon my disorder 
 
66 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 had increased so intolerably, that I could not put a foot forward. Seating 
 myself upon a log at the way-side, the troops passed on. In the rear came 
 Arnold on horseback. He knew my name and character, and good naturedly 
 inquired after my health. Being informed, he dismounted, ran down to the 
 river side, and hailed the owner of the house, which stood opposite across 
 the water. The good Canadian, in his Canoe, quickly arrived. Depositing 
 my gun and accoutrements in the hands of one of our men, who attended 
 upon me, and had been disarmed by losing his rifle in some one of the 
 wreckings above, and Arnold putting two silver dollars into my hands, the 
 Frenchman carried me to his house. Going to bed with a high fever upon 
 me, I lay all this and the following day without tasting food. That had 
 been the cause of the disease, its absence became the cure. 
 
 The morning of the third day (10th November), brought me health. The 
 mistress of the house, who had been very attentive and kind, asked me to 
 breakfast. This humble, but generous meal, consisted of a bowl of milk, 
 for the guest, with excellent bread. The fare of the family was this same 
 bread, garlic, and salt I had observed, that this was the usual morning s 
 diet, for I lay in the stove-room, where the family ate and slept. This 
 worthy family was composed of seven persons ; the parents in the prime of 
 life, and five charming ruddy children, all neatly and warmly clothed in 
 woolen, apparently of their own manufactory. You might suppose, from 
 the manner of their living, that these persons were poor. No such thing. 
 They were in good circumstances. Their house, barn, stabling, etc., were 
 warm and comfortable, and their diet such as is universal among the French 
 peasantry of Canada. Proffering my two dollars to this honest man, he re 
 jected them with something like disdain in his countenance, intimating to 
 me that he had merely obeyed the dictates of religion and humanity. Tears 
 filled my eyes when I took my leave of these amiable people. But they 
 had not even yet done enough for me. The father insisted on attending me 
 to the ferry some miles off, where the river takes a turn almost due north, 
 to meet the St. Lawrence. Here my worthy host procured me a passage 
 scot free, observing to me my money might be required before the army 
 could be overtaken. Landing on the north bank of the river, the way could 
 not be mistaken, the track of the army had strongly marked the rout. To 
 me it was a most gloomy and solitary march. Not a soul was to be seen in 
 the course of ten miles. Here and there was a farm-house, but the inhab 
 itants were either closely housed or absent from their homes. Afternoon, 
 arriving at the quarters of our company, my gun and accoutrements were 
 reclaimed with ardor. 
 
 Having arrived at Point Livi we crossed the St. Lawrence in boats on the 
 night of the 13th of November and landed at Wolf s Cove. 
 
 November 14th. The troops easily ascended the hill, by a good road cut 
 in it slantingly. This was not the case in 1759, when the immortal Wolf 
 mounted here it was then a steep declivity, enfiladed by a host of savages. 
 
 November 15th. Arriving on the brow of the precipice, we found our 
 selves on the Plains of Abraham, so deservedly famous in story. The morn 
 ing was cold, and we were thinly clad. While an adventurous party dis 
 patched by Arnold, under the command of one of Morgan s lieutenants, 
 were examining the walls of the city, we were pacing the plains to and fro, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 67 
 
 in silence, to keep ourselves warm. The winter had set in a cold north 
 wester blew with uncommon keenness. By the time the reconnoitering party 
 returned, daylight was not very distant. The party found everything toward 
 the city in a state of perfect quietness. This report was delivered, in my 
 presence, to Morgan, however the contrary may have been represented 
 since. Not even the cry of " All s well" was uttered, was a part of their 
 report, yet we heard that cry from the walls, even where we were ; but this 
 in a direct line, was nearer to us than the voices opposite to the party. This 
 was the happy moment, but with our small and disjointed force, what co;ild 
 be done ? There was scarcely more than three hundred and fifty men, will 
 ing and determined to be sure, but too few to assail a fortress such as Que 
 bec is. If that had been known this night, which was evidenced in a few 
 days by the fugitives from the city, Arnold would most assuredly have haz 
 arded an attack. St. John s Gate, which opens on Abraham s Plains, and is 
 a most important station, was unbarred, nay, unclosed : nothing but a single 
 cannon under the care of a drowsy watch, was there as a defense ; we were 
 not a mile distant, and might have entered unknown, and even unseen. 
 These are uncertain opinions, resting on the vague reports of the moment, 
 which might have been true, or untrue. My memory is, however, fresh in 
 the recollection of the heart-burnings this failure caused among us. Prov 
 idence, for wise purposes, would have it otherwise. Near daylight, requir 
 ing rest and refreshment, the troops moved a mile, to a farm-house of Lieu 
 tenant Governor Caldwell s. This was a great pile of wooden buildings, 
 with numerous outhouses, which testified the agricultural spirit and taste of 
 the owner. He, good soul, was then snug in Quebec. 
 
 The next day, Arnold had the boldness, you might say the audacity, or 
 still more correctly, the folly, to draw us up in a line, in front and opposite 
 to the wall of the city. The parapet was lined by hundreds of gaping citi 
 zens and soldiers, whom our guns could not harm, because of the distance^ 
 They gave us a huzza ! We returned it, and remained a considerable tieae 
 huzzaing, and spending our powder against the walls, for we harmed HO 
 one. In some minutes a thirty-six pounder was let loose upon us ; but so 
 ill was the gun pointed, that the ball fell short, or passed high over our 
 heads. Another, and another succeeded to these salutes, we gave them 
 all we could, another and another huzza. It must be confessed,, that this 
 ridiculous affair gave me a contemptible opinion of Arnold. This- notion 
 was by no means singular. Morgan, Febiger and other officers, who had 
 seen service, did not hesitate to speak of it in that point of view. However, 
 Arnold had a vain desire to gratify, of which we were then ignorant. He 
 was well known at Quebec. Formerly, he had traded from thi& port to the 
 West Indies, most particularly in the article of horses. Hence, he was de 
 spised by the principal people. The epithet "horse jockey/ was freely and 
 universally bestowed upon him, by the British. Having now obtained 
 power, he became anxious to display it in the faces of those who had for 
 merly despised and contemned him. The venerable Sir Guy Carleton, an 
 Irishman of a most amiable and mild character, Colonel Maclean, a Scotch 
 man, old in warfare, would not, in any shape, communicate- with him. If 
 Montgomery had originally been our commander, matters might have 
 more civilly conducted. 
 5 
 
68 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Many of our wisest men, within the colonies, wrote and spoke of this bra 
 vading, as a matter of moment, and with much applause. Even some ot 
 our historians (Gordon) have given it celebrity. But a more silly and boast 
 ful British historian (Arnwell) says there was a dreadful cannonade, by 
 which many of the rebels were destroyed. The truth is, that this day rot 
 a drop of blood was shed, but that of Governor Caldwell s homed cattle, 
 hogs and poultry, which run plentifully. After this victory in huzzaing, 
 which was boys play, and suited me to a hair, we returned to quarters to 
 partake of the good things of this world. 
 
 The next day (November 15th), a scene of a different kind opened, which 
 let us into the true character of Arnold. In the wilderness, the men had 
 been stinted to a pint of flour by the day. This scanty allowance of flour 
 had been continued since we had come into this plentiful country. Morgan, 
 Hendricks and Smith, waited upon the commander-in-chief, to represent the 
 grievance and obtain redress. Altercation and warm language took place. 
 Smith, with his usual loquacity, told us, that Morgan seemed, at one time, 
 upon the point of striking Arnold. We fared the better for this interview. 
 
 On the following day (November 16th), the rifle-companies removed fur 
 ther from the city. About half a mile from Caldwell s house, our company 
 obtained excellent quarters, in the house of a French gentleman, who seemed 
 wealthy. He was pleasing in his manners, but the rudeness our ungovern 
 able men exhibited, created in him an apparent disgust toward us. Here we 
 remained near a week. 
 
 November 18th. Not being fully in the secret, it does not become me to 
 recount the causes of our retreat, to Point Aux Tremble, which is at the 
 distance of twenty or more miles from Quebec. The route thither, though 
 in a severe winter, was interesting. The woods were leafless, except as to 
 those trees of the fir-kind ; but numerous neat and handsomely situated 
 farm-houses, and many beautiful landscapes were presented, and enlivened 
 ;Our march along this majestic stream. 
 
 Ascending the river at a distance of ten or fifteen miles, we observed the 
 rapid passage, down stream, of a boat, and soon afterward of a ship, one or 
 other of which contained the person of Sir Guy Carleton. That it was the 
 governor of the province, flying from Montgomery, who had by this time 
 captured Montreal, we were informed by a special kind of messenger, which 
 was no other than the report of the cannon, by way of feu-de-joie, upon 
 his arrival at the capital. Point Aux Tremble, at this time, had assumed 
 the appearance of a straggling village. There was a spacious chapel, where 
 the ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion were performed, with a pomp 
 not seen in our churches, but by a fervency and zeal apparently very pious, 
 which became a severe and additional stroke at early prejudices. Quarters 
 were obtained in the village and farm-houses, dispersed over a space of some 
 miles, up and down the river. We enjoyed as much comfort as tight houses, 
 warm fires, and our scantiness of -clothing would admit. Provisions were in 
 plenty, and particularly beef, which, though small in bulk, was of an excel- 
 lent flavor. Being in a few days, as it were, domesticated in a respectable 
 farmer s house, we now had leisure to observe the economy of the family. 
 Every crevice through which cold air could penetrate, was carefully pasted 
 with strips of paper of every color. To permit the cold air to intrude is not 
 
OF AMERICANS. 69 
 
 the only evil which results ; but the smallest interstice with the air, also 
 admits an almost impalpable snow, which is very inconvenient, particularly 
 at night, when the winds blow most sharply. A stove of iron stood a small 
 space from the wall of the kitchen chimney, but in such a way that it might 
 be encompassed by the family or the guests. This stove was kept contin 
 ually hot, both by day and by night. Over the stove there is a rack so con 
 structed as to serve for the drying of wet clothes, moccasins, etc. When 
 these people slaughter their beasts for winter use, they cut up the meat into 
 small pieces, such as a half pound, two pounds, etc., according to the number 
 of the family. In the evening before bedtime, the females of the house, 
 prepare the dinner of the following day. It may be particularly described, 
 as it was done in our view for a number of days together, and during the 
 time was never varied. This was the manner : A piece of pork or beef, or 
 a portion of each kind, together with a sufficiency of cabbage, potatoes and 
 turnips, seasoned with salt, and an adequate quantity of water, were put 
 into a neat tin kettle with a close lid. The kettle, thus replenished, was 
 placed on the stove in the room where we all slept, and there it simmered 
 till the time of rising, when it was taken to a small fire in the kitchen, where 
 F. stewing continued till near noon, when they dined. The contents were 
 teemed into a large bason. Each person had a plate no knife was used, ex 
 cept one to cut the bread, but a five or six pronged fork answered the pur 
 poses of a spoon. The meat required no cutting, as it was reduced to a 
 mucilage, or at least to shreds. This, you may say, is trifling information, 
 and unworthy of your notice ; according to my mind, it is important to all 
 of us, to know the habits, manners, and means of existence of that class of 
 society, which, in all nations, composes the bulk and strength of the body 
 politic. Our dinner followed in a few hours. The manner of our cookery 
 excited astonishment in our hosts. As much beef was consumed at a single 
 meal, as would have served this family for a week. Remember, however, 
 that the mess consisted of persons who were entitled to double and treble 
 rations. Two rosy-cheeked daughters of the house, soon contrived the means 
 and obtained the surplus. This circumstance, most probably, made us agree 
 able to the family, for we had nothing else to bestow. The snow had now 
 fallen in abundance, and enlivened the country. Sleighs and sleds were 
 passing in every direction. In December, January, and February, the snow 
 lays in the country from three to five feet deep over the surface. 
 
 On the first of December, General Montgomery, who was anxiously ex 
 pected, arrived with the main body of the army who had come on by the 
 way of Charnplaine. Arnold s corps, was paraded in front of the chapel. It 
 was lowering and cold, but the appearance of the general here, gave us 
 warmth and animation. He was well limbed, tall and handsome, though his 
 face was much pock-marked. His air and manner, designated the real sol 
 dier. He made us a short, but energetic and elegant speech, the burden of 
 which was an applause of our spirit in passing the wilderness ; a hope, our 
 perseverance in that spirit would continue, and a promise of warm clothing; 
 the latter was a most comfortable assurance. A few huzzas from our freez 
 ing bodies were returned to the address of the gallant hero. Now new lifa 
 was infused into the whole of the corps. 
 
 The next day (December 2d), we retraced the route from Quebec. A snow 
 
70 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 had fallen during the night, and continued falling. To march on this snow 
 was a most fatiguing business. The evening brought up the riflemen at an 
 extensive house, in the parish of St. Foix, about three miles from Quebec. 
 
 The next day (December 3d), Morgan not finding himself comfortable, 
 moved a short space nearer to the city. Here, in low and pretty country 
 houses, he and his men, were neatly accommodated. It seemed to me, that 
 the Canadians, in the vicinage of Quebec, lived as comfortable, in general, 
 as the generality of the Pennsylvanians did, at that time, in the county ot 
 Lancaster. 
 
 December 12th. We remained about ten days at these quarters. The 
 tours of duty, to Arnold s party, were peculiarly severe. The officers and 
 men, still wore nothing else, than the remains of the summer clothing, which 
 being on their back, had escaped destruction in the disasters of the wilder 
 ness. The snow lay three feet deep over the face of the whole country, 
 and there was an addition to it almost daily. Many impediments occurred, 
 to delay the transportation of the clothing which General Montgomery 
 had procured for us at Montreal. Our miserable state, contrary to our 
 principles, excited an illicit desire, to be appareled more comfortably. This 
 desire would probably have lain dormant, but for a scoundrel Canadian, 
 who in all likelihood, was an enemy of Lieutenant Governor Cromie s. 
 One morning having returned from a cold night s duty, near palace gate, 
 the fellow addressed Simpson, who was the only officer in quarters, and 
 communicated the information : " That about two miles up the St. Law 
 rence, lay a country seat of Governor Cromie s, stocked with many things we 
 wanted, and he would be our guide." Cariole s were immediately pro 
 cured. The house, a neat box, was romantically situated on the steep bank 
 of the river, not very distant from a chapel. Though in the midst of win 
 ter, the spot displayed the elegant taste and abundant wealth of the owner. 
 It must be a most delightful summer residence, in the months of July and 
 August, when the heat of this northern climate, seems greater to sensation, 
 than that of our country, in the same season. The house was closed ; 
 knocking, the hall-door was opened to us by an Irishwoman, who, of the 
 fair sex, was the largest and most brawny, that ever came under my notice. 
 She was the stewardess of the house. Our questions were answered with an 
 apparent affability and frankness. She introduced us into the kitchen, a 
 large apartment, well filled with those articles which good-livers think ne 
 cessary, to the happy enjoyment of life. Here we observed, five or six 
 Canadian servants, huddled into a corner of the kitchen, trembling with fear. 
 Our prying eyes, soon discovered a trap-door leading into the cellar. In the 
 country houses of Canada, because of the frigidity of the climate, the cellars 
 are usually under a warm room, and are principally intended, for the preser 
 vation of vegetables. The cavity in this instance, abounded with a great 
 variety of eatables, of which we were not in the immediate want. The 
 men entered it firkin after firkin of butter ; lard, tallow, beef, pork, fresh 
 and salt all became a prey. While the men were rummaging below, the 
 lieutenant descended to cause more dispatch. My duty was to retrain at 
 the end of the trap-door, with my back to the wall, and rifle cocked as a 
 sentry, keeping a strict eye on the servants. My good Irishwoman fre 
 quently beckoned to me to descend : her drift was to catch us all in the trap. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 71 
 
 Luckily she was comprehended. The cellar and kitchen being thoroughly 
 gutted, and the spoil borne to the carriages, the party dispersed into tho 
 other apartments. Here was elegancy. The walls and partitions, were 
 beautifully papered and decorated, with large engravings, maps, etc., of the 
 mcst celebrated artists. 
 
 Our attention was much more attracted by the costly feather beds, coun 
 terpanes, and charming rose-blankets, which the house afforded. Of these 
 there was good store, and we left not a joint behind us. The nooks and 
 crevices in the carioles, were filled with smaller articles ; several dozens of 
 admirably finished case-knives and forks even a set of dessert knives ob 
 tained the notice of our cupidity. Articles of lesser moment, not a thou 
 sandth part so useful, did not escape the all-grasping hands of the soldiery. 
 In a back apartment, there stood a mahogany couch, or settee in a highly 
 finished style. The woodwork of the couch was raised on all sides by cush 
 ioning, and lastly, covered by a rich figured silk. This to us, was lumber : 
 besides our carioles were full. However, we grabbed the mattress and pal 
 lets, all equally elegant as the couch : Having, as we thought, divested his 
 excellency of all the articles of prime necessity, we departed, ostensibly and 
 even audibly accompanied by the pioui blessings of the stewardess for cur 
 moderation. No doubt she had her mental reservations ; on such business 
 as this, we regarded neither. Near the chapel, we met a party of Morgan s 
 men coming to do that, which we had already done. The officer appeared 
 chagrined when he saw the extent of our plunder. He went on, and finally 
 ransacked the house, and yet a little more, the stables. The joy of our men, 
 among whom the plunder was distributed in nearly equal portions, was ex 
 travagant. Now an operation of the human mind, which often takes place 
 in society, and is every day discernible by persons of observation, became 
 clearly obvious. " Let a man once with impunity, desert the strict rule of 
 right, every subsequent aggression not only increases in atrocity, but is done 
 without qualm of conscience." Though our company was composed princi 
 pally of freeholders, or the sons of such, bred at home under the strictures 
 of religion and morality, yet when the reins of decorum were loosed, and 
 the honorable feeling weakened, it became impossible to administer restraint. 
 The person of a tory, or his property, became fair game, and this at the de 
 nunciation of some base domestic villain. 
 
 With one more disreputable exploit, marauding ceased. A returning senso 
 of decency and order, emanating from ourselves, produced a species of con 
 trition. It is a solemn truth, that we plundered none, but those who were 
 notoriously tories, and then within the walls of Quebee. The clergy, the 
 nobles, and the peasantry, were respected and protected, especially the latter, 
 with whom, to use a trite expression, we fraternized. 
 
 December 15th. In a short time, the rifle companies moved and occupied 
 good quarters on the low grounds, near St. Charles River, and about two 
 miles from Quebec. Our clothing was still of the flimsy kind, before noted 
 but our hearts were light, even to merriment. 
 
 During all this time, our daily duty was laborious in various ways, and 
 every other night, we mounted guard at St. Roque. A guard-house, ere this 
 had been established at this place, in a very large stone-house, which, though 
 strong, being exposed to the enemy s fire, was soon battered about our ears, 
 
72 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the distance scarcely more than three hundred yards. That position waa 
 changed for one more secure. A house, which had been a tavern, was 
 adopted in its stead. This house was peculiarly situated. It was compara 
 tively small with the former in its dimensions, but the walls were strong, 
 and the ceilings bomb-proof. It stood under the hill, so as to be out of tho 
 range of the shot, from the ramparts contiguous to Palace Gate, which was 
 elevated far above us. Simpson would say, Jack, let us have a shot at those 
 fellows. Even at noon-day, we would creep along close to the houses, which 
 ranged under the hill, but close in with it, till we came within forty yard 
 of Palace Gate. Here was a smith-shop, formed of logs, through the crev 
 ices, of which, we would fire, at an angle of 70, at the sentries above us. 
 Many of them were killed, and it was said, several officers. This was dis 
 honorable war, though authorized by the practices of those times. 
 
 It is but fair and honest to relate to you an anecdote concerning myself, 
 which will convey to your minds some notion of that affection of the head 
 or heart which the military call a panic-terror. Being one of the guard and 
 having been relieved as a sentry about twelve or one o clock at night, upon 
 returning to the guard-house, in a dozing state I cast myself on a bench, 
 next the back wall young, my sleeps were deep and heavy ; my youth 
 obtained this grace from Simpson, the officer who commanded ; about three 
 o clock, I was roused by a horrible noise. The enemy, in casting their 
 shells, usually began in the evening, and threw but a few ; toward morning, 
 they became more alert. Our station being out of sight, it was so managed, 
 as to throw the shells on the side of the hill, directly back of us, so that they 
 would trundle down against the wall of the guard-house. This had fre 
 quently occurred before, but was not minded. A thirteen inch shell, thus 
 thrown, came immediately opposite the place where my head lay ; to be 
 sure, the three feet wall was between us. The bursting report was tremen 
 dous, but it was heard in a profound sleep. Starting instantly, though un 
 conscious of the cause, I run probably fifty yards, through untrod snow, 
 three feet deep, to a coal-house, a place quite unknown to me before : It 
 was ten or fifteen minutes before the extreme cold, restored that kind of 
 sensibility, which enabled me to know my real situation. Knowing nothing 
 of the cause, the probable effect, nor anything of the consequences, which 
 might follow from this involuntary exertion, it seemed to me to be a species 
 of the panic, which has been known to affect whole armies. The circum 
 stance here related, caused a laugh against me ; but it was soon discovered, 
 that those of the soldiery, though wide awake, were as much panic stricken 
 as myself. The laugh rebounded upon them. During this period, we had 
 many bitter cold nights. 
 
 On the night of the 20th, or 21st of December, a snow-storm, driving 
 fiercely from the north-east, induced the noble Montgomery, to order an at 
 tack on the fortress. Our force altogether, <Jid not amount to more than 
 eleven hundred men, and many of these, by contrivances of their own, were 
 in the hospital, which, by this time, was transferred to the nunnery. The 
 storm abated the moon shone, and we retired to repose, truly unwillingly. 
 We had caught our commander s spirit, who was anxious, after the capture 
 of Chamblee, St. Johns, and Montreal, to add Quebec, as a prime trophy to 
 the laurels already won. Captain Smith, the head of our mess, as captain, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 73 
 
 had been invited to General Montgomery s council of officers (none under 
 that grade being called), like most of uninstructed men, he was talkative, 
 and what is much worse in military affairs, very communicative. I believe 
 blushing followed the intelligence he gave me : the idea of impropriety of 
 conduct in him, deeply impressed my mind. The whole plan of the attack 
 on the twc following days, was known to the meanest man in the army. 
 How it was disclosed, is uncertain, unless by the fatuity of the captains. One 
 Singleton, a sergeant in the troops which accompanied Montgomery, deserted 
 from the guard at the suburbs of St. John s, and disclosed to our foes the 
 purport of our schemes ; his desertion caused much anxiety. The general 
 prudently gave out that it was by command, he would return soon with in 
 telligence. This was believed generally. The latter information came to 
 my knowledge some months afterward, when a prisoner. The relation of 
 Smith to me, is perfect on my memory. Youth seldom forget their juvenile 
 impressions. It was this : " That we, of Arnold s corps, accompanied by 
 Captain Lang s York artillerists, should assail the lower town, on the side of 
 St. Roque : General Montgomery was to attack the lower town by the way 
 of Cape Diamond, which is on the margin of the St. Lawrence. A false 
 attack was to be made eastwardly of St. Johns Gate. When Montgomery 
 and Arnold conjoined in the lower town, then the priests, the women and 
 the children, were to be gathered and intermingled with the troops, and an 
 assault be made on the upper town." Visionary as this mode of attack was, 
 from what ensued, it is sincerely my belief that Smith was correct in his 
 information, as to the plan suggested by the general. In those turbulent 
 times, men of gallantry, such as Montgomery, were imperiously necessitated, 
 to keep up their own fame and the spirits of the people, to propose and to 
 hazard measures, even to the confines of imprudence. There was another 
 circumstance which induced our brave and worthy general to adopt active 
 and dangerous means of conquest. Many of the New England troops had 
 been engaged on very short enlistments, some of which were to expire on 
 the first of January, 1776. The patriotism of the summer of seventy-five, 
 seemed almost extinguished in the winter of seventy-six. The patriotic 
 officers made every exertion to induce enlistments, but to no purpose. We, 
 of the "rifle corps," readily assented to remain with the general, though he 
 should be deserted by the eastern men, yet this example had no manner of 
 influence on the generality. The majority were either farmers or sailors, and 
 eome had wives and children at home. These, and other reasons, perhaps 
 the austerity of the winter, and the harshness of the service, caused an ob 
 stinacy of mind, which would not submit to patriotic representation. Be 
 sides the smallpox, which had been introduced into our cantonments by the 
 indecorous yet fascinating arts of the enemy, had already begun its ravages. 
 This temper of the men was well known to the general. 
 
 It was not until the nigjit of the thirty-first of December, one thousand 
 even hundred and seventy-five, that such kind of weather ensued as was 
 considered favorable for the assault. The forepart of the night was admi 
 rably enlightened by a luminous moon. Many of us, officers as well as 
 privates, had dispersed in various directions among the farm and tippling 
 houses of the vicinity. We well knew the signal for rallying. This was 
 no other than a "snowstorm." About twelve o clock p. M. f the heaven was 
 
74 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 overcast. We repaired to quarters. By two o clock we were accoutred and 
 began our march. The storm was outrageous, and the cold wind extremely 
 biting. In this northern country the snow is blown horizontally into the 
 faces of travelers on most occasions this was our case. 
 
 January 1st. (1776). When we came to Craig s house, near Palace Gate, 
 a horrible roar of cannon took place, and a ringing of all the bells of the 
 city, which are very numerous, and of all sizes. Arnold, heading the for 
 lorn hope, advanced, perhaps, one hundred yards, before the main body. 
 After these, followed Lamb s artillerists. Morgan s company, led in the 
 secondary part of the column of infantry. Smith s followed, headed by 
 Steele, the captain, from particular causes, being absent. Hendrick s com 
 pany succeeded, and the eastern men, so far as known to me, followed in 
 due order. The snow was deeper than in the fields, because of the nature 
 of the ground. The path made by Arnold, Lamb, and Morgan, was almost 
 imperceptible, because of the falling snow : covering the locks of our guns, 
 with the lappets of our coats, holding down our heads (for it was impossible 
 to bear up our faces, against the imperious storm of wind and snow), we 
 ran along the foot of the hill in single file. Along the first of our run, from 
 Palace Gate, for several hundred paces, there stood a range of insulated 
 buildings, which seemed to be store-houses ; we passed these quickly in sin 
 gle file, pretty wide apart. The interstices were from thirty to fifty yards. 
 In these intervals, we received a tremendous fire of musketry from the 
 ramparts above us. Here we lost some brave men, when powerless to return 
 the salutes we received, as the enemy was covered by his impregnable de 
 fenses. They were even sightless to us, we could see nothing but the blaze 
 from the muzzles of their muskets. 
 
 We proceeded rapidly, exposed to a long line of fire from the garrison, for 
 now we were unprotected by any buildings. The fire had slackened in a 
 small degree. The enemy had been partly called off to resist Montgomery 
 and strengthen the party opposed to Arnold in our front. Now we saw 
 Colonel Arnold returning, wounded in the leg, and supported by two gentle 
 men, a parson Spring was one, and in my belief, a Mr. Ogden, the other. 
 Arnold called to the troops, in a cheering voice, as we passed, urging us for 
 ward, yet it was observable among the soldiery, with whom it was my mis 
 fortune to be now placed, that the colonel s retiring damped their spirits. 
 A cant term "we are sold," was repeatedly heard in many parts throughout 
 the line. Thus proceeding enfiladed by an animated but lessened fire, we 
 came to the first barrier, where Arnold had been wounded in the onset. 
 This contest had lasted but a few minutes, and was somewhat severe, but 
 the energy of our men prevailed. The embrasures were entered when the 
 enemy were discharging their guns. The guard, consisting of thirty persons, 
 were either taken or fled, leaving their arms behind them. At this time, it 
 was discovered that our guns were useless, because of the dampness. The 
 snow, which lodged in our fleecy coats, was melted by the warmth of our 
 bodies. Thence came that disaster. Many of the party, knowing the cir 
 cumstance, threw aside their own, and seized the British arms. These were 
 not only elegant, but were such, as befitted the hand of a real soldier. It 
 was said, that ten thousand stand of such arms, had been received from 
 England, in the previous summer for arming the Canadian militia. Those 
 
OF AMEKICANS. 75 
 
 
 
 people were loath to bear them in opposition to our rights. From the first 
 barrier to the second, there was a circular course along the sides of houses, 
 and partly through a street, probably of three hundred yards or more. This 
 second barrier was erected across and near the mouth of a narrow street, 
 adjacent to the foot of the hill, which opened into a larger street, leading 
 into the main body of the lower town. Here it was, that the most serious 
 contention took place : this became the bone of strife. The admirable 
 Montgomery, Toy this time (though it was unknown to us), was no more; 
 yet, we expected momentarily to join him. The firing on that side of tha 
 fortress ceased, his division fell under the command of a Colonel Campbell, 
 of the New York line, a worthless chief, who retreated, without making an 
 effort, in pursuance of the general s original plans. The inevitable conse 
 quence was, that the whole of the forces on that side of the city, and those 
 who were opposed to the dastardly persons employed to make the false 
 attacks, embodied and came down to oppose our division. Here was sharp- 
 shooting. We were on the disadvantageous side of the barrier, for such a 
 purpose. Confined in a narrow street, hardly more than twenty feet wide, 
 and on the lower ground, scarcely a ball, well aimed or otherwise, but must 
 take effect upon us. Morgan, Hendricks, Steele, Humphreys, and a crowd 
 of every class of the army, had gathered into the narrow pass, attempting 
 to surmount the barrier, which was about twelve or more feet high, and so 
 strongly constructed that nothing but artillery could effectuate its destruc 
 tion, There was a construction, fifteen or twenty yards within the barrier, 
 upon a rising ground, the cannon of which much overtopped the height of 
 the barrier, hence we were assailed by grape shot in abundance. This erec 
 tion we called the platform. Again, within the barrier, and close to it, were 
 two ranges of musketeers, armed with musket and bayonet, ready to receive 
 those who might venture the dangerous leap. Add to all this, that the 
 enemy occupied the upper chambers of the houses, in the interior of the 
 barrier, on both sides of the street, from the windows of which we became 
 fair marks. The enemy, having the advantage of the ground in front, a 
 vast superiority of numbers, dry and better arms, gave them an irresistible 
 power, in so narrow space. Humphreys upon a mound, which was speedily 
 erected, attended by many brave men, attempted to scale the barrier, but 
 was compelled to retreat, by the formidable phalanx of bayonets within, 
 and the weight of fire, from the platform and the buildings. Morgan, brave 
 to temerity, stormed and raged ; Hendricks, Steele, Nichols, Humphreys, 
 equally brave, were sedate, though under a tremendous fire. The platform, 
 which was within our view, was evacuated by the accuracy of our fire, and 
 few persons dared venture there again. Now it was, that the necessity of 
 the occupancy of the houses, on our side of the barrier, became apparent. 
 Orders were given by Morgan, to that effect. We entered this was near 
 daylight. The houses were a shelter from which we could fire with much 
 accuracy. Yet, even here, some valuable lives were lost. Hendricks, when 
 aiming his rifle at some prominent person, died by a straggling ball through 
 his heart. He staggered a few feet backwards, and fell upon a bed, where 
 he instantly expired. He was an ornament of our little society. The ami 
 able Humphreys died by a like kind of wound, but it was in the street, be 
 fore we entered the buildings. Many other brave men fell at this place ; 
 
76 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 among these were Lieutenant Cooper, of Connecticut, and perhaps fifty or 
 sixty non-commissioned officers, and privates. The wounded, were numer 
 ous, and many of them dangerously so. Captain Lamb, of the York artil 
 lerists, had nearly one half of his face carried away, by a grape or cannistei 
 shot. My friend Steele, lost three of his .fingers, as he was presenting his 
 gun to fire ; Captain Hubbard and Lieutenant Fisdle, were also among the 
 wounded. 
 
 When we reflect upon the whole of the dangers at this barricade, and the 
 formidable force that came to "annoy us, it is a matter of surprise, that so 
 many should escape death and wounding, as did. All hope of success 
 having vanished, a retreat was contemplated, but hesitation, uncertainty, 
 and a lassitude of mind, which generally takes place, in the affairs of men, 
 when we fail in a project upon which we have attached much expectation, 
 now followed. That moment was foolishly lost, when such a movement 
 might have been made with tolerable success. Captain Laws, at the head 
 of two hundred men, issuing from Palace Gate, most fairly and handsomely 
 cooped us up. 
 
 Of the enemy, many were killed and many more wounded, comparatively, 
 than on our side, taking into view the disadvantages we labored under ; and 
 that but two occasions happened when we could return their fire, that is, at 
 the first and second barriers. Perhaps there never was a body of men asso 
 ciated, who better understood the use and manner of employing a rifle, than 
 our corps : which by this time of the attack, had their guns in good order. 
 When we took possession of the houses, we had a greater range. Our op 
 portunities to kill, were enlarged. Within one hundred yards, every man 
 must die. 
 
 To the great honor of General Carleton, all the wounded, whether friends 
 or enemies, were treated with like attention and humanity. The reason why 
 the wounded of our side bore so small a proportion to the dead, seems to be 
 this : In the long course we ran from Palace Gate to the first barrier, we lost 
 many men who were killed outright, but many more died, who were merely 
 wounded, yet in such a manner, as in a milder region, to make the case a 
 curable one. A blow from a ball so large as that of a musket, staggers a 
 man, whether the wound be in the arm, leg, or elsewhere ; if in staggering, 
 he falls, he comes down into a deep bed of snow, from which a hale man 
 finds it very difficult to extricate himself. Five or ten minutes struggling 
 in such a bed, benumbs the strongest man, as frequent experience has taught 
 me ; if the party be wounded, though but slightly, twenty or thirty minutes 
 will kill him, not because of the severity of the wound, but by the intensity 
 of the frost. 
 
 About nino o clock A. M., it was apparent to all of us, that we must sur 
 render. It was done. The commissioned officers, and some of the cadets, 
 were conducted to the seminary, a respectable building. It became my lot, 
 in one way or other, to be lost in the crowd, and to be associated with the 
 non-cc^missioned officers, in the company of some of whom, ardent and 
 perilous duties had been undergone. These men are by no means to be less 
 ened in character, by contrasting them with the levies made in Europe, 01 
 those made since that time in our own country. Many of our sergeants, 
 and even of our privates, were, with good educations, substantial freeholders 
 
OF AMERICANS. 77 
 
 in our own country. Many of these men, in the progress of the bloody 
 scenes which ensued, became props of our glorious cause, in defense of our 
 sacred liberties. Among those was Thomas Boyd, so often spoken of in the 
 wilderness for his good humor, his activity and the intensity of his suffer 
 ings ; struggled gloriously for his life as a captain, and died a dreadful death 
 by the hands of the savages in 1779, in the expedition conducted by Gen 
 eral Sullivan against the Six Nation Indians. 
 
 When under guard, in the morning of the first of January, Colonel M - 
 Dougal, a Scotch gentleman, near noon, came to review us : his person was 
 known to me at Detroit, as an intimate of my uncle, three years before this 
 time. The colonel was naturally polite and kind-hearted. When it came 
 to my turn to be examined, as to name, place of birth, etc., besides making 
 the proper answers to his inquiries, I was emboldened to declare, that he 
 was known to me. He seemed surprised, but not displeased : a request was 
 immediately added, "that he would order me to be transferred to the quar 
 ters of the officers." " No, my dear boy," said he, " you had better remain 
 where you are ; the officers, as you are in rebellion, may be sent to England, 
 and there be tried for treason." It became my determination to take this 
 fatherly advice for it was really delivered in the parental style, and to adhere 
 to it. He brought one of his sons, whom I had formerly known, to see me 
 on the following day. About mid-day we were escorted to a ruinous mo 
 nastery of the order of St. Francis, called the Reguliers. 
 
 It was now that we fully learnt the destinies of our dear and revered 
 general, and his companions in death. But allow me before the detail of 
 that sad story, to give you an anecdote : The merchants of Quebec, like 
 those of England and our country, are a spirited and generous sect in socie 
 ty ; they applied to Governor Carleton, and obtained leave, to make us a 
 " new-year s-gift." This turned out to be no other than a large butt of porter, 
 attended by a proportionate quantity of bread and cheese. It was a present 
 which exhilarated our hearts, and drew from us much thankfulness. We 
 shared more than a pint per man. 
 
 General Montgomery had marched at the precise time stipulated, and had 
 arrived at his destined place of attack, nearly about the time we attacked 
 the first barrier. He was net one that would loiter. Colonel Campbell, of 
 the New York troops, a large, good-looking man, who was second in com 
 mand of that party, and was deemed a veteran, accompanied the army to 
 the assault ; his station was rearward : General Montgomery, with his aids, 
 were at the point of the column. 
 
 It is impossible to present in words an accurate idea of the geographical 
 situation of Quebec. I can only give you a few facts explanatory of General 
 Montgomery s death and the reasons of our failure. 
 
 From Wolf s Cove there is a good beach, down to, and around " Cape Dia 
 mond." The bulwarks of the city, came to the edge of the hill, above that 
 place. Thence down the side of the precipice, slantingly to the brink of 
 the river, there was a stockade of strong posts, fifteen or twenty feet high, 
 knit together by a stout raiHng, at bottom and top with pins. This was no 
 mean defense, and was at the distance of one hundred yards from the point 
 of the rock. Within this palisade, and at a few yards from the very point 
 itself, there was a like palisade, though it did not run so high up the hill 
 
78 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Again, within Cape Diamond, and probably at a distance of fifty yards, there 
 stood a block-house, which seemed to take up the space, between the foot 
 of the hill and the precipitous bank of the river, leaving a cart- way, or 
 passage on each side of it. A block-house, if well constructed, is an admi 
 rable method of defense, which in the process of the war, to our cost, was 
 fully experienced. The upper story, of this building had four or more port 
 holes, for cannon of a large calibre. These guns were charged with grape 
 or canister shot, and were pointed with exactness toward the avenue, at 
 Cape Diamond. The hero Montgomery came. The drowsy or drunken 
 guard, did not hear the sawing of the posts of the first palisade. Here, four 
 posts were sawed and thrown aside, so as to admit four men abreast. The 
 column entered with a manly fortitude. Montgomery, accompanied by his 
 aids, M Pherson and Cheeseman, advanced in front. Arriving at the second 
 palisade, the general, with his own hands, sawed down two of the pickets, 
 in such a manner, as to admit two men abreast. These sawed pickets were 
 close under the hill, and but a few yards from the very point of the rock, 
 out of the view and fire of the enemy, from the block-house. Until our 
 troops advanced to the point, no harm could ensue, but by stones thrown 
 from above. Even now, there had been but an imperfect discovery of the 
 advancing of an enemy, and that only by the intoxicated guard. The guard 
 fled, the general advanced a few paces. A drunken sailor returned to his 
 gun, swearing he would not forsake it while undischarged. This fact is re 
 lated from the testimony of the guard on the morning of our capture, some 
 of those sailors being our guard. Applying the match, this single discharge 
 deprived us of our excellent commander. 
 
 Examining the spot, the officer who escorted us, professing to be one of 
 those, who first came to the place, after the death of the general, showed 
 the position in which the general s body was found. It lay two paces from 
 the brink of the river, on the back, the arms extended Cheeseraan lay on 
 the left, and M Pherson on the right, in a triangular position. Two other 
 brave men lay near them. As all danger from without had vanished, the 
 government had not only permitted the mutilated palisades to remain, with 
 out renewing the inclosure, but the very sticks, sawed by the hand of our 
 commander, still lay, strewed about the spot. 
 
 Colonel Campbell, appalled by the death of the general, retreated a little 
 way from Cape Diamond, out of the reach of the cannon of the block 
 house, and pretendedly called a council of officers, who, it was said, justified 
 his receding from the attack. If rushing on, as military duty required, and 
 a brave man would have done, the block-house might have been occupied 
 by a small number, and was unassailable from without, but by cannon. 
 From the block-house to the center of the lower town, where we were, there 
 was no obstacle to impede a force so powerful, as that under Colonel Camp 
 bell. Cowardice, or a want of good will toward our cause, left us to our 
 miserable fate. A junction, though we might not conquer the fortress, would 
 enable us to make an honorable retreat, though with the loss of many valu 
 able lives. Campbell, who was ever after considered as a poltroon in grain, 
 retreated, leaving the bodies of the general, M Pherson and Cheeseman, to 
 be devoured by the dogs. 
 
 On the third day of our capture, the generous Carleton dispatched a flag 
 
OF AMERICANS. 79 
 
 to Arnold, to obtain what trifling baggage we had left at our quarters ; mine 
 was either forgotten, or miserable as it was, had been plundered ; but as good 
 luck would have it, the knapsack of one Alexander Nelson of our coirr 
 pany, who was killed when running to the first barrier, was disclaimed by 
 all of our men. Your father in consequence, laid violent hands upon the 
 spoil. It furnished Boyd and myself with a large, but coarse blue blanket, 
 called a " stroud," and a drummer s regimental coat. The blanket becamo 
 a real comfort, the coat an article of barter. It was on this day, that my 
 heart was ready to burst with grief, at viewing the funeral of our beloved 
 general. Carleton had, in our former wars with the French, been the friend 
 and fellow-soldier of Montgomery. Though political opinions, perhaps am 
 bition or interest, had thrown these worthies on different sides of the great 
 question, yet the former could not but honor the remains of his quondam 
 friend. About noon, the procession passed our quarters. It was most 
 solemn. The coffin covered with a pall, surmounted by tranverse swords 
 was borne by men. The regular troops, particularly that fine body of meni 
 the seventh regiment, with reversed arms, and scarfs on the left elbow, ac 
 companied the corpse to the grave. The funerals of the other officers, both 
 friends and enemies, were performed this day. From many of us, it drew 
 tears of affection for the defunct, and speaking for myself, tears of greeting 
 and thankfulness, toward General Carleton. The soldiery and inhabitants, 
 appeared affected by the loss of this invaluable man, though he was their 
 enemy. If such men as Washington, Carleton and Montgomery, had had 
 the entire direction of the adverse war, the contention, in the event, might 
 have happily terminated to the advantage of both sections of the nation. 
 M Pherson, Cheeseman, Hendricks, Humphreys, were all dignified by the 
 manner of burial. 
 
 On the same, or the following day, we were compelled (if we would look), 
 to a more disgusting and torturing sight. Many carioles, repeatedly one 
 after the other, passed our dwelling loaded with the dead, whether of the 
 assailants or of the garrison, to a place, emphatically, called the "dead- 
 house." Here the bodies were heaped in monstrous piles. The horror of the 
 sight, to us southern men, principally consisted in seeing our companions 
 borne to interment, uncoffined, and in the very clothes they had worn in 
 battle ; their limbs distorted in various directions, such as would ensue in 
 the moment of death. Many of our friends and acquaintances were apparent. 
 Poor Nelson lay on the top of half a dozen other bodies his arms extended 
 beyond his head, as if in the act of prayer, and one knee crooked and raised 
 seemingly, when he last gasped in the agonies of death. Curse on these 
 civil wars which extinguish the sociabilities of mankind, and annihilate the 
 strength of nations ! A flood of tears was consequent. Though Mont 
 gomery was beloved, because of his manliness of soul, heroic bravery and 
 suavity of manners ; Hendricks and Humphreys, for the same admirable 
 qualities, and especially for the endurances we underwent in conjunction, 
 which enforced many a tear : still my unhappy and lost brethren, though in 
 humble station, with whom that dreadful wild was penetrated, and from 
 whom came many attentions toward me, forced melancholy sensations. 
 From what is said relative to the " dead-house," you might conclude that 
 General Carleton was inhumane or hard-hearted. No such thing. In thia 
 
80 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 northern latitude, at this season of the year, according to my feelings (we 
 had no thermometer), the weather was so cold, as usually to be many degrees 
 below zero. A wound, if mortal, or even otherwise, casts the party wounded 
 into the snow; if death should follow, it throws the sufferer into various 
 attitudes, which are assumed in the extreme pain accompanying death. 
 The moment death takes place, the frost fixes the limbs in whatever situa 
 tion they may then happen to be, and which cannot be reduced to decent 
 order, until they are thawed. In this state, the bodies of the slain are do- 
 posited in the " dead-house," hard as ice. At this season of the year, the 
 earth is frozen from two to five feet deep, impenetrable to the best pick-axe, 
 in the hands of the stoutest man. Hence you may perceive a justification 
 of the "dead-house." It is no new observation, "that climates form the 
 manners and habitudes of the people." 
 
 About the first of January we were removed from the Eeguliers to the 
 Dauphin jail, where we were well accomodated. It was an old French build 
 ing in the Bastile style. We had scarcely got settled in our new quarters 
 before we had a plan laid to effect our escape, arid join the forces of our 
 countrymen outside. Our scheme was for one party of us to overpower the 
 sentinels and seize their depot of arms, set fire to the jail and surrounding 
 buildings to amuse or employ the enemy while we were running to St. John s 
 gate. In the meanwhile another party were to proceed at once to attack and 
 carry St. John s gate, and instantly to turn the cannon upon the city. We 
 expected in this event to maintain our position on the walls until the Amer 
 ican army should arrive from without. In that case St. John s gate was to 
 be opened. But if unfortunately beaten, we were to spring from the walls into 
 he snow and each man to trust to his own legs. It was supposed, in the 
 worst result, that the hurry and bustle created by so sudden, unforseen, and 
 daring an attack would throw the garrison into consternation and disorder to 
 such a degree as to admit of the escape of many ; sluggards might expect to 
 be massacred. In an old room of the prison into which we broke was a pile 
 of iron and iron hoops and lumber from which we secretly constructed swords 
 and spears, rough but serviceable weapons, sufficient in the hands of our dar 
 ing fellows to bring down the stoutest of the enemy. When evrything was 
 ready our well-laid plan was foiled by the indiscretion of two youths ; my 
 heart was nearly broken by the excess of surprise and burning anger to be 
 thus accidentally deprived of the gladdening hope of a speedy return to our 
 friends and country. 
 
 Our leaders were carried before the governor s council. They boldly ad 
 mitted and justified the attempt. We did not fare the worse in our provi 
 sions nor in the estimation of the enemy ; but we were, as a precaution 
 against future attempts, put in irons. Several cart loads of bilboes, foot-hob 
 bles and handcuffs were required, although there were not quite enough for 
 us all. 
 
 A new species of interesting occurrences, mingled with much fun and 
 sportive humor now occurred, which was succeeded by a series of horrible 
 anguish. The doors were scarcely closed, before we began to assay the un 
 shackling. Those who had small hands, by compressing the palms, could 
 easily divest the irons from their wrist. Of these there were many, who 
 became the assistants of their friends, whose hands were larger. Here there 
 
OF AMERICANS. 81 
 
 was a necessity for ingenuity. Knives notched as saws, were the principal 
 means. The head of the rivet, at the end of the bar, was sawed off, it was 
 lengthened and a screw formed upon it, to cap which, a false head was made, 
 either of iron or of lead, resembling as much as possible the true head. 
 Again new rivets were formed from the iron we had preserved in our secret 
 hoards, from the vigilance of the searchers. These new rivets being made 
 tf beai a strong likeness to the old, were then cut into- two parts one part 
 driven into the bolt tightly, became stationary, the other part was move- 
 able. It behooved the wearer of the manacle to look to it, that he did not 
 lose the loose part, and when the searchers came to examine, that it should 
 stand firm in the orifice. Some poor fellows, perhaps from a defect of in 
 genuity, the hardness of the iron, or the want of the requisite tools, could 
 not discharge the bilboes. This was particularly the melancholy predica 
 ment of three of Morgan s men, whose heels were too long to slip through 
 the iron which encompassed the small of the leg. It was truly painful to 
 Bee three persons attached to a monstrous bar, the weight of which was 
 above their strength to carry. It added to the poignancy of their sufferings, 
 in such frigid weather, that their colleagues at the bar, having shorter heels, 
 could withdraw the foot and perambulate the jail : where their companions 
 left them, there they must remain seated on the floor, unless some kind 
 hands assisted them to remove. 
 
 Sentries, on our part, were regularly stationed at certain windows of the 
 jail, to descry the approach of any one in the garb of an officer. .Notwith 
 standing every caution to avoid detection, yet the clang of the lock of the 
 great door was upon some occasions the only warning given us of the im 
 pending danger. The scamperings at those times were truly diverting, and 
 having always escaped discovery, gave us much amusement. The clanking 
 of the fetters followed, and was terrible ; such as the imagination forms in 
 childhood, of the condition of the souls in Tartarus ; even this was sport. 
 Happily our real situation was never known to any of the government 
 officers ; unless the good blacksmith (a worthy Irishman, of a feeling heart), 
 might be called such, and he was silent. 
 
 We remained in irons fpr several months, until one day in May, Colonel 
 M Lean visited the prison in company with Major Carleton and other officers. 
 Being near the major I overheard that admirable man say to M Lean " Col 
 onel, ambition is laudable. Cannot the irons of these men be struck off?" 
 This the colonel ordered to be done immediately, and we were soon freed 
 from the incumbrance. 
 
 Toward the middle of April, the scurvy, which we had been imbibing 
 during the winter, made its appearance in its most virulent and deadly 
 forms, preceded and accompanied by a violent diarrhea. Many of those 
 who were first affected were taken to the hospital. But the disease soon 
 became general among us. We were attended several times by Doctor May- 
 bin, the physician-general, who, by his tender attentions, and amiable man 
 ners, won our affections : he recommended a cleansing of the stomach, by 
 ipecacuanha and mild cathartics, such as rhubarb, together with due ex 
 ercise. Those who were young, active, and sensible of the doctor s salutary 
 advice, kept afoot, and practiced every kind of athletic sport we could de- 
 rise. On the contrary, those who were supinely indolent, and adhered to 
 
82 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 their blankets, became objects of real commiseration their limbs contracted, 
 as one of mine is now : large blue and even black blotches appeared on their 
 bodies and limbs the gums became black the morbid flesh fell away the 
 teeth loosened, and in several instances fell out. Our minds were now really 
 depressed. That hilarity and fun which supported our spirits in the greatest 
 misfortunes, gave way to wailings, groanings and death. I know, from dire 
 experience, that when the body suffers pain, the mind, for the time, is de 
 prived of all its exhilarations in short, almost of the power of thinking. 
 The elbow joints, the hips, the knees and ankles were most severely pained. 
 It was soon observed (though the doctor s mate attended us almost daily ? 
 and very carefully), there was little or no mitigation of our disease except 
 that the diarrhea, which was derived from another cause than that which 
 produced the scurvy, was somewhat abated ; and that our remedy lay else 
 where in the materia medica, which was beyond the grasp of the physician. 
 The diarrhea came from the nature of the water we used daily. In the 
 month of April, the snows begin to melt, not by the heat of the sun, but 
 most probably by the warmth of the earth beneath. the snows. The ground, 
 saturated with the snow-water, naturally increased the fountain-head in the 
 cellar. Literally, we drank the melted snow. The scurvy had another 
 origin. The diet salt pork, infamous biscuit damp, and close confinement, 
 in a narrow space, together with the severity of the climate, were the true 
 causes of the scurvy. 
 
 There was no doubt in any reflective mind among us, but that the virtu* 
 ous and beneficent Carleton, taking into view his perilous predicament, did 
 everything for us, which an honest man and a good Christian could. 
 
 The seventh of May arrived. Two ships came to the aid of the garrison, 
 beating through a body of ice, which perhaps was impervious to any other 
 than the intrepid sailor. This relief of men and stores, created great joy in 
 the town. Our army outside began their disorderly retreat. My friend 
 Simpson, with his party, were much misused, from a neglect of giving him 
 information of the intended flight of our army. Some few of the men 
 under his authority, straggled and were taken in the retreat They came to 
 inhabit our house. Now, for the first time, we heard an account of the oc 
 currences during the winter s blockade, which to us, though of trivial im 
 port, were immensely interesting. The sally of this day, produced to the 
 prisoners additional comfort though the troops took a severe revenge 
 upon our friends without, by burning and destroying their properties. The 
 next day, more ships and troops arrived : a pursuit took place, the effect of 
 which was of no consequence, except so far as it tended to expel the colonial 
 troops from Canada. To the prisoners, this retreat had pleasing conse 
 quences ; fresh bread, beef newly slaughtered, and a superabundance of 
 vegetables, was a salutary diet to our reduced and scorbutic bodies. 
 
 After we were relieved of our irons and had full bodily liberty a singular 
 phenomenon which attends the scurvy, discovered itself. The venerable 
 and respectable Maybin, had recommended to us exercise, not only as a mean 
 of cure, but as a preventive of the scorbutic humors operating. Four of the 
 most active would engage at a game of " fives." Having played some games 
 in continuation, if a party incautiously sat down, he was seized by the most 
 violent pains in the hips and knees, which incapaciated him from play for 
 
OF AMERICANS. S3 
 
 many hours, and from rising from the earth, where the patient had seated 
 himself. These pains taught us to keep afoot all day, and even to eat our 
 food in an erect posture. Going to bed in the evening, after a hard day s 
 play, thos3 sensations of pain upon laying down immediately attacked us. 
 The pain would continue half an hour, and often longer. My own experi 
 ence will authorize me to say two hours. In the morning, we rose free from, 
 pain, and the routine of play and fatigue ensued, but always attended by 
 the same effects, particularly to the stubborn and incautious, who would not 
 adhere to the wholesome advice of Doctor Maybin. Those who were inac 
 tive, retained those excruciating pains to the last, together with their dis 
 torted, bloated, and blackened limbs. Upon our return from Canada, in the 
 autumn of 1776, I saw five or six of my crippled compatriots, hobbling 
 through the streets of Lancaster on their way home. It cost a tear all that 
 could be given. By the month of August, the active were relieved from 
 those pains. 
 
 In the beginning of August, we were told by Captain Prentis, that the 
 Governor had concluded, to send us by sea to New York upon parole, for 
 the purpose of being exchanged ; that the transports, which had brought 
 the late reinforcements from Europe, were cleansing and preparing for the 
 voyage. Now there was exultation. On the seventh of August, we sub 
 scribed our written paroles. We embarked a day or two after in five trans 
 ports conveyed by the Pearl frigate and arrived in the harbor of New York 
 on the llth of September. 
 
 Now it was for the first time that we heard of the dilemma in which our 
 country stood. The battle of Long Island, on the twenty-seventh of August, 
 had been un3uccess fully fought by our troops, many of whom were prisoners. 
 In such hurrying times, intercourses between hostile armies in the way of 
 negotiation upon any point, are effected with difficulty. We had waited 
 patiently several weeks, to be disembarked on our own friendly shore ; yet 
 tantalized every day with reports, that to-morrow we should be put on 
 shore : some, and in a little while all, began to fear it was the intention of 
 General Howe, to detain us as prisoners in opposition to the good will of 
 Sir Guy Carleton. 
 
 Near the end of the month our gloomy fears were set at rest by the in 
 telligence that we were to embarked in shallops and landed at Elizabethtown 
 Point on the Jersey shore. Every eye sparkled at the news. On the next, 
 day, about noon, we were in the boats : adverse winds retarded us. It was 
 Morgan stood in the bow of the boat ; making a spring, not easily surpassed, 
 ten or eleven at night, before we landed; the moon shone beautifully, 
 and falling on the earth, as it were to grasp it cried " my country." We 
 that were near him, pursued his example. Now a race commenced,, which 
 in quickness, could scarcely be exceeded, and soon brought us to Elizabeth- 
 town. Here, those of us who were drowsy, spent an uneasy night. Being 
 unexpected guests, and the town full of troops, no quarters were provided 
 for us. Joy rendered beds useless ; we did not close our eyes till daylight. 
 Singing, dancing, the Indian halloo, in short, every species of vociferousness 
 was adopted by the men, and many of the most respectable sergeants, to 
 express their extreme pleasure. A stranger coming among them, would 
 have pronounced them mad, or at least intoxicated ; though since noon, 
 6 
 
84 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 neither food nor liquor had passed our lips ; thus the passions may at times 
 have an influence on the human frame, as inebriating as wine, or any other 
 liquor. The morning brought us plenty, in the form of rations of beef and 
 bread. Hunger allayed, my only desire was, to proceed homeward. Money 
 was wanting. How to obtain it in a place, where all my friends and ac 
 quaintances were alike poor and destitute, gave me great anxiety and pain. 
 Walking up the street very melancholy, unknowing what to do, I observed 
 a waggon, built in the Lancaster county fashion (which at that time, was 
 peculiar in Jersey), unloading stores for the troops, come or coming. The 
 owner was Stephen Lutz of Lancaster ; on seeing me, he grasped my hand 
 with fervor, told me every one believed me to be dead. Telling him our 
 story in a compendious manner, the good old man, without solicitation, pre 
 sented me two silver dollars, to be repaid at Lancaster. They were gladly 
 received. My heart became easy. The next day, in company with the late 
 Colonel Febiger, and the present General Nichols, and some other gentlemen, 
 we procured a light return-waggon, which gave us a cast as far as Princeton. 
 Here we had the pleasure of conversing with Dr. Witherspoon, who was the 
 first that informed us of a resolution of Congress to augment the army. It 
 gave us pleasure, as we had devoted ourselves individually to the service of 
 our country. The next day, we proceeded on foot, no carriage of any kind 
 being procurable. Night brought us up at a farm-house, somewhere near 
 Bristol. The owner was one of us, that is, a genuine whig. He requested 
 us to tarry all night, which we declined. He presented us a supper, that 
 was gratefully received. Hearing our story, he was much affected. We 
 then tried to prevail on him, to take us to Philadelphia, in his light wagon. 
 It was objected that it stood loaded with hay in the barn floor ; his sons 
 were asleep or abroad. We removed these objections, by unloading the hay, 
 while this good citizen prepared the horses. Mounting, we arrived at the 
 * Harp and Crown," about two o clock in the morning. To us, it was most 
 agreeable, that we passed through the streets of Philadelphia in the night 
 time, as our clothing was not only threadbare but shabby. Here we had 
 friends and funds. A gentleman advanced me a sum sufficient to enable 
 me to exchange my leggins and moccasins, for a pair of stockings and shoes, 
 and to bear my expenses home. A day and a half, brought me to the arms 
 of my beloved parents. 
 
 In the course of eight weeks, after my return from captivity, a slight cold, 
 caught when skating on the ice of Susquehanna, or in pursuing the wild- 
 turkey, among the Kittatinny hills, renewed that abominable disorder, the 
 scurvy and lameness, as you now observe it, was the consequence. Would 
 to God ! my extreme sufferings, had then ended a life, which since has 
 been a tissue of labor, pain, and misery. 
 
THE WANDERINGS 
 
 OF THAT 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN TRAVELER 
 
 JOHN LEDYARD, 
 
 IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE WORLD. 
 
 JOHN LEDYABD was one of those intrepid men, who, " taking their lives 
 in their hands," have, under the stimulus of a spirit of adventure, wandered 
 into unknown and barbarous lands ; by their discoveries extended the boun 
 daries of geographical science, bringing to light new races of men, and re 
 vealing to human knowledge the physical and natural resources of other 
 climes. 
 
 Whether we contemplate Ledyard in his youth, descending the Connec 
 ticut in a frail canoe, when swollen to an impetuous torrent by the melting 
 of the winter snows, or voyaging around the world among the savages of 
 New Zealand, or the gay revels of Paris ; in Bhering s Straits, or treading 
 Siberian snows ; on the shores of Bothnia, clambering Uralian crags, or ia 
 the presence of the Irkutsh Tartar; surrounded with the momentoes of 
 Egypt s glory, or amid the sands of Africa ; he presents that prompt decision 
 and manly self-reliance that will attract all to whom his story is made 
 known. 
 
 This, the most eminent of American travelers, was born at Groton, Con 
 necticut, near Fort Griswold, of revolutionary memory, in the year 1751. 
 He was the son of William Ledyard, who was master of a vessel in the 
 West India trade. His father dying while John was a lad, threw the 
 management of a large family of little ones upon his mother. She was left 
 penniless by the loss of the will .; but being an energetic woman, she strug 
 gled successfully against misfortune. William, her second son, was the 
 brave Colonel Ledyard, who was barbarously slain after the capitulation 
 of Fort Griswold, which he had so gallantly defended. John, the subject 
 of this sketch, was her eldest son. He was eventually sent to Hartford, 
 where h e first attended the grammar school, and then became a student in 
 the law office of his uncle and guardian, Thomas Seymour, and an inmate 
 in his family. 
 
 When Ledyard was in his twentieth year, Dr. Wheelock, the founder of 
 Dartmouth College, prompted by an intimacy which had existed between 
 Ledyard s grandfather and himself, prevailed upon him to enter that institu 
 tion, with a view to his becoming a missionary among the Indians. The 
 position of an Indian missionary, as the experience of Wheelock, Eliot, and 
 
 (85) 
 
86 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 others, proved, was one of hardship ; which to the adventurous disposition 
 of Ledyard, was at first alluring, and he began his studies with zeal. He 
 soon, however, became restless and discontented. Steady, persevering 
 application to books, was irksome to his nature. 
 
 He had been at Dartmouth a few months, only, when he suddenly dis 
 appeared, and no one knew whither. It was his first expedition. He plunged 
 into the wilderness, and traveled among the Six Nations on the borders of the 
 Canadas, where he spent nearly three months in wandering among the Indian 
 tribes, to gain a knowledge of their mode of life, in view of his anticipated 
 duties as a missionary among them. He reappeared at Dartmouth as un 
 expectedly as he had left, effectually cured of all missionary inclinations. 
 
 On his return he was continually devising some plan for the gratification 
 of his romantic fancy. His disposition was cheerful, and his conversation 
 and manners so winning, that he was a great favorite among his fellow 
 students. One winter s afternoon he persuaded a number of his companions 
 to go with him and spend the night in the snow on the summit of a neigh 
 boring mountain, so that those who designed becoming missionaries among 
 the Indians, might have a foretaste of the hardships in store for them. 
 Over a pathless route, through forest and through swamp, he led his little 
 band to the appointed spot. They had barely time to kindle their fire and 
 make their beds on the snow when night closed in upon them. The hours 
 passed wearily, and rarely has daylight been more heartily greeted than it 
 was by all of that little party, save Ledyard, whose appetite only grew by 
 indulgence. 
 
 Robinson Crusoe was evidently Ledyard s beau ideal of a hero. To the 
 oung mind which makes companions of its own dream, solitude is sweet, 
 as it favors their growth, and throws a gorgeous mantle over their deformi 
 ties. Our young traveler seems to have early conceived the design of 
 achieving a reputation, and in the meanwhile, until he should have made 
 the first step, and acquired the right to exact some degree of consideration 
 among mankind, the dim forest, or the lonely river, was a more agreeable 
 associate in his mind, than any of those two-legged animals with which a 
 residence at college daily brought him into contact. He therefore at once 
 resolved to put an end to so mawkish a mode of life. Selecting from the 
 majestic forest, which clothed the margin of the Connecticut River, a tree 
 large enough to form a canoe, he contrived, with the aid of some of his 
 fellow-students, to fell and convey it to the stream which runs near the 
 college. Here it was hollowed out, and fashioned in the requisite shape ; 
 and when completed, measured fifty feet in length by three in breadth. 
 His young college companions enabled him to lay in the necessary store 
 of provisions. He had a bear-skin for a covering; a Greek Testament and 
 Ovid to amuse him on the way ; and thus equipped, he pushed off into the 
 current, bade adieu to his youthful friends, turned his back upon Dartmouth, 
 and floated leisurely down the stream. Hartford, the place of his destina 
 tion, was one hundred and forty miles distant. The country, during much 
 of the way, was a wilderness ; and the river, of the navigation of which he 
 was totally ignorant, exhibited in many places dangerous falls and rapids. 
 However, youth and ignorance are generally bold. He was, besides, too 
 well pleased at escaping from the irksomeness of regular study ; and, indeed 
 
OF AMERICANS. 87 
 
 too much enamored of danger itself to have been terrified, ever, had he fully 
 understood the character of the river. 
 
 The canoe being carried along with sufficient rapidity by the force of tho 
 current, he had but little occasion for using his paddles, and filled up the 
 intervals of reflection with reading. He was thus employed when the canoe 
 approached Bellows Falls. The noise of the waters rushing with impetuous 
 velocity through their narrow channel between the rocks, roused him to a 
 sense of his danger, fortunately, in time to enable him by the strenuous use 
 cf his paddles to reach the shore. His canoe was dragged round the fall by 
 the kindness of the good people of the neighborhood, who were amazed at 
 the boldness and novelty of his enterprise, and again safely launched upon 
 the waters below. 
 
 As the sun was rising on one of those clear, bracing spring mornings so 
 common in New England, Mr. Seymour, with his family, was standing on a 
 little mound near their house looking out upon the river, when they dis 
 covered in the distance, an unknown object floating down the stream. As 
 it came nearer, they saw it was a canoe with a man wrapped closely in some 
 garment, sitting in the stern. When nearly opposite them, it made for the 
 shore, and stopped in front of their dwelling. The man then leaped on 
 land, threw aside his bear-skin, and they recognized John Ledyard, whom 
 they supposed was then at Dartmouth studying with a view to missionary 
 life. 
 
 Whether or not any efforts were made on this occasion to induce Ledyard 
 to resume his missionary studies is not known ; but if there were, it was 
 without success. His inclinations, as already observed, had now taken 
 another direction. He was desirous of becoming a regular clergyman, and 
 exerted himself, unfit as he was, to obtain a preacher s license. Inferior 
 claims have sometimes been urged with effect ; but Ledyard s were rejected ; 
 and in that reckless state of mind produced by disappointment and disgust, 
 which none but those who have been buffeted by adverse fortune can 
 properly conceive, he threw himself into the first gap which he saw open, 
 and determined to combat with the ills of life in the humble condition of a 
 common sailor. In this capacity he sailed for Gibraltar, in the ship of a 
 Captain Deshon, who had been a friend of his father. Though this gentle 
 man, we are told, regarded him more in the light of a companion than as 
 one of his crew, Ledyard seems to have conceived no very favorable idea of 
 a seafaring life from his voyage across the Atlantic, and on his landing at 
 Gibraltar, determined to avoid a repetition of the experiment by enlisting in 
 the army. By the solicitations of Captain Deshon, however, who at tho 
 same time strongly remonstrated with him on the impropriety of his con 
 duct, he was released, and returned with his liberator to New London. 
 This voyage put tc flight his romantic ideas respecting the life of a mariner ; 
 and he once more saw himself dependent on his friends, without profession 
 or prospect. 
 
 From the conversation of some of the older members of his family, he ha^ J 
 learned that in England he possessed many wealthy relations ; and the ide 
 now occurred to him, that could he but make himself known to these, h 
 should be received with open arms, and lifted up at once to a respectable 
 position in society. With him to resolve and to act were the same thing 
 
83 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 He immediately proceeded to New York, where, finding a vessel bound for 
 England, he obtained a berth, probably on condition of his working as a 
 sailor. On landing at Plymouth, he found himself penniless, and without a 
 friend, in a strange country ; but his courage, sustained by the golden hopes 
 with which he amused his imagination, was proof against misfortune. His 
 calamities, he flattered himself, were soon to have an end. He was now 
 within a few days journey of his wealthy relations ; and provided he kept, 
 as the vulgar say, body and soul together, what did it signify how he passed 
 the brief interval which separated him from his island of Barataria ? 
 Accordingly, relying upon that principle in our nature by which compassion 
 is kindled, and the hand stretched forth to relieve, as often as real honest 
 distress presents itself, he set out for London. On the way his good genius 
 brought him acquainted with an Irishman, whose pockets were as guiltless 
 of coin as his own ; and as it is a comfort not to be "alone unhappy " in this 
 "wide and universal theater," these two moneyless friends were a great con 
 solation to each other. In fact, it is often among the poor and unfortunate 
 that fellowship is most sweet. The sight of another s sufferings excites our 
 magnanimity. We scorn to sink under what we see, by another man s 
 experience, can be borne, perhaps, without repining. And thus two poor 
 adventurers, without a penny, may be of use to each other, by reciprocally 
 affording an example of fortitude and patience. Ledyard and his Hibernian 
 companion begged by turns, and in this way reached London, where they 
 separated, each to cherish his poverty in a different nook. 
 
 Hunger, which has a kind of predilection for great cities, seems to sharpen 
 the sight as well as the wits of men ; for, amid the vast throng of equipages 
 which jostle and almost hide each other in the streets of London, Ledyard s 
 eye caught the family name upon a carriage ; and he learned from the 
 coachman the profession and address of the owner, who was a rich merchant. 
 El Dorado was before him. He hastened to the house, and although the 
 master himself was absent, he found the son, who, at all events, listened to 
 his story. When he had heard him out, however, he very coolly informed 
 our sanguine traveler, that he wholly disbelieved his representations, never 
 having heard of any relations in America ; but that from the East Indies, he 
 added, they expected a member of the family, whom Ledyard greatly 
 resembled ; and that if in reality he was the person, he would .be received 
 with open arms. 
 
 This reception, so different from that which he had anticipated, yet so 
 extremely natural under the circumstances of the case, was more than Led 
 yard s philosophy, which had not yet been sufficiently disciplined by poverty, 
 could digest ; and he quitted the house of his cautious relative with avowed 
 disgust. How he now continued to subsist is not known. It appears, how 
 ever, that in spite of his distress he succeeded in making the acquaintance 
 of several respectable individuals, to whom he related his story, and who, 
 taking an interest in his fate, exerted themselves to effect a reconciliation 
 between him and his wealthy friends, but without success ; for distrust on 
 the one part, and haughtiness on the other, intervened, and shipwrecked 
 their good intentions. 
 
 Years after, when his name became famous, and all London was filled 
 with the story of his adventures, his relatives made overtures to him, and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 89 
 
 even sent him money, begging his acceptance of it, as a testimonial of 
 esteem. Though really in need, he rejected their offers with disdain. 
 " Tell your master," said he to the bearer, " that he does not belong to the 
 race of Ledyards." 
 
 While our traveler s affairs were in this precarious or rather desperate 
 state, an account of the preparations which were making for Captain Cook s 
 third voyage round the world, reached him in his obscurity. Ambition, 
 which for some time seems to have been almost stifled in his mind, by his 
 distresses, now again awoke. He longed to form a part of the glorious 
 enterprise, and to behold, at least, if he could not share in the achievements 
 of the illustrious navigator. As a preliminary step he enlisted in the marine 
 service ; and having procured an interview with Captain Cook, his energy 
 and enthusiasm so strongly recommended him, that the great discoverer 
 immediately took him into his service, and promoted him to be a corporal 
 of marines. 
 
 The expedition sailed from England on the 12th of July, 1776. It con 
 sisted of two ships, the Resolution, commanded by Captain Cook, and the 
 Discovery, by Captain Clerke. After touching at Teneriffe, and the Cape of 
 Good Hope, where they laid in a large stock of provisions, and live animals, 
 designed to be left at the various islands on which they did not exist, they 
 sailed toward the southern extremity of New Holland. In twenty-five days 
 they arrived at Kerguelen s Island, then recently discovered. It was barren, 
 and totally without inhabitants. There was, however, a scanty supply of 
 grass, and a species of wild cabbage, which they cut for their cattle. Fresh 
 water was found in abundance ; for it rained profusely, so that torrents came 
 tumbling down from the hills, and enabled them to replenish their empty 
 casks. Seals and sea-dogs covered the shore ; and vast flocks of birds 
 hovered around. Never having experienced in their lonely island the 
 danger of approaching man, they did not fly from their visitors, but suffered 
 themselves, and more particularly the penguin, to be knocked down with 
 clubs. Here they celebrated Christmas, and then proceeded to Van Dieman s 
 Land. 
 
 Within less than two months after leaving the Cape of Good Hope, they 
 cast anchor in Adventure Bay, in this island, which was then supposed to 
 form a part of New Holland. At first no inhabitants appeared, though, in 
 sailing along the coast, they had observed columns of smoke ascending be 
 tween the trees ; but in a few days the natives, men, women, and children, 
 came down to the beach, exhibiting in their persons the extreme of human 
 wretchedness. They were black, with negro features, and woolly hair, 
 besmeared with red ochre and grease, and went completely naked. Bread 
 and fish, which were given them, they threw away ; but of the flesh of birds 
 they appeared fond. Their only weapon was a rude stick about three feet 
 long, and sharpened at one end. They had no canoes, no houses, and 
 appeared to be, to a great degree, destitute of curiosity. 
 
 Having laid in a sufficient stock of wood and water, the expedition pro 
 ceeded to New Zealand, where they remained a whole month, employed in 
 laying in provisions, and in making observations on the character of the 
 country and its inhabitants. They found the New Zealanders a race differ- 
 
90 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Cannibalism of the most revolting kind flourished here in all its glory. The 
 first thought of man on beholding the face of a fellow-creature, like Fonte- 
 nelle s on seeing a flock of sheep in a meadow, was what nice eating he 
 would make ; and if they abstained from devouring their neighbors as well 
 as their enemies, it was merely from fear of reprisals. Yet, united with 
 propensities which, if found to be ineradicable, would justify their extermi 
 nation, these people are said to possess a vehement affection for their friends, 
 constancy in their attachments, and a strong disposition to love. It is very 
 possible that both their good and bad qualities may have been misrepre 
 sented. The views and feelings of savages are not easily comprehended, 
 and it is seldom that those who enjoy opportunities of observing them, 
 possess the genius to divine, from a few flitting and often constrained mani 
 festations of them, the secret temper of the soul. 
 
 During their stay at this island, one of the mariners formed an attachment 
 for a young female cannibal ; and, in order to wind himself the more 
 effectually into her affections, he secretly caused himself to be tattooed, 
 resolving, when the ship should sail, to make his escape, and relapse into 
 the savage state with his mistress. I say relapse, because from that state 
 we rose, and, whenever we can slip through the artificial scaffolding upon 
 which we have been placed by philosophy and civil government, to that 
 state we inevitably return. These two lovers, though deprived of the aids 
 which language affords in the communication of thought and sentiments, 
 contrived thoroughly to understand each other. When the time for the 
 departure of the ships arrived, the sailor, tattooed, and dressed like a savage, 
 was suffered to escape among the crowds of natives who were hurrying on 
 shore ; but when the roll was called, to ascertain whether all hands were on 
 board, his absence was discovered. A guard of marines, dispatched in 
 search of him by the command of Cook, dragged him from the arms of his 
 savage mistress, who exhibited every token of anguish and inconsolable 
 grief, and leaving her in loneliness and bitter disappointment on the beach, 
 hurried the culprit on board to take his trial for desertion. In considera 
 tion of the motive, however, the commander humanely remitted the punish 
 ment of the offense ; but it is extremely probable that his vigilance de 
 frauded a party of New Zealanders of a feast, for as soon as the ships should 
 have been out of sight, these honest people would, no doubt, have consigned 
 the sailor to their subterranean ovens. 
 
 Though desirous of making direct for Tahiti, or Otaheite, contrary wind? 
 and boisterous weather forced them out of their course, and as they now 
 began to be in want of grass and water for the cattle, as well as fresh pro 
 visions for the men, it was judged advisable to sail away for the Friendly 
 Islands. Many new islands were discovered during this voyage, upon one 
 of which, named Watteeoo, they landed. Here, to his great astonishment, 
 Omai, the native of Tahiti whom Cook had taken with him to England, 
 found three of his countrymen, who, having been overtaken by a storm at 
 sea, had been driven in their canoe to this island, a distance of more than 
 fifteen hundred miles. During the thirteen days that they had been hurried 
 before the gale, without water or provisions, most of their companions had 
 perished of hunger, or, stung to phrensy by their sufferings, had jumped into 
 the sea. The survivors wore now settled at Watteeoo, and refused hi? 
 
OF AMERICANS. 91 
 
 invitation to revisit their native country, the sight of which could only 
 renew their grief for the loss of their dearest friends. This fact suffices to 
 explain how islands extremely distant from the great hives of mankind hav 
 been peopled, and exhibit, in their population, resemblances to races from 
 which they would appear to be separated by insurmountable barriers. 
 
 From hence they sailed to Tongataboo, an island exceedingly fertile, and 
 covered with forests, where they remained twenty-six days collecting pro 
 visions. The natives, who, having ingrafted the vices of civilized nations 
 upon their own, have since exhibited themselves under a different aspect, 
 now appeared to be a simple and inoffensive race. Much of their leisure, 
 of which they appeared to have but too great plenty, was occupied in 
 curious religious ceremonies, which, as among many civilized nations, were 
 regarded something in the light of amusements. Their king, Poulaho, con 
 ducted himself with marked suavity and respect toward his strange guests. 
 Few civilized individuals, indeed, coming suddenly into contact with a new 
 race of men, could have shown more ease and self-possession than this 
 savage chief. However, he declined Cook s invitation to go on board the 
 day after their arrival ; but entertained Ledyard, whose duty it was to 
 remain on shore that night, in a kind and hospitable manner. 
 
 It was just dusk, says our traveler, when they parted, and as I had been 
 present during a part of this first interview, and was detained on shore, I 
 was glad he did not go off, and asked him to my tent ; but Poulaho chose 
 rather to have me go with him to his house, where we went and sat down 
 together without the entrance. We had been here but a few minutes before 
 one of the natives advanced through the grove to the skirts of the green, and 
 there halted. Poulaho observed him, and told me he wanted him ; upon 
 which I beckoned to the Indian, and he came to us. When he approached 
 Poulaho, he squatted down upon his hams, and put his forehead to the sole 
 of Poulaho s foot, and then received some directions from him, and went 
 away ; and returned again very soon with some baked yams and fish rolled 
 up in fresh plantain-leaves, and a large cocoanut-shell full of clean fresh 
 water, and a smaller one of salt water. These he set down, and went and 
 fetched a mess of the same kind, and set it down by me. Poulaho then 
 desired I would eat ; but preferring salt, which I had in the tent, to the sea- 
 water which they used, I called one of the guard, and had some of that 
 brought me to eat with my fish, which was really most delightfully dressed, 
 and of which I ate very heartily. 
 
 Their animal and vegetable food is dressed in the same manner here, as 
 at the southern and northern tropical islands throughout these seas, being all 
 baked among hot stones, laid in a hole, and covered over, first with leaves, 
 and then with mould. Poulaho was fed by the chief who waited upon him, 
 both with victuals and drink. After he had finished, the remains were 
 carried away by the chief in waiting, who returned soon after with two 
 large, separate rolls of cloth, and two little, low wooden stools. The cloth 
 was for a covering while asleep, and the stools to raise and rest the head on, 
 as we do on a pillow. These were left within the house, or rather under 
 the roof, one side being open. The floor within was composed of dry grass, 
 leaves, and flowers, over which were spread large, well-wrought mats. On 
 this Poulaho and I removed and sat down, while the chief unrolled and 
 
92 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 spread out the cloth, after which he retired ; and in a few minutes there 
 appeared a fine young girl, about seventeen years of age, who, approaching 
 Poulaho, stooped and kissed his great toe, and then retired, and sat down in 
 an opposite part of the house. It was now about nine o clock, and a bright 
 moonshine ; the sky was serene, and the wind hushed. Suddenly I heard 
 a number of their flutes, beginning nearly at the same time, burst from every 
 quarter of the surrounding grove ; and whether this was meant as an 
 exhilarating serenade, or a soothing soporific to the great Poulaho, I cannot 
 tell. Immediately on hearing the music he took me by the hand, intimat 
 ing that he was going to sleep, and, showing me the other cloth, which 
 was spread nearly beside him, and the pillow, invited me to use it." 
 
 The manners of the people whom Ledyard had now an opportunity of 
 contemplating, indicated a character nearly the reverse of that of the New 
 Zealanders. In what circumstances those extraordinary differences origin 
 ated, it is foreign to the present purpose to inquire. To account for them, as 
 some writers have done, by the influence of climate, is willfully to sport with 
 facts and experience. Within the same degrees of latitude, pursuing our 
 researches round the globe, we have black men and white ; cannibals, and 
 races remarkable for humanity ; men so gross in their intellects, that they 
 retain nothing of man but the shape, and others with a character and genius 
 so admirably adapted to receive the impressions of laws and civilization, 
 that they turn every natural or accidental advantage of their position to the 
 greatest account, and run on in the career of improvement with gigantic 
 strides. This was not Ledyard s theory. He seemed everywhere to dis 
 cover proofs of the vast influence of climate in rendering men what they 
 are, morally as well as physically ; though he could not be ignorant that 
 while the climate of Greece and Italy remains what it was in old times, the 
 physiognomy of the inhabitants has undergone an entire change, while their 
 moral condition is, if possible, deteriorated still more than their features. 
 The mind of man seems, in fact, after having borne an extraordinary crop 
 of virtues, knowledge, and heroic deeds, to require, like the earth, to lie 
 fallow for a season. It cannot be made to yield fruit beyond a certain point, 
 upon which, when it has once touched, no power under heaven can prevent 
 its relapsing into barrenness. 
 
 The population scattered over the innumerable islands of the Pacific, have 
 been in a remarkably peculiar position from the time in which they were 
 discovered up to the present moment. Civilization has, in a manner, been 
 forced upon them. Their idols have been thrown down ; the bloody or 
 absurd rites of their religion have, in many instances, been exchanged for 
 the blessings and the light of Christianity; and although silly or affected 
 persons may lament for the disappearance of what they term a "picturesque 
 superstition," every real friend of humanity will rejoice at seeing a church 
 occupying the site of a morai ; and men, who once delighted to feed upon 
 the limbs of an enemy, employing themselves in deriving subsistence from 
 their own industry and ingenuity. 
 
 The people of Tongataboo, at the period of Ledyard s visit, though 
 neither cruel nor ferocious, were partial to athletic exercises, and not averse 
 to war. It seems to have yielded them great satisfaction to be allowed to 
 display, in the presence of their visitors, their vigor and dexterity, which 
 
OF AMERICANS. 93 
 
 were by no means despicable. Their performances, which chiefly consisted 
 of wrestling and boxing, always took place upon the greensward, in the 
 open air; and in order to prevent what was only meant for amusement 
 from degenerating into angry contests, a certain number of elderly men pre 
 sided over and regulated the exercises ; and when either of the combatants 
 appeared to be fairly worsted, they mildly signified the fact, and this was 
 considered a sufficient compliment to the victor. Like the boxers of 
 antiquity, they wore upon the hand a kind of glove, composed of cords or 
 thongs, designed to prevent their grappling each other, and at the same 
 time to preserve them from dislocations of the joints, particularly of that of 
 the thumb. Sometimes, however, they engaged each other with clubs, in 
 which caaes the performances were highly dangerous. Our traveler wit 
 nessed one of these contests, which, as the persons engaged were renowned 
 for their superior skill, was protracted considerably, though they are in 
 general of brief duration. At length, however, the affair was decided by a 
 fortuitous blow on the head. The vanquished champion was carried off 
 the ground by his friends, while the conqueror was greeted with enthusiastic 
 shouts of praise from the spectators ; and " when these shouts ended, tho 
 young women around the circle rose, and sang, and danced a short kind of 
 interlude, in celebration of the hero." 
 
 With the brilliant exhibition of fireworks, which, in return for their 
 hospitality and politeness, Cook got up for their amusement, both Poulaho 
 and his people were greatly astonished and delighted. The animals, like 
 wise, which were new to them, excited their wonder. Goats and sheep 
 they regarded as a species of birds ; but in the horse, the cow, the cat, and the 
 rabbit, they could perceive no analogy with the dog or the hog, the only 
 animals with which they had till then been conversant. 
 
 The ideas of these people respecting property, were either very vague, or 
 very different from those of their visitors. Whatever they saw pleasing to 
 the eye in the possession of the white men, without considering whether or 
 not it was intended for them, they immediately appropriated to them 
 selves ; probably from the belief that these munificent strangers, who 
 bestowed upon them so many wonderful things, were a kind of good genii, 
 who, in their own case, stood in no need of such articles. Cook did not 
 understand this simplicity. He attached the idea of a thief to every person 
 who touched what did not belong to him, and punished these ignorant 
 savages with the same rigid justice, if we may so apply the term, which he 
 would have shown toward a hardened offender at the Old Baily. In one 
 Instance, even the justice of his conduct may be questioned. One of the 
 chiefs stole some peacocks from the ships, and Cook arrested, not the 
 offender, but the king, whom he kept in custody until the culprit came for 
 ward engaging to restore the birds. This was an absurd exercise of power, 
 which could not fail considerably to abate the respect of the natives for the 
 civilized portion of mankind. 
 
 From Tongataboo the expedition sailed to Tahiti, where they arrived on 
 ths 14th of August. Here Ledyard employed his leisure, which appears to 
 have been considerable, in studying the character and manners of the in 
 habitants ; and upon these points his opinions generally agree with the re 
 ceived notions resDectinsr those Deoole. In sailinsr northward from thia 
 
94 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 group they discovered the Sandwich Islands, where they remained ten days ; 
 and then, steering still toward the north, arrived without accident in Nootka 
 Sound, where they cast anchor in nearly five hundred fathorhs of water. 
 Ledyard was now on his native continent, and, though more than three 
 thousand miles from the place of his birth, experienced on landing some 
 thing like a feeling of home. The inhabitants he found to be of the same 
 race with those on the shores of the Atlantic. In stature they are above the 
 middle size, athletic in their make, and of a copper color. Their long black 
 hair they wear tied up in a roll on the top of the head, and, by wav of orna 
 ment, smear it over with oil and paint, in which they stick a quantity of the 
 down of birds. They paint their faces red, blue, and white, but refused to 
 reveal the nature of their cosmetics, or the country whence thev obtained 
 them. Their clothing principally consists of skins, besides which, however, 
 they have two kinds of garments, of which one is manufactured from the 
 inner bark of trees, and resembles our coarser cloths ; the other made chiefly 
 from the hair of white dogs, and wrought over with designs, representing 
 their mode of catching the whale, which our traveler considered the most 
 ingenious piece of workmanship he anywhere saw executed by a savage. 
 All their garments, like those of the Hindoos, are worn like mantles, and are 
 invariably fringed, or ornamented in some fashion or other, at the edges. 
 This species of border ornament, denominated wampum on the opposite side 
 of the continent, was found, not only all along this coast, but also on th< 
 eastern shores of Asia. On the feet they wear no covering ; and if they 
 occasionally cover their heads, it is with a species of basket resembling that 
 which is sometimes worn by the Chinese and Tartars. In character they 
 were cunning, bold, ferocious, and, like the inhabitants of the Sandwich 
 Islands, addicted to cannibalism. 
 
 From thence they sailed along the coast of America to Behring s Straits, 
 in passing through which, they observed that both continents were visible 
 at the same time. The expedition having in vain transversed the polar 
 seas in search of the northwest passage, returned toward the south. Before 
 issuing through the belt of the Aleeootskian Islands into the Pacific, Cap 
 tain Cook remained some days at Onalaska, where Ledyard was engaged in 
 an adventure highly characteristic of his intrepid and chivalrous. disposition. 
 Even on their first landing, many peculiarities in the appearance and 
 costume, no less than in the movable possessions of the people, strongly 
 excited their curiosity ; for it was at once perceived that there existed two 
 races of men upon the island, of which one might be supposed to be 
 aboriginal, while the other might be presumed to be adscititious ; an offshoot, 
 in all probability, from the great Asiatic stock. They were in possession of 
 tobacco, and, in many instances, wore blue linen shirts and drawers. The 
 circumstance, however, which excited most surprise, was the appearance of 
 a young chief, bearing with him a cake of rye-meal newly oaked, and con 
 taining a piece of salmon seasoned with pepper and salt, as a present to 
 Captain Cook. He informed them, by signs, that there were white strangers 
 in the country, who had come, like them, over the great waters in a large 
 ship. 
 
 This information excited in Cook a desire to explore the island. It was 
 difficult, however, to determine in what manner the object was to be 
 
OF AMERICANS. 95 
 
 effected. An armed body would proceed slowly, and might, perhaps, bo 
 cut off an irreparable loss to the expedition. The risk of a single indi 
 vidual would be imminent, but his movements would be more rapid ; and 
 if he should fall, the loss to the public would not be great. Yet, as tho 
 commander did not think himself justified in ordering any person to under 
 take so perilous an enterprise, a volunteer was sought for ; and Ledyard pre 
 sented himself. The great navigator was highly pleased with this example 
 of intrepidity, for the brave always sympathize with the brave ; and after 
 giving the traveler instructions how to proceed, "he wished me well," says 
 Ledyard, "and desired I would dot be longer absent than a week, if possible ; 
 at the expiration of which he should expect me to retura. If I did not 
 return by that time, he should wait another week for me, and no longer." 
 
 The young chief who brought Cook the rye-cake and the salmon, with 
 two persons who attended him, were to serve as guides on the occasion. 
 Being furnished with a small quantity of bread and some brandy in bottles, 
 intended for presents to the Indians, our traveler departed with his Indian 
 guides, and, during the first day, advanced about fifteen miles into the 
 interior. About nightfall they arrived at a small village, consisting of about 
 thirty huts, some of which were large and spacious, though not very lofty. 
 These huts were composed of a slight frame erected over a square hole sunk 
 about four feet into the ground. Below the frame was covered with turf, 
 which served as a wall, and above it was thatched with grass. Though the 
 whole village, men, women, and children, crowded to see him, it was not 
 with the intense curiosity which their behavior would have exhibited, had 
 they never before beheld a white man. Here they passed the night. 
 
 Their course had hitherto lain toward the north, but they, next morning, 
 turned round toward the southwest. About three hours before night they 
 reached the edge of a large bay, where the chief entered into a canoe, with 
 all their baggage, and intimating to Ledyard that he was to follow his other 
 companions, left him abruptly, and paddled across the bay. Although 
 rendered somewhat uneasy at this movement, he proceeded along the shore 
 with his guides, and in about two hours, observed a canoe making toward 
 them across the bay. Upon this they ran down to the water s edge, and, 
 by shouting and waving bushes to and fro in the air, attracted the attention 
 of the savages in the canoe. It was beginning to be dark, says he, when the 
 canoe came to us. It was a skin canoe, after the Esquimaux plan, with two 
 holes to accommodate two sitters. The Indians that came in the canoe 
 talked a little with my two guides, and then came to me, and desired I 
 would get into the canoe. This I did not very readily agree to, however, 
 as there was no place for me but to be thrust into the space between the 
 holes, extended at length upon my back, and wholly excluded from seeing 
 the way I went, or the power of extricating myself upon an emergency. 
 But as there was no alternative, I submitted thus to be stowed away in bulk, 
 and went head foremost very swift through the water about an hour, when 
 I felt the canoe strike a beach, and afterward lifted up and carried some 
 distance, and then set down again ; after which I was drawn out by the 
 shoulders by three or four men ; for it was now so dark that I could not tell 
 who they were, though I was conscious I heard a language that was new. 
 I was conducted by two of these persons who appeared to be strangers, 
 
96 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 about forty rods, when I saw lights and a number of huts like those I left in 
 the morning. As we approached one of them, a door opened and discov 
 ered a lamp, by which, to my great joy, I discovered that the two men who 
 held me by each arm were Europeans, fair and comely, and concluded from 
 their appearance they were Russians, which I soon after found to be true. 
 
 By these Russians, who had established themselves in Onalaska for the 
 purpose of collecting furs for the markets of Moscow and Petersburg, Led- 
 yard was received and entertained in a most hospitable manner ; and when 
 he returned to the ships, was accompanied by three of the principal persons 
 among them, and several inferior attendants. " The satisfaction this dis 
 covery gave Cook," says he, "and the honor that redounded to me, may be 
 easily imagined ; and the several conjectures respecting the appearance of a 
 foreign intercourse were rectified and confirmed." 
 
 From Onalaska the expedition sailed southward for the Sandwich Islands, 
 and in two months arrived at Hawaii. On entering a commodious bay, dis 
 covered on the southern coast of the island, they observed, on each hand, a 
 town of considerable size, from which crowds of people, to whom the 
 appearance offered by the ships was totally new, crowded down to the beach 
 to receive the strangers. Their number was prodigious. No less than three 
 thousand canoes, containing at least fifteen thousand men, women, and 
 children, were crowded in the bay ; and, besides these, numbers sustained 
 themselves on floats, or swam about in the water. " The beach, the sur 
 rounding rocks, the tops of the houses, the branches of trees, and the adjacent 
 hills, were all covered ; and the shouts of joy and admiration proceeding 
 from the sonorous voices of the men, confused with the shriller exclama 
 tions of the women, dancing and clapping their hands, the oversetting of 
 canoes, cries of the children, goods afloat, and hogs, that were brought to 
 market, squeaking, formed one of the most curious prospects that can bo 
 imagined." Yet, amid all this vast multitude, no signs of hostility, no dispo 
 sition to insult or annoy the strangers appeared. Both parties were very far, 
 at that moment, from anticipating that tragical event which shortly after 
 ward dyed their shores with blood, and rendered -the name of Hawaii 
 memorable in the history of discovery. 
 
 However, for the first, few days extraordinary harmony prevailed. Visits 
 were made and returned ; fireworks were exhibited by the English ; wrest 
 ling, boxing, and various other kinds of athletic exercises, by the savages. 
 During this continuance of good humor, Ledyard obtained permission to 
 make a tour in the interior of the island, for the purpose of examining the 
 nature of the country, and of ascending, if possible, the peak of Mouna JRoa, 
 which, though situated in an island not exceeding ninety miles in diameter, 
 is regarded as one of the loftiest in the world. He was accompanied by the 
 botanist and gunner of the Resolution, and by a number of natives, some as 
 guides, others to carry the baggage. Admonished by the snows which 
 gliitered in dazzling pinnacles on the summit of Mouna Roa, they provided 
 themselves with additional clothing to guard against the effects of a sudden 
 transition from the heat of a tropical sun to intense cold. Their road during 
 the first part of the journey lay through inclosed plantations of sweet 
 potatoes, with a soil of lava, tilled in some places with difficulty. Here 
 and there, in moist situations, were small patches of sugar-cane ; and these, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 97 
 
 as they proceeded, were followed by open plantations of bread-fruit trees. 
 The land now began to ascend abruptly, and was thickly covered with wild 
 fern. About sunset they arrived on the skirts of the woods, which stretched 
 round the mour.tain like a belt, at the uniform distance of four or five miles 
 from the shore. Here they found an uninhabited hut, in which they passed 
 the night. 
 
 Next morning, on entering the forest, they found there had been heavy 
 rain during the night, though none of it had reached them at the distance 
 of about two hundred yards. They traversed the woods by a compass, 
 keeping in a direct line for the peak ; and, finding a beaten track nearly in 
 their course, were enabled on the second day to advance about fifteen miles. 
 At night they rested under the shelter of a fallen tree, and early next morn 
 ing recommenced their journey. It was soon discovered, however, that the 
 difficulties they had hitherto encountered were ease itself compared with 
 those against which they were now to contend. To persons unaccustomed 
 as they were to walk, a journey of so great a length would, under any cir 
 cumstances, have been a grievous task. But they were impeded in their 
 movements by heavy burdens ; their path was steep, broken, and rugged ; 
 and the farther they proceeded, the more dense and impenetrable did the 
 thickets become. At length, it became evident that the enterprise must be 
 abandoned ; and with those unpleasant feelings which accompany baffled 
 ambition, they returned by the way they had gone to the ships. 
 
 In less than a fortnight after their arrival at Hawaii, the discoverers, by 
 their impolitic, or rather insolent behavior, had contrived to irritate the 
 savage natives almost to desperation. They saw themselves, and, what 
 perhaps was more galling, their gods treated with silent contempt or open 
 scorn ; while their wives and daughters were contaminated by the brutal 
 lusts of the sailors. How far these circumstances were within the control of 
 Captain Cook, or, in other words, to what degree of blame he is liable for 
 what took place, it is not our present business to inquire. But assuredly, 
 according to the testimony of Ledyard, this great navigator seems, during 
 the last few days of his life, to have been urged by a kind of fatality into 
 the commission of actions highly despotic and unjustifiable in themselves, 
 and, under the circumstances in which they were performed, little short of 
 insane. The mere idea of converting the fence and idols of the morai 
 objects sacred to them, however contemptible in our eyes into firewood, 
 argues a reprehensible disregard of the feelings of the natives. His offer of 
 two hatchets to the priest in payment, reminds one of Captain Clapperton s 
 promise of a couple of guns, a few flasks of powder, and some rockets to 
 Sultan Bello, as the price of his putting down the slave-trade. But when 
 the priest refused the proffered payment, not so much on account of its pre 
 posterous inadequacy of which, however, savage as he was, he must havo 
 been fully sensible because, in his eyes, no price was an equivalent for 
 articles, to destroy which would be sacrilege, to proceed with a strong hand 
 in the work of destruction, profaning the spot which contained the ashes of 
 their ancestors, and throwing down and bearing away the images of their 
 gods. This was an outrage which the tamest and most enslaved race would 
 have found it difficult to endure. 
 
08 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 However, force was triumphant; but from that moment the souls of the 
 natives were on fire, and revenge was determined on. A relation of the 
 various incidents and small events by which the tragic action moved 
 onward to its completion, would be incompatible with my present design. 
 Captain Cook, accompanied by an armed force, in which Ledyard was 
 included, went on shore for the purpose of making the king a prisoner, and 
 of keeping him in confinement on board, until certain articles stolen by his 
 subjects should be restored. The savages, with a boldness worthy of admira 
 tion, opposed his designs, and compelled him to retreat toward his boats. 
 Here, as the marines were endeavoring to embark, a contest took place ; 
 stones were thrown by the natives ; the English flew to their firearms ; and 
 a chief, rushing on with an iron dagger in his hand, stabbed Cook through 
 the body. His guards, likewise, were all cut off excepting two, who escaped 
 by swimming. The cannon of the Resolution were now fired at the crowd, 
 and this produced an almost instantaneous retreat; though the savages, 
 mindful even in the midst of danger of the gratification of their appetite, 
 took care to carry along with them the bodies of their fallen enemies ; in 
 order, by feasting upon them at their leisure, to derive some trilling comfort 
 from their disaster. 
 
 The business now was to retire as quickly as possible from the island, 
 which they did ; and having again entered Behring s Strait, and sailed about 
 for some time among the ices of the Polar Sea, they returned by way of 
 China and the Cape of Good Hope to England, after an absence of four 
 years and three months. 
 
 In 1782 Ledyard sailed on board an English man-of-war for America, 
 not with a design to serve against his country, but determined on seizing 
 the first occasion of escape which should offer itself. An opportunity scon 
 occurred. On arriving at Long Island, then in the possession of the English, 
 he obtained permission of seven days absence from the ship, for the purpose 
 of seeing his mother, who then kept a boarding-house at Southold, occupied 
 chiefly by British officers. "He rode up to the door, alighted, went in, and 
 asked if he could be accommodated in her house as a lodger. She replied 
 that he could, and showed him a room into which his baggage was con 
 veyed. After having adjusted his dress, he came out and took a seat by 
 the fire, in company with several other officers, without making himself 
 known to his mother, or entering into conversation with any person. 
 She frequently passed and repassed through the room, and her eye was 
 observed to be attracted toward him with more than usual attention. He 
 still remained silent. At last, after looking at him steadily for some min 
 utes, she deliberately put on her spectacles, approached nearer to him, 
 begging his pardon for her rudeness, and telling him that he so much 
 resembled a son of hers, who had been absent for eight years, that she could 
 not resist her inclination to view him more closely. The scene that followed 
 may be imagined, but not described ; for Ledyard had a tender heart, and. 
 affection for his mother was among its deepest and most constant e-notious." 
 
 He now visited his old friends and many of the places which youthful 
 recollections rendered dear to him. He was everywhere well received, and 
 employed the leisure which he now enjoyed for several months, in writing 
 
OF AMERICANS. 99 
 
 an account of his voyage round the world with Captain Cook. But when 
 this was done, many motives, among which want of money was not the 
 least, urged him to enter upon some new plan of life. His favorite project 
 at this time, and indeed throughout the remainder of his life, was a voyage 
 of commerce and discovery to the northwestern coast of America; and 
 during the remainder of his stay in his native country he made numerous 
 efforts to obtain wealthy co-operators in his design. Being constantly dis 
 appointed, however, he once more turned his thoughts toward Europe, 
 where the spirit of speculation was bolder and more liberal, and proceeded 
 to France. Here his projects were eage-rly patronized, and as easily 
 abandoned ; and during a long stay, both at L Orient and Paris, he subsisted 
 by shifts and expedients, associating by turns with every variety of char 
 acter, from Jefferson down to Paul Jones. 
 
 How he existed at all, unless upon the bounty of his friends, is altogether 
 inexplicable. He was now reduced to the character of a mere adventurer, 
 and his life, during this period, affords no incidents worthy of being 
 described. An Englishman, who had given him fifteen guineas at St. 
 Germain, shortly afterward invited him to London, and procured him a 
 passage in a ship bound for the Pacific Ocean, with a promise from the 
 captain that he would set him on shore upon any point of the northwest 
 coast which he might choose. He now once more appeared to be verging 
 toward the accomplishment of his dearest wishes. He embarked ; the 
 vessel sailed down the Thames, and put out to sea ; but before they were 
 out of sight of land, the ship was brought back by an order from the govern 
 ment, and the voyage was finally abandoned. 
 
 Ledyard s enthusiasm, however, in the prosecution of his designs, though 
 it is probable that few could perceive the advantages to be derived from 
 their accomplishment, procured him many friends in London ; and it is said 
 that a subscription was set on foot by Sir Joseph Banks, Dr. Hunter, Sir 
 James Hall, and Colonel Smith. From the result of this measure, we must 
 inevitably infer one or two things either that the liberality of those gentle 
 men was exceedingly scanty, or that their opinion of Ledyard s prudence 
 was very low. From several circumstances which afterward took place, the 
 latter is the more probable inference. Be this as it may, we find him, on 
 his arrival at Hamburgh, with no more than ten guineas in his pocket ; and 
 these, with reckless and unpardonable absurdity, he bestowed upon a Major 
 Langhorn, an eccentric vagabond, who, after accepting his money and 
 reducing him to beggary, coolly refused to bear him company on his 
 journey to Petersburg ; alleging, as his excuse, that he could travel in the 
 way he did with no man upon earth. What his mode of traveling was, we 
 have no means of ascertaining ; but from his conduct in this transaction, it 
 may be inferred, without any great stretch of uncharitableness, that Ledyarrt 
 was fortunate in getting rid of such a companion at the expense of all he 
 was worth in the world. The man who is insensible of a generous action, 
 could be no desirable companion in any circumstances of life ; but to be 
 linked with such an individual in traversing a foreign land, would have 
 been a curse which few who have not experienced a similar calamity can 
 conceive. 
 
100 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Having at the same time bade adieu to his money and the graceless 
 major, he began to experience the effects of his folly ; for had he not, by 
 singular good fortune, found a merchant who consented to accept a bill on a 
 friend in London, and pay him the amount, his travels must have terminated 
 where he was. This supply, however, enabled him to pursue his route. 
 
 On arriving at Stockholm, Ledyard found that the Gulf of Bothnia was 
 neither sufficiently frozen to enable him to cross it upon the ice, nor yet free 
 enough from ice to be navigable. Under these circumstances he formed the 
 daring resolution of traveling round the gulf, a distance of twelve hundred 
 miles, "over trackless snows, in regions thinly peopled, where the nights are 
 long, and the cold intense and all this to gain no more than fifty miles." 
 Accordingly, he set out for Tornea, in the depth of winter, on foot, with 
 little money in his pocket, and no friends to whom he could apply when 
 his small stock should be exhausted. Of this part of his travels no account 
 remains. Other travelers who have visited Tornea in winter, under the 
 most favorable circumstances, describe in tremendous colors the horrors of 
 the place. "The place," says Maupertuis, "on our arrival, on the 30th of 
 December, had really a most frightful aspect. Its little houses were buried 
 to the tops in snow, which, if there had been any daylight, must have 
 effectually shut it out. But the snow continually falling, or ready to fall, 
 for the most part, hid the sun the few moments that he might have showed 
 himself at midday. In the month of January the cold was increased to the 
 extremity, that Reaumur s mercurial thermometers, which, in Paris, in the 
 great frost of 1709, it was thought strange to see fall to fourteen degrees 
 below the freezing point, were now down to thirty-seven. The spirit of 
 wine in the others was frozen. If we opened the door of a warm room, the 
 external air instantly converted all the air in it into snow, whirling it round 
 in white vortices. If we went abroad, we felt as if the air were tearing our 
 breasts to pieces. * 
 
 Such was the country through which Ledyard made his way to Peters 
 burg, which he reached on the 20th of March, that is, within seven weeks 
 from his leaving Stockholm, making the distance traveled over, about two 
 hundred miles per week, upon an average. Here he was well received by 
 Professor Pallas and other scientific men ; and through the interest of Count 
 Segur, the French embassaclor, obtained the empress permission to traverse 
 her vast dominions. As he was compelled to wait several months, how 
 ever, for this indispensable document, and was destitute, on his arrival at 
 Petersburg, of money, and almost of clothes, he drew a bill of twenty 
 guineas on Sir Joseph Banks, which he was fortunate enough to get some 
 one to discount. This enabled him to await the leisure of Catharine, who 
 was too deeply plunged in her schemes of debauchery and ambition, to 
 afford a thought on a poor houseless wanderer like Ledyard. But at length 
 the passport was granted ; and a Dr. Brown happening at that moment to 
 be proceeding with a quantity of stores to Yakutsk, for the use f Mr. 
 Billings, who was then employed by the empress in exploring the remoter 
 parts of Siberia and Kamtschatka, our traveler obtained permission to 
 accompany him. 
 
 They left Petersburg on the 1st of June, and in six days after arrived at 
 
OF AMERICANS. 101 
 
 Moscow. Here they nired a kibjtka, and proceeded at the same rapid rate 
 toward Kezan, on the Volga, where they remained a week ; and then set off 
 on the full gallop for Tobolsk. It should be remarked, that Ledyard s 
 object in this journey was not to see the country, but to reach the north 
 west coast of America, where he hoped to make some useful discoveries, as 
 quickly as possible ; otherwise it would have been far wiser to have "made 
 his legs his compasses," at the risk of consuming years in the journey. In 
 the vast plain which stretches from Moscow to the Ural Mountains, there 
 was, it is true, very little of the picturesque, and not much of the moral, to 
 captivate the eye or interest the mind of a traveler ; but there is no country, 
 the careful examination of which may not be made to yield both amuse 
 ment and instruction. Ledyard, however, was not answerable for the 
 rapidity of his movements ; he accounted himself but too happy in being 
 allowed to share Dr. Brown s kibitka ; and had it been in the empress 
 power to have darted him across Siberia upon an iceberg, or astride upon a 
 cloud, he would not have objected to the conveyance. 
 
 From Tobolsk they proceeded to Bernaoul, the capital of the province of 
 Kolyvan, where Dr. Brown s journey terminated. At this place Ledyard 
 remained a whole week, and was entertained in a very hospitable manner 
 by the treasurer of the mines. He observes, that the immense plain he had 
 traversed in reaching this city, was in many places dotted with large mounds 
 of earth, which very much resembled those supposed monumental piles 
 found among various tribes of North America, and the barrows or heroic 
 tombs of ancient Europe. In the people the Tartar features began to 
 appear before they reached Kazan. But there existed great variety in the 
 population ; the same village containing every variety of mankind, from 
 those with fair skin, light hair, and white eyes, to those of olive complexion, 
 and jet-black eyes and hair. Poverty, as may be supposed, was no stranger 
 in these villages ; for they had not, like the Chremylus of Aristophanes, 
 discovered the secret of restoring sight to Plutus ; but this did not dis 
 courage the fair moieties of the peasants from painting their faces, like a 
 discontented English beauty, both with red and white. As these damsels 
 are not niggardly of their kisses, it would be useless for them to adopt tho 
 custom which prevailed among the ancient Greek ladies, of painting the 
 lips ; but this, it would seem, is the sole consideration which opposes the 
 introduction of the custom. " The Tartar, however situated," says Ledyard, 
 "is a voluptuary ; and it is an original and striking trait in their character, 
 from the grand seignior to him who pitches his tent on the wild frontiers of 
 Russia and China, that they are more addicted to real sensual pleasure than 
 any other people." This is a judicious remark, and corroborates the testi 
 mony of the ancient historian, who tells us that the Scythian ladies were 
 accustomed to put out the eyes of their male slaves, that they might be 
 ignorant of the name and quality of the mistresses to whose wantonness 
 they were made subservient. 
 
 From Bernaoul he proceeded with an imperial courier to Tomsk, discover 
 ing, as he rode along, marks of the tremendous winds which sometimes 
 devastate Siberia. The trees of the forest were uprooted, and whole fields 
 of grain were beaten into the earth. Hurrying onward in the same rapid 
 
102 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 manner, he crossed the Yeiusei at Krasnojarsk, and entered a rough, moun 
 tainous country, covered with thick forests, which continued all the way to 
 Irkutsk, where he arrived in ten days after leaving Tomsk. 
 
 During his stay in this town, he made an excursion, in company with a 
 German colonel, to the Lake Baikal, which, in the Kalmuck language, 
 signifies the "North Sea." Arriving on the shores of the lake, they 
 found a galliot, which, in summer, plies a packet across the "North 
 Sea." In this galliot they went out with line and lead to take sound 
 ings ; but having only fifty fathoms of line, which at one hundred feet 
 from the shore was wholly taken up, they quickly abandoned theif 
 soundings, and returned through the rain in the galliot s boat to 
 Irkutsk. 
 
 On the 26th of August, he quitted Irkutsk, and proceeded toward the 
 point where he was to embark on the River Lena for Yakutsk. The country 
 in this part was well cultivated, and therefore cheerful ; but the forest trees 
 had already begun to drop their foliage, and put on the garb of autumn. 
 Having proceeded one hundred and fifty miles in his kibitka, he embarked 
 with Lieutenant Laxman, a Swede, in a boat on the Lena, and commenced 
 a voyage of fourteen hundred miles. Their boat was carried along at the 
 rate of eighty or a hundred miles per day, " the river gradually increasing 
 in size, and the mountain scenery putting on an infinite variety of forms, 
 alternately sublime and picturesque, bold and fantastic, with craggy rocks 
 and jutting headlands, bearing on their brows the verdure of pines, larches, 
 and other evergreens and alpine shrubs." All the way to Yakutsk the 
 river was studded with islands, which recurring at short intervals, added to 
 the romantic effect of the scenery ; but the weather was growing cold, and 
 heavy fogs hung over the river until a late hour in the morning. The 
 mountains flanking the river were said to abound with wolves and bears ; 
 and there was an abundance of wild fowl, of which our travelers shot as 
 many as they pleased. Salmon-trout were plentiful in the river ; and the 
 inhabitants fished with seines, and also with spears, like the natives of 
 Tahiti, by torchlight. 
 
 On the 18th of September he arrived at Yakutsk, where he immediately 
 waited on the commandant with his letters of recommendation, and ex 
 plained his desire of proceeding with all possible celerity to Okotsk, before 
 winter should shut in and cut off his progress. The commandant, however, 
 had received secret orders to detain him ; and under pretense that the season 
 was already too far advanced, informed him that he must pass the winter at 
 Yakutsk. Though nothing could exceed the rage and vexation of Ledyard 
 at this unexpected disappointment, he was sensible that it was necessary to 
 submit ; the determination of the despots around him being as irresistible 
 as destiny. He therefore bent his attention to the consideration of the 
 objects within his reach ; and in these compulsory studies awaited the return 
 of spring. 
 
 In the journal of his Siberian travels, he discourses upon a variety of 
 interesting topics. Among these was his celebrated eulogy on woman. Thia 
 is regarded as the most beautiful and touching tribute to the moral superi 
 ority of the female character in the whole range of literature. It shows one 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 103 
 
 of the sources of consolation to the lone traveler in his wanderings over the 
 world ; and exhibits, also, the warm affections of a grateful heart toward 
 the sex, to whom alone can be applied, the loving, tender words " sister," 
 "wife," "mother." 
 
 LEDYARD 8 EULOGY ON WOMAN. 
 
 " I have observed among all nations that the WOMEN ornament 
 themselves more thau the men : that wherever found they are the 
 same kind, civil, ohligiug, humane, tender heings j that they are 
 ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest. They 
 do not hesitate, like man, to perform a hospitable, generous action ; 
 not haughty, nor arrogant, nor supercilious, but full of courtesy, 
 aud fond of society ; industrious, economical, ingenuous ; more 
 liable, in general, to err thau man, but in general, also, more 
 virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. I never 
 addressed myself in the language of decency and friendship to a 
 WOMAN, whether civilized or savage, without receiving a decent and 
 friendly answer. With man it has often been otherwise. In 
 wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark, through 
 honest Sweden, frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, un 
 principled Russia, and the wide-spread regions of the wandering 
 Tartar, if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, WOMAN has ever been 
 friendly to me, and uniformly so ; and to add to this virtue so 
 worthy of the appellation of benevolence, these actions have been 
 performed in so free and so kind a manner, that if I was dry I 
 drank the sweet draught, aud if hungry, ate the coarse morsel with 
 a double relish." 
 
 During Ledyard s weary sojourn at Yakutsk, Captain Billings, who had been 
 on an expedition by order of the Empress Catherine, arrived in the place. He 
 was formerly intimate with Ledyard, having been an assistant to the as 
 tronomer Bayless, during the last voyage of Cook. He was astonished and 
 gratified at meeting with Ledyard in the heart of Siberia. Remaining there 
 during five weeks, they set out together for Irkutsk in sledges over the ice 
 of the river Lena, a distance of fifteen hundred miles, which they reached in 
 seventeen days ; there, by order of the empress, Ledyard was arrested on the 
 24:th of the ensuing February, upon a false allegation that he was a French 
 spy. He was closely guarded, whirled in sledges over the snow, through 
 the intense cold of a Siberian winter to Moscow, to answer the charge. In 
 this condition he wrote the following : " My ardent hopes are once more 
 blasted, when almost half accomplished. What secret machinations have 
 been at work ? What motive ? But so it suits her royal majesty of all the 
 Russias, and she has nothing but her pleasure to consult ; she has n 
 nation s resentment to apprehend, for I am the minister of no State, L 
 monarch ; I travel under the common flag of humanity, commissioned by 
 myself to serve the world at large ; and so the poor, the unprotected 
 wanderer, must go where the sovereign will ordains ; if to death, why then 
 my journeying will be over sooner, and rather differently from what I con- 
 
104 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 templated ; if otherwise, why then the royal dame has taken me much out 
 of my way. But I pursue another route. The rest of the world lies un- 
 interdicted. Though born in the freest of the civilized countries, yet in 
 the present state of privation, I have a more exquisite sense of the amiable, 
 the immortal nature of liberty, than I ever had before." He continues these 
 remarks at some length, deploring his arrest, as an interference with hia 
 plans, but bowing with submissive stoicism to the strokes of fate. 
 
 The result of his arrest, was his banishment to the frontiers of Poland, 
 and being forbidden on pain of death to re-enter the Russian dcminions. 
 Speaking of this, he says : " Cruelties and hardships are tales I leave untold. 
 I was disappointed in the pursuit of an object on which my future fortune 
 entirely depended. I know not how I passed through the kingdoms of 
 Polar 1 and Prussia, or from thence to London, where I arrived in the 
 beginning of May, disappointed, ragged, penniless; and yet, so accustomed 
 am I to such tilings, that I declare my heart was whole. My health, for 
 the first time, had suffered from my confinement, and the amazing rapidity, 
 with which I had been carried through the illimitable wilds of Tartary and 
 Russia. But my liberty regained, and a few days rest among the beautiful 
 daughters of Isreal, in Poland, re-established it, and I am now in as full 
 bloom and vigor as thirty-seven years will afford any man. Jarvis says I 
 look much older than when he saw me three summers ago at Paris, which 
 I can readily believe. An American face does not wear well, like an 
 American heart. 
 
 It would be now idle to inquire into the motives which urged that old 
 profligate despot, the Empress Catherine, into such an act of flagrant injus 
 tice, as the seizure of Ledyard. She had, no doubt, been told that his 
 success might be in some way or another detrimental to her commerce ; and 
 without consideration or inquiry, perhaps in one of her furious fits of rage 
 or drunkenness, she issued the order for his recall, which was executed 
 with no less barbarity than it was given. 
 
 On his arrival at London, Ledyard, unsubdued by the bitterness of past 
 disappointments, determined to enter upon some new theater of adventure; 
 for, in his case, as with wanderers generally, the passion for travel but in 
 creased by indulgence. 
 
 At this time he wrote an affectionate letter to his mother, from which the 
 following is an extract : "I wrote you last from this place nearly two years 
 ago, but I suppose you heard of me at Petersburg!!, by Mr. Franklin, of 
 New York. I promised to write you from the remote parts of Siberia. I 
 promise everything to those I love, and so does fortune to me sometimes ; 
 but we reciprocally prevent each other from fulfilling our engagements. 
 $Ae left me so poor in Siberia that I could not write you, because I could not 
 frank tlie letter ! " He goes on to explain the nature of his anticipated trip 
 to Africa, speaks of his engagement with the association, and amplifies upon 
 its expected results, giving assurances in the meantime of his most intense 
 filial love. He also sent her specimens of the wearing apparel he had used 
 in Siberia : " Such as I have worn," he says, " through many a scene, and 
 was glad to get them." 
 
 " The surtout coat is made of reindeer skin, and edged with the dewlap of 
 the moose. It was made for a riding coat, and I have rode both horses and 
 
OP AMERICANS. 105 
 
 deer with it. The first cap is of the Siberian red fox skin ; it is a traveling 
 cap, and the form is entirely Tartar. The second cap is Kussian, consisting 
 of white ermine, and bordered with blue fox skin ; it cost me at Yakutsk 
 twenty-five roubles, which is four guineas and one rouble. The surtout 
 coat cost seventy roubles ; and the fox skin cap, six. The gloves are made 
 of the feet of the fox, and lined with Tartar hare, and cost five roubles. 
 The frock is in form and style truly Tartar. It was presented to me, and 
 came from the borders of the Frozen Ocean, at the mouth of the river 
 Kolyma. It is made of a spotted reindeer calf; the edging is the same as 
 that on the surtout. 
 
 The boots are of reindeer skin, ornamented with European cloth ; the 
 form is Tartar : they cost eight roubles. The socks are made of the skin of 
 an old reindeer. The cloak in which they are wrapped up, was made in 
 London. I traveled on foot with it in Denmark, Sweden, Lapland, Fin 
 land the Lord knows where. I have slept in it, eat in it, drank in it, 
 fought in it, negotiated in it. Through every scene, it has been my constant 
 and hardy servant, from my departure till my return to London. And now 
 to give it an asylum for I have none I send it to you. Lay it up ; as 
 soon .as I can I will call and lay myself up with it." It seems that he sent 
 his mother nearly a complete suit of his traveling clothes, sufficient, at any 
 rate, to give a correct idea of her erratic son s appearance, among the frozen 
 wilds of Siberia. T was well he did he never " called and laid himself 
 up with them." 
 
 Another field was now opened to the enterprise of Ledyard. He was 
 taken into the service of the African Association, which was composed of 
 gome of the first characters in England, the object of which was to promote 
 discoveries in the interior of that continent. 
 
 " For many ages the continent of Africa had be-en a neglected portion of 
 the globe, of which the rest of the world had taken little account. The 
 learning, and splendor, and prowess of Egypt were departed ; Carthage, with 
 all its glory, had sunk into the dust; the proud monuments of Numidian 
 greatness had been blotted from the face of the earth, and almost from the 
 memory of man. The gloom of this scene was heightened, not more by 
 the ravages of time in destroying what had been, than by the contrasts 
 which succeeding changes had produced. A semibarbarous population, 
 gathered from the wrecks of fallen nations, enemies to the arts, and to the 
 best social interests of man, had gradually spread themselves over the whole 
 northern borders of Africa, and presented a barrier to the hazards of enter 
 prise, no less than to the inroads of civilization. Whatever might be the 
 ardor for discovery, and, the disregard of danger, nobody cared to penetrate 
 into these regions, where all was uncertainty, and where the chance of 
 success bore no proportion to the perils that must be encountered. 
 
 There is no question, that the northern half of Africa was better known to 
 the Romans at the time of Julius Csesar, than to the Europeans in the mid 
 dle of the eighteenth century, A few scattered names of rivers, towns, and 
 nations, occupied the map of the interior, traced there by a hesitating hand, 
 on the dubious authority of the Nubian geographer Edrissi, and the Spanish 
 traveler Leo Africanus. The rhymes of Swift on this subject, were not mow 
 witty than true. 
 
106 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " Geographers, in Afric maps, 
 With savage pictures fill. their gaps, 
 And o er unhabitable downs, 
 Place elephants, for want of towns." 
 
 At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Leo penetrated as far as Timbuc- 
 too and the Niger ; but so imperfect were his descriptions, even of what ha 
 saw, that very little geographical knowledge was communicated by them. 
 He was on the banks of the Niger ; but it could not be ascertained from his 
 account, whether this river ran to the east or west, nor, indeed, whether :t 
 existed as a separate stream. 
 
 In short, down to the time when the African Association was formed, 
 almost the whole of this vast continent, its geography and physical resources, 
 its inhabitants, governments, languages, were a desideratum in the history 
 of nature and of man. It could not be doubted, that many millions of 
 human beings inhabited these hidden regions. Nor were the character and 
 condition of these people, their institutions and social advancement, mer3 
 matters of curiosity ; they had a relation to the people of other parts of tb.3 
 globe, and, when discovered and understood, might be turned to the corn- 
 mon advantage of the great human family. There are no nations that may 
 not profit by an intercourse between each other, either by an exchange of 
 products peculiar to each, or by a reciprocal moral influence, or by both. 
 On these broad and benevolent principles the society for promoting dis 
 coveries in Africa was instituted, and the scheme was worthy of the en- 
 lightened philanthropists by whom it was devised." 
 
 On the committee of the African Association, at the time the arrange 
 ment with Ledyard was made, was Sir Joseph Banks, through whose 
 agency he became connected with the enterprise. The preliminary inter 
 view which Ledyard had with Sir Joseph on this subject, is thus described 
 by Mr. Beaujoy, then secretary of the African Association : " Sir Joseph 
 Banks, who knew his temper, told him that he believed he could recom 
 mend him to an adventure almost as perilous as the one from which he had 
 returned ; and then communicated to him the wishes of the association, for 
 discovering the inland countries of Africa. Ledyard replied, that he had 
 always determined to traverse the continent of Africa, as soon as he had 
 explored the interior of North America ; and as Sir Joseph had offered him 
 a letter of introduction, he came directly to the writer of these memoirs. 
 Before I had learned from the note the name and business of my visitor, I 
 was struck with the manliness of his person, the breadth of his chest, the 
 openness of his countenance, the inquietude of his eye. I spread the map 
 of Africa before him, and tracing a line from Cairo to Sennaar, and passed 
 thence in the latitude and supposed direction of the Niger, I told him that 
 was the route by which I was anxious that Africa might, if possible, be ex 
 plored. He said he should think himself singularly fortunate to be trusted 
 with the adventure. I asked him when he would set out. TO-MORROW 
 MORNING ! was his answer. I told him I was afraid that we should not be 
 able, in so short a time, to prepare his instructions, and to procure for him 
 the letters that were requisite ; but that if the committee approved of hia 
 proposals, all expedition should be used." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 107 
 
 This interview is one of the most wonderful instances of decision of 
 character on record. Notwithstanding his recent bitter experience, enough 
 to have crushed the most romantic enthusiasm, Ledyard was ready to face 
 death, by encountering new and unheard-of perils in the heart of Africa. 
 Any other man would long have hesitated ere they would have decided to 
 embtrk on such a mission, and none, except the bravest, but what would 
 then have quailed in view of its dangers : yet Ledyard, superior to all fear 
 in the prompt decision of an elevated spirit, gave the unexpected and sur 
 prising answer : " To-morrow morning, sir ! " 
 
 Ledyard was in a situation now better suited to his wishes and nature, 
 than ever before. From the position of seeker, he had attained, by the 
 exhibition of his superior qualities, that of the sought, and with entire inde 
 pendence he could press his restless foot on the plains of Africa. Buoyed 
 up with expectation, he thus wrote to his mother : " Truly it is written, 
 that the ways of God are past finding out, and his decrees unsearchable. 
 Is the Lord thus great ? So also he is good. I am an instance of it. I 
 have trampled the world under my feet, laughed at fear, and derided 
 danger. Through millions of fierce savages, over parching deserts, the 
 freezing north, the everlasting ice, and stormy seas, have I passed without 
 harm. How good is my God ! What rich subjects have I for praise, love, 
 and adoration. I have just returned to England, from my travels of two 
 years, and am going away into Africa to examine that continent. I expect 
 to be absent three years. I shall be in Egypt as soon as I can get there, 
 and after that, go into unknown parts. I have full and perfect health. 
 Remember me to my brothers and sisters. Desire them to remember me, 
 for if heaven permits, I shall see them again. I pray God to bless and 
 comfort you all. Farewell." 
 
 The character he intended to assume in Africa, was that of a trader in a 
 caravan, which was very appropriate ; such persons crossing and recrossing 
 the country continually, in that position without molestation. 
 
 On the 30th of June, 1788, Ledyard. for the last time, left London, en 
 route for Africa. On the morning of his departure, in conversation with a 
 friend, he spoke as follows, concerning his checkered life: "I am accus 
 tomed to hardships. I have known both hunger and nakedness, to the 
 utmost extremity of human suffering. I have known what it was to have 
 food given me as charity to a madman ; and I have at times been obliged to 
 shelter myself under the miseries of that character, to avoid a heavier 
 calamity. My distresses have been greater than I have owned, or ever will 
 own to any man. Such evils are terrible to bear ; but they never yet had 
 power to turn me from my purpose. If I live, I will faithfully perform, in 
 its utmost extent, my engagement to the society ; and if I perish in the 
 attempt, my honor will be safe, for death cancels all bonds." 
 
 Ledyard proceeded direct to Paris, where he had encouraging interviews 
 with Jefferson and Lafayette. From thence he went to Marseilles, and 
 crossed the Mediterranean to Alexandria, in Egypt, and passed up the Nile 
 to Cairo. From Cairo he wrote the association a letter, which showed his 
 zeal in their cause, and his great aims in life. " Money ! " exclaims he, " is 
 a vile slave ! I have at present an economy of a more exalted kind to 
 observe. I have the eyes of some of the first men, of the first kingdom OB 
 
108 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 earth turned upon me. I am engaged by those very men, in the most im 
 portant object that any private individual can be engaged in. I have their 
 approbation to acquire or to lose; and their esteem, also, which I prize 
 beyond everything, except the independent idea of serving mankind. 
 Should rashness or desperation carry me through, whatever fame the vain 
 and injudicious might bestow, I should not accept of it ; it is the good and 
 great I look to Fame bestowed by them is altogether different, and ia 
 closely allied to a Well done, from God." 
 
 But little remains to be said of John Ledyard ; what toil, suffering, and 
 hardship could not do, was accomplished by disease. Expecting soon to 
 start with the caravan for Sinnaar, and ardently anxious to accomplish his 
 mission to the satisfaction of the association, he wrote a long letter to Jeffer 
 son, in the course of which he said : " From Cairo, I am to travel southwest 
 about three hundred miles, to a black king. Then my present conductors 
 will leave me to my fate. Beyond, I suppose, I shall go alone. I expect 
 to cut the continent across, between the parallels of twelve and twenty 
 degrees of north latitude. If possible, I shall write you from the kingdom 
 of this black gentleman." 
 
 This was the last letter ever known to have been written by Ledyard to 
 anyone ; the next arrivals from Cairo, conveyed the mournful intelligence of 
 his death. Exposed, as he was, to the heat of the tropics and uncongenial 
 atmospheric influences, in the midst of the sickly season, he became the 
 victim of a severe bilious attack. To relieve it, he took a large dose of 
 vitriolic acid, which produced an intense burning in the brain, that threatened 
 the most serious consequences. Resort was had to a tartar emetic, with 
 hopes that the acid would be evacuated. It was of no avail. He con 
 tinued to sink rapidly, though the best medical skill that could be had was 
 called into requisition. He died in November, 1788, in the 38th year of 
 his age. 
 
 Ledyard was amiable, and kind, grateful for benefits, humane, and re 
 markable for his disinterestedness. His primary object in his travels, was to 
 benefit mankind by his discoveries. Mr. Beaujoy, the secretary of the 
 African Association, thus describes him : " To those who have never seen 
 Mr. Ledyard, it may not, perhaps, be uninteresting to know that his person, 
 though scarcely exceeding the middle size, was remarkably expressive of 
 activity and strength, arid that his manners, though unpolished, were neither 
 unpleasing nor uncivil. Little attentive to difference of rank, he seemed to 
 consider all men as his equals, and as such he respected them. His genius, 
 thougn uncultivated and irregular, was original and comprehensive. Ardent 
 in, his wishes, yet calm in his deliberations ; daring in his purposes, but 
 guarded in his measures ; impatient of control, yet capable of strong endu 
 rance ; adventurous beyond the conception of ordinary men, yet wary and 
 considerate, and attentive to all precautions, he appeared to be formed by 
 nature for achievements of hardihood and peril." 
 

THE HEROIC ADVENTURE 
 
 FRANCIS HUGER, 
 
 fOJJNQ MAN OF SOUTH CAROLINA, AND OF HIS COMPANION, DR. BOLLMAN, IN THE1I 
 ATTEMPTED RESCUE OF GENERAL LA FAYETTE, FROM AN 
 
 AUSTRIAN PRISON AT OLMUTZ. 
 
 DURING the frenzy of the French Revolution, nearly every citizen, emi 
 nent for worth or public services, became, in turn, the object of suspicion 
 and denunciation to the violent men, who for a time controlled the destinies 
 of France. La Fayette, whose devotion to the cause of liberty had been 
 proved by his services and sacrifices in aid of the revolted American Colo 
 nies, did not escape the common fate of the patriotic and the good in that 
 dark day of distrust and terror. 
 
 He was denounced in the National Assembly, and Danton and Brissot 
 had the extreme satisfaction of procuring a decree of accusation to be passed 
 against him in that body. New commissioners were appointed and dis 
 patched to apprehend him, his property was confiscated, a price was set on 
 his head, and all citizens were charged to assist in apprehending him, and 
 were authorized to kill him wherever he should be found. Finding that no 
 reliance could be placed on his army for protection, but that defection and 
 desertion, through the influence of the Jacobin terror, were increasing,; and 
 seeing, under such circumstances, no prospect of benefiting his country, La 
 Fayette decided on flight as the only means of saving his life. 
 
 With -this intention, he invited three of his friends, Generals Latour 
 Maubourg, Alexander Lameth, and Bureau de Puzy, the commandant of 
 engineers, to come to his tent at midnight on the 19th of August. It was 
 decided that they would leave an ungrateful country, governed by a faction, 
 which sought for their blood, and that they would cross Brabant and reach 
 Holland, from whence they could embark for the United States of America. 
 
 Early the next day, La Fayette, accompanied by his three friends, who had 
 been members of the National Assembly with him, and who alone were in 
 the secret, together with their aids-de-camp, and a part of their staffj" set 
 off on horseback as if to reconnoiter. Having arrived at an inn, two or 
 three leagues from the camp, they dismounted and entered the house, plac 
 ing sentinels at the door to prevent a surprise from the enemy s patrols. 
 General La Fayette then confided to these officers, twenty-three in number, 
 the state of the country; the feelings of the army; the before unknown 
 facts, that the Jacobin society, and the municipality of Paris, had devoted 
 him to proscription, that the corporation of the same city had caused the 
 dies of the medal, which was to have been struck to his honor, to be broken 
 
 (109) 
 
110 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 by the hands of the common executioner, and that he was declared to be an 
 enemy to his country, and a price was set upon his head. He finished, by 
 informing them of his determination to quit the country for a time, and 
 that he should consider as his enemy any man who should propose to march 
 against her. 
 
 Notwithstanding this injunction, these young soldiers unanimously de 
 clared, that there was but one way left, to save their country and their 
 general, which was t3 march directly to Paris, and disperse the Jacobin 
 faction at once. But the general soon convinced them that such a step 
 ought not to be thought of, and as none of them had been proscribed except 
 himself, he thought that all had better return peaceably and immediately to 
 the camp, lest their absence should excite suspicion. 
 
 Notwithstanding all his remonstrances to the contrary, several of them 
 determined to leave France, and share the fate of their general, whatever 
 it might be. These young men were the two Maubourgs, Bureau de Puzy, 
 Lameth, Masson, Rene, Pillet, and Cardingan. His faithful valet, Ponten- 
 nier, and Augustus one of his servants, who afterward voluntarily shared all 
 his imprisonments from Luxembourg to Olmutz, asked the liberty to follow 
 their master. The rest were persuaded to return, and take with them La 
 Fayette s escort, consisting of one hundred and fifty cavalry. 
 
 La Fayette then set out with his seven companions, harassed with the 
 most trying reflections upon his own situation, that of his family and coun 
 try, and upon the danger which threatened him. After a rapid and unin 
 terrupted journey, they arrived, toward night, in the neighborhood of an 
 advanced guard of the Austrian army. Here they halted, and deliberated 
 upon the steps to be taken. It was near eleven o clock at night, none of them 
 knew the road, and the darkness was such as to make it impossible to find it. 
 In this state of embarrassment, rendered more so from the fear that the French 
 were in pursuit of them, they determined at all hazards to proceed, and, 
 without discovering their names or rank, to demand permission of the 
 Austrian commander to pass him, with the intention of taking refuge in 
 Holland, at that time a neutral territory. This resolution being taken, 
 Colonel de Puzy, the only individual of the party who spoke German, ad 
 vanced toward the Austrian officer, who received him very politely. He 
 informed him that he and his companions had deserted from the French 
 army, finding themselves compelled to leave the country, in consequence of 
 intrigue and faction, and that they desired a safe passage into Holland. 
 The officer expressed his regret, that he was unable to give a decided an 
 swer, without first consulting his superior; but that, in the meantime, he 
 and his friends were welcome to rest and take refreshments in his tent, as 
 the night was stormy. De Puzy having returned and made his report, they 
 set out for the Austrian headquarters, and finally were conducted to Lux 
 embourg. 
 
 Immediately on their arrival at this fortress, they were recognized by a 
 crowd of refugees, who, looking on La Fayette as one of the first promoters 
 of the revolution, treated them with the utmost insolence and contempt 
 Among the most virulent of these enraged emigrants, was Prince da 
 Lambes, who rendered himself notorious by his abuse of La Fayette. 
 As soon as the Governor of Luxembourg recognized La Fayette. he con 
 
OF AMERICANS. HI 
 
 fined each of the party in separate rooms, at the inn where they had 
 stopped, and placed sentinels at their doors. They protested in vain against 
 these proceedings and Avrote to the Duke of Saxe Tschen, for the purpose 
 of gaining their release, and obtaining passports. His refusal was accompa 
 nied with a savage and useless threat of a public execution; and they re 
 mained in a state of close confinement, until the Governor of Luxembourg 
 received orders from the Court of Vienna, to deliver them into the hands of 
 the King of Prussia. They were transported in a common cart, like crimi 
 nals, under a strong escort of cavalry, during the night, from Luxembourg to 
 Wesel, being confined in the common jails of the country, whenever it 
 was found necessary to stop. La Fayette s valet, only, was permitted to 
 ride in the cart with his master. The Austrians sold their horses and arms, 
 and retained the money. 
 
 At Wesel, the populace were permitted to insult them in the most savage 
 manner. Here they were put in irons, placed in separate cells in the castle, 
 deprived of all intercourse with each other, and told that the king intended 
 to have them hanged, as wretches who deserved no favor. From Wesel, 
 they were again transported in a cart to Magdeburg, where they were con 
 fined a year, in a dark subterranean dungeon, and during this time, all in 
 formation from their families was denied them. 
 
 The King of Prussia now ordered La Fayette to be transported to Silesia ; 
 General Maubourg solicited and obtained permission to accompany him. 
 Here they were confined until about the period when a peace was settled be 
 tween France and Prussia, when they were delivered up to the Austrian 
 government, and were conveyed to Olmutz. 
 
 Here they were informed, as they were incarcerated in separate cells, that 
 they would never again see anything but the four walls of their prison 
 house, that they would never again hear a human voice ; their very names 
 were proscribed, and that in future they would be designated in dispatches 
 to government by the numbers of their respective cells ; and lest they 
 should destroy themselves, knives, forks, and everything that could be 
 used for that purpose, would be interdicted. 
 
 The three prisoners they abandoned to their miserable reflections, were 
 immured in the dungeons of the ancient castle of the Jesuits, the walls of 
 which were twelve feet thick, and into which air is admitted through an 
 opening two feet square, which is secured at each end by transverse massive 
 iron bars. Immediately before thes6 loopholes was a broad ditch, which 
 was covered with water only when it rained, and at other times was a stag 
 nant marsh, from which a poisonous effluvium was constantly exhaling ; 
 and beyond this, were the outer walls of the castle, which prevented the 
 slightest breeze from passing to the captives. On these outer walls were, in 
 the daytime, four, and at night eight, sentinels, with loaded muskets, con 
 stantly watching the prisoners, and forbidden, on pain of one hundred 
 lashes, to speak a word with them, and with orders to shoot them dead, if 
 they attempted to escape. The cellar of this castle had a large saloon, two 
 hundred feet long and twelve wide, in which was a guard, consisting of an 
 officer and twenty-five men, and a corporal and four soldiers, who alter 
 nately kept guard before the door of the prisoners. These soldiers, while 
 ou duty, were forbidden either to speak, sing, or whistle. 
 
112 ADVENTUEES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 As this castle had served as a prison for four years previously to La Fay- 
 otto s confinement, there had been constructed for each cell two doors, one 
 of iron and the other of wood, near two feet thick. Both were covered 
 with bolts, and bars, and double padlocks. Every time the inspector of the 
 prison entered, the whole guard stood to their arms. Four men were posted 
 on each side of the door ; the sergeant, with his sword drawn, remained 
 without, while the officer of the guard entered the inner door, with his sword 
 also drawn. The men crossed their bayonets, while the inspector examined 
 every corner of their cells with the greatest minuteness. When the jailer 
 entered with their wretched pittance, twice a day, it was scrupulously ex 
 amined, particularly the bread, which was crumbled to pieces by the officer 
 of the guard, to discover if there was any note or communication contained 
 in it. A wretched bed of rotten straw filled with vermin, together with a 
 broken chair and an old table, formed the whole furniture of each apart 
 ment. 
 
 The cell s were eight or ten paces deep, and six or eight wide ; and when 
 it rained, the water ran through the loopholes, off the walls, in such quan 
 tities, that the prisoners would sometimes find themselves in the morning 
 wet to the skin. 
 
 Such is the shocking account given by General Ducondray Holstein, and 
 as he states, on the verbal authority of the prisoners themselves. 
 
 The sufferings of La Fayette in this dreary abode, brought him to the 
 borders of the grave. " His frame was wasted by disease, of which, for a 
 long period, not the slightest 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 Fayetteism, as adherence to the constitution was 
 called, was punished with death." 
 
 But a man so distinguished in the world, and so endeared to the friends 
 of civil liberty, though shut up in a dungeon, and deprived of communica 
 tion with human beings, was not forgotten. The American ministers to 
 foreign courts, were instructed to intercede for his liberation. The envoy 
 from the United States to the Court at St. James, exerted himself for the 
 same purpose. The Count Lally Tolendal, who sat with La Fayette in the 
 National Assembly, and who admired his principles and his virtues, also 
 made unwearied exertions to effect his enlargement. Washington, when 
 President of the United States, wrote to the Emperor of Austria a private 
 letter, laying La Fayette s case before him, and requesting his permission 
 that he might be liberated, and come to America. The following is a part 
 of that letter: 
 
 "It will readily occur to your majesty, that occasions may sometimes 
 exist, on which official considerations would constrain the chief of a nation 
 to be silent and passive in relation even to objects which affect his sensibil 
 ity, and claim his interposition as a man. Finding myself precisely in 
 this situation at present, I have taken the liberty of writing this private 
 letter to your majesty, being persuaded that my motives will also be my 
 apology for it. 
 
 In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong and cordia. 
 sense of the services rendered to them by the Marquis de La Fayette ; and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 113 
 
 my friendship for him has been constant and sincere. It is natural, there- 
 fore, that I should sympathize with him and his family in their misfor 
 tunes ; and endeavor to mitigate the calamities they experience, among 
 which his present confinement is not the least distressing. 
 
 I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me only to submit 
 to your majesty s consideration, whether the long imprisonment, and the 
 confiscation of his estate, and the indigence and dis persion of his family, 
 and the painful anxieties incident to all these circumstances, do not form 
 an assemblage of sufferings which recommend him to the mediation of hu 
 manity? Allow me, Sir, on this occasion, to be its organ ; and to entreat 
 that he may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions as 
 your majesty may think it expedient to prescribe. 
 
 As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under similar circumstances, I 
 would not grant, your majesty will do me the justice to believe, that this 
 request appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magna 
 nimity and wisdom, which form the basis of sound policy and durable 
 glory." 
 
 To this humane and magnanimous request, his majesty the emperor 
 either returned no answer at all, or such a one as made Washington under 
 stand that he declined setting the prisoner at liberty, or negotiating further 
 on the subject. 
 
 In 1793, Count Lally Tolendal, then in London, engaged Dr. Bollman, 
 a Hanoverian of great sagacity, courage, and perseverance, to attempt the 
 liberation of La Fayette. Dr. Bollman had before been employed by 
 Madame de Stael, to effect the escape of Count Norbonne from France, who, 
 in the reign of terror, had been proscribed. This he had performed, having, 
 with uncommon address, conveyed the count to England. But Dr. Boll- 
 man s first attempt was so unsuccessful, that after all his exertions, he did 
 little more than to ascertain that the government of Prussia had delivered 
 La Fayette over to that of Austria. But where he was or whether he was 
 still alive, were circumstances which Dr. Bollman found it impossible to 
 ascertain. He therefore returned again to London, and reported to the 
 friends of the prisoner the little information he had obtained. 
 
 But the friends of La Fayette were not discouraged. In June, 1794, they 
 again sent Dr. Bollman to Germany, to ascertain what had been his fate, 
 and if he were still alive, to endeavor to procure his escapes. With great 
 difficulty he traced the French prisoners to the Prussian frontier, and then 
 ascertained that an Austrian escort had received them, and taken the road 
 to Olmutz. At Olmutz, Dr. Bollman ascertained that several state prisoners 
 were kept in the citadel, with a degree of caution and mystery, which must 
 have been not unlike that used by the half-fabulous personage in the Iron 
 Mask. 
 
 The following interesting account of Dr. Bollman s second visit to the 
 continent, and the attempt to deliver La Fayette, is extracted from the 
 " Edinburgh Annual Kegister," for 1809. " The narrative," says the editor, 
 "was drawn up by the writer from personal communications with Mr. 
 Huger." 
 
 La Foyette had dragged on two miserable years in his solitary prison, 
 when a stranger and a foreigner stepped forward from pure motives of com- 
 
H4- ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 passion, and an anxious wish to be of service to a man who had signalized 
 himself in the cause of liberty. Bollman was a Hanoverian by birth, 
 young, active, intrepid, and intelligent. He repaired alone and on foot to 
 Olmutz, to gain such information as might enable him to judge of the best 
 means to execute the purpose he had in view, to assist La Fayette . n making 
 his escape from the power of Austria. He soon found that, without an 
 able coadjutor the difficulties which presented themselves were insurmount 
 able. He was forced, therefore, for the present to abandon his design, until 
 ho should be so fortunate as to find a man equally zealous with himself, 
 and with ability sufficient to execute the hazardous plan he had formed. 
 Accident threw in his way the person in the world best suited to the enter 
 prise by nature and education. At Vienna he entered into the society of 
 young Americans, whom he thought most likely, from their veneration for 
 the character of La Fayette, to dare such an undertaking. He soon singled 
 out one, to whom, after proper precautions, he imparted his secret. Hugei 
 entered into and adopted his schemes with all the keenness of youth, and 
 that enthusiastic enterprise peculiar to the inhabitants of the new world. 
 
 Francis Huger was the son of Colonel linger, of Chraleston, South Caro 
 lina, who lost his life in the service of his country, against the British 
 troops, on the walls of the town, when besieged by General Prevost. The 
 year before his death, he had retired to a small island off the Charleston 
 Bar, with his family, for the purpose of sea-bathing. There happened one 
 evening a violent storm ; the report of cannon was heard at a distance : con 
 cluding the firing came from British ships, then cruising in those seas, it was 
 necessary to avoid giving suspicion that the island was inhabited. About 
 midnight a knocking at the door of the cottage obliged Colonel Huger to 
 open it. Two persons appeared, who, in a foreign accent, informed him 
 that their ship had been driven on shore by the violence of the wind, and 
 the crew had dispersed themselves over the island in search of assistance. 
 They were hospitably received, and provided with such necessaries as they 
 most stood in need of. When the strangers were made acquainted with the 
 quality of their host, and his political principles, they made themselves 
 and the object of their voyage known to him. The one was the Marquis 
 do La Fayette, then about eighteen, and the other an elderly gentleman, a 
 Chevalier de St. Louis, who, like another Mentor, had followed the fortunes 
 of the Young Telemachus. " They beheld," they said, " with indignation, 
 the tyranny the inhabitants of North America labored under from the 
 mother country ; and, animated with the true spirit of liberty, they were 
 resolved to espouse the cause of the congress, and either partake with them 
 the happiness of emancipation, or perish with them in the glorious effort." 
 Colonel Huger quitted the island with his guests, and, repairing to head 
 quarters, introduced them to General Washington, who gave each of them 
 a command in the continental army. Francis Huger was only four years 
 old when this happened, but the adventure remained deeply impressed on 
 his memory ; and though he had never seen La Fayette since, yet he fel * 
 the greatest attachment to his person, and the highest admiration of his 
 actions ; with ardor, therefore, he participated in Bollman s scheme for the 
 release of his favorite hero. 
 
 Thus agreed, they began their operations. It was necessary to condijct 
 
OF AMERICANS. 115 
 
 themselves with caution, for the Austrian police was vigilant, and particu.- 
 larly jealous of strangers. Huger pretended ill health, and Bollman gave 
 himself out for a physician, who on that account traveled with him. They 
 bought three of the best horses they could find, and with one servant set 
 forward on a tour. After traveling many weeks, staying some time at dif 
 ferent places, the better to conceal their purpose, and to confirm the idea 
 that curiosity was the motive of their journey, they at length reached 
 Olmutz. After viewing everything in the town, they walked into the castle 
 to see the fortifications, made themselves acquainted with the jailer, and 
 having desired permission to walk within the castle the next day, they re 
 turned to their lodging. They repeated their visits frequently, each time 
 conversing familiarly with the jailer, and sometimes making him little 
 presents. By degrees they gained his confidence, and one day, as if by ac 
 cident, asked him what prisoners he had under his care. He mentioned 
 the name of La Fayette ; without discovering any surprise, they expressed 
 a curiosity to know how he passed his time, and what indulgencies he enjoyed ; 
 they were informed that he was strictly confined, but was permitted to take 
 exercise without the walls with proper attendants, and, besides, was allowed 
 the use of books and pen, ink, and paper. They said, that as they had 
 some new publications with them, it might add to his amusement if they 
 were to lend them to him, and desired to know if they might make the 
 offer. The jailer said he thought there could be no objection, provided the 
 books were delivered open to him (the jailer), so that he might see there 
 was nothing improper in their contents. With this caution they complied, 
 and the same evening sent a book and a note to the jailer, addressed to La 
 Fayette, written in French ; who, though he did no>t understand that lan 
 guage (as it afterward appeared), yet did not suspect any treachery where 
 everything was conducted so openly. The note contained apologies for the 
 liberty they had taken ; but as they wished in any way to contribute to his 
 happiness, they hoped he would attentively read the book they had sont, 
 and if any passages in it particularly engaged his notice, they begged be 
 would let them know his opinion. He received the note, and finding it 
 was not expressed in the usual mode of complimentary letters, conceived 
 that more was meant than met the eye. He therefore carefully perused the 
 book, and found in certain places words written with a pencil, which, being 
 put together acquainted him with the ^names, qualities, and designs of the 
 writers, and requiring his sentiments before they should proceed any fur 
 ther. He returned the book, and with it an open note, thanking them, and 
 adding, that he highly approved of and was much charmed with its con 
 tents. 
 
 Having thus begun a correspondence, seldom a day passed but open notes 
 passed between them, some of which the jailer showed to persons who 
 could read them; but, as nothing appeared that could create any suspicion, 
 the correspondence was permitted. 
 
 Their plan being at length arranged, the particulars were written wiih 
 lemon juice, and on the other side of the paper a letter of inquiry after La 
 Fayette s health, concluding with these words : Quand vous aarea hi ce 
 billet, mettez le au feu (instead of dans h feu). By holding the paper to 
 the fire the letters appeared and he was made acquainted with every ar 
 8 
 
116 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 rangement they had made. The day following was fixed upon to put the 
 plan into execution. The city of Olrautz is situated about thirty miles 
 from the frontiers of Silesia, in the midst of a plain, which, taking the 
 town as its center, extends three miles each way. The plain is bounded by 
 rising ground, covered with bushes and broken rocks ; so that a man stand 
 ing on the walls might distinctly see everything that passed on the plain. 
 Sentinels were placed for the purpose of giving an alarm when any prisoner 
 was attempting to escape, and all people were ordered to assist in retaking 
 him ; great rewards were likewise due to the person who arrested a pris 
 oner. It seemed therefore scarcely possible to succeed in such an attempt. 
 Aware of these difficulties, Boljman and Huger were not intimidated, but 
 took their measures with the greater caution. 
 
 Under pretense that his health required air and exercise, La Fayette had 
 obtained permission to ride out upon the plain every day in an open cabrio 
 let, accompanied by an officer, and attended by an armed soldier, who 
 mounted behind by way of guard. During these excursions he had gained 
 the confidence of the officer so far, that when the carriage was at a distancs 
 from the walls they used to quit it, and walk together. 
 
 The plan determined upon was this : Bollman and Huger were to rid.e 
 out of town on horseback, the latter leading a third horse ; as neither of 
 them knew La Fayette, a signal was agreed upon at their meeting. La 
 Fayette was to endeavor to gain as great a distance as possible from the 
 town, and, as usual, to quit the carriage with the officer, and draw him im 
 perceptibly as far from it as he could, without exciting his suspicions. The 
 two friends were then to approach, and, if necessary, to overpower the officer, 
 mount La Fayette upon the horse Huger led, and ride away to Beautropp, 
 fifteen miles distant, where a chaise and horses awaited to convey thorn to 
 Trappaw, the nearest town, within the Prussian dominions, about thirty 
 miles from Olmutz, where they would be safe from pursuit. In the morn 
 ing Huger sent his trusty servant to endeavor to learn the precise time that 
 La Fayette left the castle. After a tedious delay, he returned, and told 
 them that the carriage had just passed the gates. 
 
 With agitated hearts they set out ; having gained the plain, they could 
 perceive no carriage; they rode slowly on, till they had nearly reached the 
 woody country, but still no carriage appeared. Alarmed lest some unfore 
 seen accident should have led to a discovery, they hesitated ; but, recollect 
 ing that their motions might be distinctly seen from the walls, they retraced 
 their steps, and had arrived at a short distance from the town, when they 
 beheld the long wished for cabriolet pass through the gates, with two per 
 sons in it, one in the Austrian uniform, and a musqueteer mounted behind. 
 On passing, they gave the preconcerted signal, which was returned, and the 
 carriage moved on. They continued their ride toward the town, then turned, 
 and slowly followed the carriage. They loitered, in order to give La Fay 
 ette time to execute his part of the agreement. They observed the two 
 gentlemen descend from the carriage, and walk from it arm-in-arm. They 
 approached gradually, and perceiving that La Fayette and the officer ap 
 peared to be engaged in earnest conversation about the officer s sword, 
 which La Fayette had at the time in his hand, they thought this the favor 
 able moment, and put spurs to their horses. The noise of their approach 
 
OP AMERICANS. 117 
 
 alarmed ths officer, who, turning round, and seeing two horsemen coming 
 up full gallop, he hastened to join the cabriolet, pulling La Fayette with 
 him ; finding resistance, he endeavored to get possession of his sword, and 
 a struggle ensued. Huger arrived at this, moment ; " You are free," said he ; 
 "seize this horse, and fortune be our guide." 
 
 He had scarce spoken, when the gleam of the sun upon the blade of the 
 Bword startled the horse. He broke his bridle, and fled precipitately over 
 the plain. Bollman rode after to endeavor to take him. Meantime Huger, 
 with a gallantry and generosity seldom equaled, but never excelled, in 
 sisted on La Fayette s mounting his horse, and making all speed to the place 
 of rendezvous : "Lose no time, the alarm is given, the peasants are assem 
 bling, save yourself." La Fayette mounted his horse, left Huger on foot, 
 and was soon out of sight. Bollman had in vain pursued the frightened 
 horse, and perceiving he had taken the road to the town, gave up the chase, 
 and returned to Huger, who got up behind him, and they galloped away 
 together. They had not gone far when the horse, unequal to such a bur 
 den, stumbled and fell, and Bollman was so bruised with the fall, that with 
 difficulty he could rise from the ground. The gallant Huger assisted hia 
 friend upon the horse, and again forgetting all selfish considerations, desired 
 him to follow and assist La Fayette, and leave him to make his escape on 
 foot, which he said he could easily do, as he was a good runner, and the 
 woody country was close at hand. Bollman with reluctance consented. 
 
 Upon the approach of the horsemen, the soldier, who had remained \vith 
 the cabriolet, instead of coming to the assistance of the officer, ran back to 
 the town ; but long before he arrived the alarm was given ; for the whole 
 of the transaction had been observed from the walls the cannon fired, and 
 the country was raised. Bollman easily evaded his pursuers, by telling 
 them he was himself in pursuit. Huger was not so fortunate ; he had been 
 marked by a party, who never lost sight of him ; yet his hunters being on 
 foot like himself, he might have reached his covert, had they not been 
 joined \>y others who were fresh in the chase ; they gained ground upon 
 him, and at the moment he had reached a place where he hoped he might 
 rest awhile, quite exhausted with fatigue and breathless, he sunk to the 
 earth, and a peasant came up ; he offered him his purse to assist his escape ; 
 the Austrian snatched the money with one hand, and seized him with the 
 other, calling to his companions to come to his help. Resistance was vain, 
 and the intrepid Huger was conveyed back to Olmutz in triumph, inwardly 
 consoling himself with the glorious idea, that he had been the cause of res 
 cuing from tyranny and misery a man he esteemed one of the first charac 
 ters upon earth. He was shut up in a dungeon of the castle as a state 
 prisoner. 
 
 Meanwhile La FayeUe took the road he was directed, and arrived without 
 any obstacle at a small town about ten miles from Olmutz ; here the road 
 divided ; that leading to Trappaw lay to the right unfortunately he took 
 the left. Pie had scarce left the town, when perceiving the road turning too 
 much to the left, he suspected he had mistaken his way, and inquired of a 
 person he met the way to Beautropp. The man, eyeing him with a look 
 of curiosity, at length told him he had missed his way, but directed him 
 to take another, which he said would soon lead him right. This man, 
 
118 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 from La Fayette s appearance, his horse in a foam, his foreign accent, and 
 the inquiries he made, suspected him to be a prisoner making his escape ; 
 he therefore directed him a road, which by a circuit led him back to the 
 town, ran himself to the magistrate, and told him his suspicions ; so that 
 when La Fayette thought himself upon the point of regaining the road 
 which would soon secure his retreat, he found himself surrounded by a 
 guard of armed men, who, regardless of his protestations, Conveyed him to 
 the magistrate. He was however so collected, that he gave the most 
 plausible answers to the interrogations that were put to him ; he said that he 
 was an officer of excise belonging to Trappaw, and that having friends at 
 Olmutz, he had been there upon a visit ; had been detained there by indis 
 position longer than he intended, and, as his time of leave of absence was 
 expired, he was hastening back, and begged he might not be detained, for if 
 he did not reach Trappaw that day, he was afraid his absence might be no 
 ticed, and he should lose his office. The magistrate was so much prepos 
 sessed in his favor by this account, and by the readiness of his answers to 
 every question, that he expressed himself perfectly satisfied, and was going 
 to dismiss him, when the door of an inner room opened, and a young man 
 entered with papers for the magistrate to sign. While this was doing the 
 young man fixed his eyes upon La Fayette, and immediately whispered to 
 the magistrate ; " Who do you say he is ? " " The General La Fayette." 
 " How do you know him ? " "I was present when the general was deliv 
 ered up by the Prussians to the Austrians ; this is the man, I cannot be mis 
 taken." 
 
 La Fayette entreated to be heard. The magistrate told him it was useless 
 for him to speak ; he must consent immediately to be conveyed to Olmutz, 
 and his identity would then be ascertained. Dismayed and confounded, he 
 submitted to his hard fate, was carried back to Olmutz, and the same day, 
 which rose to him with the fairest prospects of happiness and liberty, beheld 
 him, at the close of it, plunged in still deeper misery and imprisonment. 
 Bollman, having eluded the search of his pursuers, arrived at the place 
 where the chaise had been ordered to wait their coming. Finding it still 
 there, and yet no appearance of La Fayette, he foreboded mischief. With 
 as much patience as he could command, he remained till evening, not yet 
 giving up all hope of a fortunate issue to their adventure. He dismissed 
 the chaise, however, and made a circuitous journey, in hopes his friends 
 might have escaped by a different route ; he could gain no information 
 whatever, till, on the third day, a rumor of La Fayette having been retaken 
 in attempting his escape, dissipated his hopes ; and, anxious to learn the 
 truth, he took the road to Olmutz. He soon was told the melancholy tale, 
 with the addition, that his friend Huger had shared a similar fate. In des 
 pair at having been the primary cause of his misfortune, and determining to 
 share it with him, he voluntarily surrendered himself, and was committed a 
 prisoner to the castle. 
 
 Thus, by a train of most untoward accidents, which no prudence co ild 
 foresee or guard against, failed a plan so long meditated, and so skillfully 
 projected. The reader s attention must now be confined chiefly to Huger. 
 The day after his entrance into the castle, Huger received notice from the 
 jailer to prepare for an examination before the chief magistrate of the citr. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 119 
 
 As he was not conscious of having committed any very heinous crime, 
 he was under no apprehensions for his life ; but expected that, after he had 
 told his story, and declared the motive of his actions, his judge might sub 
 ject him to some slight punishment, perhaps a short imprisonment ; what 
 then was his amazement, when he heard himself accused of having entered 
 into a conspiracy against the Austrian government. 
 
 The examination was carried on by means of an interpreter, a young 
 man of a benign aspect, who seemed to compassionate his situation, and 
 who, when he gave such answers as he thought might tend to hurt his 
 cause, made him repeat his answers, softening their import, assuring him he 
 did not exactly express himself in proper terms, and desiring him to recol 
 lect whether he did not mean to answer in such and such a manner. Huger 
 saw his good intentions, and determined to rely on his judgment, especially 
 after he had heard him say in a low voice, "I am your friend." After this, 
 and many subsequent examinations, the magistrates informed him he must 
 not expect pardon, but advised him to prepare for the worst. This exhor 
 tation, so often repeated, began to have some effect upon him, and consider 
 ing he was in the power of an absolute monarch, whose will was superior 
 to law, he could not shake off some melancholy presages. His place of 
 confinement was a loathsome dungeon, without light ; he was fed with the 
 coarsest food chained to the floor during the night his own clothes taken 
 from him, and others sent him that had already been worn by many an un 
 fortunate prisoner. Thus he dragged on the first three months of his con 
 finement. After that time, he was removed to a better room, into which 
 glimmered a borrowed light; better clothes, and more wholesome food 
 were given him, and his circumstances, in every respect, were improved. 
 But still he was uncertain as to his fate, and the jailer was the only human 
 being that visited him. One day he was surprised with the appearance of 
 
 his young friend the interpreter, Mr. W . Nothing could exceed his joy 
 
 at once more beholding a kindly human face. He informed Huger, that tho 
 court of Austria had believed that all the garrison of Olmutz had been en 
 gaged in the conspiracy ; that many people had been arrested on suspicion ; 
 for it could not be believed, that two such young men as he and Bollman 
 could have formed and executed so daring a plan, without the aid of others ; 
 but as no proofs had hitherto appeared, it was determined to bring them 
 shortly to trial, and for that purpose, lawyers were to be sent from Vienna, 
 to assist the magistrates of the city. Huger now, for the first time, learned 
 the complete failure of their scheme, and that Bollman was under the same 
 roof with him. However sad the reflection was, that his friend s sufferings 
 equaled his own, yet he could not express the joy he felt at being so near 
 him. Soon after, he discovered that he inhabited the room above him. 
 Thenceforward his treatment was much less rigorous ; even the jailer, who 
 till lately had observed a profound silence, relaxed his caution, and came 
 frequently to visit him ; and though a man of few words, yet as his pres 
 ence broke the dreary solitude, he felt happy whenever he made hi 
 appearance. Many were the experiments he tried, to hold communicatio 
 with Bollman, and at length he succeeded. 
 
 He discovered that the window which threw a borrowed light into hi 
 cell, served likewise to throw light into that of Bollman. He picked a 
 
120 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 piece of lime from the wall, and with it scratched a few words upon a 
 black silk handkerchief he wore about his neck ; then fixing it upon a 
 stick, he climbed up the side of the room, and raised the stick as near tho 
 common window as he could, till it had attracted the attention of Bollman, 
 who, after many efforts, made himself master of it, and returned an answer 
 by the same method. Delighted with having overcome this difficulty, they 
 
 never suffered a day to pass without some communication. To W , 
 
 they were indebted for the means of rendering their situation still more 
 comfortable, by engaging the jailer s wife in their interest ; a few presents, 
 and now and then a small piece of money, induced her secretly to bring 
 them books, food, wine, and warmer clothes ; and at length to procure a 
 meeting between the two friends, at first short, but by degrees become more 
 hardy, they were permitted to pass some part of every day together. The 
 following is an extract of a letter, written by Huger to a near friend and 
 relation, which, as it describes his situation and feelings in a forcible man 
 ner, ought not to be omitted. 
 
 "I am equally ignorant how this affair may have been represented, or 
 what may be thought, in these times, of an attempt to deliver M. de la 
 Fayette. The motives which, however, induced me to engage in it, cannot 
 be judged by those who examine all similar enterprises according to their 
 success or failure. Believe me, it was neither unreasonably undertaken, nor 
 rashly executed, but failed from accidents which prudence could not foresee. 
 To the mortification of a failure, were added the miseries of a prison, 
 which, in Austria, exceed anything known in England. In a small room, 
 just long enough for my bed of straw, with eight-pence a day for my sup 
 port ; at night chained to the ground, and without books or light, I passed 
 the first three months of my captivity. After this time my situation be 
 came gradually better, but I was not allowed to write to my friends to be 
 delivered from my chains, or permitted the smallest intercourse with the 
 world, till a fortnight before my release. 
 
 " In such a situation, the consciousness alone of having done nothing dis 
 honest or dishonorable, could afford that internal satisfaction, and inspire 
 that stern patience, necessary to support calmly so sudden and severe a re 
 verse of fortune ; but it has convinced me, that a mind at peace with itself, 
 can in no situation be unhappy. Daily habit also soon removed the un 
 pleasant sensations excited by disagreeable and unaccustomed objects, and 
 the mind, which no power can restrain, will always derive consolation from 
 hope, and rarely want some object to be actively employed upon. My 
 friend and companion, Mr. Bollman, was in the same house, and our efforts 
 to establish some communication, or to procure a momentary interview, af 
 forded exercise for invention ; and, in proportion to the difficulty of effecting 
 our wishes, the smallest success rewarded days of projects and expectation. 
 I once, also, found means to disengage nwself from my chains, and felt an 
 emotion beyond the pow^r of words to describe. My long captivity haa 
 not then been wholly miserable, nor without some pleasure." 
 
 At length, at the end of*seven months, they were informed that the 
 crown lawyers had arrived. The government by this time was satisfied, 
 that the attempt to liberate La Fayette was planned independently by two 
 adventurers, and that it was not a plot laid by the secret agents of France^ 
 
OF AMERICANS. 121 
 
 in which the garrison at Olmutz at least was concerned, if it wero not more 
 widely extended ; and upon their trial, the sole fact of having attempted to 
 rescue a state prisoner was alleged against them. 
 
 This fact being proved, they were remanded to their prison, to await the 
 sentence which was to be pronounced against them by the supreme magis 
 trate. They were now, however, permitted every indulgence but liberty. 
 
 It was some days before they heard from W , and when he came, they 
 
 were astonished and confounded to hear from him, that their punishment 
 was intended to be imprisonment for life. He however consoled them by 
 hinting, that if they could by any means procure money, this sentence 
 might be changed to one much less severe, as it remained with the magis 
 trate to pass what sentence he thought proper, or even to release them en 
 tirely. Bollman had no fortune, and as Huger had no credit in Austria, it 
 would be a long time before he could receive a remittance from London. 
 W , their guardian angel, promised to do all he could for them. 
 
 In the vicinity of Olmutz resided a Russian nobleman, of most polished 
 
 manners, joined to the greatest benevolence of heart. With him W 
 
 enjoyed a perfect intimacy and friendship ; they were congenial souls. 
 
 \V had made him acquainted with the whole of their story ; through 
 
 him he had been able to administer so frequently to their comfort ; and he 
 now nobly offered to advance them whatever money they might want, to ac 
 complish their release, and to defray their expenses to Hamburg. Having 
 thus removed the greatest difficulty, his next care was to sound the senti 
 ments of the magistrate. This he could easily effect, as, in the capacity of 
 interpreter, he had constant communication with him. He soon discerned 
 that the magistrate was not averse to his speaking in their favor: and when 
 he artfully insinuated that a large reward would certainly attend his de 
 claring himself inclined to pardon, he found himself listened to with more 
 attention. Having gained this point, he very soon came to an eclaircisse- 
 
 ment. The magistrate made an exorbitant demand ; W said it was 
 
 useless for him to go to the prisoners with such terms, and as he knew ex 
 actly the state of their finances, he could at once mention what they had to 
 give, and therefore the utmost he could expect. This sum was fifty pieces. 
 
 He refused to comply for less than a hundred. In answer to this, W 
 
 desired him to consider, that if he delayed his determination, he might lose 
 his prize altogether, for that great interest was making at Vienna for the re 
 lease of the prisoners, which he had no doubt would succeed, as among 
 others, the English and American ambassadors had exerted themselves in 
 their favor. This upright magistrate at last yielded to the impulse of ava 
 rice, and p.greed that, if the prisoners would send him the money before 
 the) left the prison, they should be released the next day. To this he an 
 swered that they were so distrustful of all about them, that he was certain 
 they would rather await the result of the petition at Vienna, than part with 
 their little stock of money at an uncertainty, but added, that he himself 
 would become their security, and be answerable to him for the money in 
 
 case they did not pay it. To this he agreecj^and W was authorized to 
 
 negotiate with the prisoners. All matters being soon settled, the term of 
 their imprisonment was first fixed at fourteen years, then shortened to seven, 
 oon after to one, then to a month, and lastly to a week ; at the expiration 
 
122 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of which they were released from prison. They immediately repaired to 
 the house of the magistrate, to return him thanks for the many indulgences 
 he had allowed them, and upon shaking hands with him, the stipulated 
 sum was put into his hands. It is not to be supposed they made a long 
 stay at Olmutz ; no longer than was necessary to pour out their grateful 
 acknowledgments to the Russian nobleman, and above all, to the noble- 
 
 minded, generous W , to whose kindness they owed all the comforti 
 
 they had experienced in prison, and to whose friendly and humane exer 
 tions they were ultimately indebted for their liberation. 
 
 " La Fayette, in the meantime, was thrown back into his obscure and ig 
 nominious sufferings, with hardly a hope that they could be terminated 
 except with his life. During the winter of 1794-5, he was reduced 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 in 
 crease his misery, he was made to believe that he was reserved for public 
 execution, and that his chivalrous deliverers had already perished on a scaf 
 fold ; while, at the same time, he was not permitted to know whether his 
 family were still alive, or had fallen under the revolutionary ax, of which, 
 during the time he was out of his dungeon, he had heard such appalling ac 
 counts. 
 
 Madame La Fayette, however was nearer to him than he could imagine 
 to have been possible. She (with her two daughters) 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 daugh 
 ters, all in disguise, with American passports. They were landed at Altona, 
 and proceeding immediately to Vienna, obtained an audience witjj the em 
 peror, who refused to liberate La Fayette, 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 deprived of whatever they had brought with them, to alleviate 
 the miseries of a dungeon, and required, if they should pass its threshold, 
 never again to leave it. 
 
 Madame La Fayette s health soon sunk under the complicated sufferings 
 and privations of her loathsome imprisonment, and she wrote to Vienna for 
 permission to pass a week in the capital, 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 that if she should do so, she must never return to him. She 
 immediately and formally signed her consent and determination to share 
 his captivity in all its details." 
 
 Notwithstanding the efforts which had been made for their release, La 
 Fayette and his fellow prisoners remained immured in their dark and 
 loathsome dungeons, until August, 1797, when Bonaparte settled the treaty 
 of Campo Formio with the Austrian government. La Fayette had been 
 confined five years, and Madame La Fayette and her daughters shared hif 
 imprisonment for twenty-two months. 
 
THE TRIUMPHS 
 
 OF SOME OF THE MOST 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN INVENTORS 
 
 WHITNEY FULTON MORSE STEERS GOODYEAR COLT M COR- 
 
 MICK SINGER, ETC., TO WHICH IS ADDED A SKETCH OF 
 
 THE ATLANTIC SUB-MARINE TELEGRAPH 
 
 THIS world probably is not yet out of its babyhood. The united ages of 
 one hundred individuals who have reached the allotted period of three 
 score years and ten, sum up an amount of time greater than that which has 
 elapsed since our common parents first walked in the groves of Paradise. 
 
 Geologists demonstrate, and theologians assent to their evidence, that 
 this round globe, whereon we all unexpectedly find ourselves, was probably 
 millions of years in the process of forming for our habitation. Is it not fair, 
 then, to infer that it will be occupied by our race for at least as long a 
 period as it was preparing for them ? And this, it would seem, could be 
 well afforded ; for let us assign its duration to any vast number of ages, 
 nothing would be taken from eternity nothing from the measureless glory 
 and beneficence of HIM, with whom " one day is as a thousand years, and a 
 thousand years as one day." 
 
 Beside, to our apprehension the world thus far would appear a failure. 
 Very little has been accomplished by those for whom it was made. They 
 have not even now completely explored its surface, and the great mass are 
 yet in a savage state, which, although the natural condition, can be so only 
 in the beginning the nature of man being to progress, to reach forward and 
 improve his condition, through the aid of Art, Science, and Religion. Art, 
 mechanical and ajsthetical, which ministers to labor, comfort, and the sense 
 of the beautiful Science, the sister and partner of Art, that opens the riches 
 and workings of nature ; and Religion, which cements everything, by lifting 
 ap the soul in harmony with the righteous law of the Great Author. 
 
 That this world is not yet out of swaddling clothes, seems further evi 
 dent from the fact, that the vital truth, that " all men are born free and 
 equal," has just been discovered the great American idea, that all have the 
 same natural right to enjoy the benefits of everything which a common 
 Father has provided that no distinction in these respects exists between 
 men, and no especial consideration is due to any one, other than that which 
 arises from a mental or a moral superiority. 
 
 It is the effect of this idea of freedom and equality, united to the conse 
 quent more general diffusion of knowledge, that does so fill the breast of 
 the Americin with hope and cheerfulness, for with it bursts upon his view 
 
124: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 such a boundless field for enterprise, as never before gladdened the humar 
 heart. The great mass of mind that in other ages, and in other countries, 
 was kept compressed has here burst its bonds, and is illustrating its power. 
 The general freedom results in such an intensity of application in the in 
 dividual, and such an amount in the aggregate, that the progress made 
 seems miraculous ; a few years giving results, that once centuries did not 
 equal. In science, discovery after discovery, and in the mechanical arts, in 
 vention after invention crowd so thick upon us, that astonishment at the 
 profusion of the riches of nature open to the genius of our race, is only 
 equaled by our wonder in view of the eventual result of all these, present 
 and to be, upon our condition. 
 
 Some, in noting these great achievements of our time, think that the 
 greatest must have been attained, as though there could be a limit to the 
 wonders" that, in the profusion of an Almighty Creator, will always remain 
 for the discovery and the application of the mind of man. Were such a 
 final point reached, the human intellect would at once sink and become 
 dwarfed in the absence of the proper aliment for its highest powers. No ! 
 neither in Time nor Eternity, can there be any want of the material for the 
 development of the intellect and the affections, upward and onward forever 
 and ever. 
 
 We here give sketches of some of our countrymen, whose inventions have 
 had so much to do in changing the whole current of our national industry. 
 These, great as they are, may have been equaled, and perhaps in some in 
 stances surpassed in mental force by others not generally known, because of 
 their limited utility. Furthermore the truth doubtless is, that in a majority 
 of instances the wisest exertions of intellect have failed in this life by the 
 intervention of obstacles, as impossible to be foreseen as the passage of the 
 meteoric stone, which falling from the skies on to the track at a critical 
 moment, caused the whole train, with its precious freight of humanity, to go 
 dashing over the precipice. But failure in the plans of this life are, perhaps, 
 but temporary. Hope buoys us up with the thought that the strength 
 gained by exertion here, may be continued to the spirit-world, where the 
 ineffable glory of the Creator will be illustrated by the continuous progress 
 of those who were originally made but "a little lower than the angels." 
 
 ELI WHITNEY, THE INVENTOR OF THE COTTON-GIN. 
 
 Eli Whitney, the soli of a substantial New England fanner, was born in 
 Westborough, Massachusetts, in 1765. He early showed a genius for me 
 chanics, and employed his leisure in such pursuits. When a mere boy, in 
 the absence of his parents at church, prompted by curiosity, he took his 
 father s watch to pieces to examine its mechanism. He put it together so 
 skillfully that the machin-e ran as well as before. His father never dis 
 covered his audacity, until he himself, years after, revealed it to him. 
 
 At the close of the revolution, a fashion prevailed among the ladies of 
 fastening on their bonnets with long pins. These he contrived to make 
 with so much skill and dexterity, that he nearly monopolized the business. 
 Partly by the avails of his mechanical industry, and partly by teaching 
 school, he provided the means to prepare himself for college, and in 1789 
 became a student of Yale. His propensity for mechanical operations thero 
 
OF AMERICANS. 125 
 
 was occasionally shown. The skill with which he used the tools he bor 
 rowed of a carpenter, led to the exclamation, on the part of the man, " There 
 was one good mechanic spoiled when you came to college ! " 
 
 In 1792, having graduated, Whitney went to Georgia, with a view of 
 becoming a private teacher; but being disappointed in an engagement, 
 temporarily accepted the hospitalities of Gen. Greene, who resided near 
 Savannah. Ho there invented a tambour frame for Mrs. Greene, to be used 
 in embroidery, the ingenuity of which delighted the whole household. 
 Not long after the family were visited by a party of gentlemen, consisting 
 principally of officers who had served under the general, in the revolu 
 tionary army. The conversation turning upon the state of agriculture, it 
 was regretted that there was no means of cleaning the seed from the green 
 seed cotton, which might otherwise be profitably raised on lands unsuitable 
 for rice. But, until ingenuity could devise some machine which would 
 greatly facilitate the process of cleaning, it was vain to think of raising 
 cotton for market. Separating one pound of the clean staple from the seed 
 was a day s work for a woman. While the company were engaged in this 
 conversation, " Gentlemen," said Mrs. Greene, " apply to my young friend, 
 Mr. Whitney, he can make anything," at the same time showing them the 
 tambour frame and several other articles which he had made. She intro 
 duced the gentlemen to Whitney himself, extolling his genius, and com 
 mending him to their notice and friendship. He modestly disclaimed all 
 pretensions to mechanical genius, and on their naming th# object, replied 
 that he had never seen cotton seed in his life. Mrs. Greene said to one of 
 the gentlemen: "I have accomplished my aim, Mr. \Vhitney is a very 
 deserving young man, and to bring him into notice was my object. The 
 interest which our friends now feel for him, will, I hope, lead to his getting 
 some employment to enable him to prosecute the study of the law." 
 
 Encouraged by Mr. Miller, a teacher in the family, and a brother grad 
 uate of Yale, he shut himself up in his room, and set himself at work in 
 venting and constructing that machine on which his future fame depended. 
 He labored under great disadvantages, being obliged to manufacture his 
 tools, and draw his own wire. In the course of a few months, the machine 
 was so far perfected as to leave no doubt of its success. Mr. Miller, who 
 had funds at his command, united with Mr. Whitney, as a partner in the 
 enterprise of making and vending the machine. An invention so important 
 to the agricultural interests, and, as it has proved, to every department of 
 human industry, could not long remain a secret. The knowledge of it soon 
 spread through the State, and so great was the excitement on the subject, 
 that multitudes of persons came from all quarters of the State to see the 
 machine ; but it was not deemed safe to gratify their curiosity until the 
 patent-right should be secured. But so determined were some of the 
 populace to possess this treasure, that neither law nor justice could restrain 
 them ; they broke open the building by night, and carried off the machine. 
 In this way the public became possessed of the invention ; and before Mr. 
 Whitney could complete his model and secure his patent, a number of 
 machines were in successful operation, constructed with some slight devia 
 tion from the original, with the hope of evading the penalty for violating 
 the patent-right. 
 
126 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 As soon as the co-partnership of Miller and Whitney was formed, Mr 
 Whitney repaired to Connecticut, where, as far as possible, he was to perfect 
 the machine, obtain a patent, and manufacture and ship for Georgia, such * 
 number of machines as would supply the demand. 
 
 At the close of this year, 1793, Mr. Whitney was to return to Georgia 
 with his cotton-gins, where his partner had made arrangements for iom- 
 mencing business immediately after his arrival. The importunity of Mr. 
 Miller s letters, written during the preceding period, urging him to come on, 
 evinces how eager the Georgia planters were to enter the new field of en 
 terprise which the genius of Whitney had laid open to them. Nor did 
 they at first in general contemplate availing themselves of the invention 
 unlawfully. But the minds of the more honorable class of planters were 
 afterward deluded by various artifices, set on foot by designing men, with 
 the view of robbing Mr. Whitney of his just rights. 
 
 One of the greatest difficulties experienced by men of enterprise, at this 
 period, was the extreme scarcity of money, which embarrassed them to 
 such a degree, as to render it almost impossible to construct machines fast 
 enough. In April he returned to Georgia. Large crops of cotton were 
 planted, the profits of which were to depend, of course, entirely on the suc 
 cess and employment of the gin. 
 
 The most formidable rival to Whitney s machine, was the saw-gin. It 
 was Whitney s gin, excepting that the teeth were cut in circular rims of 
 iron, and it was principally in reference to this that the law-suits were after 
 ward held. 
 
 In this year, 1795, misfortunes began to multiply upon them. Mr. 
 Whitney s shop at New Haven was burnt, and all his machines and papers 
 destroyed, so that the company began to be much straitened for want of 
 funds. Miller wrote Whitney to endeavor to raise a loan of money in New 
 Haven, and concluded his letter with some very sensible remarks. "In 
 doing this," says he, " use great care to avoid giving an idea that we are in 
 a desperate situation, to induce us to borrow money. To people who are 
 deficient in understanding, this precaution will be extremely necessary : men 
 of sense can easily distinguish between the prospect of large gains, and the 
 approaches to bankruptcy." " Such is the disposition of man," he observes 
 on another occasion, " that while we keep afloat, there will not be wanting 
 those who will appear willing to assist us ; but let us once be given over, 
 and they will immediately desert us." 
 
 The cotton from Whitney s gins was sought in preference to all others ; 
 but the value of the patent was almost annihilated by the extent of the en 
 croachments. The first patent suit, which was tried at Augusta, Ga., in 
 the spring of 1797, went against them. The Judge gave a charge to the 
 Jury directly in their favor. The imperfections of the patent law of that 
 time, and the folly of trying an intricate case of this kind by a com 
 mon jury, were thus made manifest. Thus, after four } r ears of incessant 
 labor, their hopes of success were blasted. Surreptitious gins were erected 
 in all parts of the State, and few would buy a patent which they could use 
 with impunity without purchasing. 
 
 In 1801 and 1802, however, the patentees succeeded in selling their 
 patent-right on advantageous terms to the States of South Carolina, North 
 
OF AMERICANS. 127 
 
 Carolina, and Tennessee, and the prospects were becoming favorable, when 
 the legislature of South Carolina suddenly annulled their contract, and sued 
 for the money which had been paid. 
 
 In a letter written to Mr. Miller at this time, Mr. "Whitney remarks : 
 " I am, for my own part, more vexed than alarmed by their extraordinary 
 proceedings. I think it behooves us to be very cautious and circumspect in 
 our measures, and even in our remarks with regard to it. Be cautious what 
 you say or publish till we meet our enemies in a court of justice, when, if 
 they have any sensibility left, we will make them very much ashamed of 
 their childish conduct." 
 
 But, that Mr. Whitney felt very keenly in regard to the severities after 
 ward practiced toward him, is evident from the tenor of the remonstrance 
 which he presented to the legislature. " The subscriber," says he, " respect 
 fully solicits permission to represent to the legislature of South Carolina, 
 that he conceives himself to have been treated with unreasonable severity 
 in the measures recently taken against him, by, and under their immediate 
 direction. He holds that, to be seized and dragged to prison without being 
 allowed to be heard in answer to the charge alleged against him, and, in 
 deed, without the exhibition of any specific charge, is a direct violation of 
 the common right of every citizen of a free government ; that the power, in 
 this case, is all on one side ; that whatever may be the issue of the process 
 now instituted against him, he must, in any case, be subjected to great ex 
 pense and extreme hardships ; and that he considers the tribunal before 
 which he is holden to appear, to be wholly incompetent to decide, defini 
 tively, existing disputes between the State and Miller and Whitney. 
 
 " The subscriber avers, that he has manifested po other than a disposition 
 to fulfill all the stipulations entered into with the State of South Carolina, 
 with punctuality and good faith ; and begs leave to observe, farther, that to 
 have industriously, laboriously, and exclusively devoted many years of the 
 prime of his life to the invention and the improvement of a machine, from 
 which the citizens of South Carolina have already realized immense profits 
 which is worth to them millions, and from which their posterity, to the 
 latest generations, must continue to derive the most important benefits, and 
 in return to be treated as a felon, a swindler, and a villain, has stung him to 
 the very soul. And when he considers that this cruel persecution is in 
 flicted by the very persons who are enjoying these great benefits, and ex 
 pressly for the purpose of preventing his ever deriving the least advantage 
 from his own labors, the acuteness of his feelings is altogether inex 
 pressible." 
 
 Doubts, it seems, had arisen in the public mind as to the validity of the 
 patent, and the patentees were supposed to have failed in the fulfillment of 
 a part of the contract. Great exertions had been made in Georgia, where f 
 it will be remembered, hostilities were first declared against him, to show 
 that his title to the invention was unsound, and that somebody in Switzer 
 land had coi.ceived of it before him, and that the improved form of the 
 machine, with saws instead of wire teeth, did not come within the patent, 
 having been introduced by one, Hodgin Holmes. 
 
 The popular voice, stimulated by the most sordid motives, was now 
 raked against him throughout all the cotton-growing States. The State D/ 
 
128 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Tennessee followed the example of South Carolina, in annulling the contract 
 made with him ; and the attempt was made in North Carolina, but a com 
 mittee of the legislature, to whom it was referred, reported in his favor, 
 declaring " that the contract ought to be fulfilled with punctuality and good 
 faith," which resolution was adopted by both houses. There were also 
 high-minded men in South Carolina, who were indignant at the dishonor- 
 able measures adopted by their legislature of 1803 ; and their sentiments 
 had impressed the community so favorably with regard to Mr. Whitney, 
 that at the session of 1804, the legislature not only rescinded what the pre 
 vious one had done, but signified their respect for Mr. Whitney by marked 
 commendations. Nor ought it to be forgotten that there were in Georgia, 
 too, those who viewed with scorn and indignation the base attempts of 
 demagogues to defraud him. The proceedings against Mr. Whitney were 
 predicated upon impositions practiced upon the public. 
 
 At this time, a new and unexpected responsibility devolved on Mr. 
 Whitney, in consequence of the death of his partner, Mr. Miller, who died on 
 the 7th of December, 1803. Mr. Whitnej 1 " was now left alone, to contend 
 singly against those difficulties which had for a series of years amost broken 
 down the spirits of both the partners. But the favorable issue of the affairs 
 of Mr. Whitney, in South Carolina, during the subsequent year, and the 
 generous receipts that he obtained from the avails of his contracts with 
 North Carolina, relieved him from the embarrassments under which he had 
 so long groaned, and made him in some degree independent. Still no small 
 portion of the funds thus collected in North and South Carolina, was ex 
 pended in carrying on the fruitless, endless lawsuits in Georgia. 
 
 In the United States Court, held in Georgia, in December, 1807, Mr. 
 Whitney obtained a most important decision, in a suit brought against a 
 trespasser of the name of Fort. 
 
 It was on this trial that Judge Johnson gave his celebrated decision in 
 favor of Mr. Whitney. In the course of his remarks upon the case, he said: 
 " There are circumstances in the knowledge of all mankind which prove the 
 originality of this invention more satisfactorily to the mind than the direct 
 testimony of a host of witnesses. The cotton plant furnished clothing to 
 mankind before the age of Herodotus. The green seed is a species much 
 more productive than the Hack, and by nature adapted to a much greater 
 variety of climate ; but by reason of the strong adherence of the fiber to the 
 seed, without the aid of some more powerful machine for separating it than 
 any formerly known among us, tlie cultivation of it would never have been 
 made an object. The machine of which Mr. Whitney claims the invention, 
 so facilitates the preparation of this species for use, that the cultivation of it 
 has suddenly become an object of infinitely greater national importance 
 than that of the other species ever can be. Is it, then, to be imagined, that 
 if this machine had been before discovered, the use of it would ever have 
 been lost, or could have been confined to any tract or country left unex 
 plored by commercial enterprise ? But it is unnecessary to remark further 
 upon this subject. A number of years have elapsed since Mr. Whitney 
 took out his patent, and no one has produced or pretended to prove the ex 
 istence of a machine of similar construction or use. 
 
 With regard to the utility of this discovery, the court would deem it a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 129 
 
 waste of time to dwell long upon this topic. Is there a man who hears us 
 who has not experienced its utility ? the whole interior of the Southern 
 States was languishing, and its inhabitants emigrating for want of some 
 object to engage their attention and employ their industry, when the inven 
 tion of this machine at once opened views to them which set the whole 
 country in active motion. From, childhood to age it has presented to us a 
 lucrative employment. Individuals who were depressed with poverty and 
 sunk in idleness, have suddenly risen to wealth and respectability. Our 
 debts have been paid off; our capitals have increased, and our lands trebled 
 themselves in value. We cannot express the weight of the obligation 
 which the country owes to this invention. The extent of it cannot now be 
 seen. Some faint presentiment may be formed from the reflection that 
 cotton is rapidly supplanting wool, flax, silk, and even furs, in manufactures, 
 and may one day profitably supply the use of specie in our East India 
 trade. Our sister States, also, participate in the benefits of this invention ; 
 for, besides affording the raw material for their manufacturers, the bulki- 
 ness and quantity of the article afford a valuable employment for their 
 shipping." 
 
 Even Judge Johnson, in the above remarks, but feebly sets forth the 
 advantages to our country which have accrued from this invention. Prior to 
 that period cotton cloth was comparatively unknown. In 1784 an American 
 vessel arrived at Liverpool, having on board, for part of her cargo, eight bags 
 of cotton, which were seized by the officers of customs under the convic 
 tion that they could not be the growth of America, although the plant is 
 natural to the soil. Now cotton is our great article of export, amounting 
 annually in value to over one hundred millions of dollars. The demand 
 is increasing in a greater ratio than we can supply ; such are our advantages 
 of soil and climate, that none can compete with us. Instead of measuring 
 the value of this invention by hundreds of millions of dollars, thousands of 
 millions could scarce compass it. But for it, it is probable that the cotton- 
 growing States would have remained in a wilderness condition, and our 
 country, as a whole, immeasurably behind her present state, in wealth, 
 power, and population. 
 
 The earliest seat of the cotton manufacture known to us was Hindostan, 
 where it continues to be carried on by hand labor. America and Europe 
 are now pouring back upon Asia her original manufacture, and under 
 selling her in her own markets. In the manufacture of no one article has 
 the genius of invention been more called into exercise. It has not only 
 built up our own Lowell and other thriving towns, but large cities in other 
 lands, as Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, Paisley, etc. It is estimated to 
 give employment to over a million of persons, and an amount of capital of 
 millions upon millions of dollars. 
 
 " Cotton goods, to a great extent, may be seen freighting every vessel, 
 from Christian nations, that traverses the globe ; and filling the warehouses 
 snd shelves of the merchants, over two-thirds of the world. By the in 
 dustry, skill, and enterprise employed in the manufacture of cotton, man 
 kind are better clothed ; their comfort better promoted ; general industry 
 more highly stimulated ; commerce more widely extended ; and civiliza 
 tion more rapidly advanced than in any preceding age. When the 
 
130 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 statistics on the subject are examined, it appears that nearly all the cotton 
 consumed in the Christian world, is the product of the slave-labor of the 
 United States." The London Economist, says : " The lives of nearly two 
 millions of our countrymen are dependent upon the cotton crops of 
 America; their destiny may be said, without any kind of hyperbole, to 
 hang upon a thread. Should any dire calamity befall the land of cotton, a 
 thousand of our merchant ships would rot idly in dock ; ten thousand mills 
 must stop their busy looms; two hundred thousand mouths would starve 
 for lack of food." 
 
 In the year 1812, Mr. Whitney applied to congress for a renewal of his 
 patent. In his memorial, he presented a history of the struggles he had 
 been forced to encounter in defense of his right, observing that he had been 
 unable to obtain any decision on the merits of his claim until he had been 
 eleven years in the law, and thirteen years of his patent term had expired. 
 He sets forth, that his invention had been a source of opulence to thousands 
 of the citizens of the United States; that, as a labor-saving machine, it 
 would enable one man to perform the work of a thousand men; and that it 
 furnishes to the whole family of mankind, at a very cheap rate, the most 
 essential article of their clothing. Hence, he humbly conceived himself 
 entitled to a further remuneration from his country. The very men whose 
 wealth had been acquired by the use of this machine, and who had grown 
 rich beyond all former example, had combined their exertions to prevent 
 the patentee from deriving any emolument from his invention. Estimating 
 the value of the labor of one man at twenty cents per day, the whole 
 amount which had been received by him for his invention, was not equal to 
 the value of the labor saved in one Jiour, by his machines then in use in the 
 United States. Cotton is a more cleanly and healthful article of cultivation 
 than tobacco and indigo, which it has superseded, and does not so much im 
 poverish the soil. This invention has already trebled the value of the land 
 through a great extent of territory ; and the degree to which the cultivation 
 of cotton may be still augmented, is altogether incalculable. This species 
 of cotton has been known in all countries where cotton has been raised, 
 from time immemorial, but was never known as an article of commerce, 
 until since this method of cleaning it was discovered. It is objected that if 
 the patentee succeeds in procuring the renewal of his patent, he will be too 
 rich. There is no probability that the patentee, if the term of his patent 
 was extended for twenty years, would ever obtain from his invention one- 
 half as much as many an individual will gain by the use of it. Up to the 
 present time, the whole amount of what he has acquired from this source 
 (after deducting his expenses), does not exceed one -half the sum which a 
 single individual has gained by the use of the machine in one year. It is 
 true that considerable sums have been obtained from some of the States 
 where the machine is used ; but no small portion of these sums has been 
 expended in prosecuting his claim in a State where nothing has been ob 
 tained, and where his machine has been used to the greatest advantage. 
 
 "Your memorialist has not been able to discover any reason why he, au 
 well as others, is not entitled to share the benefits of his own labors. He 
 who speculates upon the markets, and takes advantage of the necessities of 
 others, and by these means accumulates property, is called a man of enter- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 prise a man of business he is complimented for his talents, and is pro 
 tected by the laws. He, however, only gets into his possession that which 
 was before in the possession of another ; he adds nothing to the public stock ; 
 and can he who has given thousands to others, be thought unreasonable, if 
 he asks one in return ? 
 
 It is to be remembered, that the pursuit of wealth by means of new in 
 ventions, is a very precarious and uncertain one a lottery where there are 
 many thousand blanks to one prize. If you would hold out inducements 
 for men of real talents to engage in these pursuits, your rewards must be 
 sure and substantial. Men of this description can calculate, and will know 
 how to appreciate, the recompense which they are to receive for their labors. 
 The number of those who succeed in bringing into operation really useful 
 and important improvements, always has been, and always must be, very 
 small. It is not probable that this number can ever be as great as one in a 
 hundred thousand. It is therefore impossible that they can ever exert upon 
 the community an undue influence. There is, on the contrary, much pro 
 bability and danger that their rights will be trampled on by the many." 
 
 Notwithstanding these cogent arguments, the application was rejected by 
 congress. Some liberal-minded and enlightened men from the cotton 
 districts, favored the petition : but a majority of the members from that 
 section of the Union, were warmly opposed to granting it. 
 
 In a correspondence with the late Mr. Robert Fulton, on the same sub 
 ject, Mr. Whitney observes as follows : " The difficulties with which I 
 have had to contend, have originated, principally, in the want of a disposi 
 tion in mankind to do justice. My invention was new and distinct from 
 every other it stood alone. It was not interwoven with anything before 
 known ; and it can seldom happen that an invention or improvement is so 
 strongly marked, and can be so clearly and specifically identified ; and I 
 have always believed, that I should have had no difficulty in causing my 
 rights to be respected, if it had been less valuable, and been used only by a 
 small portion of the community. But the use of this machine being im 
 mensely profitable to almost every planter in the cotton districts, all were- 
 interested in trespassing upon the patent-right, and each kept the other in 
 countenance. Demagogues made themselves popular by misrepresentation,, 
 and unfounded clamors, both against the right and the law made fo* its. 
 protection. Hence there arose associations and combinations to oppose 
 both. At one time, but few men in Georgia dared to come into court, and 
 testify to the most simple facts within their knowledge, relative to the use 
 of the machine. In one instance, I had great difficulty in proving that the- 
 machine had been used in Georgia, although, at the same moment, there 
 were three separate sets of this machinery in motion within fifty yards of 
 the building in which the court sat, and all so near that the rattling of the 
 wheels was distinctly heard on the steps of the court-house." 
 
 In 1793. Mr. Whitney being deeply impressed with the uncertainty of 
 all his hopes, founded upon the cotton gin, directed his attention to the 
 manufacture of arms for government. He selected a site near New Haven, 
 and there erected a manufactory, around which grew up a beautiful little 
 settlement of artisans. Owing to the low state of arts in our country, his 
 constant oversight and attention were required. "Mankind," said he, 
 9 
 
132 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 * generally are not to be depended upon, and the best workmen I can find 
 are incapable of directing. Indeed there is no branch of the work that can 
 proceed well, scarcely for a single hour, unless I am present." His genius, 
 indeed, impressed itself on every part of the manufactory, extending even 
 to the most common tools, all of which received some peculiar modification 
 which improved them in accuracy, or efficacy, or beauty. His machinery 
 for making the several parts of a musket was made to operate with the 
 greatest possible degree of uniformity and precision. The object at which 
 he aimed, and which he fully accomplished, was to make the same parts of 
 different guns, as the locks, for example, as much like each other as the 
 successive impressions of a copper-plate engraving. It has generally been 
 conceded that Mr. Whitney greatly improved the art of manufacturing arms, 
 and laid his country under permanent obligations, by augmenting her facili 
 ties for national defense. 
 
 Mr. Whitney died in 1825. In person, he was commanding, and of an 
 open, manly countenance. His manners were modest, unassuming, and he 
 invariably won the respect of all with whom he was thrown in contact. No 
 American, by the single exercise of his powers, has added so much to the 
 wealth and prosperity of his country as Eli Whitney, the inventor of the 
 Cotton Gin. 
 
 ROBERT FULTON, THE STEAMBOAT INVENTOR. 
 
 LITTLE BRITAIN, now called Fulton, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, 
 was the birthplace of the indefatigable ROBERT FULTON. He was born of 
 frish parentage in 1765, the same year which gave birth to Eli Whitney. 
 When a mere lad, he passed his leisure hours in the shops of mechanics, or 
 in the use of his pencil. The four years previous to his majority, he sup 
 ported himself, in Philadelphia, by portrait and landscape painting. He 
 then v;ent to London to study painting under Benjamin West, with whom 
 he remained for several years. He resided for a time in Devonshire, where 
 he derived much benefit from the acquaintance of those eminent patrons of 
 the mechanic arts, the Duke of Bridgewater, and the Earl of Stanhope. 
 
 Internal navigation, by canals and improvements in machinery, now en 
 grossed his attention, and he abandoned his profession as an artist and 
 became a civil engineer. In his profession he at once gained eminence, and 
 was the author of several valuable inventions. In 1796 he published his 
 Treatise on .the Improvement of Canal Navigation, and soon after went to 
 Paris, where he resided with Joel Barlow for seven years. At this time, 
 his thoughts were turned toward the subject of political economy, and he 
 wrote a work, addressed to " the Friends of Mankind," in which he labors 
 to show, that education and internal improvements would have a good effect 
 on the .happiness of a nation. He judged it would take ages to establish 
 the freedom of the seas by the common consent of nations; he therefore 
 turned his whole attention to find out some means of destroying ships of 
 war, those engines of oppression, and to put it out of the power of any 
 nation to maintain such a system ; and thus to compel every government to 
 adopt the simple principles of education, industry, and a free circulation of 
 its produce. Out of such enlarged and philanthropic views and reflections 
 grew Mr. Fulton s inventions for submarine navigation and explosions. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 133 
 
 Having gained the patronage of the French government, in the summer 
 of 1801 he went to Brest, to make experiments in submarine navigatior. 
 He embarked with three companions on board his plunging-boat in tho 
 harbor, and descended to the depth of five, ten, fifteen, and so on to twenty- 
 five feet ; but he did not attempt to go lower, because he found that his im 
 perfect machine would not bear the pressure of the water at a greater depth. 
 He found that she would tack and steer, and sail on a wind or before it, as 
 well as any common sailing boat. He then struck her masts and sails ; to 
 do which, and prepare for plunging, required about two minutes. Having 
 plunged to a certain depth, he placed two men at the engine, which wag 
 intended to give her progressive motion, and one at the helm, while he, 
 with a barometer before him, kept her balanced between the upper and 
 lower waters. He found that with one hand he could keep her at any 
 depth he pleased ; and that in seven minutes he had gone about the third 
 of a mile. He could turn her round while under water, and return to the 
 place he started from. These experiments were repeated for several days, 
 till he became familiar with the operation of the machinery and the motion 
 of the boat. He found that she was as obedient to her helm under water, 
 as any boat could be on the surface ; and that the magnetic needle traversed 
 as well in one situation as in the other. Satisfied with his boat, he next 
 made some experiments with the torpedoes, or submarine bombs. 
 
 A small vessel was anchored n the roads, and with a bomb, containing 
 about twenty pound* of powder, he approached within about two hundred 
 yards struck the vessel and blew her into atoms. A column of water and 
 fragments was blown near one hundred feet into the ain This experiment 
 was made in the presence of the prefect of the department and a multitude 
 of spectators. 
 
 Through the summer he watched for English ships, to try the success of 
 his invention in blowing up the enemy of France. No opportunity being 
 afforded, the government refused him any farther encouragement, and, 
 having received overtures from that of England, he proceeded to London. 
 Several experiments were made, and some of them were failures ; but on 
 the 15th of October, 1805, he blew up a strong built Danish brig of two 
 hundred tuns burden, which had been provided for the experiment, and 
 which was anchored in Walmar Roads, near the residence of Mr. Pitt. The 
 torpedo used on this occasion contained one hundred and seventy pounds of 
 powder ; and in fifteen minutes from the time of starting the machinery and 
 throwing the torpedo into the water, the explosion took place. It lifted tho 
 brig almost entire, and broke her completely in two. The ends sunk im 
 mediately, and in one minute nothing was to be seen of her but floating 
 fragments. In fact, her annihilation was complete. 
 
 Notwithstanding the complete success of this experiment, the British 
 ministry seem to have been but little disposed to have anything further to 
 do with Mr. Fulton, or his projects. Their object, evidently, had been to 
 prevent his engines being placed in the hands of an enemy ; and if this was 
 accomplished, it was the interest of England, as long as she was ambitious 
 of the proud title of the mistress of the seas, to make the world believe that 
 Mr. Fulton s projects were chimerical. 
 
 In December, 1806, Mr. Fulton returned to his native country, and im 
 
134: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 mediately engaged in the projects, both of submarine war and steam-naviga 
 tion. In the succeeding July, he blew up, with a torpedo, in the harbor of 
 New York, a large hulk-brig, which had been prepared for the purpose. In 
 1810, congress granted him five thousand dollars to make further experi 
 ments in submarine explosions. 
 
 We must now, however, revert to an early period of his life, to trace from 
 the beginning the progress of that great improvement in the arts, for which 
 \ve, and all the world, are so much indebted to him : we mean the practical 
 establishment of navigation by steam. At what time his attention was first 
 directed to this subject, we do not know ; but it is ascertained that, in the 
 year 1793, he had matured a plan, in which, even at that early day, he had 
 great confidence. Mr. Fulton, when he conceived a mechanical invention, 
 not only perceived the effect it would produce, but he could ascertain, by 
 calculation, the power his combination would afford, how far it would be 
 adequate to his purpose, and what would be the requisite strength of every 
 part of the machine : and though his numerical calculations did not always 
 prove exact, and required to be corrected by experiments, yet they assured 
 him of general results. 
 
 It would be great injustice not to notice with due respect and commenda 
 tion the enterprises of the late Chancellor Livingston, who had so intimate 
 a connection with Fulton in the progress and establishment of steam-navi 
 gation. As early as 1798, Mr. Livingston represented to the legislature of 
 New York, that he was possessed of a mode of applying the steam engine 
 to propel a boat on new and advantageous principles; upon which, they 
 passed an act, vesting him with the exclusive right and privilege of navi 
 gating all kinds of boats, which might be propelled by the force of fire or 
 steam, on all the waters within the territory or jurisdiction of the State of 
 New York, for the term of twenty years from the passing of the act ; upon 
 condition that he should, within a twelve-month, build such a boat, the 
 mean of whose progress should not be less than four miles an hour. Mr. 
 Livingston, immediately after the passing of this act, built a boat of about 
 thirty tuns burden, which was propelled by steam ; but, as she was incom 
 petent to fulfill the condition of the law, she was abandoned. Soon after he 
 entered into a contract with Fulton, by which it was, among other things, 
 agreed, that a patent should be taken out in the United States in Fulton s 
 name, which, Mr. Livingston well knew, could not be done without Mr. 
 Fulton s taking an oath that the improvement was solely his. 
 
 Fulton met Chancellor Livingston in Paris in 1802, and was induced by 
 him to again turn his attention to the subject. In the summer of 1803, an 
 experimental boat was built on the Seine, sixty-six feet long, and eight feet 
 wide. The experiment was satisfactory to the spectators not entirely so to 
 Mr. Fulton, she being deficient in speed, owing to defective machinery. He, 
 however, was so well satisfied of ultimate success, that he ordered of Watt 
 and Bolton, of Birmingham, England, certain parts of a steam-engine to be 
 made for him, and sent to America. He did not disclose to them for what 
 purpose the engine was intended ; but his directions were such as would 
 produce the parts of an engine, that might be put together within a compass 
 suited for a boat. Mr. Livingston had written to his friends in this country, 
 and, through their interference, an act was passed by the legislature of the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 135 
 
 State of New York, on the 5th of April, 1803, by which the rights and 
 exclusive privileges of navigating all the waters of that State, by vessels 
 propelled by fire or steam, granted to Mr. Livingston by the act of 1798, 
 which, we have before mentioned, were extended to Mr. Livingston and 
 Mr. Fulton, for the term of twenty years from the date of the new act. 
 
 Very soon after Mr. Fulton s arrival in New York, he commenced build 
 ing his first American boat. While she was constructing, he found that 
 her expenses would greatly exceed his calculations. He endeavored to 
 lessen the pressure on his own finances, by offering one third of the right, 
 for a proportionate contribution to the expenses. 
 
 In the spring of 1807, Fulton s first American boat was launched from 
 the ship-yard of Charles Brown on the East River. The engine from Eng 
 land was put on board of her, and in August she was completed, and was 
 moved by her machinery from her birthplace to the Jersey shore. Mr. 
 Livingston and Mr. Fulton had invited many of their friends to witness the 
 first trial, among whom were those learned men, Dr. Mitchill and Dr. 
 M Neven, to whom we are. indebted for some account of what passed on 
 this occasion. Nothing could exceed the surprise and admiration of all 
 who witnessed the experiment. The minds of the most incredulous were 
 changed in a few minutes. Before the boat had made the progress of a 
 quarter of a mile, the greatest unbeliever must have been converted. The 
 man who, while he looked on the expensive machine, thanked his stars 
 that he had more wisdom than to waste his money on such idle schemes, 
 changed the expression of his features as the boat moved from the wharf 
 and gained her speed, and his complacent expression gradually stiffened 
 into one of wonder. The jeers of the ignorant, who had neither sense nor 
 feeling enough to suppress their contemptuous ridicule and rude jokes, 
 were silenced for a moment by a vulgar astonishment, which deprived 
 them of the power of utterance, till the triumph of genius extorted from 
 the incredulous multitude which crowded the shores, shouts and acclama 
 tions of congratulation and applause. 
 
 This boat, which was called the Clermont, soon after made a trip to 
 Albany. Mr. Fulton gives the following account of this voyage in a letter to 
 his friend, Mr. Barlow. " My steamboat voyage to Albany and back, has 
 turned out rather more favorable than I had calculated. The distance 
 from New York to Albany is one hundred and fifty miles ; I ran it up in 
 thirty-two hours, and down in thirty. I had a light breeze against me the 
 whole way, both going and coming, and the voyage has been performed 
 wholly by the power of the steam-engine. I overtook many sloops and 
 schooners beating to windward, and parted with them as if they had been 
 at anchor. The power of propelling boats by steam is now fully proved. 
 The morning I left New York, there were not perhaps thirty persons in the 
 city, who believed that the boat would ever move one mile an hour, or bo 
 of the least utility ; and while we were putting off from the wharf, which 
 was crowded with spectators, I heard a number of sarcastic remarks. Thi 
 is the way in which ignorant men compliment what they call philosophers 
 and projectors. Having employed much time, money, and zeal, in accom 
 plishing this work, it gives me, as it will you, great pleasure to see it fully 
 answer my expectations. It will give a cheap and quick conveyance to 
 
136 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the merchandise on the Mississippi, Missouri, and other great rivers, which 
 are now laying open their treasures to the enterprise of our countrymen ; and 
 although the prospect of personal emolument has been some inducement to 
 me, yet I feel infinitely more pleasure in reflecting on the immense advan 
 tage that my country will derive from the invention," etc. 
 
 Soon after this successful voyage, the Hudson boat was advertised and 
 established as a regular passage-boat between New York and Albany. She, 
 however, in the course of the season, met with several accidents, from tha 
 hostility of those engaged in the ordinary navigation of the river, and 
 from defects in her machinery. 
 
 On the llth of February, 1800, Mr. Fulton took out a patent for his in 
 ventions in navigation by steam, and on the 9th of February, 1811, he 
 obtained a second patent for some improvements in his boats and 
 machinery. 
 
 It having been found that the laws, granting to Livingston and Fulton 
 exclusive privileges, were insufficient to secure their enjoyment, the legisla 
 ture of New York, in 1811, passed a supplementary act, giving certain 
 summary remedies against those who should contravene the protecting 
 laws. The act, however, excepts two boats which were then navigating the 
 Hudson, and one which ran on Lake Champlain in opposition to Living 
 ston and Fulton : without these exceptions, the law, as to these boats, would 
 have been ex post facto. In respect to these, therefore, the parties were left 
 to the same remedies as before passing the last act. The opposition boats 
 on the Hudson, were at first to have been propelled by a pendulum, which 
 some thought would give a greater power than steam ; but on launching 
 their vessel, they found the machinery was not so easily moved as when 
 she was on the stocks. Having found, by experiment, that a pendulum 
 would not supply the place of steam, and knowing no other way of apply 
 ing steam than that they saw practiced in the Fulton boats, they adopted 
 all their machinery, with some small alterations, with no other view than 
 to give a pretense for claiming to be the inventors of improvements on 
 steamboats. 
 
 On a trial for an injunction which ensued, the merits of the members of 
 this Pendulum Company were contrasted with those of Fulton, by Mr. 
 Emmet, the counsel for the appellants. He described them as " men who 
 never wasted health and life in midnight vigils, and painful study, who 
 never dreamt of science in the broken slumbers of an exhausted mind, and 
 who bestowed on the construction of a steamboat just as much mathemati 
 cal calculation and philosophical research, as in the purchase of a sack of 
 wheat, or a barrel of ashes." 
 
 From the time the first boat was put in motion till the death of Mr. 
 Fulton, the art of navigating by steam was fast advancing to that perfection 
 of which he believed it capable : for some time the boat performed each 
 successive trip with increased speed, and every year improvements were 
 made. The last boat built by him was invariably the best, the most con- 
 venient, and the swiftest. 
 
 In the war of 1812, Mr. Fulton s ingenuity was called upon to furnish 
 plans of his submarine warfare, as a defense to the harbor of New York. 
 Congress also authorized him to build a steam-frigate for its defense, which 
 
OF AMERICANS. 137 
 
 was named Fulton the First ; but before she was launched this ingenious 
 man was no more. 
 
 During the whole time that Mr. Fulton had thus been devoting hia 
 talent to the service of his country, he had been harassed by lawsuits and 
 cc-Qtroversies with those who were violating his patent-rights, or intruding 
 upon his exclusive grants. The State of New Jersey had passed a law 
 which operated against Mr. Fulton. He visited Trenton, the capital, and 
 succeeded in obtaining its repeal. On his return he was exposed on the 
 Hudson, which was very full of ice, for several hours. He had not a con 
 stitution to encounter such exposure, and upon his return, found himsell 
 much indisposed from the effects of it. He had at that time great anxiety 
 about the steam-frigate, and, after confining himself for a few days, he 
 went to give his superintendence to the artificers employed about her. 
 Forgetting his debilitated state of health in the interest he took in what 
 was doing on the frigate, he remained too long exposed, in a bad day, to 
 the weather on her decks. He soon felt the effects of this imprudence. 
 His indisposition returned upon him with such violence as to confine him 
 to his bed. His disorder increased, and on the 24th day of February, 1815, 
 terminated his valuable life. 
 
 Mr. Fulton was not the original inventor of the steamboat, nor never 
 claimed to be. Many steamboats had been made before the Clermont, both 
 in Europe and in America ; the most successful of which, was that con 
 structed by John Fitch, a Connecticut clock-maker. He built a steamboat 
 on the Delaware propelled by paddles ; which, for about a month, in 1790, 
 regularly plied as a passage-boat between Philadelphia and Bordentown ; 
 traversing in that period over two thousand miles. Her speed was, at 
 times, eight miles an hour ; and this with an engine manufactured in this 
 country by common blacksmiths, under the supervision of Fitch. All that 
 can be rightfully claimed for Fulton in this matter, is, that his experiment 
 convinced the world of the practicability of steam-navigation ; so that 
 steamboats have never ceased running from that day to this. 
 
 S. F. B. MORSE, AND THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH. 
 
 Samuel F. B. Morse, widely known as the inventor of the Magnetic 
 Telegraph, is the eldest son of the Rev. Jedediah Morse, the first American 
 geographer, and was born in Charlestown, Massachusetts, in 1791. He 
 graduated at Yale College in 1810, and the year after went to London, to 
 learn the art of painting. He made very rapid progress, and gave great 
 promise of surpassing excellence in the profession. "On his return to 
 America, he settled in Boston, but he met with so little encouragement 
 that he removed to New Hampshire, where he found employment in 
 painting portraits at fifteen dollars per head. He was induced by his 
 friends to remove to Charleston, South Carolina, and there his art proved 
 more profitable. About 1822, he took up his residence in New York, 
 where he found his works and talents more justly appreciated, and his skill 
 as an artist put in requisition. Under a commission from the corporation, 
 he painted a full-length portrait of Lafayette, then on a visit to the United 
 States. It was shortly after this, that Mr. Morse formed that association 
 of artists, which resulted in the establishment of the National Academy of 
 
138 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Design, of which he was elected president ; and it is worthy of note r that 
 the first course of lectures on the subject of art read in America, was 
 delivered by him before the New York Athenaeum, and afterward repeated 
 to the students of the academy. In 1829, he paid a second visit to Europe, 
 and remained abroad three years. 
 
 On his return from Europe, in the packet-ship Sully, in 1832, a gentle 
 man, in describing the experiments that had just been made in Paris with 
 the electro-magnet, the question arose as to the time occupied by the 
 electric fluid in passing through the wire, stated to be about one hundred 
 feet in length. On the reply that it was instantaneous (recollecting the 
 experiments of Franklin), he suggested that it might be carried to any dis 
 tance, and that the electric spark could be made a means of conveying and 
 recording intelligence. This suggestion, which drew some casual observa 
 tion of assent from the party, took deep hold of Professor Morse, who 
 undertook to develop the idea which he had originated ; and, before the 
 end of the voyage, he had drawn out and written the general plan of the 
 invention with which his name will be inseparably connected. His main 
 object was to effect a communication by means of the electro-magnet that 
 would leave a permanent record by signs answering for an alphabet, and 
 which, though carried to any distance, would communicate with any place 
 that might be on the line. His first idea was to pass a strip of paper, 
 saturated with some chemical preparation, that would be decomposed when 
 brought in connection with the wire, along which the electric current was 
 passing, and thus form an alphabet by marks, varying in width and number, 
 that could be made upon the paper at the will of the operator, and by this 
 means avoid separating the wire at the different points of communication. 
 
 On his return to New York, he resumed his profession, still devoting a.l 
 his spare time, under great disadvantages, to the perfection of his invention. 
 Finding his original plan impracticable, he availed himself of the action of 
 the electro-magnet upon the lever as a mode of using pens and ink, as in 
 the ruling machine. Of these he had five, with the idea of securing the 
 required characters from one of the pens. These he abandoned for pen 
 cils, and after a trial of various means for obtaining the end desired, and 
 finding by experiment he could obtain any requisite force from the lever, 
 he adopted the stylus or steel point for indenting the paper, and it is this 
 he has since used. 
 
 After great difficulty and much discouragement, Professor Morse, in 1835, 
 demonstrated the practicability of his invention, by completing and putting 
 in operation in the New York University a model of his Recording Electric 
 Telegraph the whole apparatus, with the exception of a wooden clock, 
 which formed part of it, having been made by himself. In 1837, he aban 
 doned his profession, with great regret, hoping to make his invention a 
 means of resuming it, under easier and more agreeable circumstances. In 
 the same year, he filed his caveat at the patent-office in Washington ; and 
 it is somewhat singular that, during this year (1837), Wheatstone, in Eng 
 land, and Steinheil, in Bavaria, both invented a magnetic telegraph, differ 
 ing from the American, and from each other. Wheatstone s is a very in 
 ferior, not being a recording telegraph, but requiring to be watched by one 
 of the attendants the alphabet being made by the deflection of the needle. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 139 
 
 Steinheil s, on the contrary, is a recording telegraph, but from its compli 
 cated and delicate machinery, has been found impracticable for extended 
 lines. At a convention held in 1851 by Austria, Prussia, Saxony, Wirtem- 
 berg, and Bavaria, for the purpose of adopting a uniform system of telegrapn- 
 ing for all Germany, by the advice of Steinheil, Professor Morse s was the 
 one selected. From the sultan of Turkey he received the first foreign 
 acknowledgment of his invention in the bestowal of a nishan, or order tho 
 1 order of glory : a diploma to that effect was transmitted to him with the 
 magnificent decoration of that order in diamonds. The second acknowledg 
 ment was from the king of Prussia, being a splendid gold snuff-box, con 
 taining in its lid the Prussian gold medal of scientific merit. The latest 
 acknowledgment is from the king of Wurtemberg, who transmitted to him 
 (after the adoption of the Telegraph treaty by the convention above men 
 tioned) the Wurtemberg Gold Medal of Arts and Sciences. In 1838, he 
 went to England, for the purpose of securing a patent there, but was refused, 
 through the influence of Wheatstoue and his friends, under the pretense 
 that his invention had already been published there. All that could be 
 adduced in proof of this was the publication in an English scientific 
 periodical of an extract copied from the New York Journal of Commerce, 
 stating the results of his invention, without giving the means by which 
 they were produced. In the following spring, he returned to this country, 
 and in 1840 perfected his patent at Washington, arid set about getting his 
 telegraph into practical operation. 
 
 In 184.4, the first electric telegraph was completed in the United States, 
 between Baltimore and Washington ; and the first intelligence of a public 
 character which passed over the wires was the announcement of the nomina 
 tion of James K. Polk, as the democratic candidate for the presidency, by 
 the Baltimore convention. Since then, he has seen its wires extended all 
 over the country, to the length of thousands of miles an extent unknown 
 elsewhere in the civilized world. His success has led to the invasion of hia 
 patent-rights by others, whom he has finally succeeded in defeating, after an 
 expensive and protracted litigation." 
 
 The greatest triumph of Professor Morse, we hope, will be found in the 
 success of the submarine telegraph between America and Europe, efforts 
 being now prosecuted to lay the cable across the Atlantic. "The honor of 
 having laid the first permanent telegraph under water, belongs to the Eng 
 lish, in laying that from Dover to Calais. But the first conception of, and 
 the first attempt at submarine telegraphic communication, were the fruit of 
 the genius of our countryman, Professor Samuel F. B. Morse. 
 
 In the New York Herald of 17th October, 1842, the following paragraph 
 occurs: Professor Morse will perform a highly interesting experiment 
 with his electro-magnetic telegraph, by which a correspondence will be 
 carried on between Castle Garden and Governor s Island. On the follow 
 ing day the same journal refers again to the subject, and predicts that it is 
 destined to work a complete revolution in the mode of transmitting intel 
 ligence throughout the civilized world. 
 
 On the night of 18th October, Professor Morse set out from Castle Garden 
 in a small boat, with one man to row. In the stern sheets he had a coil of 
 wire, insulated by being wrapped in cotton thread covered with a coating of 
 
140 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 asphaltum and India rubber; this he paid out as the boatman rowed 
 across to Governor s Island, and had the satisfaction of making fast the end 
 to a battery on the island some time before daybreak. Thus far all had 
 been propitious. But when the sun rose, Professor Morse discovered, with 
 dismay, that after he had laid his wire, two or three vessels had anchored 
 directly over it. He foresaw the Consequence. When the people assem 
 bled, and the hour of trial came, the battery was set to work, and the 
 professor, with a trembling hand, essayed to send a message to the island. 
 He succeeded in transmitting a few marks, but they were illegible ; the 
 anchors had fouled the wire and destroyed its insulation ; the crowd went 
 home convinced that telegraphic communication under water was all 
 humbug ; and the professor was hardly consoled by a letter of thanks and 
 a gold medal from the institute, and a fair appreciation by the press. 
 
 Somewhat discouraged, in truth, but, of course, firm in confidence, Pro 
 fessor Morse applied his mind to the transmission of the electric current 
 across rivers without the aid of wires. This experiment was successfully 
 performed, and the current sent across the canal at Washington, without in 
 tervening wire, in presence of many members of congress and distinguished 
 persons, in December, 1842. Nothing carne of it. But Professor Morse 
 was so well satisfied that his failure at Castle Garden was only a step to 
 the success of submarine telegraphs, that he wrote to the Secretary of the 
 Treasury, on 10th August, 1843: The practical inference to be drawn 
 from the law (which he had developed), is, that a telegraphic communica 
 tion may be established across the Atlantic. Startling as this may now 
 geem, the time will come when this project will be realized. 
 
 Nor does the professor stand alone. In the winter of 1842-3, Colonel 
 Colt laid a submarine telegraphic wire across from New York to Brooklyn, 
 and from Long Island to Coney Island. This wire, which was laid for the 
 purpose of obtaining early marine news, worked for some time to the 
 public satisfaction. 
 
 It was not till five years afterward that the Dover and Calais line was 
 laid. Public opinion was against it ; and when the wire was actually laid, 
 and messages passing to and fro, the wise men still said that it could not 
 be. Some declared that the messages were a fraudulent imposture ; others 
 simply shrugged their shoulders. One of our leading periodicals, in allud 
 ing to the event, said, with a sneer, The thing actually seems to work, 
 for the present. 
 
 Other lines rapidly followed the Dover and Ostend line, the Liverpool 
 and Dublin, the line to the Hague, the line from Piedmont to Sardinia and 
 Corsica, and the Newfoundland line, on this side of the ocean," etc. 
 
 GEORGE STEERS, THE AMERICAN SHIP-ARCHITECT. 
 
 One of the most melancholy chapters in the history of almost every man 
 of genius, whose beneficent labors have made the earth better by hia 
 resio\er ?e upon it, is that which tells of the misdirection of his earliest 
 efforts in the great battle of life, and the time lost, and the discouragements 
 encountered in the vain attempt to do what nature never intended ho 
 should do. The right man has to fight his way into the right place, 
 through a thousand discouraging obstacles, but he finds it at last 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 Fulton spent the best years of his life in painting bad historical pictures, 
 which are only remembered now because they were painted by him. The 
 great engineer and inventor, whose beneficent genius has done so much for 
 mankind, frittered away his early manhood in designing allegorical compo 
 sitions as illustrations of Joel Barlow s epic poem. But Fulton found the 
 place at last, and the glory of his name will never fade from the memory of 
 men. 
 
 It was the good fortune of George Steers to be born into the very sphere 
 whore his natural genius could be employed to the best advantage for him 
 self and the world. His father was a ship-carpenter, an Englishman by 
 birth, and a resident of the City of Washington, where George was born, in 
 the year 1819 ; but fortunately for him, the elder Steers removed to the 
 City of New York, to work at his trade ; and among* the operations in 
 which he engaged, was the building of the famous Marine Railway, com 
 monly known as the Dry Dock. The father of George Steers was re 
 markable for his integrity of character and perfect uprightness ; and it is a 
 circumstance worth mentioning, that when the distinguished son of this 
 honest man had taken the contract to build the groat steam-ship Adriatic, 
 a gentleman, who was an entire stranger to him, volunteered to be one of 
 his bondsmen, because he had been acquainted with his father, and knew 
 him to be " as honest a man as ever breathed." 
 
 The region of the Dry Dock was, and still is, devoted to the business of 
 ship-building in all its branches ; it was here the young lad Steers passed 
 his early years, and, in fact, his whole life. While his father was employed 
 upon the Marine Railway, George made himself useful in the humble 
 occupation of tending the "pitch-kettle;" but he did not confine himself 
 to that humble employment : his mind was occupied in inventing models 
 of boats and ships, which he put successfully into shape as opportunities 
 occurred. His first practical effort at ship-building, was in the construction 
 of a flat-boat, when he was but ten years old, which was eight feet long. 
 His mind was of so practical a character, and his instincts so sure, that he 
 never manifested any desire to obtain information from books, or cared to 
 listen to the suggestions of others. Though one of the most modest 
 natures in the world, he never had the slightest misgivings as to the cor 
 rectness of his own theories, nor would he yield his own opinions to the 
 dictations of another. It was, perhaps, unfortunate for him that he had not 
 enjoyed greater advantages of schooling : not that schooling could have 
 done anything for him toward making him a better builder of ships, but a 
 better acquaintance with literature, and the scientific formula of his art, 
 would have enabled him to appear to much better advantage, and have 
 gained him a readier acknowledgment of his inventive genius. Those who 
 knew him best, had unbounded confidence in his ability ; but to strangers, 
 it seemed very naturally questionable that a man whose general education 
 was so limited should so much excel all others in h is noble profession. 
 But it did not take long for him to gain the utmost confidence of those 
 with whom he came in contact. 
 
 He continued to make models for boats, until he became a master in his 
 art, at an age when other boys were but beginning to learn. At the age of 
 sixteen, he tried and built a sail-boat sixteen feet long, named the Martin 
 
142 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Van Buren : for George was always a decided democrat in his politica. 
 principles. This boat beat the Gladiator, a famous sailer, three miles, in a 
 race of twenty-four. Two years afterward, he built the John C. Stevens, 
 a row-boat, twenty-one feet long, three feet ten inches broad, and thirteen 
 inches deep ; it weighed but one hundred and forty pounds, and, with a full 
 crew on board, drew but four inches of water. The John C. Stevens was 
 believed to be the lightest and fleetest boat in the world ; but, however that 
 might be, it is very certain that she beat the fastest boats that New York 
 could produce, in several match races. 
 
 George was never put to a regular apprenticeship, but, at the age ol 
 sixteen, he went to work in the ship-yard of Jabez Williams, with whom 
 he continued a year and a half. While he was in the yard of Mr. Wil 
 liams, he asked the foreman to be allowed to do a certain piece of work, to 
 "square the wales," which the foreman refused to do, on account of his 
 youth. But George appealed to the " Boss," who granted him the privi 
 lege asked for, and he finished the job to the satisfaction even of the 
 foreman. 
 
 After leaving the ship-yard of Mr. Williams, he entered the employ of a 
 ship-builder, named Hathorne, whose partner he became subsequently. But 
 he did not remain long with him as an employee : his object being to gain 
 all the practical knowledge that could be acquired in a particular position, 
 and when that was done, he transferred himself to the next best place. 
 After leaving Mr. Hathorne, he was now employed by W. H. Brown, a 
 celebrated ship-builder, in laying off the model of the frigate Kamschatka, 
 built for the emperor of Russia. Though not yet nineteen years old, he 
 took the job of putting on the deck of this frigate. He also, in connection 
 with two other young men, " lumped " a ship to build for the great ship 
 builder W. H. Webb; arid found time to build a sail-boat, the Mauhaltes, 
 of nearly thirty tuns. 
 
 In 1843, when he was twenty-four years old, he entered into partnership 
 with his old "boss," Mr. Hathorne, who was one of the first yacht builders 
 in the country, and a favorite with the celebrated Stevens, of Hoboken, for 
 whom he had built several steamboats and yachts. The first vessel built 
 by the new firm was the steamboat Columbia, on which Mr. Steers per 
 formed the greatest day s work that any ship-carpenter was ever known to 
 accomplish. He fitted and erected forty-five stanchions on the guard, cut 
 ting the holes in the oak plank sheer, tenanting them into the facing under 
 neath the beams. He was not, like many inventors, an idle dreamer, but 
 a hard-fisted, thorough-going, conscientious mechanic. Though always ex 
 tremely temperate in his habits, he was the very reverse of niggardly, and 
 never made money a primary consideration in any of his undertakings. 
 His great pride was to excel in his profession. While in partnership with 
 Mr. Hathorne, he built a great number of vessels of various kinds ; but one 
 of his great successes was the pilot, W. G. Hackstaff, which beats all the 
 boats of that class sailing out of the port of New York. On dissolving with 
 Mr. Hathorne, Steers built a small steamer on Seneca Lake, and two pro 
 pellers, at Rochester, for Lake Ontario ; one of which, the Ontario, was one 
 of the finest boats of her class. Returning to New York, he engaged again 
 in his favorite business of yacht-building ; and among the vessels of that 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 kind, which he modeled arid constructed, was the beautiful schooner the 
 Una, which soon made a name for herself among the Yacht Squadron. In 
 the year 1848, Mr. Steers engaged as foreman for W. H. Brown, the 
 largest ship-builder in New York, and laid down the molds for two of the 
 Collins steamships, the Atlantic, and the ill-fated Arctic. 
 
 The next step of Mr. Steers, was in the direction which has given him 
 his great renown as an inventor in the modeling of sailing-vessels. In build 
 ing a pilot-boat, called the Mary Taylor, he brought to perfection his theory 
 of hollow water lines ; and all his subsequent models were but little more 
 than the expansion of the lines and proportions of this famous vessel.* The 
 
 * " This system was conceived when a mere boy, and is based upon the assumption 
 that for a vessel to sail easily, steadily, and rapidly, the displacement of water must be 
 nearly uniform along the. lines. When he laid the keel of the pilot-boat Mary 
 Taylor, he engaged in advance, to make a faster, a dryer, and a steadier craft than had 
 ever left the port of New York, so confident was he of his power, and he succeeded 
 exactly according to his expectations. Previous to this achievement, a vessel had never 
 been built where the center of displacement had not been forward of the beam. Fears 
 were generally entertained that this new form would prove a failure. Some predicted 
 that this vessel would plunge under water, others thought that in rough weather no one 
 could live on deck, all of which prophecies are certainly contradicted by fact. For, en- 
 countering less resistance from the narrow bows, the vessel went faster, and experienced 
 no corresponding strain, and suffered no more in rough weather than in the summer 
 breeze. The advantages of Mr. Steers system of ship-building may be thus summed 
 up : greater speed with the same tuunage and canvas ; greater stability in the vessel 
 that is, an increased hold upon the water : greater evenness and equality of motion, re 
 sulting from an equalized leverage since the masts, as levers, work more uniformly 
 upon the fulcrum of the ship ; greater endurance, because there is less strain in rapid 
 sailing, or in rough weather ; steadiness of motion, which enables her, in sailing, to keep 
 close to the wind, and lose but little leeway." 
 
 " As most of our readers are not conversant with the technicalities of ship-building 
 terms, we have endeavored, in the accompanying diagram, to give the relative position 
 of the beam or extreme breadth as it occurred iii the old style of vessels, and in those 
 of Steers. 
 
 F/GJ. 
 
 FIG. 1, represents the shape of vessels on the old plan the dotted line being the 
 position of the beam. 
 
 FIG. 2. Plan of Steers, as shown in the yacht America. 
 
144 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Mary Taylor was a wonder for her sailing qualities, and excited unbounded 
 admiration among amateur yacht-men and ship-builders. In 1850, the 
 keel of the world renowned America was laid, and also that of the hardly 
 less celebrated yacht Sylvia. The America has become one of the most 
 famous vessels that ever floated. She was built expressly to compete with 
 England in her own waters, for the championship of the seas, so far as 
 epeed was concerned, and she came off victorious. It was regarded as a 
 national victory ; and the young ship-builder, who had been hitherto un 
 known, became at once one of the most famous men of the day, and the pet of 
 his admiring countrymen. Mr. Steers went over in the yacht expressly to 
 manage her in the great race. He had an instinctive knowledge in sailing 
 a vessel, and would carry a sail to the last moment ; when all but himself 
 were blanched with fear at his boldness, he kept his post at the helm per 
 fectly serene and self-possessed : for he knew the exact strain which his 
 boat could bear, and the right moment to give her relief. 
 
 The yacht America was built for the New York Yacht Club. The 
 terms were that the builder should be paid forty thousand dollars, if she 
 beat, in a race, the sloop Maria, and but half of that sum if she failed. 
 There was never a fair trial of speed between the two vessels, and only the 
 smaller sum was paid. 
 
 On his return to New York, after his great victory at Cowes with the America, 
 (See page 615), Mr. Steers was received with every mark of distinction and 
 respect; he was honored by a public dinner, given him by the mechanics of 
 the city, and was also a guest at the dinner given by the Yacht Club, in 
 commemoration of their victory. He bore all these honors modestly, and 
 esumed his business again, with as much earnestness as ever, as though he 
 had not achieved so great a success. He built a great number of yachts, 
 and, at every regatta of the Yacht Club, some of his boats carried off the 
 prizes. He also built several ships and steamboats. But his fame had not 
 yet culminated. A larger and more honorable field was open before him. 
 In the year 1854, congress having made an appropriation for six steam- 
 frigates of the largest class, it was decided to allow one of them to be built 
 by a private architect, or, at least, one not in the service of the government ; 
 and though there was great competition for the honor of building this 
 ship, which was to be the largest of all, the secretary of the navy, to the 
 great satisfaction of the country, decided to bestow the favor upon Mr. 
 
 " Among mechanical triumphs, nothing can be more beautiful than the models of 
 George Steers ships they are like the handiwork of Cellini for delicacy of execution, 
 nnd yet, like the torso of Angelo, suggest mighty results. It was in the closet in 
 the retiracy of his modest work-shop, that Steers solved the mighty problems which 
 enter into naval architecture, and speculating, like another Franklin or Laplace, upon 
 the laws of nature, studied to overcome friction in propelling the weighty argosies 
 through the great deep; and so perfectly did he enter into the arcana of natme s in 
 most temples, that every step of progress he made was through means sublimely simple, 
 and accomplished amid a halo of the most perfect beauty. His ships, like all master 
 works of art, seem to be born of inspiration the iatense labor which produced them 
 is entirely lost sight of iu the suggestion that they are the result alone of a creative 
 power " 
 
OP AMERICANS. 145 
 
 Steers. It was a proud distinction for the young mechanic, and most nobly 
 did he justify the choice of the secretary. The superb Niagara, the largest 
 and fastest man-of-war afloat, was the result. No opportunity has yet been 
 offered for thoroughly testing the capacity of this magnificent ship; but 
 enough has been done to establish her superiority over every other vessel in 
 our own navy. She, as is well known, was the vessel selected to assist in 
 laying down the telegraphic wire across the Atlantic. 
 
 The launching of this huge vessel was a triumph of mechanical skill, and 
 as she slid gracefully and swiftly from her ways into the water, her excited 
 architect leaped from the ground in exultation at his success. " And then, 
 the next moment," says a friend, who was with him, "as the united cheers 
 of ten thousand rent the air, the modesty of the simple-hearted man re 
 ceived such a shock, that he at once shrank from observation, and became 
 personally lost in the crowd of heaving, exultant human beings that sur- 
 ounded him. Relieved from the presence of observers, and standing on 
 the deck of the newly-born ship, he walked over the vast area, pointed out 
 the advantages he calculated would be gained by her construction, imagined 
 the stars and stripes floating aloft, and then coming to the immense em 
 brasures, in his glowing imaginings, he ran out the tremendous guns in 
 tended for the Niagara s armament, and asked, with a proper glow of pride, 
 what vessel could successfully dispute her supremacy on her ocean home?* 
 [t was a sublime spectacle thus to witness the great commander triumphant 
 upon his own deck it was a new thing to behold a victory so complete, so 
 mighty in its results, unaccompanied by the shedding of blood, unstained 
 by a single aggressive act. We admired, nay, venerated, the man, and in 
 wardly thanked Heaven that among all our national blessings we could 
 icckon the wealth of the constructive mind of George Steers, who was so 
 eminently adding luster to our acknowledged supremacy of the seas, and 
 thus collecting under our glorious flag not only the largest marine in the 
 world, but also adding the additional graces of specimens unsurpassed in ex 
 cellence of shape, and unapproached in speed." 
 
 But this monster ship did not engross all his thoughts, nor all his time; 
 while she was in process of construction he modeled and built another beau 
 tiful yacht the Widgeon, and took the contract for the steam ship Adriatic, 
 for the Collins line of steam-packets. The model of this ship has been 
 pronounced nearer perfection than that of any other vessel afloat, while sha 
 is the largest wooden ship that has ever been built ; the iron ship, Great 
 Eastern, alone excelling her in dimensions. 
 
 The Adriatic was his last work. She was launched in the presence of 
 the greatest crowd that was ever assembled on a similar occasion. It was a 
 splendid triumph for the self-reliant, self-taught mechanic. After the 
 launch, the proprietors of the line gave a banquet, at a hotel in Broadway, 
 in honor of the occasion, to which, of course, the builder of the ship was 
 invited, and was expected to be the principal guest. But, when all the 
 company were assembled there was the vacant chair at the head of the 
 table ; all eyes were watching for the entrance of the man in whose honor 
 the feast was given ; but he did not come. He was sent for, and found in 
 his ship yard directing his workmen, not having deemed it worth his whil 
 to attend the festival. This was a characteristic trait of his modest nature, 
 
146 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 AH that he aimed at was to do his work perfectly. The glorification which 
 followed he never thought about. 
 
 The completion of the Niagara and the Adriatic was the culmination of 
 his aspirations ; he had abundantly proved to the world that he was not a 
 mere builder of yachts and pilot boats, and, in spite of all opposition had 
 demonstrated on the largest scale that the principles he had adopted were as 
 true in their application to the largest class of ships, as they were to tho 
 smallest boats. The huge Adriatic of six thousand tuns burden was but a 
 big yacht ; and she was finished in every part with the accuracy and ele 
 gance that he bestowed upon his smaller crafc. 
 
 He had now reached the point at which he had been aiming ; his talents were 
 recognized, and he had made grand calculations for the future. Preparatory 
 to putting his new schemes in practice, he had dissolved partnership with 
 his elder brother James, and there were large capitalists who stood ready to 
 invest any amount of capital he might require in tho prosecution of hia 
 plans. But it was not ordained that he should achieve any more triumphs. 
 
 On the 26th of September, in the year 1856, he drove out on Long Island 
 with a pair of gay horses, to bring home his wife and children, who had been 
 spending the summer at a farm house. The horses took fright and he was 
 either thrown or leaped from the carriage, and he was found a few minutea 
 afterward lying upon the ground insensible. His fall was fatal and he never 
 spoke again. 
 
 His funeral was attended more largely than that of any private citizen 
 who had died in New York, and every mark of affection and respect was 
 paid to his memory. He died, like Byron and Raphael, in his thirty-seventh 
 year, just as his genius was at its full vigor, and when he seemed about to 
 commence his career. But he had done enough to insure him renown, and 
 his death was lamented as a national loss, as it undoubtedly was. 
 
 In person George Steers was tall and vigorous, his complexion was florid, 
 and his eyes were a dark blue. His countenance had a remarkable expression 
 of honesty and simplicity. He was extremely liberal, yet careful in money 
 matters ; and, though he had never thought of saving for his family, he left 
 them in comfortable circumstances. He is buried in Greenwood Cemetery, 
 and a very elegant marble monument, erected by his widow, marks the place 
 of his interment. Among the testimonials he had received, was a very costly 
 ring, set with precious stones which was sent to him by the Emperor Nicholas 
 of Russia, and, if he and his imperial admirer had lived, it is probable that 
 he would have been employed to rebuild the Russian Navy. 
 
 CHARLES GOODYEAR, THE INVENTOR OF VULCANIZED INDIA-RUBBER. 
 
 Middle aged men recollect when they were boys that the only use of 
 India-rubber was for the purpose of obliterating marks made by the lead 
 pencil. But the manufacturing spirit of our days having formed an alliance 
 with chemistry, the result has been that this among other materials has risen 
 nto great importance and of varied uses for the welfare of society. 
 
 "With regard to the material itself, we shall just state that it was first 
 seen in Europe about the middle of the last century ; that it was soon afterward 
 discovered to be the gum, or, more properly, the coagulated juice of certain 
 trop : cal trees, the chief of which is the celebrated Siplumia elastica of the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 147 
 
 Brazilian forests ; that by the natives it was called cacutchouc ; by tho 
 chemists, from its singular elasticity, gum-elastic ; and by the common 
 people, from its valuable property of cleaning paper, India-rubber. Its phy 
 sical properties, indeed, as a whole, are perfectly unique. By far the most 
 elastic substance in nature, it is insoluble in water, in alcohol, or in any of 
 the mineral acids ; but it dissolves readily in ethej or naptha ; and, above 
 all, it possesses the power of agglomerating, or, in plain language, of adher 
 ing again when cut, if the separate pieces are brought together. No other 
 substance, we may add, is so valuable to the analytical chemist. We have 
 the high authority of the Baron Justus von Liebig for stating, that to the 
 increased facilities which the flexible tubes and sheets of India-rubber have 
 given in the laboratory, we owe many of the brightest discoveries in organic 
 chemistry. 
 
 Now, it happened about twenty-five years ago, that the method of pro 
 ducing thin sheets of India-rubber was applied to the invention of water 
 proof cloth garments ; and large manufactories for this purpose were estab 
 lished both in Europe and in America. The celebrated Macintosh fabrics, 
 so popular in the duys of stage-coach traveling, belong to this era of the 
 trade. But, unfortunately, one or two awkward circumstances connected 
 with the material, which had hitherto almost escaped notice, began to appear 
 in the most unmistakable manner. India-rubber, it was found, like all other 
 vegetable substances, had a tendency to unite with the oxygen of the atmos 
 phere, and decompose ; and while perfectly elastic at all ordinary tempera 
 tures, it had the fatal peculiarity of becoming soft with heat and hard with 
 cold. It was related in South Carolina, that a stout gentleman, traveling one 
 day under a hot sun with a waterproof coat on, became glued up into an 
 outer integument, from which no skill could extricate him. Another unfor- 
 nate man in Michigan, who wore a full suit of the treacherous fabric, was 
 seen to leave a hot room on a cold winter evening, his clothes to all appear 
 ance quite soft and pliable. Next morning, he was found among the snow 
 on the high road frozen to death, with the fatal garments around him as 
 stiff as buckram, and as hard as iron." 
 
 From these causes, among others we need not stay to mention, the original 
 India-rubber manufacture gradually sunk in importance, and indeed soon 
 became extinct. But in a few years it was destined to rise from its ashes, 
 and through the persevering experiments of Mr. Charles Goodyear. This gen 
 tleman, the son of a manufacturer, was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in 
 the year 1800. He appears to have inherited a genius for invention, for his 
 father was the inventor of several useful articles, particularly of the spring 
 steel hay and manure forks, which he manufactured, together with metal 
 and pearl buttons, spoons, sythes, etc. In the year 1826, he went to Phil 
 adelphia with his family, and engaged in the domestic hardware business, 
 in connection with the manufacturing establishment in Connecticut. This 
 was the first establishment for the sale of domestic hardware in the United 
 States, and was considered by many, a visionary enterprise, for to that period 
 the whole trade in hardware had been in imported articles. It was however 
 for a time eminently successful, and a handsome fortune was accumulated 
 by the firm ; yet, in consequence of too extended operations in different 
 
 10 
 
148 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 states, too liberal credits and heavy losses, in 1830 the firm was obliged to 
 suspend payments. 
 
 About two years after this the manufacture of gum-elastic was begun in 
 the United States, but not in the immediate vicinity of where he then was. 
 He observed all he heard or could ascertain respecting it with critical nterest, 
 and commenced experimenting with it, mixing the gum by hand ar.d spread 
 ing it on a marble slab with a rolling pin. By the disinterested and timely- 
 aid of a friend, he was enabled to continue his experiments in this manner, 
 and with the aid of a few hands he succeeded in making a few hundred 
 pairs of shoes. This manufacture was carried on during the winter of 1835-6, 
 in a small cottage in New Haven, which served also as a family residence. 
 
 The failure of these experiments was a signal one, as on the return of 
 warm weather they all decomposed and became one mass of melted gum. 
 M This circumstance was very discouraging, and might have induced any one 
 of a less enthusiastic turn of mind to abandon the project altogether. But 
 Goodyear, it should seem, was no common-place inventor. With astonish 
 ing perseverance, he set about acquiring the chemistry of the subject; and 
 it is pleasing to relate that in this direction his efforts were at length crowned 
 with success. He discovered that if India-rubber were combined at a high 
 temperature with certain proportions of sulphur and the oxide of lead, its 
 whole physical nature was changed, that it was now proof against the process 
 of vegetable decay, and that it remained uniformly elastic under the most 
 considerable variations of temperature. This singular compound he ushered 
 into the world in due time under the title of Vulcanized India-rubber." 
 
 During the first years of his experiments, until after he had discovered the 
 heating or vulcanizing process, and had become certain that he had obtained 
 his object, he made it an invariable practice to test the various experiments 
 by wearing some article of apparel made from the material, that he might as 
 soon as possible arrive at correct conclusions, the wearing of gume-lastic 
 about the person being one of the severest tests to which it can be applied. 
 An anecdote is related which exhibits in its true light, the opinion of the 
 public as to his enthusiasm and also as to his poverty. A gentleman, asking 
 how he might recognize him, received for an answer, "If -you meet a man 
 who has on an India-rubber cap, stock, coat, vest, and shoes, with an India- 
 rubber purse without a cent of money in it, that is he !" 
 
 Late in the summer of 1836, Mr. Goodyear removed to Roxbury, Massa 
 chusetts, where he carried on his experiments with indefatigable perseverance, 
 notwithstanding frequent imprisonments for debt, and the strong opposition 
 of his friends. It was during the winter of 1839-40, a year after the dis 
 covery of the vulcanization process, and that he became convinced of the 
 real value of his discovery, that the greatest discouragements were met 
 with. During this period his family were sometimes destitute of food and 
 fuel. The great difficulty now remained to bring the minds of others to ap 
 preciate the subject as he did himself, and it was not until some years later 
 that the manufacture was established on a profitable basis. 
 
 The importance of this invention was very great. Vulcanized India-rubl>er 
 after awhile became the rage ; all sorts of things were made from it rail 
 way springs and buffers, machinery belts, elastic bands and air-cushions, 
 waterproof garments of every description, all kinds of bandages, and a num 
 
OF AMEEICANS. 149 
 
 ber of surgical instruments. These things all created a large demand for 
 the material ; but it was soon found that the article which consumed most 
 and sold best was the waterproof shoes ; and in a few years after the invention 
 was made public, there sprang up several large establishments in Connecticut, 
 in Rhode Island, in New Jersey, and in Massachusetts, which manufacture 
 abo 1 :*. five million pair every year, and give employment to upward of five 
 tho;.and people. 
 
 Similar manufactories have also been established in England, Scotland, 
 France, and Germany. It is estimated a capital of fifty millions of dollars, 
 is now employed in the business of Vulcanized India-rubber. 
 
 Mr. Goodyear, owing to the almost interminable lawsuits which follow 
 upon the -heels of every great invention, and the continuation of his expen 
 sive experiments in developing the applications and uses, and in improving 
 the manufacture, has not to this day realized a competency sufficient to free 
 him from business embarrassments. Large fortunes, however, have been 
 made and are now making by manufacturers in the different kinds of India- 
 rubber goods. 
 
 SAMUEL COLT, THE INVENTOR OF THE REPEATING FIRE-ABM. 
 
 War, appears to have been one of the principal occupations of our race. 
 But as mind in this, as in all other callings, is certain to triumph, it so results 
 that the less cultivated nations and races are conquered by the more intel 
 lectual, who introduce the knowledge of their own arts to the vanquished f 
 and thus in the end bless them, through an introductory suffering and 
 defeat. War is therefore called an instrument of civilization, and, so it is, 
 if we read rightly the lessons taught by history. 
 
 In the earlier ages of the world, wars were of long duration, for so im 
 perfect was the knowledge of the military art and so rude the weapons in 
 use, that great length of time was necessary to inflict enough injury upon 
 an enemy to compel him to peace. The day however is past, when a war com 
 menced in one s boyhood will last until he is a grandfather, and then, with 
 a slight intermission be succeeded by another, of as long duration. The in 
 ventions of modern times have put an end to these interminable wars, by 
 making them too terrible for long continuance, for they leave a memory of 
 them so severe upon the generation engaged, that they are careful not to 
 again rashly enter upon the arena of blood. The effect now is, wars, short 
 and severe, with long intervals of rest, which give the nations the leisure to 
 advance in the arts of peace. In this view this class of inventors must be 
 judged among the benefactors of the race. If a machine were invented and 
 could be readily used, by which a few men could instantly and unfailingly, 
 at once destroy a thousand lives, wars among civilized nations would cease 
 forever, and nations low in the scale would more speedily, and with com 
 paratively little suffering, be brought under their pupilary subjection. The 
 inventor of such a machine would prove a greater benefactor of his race, 
 than he who should endow a thousand hospitals. 
 
 Colonel Samuel Colt, the eminent inventor of the repeating fire-arms, was 
 born at Hartford, Connecticut, July 19, 1814. His father was a manufac 
 turer of wool, and cotton, and finally of silk, of which last article, he es 
 tablished the first manufactory in New England. 
 
150 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 When a lad, young Colt was placed at a school in Amherst, Massachusetts 
 from whence, moved by a spirit of adventure, he ran away to Boston, and 
 embarked as a boy before the mast on the ship Corlis, for Calcutta. He re 
 turned buoyant in spirits, and as much determined to make his own way in 
 the world as ever. By a short apprenticeship in the manufactory of his 
 father, particularly in the department of dyeing and bleaching, he became 
 familiarly acquainted with the leading principles of chemistry which he 
 Boon turned to account, for when only seventeen or eighteen years of age 
 he traveled throughout the length and breadth of the United States, and 
 the Canadas " under the assumed name of Dr. Coult, burned more oxygen, 
 and administered more laughing gas, to more men, women and children, than 
 any other lecturer, we dare affirm, since chemistry was first known as a 
 science. Without pretension, of course, at this period of his life then a 
 youth of but seventeen or eighteen years of age to anything like profound 
 ness of scientific knowledge, he yet managed, by a ready use of such expe 
 riments as were dazzling and amusing, and by his dexterity as a manipulator, 
 to win a favorable public opinion, and to secure, what was then of especial 
 value to himself, a profit from his entertainments varying from five to fifty 
 dollars a night, and occasionally reaching several hundreds of dollars in 
 amount. 
 
 All these profits beyond those required for the supply of his daily wants 
 were sedulously devoted by the youthful adventurer to the prosecution of 
 that great invention which has since extended his renown throughout the 
 civilized world. For, most remarkably, indeed, it was upon that voyage to 
 which we have already alluded which he made as a runaway sailor-boy to 
 Calcutta and while firing for amusement at porpoises and whales, off the 
 Cape of Good Hope and in the Indian Seas, that he first conceived, and 
 wrought out with a chisel on a spun-yarn, with a common jack-knife and a 
 little iron rod, the rude model, in a piece of white pine, of that fire-arm 
 which now, from the shores of the Pacific to the Japan Seas over the whole 
 extent of the civilized world itself reports the triumph of his skill and 
 dazes his fame. 
 
 With unwearied assiduity, and a confidence in an ultimately prosperous 
 result which never wavered though against the vaticinations and dissention 
 of numerous relations and friends he toiled and improved upon his pefc 
 model, until at last he engendered confidence enough in the bosoms of a 
 few capitalists to procure the establishment, at Patterson, New Jersey, of a 
 company, with a capital of three hundred thousand dollars, for the manu 
 facture of his favorite arm. 
 
 After having secured, in addition to a patent at home, patents also for his 
 invention in England and in France countries which he personally visited 
 for the purpose he returned to America to urge upon his own Government 
 the adoption of his arm. But here at first he met with no success. The 
 supreme authorities at Washington, and officers in the public service, both 
 civil and military, frowned upon his invention. He used the percussion 
 cap a bad substitute, it was thought, for the old flint-lock. His arms wero 
 more likely to get out of order than those of the old-fashioned construction, 
 and when broken could not so easily be repaired as common arms. These 
 were the main objections. But Colonel Colt, nothing daunted for cliscour- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 151 
 
 agement is no element in his composition met the objectors by careful ex 
 planations, by numerous experiments, and, what is more, by making constant 
 improvements upon his invention. There was no suggestion, of practical 
 value, from boards of officers convened to examine and report upon his arm, 
 or from other quarters, to which he did not give heed no thought of his 
 own in this connection which he did not test by experiment the company 
 of which he was the soul, consuming for this purpose not less than three 
 hundred thousand dollars and the result was soon manifested in an arm so 
 perfect in its construction as to rouse commendation wherever seen. Leading 
 institutes and societies, within whose proper purview the arm came, and the 
 journals of the country, to a great extent, vied with each other in its praise. 
 The first premium of the American Institute, New York, and of the Me 
 chanics Institute in the same city, was, at several fairs, bestowed upon its 
 inventor. Both Colt s pistols and Colt s rifles were eulogized generally as 
 splendid specimens of ingenuity and skill as surpassing in beauty and cor 
 rectness of workmanship the best arms of European manufacture as handled 
 with the greatest facility and ease as firing with astonishing precision and 
 as sending forth their successive messengers of death with marvelous celerity, 
 force and effect. These justly merited commendations and, what is of 
 weightier importance still in this connection, the practical experience of mil 
 itary men, to a large extent, of the value of these arms upon the battle 
 fields of Texas, in the everglades of Florida, and amid the fastnesses and 
 over the plains of Mexico finally commended their adoption by the Govern 
 ment of the United States. The testimony in their favor of such men as 
 General Rusk and General Houston, of Commodore Moore, of the Texan, 
 Navy, of Jack Hayes, Ben. McCulloch, and numerous other gallant officers 
 of the far- famed Texan Rangers, and of that brave and excellent officer, 
 particularly, Colonel Harney, the Murat of the American army, could not be 
 resisted. " We use them with the greatest possible success," they all af 
 firmed. "They have far surpassed our expectations. We would not be 
 without them for the world !" 
 
 This last named officer, Colonel Harney first became acquainted with their 
 merits, in the war with the Seminoles of Florida. In the hands of his 
 hardy mounted Rangers, they at once became the terror of the red men, 
 and the war was soon brought to a close ; for when the Indians saw their 
 foes fire six times without lowering their weapons to load- they know their 
 former tactics were useless, and surrendered. 
 
 From the period of this adoption of his arm, the prosperity of Colonel 
 Colt as was his just meed after years of toil, of trial, of disappointment, 
 but never of failure of hope, or abatement of industry has run on in one 
 limpid, sparkling, and unbroken stream. By contract demands for his arms 
 from Texas which he fulfilled, with straitened means, at Whitneyville, 
 Connecticut by contract demands also from the United States he was 
 enabled to transfer his enterprise to Hartford, his own native town, upon the 
 banks of the Connecticut, where he has at last succeeded in founding aa 
 armory, the most magnificent of its kind, it may be safely alleged, in the 
 known world an establishment, built in the first place by damming out 
 a project deemed by many, in its inception, almost superhuman the 
 waters cf the mighty Connecticut in their maddened freshet time which 
 
152 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 incorporates, in buildings and machinery, a full million of dollars, and 
 gives employment to from six to eight hundred men inside the main build 
 ing, and to numerous hands outside which dispenses daily, in wages alone, 
 from one thousand to fifteen hundred dollars ; and manufactures, year by 
 year, from seventy-five to one hundred thousand arms. 
 
 The result is the fruit of a market for arms, not confined to the United 
 States, but extending over both the Americas more or less to the Indias, 
 East and West to Egypt even tr, distant Australia to remote Asiatic 
 tribes assembled at the great Fairs of Novgorood, and over Europe generally, 
 but especially to England. Here the arms of Colonel Colt, first introduced 
 in splendid style through the World s Fair, were warmly welcomed, and led 
 to the speedy establishment in London of an extensive armory for their 
 manufacture, and to their rapid adoption into the British army and naval 
 service. 
 
 " In whatever aspect the different observers viewed the American repeat 
 ers," says an account of the impression they made at the Crystal Palace, 
 " all agreed that perfection had been reached in the art of destruction. None 
 were more astonished than the English, to find themselves so far surpassed 
 in an art which they had studied and practiced for centuries, by a nation 
 whose existence was within the memory of man, and whose greatest triumphs 
 had been in the paths of peaceful industry. Lord Wellington was found 
 often in the American department, pointing out the great advantage of these 
 repeaters to other officers and his friends, and the different scientific as well 
 as popular journals of the country united in one common tribute of praise 
 to the ingenuity and genius of Colonel Colt. The Institute of Civil En 
 gineers, one of the most highly scientific and practical Boards of its kind in 
 the world, invited Colonel Colt to read a paper before its members upon tha 
 subject of these arms, and two of its meetings were occupied in hearing 
 him, and in discussing the merits of his invention." He was the first 
 American inventor who was ever thus complimented by this celebrated In 
 stitute, and he received at its hands, for his highly able and interesting 
 pape"r, the award of a gold medal and a life membership. 
 
 In addition to his presence before the Institute, Colonel Colt in high 
 compliment to his experience and skill, appeared, also, upon special invita 
 tion, before a Select Committee on Small Arms of the British Parliament 
 and there gave testimony which was gladly received, and deemed of supe 
 rior practical value. His own statements were amply corroborated at the 
 time, before the same committee, by British officers, and others, who had 
 visited his armory in America, and especially by J. Nasmith, the inventor 
 of the celebrated steam hammer who, in reply to the inquiry what effect 
 his visit to Colt s manufactory had upon his mind, answered " It produced 
 a very impressive effect, such as I shall never forget. The first impression 
 was to humble me very considerably. I was in a manner introduced to such 
 a skillful extension of what I knew to be correct principles, but extended 
 in so masterly and wholesale a manner, as made me feel that we were very 
 far behind in carrying out what we know to be good principles. What 
 struck me at Colonel Colt s was, that the acquaintance with correct princi 
 ples had been carried out in a bold, ingenious way, and they had been 
 
OP AMERICANS. 153 
 
 pushed to their full extent ; and the result was the attainment of perfection 
 and economy such as I had never met with before." 
 
 All tests and examinations to which the repeating arms were subjected in 
 England were highly in their favor. Emphatically they spoke for them 
 selves. The enormous power, nay, the invincibility of British troops armed 
 with them, was demonstrated. " The revolver manufactured by Colonel 
 Colt," said the Dover Telegraph, a public journal, expressing the best and 
 almost universal opinion of England upon the arm, "is a weapon that can 
 not be improved upon. It will, we unhesitatingly predict, prove a panacea 
 for the ills we have so unhappily encountered in the Southern hemisphere. 
 The Caffre hordes will bitterly rue the day on which the first terrific dis 
 charge is poured upon their sable masses. " And so a panacea the re 
 volver did prove, both with the Caffre hordes, and with the Scandinavian, 
 upon the bloody plains of the Crimea. The marvelous extension of its use 
 within a few years, in Europe, and over parts of Asia the establishment by 
 the British Government of an armory of its own, at Enfield, for its manu- 
 ture the establishment of another by the Russian Government at Tula for 
 the same manufacture the call upon Colonel Colt, aided in part by some 
 other American establishments, to provide all the important machinery for 
 these new armories these facts, and hosts of testimonials from all parts of 
 the world, and from the highest sources, attest the unrivaled excellence of 
 the repeating arms of Colonel Colt, and rank him among the most remark 
 able inventors of the world. 
 
 But it is not only in the department of arms that Colonel Colt s mechan 
 ical genius has displayed itself. He also invented an apparatus for blowing 
 up vessels, and for coast and harbor defense, which, in his own hands sig 
 nally successful, and for a time experimented upon under the patronage and 
 at the expense of the American General Government, will yet, we cannot 
 but believe, be adopted as a system, and, to a great extent, take the place 
 of forts and bastions, and Paixhan guns, for maritime defense. Aside from 
 this, to him, belongs the rare honor, of first succeeding in transmitting tele 
 graphic communications under water, by an insulated wire, as spoken of 
 more fully in the preceding sketch of Professor Morse. 
 
 CYRUS H. M CORMICK, THE INVENTOR OF THE REAPING MACHINE. 
 Inventive talent, as applied to the first great want of man, the produc 
 tion of food, is as yet in its early infancy. In no department of human in 
 dustry are the triumphs of inventors to be more signally displayed than in 
 this ; and although the decree that man by the sweat of his brow shall earn 
 his bread, will never be removed ; yet the benefits which he is to derive 
 through the aid of machinery, in the planting, tilling, and gathering of his 
 crops, and in the application of science to the processes of agriculture, are to 
 effect a revolution of tho magnitude of which we can now have no concep 
 tion. The day is fast waning in which the success of the farmer is con 
 gidered as guaranteed simply by the exercise of plodding industry. Agri 
 culture is rapidly taking its true position as the noblest of all vocations, 
 requiring for its successful prosecution the highest faculties of the intellect, 
 and yielding, too, the best of all rewards, vigorous health, independence, 
 and the absence of those temptations which are the curse of the competi- 
 
154 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 tive avooations of a city life. All honor, then, to those laborers in science 
 and invention, who are doing so much to elevate the condition of the agri 
 culturist, and to cause the earth to yield more abundantly the riches of 
 nature, for the sustenance and comfort of man. 
 
 Among the inventions of our countrymen, in aid of agriculture, the reaper 
 of Cyrus H. M Cormick stands at the head of the list, as a labor-saving 
 machine, and as having brought honor to the American name, by the inge 
 nuity displayed in its construction. The inventor is a Virginian by birth 
 a native of the county of Rockbridge, which is in the heart of the State, 
 and in that part known as the Valley of Virginia, long famous for the gen 
 erous crops which bless the labors of the husbandman. He commenced 
 his career as an inventor about the year 1830, his mind having been given 
 that bent at an early age by his father, Robert M Cormick, a highly respect 
 able farmer, of excellent mechanical genius, who had himself patented 
 several machines, and experimented upon a reaping machine as early as 
 1816, and again in 1831. The trial of this machine of the elder M Cor 
 mick in 1831, which was measurably successful in strait, untangled grain, 
 satisfied him that it would not answer any valuable purpose for ordinary 
 harvest operations, and he accordingly abandoned it. 
 
 His son Cyrus, however, had even then been employing his mind upon 
 the subject; for during this same harvest, he had actually succeeded in : n- 
 venting and putting in operation a machine containing most of the lead.ug 
 features in his present reaper, but wholly different from the plan of that in- 
 rented by the elder M Cormick. It operated quite well in cutting a por 
 tion of a late crop of oats on the farm of Mr. John Steele, which adjoined 
 that of his father. The circumstances of this trial, and a description of the 
 machine, were published in the spring of 1834, in the Mechanic s Magazine, 
 of E. K. Minor, of New York. 
 
 Aside from this, Mr. M Cormick was at that period occupied with the 
 invention of two plows, one of which, called a "hill-side plow," waa 
 patented in June, 1831, and the other, designated as a "self-sharpening, hori 
 zontal plow," was patented in November, 1833. These were both designed 
 for horizontal plowing, and were ingeniously arranged ; and the last named, 
 is said to be the most simple and effective of its kind. It has not been ex 
 tensively introduced, for the reason that the reaper became of so much 
 greater importance, as to consume the time and attention of the inventor, to 
 the neglect of the other ; and on the expiration of the patent, he failed in 
 obtaining a renewal by congress. Mr. M Cormick s first patent for his reaper, 
 was obtained in June, 1834. Several years elapsed before he had it suffi 
 ciently perfected to be fully satisfied to offer it to the public extensively upon 
 his own responsibility, which he deemed the proper way to introduce it. This 
 lapse of time was owing to the very limited period given in each year the 
 harvest season for experimenting upon it, and making the improvements 
 which experience suggested. 
 
 In the year 1841, he first advertised his reaper in the public prints of 
 Virginia, on a full guarantee of its performance. In this original advertise 
 ment, he says that, " Having satisfied himself that, after several years of 
 labor and attention in improving and completing his inventicn, he had 
 triumphantly succeeded in effecting his object with as much perfection aa 
 
OF AMERICANS. 155 
 
 the principle admits of, or is now desirable ; performing all that would be 
 expected, viz : the cutting of all kinds of small grain, in almost all the 
 various situations in which it may be found, whether on level or mode 
 rately-hilly lands, whether long or short, heavy or light, straight, tangled, 
 or leaning, in the best possible manner, by a machine operated by horse 
 power, with little friction or strain upon any of its parts, and without com 
 plication, and, therefore not subject to get out of order, but strong and 
 durable that operates with great saving of labor and grain" 
 
 Soon after the advertisement of Mr. M Cormick, and subsequent to the 
 harvest of 1842, numerous testimonials, to the great value of the invention, 
 were published in the papers of the State. One of these, from Mr. W. M. 
 Peyton, an eminent agriculturist, we insert for its full description of its 
 advantages as a labor-saving machine. 
 
 " I have tested it satisfactorily in every grade and condition of wheat : in 
 that which was very light, as well as that which would have yielded, but 
 for the rust, from thirty to forty bushels per acre ; in that which was erect, 
 and in that which was tangled and fallen, and found it to operate in every 
 instance with surprising neatness and efficiency scarcely leaving a head, 
 and but slightly influenced in the number of acres cut in a given time, by 
 the condition of the grain. It was found to cut tangled and fallen grain, 
 wherever it was not too flat to be reached by the sickle, as well as that 
 which was standing. The neatness and completeness with which the crop 
 is saved, is scarcely conceivable to one who has not witnessed its work. 
 Those most wedded to the cradle, admit that the reaper will save, on an 
 average, at least one more bushel to the acre in standing wheat than the 
 best cradling, while in tangled grain the saving would be augmented double, 
 treble, or even quadruple that amount. So that the machine, which costs 
 only a hundred dollars, will pay for itself in cutting an ordinary crop. 
 
 "The machine, too, is simple and substantial ; of course, not liable to get 
 out of order ; and when, from casualty, deranged or broken, easily rectified or 
 repaired by an ordinary mechanic. It will cut with facility fifteen acres 
 per day ; and when pushed, at least twenty. Two hands attend it with 
 ease, as rider and raker, relieving each other regularly, and five or six will 
 bind the grain with more ease, than they would bind the same quantity of 
 grain after cradlers and rakers, as the machine leaves it strait, and in piles 
 large enough for several sheaves. It is fully equal to five choice cradlers, 
 who would require five rakers and five binders to follow them, making 
 fifteen in all. Thus you see there is a saving of the labor of eiyht hands in 
 every day s cutting of the reaper. It performs equally well on rolling and 
 undulating as on level land, and by taking steep hills obliquely, so as to 
 graduate the ascent, the difficulty with them will in a great degree be 
 obviated." 
 
 Another prominent Virginia farmer, General Corbin Braxton, also testified: 
 "It has been worked this harvest under almost every disadvantage which it 
 was possible to bring to bear against it, in consequence of the unprecedented 
 weather we have had. It will cut any wheat that is not too low for the reel 
 and teeth to reach it. It does not appear to me to be as liable to get out of 
 order as a common cradle, and I should think it would be very durable. 
 The reaper has cut all descriptions of wheat : green, ripe, rusted as badly as 
 
156 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 wheat could have it, lying and standing ; and I think that every farmer 
 cutting fifty acres of wheat would find it to his advantage to have one. No 
 weather has prevented the reaper from working, except when the ground 
 was so soft as to mire the wheels." 
 
 From this time the reaper went into public use, gaining favor regularly as 
 it became more widely known, until the year 1845, when a second patent 
 was granted for improvements in the cutting apparatus, and in the method 
 of dividing and separating the grain to be cut, from that to be left on the 
 field for the next swath. In 1847, Mr. M Cormick obtained a third patent, 
 fur the improvement of so arranging his machine as to be able to carry the 
 man upon it, whose duty it was to discharge the cut grain from the plat 
 form of the machine on the ground, out of the track of the horses, in 
 passing the next time. 
 
 With these patented improvements, together with such others as sug 
 gested themselves from year to year in perfecting the details, " M Cor 
 mick s Reaper" has been steadily winning its way into favor, and holding 
 its position of superiority over all others. Its first trial with a competitor, 
 was with Hussey s Reaper, at Richmond, Virginia, in the harvest of 1843, 
 when there was no other machine of the kind known in the world. It was 
 a signal triumph for M Cormick s Reaper. But the event which more than, 
 anything else served to give it a wide reputation, was the honor it won at 
 the "World s Fair," in London, in 1853. When first seen at the exhibition 
 of the Crystal Palace, it was the great butt of ridicule of the English press. 
 The London Times sneered at it as a curious affair, resembling "a cross 
 between an Astley chariot, a tread-mill, and a flying-machine." When the 
 English people had an opportunity of witnessing its working powers in a 
 field of grain, their sneers were changed to cheers, and there appeared 
 almost no bounds to the enthusiasm with which they alluded to it. The 
 London Times said it was the most valuable article on exhibition from any 
 country, and was of sufficient value to compensate for the whole expense of 
 the World s Fair. In fact its triumph was the first and most important 
 event jof the exhibition in retrieving the reputation of our county, from the 
 ridicule which the meagerness of our contributions had called forth, com 
 pared with the rich, elegant, and large display of fine goods and gew-gaws 
 of other countries. Its success on this occasion resulted in the award to Mr. 
 M Cormick of " The Great Council Medal," which was the highest class 
 premium granted, and which was given to no other single agricultural im 
 plement at the exhibition. 
 
 No less signal was the triumph of M Cormick s Reaper at the Great In 
 dustrial Exhibition of all Nations, at Paris, in 1855. It was there brought 
 in competition with the American machines of Hussey and Manny that of 
 Bell s, of Scotland, with one or two others of French production. To it, 
 then, as a combined reaper and mower, upon the most thorough test of its 
 powers made in the field, in cutting wheat, oats, and grass, was awarded the 
 only " Grand Medal of Honor" given to any single agricultural implement 
 on exhibition. The Hon. Wm. Elliott, Commissioner of the State of South 
 Carolina, who was present, in his report to the governor of that State, says : 
 " I had the pleasure of witnessing the trial of M Cormick s machine, and 
 second triumph in the field of Trappes, where model implements, selected 
 
OF AMERICANS. 157 
 
 from France and England, were brought in competition with it only to test 
 its superiority. Its success was so distinguished as to disarm envy, and 
 bring down generous cheers from the vanquished parties." The "La 
 Presse" the most extensively circulated newspaper in France, on this occa 
 sion devoted no less than four columns to a minute historical sketch and 
 description of the machine, in connection with an account of the extraor 
 dinary results of these trials. 
 
 At the Paris exhibitions of 1856-7, the first premiums were awarded to 
 M Cormick s Reaper ; and to the same was awarded the first premium of 
 the United States Agricultural Society, in July, 1857, at a trial at Syracuse 
 of about twenty of the most prominent reapers of the United States. 
 
 The rapidity with which the farmer can, by this machine, cut his grain, 
 when in the proper state, has greatly stimulated production in our country. 
 For grass-cutting it operates with equal advantage, proportional to the 
 amount of that crop. M Cormick s Reaper may be said to be to the great 
 West, what Whitney s cotton gin is to the South a machine of incalculable 
 advantages in developing the resources of the country. In the broad 
 prairies of the West it has full scope for its triumphs ; some four thousand 
 of them being annually manufactured at Chicago, mainly for the use of 
 the Western farmers. 
 
 ISAAC M. SINGER, AND THE SEWING MACHINE. 
 
 The SEWING MACHINE does great honor to the inventive genius of our 
 countrymen. This machine is not, however, the result of the ingenuity 
 of one mind, but appears to have been brought to its present state of 
 usefulness by the successive inventions of many individuals, which, 
 when properly combined has resulted in an invention, whose pecuniary 
 benefits cannot be measured by millions, and which in the emanci 
 pation of the wives, mothers, and daughters of the land from a most 
 unhealthy kind of labor, is destined to prove one of the greatest of human 
 blessings. 
 
 The magnitude of this invention, can hardly be appreciated. It is esti 
 mated that in civilized countries more than one half of the adult portion of 
 the human race are almost wholly employed in the use of the needle, and 
 much of this sewing is of a kind which rapidly wears upon the system, pro 
 ducing premature disease and death. The sewing machine was precisely 
 the invention most needed by the world. 
 
 The first sewing machine of which there is any account was of French 
 invention, and was a tambour machine of simple contrivance, which was 
 used for the purpose of ornamenting the backs of gloves, and marking 
 cloths. It operated with one needle and a single thread, making what is 
 commonly called the single chain stitch. This machine was not adapted to 
 general purposes, the seam sewed by it could readily be raveled out, and 
 therefore it never was much used. 
 
 The next machine or machines for sewing, for there were two or more of 
 them, differing in form and arrangement, but alike in their essential princi 
 ples of operation, were invented, constructed, exhibited, and sold by WALTER 
 HUNT, of the City of New- York, in the years 1834 and 1835. 
 
 The next sewing machine in order, and the first upon which a patent wa* 
 
158 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 obtained in the United States, was invented by JOHN J. GREENOUGH, Esq 
 His patent bears date February 1, 1842. Mr. Greenough s machine was 
 made to sew with two threads, both of which were entirel} passed through 
 the cloth at every stitch ; a mode of operation which in actual practice pre 
 sents difficulties. 
 
 GEORGE-R. CORLISS, of Greenwich, N. Y., was the inventor and patentee of 
 the next sewing machine, his patent bearing date December 27, 1843. This 
 was also a machine which sewed with two threads in a manner somewhat 
 similar to that of Mr. Greenough, and was subject to the like objections. 
 
 On the 10th of September, 1846, letters patent were granted to Elias 
 Howe, Jr., a machinist of Cambridge, Massachusetts. This machine had 
 been invented the year previous. The prominent feature of this invention, 
 was the combination of the needle and shuttle. In 1849, Lerow and Blodget 
 obtained a patent on what is called the Rotary Sewing Machine. Owing to 
 the defects of these various machines, they failed to come into general use, 
 and the public became so repeatedly disappointed and deceived, that they 
 were prepared to regard any man as an imposter who should speak of offer 
 ing a sewing machine, no matter how perfect it should be. But intellect 
 was at work, overcoming the defects of these previous attempts, until at 
 last ISAAC M. SINGER, a native of Pittstown, Rensellaer County, New York, 
 invented a machine, which was so superior to all its predecessors as to 
 convince the public of the practicability of the sewing machine, for general 
 use : and this was just what Fulton did for the steamboat. 
 
 In October, 1851, he exhibited his machine at the Fair of the American 
 Institute, and was awarded a premium of the first class a gold medal. 
 Similar testimonials have been awarded to this invention at seven fairs in 
 the various States. It has rarely happened that any great invention, under 
 the most favorable circumstances, has made an equal progress with this, 
 in so short a time. The machines are in most profitable use in all parts 
 of the country, and the world, and for a great variety of purposes. They 
 are capable of stitching the finest linen or heavy leather, and any kind 
 or quality of materials between these extremes, and the work is strong and 
 exceedingly beautiful. The Straight Needle Sewing Machine, has estab 
 lished its reputation as one of the most important labor-saving instruments 
 ever devised. 
 
 Since the first patent granted to I. M. Singer, for the sewing machine, on 
 the 12th day of August, 1851, seventeen other distinct patents have been 
 issued to him in the United States, upon the same subject. The same im 
 provements have also been patented in several foreign countries. 
 
 Mr. Singer has, therefore, " the exclusive right to numerous mechanical 
 devices, without the use of which rfo sewing machine can be made to ope 
 rate to advantage ;" and, where used by others, it is either by a contract with 
 him or by an infringement of his legal rights. 
 
 Scarcely any invention is ever made without an infringement on the 
 rights of the inventor. Persons unacquainted with patents are apt to sup 
 pose that if a man has a patent upon a device in a machine, he must there 
 fore have the right to make and sell such machine. This is a great mistake. 
 There are at this moment between one hundred and a hundred and fifty 
 patents in this country on the sewing machine. These patents are, for the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 159 
 
 most part, for minor improvements of little practical importance, and the 
 law is that no patentee of an improvement on a machine can use anything 
 secured by a previous patent without the consent of the prior inventor. 
 Ilence it follows that it is now utterly impossible to make a sewing machine 
 of any kind of any practical utility without directly infringing several sub 
 sisting patents, the validity of which cannot be questioned. 
 
 In the year 1855, Singer s sewing machine, received the prize, in the 
 French National Exhibition, in Paris. These machines are now used by the 
 French government, for the manufacture of the clothes of the" French army 
 and navy. A manufactory has been established in Paris, and the right to 
 use his patents in France sold for 100,000 dollars. On the 6th of February, 
 1849, a patent was granted to Charles Morey and Joseph B. Johnson, of 
 Massachusetts, upon a machine which made a seam with a single thread by 
 means of a needle and a hook, acting in combination ; and for certain pur 
 poses, it is a very valuable invention. 
 
 Beside these are a large number of inventions, mostly worthless, or only 
 very limited in the uses to which they can be applied. The four prom 
 inent sewing machines before the country, which can be used for a variety 
 of purposes, are SINGER S, WHEELER and WILSON S, GROVER and BAKER S, 
 HUNT, WEBSTER & Go s. These four machines, beside being covered by 
 various patents peculiar to each, are indebted to the prior invention of 
 Howe for the needle used. For the right to use his patent needle, the four 
 pay Mr. Howe more than $100,000 per annum. 
 
 The sewing machine has already been introduced to such an extent that 
 Borne calculation may be made of its effect as a social element. It was pre 
 dicted that its use would bear with peculiar hardship upon the sewing girl, 
 whose oppressed condition has long excited the sympathies of the philan 
 thropic ; but it is evident this has not been the result, and the strong preju 
 dice which for several years resisted the introduction of the sewing machine, 
 has been gradually overcome. The following incident, which occurred about 
 four years ago, is related by SINGER, and shows the nature of the resistance 
 then experienced : " We were sitting in our office one pleasant afternoon, 
 when a tall lady dressed in black entered, and with rapid step advanced to 
 the sewing machine on exhibition. Are you, she asked, the inventor 
 of this machine ? I am, was the reply. Then, she rejoined, with a 
 fierce expression, you ought to be hung! Having delivered herself of 
 this opinion, she abruptly left the office." 
 
 It was not anticipated that the price of hand labor would advance, as the 
 machines were brought into operation. Yet such is the fact. It is undenia 
 bly true, that the wages of hand labor in the principal branches of industry 
 in which sewing machines are most employed, has advanced nearly or quite 
 fifty per cent., within the last four years. With all the aid to be derived 
 from the machines, many manufacturers find it difficult to procure their 
 work to be done. The truth is that the quantity of work increases with the 
 capacity to perform it, and, consequently, the mechanic will never be unem 
 ployed because of the introduction of machinery, while in common with 
 tho whole community, he will be directly benefited by the cheapening of 
 articles of necessity and luxury which he may wish to buy. 
 
160 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 The sewing machine also stimulates various other branches of manufac 
 ture. Among those in connection with it worthy of notice, is the great im 
 provement which has taken place in the quality of sewing silk, twist, thread, 
 etc., made necessary by the rapid and accurate movement of the sewing 
 machine. We now produce thread in this country, which far exceeds any 
 of foreign importation, in strength and evenness of texture. If the foreign 
 and domestic are looped together and jerked asunder, the former, even of 
 the best descriptions, has been found to yield in the greatest number of in 
 stances. Several thread factories have been established to meet the increased 
 demand. 
 
 We conclude this subject by quoting a few paragraphs from the pen of 
 an intelligent writer upon the sewing machine, in its social and sanitary 
 aspects. 
 
 " We have from examination a most thorough conviction of the advan 
 tages of sewing machines for family use, and for sewing generally in all its 
 varieties. They sew every kind of material, working equally well upon 
 silk, linen, woollen, and cotton goods ; seaming, quilting, gathering, hem 
 ming, etc., with a strength and beauty superior to any hand work. They 
 are elegant in model and finish, simple and thorough in construction, quiet 
 and rapid in operation ; easily managed ; and make a firm and durable seam 
 equally beautiful upon each side, with great economy of thread. The speed 
 averages about twelve hundred stitclies per minute, though it may be run at 
 double this. In manufacturing skirts where about ten stitches to the inch 
 are made, one thousand yards of straight sewing is an average day s work of 
 ten hours. It is sometimes run as high as one hundred and fifty yards per 
 hour. Fifty dozens of shirt collars, or six dozens of shirt bosoms are a day s 
 work. They are estimated to do the work of twelve seamstresses. The wages 
 of a good operator at family sewing, are, we believe, two dollars per day. 
 They have done much to elevate and extend the sphere of female industry. 
 The uses of the needle have been multiplied. Processes now executed by 
 machines have been heretofore performed by various implements. The 
 cheapening of manufactures has so much increased their consumption, that 
 not only are the interests of humanity subserved, but avenues of employ 
 ment have been opened to female industry heretofore occupied by men. It 
 is, however, rather from a professional and sanitary point of view that we 
 purpose to consider them particularly. 
 
 The physical evils resulting from the use of the needle are of modem 
 date ; the few and simple robes of ancestral times, taxed but slightly the 
 wives and daughters of those days. It is in this period of increased manu 
 facture of fabrics, that the burden has fallen so heavily upon woman : and 
 resulted in such frightful consequences to health, virtue and happiness. We 
 are inclined to analyze these phenomena rather than dismiss them with vague 
 expressions. 
 
 The attitude in hand sewing is unhealthful. There is always more or less 
 stooping of the head and shoulders, tending to retard circulation, respiration, 
 digestion, and produce curvature of the spine. The erect position is the 
 healthy one. The head should be raised and the shoulders thrown back to 
 give the lungs full play. The frequent long drawn breath of the seamstress, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 161 
 
 evinces the cramping and confinement of the lungs. Health cannot be ex 
 pected without free respiration. The life-giving element is in the atmo 
 sphere, and without it in due abundance disease must supervene. 
 
 Again, the stillness required for hand sewing is destructive to health. 
 The hands and arms alone move ; the body and lower limbs are motionless, 
 which tend to paralysis. Confinement in the stacks would be hardly more 
 barbarous. Strength and robustness must come from exercise. This con 
 fined attitude is in violation of correct theories of healthy physical develop 
 ment the instincts of nature. Those accustomed to sit writing for hours, 
 day after day, can form some idea of the exhausting nature of this work. 
 
 The minute attention required, and the strain upon the eyes, are not the 
 least evils resulting from hand sewing. Attention cannot be intermitted and 
 have the work go on. The eye must be fixed, in order to measure the stitch. 
 The fineness of the needle and thread, the various colored fabrics, and the 
 precision that good work requires, tax the eyesight more than any other 
 business. We must reflect, too, that this labor is demanded under most 
 unfavorable circumstances : dim lights, dark and close rooms day and 
 night for years. Nothing could be better devised for ruining health. What 
 wonder that needle women are pale, nervous, and careworn, or that our 
 women generally look old at an early age ! 
 
 THE ATLANTIC SUB-MARINE TELEGRAPH. 
 
 The whole nation having be*m recently electrified by the tidings of the 
 successful laying of the Atlantic cable, a few paragraphs upon that enter 
 prise is inserted here as a matter of history too vital to be omitted in an 
 article of this nature. While it is true that the cable has failed to remaiu 
 of any practical benefit as a medium of communication, yet the great fact 
 remains demonstrated, that it was successfully laid between the two conti 
 nents, and telegraphic communication actually sent through it across the 
 broad Atlantic. 
 
 The first actual working sub-marine telegraph was an American achieve- 
 merit. In the year 1846, Colonel Samuel Colt laid a sub-marine telegraph 
 from New York to Long Island, thence to Coney Island, near tho entrance 
 of New York Bay, to obtain early marine news, which worked, for a time, 
 satisfactorily. The first permanent sub- marine telegraph was not laid until 
 five years after, and is that from Dover to Calais, connecting England with 
 France : it is twenty-five miles in length. 
 
 The discovery of the properties of gutta percha, which were unknown a 
 few years since, has alone rendered possible the Atlantic telegraph. ThLs 
 gum is the only substance known which will form such a coating around 
 the wire as to perfectly insulate it that is, by its non-conducting qualities, 
 entirely prevent the escape of electricity. This fact was discovered in 1848, 
 by Samuel T. Armstrong, of New York. 
 
 The Atlantic cable weighs 1800 pounds to tho mile, and cost something 
 over a million of dollars. Its center is composed of a twisted cord of seven 
 fino copper wires, coated with gutta percha, forming a Bmall rope, three- 
 
162 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 eighths of an inch thick ; then coated with hempen twine, soaked in pitch 
 and tar ; lastly, an outer sheathing of eighteen wires, each wire heing a 
 strand of seven finer wires, making together 126 wires, over all of which is 
 a thick coating of gutta percha. The heart is twined together so closely as 
 to produce contact throughout. The cahlc will support, in water, six miles 
 of its own length, and is flexible enough to he tied in a knot around a man s 
 body. The greatest depth to which it has sunk is 2,400 fathoms, or 14,400 
 feet nearly three miles. It extends from Trinity Bay, in Newfoundland, 
 to Valentia Bay, in Ireland, a distance of 2,324 miles by the cable, and 1,950 
 miles in an air line. 
 
 The Atlantic Sub-marine Telegraph Company was formed in the year 
 1854, by Cyrus W. Field, a merchant of New York. The first attempt to 
 lay the cable was in the year 1857, when it parted after 380 miles had 
 been submerged. In June, 1858, the American war-steamer, Niagara, and 
 the British war-steamer, Agamemnon, thrice met in mid ocean, spliced the 
 cable, and started for their respective continents, and thrice the cable parted ; 
 the total loss of line by these unsuccessful trials having been 335 miles. 
 
 T.he final and successful attempt was begun by these vessels at noon, on 
 the 29th of July, and at sunrise, on the 5th of August, the cable was laid 
 and landed between Valentia Bay, Ireland, and Trinity Bay, Newfound 
 land the old world and the new. On the same day, the American people 
 were astounded by the news that the cable had been successfully laid. It 
 was at first discredited it was too great an event for belief; but when a 
 confirmatory dispatch came from Mr. Field, the whole nation broke out in 
 a wild jubilee. On the 17th of August, a congratulatory message was sent 
 by the Queen of England to the President of the United States, and soon 
 after answered. The first messages through the cable were transmitted 
 with difficulty, and its electric condition became gradually worse, until no 
 intelligible signals could be transmitted. Various causes have been assigned 
 for its failure, and it is not probable that those in this cable can be sur 
 mounted ; but the day is not far distant, in the opinion of practical men, 
 when all obstacles will be overcome, and Europe" and America connected by 
 successfully-working telegraphic lines across the bed of the Atlantic ocean. 
 
REMARKABLE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 ISRAEL R. POTTER, 
 
 WHO WAS A SOLDIER IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, AND TOOK A DISTINGUISHED 
 PART IN THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, IN WHICH HE RECEIVED THREE WOUNDS ; 
 AFTER WHICH HE WAS TAKEN PRISONER BY THE BRITISH AND CONVEYED TO ENG 
 LAND, WHERE FOR THIRTY YEARS HE OBTAINED A LIVELIHOOD FOR HIMSELF AND 
 FAMILY BY CRYING ; OLD CHAIRS TO MEND," THROUGH THE STREETS OF LONDON. 
 HE DID NOT SUCCEED IN OBTAINING A PASSAGE TO HIS NATIVE COUNTRY UNTIL 
 THE YEAR 1823, WHEN HE WAS IN THE SEVENTY-NINTH YEAR OF HIS AGE, AND 
 AFTER 
 
 AN ABSENCE OF FORTY-EIGHT YEAKSL 
 
 i WAS born of reputable parents in the town of Cranston, State of 
 Rhode Island, August 1, 1744. I continued with my parents there, in the 
 full enjoyment of parental affection and indulgence, until I arrived at 
 the age of eighteen, when, having formed an acquaintance with tho 
 daughter of a Mr. Richard Gardner, a near neighbor, for whom (in the 
 opinion of my friends) entertaining too great a degree of partiality, I was. 
 reprimanded, and threatened by them with more severe punishment, if my 
 visits were not discontinued. Disappointed in my intentions of forming an 
 union with one whom I really loved, I deemed the conduct of my parent 
 in this respect unreasonable and oppressive, and formed the determination 
 to leave them, for the purpose of seeking another home and other friends. 
 
 It was on Sunday, while the family were at meeting, that I packed up 
 as many articles of my clothing as could be contained in a pocket-hand 
 kerchief, which, with a small quantity of provision, I conveyed to and 
 secreted in a piece of woods in the rear of my father s house ; I then re 
 turned and continued in the house until about nine in the evening, when, 
 with the pretense of retiring to bed, I passed into a back room, and from 
 thence out of a back door, and hastened to the spot where I had deposited 
 my clothes, etc. It was a warm summer s night, and that 1 might be ena 
 bled to travel with the more facility the succeeding day, I lay down at the 
 foot of a tree and reposed myself until about four in the morning, when I 
 arose and commenced my journey, traveling westward, with an intention of 
 reaching, if possible, the new countries, which I had heard highly spoken 
 of as affording excellent prospects for industrious and enterprising young 
 men. To evade the pursuit of my friends, by whom I knew I should be 
 early missed and diligently sought for, I confined my travel to the woods 
 and shunned the public roads, until I had reached the distance of about 
 twelve miles from my father s house. 
 
 At noon the succeeding day I reached Hartford, in Connecticut, and ap- 
 11 (163) 
 
164: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 plied to a farmer in that town for work, and for whom I agreed to labor 
 for one month for the sum of six dollars. Having completed my month s 
 work to the satisfaction of my employer, I received my money and Htarted 
 from Hartford for Otter Creek ; but, when I reached Springfield, I met with 
 a man bound to the Cahos country, and who offered me four dollars to 
 accompany him, of which offer I accepted ; and the next morning we left 
 Springfield, and in a canoe ascended Connecticut River, and in about two 
 weeks, after much hard labor in paddling and poleing the boat against tho 
 current, we reached Lebanon, New Hampshire, the place of our destination. 
 It was with some difficulty, and not until I had procured a writ by tho 
 assistance of A respectable innkeeper in Lebanon by the name of Hill, that 
 I obtained from my last employer the four dollars which he had agreed to 
 pay me for my services. 
 
 From Lebanon, I crossed the river to New Hartford (then New York), 
 where I bargained with a Mr. Brink of that town for two hundred acres of 
 new land, lying in New Hampshire, and for which I was to labor for him 
 four months. As this may appear to some a small consideration for so 
 great a number of acres of land, it may be well here to acquaint the reader 
 with the situation of the country in that quarter, at that early period of 
 its settlement which was an almost impenetrable wilderness, containing 
 but few civilized inhabitants, far distantly situated from each other and from 
 any considerable settlement ; and whose temporary habitations with a few 
 exceptions \vere constructed of logs in their natural state the woods 
 abounded with wild beasts of almost every description peculiar to this 
 ^country, nor were the few inhabitants at that time free from serious ap 
 prehension of being at some unguarded moment suddenly attacked and 
 destroyed, or conveyed into captivity by the savages, who from the com- 
 mencement of the French war, had improved every favorable opportunity 
 .to cut off the defenseless inhabitants of the frontier towns. 
 
 After the expiration of my four months labor, the person who had pro 
 mised me a deed of two hundred acres of land therefor, having refused to 
 fulfill his engagements, I was obliged to engage with a party of his majesty s 
 surveyors at fifteen shillings per month, as an assistant chain-bearer, to sur 
 vey the wild unsettled lands bordering on the Connecticut River to its source. 
 
 It was in the winter season, and the snow so deep that it was impossible to 
 travel without snow-shoes. At the close of each day we enkindled a fire, 
 cooked our victuals and erected with the branches of hemlock a temporary 
 hut, which served us for shelter for the night. The surveyors having com 
 pleted their business .returned to Lebanon, after an absence of about two 
 months. Receiving my wages, I purchased a fowling-piece and ammunition 
 therewith, and for the four succeeding months devoted my time in hunting 
 deer, beavers, etc., in which I was very successful, as in the four months I 
 obtained as many skins of these animals as produced me forty dollars. 
 With my money I purchased of a Mr. John Marsh, one hundred acres of new 
 land, lying on Water-Quechy River (so called), about five miles from Hart 
 ford, New York. On ,this land I went immediately to work, erected a 
 small log hut thereon, and in two summers, without any assistance, cleared 
 up thirty acres fit for sowing. In the winter seasons I employed my time 
 in hunting and .entrapping such animals whose hides and furs wero esteeraeJ 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 of the most value. I remained in possession of my land two years, and thec 
 disposed of it to the same person of whom I purchased it, at the advanced 
 price of two hundred dollars, and then conveyed my skins and furs which I 
 had collected the two preceding winters, to No. 4 (now Charlestown), 
 where I exchanged them for Indian blankets, wampeag, and such other 
 articles as I could conveniently convey on a hand-sled, and with which I 
 started for Canada, to barter with the Indians for furs. This proved a very 
 profitable trip, as I very soon disposed of every article at an advance of 
 more than two hundred per cent., and received payment in furs at a re 
 duced price, and for which I received, in No. 4, two hundred dollars, cash. 
 With this money, together with what I was before in possession of, I now 
 set out for home, once more to visit my parents after an absence of two 
 years and nine months, in which time my friends had not been enabled to 
 receive any correct information of me. On my arrival, so greatly aifected 
 were my parents at the presence of a son whom they had considered dead, 
 that it was some time before either could become sufficiently composed to 
 listen to or request me to furnish them with an account of my travels. 
 
 Soon after my return, as some atonement for the anxiety which I had 
 caused my parents, I presented them with most of the money that I had 
 earned in my absence, and formed the determination that I would remaiu 
 with them contented at home, in consequence of a conclusion from the wel 
 come reception that I met with, that they had repented of their opposition, 
 and had become reconciled to my intended union but, in this, I soon found 
 that I was mistaken ; for, although overjoyed to see me alive, whom they 
 had supposed really dead, no sooner did they find that long absence had in 
 creased rather than diminished my attachment for their neighbor s daughter, 
 than their resentment and opposition appeared to increase in proportion in 
 consequence of which I formed the determination again to quit them, and 
 try my fortune at sea, as I had now arrived at an age in which I had an 
 unquestionable right to think and act for myself. 
 
 After remaining at home one month, I applied for and procured a berth 
 
 at Providence, on board the sloop , Captain Fuller, bound for Grenada. 
 
 After this voyage was finished, I made several other voyages, the last of 
 which was of three years duration, in a whaler to the South Seas. 
 
 I returned from my last voyage perfectly sick of the sea, remained with 
 my friends at Cranston a few weeks, and then hired myself to a Mr. James 
 Waterman, of Coventry, for twelve months, to work at farming. This was 
 in the year 1774, and I continued with him about six months, when the diffi 
 culties which had for some time prevailed between the Americans and Brit 
 ish, had now arrived at that crisis as to render it certain that hostilities 
 would soon commence in good earnest between the two nations ; in con 
 sequence of which, the Americans at this period began to prepare themselves 
 for the event companies were formed in several of the towns in New Eng 
 land, who received the appellation of "minute men," and who were to hold 
 themselves in readiness to obey the first summons of their officers, to march 
 at a moment s notice. A company of this kind was formed in Coventry, 
 into which I enlisted. 
 
 It was on a Sabbath morning that news was received of the destruction 
 cf the provincial stores at Concord, and of the massacre of our countrymen 
 
166 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 at Lexington, by a detached party of the British troops from Boston : and 
 I immediately thereupon received a summons from the captain, to be pre 
 pared to march with the company early in the morning ensuing. By the 
 break of day on Monday morning, I swung my knapsack, shouldered my 
 musket, and with the company commenced my march with a quick step 
 for Charlestown, where we arrived before sunset, and remained encamped 
 in the vicinity until about noon of the 16th June ; when, having been pre 
 viously joined by the remainder of the regiment from Rhode Island, to 
 which our company was attached, we received orders to proceed and join a 
 detachment of about one thousand American troops, which had that morn 
 ing taken possession of Bunker Hill, and which we had orders immediately 
 to fortify, in the best manner that circumstances would admit of. We 
 labored all night without cessation and with very little refreshment, and by 
 the dawn of day succeeded in throwing up a redoubt of eight or nine rods 
 square. As soon as our works were discovered by the British in the 
 morning, they commenced a heavy fire upon us, which was supported by a 
 fort on Copp s Hill ; we, however (under the command of the intrepid 
 Putnam), continued to labor like beavers until our breastwork was com 
 pleted. 
 
 About noon, a number of the enemy s boats and barges, filled with troop^ 
 landed at Charlestown, and commenced a deliberate march to attack us. 
 We were now harangued by General Putnam, who reminded us, that ex 
 hausted as we were, by our incessant labor through the preceding night, 
 the most important part of our duty was yet to be performed, and that 
 much would be expected from so great a number of excellent marksmen, 
 he charged us to be cool, and to reserve our fire until the enemy ap 
 proached so near as- to enable us to see the white of their eyes. When 
 within about ten rods of our works, we gave them the contents of our 
 muskets, which were aimed with such good effect, as soon to cause them 
 to turn their backs and to retreat with a much quicker step than that 
 with which they approached us. We were now again harangued by " old 
 General Put," as he was termed, and requested by him to aim at the 
 officers, should the enemy renew the attack which they did in a few 
 moments, with a reinforcement. Their approach was with a slow step, 
 which gave us an excellent opportunity to obey the commands of our gen 
 eral in bringing down their officers. I feel but little disposed to boast of 
 my own performances on this occasion, and will only say, that after de 
 voting so many months .n hunting the wild animals of the wilderness, 
 while an inhabitant of New Hampshire, the reader will not suppose me a 
 bad or inexperienced marksman, and that such were the fair shots which the 
 epauletted red-coats presented in the two attacks, that every shot which 
 they received from me, I am confident on another occasion would have pro 
 duced me a deer-skin. 
 
 So warm was the reception the enemy met with in their second attack, 
 that they again found it necessary to retreat ; but soon after receiving a fresh 
 reinforcement, a third assault was made, in which, in consequence of our 
 ammunition failing, they too well succeeded. A close and bloody engage 
 ment now ensued to fight our way through a very considerable body of the 
 enemy, with clubbed muskets (for there were not one in twenty of us pro- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 167 
 
 vided with bayonets) were now the only means left us to escape. The con* 
 flict, which was a sharp and severe one, is still fresh in my memory, and 
 cannot be forgotten by me while the scars of the wounds which I then re 
 ceived, remain to remind me of it. Fortunately for me, at this critical 
 moment I was armed with a cutlass, which although without an edge and 
 much rust-eaten, I found of infinite more service to me than my musket. 
 In one instance, I am certain, it was the means of saving my life a blow 
 with a cutlass was aimed at my head by a British officer, which I parried 
 and received only a slight cut with the point on my right arm near the 
 elbow, which I was then unconscious of; but this slight wound cost my an 
 tagonist at the moment a much more serious one, which effectually dis 
 armed him, for with one well-directed stroke I deprived him of the power 
 of very soon again measuring swords with a Yankee rebel ! We finally, 
 however, should have been mostly cut off, and compelled to yield to a su 
 perior and better equipped force, had not a body of three or four hundred 
 Connecticut men formed a temporary breastwork, with rails, etc., and by 
 this means held the enemy at bay until our main body had time to ascend 
 the heights, and retreat across the neck. In this retreat I was less for 
 tunate than many of my comrades I received two musket-ball wounds, 
 one in my hip and the other near the ankle of my left leg. I succeeded, 
 however, without any assistance in reaching Prospect Hill, where the main 
 body of the Americans had made a stand and commenced fortifying. From 
 thence I was soon after conveyed to the hospital in Cambridge, where my 
 wounds were dressed and the bullet extracted from my hip by one of tho 
 surgeons ; the house was nearly filled with the poor fellows who, like my 
 self, had received wounds in the late engagement, and presented a mel 
 ancholy spectacle. 
 
 I suffered much pain from the wound which I received in my ankle ; the 
 bone was badly fractured and several pieces were extracted by the surgeon, 
 and it was six weeks before I was sufficiently recovered to be able to join 
 my regiment quartered on Prospect Hill, where they had thrown up in- 
 trenchments within the distance of little more than a mile of the enemy s 
 camp, which was in full view, they having intrenched themselves on Bun 
 ker Hill after the engagement. 
 
 On the 3d July, to the great satisfaction of the Americans, General Wash 
 ington arrived from the south to take command. I was then confined in 
 the hospital, but as far as my observations could extend, he met with a joy 
 ful reception, and his arrival was welcomed by every one throughout the 
 camp. 
 
 The British quartered in Boston began soon to suffer much from tho 
 scarcity of provisions, and General Washington took every precaution to 
 prevent their gaining a supply. From the country all supplies could be 
 easily cut off, and to prevent their receiving any from tories anfl otfher dis 
 affected persons by water, the general found it necessary to equip two or 
 three armed vessels to intercept them ; among these was the brigantit 
 Washington of ten guns, commanded by Capt. Martindale. As seamen, at 
 this time, could not easily be obtained, most of them having enlisted in tho 
 land service, permission was given to any of the soldiers who should be 
 pleased to accept of the offer, to man these vessels consequently myself 
 
168 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 with several others of the same regiment went on board of the Washington, 
 then lying at Plymouth, and in complete order for a cruise. 
 
 We set sail about the 8th December, and had been out but three days 
 when we were captured by the enemy s ship Foy, of twenty guns, who took 
 us all out and put a prize crew on board the Washington the Foy pro 
 ceeded with us immediately to Boston Bay, where we were put on board 
 the British frigate Tartar, and orders given to convey us to England. 
 When two or three days out, I projected a scheme (with the assistance 
 of my fellow prisoners, seventy-two in number) to take the ship, in which 
 we should undoubtedly have succeeded, as we had a number of resolute 
 fellows on board, had it not been for the treachery of a renegade Englishman, 
 who betrayed mt. As I was pointed out by the fellow as the principal in the 
 plot, I was ordered in irons by the officers of the Tartar, in which situation 
 I remained until the arrival of the ship at Portsmouth, England, when I 
 was brought on deck and closely examined ; but protesting my innocence, 
 and what was very fortunate for me in the course of the examination, the 
 person by whom I had been betrayed, having been proved a British de 
 serter, his story was discredited and I was relieved of my irons. 
 
 The prisoners were now all thoroughly cleansed and conveyed to the ma 
 rine hospital on shore, where many of us took the small-pox the natural way 
 from some whom we found in the hospital affected with that disease, which 
 proved fatal to nearly one half our number. From the hospital those of us 
 who survived were conveyed to Spithead, and put on board a guard-ship, 
 where I had been confined with my fellow prisoners about a month, when I 
 was ordered into the boat, to assist the bargemen (in consequence of the 
 absence of one of their gang) in rowing the lieutenant on shore. As soon 
 as we reached the shore and the officer landed, it was proposed by some of 
 the boat s crew to resort for a few moments to an ale-house, in the vicinity, 
 to treat themselves to a few pots of beer ; which being agreed to by all, I 
 thought this a favorable opportunity, and the only one that might present, 
 to escape from my floating prison, and felt determined not to let it pass 
 unimproved ; accordingly, as the boat s crew were about to enter the house, 
 I expressed a necessity of my separating from them a few moments, to 
 which they, not suspecting any design, readily assented. As soon as I saw 
 them all snugly in and the door closed, I gave speed to my legs, and ran, 
 as I then concluded, about four miles without once halting. I steered my 
 course toward London, as when there by mingling with the crowd I thought 
 it probable that I should be least suspected. 
 
 When I had reached the distance of about ten miles from where I quit 
 the bargemen, and beginning to think myself in little danger of apprehension 
 should any of them be sent by the lieutenant in pursuit of me, as I was 
 leisurely passing a public house, I Was noticed and hailed by a naval officer 
 at the door with " Ahoy, what ship ?" " No ship," was my reply, on 
 which he ordered me to stop, but of which I took no other notice than to 
 observe to him, that if he would attend to his own business I would proceed 
 quietly about mine. This rather increasing than diminishing his suspicions 
 that I was a deserter, garbed as I was, he gave chase. Finding myself 
 closely pursued and unwilling again to be made a prisoner, if possible to 
 escape, I had now once more to trust my legs, and should have succeeded 
 
OF AMERICANS. 169 
 
 had not the officer, on finding himself likely to be distanced, set up a cry of 
 "Stop thief !" which Drought numbers out of their houses and workshops, 
 who, joining in the pursuit, succeeded after a chase of nearly a mile in 
 overhauling me. 
 
 By the officer I was conveyed back to the inn, and left in custody of two 
 soldiers the former (previous to retiring) observing to the landlord, that 
 believing me to be a true blooded Yankee, requested him to supply me at his 
 expense with as much liquor as I should call for. The house was thronged 
 early in the evening by many of the " good and faithful subjects of King 
 George," who had assembled to take a peep at the " Yankee rebel" (as 
 they termed me), who had so recently taken an active part in the rebellious 
 war, then raging in his majesty s American provinces. 
 
 As for myself, I thought it best not to be reserved, but to reply readily to 
 all their inquiries ; for while my mind was wholly employed in devising a 
 plan to escape from the custody of my keepers, so far from manifesting a 
 disposition to resent any of the insults offered me, or my country, to prevent 
 anv suspicions of my designs, I feigned myself not a little pleased with 
 their.- observations and in no way dissatisfied with my situation. As the 
 officer had left orders with the landlord to supply me with as much liquor 
 as I should be pleased to call for, I felt determined to make my keepen 
 merry at his expense, if possible, as the best means that I could adopt to 
 effect my escape. 
 
 The evening having become now far spent and the company mostly 
 retiring, my keepers (who, to use a sailor s phrase, I was happy to dis 
 cover "half seas over") having much to my dissatisfaction furnished mo 
 with a pair of handcuffs, spread a blanket by the side of their bed on which 
 I was to repose for the night. I feigned myself very grateful to them for 
 having humanely furnished me with so comfortable a bed, and on which I 
 stretched myself with much apparent unconcern, and remained quiet about 
 one hour, when I was sure that the family had all retired to bed. 
 
 I then intimated to my keepers that I was under the necessity of re 
 questing permission to retire for a few moments to the back yard ; when 
 both instantly arose and reeling toward me seized each an arm, and pro 
 ceeded to conduct me through a long and narrow entry to the back door, 
 which was no sooner unbolted and opened by one of them, than I tripped 
 up the heels of both and laid them sprawling, and in a moment was at tho 
 garden wall seeking a passage whereby I might gain the public road. A new 
 and unexpected obstacle now presented, for I found the whole garden in 
 closed with a smooth brick wall, of the height of twelve feet at least, and 
 was prevented by the darkness of the night from discovering an avenue 
 leading therefrom. In this predicament, my only alternative was either tc 
 scale this wall, handcuffed as I was, and without a moment s hesitation, or 
 to suffer myself to be made a captive of again by my keepers, who had 
 already recovered their feet and were bellowing like bullocks for assistance. 
 Had it not been a very dark night, I must certainly have been discovered 
 and retaken by them. Fortunately, before they had succeeded in rallying 
 the family, in groping about I met with a fruit tree situated within ten or 
 twelve feet of the wall which I ascended as expeditiously as possible, and 
 by an extraordinary leap from the branches reached the top of the wall, and 
 
170 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 was in an instant on the opposite side. The coast being now clear, I ran tc 
 the distance of two or three miles, with as much speed as my situation 
 would admit of. My next object now was to rid myself of my handcuffs, 
 which fortunately proving none of the stoutest, I succeeded in doing after 
 much painful labor. 
 
 It was now, as I judged, about twelve o clock, and I had succeeded in 
 reaching a considerable distance from the inn, from which I had made my 
 escape, without hearing or seeing anything of my keepers, whom I had left 
 staggering about in the garden in search of their " Yankee captive !" It 
 was indeed to their intoxicated state, and the extreme darkness of the night, 
 that I imputed my success in evading their pursuit. I saw no one until 
 about the break of day, when I met an old man tottering beneath the weight 
 of his pick-ax, hoe and shovel, clad in tattered garments, and otherwise the 
 picture of poverty and distress ; he had just left his humble dwelling, and 
 was proceeding thus early to his daily labor ; and as I was now satisfied 
 that it would be very difficult for me to travel in the daytime, garbed as . 
 was, in a sailor s habit, without exciting the suspicions of his royal ma 
 jesty s pimps, who (I had been informed) were constantly on the lookoul 
 for deserters, I applied to the old man, miserable as he appeared, for a 
 change of clothing, offering those which I then wore for a suit of inferior 
 quality and less value. This I was induced to do at that moment, as I 
 thought that the proposal could be made with perfect safetj r , for whatever 
 might have been his suspicions as to my motives in wishing to exchange 
 my dress, I doubted not that with an object of so much apparent distress, 
 elf-interest would prevent bis communicating them. The old man however 
 appeared a little surprised at my offer, and after a short examination of my 
 pea-jacket, trowsers, etc., expressed a doubt whether I would be willing to ex 
 change them for his "church suit," which he represented as something 
 worse for wear, and not worth half so much as those I then wore. Taking 
 courage however from my assurances that a change of dress was my only 
 ebject, he deposited his tools by the side of a hedge, and invited me to ac 
 company him to his house, which we soon reached and entered, where a 
 scene of poverty and wretchedness presented, which exceeded everything 
 cf the kind that I had ever before witnessed. There was but one room, in 
 one corner of which was a bed of straw covered with a coarse sheet, and 
 en which reposed his wife and five small children. The first garment pre 
 sented by the poor old man, of his best, or " church suit," as he termed it, 
 was a coat of very coarse cloth, containing a number of patches of almost 
 every color but that of the cloth of which it was originally made. The 
 next was a waistcoat and pair of small clothes, which appeared each to have 
 received a bountiful supply of patches to correspond with the coat. The 
 coat I put on without much difficulty, V.ut the two other garments proved 
 much too small forme, and when I had succeeded with considerable difficulty 
 in putting them on, they set so tight as to cause me some apprehension that 
 they might even stop the circulation of blood ! My next exchange was my 
 buff cap for an old rusty large-brimmed hat. 
 
 The old man appeared very much pleased with his bargain, and rep 
 resented to his wife that he could now accompany her to church much more 
 decently clad. Jle immediately tried on the pea-jacket and trowsers, and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 171 
 
 Beemed to give himself very little concern about their size, although I am 
 confident that one leg of the trowsers was sufficiently large to admit his 
 whole body but, however ludicrous his appearance, in his new suit, I am 
 sure that it could not have been more so than mine, garbed as I was, like 
 an old man of seventy ! From my old friend I learned the course that I 
 must steer to reach London, the towns and villages that I should have to 
 pass through, and the distance thereto, which was between seventy and 
 eighty miles. He likewise represented to me that the country was filled 
 with soldiers, who were on the constant lookout for deserters from the navy 
 and army, for the apprehension of whom they received a stipulated reward. 
 
 After enjoining it on the old man not to give any information of me, 
 should he meet on the road any one who should inquire for such a person, 
 I took my leave of him, and again set out with a determination to reach 
 London, thus disguised, if possible. I traveled about thirty miles that 
 day, and at night entered a barn in hope of finding some straw or hay on 
 which to repose for the night for I had not money sufficient to pay for a 
 night s lodging at a public house, had I thought it prudent to apply for one. 
 
 In my expectation to find either hay or straw in the barn, I was sadly 
 disappointed, for I soon found that it contained not a particle of either, and 
 after groping about in the dark in search of something that might serve for 
 a substitute, I found nothing better than an undressed sheep-skin. With 
 no other bed on which to repose my weari-ed limbs, I spent a sleepless 
 night, cold, hungry and weary, and impatient for the arrival of the morning s 
 dawn^ that I might be enabled to pursue my journey. 
 
 By break of day, I again set out and soon found myself within the 
 suburbs of a considerable village, in passing which I was fearful there would 
 be some risk of detection ; but to guard myself as much as possible against 
 suspicion, I furnished myself with a crutch and feigning myself a cripple, 
 hobbled through the town without meeting with any interruption. In 
 two hours afterward, I arrived in the vicinity of another still more conside 
 rable village, but fortunately for me, at the moment, I was overtaken by an 
 empty baggage wagon, bound to London. Again feigning myself very 
 lame, I begged of the driver to grant a poor cripple the indulgence to ride a 
 few miles, to which he assenting, I concealed myself by lying prostrate on 
 the bottom of the wagon, until we had passed quite through the village ; 
 when, finding the wagoner disposed to drive much slower than I wished to 
 travel, after thanking him for the kind disposition which he had manifested 
 to oblige me, I quit the wagon, threw away my crutch and traveled with a 
 speed, calculated to surprise the driver with so sudden a recovery of the use 
 of my legs. The reader will perceive that I had now become almost an 
 adept ^t deception, which I would not however have so frequently prac 
 ticed, Had not self-preservation demanded it. 
 
 As I was passing through the town of Staines within a few miles of 
 London, about eleven o clock in the forenoon, I was met by three or four 
 British soldiers, whose notice I attracted, and who unfortunately for me, dis 
 covered by the collar, which 1 had not taken the precaution to conceal, that 
 I wore a shirt which exactly corresponded with those uniformly worn by his 
 majesty s seamen. Not being able to give satisfactory account of rnysoif, I 
 I was made a prisoner, on suspicion of being a deserter from his majesty g 
 
172 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 aerviee, and was immediately committed to the round-house a prison ac 
 called, appropriated to the confinement of runaways, and those con vdcted of 
 small offenses. I was committed in the evening, and to secure me. the more 
 effectually, I was handcuffed, and left supperlessi by my unfeeling jailer, to 
 pass the night in wretchedness. 
 
 Mv first object was to rid myself of my handcuffs, which I succeeded in 
 doing after two hours hard labor, by sawing them across the gra uig of the 
 window. Having my hands now at liberty, the next thing to be done was 
 to force the door of my apartment, which was secured on the outside by a 
 hasp and padlock. I devised many schemes, but for want of tools to work 
 with, was unable to carry them into execution. I, however, at length suc 
 ceeded, with the assistance of no other instrument than the bolt of my 
 handcuffs, with which, thrusting my arm through a small window or aper 
 ture in the door, I forced the padlock ; and as there was now no other bar 
 rier to prevent my escape, after an imprisonment of about five hours, I was 
 once more at large. 
 
 It was now, as I judged, about midnight ; and although enfeebled and 
 tormented with excessive hunger and fatigue not having scarcely Basted 
 food for four days I set out with the determination of reaching x,ndon, if 
 possible, early the ensuing morning. By break of day, I roj^hed and 
 passed through Brintford, a town of considerable note and withV six milea 
 of the capital but so great was my hunger at this moment, that I was 
 under serious apprehension of falling a victim to absolute stars -dion, if not 
 so fortunate soon as to obtain something to appease it. I rtcollected of 
 having read in my youth accounts of the dreadful effects of hanger, which 
 had led men to the commission of the most horrible excesses, but did not 
 then think that fate would ever thereafter doom me to an wmost similar 
 situation. 
 
 A laborer I met, near Brintford, informed me that Sir Johi? Millet, whose 
 seat he represented but a short distance, was in the habit of employing 
 many hands at that season of the year (which was in the spring of 1776), 
 and he doubted not but that I might there meet with employment. With 
 my spirits a little revived, at even a distant prospect of obtaining something 
 to alleviate my sufferings, I started in quest of the seat of Sir John agreeably 
 to the directions which I had received ; in attempting to reach which, I 
 mistook my way, and proceeded up a graveled and beautifully-ornamented 
 walk, which unconsciously led me directly to the garden of the Princess 
 Amelia. I had approached within view of the royal mansion when a 
 glimpse of a number of "red-coats," who thronged the yard, satisfied me of 
 my mistake, and caused me to make an instantaneous and precipitate re 
 treat, being determined not to afford any more of their mess an opportu- 
 r.itv of boasting of the capture of a " Yankee rebel." Indeed a wolf or a 
 bear of the American wilderness, could not be more terrified or panic-struck 
 at the sight of a firebrand, than I then was at that of a British red-coat 1 
 
 Ha\?ng succeeded in making good my retreat from the garden of her 
 highness, without being discovered, I took another path which led me to 
 where a number of laborers were employed in shoveling gravel, and to whom 
 I repeated my inquiry if they could inform me of any in want of help, etc. 
 "Why, in troth, friend," answered one in a dialect peculiar to the laboring 
 
OF AMERICANS. 173 
 
 class of people of that part of the country, "me master, Sir John, hires a 
 goodly many, and as we ve a deal of work now, may-be he ll hire you. 
 Spose he stop a little with us until work is done, he may then gang along, 
 and we ll question Sir John, whither him be wanting another like us or no !" 
 
 I found Sir John walking in his front yard, in company with several 
 gentlemen, and on being made acquainted with my business, his first inquiry 
 was whether I had a hoe, or money to purchase one, and on being answered 
 in the negative, he requested me to call early the ensuing morning, and he 
 would endeavor to furnish me with one. 
 
 It is impossible for me to express the satisfaction that I felt at this pros 
 pect cf a deliverance from my wretched situation. 1 was now by so long 
 fasting reduced to such a state of weakness, that my legs were hardly able 
 to support me, and it was with extreme difficulty that I succeeded in reach 
 ing a baker s shop in the neighborhood, where with my four remaining 
 pennies, which I had reserved for a last resource, I purchased two two 
 penny loaves. 
 
 After four days of intolerable hunger, the reader may judge how great 
 must have been my joy, to find myself in possession of even a morsel to ap 
 pease it. Although five times the quantity of the " staff of life" would 
 have been insufficient to have satisfied my appetite, yet, as 1 thought it im 
 probable that I should be indulged with a mouthful of anything to eat in 
 the morning, I concluded to eat then but one loaf, and to reserve the other 
 for another meal ; but having eaten one, so far from satisfying, it seemed 
 rather to increase my appetite for the other the temptation was irresistible, 
 the cravings of hunger predominated, and would not be satisfied until I had 
 devoured the remaining one. 
 
 The day was now far spent, and I was compelled to resort with reluctance 
 to a carriage house, to spend another night in misery. I found nothing 
 therein on which to repose my wearied limbs but the bare floor, which was 
 sufficient to deprive me of sleep, however much exhausted nature required 
 it. At eight o clock precisely all hands were called, and preparations made 
 for a commencement of the labors of the day. I was furnished with a large 
 iron fork and a hoe, and ordered by my employer to accompany them, and 
 although my strength at this moment was hardly sufficient to enable me to 
 bear even so light a burden, yet I was unwilling to expose my weakness, so 
 long as it could be avoided but, the time had now arrived in which it waa 
 impossible for me any longer to conceal it, and I had to confess the cause to 
 my fellow laborers, so far as to declare to them, that such had been my state 
 of poverty, that, with the exception of the four small loaves of bread, I had 
 not tasted food for four days ! I was not, I must confess, displeased nor a 
 little disappointed to witness the evident emotions of pity and commiseration, 
 which this woeful declaration appeared to excite in their minds. 
 
 About eleven o clock we were visited by our employer, Sir John, who, 
 noticing me particularly, and perceiving the little progress I made in my 
 labor, observed, that although I had the appearance of being a stout hearty 
 man, yet I either feigned myself or really was a very weak one. On which 
 it was immediately observed by one of my friendly fellow laborers, that it 
 was not surprising that I lacked strength, as I had eaten nothing of con- 
 tequence for four days ! Mr. Millet, who appeared at first little disposed to 
 
174: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 credit the fact, on being assured by me that it was really so, put a shilling 
 into my hand, and bid me go immediately and purchase to that amount in 
 bread and meat a request which the reader may suppose I did not hesitate 
 to comply with. 
 
 My repast being over, one of the men was ordered by my hospitable 
 friend to provide for me a comfortable bed in the barn, where I spent the 
 n:ght, on a couch of clean straw, more sweetly than ever I had done in 
 the days of my better fortune. I arose early, much refreshed, and was pre 
 paring after breakfast to accompany the laborers to their work, which was 
 no sooner discovered by Sir John, than, smiling, he bid me return to my 
 couch and there remain until I was in a better state to resume my labors. 
 Indeed, the generous compassion and benevolence of this gentlemen was 
 unbounded. 
 
 After having on that day partook of an excellent dinner, which had been 
 provided expressly for me, and the domestics having been ordered to retire, 
 I was not a little surprised to hear myself thus addressed by him. " My 
 honest friend, I perceive that you are a seafaring man, and your history 
 probably is a secret which you may not wish to divulge ; but, whatever cir 
 cumstances may have attended you, you may make them known to me with 
 the greatest safety, for I pledge my honor I will never betray you." 
 
 Having experienced so many proofs of the friendly disposition of Mr. 
 Millet, I could not hesitate a moment to comply with his request, and 
 without attempting to conceal a single fact, made him acquainted with every 
 circumstance that had attended me since my first enlistment as a soldier. 
 After expressing his regret that there should be any of his countrymen 
 found so void of the principles of humanity, as to treat thus an unfortunate 
 prisoner of war, he assured me that so long as I remained in his employ he 
 would guarantee my safety adding, that notwithstanding (in consequence 
 of the unhappy differences which then prevailed between Great Britain and 
 her American colonies) the inhabitants of the latter were denominated rebels, 
 yet they were not without their friends in England, who wished well io 
 their cause, and would cheerfully aid them whenever an opportunity should 
 present. He represented the soldiers whom it had been reported to me 
 were constantly on the lookout for deserters, as a set of mean and con 
 temptible wretches, little better than a lawless banditti, who, to obtain the 
 fee awarded by government for the apprehension of a deserter, would betray 
 their best friends. 
 
 Having been generously supplied with a new suit of clothes and other 
 necessaries by Mr. Millet, I contracted with him for six months, to super 
 intend his strawberry garden, in the course of which so far from being mo 
 lested, I was not suspected by even his own domestics of being an American. 
 At the expiration of the six months, by the recommendation of my hos 
 pitable friend, I got a berth in the garden of the Princess Amelia, where, 
 although among my fellow laborers the American rebellion was not unfre- 
 quently the topic of their conversation, and the " d d Yankee rebels," as 
 they termed them, frequently the subjects of their vilest abuse, I was Iitt3e 
 suspected of being one of that class whom they were pleased thus to 
 denominate. I must confess that it was not without some difficulty, that I 
 was enabled to surpress indignant feelings. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 175 
 
 I remained in the employ of the princess about three months, and then, 
 in consequence of a misunderstanding with the overseer, I hired myself to a 
 farmer in a small village adjoining Brintford, where I had not been three 
 weeks employed before rumor was afloat that I was a Yankee prisoner of 
 war. From whence the report arose, or by what occasioned, I never could 
 learn. It no sooner reached the ears of the soldiers, than they were on the 
 alert, seeking an opportunity to seize my person. Fortunately, I was ap 
 prised of their intentions before they had time to carry them into effect. I 
 was however hard pushed, and sought for by them with that diligence and 
 perseverance that certainly deserved a better cause. I had many hair 
 breadth escapes, and most assuredly should have been taken, had it not been 
 for the friendship of those whom I suspect felt not less friendly to the cause 
 of my country, but dare not publicly avow it. I was at one time traced by 
 the soldiers in pursuit of me to the house of one of this description, in whose 
 garret 1 was concealed, and was at that moment in bed. They entered and 
 inquired for me, and on being told that I was not in the house, they in 
 sisted on searching, and were in the act of ascending the chamber stairs for 
 that purpose, when, seizing my clothes, I passed up through the scuttle, and 
 reached the roof of the house, and thence half-naked, passed to those of the 
 adjoining ones, to the number of ten or twelve, and succeeded in making 
 my escape without being discovered. 
 
 Being continually harassed by night and day by the soldiers, and driven 
 from place to place, without an opportunity to perform a day s work, I was 
 advised by one whose sincerity I could not doubt, to apply for a berth as a 
 laborer in a garden of his royal majesty, situated in the village of Quew, a 
 few miles from Brintford ; where, under the protection of his majesty, it 
 was representad to me that I should be perfectly safe, as the soldiers dare 
 not approach the royal premises, to molest any one therein employed. 
 
 The overseer, ignorant even that I was an American, concluded to receive 
 me on trial. It was here that I had not only frequent opportunities to see 
 his royal majesty in person, in his frequent resorts to this, one of his country 
 retreats, but once had the honor of being addressed by him. The fact was, 
 that I had not been one week employed in the garden, before the suspicion 
 of my being either a prisoner of war, or a spy, in the employ of the Ameri 
 can rebels, was communicated, not only to the overseer and other persons 
 employed in the garden, but even the king himself! As I was one day 
 busily engaged with three others in graveling a walk, I was unexpectedly 
 accosted by his majesty : who, with much apparent good nature, inquired of 
 me of what country I was. "An American born, may it please your ma 
 jesty," was my reply, taking off my hat, which he requested me instantly 
 to replace on my head. "Ah !" continued he, with a smile, "an American, 
 a stubborn, a very stubborn people indeed ! And what brought you to this 
 country, and how long have you been here ?" " The fate of war, your ma 
 jesty. I was brought to this country a prisoner about eleven months since." 
 And, thinking this a favorable opportunity to acquaint him with a few of 
 rr.y grievances, I briefly stated to him how much I had been harassed by 
 the soldiers. " While here employed, they will not trouble you," was the 
 only reply he made and passed on. The familiar manner in which I wag 
 interrogated by his majesty, had, I must confess, a tendency in some degree 
 
176 ADVENTUEES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 to prepossess me in his favor. I at least suspected him to possess a dispo 
 sition less tyrannical, and capable of better views than had been imputed to 
 him ; and as I had frequently heard it represented in America, that uninflu 
 enced by such of his ministers, as unwisely disregarded the reiterated com 
 plaints of the American people, he would have been foremost to have re 
 dressed their grievances, of which they so justly complained. 
 
 I continued in the service of his majesty s gardener at Quew about four 
 months, when the season having arrived in which the work of the gardener 
 required less laborers, I, with three others, was discharged ; and the day 
 after engaged myself for a few months, to- a farmer in the town and neigh 
 borhood where I had been last employed but, not one week had expired 
 before the old story of my being an American prisoner of war, etc., was re 
 vived and industriously circulated, and the soldiers, eager to obtain the prof 
 fered bounty, like a pack of blood-hounds were again on the track seeking 
 an opportunity to surprise me. The house wherein I had taken up my 
 abode, was several times thoroughly searched by them, but I was always so 
 fortunate as to discover their approach in season. 
 
 I had been strongly of the opinion by what I had myself experienced, 
 that America was not without her friends in England, and those who were 
 her well-wishers in the important cause in which she was at that moment 
 engaged ; an opinion which I think no one will disagree with me in saying, 
 was somewhat confirmed by a circumstance of that importance as entitles it 
 to a conspicious place in my narrative. At a moment when driven almost 
 to a state of despondency, by continual alarms and fears of falling into the 
 hands of a set of desperadoes, who for a very small reward would willingly 
 have undertaken the commission of almost any crime ; I received a message 
 from a gentleman of respectability of Brintford, J. Woodstock, Esq., re 
 questing me to repair immediately to his house. 
 
 I reached his house about eight o clock in the evening, aud after re 
 ceiving from him at the door assurances that I might enter without fear or 
 apprehension of any design on his part against me, I suffered myself to be 
 introduced into a private chamber, where were seated two other gentlemen, 
 who appeared to be persons of no mean rank, and proved to be no other 
 than Home Tooke and James Bridges, Esqs. names which ought to be 
 dear to every true American. 
 
 Finding me firmly attached to the interest of my country, so much so as 
 to be willing to sacrifice even my life if necessary in her behalf, they began 
 to address me with less reserve ; and after bestowing the highest encomiums 
 on my countrymen, for the bravery which they had displayed in their recent 
 engagements with the British troops as well as for their patriotism in pub 
 licly manifesting their abhorrence and detestation of the ministerial party in 
 England, who to alienate their affections and to enslave them, had endea 
 vored to subvert the British constitution, they inquired of me if, to promote 
 the interests of my country, I should have any objection to take a trip to 
 Paris, on an important mission, if my passage and other expenses were paid, 
 and a generous compensation allowed me for my trouble ; and which in all 
 probability would lead to the means whereby I might be enabled to return 
 to my country to which I replied that I should have none. After having 
 enjoined upon me to keep everything which they had communicated, a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 177 
 
 profound secret, they presented me with a guinea, and a letter for a gentle 
 men in White Waltam, a country town about thirty miles from Brintford, 
 which they requested me to reach as soon as possible, and there remain un 
 til they should send for me, and by no means to fail to arrive at the precise 
 hour that they should appoint. 
 
 After partaking of a little refreshment, I set out, at twelve o clock at 
 night, and reached White Waltam at half past eleven the succeeding day, 
 and immediately waited on and presented the letter to the gentleman to 
 whom it was directed, and who gave me a very cordial reception, ai.d 
 whom I soon found was as real a friend to America s cause as the three 
 gentlemen in whose company I had last been. It was from him that I re 
 ceived the first information of the evacuation of Boston by the British 
 troops, and of the Declaration of Independence, by the American Congress. 
 He indeed appeared to possess a knowledge of almost every important 
 transaction in America, since the memorable battle of Bunker Hill. 
 
 I remained in the family of this gentleman about a fortnight, when I re 
 ceived a letter from Squire Woodcock, requesting me to be at his house, 
 without fail, precisely at two o clock the morning ensuing. In compliance 
 with which I packed up and started immediately for Brintford, and reached 
 the house of Squire Woodcock at the appointed hour. I found there, in 
 company with the latter, two gentlemen whose names I have before men 
 tioned, and by whom the object of my mission to Paris was now made 
 known to me which was to convey in the most secret manner possible a 
 letter to Dr. Franklin. Everything was in readiness, and a chaise ready 
 harnessed which was to convey me to Charing Cross, waiting at the door. I 
 was presented with a pair of boots, made expressly for me, and for the safe 
 conveyance of the letter of which I was to be the bearer, one of them con 
 tained a false heel, in which the letter was deposited, and was to be thus 
 conveyed to the doctor. After again repeating my former declarations, that 
 whatever might be my fate, they should never be exposed, I departed, and 
 was conveyed in quick time to Charing Cross, where I took the post-coach 
 for Dover, and from thence was immediately conveyed in a packet to Calais, 
 and in fifteen minutes after landing, started for Paris ; which I reached in 
 safety, and delivered to Dr. Franklin the letter of which I was the bearer. 
 
 What were the contents of this letter I was never informed and never 
 knew, but had little doubt that it contained important information relative 
 to the views of the British cabinet, as regarded the affairs of America ; and 
 although I well knew that a discovery, while in the British dominions, 
 would have proved equally fatal to me as to the gentlemen by whom I wa* 
 employed, yet, I most solemnly declare, that to be serviceable to my coun 
 try at that important period, was much more of an object with me, than the 
 reward which I had been promised, however considerable it might be. My 
 interview with Dr. Franklin was a pleasing one ; for nearly an hour he con 
 versed with me in the most agreeable and instructive manner, and listened 
 to the tale of ray sufferings with much apparent interest, and seemed dis 
 posed to encourage me with the assurance that if the Americans should suc 
 ceed in their grand object, and firmly establish their independence, thoy 
 would not fail to remunerate their soldiers for their services. But, alas ! as 
 regards myself, these assurances Jhave not as yet been verified. 
 
178 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 After remaining two days in Paris, letters were delivered to me by the 
 doctor, to convey to the gentlemen by whom I had been employed, and 
 which for their better security, as well as my own, I deposited as the other, 
 in the heel of niy boot ; in which manner, to the great satisfaction of my 
 friends, I reached Brintford, in safety, and without exciting the suspicion of 
 any one as to the important, although somewhat dangerous, mission that I 
 had been engaged in. I remained secreted in the house of Squire Wood 
 cock a few days, and then by his and the two other gentlemen s request, 
 made a second trip to Paris, and in reaching which and in delivering my 
 letters, was equally as fortunate as in my first. If I should succeed in re 
 turning in safety to Brintford this trip, I was, agreeable to the generous pro 
 posal of Doctor Franklin, to return immediately to France, from whence ha 
 was to procure me a passage to America. But, although in my return I met 
 with no difficulty, yet, as if fate had selected me as a victim to endure the 
 miseries and privations which afterward attended me, but three hours before 
 I reached Dover to engage a passage for the third and last time to Calais, all 
 intercourse between the two countries was prohibited. 
 
 My flattering expectations of being enabled soon to return to my native 
 country, and once more to meet and enjoy the society of my friends, after 
 an absence of more than twelve months, being thus by an unforeseen cir 
 cumstance completely destroyed, I returned immediately to the gentlemen 
 by whom I had been last employed to advise with them what it would be 
 best for me to do, in my then unpleasant situation for indeed, as all pros 
 pects were now at an end of meeting with an opportunity very soon to re 
 turn to America, I could not bear the idea of remaining any longer in a 
 neighborhood where I was so strongly suspected of being a fugitive from 
 justice and under continual apprehension of being retaken, and immured 
 like a felon in a dungeon. 
 
 By these gentlemen 1 was advised to repair immediately to London, 
 where, employed as a laborer, if I did not imprudently betray myself, they 
 thought there was little probability of my being suspected of being an 
 American. This advice I readily accepted as the plan was such a one as 
 exactly accorded with my opinion. 
 
 I ought here to state that before I set out for London, I was entrusted by 
 these gentlemen with five guineas, which I was requested to convey and dis 
 tribute among a number of Americans, then confined as prisoners of war, 
 in one of the city prisons. 
 
 I reached London late in the evening, and the next day engaged board at 
 five shillings per week, at a public house in Lombard street, where, under a 
 fictitious name, I passed for a farmer from Lincolnshire. My next object 
 was to find my way to the prison where were confined as prisoners of war a 
 number of my countrymen, and among whom I was directed to distribute 
 the five guineas with which I had been entrusted for that purpose by 
 their friends at Brintford. I found the prison without much difficulty, but 
 it was with very considerable difficulty that I gained admittance, and not 
 until I had presented the turnkey with a considerable fee would he consent 
 to indulge me. The reader will suppose that I must have been very much 
 surprised, when, as soon as the door of the prisoner s apartment was opened, 
 and I had passed the threshold, to hear one of them exclaim, with much 
 
OF AMERICANS. 179 
 
 apparent astonishment, " Potter ! is that you ! how in the name of heaven 
 came you here !" An exclamation like this by one of a number to whom 
 I supposed myself a perfect stranger, caused me much uneasiness for a few 
 moments, as I expected nothing less than to recognize in this man, some 
 one of my old shipmates, who had undoubtedly a knowledge of the fact 
 of my being a prisoner of war, and having been confined as such on 
 board the guard ship at Spithead. But, in this I soon found to my satisfac 
 tion that I was mistaken, for after viewing for a moment the person by whom 
 I had been thus addressed, I discovered him to be no other than my old 
 friend Sergeant Singles, with whom I had been intimately acquainted in 
 America. As the exclamation was in presence of the turnkey, lest I 
 should have the key turned upon me, and be considered as lawful a pris 
 oner as any of the rest, I hinted to my friend that he certainly mistook mo 
 (a Lincolnshire farmer) for another person, and by a wink which he received 
 from me at the same moment, gave him to understand that a renewal of our 
 acquaintance or an exchange of civilities would be more agreeable to me at 
 any other time. I now, as I had been requested, divided the money as 
 equally as possible among them, and to prevent the suspicions of the keeper, 
 I represented to them, in a feigned dialect peculiar to the laboring people of 
 the Shire-towns, that, " me master was owing a little trille or so to a rebel 
 trader of one of his majesty s American provinces, and was quested by him 
 to pay the balance to his brother Yankee rebels here imprisoned." 
 
 I found the poor fellows, fifteen in number, confined in a dark filthy 
 apartment of about eighteen feet square; and which I could not perceivo 
 contained anything but a rough plank bench of about ten feet in length, and 
 a heap of straw with one or two tattered, filthy looking blankets spread 
 thereon, which was pr obably the only bedding allowed them. For four or 
 .ve days, after 1 reached London, I did very little more than walk about the 
 ity, viewing such curiosities as met my eye ; when, reflecting that reroain- 
 ng thus idle, I should not only be very soon out of funds, but should run 
 the risk of being suspected and apprehended as belonging to one of the 
 numerous gangs of pickpockets, etc., which infest the streets oi the city ; I 
 applied to an intelligence office for a coachman s berth, which I was so 
 fortunate as to procure, at fifteen shillings per week. My employer, 
 J. Hyslop, Esq., although rigid in his exactions, was punctual in his pay 
 ments, and by my strict prudence and abstinence from the numerous diver 
 sions of tho city, I was enabled in the six months which I served him, to lav 
 op more cash than what I had earned the twelve months preceding. The 
 next business, in which I engaged was that of brickmaking, and which 
 together with that of gardening, I pursued in the summer seasons almost 
 exclusively for five years ; in all which time I was not once suspected of 
 being an American. 
 
 Despairing of meeting with a favorable opportunity to return to America, 
 mntil the conclusion of peace, and the prospects of a continuation of the 
 war being as great then (by what I could learn) as at any period from its 
 commencement, I became more reconciled to my situation, and contracted an 
 intimacy with a young woman whose parents were poor and respectable-, and 
 who I soon after married. I took a small ready-furnished chamber in Red 
 Cross street, where with the fruits cf my hard earnings, I was enabled to 
 12 
 
180 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 live tolerably comfortable for three or four years when, by sickness and 
 other unavoidable circumstances, I was doomed to endure miseries uncom 
 mon to human nature. 
 
 In the winter of 1781, news was received in London of the surrender of 
 the army of Lord Gornwallis, to the French and American forces ! Tho 
 receipt of news of an event so unexpected operated on the British ministers 
 and members of Parliament, like a tremendous clap of thunder. Deep sor 
 row was evidently depicted in the countenances of those who had been 
 the most strenuous advocates for the war never was there a time in which 
 I longed more to exult, and to declare myself a true-blooded Yankee. 
 
 In September 1783, the glorious news of a definitive treaty of peace hav 
 ing been signed between the United States and Great Britain, was publicly 
 announced in London. An opportunity indeed now presented for me to 
 return once more to my native country, after so long an absence, had I pos 
 sessed the means ; but such was the high price demanded for a passage, and 
 such had been my low wages, and the expenses attending the support of 
 even a small family in London, that I found myself at this time in pos 
 session of funds hardly sufficient to defray the expense of my own passage, 
 and much less that of my wife and child. 
 
 To make the best of my hard fortune, I became as resigned and reconciled 
 to my situation as circumstances would admit of. I continued to work for 
 very small wages, for three or four years after the peace but still found 
 my prospects of a speedy return to my country, by no ways flattering. The 
 peace had thrown thousands who had taken an active part in the war, out 
 of employment ; London was thronged with them who, in preference to 
 starving, required no other consideration for their labor than an humble 
 living, which had a lamentable effect in reducing the wages of the laboring 
 class of people ; who, previous to this event were many of them so ex- 
 iremely poor, as to be scarcely able to procure the necessaries of life fox 
 -their impoverished families. 
 
 Among this class I must rank myself, and from this period ought I to 
 date the commencement of my greatest miseries, which never failed to at 
 tend me in a greater or less degree until that happy moment, when favored 
 by providence,, I was permitted once more to visit the peaceful shores ol 
 the land of -my nativity. 
 
 Having in vain sought for more profitable business, I was induced to 
 apply to an acquaintance for instruction in the art of chair bottoming, and 
 which I partially obtained from him for a trifling consideration. 
 
 It was now (which was in the year 1789) that I assumed a line of busi 
 ness very different from that in which I had ever before been engaged. 
 
 Fortunately for me, I possessed strong lungs, which I found very neces 
 sary in an employment the -success of which depended, in a great measure, 
 in being enabled to drown the voices of others, engaged in the same occu 
 pation, by my own. " Old chairs to mend," became now my constant cry 
 through the streets of London, from morning to night : and although j 
 found my business not so profitable as I could have wished, yet it 
 yielded a tolerable support for my family some time, and probably would 
 have continued so to have done, had not the almost constant illness cf my 
 .children, rendered the expenses of my family, much greater than they 
 
OF AMERICANS. 181 
 
 otherwise would have been. Thus afflicted by additional cares and expense, 
 although I did everything in my power to avoid it, I was obliged to alleviate 
 the sufferings of my family, to contract some trifling debts which it was not 
 in my power to discharge. 
 
 I now became the victim of additional miseries I was visited by a bailiff 
 employed by a creditor, who seizing me with the claws of a tiger, dragged 
 me from my poor afflicted family and inhumanly thrust me into prison ! 
 
 Fortunately for me, at this melancholy moment, my wife enjoyed good 
 health, and it was to her praiseworthy exertions that her poor helpless chil 
 dren, as well as myself, owed our preservation from a state of starvation ! 
 
 After having for four months languished in a horrid prison, I was liberated 
 therefrom a mere skeleton ; the mind afflicted had tortured the body, so 
 much is the one in subjection to the other. I returned sorrowful and de 
 jected to my afflicted family, whom I found in very little better condition. 
 
 We now, from necessity, took up our abode in an obscure situation near 
 Moorfields ; where, by my constant application to business, I succeeded in 
 earning daily an humble pittance for my family, barely sufficient however to 
 satisfy the cravings of nature ; and to add to my afflictions, some one of my 
 family was almost constantly indisposed. 
 
 However wretched my situation, there were many others at this period, 
 with whom I was particularly acquainted, whose sufferings were greater if 
 possible than my. own ; and whom want and misery drove to the commission 
 of crimes, that in any other situation they would probably not have been 
 guilty of. 
 
 While hundreds were daily becoming the wretched victims of hunger and 
 etarvation, I was enabled by my industry to obtain a morsel each day for 
 my family ; although this morsel, which was to be divided among four, 
 would many times have proved insufficient to have satisfied the hunger of 
 one. I seldom evei failed from morning to night to cry "old chairs to mend," 
 through the principal streets of the city, but many times with very little 
 success if I obtained four chairs to rebottom in the course of one day, I 
 considered myself fortunate indeed, but instances of such good luck wero 
 very rare ; it was more frequent that I did not obtain a single one, and after 
 crying the whole day until I made myself hoarse, I was obliged to return to 
 my poor family at night empty handed. 
 
 So many at one time engaged in the same business, that had I not resorted 
 to other means my family must inevitable have starved while crying "old 
 chairs to mend," I collected all the old rags, bits of paper, nails and broken 
 glass which I could find in the streets, and which I deposited in a bag, 
 that I carried with me for the purpose these produced me a trifle, and 
 that trifle when other resources failed, procured me a morsel of bread, or a 
 few pounds of potatoes, for my poor wife and children. 
 
 In February, 1792, war was declared by Great Britain against the Repub 
 lic of France. So many poor people enlisted into the army, that it greatly 
 improved the condition of those left behind. I no longer found it necessary 
 to collect the scrapings <of the streets a? I had been obliged to do for tho 
 many months past I was now enabled to purchase for my family two or 
 three pounds of fresh meat each week, an article to which, with one or two 
 exceptions, we had been strangers for more than a year having subsisted 
 
182 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 principally on potatoes, oat-meal bread, and salt fish, and sometimes but 
 rarely however, were enabled to treat ourselves to a little skim milk. 
 
 Had not other afflictions attended me, I should not have had much cause 
 to complain of very extraordinary hardships or privations, from this period 
 until the conclusion of the war in 1807 ; my family had increased, and to 
 increase my cares there was scarcely a week passed but that some one of 
 them was seriously indisposed of ten children of which I was the father ; 
 I had the misfortune to bury seven under five years of age, and two mere 
 after they had arrived to the age of twenty my last and only child now 
 living, it pleased the Almighty to spare unto me, to administer help and 
 comfort to his poor afflicted parent, and without whose assistance I should, 
 so far from having been enabled once more to visit the land of my nativity, 
 ere this have paid the debt of nature in a foreign land, and that too by a 
 death no less horrible than that of starvation ! 
 
 As my life was unattended with any very extraordinary circumstance, 
 except the one just mentioned, from the commencement of the war, until 
 the re-establishment of monarchy in France, and the cessation of hostilities 
 on the part of Great Britain, in 1807, I shall commence on the narration of 
 my unparalleled sufferings, from the latter period, until that when by the 
 kind interposition of Providence, I was enabled finally to obtain a passage 
 to my native country ; and to bid an adieu, and I hope and trust a final one, 
 to that island, where I had endured a complication of miseries beyond the 
 power of description. 
 
 The peace produced similar effects to that of 1783 thousands were 
 thrown out of employ and the streets of London thronged with soldiers 
 seeking means to earn an humble subsistence. The cry of " old chairs to 
 mend," and that too at a very reduced price, was reiterated through tho 
 streets of London by numbers who but the month before were at Waterloo 
 fighting the battles of their country which, so seriously affected my business 
 in this line, that to obtain food, and that of the most humble kind for my 
 family, I was obliged once more to have recourse to the collecting of scraps 
 of rags, paper, glass, and such other articles of however trifling value that I 
 could find in the streets. 
 
 The tenement which I at this time rented, and which was occupied by 
 ray family, was a small and wretched apartment of a garret, and for which I 
 had obliged myself to pay sixpence per day, which was to be paid at the 
 close of every week ; and in case of failure, agreeably to the laws or customs 
 of the land, my furniture was liable to be seized. In consequence of my 
 illness, and other misfortunes, I fell six weeks in arrears for rent, and having 
 returned one evening with my wife and son, from the performance of our 
 daily task, my kind readers may judge what my feelings must have been to 
 find our room stripped of every article, of however trifling value, that it 
 contained. Alas, O heavens I to what a state of wretchedness were we now- 
 reduced ! If there was anything wanting to complete our misery, this addi 
 tional drop to the cup of our afflictions, more than sufficed. Although the 
 real value of all that they had taken from me, or rather robbed me of wculd 
 not if publicly disposed of have produced a sum probably exceeding five 
 dollars ; yet it was our all, except the few tattered garments that we had on 
 our backs, and were serviceable and all important to "is in our impoverished 
 
OF AMERICANS. 183 
 
 situation. Not an article of bedding of any kind was left us on which to 
 repose at night, or a chair or stool on which we could rest our wearied limbs 1 
 but, as destitute as we were, and naked as they had left our dreary apart 
 ment, we had nc other abiding place. 
 
 To add to our distress my poor wife fell very sick. The attendance that 
 her helpless situation now demanded, it was not within my power to afford 
 her, as early the next day I was reluctantly driven by hunger abroad in 
 search of something that might serve to contribute to our relief. I left my 
 unfortunate companion, attend by no other person but our little son, desti- 
 tutt of fuel and food, and stretched on an armful of straw, which I had been 
 so fortunate as to provide myself with the day preceding ; the whole 
 produce of my labors, this day (which I may safely say was the most mel 
 ancholy one of my life) amounted to no more than one shilling ! which I 
 laid out to the best advantage possible, in the purchase of a few of the 
 necessaries, which the situation of my sick companion most required. Thus 
 situated, I was induced to make my application to the overseer for assist 
 ance, representing to him the deplorable situation of my family, who were 
 actually starving for the want of that sustenance which it was not in my 
 power to procure for them. The hard-hearted official thereupon said that 
 I was a vile impostor, who was seeking by imposition to obtain that support 
 in England, which my own country had withheld from me that the 
 American Yankees had fought for and obtained their independence, and yet 
 were not independent enough to support their own poor ! that Great 
 Britain would find enough to do, were she to afford relief to every d d 
 Yankee vagabond that should apply for it ! Fortunately for this abusive 
 British scoundrel, I possessed not now that bodily strength and activity, 
 which I could once boast of, or the villian (whether within his majesty s 
 dominions or not) should have received on the spot a proof of " Yankee 
 independence" for his insolence. 
 
 I succeeded finally in persuading some gentlemen to use their influence 
 to have my poor wife removed to the hospital. But it was too late. She 
 lingered a few days in a state of perfect insensibility, and then closed her 
 eyes forever on a world, where for many years, she had been the unhappy 
 subject of almost constant affliction. 
 
 My situation was now truly a lonely one, bereaved of my wife, and all 
 my children except one ; who, although but little more than seven years of 
 age, was a child of that sprightliness and activity, as to possess himself with 
 a perfect knowledge of the chair-bottoming business, and by which he earned 
 not only enough (when work could be obtained) to furnish himself with 
 food, but contribute much to the relief of his surviving parent, when con 
 fined by illness and infirmity. 
 
 When my health would permit, I seldom failed to visit daily the most 
 public streets of the city, and from morning to night cry for old chairs to 
 mend accompanied by my son Thomas. If we were so fortunate as to 
 obtain a job of work more than we could complete in the day, with the per. 
 mission of the owner, I would convey the chairs on my back to my huml> 
 dwelling, and with the assistance of my little son, improve the evening to 
 complete the work, which would produce us a few halfpennies to purchase 
 something for our breakfast the next morning. But it was very seldom that 
 
184 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 instances of this kind occurred, as it was more frequently the case that, after 
 crying for old chairs to mend the whole day, we were obliged to return, 
 hungry and weary, and without a single halfpenny in our pockets, to our 
 humble dwelling, where we were obliged to fast until the succeeding day 
 and indeed there were some instances in which we were compelled to fast 
 two or three days successively, without being able to procure a single job of 
 work. The rent I had obliged myself to pay every night, and frequently 
 when our hunger was such as hardly to be endured, I was obliged to reserve 
 the few pennies that I was possessed of to apply to this purpose. 
 
 In our most starving condition, when every other plan failed, my little 
 son would adopt the expedient of sweeping the public causeways leading 
 from one walk to the other, where he would labor the whole day, with_ the 
 expectation of receiving no other reward than what the generosity of gentle 
 men, who had occasion to cross, would induce them to bestow in charity, and 
 which seldom amounted to more than a few pennies. Sometimes the poor 
 boy would toil in this way the whole day, without being so fortunate as to 
 receive a single halfpenny it was then he would return home sorrowful 
 and dejected, and while he attempted to conceal his own hunger, with teara 
 in his eyes, would lament his hard fortune in not being able to obtain some 
 thing to appease mine. While he was thus employed I remained at home, 
 but not idle, being as busily engaged in making matches, with which (when 
 he returned home empty handed) we were obliged, as fatigued as we were, 
 to visit the markets to expose for sale, and where we were obliged some 
 times to tarry until eleven o clock at night, before we could meet with a 
 single purchaser. 
 
 Having one stormy night of a Saturday, visited the market with my son 
 for this purpose, and after exposing ourselves to the chilling rain until past 
 ten o clock, without being able either of us to sell a single match, I advised 
 the youth, being thinly clad, to return home, feeling disposed to tarry 
 myself a while longer, in hopes that better success might attend me, as 
 having already fasted one day and night, it was indispensably necessary that 
 I should obtain something to appease our hunger the succeeding day (Sun 
 day) or what seemed almost impossible, to endure longer its torments ! I 
 remained until the clock struck eleven, the hour at which the market 
 closed, and yet had met with no better success! It is impossible to de 
 scribe the sensation of despondency which overwhelmed me at thia 
 moment ! I now considered it as certain that I must return home with 
 nothing wherewith to satisfy our craving appetities and with my mind 
 filled with the most heart-rending reflections, I was about to return, when, 
 Heaven seemed pleased to interpose in my behalf, and to send relief when 
 I little expected it. Passing a beefstall I attracted the notice of the butcher, 
 who viewing me probably as I was, a miserable object of pity, emaciated by 
 long fastings, and clad in tattered garments, from which the water was fast 
 drippling, and judging no doubt by my appearance, that on no one could 
 charity be more properly bestowed, he threw into my basket a beefs heart, 
 with the request that I would depart with it immediately for my home, if 
 any I had ! I will not attempt to describe the joy that I felt on this occa 
 sion, in so unexpectedly meeting with that relief which my situation so 
 "nuch required. I hastened home with a much lighter heart than what I 
 
OF AMERICANS. 185 
 
 had anticipated ; and when I arrived the sensations of joy exhibited by my 
 little son on viewing the prize that I bore, produced effects as various as 
 extraordinary ; he wept, then laughed and danced with transport. 
 
 In long and gloomy winter evenings, when unable to furnish myself with 
 any other light than that emitted by a little fire of sea-coal, I would attempt 
 to drive away melancholy by amusing my son with an account of my 
 native country, and of the many blessings there enjoyed by even the poorest 
 class of people of their fair fields producing a regular supply of bread 
 their covenient houses, to which they could repair after the toils of the day, 
 to partake of the fruits of their labor, safe from the storms and the cold, and 
 where they could lay down their heads to rest without any to molest them 
 or to make them afraid. Nothing could have been better calculated to ex 
 cite animation in the mind of the poor child, than an account so flattering of 
 a country which had given birth to his father, and to which he had re 
 ceived my repeated assurances he should accompany me as soon as an op 
 portunity should present. After expressing his fears that the happy day 
 was yet far distant, with a deep sigh, he would exclaim, " Would to God it 
 was to-morrow !" 
 
 About a year after the decease of my wife, I was taken extremely ill, inso 
 much that at one time my life was despaired of, and had it not been for tho 
 friendless and lonely situation in which such an event would have placed 
 my son, I should have welcomed the hour of my dissolution, and viewed it 
 as a consummation rather to be wished than dreaded ; for so great had been 
 my sufferings of mind and body, and the miseries to which I was still ex 
 posed, that life had really become a burden to me indeed, I think it would 
 have been difficult to have found on the face of the earth a being moro 
 wretched than I had been for the three years past. 
 
 During my illness my only friend on earth was my son Thomas, who dii 
 everything to alleviate my wants within the power of his age to do. Some 
 times by crying for old chairs to mend (for he had become as expert a work 
 man at this business as his father), and sometimes by sweeping the cause 
 ways, and by making and selling matches, he succeeded in earning each day 
 a trifle sufficient to procure for me and himself an humble sustenance. 
 
 From the moment that I had informed him of the many blessings en 
 joyed by my countrymen of every class, I was almost constantly urged by 
 my son to apply to the American consul for a passage. It was in vain that 
 I represented to him, that if such an application was attended with success, 
 and the opportunity should be improved by me, it must cause our sepa 
 ration, perhaps, forever ; as he would not be permitted to accompany m 
 at the expense of government. 
 
 At length, having learned the place of residence of the American consul, 
 and fearful of the consequences of delay, he would give me no peace until 
 I promised that I would accompany him there the succeeding day, if my 
 strength would admit of it ; for although I had partially recovered from a 
 severe fit of sickness, yet I was still so weak and feeble as to be scarcely 
 able to walk. 
 
 My son did not forget to remind me early the next morning of my pro 
 mise, and to gratify him, more than with an expectation of meeting with 
 much success, I set out with him, feeble as I was, for the consul s. I wai 
 
186 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 never before so sensible of the effects of my long suffering which had 
 produced that degree of bodily weakness and debility, as to leave me scarcely 
 strength sufficient to move without the assistance of my son ; who, when 
 lie found me reeling or halting through weakness, would support me until 
 I had gained sufficient strength to proceed. 
 
 Although the distance was but two miles, yet such was the state of my 
 weakness, that although we started early in the morning, it was half past 
 three o clock p. M. when we reached the consul s office, when I was so much 
 exhausted as to be obliged to ascend the steps on my hands and knees. 
 
 Fortunately I found the consul in, and after I had told my story, which 
 at first he would scarcely believe, he informed me that he would procure 
 me a passage at government expense : but that my son, being a British born 
 subject, could not go with me. But that he would send my son at his own 
 expense, provided 1 would agree on his arrival in America to his living with 
 & connection of his. To this I joyfully consented, and my son took passage 
 the next day on the London packet for Boston, while I, being too infirm to 
 take the voyage, was boarded at a public inn at the consul s expense until 
 my health should be in a measure re-established. 
 
 In eight weeks, I was so far recruited by good living, as, in the opinion 
 of the consul, to be able to endure the fatigues of a passage to my native 
 country, and which was procured for me on board the ship Criterion bound 
 to New- York. We set sail on the 5th April, 1823, and after a passage of 
 forty-two days, arrived safe at our port of destination. Such were my pleas 
 ing sensations as we entered the harbor, caused by the reflection that on the 
 morrow I should be permitted to walk once more on American ground, 
 after an absence of almost fifty years, that it was in vain that I attempted 
 to close my eyes in sleep. Never was the morning s dawn so cheerfully 
 welcomed by me ; and as my feet touched the shore, I did not forget to 
 offer up my unfeigned thanks to that Almighty Being, who had not only 
 sustained me during my heavy afflictions abroad, but had finally restored 
 me to my native country. 
 
 From New York, I went to Boston, and there met my son. By his earnest 
 request, I visited Bunker Hill, which he had a curiosity to view, having 
 heard it so frequently spoken of by me while in London, as the place where 
 the memorable battle was fought, and in which I received my wounds. I 
 continued in Boston about a fortnight, and then set out on foot to visit once 
 more my native State. My son accompanied me as far as Roxbury. It 
 may not be improper here to acquaint my readers, that as I had left my 
 father possessed of very considerable property, and of which, at his decease, 
 1 thought myself entitled to a portion equal to that of the other children, 
 which (as my father was very economical in the management of his affairs) 
 I knew could not amount to a very inconsiderable sum. It was to obtain 
 this, if possible, that I became extremely anxious to visit immediately the 
 place of my nativity. Accordingly, the day after I arrived in Providence, I 
 hastened to Cranston, to seek my connections, if anywhere to be found ; and, 
 if not, to seek among the most aged of the inhabitants, some one who had 
 not forgotten me, and who might be able to furnisn me with the sought for 
 information. But, alas, too soon were blasted my hopeful expectations of 
 finding something in reserve forme, that might have afforded me an humble 
 
OF AMERICANS. 1ST 
 
 support, the few remaining years of my life. It was by a distant connection 
 ihat I was informed that my brothers had many years since removed to a 
 distant part of the country that having credited a rumor in circulation of 
 my death, at the decease of my father, had disposed of the real estate of 
 which he died possessed, and had divided the proceeds equally among 
 themselves ! This was another instance of adverse fortune that I had not 
 anticipated ! It was indeed a circumstance so foreign from my mind that I 
 felt myself for the first time, unhappy, since my return to my native country, 
 and even believed myself now doomed to endure among my own countrymen 
 (for whose liberties I had fought and bled) miseries similar to those that 
 had attended me for many years in Europe. With these gloomy forebod 
 ings, I returned to Providence, and contracted for board with the gentleman 
 at whose house I had lodged the first night of my arrival in town, and to 
 whom for the kind treatment that I have received from him, and his family, 
 I shall feel till death under the deepest obligations that gratitude can 
 dictate ; for I can truly say of him, that I was a stranger and he took mo 
 in ; I was hungry and naked, and he fed and clothed me. 
 
 As I had never received any remuneration for services rendered, and 
 hardships endured in the cause of my country, I was now obliged, as my 
 last resort, to petition Congress to be included in that number of the few 
 surviving soldiers of the Revolution, for whose services they had been 
 pleased to grant pensions and I would to God that I could add, fortho 
 honor of my country, that the application met with its deserving success 
 but, although accompanied by the deposition of a respectable gentleman 
 satisfactorily confirming every fact therein stated yet on no other prin 
 ciple, than that I ivas absent from the country when the pension law passed 
 my petition was rejected ! Reader, I have been for thirty years, as you 
 will perceive by what I have stated in the foregoing pages, subject, in a 
 foreign country, to almost all the miseries with which poor human nature is 
 capable of being afflicted yet, in no one instance did I ever feel so great 
 a degree of depression of spirits, as when the fate of my petition was 
 announced to me ! 
 
 To conclude : Although I may be again unfortunate in a renewal of my 
 application to government, for that reward to which my services so justly en 
 title me, yet I feel thankful that I am privileged, after enduring so much, 
 to spend the remainder of my days among those who I am confident are 
 possessed of too much humanity to see me suffer ; and which I am sensible 
 I owe to the divine goodness, which graciously condescended to support me 
 under my numerous afflictions, and finally enabled me to return to my na 
 tive country in the 79th year of my age. For this I return unfeigned 
 thanks to the Almighty ; and hope to give during the remainder of my life, 
 convincing testimonies of the strong impression which those afflictions made 
 on my mind, by devoting myself sincerely to the duties of religion. 
 
 The preceding narrative of one of the more humble sutferers from cur 
 revolutionary contest, we trust, has been found interesting. A literary 
 gentleman wrote down his memoirs from his lips, as here given, slightly 
 
188 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 nbridged. These were published in a small book, with a title nearly iden 
 tical with that which heads this article. A friend at our elbow, recollects 
 when a boy more than thirty years since seeing a little, crooked, long- 
 bearded old man, leaning on a cane, accompanied by a young lad, traveling 
 about the country, peddling this "Life and Remarkable Adventures." Of 
 his subsequent history, we are uninformed ; but he must long ere this have 
 been gathered to his fathers and a neglected spot, in some isolated country 
 church-yard, is, probably the resting-place of the mortal remains of ISRAEL 
 R. POTTER, "a native of Cranston, Rhode Island, who was a soldier in the 
 American Revolution." 
 
THE 
 
 TWO ORATORS 
 
 OF 
 
 OUR REVOLUTIONARY ERA; 
 
 JAMES OTIS, OF MASSACHUSETTS, AND PATRICK HENRY, OP VIRGINIA 
 
 ORATORY is an art more practiced by the American, than by any other 
 people ; and because by none is it so much required. The nature of their 
 institutions demands it, the business of government being with all, and open 
 to all for public discussion. Their facility in extemporaneous oratory is the 
 surprise of other people. That American embassador and historian who 
 astonished English gentlemen at a public dinner in their country, by the 
 force and polished beauty of an unexpected, unprepared speech, only sup 
 plied an example of what others of his countrymen could have equaled. 
 
 We give in these pages sketches of two of the most eminent orators of the 
 era of our revolution JAMES OTIS and PATRICK HENRY. The history of 
 the latter has been made widely known by the genius of Wirt, but of tho 
 former few memorials remain : many whose eyes trace these lines, herein, 
 for the first time, learn his name. Yet before the year 1770, no American, 
 excepting Dr. Franklin, was so well known, and so often named in the 
 colonies and in England. His papers have all perished, none of his speeches 
 were recorded, and he himself was cut off just on the eve of the revolution, 
 so that his name is not associated with familiar public documents. It is 
 owing to this that the most learned, eloquent, and influential man of the 
 time is now so little known, that the following language of President Adams 
 seemed exaggerated, although Chief Justice Dana, and other eminent char 
 acters, used commendation equally strong. Says President Adams : " I 
 have been young, and now am old, and I solemnly say, I have never known 
 a man whose love of his country was more ardent or sincere ; never, one 
 who suffered so much ; never, one whose services for any ten years of his 
 life were so important and essential to the cause of his country, as those of 
 Mr. Otis, from 1760 to 1770." 
 
 JAMES OTIS was the son of Colonel James Otis, and was born at West 
 Barnstable, Massachusetts, February 5, 1724. He was educated at Harvard, 
 studied law, and settled in Boston, where he soon attained to the highest 
 rank in his profession. 
 
 He came upon the stage at a time when the mother country had deter 
 mined to enforce her "Acts of Trade," laws of parliament which bore with 
 crushing force upon the industry and enterprise of the colonies, especially 
 
190 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 those of New England. These people were descended from that virtuous, 
 but stern and inflexible part of the English nation, who, determined not to 
 bear the chains of religious and kingly tyranny, had sought and found a 
 home in the wilds of a new continent at a vast expense of blood and suffer 
 ing. They owed nothing to the royal government but their charter, yet the 
 moment they began to overcome the first great trials of their new settle 
 ment, they were doomed to submit to a system of restrictive laws, calculated 
 to crush them to poverty. Having no great staple of agriculture, the only 
 resource for accumulating the comforts and luxuries of life were commerce 
 and manufactures ; but here their exertions were impeded by these laws. 
 These forbade them to manufacture, because the manufactures of England 
 would be injured ; they were restricted in their commerce, because the 
 English shipping-interest would suffer. Even the fish they caught off their 
 own coast, they were not allowed to sell for French and Spanish molasses, 
 because the English sugar colonies in the West Indies would be thus 
 deprived of the monopoly of supplying them with the finny tribe. They 
 could not import teas from Holland, because it interfered with the East 
 India Company ; in fine, they could not trade with Spain and Portugal, cor 
 with any other nation. Everything brought to the colonies must be in 
 English-built ships, owned in England, and manned by English sailors. 
 The boasted protection of the mother country was, to use the language of 
 Sir Edmund Burke, "perfect uncompensated slavery." 
 
 Immediately after the conquest of Canada, in 1760, the custom-house 
 officers, in compliance with instructions from England, began to take 
 measures to strictly enforce all these obnoxious laws, some of which had 
 remained a dead letter. As a preliminary measure, an order in council was 
 received to carry into effect these laws of trade, and to apply to the Supreme 
 Court of the province for writs of assistance, a species of search warrant to be 
 granted to the officers of customs, to search for goods on which duties had 
 not been paid. 
 
 Hutchinson, the Lieutenant Governor of the province, was at this juncture 
 appointed by the crown Chief Justice of the Supreme Court ; thus, for the 
 time, having united in his one person the highest judicial and executive 
 offices in the province. This extraordinary power conferred upon one man, 
 evinced the unfriendly designs of government, and was a cause of just alarm 
 to all reflecting minds. Otis was at this time Advocate General : believing 
 these laws were illegal and tyrannical, he refused to give his official assist 
 ance, and at once resigned his office, which was not only very lucrative, 
 but, if filled by an incumbent of a compliant spirit, led to the highest favors 
 from the crown. 
 
 The merchants of Boston and Salem engaged Otis and Thatcher to make 
 their defense. The trial took place in February, 1761, in the council 
 chamber of the old Town House in Boston, before Lieutenant Governor 
 Hutchinson, as Chief Justice, with four Associate Judges. The court was 
 crowded with the most eminent citizens, deeply solicitous in the cause 
 
 The case was opened for government by Mr. Gridley, the old law tutor of 
 Otis, and very ably argued : in all his points he made his reasoning depend 
 upon this consideration " if the parliament of Great Britain is the sove 
 reign legislator of the British Empire, then, etc." He was replied to by MJE, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 19] 
 
 Thatcher, in an ingenious, sensible speech, delivered with great mildress. 
 " But," in the language of President Adams, " Otis was a flame of fire ; with 
 a promptitude of classical allusions, a depth of research, a rapid summary of 
 historical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic 
 glance of his eyes into futurity, and a rapid torrent of impetuous eloquence, 
 he hurried away all before him. American Independence was then and 
 there born. The seeds of patriots and heroes were then and there sown. 
 Every man of an immense, crowded audience, appeared to me to go away 
 as I did, ready to take up arms against writs of assistance. Then and there 
 was the first scene of tlie first act of opposition, to the arbitrary claims of Great 
 Britain. Then and there the child INDEPENDENCE was born. In fifteen 
 years, t. e. in 1776, he grew up to manhood, and declared himself free." 
 
 In opening this case, Otis said, "I will to my dying day oppose with all 
 the powers and faculties God has given me, all such instruments of slavery 
 on the one hand, and villainy on the other, as is this writ of assistance. It 
 appears to me the worst instrument of arbitrary power, the most destructive 
 of English liberties and the fundamental principles of law, that ever was 
 found in an English law book." Pie then went on to speak of his resigning 
 his office of Advocate General, that he might argue this cause, of the enemies 
 he thereby had made, and how from his very soul he despised them. " Let," 
 added he, "the consequences be what they will, I am determined to proceed. 
 The only principles of public conduct that are worthy of a gentleman or a 
 man, are to sacrifice estate, ease, health, and applause, and even life, to the 
 sacred calls of his country. These manly sentiments, in private life, make 
 the good citizen ; in public life, the patriot and the hero. I do not say that, 
 when brought to the test, I shall be invincible. I pray God that I may 
 never be brought to the melancholy trial, but if ever I should, it will then 
 be known how far I can reduce to practice, principles which I know to be 
 founded in truth." He then proceeded with the subject of the writ, which 
 the officers of the revenue were afraid to use without the sanction of the 
 Superior Court. That it was impossible to devise a more outrageous instru 
 ment of tyranny, one which naturally led to such enormous abuses. 
 
 "This writ," said he, "being general, is illegal. I admit that special 
 writs of assistance, to search special places, may be granted to certain persons 
 on oath ; but I deny that the writ now prayed for can be granted. In tho 
 first place the writ is universal, being directed to all and singular justices, 
 sheriffs, constables, and all other officers, and subjects ; so that it is in short 
 directed to every subject in the king s dominions. Everyone with this writ 
 may be a tyrant in a legal manner, also, may control, imprison, or mnrder 
 any one within the realm. In the next place, it is perpetual there is no 
 return. A man is accountable to no person for his doings. Every man may 
 reign secure in his petty tyranny, and spread terror and desolation around 
 him, until the trump of the archangel shall excite different emotions in his 
 soul. By this writ not only deputies, but their menial servants, in the day 
 time, may enter our houses, shops, etc., at will, and command all to assist 
 them ; and thus lord it over us. What is this but to have the curse of 
 Canaan with a witness on us ; to be the servant of servants, the most despi 
 cable of God s creation ? Now, one of the most essential branches of English 
 liberty, is the freedom of one s house. A man s house is his castle ; and 
 
192 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 while he is quiet, he is as well guarded in it, as a prince is in his. This 
 writ, if declared legal, would totally annihilate privilege. Custom-house 
 officers, with their menials, may enter our houses when they please, may 
 break locks, bars, and everything in their way ; and whether they break 
 through malice or revenge, no man, no court can inquire. Bare suspicion 
 without oath is sufficient." He cited some facts in proof of this, and then 
 went on to show, by an old statute, that any person, as well as the custom 
 house officers, had this power. " What a scene," said he, " does this open ? 
 Every man, prompted by revenge, ill humor, or wantonness, to inspect the 
 inside of his neighbor s house, may get a writ of assistance. Others will ask 
 it from self-defense. One arbitrary act will provoke another, until society 
 be involved in tumult and in blood." 
 
 His argument lasted about five hours, and the summary of it can now 
 only be given in the words of President Adams, scraps of which only have 
 we room to insert. He divided it into five parts : " 1. He began with an 
 exordium, mainly personal. 2. A dissertation on the rights of man in a 
 state of nature. He asserted that every man, merely natural, was an inde 
 pendent sovereign, subject to no law, but the law written on his heart, and 
 revealed to him by his Maker, in the constitution of his nature, and the in 
 spiration of his understanding and his conscience. His right to his life, his 
 liberty, no created being could rightfully contest. Nor was his right to his 
 property less incontestible. The club that he had snapped from a tree, for 
 a staff, or for defense, was his own. His bow and arrow were his own ; if 
 with a pebble he had killed a partridge or a squirrel, it was his own. No 
 creature, man or beast, had a right to take it from him. If he had taken 
 an eel, or a smelt, or a sculpion, it was his property. In short, he sported 
 upon this topic with so much wit and humor, and, at the same time, with 
 so much indisputable truth and reason, that he was not less entertaining 
 than instructive. He asserted that these rights were inherent and inalien 
 able. That they never could be surrendered or alienated, but by idiots or 
 madmen, and all such acts were void, and not obligatory by the laws of God 
 and man. Nor were the poor negroes forgotten. Not a Quaker in Philadel 
 phia, or Mr. Jefferson of Virginia, ever asserted the rights of negroes in 
 stronger terms. Young as I was, and ignorant as I was, I shuddered at the 
 doctrine he taught ; and I have all my life shuddered, and still shudder at 
 the consequences that may be drawn from such premises. Shall we say 
 that the rights of masters and servants clash, and can be decided only by 
 force ? I adore the idea of gradual abolitions ! but who shall decide how 
 fast or how slowly these abolitions shall be made ? 
 
 3. From individual independence he proceeded to association. If it was 
 inconsistent with the dignity of human nature, to say that men were gre 
 garious animals, like wild geese, it would surely offend no delicacy to say, 
 they were social animals by nature ; that there were natural sympathies, 
 and, above all, the sweet attraction of the sexes, which must soon draw 
 them together in little groups, and by degrees, in larger congregations, for 
 mutual assistance and defense. And this must have happened before any 
 formal covenant, by express words or signs, was concluded. When general 
 councils and deliberations were commenced, the objects could be no other than 
 the mutual defense and security of every individual for his life, his liberty, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 193 
 
 And his property. To suppose them surprised by fraud, or compelled by 
 force into any other compact, could confer no obligation of obedience. 
 Every man had a right to trample it under foot whenever he pleased. In 
 short, he asserted their rights to be derived only from nature, and the 
 author of nature ; that they were inherent, inalienable, and indefeasible by 
 any laws, facts, contracts, covenants, or stipulations, which man could 
 devise. 
 
 4. These principles and rights were brought into the English constitu 
 tion as fundamental laws. And under this head he went back to the old 
 Saxon laws, and to Magna Charta, and the fifty confirmations of it in parlia 
 ment. He asserted that the security of these rights to life, liberty, and 
 property, had been the object of all those struggles against arbitrary power, 
 temporal and spiritual, civil and political, military and ecclesiastical, in every 
 age. He asserted that our ancestors, as British subjects, and we their 
 descendants, as British subjects, were entitled to all those rights, by the 
 British constitution, as well as by the laws of nature, and our provincial 
 charter. 
 
 5. He then examined the Acts of Trade, one by one, and demonstrated, 
 that if they were considered as revenue laws, they destroyed all our security 
 of property, liberty, and life, every right of nature, and the English con 
 stitution, and the charter of the English province. 
 
 He then proceeded to enlarge upon the odious Navigation Act, as the 
 first in order among those acts, which were now to be enforced by the Writs 
 of Assistance. The main provisions of this act prohibited importations to 
 these colonies, excepting in British-built ships, manned by British sailors, 
 and no goods of foreign production could be brought, even in English ship 
 ping, excepting from the countries that produced them. The Navigation 
 Act, however, was wholly prohibitory, it abounded with penalties and for 
 feitures, but it imposed no taxes. The distinction, therefore, was vastly 
 great between this and the Acts of Trade. Though no revenue was to be 
 derived from this act, still it was intended to be enforced by these writs, 
 and houses were to be broken open and ransacked under their authority to 
 enforce it. He discussed most amply all the effects which the Acts of 
 Navigation produced upon the colonies. 
 
 From the Navigation Act he passed to the Acts of Trade, and these, he 
 contended, imposed taxes, enormous, burdensome, intolerable taxes ; and 
 on this topic he gave full scope to his talent, for powerful declamation, and 
 invective against the tyranny of taxation without representation. From the 
 energy with which Otis urged this position, that taxation without represen 
 tation is tyranny, it came to be a common maxim in the mouth of every one, 
 And with him it formed the basis of all his speeches and political writings ; he 
 builds all his opposition to arbitrary measures from this foundation, and 
 perpetually recurs to it through his whole career, as the great constitutional 
 theme cf liberty, and as the fundamental principle of all opposition to 
 arbitrary power. 
 
 He showed by many sound and striking observations, how unjust, op 
 pressive, and impracticable, were these Acts of Trade ; that they never had 
 been, and never could be executed; and asserted, what must then havo 
 boeu considered rather extravagant, though it was doubtless true, That if 
 
194: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the king of Great Britain, in person, were encamped on Boston Common, at 
 the head of twenty thousand men, with all his navy on our coast, he would 
 not be able to execute these laws. They would be resisted or eluded. lie 
 further advanced principles, while commenting on the Sugar Act, that must 
 have been heard by his audience with very strong, but very different emo 
 tions, when he asserted this act Ho be a revenue law, a taxation law, made 
 by a foreign legislature, without our consent, and by a legislature who had 
 no feeling for us, and whose interest prompted them to tax us to the quick. 
 
 The last ground taken by him in commenting on these later Acts of 
 Trade, was their incompatibility with the charter of the colony. In advert 
 ing to the history of the charters and the -colony, he fell naturally on the 
 merit of its founders, in undertaking so perilous, arduous, and almost des 
 perate an enterprise; in disforesting bare creation; in conciliating and 
 necessarily contending with Indian natives ; in purchasing, rather than con 
 quering a quarter of the globe, at their own expense, by the sweat of their 
 own brows, at the hazard and sacrifice of their own lives ; without the 
 smallest aid, assistance, or comfort, from the government of England, or 
 from England itself as a nation : on the contrary, meeting with constant 
 jealousy, envy, intrigue against their charter, their religion, and all their 
 privileges. He reproached the nation, parliament and king with injustice, 
 il liberality, ingratitude, and oppression, in their conduct toward this country, 
 in a style of oratory I never heard equaled in this or any other country." 
 
 After the close of his argument, the court decided that it could see no 
 foundation for the writ; but as the practice in England was unknown, they 
 would adjourn the question until the next term. It was never again there 
 agitated, but it was generally understood that the court secretly granted tho 
 writs. It was of no avail, for the custom-house officers never dared to ex 
 ecute them. No cause in the annals of colonial jurisprudence had ever 
 given rise to such powerful argument. When the profound learning of the 
 advocate, the powers of wit, fancy, and pathos, with which he could co 
 piously illustrate that learning and the ardent character of his eloquence are 
 considered ; when we reflect upon the personal sacrifices he made to appear 
 on the occasion, the deep foresight he had of the oppression and tyranny 
 that would have followed the success of this hateful application when all 
 these circumstances are recalled, the power and magnificence of this oration 
 may be imagined. With a knowledge of the topics that were involved, and 
 the fearless energy with which they were developed and elucidated, the 
 time when, and the circumstances under which they occurred, we need not 
 be surprised at the declaration of President Adams: "I do say, in the 
 most solemn manner, that Mr. Otis oration against writs of assistance 
 breathed into this nation tho breath of life." 
 
 Beside the great public anxiety in regard to the results of this trial, sonio 
 incidents of a personal nature, of an interesting character were attendant 
 upon it. Otis was the pupil of Gridley, the attorney for the officers of 
 customs. He felt for his character a high respect, and sincere gratitude for 
 his instructions ; and he never lost sight of these feelings on this occasion. 
 " It was," says President Adams, " a moral spectacle, more affecting to mo 
 than any I ever witnessed on the stage, to observe a pupil treating his master 
 with all the deference, respect, esteem, and affection of a sou to a father, and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 195 
 
 that without the least affectation ; while he baffled and confounded all his 
 authorities, confuted all his arguments, and reduced him to silence ! " 
 
 The crown, by its agents, accumulated construction upon construction, 
 and inference upon inference, as the giants heaped Pelion upon Ossa. He 
 dashed this whole building to pieces, and scattered the pulverized atoms to 
 tho four winds ; and no judge, lawyer, or crown-officer dared to say, why do 
 ye so ? Such was the storm of indignation he raised, that even Hutchinson, 
 who had been appointed on purpose to sanction this writ, dared not utter a 
 word in its favor ; and Mr. Gridley, himself, seemed to exult inwardly at 
 the glory and triumph of his pupil. 
 
 From this moment a new epoch in political affairs arose. Political parties 
 became more distinctly founded. The right of the British parliament to im 
 pose taxes, was openly denied. " Taxation without representation is 
 tyranny," at once became the maxim and watchword of all the friends of 
 liberty. Otis, who had never before interfered in public affairs, forthwith 
 became the idol of the patriots, and the terror and vengeance of their royal 
 enemies. He was almost unanimously chosen to the legislature in the en 
 suing May, and continued a member of that body for- several years. " On 
 the week of the election of Otis," says President Adams, " I happened to be 
 at Worcester attending court. When the news arrived from Boston, you 
 can have no idea of the consternation among the government people. Chief 
 Justice Buggies said, on that day, Out of this election will arise a d d 
 faction, which will shake this province to its foundation. " 
 
 In 1762, a bill was brought before the legislature, to exclude the Judges, 
 of the Superior Court from being members thereof; it was lost by a majority 
 of seven votes. The object of this was to prevent Hutchinson from uniting 
 in his person an office as Legislator, in addition to his employments of 
 Lieutenant Governor and Chief Justice. Otis demonstrated with unan 
 swerable arguments the incompatibility of these offices, and the dangerous 
 abuses which must follow from such a violation of the whole spirit of a free 
 government. It is a striking proof (says Mr. Tudor, in his Life of Otis,, from 
 which this article is derived) of the progress that has been since made in 
 the science of constitutions, that a principle could not then be sustained in a 
 legislative body, which is now felt by every citizen, to form the basis of all 
 political liberty and civil security, viz : the separation of the legislative, 
 judicial, and executive functions. 
 
 At the session of September, 1762, Bernard, the governor of the province, 
 sent in a message, informing them that he had increased the armament of 
 the Massachusetts sloop, which had been sent out to protect, the fisheries 
 from the ravages of the French cruisers. This message gave rise to a re 
 markable discussion, and this trifling expenditure, without the knowledge 
 of the legislature, may be considered as one of the preparatory causes of 
 the revolution. Through the dissemination of the great principles laid 
 down by Otis in his speech on the writs, viz : that " taxation without repre 
 sentation was tyranny," and that expenditures of public money, without ap 
 propriations by the representatives of the people, were arbitrary, unconstitu 
 tional, and, therefore, tyrannical, the people had become watchfully jealous 
 of every encroachment on their rights. The public began to look at prin 
 ciples, and to resist every insidious precedent inflexiblv. 
 13 
 
196 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 This state of feeling in America is thus finely described by Burke. " I* 
 other countries the people, more simple, of a less mercurial cast, judge of an 
 ill principle in government only by an actual grievance ; here they antici 
 pate the evil, and judge of the pressure of the grievance by the badness of 
 the principle. They augur misgovernment at a distance, and snuff the 
 approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze." 
 
 Such was the superiority of Otis over every other member of the house in 
 talents, information, and energy, that ho at once took the lead ; and in bit 
 written reply, as chairman to the committee on this message, gave utterance 
 to the following bold sentiments : 
 
 "It is in effect taking from the house their most darling privilege, the 
 right of originating taxes. It is, in short, annihilating one branch of the 
 legislature. And when once the representatives of the people give up thii 
 privilege, the government will very soon become arbitrary. No necessity 
 can be sufficient tp justify a house of representatives in giving up such a 
 privilege ; for it would be of little consequence to the people, whether thej 
 were subject to George, or Louis, the king of Great Britain, or the French 
 king, if both were arbitrary, as both would be, if both could levy taxes with 
 out parliament." "Treason! Treason!" here broke in a member, just in 
 the same way as Patrick Henry, three years later, was interrupted. The 
 answer closed with an appeal to the executive, that as he regarded the peace 
 and welfare of the province, he should take no such unauthorized measure* 
 in the future. 
 
 This reply was passed and sent into the governor. His excellency re 
 turned it forthwith with a letter, complaining of the disrespectful manner in 
 which his majesty had been spoken of. The house finally acceded to hii 
 request, and expurged the so considered sacrilegious and traitorous passage. 
 Other messages passed between the parties, but without any satisfaction to 
 either. 
 
 After the adjournment Otis wrote a pamphlet- history of the whole matter, 
 justifying their course. This production was the original source from which 
 all subsequent arguments against taxation were derived. The great princi 
 ples of constitutional liberty are shown to rest at last on this basis, that taxa 
 tion and represe- .ation are inseparable. The specious pretenses of public 
 welfare, the maak to hide the encroachments of arbitrary power are all torn 
 away; and the vigilance of a clear-sighted statesman is exhibited in the utmost 
 plainness and energy. "How many volumes," says President Adams, "are 
 -concentrated in this little pamphlet, the production of a few hurried hours. 
 Look over the Declarations of Rights and Wrongs, issued by congress in 
 1774. Look into the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Look into the 
 writings of Dr. Price and Dr. Priestly. Look into all the French constitu 
 tions of government ; and, to cap the climax, look into Mr. Thomas Paine s 
 Common Sense, Crisis, and Rights of Man ; what can you find that is not to 
 be found in solid substance in this vindication of the House of Repre 
 sentatives." 
 
 The reader will, perhaps, be interested by a quotation or two from thii 
 vindication 0f Otis. The first line we take, is one which, afterward being 
 adopted into oar Declaration of Independence, is recognized as the most 
 glorious idea in that great instrument : 
 
OF AMERICANS. 197 
 
 Ood made all men naturally equal. 
 
 The ideas of earthly superiority, pre-eminence, and grandeur, are educated, 
 at least, acquired, not innate. 
 
 Kings were and plantation governors should be made for the good of 
 the people, and not the people for them. 
 
 No government has a right to make hobby-horses, asses, and slaves of the 
 object ; nature having made sufficient of the two former for all the lawful 
 purposes of man, from the harmless peasant in the field, to the most refined 
 politician in the cabinet ; but none of the last [slaves], which infallibly 
 proves they are unnecessary. 
 
 Though most governments are, in fact, arbitrary, and, consequently, the 
 curse and scandal of human nature, yet none are by right arbitrary. 
 
 The more elevated the person who errs, the stronger, sometimes, the 
 obligation to refute him ; for the errors of great men are often of very 
 dangerous consequences to themselves, as well as to the little ones below 
 them. 
 
 The world ever has been, and ever will be, pretty equally divided be 
 tween those two parties, vulgarly called the winners and losers; or, to speak 
 more precisely, between those who are discontented that they have no 
 power, and those who think they can never have enough." 
 
 In the year 1764, the alarm throughout the colonies began to be excessive, 
 as it was evident that the mother country was taking measures to strictly 
 enforce the Navigation Acts, and the Acts of Trade. Town meetings were 
 held in Boston, Salem, and all the other principal ports in which instructions 
 were given to their representatives to resist all attempts to tax them with 
 out their consent. These memorials were referred to a committee of the 
 legislature, of which Otis was chairman, and upon them he made a very 
 able report upon the injustice of taxation, " without the voice of one Ameri 
 can in parliament ? " " If," said he, " we are not represented, we are slaves: 
 nay, the British colonists will be in a worse condition than those of any 
 other province ; for, besides maintaining internal provincial governments 
 among themselves, they must pay toward the support of the national, civil, 
 and military government in Great Britain. Now it is conceived that no 
 people on earth are doubly taxed for the support of governmept." 
 
 Shortly after this, Otis published a pamphlet entitled, "The Rights of 
 the British Colonies asserted and proved," which attracted much attention. 
 He also wrote, in 1765, a scathing answer to the servile " Halifax libel," a 
 published letter from "a gentleman in Halifax to his friend in Rhode 
 Island," in which the plan of representation was ridiculed, and British taxa 
 tion defended ; accompanied by miserable sneers and insolence against the 
 colonists, as an inferior race of men, who ought to be submissive to the 
 English parliament. In the same year, Otis produced another work, in a 
 letter form : " Considerations on behalf of the Colonists." It is spirited and 
 able, and is the last written by him : its chief topics are taxation and repre 
 sentation, and it was given as an answer to an English publication, by a Mr. 
 J s. " Remember, Britons," said he, therein, " when you shall be taxed 
 without your consent, and tried without a jury, and have an army quartered 
 in private families, you will have little to hope or to fear !" 
 
 The Stamp Act had been passed, and the crisis so imminent, that those 
 
198 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 questions were of vital importance. The man-ner in which, that odious act 
 was received by the colonists, is too well known for relation here. In 
 October of this year the famous Stamp Act Congress, composed of delegates 
 from nine colonies, met in New York ; and of this body no member stood 
 higher for energy and talents than Mr. Otis. Their remonstrances led to tho 
 lepeal of the hated act. 
 
 The next year, 1766, and several successive years, Boston was represented 
 fn the legislature by Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Thomas Gushing, and 
 James Otis ; and these four gentlemen exercised a wide influence in a the 
 events which led to American Independence. Otis and Gushing only lived 
 to see the dawn of their country s prosperity ; Adams and Hancock wero 
 destined to outlive the period of trial. John Hancock was the most 
 wealthy merchant in the province, and one of the most elegant and accom 
 plished men of his time. In private life, he was renowned for his benevo 
 lence and hospitality, and in public life, for his noble spirit. He was con 
 sulted when it was contemplated to burn Boston, to expel the enemy. He 
 answered, that although the great part of his fortune consisted in buildings 
 within it, yet if its destruction would be useful to his country, it should be 
 set on fire forthwith. He was not remarkable as an orator ; but as a presi 
 dent of a public body, he was unsurpassed. In 1776, he had the honor to 
 be president of that immortal assembly which signed the Declaration of In 
 dependence. His bold signature to that instrument is familiar to every one. 
 As he laid down his pen, he exclaimed : " There, the British ministry can 
 read that name without spectacles ; let them double their reward," referring 
 to a reward that had been offered for him and Samuel Adams : they being 
 considered arch-rebels. He died in 1793, at the age of fifty-six years, and 
 would have died poor, so entirely had he neglected his private affairs in his 
 country s good, but for his originally immense fortune. 
 
 Samuel Adams was one of the most remarkable men of his day. From 
 his earliest youth his attention was drawn to political affairs. In 1743, on 
 taking the degree of Master of Arts at Harvard, he proposed the question, 
 "Whether it be lawful to resist the supreme magistrate, if the common 
 wealth cannot be otherwise preserved ? " and took the affirmative. In the 
 legislature he was upon every committee, had a hand in writing or revising 
 every report, a share in the management of every political meeting, and a 
 voice in all the measures against the tyrannical plans of the administrations. 
 The people found him one of their most steadfast friends, the government, 
 one of its most inveterate opponents. When his character was known in 
 England, and it was also understood he was poor, the partisans of the 
 ministry wrote and inquired of Hutchinson, in a spirit of vexation, why he 
 did not silence him by a good fat berth. That official replied : " Such is 
 the obstinacy and inflexible disposition of the man, that he never can be 
 conciliated by any office or gift whatsoever," information which they could 
 scarcely credit so different was it from their experience in such matters. 
 Adams was clerk of the Massachusetts Assembly for ten years. Step by 
 step, and inch by inch, he fought the enemies of popular liberty, and was 
 the most active of the patriots of Boston in inciting the people to throw 
 overboard the tea, in 1773. When General Gage, in 1774, sent to dissolve 
 tho colonial assembly, ho found the door locked : the key was in Samud 
 
OF AMERICANS. 199 
 
 Adams pocket. After he had received warning at Lexington, the night of 
 the 18th of April, 1775, of the intended British expedition, as he proceeded 
 to make his escape though the fields, he exclaimed, when the day dawned : 
 " This is a fine day ! " " Very pleasant, indeed," answered one of his com 
 panions, supposing he alluded to the beauty of the morning. "I mean," 
 he replied, "it is a glorious day for America!" .A few days before tho 
 battle of Bunker Hill, Gage offered a pardon to all rebels excepting Samuel 
 Adams and John Hancock, "whose offenses are of too flagitious a nature 
 to admit of any other consideration than of condign punishment." This 
 virulent proscription, intended to be their ruin, widely extended their fame. 
 
 As a member of the Continental Congress, he was an earnest advocate of 
 the revolution, which declared the colonies free and independent States ; 
 and when some members faltered through fear of failure, the stern Puritan 
 exclaimed : "I should advise persisting in our struggle for liberty, though 
 it were revealed from heaven that nine hundred and ninety-nine were to 
 perish, and only one out of a thousand survive and retain his liberty ! One 
 such free man must possess more virtue, and enjoy more happiness than a 
 thousand slaves ; and let him propagate his like, and transmit to them what 
 he hath so nobly preserved." 
 
 The very faults of his character rendered his services more useful, by con 
 fining his exertions to a single point, and preventing their b eing weakened 
 by indulgence arid liberality toward different opinions. There was a tinge 
 of bigotry and narrowness both in his politics and religion. He was a strict 
 Calvanist, and full of the feelings of the ancient Puritans. He was simple 
 and frugal in his habits, which led him to despise all royal luxury and pa 
 rade. He had all the animosities and all the firmness that could qualify a 
 man to be the asserter of the rights of the people. So inflexible was he in 
 his principles, that sooner than pay an illegal tax of a sixpence, he would 
 have been condemned as a traitor, and mounted the scaffold. He succeeded 
 Hancock as governor, and died in 1803, at the age of eighty-two years. 
 Notwithstanding his many years of eminent service, he must have been 
 buried at the public expense, if the afflicting death of an only son had not 
 remedied this honorable poverty. 
 
 Such were the men associated with Otis in these years of struggle, pre 
 ceding the war, wifch the officials of the crown. The most important of the 
 state papers of this period were drawn up by Otis and revised by Adams. 
 
 Otis, whose great learning, keen preception, bold and powerful reasoning, 
 made him the primary source of almost every measure, generally gave tho 
 first draught. Adams, who saw to everything, and blended great caution 
 with excessive watchfulness and exertion, revised, corrected, and polished, 
 where it might be requisite, though the aim at fine writing was too paltry a 
 matter, compared with the magnitude of the cause in which they were en 
 gaged, to excite a moment s solicitude. 
 
 In the summer of 1769, Otis published some very severe strictures upon 
 the conduct of the Commissioners of Customs. Happening in alone on 
 evening into a coffee-house where Robinson, one of those commissioners, 
 and a number of British officers were sitting, an altercation ensued, when the 
 lights were blown out, and the party, armed with bludgeons, pounced upon 
 him. He escaped death, but to meet a worse fate. His brain was injured 
 
200 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and his reason dethroned. A verdict of ten thousand dollars was awarded 
 as damages in a civil suit against Eobinson. Otis, in a lucid interval, very 
 magnanimously forgave the base ruffian, and refused to receive a dollar of 
 the damages awarded him. For many years, all through the scenes of the 
 revolution, the patriot lived on, with his great intellect in ruins, compara- 
 tively useless to the world, and a deep grief to his friends. When at timeg 
 the cloud was lifted from his reason, he talked calmly of death, and ex 
 pressed a desire to die by a stroke of lightning. His wish was gratified. 
 On the 23d of May, 3783, he stood leaning on his cane at the door of a 
 friend s house in Andover, watching the sublime spectacle of an approaching 
 thunder-cloud, when suddenly a bolt leaped from it, like a swift messenger 
 from God to his spirit, and killed him instantly. Thus perished one of the 
 master-spirits of his time, of whom few memorials remain ; but enough to 
 show that the future historians of the United States, in considering the 
 foundations of American Independence, must inscribe a chief corner-stone 
 with the name of JAMES OTIS. 
 
 PATRICK HENRY. 
 
 PATRICK HENRY, the second son of John and Sarah Henry, and one of 
 nine children, was born on the 29th of May, 1736, at the family seat, called 
 Studley, in Hanover county, Virginia. At the age of ten years he was taken 
 from the school where he learned to read and write, and taught Latin by 
 his father, who had opened a grammar-school in his own house. At the 
 same time he acquired some proficiency in mathematics. Passionately ad 
 dicted to the sports of the field, he could not brook the toil and confinement 
 of study. And the time which should thus have been employed, was often 
 passed in the forest with his gun, or over the brook with his angling-rod. 
 "His companions frequently observed him lying along, under the shade of 
 some tree that overhung the sequestered stream, watching for hours, at tho 
 same spot, the motionless cork of his fishing-line, without one encouraging 
 symptom of success, and without any apparent source of enjoyment, unless 
 he could find it in the ease of his position, or in the illusion of hope ; or, 
 which is most probable, in the stillness of the scene, or the silent workings 
 of his own imagination." This love of solitude in his youth, was a marked 
 trait in his character. 
 
 The wants of a large family compeled his father to find employment for 
 his sons. At the age of fifteen, Patrick was put behind the counter of a 
 country merchant, and the year following, entered into business with his 
 elder brother, William, with whom was to devolve its chief management ; 
 but such were his idle habits, that he left the burden of the concern to 
 Patrick, who managed wretchedly. The drudgery of business became in 
 tolerable to him, and then too, " he could not find it in his heart," to dis 
 appoint any one who came for credit ; and he was very easily satisfied with 
 apologies for non-payment. He sought relief from his cares by having re 
 course to the violin, flute, and reading. An opportunity was presented of 
 pursuing his favorite study of the human character, and the character of 
 every customer underwent his scrutiny. 
 
 One year put an end to the mercantile concern, and the two or three 
 
OF AMERICAN& 201 
 
 following Patrick was engaged in settling up its affairs. At eighteen years 
 of age he married Miss Shelton, the daughter of a neighboring farmer of 
 respectability, and commenced cultivating a small farm ; but his aversion to 
 ystematic labor, and want of skill, compelled him to abandon it at the end 
 of two years. Selling off all his little possessions at a sacrifice, he again em 
 barked in the hazardous business of merchandise. His old business habits 
 till continued, and not unfrequently he shut up his store to indulge in th 
 favorite sports of his youth. His reading was of a more serious character ; 
 history, ancient and modern, he became a proficient in. Livy, however, was 
 his favorite ; and having procured a copy, he read it through at least once a 
 year in the early part of his life. In a few years his second mercantile ex 
 periment left him a bankrupt, and without any friends enabled to assist him 
 further. All other means failing, he determined to try the law. His un 
 fortunate habits, unsuitable to so laborious a profession, and his pecuniary 
 situation unfitting him for an extensive course of reading, led every one to 
 uppose that he would not succeed. With only six weeks study, he 
 obtained a license to practice, he being then twenty-four years of age. He 
 was then not only unable to draw a declaration or a plea, but incapable, it 
 is said, of the most common and simple business of his profession. It was 
 not until his twenty-seventh year, that an opportunity occurred for a trial of 
 his strength at the bar. In the meantime the wants and distresses of his 
 family were extreme. They lived mostly with his father-in-law, Mr. Shelton, 
 who then kept a tavern at Hanover court-house. Whenever Mr. Shelton 
 was from home, Henry took his place in the tavern. The occasion on which 
 his genius first broke forth, was the controversy between the clergy and the 
 legislature and people of the State, relating to the stipend claimed by the 
 former. The cause was popularly known as the parsons cause. A decision 
 of the court on a demurrer in favor of the claims of the clergy, had left noth 
 ing undetermined but the amount of damages in the cause which was pend 
 ing. Soon after the opening of the court, the cause was called. The scene 
 which ensued is thus vividly described by Wirt : 
 
 " The array before Mr. Henry s eyes was now most fearful. On the bench 
 sat more than twenty clergymen, the most learned men in the colony, and 
 the most capable, as well as the severest critics, before whom it was possible 
 for him to have made his debut. The court-house was crowded with an over 
 whelming multitude, and surrounded with an immense and anxious throng, 
 who, not finding room to enter, were endeavoring to listen without, in the 
 deepest attention. 
 
 But there was something still more awfully disconcerting than all this ; 
 for in the chair of the presiding magistrate sat no other person than his owu 
 father. Mr. Lyons opened the cause very briefly : in the way of argument 
 he did nothing more than explain to the jury, that the decision upon the 
 demurrer had put the act of 1758 entirely out of the way, and left the law 
 of 1748 as the only standard of their damages ; he then concluded with a 
 highly- wrought eulogium on the benevolence of the clergy. 
 
 And now came on the first trial of Patrick Henry s strength. No one had 
 ever heard him speak, and curiosity was on tiptoe. He rose very awkwardly, 
 and faltered much in his exordium. The people hung their heads at so 
 unpromising a commencement ; the clergy were observed to exchange sir 
 
202 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 looks with each other ; and his father is described as having almost sunk 
 with confusion from his sent. 
 
 But these feelings were of short duration, and soon gave place to others 
 of a very different character. For now were those wonderful faculties which 
 he possessed, for the first time, developed ; and now was first witnessed that 
 mysterious and almost supernatural transformation of appearance, which the 
 fire of his own eloquence never failed to work in him. For as his mind 
 rolled along, and began to glow from its own action, all the exuvice of the 
 clown seemed to shed themselves spontaneously. 
 
 His attitude, by degrees, became erect and lofty. The spirit of his geniua 
 awakened all his features. His countenance shone with a nobleness and gran 
 deur which it had never before exhibited. There was a lightning in his eyes 
 which seemed to rivet the spectator. His action became graceful, bold and 
 commanding ; and in the tones of his voice, but more especially in his em 
 phasis, there was a peculiar charm, a h*agic, of which any one who ever 
 heard him will speak as soon as he is named, but of which no one can give 
 any adequate description. They can only say that it struck upon the ear 
 and upon the heart, in a manner which language cannot tell. Add to all these, 
 his wonder-working fancy, and the peculiar phraseology in which he clothed 
 its images ; for he painted to the heart with a force that almost petrified it. 
 In the language of those who heard him on this occasion, he made their 
 blood run cold, and their hair to rise on end. 
 
 It will not be difficult for any one who ever heard this most extraordinary 
 man, to believe the whole account of this transaction, which is given by his 
 surviving hearers ; and from their account, the court-house of Hanover 
 county must have exhibited on this occasion, a scene as picturesque, as has 
 been ever witnessed in real life. 
 
 They say that the people, whose countenances had fallen as he arose, had 
 heard but a very few sentences before they began to look up ; then to look 
 at each other with surprise, as if doubting the evidence of their own senses ; 
 then, attracted by some strong gesture, struck by some majestic attitude, 
 fascinated by the spell of his eye, the charm of his emphasis, and the varied 
 and commanding expression of his countenance, they could look away no 
 more. 
 
 In less than twenty minutes, they might be seen in every part of the 
 house, on every bench, in every window, stooping forward from their stands, 
 in death-like silence ; their features fixed in amazement and awe ; all their 
 senses listening and riveted upon the speaker, as if to catch the last strain of 
 some heavenly visitant. The mockery of the clergy was soon turned into 
 alarm ; their triumph into confusion and despair ; and at one burst of his 
 rapid and overwhelming invective, they fled from the bench in precipitation 
 and terror. As for the father, such was his surprise, such his amazement, 
 such his rapture, that, forgetting where he was, and the character which he 
 was filling, tears of ecstacy streamed down his chocks, without the power or 
 inclination to repress them. 
 
 The jury seem to have been so completely bewildered, that they lost sight, 
 not only of the act of 1748, but that of 1758 also ; for thoughtless even of 
 the admitted right of the plaintiff, they had scarcely left the bar, when they 
 returned with a verdict of one penny damages. A motion was made for a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 203 
 
 new trial ; but the courfc, too, had now lost the equipoise of their judgment, 
 and overruled the motion by a unanimous vote. The verdict and judgment 
 overruling the motion, were followed by redoubled acclamations, from within 
 and without the house. 
 
 The people, who had with difficulty kept their hands off their champion, 
 from the moment of closing his harange, no sooner saw the fate of the cause 
 finally sealed, than they seized him at the bar, and in spite of his own exer 
 tions, and the continued cry of order from the sheriffs and the court, they 
 bore him out of the court-house, and raising him on their shoulders, carried 
 him about the yard, in a kind of electioneering triumph. 
 
 I have tried much to procure a sketch of this celebrated speech. But 
 those of M.r. Henry s hearers who survive, seem to have been bereft of their 
 senses. They can only tell you, in general, that they were taken captive ; 
 and so delighted with their captivity, that they followed implicitly, whither 
 soever he led them : that, at his bidding, their tears flowed from pity, and 
 their cheeks flushed with indignation : that when it was over, they felt as if 
 they had just awaked from some ecstatic dream, of which they were 
 unable to recall or connect the particulars. It was such a speech as they 
 believed had never before fallen from the lips of man." 
 
 From this time Mr. Henry s star was in the ascendant, and he at once roso 
 to the head of his profession in that section. In the autumn of 176 i, having 
 removed to Koundabout, in Louisa county, he was employed to argue a case 
 before a committee on elections of the House of Burgesses. He distin 
 guished himsell by a brilliant display on the right of suffrage. Such a burst 
 of eloquence from a man of so humble an appearance, struck the committee 
 with amazement, and not a sound, but from his lips, broke the deep silence 
 of the room. 
 
 In 1765, he was elected a member of the House of Burgesses, when ho 
 introduced his celebrated resolutions on the Stamp Act. Among his papers 
 there was found, after his decease, one sealed and thus indorsed : 
 
 " Inclosed are the resolutions of the Virginia Assembly, in 1765, concern 
 ing the Stamp Act. Let my executors open this paper." On the back of 
 the paper containing the resolutions was the following indorsement : " The 
 within passed the House of Burgesses in May, 1765. They formed the first 
 opposition to the Stamp Act, and the scheme of taxing America by the 
 British parliament. All the colonies, either through fear, or the want of 
 opportunity to form an opposition, or from influence of some kind or other, 
 had remained silent. I had been for the first time elected a burgess a few 
 days before, was young, inexperienced, unacquainted with the forms of the 
 house, and the members who composed it. Finding the men of weight 
 averse to opposition, and the commencement of the tax at hand, and that no 
 person was likely to step forth, I determined to venture ; and alone, unaided 
 and unassisted, on the blank leaf of an old law-book, wrote the within. 
 Upon offering them to the house, violent debates ensued. Many threats 
 were uttered, and much abuse cast on me by the parties for submission. 
 After a long and warm contest, the resolutions passed by a very small 
 majority, perhaps one or two only. The alarm spread throughout America 
 with astonishing quickness, and the ministerial party were overwhelmed. 
 The great noint of resistance to British taxation was universally established 
 
204 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 in the colonies. This brought on the war, which finally separated the two 
 countries, and gave independence to ours. Whether this will prove a bless 
 ing or a curse, will depend upon the use our people make of the blessings 
 which a gracious God hath bestowed on us. If they are wise, they will be 
 great and happy. If they are of a contrary character, they will be miserable. 
 Righteousness alone can exalt them as a nation. Reader, whoever thou art, 
 remember this ; and in thy sphere, practice virtue thyself, and encourage it 
 in others.?. HENRY." 
 
 It was in the midst of the above-mentioned debate, that he exclaimed, in 
 tones of thunder, " Caesar had his Brutus Charles the First his Cromwell 
 and George the Third ( Treason ! cried the speaker Treason ! treason ! 
 echoed from every part of the house. Henry faltered not for a moment ; 
 taking a loftier attitude, and fixing on the speaker an eye of fire, he finished 
 his sentence with the firmest emphasis) may profit by their example. If 
 this be treason, make the most of it.* Henceforth Mr. Henry was the idol 
 of the people of Virginia, and his influence, as one of the great champions 
 of liberty, extended throughout America. In 1769, he was admitted to the 
 bar of the general court. Without that legal learning, which study alone can 
 supply, he was deficient as a mere lawyer ; but before a jury, in criminal 
 cases particularly, his genius displayed itself most brilliantly. His deep 
 knowledge of the springs of human action, his power of reading in the 
 flitting expressions of the countenance what was passing in the hearts of his 
 hearers, has rarely been possessed by any one in so great a degree. In 1767 
 or 68, Mr. Henry removed back to Hanover, and continued a member of 
 the House of Burgesses until the close of the revolution, acting upon its 
 most important committees, and infusing a spirit of bold opposition in iU 
 members to the pretensions of Britain. He was a delegate to the first 
 Colonial Congress, which assembled September 4, 1774, at Philadelphia. 
 
 On the 20th of April, 1775, (less than one month prior to the battle of 
 Lexington), the Virginia assembly of delegates met for the second time, and 
 in the old church, St. Johns, which is still standing in the town of Rich 
 mond. In the session of the year previous, that body, while remonstrating 
 with great feeling against their grievances, nevertheless avowed their deter 
 mination to support his majesty, King George III, with their lives and for 
 tunes. These sentiments still influenced many of the leading members. 
 Not so Patrick Henry. He saw no alternative but abject submission, or 
 heroic resistance. 
 
 On the morning of the 23d of March, resolutions were offered, still breath 
 ing the spirit of loyalty to the crown. These were "gall and wormwood" 
 to Mr. Henry. The house required being wrought up to a bolder tone. He 
 thereupon moved a series of resolutions, to the effect that a militia force be 
 raised, and the colony be put in a state of defense, to prevent the further 
 violation of their liberties with which they were threatened. 
 
 When these resolutions were read, a general thrill of horror ran through 
 the asrsmbly. They were considered rash and unadvised. Some of the 
 ablest of the members arose and spoke against them. They felt that with a 
 little more patience their long series of oppressions would be remedied, that 
 they were too feeble to cope with the power of Great Britain, and that ruin 
 to their country would inevitably follow an armed resistance. When Mr 
 
OF AMERICANS. 205 
 
 Henry replied, he delivered that unsurpassed speech, so familiar to us all in 
 our schoolboy days. Says Wirt : 
 
 "He arose at this time with a majesty unusual to him in an exordium 
 and with all that self-possession by which he was so invariably distinguished 
 No man, he said, thought more highly than he did of the patriotism, as 
 well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who had just addressed the 
 house. But different men often saw the same subject in different lights , 
 and, therefore, he hoped it would not be thought disrespectful to those 
 gentlemen, if, entertaining as he did, opinions of a character very opposite 
 to theirs, he should speak forth his sentiments freely, and without reserve. 
 
 1 This, he said, was no time for ceremony. The question before this 
 house was one of awful moment to the country. For his own part, he con 
 sidered it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery. And in 
 proportion to the magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of the 
 debate. It was only in this way that they could hope to arrive at truth, 
 and fulfill the great responsibility which they held to God and their country. 
 Should he keep back his opinions at such a time, through fear of giving 
 offense, he should consider himself as guilty of treason toward his country, 
 and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of heaven, which he revered 
 above all earthly kings. 
 
 Mr. President, said he, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions 
 of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth and listen to 
 the song of that siren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this, he asked, 
 the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty ? 
 Were we disposed to be of the number of those, who, having eyes, see not, 
 and having ears, hear not the things which so nearly concern their temporal 
 salvation ? For his part, whatever anguish of spirit it might cost, he was 
 willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. 
 
 He had, he said, but one lamp by which his feet were guided ; and 
 that was the lamp of experience. He knew of no way of judging of the 
 future but by the past. And judging by the past, he wished to know what 
 there had been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years, 
 to justify those hopes with which gentlemen had been pleased to solace 
 themselves and the house ? Is it that insidious smile with which our peti 
 tion has been lately received ? Trust it not, sir ; it will prove a snare to 
 your feet. Suffer not yourself to be betrayed with a kiss. 
 
 Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with 
 those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are 
 fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation ? Have we 
 shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in 
 to win back our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the 
 implements of war and subjugation the last arguments to which kings 
 resort. 
 
 I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not 
 to force us to submission ? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive 
 for it ? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call 
 for all this accumulation of navies and armies ? No, sir, she has none. 
 They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent 
 over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have 
 
206 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 been so long forging. And what have we to oppose them ? Shall we try 
 argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we 
 anything new to offer upon the subject ? Nothing. We have held the 
 subject up in every light of which it is capable : but it has been all in vain. 
 Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication ? What terms shall 
 we find which have not been already exhausted ? 
 
 Let us not, 1 beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have 
 done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming 
 on. We have petitioned we have remonstrated we have supplicated 
 we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its inter 
 position to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our 
 petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances have produced additional 
 violence and insult ; our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have 
 been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. 
 
 In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and 
 reconciliation. There is no longer any room for liope. If we wish to be free 
 if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for winch we 
 have been so long contending if we mean not basely to abandon the noble 
 struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have 
 pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest 
 shall be obtained! we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An 
 appeal to arms and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us ! 
 
 They tell us, sir, continued Mr. Henry, that we are weak unable to 
 cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger. 
 Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally 
 disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ? 
 Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction ? Shall we acquire 
 the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hug 
 ging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemy shall have bound us 
 hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those 
 means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. 
 
 1 Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such 
 a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our 
 enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles 
 alone. There is a just God, who presides over the destinies of nations, and 
 who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not 
 to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, 
 sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too 
 late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and 
 slavery ! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the 
 plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable and let it come ! I repeat it, sir, 
 let it come ! 
 
 4 It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry peace, 
 peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun ! The next gale 
 that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding 
 arms! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? 
 What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have ? Is life so 
 dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and 
 slavery ? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may 
 
OF AMERICANS. 207 
 
 take ; but as for me, cried he, with both his arms extended aloft, his brows 
 knit, every feature marked with the resolute purpose of his soul, and his 
 voice swelled to its boldest note of exclamatiou * Give me Liberty, or give 
 me Death ! * 
 
 He took his seat. No murmur of applause was heard. The effect was 
 too deep. After the trance of a moment, several members started from their 
 seats. The cry, to arms ! seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam from 
 every eye. Eichard H. Lee arose and supported Mr. Henry, with his usual 
 spirit and elegance. But his melody was lost amid the agitations of that 
 ocean, which the master-spirit of the storm had lifted up on high. That 
 supernatural voice still sounded in their ears, and shivered along their 
 arteries. They heard, in every pause, the cry of liberty or death. They 
 became impatient of speech, their souls were on fire for action. 
 
 Upon Lord Dunmore s seizing the gunpowder at Williamsburg, in the 
 night after the battle of Lexington, Henry summoned volunteers to meet 
 him ; and marching down toward the capitol, compelled the agent of Dun- 
 more to give a pecuniary compensation for it. This was the first military 
 movement in Virginia. The colonial convention of 1775, elected him the 
 colonel of the first regiment, and the commander of " all the forces raised, 
 and to be raised for the defense of the colony." Soon resigning his com 
 mand, he was elected a delegate to the convention, and not long after, in 
 1776, the first governor of the commonwealth, an office he held, by succes 
 sive re-elections, until 1779, when, without any intermission, he was no 
 longer constitutionally eligible While holding that office he was signally 
 serviceable in sustaining public spirit during the gloomiest period of the 
 revolution, providing recruits, and crushing the intrigues of the tories. 
 
 On leaving the office of governor, he served until the end of the war in 
 the legislature, when he was again elected governor, until the state of his 
 affairs caused him to resign in the autumn of 1786. Until 1794, he regularly 
 attended the courts, where his great reputation obtained for him a lucrative 
 business. " In 1788 he was a member of the convention of Virginia, which 
 so ably and eloquently discussed the constitution of the United States. He 
 employed his masterly eloquence, day after day, in opposition to the pro 
 posed constitution. His hostility to it proceeded entirely from an apprehen 
 sion that the federal government would swallow the sovereignty of the 
 States ; and that ultimately the liberty of the people would be destroyed, or 
 crushed, by an overgrown arid ponderous consolidation of political power. 
 The constitution having been adopted, the government organized, and 
 Washington elected president, his repugnance measurably abated. The 
 chapter of amendments considerably neutralized his objections : but, never 
 theless, it is believed that his acquiescence resulted more from the con 
 sideration of a citizen s duty, confidence in the chief magistrate, and a hope- 
 
 * Now and then a sentence is originated on occasions of momentous public interest, 
 which so vividly expresses a great idea, that it is at once seized upon, and becomes im 
 mortal. " Give me Liberty, or give me Death! " will never be lost. It is of the same 
 character with Opposition to Tyrants is obedience to God!" Other examples less 
 startling, but not less appropriate, are of move recent origin. "Your Strength is in you* 
 Wrongs! " "My Goods are for sale not my Principles! " 
 
208 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ful reliance on the wisdom and virtue of the people, rather than from JUIJT 
 material change in his opinions." 
 
 In 1794, Mr. Henry retired from the bar. In 1796 the post of governor 
 was once more tendered to him, and refused. In 1798 the strong and 
 animated resolutions of the Virginia Assembly, in opposition to the alied 
 and sedition laws, which laws he was in favor of, conjured up the most 
 rightful visions of civil war, disunion, blood, and anarchy ; and under the 
 impulse of these phantoms, to make what lie considered a virtuous effort for 
 his country, he presented himself in Charlotte county as a candidate for the 
 House of Delegates, at the spring election of 1799, although he had retired 
 to private life three years previously. 
 
 On this occasion he encountered the eccentric John Randolph, who had 
 presented himself as a candidate for congress, and opposed these measures 
 Mr. Henry advocated. They met at the court-house, and supported a long 
 and animated discussion. Mr. Henry was then in his sixty-seventh year ; 
 the measure of his fame was full ; the late proceedings of the Virginia 
 Assembly, in relation to the alien and sedition laws, had filled him with 
 alarm " had planted his pillow with thorns, and he had quitted his retire 
 ment to make one more, his last effort for his country." Enfeebled by age 
 and ill-health, with a linen cap on his head, he mounted the hustings, and 
 commenced with difficulty ; but as he proceeded, his eye lighted up with its 
 wonted fire, his voice assumed its wonted majesty ; gradually accumulating 
 strength and animation, his eloquence seemed like an avalanche threatening 
 to overwhelm his adversary. Many present considered it his best effort. 
 In the course of the speech, Mr. Henry said, " The alien and sedition laws 
 were only the fruits of that constitution, the adoption of which he opposed. 
 ... If we are wrong, let us all go wrong together," at the same time clasp 
 ing his hands and waving his body to the right and left. His auditory un 
 consciously waved with him. As he finished he literally descended into the 
 arms of the obstreperous throng, and was borne about in triumph, when Dr. 
 John H. Rice exclaimed, " The sun has set in all his glory ! " 
 
 As Mr. Henry left the stand, Mr. Randolph, with undaunted courage, 
 arose in his place. He was then about twenty-six years of age a mere boy 
 from college, who had, probably, never yet addressed a political assembly 
 of a youthful and unprepossessing appearance. The audience, considering 
 it presumptuous for him to speak after Mr. Henry, partially dispersed, and 
 an Irishman present, exclaimed, "Tut! tut! it won t do, it s nothing but 
 the bating of an old tin pan after hearing a fine church-organ." But if the 
 sun of the other had set in all his glory," his was about to rise with, perhaps, 
 an equal brilliancy. He commenced : " his singular person and peculiar 
 aspect ; his novel, shrill, vibratory intonations ; his solemn, slow-marching, 
 and swelling periods ; his caustic crimination of the prevailing political party ; 
 his cutting satire ; the tout ensemble of his public debut, soon calmed the 
 tumultuous crowd, and inclined all to listen to the strange orator, while he 
 replied at length to the sentiments of their old favorite. When he had con 
 cluded, loud huzzas rang through the welkin. 
 
 This was a new event to Mr. Henry. He had not been accustomed to a 
 rival, and little expected one in a beardless boy : for such was the aspect of 
 the champion who now appeared to contend for the palm which he wai 
 
OF AMERICANS. 209 
 
 wont to appropriate to himself. He returned to the stage and commenced a 
 second address, in which he soared above his usual vehemence and majesty. 
 Such is usually the fruit of emulation and rivalship. He frequently ad 
 verted to his youthful competitor with parental tenderness ; complimented hii 
 rare talents with the liberality of profusion ; and, while regretting what he 
 deprecated as the political errors of youthful zeal, actually wrought himself 
 and audience into an enthusiasm of sympathy and benevolence that issued 
 in an ocean of tearg. The gesture, intonations, and pathos of Mr. Henry, 
 operated like an epidemic on the transported assembly. The contagion 
 was universal. An hysterical phrensy pervaded the audience to such a 
 degree, that they were at the same moment literally weeping and laughing. 
 At this juncture the speaker descended from the stage. Shouts of applause 
 rent the air, and were echoed from the skies. The whole spectacle as it 
 really was, would not only mock every attempt at description, but would 
 almost challenge the imagination of any one who had not witnessed it. 
 
 Mr. Henry was elected by his usual commanding majority, and the most 
 formidable preparations were made to oppose him in the assembly. But 
 " the disease, which had been preying upon him for two years, now hastened 
 to its crisis ; and on the 6th of June, 1799, this friend of liberty and man 
 was no more. 
 
 By his first wife he had six children, and by his last, six sons and three 
 daughters. He left them a large landed property. He was temperate and 
 frugal in his habits of living, and seldom drank anything but water. Ha 
 was nearly six feet in height, spare, and raw-boned, and with a slight stoop 
 in his shoulders ; his complexion dark and sallow ; his countenance grave, 
 thoughtful, and penetrating, and strongly marked with the lines of profound 
 reflection, which with his earnest manner, and the habitual knitting and 
 contracting of his brows, gave at times an expression of severity. 
 
 In private life, Mr. Henry was as amiable as he was brilliant in his public 
 career. He was an exemplary Christian, and his illustrious life was greatly 
 ornamented by the religion which he professed. In his will he left the 
 following testimony respecting the Christian religion : " I have now dis 
 posed of all my property to my family. There is one thing more I wish I 
 could give them, and that is the Christian religion. If they have that, and 
 I had not given one shilling, they would be rich; and if they have not that, 
 and I had given them the whole world, they would be poor." 
 
 We continue this article with the statement of some facts and a few 
 anecdotes. 
 
 When fourteen years of age, Mr. Henry went with his mother in a car 
 riage to the Fork Church, in Hanover, to hear preach the celebrated Samuel 
 Davies, afterward president of Princeton College. His eloquence made a 
 deep impression on his youthful mind, and he always remarked, he was the 
 greatest orator he ever heard. When a member of the Continental Con 
 gress, he said, the first men in that body were Washington, Richard Henry 
 Lee, and Roger Sherman ; and later in life, Roger Sherman and Georgo 
 Mason, the greatest statesmen he ever knew. When governor, he had 
 printed and circulated in Richmond, at his own expense, Soame Jenyns* 
 View of Christianity, and Butler s Analogy of Natural and Revealed 
 Religion. Sherlock s sermons, he affirmed, was the work which removed 
 
210 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 all his doubts of the truth of Christianity ; a copy of which, until a short 
 time since, was in the possession of his children, filled with marginal notes. 
 He read it every Sunday evening to his family, after which they all joined 
 in sacred music, while he accompanied them on the violin. He never 
 quoted poetry. His quotations were from the Bible, and his illustrations 
 from the Bible,, ancient and modejn history. He was opposed to the adop 
 tion of the federal constitution, because he thought it gave too much power 
 to the general government ; and in conversation with a friend, he remarked 
 with emphasis ; The President of the United States will always come in 
 at the head of a party. He will be supported in all his acts by a party. 
 You do not now think much of the patronage of the president ; but the day 
 is coming when it will be tremendous, and from this power the country 
 may sooner or later fall." 
 
 In the British debt cause, of which Wirt gives a full account, Mr. Henry 
 made great preparation. He shut himself up in his office for three days, 
 during which he did not see his family ; his food was handed by a servant 
 through the office-door. The Countess of .Huntington, then-in this country, 
 was among the auditors, and remarked, after hearing the arguments of the 
 several speakers, "That if every one of them had spoken in Westminster 
 Hall, they would have been honored with a peerage." Mr. Henry had a 
 diamond ring on his finger, and while he was speaking, the countess ex 
 claimed to the judge, Iredell who had never before heard him " The 
 diamond is blazing ! " " Gracious God ! " replied he, " he is an orator, 
 indeed." In this cause he injured his voice so that it never recovered its 
 original power. 
 
 The following anecdote was related by President Madison, at the conclu 
 sion of the late war, to a party of gentlemen assembled at his residence in 
 Washington. In the revolutionary war, certificates were given by the legis 
 lature to the Virginia line on continental establishment, stating the amount 
 due to them, which was to be paid at a future time. The necessities of the 
 soldiers, in many instances, compelled them to part with the certificates to 
 speculators fora trivial sum. Madison brought a bill before the legislature 
 to put a stop to it. lie had previously asked Mr. Henry if he was willing 
 to support it. The reply was " Yes ; " but having no further communication 
 with him on the subject, Mr. Madison feared he had forgotten the circum 
 stance. After the bill was read, he turned to where Mr. Henry sat, with an 
 anxious eye, upon which the latter immediately arose and addressed the 
 house. Mr. Madison said, that upon that occasion he was particularly 
 eloquent. His voice reminded him of a trumpeter on the field of battle, 
 calling the troops to a charge. He looked alternately to the house and the 
 audience, and saw they were with the orator ; and, at the conclusion, one of 
 the chief speculators in tickets, then in the galleries, exclaimed, in an 
 audible voice : " That bill ought to pass ! " it did pass, and unanimously. 
 
 Many years ago (writes the Rev. Dr. Speece), I was at the trial, in one of 
 our District Courts, of a man charged with murder. The case was briefly 
 this : the prisoner had gone, in execution of his office as constable, to arrest 
 a slave who had been guilty of some misconduct, and bring him to justice. 
 Expecting opposition in the business, the constable took several men with 
 him, some of them armed. They found the slave on the plantation of his 
 
OF AMERICANS. 211 
 
 master, within view of the house, and. proceeded to seize and bind him. 
 His mistress, seeing the arrest, came down and remonstrated vehemently 
 against it. Finding her efforts unavailing, she went off to a barn where her 
 husband was, who was presently perceived running briskly to the house. It 
 was known he always kept a loaded rifle over his door. The constable now 
 desired his company to remain where they were, taking care to keep the 
 slave in custody, while he himself would go to the house to prevent 
 mischief. He accordingly ran toward the house. When he arrived within 
 a short distance of it, the master appeared, coming out of the door with his 
 rifle in his hand. Some witnesses said that as he came to the door he drew 
 the cock of the piece, and was seen in the act of raising it to the position of 
 firing. But upon these points, there was not an entire agreement in the 
 evidence. The constable, standing near a small building in the yard, at 
 this instant fired, and the fire had a fatal effect. No previous malice was 
 proved against him ; and his plea upon the trial was, that he had taken the 
 life of his assailant in necessary self-defense. 
 
 A great mass of testimony was delivered. This was commented upon 
 with considerable ability by the lawyer for the commonwealth, and by 
 another lawyer engaged by the friends of the deceased for the prosecution. 
 The prisoner was also defended, in elaborate speeches, by two respectable ad 
 vocates. These proceedings brought the day to a close. The general whisper 
 through a crowded house was, that the man was guilty and could not be 
 saved. 
 
 About dusk candles were brought, and Henry arose. His manner was 
 exactly that which the British Spy describes with so much felicity : plain, 
 simple, and entirely unassuming. Gentlemen of the jury/ said he, I 
 dare say we are all very. much fatigued with this tedious trial. The prisoner 
 at the bar has been well defended already ; but it is my duty to offer you 
 some further observations in behalf of this unfortunate man. I shall aim at 
 brevity. But should I take up more of your time than you expect, I hope 
 you will hear me with patience, when you consider that BLOOD is concerned." 
 
 I cannot admit the possibility that any one who never heard Henry speak 
 should be made fully to conceive the force of impression which he gave to 
 these few words, "blood is concerned" I had been on my feet through the 
 day, pushed about in the crowd, and was excessively weary. I was strongly 
 of opinion, too, notwithstanding all the previous defensive pleadings, that 
 the prisoner was guilty of murder ; and I felt anxious to know how the 
 matter would terminate. Yet when Henry had uttered these words, my 
 feelings underwent an instantaneous change ; I found everything within me 
 answering at once, yes, since blood is concerned, in the name of all that is 
 righteous, go on ; we will hear you with patience until the rising of to 
 morrow s sun. This bowing of the soul must have been universal ; for the 
 profoundest silence reigned, as if our very breath had been suspended. The 
 spell of the magician was upon us, and we stood like statues around him. 
 Under the torch of his genius, every particular of the story assumed a new 
 aspect, and his cause became continually more bright and promising. At 
 length he arrived at the fatal act itself. * You have been told, gentlemen, 
 that the prisoner was bound by every obligation to avoid the supposed 
 necessity of firing, by leaping behind a house near which he stood at that 
 14 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 moment. Had he been attacked with a club, or with stones, the argument 
 would have been unanswerable, and 1 should feel myself compelled to give 
 up the defense in despair. But surely I need not tell you, gentlemen, how 
 wide is the difference between sticks or stones, and double-triggered loaded 
 rifles cocked at your breast. The effect of this terrific image, exhibited in 
 this great orator s peerless manner, cannot be described. I dare not attempt 
 to delineate the paroxysm of emotion which it excited in every heart. The 
 result of the whole was, that the prisoner was acquitted ; with the perfect 
 approbation, I believe, of the numerous assembly who attended the trial. 
 What was it that gave such transcendent force to the eloquence of Henry ? 
 His reasoning powers were good : but they have been equaled, and more 
 than equaled, by those of many other men. His imagination was exceed 
 ingly quick, and commanded all the stores of nature as materials for illus 
 trating his subject. His voice and delivery were inexpressibly happy. But 
 his most irresistible charm was the vivid feeling of his cause with which he 
 spoke. Such feeling infallibly communicates itself to the breast of the 
 hearer. 
 

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ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 AMERICAN TEMPERANCE REFORMERS, 
 
 A HISTORICAL SKETCH. 
 
 " WHAT WILL YOU TAKE TO DRINK? " united to a significant toss of the 
 head, and an unmistakable angular glance from the eye toward well filled 
 decanters ; was a question and an action of almost universal occurrence in 
 every house in our land, within the memory of many whose heads have 
 not even yet become gray. 
 
 And then came the step up to the sideboard ; the passing of the sugar- 
 bowl and the water pitcher ; the cranch and the whirl of the toddy stick in 
 the tumbler ; the decanting of the stimulant ; the pause of anticipation as 
 the glass was held momentarily in the hand ; succeeded by the raising of 
 the same to the lips, with the usual accompaniments of crooked elbow, 
 thrown back head, open mouth all ending by the final smack of satis 
 faction, as the empty goblet was laid down to make its moist, round 
 mark on the tray. 
 
 The imbibing of alcoholic liquids was then general among the American 
 people. They were considered a necessity of life ; a certain panacea for all 
 ills ; a crowning sheaf to all blessings : good in sickness and in health ; good 
 in summer to dispel the heat, and in winter to dispel the cold ; good to 
 help on work, and more than good to help on a frolic. So good were they 
 considered that their attributed merits were fixed by pleasant names. The 
 first dram of the morning was an "eye-opener;" duly followed by the 
 " eleven o clocker," and the " four o clocker ; " while the very last was a 
 "night-cap ;" after which as one laid himself in sheets, he was supposed to 
 drink no more that day, unless, indeed, he was unexpectedly called up at 
 night, when, of course, he prudently fortified himself against taking cold. 
 Do n t imagine that these were all the drinks of the day by no means. 
 The decanter stood ready at all times on the sideboard ; if a friend had 
 called, he had been welcomed by "the social glass ; " if one had departed, 
 a pleasant journey was tendered in "a flowing bumper ? if a bargain had 
 been made, it was rounded by a liquid " clincher ; " if a wedding had come 
 off, ".a long and prosperous life " was drank to the happy pair ; if a funeral 
 had ensued, then alcoholic mixtures were a source of " consolation in afflic 
 tion." Drinking all the way from the cradle to the grave, seemed the 
 grand rule. Dinah, the black nurse, as she swaddled the new-born in 
 fant, took her dram ; and Uncle Bob, the aged gray-haired sexton, with the 
 weak and watery eyes, and bent, rheumatic body, soon as Le had thrown the 
 
 (213) 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 last spade full of earth upon the little mound over the remains of a fellow- 
 mortal, turned to the neighboring bush, on which hung his green baize jacket, 
 for a swig at the bottle ; after which he gathered up his tools, and slowly, 
 and painfully hobbled homeward, to attend to his duties to the living. 
 Everybody, even Congressmen, drank ; and, what is queer, no one CL%I fix 
 the precise date at which they left off. The deacon drank, and it is said the 
 parson, that good old man, after finishing a round of social visits, not unfre- 
 quently returned to his own dwelling, so "mellowed" by the soothing in 
 fluences of the "cordial" welcomes of his parishioners, as to really feel that 
 this was not such a very bad world after all. 
 
 Before we enter upon the subject of this article, we wish to preface it 
 with a few facts upon Alcohol. 
 
 Alcohol, as extracted from fermented liquor, was unknown to the world 
 until about the year 1000. When this process was first accomplished in 
 Arabia, no person knew what this product of distillation was ; nor was there 
 any language that had for it even a name. They however called it Alco 
 hol ; and that is now the chemical name in every country. This word had 
 previously been used in Arabia as the name of a fine powder, which the 
 ladies used to give a brilliance to their complexions. Alcohol was soon 
 ascertained to be a poison, and no one then thought of using it as a drink. 
 About the year X230, it began to be used in the south of Europe, as a medi 
 cine, and from thence, its use gradually extended, for that purpose, over 
 various parts of the civilized world. Judging from its immediate effects, 
 it was thought to increase life ; and was denominated aqua vitje, water of 
 life. Theoricus, not long after, wrote a treatise upon its wonderful curative 
 power; in which he says, "It sloweth age, it strengtheneth }-outh, it help- 
 eth digestion, it cutteth flegme, it abandoneth melancholic, it relisheth the 
 heart, it lighteneth the mind, it quickeneth the spirits, it cureth the hydrop- 
 sia, it healeth the strangurie, it pounceth the stone, it expelleth gravell, 
 it puffeth away ventositie, it keepeth and preserveth the head from whirl 
 ing, the eyes from dazzling, the tong from lisping, the mouth from snaffling, 
 the teeth from chattering, and the throat from rattling; it keepeth the 
 weasan from stiffling, the stomach from wambling, and the heart from 
 swelling ; it keepeth the hands from shivering, the sinews from shrinking, 
 the veins from crumbling, the bones from aching, and the marrow from 
 soaking." 
 
 Such were supposed to be its wonderful virtues ; and many began to 
 think they could not live without it. Ulstadius, another writer, ascribes to 
 it this most singular praise ; he says, " It will burn, being kindled." And 
 this he considers as demonstrative of its peculiar excellence. It was not 
 therefore strange, with such views of its power as a medicine, that men 
 should begin to conclude that it must also do good in health, especially 
 when they were peculiarly exposed, and under severe labor ; nor that they 
 should introduce the use of it for the purpose of preventing, as well as 
 curing diseases. This was the case, particularly in the mines in Hungary ; 
 and afterward, in 1581, it was introduced by the English as a kind of cor 
 dial for their soldiers, while engaged in war in the Netherlands, and finally 
 spread, as a common beverage, among all nations. 
 
 No nation ever adopted its use without its producing an untold amount 
 
OF AMERICANS. 215 
 
 of crime and woe, more fatal than the most malignant pestilence ; yet, unti 
 within a brief period, men were blind to the evil, and constantly, everywhere, 
 increased its use, under the idea that they were promoting their own bene 
 fit. Some of the reasons for this delusion, and the causes why the quantity 
 used was continually increasing, are given by an intelligent writer. " Such 
 is the nature of alcohol, that its first effect on the human s} T stem is a quick- 
 sning of action ; animation, excitement. This, by a fundamental law of our 
 nature is a source of pleasure. This present pleasure, men mistake for real 
 good. It also arouses for a moment the reserved and dormant energies of 
 the system, which are not needed, and were not designed for ordinary 
 healthful action, but were intended for special emergencies ; and which can 
 not be drawn out and used, on ordinary occasions, without necessarily short 
 ening human life. This awakening of dormant energy, men mistake for 
 an increase of real, permanent strength. 
 
 The system, by this poison, having been over-excited, becomes deranged ; 
 and having been over- worked, without any new strength communicated, it 
 is of course weakened, and therefore soon flags ; becomes tired, and is ex 
 hausted. Now, according to another fundamental law, there is pain, lan 
 guor, and inexpressible fineasiness spread through the system, as suffering 
 nature under the awful abuse which has been practiced upon her, cries out 
 for help. A man cannot thus chafe, irritate, and exhaust his system, and 
 not afterward feel uneasiness, any more than he can put his hand into the 
 fire and not feel pain. He violates a natural law, and must find the way of 
 transgressors to be hard. Hence arise two motives to drink again. One is, 
 to obtain the past pleasure, and the other is to remove the present pain. 
 But as the system is unstrung and partly worn out, and is also lower down 
 than it was before, the same quantity will not, the next time, raise it up so 
 high ; or cause the wearied organ? to lacve so briskly. Of course it will 
 not fully answer the purpose ; will not give so much present pleasure, or 
 produce so much effect as before. Hence the motive to increase the quan 
 tity ; and for the same reason, in future, to increase it more, and still more. 
 As every repetition increases the difficulty, and also throws new obstacles in 
 the way of its removal, the temptation to increase the quantity, grows 
 stronger and stronger. The natural life of the system constantly diminishes, 
 and of course, in order to seem to live, what there is, must be mo re and more 
 highly roused, till, in one half, one quarter, or one eighth of the proper time, 
 the whole is exhausted, and the man sinks prematurely to the grave. 
 
 There is another principle which tends also strongly to the same result. 
 The more any man partakes of "this unnatural pleasure which alcohol occa 
 sions, the less susceptible he becomes of the natural and innocent -pleasures, 
 occasioned by the use of nourishing food and drink; by the view and 
 contemplation of the works of creation and providence : by the exercise 
 of the social affections, and the discharge of the various duties of life, 
 
 From the above, it is evident that the deranged and exhausted state of 
 the system, from which the uneasiness, when not under the excitement o 
 alcohol, springs, and which causes the hankering or thirst after the poison, 
 is not a natural state ; nor is that appetite a natural appetite. 
 
 Such are some of the reasons why men who begin to drink alcohol, and 
 receive from it nothing but injury, nevertheless, not only continue to drink 
 
216 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 it, but to drink it in greater and greater quantity. Let us now consider how 
 it causes death. Alcohol is a substance which is, in its nature, unfit for the 
 purpose of nutrition. It is not in the power of the animal economy to de 
 compose it, and change it into blood, or flesh, or bones, or anything by which 
 the human body is, or can be nourished, strengthened, and supported. 
 When taken into the stomach, it is sucked up by absorbent vessels, aud 
 carried into the blood ; and with that is circulated through the whole sys 
 tem, and, to a certain extent, is then thrown off again. But it is alcohol 
 when taken, it is alcohol in the stomach, ib* is alcohol in the arteries, and 
 veins, and heart, and lungs, and brain, and among all the nerves, and tissues, 
 and fibers of the whole body, and it is alcohol when, after having pervaded 
 and passed through the whole system, it is thrown off again. Give it even 
 to a dog, and take the blood from his foot, and distil.it, and you have alco 
 hol, the same which the dog drank. Take the blood from the arm, the 
 foot, or the head, of the man who drinks it, and distil that blood, and you have 
 alcohol. You may take it from the brain, strong enough, on the application 
 of fire, in an instant to blaze. Not a bloodvessel, however minute, not a 
 thread of the smallest nerve in the whole animal machinery, escapes its influ 
 ence. It enters the organs of the nursing mother, which prepare the delicate 
 food for the sustenance and growth of her child. It is taken into the circu 
 lation, and passes through- the whole system of the child ; having through 
 its whole course, produced, not only on the mother, but also on the child, 
 the appropriate effects of the drunkard s poison. This is a reason, why, after 
 the mother has taken it, the babe, although before restless, sleeps all night 
 like a drunkard ; and a reason, also, why such children, .if they live, often 
 have an appetite for spirit, and are so much more likely than other children 
 to become drunkards. This is a reason, also, why, when the parents have 
 been in the habit of freely taking it, their children are so much smaller, 
 and less healthy than other children ; have less keenness and strength of 
 eye-sight ; firmness of nerve, or ability of body and mind to withstand the 
 attacks of disease, and the vicissitudes of climates, and seasons ; and also a 
 reason why they have less inclination and less talent for great bodily, and 
 mental achievements. By the operation of laws which no man can repeal, 
 or withstand, the iniquities of the fathers are thus naturally visited upon 
 the children*, from generation to generation. 
 
 Were the human body transparent, and the operations of its organs in 
 sustaining life, visib>e, every man might see that nature itself, teaches that 
 the drinking of alcohol cannot be continued by a man without hastening 
 his death. 
 
 The receptacle for food is the stomach and intestines. From these after 
 being changed, first into chyme, and then into chyle, it is taken up by ab 
 sorbent vessels and carried into the blood, and conveyed to the right side of 
 the heart. From that it is sent to the lungs ; and by coming into contact 
 with the air, and taking out of it what it needs, in order, with what it has, 
 to nourish the body, it is sent back again to the left side of the heart. From 
 that, it is sent, in arteries, or tubes, prepared for that purpose, to all parts of 
 the body, for the purpose of carrying the nourishment which it contains, 
 and which each part needs, to its proper place. Along on the lines of these 
 tubes or canals, through which the blood with its treasure flows, is a vast 
 
OF AMERICANS. 217 
 
 multitude of little organs, or waiters, whose office is, each one to take out 
 of the blood, as it comes along, that kind and quantity of nourishment 
 which it needs for its own support, and also for the support of that part of 
 the body which is committed to its care. And although exceedingly 
 minute ana delicate, they are endowed by their Creator, with the wonderful 
 power of doing this, and also of abstaining from, or expelling and throwing 
 back into the common mass, what is unsuitable, or what they do not want, 
 to be carried to some other place where it may be needed ; or, if it is not 
 needed anywhere, and is good for nothing, to be thrown out of the body as 
 a nuisance. 
 
 For instance, the organs placed at the end of -the fingers, when the blood 
 comes there, take out of it what they need for their support, and also what 
 is needed to make finger nails ; while they will cautiously abstain from, 
 or repel that which will only make hair, and let it go on to the head. 
 And the organs on the head carefully take out that which they need for 
 their support and also that which will made hair, or, in common language, 
 cause it to grow ; while they will cautiously abstain from that which is 
 good for nothing, except to make eye-balls, and let it go to the eyes, and 
 even help it on. And the organs ahout the eye, will take that and work it 
 up into eyes, or cause them to grow. And so throughout the whole. And 
 there is among all the millions and millions of these workers, day and 
 night, all diligent in business, the most entire and everlasting harmony. 
 And there is also the most delicate and wonderful sympathy. If one mem 
 ber suffer, all the members instinctively suffer with it ; and if one member 
 rejoice, all the members rejoice with it. 
 
 And when the blood has gotten out to the extremities, and been to all 
 parts of the system, and left its treasures along on the way, as they were 
 needed, for freely it has received and freely it gives ; then there is another 
 set of tubes, or channels, prepared to take the blood, and with it what was 
 not needed, or was good for nothing, or had been used till it was worn out, 
 back to the right side of the heart. From this it is sent again with its load 
 to the lungs, for the purpose, by expiration, of throwing off what is not 
 needed, and what, if retained, would only be a burden and do mischief; 
 and also, by inspiration, of taking in a new store, and setting out again on 
 its journey around the system. And to give it good speed, the heart, like 
 a steam engine, worked, not by fires which men can kindle, but by the 
 breath of the Almighty, keeps constantly moving, day and night, summer 
 and winter, through storms and sunshine, sickness and health, as long as 
 life doth last. 
 
 All the organs of the human body have as much work to do, as is consis 
 tent with permanently healthful action, and with the longest continuance of 
 human life, when men take nothing but suitable food and drink. And if, 
 in addition to this, you take alcohol, and thus throw upon them the addi 
 tional labor of rejecting and throwing off the poison, and at the same time, 
 as by the taking of it you certainly will, weaken and exhaust their energies, 
 you necessarily shorten their duration, and commit suicide as really as if 
 you did it with arsenic, a pistol, or a halter. It also greatly increases the 
 violence of diseases which arise from other causes, and often produces death, 
 :n cases in which, had not alcohol been used, a cure might have been easily 
 
218 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and speedily effected. Nor is this all. There is another set of organs, the 
 nerves, whose office is to furnish sensibility to the human system. For 
 this purpose they are spread over the surface of the whole body, and in 
 such vast numbers and variety, that you cannot stick into the skin, the point 
 even of the finest needle, and not* strike some of them, and thus occasion 
 pain. They seem to form the link between the body and the mind, and to 
 be the medium through which each reciprocally and instantly acts upon 
 the other. Of course whatever affects them, affects not only the body but 
 also the soul, and the influence which one has upon the other. 
 
 Their seat is the brain. From this they derive excitement, and power to 
 communicate it to all parts of the system. And in order to furnish this ex 
 citement, the brain itself must be excited. And what it needs for this pur 
 pose, is that, and that only, which is furnished by arterial blood, when men 
 take nothing but suitable food, and drink, exercise, rest, and sleep. For 
 this excitement it eagerly waits, and this it joyfully receives ; and cheer 
 fully, with the rapidity almost of lightning, communicates to every part, 
 spreading a glow of animation, and making even existence a source of con 
 stant and exquisite delight. But as it stands waiting to receive, and in 
 stantly and joyfully to communicate, the bread and the milk of Heaven, 
 you throw in alcohol, and thus instead of bread, give it serpents ; instead of 
 milk, scorpions ; and they go hissing and darting their serpent, scorpion-like 
 influence through the whole man, body and soul ; turning husbands into 
 demons, and fathers into fiends. 
 
 Finally alcohol so affects the understanding that moral considerations are 
 less clearly perceived ; and it so affects the heart, that moral obligation is 
 less powerfully felt. It causes the conscience to lie more dormant, and the 
 imagination to be more extensively and deeply polluted, and polluting. It 
 corrupts the very source and springs of moral action, and brings a man pe 
 culiarly, in all respects, under the power of the devil. Mental iniquity, 
 from which the mind, when not poisoned, instinctively recoils, becomes, 
 when it is, the element of its delicious revel ; and crimes, from the 
 thought of which it before started back with abhorrence, it now commits 
 with greediness." 
 
 The business of distillation first commenced in our country at Boston, 
 about the year 1700, when West India molasses was converted into New- 
 England rum. In 1794, distilleries, chiefly for grain, had become numerous in 
 the United States, especially in Western Pennsylvania, a rich grain-growing 
 region. In 1815, the number of distilleries had increased to forty thousand, 
 consuming, in successive years, more than ten million bushels of bread-stuffs, 
 and pouring over the land more than thirty millions of gallons of ardent 
 spirits distilled from grain, and more than ten million gallons distilled from 
 molasses. 
 
 With the mass of the population, distilleries were a long time considered 
 a blessing to the country. They furnished, it was said, a ready market foi 
 the surplus grain ; they gave a new value to the orchard, whose superabun 
 dant fruit could at once be converted into brandy ; they brought ready 
 employ to the carpenter, the cooper, the carrier, and furnished the nation 
 with an excellent article, which it was importing from Holland and the 
 West Indies at great cost. Pious men, deacons of churches, owned and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 219 
 
 labored in them, without loss of character. Many a neighborhood was 
 filled with joy that an immense distillery was to be built, and a spring 
 given to business which would bring riches to every family." 
 
 Ardent spirits, for other than medicinal purposes, were not used in the 
 early settlement of our country. This fatal error that they were useful for 
 men in health, did not prevail among the mass of our people until after the 
 American Revolution. Spirituous liquors were furnished to the arm}*" by 
 government, under the fatal delusion that they were of service in mitigating 
 the hardships to which the soldiers were subject. The consequence was, 
 that at the close of the war, they were carried into the community, and ex 
 tended through the country. From habits oLintemperance formed during 
 the war, very many of the soldiers became wandering vagabonds, so that, for 
 a generation after, if a miserable drunken beggar stopped at one s door, he 
 was often alluded to as an " old soldier." 
 
 At the close of the first l^ilf century of our national existence, viz : by 
 the year 1826, this diseased appetite had become so prevalent as to demand, 
 annually, for its gratification, more than sixty millions of gallons of spiritu 
 ous liquors. 
 
 Notwithstanding the general indifference to the mass of evils arising 
 from this source, a few clear sighted and benevolent individuals, from 
 time to time, ventured to give to the world their opinions and expe 
 riences on the subject. Beside these, there were remarkable examples of 
 literary and scientific names, of the highest authority, in favor of abstaining 
 from all stimulating drinks : among whom it is sufficient to name Sir 
 Isaac Newton, Milton, Locke, Dr. Johnson, the philanthropic Howard, 
 with the venerable John Wesley, who not only abstained himself, but 
 made it a condition of membership in his church, that all who belonged to 
 it should abstain from either using, making, trafficking, or dealing in spirit 
 uous liquors. 
 
 In 1813, years before the great Temperance Reform, an association was 
 formed in Boston, under the name of " The Massachusetts Society for the 
 Suppression of Intemperance." The object, as expressed in the constitution, 
 was, "To discountenance the too free use of ardent spirits, and its kindred 
 vices, profaneness and gaming, and to encourage and promote temperance 
 and general morality." As this society allowed the use of ardent spirits as 
 a beverage, it was of no avail as a temperance society. 
 
 It was then the general impression, that ardent spirits, if not absolutely ne 
 cessary, were at least of great use and importance as a support during labor ; 
 and that, moderately used, they were an innocent stimulus. So deceived wero 
 the community, that the trade was thought to be proper. It was licensed 
 by government, and sanctioned by the Christian churches. The crimes and 
 misery arising from alcoholic drinks, were attributed to the abuse of what was 
 considered, in itself, moderately used, beneficial to man. The great dis 
 covery at length came forth like the light of a new day, that the temperate 
 members of society, were the chief agents in promoting and perpetuating 
 intemperance. And it was perfectly evident that unless a new movement, 
 could be started, on a new plan, and one which should be equal in time and 
 place with the evil one which should strike at the root and exterminate 
 it drunkenness would always continue. At length associated effort was 
 
220 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 brought to bear upon the torrent of evil, and " THE PLEDGE," the great 
 instrument of reform, came into use. 
 
 The first Temperance Pledge of which we have any knowledge (at least 
 in modern times), was one drawn up by Micajah Pendleton, of Nelson 
 County, Virginia, in the year 1800. It was designed only for his own 
 family, and was a total abstinence pledge. Through his influence, other 
 families in Virginia, adopted the same in their households. The first Tem 
 perance Society, was organized in Moreau, Saratoga County, New York, in 
 the year 1808.* The pledge and constitution were prepared, and the move 
 ment inaugurated by Dr. Billy J. Clark, and the Rev. Lebbeus Armstrong 
 Forty-seven male members signed the pledge, and organized the society, 
 called " the Moreau and Northumberland Temperance Society." The fourth 
 article of their constitution, provided that no member should drink rum, 
 gin, whisky, wine, or any distilled spirits. A fine of twenty-five cents was 
 imposed for every violation of the pledge. The Rev. Lebbeus Armstrong 
 delivered the address at their first quarterly meeting. In 1810, this society 
 sent out one thousand circulars giving an account of the rise, progress, and 
 objects of their body ; transmitting many of them to eminent gentlemen in 
 Europe. 
 
 The first general movement in the cause, was in 1811, when Dr. Rush, of 
 Philadelphia, presented printed copies of his "Inquiry," to the members of 
 the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, in session there. A 
 committee was appointed on the subject, and the initiatory steps taken to 
 pervade the whole land with a feeling of alarm, at the prevalence of intem 
 perance. But years elapsed before the public mind was sufficiently enlight 
 ened to embrace the great idea.. 
 
 In 1825, the Rev. Dr. Justin Edwards wrote an essay entitled, "The Well 
 Conducted Farm," exhibiting the result of an experiment upon an exten 
 sive farming establishment, in Worcester County, Massachusetts, which 
 showing the great superiority of labor without alcoholic stimulants, pro 
 duced a strong impression on the public mind. The next year, the AMEK- 
 ICAN TEMPERANCE SOCIETY was formed at Boston, and on the principle of 
 "the pledge," the invention of Micajah Pendleton, twenty-six years pre 
 viously. 
 
 Among the most powerful of the early advocates of the reformation, 
 were Rev. Mr. Hewitt, Dr. Lyman Beecher, Dr. Edwards, E. C. Delavan, 
 Theodore Frelinghuysen, Dr. Channing, and numerous others, who, by ser 
 mons, tracts, public meetings, and periodicals, spread their views far and 
 wide throughout the country. 
 
 The sermons of Dr. Beecher, exerted a powerful influence in helping on 
 the cause in this early day. In one of these, he says, " Can we lawfully 
 amass property by a course of trade which fills the land with beggars, and 
 widows, and orphans, and crimes ; which peoples the graveyard with pre 
 mature mortality, and the world of woe, with the victims of despair? 
 Could all the forms of evil produced in the land by intemperance come 
 upon us in one horrid array, it would appall the nation, and put an end to 
 the traffic in ardent spirits. If in every dwelling built by blood, the stone 
 from the wall should utter all the cries which the bloody traffic extorts, and 
 the beam out of the timber should echo them back, who would build 
 
OF AMERICANS. 221 
 
 such a house? and who would dwell in it? What if, in every part of the 
 dwelling, from the cellar upward, through all the halls and chambers, bab 
 blings, and contentions, and voices, and groans, and shrieks, and wailinga 
 were heard day and night? What if the cold blood oozed out, and stood in 
 drops upon the walls, and, by preternatural art, all the ghastly skulls and 
 bones of the victims destroyed by intemperance, should stand upon the 
 walls, in horrid sculpture, within and without the building who would 
 rear such a building? What if, at eventide, and at midnight, the airy forms 
 of men destroyed by intemperance, were dimly seen haunting the distil 
 leries and stores where they received their bane following the track of the 
 ship engaged in the commerce walking upon the waves flitting athwart 
 the deck sitting upon the rigging and sending up from the hold Vithin, 
 and from the waves without, groans, and loud laments, and wailings ! 
 Who would attend such stores? Who would labor in such distilleries? 
 Who would navigate such ships? 
 
 ! were the sky over our heads one great whispering gallery, bringing 
 down about us all the lamentation and woe which intemperance creates, 
 and the firm earth one sonorous medium of sound, bringing up around 
 us, from beneath, the wailings of the damned, whom the commerce in ar 
 dent spirits had sent thither ; these tremendous realities, assailing our sense, 
 would invigorate our conscience, and give decision to our purpose of refor 
 mation. But these evils are as real as if the stone did cry out of the wall, 
 and the beam answered it ; as real as if, day and night, wailings were heard 
 in every part of the dwelling, and blood and skeletons were seen upon 
 every wall ; as real as if the ghostly forms of departed victims flitted about 
 the ship as she passed over the billows, and showed themselves nightly 
 about stores and distilleries, and with unearthly voices, screamed in our ears 
 their loud lament. They are as real as if the sky over our heads collected 
 and brought down about us all the notes of sorrow in the land ; and the 
 firm earth should open a passage for the wailings of despair to come up 
 from beneath." 
 
 A little later in the history of the reformation, when many good men 
 still clung to the belief that the moderate use of ardent spirits was proper, 
 a public speaker of the time thus sang the praises of alcohol. 
 
 " It is a pleasant cordial; a cheerful restorative; the first friend of the 
 infant ; the support of the enfeebled mother ; a sweet luxury given by the 
 parent to the child ; the universal token of kindness, friendship, and hospi 
 tality. It adorns the sideboards and .tables of the rich, and enlivens the 
 social circles of the poor; goes with the laborer as his most cheering com 
 panion ; accompanies the mariner in his long and dreary vovage ; enlivens 
 tho carpenter, the mason, the blacksmith, the joiner, as they ply their trade ; 
 follows the merchant to his counter, the physician to his infected rooms, the 
 lawyer to his office, and the divine to his study, cheering all and comforting 
 all. It is the life of our trainings, and town-meetings, and elections, and 
 bees, and raisings, and harvests, and sleighing parties. It is the best domes 
 tic medicine, good for a cold and a cough, for pain in the stomach and 
 weakness in the limbs, loss of appetite and rheumatism, and is a great sup 
 port in old age. It makes a market for our rye and apples ; sustains one 
 
222 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 hundred thousand families who are distilling and vending, and pours annu 
 ally millions of dollars into our national treasury." 
 
 This public speaker was the Rev. John Marsh. He was using the argu 
 ments of the friends of moderate drinking, only the more effectually to 
 present a mass of statistics and facts which the industry of those of tem 
 perance had collected. As they are given in a vivid manner, we quote 
 them below: 
 
 " Look, my countrymen, at the ravages of intemperance. Fix your eye 
 on its waste of property. 
 
 At the lowest calculation, it has annually despoiled us of a hundred 
 millions of dollars of thirty millions for an article which is nothing worth, 
 and seventy or eighty millions more to compensate for the mischiefs that 
 article has done money enough to accomplish all that the warmest patriot 
 could wish for his country, and to fill, in a short period, the world with 
 Bibles, and a preached Gospel. What farmer would not be roused, should 
 a wild beast come once a year into his borders and destroy the best cow in 
 his farmyard? But six and a fourth cents a day for ardent spirits, wastes 
 twenty-two dollars eighty-one cents a year, and in forty years nearly one 
 thousand dollars, which is a thousand times as much as scores of drunkards 
 are worth at their burial. 
 
 See the pauperism it has produced. We have sung of our goodly heri 
 tage, and foreign nations have disgorged their exuberant population that 
 they might freely subsist in this land of plenty. But in this granary of the 
 world are everywhere seen houses without windows, fields without tillage, 
 barns without roofs, children without clothing, and penitentiaries and alms- 
 houses filled to overflowing ; and a traveler might write BEGGARS MADE 
 HERE. We are groaning under our pauperism, and talking of taxes, and 
 hard times, and no trade ; but intemperance has stalked through our land 
 and devoured our substance. It has entered the houses of our unsuspecting 
 inhabitants as a friend, and taken the food from their tables, and the 
 clothing from their beds, and the fuel from their fire, and turned their lands 
 over to others, and drove them from their dwellings to subsist on beggary 
 and crime, or drag out a miserable existence in penitentiaries and alms- 
 houses. Two thirds, or one hundred and fifty thousand, of the wretched 
 tenants of these abodes of poverty in the United States, were reduced by 
 intemperance. So themselves confess. It was rum, brandy, arid whisky, 
 that did it. And the Prison Discipline report tells of fifty thousand cases 
 of imprisonment for debt annually in the United States, in consequence of 
 the use of ardent spirits. 0, its sweeps of property can never -be known ! 
 
 Look at the crime it has occasioned. 
 
 It is said that there is a spring in China which makes every man that 
 drinks it a villain. Eastern tales are founded on some plain matter of fact. 
 This spring may be some distillery or dram-shop ; for this is the natura. 
 effect of alcohol. It breaks down the conscience, quickens the circulation, 
 increases the courage, makes man flout at law and right, and hurries him to 
 the perpetration of every abomination and crime. Excite a man by this 
 fluid, and he is bad enough for anything. He can lie, and steal, and fight, 
 and swear, and plunge the dagger into the bosom of his nearest friend. No 
 vice is too filthy, no crime too tragical for the drunkard. The records of 
 
OP AMERICANS. 223 
 
 our courts tell of acts, committed under the influence of rum, which curdle 
 the blood in our veins. Husbands batcher their wives ; children slaughter 
 their parents. Far the greater part of the atrocities committed in our land, 
 proceed from its maddening power. I declare, in this public manner, and 
 with the most solemn regard to truth, said Judge Rush, some years ago, 
 in a charge to a grand jury, that I do not recollect an instance since my 
 being concerned in the administration of justice, of a single person being 
 put on his trial for manslaughter, which did not originate in drunkenness ; 
 and but few instances of trial for murder, where the crime did not spring 
 from the same unhappy cause. Of eight hundred and ninety-five com 
 plaints presented to the police court in Boston in one year, four hundred 
 were under the statute against common drunkards. Of one thousand and 
 sixty-one cases of criminal prosecution in a court in North Carolina, more 
 than eight hundred proceeded from intemperance. Five thousand com 
 plaints are made yearly in New York to the city police, of outrages com 
 mitted by intoxicated persons ; and the late city attorney reports, that, of 
 twenty-two cases of murder which it had been his duty to examine, 
 every one of them had been committed in consequence of intemperate 
 drinking. Nine-tenths of all the prisoners under my care, says Captain 
 Pillsbury, warden of the Connecticut state prison, are decidedly intempe 
 rate men, and were brought to their present condition, directly or indirectly, 
 through intoxicating liquor. Many have confessed to me with tears, that 
 they never felt tempted to the commission of crime, thus punishable, but 
 when under the influence of strong drink. And the Prison Discipline re 
 port states, that of one hundred and twenty-five thousand criminals com 
 mitted to our prisons in a single year, ninety-three thousand seven hundred 
 and fifty were excited to their commission of crime by spirituous liquors. 
 Look at its destruction of intellect. 
 
 It reduces man to a beast, to a fool, to a devil. The excessive drinker 
 first becomes stupid, then idiotic, then a maniac. Men of the finest geniuses, 
 most acute minds, and profound learning, have dwindled under the touch 
 of this withering demon to the merest insignificance, and been hooted by 
 boys for their silly speeches, and silly actions, or chained in a madhouse as 
 unsafe in society. Of eighty-seven admitted into the New York hospital 
 in one year, the insanity of twenty-seven was occasioned by ardent spirits ; 
 and the physicians of the Pennsylvania hospital, report that one third of the 
 insane of that institution were ruined by intemperance. What if one sixth 
 of our maniacs were deprived of their reason by the bite cf the dogs, the 
 friendly inmates of our houses, or by some vegetable common on our tables ; 
 who would harbor the dangerous animal, or taste the poisonous vegetable? 
 But one third of our maniacs are deranged by alcohol. Indeed, every 
 drunkard is in a temporary delirium ; and no man who takes even a little 
 into his system, possesses that sound judgment, or is capable of that patient 
 investigation, or intellectual effort, which would be his without it. Just in 
 proportion as man comes under its influence, he approximates to idiotism 
 or madness. 
 
 Look at its waste of health and life. 
 
 The worm of the still never touches the brute creation, but, as if the 
 most venomous of all beings, it seizes the noblest prey. It bites man : 
 
224 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and where it once leaves its subtle poison, farewell to health farewell to 
 long life. The door is open, and in rush dyspepsia, jaundice, dropsy, gout, 
 obstructions of the liver, epilepsy the deadliest plagues let loose on fallen 
 man all terminating in delirium tremens or mania a potu, a prelude to the 
 eternal buffetings of foul spirits in the world of despair. One out of every 
 orty, or three hundred thousand of our population have taken up their 
 bode in the lazar-house of drunkenness, and thirty thousand die annually 
 the death of the drunkard. These sweeps of death mock all the ravages of 
 war, famine, pestilence, and shipwreck. The yellow fever in Philadelphia, 
 in 1793, felt to be one of the greatest curses of heaven, destroyed but four 
 thousand. In our last war with Great Britain, the sword devoured but five 
 hundred a year ; intemperance destroys two hundred a week. Shipwrecks 
 destroy suddenly, and the country groans when forty or fifty human beings 
 are suddenly engulfed in the ocean ; but more than half of all the sudden 
 deaths occur in fits of intoxication. It needed not a fable to award the 
 prize of greatest ingenuity in malice and murder to the demon who in 
 vented brandy, over the demon who invented war. 
 And look at its waste of human happiness. 
 
 Yes, look look for yourselves. The woes of drunkenness mock all 
 description. Some tell of the happiness of drinking. 0, if there is a 
 wretched being on earth, it is the drunkard. His property wasted, his char 
 acter gone, his body loathsome, his passions wild, his appetite craving the 
 poison that kills him, his hopes of immortality blasted forever ; it is all 
 
 Me miserable, 
 Which way I fly is hell, myself am hell. 
 
 And his family. I can never look at it but with feelings of deepest an 
 guish. 
 
 Domestic happiness, thou only bliss 
 Of Paradise that hast escaped the fall, 
 
 thou art shipwrecked here. Sorrow, woe, wounds, poverty, babblings, and 
 contention, have entered in and dwell here. Yet we have, three hundred 
 thousand such families in the land ; and if each family consists of four in 
 dividuals, more than a million persons are here made wretched by this 
 curse of curses." 
 
 The Temperance Pteformation progressed beyond the expectations of the 
 most sanguine. In six years from the commencement of the reform, viz : 
 in 1832, there were, in the United States, over four thousand temperance 
 societies, with over half a million of members ; one thousand five hundred 
 distilleries had ceased distilling, and four thousand merchants had ceased to 
 traffic in the poison. It was also estimated that a million and a half of 
 persons had abstained from the use of ardent spirits, and that twenty 
 thousand families were in ease and comfort, which otherwise would have 
 been in poverty or cursed with a drunken inmate. 
 
 A vear later these statistics had nearly doubled, and it was estimated that 
 there were seven hundred vessels afloat on the ocean, in which ardent spirits 
 were not used. This year, the American Congressional Temperance 
 Society, was formed at Washington, with Hon. Lewis Cass, Secretary of War, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 225 
 
 OB president. A few months previously the issue of ardent spirits to the 
 army had been prohibited. The United States Temperance Convention 
 met in Philadelphia, in May 1833. Seldom had a body of men assembled 
 of greater weight of character, and of higher and better influence in the 
 country. It was composed of over four hundred delegates, and from 
 twenty-one States. It strikes us as singular, as showing how little progress 
 had then been made in the views of the friends of temperance, that they 
 should have "a long and animated debate," upon a resolution "which ex 
 pressed the sentiment, that the traffic in ardent spirits to be used as a \)e v - 
 rage, is morally wrong, and ought to be universally abandoned." It was 
 " passed after a long and animated discussion ; " and, says a writer of the 
 time, " had the convention done nothing else, but after examination ex 
 pressed their opinion on this point, they had done a deed which would 
 have marked them as benefactors of their country." 
 
 Up to this period, and for a year or two later, all the temperance societies 
 had been organized on the principle of the voluntary pledge, which inter 
 dicted the use of distilled liquors as a beverage. It allowed the use of wine, 
 cider, and malt liquors. Thus the reform stood until a society in Lancashire, 
 England, perceiving the defect of what is now called the old pledge, adopted 
 what was named the tee-total principle total abstinence from all kinds of 
 intoxicating beverages. The word tee, is one of the provincialisms of Lan 
 cashire, signifying there the same as "going the whole figure" signifies 
 here. A member at one of their meetings said, "We must have a tee-to 
 tal abstinence from every kind of drink that will produce drunkenness, if 
 we wish to get rid of drunkenness itself;" and from this circumstance 
 came the word. 
 
 This idea, once started, soon became the basis on which the reform was 
 conducted, and in the year 1834, many of our societies changed the words 
 of their pledge from "ardent spirits," to "intoxicating liquors." In 1835, it 
 was adopted by the American Temperance Society. In 1836, the American 
 Temperance Union was formed, on the principle of total abstinence ; since 
 which period it has been the leading society of the land. The pledge of 
 the Union is : 
 
 "WE, THE UNDERSIGNED, DO AGREE THAT WE WILL NOT USE INTOXICA 
 TING LIQUORS AS A BEVERAGE, NOR TRAFKIC IN THEM J THAT WE WILL NOT 
 PROVIDE THEM AS AN ARTICLE OF ENTERTAINMENT, OR FOR PERSONS IN OUR 
 EMPLOYMENT, AND THAT, IN ALL SUITABLE WAYS, WE WILL DISCOUNTE 
 NANCE THEIR USE THROUGHOUT THE COMMUNITY." 
 
 The tee-total pledge met at first with much opposition, and, in many cases, 
 from those who had been very active in their advocacy of the old pledge. 
 The principle, however, eventually overcame opposition to such a degree, 
 that every temperance society in the land adopted it. 
 
 We present the arguments for and objections to total abstinence as given 
 by a writer of the time. 
 
 "To the adoption of this pledge, one objection offered, was, that temper 
 ance men, having signed the former pledge, would, as light shone and duty 
 was manifest, become right in their practice ; but it was found that all did 
 not become right, and that such as did not, hung as a millstone upon the 
 cause ; that by their use of wine, beer, and cider, they exposed the cause tc 
 
226 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 reproach, themselves to intemperance, and kept the miserable inebriate in 
 his drunkenness. 
 
 Another was, that it was not necessary to accomplish the desired result. 
 But it was found that it was necessary ; that the yeomanry of the country 
 would not give up their^jum and whisky, while temperance men in the 
 higher ranks drank wine ; that no drunkard could be reformed and saved, 
 except on the principle of total abstinence from all that intoxicates ; and 
 that the mass of young men in the higher walks of life, in colleges, in 
 counting-houses, in the learned professions, who became drunkards, became 
 so on wine, and not on distilled spirits. 
 
 Another was, that it destroyed the simplicity of the obligation under 
 which temperance men had acted with great harmony and success. But 
 the pledge of total abstinence from all that intoxicates is a much more 
 simple pledge ; far more intelligible, and one, as experience has proved, under 
 which all who will, may gather with much greater harmony and success. 
 
 Another was, that there is no call for such banishment of wine, beer, and 
 the like, from society, as there is for the banishment of distilled spirits. 
 But alcohol is in all fermented liquors, producing the same effects in kind 
 in the system as when separated by the process of distillation. Nearly alt 
 the wines of commerce are brandied ; and much of the foreign wine, and 
 wines of home manufacture, are nothing but distilled spirits and drugs. 
 Burton ale, according to Brande s table, has eight per cent, of alcohol, the 
 intoxicating principle ; cider, ten ; Champagne wine, eighteen ; Sherry, 
 nineteen ; Madeira, twenty-four ; Port, twenty-three ; Lissa, twenty-six ; 
 one-half of. what iff found in whisky, gin, rum, and brandy; while beer, 
 prepared as it often is by nux vomica, cocculus indicus, and grains of para 
 dise, is little behind the strongest drinks in its fatal tendency. For five 
 thousand years, wine was the great source of drunkenness among the nations ; 
 and who can deny that there was an amount of the horrid vice, under 
 various forms, far exceeding all human conception. 
 
 Another was, that it was at variance with the permission of the sacred 
 volume to drink wine, and subversive of a divine ordinance. But it had 
 no relation to a divine ordinance, being only a pledge to abstain from all 
 intoxicating drink, as a beverage ; to which every man has a right, ev^n 
 though there were a permission to use it. No command of God makes it 
 a duty to eat flesh, though it is permitted. And hence Paul was at liberty 
 to say, " It is good neither to eat flesh nor to drink wine, nor anything 
 whereby thy brother stumbleth ; " nor in so abstaining would he reproach 
 the Saviour, or subvert a divine ordinance. 
 
 Another was, that it was altogether impracticable. But it has been 
 found to be not at all impracticable, but to be far easier gaining signatures to 
 the pledge of entire abstinence from all that intoxicates, than it was origin 
 ally to the pledge from ardent spirits. 
 
 Another was, that it would throw off from the temperance ranks the 
 higher classes, he would not give up their wine ; and the farmers who 
 would not yield their cider. But it was found that many of the higher 
 classes were glad of a change in the habits of society, which would save 
 their sons from ruin ; and that such farmers as had ceased using ardent 
 spirits, did not want to be burned up with cider, and rejoiced in a change 
 
OF AMERICANS. 227 
 
 which saved them great toil, without profit, in the autumnal season ; and 
 scenes of riot and drunkenness in their households, during the long even 
 ings of winter. 
 
 Another was, that it would create a division in the temperance ranks, and 
 destroy all activity. But if it has created a division, it has divided men 
 who are resolved to extirpate drunkenness from me earth, cost what it 
 may, from such as plead for a little self-indulgence, and who, by that indul 
 gence, are palsied in their efforts ; and, instead of ruining the cause, it has 
 raised up an army who are rushing on to victory." 
 
 The discussion of the total abstinence pledge, included, also, what was 
 called, in the popular language of the day, " the wine question." Tho 
 Hon. Theodore Frelinghuysen, was among the most judicious in his advo 
 cacy of the new principle. 
 
 "The great principle," said he, "contended for, is the moral expediency 
 of this pure standard. Let it be granted that men may lawfully drink 
 wine ; that in Palestine where grapes hung upon the boughs in the greatest 
 profusion, men did drink wine ; that our Saviour himself drank wine, and 
 sanctioned it by his example ; yet how different are the circumstances in 
 which we find ourselves at this day. Then there was no such thing as ar 
 dent spirits, by which men were brutalized and destroyed, both body and 
 soul ; and it might not have been necessary then to abstain from that which in 
 our day we look upon as a temptation and a snare, leading men directly to 
 intemperance. But now the case presents itself to us in this light. A great 
 moral power which may be exercised to promote the welfare of our follow 
 men, is offered to us in this total abstinence principle. In a spirit of benig 
 nant feeling toward our race, we adopt it. We abstain from that which we 
 might use lawfully and without injury to ourselves, hoping, thereby, by our 
 example, to benefit others." 
 
 At a later time he said, "Let example plead for the sake of a bleeding 
 world. One says, I am not responsible, I am temperate, I drink moderately. 
 If others drink to excess, I am not responsible for their conduct. That 
 principle never had its origin in the word of God, or in a generous bosom. 
 There is not an individual who hears me, whose example is not going forth 
 and influencing others, for good or ill. When we meet in the judgment, 
 one of the first matters that will come up there will be the influence 
 which our example has exerted upon others. And, when the subject of 
 wine comes up here, how will the precepts of the gospel lead mo to dispose 
 of it? If my example is in danger of leading others astray, I must aban 
 don it; for it is good neither to eat flesh nor drink wine, nor anything 
 whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak. " 
 
 " The fact," says another, " that our Lord, by a miracle, produced wine at 
 the marriage of Cana, in Galilee, is urged as an invincible argument against 
 total abstinence from alcoholic drinks. But this, like every other reason of 
 the kind, is based upon the groundless assumption, that the term wine 
 always refers to the same kind of intoxicating drink ; whereas, history, 
 science, and even modern usage, show that such a conclusion is altogether 
 false. Among the Jews, Greeks, and Romans, there were various, descrip 
 tions of wines. There were the drugged, fermented, and poisonous wines, 
 injurious to the bodies, and stupefying to the minds of those who drank 
 15 
 
228 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 them ; and there were also the sweet, delicious, nutrient, or delightfully 
 acid wines, which would delight and please every palate, would nourish 
 the frame, quench thirst, refresh and cool the weary, and injure no one. 
 Now, we ask the reader to judge, which of the two the benevolent Re 
 deemer was most likely to produce? 
 
 " In Greece, Rome, and Palestine, it was customary to boil down their 
 wines into a kind of syrup. Columella, Pliny, and other Roman writers, 
 tell us that in Italy and Greece it was common to boil their wines. These 
 liquors must have been syrups, and every chemist knows that if they 
 were thick syrups, they could not have undergone the process of the ^nous 
 fermentation. The practice of evaporating the juice of the grape, must 
 have been adopted by the Jews in Palestine, as a wise precaution against 
 the heat of the country, for by this operation a considerable portion of the 
 water was boiled away, the solid and saccharine substances of the grape 
 were brought into a thicker consistence, and the acetous fermentation pre 
 vented. This historical fact respecting the boiling of grape juice, furnishes 
 us with proof that the wines of Palestine were not alcoholic, or did not 
 obtain their inebriating power from vinous fermentation. Yet it is not 
 intended to affirm that thy were all destitute of an intoxicating principle. 
 Other substances beside alcohol possess inebriating and stupefying, or mad 
 dening properties. In the sacred volume, we have several allusions to 
 such medicine or deleterious drugs. In Psalm Ix. 3, we read of "the wine 
 of astonishment or giddiness ; " Ixxv, 8, of wine, " red, and full of mixture." 
 Is. li, 17, mentions the "cup of trembling and giddiness." In Prov. xxiii, 
 30, we read of those who go to "seek mixed wine." The wine mentioned 
 Prov. xxxi, 4-7, was a soporific drink. The wine mixed with myrrh and 
 gall, or a species of laudanum, offered to our Lord, was intended to produce 
 stupefaction, and therefore he would not drink." 
 
 The next question that came up was the propriety of granting licenses to 
 eell ardent spirits. Laws of this kind had been in force from the early set 
 tlement of the country. The first license law of Massachusetts was passed 
 in 1646. In April, 1638, the legislature of that State passed, by a ma 
 jority of more than two thirds, what was termed the "fifteen gallon -law." 
 It forbade the retailing of any spirituous liquors, under a penalty of twenty 
 dollars, excepting by apothecaries and physicians, specially licensed, and 
 they were not permitted to sell in a less quantity than fifteen gallons. The 
 sales were only to be made for use in the arts, or for medicinal purposes ; 
 and none were to be drank on the premises where sold. The legislatures of 
 Tennessee, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire, also passed 
 laws designed to more closely restrict, and in some cases to prevent entirely, 
 the sale of ardent spirits, to be used as a beverage. Up to this period, the 
 friends of temperance had relied for success, upon an appeal to the moral 
 sense of the community to "moral suasion." What was the practical an 
 swer to this, on the part of the manufacturers and dealers in ardent spirits? 
 " Pooh ! " said they, " we have millions upon millions of money invested in 
 our trade, which yields us a handsome profit ; and do you think your 
 whining and weeping, can induce us to abandon this trade? Your sons, 
 fathers, and husbands are not obliged to drink. If they will drink what is 
 that to us.? Mind your own business." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 229 
 
 Coercioi], or " legal suasion," then failed to accomplish the desired ends. 
 First came secret evasion, and then open violation of these laws, until they 
 were either repealed or remained a dead letter on the statute books. 
 
 An incident which occurred at a general militia muster somewhere in 
 Massachusetts, gained considerable notoriety at the time, as an amusing 
 evasion of the fifteen gallon law. On a tent at the ground, was a show bill 
 as below : 
 
 GREAT CURIOSITY. 
 
 THE STRIPED PIO. 
 
 o le seen here Admittance 6% cts. 
 
 Crowds flocked to see the wonder, and what was curious to the unini 
 tiated, many were not contented with a single visit, but made repeated calls 
 in the course of the day often taking their friends with them and as they 
 came out, were in a jovial humor ; some of them at length showed such an 
 uproarious hilarity, as to draw the attention of the authorities to the spot. 
 On entering, they found a common white pig painted in black stripes, zebra 
 like: near him stood a table well provided with New England rum, brandy, 
 gin, etc., which the owner of the show had provided, at his own expense, 
 for the refreshment of the curiosity-seekers. There being no law in Massa 
 chusetts against exhibiting a common pig daubed with black paint, nor none 
 against giving away alcoholic stimulants, the exhibitor suffered no harm; 
 indeed, he was said by some to have brought his pig to a good market. 
 
 The political campaign of 1840, sometimes called " the Hard Cider Cam 
 paign" which resulted in the election of General Harrison to the presidency, 
 occasioned a pause in the Temperance movement. It is said that some oppo 
 nent had declared he was unfit for the office, because he never had the ability 
 to raise himself beyond the occupancy of a log-cabin, in which he lived very 
 coarsely, with no better beverage than hard cider. It was an unfortunate 
 charge for the wishes of the accuser. The taunt of his being a poor man, 
 and living in a log-cabin, was seized upon by his political friends, as evidence 
 of his incorruptibility in the many responsible stations he had held ; and 
 4 the log-cabin " became at once the symbol of the Whig party. Thousands 
 )f these were forthwith erected all over the land, as rallying points for 
 oolitical meetings. Miniature cabins were carried in political processions, 
 ind in some cases barrels labeled " hard cider." 
 The public mind cannot be simultaneously excited on two subjects, nor 
 
230 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 long upon one. In the whirl of this memorable campaign, everything else 
 was for the time forgotten ; and although perhaps not much hard cider was 
 drank, yet it is to be presumed that poor whisky, rum, and other coarse 
 forms of alcoholic drinks, in unusual quantities, ministered to and increased 
 the wild furor of the day. 
 
 * Principles never die ; " although great reforms may be temporarily 
 crushed, yet, often at the very moment of the lowest depression, unseen 
 causes are originating, destined to impart an unwonted vigor to the right. 
 Such was now the case, for this very year gave birth to the Washingtoniaa 
 phase of the Temperance Reform. Heretofore, the cure of those far gone in 
 habits of inebriety was generally thought hopeless ! The main object of the 
 pledge had been preservation not cure. It is true that many inebriates signed 
 the old pledge. This proved of little avail while alcoholic wines were 
 allowed ; and when the new pledge was instituted they were still without 
 the countenance of their former boon associates in their new relation, and in 
 most cases relapsed into their old habits. 
 
 When the Temperance Reformation arose, "there were supposed to be in 
 the United States not less than three hundred thousand common drunkards. 
 The most of them were husbands and fathers. Many had large families. 
 Their houses were generally known by the broken door-yard fence ; the 
 fallen gate ; the windows stuffed with old hats and rags ; the clapboards 
 dangling in the air ; the barns held up by props and stripped of their boards, 
 which had been used for fuel ; a half-starved horse standing in the street 
 and several ragged children, who, without hats or shoes, spent their days in 
 dragging brush-wood from the neighboring forests, or in begging pennies 
 from door to door, to buy their mother a loaf of bread. 
 
 In the interior, little was visible either of neatness or comfort. No bed but 
 one of straw, laid on knotted ropes ; here a show of a table, and there a 
 broken chair. A half dozen broken plates, rusty knives and forks, and iron 
 spoons ; a mug for cider, and a bottle for rum. Neither carpet nor plaster 
 ing was there if it was winter, the snow would often lie upon the bed, and 
 the mother and her children be seen huddled together over a few embers, 
 as their only refuge. Night would come, but no sound of a father s voice 
 with comfortable food to cheer and gladden. The children would cry them 
 selves to sleep. The mother would sit and " watch the moon go down," 
 till distant footsteps -were heard, and horrid oaths vented at not finding the 
 door, causing her heart to quail ; and a monster in human shape, but the 
 father of her children, would burst upon her, and perhaps drive her out in 
 the cold and dreary night, even in a pitiless storm, compelling her to leave 
 her babes to his neglect or cruelties. 
 
 These were homes witnessed in almost every neighborhood. The inhabit 
 ants were accustomed to the spectacle as a necessary appendage to their 
 village, as the church, the school-house, the tavern, the dram-shop, or the 
 comfortable home of the sober and the frugal ; and it attracted no particular 
 notice, unless there went forth, at midnight hour, a cry of murder : and then, 
 for a little season, all thought something must be done ; the wife must swear 
 the peace upon her husband, and he, by authority, be sent to jail. But thia 
 she would not do ; he was her husband ; he promised to reform, and thinga 
 would be left to pass on much as before. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 231 
 
 From this very class originated a movement which astonished the cjuntry, 
 and lifted the Temperance Reform up to a point it had never previously 
 attained. On the evening of Friday, April 2d, 1840, six men of intem 
 perate habits met at Chase s Tavern, in Baltimore, to gratify their appetite 
 for strong drink. They were Win. K. Mitchell, a tailor; John T. Hoss, a 
 carpenter ; David Anderson, a blacksmith ; George Steers, a wheelwright ; 
 Jas. McCurly, a coachmaker; and Archibald Campbell, a silverplater. 
 " Thus they met as they had often met before ; but neither seemed inclined 
 to call for the subtle poison that had so many times stolen away their reason. 
 Soon the feelings of each became known to the others, and they felt a sudden 
 hope springing up in their minds a hope in the power of association. Sad 
 experience had proven to each one of that little company, that alone he 
 could not stand. But together, shoulder to shoulder, hand to hand, and 
 heart to heart, they felt that though the struggle would be hard, they could, 
 and they would conquer I 
 
 In that moral pest-house then, while inhaling with every breath the 
 tempting fumes of the potations they loved, did this little band pledge 
 themselves to each other, never again to drink any kind of intoxicating 
 drink spirits, wine, malt, or cider." 
 
 They organized themselves into a society, and called it the Washington 
 Temperance Society. Then they went to some of their old companions, told 
 them what they had done, and invited them to join their society. A few 
 were found to break away from their bondage and unite with them. Thus 
 their power and influence became increased. Others soon followed the 
 example, and it was not long before the society numbered over one hundred 
 members, each one of whom had been for years in the habit of drinking, and 
 most of them occasionally to intoxication. 
 
 All this time, each member was using all his powers of reasoning and per 
 suasion to induce his old companions to come in. Some would, on the nights 
 of their meetings, station themselves near the grog-shops they had formerly 
 been in the habit of visiting, and intercept those whom they knew, before 
 they had reached the doors they were seeking. Then they would reason 
 with them, and persuade them to come to the society ; if not to join, at least 
 to hear. In this way numbers were added. Such members as had no 
 work, were aided as far as possible, and efforts were made to procure work 
 for them." 
 
 And thus the reformation went on. Their meetings were conducted by 
 the relation of the experience of the speakers. Neither of these original six 
 became distinguished speakers, but the president, Wm. K. Mitchell, a man. 
 of rare genius, vigorous intellect, and commanding influence, threw into the 
 association a power, which soon caused it to be felt through the whole city. 
 The thrilling tales narrated by the reformed, as they signed the pledge, were 
 widely spread abroad, and by the close of 1840, thousands had flocked to 
 their standard, many of whom had been miserable slaves to the intoxica 
 ting cup. 
 
 One of these, John H. W. Hawkins, a hatter by trade, was reduced, at the 
 age of twenty-two, to extreme drunkenness. He wandered far off from his 
 friends to the West, where he suffered every evil from poverty, degradation, 
 and vice lived years in Baltimore, without providing food or clothing for 
 
232 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 his family, a living death to them. His wife would sit up for him until 
 midnight, and watch to see whether he came home drunk or sober ; often 
 would he fall prostrate in his hall, ^nd his little daughter would cover him 
 with a blanket until morning light. This individual soon became a powerful 
 public speaker. He traveled through the country relating his experience, 
 and was the means of saving thousands from the drunkard s fate. In the 
 course of two years he succeeded in attaining the signatures of more than 
 eighty thousand persons to the pledge. " On the 15th of June, 1840," said 
 he, in one of his public addresses, " I drank and suffered awfully I can t 
 tell how much I suffered in mind in body everything, but in mind more. 
 I drank dreadfully the two first weeks of June bought by the gallon, and 
 drank, and drank, and was about taking my life drunk all the time. On 
 the 14th, I was a wonder to myself ; astonished I had my mind left, and 
 yet it seemed, in the goodness of God, uncommonly clear. I lay in bed 
 long after my wife and daughter were up, and my conscience drove me to 
 madness. I hated the darkness of the night ; and when light came, I hated 
 the light. I hated myself my existence. I asked myself, Can I refrain ; 
 is it possible ? Not a being to take me by the hand, and lead or help me 
 along, and say you can. I was friendless ; without help or light ; an outcast. 
 My wife came up stairs, and knew I was suffering, and asked me to go down 
 to breakfast. I had a pint of whisky, and thought I would drink ; and yet 
 I knew it was life or death with me as I decided. Well, I told my wife I 
 would come down presently. Then my daughter came up and asked me 
 down. I always loved her more because she was the drunkard s friend 
 my only friend. 
 
 " She said, Father, don t send me after whisky to-day. I was tormented 
 before, but this was an unexpected torture. I told her to leave the chamber, 
 and she went down crying, and said to her mother, Father is angry with 
 me. Wife came up again, and asked me to take some coffee ; I told her I 
 did not want anything of her, and covered myself in the bed. I soon heard 
 some one enter the room, and I peeped out and saw it was my daughter. I 
 then thought of my past life ; my degradation ; misery of my friends ; and 
 felt bad enough. So I called her and said, Hannah, I am not angry with 
 you, and I shall not drink any more. She cried, and so did I. I got up 
 and went to the cupboard, and looked at the enemy, and thought, Is it 
 possible I can be restored ? and then turned my back upon it. Several 
 times, while dressing, I looked at the bottle, but thought I should be lost if 
 I yielded. Poor drunkard ! there is hope for you. You cannot be worse ofi 
 than I was; not more degraded, or more of a slave to appetite. You can 
 reform if you will. Try it try it ! I felt badly, I tell you. 
 
 "Well, Monday night I went to the Society of Drunkards, and there I 
 found all my old bottle companions. I did not tell anybody 1 was going, 
 not even my wife. I had got out of difficulty, but did not know how long 
 I would keep out. The six-pounders of the society were there. We had 
 fished together ; got drunk together. You could not break us up when 
 drunk. We stuck like brothers, and so we do now, we are sober. One 
 said, here is Hawkins, the regulator, the old bruiser ; and they clapped me 
 and laughed, as you do now. But there was no laugh or clap in me. I 
 was too sober and solemn for that. The pledge was read for my accommoda- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 233 
 
 tion. They did not say so, and yet I knew they all looked over my 
 shoulder to see me write my name. I never had such feelings before. It 
 was a great battle. I once fought the battle at North Point, and helped to 
 run away too, but now there was no running away. I found the society 
 had a large pitcher of water ; drank toasts, and told experiences. There I 
 laid my plan ; I did not intend to be a drone. Alcohol promised me every 
 thing, but I found him a great deceiver, and now I meant to do him all the 
 harm I could. 
 
 " At eleven I went home. When I stayed out late, I always went home 
 drunk. Wife had given me up again, and thought I would be home drunk 
 again, and she began to think about breaking up and going home to mother s. 
 My yard is covered with brick, and as I went over the brick, wife listened, 
 as she told me, to determine whether the gate-door opened drunk or sober, 
 for she could tell, and it opened sober and shut sober ; and when I entered, 
 my wife was standing in the middle of the room, to see me as I came in. 
 She was astonished, but I smiled and she smiled, as I caught her keen black 
 eye. I told her quick ; I could not keep it back. I have put my name to 
 the temperance pledge, never to drink as long as I live. It was a happy 
 time. I cried, and she cried ; we could not help it, and crying waked up 
 our daughter, and she cried too. I tell you this, that you may know how 
 happy the reformation of a drunkard makes his family. I slept none that 
 night, my thoughts were better than sleep. Next morning I went to see 
 my mother, old as she was. I must go to see her and tell her of our joy. 
 She had been praying twenty years for her drunken son. Now, she said, 
 * It is enough, I am ready to die. It made all my connections happy." 
 
 Possessed of a clear, strong, and mellow voice, and having unusually 
 warm affections ; being entirely willing to relate the whole of his bitter 
 experience, and doing it, not in a spirit of boasting, but contrition, he soon 
 became a prominent speaker ; and under his addresses, large and intelligent 
 audiences were often in tears. In the course of the ensuing winter, he 
 attended the anniversary of the Maryland State Temperance Society, at 
 Annapolis, and related his experience before the members of the State 
 Legislature, with much effect ; the house, it is said, were dissolved in tears. 
 In the following March, he, with four other reformed men from Baltimore, 
 came, by invitation, to New York, where, under the relation of their per 
 sonal experience, before immense crowds, commenced the Washingtonian 
 Reform of that city. At the first meeting, while Mr. Hawkins was speak 
 ing, in the Green Street Methodist Church, a poor drunkard cried out in the 
 gallery, " Can I be saved, too ? " " Yes," said Mr. Hawkins, " you can. 
 Come down and sign the pledge." With a little solicitation, the man came 
 down, and, supported by two others, came up to the altar and signed the 
 pledge. The victory was now gained. The work of redemption among 
 poor drunkards commenced. Another uttered forth the feelings of his 
 heart, and was induced to come down and sign the pledge. Five or six 
 others of the miserable class soon followed, and some thirty or forty besides, 
 well known as hard drinkers or drunkards. It was the first fruits of a 
 great harvest. 
 
 On another occasion, he said : " Go to Baltimore and see our now happy 
 wives and families. Only look at our procession on the 5th of April, when 
 
234 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 we celebrated our anniversary. Two thousand men, nearly half of them 
 reformed within a year, followed by two thousand boys of all ages, to give 
 assurance to the world that the next generation shall all be sober. But 
 where were our wives on that occasion ? At home, shut up with hungry 
 children in rags as a year ago ? No, no ! but in carriages, riding round tho 
 streets to see their sober husbands ! 
 
 My family were in a hack, and I carried apples, cakes, etc., to them, and 
 
 wife said, How happy all look ; why, husband, there is all dressed 
 
 up and only think, I saw old in the procession, as happy and smart 
 
 as any of them ; and so she went on telling me who she had seen, And 
 where do you think the grog-sellers wives were ? Were they out ? Not 
 they! Some of them peeped out from behind their curtains! We cut 
 down the rum tree that day in Baltimore, under ground ; not on the top of 
 the ground, leaving a stump, but under ground, roots and all ! " 
 
 Of the dangers and results of the drinking usages of society, and the 
 horrid traffic in intoxicating liquors, he spoke .with an honest but just indig- 
 nation> showing talents of no ordinary character. 
 
 " This drinking has killed more men, women, and children, than war, 
 pestilence, and all other evils together. You cannot bring upon man so 
 awful a curse as alcohol ; it cannot be done ; no machinery or invention of 
 death can work like it. Is there a moderate drinker, who says he can use 
 a little, or much, and quit when he pleases? I tell him from ex 
 perience, he can t do it. Well, he can if he tvitt, but HE WON T WILL, that is 
 the difficulty, and there is the fatal mistake. Does he want to know 
 whether he can ? I ask him to go without his accustomed morning bitters, 
 or his eleven o clock, to-morrow, and he will find how he loves it ! Wo 
 have come up out of the gutter to tell him how he loves it, and how he 
 may escape. It is the moderate use the little, the pretty drink, the gen 
 teel and fashionable, that does the mischief the moderate drinker is train 
 ing to take the place of the drunkard. 
 
 This making the drunkard by a thousand temptations and inducements, 
 and then shutting him up in prison, is a cruel and horrible business. You 
 make the drunkard, and then, if he cornes into your house, you turn him 
 out ; let him come to the church, and you turn him out ; friends cast him 
 off; the grog-seller turns him out when his money is gone, or midnight 
 comes. When he serves his time out in the prison, he is turned out with 
 the threat of flogging if he is ever caught again : and yet you keep open the 
 place where he is entangled and destroyed. You are bound to turn the 
 whole tide of public opinion against the traffic. The seller will pour down 
 your son s throat a tide of liquor, and you do so to his son and he would 
 cut your throat. Ask him if he is willing you should make his daughter a 
 drunkard, and why should he make your son one ? " 
 
 Two others of these Baltimore reformers, Messrs. Pollard and Wright, 
 were plain, uneducated men, but great inebriates. Their victories in New 
 York, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, almost surpassed 
 belief. They attended over five hundred meetings, and obtained above 
 sixty thousand signatures to the pledge. A third, Mr. Vickers, once one of 
 the most abandoned of men, so debased as to leave his wife and five children 
 eighteen months without a dollar to feed or clothe them, and who was so 
 
OF AMERICANS. 235 
 
 reduced and changed, that when he finally came home his wife did not 
 know him ; this man, by his history and powerful appeals, kindled up a 
 flame which spread over all the West, and he himself witnessed the signa 
 tures of seventy thousand names to the pledge. 
 
 Another, George Haydock, an inhabitant of Hudson, N. Y., who seemed 
 to embody in himself all the ravages of alcohol over body, mind, and heart ; 
 who had been bereft by this destroyer, in blasting rocks, of one leg and one 
 eye, and was viewed as perfectly irreclaimable, gathered over eight thousand 
 signatures to the pledge of which at least one thousand were from common 
 drunkards. 
 
 Another remarkable instrument in this work was Joseph Hayes, of Bath, 
 Maine, of whom it was a proverb, "drunk as old Hayes." His poverty, 
 destitution, and debasement, were the most extreme. He had one garment, 
 for which no name could be given. The hat which he wore through the 
 cold winter was made of straw. Boots he had none, and his shoes were in 
 very bad order. But with an uncommon vigor of intellect and powerful 
 frame, he traversed, as a perfectly reformed man, many parts of the State, 
 waging an exterminating war with his old enemy ; extensively reclaiming 
 inveterate drunkards, and breaking up the most profitable fiquor establish 
 ments. 
 
 In New Haven, Conn., lived a Mr. Abel Bishop, than whom, perhaps, no 
 man ever passed through a more horrid fever of delirium tremens and lived. 
 Men were about him, in his apprehension, to flay him alive. He saw them 
 begin to cut his flesh with saws, and to pull off his skin in strings, and hang 
 them on wires. At other times, it seemed to him a cage of wild beasts were 
 let loose upon him. At one moment he thought his breast was full of 
 anima s : he asked a young man to draw them out, which he did, and every 
 time he drew one out a horrid sensation of faintness came over him. At 
 another time, he thought his comrades were assaulting him with hooks, 
 which they endeavored to strike into his flesh. He would stand on the 
 defensive, fighting till the sweat from his body would stand in puddles on 
 the floor. This man, reformed by this new instrumentality, became himself 
 a public advocate of the cause, visited most of the counties in tho State, 
 and, by his relation of the awful consequences of rum drinking in his own 
 case, everywhere produced great results. 
 
 Even in death, two years later, the influence of Mr. Bishop still worked 
 for good. On the day after his decease, a young man of promise, but fast 
 forming intemperate habits, came, at the instigation of a friend, into the shop 
 where that coffin was making, and expressed a wish to sign the pledge. 
 The pledge was read to him. With an oath, he declared he would not thus 
 give up his liberty ; and yet, said he, if I do not come to it, I shall soon 
 want a coffin myself. Whose coffin is this ? The maker told him, and 
 gave him in brief the history of Mr. Bishop, his dreadful careei, his delirium, 
 his reform, his labors, his triumph and happy death. Give me, said- the 
 much-affected young man, a pen. He took it, and there, over Mr. Bishop s 
 coffin, sigtled the pledge. 
 
 In every part of the Union, the meetings of the reformed men became the 
 great attraction of the time. Curiosity drew to them the most abandoned 
 drunkards, and the most heartless of the retailers of alcoholic drinks. The 
 
236 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 latter eyed the reformed with a peculiar malignancy, that can be only ex 
 pressed by the term hellish. Signing the pledge, they stigmatized as 
 "signing away of one s liberty." Invective, ridicule, and every appliance 
 \vhich malice and selfishness combined could invent, were used to recover 
 their lost customers. The reformed man, who had scarcely power to stand 
 alone, was too often again enticed to ruin. Many a wife, and many a 
 daughter, as was attested by the history of the times, has, on bended knees, 
 and with streaming eyes, besought some one of these men to withhold the 
 fatal draught from a husband or a father, and been denied with a laugh of 
 fiendish exultation : nay, worse, driven away with blows. To such men, 
 these meetings of the Washingtonians were viewed with anything but 
 pleasurable emotions. Not unfrequently they witnessed one of their cus 
 tomers, in a state of inebriation, stagger up and sign the pledge, as is illus 
 trated in our engraving ; and, furthermore, often under these circumstances 
 had the after disappointment, with all their arts, of not being able again 
 to lure him within the embrace of their snaky, slimy coil. 
 
 The mental power of the reformed, in many cases, burst forth to the sur 
 prise of all who knew them. " Men, who for years had been lost to the 
 world, and where known, known only as stupid, sottish, imbecile drunkards, 
 in many instances exhibited rare powers of public address, and for hours 
 commanded the attention of large and intelligent audiences, producing con 
 viction where all argument before had failed, exciting sympathies where 
 none had before existed, and producing an almost complete revolution in 
 society. Their self-respect and moral sense, too, rose at once as from a, 
 night of oblivion. Men who were lost to all sense of shame ; who were seen 
 day by day ragged, filthy, unshaven ; who cared not who were their asso 
 ciates, how low their condition ; who would even make their bed with the 
 swine : men who would lie and steal, became well dressed, respected them 
 selves and their standing in society, abhorred vicious company and vicious 
 conduct, and felt again, and perhaps far more deeply than ever before, that 
 they were moral and accountable beings, and responsible for all their conduct 
 to the great Author of their existence. There was also a happy restoration of 
 natural affection. The moment the dramshop was renounced, that moment the 
 heart turned back to its long-forsaken home, to the abused wife, and to the 
 wretched children. There were found objects of attachment, which melted 
 the long brutalized spirit, and there was shown a devotion to their interests, 
 a willingness to labor for them, and a determination to provide for their 
 future welfare, soothing the sorrows and afflictions that were hurrying them 
 to the grave. From these various results of the reformation of an untold 
 number of drunken husbands, fathers, and sons, there was an actual relief 
 of domestic misery and creation of domestic happiness probably never before 
 realized from any one occurrence since the world began. 
 
 The miserable men, who were throughout the country, especially in the 
 iarge cities, the subjects of this reform, were at first without decent clothing, 
 without food or employment, and their families were destitute, afflicted, 
 and exposed to the worst temptations. Though the drunkard had ever 
 been cast off as an odious being, and his poor unfortunate family had been 
 left to partake of his poverty and degradation, yet the moment he seemed 
 to make a bold and honest resolution to rise, the sympathies of many were 
 
OF AMERICANS. 237 
 
 moved toward him. First, the reformed rnen themselves who sought hitn 
 out and took him by the hand, who led him to the Temperance meeting 
 and encouraged him to sign the pledge, did what they could to minister to 
 his necessities. In their temporary asylum, in some sail loft, they washed, 
 and combed, and nurtured him, but they could not clothe him. Appeals in 
 their behalf were made to the public, and some feeble aid was rendered ; 
 but system was needed, and the heart of woman was touched. Ladies 
 combined in several cities in associations, properly called Martha Washing 
 ton Societies, taking the work of supplying the wants of the reformed into 
 their own hands, and the result was of the most heart-cheering character. 
 
 Whenever the reformed men made a public manifestation of their joy and 
 gratitude at their wonderful escape from the fangs of the monster which 
 ground them in the dust, they were at once met with a most enthusiastic 
 response from almost the entire community. At their first public procession 
 hi Baltimore, on the 5th of April, 1841, the whole city came out to seo 
 what new thing this was, and to bid them God speed in their glorious 
 enterprise. 
 
 The next year, at New York, on the 29th of March, at Cincinnati on the 
 5th, and at Philadelphia on the 12th of April, the anniversary of the com 
 mencement of the Washington movement was celebrated by grand tri 
 umphant Temperance processions ; which, had they been surpassed by those 
 of a civic character, which, it is believed, they seldom have, contained 
 elements of moral sublimity deeply affecting. Hundreds and thousands 
 looked upon these reformed men, numbering in each of the cities many 
 thousands, waving their appropriate banners in glorious triumph over the 
 worst of human foes, and asserting before the world their dignity and happi 
 ness as free and sober men, and bade them onward to their wonderful enter 
 prise. The following notice from a Cincinnati paper, affords a specimen 
 of the enthusiastic and sympathetic feeling in each of the three great 
 cities. 
 
 " When the column had arrived on Vine above Third street, they were 
 received by the Juvenile Temperance Society of the Ninth Street Baptist 
 Church. The band in front ceased playing, and the juveniles commenced 
 singing a most delightful Temperance hymn. The effect was electrical. 
 Many a cheek was bedewed with tears, in that column tears that could 
 not be restrained. As we turned into Fourth street from Vine, we found 
 the juvenile societies posted on the left, as far as the eye could reach clown 
 the street occupying the whole of the sidewalk almost to Western-Row ; 
 and as the front of the column came opposite to each society, they com 
 menced their Temperance songs, prepared for the occasion, with great spirit 
 and overwhelming effect. Every heart seemed to be moved by this, to 
 most, unexpected welcome. The column marched along this line with 
 uncovered heads, while on the opposite side of the street every inch of 
 pavement, every window, and even the roofs of the houses, where it was 
 practicable, were occupied with ladies, who welcomed the procession with 
 their joyous smiles, the waving of handkerchiefs, and every possible ex 
 pression of their approbation. Along the whole line of march the streets 
 were crowded with delighted and eager spectators. When the procession 
 arrived at the park, it was received by the ladies of the Martha Washington 
 
238 ADVENTURES A1S T D ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Society, who were posted on the north side of the park. Here was another 
 scene of great excitement and interest. Every side of the park, and every 
 street leading to it, were crowded to overflowing all anxious to witness 
 every movement of this great moral pageant." 
 
 At this important era, Dr. Thomas Sewall, an eminent physician and dis 
 tinguished philanthropist of the City of Washington, exhibited to the public 
 a series of plates, representing, from actual dissections, the influence of 
 alcohol upon the human stomach ; the state of the stomach of the perfectly 
 temperate man, of the moderate drinker, of the habitual drunkard, of the 
 drunkard after a debauch, and of the drunkard dying of delirium tremens. 
 The exhibition was accompanied with a lecture upon the pathology of 
 drunkenness, which was listened to with deep attention by three thousand 
 citizens of Washington, and many members of the national government 
 Copies of these plates were extensively circulated everywhere, and proved 
 of great service in imparting correct knowledge on the subject. 
 
 The effect of the exhibition in Washington was electrical, and in a few 
 weeks it excited the friends of total abstinence in Congress to unite in a Con 
 gressional Total Abstinence Society. The Congressional Temperance Society 
 formed ten years before, on the principle of abstinence from the use of 
 ardent spirits, was respectable and useful in its day. But while other in 
 toxicating drinks were continued in use, especially the wines of commerce, 
 highly brandied, intemperance was not surpressed even among its members, 
 and in a few years it languished and died. The time had now come for an 
 organization on the principle of total abstinence from all intoxicating 
 liquors as a beverage. Such a society was formed on the 9th of February, 
 1842. More than eighty members of Congress united with the society, by 
 signing the total abstinence pledge. 
 
 A new feature at this period, was the formation of Children s Temperance 
 Societies, called the Cold Water Army. In the year 1841, in the single State 
 of Massachusetts, thirty-five thousand badges, and twelve hundred chil 
 dren s banners were sold. In Sunday schools, too, all over the land, vast 
 multitudes enlisttd under the Temperance standard. These gathered by 
 thousands on the Fourth of July, and on other occasions, and marched 
 forth singing : 
 
 " With banner and with badge we come 
 ^ Away the bowl, away the bowl," 
 
 To some beautiful grove, there to partake of a plentiful repast in joy and 
 thanksgiving. That department of Temperance action derived new interest 
 from the Washingtonian Reform. With their father, the children of the 
 drunkard had been outcasts from society. They had no place in the day- 
 school or the Sabbath-school. Ragged and filthy, they had been left to 
 roam about the miserable habitation of their parent ; and bring rum from the 
 store for a drunken father, or drag brush from the woods for a broken-hearted 
 mother. But relief came. A jubilee was proclaimed for thousands on 
 thousands. The drunken father was reformed, and the children were in a 
 pew world. They were clothed and fed, and found a place in the public 
 school. Other children sympathized with them, and if there was one selected 
 
OF AMERICANS. 239 
 
 to carry the banner on the public festival, it often was the drunkard s son, or 
 the drunkard s daughter. 
 
 Another feature of the times, was the immense number of hotels which 
 sprang up all over the land, conducted on the Temperance principle. One of 
 the good stories told by the Washingtonians, was of a man who was in the 
 country on a visit, where they had no liquor. He got up two hours before 
 breakfast, and wanted his bitters. None to be had ; of course he felt bad. 
 " How far is it to a tavern ? " he asked. " Four miles." So off the thirsty 
 soul started walked four miles in a pleasant frame of mind, arrived at the 
 tavern and found it was a Temperance house. 
 
 The Temperance Reform was, by no means, confined to our country. In 
 the year 1842, it was estimated there were ten milliaiis of teetotallers on the 
 globe. Early in the history of the reform, Temperance missionaries had 
 gone out from our country to various parts of the world. Temperance soci 
 eties were established in Canada ; in Great Britain, in Sweden, and other 
 parts of Europe ; in South Africa, and the Cape of Good Hope ; in the East 
 Indies, and Australia ; in the West Indies, and in the Sandwich Islands. 
 Our countryman, the Rev. Robert Baird, visited most of the northern coun 
 tries of Europe ; and it is said, the result of his labors led to the reduction or 
 shutting up of not less than forty thousand distilleries. 
 
 In August, 1846, a grand gathering of the friends of Temperance, took 
 place at London, under the title of " THE WORLD S TEMPERANCE CONVEN 
 TION." No less than three hundred delegates, appointed by their respective 
 Temperance Societies, in various parts of the world, attended it thirty of 
 whom crossed the Atlantic, from our country, for the special purpose. As 
 King Oscar of Sweden and his amiable consort had, through the solicitations 
 of Dr. Baird, done so much for the Temperance cause in Sweden, they 
 united in an address to the crowned heads of Europe, in the hope that 
 others might follow the example of the Swedish monarch. 
 
 Another great event of the same year, was the decision of the Supreme 
 Court of the United States at Washington, on the License question, which 
 had been waited for by friends and enemies of the cause with the greatest 
 interest. The constitutionality of State laws prohibiting the traffic in in 
 toxicating liquors without license, had been doubted and denied, and by 
 appeal had been carried from State courts to the Supreme Court of the 
 nation. There it was ably argued by distinguished counsel, and after much 
 delay, preventing and retarding prosecutions for the violation of license laws 
 in several States, the court unanimously affirmed to the States the right of 
 "regulating the trade in, and licensing the sale of ardent spirits." The 
 decision was received by the friends of Temperance throughout the whole 
 country with great rejoicings. 
 
 At this period, comparatively few common drunkards were found in any 
 part of our country. Where twenty years previously were from fifty to 
 seventy in a village or town, now only here and there was an individual of 
 that class. This of course does not refer to the masses of drunken men and 
 women in the cities, mostly of the very lowest class of foreigners, idle, 
 vicious, and abandoned wretches. The Washingtonian movement in a few 
 years had, in a measure, spent its force, for the want of the material on 
 which to operate ; and prevention, not cure, again became the leading question 
 
240 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 In addition to the regular Temperance Societies, the various orders of 
 Rechabites, Sons, and Daughters, and Cadets of Temperance, Templars, 
 Good Samaritans, etc., arose and spread over the United States and British 
 America. The most numerous of these was the order of Sons. In 1850, 
 they had thirty-five grand divisions, five thousand eight hundred and ninety- 
 four subordinate divisions, and about three hundred thousand members. 
 The order was elective, and had secret pass- words for admittance to the:r 
 meetings. Weekly payments were required of the members, which gave 
 abundant means for the erection of halls, and for the relief of distress. Its 
 Fourth National Jubilee, or meeting of the National Division, held at 
 Boston, June 11, 1850, was attended by thousands, from various States of 
 the Union, clothed in their regalia, and forming a splendid pageant. The 
 Cadets of Temperance were a younger order of the Sons, who, at maturity, 
 were to pass into that order. They enlisted, on the principle of total absti 
 nence from intoxicating liquor, and also from tobacco, a large number of 
 lads throughout the country. 
 
 The year 1851 was signalized by the passage of the celebrated MAINE 
 LIQUOR LAW. From one extremity of the country to the other, the enact 
 ment of the law filled the public mind with amazement. That a State of 
 such magnitude, by an overwhelming vote of both branches of its legisla 
 ture, should expel a business so vast, affecting so many interests, and cut 
 ting off at once the indulgence of an appetite stronger, in a multitude ot 
 cases, than the appetite for food, seemed almost incredible. Distillers and 
 brewers, importers and venders, were panic struck ; yet none believed the 
 law could be enforced, or would remain more than a year upon the statute 
 book of the State. 
 
 For three years previously, the State of Maine had an entirely prohibitory 
 statute. No man could engage in the liquor trade without a liability to 
 pains and penalties. But in a thousand ways the law was evaded. Convic 
 tions were difficult. Prosecutions became infamous. With the liquor in 
 possession, the vender had the sympathy of men who wished for the indul 
 gence of appetite, and found no difficulty in making himself rich without 
 serious exposure. To the Hon. Neal Dow, a citizen of Portland, and long 
 an advocate of the Temperance enterprise, belongs the honor of proposing a 
 law which should not only forbid the traffic in spirituous and intoxicating 
 liquors as a beverage, but which should declare them, when offered for sale, 
 confiscated to the State, and consign them to destruction. 
 
 This famous law was comprised in sixteen sections. As a matter of 
 interest to the reader, we give in the language of an able writer the intent 
 of the law, and the grounds upon which it was defended. 
 
 " The grand feature of the Maine Law, consists in the fact, that it docs 
 not aim to regulate and limit the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
 liquors to be used as a beverage, but to PROHIBIT them altogether. It is> 
 not a regulating, but a prohibitory law ; and in this respect differs from the 
 License System. It makes the liquor business a crime, for which tht 
 offender is liable to be punished. It confiscates these liquors to the State 
 when kept for sale, and directs them to be destroyed. It outlaws them a? 
 an article of commerce within the limits of the State. Its aim is to break 
 down the traffic, and thus relieve the community from the terrible evilf 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 consequent upon its continuance. It does not make the sale unlawful, 
 when the article is to be used for medicinal or mechanical purposes ; but by 
 stringent provisions limits the sale to these uses, directing the appointment 
 of agents therefor, who are placed under bonds to conform strictly to the 
 provisions of the statute. Prohibition, exclusion, outlawry, and not protec 
 tion or regulation this, then, is the grand principle of the Maine Law, armed 
 with a sufficient number of minor provisions to give force and certainty to 
 the principle. Nearly all previous legislation had proceeded upon the 
 assumption that the traffic is an evil to be regulated, which is the theory of 
 the License System : this proceeds upon the assumption, that it is an evil to 
 be suppressed or removed altogether. It is the " summit-level of entire pro 
 hibition." 
 
 The principle of the Maine Law is the only one adapted to the result. 
 Theoretically the question is a very simple one. Intemperance and its evils 
 depend on two causes the supply of intoxicating beverage, and the con 
 sumption. Eemove either, and the vice is dead. There is a difficulty in 
 directly attacking the consumption by law, in saying to a man under the 
 solemnity of a statute, that he shall not make use of alcoholic beverage. 
 This would be a kind of sumptuary legislation, likely to defeat itself, im 
 practicable in its operation, and at war with those notions of personal liberty, 
 which are so thoroughly rooted in the American mind. Hence if the arm 
 of law is to be interposed at all, it must operate upon the SUPPLY ; and this 
 is the direction of all the legislation that has ever been attempted on the 
 subject. The supply is the only point where law can make its agency 
 felt. 
 
 In respect, then, to the supply, you may take one of three grounds. The 
 first is to have no law on the subject, leaving every man to manufacture or 
 sell as much as he pleases, to conduct the liquor business just as he does any 
 other, that is neither regulated nor restrained by law. Upon its face this is 
 no remedy for the evil : it simply does nothing, and leaves the whole matter 
 to the instincts of profit and appetite. A man may advocate this ground ; 
 yet he will not be so absurd as to call it a remedy. 
 
 The second ground is that of regulation, which is the license system in its 
 different phases. This system admits that the traffic is an evil too serious 
 to be open to all, and that it must, therefore, be limited to a few persons, 
 licensed by law to conduct it, and protected by law in doing so. Now it is 
 a sufficient objection to this system, to say, that, in practical effect, it is, ever 
 has been, and always must be, a failure. It has been tried in various forms, 
 and for a long series of years ; and this has been the uniform result. It 
 never did, and never can reach the evil, as the most abundant facts conclu 
 sively show. Though it professedly undertakes to limit the number of the 
 suppliers, it does not limit the supply : this keeps pace with the demand, 
 and by generating an appetite, creates and increases that demand. It is the 
 sober truth, that under every form of the license system, there has always 
 been liquor enough in market to supply all the drinkers who want it, and 
 can pay for it. The system therefore amounts to nothing as a remedy : it 
 creates a monopoly to do a bad business, on the pretense of limiting it, without 
 accomplishing this result. It protects, by legalizing, the evil it seeks to 
 curtail. Under it grogshops, especially in cities, are almost as thick as the 
 
242 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 locusts of Egyyt, at all times sufficient in number to keep the drinkers per 
 fectly supplied. 
 
 The third ground is that of the Maine Law ; and, as we have already 
 said, it is a total prohibition of the supply, except when the article is to be 
 used for medicinal or mechanical purposes. Its penalties, in the way of 
 fines, confiscation and imprisonment, are intended to be sufficiently search 
 ing and severe to carry this point. It is a thorough, radical, and stringent 
 effort to destroy the liquor-traffic, and in this way, dry up the fountain 
 whence issue the desolating streams of intemperance. It proposes no terms 
 with the business ; it makes no compromise with it : its deliberate and un 
 disguised aim is destruction, and not regulation or toleration. 
 
 Now, it must be evident to every reflecting mind, that this kind of legis 
 lation, if we have any, is of the right sort. It is adapted, as no other has 
 been, and as no other can be, to do the work so far as law can do it at all. 
 If you want to have intemperance tolerated and continued, then the license 
 system will answer the purpose : but if you wish to banish the vice by 
 removing its means, then the Maine Law, or some other or>e of similar 
 aim and stringency, must be the instrument. You cannot reach the 
 result without the use of law : neither can you do so by any system of 
 legislation that falls short of this mark. If we have a legal remedy, we 
 must have one that will do the work : and this feature is the glory of the 
 Maine Law. 
 
 The principle of the Maine Law, is a perfectly legitimate exercise of the 
 powers that belong to civil society. By this we mean that every State iu 
 this confederac} is fully competent to enact such a law : it comes within the 
 province of what is called the police power of the State. 
 
 The general doctrine which lies at the foundation of the powers claimed 
 and exercised by the Maine Law, is this : Society has a right to exist, and 
 to protect itself against whatever is adapted seriously to harm or destroy it. 
 It has the right to consult its own welfare, and use the requisite means. 
 The individual living in its bosom, and enjoying its protection, is not so free 
 that he may do. what he pleases, make any use of his property which he 
 pleases, without reference to the effects upon others. The late Professor 
 Stuart very properly observes : "Every society of men, united to protect 
 each other s rights, and to secure the peace, and safety, and happiness of the 
 whole, have the right to do what is necessary to accomplish these ends. It 
 is the common law of our nature, and of all the nations of men. Who 
 oven questions the principle, whether a community has a right to abate a 
 nuisance ? Of course it is their right, and duty, too, to judge and determine 
 what is a nuisance. What has Maine done more than this?" This is 
 gound doctrine. 
 
 This doctrine, moreover, was most fully affirmed by the justices of the 
 Supreme Court of the United States, when giving their decision in a suit 
 brought to test the constitutionality of certain prahibitory laws passed by 
 Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire. Chief Justice Taney 
 held the following language : " If any State deems the retail and internal 
 traffic in ardent spirits injurious to its fcitizens, and calculated to produce 
 idleness, vice or debauchery, I see nothing in the Constitution of the United 
 States to prevent it from regulating or restraining the traffic, or from pro 
 
OF AMERICANS. 243 
 
 nibiting it altogether, if it thinks proper." With this opinion the other 
 justices of the court fully concurred. 
 
 Let it be distinctly observed also, that the principle of the Maine Law 
 claims no greater power than has always been conceded and assumed in tho 
 License System. This system says to the many, that they shall not engage 
 in the liquor-traffic ; while, at the same time, for a paltry tax, it grants the 
 privilege to ih&few. Now. clearly, if the State has power to prohibit the 
 traffic in respect to one half or nine tenths of her citizens, she has equal 
 power to prohibit it in respect to all ; if she may make the business un 
 lawful, except when licensed, if she may confer the right to sell, then she 
 may withhold that license, and make the traffic unlawful to all her citizens ; 
 and whether she shall do the one or the other, is not a question of power, 
 but of expediency and duty. Hence, as you perceive, the Maine Law does 
 not claim or exercise any new power on the part of the State. 
 
 But it may be said, that this law confiscates and destroys private property 
 when kept and used contrary to the provisions of the statute. This is true. 
 Remember, however, that this is part of the penalty for the crime of such 
 keeping and using, and, of course, affects none but the man who breaks the 
 law. If he were a law-abiding citizen, the penalty would not harm the hair 
 of his head. Those who lose their property by seizure and confiscation, are 
 those, and those only, who use it unlawfully. The tools and implements 
 of a counterfeiter are seized and destroyed, being forfeited by their unlawful 
 use. The fact that the confiscated property is not put into the public 
 treasury, but destroyed by the State, does not in the slightest degree enhance 
 the pecuniary damage of the individual. He simply loses it, as a penalty 
 inflicted for violating the law of the land. 
 
 In the light of this reasoning, the principle of the Maine Law is a per 
 fectly legitimate exercise of the powers belonging to civil society. It under 
 takes to abate and remove a nuisance ; and this is my answer to the objec 
 tion that it interferes with the property rights of the individual. He has no- 
 right to create or perpetuate a nuisance. 
 
 The principle of the Maine Law ought to be put in action by every civil 
 community that is burdened and cursed with the liquor-traffic. We have 
 stated its end the thing which it aims to do : we have also shown that it 
 is the only system adapted to this end : we have farther considered the 
 powers of civil society to do such a work. Now we take the ground that it 
 is the duty of society thus to act. The body politic has duties to perform, 
 as well as rights to exercise. Look at this point a moment. 
 
 Civil society established, and operating through government as its agent, 
 is a moral person, legitimately the subject of duty, and bound by its obliga 
 tion. This is a fundamental axiom of political ethics ; and it certainly is a 
 Christian principle. The State can do wrong : the State is bound to do 
 right : the principles of morality for the State and the individual are the 
 same. The Sta te is morally bound to provide for its own welfare to con 
 duct over all its citizens an impartial and wholesome legislation to enact and 
 execute such laws as are adapted to promote the virtue, happjress, arid 
 general thrift of the whole community.; while, at the same time, they ought 
 not to be tyrannical and oppressive toward any class. The State exists, not 
 for a monopoly of benefits, but for the general good not to license crime, 
 16 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 or patronize public evils, but to exert its legitimate powers for their sup 
 pression. 
 
 We have, in this country, a great and towering evil, in the manufacture 
 ai:d sale of intoxicating liquors an evil which, though profitable to the few, 
 is nevertheless working untold mischief to the many. It burdens the land 
 \vith taxation, pauperism, and crime, impairing all the interests of the body 
 politic, and really profitable to none. This is not fancy, but fact : the statis 
 tics and testimony have often been gathered, and they are such as no honest 
 and impartial mind can reject. We know in this age, as our fathers did 
 not so well know, what are the consequences of the liquor business. Take 
 a single statement. " President Everett computes, that the use of alcoholic 
 beverages has cost the United States directly, in ten years, $1,200,000,000 ; 
 has burned, or otherwise destroyed, $5,000,000 more of property ; has 
 destroj ed three hundred thousand lives ; sent one hundred and fifty thou 
 sand to our prisons, and one hundred thousand children to the poor-houses ; 
 caused one thousand five hundred murders, two thousand suicides, and has 
 bequeathed to the country one million of orphan children." Call this 
 exaggeration if you choose ; yet no man, with his eyes half open, having a 
 sound head and an honest heart, will deny the enormous extent of the evil 
 incident to the liquor- traffic, fostered by it, and growing out of it. 
 
 What, then, is the duty of civil society ? Was there ever a case that 
 called more loudly for effectual legislation ? Shall government suppress 
 lotteries, gambling, and counterfeiting ; outlaw mad-dogs, and abate nui 
 sances ; establish and execute quarantine laws for the public health ; and yet 
 leave alcohol to run at large ? Shall it prohibit minor evils, and yet be in 
 different to the greater one ? Shall it forsake the line of duty just when 
 the argument becomes most powerful, and the plea for action, loudest ? 
 Shall it fold its arms in such premises ? Then, it will not perform its duty 
 to God or -man. If there be any case for legal interposition,, this is such a 
 case. 
 
 But it may be said, this is a moral question, and ought to be left to moral 
 suasion. So is gambling a moral question. Will you leave that to mo ral 
 suasion ? Counterfeiting is a moral question. Will you trust it to a dis 
 pensation of argument, merely ? Murder is a moral question : and will you 
 leave this to the mere force of argument ? Indeed, every use of property, 
 in some aspects, involves a moral question. Shall society, therefore, with 
 hold all laws in respect to property ? 
 
 It may be farther objected, that although society ought to do something, 
 it ought not to use a remedy of so much severity as the Maine Law. This 
 depends altogether upon a question of fact. If I could cure a disease with 
 rose-water, I certainly would not use caustic : but I would use caustic rather 
 than let the patient die. So in this case : if it be the purpose of the society 
 to break up the liquor-traffic, on account of its evils, and to employ the arm 
 of law for this end, then you must have law enough to do the work. 
 
 If the preceding arguments are not based on truth, then an American com 
 munity has no legal power to prohibit any business that is, as a whole, in 
 jurious to it. Take this to be so, that they cannot legally help themselves, 
 then the extent of the injury don t affect the principle involved, although 
 that extent may reach the point, where one quarter of a community are 
 
OF AMERICANS. 245 
 
 sent by it into premature graves ; another quarter rendered insane ; another 
 quarter made beggars and criminals ; and the remaining quarter, taxed to 
 their last dollar to meet thvj expenses of confining the insane, supporting the 
 paupers, and in bringing the thieves and murderers to justice. 
 
 The Maine Law went into operation on the 4th of July, 1851. " It soon 
 became the settled policy of the State, and was cheerfully acquiesced in by 
 a large majority of Lhe citizens. Its results surpassed expectation in dimin 
 ishing pauperism and ciime, and increasing the comfort and prosperity of 
 unnumbered families. \Vith the exception of Portland, the law was as 
 well enforced in the large towns and cities, as in the rural districts. To 
 secure its more proper oUwrvance, the Hon. Neal Dow was once more 
 elevated to the mayoralty of Portland, and new and more stringent sections 
 were added to the law. To create disaffection and disturbance, an attack 
 was made at midnight hour, upon a quantity of liquor in possession of the 
 municipal authorities, and, in their prompt and vigorous defense, a man was 
 killed. It was as fire to powder amid all the disaffected classes. Accord 
 ingly the ensuing election, in September, 1855, for State officers, was ono 
 without parallel for fierceness ; and though the Temperance vote was fifty 
 thousand, ten thousand stronger than in 1854, yet the combinations were 
 greater, and by it an opposition legislature and opposition governor were 
 elected ; and the Maine Law, after a fair trial of five years, was overthrown, 
 and a license law, promising unusual strictness, placed in its stead. But it 
 was a license law. It permitted, under State authority, the re-introduction 
 of the traffic into the State. The prohibitory clauses were but little regarded, 
 even by the civil authorities, and, as an inevitable consequence, the State 
 became at once flooded with liquor. Cities, towns, and villages were filled 
 with open rum-shops of every grade. Drunkenness, rows, crimes, again 
 ppeared, with a frightful increase. The people were alarmed. Wives 
 were distressed for their husbands parents for their children. The philan 
 thropist, patriot, and Christian, sprang to the rescue ; and, in the elections of 
 September, 1856, though in connection with other great and most exciting 
 national issues, the prohibitory ticket again succeeded, with a clear majority 
 for governor of over fifteen thousand votes, and a legislature was returned 
 of almost entire Maine Law men. The triumph was astounding and over 
 whelming to the liquor interest." From motives of policy, no action was 
 taken to restore the law, until the year 1858, when the people of the State, 
 by a direct vote, nearly unanimously adopted a Prohibitory law, substantially 
 like that of 1851, in preference to a License law. 
 
 Laws on the principle of the Maine I^avv, have with varying results, been 
 adopted in several States. While public opinion is strong enough to enact 
 such, the moral force to sustain them is usually wanting. The public move 
 only under the smart of a wrong, and when that is past, all is forgotten until 
 the forces of evil rally and scourge anew. 
 
 The liquor interest never sleeps. Millions upon millions are invested in 
 it. On the passage of a stringent law in opposition, the many thousands 
 who live by the business, combine to wage an unrelenting war ; to render 
 void its provisions, and to bring it into popular odium, that they may again 
 open the sluices and wax fat to the injury of a forgetful, forgiving, and pre 
 
246 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 occupied public. It is with society as with the individual : the forces of evil 
 sue ever in conflict with the forces of virtue. And in viewing how much 
 has been accomplished by society in this reform, we have faith that the 
 future will measure a like degree of progress. 
 
 One point remains to be touched upon in this article the adulteration 
 of liquors. This is now carried on to such a vast extent, that the intelli 
 gent physician hesitates to prescribe alcoholic liquors, even in the most ur 
 gent cases, for external or internal application, from the uncertainty of 
 procuring anything but a poisonous imitation. 
 
 An old revolutionary soldier, whom we knew "as a boy knows a man," 
 thus called out one day to his daughter : " Hannah ! what is this delirium 
 tremens I hear folks talk about so much ? When I was a young man no 
 body had the delirium tremens." Old Captain B y was right, for he it 
 
 was that so spake. Delirium tremens, or mania-a-potu, in those days was 
 scarcely known. The common alcoholic drinks of that time, New England 
 and Jamaica rum, Monongahela and Bourbon whisky, were pure, and people 
 who did restrain themselves to " moderation," not unfrequently attained to the 
 age of eighty or ninety years. Now-a-days, the drinking men die in a very 
 few years, and often a single debauch with a man ordinarily temperate, 
 brings on the delirium tremens, and then death. Such are the murderous 
 effects of the terrible poisons now used by the manufacturers of liquors. 
 Not only are nearly all foreign liquors of our time either imitations or 
 adulterations, but it is the same with what purports to be our own made 
 whisky and rum. It was thought that the native wines, from the grape of 
 our soil, and the lager beer of our German citizens, would furnish a stimu 
 lus, that, by their comparatively innocuous qualities, would give an escape 
 for the great mass of these evils. This hope seems liable to be frustrated, 
 for even much of what is called " native wine " contains not a particle of 
 anything so harmless as the juice of the grape ; and most horrible cases of 
 delirium tremens, ending in the death of the wretched victims if we may 
 credit the public prints of the day have occurred from drinking what pur 
 ported to be "lager beer." 
 
 The poisonous articles mostly used by the manufacturers of liquors are, 
 strychnine, cocculus indicus, opium, tobacco, henbane, potash, nitric acid, 
 prussic acid, oil of vitriol, etc. Some years since, Dr. Woodward, of Wor 
 cester, Mass., published an account of his visiting a man who had broken 
 his leg, and when he had set it, he asked if they had any rum in the house. 
 They brought him some, with which he wet the bandages ; but two days 
 afterward, he was alarmed when he found the heads of the pins, which he 
 used in binding it up, were corroded, and on examining the rum which was 
 used, he found it contained a large portion of oil of vitriol ! 
 
 Poisonous flavorings of various kinds, put up in packages of five, ten, and 
 forty gallons, requiring only the addition of pure spirits to make every kind 
 of drink which the debased taste of the community may require, are now 
 publicly advertised in our newspapers. We annex some facts on adulte 
 ration, taken from reliable sources : " Brandy is almost universally a 
 base adulteration. The imported article, as a general fact, is adulte 
 rated. The profit is so enormous, that the dealers cannot withstand the 
 temptation to adulterate. Aqua fortis is the acid used in the preparation of 
 
OF AMERICANS. 247 
 
 counterfeit brandy : when combined with rectified spirits it imparts to it a 
 brandy-like flavor. Potash, ashes, oil of vitriol, are used to give proof. 
 
 To prepare and sweeten gin, etc., oil of vitriol, oil of almonds, oil of tur 
 pentine, oil of juniper berries, lime water, alum, salt of tartar, subacetate oi 
 lead, are used. Sulphate of lead is poisonous, and the use of it is frequent, 
 because its action is more rapid ; and it imparts to the liquor a fine com 
 plexion ; hence some \estiges of lead may often be detected in malt liquor. 
 As with brandy and gin, so with rum. If whisky will sell for more money 
 under the name of rum than under the name of whisky, it is as easy to turn 
 whisky into rum as into brandy, gin, or wine. 
 
 We now come to wine. Here the fabricators make their greatest profits, 
 exercise their greatest skill, and probably do the greatest amount of injury. 
 Unadulterated wine, according to its name and quality, must command a 
 certain price, to make it worth dealing in. The fabricator s ingenuity is put 
 to the greatest trial, to produce an article resembling the pure, so as to 
 obtain, as near as possible, the price of pure ; and, as it is impossible to dis 
 tinguish the pure from impure ; and as the impure can be made at one tenth 
 to one quarter of the value of the pure, the impure, as a natural conse 
 quence, takes the place of the pure, the same as the bogus dollar would take 
 trie place of the pure silver dollar, provided it was settled by common con- 
 Bent a dollar was a dollar, whether bogus or not. 
 
 Says Dr. Noli : I had a friend, who had been once a wine dealer, and 
 having read the startling statements made public, in relation to the brewing 
 of wines, and the adulterations of other liquors, generally, I inquired of that 
 friend as to the verity" of those statements. His reply was, God forgive 
 what has passed in my own cellar, but the statements made are true, and nil 
 true I assure you. " 
 
 The process of adulteration is carried on in wine countries, as well as in 
 this country with regard to Madeira, Sherry, Claret, and all other kinds of 
 wine. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Baird has stated, "that little or no wine is drank in France 
 in a pure state, except it may be at the wine press. The dealers purchase 
 it at the vineyards in a pure state, but in their hands it is entirely changed, 
 by adding drugs or distilled spirit." 
 
 Says Horatio Greenough, the eminent sculptor, " that although wine can 
 be had in Florence at one cent a bottle, the dealers do not hesitate to add 
 drugs and water, to gain a fraction more of profit." 
 
 Champaign : A man who once worked in the office where this is printed, 
 is now engaged in making champaign, for the ladies and gentlemen of the 
 country, at a cost to him of two dollars the dozen. Some cider or whisky, 
 some water, some fixed air, some sugar of lead, etc., form the compound. 
 When this fabricated mixture circulates in the country, it is generally sold 
 as pure, and our young men often quaff it, at two dollars the bottle, and an 
 advance on the original cost of only one thousand one hundred per cent ! 
 
 A physician in New York purchased a bottle of what was called genuin 
 champaign, of the importers, had it subjected to chemical tests ; it was founu 
 to contain a quarter of an ounce of sugar of lead. Who would like to drink 
 a mixture of sugar of lead and water ? 
 
 A gentleman in New York, who made champaign, purchased somo, of th 
 
24:8 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 regular importer, wishing to give his friends some of the genuine article: 
 At a convivial party, he produced his pure as imported; when the corks 
 began to fly, one dropped near him ; on examining it, he found it was his 
 own fabrication. The supposed importer had purchased it, and, by his 
 French tinsel and French labels, sold it back, as pure, to the original fabri 
 cator biting the liter. 
 
 Port : An Episcopal clergyman, recently returned from the continent cf 
 Europe, visited an immense manufactory of all kinds of wine. Logwood 
 came in as a great ingredient so great, that the proprietors kept a vessel in 
 their employ for its importation. 
 
 The dyers in Manchester, England, say, "the wine brewers are running 
 away with all the best logwood ; " and tho London people say, "If you wish 
 to get genuine Port, you must go yourself to Oporto, make your own wine, 
 and ride outside of the barrel all the way home." 
 
 In the manufacture of beer, nux vomica and cocculus indicus, are extensively 
 used. Nux vomica is the substance which forms the poison in the upas 
 tree ; and is so bitter, that one grain deposited in eighty pounds of water, 
 produces a bitter solution. Cocculus indicus is a poison, of which ten grains 
 will kill a dog.* 
 
 In fine, it is believed by those who are competent judges, that there is 
 scarcely a drop of intoxicating liquors, whether brandy, gin, rum, whisky, 
 wine or beer, sold or drank in this country, which is not adulterated or 
 drugged. Could the real truth be known upon this subject, it is evident 
 that, with the exception of those already within the deadly embrace of the 
 syren of intemperance, the whole community would at once and forever 
 abandon th.e use of intoxicating drinks." 
 
 The Temperance Reformation is the most surprising of all American 
 achievements. To see the mass of a nation rise, investigate, and then con 
 quer an evil habit interwoven with all their customs, and cherished by all 
 their prejudices, is a moral spectacle never before witnessed since the founda 
 tion of the world. A view of what has been accomplished within the 
 memory of even the middle aged, is given in these contrasted columns. 
 
 THEN. NOW. 
 
 Then, nearly every family in the Now, the family which has intoxi- 
 land had intoxicating drinks on their eating drinks on the table and side- 
 table and sideboard. board, is an exception to the general 
 
 rule. 
 
 Then, the farms in the land were Now, not one farm in a hundred is 
 worked with spirits. worked with spirits. 
 
 Then, intoxicating liquors were Now, intoxicating drinks are sol- 
 brought into all workshops. dom brought into a workshop. 
 
 The reader who may wish to pursue this subject iu. full, is referred to Hunt s " Frauds 
 iu the Liquor Traffic, elicited aud proved from the Standard Receipt Books and Guides 
 of Viiituers, Distillers, and Brewers." It not only proves the frauds beyond all cavU 
 but shows the deadly nature of the ingredients used. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 249 
 
 Then, all the merchant vessels Now, no merchant vessels supply 
 
 were supplied with spirit-rations for spirit- rations to the sailors, 
 the sailors. 
 
 Then, spirituous liquors were al- Now, spirituous liquors are seldom 
 
 ways brought on at weddings and brought on at weddings, and never at 
 
 funerals. funerals. 
 
 Then, the Temperance Reforrna- Now, no public press has the te- 
 
 tion was ridiculed by the press. merity to ridicule the Temperance 
 
 Reformation. 
 
 Then, everybody daily drank in 
 toxicating liquors as a beverage, and 
 it was regarded as a necessary of life, 
 and perfectly proper. 
 
 Then, in every village were ruin 
 ous, dilapidated houses, with broken 
 windows, and all the marks of neg 
 lect and decay ; the homes of miser 
 able drunkards, and their wretched 
 families. 
 
 Now, comparatively few daily 
 drink intoxicating liquors as a bev 
 erage, and those who do so, are re 
 garded as in danger of filling the 
 drunkard s grave. 
 
 Now, in every village, in place of 
 the miserable homes of drunkards, 
 are the neat, thrifty dwellings of 
 happy families. 
 
 Then, the retailing of ardent spirits Now, the retailing of ardent spirits 
 
 was considered a respectable occupa- is considered the vilest of occupations, 
 
 tion, and good men were engaged and how good are the men engaged 
 
 in it, in it, let the reader judge. 
 
 Then, the father, often ere his Now, the father who should put 
 
 little innocents could well lisp, put the bottle to the lips of his little 
 
 the bottle to their lips and taught child, to form the appetite for liquor, 
 
 them to love the drunkard s drink, would be regarded with horror. 
 
 Then, the young man who daily Now, the young man who daily 
 visited the grogshop, was none the visits the grogshop, would be wel- 
 less welcomed by a prudent father to corned by a prudent father to the 
 the hospitality of his family. hospitality of his family, as soon as 
 
 he would take a viper to his besom. 
 
 We close this article with an extract from an eloquent address, by the 
 Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon, upon the progress of the Temperance Idea. 
 
 " The most interesting aspect in which the Temperance Reformation pre 
 sents itself to my mind is, as an illustration of the slow but sure and certain 
 progress of one idea of a simple, but great and just idea. That idea, when 
 it was first announced, was announced in its legitimate connection witn 
 Christianity it came from the bosom of the Church of God it came from 
 the head of Christianity. It was argued and proved with texts from the 
 gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the epistles of the Apostles. We 
 wondered, those of us who composed it at that early period wondered that 
 
250 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 there should be so much resistance to it, and we ascribed it to tne power of 
 selfishness for we saw in every direction, great interests great commercia 
 ambition, and powerful political interests united against the progress of this 
 idea. And yet, I apprehend, we ascribed too much of this resistance to the 
 power of selfishness and interest. We ought to have remembered more dis 
 tinctly prehaps that great ideas, simple and commanding as they are, make 
 but too slow progress to dominion over the minds of nations and individuals. 
 
 You may convince an individual of the truth of an idea in conversation 
 with him alone, but he does not stay convinced ; the sympathy between his 
 mind and that of the vast multitude is too strong, and it is with your argu 
 ment, as it fared with Cato, when he read " Plato on the Immortality of the 
 Soul," he was convinced and believed ; but when he had shut the book, he 
 could not remember the force of reasoning in the argument ; it is therefore 
 in this way on this principle that truth, simple and commanding as it 
 may be, makes but slow progress toward dominion over communities and 
 nations. 
 
 Let us now look for a moment at the effects and results of the progress 
 of this idea. An idea to many people is a particular conformation of the 
 skull, an incomprehensible thing. An idea ! Why, they never saw it ! 
 How large is it? They want to put their fingers on it, or judge in some 
 such way as this. An idea is a spiritual substance simply, and they cannot 
 see it or feel it, unless it be of the nature of ardent spirits. An idea ! It s 
 an idea wrought out and applied, that has brought the continent of Europe 
 within twelve days distance of the continent of America ; it was the idea 
 of steam navigation. 
 
 It was an idea in the mind of Fulton that created the first steamboat that 
 plied the North River. This same idea changes the face of nature. Any 
 man who is familiar with the landscape, in any part of the country, for the 
 last twenty years, certainly any one familiar with New England, knows that 
 it has wrought great changes upon the fair face of the country, for everyone 
 is remarking upon the increased beauty of the New England landscape. 
 
 The neatness and simplicity of the farm-house strike the eye of the 
 traveler as he passes by there is more beauty in the fields, the very grass 
 grows greener and richer than twenty years ago ; and the windows of the 
 pretty cottages are festooned with plants and flowers that shed their sweet 
 fragrance around the dwelling. What is the ca.use of it ? Cold water it 
 is this that has thrown off from the shoulders of the farmer, and the laborer 
 a prodigious taxation he was wont to pay 
 
 Oh ! how will the land smile when this idea shall have wrought all its 
 triumphs ; from the farthest north and east, over all those broad and waving 
 prairies, even beyond the Rocky Mountains, to where the streams of the 
 west mingle with the ocean. 
 
 And when this idea, the emanation of Christianity, proceeding from the 
 Church of God, shall have reformed the people, how will Christianity itself 
 regenerate this reformed and happy people ! a reformed and happy world ! 
 God witt shower his blessings like rain upon the fruitful field." 
 
THE PRETENDED DESERTION 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN CHAMPE 
 
 TO THE BRITT.SH, IN THE WAR OP THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, FOR THE PURPOSE OF 
 
 CAPTURING THE TRAITOR, BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 JOHN CHAMPE, Sergeant-Major of Lee s Legion of Virginia Light Horse, 
 in the Kevolutionary war, was selected to undertake a very perilous and 
 difficult project, which is thus well and fully narrated in " Lee s Memoirs :" 
 
 The treason of Brigadier Arnold, the capture of Andre, with intelli 
 gence received by Washington, through his confidential agents in New York, 
 communicating that many of his officers, and especially a major-general 
 named to him, were connected with Arnold, could not fail to seize the 
 attention of a commander even less diligent and zealous than Washington. 
 It engrossed his mind entirely, exciting reflections the most anxious as 
 well ns unpleasant. 
 
 To Major Lee, afterward lieutenant-colonel of the legion of cavalry for 
 whom he had sent, he said, " I have sent for you, in the expectation that 
 you have in your corps individuals capable and willing to undertake an 
 indispensable, delicate, and hazardous project. Whoever comes forward 
 upon this occasion, will lay me under great obligations personally, and in 
 behalf of the United States I will reward him amply. No- time is to bo 
 lost ; he must proceed, if possible, this night. My object is to probe to 
 the bottom the afflicting intelligence contained in the papers you have just 
 read ; to seize Arnold, and by getting him, to save Andre. They are all 
 connected. While my emissary is engaged in preparing means for tho 
 seizure of Arnold, the guilt of others can be traced ; and the timely de 
 livery of Arnold to me, will possibly put it into my power to restore the 
 amiable and unfortunate Andre to his friends. My instructions are ready, 
 in which you will find my express orders that Arnold is not to be hurt ; but 
 that he be permitted to escape if to be prevented only by killing him, as 
 his public punishment is the sole object in view. This you cannot too 
 forcibly press upon whomsoever may engage in the enterprise ; and this 
 fail not to do. With my instructions are tw r o letters, to be delivered as 
 ordered, and here are some guineas for expenses." 
 
 Major Lee replying, said that he had little or no doubt but that his legion 
 contained many individuals daring enough for any operation, however per- 
 .Uous ; but that the one in view required a combination of qualities no 
 
 (251) 
 
252 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 easily to be found unless in a commissioned officer, to whom he could not 
 venture to propose an enterprise, the first step to which was desertion. 
 That though the sergeant-major of the cavalry was in all respects qualified 
 for the delicate and adventurous project, and to him it might be proposed 
 without indelicacy, as his station did not interpose the obstacle before 
 stated ; yet it was very probable that the same difficulty would occur in his 
 breast, to remove which would not be easy, if practicable. 
 
 Washington was highly pleased at finding that a non-commissioned 
 officer was deemed capable of executing his views ; as he had felt extreme 
 difficulty in authorizing an invitation to officers, who generally are, and 
 always ought to be, scrupulous and nice in adhering to the course of honor. 
 lie asked the name, the country, the age, the size, length of service, and 
 character of the sergeant. Being told his name, that he was a native of 
 Loudon county, in Virginia; about twenty-three or twenty-four years of 
 age, that he had enlisted in 1776, rather above the common size, full 
 of bone and muscle ; with a saturnine countenance, grave, thoughtful, and 
 taciturn, of tried courage, and inflexible perseverance, and as likely to 
 reject an overture coupled with ignominy as any officer in the corps ; a com 
 mission being the goal of his long and anxious exertions, and certain on 
 the first vacancy ; the general exclaimed, that he was the very man for the 
 business ; that he must undertake it ; and that going to the enemy by the 
 instigation and at the request of his officer, was not desertion, although it 
 appeared to be so. And he enjoined that this explanation, as coming 
 from him, should be pressed on Champe ; and that the vast good in pros 
 pect should be contrasted with the mere semblance of doing wrong, which 
 lie presumed could not fail to conquer every scruple. Major Lee, sending 
 instantly for the sergeant-major, introduced the business in the way best 
 calculated, as he thought, to produce his concurrence. Observing that the 
 chance of detection became extremely narrow, and consequently that of 
 success enlarged. That by succeeding in the safe delivery of Arnold, he 
 not only gratified his general in the most acceptable manner, but he would 
 be hailed as the avenger of the reputation of the army, stained by foul and 
 wicked perfidy ; and what could not but be highly pleasing, he would be 
 the instrument of saving the life of Major Andre, soon to be brought before 
 a court of inquiry, the decision of which could not be doubted, from the 
 universally known circumstances of the case, and had been anticipated in 
 the general s instructions. That, by investigating with diligence and accu 
 racy the intelligence communicated to him, he would bring to light new 
 guilt, or he would relieve innocence (as was most probable) from distrust ; 
 quieting the torturing suspicions which now harrowed the mind of Wash 
 ington, and restoring again to his confidence a once honored general, possess 
 ing it at present only ostensibly, as well as hush doubts affecting many of 
 his brother soldiers. 
 
 This discourse was followed by a detail of the plan, with a wish that ho 
 would enter upon its execution instantly. Champe listened with deep at 
 tention, and with a^highly excited countenance; the perturbations of his 
 breast not being hid even by his dark visage. He briefly and modestly re 
 plied, that no soldier exceeded him in respect and affection for the com- 
 mandcr-in-chief, to serve whom he would willingly lay down his life ; and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 253 
 
 that he was sensible of the honor conferred by the choice of him for the 
 execution of a project all over arduous ; nor could ho be at a loss to know 
 to whom was to be ascribed the preference bestowed, which he took plea 
 sure in acknowledging, although increasing obligations before great and 
 many. He was not, he said, deterred by the danger and difficulty which 
 was evidently to be encountered, but he was deterred by the ignominy of 
 desertion, to be followed by the hypocrisy of enlisting with the enemy ; 
 neither of which comported with his feelings, and either placed an in 
 superable bar in his way to promotion. He concluded by observing, that if 
 any mode could be contrived free from disgrace, he would cordially embark 
 in the enterprise. As it was, he prayed to be excused ; and hoped that 
 services, always the best in his power to perform, faithfully performed, en 
 titled his prayer to success. 
 
 Major Lee entreated the sergeant to ask himself what must be the reflec 
 tions of his comrades, if a soldier from some other corps should execute 
 the attempt, when they should be told that the glory transferred to the regi 
 ment of which he was one, might have been enjoyed by the legion, had 
 not Sergeant Champe shrank from the overture made to him by his general 
 rather than reject scruples too narrow and confined to be permitted to inter 
 fere with grand and virtuous deeds. The esprit du corps could not be re 
 sisted ; united to his inclination, it subdued his prejudices, and he declared 
 his willingness to conform to the wishes of the general ; relying, as he con 
 fidently did, that his reputation would be protected by those who had in 
 duced him to undertake the enterprise, should he be unfortunate. The in 
 structions were read to him, and each distinct object presented plainly to 
 his view, of which he took notes so disguised as to be understood only by 
 himself. He was particularly cautioned to use the utmost circumspection 
 ; n delivering his letters, and to take care to withhold from the two indi 
 viduals, addressed under feigned names, knowledge of each other ; for al 
 though both had long been in the confidence of the general, yet it was not 
 known by either that the other was so engaged. He was further urged, to 
 bear in constant recollection the solemn injunction so pointedly expressed 
 in the instructions to Major Lee, of forbearing to kill Arnold in any con 
 dition of things. 
 
 This part of the business being finished, their deliberation was turned to 
 the manner of Champe s desertion ; for it was well known to them both 
 that to pass the numerous patrols of horse and foot crossing from the sta 
 tionary guards, was itself difficult, which was now rendered more so by 
 parties thrown occasionally beyond the place called Liberty Pole, as well as 
 by swarms of irregulars, induced sometimes to venture down to the very 
 point at Powles-Hook, with the hope of picking up booty. Evidently dis 
 cernible as were the difficulties in the way, no relief could be administered 
 by Major Lee, lest it might induce a belief that he was privy to the deser 
 tion, which opinion getting to the enemy would involve the life of Champe. 
 The sergeant was left to his own resources and to his own management, 
 with the declared determination, that in case his departure should be dis 
 covered before morning, Lee would take care to delay pursuit as long as 
 practicable. 
 
 Giving to the sergeant three guineas, and presenting his best wishes, he 
 
254 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 recommended him to start without delay, and enjoined him to communi 
 cate his arrival iu New York as soon as he could. Champe pulling out hia 
 watch, compared it with the major s, reminding the latter of the impor 
 tance of holding back pursuit, which he was convinced would take place 
 in the course of the night, and which might be fatal, as he knew that ha 
 shoul: be obliged to zigzag in order to avoid the patrols, which would 
 consume time. It was now nearly eleven. The sergeant returned to camp 
 and taking his cloak, valise and orderly book, he drew his horse from the 
 picket, and mounting him put himself upon fortune. 
 
 Within half an hour Captain Games, officer of the day, waited upon the 
 major, and with considerable emotion told him that one of the patrol had 
 fallen in with a dragoon, who, being challenged, put spur to his horse and 
 escaped, though instantly pursued. Lee, complaining of the interruption, 
 and pretending to be extremely fatigued by his ride to and from head 
 quarters, answered as if he did not understand what had been said, which 
 compelled the captain to repeat it. Who can the fellow that was pursued 
 be ? inquired the major ; adding, a countryman, probably. No, replied the 
 captain, the patrol sufficiently distinguished him to know that he was 
 a dragoon ; probably one from the army, if not certainly one of our own. 
 This idea was ridiculed from its improbability, as during the whole war 
 but a single dragoon had deserted from the legion. This did not convince 
 Games, so much stress was it now the fashion to lay on the desertion of 
 Arnold, and the probable effect of his example. The captain withdrew to 
 examine the squadron of horse, whom he had ordered to assemble in pur 
 suance of established usage on similar occasions. Very quickly he returned, 
 stating that the scoundrel was known, and was no less a person than the- 
 sergeant-major, who had gone off with his horse, baggage, arms and orderly 
 book, as neither the one nor the other could be found. Sensibly affected 
 at the supposed baseness of a soldier extremely respected, the captain 
 added that he had ordered a party to make ready for pursuit, and begged 
 the major s written orders. 
 
 Occasionally this discourse was interrupted, and every idea suggested 
 which the excellent character of the sergeant warranted, to induce the sus 
 picion that he had not deserted, but had taken the liberty to leave camp 
 with a view to personal pleasure; an example, too often set by the officers 
 themselves, destructive as it was of discipline, opposed as it was to orders, 
 and disastrous as it might prove to the corps in the course of service. Some 
 little delay was thus interposed ; but it being now announced that the pur 
 suing party was ready, Major Lee directed a change in the officer, saying 
 that he had a particular service in view, which he had determined to in 
 trust to the lieutenant ready for duty, and which, probably, must be per 
 formed in the morning. He therefore directed him to summon Cornet 
 Middlcton for the present command. Major Lee was induced thus to act, 
 first to add to the delay, and next from his knowledge of the tenderness of 
 Middle-ton s disposition, which he hoped would lead to the protection of 
 Champe, should he be taken. Within ten minutes Middleton appeared to 
 receive his orders, which were delivered to him made out in the customary 
 form, and signed by the major. " Pursue so far as you can with safety Ser 
 geant Champe, who is suspected of deserting to the enemy, and has taker; 
 
OF AMERICANS. 255 
 
 the road leading to Powles-Hook. Bring him alive, that he may suffer in the 
 presence of the army; but kill him if he resists or escapes after being taken." 
 
 Detaining the cornet a few minutes longer in advising him what course 
 to pursue, urging him to take care of the horse and accoutrements, if re 
 covered, and enjoining him to be on his guard, lest he might, by his eager 
 pursuit, improvidently fall into the hands of the enemy, the major dis 
 missed Middleton, wishing him success. A shower of rain fell soon after 
 Champe s departure, which enabled the pursuing dragoons to take the trail 
 of his horse ; knowing, as officer and trooper did, the make of their shoes, 
 the impression of which, was an unerring guide. 
 
 The horses being all shod by our own farriers, the shoes were made in 
 the same form, which with a private mark annexed to the fore-shoes, and 
 known to the troopers, pointed out the trail of our dragoons to each other, 
 which was often very useful. 
 
 When Middleton departed it was a few minutes past twelve ; so that 
 Champe had only the start of rather more than an hour, by no means as 
 long as was desired. The pursuing party during the night, was, on their 
 part, delayed by the necessary halts to examine occasionally the road, as 
 the impression of the horse s shoes directed their course ; this was unfortu 
 nately too evident, no other horse having passed along the road since the 
 shower. When the day broke, Middleton was no longer forced to halt, and 
 he pressed on with rapidity. Ascending an eminence before he reached the 
 Throe Pigeons, some miles on the north of the village of Bergen, as the 
 pursuing party reached its summit, Champe was descried not more than 
 half a mile in front. Eesembling an Indian in his .vigilance, the sergeant at 
 the same moment discovered the party, to whose object he was no stranger, 
 and giving spur to his horse, he determined to outstrip his pursuers. Mid 
 dleton at the same instant put his horses to the top of their speed ; and 
 being, as the legion all were, well acquainted with the country, he recol 
 lected a short route through the woods to the bridge below Bergen, which 
 diverged from the great road just after you gain the Three Pigeons. Reach 
 ing the point of separation, he halted ; and dividing his party, directed a 
 sergeant with a few dragoons to take the near cut, and possess with all pos 
 sible dispatch the bridge, while he with the residue followed Champe ; not 
 doubting but that Champe must deliver himself up, as he would be closed 
 between himself and his sergeant. Champe did not forget the short cut, 
 and would have taken it himself, but he knew it was the usual route of 
 our parties when returning in the day from the neighborhood of the enemy, 
 properly preferring the woods to the road. He consequently avoided it ; 
 and persuaded that Middleton would avail himself of it, wisely resolved to 
 relinquish his intention of getting to Powles-Hook, and to seek refuge from 
 two British galleys, lying a few miles to the west of Bergen. 
 
 This was a station always occupied by one or two galleys, and, which 
 it was known now lay there. Entering the village of Bergen, Champe 
 turned to his right, and disguising his change of course as much as he could 
 by taking the beaten streets, turning as they turned, he passed through the 
 village and took the road toward Elizabethtown Point. Middletou s ser 
 geant gained the bridge, where he concealed himself, ready to pounce upon 
 Champe when he came up ; and Middleton pursuing his course through 
 
256 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Bergen, soon got also to the bridge, when, to his extreme mortification, he 
 found that the sergeant had slipped through his fingers. Returning up the 
 road, he inquired of the villagers of Bergen, whether a dragoon had been 
 seen that morning ahead of his party. He was answered in the affirmative, 
 but could learn nothing satisfactory as to the route he took. While en 
 gaged in inquiries himself, he spread his party through the village to strike 
 the trail of Champe s horse, a resort always recurred to. Some of his dra* 
 goons hit it just as the sergeant, leaving the village, got in the road to the 
 Point Pursuit was renewed with vigor, and again Champe was descried, 
 lie, apprehending the event, had prepared himself for it, by lashing his 
 valise (containing his clothes and orderly book) on his shoulders, and 
 holding his drawn sword in his hand, having thrown away the scabbard. 
 This he did to save what was indispensable to him, and to prevent any 
 interruption to his swimming, should Middleton, as he presumed, when dis 
 appointed at the bridge, take the measures adopted by him. The pursuit 
 was rapid and close, as the stop occasioned by the sergeant s preparations for 
 swimming had brought Middleton within two or three hundred yards. As 
 soon as Champe got abreast of the two galleys, he dismounted, and running 
 through the marsh to the river, plunged into it, calling upon the galleys for 
 help. This was readily given ; they fired upon our horse, and sent a boat 
 to meet Champe, who was taken in and carried on board and conveyed 
 to New York, with a letter from the captain of the galley, stating the cir 
 cumstances he had seen. 
 
 The horse with his equipments, the sergeants cloak and scaJbbard, were 
 recovered ; the sword itself being held by Champe until he plunged in the 
 river, was lost, as Middleton found it necessary to retire without searching 
 for it. About three o clock in the evening our party returned, and the sol 
 diers seeing the well known horse in our possession, made the air resound 
 with exclamations that the scoundrel was killed. Major Lee called by this 
 heart-rending annunciation from his tent, saw the sergeant s horse led by 
 one of Middleton s dragoons, and began to reproach himself with the blood 
 of the high prized, faithful and intrepid Champe. Stifling his agony he 
 advanced to meet Middleton, and became somewhat relieved as soon as 
 he got near enough to discern the countenance of his officer and party. 
 There was evidence in their looks of disappointment, and he was quickly 
 relieved by Middleton s information that the sergeant had effected his escape 
 with the loss of his horse, and narrated the particulars just recited. Never 
 was a happier conclusion. The sergeant escaped unhurt, carrying with him 
 tc the enemy undeniable testimony of the sincerity of his desertion, can 
 celing every apprehension before entertained, lest the enemy might suspect 
 him of being what he really was. Major Lee imparted to the commander- 
 in-chief the occurrence, who was sensibly affected by the hair-breadth escape 
 of Champe, and anticipated with pleasure the good effect sure to follow the 
 enemy s knowledge of its manner. On the fourth day after Champe s de 
 parture, Major Lee received a letter from him, written the day before in a 
 disguised hand, without any signature, and stating what had passed after 
 he got on board the galley, where he was kindly received. 
 
 He was carried to the commandant of New York as soon as he arrived, 
 and presented the letter addressed to this officer from the captain of the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 257 
 
 galley. Being asked to what corps he belonged, and a few other common 
 questions, he was sent under care of an orderly sergeant to the adjutant- 
 general, who, finding that he was sergeant-major of the legion horse, here 
 tofore remarkable for their fidelity, began to interrogate him. He was told 
 by Champe, that such was the spirit of defection, which prevailed among 
 the American troops in consequence of Arnold s example, that he had no 
 d^ubt, if the temper was properly cherished Washington s ranks would not 
 only be greatly thinned, but that some of his best corps would leave him. 
 To this conclusion, the sergeant said, he was led by his own observations, 
 and especially by his knowledge of the discontents which agitated the corps 
 to which he had belonged. His size, place of birth, form, countenance, 
 hair, the corps in which he had served, with other remarks, in conformity 
 to the British usage, was noted down. After this was finished, he was sent 
 to the commander-in-chief, in charge of one of the staff, with a letter from 
 the adjutant-general. Sir Henry Clinton treated him very kindly, and de 
 tained him more than one hour, asking him many questions, all leading, 
 first to know to what extent this spirit of defection might be pushed by 
 proper incitements, what the most operating incitements, whether any 
 general officers were suspected by Washington as concerned in Arnold s con 
 spiracy, or any other officers of note ; who they were, and whether the 
 troops approved or censured Washington s suspicions ; whether his popu 
 larity in the army was sinking, or continued stationary ? What was Major 
 Andre s situation, whether any change had taken place in the manner of 
 his confinement, what was the current opinion of his probable fate, and 
 whether it was thought Washington would treat him as a spy ? To these va 
 rious interrogations, some of which were perplexing, Champe answered wa 
 rily ; exciting, nevertheless, hopes that the adoption of proper measures to 
 encourage desertion (of which he could not pretend to form an opinion) 
 would certainly bring off hundreds of the American soldiers, including some 
 of the best troops, horse as well as foot. Respecting the fate of Andre, ho 
 said he was ignorant, though there appeared to be a general wish in the 
 army that his life should not be taken ; and that he believed it would de 
 pend more upon the disposition of Congress, than on the will of Wash 
 ington. 
 
 After this long conversation ended, Sir Henry presented Champe with a 
 couple of guineas, and recommended him to wait upon General Arnold, 
 who was engaged in raising an American legion in the service of his ma 
 jesty. He directed one of his aids to write to Arnold by Champe, stating 
 who he was, and what he said about the disposition in the army to follow 
 his example ; which being soon done, the letter was given to the orderly at 
 tending on Champe to be presented with the deserter to General Arnold. 
 Arnold expressed much satisfaction on hearing from Champe the manner of 
 his escape, and the effect of his [Arnold s] example ; and concluded his 
 numerous inquiries by assigning quarters to the sergeant, the same as wero 
 occupied by his recruiting sergeants. 
 
 He also proposed to Champe to join his legion, telling him he would give 
 him the same station he had held in the rebel service, and promising further 
 advancement when merited. Expressing his wish to retire from war, and 
 his conviction of the certainty of his being hung if ever taken by the 
 
258 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 *ebels, he begged to be excused from enlistment; assuring the genera), 
 that should he change his mind, he would certainly accept his offer. Re 
 tiring to his quarters Charnpe now turned his attention to the delivery of 
 his letters, which he could not effect until the next night, and then only to 
 one of the two incogniti to whom he was recommended. This man re- 
 eived the sergeant with extreme attention, and having read the letter, as- 
 ured Champe that he might rely on his faithful co-operation in everything 
 in his power consistent with his safety, to guard which required the utmost 
 prudence and circumspection. The sole object in which the aid of this 
 individual was required, regarded the general and others of our army, im 
 plicated in the information sent to Washington by him. To this object 
 Champe urged his attention ; assuring him of the solicitude it had excited, 
 and telling him that its speedy investigation had induced the general to 
 send him in to New York. Promising to enter upon it with zeal, and en 
 gaging to send out Champe s letters to Major Lee, he fixed the time and 
 place for their next meeting, when they separated. 
 
 Major Lee made known to the general what had been transmitted to him 
 by Champe, and received in answer directions to press Champe to the ex 
 peditious conclusion of his mission ; as the fate of Andre would be soon 
 decided, when little or no delay could be admitted in executing whatever 
 sentence the court might decree. The same messenger who brought 
 Champe s letter, returned with the ordered communication. Five days had 
 nearly elapsed after reaching New York, before Champe saw the confidant 
 to whom only the attempt against Arnold was to be intrusted. This per 
 son entered with promptitude into the design, promising his cordial assist 
 ance. To procure a proper associate for Champe was the first object, and 
 this ho promised to do with all possible dispatch. Furnishing a conveyance 
 to Major Lee, to whom Champe stated that he had that morning (the last 
 of September) been appointed one of Arnold s recruiting sergeants, having 
 enlisted the day before with Arnold ; and that he was induced to take this 
 afflicting step, for the purpose of securing uninterrupted ingress and egress 
 to the house which the general occupied ; it being indispensable to a speedy 
 conclusion of the difficult enterprise which the information he had just re 
 ceived had so forcibly urged. He added, that the difficulties in his way 
 were numerous and stubborn, and that his prospect of success was by no 
 means cheering. With respect to the additional treason, he asserted that 
 ho had every reason to believe that it was groundless ; that the report took 
 its rise in the enemy s camp, and that he hoped soon to clear up that mat 
 ter satisfactorily. The pleasure which the last part of this communication 
 afforded, was damped by the tidings it imparted respecting Arnold, as on 
 n\s speedy delivery depended Andre s relief. The interposition of Sir 
 Henry Clinton, who was extremely anxious to save his aid-de-camp, still 
 continued ; and it was expected the examination of witnesses and the de 
 fense of the prisoner, would protract the decision of the court of inquirv, 
 now assembled, and give sufficient time for the consummation of the project 
 committed to Champe. A complete disappointment took place from a 
 quarter unforeseen and unexpected. The honorable and accomplished 
 Andre, knowing his guilt, disdained defense, and prevented the examina 
 tion of witnesses by confessing the character in which he stood. On the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 259 
 
 next day (the 2d of October), the court again assembled ; when every doubt 
 that could possibly arise in the case having been removed by the previous 
 confession, Andre was declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer accord 
 ingly. The sentence was executed on the subsequent day in the usual 
 form, the commander-in-chief deeming it improper to interpose any delay. 
 The fate of Andre, hastened by himself, deprived the enterprise com 
 mitted to Champe of a feature which had been highly prized by its pro 
 jector, and which had very much engaged the heart of the individual 
 chosen to execute it. 
 
 Champe deplored the sad necessity which had occurred, and candidly con 
 fessed that the hope of enabling Washington to save the life of Andre, 
 (who had been the subject of universal commiseration in the American 
 camp), greatly contributed to remove the serious difficulties which opposed 
 his acceding to the proposition when first propounded. Some documents 
 accompanied this communication tending to prove the innocence of tho 
 accused general ; they were completely satisfactory, and did credit to the 
 discrimination, zeal, and diligence of the sergeant. Nothing remained to 
 be done, but the seizure and safe delivery of Arnold. To this subject 
 Champe gave his undivided attention. Ten days elapsed before Champe 
 brought his measures to a conclusion, when Major Lee received from him his 
 final communication, appointing the third subsequent night for a party of 
 dragoons to meet him at Iloboken, when he hoped to deliver Arnold to the 
 officer. Champe had from his enlistment into the American legion (Arnold s 
 corps) every opportunity he could wish, to attend to the habits of the general. 
 He discovered that it was his custom to return home about twelve every 
 night, and that previous to going to bed he always visited the garden. Dur 
 ing this visit the conspirators were to seize him, and being prepared with a 
 gag, intended to have applied the same instantly. 
 
 Adjoining the house in which Arnold resided, and that in .which it was 
 designed to seize and gag him, Champe had taken off several of the palings 
 and replaced them, so that with care and without noise he could readily 
 open his way to the adjoining alley. Into this alley he meant to have con 
 veyed his prisoner, aided by his companion, one of two associates who had 
 been introduced by the friend to whom Champe had been originally made 
 known by letter from the commander-in-chief, and with whose aid and 
 counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other associate was 
 with the boat prepared at one of the wharves on the Hudson River, to re 
 ceive the party. Champe and his friend intended to have placed them 
 selves each under Arnold s shoulder, and to have thus borne him through 
 the most unfrequented alleys and streets to the boat ; representing Arnold, 
 in case of being questioned, as a drunken soldier, whom they were con 
 veying to the guard-house. When arrived at the boat the difficulties would 
 be all surmounted, there being no danger nor obstacle in passing to the 
 Jersey shore. The day arrived, and Major Lee with a party of dragoons 
 left camp late in the evening, with three led horses : one for Arnold, o>ie for 
 the sergeant, and the third for the associate, never doubting the success of 
 the enterprise, from the tenor of the last received communication. The 
 party reached Hoboken about midnight, where they were concealed in the 
 adjoining woods Lee, with three dragoons, stationing himself near the 
 17 
 
260 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 river shore. Hour after hour passed, no boat approached. At length the 
 day broke and the major retired to his party, and with his led horses re 
 turned to camp, when he proceeded to head-quarters to inform the general 
 of the disappointment, as mortifying as inexplicable. 
 
 In a few days, Major Lee received an anonymous letter from Champe s 
 patron and friend, informing him that on the day previous to the night fixed 
 for the execution of the plot, Arnold had removed his quarters to anothe? 
 part of the town, to superintend the embarkation of troops, preparing (K 
 was rumored) for an expedition to be directed by himself; and that the 
 American legion, consisting chiefly of deserters, had been transferred from 
 their barracks to one of the transports ; it being apprehended that if left on 
 shore until the expedition was ready, many of them might desert. Thus 
 it happened that John Champe, instead of crossing the Hudson that night, 
 was safely deposited on board one of the fleet of transports, from whence 
 ho never departed until the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia. Nor 
 was he able to escape from the British army until after the junction of Lord 
 Cornwallis at Petersburgh, when he deserted ; and proceeding high up into 
 Virginia, he passed into North Carolina near the Saura Towns, and keep 
 ing in the friendly districts of that State, safely joined the army soon after 
 it had passed the Congaree in pursuit of Lord Bawd-on. 
 
 His appearance excited extreme surprise among his former comrades, 
 which was not a little increased when they saw the cordial reception he 
 met with from Lieutenant-Colonel Lee. His whole story soon became 
 known to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer and 
 soldier, heightened by universal admiration of his daring and arduous 
 attempt. 
 
 Champe was introduced to General Greene, who cheerfully complied with 
 the promises made by the commander-in-chief, as far as in his power ; and 
 having provided the sergeant with a good horse and money for his journey, 
 sent him to General Washington, who munificently anticipated every de 
 sire of the sergeant, and presented him with a discharge from further ser 
 vice, lest he might in the vicissitudes of war, fall into the enemy s hands ; 
 when, if recognized, he was sure to die on a gibbet. 
 
 When General Washington was called by President Adams to the com 
 mand of the army, prepared to defend the country from French hostility, 
 he sent to Lieutenant-Colonel Lee to inquire for Champe ; being determined 
 to bring him into the field at the head of a company of infantry. Colonel 
 Lee sent to London county, Virginia, where Champe settled after his dis 
 charge from the army, but learned that the gallant soldier had removed to 
 Kentucky, where he soon after died. 
 
NARRATIVE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LAND AND SEA PEEILS 
 
 OF 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNE, 
 
 IN THE WAR OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, INCLUDING HIS SUFFERINGS IN OLD MILi, 
 PRISON, ENGLAND, AND AFTERWARD IN THE OLD JERSEY PRISON SHIP AT THE 
 WALLABOUT, BROOKLYN, NEW YORK. WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK BY ANDREW 
 DICKINSON. 
 
 ANDREW SHERBURNE was born at Rye, once a part of Portsmouth, New 
 Hampshire, September 30, 1765. He describes his childhood as dotted 
 over with misfortunes. He was about twelve years old, at that period of 
 our revolutionary history, when the American spirit was fully developed by 
 the battles of Bunker Hill and Lexington. He caught the spirit of the 
 times ; yet he owns that he was influenced, at first, more by a love of ex 
 citement and heroic adventure, than any rational feeling of patriotism. He 
 longed to be old enough to take part in the conflict. The discipline of 
 military drills, in those troublous times, was not lost upon boys of even 
 seven or eight years. They would form into companies, with plumes and 
 wooden guns, and their martial exercises were as exact as those of the men. 
 When two or three boys happened to meet in the street, their military 
 powers were tested by pitching into each other with sticks, instead of 
 wooden guns. Meanwhile ships were building, privateers fitting out, prizes 
 brought in, standards waving on forts and batteries ; while the exercising of 
 soldiers, the roar of cannon, the sound of martial music, and the call for 
 volunteers, completely infatuated him. His brother Thomas had returned 
 from a cruise in the General Mifflin, which had taken thirteen prizes : this 
 was another temptation. Our young hero was so much excited, that he 
 was often heard talking in his sleep by his mother. Such are some of the 
 dreams of glory and riches that infatuate youth, and, alas ! too many 
 children of a larger growth. His parents were in continual fear of his 
 wandering away and getting on board a vessel without their consent ; for it 
 was a common thing for country lads to step on board of a privateer, and 
 sometimes return home from a cruise ; their friends being ignorant of their 
 fate till they heard it from themselves. Others would pack up their clothes, 
 and with a cheese and a loaf, start for the army, without taking one look at 
 the dark side of things ; indeed to them there appeared no dark side. The 
 prevalence of this rash spirit, however, kept up the spirits of the despond 
 ing, and helped the country to make a successful struggle for liberty. 
 
 raen 
 
262 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 At last his father consented that Andrew should go to sea in the Ranger, 
 a ship-of-war of eighteen guns, though he was not yet fourteen. Privateer 
 ing was the order of the day. This resolution deprived him of the advan 
 tages of instruction. He had a vile habit of swearing, in which he then 
 allowed himself ; an inexcusable vice, which he endeavored to atone for by 
 praying very hard when he turned in at night. He went to sea in June, 
 1779. His associates being raw and undisciplined in sea life, and very sea 
 sick, occasioned much ridicule and merriment by the sailors. 
 
 One morning a man at the foretopmast-head cried out, "A sail! a saill 
 on the lee-bow and another there, and there ! " The young officers ran up 
 the shrouds, and, with their spyglasses, soon discovered over fifty vessels of 
 war ! many more prizes than they could take. They were now likely to 
 have fighting to their heart s content. These vessels were but a part of the 
 Jamaica fleet, of one hundred and fifty line-of-battle ships and sloops-of- 
 war ! The sight greatly alarmed our crew, and well it might. They could 
 distinctly see their lights, and hear their bells. The fog was very thick, by 
 which means they had the good luck to escape. Up to this time they had 
 taken but two prizes ; Sherburne s share of the spoils being about $100. 
 
 In a few weeks after his return from this voyage, he and his comrades 
 had to betake themselves to the ships. And though it might seem 
 unmanly to shed tears, yet the downcast, saddened look of a fond mother 
 and sisters proved too much for Andrew. We next find him and his little 
 squadron chasing a British ship, near the coast of Charleston. The Eanger 
 attacked a small British battery on James Island, and, after a severe can 
 nonading, the enemy s guns were silenced. At the beginning of this 
 battle, Andrew was excessively alarmed ; but, like the redoubtable Gil 
 Bias, cleverly managed to hide his fears from his associates. In another 
 onset they were defeated. . Captain Simpson and the Ranger s force were 
 much exposed to the fire of the British. Sherburne relates : 
 
 " While part of the officers and myself occupied an elegant house of 
 Colonel Gadsden, a bomb fell through the roof and burst in the cellar, 
 luckily hurting no one. Another fell within two feet of me ; but I threw 
 myself behind the carriage, and escaped. Another burst over my head, and 
 a large piece buried itself in the turf at my feet. A cannon ball struck the 
 house, passing within two feet of me. Bullets flew like hail in every direc 
 tion. Bricks and plaster fairly darkened the air ; and shells fell over the 
 city in a perfect shower : a dozen might be seen falling at once. The 
 seige was closely pressed, and we were in great fear of our works being 
 carried by storm. Finally we were obliged to capitulate on the 12th of 
 May, 1780. The day after this battle, a dreadful accident occurred. While 
 the British were depositing the muskets taken from us in the grand maga 
 zine, which was bomb proof, the powder in it exploded. The shock was 
 like an earthquake, and a great many were instantly swept into eternity. I 
 saw the print of a man s body, who had been dashed against a brick 
 church thirty feet above the ground, and thirty rods from the magazine. 
 The cause of this explosion was never known." 
 
 Sherburne was now a prisoner. On his return home, after his imprison 
 ment, he was worn down with sickness and misfortune. Before he reached 
 home, he heard of his father s death. On his way, with his little budget in 
 
OF AMERICANS. 263 
 
 hand, lie wept bitterly, and till his tears were exhausted. His poor mother 
 was now a widow ; arid his brother Thomas, once so flushed with success, 
 had not returned. Alas ! he never did return. As Andrew passed a house 
 in Lyme, he was noticed by a woman standing at the door. She was im 
 mediately joined by another tender-hearted mother. Both had sons in the 
 army, and might have had some hope of seeing or hearing of them. They 
 stood over him and wept in silence, meditating on the fate of their sons. 
 It was an hour of bitter sorrow ! The best their houses afforded, was pro* 
 vided for the youthful wanderer. In a week more he reached Portsmouth, 
 where he found his widowed and mourning mother. A scene like this, 
 with its changes in one year, can neither be described nor imagined. 
 
 Sherburne shall hereafter speak for himself in the remainder of this 
 narrative. 
 
 My mother was industriously employed in spinning, knitting, and sewing 
 for others, as a means of support for her children. She would sit at her 
 wheel for hours, diligent and pensive, without uttering a word ; and now 
 and then tears would roll down her cheeks, and she would break silence by 
 the narration of some event that took place in her father s day of prosperity. 
 
 As the Eanger was built in Portsmouth, and had fallen into the hands of 
 the enemy, the patriotic merchants of that place were anxious to retrieve 
 their loss. They built another beautiful ship of twenty guns, called the 
 Alexander, and gave Captain Simpson the command. A considerable 
 number of the Ranger s officers and men occupied the same station, as 
 formerly, in this new ship. I was invited by the captain to try my fortune 
 in her again, and readily accepted the offer. We sailed from Portsmouth in 
 December, 1780, and during a cruise of three months, took nothing. We 
 never gave chase without coining up with an enemy, though we never met 
 in battle. Before we reached home we were reduced to half allowance, and 
 suffered greatly for water. I had left my mother a power of attorney to 
 sell any part of my share she might require, by which means she was pro 
 vided with a cow, fuel, and other necessaries. 
 
 On my arrival I found my mother and sisters well, but there was no news 
 from my brother Thomas. I now began to feel as if the care of the family 
 would devolve on me. My neighbors extolled me for my attentions, and 
 this made me more ambitious. 
 
 The Alexander was the best and fastest sailing vessel I ever saw, and it 
 need not be wondered at if I should be invited to make a second voyage. 
 However, while one day walking in the street, I was recognized by one of 
 Neptune s fry, with the salutation, " Don t you want to take a short cruise in 
 a fine schooner, and make your fortune ? " Making one s " fortune," was a 
 matter of course ; yet what kind of fortune, remains to be seen. I answered 
 that I should "go in the Alexander." "0," said he, "we shall be back 
 before the Alexander will get ready to sail ! " This young man was 
 Captain Willis, of Kennebunk, Maine ; and his vessel was the Greyhound, 
 fitted out at Salem, Massachusetts. She mounted four pounders, was o 
 sixty tuns burden, and made quite a warlike appearance. One Captain 
 Arnold was the only person from Portsmouth going in her. He was prize- 
 master, and anxious to have me join them. The others were all strangers 
 to me. I was then about sixteen. Many fair promises, beside a share of 
 
264 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 spoils, were made. Privateering was a very common thing, and was then 
 sanctioned by public opinion, whatever may be said of it now. Having got 
 on board, I was introduced to my new companions by Captain Willis, with a 
 good deal of ceremony. He took me into the cabin, and I was much 
 caressed by the officers. I was invited to sing a song, and in the course of 
 the evening, I entertained them with several. There was a good deal of 
 management in all this ; for they found it very difficult to get hands, and 
 they wished to have me get attached to them, so that my influence co - . Id 
 secure others. The day after, we ran down to York, as it was needful for 
 Captain Willis to form some plan to increase his numbers ; for he had poor 
 success in Portsmouth. The plan was to get up a frolic at a public house, 
 and lads and lasses were invited for a country dance ! Rum, coffee, and 
 other attractions, were freely spread out to bait the unwary the devil s 
 usual trap. Having but one fiddler, and the company being large, it was 
 requisite to have dancing in more than one room. I was, therefore, in lieu 
 of fiddler number two, selected by the officers to sing for the other dancing 
 department. This suited me, as I was no proficient in dancing. Every art 
 and insinuation, however, only procured two recruits ! As might be ex 
 pected, the next day was one of the most melancholy I ever passed. The 
 gloom, the horror, the despondency I felt, cannot be described by mortal 
 tongue. I resolved to return home ; but in this resolution I could not 
 obtain the least relief. The voyage before me looked as gloomy as death. 
 It was " a horror of great darkness." Had I been in the middle of the ocean 
 on a single plank, my situation would not seem more hopeless. In this 
 forlorn situation, it came into my mind to go on board of the vessel and 
 pray. The people were mostly ashore ; and, after spending some time in 
 contemplation, I attempted to pray. The gloom in some measure subsided. 
 I then told the captain I had made up my mind to return home. Ho 
 acknowledged my right to do so, but being unwilling to part with me, he 
 got Captain Arnold and other officers to persuade me to remain another 
 evening. I reluctantly consented. The evening was spent much like the 
 last. Only on more hand was procured. The captain being satisfied that 
 he would have no success here, determined to push farther eastward, 
 having gained my consent to make the voyage. At Kennebunk and 
 Falmouth our success was equally indifferent. I now very much regretted 
 that I had ever seen the accursed Greyhound ; yet nobody was more to 
 blame than myself. My melancholy and forebodings came upon me with 
 renewed horror. Finally, I argued myself into a kind of unwilling resigna 
 tion to my hard fate. 
 
 We visited Cape Porpoise, a place of little resort, except by coasters. 
 There was by no means a dense population here. The visit of a vessel of 
 so rakish an appearance as the Greyhound, with flaming flag and streaming 
 pennants, was quite a novelty. The captain s barge was rowed with four 
 oars only, and I had the honor of being steersman of this little craft ; and 
 when we put off from alongside, the captain was honored with a gun and 
 three cheers from the crew. This was something unusual ; but we were 
 privateersmen. 
 
 With such inadequate recruits we went to sea. When we were off 
 Halifax we were chased by a topsail schooner, larger than ours. With a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 265 
 
 fresh gale, and a heavy sea, and carrying sail so long, we were in great 
 danger of our masts being carried away. The vessel chasing us was much 
 faster than ours, and, of course, came up with us ; but, before she came up, 
 we were obliged to take in topsail. This devolved on me alone, and I 
 narrowly escaped being thrown off the yard, which was only a spar, about 
 the size of a man s leg, affording a feeble support. The pitching and rolling 
 of the vessel rendered my situation perilous beyond conception. Millions 
 would not induce me to run such a risk again ! The vessel in chase proved 
 to bo the Bloodhound, an American ! 
 
 After this we ventured a peep into Halifax harbor, where we saw a ship, 
 apparently in distress, trying to get into port. The British had found out 
 some of our Yankee tricks, and so played one themselves. We hoped to 
 make a prize of her, but our suspicions increased as we approached, and we 
 drew off. No sooner had we changed course, however, than she made 
 chase, which lasted several hours. B}^ maneuvering and the fog, we happily 
 escaped, but were in great danger of being completely outwitted. We had 
 heard of rich prizes being taken here, but the captain thought it prudent to 
 be off this ground altogether, and try our fortune on the eastern shore, near 
 the mouth of the St. Lawrence. We had a trying time amid the islands, 
 for we could look in no direction without seeing a sail. We soon found it 
 necessary to speak to one of tbem. From their maneuvering, we suspected 
 they were in league, and we were at a loss to determine whether they were 
 friends or foes. None of them were as large as ours, and we thought we 
 need not fear any one of them singly ; but if they should prove enemies, 
 then the case would be somewhat different ! However, we finally ascer- 
 taine 1 they were all Americans. Next day we parted with this squadron, 
 except one of them that agreed to accompany us, but we soon parted 
 with her. 
 
 We visited a cluster of islands called the Birds Island, and gathered half 
 a dozen bushels of the eggs of wild geese, gannets, gulls, ducks, etc. It was 
 interesting to observe the management of the feathered race. Their nests 
 were as thick as hills of corn. There were low bushes, but no trees on these 
 small islands. On landing, the birds took a general alarm, and would rise 
 in masses, as in remonstrance against our intrusion. The best of these 
 eggs, however, were no very delicate morsel. I have seen a Newfoundland 
 shallop, almost loaded with them. 
 
 Near Fortune Bay we fell in with a Newfoundland shallop. We detained 
 the captain (Charles Grandy) some time, and questioned him very closely, 
 and were informed that an English brig had recently entered the bay, with 
 s applies. We gave him some pork and bread, and dismissed him, to his 
 great joy : for he fared much better than most of his countrymen did, when 
 ther fell into the hands of American privateers. We hoped to fall in with 
 this brig, and obtain a fine prize, and visited several ports where fishing was 
 carried on, and found no brig ; but we were informed one was expected. 
 Having failed in this enterprise, the captain took two of the best shallops 
 he could find, belonging to wealthy merchants, and loaded them with oil 
 and dry fish, belonging to merchants in England. We then left the 
 privateer, near Fortune Bay, and set out for Salem, but the wind drove us 
 back, and we were compelled to anchor in the harbor of the island. 
 
266 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 A dark cloud of adversity now seemed ready to burst upon me. As we 
 were in a snug harbor where there were no inhabitants, we did not keep 
 watch at night. One morning as I came on deck, I perceived that Captain 
 Arnold was very different from what he had been. He had been exceed 
 ingly low spirited since we left the privateer. He now seemed somewhat 
 deranged now he would be quite sportive now he would have a great 
 weight on his mind. In the evening he requested me to get a light and 
 come into the cabin to him. I staid with him all night. He talked the 
 whole night on every imaginable subject sometimes he seemed rational 
 sometimes deranged. From all this, I gathered that he had a mortal dread 
 of falling into the hands of the enemy. It was said by some one, that he 
 ran away from Halifax with a king s cutter. In the morning he appeared 
 very cheerful. In the course of the day, he seemed to imagine he was on 
 board the privateer would speak to this and that officer, and reply as 
 though they had answered him. When night came on, I advised him to go 
 into his cabin. I thought it fortunate that he complied. I made his bed, 
 and proposed that he should lie down, which he did without hesitation, and 
 was still. I was determined to secure him, and shut the door, buttoning it 
 on the outside : then, with a thick stick of wood sawn square at each end, I 
 fastened the door doubly secure, one end against a bulkhead, the other 
 against the door, pressing it down with my whole weight. Having had no 
 sleep the night before, I was now prepared to rest without disturbance. 
 The captain made no noise, and as he slept none the previous night, I 
 hoped he would rest. About daylight, one of the hands, Annis, a stupid, 
 shiftless, low-spirited fellow, came on deck, but soon returned, exclaiming, 
 with surprise, " Sherburne, where is Captain Arnold?" "In his cabin," 
 said I. " He is not on board," replied Annis. Going on deck, I saw the 
 cabin door open. His clothes were all on deck, except his waistcoat. His 
 shirt and silver sleeve-buttons on the top. The reader will judge of my 
 surprise and distress on this awful occasion. The water was smooth and 
 clear, and being only about fifteen feet deep, the white sandy bottom could 
 be plainly seen. We hailed the other shallop, and informed our comrades. 
 We then went round and round in a skiff, enlarging our circle, and carefully 
 viewing the bottom for a considerable distance. Then we went on shore 
 and walked round the beach, but discovered no tracks of bare feet in the 
 sand. Thus our search was fruitless. My reader will have to decide what 
 was his fate. How he got out of the cabin is a mystery. 
 
 Our next plan was to get to Salem. We had great difficulty in deciding 
 whether one or both of the shallops should be taken with us. Ours was the 
 largest, and had the best cargo the other had the best sails. I proposed 
 that Annis and myself should go on board the other, -and quit ours ; but 
 Annis would not consent. My situation was critical : Annis knew not a 
 point of the compass, could not steer, nor do anything to work the vessel 
 in short, he knew nothing. We were yet in an enemy s country, had to 
 cross the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the wind was against us. Everything 
 went wrong. Next day the wind was more favorable. Annis could assisi 
 me in getting up the anchor, and hoisting the sails, but he knew not how 
 to trim them to the wind. An attempt to steer this little craft all the way 
 to the United States would be madness. About noon we discovered a ship. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 267 
 
 and soon found she wished to speak with us. She chased us several hours, 
 but the "wind dying away, she sent her boats. She proved to be an Ameri 
 can privateer of about twenty guns. The men who boarded our vessel 
 plundered us of some of our fishing-tackle, and let us pass ; but were not 
 honorable enough to let us know who they were. Early in the evening we 
 had a breeze, which, by midnight, increased to a gale. Our vessel was la 
 boring hard. The night was dark. Xo moon or stars were seen. We as 
 earnestly " wished for the day," as St. Paul s company did off the Island of 
 Malta ; and when the day appeared, it was to make our danger visible. Our 
 consort was half a mile ahead of us. We had lost our boat, which was 
 towed at the stern. The clouds looked wild, and the ocean was rough. At 
 sunrise we split our mainsail from top to bottom, and with great difficulty 
 got it down and secured it. At that moment we were obliged to put away 
 before the wind, and sail under a whole foresail. Our foremast, having so 
 much sail upon it, was in great danger, for the wind was not steady, but blew 
 in gusts, and the mast would bend like a whip. Our vessel being heavily 
 laden, labored hard in so rough a sea, which caused her to leak so badly, 
 that one was kept bailing all the time. The gale increased the sea became 
 more and more boisterous, and the leak also increased. We were fearful that 
 we could not weather the storm, and expected every moment to see our 
 mast go over the bow ; and if it should, we would founder in a few minutes. 
 At twelve we discovered land ahead : it was a small island, and it appeared 
 impossible to avoid running directly on it, and being dashed to pieces at the 
 first blow. It seemed as if our fate was sealed. The other shallop, half a 
 mile distant, could easily clear the island. When we came within a mile 
 of it, we made out just to clear it. There was, however, a reef of rocks 
 adjoining, over which we must pass, and did pass, without striking, so that 
 we cleared it about twenty yards. We all arrived about the same time, and 
 came to anchor in a small cove. Thus, by another merciful providence, we 
 escaped inconceivable perils ! It was now more than twenty-four hours 
 since I had tasted food. We threw over a hook and line, and soon drew in 
 a large hallibut, and could have taken a hundred if we wished, but one 
 sufficed. Cooking went rapidly on, and the fish disappeared with magic 
 quickness. We congratulated each other on escaping destruction, and laid 
 the two shallops as near to each other as we dared. Had the wind shifted 
 and blown from the opposite point, nothing could have saved us. Two nights 
 passed, and I had no sleep. I w:is worn down with care and anxiety. The 
 gloom that so depressed me at York Harbor, now rushed through my soul in 
 a black tempest of horrors. After a vigorous dispute next day with Lloyd, 
 the captain of the other shallop, and securing the friendship and co-operation 
 of Willis (in case of farther difficulty with Lloyd), we got under way 
 again. In the course of an hour we saw a small schooner making toward 
 us. Various were our conjectures. The vessel gained on us. We were all 
 convinced she was an enemy now, except old Mr. Lloyd. We tried hard to 
 have him cut the shallop adrift, and try to be off with one, but he would 
 not. The enemy now began to fire upon us with long buccaneer pieces, into 
 which they would put eight or ten musket balls for a charge. The first fire 
 did not strike us, but we heard the bullets whistle over our heads. The 
 second charge went through the head of our mainsail, and the third went 
 
263 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 through the middle. Lloyd now thought it was high time to heave to, and 
 ascertain who were our visitors. In a few minutes they were alongside, and 
 twenty men sprang on board with those long guns in their hands, loaded; 
 primed, and cocked, and presented two or three at each of our breasts with 
 out ceremony, bitterly cursing, and threatening to kill us. We plead for 
 quarters : they swore at us, and seemed determined to take our lives. After 
 they had vented their bitter imprecations like so many demons, two or three 
 of them interceded for us. One of these was their commander, but their 
 entreaties seemed to increase the rage of the others. They acted like perfect 
 fiends. We stood trembling and awaiting their decisions. At length the 
 captain, and several others more rational than the rest, prevailed on these 
 heady fellows to forbear. 
 
 Their first business was to get their prizes under way for Grand Bank. 
 These Newfoundlanders (I forbear calling them English) made it their 
 business to know every minute particular that had transpired since we left 
 the bay. Captain Arnold had a privateer s commission : this paper I pre 
 served. We arrived at Grand Bank before night. The whole village 
 collected to see the Yankee prisoners ; and we were completely surrounded. 
 Among the people was an old English lady of distinction, who appeared to 
 have an excellent education, and to whose opinions and instructions the 
 greatest respect was shown. She was the only one who inquired for papers. 
 Lloyd had none, and knew not that it was needful to have any. I presented 
 the papers. The lady commenced reading them audibly, and without inter 
 ruption, until she came to the clause in the privateer s letter of marque and 
 reprisal, which authorized to "burn, sink, or destroy," etc. Many of the 
 people then became excessively exasperated, and swore we ought to be 
 killed outright. They were chiefly West-countrymen and Irish, rough, 
 savage, and uncultivated in a complete state of anarchy without minister 
 or magistrate among them. They were very loyal to his "most gracious 
 majesty." The old lady interposed, and called them to order, telling them 
 we were prisoners of war, and ought to be treated with humanity, and con 
 veyed to a British armed station. She then continued the reading without 
 further interruption. This good woman gave directions, and they began to 
 prepare some refreshment for us : they hung on a pot and boiled some cod 
 fish and salt-pork. They then took the pot out of doors and turned it 
 upside down on a square board with cleats at the edges, and when the 
 board was sufficiently drained, the provision was set on a table, or rather, 
 bench, somewhat higher than a common table, and the company stood round 
 it, and without forks ate with their fingers. They had fish-knives to cut 
 their pork, however. After this refreshment we were conducted into a 
 cooper s shop and locked up, the windows secured, and a guard placed out 
 side. We endeavored to compose ourselves as well as we could, but were 
 ignorant of our fate. Next morning we were put on board a shallop and 
 confined. Everything that we had except the clothes on our backs, was 
 taken from us even our shoes. We were taken up the bay to a small 
 harbor, called Cornish, the residence of the man whom we had captured 
 when we first came on the coast. This man (Grandy) did not forget our 
 kindness in giving him his liberty, and would have done more for us had it 
 been in his power. He gave us a large flour loaf and a plate of butter. Ha 
 
OF AMERICANS. 269 
 
 aeemed to be generalissimo of this little port. This little incident is a pleas 
 ing proof that generous deeds are not always unrewarded. Having had our 
 refreshment, we were locked up in a warehouse. Next morning we had an 
 early breakfast furnished by our good friend Grandy, whose partiality was 
 evidently disgusting to some of our guard. We were taken several miles up 
 a river and landed, in order to strike across the cape to Placentia Bay. 
 We were guarded by seven sturdy fellows with long muskets ; some of them 
 were rude and abusive. The distance from Fortune Bay to Placentia Bay 
 was twenty miles through a dreary wilderness. The briars and underbrush 
 were very injurious to our feet and legs, our shoes having been taken from 
 us. Poor old Mr. Lloyd was most to be pitied, for he began to lag early in 
 the day, and the soldiers frequently gave him blows with the butt-end of 
 their guns. In the course of the day we all received a hard biscuit and a 
 small slice of raw pork. Though this might not be called hard fare, yet 
 our journey was exceedingly fatiguing. It was night when we got over to 
 the shore of Placentia Bay, and we were five miles from the station, where 
 there was a small battery and a few regular soldiers. The post was occupied 
 by a rich old man of the Isle of Jersey, who had a large number of shallops 
 and fishermen in his service, some of whom had been rudely treated by 
 American privateers. He was greatly infuriated when he found we were 
 Americans, insisting that we ought to be killed forthwith. He swore he 
 would give us neither food nor shelter. But our guard had received instruc 
 tions from the good old lady at Grand Bank, and they threatened to present 
 him to his majesty s officers. The old man then abruptly quit them, and 
 went to his house. The guard took possession of the brew-house, in which 
 he had brewed that day. The floor was wet and muddy. I went out and 
 broke off my arms full of fir and spruce boughs for my bed, and lay down 
 exceedingly fatigued, and soon fell asleep. Some of the guard had been 
 busy in getting something ready to eat. One of them came to me, gave me 
 a shake, and bade me rise and eat my supper. Though my dinner had been 
 scanty enough, yet I preferred rest, and declined to get up ; but he gave me 
 a pretty heavy thump, saying, with an oath, " Get up, you Yankee, and take 
 your supper ! " I thought it best to obey this summons. Our supper was 
 in similar style to that at Grand Bank. We had saucers of sweet oil no 
 plates, knives, or forks. Each took fish in his fingers and dipped it in oil ! 
 I tried to go through the same manual exercise, but had the greatest diffi 
 culty in swallowing such disgusting victuals. This over, I returned to my 
 bed of boughs, and slept soundly all night. In the morning, we had to 
 walk five miles to the little battery, which was performed with even greater 
 difficulty than the whole twenty miles the day before. We passed a 
 promontory of tiresome, difficult, and dangerous ascent and descent some 
 times almost perpendicular, and had to catch fast hold of the bushes to avoid 
 falling headlong upon the rocks below. When we arrived, they fired one 
 of their artillery pieces, for joy that some Yankee privateers had fallen into 
 their hands ; for some had been much annoyed by them, and others had 
 been prisoners, and their stores and shallops had been plundered. I think 
 we were the only prisoners captured on their coast. From this place wo 
 were taken to another harbor, and put on board a shallop for Placentia, and 
 our guard of seven returned to Fortune Bay. The guard now was only 
 
270 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 three men, more humane than the others ; they had long muskets lying 
 loaded by them. Having ascertained that we had had no breakfast, they hove 
 to, and soon hauled in some fine cod, which they boiled with pork. This, 
 with ship-bread, was quite in contrast with our execrable and disgusting 
 supper. We were all kept forward and not allowed to come near the 
 quarter-deck, where lay the loaded guns. We arrived at Placentia at night, 
 and a government boat took us to the commissary. He came into his room 
 with a number of gentlemen, who examined us with great scrutiny. They 
 were deeply hurt on seeing the condition of our feet and hearing of our ill- 
 treatment, and gave us shoes and stockings, expressing great regret at the 
 unhappy discord between the mother country and the colonies. The com 
 missary told us we must take up our residence in his garrison, and sent us 
 some flour loaves and butter. After eating, we heard the sound of bagpipes 
 at the door, and a messenger was sent to call us out. On going to the door 
 we were taken into custody by a sergeant s guard of Highlanders, in their 
 Scotch kilts, plaids, bonnets, and checkered stockings, with guns, fixed 
 bayonets, broadswords, and all and singular the accoutrements and para 
 phernalia thereunto belonging. Annis, Ball, Willis and I, gazed with 
 astonishment at this most singular novelty. Sandy changed his tune ; we 
 had orders to march, and were conducted into the guard-room of the fort, 
 and a sentinel was placed at the door. 
 
 The governor of Placentia was Colonel Hawkins, a man of gentlemanly 
 deportment. He had but a part of his regiment here. His wife was the 
 daughter of an old Highlander, who was a private. He and a number of 
 other soldiers had their wives and children with them in the garrison. The 
 governor was not over thirty, and his wife twenty. She was cheerful and 
 humane. We had not been long in the garrison before Willis and I were 
 invited by the governor to assist rowing his barge up the river, where ho 
 had salmon-nets. As we lads were more expert in rowing than the soldiers, 
 W T illis was taken for boatman, and I for strokesman. There were a number 
 of islands in the river, where grew raspberries, gooseberries, and a variety of 
 other berries, which were very good. The governor and his wife generally 
 landed on one of these islands, to amuse themselves in picking berries, whilfe 
 we attended to the salmon-nets. The lady would amuse herself in asking- 
 questions about Yankees, their manners and customs, and regretted that we 
 boys were prisoners, detained from our parents. She had two children of 
 her own, and had the feelings of a parent. On our return from our excur 
 sions up the river, which generally took us the greater part of the day, we 
 were sent into the governor s kitchen and furnished with a good supper 
 which was the more acceptable, as our allowance was scanty. After ws 
 had been several times up the river, we were all allowed to walk in the 
 yard by day, but could not go out of the yard without a guard. But we 
 never went out, except to bring water from a spring near the garrison. 
 
 It was some time in May, 1781, that we came here, and September came 
 without a prospect of release. About the 15th of the month, there came in 
 a twenty-two gunship, the Duchess of Cumberland. She was built in 
 Salem, and called the Congress, but, having been captured by the British, 
 her name was changed. This vessel came to convey a number of English 
 merchantmen. While in port, one of her men deserted. Diligent search 
 
OF AMERICANS. 271 
 
 having been made without success, it was suspected that some of the 
 inhabitants concealed him. The officers retaliated by impressing a man 
 named Baggs. Governor Hawkins put us prisoners on board this ship, to 
 take us to St. Johns, where were a prison-ship and a number of prisoners, 
 and it was expected, that a cartel would be sent thence to Boston that fall. 
 Thus there was a prospect of getting home again, but our prospects were 
 blasted ! 
 
 On the second day out we had a gale, with rain. In the afternoon, a 
 strange sail appeared, for which we gave chase ; but, as the wind increased 
 and we were going out of our course, it was given up. It now became 
 necessary to steer for St. Marys. The wind was furious. About three 
 o clock they thought best to put the ship away a little, supposing they had 
 passed the cape. Mr. Baggs had been skipper of a shallop for twenty years ; 
 he was therefore invited to take his place on the forecastle, the station of 
 the most accomplished seamen. The forecastlemen steer by turns ; and 
 when the helm was relieved, Mr. Baggs asked the helmsman what course 
 they were steering ? and when he had ascertained, remarked, " If we run 
 that course two hours, the ship will be on shore!" The sailors were 
 alarmed at this information. Baggs then went aft and told the other 
 officers that he was well acquainted with the coast, and in his judgment the 
 ship and their lives were in imminent danger. But those British officers 
 scorned to be instructed by a Newfoundland fisherman, and commanded 
 him to be off the quarter-deck or they would kick him off. Baggs went 
 forward, not a little chagrined at their savage treatment. The sailors for 
 ward kept a good lookout, however, though the weather was so thick that 
 they could see only a short distance. No pen can describe, no imagination 
 conceive, the horrors that awaited us. 
 
 On the 19th September, about sunset, loud and repeated cries were heard 
 from the forecastle, " Breakers on the lee-bow ! Breakers on the lee-bow ! " 
 This doleful sound made every ear to tingle. Immediately was heard, 
 " Stand by to about ship ! Hard to lee, foretop bowline, jib and staysail 
 sheets, let go ! " The ship instantly rounded to, head to the wind ; but 
 before the foretopsail could be fitted on the other tack, the violence of the 
 wind and waves gave the ship stern way, and she was dashed furiously 
 against a rugged bluff of rocks standing twenty feet out of water. Two men 
 sprang instantly from the vessel on a shelf of the crags. Another, at the 
 helm, was knocked overboard by the sudden shock ; another made a 
 desperate effort to reach the rock, and both were drowned. The ship could 
 be governed no longer, and we were at the mercy of the waves. All was 
 confusion, consternation, and despair ! The ship stuck fast upon a craggy 
 rock, which lay under water about twice her length from the shore, and 
 probably broke several of her floor-timbers. All this took place before half 
 the people below could scramble on deck. Looking down the hatchway, I 
 could see a stream, as big as a man s body, violently gushing up from the 
 bottom. With the greatest difficulty I reached the quarter-deck. The .ship 
 rolled fearfully ; the yardarms nearly touched the water, the sea breaking 
 feather- white all round ! Under the fog bank which hung over the shore, 
 we could see the mountain, but not the top of it. The wind blew most 
 furiously, and the rain poured down in torrents. The sea roared like 
 
272 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 thunder, while night came on apace. Some of the officers were raving and 
 swearing like bedlamites; some were crying, others praying; some inactive 
 and desponding ; while others were active and courageous. The long-boat 
 was gotten out, but as soon as it touched the water, a heavy sea dashed it 
 against the ship s side, breaking it to pieces as quick as you would crush an 
 egg-shell in your hand. The ship was fast filling, and there seemed to be 
 no possibility of another person being saved ; while those on shore saw nc 
 prospect of release for themselves, and expected to see all their companions 
 perish. The masts were now ordered to be cut away : after a few blows the 
 main-mast fell, and the fore-mast and mizen-mast also fell without a stroke, 
 by the power of the tempest. On the fall of the masts, the ship cleared 
 from the rock on which she had been for some time hanging, and drifted 
 toward the shore, thumping tremendously on the rocks under water, and 
 throwing us furiously against each other. The ship finally drifted into a 
 cove and brought up on some rocks, which were so near the surface that 
 she could not get over them. Every sea gave her a tremendous shock. 
 The decks opened in some places wide enough for a man to get through 
 into the hold. The ship was situated somewhat like that in which St. 
 Paul was wrecked on the Isle of Malta : " The fore-part stuck fast and 
 remained immovable, but the hinder-part was broken by the violence of the 
 waves." There were five prisoners on board ; but I heard of no council to 
 put us to death, for there was not the remotest possibility of our escape by 
 swimming ; and it was equally impossible for any one to save himself on 
 " boards, or broken pieces of the ship." By the time the ship stuck fast, 
 the two sailors who jumped on the rocks, had, with immense difficulty, got 
 nearly abreast of us. Nothing astonished us more than their feat of getting 
 from the rocks to the beach. A small spar and a rope made fast to it, 
 were now hove over the stern. The waves carried the spar on shore, but 
 the men could not reach it ; so it was drawn on board again. This was 
 repeated several times, till at last the men on shore succeeded in catching it, 
 and it was made fast round a rock as large as a haystack. The sailors on 
 board drew it as straight as they could, and made it fast round the stump of 
 the fore-mast. Had the ship been driven over the reef she struck, she must 
 have gone to pieces in going three times her length, and not a soul would 
 have been saved. When the waves ran, they would bury the rope under 
 water, for it was drawn so straight that it could not rise from the sea. A 
 man attempted to get ashore by this rope, and succeeded very well till he 
 got a couple of rods from the ship, when he was washed off and dashed 
 against the rocks ; the next sea buried him, and he sunk to rise no more. 
 Several others met the same fate. This must have been owing to too much 
 exertion at first ; for the ship could not have been in a better position, being 
 completely bound by large craggy rocks. The fate of those who had been 
 washed off from the rope seemed to discourage the rest. At length another, 
 and then another, ventured, and succeeded in getting on shore, and were 
 joyfully received. The next one, however, was lost. Six or seven more 
 were then successful. Night was coming on, and our situation was gloomy 
 indeed. Several midshipmen made efforts, but drew back. Their cries of 
 distress were bitter and heartrending. I now began to think of trying my 
 self, though the hope of success was exceedingly faint. I buttoned up m) 
 
OF AMERICANS. 273 
 
 outside jacket, drawing my shirt out of my trowsers. I had on an old- 
 fashioned Dutch cap, which fitted very tight. I could swim tolerably, and 
 flattered myself that this would be in my favor ; but as soon as I took hold 
 of the rope, and fell into the water, I found I could make no use of my 
 legs, as the water was so greatly agitated. The first swell was somewhat 
 obstructed by the ship ; and I was completely buried in the sea for a short 
 time. When the second sea came, I was exposed to its whole violence, and 
 it seemed as if I should be pressed to death, and the time seemed very long. 
 There I was in the most perilous situation that can possibly be conceived, 
 hanging on by my hands to the rope, stretched out horizontally, suspended 
 in the air ; and before the swell retired, my right hand gave way. 0, the 
 horror of that moment ! I was distracted ! Among my many fears, one 
 was, that the left hand would continue its hold until I was drowned. My 
 left arm got weaker and weaker, and I expected every moment to be in 
 eternitv and appear before the Eternal Judge. It would be labor in vain to 
 give the faintest idea of my terrors, and the fear of death. The undertow 
 swept me under the rope ; I threw my right arm over it, and instantly 
 grasped fast hold of the collar of my jacket and other clothes, and, taking 
 breath, made a frenzied effort to draw myself toward shore, before another 
 6ea could sweep over me. The third wave stretched me, but having my 
 arm over the rope, I was better fortified, the sea being less violent than 
 before. When the waves retired, I was left suspended by the rope, and I 
 could almost touch the hideous, rugged rocks with my feet, but I feared to 
 let go my hold, because the men on shore could not yet afford me any 
 assistance. Another sea came, but its force was almost spent before it 
 reached me. When the sea rolled back, two sailors followed it, holding on 
 the rope with one hand, and drew me on the beach ! They laid me on my 
 back, and left me more dead than alive. After a while I found myself 
 struggling to get on my side, and finally made out to sit up, but I could not 
 stand. On viewing the wreck, I felt deeply thankful to the good God for 
 my deliverance, and inwardly vowed to serve him all my days. One of 
 the men being courageous and uncommonly strong, made out to get on 
 board the wreck. He was an officer, but I do not remember his name or 
 rank. He and others had now contrived a better means of rescuing those 
 remaining on the wreck. They fixed a traveler on the rope, by which he 
 first went on shore, so that he could not wash off, and the man took with 
 him a rope, long enough to reach the shore : the end on the wreck was 
 made fast round a man s body, and another equally long fixed to it. The 
 man then fell into the water, and those on shore would run with their 
 end, while those on board would pay out, taking care to keep the rope 
 tight, so as to prevent the man from dashing against the rocks. By the 
 time I could walk down to the edge of the water, they were hauling five or 
 six men at once, on different ropes. More than one hundred were saved in 
 this way ! 
 
 The wind and rain continued, and we were without shelter. We could not 
 ascend the mountain without great difficulty. Night came on. The wreck, 
 which might contain thirty persons, could not now be seen. We finally 
 reached a hollow in the mountain, but there was not room enough for all of 
 us to lie down without lying upon each other. But it was better to do thifl 
 
27i ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 than be exposed to the full fury of the cold storm. Sometimes those who 
 lay lowest down on the steep ground, would slip down, several in a cluster, 
 all the way to the beach among the rocks. When this happened, they did 
 not forget to swear. At two in the morning, the wind shifted, and the sea 
 was less noisy. At daybreak, our great anxiety was to know whether the 
 wreck had gone to pieces. We were greatly rejoiced to find it had not. 
 We were now able to converse with those remaining on the wreck. About 
 nine in the morning, a few got on board, and in the course of the day nearly 
 all escaped ; bringing the provisions, ammunition, muskets, tomahawks, 
 cutlasses, and other implements, on shore. The crew was about one 
 hundred and seventy, besides prisoners. Every man had secured a blanket ; 
 and thus equipped, after our terrible misfortunes, all hands prepared to 
 ascend the mountain. 
 
 Mr. Baggs, whose counsel had been despised an hour before the ship 
 struck, was now in high feather, and looked up to with respect, even by the 
 captain, whose name was Marsh : a man of respectability. He was not on 
 deck when Baggs was so illtreated by those conceited, ruffian up-starts, who 
 had threatened to kick him, for giving information that would have saved 
 the lives of every soul on board, and incredible misery. It was also said 
 that the ship s course was altered without the captain s knowledge. The 
 number of the lost I do not remember. We saved the only woman on 
 board, the cook s wife. Her husband, one of the surgeon s mates, with 
 several others, were left in this place. This woman was delivered of a child 
 a day or two after, and all the party were taken off in fishing-shallops. 
 About two o clock we began to ascend the mountain. In climbing a preci 
 pice twenty feet high, I could not walk without holding on by a rope. 
 Some one jerked it out of my hands, and I fell on my face ; and when I had 
 slipped down to the edge of the precipice, a person who had just got up, 
 clapped his foot on me till I caught the rope again. Had I fallen over the 
 precipice, I should have been killed. Reaching the top, I found myself on 
 the border of a spacious plain. Looking northerly and easterly, a man 
 might be seen a mile off: but not a tree or shrub. A mile and a half 
 southerly was a wilderness of evergreens. The ground was covered with a 
 thick moss, in which your foot would sink a foot at every tread. In the 
 distance, our wreck did not look bigger than a boat. A company of one 
 hundred and fifty of us now took up our journey for the woods, which we 
 reached at sunset. We had no luck in making a fire, for every material 
 was wet. . We gathered green boughs for beds, and stowed closely together, 
 covering ourselves with the blankets we brought from the wreck ; and after 
 all, we were very uncomfortable, as the reader will believe, for our clothes 
 were wet, and the night was frosty. 
 
 In the morning, the captain and some other officers had a long consulta 
 tion with Mr. Baggs, as to the route we should pursue. We were about one 
 hundred miles from Placentia, but the distance from St. Johns I do not 
 know. Finally, it was decided to shape our course for Placentia. On the 
 following morning, orders were given to have all the provisions collected* 
 and everybody was to receive an equal allowance. It was thought best to 
 remain where we were one day, however, that Mr. Baggs might examine 
 the coast, and settle some question in his own mind. He and a number of 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 officers set off for an exploration of the coast. In the evening they re 
 turned, bringing the unpleasant intelligence that the vessel which had 
 chased us had gone entirely to pieces, and, no doubt, every soul on board 
 was lost. On the following morning, according to arrangement the day 
 before, we took up our pilgrimage, keeping along in the woods till noon, 
 when we came upon the shore at the head of Distress Bay. Mr. Baggs told 
 us, that for several leagues the water was not more than two fathoms deep, 
 and that this bay abounded with rocks under water. It was supposed that 
 the vessel must have gone to pieces several miles from the shore. We con 
 jectured that she was a brig, and knew her to have been American built, for 
 on the foreheads of some of her carved images, we saw the letters " U. S. 
 A." She might have been captured by the English, and employed in their 
 service. There \vas no doubt of her having been to the West Indies, for we 
 found several hogsheads of rum on shore. The officers, with tomahawks, 
 cut holes in them, and emptied them, lest the sailors should linger for the 
 sake of the rum. The remains of the vessel were scattered for miles along 
 the shore. We picked up fourteen men and a boy of about fourteen, 
 dragged them on the bank, and, with staves, dug a grave two or three feet 
 deep, and buried the poor fellows as decently as we could. How narrowly 
 had we escaped the same dreadful fate ! The only provision we found was 
 a lump of butter, from a keg that had been stove to pieces ; and the sand 
 was beat into the butter several inches. We scraped off the damaged part, 
 and took the rest along with us. We spent several hours about the wreck. 
 The largest pieces of the wreck we found were several planks of the quarter 
 deck, and some of the timbers. 
 
 Next day we continued our pilgrim-progress through the woods, and ia 
 the afternoon reached Distress Bay ; and never was name more appropriate, 
 so far as we were concerned. We kept along the shore for many miles of 
 horrid traveling, and were finally obliged to take to the woods again, owing 
 to the bold rocky coast. I have been accustomed to the wilderness of New 
 England, New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio ; but never found any region 
 so difficult of travel as Newfoundland. 
 
 Three times a day Captain Marsh would sit down, with the bread-bag 
 between his legs, and deal out a small portion, while an officer would dis 
 tribute a little meat and butter from the keg we found on the seashore. 
 The whole amount to each man, did not exceed eight ounces a day. In 
 about ten days we reached a little port, called Point Yar, greatly exhausted. 
 We were in the enemy s country that is, we who were Americans. Here 
 we were driven into storehouses as prisoners, and were furnished with - a 
 drink, called " Labrador tea," well sweetened with molasses. This tea, 
 with ship-bread, made our supper. Before we were well housed we made 
 free with some of the fish from the beach, but this was taken from us. I 
 had the good luck to conceal one under my jacket, and found the others 
 had quartered on the enemy by doing the same. Here we had a dry floor 
 and a good night s rest. The next day we had to walk five miles to 
 Placentia, as prisoners, and were put in our old station, the guard-house. A 
 Mr. Saunders, one of the principal merchants, gave me and others some 
 clothing. Governor Hawkins and his lady were very friendly, and so were 
 many others of the garrison, and congratulated us on our return, after having 
 18 
 
276 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Buffered so much in two short weeks long weeks they were to us. We 
 continued here about a month. My comrades were variously disposed of. 
 My friend Willis and I were destined to serve his most gracious majesty, 
 King George III, on board the Fairy sloop-of-war, under Captain Yeo, a 
 perfect tyrant. We were all called upon the quarter-deck, and this cap 
 tain, after asking us a few questions, turned to his officers, saying, " They 
 are a couple of fine lads for his majesty s service. Mr. Gray, see that they 
 do their duty, one in the fore-top, the other in the main-top." Willis 
 replied, that he was "afraid to go up, as he was subject to fits, and might 
 fall and be killed." And I replied, " I am a prisoner of war, and will not 
 serve against my country." After some hard words and furious threats, we 
 were ordered off the quarter-deck, arid commanded to do duty in the waist. 
 We therefore left our tyrant in haste. In a day or two, all hands were 
 called. The usual ceremony was on this wise : the boatswain s mate stood 
 at the fore-hatchway, and called, or, with a pipe, blew a long and loud 
 blast, and then hallooed, " All hands, ahoy." He performed this ceremony 
 also at the main-hatchway, and the after-hatchway. I saw no necessity for 
 all this parade, and always thought it was for no other purpose than to ferret 
 out and overawe us two Yankee lads. After a suitable time for the men to 
 get on deck, the boatswain s mate went down fore and aft between decks, to 
 see if there were any skulkers. None disobeyed the summons but Willis 
 and I, who were snug in the cable tier. He began to rave like a bedlamite, 
 hastened toward us, commanding us to go on deck. " We are prisoners of 
 war American prisoners." " Tell me nothing about prisoners ! Upon 
 deck immediately." We still kept our stations, and remonstrated, while he 
 belched out a stream of horrid oaths, at the same time striking us furiously 
 with his rattan. For some time we sternly refused to budge, while he 
 thrashed us alternately, his rage increasing with every blow, and seemed 
 determined to conquer. We should have continued our resistance, but saw 
 it would be useless, and therefore went on deck with no small reluctance, 
 the mate close at our heels repeating his blows. Having got on deck, J saw 
 but little to do. Fox, the carpenter, observing me tearfully meditating on 
 my hard fate, was looking on while the mate was whipping us. The reader 
 will judge of my painful and forlorn condition, especially that of being com 
 pelled to serve the king. The carpenter kindly called me to him, and 
 asked me to sit down. u I see, my lad," said he, " you are obliged to do 
 duty." "Yes, sir, much against my will," said I. "It is wrong," said the 
 carpenter, " but it would not do for me to interfere ; but I was tkinking to 
 do you a favor. His majesty allows me two boys ; if you will come into 
 my berth and take a little care here, I will excuse you from keeping watch, 
 and all other duty." After some hesitation, I agreed to this proposal, the 
 carpenter remarking that it would be more favorable, as there would be 
 otherwise no escape from the tyranny of the captain, who was very arbi 
 trary, and hated by the crew ; adding, that he intended to leave the ship 
 when he got home, but enjoining secrecy, and promising .to be my friend. 
 In a few days we arrived at St. Johns. Here we found we were destined 
 to see old England ! It was appalling to my feelings that there was no 
 escape. While lying at St. Johns,, we had an opportunity of seeing more 
 of Captain Yeo s detestable character. No spiritous liquors were allowed to 
 
OF AMERICANS. 277 
 
 be brought on board. This, of course, was a good regulation. It was the 
 custom to hoist in the boat at night, lest any should elude the guard, and 
 steal away in the boat. One evening as the boat was hoisted in, a bottle of 
 rum was discovered in it ! Not one of the boat s crew would own that 
 bottle. Next morning the whole six were seized at the gang- way, and their 
 ehirts stripped off; each receiving a dozen lashes on his bare back, with a 
 cat-o -nine-tails. He had a number of men in irons during the entire 
 passage to England. We arrived in Plymouth the last of November, 1781, 
 after a short but rough passage ; and though we had been several times 
 called to quarters, through a kind providence, neither Willis nor myself 
 were stailpned at any quarters. On arriving at the land of my forefathers, 
 I confess to peculiar sensation of reverence and solemnity, not to be 
 described. Yet when I remembered the haughtiness, obstinacy, and cruelty 
 of her monarch, I felt an indignant, if not a revengeful spirit. Several days 
 passed without a probpect of release. In less than a week three times as 
 many women as men came on board, and the number daily increased. The 
 worthy carpenter proposed, that in case I could not get released, to adopt 
 me as his son. He had a wife, I think, in Bristol, but no child. He could, 
 if he pleased, quit the ship, and work in the navy yard. I felt duly grateful 
 for the offer, but signified my earnest desire to get to America again. While 
 in port we lived high, which was very joyful to me, after long famine and 
 hardships. Captain Yeo, the disgusting tyrant, took leave of the ship, with 
 out the least mark of respect from anybody. 
 
 The ship was now preparing for another cruise. The new captain (whose 
 name I regret that I cannot recall), came on board, and was saluted with 
 three cheers. There seemed to be a possibility that my friend Willis and 
 myself might find favor with him. A day or two after he came on board, 
 Mr. Fox, the carpenter, said to me : " Sherburne, the captain is walking 
 alone on the quarter-deck ; I think it a good time for you to go and speak 
 to him : it may be he will consider you a prisoner of war." I trembled for 
 fear of being unsuccessful : I felt a strange balancing between hope and 
 despair, for it was oui last chance ; and if we failed, our fate was sealed : 
 unless Mr. Fox could j,et discharged from the ship, and take me with him ; 
 and even then I wou^d be considered a British subject. I immediately 
 made known my plan W) Willis, and as there was no time to lose, requested 
 him to accompany me. With our hats under our arms, we addressed the cap 
 tain in a tremulous voice. He seemed willing to give us a hearing. " What 
 is your wish, my lads?" said he. "We are American prisoners," said I, 
 "and were taken on the coast of Newfoundland, and imprisoned all the last 
 summer in Placentia ; and in September, were put on board his majesty s 
 ship, Duchess of Cumberland, for St. Johns, expecting to have been sent 
 from thence to Boston, and be exchanged ; but the Duchess of Cumberland 
 was lost on Cape St. Marys, soon after she sailed. We were again taken to 
 Placentia, and put on board this ship. It is our wish, sir, to be considered 
 prisoners of war, and go to prison." The captain replied, " You may go for 
 ward, my lads, and I will inquire into your case." We bowed, and re 
 tired. Mr. Fox anxiously waited for our return. In about half an hour, 
 word came for Sherburne and Willis to get ready to go into the boat. We 
 were ready to leap with joy that we were to have the honor of going to 
 
278 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 prison. I saw tears in Mr. Fox s eye, and they ran down my cheeks freely. 
 He gave me shirts and stockings, and we parted. A midshipman accom 
 panied us in the boat, sword in hand, and a sergeant with several marines, 
 with fixed bayonets ; and we left the Fairy in Plymouth Sound, and were 
 put on board the Dunkirk, which lay near Plymouth Dock. All prisoners 
 that were brought into port, were put on board this guard-ship. I had been 
 on board but a few minutes before I fell in with an English lad, who was 
 my former shipmate. His name was William Lamb. He was captured .11 
 the Ranger, in which I made my first venture. He had been captured four 
 times by the British, and deserted, assuming different names each time. 
 This information he gave me in a whisper, begging me, " for God s sake 
 don t call me by name, as I have assumed one." I was grieved for the poor 
 fellow, who was- much respected by his comrades. I knew if he were de 
 tected in all this he would be hung at the yardarm. 
 
 There were no American prisoners on board the Dunkirk when we went 
 on board of her, but in a few days a dozen or more came in ; and scarcely a 
 night passed in which additions were not made by the press-gangs. These 
 gangs are sturdy villians, and sometimes got a severe drubbing from their 
 prisoners, who often got shockingly bruised. The prisoners first brought on 
 board, were called for in a day or two, and sent ashore to pass an examina 
 tion before the judges of the admiralty, previous to commitment to Old 
 Mill Prison. I was surprised and alarmed that those who came on board 
 subsequent to us, preceded us in going to prison, having understood that the 
 order would be in rotation, and had reason to believe vengeance was in store 
 for us. At length we mustered courage to go to the office, and ask why we 
 were not sent ashore in turn. The clerk asked what vessel we were of, and 
 our names. He knew nothing about us ! Our very souls began to sink. 
 We now feared that we might be put aboard another man-of-war. We 
 went again to the office. The clerk was a true man, and a gentleman, and 
 he promised to make diligent search for our names. 
 
 We had lost all our clothing except what we had on ; everything else had 
 been stolen. The ship was so near the shore that it was impossible to pre 
 vent spirits being brought aboard, so that it was an indescribable scene of 
 drinking, swearing, fighting, stealing, brawling, scolding, and confusion, 
 especially at night. A dozen more prisoners were now brought on board, 
 arid when the time came to send the prisoners ashore, we were greatly 
 rejoiced to hear our names called first. There were thirteen of us ordered 
 on board a boat, and we were landed at Plymouth Dock, said to be the best 
 in England. I had an opportunity of viewing the Royal George, the 
 largest ship in the navy. We were escorted from the wharf to the Court of 
 Admiralty by a guard of soldiers, and conducted into a room by ourselves. 
 Here we waited some time in awful suspense. It was a trying scene to 
 endure. The judges, in their examinations, were careful to select English 
 men and Irishmen for his majesty s service ; but sometimes Americans were 
 challenged and sent on board ships of war, as British subjects. The judges 
 were elderly gentlemen, with white wigs. My examination came : 
 
 " Is your name Andrew Sherburne ? " " It is, sir." " Where were you 
 born?" "In Portsmouth, New Hampshire, North America." "What is 
 your age ? " "I was sixteen the last day of September, sir." " What was 
 
OF AMERICANS. 279 
 
 your father s name?" "Andrew Sherburne." "What was his occupa 
 tion?" "A carpenter." "What vessel did you sail in." "The privateer 
 schooner Greyhound." " How many guns did she mount ?" " Eight five- 
 pounders." " Who commanded her ? " " Captain John Willis." " Where 
 did she belong?" "To Salem, Massachusetts." "When did she, leave 
 Salem ? " " Some time in the month of April last." " What were you 
 taken in ?" " I was taken in a Newfoundland shallop, a prize to the Grey 
 hound." " By what were you taken?" " A small armed schooner from 
 Fortune Bay, in Newfoundland." " Where were you taken to?" "We 
 were first taken to a place called Grand Bank, in Fortune Bay ; thence we 
 were sent to Placentia, and imprisoned in the garrison till September. I 
 was then put on board his majesty s ship, the Duchess of Cumberland, bound 
 to St. Johns, and she having been lost on Cape St. Marys, I returned with 
 part of the crew to Placentia, where I was put on board his majesty s ship, 
 Fairy, and brought to this port." " How many are there of you ?" "Only 
 two, sir ; three were put on board of merchantmen, at Placentia." After 
 this catechising, I was conducted back to my companions, when Willis was 
 called in, who went through a similar ordeal. When all had been ex 
 amined, I was called the second time, and most of the questions repeated. 
 This much alarmed me. One of the judges asked a gentleman in another 
 part of the room, whether my statement agreed with what I said before ; to 
 which he assented. I heard a pen going during my examination, but did 
 not know that they were writing down my answers. I felt fearful of a 
 snare ; but it proved more favorable than I expected. The other twelve 
 were now called in, and the judges pronounced the awful sentence, that we 
 all be committed to Old Mill Prison, for rebellion, piracy, and high treason, 
 on his Britannic majesty s high-seas, there to remain during his majesty s 
 pleasure, or till he saw fit to pardon or otherwise dispose of us ! 
 
 At the door, a guard now conducted us to prison. It was a mile and 
 a-half distant. I had not walked so much on land since my dreary march 
 through the wilderness of Newfoundland. I felt a high degree of anima 
 tion that my prospects were so favorable as a residence in Old Mill Prison ! 
 The outer gate groaned on its hinges, and received us in the outer yard, 
 where a sentinel always stood. 
 
 Old " Aunt Annie " was constantly here, with her hand-cart, drawn by a 
 boy, and supplied the prisoners with bread, butter, tobacco, needles, thread, 
 and such nick-nacs as we needed. Several milkmen also took stations here. 
 Before the inner gate opened, we heard a shout from within, "More 
 prisoners! more prisoners!" The inner gate then opened, well guarded 
 by soldiers with fixed bayonets. We were urged forward into the great 
 prison yard, while the inmates rushed from all directions to see if there 
 were any acquaintance among the new-comers. One and another would 
 seize us by the hand, saying, "How are ye ? Where are ye from ?" No 
 one presumed to intrude on the little groups collected from particular locali 
 ties. I found a number from my own vicinity in New Hampshire. 
 
 It was now near night. I had tasted nothing since morning, and found I 
 had got to a hungry place. One of my townsmen brought me a penny roll 
 and a halfpenny worth of butter, which was very acceptable. It was 
 January, and my clothing was in a forlorn condition. Next day my towns- 
 
280 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 man gave me a few articles. Though in his British majesty s dominions, 
 the prisoners ventured to form themselves into a republic, framed a constitu 
 tion of wholesome laws with suitable penalties. My friends held a consul 
 tation concerning my hard case. One spoke on this fashion, " It will be a 
 pity if our young countryman should spend his time, as many boys do, at 
 gaming : he is fatherless, and needs education. Perhaps he might be pre 
 vailed on to go to school." Another replied, " If he will, I will give him 
 some papers." Another, " I will give him quills and ink." Another, 
 (afterward Captain Tibbetts), " I will undertake to instruct him." A com 
 mittee conferred, and communicated to me their conclusion, and advised me 
 to accept these offers. Grateful for such benevolence, though fond of cards, 
 I forthwith repudiated them, and accepted their advice. I made rapid im 
 provement, and soon became indifferent to all kinds of gaming, finding 
 sufficient amusement in my studies. 
 
 Mill Prison took its name from windmills originally occupying the 
 eminence near Plymouth Dock. According to tradition, one of the three 
 buildings comprised in Mill Prison, was built in the reign of Queen Ann. 
 The largest building was one hundred feet long, and twenty wide, and two 
 stories high, built of stone, with no windows on the north front. Between 
 this building and the commissary s office (which had no windows at the 
 east end), there was a space of some twenty feet. A wall on the north, as 
 high as the eaves of the prison, extended from the prison to the office. 
 A wall on the south joined the two buildings. Through this wall a gate 
 led to the main yard. South of the yard was the cook-room, on the ground- 
 floor. A space between the two prisons formed a yard for both. On the 
 south of the common yard was a stone wall fourteen feet high, with broken 
 glass bottles set in mortar, to prevent climbing. A similar wall was on the 
 east. The whole included half an acre. In this yard was a lamp-post, and 
 near the cook-room, a good pump. The reasons for this minute description 
 will be hereafter apparent. There were one or two sentinels in the yard by 
 day at night, at least four ; as many outside, and four in the long prison, 
 with a proportionate number in the other prisons. The whole number of 
 American prisoners was from eight -hundred to one thousand. There had 
 been no release or exchange since the war began, and some had been in 
 prison seven years. Numbers had escaped, and some shipped on board his 
 majesty s ships, which absolved them from " rebellion and piracy." 
 
 At an early period it was found necessary to adopt some government for 
 the prisoners. If any one transgressed, he had a legal trial,. and was 
 punished. There had been some cases of tying to the lamp-post, and 
 administering a dozen lashes on the bare back. The food was tolerable, but 
 we had not half enough. The portion was about twelve ounces of bread, 
 and twelve ounces of beef a day. At eleven each day, we drew a three 
 pound loaf to each mess. It was made of rye, oats, barley, and peas. In 
 compliment to King George, it was called " Brown George." One divided 
 the loaf in quarters, another would turn his back, and another, in the 
 presence of the rest, touched a piece, saying to him who turned his back, 
 " Who shall have that ? " till the four pieces were disposed of. Many dis 
 putes took place about the division of beef, which was weighed out to the 
 cook in the gross, with an allowance to turn the scale for each mess. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 281 
 
 Some were employed in making punch-paddles, of apple-wood, which 
 sold for nearly half a guinea ; wooden spoons, busks, and knitting-sheaths, 
 curiously wrought. One taught navigation, another made nets for drying 
 glue. Ship-building was also extensively carried on ; I doubt not there are 
 ships in England, built in Mill Prison, though not large enough for priva 
 teering ! One prisoner, from Salem, exceeded all others in inventive skill. 
 He built a ship a foot long, which he sold for four guineas. He built also a 
 three-decker, which he sold for twenty guineas ! It was some four feet 
 long, with three tiers of guns, anchors on her bows, and cable bent. By 
 pulling gently on one cable, the ports on one deck would all fly open ; by 
 pulling another, the guns would all run out of the ports. The effect was 
 the same on the other decks. This curious work occupied about two 
 years ! 
 
 Dr. Franklin was then our minister at the Court of France. Previous to 
 my arrival, he furnished each prisoner a shilling sterling a week ; but it was 
 difficult for him to obtain funds, and this donation would often be discon 
 tinued for weeks. Various plans were used to get the news. Strange to 
 tell, a newspaper would sometimes be obtained in a loaf of bread. News of 
 the capture of Cornwallis was obtained in this way. The prisoners were 
 greatly animated on this eventful occasion ; and a number furnished them 
 selves with the American ensign, painted on a half sheet of paper, with the 
 British flag also painted below the Union ; and sticking this into their hat 
 bands, they paraded the prison yard, huzzaing so boisterously as to alarm 
 the commissary. His name was Cowdray, a petulant old fellow, whom the 
 prisoners, especially those from Marblehead, took pleasure in affronting. 
 Tho whole guard came into the yard, and some of the prisoners had the 
 hardihood to insult them, and dared them to fire on them ; but through the 
 interposition of some of the American officers, the ult subsided. 
 
 Every evening before sundown a guard came into the yard and ordered 
 every man into the prison. They were counted as they walked leisurely 
 in, and the doors were then locked. One evening a prisoner in the upper 
 story threw a bone, which he had been picking, out of the window through 
 the iron bars, and it happened to fall on a sentinel s head. He immediately 
 stepped up to the lower window, and fired up through the floor, the ball 
 entering a hammock in which a sick man lay. The report of the musket 
 brought the whole guard into the yard. The prisoners were greatly enraged, 
 and swore they would kill that soldier if he over appeared again on guard. 
 
 A dozen prisoners made their escape one night. They contrived to get 
 through the grates of the chamber of the long prison, by putting a beam 
 from the window obliquely, so as to reach a small out-house near the wall 
 of the adjacent yard, and then lashing hammocks together, lowered them 
 selves from the beam into the yard. They were never brought back again, 
 as was often the case. When deserters were caught, f hoy were doomed to 
 suffer in the "dark hole" certain days, and were also liable to be impressed 
 on board a man-of-war. 
 
 In the gate through the prison wall was a hole large enough to pass "water- 
 cans through it, but not large enough for a man to get through, unless he 
 were very small. Every morning it was necessary to number as many 
 persons out, as they had the previous evening. A good deal of ingenuity 
 
282 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 was therefore required by the prisoners to conceal a fraud. A number of 
 boys were in prison, and dependence was placed on those to make up for the 
 escapades. A group of prisoners first out stationed themselves about the 
 gate, and a lad was crowded through the hole and received inside, and he 
 would go in the end door, and present himself at the fore door, and b 1 
 numbered the second time. Then a second lad would be crowded through 
 the hole, and a third, and so on. He would wear a cap, or go in bare- 
 headed. Sometimes they would borrow a boy or two who had been num 
 bered out of some other part of the prison. The poor fellows would oftef 
 get prodigiously squeezed, in passing through the hole, but their squalling 
 was drowned by the boisterous laugh and shout set up for that purpose 
 This may be called a " Yankee trick," and it was played over and over, 
 until many of our friends had an opportunity to escape, or evade a hated 
 regiment that might in turn be on guard. How all these escapes could be 
 made, with sentries continually on guard, was to me most astonishing. It 
 must be set down to Yankee enterprise. At length, however, the aforesaid 
 hated guard came on, and there was no more squeezing through that hole ! 
 " There was no small stir." What had become of thirteen prisoners ! 
 These must have represented the thirteen States, never recovered ! 
 
 " The British king 
 Lost States thirteen." 
 
 Colonel Laurens, of Charleston, was then our minister to Holland. On 
 his way thither he was captured as a rebel, and imprisoned in the Tower o* 
 London. After the capture of Cornwallis, he was released on a parole o f 
 honor, and he visited Mill Prison. The prisoners considered this a higl 
 honor, and treated him with great respect. 
 
 I diligently pursued my studies in navigation, but in the spring it becami 
 very sickly among the prisoners. At length I was taken ill myself. Mj 
 distress was so great I could not assist others, as I had been accustomed tc 
 do. My sight left me. One morning, surrounded by neighbors, I remember 
 hearing some one say, " Sherburne is out of his head ! " I was ordered to 
 the hospital, where I was partially deranged several weeks. I was fearful 
 I should not recover, and great was my horror of mind. My numerous 
 deliverances from shipwreck and so many other perils, all came up before 
 me, with all my forgotten vows to become religious my solemn promises 
 to God, my deliverer ! I was weighed and " found wanting ! " 
 
 There was a person called " Uncle " Laurence, in the hospital. He went 
 in at an early period, and while there, became a convert to the Christian 
 religion. The physicians had great confidence in him, and he had the 
 respect of all. However tyrannical and inhuman the British government 
 was in some respects, they are to be praised for the provision they made for 
 the sick in Mill Prison. 
 
 When it pleased God to restore my reason, I was so weak as to be unable 
 to raise myself in bed, and mended slowly. One day two friends said, " Sher 
 burne, why do you lie here ? Come, you must get up ! " I told them I 
 could not. " We will help you," said they ; " The doctor has directed us 
 to help you." They got my clothes on, and made out to get me into the 
 ard, holding me by the arms, but I fainted, and was carried back to mv 
 
OF AMERICANS. 283 
 
 ccuch. The next day I was taken out again, and was able to stand, with 
 the help of a staff. 
 
 About this time news had been received, that the ship " Lady s Adven 
 ture " had got into Plymouth Sound to take home an exchange of prisoners 
 The joy among the prisoners was indescribable. To raise my spirits, the 
 good doctor told me the ship would take us to our country, and wou.d sail 
 in three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care of myself that I 
 might go in her. This ship was bound to Boston ; and in a week or two, 
 another was going to Philadelphia ; and in a few weeks, another would take 
 the remaining prisoners to some United States port. The time finally 
 arrived for the doctor to discharge all who had sufficiently recovered. 
 Everyone went to his own bed, and sat till the doctor passed by him. He 
 passed me pleasantly, but did not take down my name ! My heart sank 
 within me. I rose and followed him, and as he was about leaving the 
 hospital, said, " Doctor, I believe you have not got my name." He 
 replied, " God bless you, my son, it will never do for you to think of leav 
 ing the hospital in your situation ! You are more fit to enter than leave it." 
 " Sir," said I, deeply grieved, "you promised that I should go in this ship !" 
 He replied, " I was in hopes you would be able, but you are so sick that it 
 will never do : you would not live to get outside of the Eddystone : four 
 hundred are going ; you will be crowded, and will die. I would be happy 
 to discharge you, but AVC have had a hard time in raising you, and would be 
 sorry to lose you now, through your own imprudence. You would never 
 live to see America, and your blood would be on my h.ead. There is 
 another ship going in a week or two, and I am in hopes you will be strong 
 enough to go have patience." "But, sir," said I, "that ship is going to 
 Philadelphia, and I should be a great way from home." "No matter for 
 that, you will be in your own country," said the doctor. "But all my 
 acquaintance and townsmen are going in this ship, and she is going near my 
 home, and if I do not go in her I shall never get home." " Uncle Laurence," 
 and twenty others, were listening to our conversation, and tears ran down 
 his manly face ; and the reader can judge how it was with me. Uncle 
 Laurence then said, "Doctor, I don t know but you may as well discharge 
 him ; and as I go in the same ship, I give my word that I will pay par 
 ticular attention to him." " well, then," said the good doctor, " I will 
 venture to discharge him ; I can trust him in your care, and hope he will do 
 well : but if he dies, his blood must be upon his own head." " 0, sir," said 
 I, " The sea always agrees with me, and I believe I should gain faster on 
 shipboard than here." That same day, we were guarded from the hospital 
 to the prison ! 
 
 When our company entered the prison yard, the first townsman who 
 
 spoke to me was John B r, a "respectable" young man, but would have 
 
 been considerably more so if less intemperate and profane. "Why, d n 
 ye, Sherburne, are you alive ? We heard you were dead. Why, I thought 
 
 the d 1 had got you before this time ! We did n t know but you might 
 
 go to heaven ! Why, they said Sherburne was as crazy as the d 1 down 
 
 there in the hospital, and that he prayed like a minister. I did n t know 
 but that you might have gone to heaven." I knew not that a creature in 
 existence ever heard me pray ; and if I had been detected in the grosses 
 
284: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 villainy I could not have been more mortified. Alas ! that such should be 
 the depravity of human nature, as to think it shame to show reverence for 
 God, or any regard as to the eternal welfare of the immortal soul ! I hurried 
 out of his sight as quick as possible. 
 
 The time now came to embark for our native land. All was life and joy 
 on this happy occasion. Some had been absent six years. I felt quite 
 revived at my prospects, and made out to walk a little with two canes, and 
 had to be put on board. My Portsmouth friends released my good friend 
 Laurence from his charge. The ship s crew had but little to do, for there 
 were many smart sailors among the prisoners, and it was mere diversion for 
 them to work the ship. 
 
 We had not been out many days before there was a revolution. His 
 majesty allowed us only two-thirds of our provision, of which there was a 
 great plenty on board. We Yankees were determined to have enough to 
 eat ; and as we had a number of native American officers, a plan was con 
 cocted, and at a certain signal, all were to rush on the quarter-deck, and 
 seize the helm ; and our officers were to inform the captain we had com 
 mand of his ship. Their number being less than fifty, no resistance was 
 made to four hundred men. All we wanted was a full allowance ; and 
 having obtained it, the ship was given up to Captain Humble. We had a 
 long, though pleasant voyage. The ship was ordered to Boston ; but, as 
 there was a very large proportion ot prisoners belonging to Marblehead, it 
 was insisted by our friends that we should land at that place, Willis and 
 myself among the rest. 
 
 Thus, by the mercy of God, after an eventful absence of fifteen months, 
 we set foot once more on our dear native land. To me it was a theme of 
 unceasing astonishment to call up in review the various changing scenes 
 through which I had passed,, since I first went on board the Greyhound. 
 No high coloring has been attempted in these simple sketches : Simplicity 
 and truth need not " the foreign aid of ornaments." Many were the shocks 
 I have received in my wayward pilgrimage, but every shock has eventually 
 tended to settle me. 
 
 It was now two years since I landed at Rhode Island from Charleston. 
 I then had a guardian : now I had none ; and what was worse, I was penniless. 
 However, I remembered that the adventurers of the Greyhound had 
 appointed an agent, a Mr. Foster, of Salem, where I found him. But he 
 knew nothing about us personally, though our names had been sent to him. 
 He was, therefore, very inquisitive, for Willis and I had entered the priva 
 teer, after she left Salem. During the conversation, who should enter the 
 room but Lieutenant Tucker, of the Greyhound ! It was some time before 
 we recognized him, for his appearance was much more genteel now than 
 formerly. From him we ascertained that nothing was known of our fate : 
 it was supposed we were all lost at sea, a most natural conclusion. The 
 Greyhound had taken a valuable prize, an English brig with a fine cargo, 
 bound to Quebec, which was taken to Salem. The Greyhound was after 
 ward captured, and taken to Halifax, but her prisoners, after a short confine 
 ment, were exchanged, and all got home safely. Our share of the prize was 
 63 sterling, each. Mine had been drawn by a power of attorney which I 
 left with my mother. Willis father had drawn his, so that nothing was 
 
OF AMERICANS. 285 
 
 coming. Lieutenant Tucker and Mr. Foster, however, had the kindness to 
 give us each two or three dollars to bear our expenses home. 
 
 We then took leave of our generous friends, and betook to our journey 
 with pleasure indescribable. For a year and a quarter we had been com 
 panions in travel and suffering, and we never fell out by the way. With no 
 company but ourselves, we took a full view of the eventful arid sorrowful 
 past. The gloomy scenes we had escaped afforded a pleasing offset to our 
 anticipated joys of seeing kindred and friends once more. The light and 
 shade of this picture were in striking and most delightful contrast. 
 
 To my mother, sisters, and brethren, I was as one rose from the dead ; 
 for, till recently, they had despaired of ever seeing me more. Some of my 
 associates who were ahead of me, gave them information of my being on 
 the way. This might be for the best ; for though I did not reach my home 
 to them unexpectedly, my poor mother was almost frantic with joy, and 
 literally cried out, " This my son that was dead is alive again ; he was lost 
 and is found ! " And so they all " began to be merry." It was a joyous 
 time of smiles and tears ! Tears ! for my mother was yet a mourner for 
 her first born son, Thomas. Alas ! his fate was never known ! Smiles ! 
 for her other son had returned, and my mother had "received him safe and 
 sound." 
 
 My friend Willis tarried with me one night. In the morning I accom 
 panied him to the wharf, where he found a coaster for Saco, four miles from 
 Cape Porpoise, where he lived. We parted ; and never again met ! 
 
 Nothing could be more entertaining to my friends and brethren, than to 
 hear Andrew tell his stories of his checkered life. In all this there may 
 have been ambition and vanity. But men who have patience to read these 
 pages, will remember that they*were once boys. 
 
 But however interesting it might be to narrate my " hair-breadth scapes 
 in the imminent, deadly breach," and of being " taken by the insolent foe," 
 this business would not do to live by. My health was now good. I had 
 ambition, and was still in the prime of youth. It became a question with 
 me what I should do. To beg I was ashamed ; to dig I had almost for 
 gotten. It was two years since I had landed at Rhode Island, from Charles 
 ton. After a full deliberation, it was decided that I must needs try the 
 sea again. 
 
 A brig named the Scorpion, was to sail for the West Indies, commanded 
 by my good friend and tutor in Mill Prison, R. S. Tibbitts. This brig was 
 soon ready for sea, and I left my mother and sisters again in tears. When 
 out five days, we were descried by one of his most gracious majesty s 
 frigates, the Bee, of sixteen guns, which came within a mile of us. We 
 managed our vessel in a most masterly style, and finally escaped. This 
 extraordinary chase and maneuvering must have been deeply interesting to 
 a looker-on. It was my first voyage to the West Indies. We touched at 
 Gaudaloupe and Montserrat. It was repugnant to my feelings to see the 
 hungry and almost naked slaves sinking under their burdens, and suffering 
 from the cruel scourges of their drivers. Some had iron collars round their 
 necks, with four hooks, each fifteen to twenty inches long one over each 
 shoulder, one before, and one behind. Others had a heavy chain fastened 
 to the leg ; and sometimes two persons were cnained together. Children 
 
286 -ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 were entirely naked. Men had no clothing but a coarse apron, reaching a 
 little above the knees ; and females had nothing but an apology for a petti 
 coat of coarse stuff. The women could balance a tub of water, or a lar^e 
 Dasket of fruit, or of bottles, without putting their hands to them. Having 
 discharged our cargo, and taken the proceeds in West India produce, we 
 sailed for Alexandria, Virginia. On approaching the coast of Virginia, we 
 had a terrific gale. In the morning we saw three large ships within a few 
 miles of us, and we soon perceived they had experienced hard times as 
 well as ourselves. We had no doubt they were British men-of-war. They 
 made chase, and gained on us fast. We got out our long oars, and rowed 
 all day, and made prodigious efforts to get out of the way, flying for dear 
 life, not taking time even to eat. Night coming on, and the wind increas 
 ing, we could not use the oars to advantage. We made all sail we could, 
 however. At midnight we hove about, hoping to escape our pursuers. We 
 did, indeed ; but alas ! they were not our only enemies ; for at two o clock 
 we fell in with another of his most gracious majesty s ships, the Amphion, of 
 forty guns. We were now standing directly for each other. As soon as we 
 discovered her, we hove about ; but all in vain, for we were within musket- 
 shot ! It was said of the ancient Amphion, that by the music of his harp 
 he built Thebes, the city of the hundred gates. The music of the modern 
 Amphion was not so charming, but it was certainly powerfully telling ; for 
 though she failed to bring us to by firing muskets, her heavy cannon did the 
 work up most musically. To be within two days sail of port, after all our 
 hardships and imprisonment ! and to find all our hopes so nearly accom 
 plished ! In a word, I had fallen into the hands of the enemy the third 
 time, in addition to numerous shipwrecks ! I had barely escaped with my 
 life from two imprisonments, and now my prospects were darker than ever ! 
 It was now the middle of November, 1782, and about a year since my 
 release from the Fairy, in Plymouth Sound. Thirteen of us (a representa 
 tive number), were put on board the Amphion, and stowed in the cable tiers 
 under two decks, where we found a hundred more of our countrymen who 
 had fallen into their clutches. There we were, crowded almost to suffoca 
 tion, with nothing to lie down on but cables. We might as well hope to 
 sleep on a pile of split-wood. We remained in this select apartment for 
 two miserable weeks, when we were overtaken by no small tempest, but 
 finally reached New York. But, horror of horrors ! it was only to be 
 put on board the floating Bastile that thrice-accursed contrivance of fiends 
 incarnate the Old Jersey Prison,- Ship \ The very name is enough to send 
 a chill of terror through the soul. It is one of the fittest types of the in 
 fernal regions on a medium scale that Satan could invent, if that which I 
 call a type be not a branch of the same business in which devils are 
 employed. 
 
 When I was imprisoned in the Old Jersey, it was toward the last of 
 November, 1782, and I had just entered my eighteenth year. I now com 
 menced a scene of suffering almost without a parallel. The ship was 
 extremely filthy, and abounded with vermin. A large proportion of the 
 prisoners had been robbed of their clothes. The ship was much crowded ; 
 the prisoners were low-spirited ; it would have been a miracle if otherwise , 
 and our provisions were horribly bad, and scanty. The beef was very salt. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 287 
 
 the bread worm-eaten, and had been condemned in the British Navy. The 
 bread (so-called for want of a name), had been so eaten by weevils, that one 
 might crush it in his hand and blow it away. The prisoners were divided 
 into messes, and each mess made a division among themselves of the pro 
 visions that fell to them. The beef, as it was called, was all put into a 
 copper five feet square and four deep, and would fill it within a few inches. 
 The copper was then filled with water, and the cover put on. Our fuel was 
 green chesnut. The cook would light his fire at seven or eight in the morn 
 ing. Sometimes he could not make the cauldron boil till twelve o clock, 
 and in stormy weather, it would take till three o clock ! I have known it 
 not to boil during the whole day. It was 
 
 " Double, double, toil and trouble, 
 Fire burn, aud cauldron bubble." 
 
 But it may be doubted whether "flesh of dog obscene," and Gipsey cookery, 
 couid out-do the meat in our celebrated "cauldron." It was like the 
 kitchen of the infernal regions if such a thing may be imagined. Yet bad 
 as our food was, we could not have it without infinite trouble and vexation. 
 This might be owing to the stupidity of the cooks, who were superseded bv 
 others in such cases. These unfortunate delays caused bitter complaints 
 and heavy curses by the miserable, half-starved, emaciated, and imperious 
 prisoners. Maddened with hunger each mess would take its meat, and 
 divide it as it was. A murmur would be heard in every mess, and from 
 every tongue. The cook was denounced ; and perhaps declined any further 
 service ; another would volunteer, and in a few days, meet the same fate. 
 There was a company of prisoners called " the working party," who brought 
 water, fuel, provisions, etc. They, like the cooks, served a certain time, 
 and had the privilege of being first exchanged as prisoners. 
 
 There were several hospital or prison-ships lying at the Wallabout during 
 the Kevolution the Whitby, the Scorpion, the Strombolo, the Hunter, and 
 the Frederick; but the Old Jersey has acquired the most satanic renown 
 in history. These Ships of Death were anchored about one hundred feet 
 apart, and about the same distance from the beach. On both sides of 
 Wallabout Bay, many human bones have been found. The late General 
 Johnson, who resided in the vicinity all his lifetime, has often passed along 
 the shore after a northeasterly storm, and "seen human skulls as thick as 
 pumpkins in a field." He " examined the teeth, and found them those of 
 young men." Nearly twelve thousand prisoners were poisoned, starved, or 
 died of fevers on board of those prison-ships. It is probable that five or six 
 thousand more died from ill-treatment and famine in the churches and sugar 
 houses of New York, and at various naval stations. Those who were buried 
 at the Wallabout, were sewed in their blankets. Those who died in the 
 prisons of New York, were cast into the dead-carts at the prison doors, as 
 they died, and were often stripped before they were buried in the pits pre 
 pared for that purpose. Many prisoners were barbarously exiled to the East 
 Indies for life. 
 
 When I had been about a month on board, to my astonishment, my uncle, 
 James Weymouth, who was captured with me at Charleston, S. C., was 
 brought on board ! He also had been on a voyage to the West Indies, and 
 
288 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 was captured on his way home. It was with mingled sorrow and joy that 
 we met on board this dismal ship. The Old Jersey was dismantled, and 
 had no rudder or sails. The British ensign waved from a flag-staff at her 
 stern. At ebb-tide the bottom of this infernal hulk could be seen ; and a 
 most dreary and revolting spectacle of horror it was. Mr. Weymouth was 
 one of my best friends. I desired to place him on the list with Bowers, 
 Fox, Tibbitts, and others, who bestowed so much care on me in Mill 
 Prison, and on board the Ladies Adventure. The British were at this time 
 so strong in New York, and their vessels were so numerous, that they 
 scoured our whole coast, and exceedingly annoyed our commerce. In the 
 fore part of the winter, they captured the frigate Chesapeake, of about 
 thirty guns, with about three hundred prisoners. About the time they 
 were brought on board, the prison-ships were all excessively crowded. The 
 prisoners from the chesapeake, being fresh hands, and only a few hours at 
 sea before they were captured, died very rapidly. The contrast between a 
 healthful mode of living on land, and the horrors of the prison-ship, would, 
 of course, be the more speedily fatal to those who had suffered hardships 
 for the shortest time. I have described the bread and meat we had, which 
 a dog would refuse to eat in good times. In addition to this salt meat and 
 wormy bread, we had a mess of what was called bungoo, or mush, made 01 
 oat-meal and water, something like Yankee hasty-pudding, only it was not. 
 This oat-meal was musty and bitter, and none who did not suffer from 
 hunger as we did, could make out to eat it at all. Most of the prisoners, 
 however, had some money when captured, and as there were boats alongside 
 every day from the city, when the weather permitted, by this means soul 
 and body were kept together a little longer, in the case of those who lived 
 at all. As long as one s money lasted, he could have better fare than his 
 most gracious majesty would allow. I had five or six dollars when 
 captured, and used this pittance with the most rigid economy. Among the 
 large quantities of provisions brought from the city, were livers of cattle, 
 well boiled, chopped fine, and seasoned with pepper and salt, and filled into 
 the small intestines of animals : a piece seven to nine inches long was sold 
 for six cents. The most of my limited exchequer went for these meat 
 puddings, and for bread. 
 
 In January, 1783, I was taken sick and sent from the Old Jersey on 
 board of the Frederick hospital-ship. It was a most distressing time for my 
 self and uncle, who had but a few dollars, and my money was now all gone. 
 We were so much crowded that two sick persons had to lie in one bunk. I 
 was put in with a young man named Wills, of Ipswich, Massachusetts. The 
 bunk was set fore and aft, directly under the ballast-port, opposite the main 
 hatchway. Wills was of a pleasant yet serious turn, and was persuaded he 
 should die. My mind was confused and agitated, and occasionally de 
 ranged. My bed-fellow was running down very fast, though I was not at 
 the time aware of it. For want of room, we were often obliged to lie 
 athwart each other. I found the poor fellow very accommodating. He had 
 his reason till he became speechless, and finally died, stretched over mo ! 
 A death in that place excited little attention. Not a day passed without 
 one or more deaths. I have seen seven who died in one night, drawn out 
 and piled together on the lower hatchway of the Frederick. There were 
 
OF AMERICANS. 289 
 
 about a dozen nurses for this ship for an average of one hundred sick. 
 Whatever property the prisoners left, fell into their hands. If the deceased 
 had a good head of hair, it was cut off and sold. The depravity of the 
 human heart was as fully exhibited in these nurses as any other class of men. 
 Some, if not all of them, were prisoners, and I believe they had some com 
 pensation from the British Government for their services. They would 
 .tidulge in playing cards and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for 
 water and dying. Many of them were among the sick during the greater 
 part of the day ; but at night, the hatches were shut down and locked ; and 
 not the least attention was then paid to them, except by the convalescent, 
 who were so frequently called upon, that they often relapsed and died, 
 from over-exertion. After Mr. Wills, my bedfellow, was dead, I called the 
 nurses to remove him, as his body lay across me, so that I could not relieve 
 myself : but they gave me only hard words, and curses, and let him re 
 main nearly an hour. It was a great mercy they did not take away the two 
 blankets we had under us, a great-coat, and a little straw in a sack ; yet even 
 with these I suffered extremely from cold. The reader will form some idea 
 of my dreadful sufferings when I state, that I frequently toiled nearly all 
 night by rubbing my hands and legs to keep them from freezing. Some 
 times I would almost give up in despair, but again feel excited to renew my 
 exertions. In consequence of these severe chills, I have worn a laced stock 
 ing for nearly thirty years. My bunk was directly against the ballast-port, 
 which was not caulked ; and when there was a snow-storm, the snow blew 
 through on my bed three or four inches deep. This was one advantage, as 
 I could otherwise get no water to quench my thirst. A gill of very poor 
 wine and twelve ounces of sour, musty bread, was the daily allowance for 
 the sick. There was a small sheet-iron stove between decks, but the fuel 
 was green and scarce ; but as there were always a number of peevish, surly 
 fellows around it, I never had an opportunity to sit by it; though I was 
 generally lucky enough to get some- one to lay a slice of bread on it for 
 toasting, to put into my wine and water. We sometimes failed to get our 
 wine for several successive days ; and though we had the promise of its 
 being made up to us, the promise was seldom kept, as might be expected. 
 With the little money my uncle gave me, I sent ashore by one of the 
 nurses and bought a tin pint-cup, a spoon, a few oranges, and a pound or 
 two of sugar ; but I question if I got the worth of my money. The cup, 
 however, was of infinite service. We were always careful to get our cups 
 full of water before the hatches were shut down for the night, though we 
 often had great difficulty in getting even this small favor, as the water was 
 not easily got out of the casks which were frozen up. At the close of the 
 day, a dozen would apply for water at one time, and I was frequently 
 obligsd to plead hard to get my cup filled. My bread I could not eat, and 
 gave it to those who brought me water. I have given them three days 
 allowance for one cup. It was necessary to use the strictest economy, 
 restricting myself to a certain number of swallows, and make them very 
 small; but my thirst was so extreme, that I sometimes overrun my 
 number. This finally became a fixed habit for many years ; and to this 
 day I find myself counting my swallows. 
 
 For the honor of the good citizens of New York, I must not om/t to tell 
 
290 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the reader how they supplied all the sick with a pint a-day of good Bohea 
 tea, well sweetened with molasses. This, I have no doubt, saved the lives 
 of hundreds. I knew no person on board of this hospital-ship, and owing 
 to the severity of my illness, and occasional derangement, cannot give full 
 details, which, indeed, would be revolting, on account of its almost in 
 credible filthiness. My prevailing fear was that I should die ; and that in 
 consequence of my ingratitude and wickedness, hell would be my portion. 
 I had frequently, in times of great distress, promised an amendment of life ; 
 and I now again prayed that God would spare me, and renewed my broken 
 promises. It was God s good pleasure to raise me up again, so as to walk 
 with difficulty, and I was returned to the Jersey prison-ship. As I went 
 below into this abode of despair, language would fail to convey any idea of 
 its melancholy aspect. My first object was to find my uncle. Alas ! he 
 was sick, and was required to return in the same boat in which I just came ; 
 and I could only be indulged in an interview of five minutes. Yet even 
 this was an unspeakable treat to me. He seemed discouraged, and with 
 tears bade me adieu, with little hope of ever meeting again. I shall let the 
 reader judge my feelings. I found a lad, named Stephen Nichpls^very 
 sick and low-spirited. We had known, and were much a ttacnqpl to each 
 other. He informed me of the fate of Mr. Davis, our gunner, and this 
 added to our melancholy ; and we stalked about the decl>s, lamenting our 
 forlorn condition. In a few days orders came to remove all the prisoners 
 from the Jersey to transport-ships, that the ship mightbe cleansed. As 
 soon as we were removed, a heavy storm came on, and the ship being ex 
 cessively crowded and wet, our plight was absolutely distressing. There 
 was not room for each one to lie down on deck, and many took violent 
 colds, myself among the rest. In a few days after we were all again trans 
 ferred back to the Old Jersey, I was sent off again to a hospital-ship ; and on 
 descending the hatchwa} 7 ", I met my uncle Wey mouth ! Our joy at meeting 
 again was equal to our despair when we parted some time before, yet it may 
 well be believed there was bitterness enough in our cup of momentary pleasure. 
 My uncle was depressed in spirit, but had his reason in his distressing ill 
 ness, and it pleased God to continue my own reason. He slowly recovered. 
 It cannot be pleasing to the reader nor myself, to give these doleful 
 details ; yet it may not be unprofitable for the present generation to know 
 the fearful sacrifices our fathers endured for our benefit. Nay, it is a 
 duty to study all their sufferings, in these days of luxurious ease, and vain 
 glorious boasting. The trying scenes passed by these prisoners, were various 
 and heart-rending. Here, for instance, near me, is one with his legs frozen ; 
 I have seen the toes and bottom of the feet fall off, and hang down by the 
 heel ! Two brothers, John and Abraham Hall, of the Scorpion s crew, 
 were dying, as one lay across the other; yet this was unavoidable. The 
 men who were near swore hard at John, while Abraham cried out for him 
 to get off. John made no reply. In the morning he was dead, and his 
 brother died the same day. Finally, there were but five out of our crew of 
 thirteen ; the rest left their bones here. Yet a larger portion of other crews 
 died. I know of none belonging to the Scorpion now living, except myself. 
 John Stone, of Limington, Maine, was one of them, but he has probably 
 been dead many years. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 291 
 
 While I was confined with my uncle on the second hospital-ship, we 
 received the joyful news of peace ! It would have been still more joyful 
 for us if we were all prepared to leave this dreadful place. Large numbers 
 were released from the Jersey some weeks before, on what terms, I never 
 knew. It was exceedingly trying to our feelings to see our companions in 
 suffering daily leaving us, till the ship was almost deserted, without know 
 ing our own fate. However, we gained strength slowly. A cartel was soon 
 sent from Rhode Island, to take home some from that State, and the com 
 mander of our hospital-ship had the humanity to use his influence to have 
 us taken with them, and, to our unspeakable joy, he consented. When we 
 left the hospital-ship, only seven or eight remained, and most of them were 
 convalescent. 
 
 On our departure we had to sign some kind of agreement, with a promise 
 to report ourselves at the commissary s office in Rhode Island. We now 
 most willingly bade adieu to the villainous Old Jersey, and all her hospital- 
 ships. Considering the time of the year, our passage through the Sound 
 was favorable ; and one morning before sunrise, we joyfully set our feet once 
 more upon the land of liberty. According to promise, we gave our names at 
 the commissary s office as prisoners from the Old Jersey. A trifling circum 
 stance happened on the morning of my arrival, which made a deep im 
 pression on my mind. As we passed a bake-house, we saw a fine heap of 
 burning coals just drawn from the oven. We were much chilled, and went 
 in to warn* ourselves : we had not had such a favor for the whole winter. 
 The bake", who saw us warming, came running down the stairs in haste ; 
 but noticing two such odd figures, he suddenly halted on the stairs. Then 
 he approached us slowly, and inquired if we were from the prison-ship. 
 We told him we were. "Really," said he, "you look as if you want some 
 friend ! Are you riot hungry ? Come, go with me." So saying, he led us 
 up stairs, where his family resided. I was so weak that I could hardly get 
 up stairs, supporting myself like a child, by putting my hands on the steps. 
 On entering the room we saw a beautiful young lady with a child on her 
 lap. The room was handsomely furnished, and a nice looking woman was 
 in attendance. "My dear," said the baker, "can t you give these men 
 some breakfast ? They have come from the prison-ship." "0 yes," said 
 the lady, with a very- sympathetic and modest air; and immediately gave 
 directions to the girl to make ready. The contrast between our present 
 and former situation was so striking that I felt extreme embarrassment, and 
 therefore had great reluctance in accepting the hospitality. "Come, sit 
 down, sit down," said the gentleman, "and make yourselves as comfortable 
 as you can : you must have had a hard time of it ! You have been sick, 
 but you have now got among your friends again ! " " Sir," said I, " we are 
 not fit to be where clean people are ; we are troubled with vermin." "O! 
 never mind, sit down, sit down," said he. The modest and friendly de 
 portment of his charming lady deeply affected me, and my tears freely 
 flowed. Instead of a haughty, disdainful air, which too many would have 
 shown, on the introduction to a drawing-room of a couple of dirty fellows, 
 she was in perfect contrast to all this prevalent pride. If I had not seen 
 the tears in her eyes, I do not know that I should have shed any myself. 
 I scarcely know of an event in all my checkered life that has made so in- 
 19 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 delible an impression. A thousand times I have said within my heart, "A 
 thousand blessings rest upon thee !" I much regret that I do not know tha 
 name of our kind entertainers. I have never been in Rhode Island since ; 
 but if I were in the same street again, I believe I coull point out the house, 
 if it is still standing. Our breakfast was of chocolate, ham, eggs, and warm 
 bread j ist from the oven. It was consoling that none were present at the 
 table but ourselves, as it would have been very mortifying to persons in our 
 situation. For months we had not made a comfortable meal : our appetitea 
 were keen : we were well nigh famished, and consequently, we were in 
 great danger from over-eating. My uncle gave me a gentle jog to forbear j 
 but as he continued eating, I had the politeness to keep him company. 
 When he left off, I also quit. We could only say to our kind host and 
 hostess, " We are quite obliged to you," without in the least doubting that 
 we were as welcome as we were thankful. 
 
 The next thing was to get to Providence. We were moneyless ; but the 
 master of a packet agreed to take our hammocks which we brought from 
 the hospital-ship. It was nearly night when we reached Providence. We 
 had but little clothing, and rolling up our blankets for packs, and stringing 
 them to our backs, we stepped on shore. In our forlorn condition, we had 
 no thought of sleeping in a bed ; and we were.a hundred miles from home. 
 We stalked up the street in Providence, wondering where we should find a 
 lodging. Yet this anxiety was but trifling, compared to our exultation at 
 the thought of being in the land of liberty, and beyond the reach of British 
 tyranny. We had not walked twenty rods from the wharf, when a gentle 
 man standing in the door of a drugstore hailed us. " Where are you from, 
 friends ? from New York ? " " Yes, sir." " Don t you want some refresh 
 ment ? Stop in that gate, and go into the house." The gentleman met 
 us in the kitchen with a bottle and a glass, and gave us a cordial. He then 
 ordered some victuals on the table, and requested us to eat ; which offer 
 we were not slow to accept. We thanked our benefactor, and went on our 
 journey. We had gone but a few rods, when a gentleman met my uncle, 
 who was a little ahead of me, and viewed him closely. He then cast his 
 eye on me, and having looked steadily for a moment, passed me. After 
 going several rods, he turned quickly round, and followed me, putting a 
 dollar in my hand, saying, " You are from New York here, divide this 
 between you." He turned in haste, and would hardly hear me say, "I 
 thank you." I thought he seemed half inclined to give something to my 
 uncle, when he met him, for he had his hands in his small clothes pockets, 
 but he did not. We walked on for half a mile : it was now sunset, and we 
 thought of trying for a lodging, but did not expect more than to lie on tho 
 floor by a fire. I therefore knocked at a door, when a young woman 
 appeared, looking quite astonished. "Madam, can we lie by your fire 
 to-night ? " inquired I. Without answering, she cried out, " Mother, I 
 really believe these men came from the same place Jack Robinson did ! " 
 The old lady then came rushing into the entry with one or two well-grown 
 girls, and began rapidly questioning us. After answering some of her ques 
 tions, I began to urge some of my own ; and the first was to know where 
 this Jack Robinson lived ; for, as soon as the girl mentioned his name, I had 
 an impression that we should have good quarters for the night; and I 
 
OF AMERICANS. 293 
 
 recollected a prisoner of that name, though I had no acquaintance with him. 
 They then pointed to the house hard by. We almost broke away from tha 
 good woman and her girls, and called at Mr. Robinson s shop door. The 
 good man came to the door himself, and as soon as we inquired if Jack 
 Robinson lived there, the good old gentleman exclaimed, "God bless you ! 
 Why here is some more of them ! Why, he is my dear son ; come in, 
 con.e in ! Why, Jack has just got home : we thought he was dead, and 
 never expected to see him again ! Corne in, you dear souls, come in ! " 
 The tears ran freely down his cheeks ; his house was open to receive us, and 
 his wife and daughters were equally friendly. Jack was as lively as a bird ; 
 and well he might be, for he had not been sick. When we were about to 
 retire for the night, we requested that the carpet might be removed, that we 
 might lie before the fire in our blankets. "0 no, you must go to bed." 
 We objected that we were not in a fit condition ; and finally, the old gentle 
 man consented that we should lie on the floor, bat would not agree to have 
 the carpet removed, as we desired. After breakfast next morning, we took 
 leave of this happy family. Our progress was only about four miles that 
 day, and on the next, but one ; for the- weather was cold, and we very 
 sensibly felt the consequences of eating too freely. At Dr. Mann s tavern, 
 his sons gave us some money. When we were within ten miles of Provi 
 dence, we called at a red house on the left side of the road. Here we were 
 allowed to stay all night, but were expected to pay for our entertainment. 
 We found we could get horses at this place. The landlord, a wealthy 
 farmer, had two sons, rather stupid, but fond of money. There wer6 also 
 one or two maiden ladies in the family, and a family of negroes. We 
 plainly told them our situation, and that we only wished to lie by their 
 kitchen fire. The landlady furnished us an economical supper : her gene 
 rosity was quite in contrast with that of the baker, the apothecary, and the 
 Robinson family. We bargained with the close old man and his sons, to 
 take us to a certain village about twelve miles distant; but I am not able to 
 say whether it was Wai pole, Dedham, or Attleborough. The money we 
 got from Dr. Mann s sons, went as part payment for our horse fare and 
 scanty supper. After all the family had retired, however, the negroes 
 began, in whispers, to be very inquisitive, as to whether they were to have, 
 their liberty, with others, at the close of the war. The old black woman 
 went on to say how faithfully she had served her masser and missey, and how 
 deblish covetous, they were: "Dey would starve poor negro. Dey old 
 masser and missey had money enough, but dey am too stingy to lay out a 
 copper ; and poor negro hab to steal bittles, or else dey would starve." The 
 old woman granted herself the liberty to lay aside some provisions for her 
 self and children s supper. When the family were asleep, she made us 
 welcome to take supper with them, and we did not need urging. 
 
 The next day we mounted our horses and pursued our journey. I rode 
 a small, gentle beast, but could not bear to have the animal go out of a 
 walk. The old bachelor who went with us was in a hurry to return, and in 
 the course of the day, gave my horse a clap, which started him into a brisk 
 trot, which caused me to double down upon the saddle, and check the 
 reins as quick as possible, for the severe jolting almost took my life. As 
 soon as I recovered breath, I assailed the old fellow with such an avalanche 
 
294 ADVENTURES ANt> ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of hard words that he turned pale, and attempted no more to drive 
 my horse. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when we reached the village. There had 
 been a town-meeting that day, and as there were many in the town who 
 did not live on the public road, there was no small curiosity manifested at 
 seeing such queer objects as ourselves, pass through the street. None 
 were intoxicated, yet it would be strange indeed if some of them were not 
 merry, especially as this was the first town-meeting since the jo; ful news of 
 peace. Among the crowd were many old men, who, for the last seven 
 years, had assembled to talk of their country s adversity. They soon formed 
 a circle round us, and were extremely inquisitive to know all about us, and 
 how we had fared. We gratified their patriotic curiosity, while the bowl 
 went round ; but we cautiously avoided drinking, having already suffered so 
 much from over-eating, after the long famine we endured while prisoners. 
 At length an old patriot made a motion that a little contribution be made 
 to assist us on our way home. A handful of silver change, amounting to 
 about three dollars, was collected, and the landlord agreed to give us 
 supper, and lodging in his bar-room. 
 
 On our way next day, we called at an elegant house in Roxbury, to 
 warm and rest ourselves. The lady had a dinner-party from Boston, but she 
 came out into the kitchen richly dressed, exclaiming, " Bless me ! where did 
 these poor creatures come from ! " Then turning to us, " Why, you must be 
 in a suffering condition ! Don t you want something to eat ?" Saying to 
 the servant, " Do get some wine for them get me some eggs ; let thei 
 take an egg with a little wine: it will be comforting to their stomach . 
 They must have some victuals girls do set the table." My uncle had a 
 violent pain in one eye, and lost the sight of it for awhile. The good lady 
 pitied him much, prescribed for him, and had it bound up. W T e feasted on 
 roast-turkey, and other bounties, with which her table was loaded, and with 
 man} kind wishes, went on our way. At Boston, we received many atten 
 tions from Mr. Drown, a gentleman of about seventy-five, and a high whig. 
 His estate had suffered much while the British were in Boston. The old 
 gentleman said he " was born fifty years too soon, to see the glory of Amer 
 ica." He did not suffer us to go penniless, and called on some of his 
 friends to assist us, though we still had most of the money collected for us 
 at the town-meeting. 
 
 We hired horses to take us on by short stages to Hampton Falls. Here 
 I had to part with my uncle. He had a journey of twenty miles to Kpping, 
 and I had about fifteen miles to travel. My younger brother, Samuel, 
 hearing that I was on the road, met me several mile* from home, and 
 brought me a horse ; but I was still so weak that I could not bear to let 
 him go faster than a walk. 
 
 Thus it pleased u merciful Providence to return me to my afflicted 
 mother. She wept bitterly to see h<-r por emaciated son. She was still a 
 mourner for Thomas. My dear sisters were all affection. When ray- 
 brother, who took me into another room to divest me of my clothing, saw 
 my bones projecting here and there, he fainted. I was now taken very ill, 
 but had ever} attention. - It was most surprising how I could have pur- 
 formed a journey of several hundred miles, so feeble and ill-clad as 1 was, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 295 
 
 and in the depth of winter. But a reaction now took place, and I had a 
 long and severe illness. In the spring, however, I began to amend very 
 slowly. 
 
 In the spring of 1785, I made another voyage to the West Indies, in the 
 sloop Randolph. We discharged our cargo tit Trinidad, and on our return, 
 touched at Barbadoes and St. Eustatia to purchase provisions, ours having 
 been exhausted in our long passage, and we arrived in Portsmouth in 
 November. 
 
 In the following spring, I made yet another voyage, in the ship Lydia, 
 commanded by my old friend Captain Tibbits, to Lisbon, by way of Wil 
 mington, N. C., where we took a cargo of lumber and turpentine. Nothing 
 uncommon occurred till we reached the coast of Portugal. We stood along 
 the coast under easy sail, not wishing to approach near the land. The 
 Algerines, at this period, were committing depredations on our commerce. 
 Not long before this, Captain O Brien was taken by these pirates, with all 
 his crew, and kept in slavery many years. We had good reason to be in 
 fear of them, and kept a bright look out. 
 
 One night, about twelve o clock, as I lay in my berth, I heard what 
 seemed the distant sound of a human voice. At this time the captain was 
 on deck talking. Listening again, I heard the voice again ; and now felt 
 greatly alarmed ; and soon discovered that the watch on deck heard the 
 same sound. The sound became more and more distinct, and neared us 
 rapidly. We were greatly alarmed. It was now time to be up and doing. 
 All hands were immediately on deck. There was no question that the 
 sound came from an Algerine galley, within one hundred and fifty yards 
 of us. She soon hailed us in different languages. Captain Tibbitts, who 
 had the helm, gave them evasive answers. Never were people more 
 alarmed than we ; never did a crew make sail quicker. We set our top 
 gallants, hauled our wind a little, and got out our studding-sails. By the 
 time we could do this, our pursuer was within twenty yards of us ! She 
 feigned to be in distress, and designed to decoy us; for, having lain under 
 the land without any sails set, she was not discovered by us in the daylight, 
 while all our movements had been closely watched : and the maneuver was, 
 in sea phrase, to run athwart of our fore-foot. Being to the leeward, how 
 ever, she had to depend on oars. The original design was doubtless to 
 board us, but when we were likely to shoot by, to decoy us. Not a rag of 
 sail did she show till she had completely gained our wake, and the chase 
 was made with a full press of sail. But our ship was an excellent sailer, 
 and soon began to leave her ; and after a brief chase, finding she was no 
 match for us, she took n in sails, and the Algerine pirate was soon lost sight 
 of. Thus by the mercy of God, we escaped murder or slavey. The next 
 day we got into Lisbon, and reported the particulars. A government brig 
 immediately went in pursuit ; with what success, I never learned. 
 
 Among the numerous objects of interest, was the destruction of Lisbon by 
 earthquakes. Our ship lay near a large castle surrounded bv water, whicU 
 was said to have been sunk by an earthquake ; and our boat often passed 
 over other sunken places. I also noticed tokens of those awful calamities 
 on shore. What greatly astonished me, was the hundreds of wagon loads 
 of fruits of all kinds piled up in the market square grapes of many 
 
296 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 varieties, figs, oranges, lemons, everything, in incredible abundance. Hun- 
 dreds of females in companies were riding on jacks, with large hampers of 
 fruit slung on each side, going to market. It was curious to walk through 
 the market and see the great variety and abundance of fish. Fishermen 
 had their families in boats, and I doubted whether many of them had any 
 other habitation. In their boats they kept a small tub, with some gravel in 
 it, and a small iron grate, on which they put coal, and cooked their fish in 
 earthen pots. When they came from selling fish in the market, they would 
 bring large water-melons in their arras, and eat them with stewed fish. 
 They made free use of raw onions, some of which were as large as a com 
 mon saucer, and only an inch and a half thick. I did not notice that they 
 had any other vegetable, bread, or meat. 
 
 In one street, called " Rag Fair," all the shops were occupied by Jews 
 who sold clothing. The moment one enters this odd-looking vicinage, his 
 attention is arrested by the vociferations of these Israelites, standing in their 
 shop-doors. They beckoned from both sides of the street, to inveigle a 
 passenger inside. To effect this object, so dear to their hearts, all sorts of 
 gestures and maneuvers are brought into play. When the door of any one 
 of them is approached, he is beset and surrounded by a dozen of these 
 shysters, all fully determined to drive a bargain. When any one succeeds 
 in getting a person inside, he is shown articles in great variety ; this, that, 
 and the other, is urged on him : the goods are cheapened again and again. 
 "Here, take this for so much," and it is next to impossible to get out of 
 their clutches without buying something ; and whatever it is, the buyer is 
 done for. On leaving the shop he is sure to be seized by a dozen more, and 
 happy is he, if he escapes their importunities, and gets into the street again 
 with a whole skin. We often passed through this street, for no other object 
 but to see those unmitigated sharpers display their peculiar cunning, and 
 tricks of trade. 
 
 One evening about sunset, as I was going on board the ship, I saw about 
 fifty men carrying a cable on their shoulders ; and when a certain bell 
 began to ring, a large number of them left their burdens to others, and for 
 the space of a minute attended to their devotions, crossing themselves, and 
 telling their beads. It was curious to notice how patiently the others stood 
 under their heavy burden, until their fellows returned. 
 
 The streets were very narrow, but there was here and there an open 
 square. At one of the largest in the city, in one corner, a wax statue of the 
 Virgin was placed, about ten feet from the ground, inclosed in glass, and 
 with the infant Saviour in her arms. All the Portuguese, gentle or simple, 
 were careful to take off their hats when they passed on that side of the 
 street where the image stood. As for me, having no proclivities of that 
 sort, I took care to keep on the other side. One day a funeral procession 
 came along, and having the curiosity to examine it, I stepped into a shoe 
 maker s shop. Suddenly I found a fellow fumbling about my head with a 
 long pole, with which he nearly uncapt me, and would have succeeded 
 if I had not held it on, might and main. This caused the fellow to be 
 more resolute, and I got some pretty hard thumps on my head. The man 
 of the shop then gave me the hint to take off my hat, which I was not slow 
 to do, when I knew the cause of his holy rage. I afterward ascertained 
 
OF AMERICANS. 297 
 
 that it gave them great offense to remain covered in the presence of then 
 sacred images, pictures, and what not. We live and learn, thought I. 
 
 On another occasion I noticed a large collection of people near a market- 
 cquare. Drawing near, I observed a corpse on a bier, and a bald-headed 
 friar standing at the head, in a tone of mock-solemnity, repeating over and 
 over again a long sentence in .some unknown tongue. On the stomach of 
 the corpse, which was a female, was a large earthen basin. The bosom 
 was bare, and just above the left breast, a deep wound had been inflicted 
 with a large dagger. The priest and the Portuguese spectators looked sad, 
 and a sad sight it was. One and another would drop some change into the 
 basin, which contained about three dollars, which the priest appeared 
 anxious to increase. We were informed that the husband of this woman 
 committed the horrid deed, having suspected his wife s chastity ; for she 
 had been walking in the evening with another man. The husband had 
 followed, and killed her with the dagger he had concealed in his coat- 
 sleeve. The murderer then fled to the church, and put his finger in the 
 key-hole, which act protected him ! The use made of the money is for 
 any intelligent reader to imagine. 
 
 But it is time to think of returning to my native land. We took part of 
 a cargo at Lisbon, and sailed to St. Ubes for the remainder, and were con 
 veyed off the coast with a number of other vessels, by a Portuguese frigate. 
 On our passage homeward we had tempestuous weather. It was November. 
 We were several times driven back by fierce winds ; our sails were split, 
 and we were out of fuel and provisions. Our caboose was carried over 
 board, whence we were in great danger of following. My boxes of chocolate 
 and some other merchandise, which I took as an adventure at Lisbon, I 
 could not sell to advantage, and so I had to keep it for a home market. 
 This bad luck, however, saved us from absolute starvation, having become 
 reduced to a quarter allowance ; and we had a pint of chocolate twice a day, 
 in consequence of my untoward luck in not being able to sell it ! In bad 
 weather we had to pump all the time, as the ship was heavily laden. Once 
 she leaked so much that we despaired of freeing her, and soon expected 
 to find ocean graves; but the same good, and gracious, and ever-watchful 
 Providence, whose mercies had followed me all my days, in all my 
 wanderings, and ingratitude, and forgetfulness of Him, had better things 
 in store for me, and designed me for some useful purposes then to me 
 unknown. 
 
 We reached the desired haven of Portsmouth, my native home, in safety, 
 to the great joy of my surviving friends. My uncle Weymouth soon paid 
 me a visit. He had not been at sea since his deliverance from the Old 
 Jersey. To me it seemed a merciful Providence that I had been induced 
 by the earnest entreaties of my uncle to abandon all thought of any future 
 voyage, and settle down with him in the country on a farm, in New 
 Hampshire. 
 
 The preceding narrative re not without a wholesome moral^ while it 
 affords many vivid pictures of an age of heroic suffering, in the cause of 
 
298 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Liberty. We may well wonder at our hero s strong propensity for sea 
 roving. While nearly all his early associates passed away "like the swift 
 ships" on a tempestuous sea, he was spared to more useful ends. His tale 
 of hardship and almost incredible suffering, is left riot so much for imita 
 tion, as instruction and admonition. Not till he became weary in his lorg 
 and vain chase of phantoms, did he give them up. His experience was of 
 much value in after life, when he became a successful minister of tie 
 gospel. Ho died in 1831, at the age of seventy. 
 
NAREATIVE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CRUISE OF THE ESSEX, 
 
 A UNITED STATES FRIGATE. UNDER THE COMMAND OF CAPTAIN DAVID PORTER, MADI 
 TO THE PACIFIC OCEAX, IN THE YEARS 1812. 18l3, AND 1814, THE PERIOD OF THE 
 
 LAST WAR WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 THE three years cruise of the United States Frigate Essex to the Pacific 
 Ocean, in the last war with Great Britain, was one of the most remarkable 
 enterprises in the history of the naval marine of this or any other nation. 
 She was the first American man-of-war that ever weathered the storms of 
 the Cape of Good Hope, the first that ever unfurled the star-spangled 
 banner over the blue waters of the Pacific. 
 
 The journal of this cruise, by Captain Porter, the bold and skillful com 
 mander of the Essex, was published in two volumes in the year 1815, and 
 is replete with novel and fascinating adventures. From it this narrative is 
 mainly derived. 
 
 The Essex was a ship of considerable note in our navy. She was a small 
 frigate of thirty-two guns, and was built in the year 1799. She was em 
 ployed in the war with Tripoli ; and in that with Great Britain, had the 
 first successful combat with the enemy. This event occurred in the sum 
 mer Of 1812^ when, after an engagement of eight minutes, off our Atlantic 
 coast, his majesty s ship Alert struck her flag to the Essex, then under the 
 command of Captain Porter. It is true that she was far inferior to the 
 American ; but so exaggerated had become the opinion of the British prow 
 ess, that impossibilities were sometimes looked for, and hence the feebleness 
 of her resistance excited surprise. 
 
 In the succeeding autumn, the Essex, Constitution, and Hornet were 
 assigned to the command of Commodore Bainbridge. The last two were 
 lying in the port of Boston, and the Essex in the Delaware. On the 26th 
 of October, the last two got to sea; orders having been sent previously to 
 Captain Porter, to rendezvous at Port Praya, in the island of St. Jago ; and 
 secondly at Fernando Noronha. Other places were also pointed out to him, 
 until a time mentioned, when, if he failed to fall in with the other vessels, 
 he was at liberty to follow his own discretion. As he did fail in his 
 atteirpts, his independent action resulted in the memorable cruise which 
 vre here outline. 
 
 In obedience to instructions, Captain Porter left the capes of Delaware on 
 the 28th of October, 1812. He had a very full crew, 319 officers and men. 
 
300 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and from the muster roll before us, it seems that they must nearly all have 
 been natives of the United States, as is indicated by the names. Another 
 fact is worthy of mentioning in this connection, as showing a custom of that 
 day : out of the whole number, two hundred and eighty-eight had not any 
 middle names, and of the thirty-one who had, eighteen were officers. 
 
 The vessel was well supplied with stores, and put in the best possible 
 state for service. A double supply of clothing was provided, and fruit, 
 vegetables, and lime juice, as anti-scorbutics. "We left the capes of the 
 Delaware," says Porter, " with the wind from the northward, which 
 gradually hauled around to the westward, blowing fresh, with thick 
 weather, and it was with difficulty we were enabled to weather the 
 dangerous shoals of Chincoteague. On the morning of the 29th, the wind 
 hauled around to the westward, and increased to a gale. Got the ship 
 under snug sail, and secured our masts by setting up the rigging, which, 
 being new, had stretched considerably. The ship being very deep, we 
 found her unusually laborsome and uncomfortable : her straining, occasioned 
 by her deep rolling, opened her water-ways, and kept the berth-deck full of 
 water, damaged a great deal of our provisions stowed on it, and wet all the 
 bedding and clothes of the crew; found also the coal-hole full of water; 
 found a leak somewhere between the cutwater and stem, but in other 
 respects found the ship tight; for, after scuttling the birth-deck and bulk 
 head of the coal-hole, found we could easily keep her free by pumping a 
 few minutes every two hours. 
 
 Previous to leaving the river, the crew had been put on allowance of 
 half a gallon of water each man per day ; and being desirous of making our 
 provisions hold out as long as possible, having views, at the same time, 
 with regard to the health of the crew, I caused the allowance of the bread 
 to be reduced one half, and issued in lieu of the remainder half a pound of 
 potatoes, or the same quantity of apples. Every other article of provisions 
 was reduced one third, excepting rum, of which the full allowance was 
 served out raw to the cook of each mess (the crew being divided into messes 
 of eight, and a cook being allowed to each), who were accountable for the 
 faithful distribution of it. For the undrawn provisions the purser s steward 
 was directed to issue due-bills, with assurances on my part that they should 
 be paid the amount on our arrival in port. Orders were given to lose no 
 opportunity of catching rain-water for the stock, of which we had a large 
 quantity on board, every mess in the ship being supplied with pigs and 
 poultry. The allowance of candles was reduced one half, and economy 
 established respecting the consumption of wood and the expenditure of the 
 ship s stores. Habits of cleanliness and care with respect to clothing were 
 strongly recommended to the officers and crew. I now gave a general 
 pardon for all offenses committed on board ; recommended the strictest 
 attention to the discipline of the ship ; held out prospects of reward to thoso 
 who should be vigilant in the performance of their duty ; and gave assur 
 ances that the first man I should feel myself under the necessity of punish 
 ing should receive three dozen lashes, expressing, however, a hope that 
 punishment during the cruise would be altogether unnecessary. I directed, 
 as a standing regulation, that the ship should be fumigated in every part 
 each morning, by pouring vinegar on a red-hot shot, and confided to Lieuten- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 301 
 
 ant Finch the superintendance of the berth-deck, in order to preserve it in a 
 cleanly and wholesome state. Lime being provided in tight casks, for the 
 purpose of white-washing, and sand for dry-rubbing it, and orders given not 
 to wet it if there should be a possibility of avoiding it, a comfortable place 
 was fitted up for the accommodation of the sick on the berth-deck ; cleats 
 were put up for the slinging as many hammocks as possible on the gun- 
 deck ; and orders given that no wet clothes or wet provisions should bo 
 permitted to remain on the berth-deck, or that the crew should be per 
 mitted to eat anywhere but on the gun-deck, except in bad weather. 
 Having established the above and other regulations, as regarded the health 
 and comfort of the crew, I exhorted the officers to keep them occupied con 
 stantly during working hours, in some useful employment, and directed 
 that between the hours of four and six o clock in the afternoon, should be 
 allowed to them for amusement, when the duties of the ship would admit. 
 
 Prior to the pilot s leaving us, I caused him to deliver into my possession 
 all letters which might have been given him by the crew, apprehensive 
 that, from some accidental cause, they might have become possessed of a 
 knowledge of our destination ; they all however contained only conjectures, 
 except one, the writer of which asserted, as he stated from good authority, 
 that we were bound on the coast of Africa : as some of their conjectures 
 were not far from being correct, I thought it best to destroy the whole of 
 them, and forbid the pilot s taking any more without my consent. To the 
 officers who were desirous of writing to their friends, I enjoined particularly 
 not to mention the movements of the ship in any way." 
 
 On the 23d of November, the Essex crossed the equator. The ceremony 
 of crossing the line was duly performed. " We were honored," says Porter, 
 "by a visit from the gods of the ocean, accompanied by Amphitrite and a 
 numerous retinue of imps, barbers, etc., in his usual style of visiting, and in 
 the course of the afternoon all the novices of the ship s company were in 
 itiated into his mysteries. Neptune, however, and most of his suite, paid 
 their devotions so frequently to Bacchus, that before the ceremony of 
 christening was half gone through, their godships were unable to stand ; 
 the business was therefore intrusted to the subordinate agents, who per 
 formed both the shaving and washing with as little regard to tenderness as 
 his majesty would have done. On the whole, however, they got through 
 the business with less disorder and more good humor than I expected ; and 
 although some were most unmercifully scraped, the only satisfaction sought 
 was that of shaving others in their turn with new invented tortures." 
 
 On the 27th, the Essex entered the harbor of Port Praya, in the Portu 
 guese island of St. Jago. The town contained about three thousand in 
 habitants, of whom not over thirty were whites, the rest being negroes, 
 slave and free. The soldiers numbered some 400 men ; the officers were 
 principally mulatoes, and their priest was an oily mannered gentleman of the 
 negro race. The soldiers were generally naked from the waist upward, and 
 in the whole place there were not five serviceable muskets. Most all 
 of them were without any locks, their stocks broken off at the breech, their 
 barrels tied into the stocks with a leather thong, or a cord made of the 
 fibers of the cocoa-nut ; and it was no uncommon thing to see a naked negro 
 mounting guard shouldering a musket barrel only. Their cavalry were in 
 
302 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 a corresponding style, mounted on jackasses, and armed with broken 
 swords. 
 
 The Essex remained several days getting on board refreshments and 
 water. It is supposed that there had been collected on board not less than 
 one hundred thousand oranges, together with a large quantity of cocoa-nuts, 
 plantains, lemons, limes, casada, etc. Every mess on board were also sup 
 plied with pigs, sheep, fowls, turkeys, goats, etc., which were purchased 
 very cheap ; fowls at three dollars per dozen, and fine turkeys at one dollar 
 each ; many of the seamen also furnished themselves with monkeys 
 and young goats as pets, and when they sailed from thence, the ship bore 
 no slight resemblance, as respected the different kind on board her, to 
 Noah s ark. 
 
 On leaving the port they shaped their course to the southeast, with a 
 view of deceiving the people of Pray a, and impressing a belief that they 
 were bound to the coast of Africa ; when however they had got out of sight 
 of the town, the ship s course was altered to a southwesterly direction. 
 
 "My chief care," says Porter, "was now the health of my people, and 
 every means that could suggest themselves to my mind to effect this great 
 object were adopted. The utmost cleanliness was required from every 
 person on board, directions were given for mustering the crew every morning 
 at their quarters, where they were strictly examined by their officers. It 
 was recommended to them to bathe at least once a day, and the officers 
 were requested to show them the example in so doing themselves; they 
 were required, also, to use every means in their power to provide constant 
 employment for the men under their control during working hours, and 
 amusement for them during the hours of recreation, and to be particularly 
 careful not to harass them by disturbing them unnecessarily during their 
 watch below, and also to guard against any improper or unnecessary ex 
 posure to the weather; economy was recommended to the crew in the use 
 of their supply of fruit, and permission was given to suspend it in the 
 rigging and other airy parts of the ship, in nets made for the purpose, with 
 a promise of the severest punishment to such as should be detected in steal 
 ing from others : with those precautions to procure exercise and cleanliness, 
 with proper ventilations and fumigations, a young, active, healthy, and con 
 tented crew, asbip in good order for the service we were engaged in, well found 
 with the best provisions, and the purest water, perfectly free from all bad 
 taste and smell, I do not conceive why we should be in greater apprehen 
 sion of disease originating on board now, than on the coast of North 
 America. The clouds- which overhung the atmosphere during the day, and 
 nearly obscured the sun, served greatly to ameliorate the effects of its rays; 
 a pleasant and steady breeze from the east contributed greatly to refresh the 
 air; and sailing could not be more pleasant than was our passage toward the 
 line. The landsmen on .board were delighted with it, and the seamen 
 felicitated themselves that it was riot always the case at sea, or all the old 
 women in the country as they expressed themselves would have beta 
 sailors. " 
 
 On the 12th of December the Essex took her first prize. This was i i* 
 British government packet Nocton, mounting ten guns, with a crew.^f 
 thirty-one men. On board was found fifty-five thousand dollars in spe- i 
 
OF AMERICANS. 303 
 
 Taking this out of her, Porter put a crew of seventeen men on beard, under 
 Lieutenant Finch, and dispatched her for the United States ; but she Avas 
 re-captured on the route. 
 
 Two days after they made the island of Fernando de Noronha, where 
 Captain Porter obtained a letter from Commodore Cambridge, who had 
 touched there, informing him that he would find the other vessels off Cape 
 Frio, near the City of Rio Janeiro. 
 
 Fernando de Noronha was found to be well fortified, and its population 
 consisted of a few miserable, naked Portuguese exiles, and as miserable a 
 guard. No females were permitted to be on the island, as if to render this 
 place of exile more horrible. Ten days later the Essex was off Cape Frio, 
 on the Brazil coast ; but no signs were seen of the Constitution or Hornet. 
 Three days afterward, in fact, the Constitution gained her victory over the 
 Java, off St. Sabrador, some nine hundred miles north of Cape Frio. On 
 the morning of the 29th, the Essex made another prize it was the Eliza 
 beth, an English merchant-vessel. Captain Porter, alter some farther cruis 
 ing on this coast, decided to run into the island of St. Catherines for water. 
 They came to anchor on the 20th of January, 1813. This island is near 
 the South American coast, some five hundred miles southerly from Rio 
 Janeiro, and belongs to Portugal. "When the ship was anchored, I went 
 on shore to fix on the watering place. We, in two days arid a half, com 
 pleted watering our ship. The officers and men, in the meantime, pro 
 vided themselves with hogs, fowls, plantains, yams, and onions, in consider 
 able quantities, from the boats alongside ; but their anxiety to procure them, 
 caused the Portuguese to take advantage of their necessities, and ask the 
 most extravagant prices for everything, which some of our people had tho 
 folly to give, as if their stock of money was inexhaustible. This made my 
 interference necessary, as those who were not disposed to squander their 
 money were likely to go without refreshments. I first began by punishing 
 a man for paying a dollar for a dozen of rotten eggs; and next would not 
 permit the boats to sell, after they had come alongside, until the price of 
 every article was established as follows : three fowls one dollar; nine water 
 melons for the same sum; one dollar for a turkey ; and everything else in 
 the same ratio. After this, I kept persons to observe and report to me such 
 as paid improper prices ; and by these means brought the market down to 
 tolerably fair rates. 
 
 On the 2lst, I dispatched Lieutenant Wilmer to the town of St. Catherines, 
 in one of the ship s boats, accompanied by Lieutenant Gamble, Mr. Shaw, 
 purser, Doctor Hoffman, and Midshipman Feltus. I directed Lieutenant 
 \\ ilmer to wait on the governor, Don Luis Mauricio da Silvia, with my 
 respects, and to thank him for the civilities I had met with, and gave him 
 orders to return if possible the same day. I gave orders to Mr. Shaw to 
 endeavor to procure a supply of beef, flour, bread, and rum ; to remain in 
 town until it was ready, hire a vessel, and bring it down. The weather uas 
 squally, with heavy rains, when they started, as indeed was the case the 
 whole time we lay here. I felt uneasy that the boat did not return in the 
 evening, but hoped, as the weather had grown much worse, that they had 
 determined on remaining that night ; however, at two o clock in the morn 
 ing, Lieutenants Wilmer and Gamble came into mv cabin almost naked, 
 
304 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and shivering with the wet .and cold, and informed me that the boat had 
 been upset in a squall ; but that all hands had saved themselves, after hav 
 ing been four hours on her bottom. They fortunately were to windward of 
 an island standing in the middle of the bay, where the} 7 drifted on shoro 
 and righted the boat. They lost all their clothes, as well as everything 
 they had purchased in town, to the amount of six or seven hundred dollaro, 
 but were so fortunate as to find next day, among the rocks of the island, 
 every article that would float. Lieutenant Wilmer informed me, that there 
 would be great difficulties in procuring the articles required. 
 
 Next morning, Mr. Shaw came down with five puncheons of rum, fresh 
 beef for two days, a quantity of onions, and a few bags of flour, which were 
 all that could be procured. The beef was spoiled before it came on board, 
 and we were obliged to throw it overboard; and shortly afterward, an 
 enormous shark, at least twenty-five feet in length, rose alongside, with a 
 quarter of a bullock in his mouth. It would be impossible to describe the 
 horror that this voracious animal excited. Several of our seamen, and most 
 of the officers, had been swimming alongside the evening previous. A man 
 would scarcely have been a mouthful for him. When he firnt made his 
 appearance, every one was impressed with a belief that it was a young 
 whale. 
 
 During our stay here, we were constantly attended by an officer from the 
 fort, who was indefatigable in his attentions toward us. His name was 
 Sabine, and his rank was that of sergeant-major. I waited on the com 
 mander of the fort the day after I anchored. He was a very old man ; his 
 name was Don Alexander Jose de Azedido. He received me with great 
 civility, and, as has been generally the case with the Portuguese, expressed 
 great desire that our cruise might be successful. The fort has been erected 
 about seventy years ; there are mounted on it fifteen or twenty honey 
 combed guns of different calibers. Vegetation has been so rapid, that the 
 walls of the fortress are nearly hid by the trees that have shot up in every 
 part. The gun-carriages are in a very rotten state, and the garrison consists 
 of about twenty half-naked soldiers. There is a church within the fortress ; 
 and, as a substitute for a bell, is suspended at the door, part of a broken 
 crow-bar ; and at the entrance of the commandant s apartments is the stocks 
 (for the punishment of the soldiers), which, from their greasy, polished ap 
 pearance, I have reason to believe are kept in constant use. 
 
 On the 25th of January, 1813, I got under weigh and proceeded to sea, 
 We were clear of all the islands about four o clock on the morning of the 
 26th. It was then necessary to decide promptly on my future proceedings, 
 as our provisions were getting short ; I called on the purser for a report cf 
 them, and found that we had but three months bread at half allowance ; 
 there was no port on this coast where we could procure a supply, without 
 the certainty of capture, or blockade (which I considered as bad); to attempt 
 to return to the United States, at a season of the year when our coast would 
 be swarming with the enemy s cruisers, would be running too much risk, 
 and would be going diametrically opposite to my instructions. I was per 
 fectly at a loss now where to find the commodore, as he had departed from 
 his original intentions, and had already disappointed me at three rendezvous , 
 the state of my provisions would not admit of going off St. Helena s to inter- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 305 
 
 cept the returning Indiamen, nor would my force justify the proceeding; to 
 remain, however, longer here, where I could get no supplies, would be a 
 folly, and it became absolutely necessary to depart from the letter of my in 
 structions ; I therefore determined to pursue that course which seemed to 
 me best calculated to injure the enemy, and would enable me to prolong my 
 cruise : this could only be done by going into a friendly port, where I could 
 .ncrease my supplies without the danger of blockade, and the first place that 
 presented itself to my mind, was the port of Conception, on the coast of 
 Chili. The season, to be sure, was far advanced for doubling Cape Horn ; our 
 gtock of provisions was short, and the ship in other respects not well sup 
 plied with stores for so long a cruise ; but there appeared no other choice 
 left for me, except capture, starvation, or blockade ; this course, of all others, 
 appeared to me also the most justifiable, as it accorded with the views of 
 the honorable secretary of the navy, as well as those of my immediate com 
 mander. Before the declaration of war, I wrote a letter to the former, con 
 taining a plan for annoying the enemy s commerce in the Pacific Ocean, 
 which was approved of by him ; and prior to my sailing, Commodore Bain- 
 bridge requested my opinion, as to the best mode of annoying the enerny. 
 I laid before him the same plan, arid received his answer approving of the 
 same, and signifying his intentions to pursue it, provided we could get sup 
 plies of provisions. 
 
 I calculated that it would not take me more than two months and a half 
 to get round to Conception, where I was confident of procuring an abundant 
 supply of jerked beef, fish, flour, and wine. I calculated, that the prizes 
 we should make in the Pacific, would supply us with such articles of naval 
 stores as we should require ; and although there was considerable responsi 
 bility attached to the proceeding, and the undertaking was greater than had 
 yet been engaged in by any single ship on similar pursuits, time did not 
 admit of delay, and, immediately on getting to sea, I directed my course to 
 the southward. 
 
 Before I proceed farther, however, it is necessary that I should say some 
 thing of St. Catharines. 
 
 This island has been settled by the Portuguese about seventy years : the 
 town which appears to be in rather a thriving state, is situated on that point 
 of the island nearest the continent, and may contain about ten thousand in 
 habitants ; here the captain-general resides. The houses are generally neatly 
 built, and the country at the back of the town is in a state of considerable 
 improvement. But nothing can exceed the beauty of the great bay to tho 
 north, formed by the island of St. Catharines and the South American Con 
 tinent : there is every variety to give beauty to the scene ; handsome vil 
 lages and houses built around, shores which gradually ascend in mountains, 
 covered to their summit with trees, which remain in constant verdure ; a 
 climate always temperate and healthy ; small islands scattered here and there, 
 equally covered with verdure ; the soil extremely productive ; all combine 
 to render it in appearance, the most delightful country in the world. The 
 people of this place appear to be the most happy of those who live under 
 the Portuguese government, probably because the more they are distant from 
 it, the less they are subject to its impositions and oppressions ; still, how 
 ever, they complain. There are two regiments of troops at St. Catharines 
 
306 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 if provisions are wanted for them, an officer goes to the houses of the pea 
 santry, seizes on their cattle or grain, and. gives them a bill on the govern 
 ment, for which they never receive payment. The peasantry are well clad, 
 comfortable and cheerful in their appearance ; the women are handsome 
 and graceful in their manners ; the men have the character of being ex 
 tremely jealous of them, and I believe they have sufficient reason to be so. 
 
 As we proceeded southerly the cold began to be sensibly felt and woollen 
 clothing to be more esteemed than it had been for some time past; the old 
 jackets and trowsers that had been lying about the ship were carefully col 
 lected as some suspicions of my doubling Cape Horn had got among the 
 crew. 
 
 I determined to, make the best of my way round Cape Horn, and appre 
 hensive of some difficulties in going through the Straits of Le Maire, I de 
 termined to go to the eastward of Staten Land. 
 
 On the 13th February at noon, I calculated that Cape St. Johns, the eastern 
 port of Staten Land, bore South half West distant thirty five miles ; and 
 although the thickness of the weather prevented our seeing more than a 
 mile ahead, a confidence of being able to see the land in sufficient time 
 to haul-oil to clear it, induced me to continue my run ; breakers were dis 
 covered, bearing E.S.E. and S.E., distant about three- fourths of a mile, and 
 in a few minutes afterward, the land appeared in the same direction ; we 
 consequently hauled on a wind to the eastward, and sounded in forty-five 
 fathoms water. We had now approached so close to the breakers, with the 
 hope of weathering them, that we had not room to wear; there was a tre 
 mendous sea running, the ship driving forecastle under ; no chance of 
 weathering the land, which could now be seen ahead, bearing E. by N., 
 running out in small lumps, and surrounded with dreadful breakers. Our 
 only hope of safety was in getting the ship in stays ; the mainsail was set 
 with the utmost expedition, and we were so fortunate as to succeed : after 
 getting the ship about, the jib and spanker were set, and the top-gallant- 
 yards sent down ; but, in a few moments, the jib was blown to pieces. My 
 first impression was that we had been set by the currents to the westward, 
 into the bay formed by the Cape St. Vincent and the coast of Terra del 
 Fuego ; and, as the gale was increasing, and night fast approaching, the thick 
 weather continuing, the wind directly on shore, with a tremendous sea, I saw 
 no prospect of saving the ship, but by carrying a heavy press of sail to* keep 
 off the lee shore, until the wind changed. We kept the lead constantly 
 going, and found our soundings ven regular at forty-five fathoms, rocky and 
 coral bottom. After standing to the VV.X.W. about an hour, the water 
 began to grow very smooth, which could on!} be occasioned by a sudden 
 change of the current; and whales appeared alongside the ship : this gave 
 me hopes of being to the eastward of St. Vincent, and in the Straits of Le 
 Mairu ; a sharp look-out was kept for the land, and at half past seven, to 
 our unspeakable joy, the land was discovered ahead, and on both bows, 
 distant about a mile. No doubts now remained, as to our being in the straits j 
 I therefore directed the helm to be put a- weather, and made all sail to the 
 southward, keeping the coast of Terra del Fuego close aboard, aid as we 
 undoubtedly had the first of the tide, we were swept through with great 
 rapidity, and at nine o clock we were clear of the straits. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 307 
 
 The land \ve first made and attempted to weather, was Cape San Diego, 
 on the coast of Staten Land : the appearance was dreary beyond descrip 
 tion ; perhaps, however, the critical situation of the ship, the foaming of the 
 breakers, the violence of the wind, and the extreme haziness of the weather, 
 may (all combined) have served to render the appearance more dreadful ; 
 but from the impression made by its appearance then, and from the description 
 given by others, I am induced to believe, that no part of the world presents a 
 more horrible aspect than Staten Land. The breakers appeared to lie about 
 half a mile from the shore ; while we were standing off, the whole sea, from 
 the violence of the current, appeared in a foam of breakers, and nothing but 
 the apprehension of immediate destruction could have induced me to have 
 ventured through it ; but, thanks to the excellent qualities of the ship, we 
 received no material injury, although we were pitching our forecastle under 
 with a heavy press of sail, and the violence of the sea was such, that it was 
 impossible for any man to stand without grasping something to support him 
 self. Those only can have an idea of our tormenting anxiety and dread, 
 from the time we discovered the breakers, until we made the land of Terra 
 del Fuego, who have, like us, supposed themselves in danger of shipwreck, 
 on a dreary, inhospitable, and iron-bound coast, inhabited only by savages, 
 where there was scarcely a hope, that one of the crew would survive the 
 fury of the storm and waves, or, even if he succeeded in getting on shore 
 alive, only to fall a victim to the merciless inhabitants of this gloomy region ; 
 nor can he conceive the excess of our joy in discovering the land, unless he, 
 in an instant, has been snatched from the danger of destruction which 
 seemed pending over him. Our fears and subsequent joys may, however, be 
 more easily imagined than described. Had we been, as we supposed, to the 
 northward of Cape St. Vincent, it would have required our utmost exertions, 
 under the heaviest press of canvas, to have kept the ship from going on 
 shore ; and the loss of a single spar, or the splitting of a top-sail, would 
 have sealed our destruction. Our making the breakers in the manner we 
 did, proved most fortunate, for had we passed through the straits without 
 discovering the land (which would have been the case, had we been one 
 mile farther north), I should have supposed myself to the east of Staten 
 Land, and after running the distance which I believed necessary to clear 
 Cape St. Johns, I should have steered a course that would have entangled 
 us in the night with the rocks and breakers about Cape Horn ; and had this 
 happened, thick and hazy as the weather continued, our destruction would 
 have been inevitable, as we could not have seen the danger one hundred 
 yards from the ship, even should we have been apprehensive, and on the 
 look-out for it, which would not have been the case. 
 
 At nine o clock we were clear of the Straits of Le Maire, and in that part 
 of the ocean so celebrated and dreaded for the violent gales and tremendous 
 and irregular seas which prevail. On the meridian of the 14th, the horizon 
 was somewhat clear ; the wind moderate, from the westward ; the sun shin 
 ing out bright ; and, with the exception of some dark and lowering clouds 
 to the northward, we had every prospect of pleasant weather. The cape 
 was now in sight, bearing north; and Diego Ramiries bearing northwest; 
 and the black clouds before mentioned, served well to give additional horror 
 to their dreary and inhospitable aspect. But so different was the tempera- 
 20 
 
308 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ture of the air, the appearance of the heavens, and the smoothness of the 
 sea, to everything we had expected, and pictured to ourselves, that we 
 could not but smile at our own credulity and folly, in giving credit to (what 
 we supposed) the exaggerated and miraculous accounts of former voyages. 
 But, while we were indulging ourselves in these pleasing speculations, the 
 black clouds, hanging over Cape Horn, burst upon us with a fury we little 
 expected, and reduced us in a few minutes to a reefed fore-sail, and close* 
 reefed main-top-sail, and in a few hours afterward to our storm stay-sails. 
 Nor was the violence of the winds the only danger we had to encounter; 
 for it produced an irregular and dangerous sea, that threatened to jerk away 
 our masts, at every roll of the ship. With this wind we steered to the 
 southward, with a view of getting an offing from the land, in expectation of 
 avoiding, in future, the sudden gusts, and the irregular seas, which we sup 
 posed were owing to violent currents, and confined to the neighborhood of the 
 coast ; but in this expectation we were much disappointed ; for, as we re 
 ceded from the coast, the unpleasantness of the weather, and the freshness 
 of the gale, increased ; and it was in vain that we hoped for that moderate 
 and pleasant weather, which former navigators have generally experienced 
 in the latitude of sixty degrees south, which we reached on the 18th. From 
 the time we lost sight of the land, until this period, the gales blew hard 
 from the northwest, accompanied with heavy rains, cold disagreeable wea 
 ther, and a dangerous sea. 
 
 On the 24th, after experiencing a heavy gale from the N.W., I had the 
 extreme satisfaction to find ourselves as far to the westward as eighty de 
 grees ; and as the wind shifted and blew from the S.W., I had no doubt of 
 being able to effect our passage into the Pacific Ocean ; and I took an op 
 portunity of thanking my crew for their good conduct, during our boisterous 
 and unpleasant passage around the cape ; encouraged them to a continuance 
 of it, by holding out prospects of indulgence to those who should so dis 
 tinguish themselves ; and, as some thefts had been committed, for which 
 the perpetrators were then under the punishment of wearing a" yoke, I gave 
 a general pardon, on condition that the first offender brought to the gang 
 way should receive three dozen lashes. 
 
 It was with no little joy, we now saw ourselves fairly in the Pacific Ocean, 
 and calculating on a speedy end to all our sufferings ; every hour seemed to 
 brighten our prospects and give us fresh spirits ; and on the last of February, 
 being in the latitude of fifty degrees south, the wind became moderate and 
 shifted to the northward, the sea smooth, and every prospect of mild and 
 pleasant weather. I consequently determined to replace the guns, and get 
 the spars on the spar-deck ; but before we had effected this, the wind had 
 freshened up to a gale, and by noon had reduced us to our storm stay-sail 
 and close-reefed main-top-sail ; it, in the afternoon, hauled around to the 
 westward, and blew with a fury far exceeding anything we had yet experi 
 enced, bringing with it such a tremendous sea, as to threaten us every mo 
 ment with destruction, and appalled the stoutest heart on board. To attempt 
 to convey an idea of the fury of this gale by description, would be fruitless ; 
 lot it suffice to say, that it was rarely equaled, and I am sure never was ex 
 ceeded. From the excessive violence with which the wind blew, we had 
 strong hopes that it would be of short continuance ; until, worn out with 
 
OF AMERICANS. 309 
 
 fatigue and anxiety, greatly alarmed with the terrors of ajee-shore and in 
 momentary expectation of the loss of our inasts and bowsprit, we almost 
 considered our situation hopeless ; and to add to our distress, our pumps had 
 become choaked by the shingle ballast, which, from the violent rolling of 
 the ship, had got into them ; the ship made a great deal of water, and the 
 sea had increased to such a height, as to threaten to swallow us at every in 
 stant ; the whole ocean was one continued foam of breakers, and the heaviest 
 squall that I ever before experienced, had not equaled in violence the most 
 moderate intervals of this tremendous hurricane. 
 
 Th e whole of the 1st and 2d of March, we anxiously hoped for a change, 
 but in vain ; our fatigues had been constant and excessive ; many had been 
 severely bruised, by being thrown, by the violent jerks of the ship, down the 
 hatchways, and I was particularly unfortunate, in receiving three severe 
 falls, which at length disabled mo from going on deck ; the oldest seaman 
 in the ship had never experienced anything to equal the gale. We had 
 done all in our power to save the ship (except throwing her guns overboardi 
 which I reserved for the last extremity), and now patiently waited for the 
 tempest to lull. It had already blown three days without abating ; the 
 ship had resisted its violence to the astonishment of all, without having re 
 ceived any considerable injury ; and we began to hope, from her buoyancy, 
 and other good qualities, we should be enabled to weather the gale. We 
 had shipped several heavy seas, that would have proved destructive to 
 almost any other ship ; but, to us, they were attended with no other incon 
 veniences, than the momentary alarm they excited, and that arising from the 
 immense quantity of water, which forced its way into every part of the 
 ship, and kept everything afloat between decks. However, about three 
 o clock of the morning of the 3d, the watch only being on deck, an enor 
 mous sea broke over the ship, and for an instant destroyed every hope. Our 
 gun-deck ports were burst in ; both boats on the quarters stove ; our spare 
 spars washed from the chains ; our head-rails washed away, and hammock 
 stanchions burst in ; and the ship perfectly deluged and water logged, imme 
 diately after this tremendous shock, which threw the crew into conster 
 nation. The gale began to abate, and in the morning we were enabled to 
 set our reefed fore-sail. In the height of the gale, Lewis Price, a marine, 
 who had long been confined with a pulmonary complaint, departed this life, 
 and was this morning committed to the deep ; but the violence of the sea 
 was such, that the crew could not be permitted to come on deck, to attend 
 the ceremony of his burial, as their weight would have strained and endan 
 gered the safety of the ship. 
 
 When this last sea broke on board us, one of the prisoners, the boatswain 
 of the Nocton, through excess of alarm, exclaimed, that the ship s broadside 
 was stove in, and that she was sinking ; this alarm was greatly calculated 
 to increase the fears of those below, who, from the immense torrent of water 
 that was rushing down the hatchways, had reason to believe the truth of his 
 assertion ; many who were washed from the spar to the gun- deck, and from 
 their hammocks, and did not know the extent of the injury, were also greatly 
 alarmed ; but the men at the wheel, and some others, wno .vere enabled by 
 a good grasp to keep their stations, distinguished themselves by their cool 
 ness and activity after the shock ; and I took this opportunity of advancing 
 
310 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 them one grade, by filling up the vacancies occasioned by those sent in 
 prizes, and those who were left at St. Catharines ; rebuking, at the same 
 time, the others for their timidity. 
 
 On the 5th of the month, having passed the parallel of Chili, our suffer 
 ings appeared at an end, for we enjoyed pleasant and temperate weather, 
 with fine breezes from the southward ; and we had a distant vieiv of part 
 of the Andes, which appeared covered with snow." 
 
 They were all in high spirits and in momentary expectation of falling in 
 with some of the enemy s ships. On the 6th she anchored at Mocha a smalj 
 uninhabited land off the coast of Chili, where some wild horses were shot 
 for fresh meat. 
 
 " I now considered myself in a good position to meet vessels plying between 
 Conception and Valparaiso ; and as the health of the crew, and state of my 
 provisions, or the distresses of the ship, did not yet render my going into 
 port absolutely necessary, I determined to keep the sea awhile longer, in 
 hopes of meeting some of the enemy s ships, and thereby obtain such sup 
 plies as would render it entirely unnecessary to make ourselves known on 
 the coast, until we were about quitting it. From the 8th until the llth^ 
 the weather continued foggy, and the winds light and baffling from the 
 northward, which prevented us from making any headway, and during their 
 continuation deprived us of all hope of discovering vessels. Nothing could 
 now exceed our impatience. On the latter part of the 12th, light airs sprang 
 up from the S.W., and the weather began to clear off slowly, and every eye 
 was engaged in searching for a sail, as the fog moved to leeward. Nothing^ 
 however, was to be seen but a wide expanse of ocean, bounded on the east 
 by the dreary, barren, and iron-bound coast of Chili, at the back of which 
 the eternally snow-capt mountains of the Andes reared their lofty heads, 
 and altogether presented to us a scene of gloomy solitude, far exceeding 
 anything I ever before experienced." 
 
 The wind freshening up enabled the Essex to make sail to the northward 
 for Valparaiso. They were disappointed in the appearance of the coast 
 which had a wild desolate aspect, with no signs of inhabitants. It was 
 skirted with a black gloomy rock against the perpendicular sides of which 
 the sea beat with fury. On the 13th the Essex rounded the point of Angels, 
 when in an instant the whole town of Valparaiso, shipping with their colors 
 flying, and the forts burst out as it were from behind the rocks. " The scene 
 presented to us," says Porter, "was as animated and cheerful as it \vas sudden 
 .and unexpected ; and had I not hoisted English colors, I should have been 
 tempted to run in and anchor. A moment s reflection induced me to believe, 
 that, under existing circumstances, it would not be advisable to do so, as 
 several large Spanish ships, with their sails bent, and in readiness for sea, 
 were lying in the port ; and as those vessels were, beyond doubt, bound to 
 the northward, and in all probability to Lima, I concluded on keeping the 
 sea a few days longer, to give them time to get out, in order that intelligence 
 might not be given by them of an American frigate being in this part of the 
 world." 
 
 The ship s head consequently was turned to the northward and she ran 
 the town out of sight in an hour or so. Two days after she returned, went 
 in and anchored. To the astonishment of Captain Porter, he now ascertained 
 
OF AMERICANS. 311 
 
 that Chili had declared herself independent of Spain. He also learned that 
 the Viceroy of Peru, had sent out cruisers against American shipping, and 
 that his appearance in the Pacific was of the greatest importance to the 
 A/nerican trade, which lay at the mercy oi the English letters of marque, 
 and of these Peruvian corsairs. This was cheering intelligence after the 
 fatigues and disappointments of so many months. Capt. Porter waited upon 
 tLe governor, Don Francisco Lastre, who welcomed him in the most friendly 
 reception, and returned his visit with a numerous suite of officers. Many 
 of these had never before seen a frigate, it being the first that since their 
 recollection had entered their port. They were much pleased and aston- 
 Lhed that "Anglo-Americans" could build, equip and manage ships of so 
 large a size. 
 
 Agreeably to invitation, the officers of the Essex attended a party given 
 by the governor, " where we found," says Porter, " a much larger and more 
 brilliant assemblage of ladies, than we could have expected in Valparaiso. 
 We found much fancy and considerable taste displayed in their dress, and 
 many of them, with the exception of teeth, very handsome, both in person 
 and in face ; their complexion remarkably fine, and their manners modest 
 and attracting. This was our first impression on entering a room, containing 
 perhaps two hundred ladies, to whom we were perfect strangers. Minuets 
 were introduced; country dances followed; and the ladies had the com 
 plaisance and patience to attempt with my officers, what they had never 
 before seen in the country, a cotillion. The intricacies of their country 
 dance were too great for us to attempt ; they were greatly delighted in by 
 those who knew them, and admitted a display of much grace. With their 
 grace, their beauty of person and complexion, and with their modesty, we 
 were delighted, and could almost fancy we had gotten amongst our own 
 fair country -women ; but in one moment the illusion vanished. The lallas 
 de tierra, as they are all called, commenced : they consisted of the most 
 graceless, and at the same time fatiguing movements of the body and limbs, 
 accompanied by tlie most indelicate and lascivious motions, gradually in 
 creasing in energy and violence, until the fair one, apparently overcome 
 with passion, and evidently exhausted with fatigue, was compelled to retire 
 to her seat ; her rosy cheeks and fair complexion disappeared in the large 
 drops of sweat which ran trickling down her neck and breast, and were suc 
 ceeded by the sallow tinge which nature had bountifully bestowed. 
 
 They daub themselves most lavishly with paint ; but their features are 
 agreeable, and their large dark eyes are remarkably brilliant and expressive ; 
 and were it not for their bad teeth, occasioned by the too liberal use of the 
 matti, would, notwithstanding the Chilian tinge, be thought handsome, 
 particularly by those who had been so long as we out of the way of seeing 
 many women. 
 
 The matti is a decoction of the herb of Paraguay, sweetened with sugar, 
 and sucked hot through a long silver tube ; to the use of this beverage the 
 Chilians are perfect slaves. The taste is agreeable, but it occasions trrrible 
 havoc among the teeth. We returned on board our ship, pleased with the 
 novelties of a Chilian ball, and much gratified by the solicitude shown by 
 every one to make our stay among them agreeable. 
 
 The customs of the inhabitants of this place differ so materially from our 
 
312 -ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 own (and perhaps from those of every other people), that I cannot help 
 noticing a few particulars that struck me as the most singular. At all their 
 entertainments, the principal guest is placed at the head of the table, the 
 host on one side of him, and the hostess on the other ; and their principal 
 business appears to be to cram him with a part of everything before him. 
 This duty they are apt to perform most effectually, if he happens, like me, 
 to be a stranger, and not aware of the variety of changes that are to be 
 brought on, each one more and more inviting in their appearance and taste. 
 
 There is another practice at their balls or evening parties, which at first 
 gave me some embarrassment. A very large silver dish, filled with sweet 
 jelly, was presented to me by a servant, as well as a silver plate and fork ; 
 believing that the whole dish could not be intended for me, I attempted to 
 take the plate ; this the servant objected to ; I then attempted to take the 
 dish, but to this she also objected ; I felt, however, certain that it was in 
 tended for me to eat in some way or other, and was determined to do it 
 in that way which appeared the most natural and convenient; I therefore 
 took from her the plate and fork, and helped myself to as much as I thought 
 I should want. The eyes of all the company, however, were on me, and I 
 perceived that I had made some mistake, which I was soon convinced of, 
 for the servant brought another plate with a fork, which was handed with 
 the sweetmeats around to the company, and each one made use of the same 
 fork to take a mouthful, holding their heads carefully over the dish in order 
 that nothing might fall from their mouths to the floor ; the fork was then 
 laid on the plate, and passed to the next. The matti is taken with as little 
 regard to the delicacy or cleanliness. When the cup containing it is brought 
 in, one of the company blow* into it, through the silver tube, until a high 
 froth is produced ; it is then considered properly prepared. The same matti 
 and tube is then passed around the room, and each one takes in turn a suck 
 of it, with much apparent relish and delight ; but, considering the rotten 
 teeth and unsavoury breaths of the Chilians, there could not be a dose of 
 fered more repulsive to a delicate stomach, than this same frothy matti, 
 served up in their style. It is also a practice for one glass of water, one 
 spoon, or one cigar, to be served to the whole company, and one would 
 almost be led to believe that they had a particular relish for the taste of each 
 other s dirty mouths. A Ohilian lady would be ashamed to be seen walking 
 arm -and arm with a gentleman ; and their refinement is so great, that it is 
 thought indelicate even to accept his hand in any way, except in dancing, 
 when, to be sure, everything like delicacy is laid aside. They are, however, 
 extremely hospitable and attentive to strangers ; and if they have their 
 peculiar customs, which seem strange to us, we no doubt have our own, 
 equally deserving their animadversion." 
 
 " For more than a week the Essex was employed in victualing, and during 
 this time an American whaler came in from the islands. According to the 
 accounts of the master of this vessel, the American whalers, which had 
 left home during a time of peace, lay entirely at the mercy of those of the 
 enemy, several of which had sailed as regular letters of marque, and all of 
 which were more or less armed. Many of the American vessels, as they 
 often kept the sea six months at a time, were probably still ignorant of the 
 war: and it was known that one of them, at least, had already fallen into 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 the hands of the English. As soon as imperfectly victualed, the ship went 
 to sea, to profit by this intelligence. 
 
 On the 25th, the Essex fell in with the American whale ship Charles, and 
 learned that two other vessels, the Walker and Barclay, had been captured, 
 a few days previously, off Coquimbo, by a Peruvian, with an English ship 
 in company. Sail was made, in consequence, in the direction of Coquimbo, 
 and, a few hours later, a stranger was seen to the northward. This vessel 
 was soon ascertained to be a cruising ship, disguised as a whaler. She 
 showed Spanish colors, when the Essex set an English ensign, fired a gun 
 to leeward, and the Charles which remained in company, hoisted the Ameri 
 can flag, beneath an English jack. The Spaniard now ran down, and, wheii 
 about a mile distant, he fired a shot ahead of the Essex, which that ship 
 answered by throwing a few shot over him, to bring him nearer. When 
 close enough, the Spanish ship sent an armed boat to board the Essex, and 
 it was directed to go back with an order for the cruiser to run under the 
 frigate s lee, and to send an officer to apologize for the shots he had fired at 
 an English man-of-war. This command was complied with, and the ship 
 was ascertained to be the Peruvian privateer Nereyda, armed with fifteen guns, 
 and with a full crew. The lieutenant, who now came on board, believing 
 that he was on board of an English man-of-war informed Captain Porter 
 that they were cruising for Americans; that they had already taken the 
 Walker and Barclay ; that the English letter of marque Nimrod had driven 
 their prize-crew from on board the Walker ; that they were then cruising 
 expressly to look for the Nimrod, with the intention of obtaining redress ; 
 and that they had mistaken the Essex for the latter ship. It would seem 
 that the Peruvians cruised against the Americans, under the impression that 
 Spain, then so dependent on England for her existence, would declare war 
 speedily against the United States, in consequence of the war declared by 
 the latter against the King of Great Britain, which might legalize their 
 captures. 
 
 An interview with the master of the Walker satisfied Captain Porter that 
 the captured ships had been illegally seized ; and hoisting American colors, he 
 fired two shots over the Nereyda, when that vessel struck. Her crew were 
 all sent on board the Essex, and the three ships stood in-shore to look into 
 Coquimbo, in the hope of finding the Nimrod and the prizes, but without 
 success. The next morning the entire armament of the Nereyda, with all 
 her ammunition, shot, small arms, and light sails, were thrown overboard, 
 and she was otherwise put in a condition to do no harm, when she was re 
 leased. It is worthy of remark, that the guns of this vessel were of iron, 
 while her shot of all descriptions were of copper; the abundance of the 
 latter in that part of the world, rendering it cheaper than the metal usually 
 employed for such purposes. 
 
 From the master and crew of the Barclay, Captain Porter obtained a list 
 of such of the whaling vessels as they knew to be in the Pacific. It con 
 tained the names of twenty-three Americans, and of ten English ships. 
 The former was probably the most correct, as his informants added that 
 quite twenty Englishmen were thought to be in that sea. The latter were, 
 in general, fine vessels of near four hundred tuns burden, and, as has been 
 said already, they were all more or less armed. 
 
314 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Captain Porter had now a double object ; to protect his countrymen and 
 to capture the enemy. The latter were known to resort to the Gallipagos 
 Islands, but he hesitated about striking a blow in that quarter, until he could 
 be assured that the Standard sixty-four, had left Lima for England ; and, as 
 he thought the prizes of the Nimrod and Nereyda would endeavor to go 
 into that port, he determined to make the best of his way thither, in order 
 to cut them off, as well as to reconnoiter. 
 
 In the meanwhile Captain Porter disguised his ship, which was done in 
 s .ch a manner as to conceal her real force and exhibiting in its stead the 
 appearance of painted guns, etc., also by giving her the appearance of having 
 a poop and otherwise so altering her, as to make her seem to be a Spanish 
 merchant vessel. 
 
 "On the 28th of April, the ship was up with the island of San Gallan, 
 when she hauled off to the northward and westward, with a view to cross 
 the track of inward-bound vessels. The next day, three sail were made, 
 standing for Callao. Everything was set to out the strangers off, particularly 
 the one nearest in, who had the appearance of the Barclay. The chase, 
 however, would have escaped, had she not been becalmed when she doubled 
 the point of San Lorenzo. At this moment the frigate was near a league 
 distant, but, fortunately, she kept the breeze until she had got within a 
 hundred yards of the enemy, when she lowered her boats, and took posses 
 sion. The prize proved to be the Barclay, as had been expected. There 
 was now a good opportunity of looking into the harbor, arid finding that 
 nothing had arrived from Valparaiso to disclose his presence in the Pacific, 
 Captain Porter showed English colors, while the Barclay hoisted the Ameri 
 can under the enemy s ensign. In this manner both vessels went into tho 
 offing, where the Barclay was given up to her proper officers, though most 
 of her crew having entered in the Essex, and declining to rejoin the ship, 
 her master preferred keeping in company with the frigate, offering to act as 
 a pilot in searching for the enemy. With this understanding, the two ves 
 sels stretched off the coast, to the northward and westward. From the end 
 of March until the middle of April, the Essex, with the Barclay in company, 
 was standing across from the main toward the islands, and on the 17th, 
 she made Chatham Island ; but no ship was found there. From this place 
 the frigate went to Charles Island, where she had the same want of suc 
 cess. 
 
 Both of these islands belong to the Galapagos group. Lieutenant Downea 
 went ashore at Charles Island and returned with several papers taken from 
 a box which he found nailed to a post, over which was a black sign on 
 which was painted Hathaway s post-ojjke. They contained the. information 
 already received of the practice of whaling vessels touching there and cruis 
 ing among the other islands for whales. From these papers information was 
 obtained that in the June previous, six English whale ships had put in there 
 on their way to the island of Albermarle, where they generally cruised for a 
 year at a time. There were also letters from the commanders of three 
 American whalers, showing that they had touched in there. Lieutenant 
 Downes found near the post-office on this island several articles for such 
 persons as might be left there in distress, and, besides a suit of clothes, 
 tinder-box, and a barrel of bread, was left a cask of water. " This island ia 
 
OF AMERICANS. 315 
 
 mountainous (as are the whole group), and is covered with trees from fifteen 
 to twenty feet in length, scattered with considerable regularity, as to distance 
 and appearance, on the sides of the hills, which all have evident marks of 
 volcanic origin ; hut what seems remarkable is, that every tree on the island, 
 at least all that could be approached by the boat s crew on shore, and such 
 as we could perceive by means of our perspectives, were dead and withered. 
 These islands are all evidently of volcanic production ; every mountain and 
 hill is the crater of an extinguished volcano ; and thousands of smaller fis 
 sures, which have burst from their sides, give them the most dreary, desolate, 
 and inhospitable appearance imaginable. The description of one island will 
 answer for all I have yet seen ; they appear unsuited for the residence of 
 man, or any other animal that cannot, like the tortoise, live without food, 
 or cannot draw its subsistence entirely from the sea. 
 
 On the east side of the island there is a landing called Pat s Landing ; and 
 this place will probably immortalize an Irishman, named Patrick Watkins, 
 who some years since left an English ship, and took up his abode on this 
 island, built himself a miserable hut, about a mile from the landing called 
 after him, in a valley containing about two acres of ground capable of culti 
 vation, and perhaps the only spot on the island which affords sufiicient 
 moisture for the purpose. Here he succeeded in raising potatoes and pump 
 kins in considerable quantities, which he generally exchanged for rum, or 
 sold for cash. The appearance of this man, from the accounts I have re 
 ceived of him, was the most dreadful that can be imagined ; ragged clothes, 
 scarce sufficient to cover his nakedness, and covered with vermin ; his red 
 hair, and beard matted, his skin much burnt, from constant exposure to the 
 sun, and so wild and savage in his manner and appearance, that he struck 
 every one with horror. For several years this wretched being lived by 
 himself on this desolate spot, without any apparent desire than that of pro 
 curing rum in sufficient quantities to keep himself intoxicated, and at such 
 times, after an absence from his hut of several days, he would be found in 
 a state of perfect insensibility, rolling among the- rocks of the mountains. 
 He appeared to be reduced to the lowest grade to which human nature is 
 capable. 
 
 We were little prepared to meet our second disappointment, in not find 
 ing vessels at Charles Island, but consoled ourselves with the reflection, that 
 we should now soon arrive at Albermarle, and that in Banks Bay, the gen 
 eral rendezvous, we should find an ample reward for all our loss of time, 
 sufferings, and disappointments ; and as we had a fine breeze from the east, 
 I made all sail, steering west from Charles Island, to make the south head 
 of the island of Albermarle, which was distant from us about forty-five 
 miles, and in the morning found ourselves nearly up with it. When we 
 had arrived within eight or nine miles of a point, which I have named 
 Point Essex, the wind died away, and I took my boat and proceeded for the 
 aforesaid point, where I arrived in about two hours after leaving the ship, 
 and found in a small bay, behind some rocks which terminate the point, 
 very good landing, where we went on shore, and to our great surprise, and no 
 little alarm, on entering the bushes, found myriads of guanas, of an enormous 
 size and the most hideous appearance imaginable. In some spots a half acre 
 of ground would be so completely covered with them, as to appear as though 
 
316 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 it was impossible for another to get in the space ; they would all keep their 
 eyes fixed constantly on us, and we at first supposed them prepared to attack 
 us. We soon however discovered them to be the most timid of animals, and 
 in a few moments knocked down hundreds of them with cur clubs, some 
 of which we brought on board, and found to be excellent eating, and many 
 preferred them greatly to the turtle. 
 
 We found on the beach a few seals, and one fine large green turtle. Sev 
 eral of the seals were killed by our men, and proved of that kind which do 
 not produce the fur. Nothing can be more sluggish or more inactive than 
 this animal while on the sand ; it appears incapable of making any exertions 
 whatever to escape those in pursuit of it, and quietly waits the blow which 
 terminates its existence. A small blow on the nose will kill them in an in 
 stant, but when they are in water, or even on the rocks, nothing can exceed 
 their activity : they seem then to be a different animal altogether ; shy, 
 cunning, and very alert in pursuit of their prey, and in avoiding pursuit, 
 they are then very difficult to take. After trying in vain to catch some fish, 
 we left the cove, and proceeded along the shore to the northward, with the 
 expectation of finding another landing-place, but were much disappointed ; 
 for, after rowing as far as Point Christopher, a distance of fifteen miles, we 
 found the shore everywhere bound with craggy rocks, against which the sea 
 broke with inconceivable violence. Multitudes of enormous sharks were 
 swimming about us, and from time to time caused us no little uneasiness, 
 from the ferocious manner in which they came at the.boat and snapped at our 
 oars ; for she was of the lightest construction, with remarkably thin plank, 
 and a gripe from one of these would have torn them from her timbers ; 
 but we guarded as much as lay in our power against the evil, by thrust 
 ing boarding pikes into them as they came up to us. 
 
 Perceiving a breeze springing up, I hastened on board where, on my arrival, 
 I caused all sail to be made, and shaped my course for Narborough Island, 
 which now began to show itself open with Point Christopher. I was in 
 hopes that the breeze would carry us clear of the northern point of that 
 island before daj-light, in order that we might have the whole of the next 
 day for securing our prizes in Banks Bay, which lies between Narborough 
 and the south head of Albermarle. To Banks Bay the fishermen resort 
 every year, between March and July, to take the whale, which come in 
 there in great numbers at that season." 
 
 My anxiety was such that I was induced to dispatch Lieutenant Downes 
 to take a look around the point of Narborough and reconnoiter the bay ; for 
 the ship had been swept by the current during the night, into Elizabeth 
 Bay. 
 
 At one o clock in the morning, Lieutenant Downes returned to the ship, 
 which he was enabled to find by means of flashes made from time to time 
 by us, and reported that he did not arrive at the north point of Naborough. 
 or Turtle s Nose, until near sundown, and that he could perceive no ves 
 sels in the bay ; but observed, at the same time, that the weather was hazy, 
 and as the bay is about thirty-five miles from side to side, and about the 
 same depth, it was possible for vessels to have been there without his being 
 able to observe them. 
 
 The winds continued light and a-head, and the current strong against us, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 317 
 
 and it was not till the afternoon of 23d that we were enabled to weather 
 Narborough. On doubling the point of Narborough, our yards were com 
 pletely manned by seamen and officers, whose anxiety had taken them aloft, 
 all examining strictly every part of the bay, but could discover no vessels ; 
 at length the cry of sail lio ! and shortly afterward another, seemed to elec 
 trify every man on board, and it seemed now as if all our hopes and expec 
 tations were to be realized ; but in a few minutes those illusory prospects 
 vanished, and as sudden dejection, proceeding from disappointment, took 
 place ; for the supposed sails proved to be only white appearances on the 
 fchore. Still, however, we did not despair. Lieutenant Downes was dis 
 patched to reconnoiter, and returned to the ship at one o clock in the morning ; 
 and, to complete our disappointment, reported that he had seen no vessels. 
 
 Early the next morning I took a boat and explored the basin which I 
 found of surpassing beauty, with everything that could be desired to afford 
 perfect security for a ship of the largest size. From the basin we proceeded 
 to the watering place about half a mile distant. On the side of a rock at 
 this place we found the names of several English and American ships cut, 
 whose crews had been there ; and but a short distance from thence was 
 erected a hut, built of loose stones, but destitute of a roof; and in the neigh 
 borhood of it were scattered in considerable quantities the bones and shells 
 of land and sea tortoises. This I afterward understood was the work of a 
 wretched English sailor, who had been landed there by his captain, destitute 
 of everything, for having used some insulting language to him. Here he 
 existed near a year on land tortoises and guanas, and his sole dependence 
 for water was on the precarious supply he could get from the drippings of 
 the rocks ; at length, rinding that no one was likely to come to take him 
 from thence, and fearful of perishing for the want of water, he formed a 
 determination to attempt at all hazards getting into Banks Bay, where the 
 ships cruise for whales, and with this view provided himself with two seal 
 skins, with which, blown up, he formed a float ; and, after hazarding de 
 struction from the sharks, which frequently attacked his vessel, and which 
 he kept off with the stick that served him as a paddle, he succeeded at 
 length in getting alongside an American ship early in the morning, where 
 his unexpected arrival not only surprised but alarmed the crew ; for his ap 
 pearance was scarcely human ; clothed in the skins of seals, his countenance 
 haggard, thin, and emaciated, his beard and hair long and matted, they sup 
 posed him a being from another world. The commander of the vessel 
 where he arrived felt a great sympathy for his sufferings, and determined 
 for the moment to bring to punishment the villain who had, by thus cruelly 
 exposing the life of a fellow-being, violated every principle of humanity ; 
 but from some cause or other he was prevented from carrying into effect his 
 laudable intentions, and to this day the poor sailor has not had justice done 
 him." 
 
 The Essex continued passing from island to island, without meeting with 
 anything, until her crew was aroused by the cheering cry of "sail ho !" on 
 the morning of the 29th. A ship was made to the westward, and, soon 
 after, two more a little further south. Chase was given to the first vessel, 
 which was spoke under English colors, about nine A. M. She proved to b 
 he British whale ship Montezuma, with one thousand four hundred barrels 
 
318 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of oil on board. Throwing a crew into the prize, the Essex next made sail 
 after the two other ships, which had taken the alarm, and endeavored to 
 escape. At eleven A. M., when the frigate was about eight miles from the 
 two strangers, it fell calm, and the boats were hoisted out and sent against 
 the enemy, tinder Mr. Downes, the first lieutenant. About two p. M., the 
 party got within a mile of the nearest ship, when the two strangers, who 
 were a quarter of a mile apart, hoisted English colors, and fired several guns. 
 The boats now formed, and pulled for the largest ship, which kept training 
 her guns on them as they approached, but struck without firing a shot, just 
 as the boarders were closing. The second vessel imitated her example, 
 when attacked in the same manner. 
 
 The prizes were the Georgiana and the Policy, both whalers ; and the 
 three ships, together, furnished the Essex with many important supplies. 
 They had bread, beef, pork, cordage, water, and among other useful things, 
 a great number of Galapagos tortoises." 
 
 " Those extraordinary animals, the tortoises of the Galapagos, properly 
 deserve the name of the elephant tortoise. Many of them were of a size 
 to weigh upward of three hundred weight ; and nothing, perhaps, can be 
 more disagreeable or clumsy than they are in their external appearance. 
 Their motion resembles strongly that of the elephant ; their steps slow, 
 regular, and heavy ; they carry their body about a foot from the ground, and 
 their legs and feet bear no slight resemblance to the animal to which I have 
 likened them ; their neck is from eighteen inches to two feet in length, and 
 very slender ; their head is proportioned to it, and strongly resembles that 
 of a serpent ; but, hideous and disgusting as is their appearance, no animal 
 can possibly afford a more wholesome, luscious, and delicate food than they 
 do ; the finest green turtle is no more to be compared to them, in point of 
 excellence, than the coarsest beef is to the finest veal ; and after once tast 
 ing the Galapagos tortoises, every other animal food fell greatly in our es 
 timation. These animals are so fat as to require neither butter nor lard to 
 cook them, and this fat does not possess that cloying quality, common to 
 that of most other animals ; and when tried out, it furnishes an oil superior 
 in taste to that of the olive. The meat of this animal is the easiest of di 
 gestion, and a quantity of it, exceeding that of any other food, can be eaten 
 without experiencing the slightest inconvenience. But what seems the most 
 extraordinary in this animal, is the length of time that it can exist without 
 food ; for I have been w r ell assured, that they have been piled away among 
 the casks in the hold of a ship, where they have been kept eighteen months, 
 and, when killed at the expiration of that time, were found to have suffered 
 no diminution in fatness or excellence. They carry with them a constant 
 supply of water, in a bag at the root of the neck, which contains about 
 two gallons ; and on tasting that found in those we killed on board, it proved 
 perfectly fresh and sweet. They are very restless when exposed to the light 
 and heat of the sun, but will lie in the dark from one year s end to the 
 other without moving ; in the day-time, they appear remarkably quick- 
 sighted and timid, drawing their head into their shell on the slightest mo 
 tion of any object ; but they are entirely destitute of hearing, as the loudest 
 noise, even the firing of a gun, does not seem to alarm them in the slightest 
 degree, and at night, or in the dark, they appear perfectly blind. 
 
OF AMERICANS, 319 
 
 "The Georgiana had been built for the service of the English East India 
 Company, and having the reputation of being a fast vessel, Captain Porter 
 determined to equip her as a cruiser, with the double purpose of having an 
 assistant in looking for the enemy, and possessing a consort to receive his 
 own crew in the event of any accident occurring to the Essex. This ship 
 was pierced for eighteen guns, and had six mounted when taken. The 
 Policy was also pierced for the same number, and had ten guns mounted. 
 The latter were now added to the armament of the Georgiana, which gave 
 her sixteen light guns. All the small arms were collected from the prizes 
 and put in her, her try-works were taken down, and other alterations made, 
 when Mr. Downes was placed in command with a crew of forty-one men. 
 By this arrangement, it was believed that the Georgiana would be fully able 
 to capture any of the English letters of marque, known to be cruising among 
 the islands. In consequence of these changes, and the manning the two 
 other prizes v notwithstanding several enlistments, the crew of the Essex was 
 reduced to two hundred and sixty-four souls, officers included. On the 8th 
 of May, the Georgiana sixteen, Lieutenant Commandant Downes, hoisted 
 the American pennant, and fired a salute of seventeen guns. 
 
 It being uncommonly fine weather, Captain Porter seized the opportunity 
 of repairing his own ship, by means of the stores obtained from the enemy. 
 The rigging was overhauled and tarred down, many new spars were fitted, 
 and the ship was painted in the middle of the Pacific, the enemy furnishing 
 the means." 
 
 A few trials, as soon as the ships made sail, proved that the Georgiana 
 could not hold way with the Essex, and that her reputation, as a fast vessel, 
 was unmerited. Still, as she had been relieved from much of her lumber, 
 she outsailed the other ships and hopes were entertained of her being made 
 useful. Accordingly, on the 12th, she parted company, with orders to cruise 
 against the enemy, and to rendezvous at different places on the coast, as well 
 as at various islands, in a regular succession as to time. The separation was 
 not long, however, the Georgiana looking into Charles Island, in quest of 
 English vessels, at a moment when the Essex happened to be there on the 
 same errand. 
 
 The Georgiana was now sent to Albermarle Island, Captain Porter having 
 retison to suppose that a particular ship of the enemy was in that quarter. 
 The chaplain, having been allowed to make a short scientific excursion in 
 boats, fell in with a strange sail on returning, and v the Essex immediately 
 went to sea in quest of her. But a cruise of several days was fruitless ; 
 and the ship continued passing among the islands, in the hope of falling in 
 with something. An attempt to get across to the continent was defeated by 
 the lightness of the winds and the strength of the westerly currents ; und 
 on the 25th of May, the Essex was still in the neighborhood of Charles 
 Island. 
 
 On the afternoon of the 28th, however, a sail was made ahead, and a 
 general chase was given, the Policy, Montezuma, and Barclay being all in 
 company. At sunset, the stranger was visible from the frigate s deck. By 
 distributing the vessels in a proper manner, the chase was in sight next 
 tnornin-g ; and after a good deal of maneuvering, the Essex got alongside of 
 her, and captured the British whaler Atlantic, of three hundred and fifty- 
 
320 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 five tuns, twenty-four men, and eight eighteen-pound carronades. This 
 ship, however, was pierced for twenty guns. 
 
 Another strange sail had been made while in chase of the Atlantic, and 
 she was pursued and overtaken in the course of the night. This ship was 
 the Greenwich, of three hundred and thirty-eight tuns, ten guns, and twenty- 
 five men. Both the Atlantic and Greenwich had letters of marque, and 
 being fast ships, were extremely dangerous to the American tiade in the 
 Pacific. When the Essex took these vessels, every officer but the captain, 
 the chaplain, captain s clerk, and boat-swain, were out of her, either ia 
 boats, or in prizes ; r the first having been lowered in a calm to chase, and 
 left to be picked up by the Montezuma, when a breeze struck the frigate." 
 
 The captain of the Greenwich had taken a good stock of Dutch courage, 
 and had made preparations to fire into the Essex, when a shot from the 
 latter so intimidated him that he hove to and surrendered. The captain of 
 the Atlantic was an American from Nantucket where he had a wife and 
 family. "On his first coming on board the Essex, he expressed his extreme 
 pleasure in finding as he supposed we were an English frigate in those seas. 
 lie informed me that he had sailed from England under convoy to the Java 
 frigate, and had put into Port Praya a few days after the Essex, an American 
 frigate, had left there ; and that the Java had sailed immediately in pursuit 
 of her, and that it was the general belief the Essex had gone around the 
 Cape of Good Hope. He parted with the Java after crossing the line, and 
 on his arrival at Conception heard she had been sunk off Bahia by the 
 American frigate Constitution. On inquiry respecting the American vessels 
 in the South Seas, he informed me that about Conception was the best place 
 to cruize . _/r them, for he had left at that place nine of them in an unpro 
 tected and defenseless state, and entirely at a loss what to do with them 
 selves ; that they were almost daily arriving there, and that he had no doubt, 
 by going off there, we should be enabled to take the most of them. I asked 
 him how he reconciled it to himself to sail from England under the British 
 flag, and in an armed ship, after hostilities had taken place between the two 
 countries. He said he found no difficulty in reconciling it to himself, for, 
 although he was born in America, he was an Englishman at heart. This 
 man appeared the polished gentleman in his manners, but evidently possessed 
 n corrupt heart, and, like all other renagades, was desirous of doing his na 
 tive country all the injury in his power, with the hope of thereby ingratiating 
 himself with his new friends. I permitted him to remain in his error some 
 time, but at length introduced to him the captains of the Montezuma and 
 the Georgiana, who soon undeceived him with respect to our being an Eng 
 lish frigate. I had felt great pity for the last two gentlemen, and had made 
 the evils of war bear as light on them as possible, by purchasing of them, 
 for the use of the crew, their private adventures, consisting of slop-clothing, 
 tobacco, and spirits, for which they were sincerely grateful ; but to this man 
 I could not feel the same favorable disposition, nor could I conceal my in 
 dignation at his conduct : he endeavored to apologize away the impression 
 his conduct had made, by artfully putting the case to myself; and, with 
 a view of rendering him easy, as I did not wish to triumph over the 
 wretch, I informed him that I was willing to make some allowances for his 
 conduct. 
 
OP AMERICANS. 321 
 
 After the capture of the Greenwich, I informed her commander, John 
 Shuttleworth, as well as Obediah Wier, of the Atlantic, that I felt every 
 disposition to act most generously toward them. Shuttleworth was however 
 so much intoxicated, and his language so insulting, that it was with difficulty 
 I could refrain from turning him out of my cabin. Wier was more reserved 
 during my presence there ; but, duty requiring me on deck, he, in the pre 
 sence of some of the officers, used the most bitter invectives against the 
 government of the United States ; and he, as well as Shuttleworth, con 
 soled themselves with the pleasing hope, that British frigates would soon 
 be sent to chastise us for our temerity in venturing so far from home. 
 
 The next day I let them feel that they were dependent entirely on my 
 generosity, which was greater than they either deserved or expected, and 
 this haughty Englishman, who would wish to have terrified us with the 
 name of a Briton, and this renegade, who would have sacrificed the interests 
 of his country, were now so humbled by a sense of their own conduct, and 
 of what they merited, that they would have licked the dust from my feet 
 had it been required of them to do so. 
 
 Our fleet now consisted of six sail of vessels, without including the 
 Georgiana. On board of the last captured vessels I put a siifficient number 
 of men to fight their guns, giving lieutenant M Knight charge of the At 
 lantic, and, for want of sea-officers, I put lieutenant Gamble of the marines 
 in charge of the Greenwich. Volunteers continued to offer from the cap 
 tured vessels, and my whole effective force in those seas now consisted of 
 the Essex, mounting forty-six guns, and two hundred and forty-five men ; 
 Georgiana, sixteen guns, and forty-two men ; Atlantic, six guns, and twelve 
 men ; Greenwich ten guns, and fourteen men ; Montezuma, two guns, and ten 
 men ; Policy, ten men making in all, eighty guns, and three hundred and 
 thirty-three men ; together with one midshipman and six men on board the 
 Barclay. My prisoners amounted in number to eighty ; but as I had di 
 vided them among the different ships, giving them full allowance of pro 
 visions, on condition of their giving their assistance in working, we found 
 them as useful as our own men in navigating the prizes ; so that our whole 
 number, including the prisoners, amounted to four hundred and twenty, and 
 all in good health, with the exception of some of the prisoners, who were 
 slightly affected with the scurvy. 
 
 It seems somewhat extraordinary, that British seamen should carry with 
 them this propensity to desert even into merchant vessels, sailing under the 
 flag of their nation, and under circumstances so terrifying; but yet I am in 
 formed, that their desertion while at Charles Island has been very common, 
 even when there was no prospect whatever of obtaining water but from the 
 bowels of the tortoises. This can only be attributed to that tyranny so 
 prevalent on board their ships-of-war, which has crept into their merchant 
 vessels, and is there aped by their commanders. Now, mark the difference. 
 While the Essex lay at Charles Island, one-fourth of her crew was every 
 day on shore, and all the prisoners who chose to go ; and I even lent tbe 
 latter boats, whenever they wished it, to go for their amusement to the 
 other side of the island. No one attempted to desert, or to make their es 
 cape ; whenever a gun was fired, every man repaired to the beach, and no 
 one was ever missing when, the signal was made." 
 
322 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Captain Porter now shaped his course for the mouth of the Tumbez tr. 
 the northern coast of Chili where he anchored on the 19th of June. 
 
 " As soon as they had got within two leagues, the leading vessel hove to 
 and sent in a boat, on board of which was Mr. Downes. By this arrival an 
 account of the movement of the Georgiana was obtained. 
 
 While cruising near James Island, Mr. Downes had captured the British 
 whale ships, the Catharine, of two hundred and seventy tuns, eight guns and 
 twenty-nine men, and the Rose, of two hundred and twenty tuns, eight guns^ 
 and twenty-one men. These two vessels were taken with no resistance, their 
 masters having come on board the Georgiana, without suspecting her char 
 acter. After manning his prizes, Mr. Downes had but twenty men and boys 
 left in the Georgiana, when he chased and closed with a third whaler, called 
 the Hector, a ship of two hundred and seventy tuns, twenty-five men, and 
 eleven guns, though pierced for twenty. At this time, Mr. Downes had also 
 fifty prisoners, most of whom he was compelled to put in irons, before he 
 brought the Hector to action. When within hail, the latter ship was ordered 
 to haul down her colors, but refused, and the Georgiana opened a fire upon 
 her. A sharp combat followed, when the Hector struck, with the loss of 
 her main-topmast, having had most of her standing and running-rigging shot 
 away. She had also two men killed, and six wounded. 
 
 After manning the Hector, Mr. Downes had but ten men left in the Greor- 
 giana ; and, including the wounded, he had seventy-three prisoners. The 
 Rose being a dull ship, he threw overboard her guns, and most of her cargo, 
 and parolling his prisoners, he gave her up to them, on condition that they 
 should sail direct for St. Helena. As soon as this arrangement was made, he 
 made sail for Tumbez, to join the Essex. 
 
 The little fleet now amounted to nine sail, and there was an opportunity 
 to make new arrangements. The Atlantic being nearly one hundred tuns 
 larger than the Georgiana, as well as a much faster ship, besides possessing, 
 in a greater degree, every material quality for a cruiser, Mr. Downes and his 
 crew were transferred to her. Twenty guns were mounted in this new sloop- 
 of-war ; she was named the Essex Junior, and manned with sixty men. The 
 Greenwich was also converted into a store-ship, and all thespare stores 
 of the other vessels were sent on board her. She was also armed with 
 twenty guns, though her crew was merely strong enough to work her." 
 
 On first anchoring at Tumbez the governor came aboard to pay his re 
 spects, "Although their appearance was as wretched as can well be imag 
 ined, policy induced me to show them every attention ; and, to impress 
 them with a belief of my friendly disposition and respect, I gave them a 
 salute of nine guns on their coming on board ; and while they remained 
 with me, which was until the next day, I paid every attention to them in 
 my power, although their contemptible appearance, which frequently excited 
 the risibility of my crew, made me sometimes blush for my guests. They 
 left me with assurances of the most friendly disposition on their part, and 
 he most pressing invitation for me to go to Tumbez, which I promised to 
 do in the -course of a day or two. The next day I visited the town or hamlet. 
 It is situated about six miles from the river s mouth, on the left bank of the 
 first rising ground you meet with ; from thence to the mouth of the river 
 the land is all low, similar to that of the Mississippi, covered with rushes 
 
OF AMERICANS. 323 
 
 reeds, and mangroves, and here and ther-e, on the most elevated parts, are to 
 be found the huts where the natives have settled themselves, for the purpose 
 of cultivating the soil, which produces, in great abundance, cocoa, corn, 
 plantains, melons, oranges, pumpkins, sugar-cane, sweet potatoes, etc. 
 Their houses are formed of reeds, covered with rushes, open at all sides, and 
 having the floor elevated about four feet from the earth, to protect them 
 from the alligators, which are here numerous and of enormous size. One of 
 them fifteen feet in length, and of the most hideous appearance, I killed 
 with a musket ball. 
 
 The inhabitants of Tumbez gave me the most friendly reception, every 
 where invited me into their huts, where hogs, dogs, fowls, jackasses, men, 
 women, and children, were grouped together, and from whence, in a few 
 minutes, 1 was always glad to make my escape, from the innumerable swarms 
 of fleas with which they were infested ; and the house of the governor was 
 no more exempt from this plague than those of the plebeians, of which 
 his wife and naked children bore innumerable testimonies, in the large red 
 blotches on their necks and bodies. The men of this place seem to be of the 
 lowest class of those who call themselves civilized ; and the women, although 
 of fine forms, animated, cheerful, and handsome countenances, are destitute 
 of all that delicacy, the possession of which only can render the female 
 lovely in our eyes." 
 
 "On the 30th, the fleet sailed, the Essex and Essex Junior keeping in 
 company, with all the carpenters at work at the latter. On the 4th of July, 
 a general salute was fired, principally with the guns and ammunition of the 
 enemy. On the 9th, the Essex Junior parted company, bound to Valparaiso, 
 with the Hector, Catharine, Policy, and Montezuma, prizes, and the Barclay, 
 recaptured ship, under convoy. 
 
 As soon as out of sight of the other ships, the Essex, Greenwich and 
 Georgiana steered to the westward, with an intention of going among the 
 Galapagos. On the 13th, three sail were made off Banks Bay, all on a wind, 
 and a good deal separated. The Essex gave chase to the one in the center, 
 which led her down to leeward, leaving the Greenwich and Georgiana a long 
 distance astern and to windward. While the frigate was thus separated from 
 her pnafls, Orje of the strangers tacked, and endeavored to cut the latter off, 
 but the Greenwich hove-to,ot a portion of the people out of the Georgiana, 
 and bore down boldly on her adversary ; while the Essex continued after 
 the vessel she was chasing, which she soon captured. The ship was the 
 English whaler Charlton, of two hundred and seventy-four tuns, ten guns, 
 and twenty-one men. Throwing a crew into her, the frigate immediately 
 hauled her wind. 
 
 It was now ascertained from the prisoners, that the largest of the strange 
 ships was the Seringapatam, of three hundred and fifty-seven tuns, fourteen 
 guns, and near forty men ; and the smallest, the New Zealander, of two 
 hundred and fifty-nine tuns, eight guns, and twenty-three men. The Ser 
 ingapatam had been built for a cruiser, and she was probably the most dan 
 gerous vessel to the x\merican trade to the westward of Cape Horn. Captain 
 Porter felt a corresponding desire to get possession of her, and was much 
 gratified with the bold manner in which the Greenwich had borne down on 
 her. This ship was linger the command of a verv young officer, but he had 
 21 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the advice of one of the sea-lieutenants, who was under suspension, :ind who 
 behaved with great gallantry and spirit on this occasion. Closing with tha 
 Seringapatam, the Essex being a long distance to leeward, the Greenwich 
 brought her to action, and after a few broad-sides, the English ship struck. 
 Soon after, however, and before possession could be taken, she made an at- 
 tempt to escape by passing to windward, in which she was frustrated by tho 
 perseverance of the/ Greenwich, which vessel kept close on the enemy s 
 quarter, maintaining a spirited fire, for the number of men on board. Ai 
 the Essex was coming up fast, the Seringapatam finally gave up the attemr/ 
 and running down to the frigate, again submitted. 
 
 In this affair, as in that of the boats, and in the capture of the Hector by 
 the Georgiana, the officers and men engaged merited high encomiums for 
 their intrepidity and coolness. The Greenwich, after obtaining the hands 
 from the Georgiana, did not probably muster five-and-twenty men at quarte^ 
 and the Seringapatam was much the better ship. The New Zealander was 
 taken without any difficulty. 
 
 The Seringapatam had made one prize, her master having turned his at 
 tention more to cruis-ing than to whaling. On inquiry, notwithstanding, it 
 was found that he had adopted this course in anticipation of a commission, 
 having actually sailed without one. When this fact was ascertained, Cap 
 tain Porter put the master in irons, and he subsequently sent him to America 
 to be tried. Finding himself embarrassed with his prisoners, Captain Porter 
 gave them up the Charlton, and suffered them to proceed to Rio de Janeiro, 
 under their parole. He then took the guns out of the New Zealander, and 
 mounted them in the Seringapatam, by which means he gave the latter ship 
 an armament of twenty-two guns, though, as in the case of the Greenwich, 
 her people were barely sufficient to work her. 
 
 On the 25th of July, the Georgiana was dispatched to the United States, 
 with a full cargo of oil. In making up a crew for her, an opportunity was 
 found of sounding the feelings of the men whose times were nearly expired, 
 and it was ascertained that few wished to profit by the circumstance. As 
 soon as the vessels separated, the Essex, with the Greenwich. Seringapatam, 
 and New Zealander in company, shaped her course for Albermarle Island. 
 On the morning of the 28th, another strange sail was discovered ; but aa 
 she had a fresh breeze, and the frigate was becalmed, she was soon out ot 
 sight. When the wind came, however, the Essex ran in a direction to in 
 tercept the stranger ; and the next morning he was again seen, from the 
 mast-head, standing across the Essex s bow, on a bowline. As the wind 
 was light, recourse was now had to the drags, and the ship got within four 
 miles of Uie chase, which was evidently an enemy s whaler. The stranger 
 becoming alarmed, got his boats ahead to tow, when Captain Porter sent a 
 gig and whale-boat, with a few good marksmen in them, under Acting Lieu* 
 tenant M Knight, with orders to take a position ahead of the chase, anil to 
 drive in her boats, but on no account to attempt to board. This duty was 
 handsomely executed, though the boats had great difficulty in maintaining 
 their position within musket-shot, as the enemy got two guns on the foio- 
 castle, and kept- up a warm discharge of grape. 
 
 At 4 P. M , the ships were little more than a league apart, perfectly bo 
 calmed, anci 7* ain Porter ordered the boats into the water, to carry tha 
 
OF AMERICANS. 325 
 
 stranger by boarding. As the party drew near, the enemy commenced firing, 
 but intimidated by their steady and orderly approach, he soon lowered his 
 ensisrn. The boats were about to take possession, when a breeze from the 
 eastward suddenly striking the English ship, she hauled up close on a wind, 
 hoisted her colors again, fired at the gig and whale-boat as she passed quita 
 near them, and went off, at a rapid rate, to the northward. The party at 
 tempted to follow, but it was sunset before the Essex got the wind, and, dis 
 liking to leave her boats out in the darkness, she was compelled to heave to, 
 at nine, in order to hoist them in. The next morning the chase was out of 
 sight. 
 
 This was the first instance, since her arrival in the Pacific, in which the 
 Essex had failed in getting alongside of a chase that she did not voluntarily 
 abandon. It produced much mortification, though the escape of the enemy 
 was owing to one of those occurrences, so common in summer, that leavo 
 one ship without a breath of air, while another, quite near her, has a good 
 breeze. 
 
 On the 4:th of August, the ships went into James Island and anchored. 
 Here Captain Porter made the important discovery that a large portion of 
 his powder had been damaged in doubling Cape Horn. Fortunately, the 
 Seringapatam could supply the deficiency, though, in doing so, that ship was 
 rendered nearly defenseless." 
 
 On this island Captain Porter lost a most promising young officer by a dis 
 graceful practice. Without his knowledge two of kis officers met on shore 
 at daylight to engage in a duel and at the third fire Mr. Cowan fell dead. 
 His remains were buried the same day in the spot where he fell, and the 
 following inscription was placed over his tomb : 
 
 Sacred to the memory 
 
 OF LIEUT. JOHN S. COWAN, 
 
 Of the U. S. Frigate Essex, 
 
 Who died here anno 1813, 
 
 Aged 21 years. 
 
 His loss is ever to be regretted 
 
 By his country ; 
 
 And mourned by his friends 
 
 And brother officers. 
 
 "On the morning of the 20th August, got under way ; but, prior to my 
 leaving the place, I buried a letter for Lieutenant Downes, in a bottle at the 
 head of Mr. Cowan s grave, and a duplicate of the same at the foot of a 
 finger-post, erected by me, for the purpose of pointing out to such as may 
 hereafter visit the island the grave of Mr. Cowan ; and, with a design of 
 misleading the enemy, I left in a bottle suspended at the finger-post, the 
 following note : 
 
 The United States frigate Essex arrived here on the 21st July, 1813, her 
 crew much afflicted with the scurvy and sbip-fever, which attacked them 
 suddenly, out of which she lost the first lieutenant, surgeon, sailing-master, 
 two midshipmen, gunner, carpenter, and thirty-six seamen and marines. 
 
326 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 She captured in this sea the following British ships, to-\vit : Montezuma, 
 Policy, Atlantic, Catharine, Rose, Hector, Charlton. Georgiana, Greenwich, 
 Seringapatam, and New Zealander ; but, for want of officers and men to man 
 them, the four last were burnt ; the Rose and Charlton were given up to the 
 prisoners. 
 
 The Essex leaves this in a leaky state, her foremast very rotten in the 
 partners, and her mainmast sprung. Her crew have, however, received great 
 benefit from the tortoises and other refreshments which the island affords. 
 Should any American vessel, or indeed a vessel of any nation, put in here, 
 and meet with this note, they would be doing an act of great humanity 
 to transmit a copy of it to America, in order that our friends may know of 
 our distressed and hopeless situation, and be prepared for worse tidings, if 
 they should ever again hear from us," etc. 
 
 Two days later, the vessels reached Banks Bay, where the prizes were 
 moored and the Essex sailed in a short cruise alone on the 24th. 
 
 "After passing among the is]ands, without meeting anything, a sail was 
 discovered on -the morning of 15th of September, apparently lying to, a long 
 distance to the southward and to windward. The Essex was immediately 
 disguised, by sending down some of the light yards, and the ship kept 
 turning to windward, under easy sail. At meridian, the vessels were so near 
 each other, that the stranger was ascertained to be a whaler, in the act of 
 cutting in. He was evidently drifting down fast on the frigate. At 1 p. M 
 when the ships were about four miles apart, the stranger cast off from the 
 whales, and made all sail to windward. As it was now evident that he had 
 taken the- alarm, the Essex threw aside all attempts at disguise, and pursued 
 him, under everything that would draw. By 4 p. M. the frigate had the 
 stranger within reach of her guns, and a few shot well thrown, brought him 
 down under her lee. This ship was the Sir Andrew Hammond, of three 
 hundred and one tuns, twelve guns, and thirty -one men ; and she proved to 
 be the vessel that had escaped, in the manner previously related. Fortu 
 nately, the prize had a large supply of excellent beef, pork, bread, wood, 
 and water, and the Essex got out of her an ample stock of those great 
 necessaries. On returning to Banks Bay with her prize, the ship shortly 
 after was joined by the Essex Junior, on her return from Valparaiso. By 
 this arrival, Captain Porter discovered that several enemy s vessels of force 
 had sailed in pursuit of him ; and having by this time captured nearly all 
 the English whalers of which he could obtain intelligence, he determined 
 to proceed to the Marquesas, in order to refit, and to make his preparations 
 for returning to America. He was urged to adopt this resolution, also, by 
 understanding from Mr. Downes,. that the government of Chili no longer 
 preserved the appearance of amity toward the United States, but was getting 
 to be English in its predilections." 
 
 In summing up the important services rendered by the Essex in coming 
 into the Pacific, Captain Porter says : "In the first place, by our captures, 
 we have completely broken up that important branch of British navigation, 
 the whale-fishery of the coast of Chili and Peru, as we have captured all 
 their vessels engaged in that pursuit except the aforesaid ship Comet. By 
 tiiese captures we have deprived the enemy of property to the amount of 
 two and a half millions of dollars, and of the services of three hundred 
 
OF AMERICANS. 327 
 
 and sixty seamen that I liberated on parole, not to serve against the United 
 States until regularly exchanged. We have effectually prevented them 
 from doing any injury to our own whale-ships, only two of which have 
 been captured, and their captures took place before our arrival. Shortly 
 after my appearance in those seas, our whale-ships, which had taken refuge 
 at Conception and Valparaiso, boldly ventured to sea in pursuit of whales, 
 and on the arrival of the Essex Junior at Valparaiso, four of them had returned 
 there with full cargoes. The expense also of employing the frigate Phoebe, 
 the sloops of war Raccoon and Cherub, and their store-ship, should also be 
 taken into the estimate of the injury we have done them ; for it is evident 
 that they would not* have been sent into the Pacific had it not been for the 
 appearance of the Essex there, as for many years past they have employed 
 no ships of war ir. this part of the world, nor were those sent until they had 
 heard of our arrival at Valparaiso. 
 
 It appears by my estimate, that the balance against the British, occasioned 
 by our coming into this sea, is five million one hundred and seventy 
 dollars ; for there cannot be a doubt that all our whale-ships would have 
 been captured, had we not effectually prevented it by the capture of all of 
 theirs. 
 
 We have also taken ten prize-ships. Those now in company are as follows : 
 Essex Junior, twenty guns ; Greenwich, twenty guns ; Seringapatam, twenty- 
 two guns ; New Zealander, ten guns ; and Sir Andrew Hammond, ten guns. 
 We have dispatched two ships for America to-wit : Georgiana and Policy, 
 and have three, the Montezuma, Catharine, and Hector safely moored under 
 the batteries of Valparaiso. All these vessels are copper sneeted and fast 
 ened and in a state to proceed to the most distant part of the world, some 
 of the remarkably fast sailors and all superior ships." 
 
 On the 24th of October they discovered the island of Rooahooga, one ot 
 the Washington group of the Marquesas Islands. This group consists of three 
 Islands, viz : Rooahooga, or Jefferson Island ; Rooapooah, or Adams Island, 
 and Novaheevah, or Madison Island. 
 
 " Its aspect, on first making it, was little better than the barren and des 
 olate islands we had been so long among ; but on our nearer approach 
 the fertile valleys, whose beauties were heightened by the pleasant streams 
 and clusters of houses, and intervened by groups of the natives on the hills 
 inviting us to land, produced a contrast much to the advantage of the islands 
 we were now about visiting indeed the extreme fertility of the soil, as it 
 appeared to us after rounding the southeast point of the island, produced 
 sensations we had been little accustomed to, and made us long for the fruits 
 with which the trees appeared everywhere loaded. 
 
 On rounding the southeast part of the island we saw a canoe coming off to 
 the ship with eight of the natives, one of whom was seated in the bow with hia 
 h^ad ornamented with some yellow leaves, which at a distance we supposed 
 to be feathers. They approached us very cautiously, and would not venture 
 alongside until we had run very close in. We had a native of the island 
 of Otaheite on board, who enabled them, but with apparent difficulty, to 
 comprehend our wishes, and who gave them repeated assurances of our 
 friendly disposition. They frequently repeated to us the word taya, which 
 signifies friend, and invited us to the shore. Their bodies were entirely 
 
328 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 naked, and their chief ornament consisted in the dark and fanciful Hues 
 formed by tattooing, which covered them. On their leaving us I bore 
 a .vay for several other canoes which were lanched from the different coves 
 with which the coast was indented, but nothing could induce them to come 
 near the ship. I was anxious to procure some refreshments, but more so to 
 obtain a knowledge of a people with whom the world is so little acquainted. 
 One of the canoes displayed a white flag : I caused a similar emblem of 
 peace to be exhibited, and after waiting some time, perceiving that they were 
 fearful of coming alongside, I caused two boats to be manned and armed, 
 and proceeded toward them. I soon approached them, and directed the 
 Otaheitan to inform them that we were friendly disposed, and were willing 
 to purchase of them the articles they had to sell, which consisted of hogs, 
 plantains, bread-fruit, cocoa-nuts, etc., and through the same medium 
 informed them that I should proceed to the shore, and there remain as a 
 hostage for their safety. Some of them went off to the ship, but the greater 
 number followed me to the shore, where they were collected in groups, armed 
 with their spears and war-clubs, to receive me, and collecting in considerable 
 numbers from every quarter. I went close in with my boat, where I made 
 an exchange of pieces of iron hoops and other articles for their ornaments 
 and fruits. In a few minutes the spears and war-clubs were laid aside, 
 and swarms of natives swam off to me loaded with the produce of the is 
 land : all seemed greatly to rejoice that we had so precious an article to 
 offer them as pieces of old iron hoops, which were held in such high esti 
 mation that good sized pigs were purchased for a few inches. Some, to ex 
 press their joy* were seen dancing on the beach with the most extravagant 
 gestures, while others expressed the pleasure they felt by shouting and 
 clapping their hands. But notwithstanding this friendly intercourse, it was 
 very evident that they had strong suspicions of us. They always approached 
 the boat with the greatest awe and agitation, and in every instance, where 
 articles were presented to them, they shrunk back with terror, and retreated 
 to the shore with the utmost precipitation. One among them, however, ven 
 tured to raise himself by the side of the boat, and perceiving a pistol lying 
 in the stern sheets, showed an evident desire to possess it. It was with 
 some difficulty I could make him let go his hold of the boat ; and to inti 
 midate him I presented the pistol at him ; but it produced no other effect 
 than joy, as he immediately held out both his hands to receive it, from 
 which I concluded that they were unacquainted with the use of fire-arms. 
 
 After leaving these friendly people I proceeded for the frigate, where I 
 found the traffic with the canoes that had gone off, had been conducted with 
 much harmony. Some of them I passed very close to on their return, and 
 the natives on board them expressed their extreme satisfaction by expres 
 sions of the most extravagant joy. One of them in the fullness of heart, 
 said he was so glad he longed to get on shore to dance. On rejoining the 
 ship, I was informed by the officers that the natives who had been on board, 
 had expressed much surprise at the sight of the goats, sheep, dogs, and 
 other animals, but what seemed most to astonish them, was one of the largo 
 Galapagos tortoises : it seemed as though they could not sufficiently feast 
 their eyes on it ; and to view it more at their ease they stretched themselves 
 at full length on the deck around :t and this appeared to be their general 
 
OF AMERICANS. 329 
 
 practice when they wished to view leisurely any object that excited their 
 attention, a practice which seems to bespeak the natural indolence of thi? 
 people. 
 
 The men of this island are remarkably handsome ; of large stature and 
 well proportioned : they possess every variety of countenance and feature, 
 and c great difference is observable in the color of the skin, which for the 
 most part is that of a copper color : but some are as fair as the generality of 
 working people much exposed to the sun of a warm climate. The old men 
 (but particularly the chiefs) are entirely black ; but this is owing entirely u> 
 the practice of tattooing with which they are covered all over, and it re 
 quires a close inspection to perceive that the blackness of their skin is owing 
 to this cause ; and when the eye is once familiarized with men ornamented 
 after this manner, we perceive a richness in the skin of an old man highly 
 tattooed comparable to that which we perceive in a highly wrought piece of 
 old mahogany : for, on a minute examination, may be discovered innumer 
 able lines curved, straight, and irregular, drawn with the utmost correctness, 
 taste and symmetry, and yet apparently without order or any determined 
 plan. The young men, the fairness of whose skin is contrasted by the or 
 naments of tattooing, certainly have, at first sight, a more handsome appear 
 ance than those entirely covered with it ; and in a short time we are induced 
 to think that tattooing is as necessary an ornament for a native of those is 
 lands as clothing is for a European. The neatness and beauty with which 
 this species of ornament is finished, served greatly to surprize us, and we 
 could not help believing that they had among them tafctooers by profession, 
 some of them no doubt, equal in celebrity to M Alpin and other renowned 
 tailors of America, for we afterward discovered that the most wealthy and high 
 class was more fully and handsomely tattooed than those of an inferior 
 station, which is a sufficient evidence that tattooing has its price. 
 
 The young girls, which we had an opportunity of seeing, were as I before 
 observed, handsome and well formed ; their skins were remarkably soft and 
 smooth, and their complexions no darker than many brunettes in America 
 celebrated for their beauty. Their modesty was more evident than that of 
 the women of any place we have visited since leaving our own country. 
 Nakedness they cannot consider offensive to modesty ; they are accustomed 
 to it from their infancy. I find no difficulty in believing, that an American 
 lady, who exposes to view her face, her bosom, and her arms, is as modest 
 and virtuous as the wife of a Turk, who is seen only by her husband ; or 
 that a female of Washington s Group, who is seen in a state of nature, may 
 be as modest and virtuous as either. That they have a high sense of shame 
 and pride, I had afterward many opportunities of observing/ 
 
 At daylight next morning they bore up for Noaheevah or Madison s Is- 
 l:md, where they put into a beautiful bay and came to an anchor. This 
 harbor was named by Captain Porter, Massachusetts Bay. Here he was 
 soon joined by the Essex Junior, which vessel had parted company to 
 cruise, when he believed himself sufficiently secure to commence a regular 
 overhauling of the ships. 
 
 Cooper, in his Naval History, says, " the situation of the Essex was suffi 
 ciently remarkable, at this moment, to merit a brief notice. She had been 
 the first American to carry the pennant of a man-of-war round the Cape of 
 
330 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Good Hope, and now she bad been the first to bring it into this distant ocean. 
 More than ten thousand miles from home, without colonies, stations, or even 
 A really friendly port to repair to, short of stores, without a consort, and 
 otherwise in possession of none of the required means of subsistence and 
 efficiency, she had boldly steered into this distant region, where she had 
 found all that she required, through her own activity and having swept 
 the seas of her enemies, she had now retired to those little-frequented islands 
 to refit, with the security of a ship at home. It is due to the officer, who 
 so promptly adopted, and so successfully executed this plan, to add, that 
 his enterprize, self-reliance and bkill, indicated a man of bold and masculine 
 conception, of great resources, and of a high degree of moral courage ; qual 
 ities that are indispensable in forming a naval captain." 
 
 When the Essex stood into the land a boat come off from the shore with 
 three white men in her, one of whom to Captain Porter s great astonishment 
 proved to be John M. Maury an American midshipman, who had left the 
 United States on furlough in a merchant ship. He had been left here by 
 the master of the vessel to gather sandal wood while the ship was gone to 
 China. As it was supposed the war would prevent the return of the ship, 
 Mr. Maury and his party were received on board the frigate. Wilson, one of 
 them, was an Englishman by birth. He had been many years in these is 
 lands and with the exception of a cloth around Ms loins was completely 
 naked. Hi* body was all over tattooed and in every respect except color ho 
 had become an Indian. He assisted Captain Porter as interpreter, and with 
 out his aid he would have succeeded badly on the island. 
 
 Captain Porter landed with a party of marines and sailors. "The drum 
 appeared to give them much pleasure ; and the regular movements of the 
 marines occasioned much astonishment. They said they were spirits or be 
 ings of a class different from other men. I directed them to be put through 
 their exercise ; and the firing of the muskets occasioned but little terror, 
 except among the women, who generally turned away their faces and covered 
 their ears with their hands. The men and boys were all attention to the 
 skipping of the balls in the water; but at every fire all habitually inclined 
 their bodies, as if to avoid the shot, although behind the men who were 
 firing. After remaining a short time with them, I distributed among them 
 some knives, fish-hooks, etc., which they received with much apparent plea 
 sure ; but no one offered, like the natives of the other island, anything in 
 return. 
 
 Observing the mountains surrounding the valleys to be covered with nu 
 merous groups of natives, I inquired the cause, and was informed that a 
 warlike tribe residing beyond the mountains had been for several weeks at 
 war with the natives of the valley, into which they had made several in 
 cursions, and had destroyed many houses and plantations, and had killed, 
 by cutting around the bark, a great number of bread-fruit trees. 
 
 I inquired if it were possible to get a message to them ; and was informed 
 that notwithstanding they were at war and showed no quarter to each cthei; 
 there were certain persons of both tribes, who were permitted to pass and 
 repass freely and uninterrupted from one tribe to another : such for example 
 as a man belonging to one tribe who had married a woman belonging to the 
 other. I inquired if any such were present ; and one being pointed out to 
 
OF AMERICANS. 331 
 
 me, I directed him to proceed to the Happahs and to tell them that I had 
 come with a force sufficiently strong to drive them from the island : and if 
 they presumed to enter into the valley while I remained there, I should 
 send a body of men to chastise them ; to tell them to cease all hostilities so 
 long as I remained among them ; that if they had hogs or fruit to dispose 
 of, they might come and trade freely with us, as I should not permit the 
 natives of the valley to injure or molest them. To the natives of the 
 valley who listened attentively and with apparent pleasure to the message 
 sent to the Happahs I then addressed myself, and assured them that I had 
 come with the most friendly disposition ; that I wanted nothing from them 
 but what I paid for : that they must look on us as brethren : and that I 
 should protect them against the Happahs should they again venture to de 
 scend from the mountains. I directed them to leave at home their spears, 
 slings, and clubs their only weapons of war in order that we might know 
 them from the Happahs ; and told them that I should consider all as my 
 enemies who should appear armed in my presence. All listened with much 
 attention : their spears and clubs were thrown on one side. My attention 
 was soon drawn to an object, which at the moment had presented itself. A 
 handsome young woman, of about eighteen years of age, her complexion 
 fairer than common, her carriage majestic, and her dress better and some 
 what different from the other females, approached. Her glossy black hair, 
 and her skin were highly anointed with the cocoa-nut oil, and her whole 
 person and appearance neat, sleek, and comely ; on inquiry who this digni 
 fied personage might be, I was informed that her name was Piteenee, a grand 
 daughter to the chief, or greatest man in the valley, whose name was Gatta- 
 newa. This lady, on whose countenance was not to be perceived any of 
 those playful smiles which enliven the countenances of the others, 1 was in 
 formed was held in great estimation, on account of her rank and beauty, and 
 I felt that it would be necessary, from motives of policy, to pay some atten 
 tions to a personage so exalted. She received my advances with a coldness 
 and hauteur which would have suited a princess, and repelled everything 
 like familiarity with a sternness that astonished me. 
 
 Gattanewa, the chief of the Tayehs, the tribe who inhabited this valley, 
 I was informed at the time of my landing, was at a fortified village, which 
 was pointed out to me, on the top of one of the highest mountains. The 
 manner of fortifying those places, is to plant closely on end, the bodies of 
 large trees, of forty feet in length, and securing them together by pieces of 
 timber strongly lashed across, presenting on the brow of a hill, difficult of 
 access, a breast- work of considerable extent, which would require European 
 artillery to destroy. At the back of this a scaffolding is raised, on which is 
 placed a platform for the warriors, who ascend by the means of ladders, and 
 thence shower down on their assailants spears and stones. 
 
 When the ship was moored, the shore was lined with the natives of both 
 sexes ; but the females were most numerous, waving their white cloaks or 
 caJtoes for us to come on shore. The boats were got out, and proceeded to 
 the shore, where on landing, they were taken complete possession of by tho 
 women, who insisted on going to the ship, and in a short time she was com 
 pletely filled by them, of all ages and descriptions, from the age of sixty 
 years to that of ten ; some as remarkable for their beauty, as others for their 
 
332 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ugliness. The ship was a perfect Bedlam from the time of their arrival 
 until their departure, which was not until morning, when they were put on 
 shore, not only with whatever was given them, but with whatever they 
 could lay their hands on. 
 
 The object of the greatest value at this as well as all the other islands of 
 this group, is whales teeth. No jewel, however valuable, is half so much 
 esteemed in Europe or America, as is a whale s tooth here : I have seen 
 them by fits laugh and cry for joy, at the possession of one of these darling 
 treasures. Some idea may be formed of the value in which they are held 
 by the natives, when it is known that a ship of three hundred tuns burden, 
 may be loaded with sandal- wood at this island, and fehe only object of trade 
 necessary to procure it, is ten whales teeth of a large size ; and for these the 
 natives will cut it, bring it from the distant mountains, and take it on board 
 the ship ; and this cargo in China, would be worth near a million of dollars. 
 I have seen this sandal-wood, that is so highly esteemed by the Chinese ; 
 indeed their infatuation for it, falls little short of that of the natives for 
 whales teeth it does not appear capable of receiving a high polish, nor is 
 its color agreeable ; the odor arising from it is pleasant, and the principal 
 uses to which the Chinese are said to apply it, is to burn it in their temples, 
 and to extract from it an oil, which is said to be of great value." 
 
 In a short time Gattanewa, the chief, came on board of the Essex. Most 
 of the warriors they had seen were highly ornamented with plumes and 
 were attired in all the gew-gaws of savage splendor. They generally carried 
 a black and highly polished spear or a club richly carved and their bodies 
 were elegantly tattooed. "What was my astonishment then, " says Porter, 
 "when Gattanewa presented himself; an infirm old man of seventy years 
 of age, destitute of every covering or ornament except a clout about his 
 loins, and a piece of palm leaf tied about his head : a long stick seemed to 
 assist him in walking ; his face arid body were as black as a negro s, from 
 the quantity of tattooing, which entirely covered them, and his skin was 
 rough, and appeared to be peeling off in scales, from the quantity of kava 
 (an intoxicating root) with which he had indulged himself. Such was the 
 figure that Gattanewa presented ; and as he had drank freely of the kava 
 before he made his visit, he appeared to be perfectly stupid. After he had 
 been a short time on deck, I endeavored to impress him with a high opinion 
 of our force ; and for this purpose assembled all my crew : it scarcely seemed 
 to excite his attention. I then caused a gun to be fired, which seemed to 
 produce no other effect on him, than that of pain ; he complained that it 
 hurt his ears; I then invited him below, where nothing whatever excited 
 his attentions, until I showed him some whales teeth : this roused the old 
 man from his lethargy, and he would not be satisfied, until I had permitted 
 him to handle, to measure and count them over and over, which seemed to 
 afford him infinite pleasure. After he had done this repeatedly, I put them 
 away ; and shortly afterward asked him if he had seen anything in the 
 ship that pleased him ; if he did to name it and it should be his : he told 
 me he had seen nothing which had pleased him so much as one of the small 
 whales teeth ; which on his describing, I took out and gave to him : this he 
 carefully wrapped up in one of the turns of his clout ; begging me not to 
 inform any person that he had about him an article of so much value : I 
 
OF AMERICANS. 333 
 
 assured him I should not ; and the old man threw himself on the settee and 
 went to sleep. In a few minutes he awoke, somewhat recovered from his 
 stupidity, and requested to be put on shore : he, however, previous to his 
 departure, wished me to exchange names with him, and requested me to 
 assist him in his war with the Happahs : to the first I immediately consented. 
 lie told me they had cursed the bones of his mother, who had died but a 
 abort time since : that as we had exchanged names, she was now my mother, 
 and I was bound to espouse her cause. I told him I would think of tho 
 subject, and did not think it necessary to make any farther reply to the old 
 man s sophistry. 
 
 Captain Porter now unbent the sails of the Essex and sent them on shore ; 
 landed his water casks with which he formed a complete inclosure : the ship 
 was hauled close within the beach and they began to make their repairs. A 
 tent was erected and the whole placed under a guard of marines. In the 
 meanwhile the Happahs descended in a large body into the valley and dis- 
 troyed an immense number of the bread-fruit trees. They sent word that 
 inasmuch as the Americans had not opposed them they believed they were 
 cowards and that they should visit their camp and carry off their sails. 
 Before proceeding to extremities, Captain Porter thought he could try and 
 frighten them out of their hostile notions. As Gattenewa made daily ap 
 plications for assistance, Captain Porter at length told him that if his people 
 would carry a heavy gun, a six pounder up to the top of a high mountain 
 which he pointed out to him he would send men up to work it and drive 
 away the Happahs who still kept possession of the surrounding hills. This 
 was unanimously agreed to by every man in the valley. On the gun being 
 landed he caused a few shot to be fired over the water first with ball and 
 then with grape shot, which last particularly so delighted those simple folks 
 that they hugged and kissed the gun and lay ed down beside it and caressed it 
 with the utmost fondness. 
 
 " While the natives were employed with their darling gun, I occupied my 
 self in forwarding as much as possible the ship s duty. No work was ex 
 acted from any person after four o clock in the afternoon ; the rest of the 
 day was given to repose and amusement. One fourth of the crew being 
 allowed after that hour to go on shore, there to remain until daylight next 
 morning. Everything went on as well as I could have wished, and much 
 better than I could possibly have expected. The day after the gun was 
 moved for the mountains, the chief warrior of the Tayehs named Mouina, 
 was introduced to me. He was a tall, well shaped man of about thirty-five 
 years of age, remarkably active, of an intelligent and open countenance, and 
 his whole appearance was prepossessing. He had just left the other warriors 
 in the fortified village, and had come down to request me to cause a musket 
 to be fired which he called a bouhi that he might witness its effects. 
 Several individuals of the tribe of the Happahs were at that moment about 
 the camp, and I was pleased at the opportunity which was afforded me to 
 convince them of the folly of resisting our fire-arms with slings and spears. 
 I fired several times myself at a mark to show them that I never failed of 
 hitting an object the size of a man. I then directed the marines to fire by 
 volleys at a cask, which was soon like a riddle. 
 
 Mouina appeared much pleased with the effect of our musketry; and 
 
334: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 frequently exclaimed, mattee, mattee! killed, killed! The Happahs, who 
 were present however, replied that nothing could persuade their tribe^that 
 bouhies could do them the injury that we pretended : that they were de 
 termined to try the effects of a battle, and if they should be beaten, that 
 they would be willing to make peace; but not before. I informed them 
 that they would not find me so ready to make peace after beating them, as 
 at present ; and that I should insist on being paid for the trouble they might 
 put me to. Seeing that these strange people were resolutely bent on trying 
 the effect of their arms against ours, I thought that the sooner they were con 
 vinced of thair folly the better. Indeed it became absolutely necessary to do 
 something; for the Happahs present informed me that their tribe believed 
 that we were afraid to attack them, as we had threatened so much, without 
 attempting anything; and this idea, I found, began to prevail among those 
 of our valley, which is called the valley of Tieuhoy, and the people Hav- 
 ouhs, Parques, Hoattas, etc., for the valley is subdivided into other valleys 
 by the hills, and each small valley is inhabited by distinct tribes, governed 
 by their own laws, and having their own chiefs and priests. 
 
 On the 28th October, Gattanewa, with several of the warriors, came to in 
 form me that the gun was at the foot of the mountain, where I had directed 
 it to be carried, and that it would have reached the summit by the time our 
 people could get up there. I informed them that, on the next morning at 
 daylight, forty men, with their muskets, would be on shore and in readiness 
 to march ; and as I supposed it would be impossible for our people to scale 
 the mountains, when incumbered with their arms, I desired them to send 
 me forty Indians for the purpose of carrying their muskets, and an equal 
 number to carry provisions as well as ammunition for the six pounder, which 
 they promised me should be done, and every arrangement was made accord 
 ingly, and the command of the expedition given to Lieutenant Dowues. 
 
 On the morning of the 29th the party being on shore, consisting chiefly 
 of the crew of the Essex Junior and the detachment of marines, each man 
 being furnished with an Indian to carry his arms, and spare Indians to carry 
 provisions and other articles, I gave the order to march. About eleven 
 o clock I perceived that our people had gained the mountains and were driving 
 the Happahs from height to height, who fought as they retreated, and daring 
 our men to follow them with threatening gesticulations. A native, who bore 
 the American flag, waved it in triumph as he skipped along the moun 
 tains they were attended by a large concourse of friendly natives, armed 
 as usual, who generally kept in the rear of our men. Mouina alone was 
 seen in the advance of the whole, and was well known by his scarlet cloak 
 and waving plumes. In about an hour we lost sight of the combatants and 
 saw no more of them until about four o clock, when they were discovered 
 descending the mountains on their return, the natives bearing five dead 
 bodies slung on poles. 
 
 Mr. Downes and his men soon afterward arrived at the camp, overcome 
 with the fatigue of an exercise to which they had been so little accustomed. 
 He informed me that on his arrival near the tops of the mountains, the Hap 
 pahs, stationed on the summit, had assailed him and his men with stones 
 and spears ; that he had driven them from place to place until they had 
 taken refuge in a fortress, erected in a manner before described, on the bro\ 
 
OF AMERICANS. 335 
 
 of a steep hill. Here they all made a stand, to the number of between three 
 and four thousand. They dared our people to ascend this hill, at the foot 
 of which they had made a halt to take breath. The word was given by 
 Mr. Downes to rush up the hill ; at that instant a stone struck him on the 
 belly and laid him breathless on the ground, and at the same instant one of 
 our people was pierced with a spear through his neck. This occasioned a 
 halt, and they Avere about abandoning any farther attempt on the place : but 
 Mr. Downes soon recovered, and finding himself able to walk gave orders 
 for a charge. Hitherto our party had done nothing. Not one of the enemv 
 had, to their knowledge, been wounded. They scoffed at our men, and ex 
 posed their posteriors to them, and treated them with the utmost contempt 
 and derision. The friendly natives also began to think we were not so 
 formidable as we pretended : it became, therefore, absolutely necessary that 
 the fort should be taken at all hazards. Our people gave three cheers, and 
 rushed on through a shower of spears and stones, which the natives threw 
 from behind their strong barrier, and it was not until our people entered the 
 fort that they thought of retreating. Five were at this instant shot dead ; 
 and one in particular, fought until the muzzle of the piece was presented to 
 his forehead, when the top of his head was entirely blown off. As soon as 
 this place was taken all further resistance was at an end. 
 
 It was shocking to see the manner the friendly natives treated such as 
 were knocked over with a shot ; they rushed on them with their war clubs 
 and soon dispatched them : then each seemed anxious to dip his spear into 
 the blood, which nothing could induce them to wipe off the spear, from 
 that time, bore the name of the dead warrior, and its value, in consequence 
 of that trophy, was greatly enchanced. r 
 
 Gattanewa was astonished at our victory which, to him, seemed incredible; 
 and the number of dead which they had borne off as trophies had far ex 
 ceeded that of any former battle within his recollection : as they fight for 
 weeks, nay for months sometimes, without killing any on either side, though 
 many are, in all their engagements, severely wounded. The Tayehs had, 
 however, a short time before our arrival, lost one of their priests of the 
 greatest note, who had been killed by an ambuscade of the Happahs ; and 
 this circumstance had occasioned a tabboo of the strictest nature to be es 
 tablished, which was now in full force and continued as long as we remained 
 on the island. 
 
 I am not acquainted with the ceremony of laying on these tabbooes, which 
 are so much respected by the natives. They are, however, laid by the priests, 
 from some religious motive. Sometimes they are general, and affect a whole 
 valley, as the present ; sometimes they are confined to a single tribe ; at 
 others to a family, and frequently to a single person. The word tabboo sig 
 nifies an interdiction, an embargo, or restraint ; and the restrictions during 
 the period of their existence may be compared to the lent of Catholics. 
 They have tabbooed places, where they feast and drink kava tabbooed 
 houses where dead bodies are deposited, and many of their trees, and even 
 some of their walks are tabbooed. 
 
 But, to proceed in my narrative : the Tayehs had brought in the bodies 
 of the five men killed in storming the fort. We met with no loss on our 
 side or on that of our allies. We had two wounded, and one of the Indians 
 
336 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 had his jaw broke with a stone. The dead Happahs I was informed were 
 lying in the public square, where the natives were rejoicing over them. I 
 had been informed by the whites, on my arrival, and even by Wilson, that 
 the natives of this island were cannibals : but, on the strictest inquiry, I 
 could not learn that either of them had seen them in the act of eating 
 human flesh. In conversing with Gattanewa on the subject, he did not 
 hesitate to acknowledge that it was sometimes practiced. He said they 
 Bometimes eat their enemies. I found it difficult to reconcile this practice 
 with the generosity and benevolence which were leading traits in their 
 character. They are cleanly in their persons, washing three or four times a 
 day : and also in their mode of cooking and manner of eating ; and it 
 was remarked, that no islander was known to taste of anything whatever, 
 until he had first applied it to his nose, and if it was in the slightest degree 
 tainted or offensive to the smell, it was always rejected. How then can 
 it be possible that a people so delicate, living in a country abounding 
 with hogs, fruit, and a considerable variety of vegetables, should prefer a 
 loathsome putrid human carcass, to the numerous delicacies their valleys 
 afford ? 
 
 I proceeded to the house of Gattanewa, which I found filled with women 
 making the most dreadful lamentations, and surrounded by a large concourse 
 of male natives. On my appearance there was a general shout of terror ; 
 all fixed their eyes on me with looks of fear and apprehension. I approached 
 the wife of Gattanewa, and required to know the cause of this alarm. She 
 said now that we had destroyed the Happahs they were fearful we should 
 turn on them : she took hold of my hand, which she kissed, and moistened 
 with her tears : then placing it on* her head, knelt to kiss my feet. She told 
 me they were willing to be our slaves, to serve us, that their houses, their 
 lands, their hogs, and everything belonging to them were ours ; but begged 
 that I would have mercy on her, her children, and her family, and not put 
 them to death. It seemed that they had worked themselves up to the 
 highest pitch of fear, and on my appearance with a sentinel accompanying 
 me, they could see in me nothing but the demon of destruction. I raised 
 the poor old woman from her humble posture, and begged her to banish her 
 groundless fears, that I had no intention of injuring any person residing in 
 the valley of Tieuhoy : that if the Happahs had drawn on themselves our 
 vengeance, and felt our resentment, they had none to blame but themselves. 
 I had offered them peace ; but they had preferred war ; I had proffered 
 them my friendship, and they had spurned at it. That there was no alterna 
 tive left m-e. I had chastised them, and was appeased. I then exhorted 
 the wife of Gattanewa to endeavor to impress on the minds of every person 
 the necessity of living on friendly terms with us ; that we were disposed to 
 consider them as brothers ; that we had come with no hostile intentions 
 toward them, and so long as they treated us as friends we would protect 
 them against all their enemies. The old woman was- all attention to my dis 
 course as delivered through Wilson the interpreter; and I was about pro 
 ceeding when she requested me to stop. She now rose and commanded 
 silence among the multitude, which had considerably augmented since my 
 arrival, and addressed them with much grace and energy in a speech :f 
 about half an hour; exhorting them, as I understood, to conduct themselves 
 
OF AMERICANS. 337 
 
 with propriety, and explaining to them the advantages likely to result from 
 a good understanding with us. After she had finished, she took me affec 
 tionately by the hand, and reminded me that I was her husband. 
 
 All alarms now were subsided. I inquired for Gattanewa, and was in 
 formed that he was at the public square rejoicing over the bodies of tho 
 slain, but had been sent for. I proceeded for the place and met the old man 
 hastening home. He had been out from the earliest dawn, and had not 
 broken his fast. He held in one hand a cocoa-nut shell, containing a quan 
 tity of sour preparation of the bread-fruit, which is highly esteemed by the 
 natives, and in the other a raw fish, which he occasionally dipped into it as 
 he ate it. As soon however as Wilson gave him to understand that the 
 practice of eating raw fish was disagreeable to me, he wrapped the re 
 mainder in a palm leaf, and handed it to a youth to keep for him until a 
 more convenient opportunity offered for indulging himself. On my way to 
 the square I observed several young warriors hastening along toward the 
 place armed with their spears, at the ends of which were hung plantains^ 
 bread -fruit, or cocoa-nuts, intended as offerings to their gods ; and on my 
 approach to the square, I could hear them beating their drums and chanting 
 their war-songs. I soon discovered five or six hundred of them assembled 
 about the dead bodies, which were lying on the ground. 
 
 We had but little opportunity of gaining a knowledge of the language of 
 these people while we remained among them ; but from the little we became 
 acquainted with, we are satisfied that it is not copious ; few words serve to 
 express all they wish to say ; and one word has oftentimes many significa 
 tions ; as for example, the word motee signifies I thank you, I have enough, I 
 do not want it, I do not like it, keep it yourself, take it away, etc. Maitee ex 
 presses every degree of injury which can happen to a person or thing from 
 the slightest harm to the most cruel death. Thus a prick of the finger is 
 mattee, to have a pain in any part is mattee ; mattee is to be sick, to be badly 
 wounded is mattee, and mattee is to kill or be killed, to be broke (when 
 speaking of inanimate objects), to be injured in any way, even to be dirtied 
 or soiled is expressed by the word mattee. Motakee, with slight variation of 
 the voice, signifies every degree of good, from a thing merely tolerable, to 
 an object of the greatest excellence ; thus it is, so, so good, very good, excellent : 
 it signifies the qualities and disposition of persons ; thus they are tolerable, 
 likely, handsome, or beautiful, good, kind, benevolent, generous, humane. Ke- 
 heva, which signifies bad, is as extensive in its use as motakee, and, by suita 
 ble modulations of the voice, has meanings directly opposite. This is tho 
 case with many other words in their language ; indeed, with all we became 
 acquainted with. Kie-kie signifies to eat, it also signifies a troublesome fellow. 
 
 The hogs of this island are generally of a small and inferior breed, but 
 there are many as large and as fine as those of any part of the world. Ac 
 cording to the traditions of the natives, many generations ago, a god named 
 Haii visited all the islands of the group, and brought with him hogs and fowls, 
 which he left among them. Ilaii was, no doubt, some navigator, who, near 
 four centuries ago, by their reckoning left the aforesaid animals among tho 
 natives. Our accounts of voyages made into this sea do not extend so far 
 back, and even if they did, we should be at a loss to know him from the 
 name given to him by the natives. We found it impossible for them to pro- 
 
338 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 nounce our names distinctly, even after the utmost pains to teach them, and 
 the most repeated trials on their part. They gave me the name of Opotee, 
 which was the nearest they could come to Porter. Mr. Downes was called 
 Onou; Lieutenant Wilmer, Wooreme; Lieutenant M Knight, Mucheetie, and 
 the name of every one else underwent an equal change. These names we 
 were called by and answered to so long as we remained with them ; and it is 
 not improbable that we shall be so called in their traditionary accounts. If 
 there should be no other means of handing our names down to posterity it 
 is likely wo shall be as little known to future navigators as Haii is to us. 
 The natives call a hog bouarJca, or rather Pouarlca ; and it is likely that they 
 still retain the name nearly by which they \vere first known to them. The 
 Spaniards call a hog porca, giving it a sound very little different from that 
 given by the natives of these islands ; and as the Spaniards were the earliest 
 navigators in these seas, there is scarcely a doubt that they are indebted to 
 one of that nation for so precious a gift. 
 
 The cocoa-nuts grow in great abundance in every valley of the island, and 
 are cultivated with much care. This tree is too well known to need a de 
 scription ; yet the mode used to propagate it may not be uninteresting. As 
 the cocoa-nuts become ripe, they are carefully collected from the tree, which 
 is ascended by means of a slip of strong bark, with which they make their 
 feet fast a little above the ankles, leaving them about a foot asunder ; they 
 then grasp the tree with their arms, feet, and knees, and the strip of bark 
 resting on the rough projections of the bark of the tree, prevents them from 
 slipping down : in this manner, by alternately shifting their feet and hands, 
 they ascend with great apparent ease and rapidity the highest tree. 
 
 The tarra is a root much resembling a yam, of a pungent taste, and ex 
 cellent when boiled or roasted. The sugar-cane grows to an uncommon 
 size here. The only use they make of it is to chew and swallow the juice. 
 
 The Jcava is a root possessing an intoxicating quality, with which the 
 chiefs are very fond of indulging themselves. They employ persons of a 
 lower class to chew it for them and spit it into a wooden bowl ; after which a 
 small quantity of water is mixed with it, when the juice is strained into a 
 neatly polished cup, made of a cocoa-nut shell, and passed round among 
 them : it renders them very stupid and averse to hearing any noise : it de 
 prives them of their appetite, and reduces them almost to a state of torpor : 
 it has the effect of making their skin fall off in white scales ; affects their 
 nerves, and no doubt brings on a premature old age. They applied the 
 word kava to everything we eat or drank of a heating or pungent nature as 
 rum or wine ; pepper, mustard, and even salt. 
 
 The bread-fruit tree of this island grows with great luxuriance, in exten 
 sive groves, scattered through every valley. It is of the height of fifty or 
 sixty feet, branching out in a large and spreading top, which affords a beau 
 tiful appearance and an extensive shade from the rays of the sun ; the trunk 
 is about six feet in circumference; the lower branches about twelve feet 
 from the ground ; the bark soft, and on being in the slightest degree 
 wounded exudes a milky juice, not unpleasant to the taste, which, on being 
 exposed to the sun, forms an excellent bird-lime, and is used by the natives 
 as such, not only for catching birds, but a small kind of rat with which this 
 island is much infested. The leaves of this tree are sixteen inches long nnd 
 
OF AMERICANS. 339 
 
 nine inches wide, deeply notched, somewhat like the fig leaf. The fruit, 
 when ripe, is about the size of a child s head, green, and divided by slight 
 traces into innumerable six sided figures. This fruit is somewhat eliptical 
 in its shape, has a thin and delicate skin, a large and tough core, with re 
 markably small seeds situated in a spongy substance between the core and 
 the eatable part, which is next the rind. It is eaten baked, boiled or 
 roasted ; whole, quartered, or cut in slices, and cooked ; either way was 
 found exceedingly palatable, was greatly preferred by many to our soft 
 bread, which it somewhat resembled in taste, but was much sweeter ; it was 
 found also very fine, when cut into slices and fried in butter or lard. It 
 keeps only three or four days, when gathered and hung up ; but the natives 
 have a method of preserving it for several years, by baking, wrapping it up 
 in leaves, and burying it in the earth : in that state it becomes very sour, 
 and is then more highly esteemed by them than any other food. The 
 bread-fruit tree is everything to the natives of these islands. The fruit 
 serves them and their hogs for food throughout the year, and affords large sup 
 plies to be laid up for a season of scarcity. The trees afford them an agreeable 
 and refreshing shade ; the leaves are an excellent covering for their houses ; 
 of the inner bark of the small branches they make cloth ; the juice, which 
 exudes, enables them to destroy the rats which infest them ; and of the 
 trunk of the tree they form their canoes, many parts of their houses, and 
 even their gods. Describe to one of the natives of Madison s Island a coun 
 try abounding in everything that we consider desirable, and after you are 
 done he will ask you if it produces bread-fruit. A country is nothing to 
 them without that blessing, and the season for bread-fruit is the time of joy 
 and festivity : the season commences in December, and lasts until Septem 
 ber, when the greatest abundance reigns among them. 
 
 On the first of November, Mowattaeeli, a chief of the Happahs, and son-in- 
 law to Gattanewa, came, accompanied by several others of his tribe with the 
 white handkerchief which I had sent them, to treat with me for a peace. I 
 received him with mildness, and gently expostulated with them on their im 
 prudence, in having insisted on hostilities with me. They expressed the ut 
 most regret for their past folly, and hoped that I would allow them in 
 future to live on the same friendly terms with me as Gattanewa and his 
 people, stating their willingness to comply with everything I should exact 
 from them in reason. I informed them that as I had offered them peace, 
 and they had rejected it, and had put me to the trouble of chastising them, 
 it was proper that we should receive some compensation. We were in want 
 of hogs and fruit, and they had an abundance of them, and I wished them 
 to give me a supply, once a week, for my people, for which they should be 
 compensated in iron and such other articles as would be most useful to them. 
 Qattanewa and many of his tribe were present, and appeared charmed with 
 the terms offered to the Happahs; said they would henceforth be brothers, 
 and observing that I had not yet presented my hand, took it affectionately 
 and placed in that of Mowattaeeli. After a short silence Mowattaeeli observed 
 that we must suffer much from the rain in our tents, as they did not appear 
 capable of securing us from the wet. Yes, said Gattanewa, and we are 
 bound to make the Hekai a title which they all gave me and his people 
 comfortable while they remain with us. Let every tribe at peace with him, 
 22 
 
34:0 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 build a house for their accommodation, and the people of the valley of 
 Tieulicy will show them the example by building one for the residence of 
 Opotee Porter. This proposal met with general applause, and the people 
 \vere immediately dispatched to prepare materials for erecting the fabric next 
 day, at which time the Happahs promised to bring in their supply, and the 
 day after to construct their house. In the course of the day, the other 
 chiefs of the Happahs came in with their flags and subscribed to the terini 
 proposed, and in less than two days I received envoys from every tribe in 
 the island, with the exception only of the warlike tribes of Typees, of the 
 valley of Vieehee, and the Hatecaahcottwohos, in the distant valley of Hanna- 
 liow ; the first confiding in their strength, valor, and position; the others in 
 their distance and numbers for their protection. The first had always been vic 
 torious in all their wars and the terror of their enemies ; the others were their 
 firm allies ; neither had they ever been driven ; they had been taught by their 
 priests to believe that they never would be, and it was their constant boast 
 that they had ever kept their valley free from the incursions of an enemy. 
 
 All agreed to the terms proposed ; supplies were brought in by the tribes 
 in great abundance, and from this time for several weeks, we rioted in lux 
 uries which the island afforded. To the principal persons of the tribes I 
 always presented a harpoon, it being to them the most valuable article of 
 iron, and to the rest scraps of iron hoops were thrown, in which they took 
 much delight. 
 
 Agreeable to the request of the chiefs I laid down the plan of the village 
 about to be built ; the line on which the houses were to be placed was al 
 ready traced by our barrier of water casks ; they were to take the form of a 
 crescent, were to be built on the outside of the inclosure, and to be con 
 nected with each other by a wall twelve feet in length and four feet in 
 height ; the houses were to be fifty feet in length, built in the usual fashion 
 of the country, and of a proportioned width and height. 
 
 On the 3d November, upward of four thousand natives, from the different 
 tribes, assembled at the camp with materials for building, and before night 
 they had completed a dwelling house for myself and another for the 
 officers, a sail loft, a coopers shop, and a place for our sick, a bake house, a 
 guard house, and a shed for the sentinel to walk under ; the whole were 
 connected by the walls as above described. We removed our barrier of water 
 casks, and took possession of our delightful village, which had been built as 
 if by enchantment. 
 
 It seems strange how a people living under no form of government that 
 we could ever perceive, having no chiefs over them who appear to possess 
 any authority, having neither rewards to stimulate them to exertion nor 
 dread of punishment before them, should be capable of conceiving and exe 
 cuting, with the rapidity of lightning, works which astonished us;, they ap 
 pear to act with one mind, to have the same thought, and to be operated on 
 by the same impulse ; they can be compared only to the beaver, whose in* 
 stinct teaches them to design and execute works which claim our admira 
 tion. 
 
 Some time after this I sent a messenger to the Typees to know if they 
 wished to be at peace with us. In two days he returned and was desired 
 by the Typees to tell Gattanewa and all the people of the valley of Tieu- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 341 
 
 ioy that they were cowards that we had beat the Happahs because the 
 Happahs were cowards ; that as to myself and my people, we were white 
 iizards, mere dirt. We were, said they, incapable of standing fatigue, over 
 come by the slightest heat and want of water, and could not climb the 
 mountains without Indians to assist us and carry our arms ; and yet wo 
 talked of chastising the Typees, a tribe which had never been driven by an 
 enemy, and as their gods informed them were never to be driven. 
 
 I now inquired of Gattanewa the number of war canoes which he could 
 equip and man ; he informed me ten, and that each would carry about thirty 
 men, and that the Happahs could equip an equal number of equal size ; he 
 told me it would be six days before they could be put together and got in. 
 readiness ; but if I wished it his people should set about it immediately. I 
 directed them to do so, and dispatched a messenger to the Happahs directing 
 them to prepare their war canoes to be in readiness to go to war with the 
 Typees, and await my further orders. I gave them as well as the Tayehs to 
 understand that it was my intention to attack them both by sea and by land, 
 and that I should send a large body of men in boats and a ship to protect 
 the landing of them and the war canoes, and that the remainder of the 
 warriors of both tribes must proceed by land to attack them in the part 
 where they were most assailable. I now conceived the design of construct 
 ing a fort, not only as a protection to our village and the harbor, but as a se 
 curity to the Tayehs against further incursions. I had for some time past 
 intended leaving my prizes here as the most suitable place to lay them up, 
 and this fort would give them additional security. 
 
 Assisted by the Indians I began the construction of a fort which was com 
 pleted on the 14th ; all worked with zeal, and as the friendly tribes were daily 
 coming in with presents, all joined in the labor. The chiefs requested that 
 they might be admitted on the same footing as the Tayehs, and everything 
 promised harmony between us ; they would frequently speak -,f the war 
 with the Typees, and I informed them I only waited foi their war canoes to 
 be put together and launched. 
 
 On the 19th November, the American flag was displayed in our fort, a 
 salute of seventeen guns was fired from the artillery mounted there, and 
 returned by the shipping in the harbor. The island was taken possession of 
 for the United States, and called Madison s Island, the fort, Fort Madison, 
 the village, Madison s Ville, and the bay, Massachusetts Bay. 
 
 A few days after this I took a party of sailors and marines in some boats 
 and went some eight miles from our anchorage to examine a fine bay. We 
 landed near a village at the mouth of a beautiful rivulet. On landing, many 
 of the natives came to the beach, who seemed disposed to treat us in the 
 most friendly manner ; but apprehensive of being troubled by their num 
 bers I drew a line in the sand at some distance about the boats, and informed 
 them they were tabbooed, and as an additional security to us, I caused all the 
 arms to be loaded and ready for service on the first alarm, and sentinels 
 placed over them. Shortly after this the chief came down to invite me to 
 the public square, the general place in all their villages for the reception of 
 strangers. Shortly after our arrival the women and girls assembled from all 
 quarters of the town, dressed out in all their finery to meet us ; they were 
 here free from all the restraints imposed by tho tabboos and were abundantly 
 
342 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 anointed with the oil of the cocoa-nut, and their skins well bedaubed with 
 red and yellow paint, as was their clothing ; some were also smeared with 
 greenish paint, the object of which I found on inquiry, was to preserve the 
 fairness and beauty of the skin, and indeed of this they seemed to take 
 particular pains, every one of them being furnished with a kind of umbrella, 
 formed of a bunch of palm leaves, to shield them from the effects cf the 
 sun : their care and attention in this particular had rendered them far supe 
 rior in point of beauty to the females of our valley, and the difference was 
 so striking as to make them appear a distinct people. Some of the girls, 
 probably in compliment to us, or to render themselves more attractive in our 
 eyes, cleansed themselves (by washing in the stream) of their oil and paint, 
 threw aside their bedaubed clothing, and soon appeared neatly clad in cloth 
 of the purest white ; and I can say, without exaggeration, that I never have 
 seen women more perfectly beautiful in form, features, and complexion, or 
 that had playful innocence more strongly marked on their countenances or 
 in their manners ; all seemed perfectly easy and even graceful, and all strove 
 by their winning attentions, who should render themselves most pleasing to 
 us. The girls formed a circle round us, and those of a more advanced age were 
 seated outside of them ; the men showed us every kind attention, and strove 
 to convince us of their friendship by bringing us cocoa-nuts, and cooking for 
 us hogs and bread-fruit after their manner, which were found excellent. 
 
 A daughter of Gattanewa was among them ; she was the wife of the 
 chief who had met us on our arrival ; she seemed no less friendly disposed 
 than her husband, and embraced me as her father, reminding me frequently 
 that from the exchange of names I had become such ; from her filial affec 
 tion she bestowed on me a bountiful supply of the red and yellow paint 
 with which she was covered, and insisted on my sending away my boats and 
 people and remaining with them until the next day, and no excuse that I 
 could offer for my return to the ship would satisfy her ; they all joined in 
 her solicitations, and, as an inducement for me to remain, promised me the 
 choicest mats to sleep on and the handsomest girls in the village to sing me 
 to sleep. After our repast all the women joined in a song, which was ac 
 companied by the clapping of hands ; it lasted near half an hour, and was 
 not unmusical. I inquired the subject of it, and was informed by Wilson 
 that it was the history of the loves of a young man and a young woman of 
 their valley : they sung their mutual attachment and the praises of their 
 beauty ; described with raptures the handsome beads and whales teeth ear 
 rings with which she was bedecked, and the large whale s tooth which hung 
 from his neck. They afterward joined in a short song which they appeared 
 to compose as they sung, in which I could plainly distinguish the words 
 Opotee, tie ties. peepees, etc. (Porter presents beads, etc.), after which they strove 
 in various ways who should most amuse us, the men in dancing, the girls in 
 playing scratch cradle (an amusement well known in America), at which 
 they are more dextrous than any other I ever met with. 
 
 Our time passed rapidly with these kind people, and the evening ap 
 proached before we were aware of it. It became necessary to hasten to the 
 ship, and we bade them farewell, with a promise that we should shortly 
 return and bring with us a larger supply of peepees and other tie ties, so 
 much desired by them. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 343 
 
 On the 27th November I informed the Tayehs and Happahs that I should 
 next day go to war with the Typecs, agreeable to my original plan. The 
 Essex Junior sailed in the afternoon, and I proceeded next morning, at three 
 o clock, with five boats, accompanied by ten war canoes, blowing their 
 conches as a signal by which they could keep together. We arrived at the 
 Typee landing at sunrise, and were joined by ten war canoes from the Hap 
 pahs ; the Essex J unior soon after arrived and anchored. The tops of all 
 the neighboring mountains were covered with the Tayeh and Happah war 
 riors, armed with their spears, clubs, and slings; the beach was covered with 
 the warriors who came with the canoes, and who joined us from the hills ; 
 our force did not amount to a less number than five thousand men. I had 
 brought with me one of those whom I had intended to employ as ambas 
 sadors ; he had intermarried with the Typees and was privileged to go among 
 them ; I furnished him with a white flag and sent him to inform the Typees 
 that I had come to offer them peace, but was prepared for war ; that I only 
 required that they should submit to the same terms as those entered into by 
 the other tribes, and that terms of friendship would be much more pleasing 
 to me than, any satisfaction which I expected to derive from chastising them. 
 In a few minutes after the departure of my messenger he came running 
 back, the picture of terror, and informed me he had met in the bushes an 
 ambuscade of Typees, who, regardless of his flag of truce, which he dis 
 played to them, had driven him back with blows, and had threatened to put 
 him to death if he again ventured among them ; and in an instant afterward 
 we had a confirmation of his statement in a shower of stones which came 
 from the bushes. To remain still would have proved fatal to us; to have 
 retreated would have convinced them of our fears and our incapacity to in- 
 injure them ; our only safety was in advancing and endeavoring to clear the 
 thicket, which I had been informed was of no great extent. 
 
 We advanced a mile or more when we came to a small opening on the 
 bank of a river, from the thicket on the opposite side of which we were 
 assailed with a shower of stones, when Lieutenant Downes received a blow 
 which shattered the bone of his left leg, and he fell. We had left parties 
 in ambush in our rear, which we had not been able to dislodge, and to trust 
 him to the Indians alone to take back was hazarding too much. The In 
 dians began to leave us ; all depended on our own exertions, and no time was 
 to be lost in deliberation. I therefore directed Mr. Shaw with four men to 
 escort Lieutenant Downes to the beach ; this with the party I had left for 
 the protection of the boats reduced my number to twenty-four men. As 
 we continued our march the number of our allies became reduced, and even 
 the brave Mouina, the first to expose himself, began to hang back ; while he 
 kept in advance, he had. by the quickness of his sight, which was astonish 
 ing, put us on our guard as the stones and spears came, and enabled us to 
 elude them, but now they came too thick even for him to withstand. 
 
 We soon came to the place for fording the river ; in the thick bushes of 
 the opposite banks of which the Typees, who were here very numerous, 
 made a bold stand, and showered on us their spears and other missiles. We 
 endeavored in vain to clear the bushes of the opposite banks with our 
 musketry. The stones and spears flew with augmented numbers. Finding 
 that we could not disloge them, I directed a volley to be fired, three cheers 
 
344 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 to be given, and to dash across the river. We soon gained the opposite bank 
 and continued our march, rendered still more difficult by the underwood, 
 which was here interlaced to that degree as to make it necessary sometimes 
 to crawl on our hands and knees to get along. We were harassed as usual 
 by the Typees for about a quarter of a mile through a thicket which, at 
 almost any other time, I should have considered impassable. On emerging 
 from the swamp we felt new life and spirits ; but this joy was of short dura 
 tion, for on casting up our eyes, we perceived a strong and extensive wall 
 of seven feet in height, raised on an eminence crossing our road, and flanked 
 on each side by an impenetrable thicket, and in an instant afterward were 
 assailed by a shower of stones, accompanied by the most horrid yells. 
 
 Finding we could not dislodge them, I gave orders for pushing on and en 
 deavoring to take it by storm : but some of my men had by this time ex 
 pended all their cartridges, and there were few who had more than three 
 or four remaining. This discouraging news threw a damp on the spirits of 
 the whole party ; without ammunition our muskets were rendered inferior 
 to the weapons of the Typees, and if we could not advance, there could be 
 no doubt we should be under the necessity of fighting our way back ; and 
 to attempt this with our few remaining cartridges, would be hazarding too 
 much. Our only safety now depended on holding our ground until we 
 could procure a fresh supply of ammunition, and in reserving the few 
 charges on hand until it could be brought to us. I mentioned my inten 
 tions to my people, exhorted them to save their ammunition as much as 
 possible, and dispatched Lieutenant Gamble with a detachment of four men 
 to the beach, there to make a boat and proceed to the Essex Junior for a 
 fresh supply. My number was now reduced to nineteen men ; there was 
 no officer but myself; the Indians had all deserted me except Mouina; and 
 to add to our critical and dangerous situation, three of the men remaining 
 with me were knocked down with stones. Mouina begged me to retreat, 
 crying mattee ! mattee ! The wounded entreated me to permit the others 
 to carry them to the beach, but I had none to spare to accompany them. I 
 saw no hopes of succeeding against the natives, so long as they kept their 
 stronghold ; and determined to endeavor to draw them out by a feint re 
 treat, and by this means to gain some advantage. For to return without 
 gaining some advantage would, I believed, have rendered an attack from 
 the Happahs certain. I communicated my intentions ; directed the wounded 
 to be taken care of; gave orders for all to run until we were concealed by 
 the bushes, and then halt. We retreated for a few paces, and in an instant 
 the Indians rushed on us with hideous yells. The first and second which 
 advanced were killed at the distance of a few paces, and those who at 
 tempted to carry them off were wounded. This checked them, they aban 
 doned their dead and precipitately retreated to their fort. Not a moment 
 was now to be lost in gaining the opposite side of the river. Taking advan 
 tage of the terror they were thrown into, we marched off with our wounded. 
 Scarcely had we crossed the river before we were attacked with stones ; but 
 here they halted, and we returned to the beach much fatigued and harassed 
 with marching and fighting, and with no contemptible opinion of the enemy 
 \ve had encountered or the difficulties we should have to surmount in con 
 quering them. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 345 
 
 On my arrival I found the boat which had been missing, together with a 
 reinforcement of men from the Essex Junior, and a supply of ammunition. 
 I was desirous of sounding the Typees before I proceeded to further ex 
 tremities, as also to impress our allies with the idea that we could carry all 
 before us. They told my messenger to tell me that they had killed my 
 chief warrior for such they supposed Mr. Downes to be that they had 
 xvounded several of my people, and compelled us to retreat. They knew 
 their strength and the numbers they could oppose ; and held our bouhies in 
 more contempt than ever, they frequently missed fire, rarely killed, and the 
 wounds they occasioned were not as painful as those of a spear or stone ; 
 and, they added, they knew they would prove perfectly useless to us should 
 it come on to rain. They dared us to renew the contest ; and assured us 
 they would not retreat beyond where we had left them. 
 
 Overcome with fatigue and discouraged by the formidable appearance of 
 their fortress, my men also fatigued and disheartened from the number of 
 wounded, I determined to leave them for the present, but meditated a severe 
 punishment for them. The Happahs had now descended the hills with 
 their arms ; the Shouemes appeared on the other side, and " the Typees 
 have driven the white men," was the constant topic of conversation. We 
 were still but a handful and were surrounded by several thousand Indians ; 
 and although they professed friendship, I did not feel safe. I therefore di 
 rected everybody to embark and proceed to the Essex Junior, anxious to 
 know the state of Lieutenant Downes. 
 
 The next day I determined to proceed with a force which I believed they 
 sould not resist, and selected two hundred men from the Essex, the Essex 
 Junior, and from the prizes. 
 
 In the evening I caused the party to be sent on shore and determined to 
 go by land. We had a fine moonlight night, and I hoped to be down in 
 the Typee valley long before daylight, and to take them by surprise. I di 
 rected the party sent in advance to halt as soon as they had gained the top 
 of the mountain until I came up with the main body. There I intended 
 encamping for the night, should our men not be able to stand the fatigue ol 
 a longer march. Several gave out before we reached the summit, which we 
 did in about three hours, with great difficulty ; but after resting a short time, 
 and finding ourselves refreshed, the moon shining out bright, and our guides 
 informing us (though very incorrectly) that we were not more than six miles 
 from the enemy, we again marched. Several Indians had joined us, but I 
 had imposed silence on them, as we were under the necessity of passing a 
 Happah village, and was fearful of their discovering us, and giving intelli 
 gence to the Typees. Not a whisper was heard from one end of the line to 
 the other; our guides marched in front, and we followed in silence up and 
 down the steep sides of rocks and mountains, through rivulets, thickets, and 
 reed breaks, and by the sides of precipices which sometimes caused us to 
 shudder. At twelve o clock we could hear the drums beating in the Typee 
 Talley accompanied by loud singing, and the number of lights in different 
 parts of it induced me to believe they were rejoicing. I inquired the cause, 
 and was informed by the Indians they were celebrating the victory they 
 had obtained over us, and calling on their gods to give them rain in order 
 that it mijht render our bouhies useless. We soon arrived at the pathway 
 
346 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 leading from the top of the mountain into the valley ; but the Indiana 
 told us that it would be impossible to descend it without day-light ; that the 
 mountain was almost perpendicular, and that in many places we should be 
 under the necessity of lowering ourselves down with great caution, and that 
 it would be even necessary for them to assist us in the day-time to enable us 
 to get down with safety. I concluded that it would be most advisable to 
 wait for day-light before we attempted to descend. We were in possession 
 of the pathway to the valley, and could prevent the Happahs from giving 
 them any intelligence of us; we were on a narrow ridge running between 
 the valleys of the two tribes and well situated to guard against surprise and 
 defend ourselves from an attack from either; and what added to the con 
 venience of our situation, we had a stream of water not far distant. 
 
 After placing guards we laid down on our arms. I had fallen into a dose 
 when an Indian came to inform me that it was coming on to rain very 
 heavy, and as he expressed himself would mattee ! mattee ! bouhie. This 
 appearance of rain caused loud shouts of joy in the Typee valley and 
 drums were beating in every quarter. I cautioned my men about taking 
 care of their arms and ammunition ; but from the violence of the rain, 
 which soon poured down in torrents, I had little hopes that a musket would 
 be kept dry or a cartridge saved. Never, in the course of my life, did I 
 spend a more anxious or disagreeable night, and I believe there were few 
 with me who had ever seen its equal. A cold and piercing wind accompanied 
 the deluge, for I can call it nothing else, and chilled us to the very heart ; 
 without room to keep ourselves warm by moving about, fearful of stirring, 
 lest we might be percipitated into eternity down the steep sides- of tho 
 mountains, for the ridge had now become so slippery we could scarcely 
 keep our feet we all anxiously looked for morning, and the first dawn of 
 day, although the wind and rain still continued, was a cheering sight to us, 
 notwithstanding our apprehensions for the fate of the ammunition and the 
 conditions of our muskets. We were all as perfectly wet as though we 
 had been under water the whole time, and we scarcely entertained a hope 
 that a single cartridge or musket had escaped. The Indians kept exclaim 
 ing that our muskets were spoilt, and anxiously wished us to retreat in time ; 
 but notwithstanding my fears on the subject, I endeavored to impress them 
 with a belief that water could do them no injury. As soon as it was light 
 enough I went among my men and inquired into the state of their arms 
 and ammunition. The first had escaped better than I had any reason to 
 hope ; but of the latter more than one half was wet and unfit for service. 
 
 The Happah village lay on one side of the mountain, as I before observed, 
 the Typee on the other, and when it was light enough to see down into the 
 valley of the latter we were astonished at the greatness of the height we 
 were elevated above them, and the steepness of the mountain by which we 
 should have to descend to get to them. A narrow pathway pointed out the 
 track, but it was soon lost among the cliffs. The Indians informed me that 
 in the present slippery state of the mountain no one could descend, and aa 
 our men were much harassed with fatigue, overcome with hunger, shiver 
 ing and uncomfortable, I determined to take up my quarters in the Happah 
 valley until next day to enable us to refresh, and I hoped by that time the 
 weather would prove more favorable. The chief soon arrived, and I com 
 
OF AMERICANS. 347 
 
 municated to him my intentions, directing him to send down and have 
 houses provided for us, as also hogs and fruit, all of which he promised 
 should be done. Before I left the hill I determined by firing a volley to 
 show the natives that our muskets had not received as much injury as they 
 had expected ; as I believed, under their impressions, at that moment, the 
 Happahs would not have hesitated in making an attack on us, and to avoid 
 any difficulties with them I thought it best to convince them we were still 
 formidable. I had other motives also for firing, the Tayehs and Happahs, 
 I knew, would accompany us into the Typee valley; and as I had put off 
 our descent until the next day, I concluded that it would be best to give 
 them timely notice of our approach, that they might be enabled to remove 
 their women and children, their hogs, and most valuable effects ; for although 
 I felt desirous of chastising them for their conduct, I wished to prevent the 
 innocent from suffering, or the pillage and destruction of their property by 
 the Indians who accompanied us. I accordingly directed my men to as 
 semble on the ridge and to fire a volley ; the Typees had not until then seen 
 us, nor had they the least suspicion of our being there. As soon as they 
 heard the report of our muskets, and discovered our numbers, which, with 
 the multitude of Indians of both tribes who had now assembled, was very 
 numerous, they shouted, beat their drums, and blew their war conches from 
 one end of the valley to the other : and what with the squealing of the 
 hogs, which they now began to catch, the screaming of the women and chil 
 dren, and the yelling of the men, the din was horrible. 
 
 After firing our volley, which went off better than I expected, we de 
 scended, with great difficulty, into the village of the Happahs, and were 
 shown into the public square. Around this place were several vacant houses 
 which had, in all appearance, been vacated on our account : in these I quar 
 tered iny officers and men, assigning to each ship s crew their abode. The 
 Happahs assembled about us, armed with their clubs and spears ; and the 
 women, who had at first crowded round us, now began to abandon us. Every 
 thing bore the appearance of a hostile disposition on the part of the Hap 
 pahs : our friends the Tayehs cautioned us to be on our guard. I directed 
 every one to keep their arms in their hands, ready to assemble at a moment s 
 warning. I now sent for their chief and required to know if they were 
 hostilely disposed. I told him it was necessary we should have something 
 to eat, and that I expected his people to bring us hogs and fruit, and if they 
 did not do so I should be under the necessity of sending out parties to shoot 
 them and cut down their fruit trees, as our people were too much fatigued 
 to climb them. I also directed that they should lay by their spears and 
 clubs. No notice being taken of these demands, I caused many of their 
 spears and clubs to be taken from them and broken, and sent parties out to 
 shoot hogs, while others were employed in cutting down cocoa-nut and ba 
 nana trees until we had a sufficient supply. 
 
 The chiefs and the people of the Happah tribe now became intimidated 
 and brought the baked hogs in greater abundance than were required ; friend- 
 hip was re-established, and the women returned. When night approached, 
 proper lookouts were placed, fires made before each house : those of the 
 tribe of Tayehs remained with us, the Happahs retired. All not on guard 
 devoted themselves to sleep, and at daylight, next morning, we equally 
 
34:8 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 divided onr ammunition, and the line of march was formed. All had pufc 
 their arms in a good state for service, and all were fresh and vigorous ; each 
 being supplied with a small quantity of provisions for the day. 
 
 On ascending the ridge, where we had passed such a disagreeable nlgjit, 
 we halted to take breath, and view, for a few minutes, this delightful valley, 
 which was soon to become a scene of desolation. From the hill we had a 
 distant view of every part, and all appeared equally delightful. The valloj 
 was about nine miles in length and three or four in breadth, surrounded on 
 every part, except the beach, where we formerly landed, by lofty mountains ; 
 the upper part was bounded by a precipice of many hundred feet in height, 
 from the top of which a handsome sheet of water was precipitated, and 
 formed a beautiful river, which ran meandering through the valley and dis 
 charged itself at the beach. Villages were scattered here and there ; the 
 bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees flourished luxuriantly and in abundance ; 
 plantations laid out in good order, inclosed with stone walls, were in a high 
 state of cultivation, and everything bespoke industry, abundance, and hap 
 piness never in my life did I witness a more delightful scene, or experience 
 more repugnance than I now felt for the necessity which compelled me to 
 punish a happy and heroic people. 
 
 A larsce assemblage of Typee warriors were posted on the opposite banks 
 of the river (which glided near the foot of the mountain) and dared us to 
 descend. In their rear was a fortified village, secured by strong stone walls; 
 drums were beating and war conches were sounding in several parts, and wo 
 soon found they were disposed to make every effort to oppose us. I gavo 
 orders to descend ; Mouina offered himself as our guide, and I directed him 
 to lead us to their principal village : but finding the fatigue of going down 
 the mountain greater than I expected, I gave orders to halt before crossing 
 the river, to give time for the rear to close, which had become much scat 
 tered, and that all might rest. As soon as we reached the foot of the moun 
 tain we were annoyed by a shower of stones from the bushes, and from be 
 hind the stone walls ; but as we were also enabled to shelter ourselves behind 
 others, and being short of ammunition I would not permit any person to 
 fire. After resting a few minutes I directed the scouting parties to gain the 
 opposite bank of the river, and followed with the main body. 
 
 We were greatly annoyed with stones, and before all had crossed, the 
 fortified village was taken without any loss on our side. Their chief warrior 
 and another were killed, and several wounded they retreated only to 
 stone walls, situated on higher grounds, where they continued to sling their 
 stones and throw their spears. Three of my men were wounded, and many 
 of the Typees killed before we dislodged them ; parties were sent out in 
 different directions to scour the woods, and another fort was taken after 
 some resistance; but the party, overpowered by numbers, were compelled 
 to retreat to the main body after keeping possession of it half an hour. We 
 were waiting in the fort first taken for the return of our scouting parties a 
 multitude of Tayehs and Happahs were with us, and many were on tho 
 outskirts of the village seeking for plunder : Lieutenant M Knight had 
 driven a party from a strong wall on the high ground, and had possession 
 of it, when a large party of Typees, which had been lying in ambush, rushed 
 by his fire, and darted into the fort with their spears : the Tayehs and Hap- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 3d9 
 
 pahs all ran, the Typees approached within pistol shot, but on the first fire 
 retreated precipitate!} 7 , crossing the fire of Mr. M Knight s party, and 
 although none fell, we had reason to believe that many were wounded. The 
 spears and stones were flying from the bushes in every direction, and 
 although we killed and wounded in this place great numbers of them, wo 
 were satisfied, from the opposition made, that we should have to fight our 
 whole way through the valley. 
 
 It became now necessary to guard against a useless consumption of am 
 munition the scouting parties had returned, and some had expended all 
 their cartridges ; I exhorted them to be more careful of them, and after 
 having given them a fresh supply, forbid any firing from the main body, 
 unless we should be attacked by great numbers. I now left a party in this 
 place, posted in house, with the wounded, and another party in ambush 
 behind a wall, and directed Mouiria to lead us to the next village ; but before 
 marching I sent a messenger to inform the Typees that we should cease hos 
 tilities when they no longer made resistance, but so long as stones were 
 thrown I should destroy their villages. No notice was taken of this message. 
 We continued our march up the valley, and met in our way several beau 
 tiful villages, which were set on fire, and at length arrived at their capital, 
 for it deserves the name of one. We had been compelled to fight every 
 inch of ground, as we advanced, and here they made considerable oppo 
 sition ; the place was however, soon carried, and I very reluctantly set fire 
 to it. 
 
 The beauty and regularity of this place was such, as to strike every spec 
 tator with astonishment, and their grand site, or public square, was far su 
 perior to any other we had met with ; numbers of their gods were here de 
 stroyed, several large and elegant new war canoes, which had never been 
 used were burnt in the houses that sheltered them ; many of their drums, 
 which they had been compelled to abandon, were thrown into the flames, 
 and our Indians loaded themselves with plunder, after destroying bread 
 fruit and other trees, and all the young plants they could find ; we had now 
 arrived at the upper end of the valley, about nine miles from the beach, and at 
 the foot of the water-fall above mentioned ; the day was advancing ; we 
 had yet much to do, and it was necessary to hasten our return to the fort 
 first taken, where we arrived after being about four hours absent, leaving be 
 hind us a scene of ruin and desolation. I had hoped that the Typees had 
 now abandoned all further thoughts of resistance; but on my return to the 
 fort I found the parties left there had been annoyed the whole time of my 
 absence ; but being sheltered from the stones and short of ammunition, they 
 had not fired on the enemy. 
 
 This fort was situated exactly half-way up the valley ; to return by the 
 road we descended the hill would have been impossible, it became therefore 
 necessary to go to the beach, where I was informed that the difficulty of 
 ascending the mountains would not be so great ; many were exhausted with 
 fatigue, and began to feel the cravings of hunger, and I directed a halt, 
 that all might rest and refresh themselves. After resting about half an hour 
 I directed the Indians to take care of our wounded : we formed the line of 
 march and proceeded down the valley, and in our route destroyed several 
 other villages, at all of which we had some skirmishing with the enemy. 
 
350 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 At one of those places, situated at the foot of a steep hill, they rolled enor 
 mous stones down, with a view of crushing us to death, but they did us no 
 injury. The number of villages destroyed amounted to ten, and the de 
 struction of trees and plants and the plunder carried off by the Indians ia 
 almost incredible. The Type^s fought us to the last, and even at first ha- 
 need our rear on our return ; but parties left in ambush soon put a stop to 
 any further annoyance. We at length came to the formidable fort which 
 checked our career on our first day s enterprise, and although I had witnessed 
 man} instances of the great exertion and ingenuity of these islanders, I 
 never had supposed them capable of contriving and erecting a work liko 
 this, so well calculated for strength and defense. 
 
 There are but three entrances into this valley, one on the west, which we 
 descended, one on the east, and one from the beach. No force whatever 
 had before dared to attack them on the west, on account of the impossibility 
 of retreating, in case of a repulse, which they calculated on as certain. The 
 passage on the east led from the valley of their friends, and that from the 
 beach was guarded by fortresses deemed impregnable, and justly so against 
 any force which could be brought against them unassisted by artillery. On 
 viewing the strength of this place I could not help felicitating myself on 
 the lucky circumstance which had induced me to attack them by land, for I 
 believed we should have failed in an attempt on this place. 
 
 On my arrival at the beach I met Tavee and many of his, the Shoueme 
 tribe, together with the chiefs of the Happahs. Tavee was the bearer of a 
 white flag and several of the same emblems of peace were flying on the 
 different hills around his valley ; he was desirous of knowing whether I in 
 tended going to their valley, and wished to be informed when he should 
 again bring presents, and what articles he should bring : he inquired if I 
 would still be his friend and reminded me that I was Ternaa Typee, the 
 chief of the valley of Shoueme, and that his was Tavee. I gave him as 
 surances of my friendship, requested him to return and allay the fears of 
 the women, who, he informed me, were in the utmost terror, apprehensive 
 of an attack from me. The chiefs of the Happahs invited me to return to 
 their valley, assuring me that an abundance of everything was already pro 
 vided for us, and the girls, who had assembled in great numbers dressed out 
 in their best attire welcomed our return with smiles, and notwithstanding 
 our wet and dirty situation for it had been raining the greater part of the 
 day convinced us by their looks and gestures that they were disposed to 
 give us the most friendly reception. 
 
 Gattanewa met me on the side of the hill as I was ascending : the old 
 man s heart was full, he could not speak ; he placed both my hands on his 
 head, rested his forehead on my knees, and after a short pause, raising him 
 self, placed his hands on my breast, exclaiming, Gattanewa ! and then on his 
 own said, Apotee, to remind me we had exchanged names. 
 
 When I had reached the summit of the mountain, I stopped to contem 
 plate that valley which, in the morning, we had viewed in all its beauty, 
 the scene of abundance and happiness a long line of smoking ruins now 
 marked our traces from one end to the other; the opposite hills were cov 
 ered with the unhappy fugitives, and the whole presented a scene of des 
 olation and horror. Unhappy and heroic people ! the victims of your own 
 
OF AMERICANS. 351 
 
 courage and mistaken pride, while the instruments of your own fate, shed 
 the tears of pity over your misfortunes, thousands of your countrymen 
 nay, brethren of the same family triumphed in your distresses ! 
 
 I shall not fatigue myself or the reader by a longer account of this ex 
 pedition ; we spent the night with the Happahs, who supplied us most 
 abundantly, and next morning, at daylight, started for Madison s Ville, 
 where we arrived about eight o clock, after an absence of three nights and 
 two days, during which time we marched upward of sixty miles, by paths 
 which had never before been trodden but by the natives. Several of my 
 stoutest men were for a long time laid up by sickness occasioned by their 
 excessive fatigue, and one (Corporal Mahan of the marines) died two days 
 after his return. 
 
 The day of our return was devoted to rest ; a messenger was, however, 
 dispatched to the Typees informing them I was still willing to make peace, 
 and that I should not allow them to return to their valley until they had 
 come on terms of friendship with us. The messenger on his return informed 
 me that the Typees on his arrival, were in the utmost consternation ; but 
 that my message had diffused the most lively joy among them : there was 
 nothing they desired more than peace, and they would be willing to pur 
 chase my friendship on any terms". He informed me that a flag of truce 
 would be sent in next day to know my conditions. 
 
 On the arrival of the Typee flag, which was borne by a chief accompanied 
 by a priest, I informed them, that I still insisted on a compliance with the 
 conditions formerly offered them, to-wit, an exchange of presents and peace : 
 with myself and the tribes who had allied themselves to me. They readily 
 cons anted to these terms, and requested to know the number of hogs I should 
 require, stating that they had lost but few, and should be enabled to supply 
 us abundantly ; I told them I should expect from them four hundred, which 
 they assured me should be delivered without delay. Flags were now sent 
 to me again from all the tribes in the island, even the most remote and in 
 considerable, with large presents of hogs and fruit, and we had never at any 
 time since we had been on the island experienced such abundance. 
 
 Peace now being established throughout the island, and the utmost har 
 mony reigning, not only between us and the Indians, but between the dif 
 ferent tribes, they mixed with one another about our village in the most 
 friendly manner, and the different chiefs with the priests came daily to visit 
 me. They were all much delighted that a general peace had been brought 
 about, that they might now all visit the different parts of the island in 
 safety ; and many of the oldest men assured me that they had never before 
 been out of the valley in which they were born. They repeatedly expressed 
 their astonishment and admiration that I should have been enabled to effect 
 so much in so short a time, and that I should have been able to extend my 
 influence so far as to give them such complete protection, not only in the 
 valley of Tieuhoy, but among the tribes with which they had been at war 
 from the earliest periods, and had heretofore been considered their natural 
 enemies. I informed them that I should shortly leave them and should 
 return again at the expiration of a year. I exhorted them to remain at peace 
 with one another, and assured them that if they should be at war on my 
 return, I should punish the tribes most in fault. They all gave me the 
 
352 ADVENTUIIES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 strongest assurances of a disposition to remain on good terms, not only with 
 me and my people, but with one another. 
 
 I now was enabled to make little excursions occasionally into different 
 parts of the valley, and visit the natives at their houses, which was what I 
 had not been enabled to do heretofore, as my various occupations had kept 
 me much confined to our village. On these occasions I always met the 
 most hospitable and friendly reception from the natives of both sexes. 
 Cocoa-nuts and whatever else they had were offered me, and I rarely re 
 turned home without several little tie-ties as a token of their regard. I 
 generally took with me seeds of different descriptions, with which I was pro 
 vided, such as melons, pumpkins, peas, beans, oranges, limes, etc., together 
 with peach stones, wheat and Indian corn, which were planted within tho 
 inclosures, in the most suitable places for them, the natives always assisting 
 in pulling up the weeds and clearing the ground for planting them. The 
 nature of the different kinds of vegetables and fruit that each kind of grain 
 would produce was explained to them, and they all promised to take tho 
 utmost care of them and prevent the hogs from doing them any injury. I 
 directed them not to pull any of the fruit until they had consulted Wilson 
 to know if they were ripe. Among all the seeds that were sown there was 
 none which gave them so much pleasure as the wheat, which they called 
 maie, which is the name they gave the bread-fruit ; they would not believe, 
 however, at first that it was from this grain we made our bread (which they 
 also called maie, but sometimes potato) until I had ground some of the 
 grain between two stones, and showed them the flour, which produced from 
 them the most joyous exclamations of maie ! maie ! maie ! and all began to 
 clear away spots for sowing the grain, and bringing me leaves and cocoa-nut 
 shells, begging that I would give them some to take home to plant. 
 
 I endeavored to impress them with an idea of the value of the seeds I 
 was planting, and explained to them the different kinds of fruit they would 
 produce, assuring them of their excellence, and as a farther inducement to 
 them to attend their cultivation, I promised them that, on my return, I 
 would give them a whale s tooth for every ripe pumpkin and melon they 
 would bring me ; and to the chiefs of the distant tribes, to whom I distri 
 buted the different kinds of seeds, I made the same promise. I also gave 
 them several English hogs of a superior breed, which they were very anx 
 ious to procure. I left in charge of Wilson some male and female goats, 
 and as I had a number of young Galapagos tortoises, I distributed several 
 among the chiefs, and permitted a great many to escape into the bushes and 
 among the grass. 
 
 In one of those excursions, I was led to the chief place of religious cere 
 mony of the valley. It is situated high up the valley of the Havvous, in a 
 fine grove, and I regret extremely that I had it not in my power to make a 
 correct drawing of it on the spot, as it far exceeds in splendor everything of 
 the kind described by Captain Cook, or represented in the plates which ac 
 company his voyage. 
 
 Some time previous to this I had been tabbooed at my request by Gatta- 
 newa; this gave me the privilege of visiting and examining all their places 
 of religious worship, and I now took advantage of my right in going into 
 the grove among the gods, accompanied by the attendants on the placo 
 
OF AMERICANS. 353 
 
 Wilson could not accompany me there, and I was not enabled to make in 
 quiry on many subjects ; but observing that they treated all their gods with 
 little respect, frequently catching them by their large ears, drawing my at 
 tention to their wide mouths, their flat noses, and large eyes, and pointing 
 out to me, by signs, all their other deformities, I told Wi.son to inform 
 them I thought they treated their gods very disrespectfully they told mo 
 that those were like themselves, mere attendants on their divinity, as they 
 were on the priest ; that I had not yet seen their greatest of all gods, that 
 he was in a small house, which they pointed out, situated at the corner of 
 the grove ; and on my expressing a desire to see him, after a short consul 
 tation among themselves, they brought him out on the branch of a co 
 coa-nut tree, when I was surprised to find him only a parcel of paper cloth 
 secured to a piece of a spear about four feet long ; it in some measure re 
 sembled a child in swaddling cloths, and the part intended to represent the 
 head had a number of strips of cloth hanging from it about a foot in length ; 
 I could not help laughing at the ridiculous appearance of the god they wor 
 shiped, in which they all joined me with a great deal of good humor, 
 some of them dandling and nursing the god, as a child would her doll. 
 
 I endeavored to ascertain whether they had an idea of a future state, re 
 wards and punishments, and the nature of their heaven. As respects the 
 latter they believed it to be an island, somewhere in the sky, abound 
 ing with everything desirable ; that those killed in war and carried off by 
 their friends go there, provided the} are furnished with a canoe and pro 
 visions, but that those who are carried off by the enemy, never reach it un 
 less a sufficient number of the enemy can be obtained to paddle his canoe 
 there, and for this reason they were so anxious to procure a crew for their 
 priest, who was killed and carried off by the Happahs. They have neither 
 rewards nor punishments in this world, and I could not learn that they ex 
 pected any in the next their religion, however, is like a plaything, an 
 amusement to them, and I very much doubt whether they, at any moment, 
 give it a serious thought; their priests and jugglers manage those matters 
 for them ; what they tell them they believe, and do not put themselves to 
 the trouble of considering whether it is right or wrong. They are very 
 credulous, and will as readily believe in one religion as another. I have ex 
 plained to them the nature of the Christian religion, in a manner to suit 
 their ideas ; they listened with much attention, appeared pleased with tho 
 novelty of it, and agreed that our God must be greater than theirs. Our 
 chaplain Mr. Adams endeavored to collect from one of their priests some 
 notions of his religion, and among other things inquired of him whether, 
 according to their belief, the body was translated to the other world or only 
 the spirit; the priest, after a considrable pause, at length replied, that the 
 flesh and bones went to the earth, but that all within went to the sky : from 
 his manner, however, the question seemed greatly to embarrass him, and it 
 a] peared as though a new field was opened to his view. 
 
 Besides the gods at the burying-place, or morai, for so it is called by them, 
 they have their household gods, which are hung round their necks, generally 
 made of human bones, and others, which are carved on the handles of their 
 fans, on their stilts, their canes, and more particularly on their war clubs; 
 but those gods are not held in any estimation, they are sold, exchanged, and 
 
354 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 given away with the same indifference as any other object, and indeed the 
 most precious relics, the skulls and other bones of their relations, are disposed 
 of with equal indifference. 
 
 When we were at war with the Typees, the Happahs and Tayehs made 
 a strict search in thft houses of the enemy for the skulls of their ancestors, 
 who had been slain in battle (knowing where they were deposited) ; 
 many were found, and the possessors seemed rejoiced that they had re 
 covered from the enemy so inestimable a relic. Dr. Hoffman seein- a man 
 with three or four skulls strung round his waist, asked him for them, and 
 they were given up immediately, although they had belonged to his father, 
 brother, or some near relation. Next day several appeared at the village 
 with .the skulls to traffic for harpoons. A very old man came to the village 
 as a representative from one of the tribes, and wishing to make me a present 
 and having nothing else to give me, took from his neck a string of bones 
 cut in the form of their gods, and assured me they were the bones of his 
 grandmother. 
 
 In religion these people are mere children ; their morais are their baby- 
 houses, and their gods are their dolls. I have seen Gattanewa with all his 
 sons, and many others sitting for hours together clapping their hands and 
 singing before a number of little wooden gods laid out in small houses erec 
 ted for the occasion, and ornamented with strips of cloth ; they were such 
 houses as a child would have made, of about two feet long and eighteen 
 inches high, and no less than ten or twelve of them in a cluster like a small 
 village ; by the side of this were several canoes, furnished with their pad 
 dles, seines, harpoons, and other fishing apparatus, and round the whole a 
 line was drawn to show that the place was tabooed ; within this line was 
 Gattanewa and others, like overgrown babies, singing and clapping their 
 hands, sometimes laughing and talking, and appeared to give their ceremony 
 no attention ; he asked me if the place was not very fine ; and it was on 
 this occasion that he tabooed me, in order to give me an opportunity of 
 approaching the gods and examining them more closely. The whole cere 
 mony of tabooing me consisted in taking a piece of white cloth from the 
 hole through his ear, and tying it around my hat as a band : I wore this 
 badge for several days, and simple as it was, every one I passed would call 
 out 0(00, and avoid touching me. I inquired the cause of this ceremony of 
 Gattanewa, and he told me he was going to catch tortoise for the gods, and 
 that he should have to pray to them several days and nights for success 
 during which time he should be tabooed and dare not enter a house fre 
 quented by women; 
 
 Tattooing among these people is performed by means of a machine made 
 of bone something like a comb with the teeth only on one side ; the points 
 of the teeth are rubbed with a black paint made of burnt cocoa-nut shell 
 ground to powder, and mixed with water; this is struck into the flesh by 
 means of a heavy piece of wood which serves the purpose of a hammer; 
 the operation is extremely painful and streams of blood follow every blow, 
 yet pride induces them to bear this torture, and they even suffer themselves 
 to bo tied down while the operation is performing in order that their agony 
 may not interrupt the operator. The men commence tattooing as soon as 
 tkey are able to bear the pain ; they begin at the age of eighteen or nineteen 
 
OF AMERICANS. 355 
 
 and are rarely completely tattooed until they arrive at the age of thirty- 
 five. The women begin about the same age ; they have only their legs, 
 arms, and hands tattooed which is done with extraordinary neatness and 
 delicacy and some slight lines drawn across their lips. >It is also the prac 
 tice with some to have the inside of their lips tattooed, but the object of 
 this ornament I could never find out, as it is never seen unless they turn out 
 their lips to show it. Every tribe in the island, I observed, were tattooed 
 after a different fashion, and I was informed that every line had its meaning, 
 and gave to the bearer certain privileges at their feasts. This practice of 
 tattooing sometimes occasions sores which fester and are several weeks before 
 they heal ; it however never produces any serious consequences, or leaves 
 any scars behind. 
 
 On the 9th December I had all my provisions, wood, and water on board, 
 my decks filled with hogs, and a most abundant supply of cocoa-nuts and 
 bananas, with which we had been furnished by the liberality of our Nooa- 
 heevan friends, who had reserved for us a stock of dried cocoa-nuts, suita 
 ble for taking to sea, and wore calculated for keeping three or four months. 
 I now found it necessary to stop the liberty I had heretofore given to my 
 people, and directed that every person should remain on board and work 
 late and early to hasten the departure of the ship ; but three of my crew 
 determined on having a parting kiss, and to obtain it, swam on shore at 
 night ; they were caught on the beach and brought to me. I immediately 
 caused them to be confined in irons, and determined to check any farther 
 disobedience of my orders by the most exemplary punishment. I next 
 morning caused them to be punished severely at the gangway, and set them, 
 to work in chains with my prisoners : this severity excited some discon 
 tent and inurmurings among the crew, but it effectually prevented a recur 
 rence. 
 
 Nooaheevah had many charms for a sailor, and had part of my crew felt 
 disposed to remain there, I knew they would not absent themselves until the 
 moment before my departure. This affair had, However, like to have ended 
 seriously ; my crew did not see the same motives for restraint as myself, 
 they had long been indulged, and they thought it now hard to be deprived 
 of their usual liberty : one kiss now was worth a thousand at any other 
 time ; they were restless, discontented, and unhappy. The girls lined the 
 beach from morning until night, and every moment importuned me to take 
 the taboos off the men, and laughingly expressed their grief by dipping their 
 fingers into the sea and touching their eyes, so as to let the salt water trickle 
 down their cheeks. Others would seize a chip, and holding it in the manner 
 of a shark s tooth, declared they would cut themselves to pieces in despair ; 
 some threatened to beat their brains out with a spear of grass, some to drown 
 themselves, and all were determined to inflict on themselves some dreadful 
 punishment if I did not permit their sweethearts to come on shore. The men 
 did not bear it with so much good humor : their situation, they said, was 
 worse than slavery." 
 
 On the 12th Commodore Porter, having the Essex and Essex Junior ready 
 
 for sea, sailed for the coast of South America to cruise against the enemy. 
 
 Previous to leaving he had the remainder of the prizes warped in under the 
 
 guns of the fort. The command of the fort was given to Lieutenant Gara- 
 
 23 
 
356 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ble, of the marines, who had under him Messers, Feltus and Clapp two of tha 
 midshipmen, and twenty-one men. Captain Porter s object in leaving these 
 vessels was to secure the means of future repairs to his ships, and to avoid 
 an unnecessary detention, he gave Lieutenant Gamble orders to leave tho 
 island in five and a half months if he should not hear from him in tho 
 meantime. 
 
 The Essex had nor sooner disappeared than the savages began to show a 
 turbulent disposition. This was for the time quieted. Soon after one of 
 the men was drowned and four deserted in a whaleboat. In April a part of 
 the men mutinied and sailed away in the Seringapatam. In May the natives 
 attacked them and killed midshipman Feltus and three of the men and 
 severely wounded another. The whole party was now reduced to eight in 
 dividuals of whom only four were fit for duty. With these Mr. Gamble got 
 to sea in the Sir Andrew Hammond and went into the Sandwich islands 
 where he was soon after captured by the Cherub. He there learned the fate 
 of the Essex, which on the last of March, after a bloody and long sustained 
 battle with the British ships Phoebe and Cherub, in the neutral harbor of 
 Valparaiso, had surrendered. The action had been fought under great dis 
 advantages with a far superior force of the enemy, and with a bravery that 
 reflected great credit upon Captain Porter : indeed he refused to surrender 
 until his principal officers, and more than one half of "his crew, had been 
 killed or wounded. Just before going into the action a squall of wind had 
 carried away the main topmast of the Essex, so that Captain Porter could 
 not maneuver his vessel. She therefore lay completely in the power of 
 the enemy who could choose his own position and distance and with his 
 guns of longer reach pour in the shot upon his crippled antagonist, without 
 the latter having the shadow of a chance of a successful defense. 
 
 Thus terminated this enterprising and singular cruise. Its end was as 
 disastrous as its commencement had been fortunate ; and its whole history 
 was romantic and highly creditable to the spirit, resources and self-reliance of 
 the master mind who originated and carried it into execution. 
 
 Captain Porter was a native of Boston, Massachusetts, where he was bora 
 in 1780, so that at the time of starting on this eventful cruise he was but 
 thirty-two years of age. On the termination of the war in 1815 he was 
 appointed a naval commissioner, and performed the duties of that office 
 until 1821. Subsequently, in relation to an insult offered the American 
 flag at Forado, in Porto Rico, of which he was cognizant, he obliged the 
 authorities of the place to make a due apology. He had no orders to do so ; 
 and consequently was suspended for six mouths by a court-martial. He 
 thereupon resigned his commission and joined the Mexican navy. In 1829, 
 President Jackson appointed him minister to Constantinople, where he 
 rendered his country most valuable aid, in the formation of treaties. He 
 died in 1843, at the age of sixty-three years. 
 
 Captain Porter was the author of the celebrated motto, " Free Trade and 
 Sailor s Rights." On his return from his celebrated cruise, he was every- 
 where received with the highest honors. Congress and the several States 
 gave him a vote of thanks, and by universal acclamation he was called " ifo 
 Hero of the Pacific." 
 
THE WISE AND HEROIC CONDUCT 
 
 OF 
 
 JEHUDI ASHMUN: 
 
 AS SHOWN IN SAYING FROM DESTRUCTION AND IN ESTABLISHING ON A FIRM BABIi 
 
 THE AMERICAN COLONY OF LIBERIA. 
 
 AMONG the subjects that have attracted the consideration of statesmen and 
 philanthropists of our time, that of African Colonization has been conspic 
 uous. Many of our ablest and purest men have regarded this as the only 
 practicable means to effect the ultimate regeneration of a degraded class of 
 our population; and also as the mode by which the whole continent of 
 Africa will eventually have opened to it the blessings of Christian civiliza 
 tion. 
 
 Among those names connected with the early history of the American 
 colony of Liberia, is that of Jehudi Ashmun. He it was that in its darkest 
 hour saved it from utter extermination, and by the exercise of masterly 
 abilities in his agency of six years duration, gained the reputation of having 
 been one of the most remarkable of men. In the midst of the varying cir 
 cumstances of difficulty and danger, he exhibited most conspicuously every 
 variety of quality and talent that could be called for military skill and 
 courage, political sagacity and address, all of which were united to such a 
 spirit of self-sacrifice that finally his life became the forfeit of his devotion. 
 
 Mr. Ashinun, was born in April, 1794, in Champlain, New York. His 
 parents were respectable people in moderate circumstances. He was edu 
 cated at the University of Vermont, and for a while was a Professor of Class 
 ical Literature in a Theological Seminary at Hampden, in Maine. He also 
 received a license to preach. 
 
 The subject of foreign missions had taken a deep hold of his thought, 
 and it was his ultimate design to devote his life to that department of labor. 
 The elements of intellectual strength are generally mingled in the human 
 character with ardent feelings and powerful assions. The talents which 
 render men capable of great and noble actions, may, if perverted, cover them 
 with all the disgrace and infamy of crime. Ashmun was naturally self- 
 confident, proud, ambitious. His imagination was warm, his passions ardent, 
 his sensibility extreme. His religious sentiments at this time, were deeply 
 tinged with a romantic enthusiasm. In allusion to this period, he some 
 years after oVserved : "My genius and habits, much of the time, were de 
 cidedly af the ascetic cast. I determined not only to forsake the gay, but 
 
 (357) 
 
358 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 even the civilized world, and spend my life among distant savages. And 
 from long dwelling on this prospect, and naturally directing my inquiries 
 and reading by it, I came to acquire a passion for the sacrifice." 
 
 Ashmun eventually moved to Washington City, where he took charge 
 of the Theological Eepertory, a monthly publication, the only one of a re 
 ligious character then published south of New York. The capacity he evinced 
 as editor at once gained the attention of leading minds, especially as shown 
 in an elaborate review of the second Annual Report of the American Col 
 onization Society. 
 
 The introduction to this Review is in the following words : 
 "Never perhaps, in the history of man, has an object affording equal 
 scope for the exercise of Christian benevolence, been found capable of en 
 gaging in its support such a compass and variety of powerful motives as 
 that of. the American Colonization Society. Though in itself this object is 
 simple and definite, and to superficial observation, of limited and even 
 questionable utility, the beneficial consequences of its success gradually un 
 fold to the mind, on a rational investigation of its nature, and may be traced 
 up to the highest pitch of moral magnificence." 
 
 "It is an opinion," he farther along adds, "which we believe is built on 
 incontestible grounds, that an African colony in order to answer any benevolent 
 design, must have for its basis the promotion of the Christian religion first 
 within the colony itself, and subsequently by means of the colony among the 
 contiguous tribes." From this period, the subject of African colonization 
 engrossed the thoughts of Ashmun, and he devoted all his leisure to the pre 
 paration of the life of Rev. Samuel Bacon, one of the pioneers in that cause. 
 The work when issued was judged a production of signal ability ; but it 
 failed in a mercantile sense, and, in connection with the want of patronage 
 for the Repertory, involved him in pecuniary embarrassments. The periodical 
 also failed through mismanagement and other causes over which he had no 
 control. In settling the affairs of the Repertory suspicions became attached 
 to him, which the busy tongue of detraction was not slow to reiterate. Few 
 conditions are more perplexing to a noble, sensitive mind than now became 
 his. He was awakened from every bright dream of the future, by the calls 
 -of importunate creditors to satisfy delinquencies for the past. Friends, too, 
 began to desert him, and looked upon him with reproachful disappointment 
 at not coming up to their expectations ; for, meritorious so ever as one s ef- 
 , forts may be, so blinded is the public generally, that it judges only of merit 
 by success. Reserved both by inclination and habit on matters of private 
 concern, he perhaps sometimes was % silent, when he should have made ex- 
 .planation ; and while acting in his integrity, forgot what discretion would 
 have dictated, as due to the opinions of others. But he bowed his head to 
 no useless sorrow. He was calm, uncomplaining, and active. He knew 
 that to seek sympathy, is generally to lose in respect more than is gained 
 in compassion ; and that for a wounded spirit, the only remedy is divine. 
 No mortal eye can penetrate those deep and secret places of the heart, 
 where griefs spring up and are nourished from the very fountains of life. 
 
 As introductory to the new and important field in whicn the abilities of 
 Ashmun shone so conspicuously, we give a sketch of the origin and progress 
 of the Colony of Liberia. to the period when his history became merged in it. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 359 
 
 Dr. Fothergill, a member of the Society of Friends in England, first sug 
 gested, and Granville Sharp first executed the project of colonizing free men 
 of color in Africa, by founding, in 1787, the Colony of Sierra Leone. The 
 same year the philanthropic Dr. Wm. Thornton of Washington proposed to 
 conduct a company of free colored emigrants from the United States to 
 Africa, but circumstances beyond his control frustrated his design. The 
 aubject was discussed in the Legislature of Virginia early in the present 
 century, and the General Government requested by that body to aid in the 
 selection and acquisition of territory adapted to the purposes of the con 
 templated colony. 
 
 But the establishment of the American Colonization Society resulted lose 
 from political motives, than from Christian benevolence. Long before the 
 formation of the Colonization Society, there were generous souls in Virginia 
 and probably in other parts of the South, touched with a tender and affecting 
 charity toward the people of color. And in a future world the fact may 
 stand revealed, that from the sacred retirements of a few devout ladies in 
 Virginia, emanated a spirit of zeal and charity in behalf of the afflicted 
 Africans, which has widely spread ; inspired ministers and statesmen with 
 an almost divine eloquence in their cause. 
 
 The American Colonization Society was founded in Washington City, in 
 December, 1816. The patriotic and pious from various parts of the country, 
 united in its organization. Among the original members of this society 
 were Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, John Eandolph, and others of the most 
 eminent statesmen from all parts of our country, North and South. They 
 could not close their eyes upon these prominent facts : 
 
 That the slavery of two millions of colored persons in the Southern por 
 tion of this Union was under the exclusive control and legislation of the 
 slaveholding States each having the sole right of regulating it within its 
 own limits. 
 
 That the two hundred thousand colored persons scattered throughout the 
 Union and legally free, enjoyed few of the advantages of freedom. 
 
 That there were powerful causes operating to frustrate all efforts to ele 
 vate very considerably men of color in this country, which could not exist 
 to prevent their elevation in a separate community from the whites. 
 
 That the success of any measures for the good of this race, must depend 
 in a great degree upon the union of the wise and pious from every State 
 and section of the country. 
 
 That Africa was inhabited by fifty to one hundred millions of uncivil 
 ized and heathen men, and that to render, as far as practicable, the elevation 
 of her exiled children conducive to the deliverance and salvation of her 
 home population, was required alike by philanthropy and piety. 
 
 In view of these facts, what humanity and benevolence to the colored 
 race suggested, was embodied in the constitution of the American Coloniz 
 ation Society. It was expected that the operations of this Society, would 
 unfetter and invigorate the faculties, improve the circumstances, animate tho 
 hopes and enlarge the usefulness of the free people of color ; that by 
 awakening thought, nullifying objections, presenting motives convincing to 
 the judgment, and persuasive to the humanity of masters, they would en- 
 couiage emancipation; that in Africa their results would be seen, in civil- 
 
360 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ized and Christian communities ; in the substitution of a lawful and bene 
 ficial commerce for the abominable slave trade ; of peaceful agriculture for 
 a predatory warfare ; knowledge for ignorance ; the arts that refine for vices 
 that degrade ; and for superstitions vile, cruel and bloodstained, the en 
 nobling service and pure worship of the true God. It was believed that the 
 fellowship of the North with the South, in African colonization would tend 
 powerfully to produce just opinions on the subject of slavery, and prepare 
 for the removal of the evil without endangering the integrity and peace 
 of the Union. 4 -. t 
 
 In the year 1818, the American Colonization Society sent out as agents 
 Messrs. Ebenezer Burgess and Samuel Or. Mills, to ascertain if suitable terri 
 tory could be obtained on the western coast of Africa for the proposed colony. 
 They visited Sierra Leone, the Gambia and Sherbro, and their report encou 
 raged the Society to proceed in its enterprise. Mr. Mills died on the return 
 voyage. 
 
 In 1820, the first band of colonists of the Society sailed for the coast of 
 Africa. It consisted of eighty-eight emigrants under 1 the charge of Rev. 
 Sam l Bacon, J. P. Bankson and Dr. S. A. Crozier, as agents. They landed 
 on the Island of Sherbro, where, in the course of a few weeks, the climate and 
 exposure brought on a disease by which all the agents and one quarter of 
 the emigrants perished. Early the next year, 1821, the second expedition 
 was sent out with a small number of emigrants who remained at Sierra 
 Leone until suitable land should be obtained for the site of the intended 
 colony. They were joined there by the surviving emigrants of the preced 
 ing year. Finally, by great skill and perseverance, a valuable tract of land 
 was obtained of the native chiefs, including Cape Montserado, as a site for 
 the first settlement. This purchase was made by Capt. Robt. F. Stockton 
 of the U. S. Navy, and Dr. Eli Ayres, the chief agent of the Colonization 
 Society. The colonists, in the beginning of the next year, removed from 
 Sierra Leone to a small and unhealthy island on the mouth of Montserado 
 River. The natives evinced much duplicity and a determination, if possible, 
 to expel them from the country. In a contest with them, the storehouse 
 took fire and most of the provisions and utensils of the colony were de 
 stroyed. In July of this year, 1822, the little band, having endured great 
 trials and hardships, were enabled entirely to abandon the island and plant 
 themselves beneath their own humble dwellings in the Cape. At this period 
 their agent, Dr. Ayres, had been compelled to depart for the United Statesi 
 leaving the colonists in charge of one of their own number as a general 
 superintendent. Few and destitute, and exposed to the treachery of savage 
 foes, far away from the abodes of civilized men, this feeble company pa 
 tiently awaited the arrival of those aids and supplies which their necessities 
 demanded. 
 
 Such was the condition of affairs, when Mr. Ashmun, accompanied by his 
 wife, arrived at Cape Montserado, in Liberia, early in August of this year 
 (1822). He was at this period in his twenty-ninth year. He had been 
 sent out in the brig Strong, chartered by the managers of the Colonization 
 Society, in charge of fifty-three emigrants ; eighteen of these were native Afri 
 cans, who having been stolen from their own country, had been delivered over 
 to the Society to return them to their native soil. His instructions were that 
 
OF AMERICANS. 361 
 
 in case he should return in the brig to report the condition and prospects 
 of the colony ; but that if Dr. Ayres was absent, he should remain and tem 
 porarily assume the duties of agent. Finding that Dr. Ayres had left, 
 Ashmun remained and took charge of the colony. He summoned all his 
 energies, surveyed rapidly the field of labor, and deferred not an hour the 
 commencement of his work. 
 
 It is believed Mr. Ashmun was impelled to leave his country, rather by a 
 desire to realize from commercial operations, the means of discharging hea\\ 
 debts, which, should he continue in America, he saw it impossible soon to pay, 
 than by any expectation of occupying the station which Providence destined 
 him to fill with such distinguished honor and success. That he felt for the 
 cause of African Colonization an ardent affection, and hoped essentially to 
 promote it, is certain. But his thoughts were directed to a plan of exten 
 sive trade, which he imagined might prove of some advantage to himself, 
 while it contributed to conciliate and civilize the Africans, and to augment 
 the resources and facilitate all the operations of the Society. The informa 
 tion he would obtain by a visit to the African coast, must, he concluded, 
 enable him to judge of proper measures for effecting his object ; and on his 
 return, all the details of the plan might be satisfactorily adjusted with the 
 various parties concerned. He regarded the scheme probably at the time of 
 his departure, as something of an adventure, since it does not appear that 
 he had submitted it -to the consideration of the managers of the Society. 
 
 Cape Montserado, elevated from seventy-five to eighty feet above the sea, 
 forms the abrupt termination of a narrow tongue of land, in length thirty- 
 six miles, and from one and a half to three miles in breadth ; bounded on 
 the south-west by the ocean, and on the north-east by the Rivers Mont 
 serado and Junk. 
 
 The site chosen for the original settlement (now Monrovia Liberia), is 
 two miles from the point of the Cape. This site, and a large portion of the 
 peninsula, was covered with a lofty and dense forest, entangled with vines 
 and brushwood ; the haunts of savage beasts, and through which the bar 
 barians were accustomed to cut their narrow and winding pathways to the 
 coast. When Mr. Ashmun arrived, a small spot had been cleared, and about 
 thirty houses constructed in a native style. The rainy season was at its 
 height ; the public property had been chiefly consumed by fire ; some of 
 the settlers already on the ground, were but imperfectly sheltered ; and for 
 those just arrived, no preparation had been made ; the settlement had no 
 adequate means of defense, while the chiefs of the country could no longer 
 conceal their hostile designs. The whole population of the settlement, in 
 cluding the emigrants by the Strong, did not exceed one hundred and thirty; 
 of whom thirty-five only were capable of bearing arms. A comprehensive 
 system of operations was immediately commenced, to relieve the wants and 
 Improve the condition of the infant colony, and afford security against tje 
 dangers to which it was exposed. 
 
 As hostile demonstrations soon became manifest, the colonists prepared to 
 fortify themselves. Within a few days after the arrival of Mr. Ashmun, a 
 fortified tower was planned and commenced, and a particular survey taken 
 of the military strength and means of the settlers. Of the native Americans, 
 twenty-seven, when not sick, were able to bear arms ; but they were wholly 
 
362 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 untrained to their use, and capable, in their present undisciplined state, of 
 making but a very feeble defense indeed. It was soon perceived that the means 
 as well as an organized system of defense were to be originated, without either 
 the materials or the artificers usually considered necessary for such purposes. 
 
 The little town was closely environed, except on the side of the river, 
 with the heavy forest in the bosom of which it was situated thus giving 
 to a savage enemy an important advantage of which it became absolutely 
 necessary to deprive him, by enlarging to the utmost, the cleared space 
 about the buildings. This labor was immediately undertaken, and carried 
 on without any other intermission, than that caused by sickness of the people, 
 and the interruption of other duties equally connected with the safety of 
 the place. But the rains were immoderate and nearly constant. 
 
 In addition to these fatiguing labors, was that of maintaining the nightly 
 watch ; which, from the number of sentinels necessary for the common 
 safety, shortly became more exhausting than all the other burdens of tho 
 people. No less than twenty individuals were every night detailed for this 
 duty, after the 31st of August. 
 
 On the 25th of August, Mr. Ashmun experienced the first attack of fever. 
 Sickness soon commenced among the company of recent emigrants, and 
 prevailed so rapidly, that on the 10th of September, of the whole number, 
 only two remained in health. Mr. Ashmun was enabled to maintain a dif 
 ficult struggle with his disorder, for four weeks ; in which period, after a 
 night of delirium and suffering, it was not an unusual circumstance for him 
 to be able to spend an entire morning in laying off and directing the execu 
 tion of the public works. About the first of September, the intercourse 
 between the settlement and the people of the country had nearly ceased. 
 
 Mrs. Ashmun was prostrated, by a far more serious attack than the one 
 experienced by her husband. Protected from the rain only by a thatched 
 roof, "on a couch, literally dripping with water," that devoted young wife 
 continued to sink under the most malignant of fevers, until the 15th of Sep 
 tember, when she expired. It was in November before Ashmun sufficiently 
 recovered to resume his labors. He soon learned that the chiefs were still 
 secretly plotting the destruction of the colony. They met in war council, 
 and while some few of them were friendly to the colonists, the voices of the 
 majority prevailed, and it was resolved to exterminate them. Through a 
 friendly chief, Ashmun was informed of all their movements and designs. 
 He informed the belligerents, that he was apprised of their wishes, and that 
 if they persisted in their hostile plans, they would learn what it was to 
 make war with Americans. 
 
 On the 7th of November, word was brought him that a combined attack 
 would be made upon the settlement within four days. No time was to be 
 lost. Everything was done to put their forces in a posture of defense, and 
 to inspirit the men that could be. "A coward," exclaimed Ashmun, "it was 
 hoped did not disgrace their ranks ; and as the cause was emphatically that 
 of God and their country, they might confidently expect His blessing and 
 success, to attend the faithful discharge of their duty." On the 8th an exam 
 ination by Mr. Ashmun of their locality showed that a path to their fortifi 
 cation, had been overlooked, and thus an avenue of attack was afforded their 
 enemies. Men were instantly posted along it, and instructed to keep vigilant 
 
OF AMEKICANS. 36S 
 
 watch. On Sunday, the 10th, the colonists assembled for worship. A messen 
 ger broke in upon their devotions, with the tidings that the enemy, in fuli 
 force, had crossed Montserado Kiver, and were actually within a few miles of 
 them. That night these men slept on their arms. The watch was instructed 
 to keep their posts till sun-rise ; but, in defiance of orders, the picket- 
 guard left their station at early dawn. The consequences almost proved 
 fatal. They had no sooner deserted their places than the enemy came upon 
 them. They fired a volley of musketry, at the distance of sixty paces, shot 
 down several of the colonists, and then rushed forward with spear in hand to 
 take possession of the post. Some out-houses, and their contents fell into the 
 enemy s hands. This proved most fortunate. For, bent on plunder, the na 
 tives, instead of following up their success, turned aside to ransack the 
 buildings, which afforded the colonists time to re coverfrom their surprise and 
 prepare for action. They seized their guns and poured upon the natives a 
 raking, murderous fire. The savages began soon to recoil, and the colonists 
 regained the western post that had fallen into the enemy s hand, in the be 
 ginning of the action, when they brought a long nine-pounder to rake the 
 whole line of the enemy. Imagination can scarcely figure to itself a throng 
 of human beings in a more capital state of exposure to the destructive power 
 of the machinery of modern warfare ! Eight hundred men were hero in 
 line, shoulder to shoulder, in so compact a form that a child might easily 
 walk upon their heads from one end of the mass to the other, presenting in 
 their rear a breadth of rank equal to twenty or thirty men, arid all exposed 
 to a gun of great power, raised on a platform, at only thirty to sixty yards 
 distance ! Every shot literally spent its force in a solid mass of living hu 
 man flesh 1 Their fire suddenly terminated. A savage yell was raised, 
 which filled the dismal forest with a momentary horror. It gradually died 
 away ; and the whole host disappeared. 
 
 On the part of the settlers, it was soon discovered that considerable in 
 jury had been sustained. One woman who had imprudently passed the 
 night in the house first beset by the enemy, had received thirteen wounds, 
 and been thrown aside as dead. Another, flying from her house with her 
 two infant children, received a wound in the head, from a cutlass, and was 
 robbed of both her babes ; but providentially escaped. A young married 
 woman, with the mother of five small children, finding the house in which 
 they slept surrounded by savage enemies, barricaded the door, in the vain 
 hope of safety. It was forced. Each of the women then seizing an axe, 
 held the irresolute barbarians in check for several minutes longer. Having 
 discharged their guns, they seemed desirous of gaining the shelter of the 
 house previous to reloading. At length, with the aid of their spears, and 
 by means of a general rush, they overcame their heroine adversaries, and 
 instantly stabbed the youngest to the heart. The mother, instinctively 
 springing for her suckling babe, which recoiled through fright, and was left 
 behind, rushed through a small window on the opposite side of the house, 
 and fortunately gained the lines, unhurt, between two heavy fires. 
 
 It never has been possible to ascertain the number of the enemy killed 
 or disabled on this occasion ; but it is estimated to have been about ono 
 hundred and fifty. The offensive effluvium from the numerous dead bodies 
 in the adjacent forest soon became intolerable. 
 
364 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Though victorious, they were by no means in an enviable position. Im 
 mediately after the action, their intrenchments were compressed, so as not 
 to embrace so much area of ground, but to admit of greater concentration 
 of their forces. This being done, they began to reflect upon their condition. 
 It was deplorable enough shut out from all help, in the midst of a nu 
 merous and barbarous people, and destitute of means either to advance or 
 to recede. Then, too, what were they to do for provisions ? They had not 
 two weeks supply. Amid this gloorn and depression, a day of thanksgiving 
 and prayer was appointed and scrupulously observed. In this severe strait, 
 relief for their most pressing wants was afforded by a small puichase 
 from a Liverpool vessel that happened to touch at the Cape. 
 
 Exasperated by their recent defeat, the natives combined in greater force 
 for another attack. Early on the morning of the 2d, the works were again 
 attacked simultaneously on both sides with great fury, when a few rapid, 
 well-aimed discharges of artillery drove them back in confusion and dismay 
 In another quarter they rallied for the assault. To shield themselves from 
 the guns, they fell flat on their faces, behind some projecting rocks, and 
 large ant hills. Then suddenly they arose and again rushed to the charge. 
 This was repeated several times, with disastrous results to themselves. No 
 sooner did they become exposed than they fell in heaps, by the balls of the 
 guns. They then filed around an eminence, with a view of attacking the south- 
 em posts which were undefended. Their design was discovered, and the 
 colonists immediately occupied that station. Soon as the enemy came in 
 full view, their guns were opened upon them with the same effect as before, 
 and they at length gave way on all sides. Thus, the colonists were again 
 victorious. They lost several valuable men, however, in the action. Ash- 
 mun himself had several balls through his clothes, but was not hurt. 
 
 The natives showed great skill and bravery in this attack ; their plan of 
 assault was the very best that they could have devised. It was certainly 
 sustained and renewed with a resolution that would not disgrace the best 
 disciplined troops. But they were not fully apprised of the power of well 
 served artillery. None of the kings of this part of the coast are without 
 cannon. But to load a great gun, is with them the business of half an hour, 
 and they were seriously disposed to attribute to sorcery the art of charging 
 and firing these destructive machines from four to six times in the minute. 
 
 The result of this action disheartened the foe, and animated for a moment 
 the hopes of the colonists. But the situation of the latter was most dis 
 tressing. The small number, still more reduced no aid near provisions 
 scanty, so that for six weeks they had been on an allowance of meat and 
 bread ; the sufferings of the wounded, relieved by little surgical knowledge, 
 less skill and no proper instruments, indescribable ; and on an equal distri 
 bution of the shot among the guns, not three rounds remaining to each ! 
 " We cried unto God," says Mr. Ashmun, " to send us aid, or prepare us, and 
 the Society at home, for the heaviest earthly calamity we could dread." 
 
 On the following night, an officer at one of the stations, alarmed by some 
 movement in the vicinity, discharged several muskets and large guns, and 
 this circumstance was the means of bringing relief to the almost despair 
 ing settlement. 
 
 The British colonial schooner, Prince Regent, laden with military stores, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 3C5 
 
 and having on board Major Laing, the celebrated African traveler, with a 
 prize crew commanded by Midshipman Gordon, and eleven seamen of his 
 British majesty s sloop-of-war Driver, was at this time passing the Cape, on 
 her way to Cape Coast Castle, when her officers, arrested by the sound of 
 cannon at midnight from the shore, resolved to ascertain the cause of so ex 
 traordinary a circumstance. No sooner did they learn the truth, and be 
 hold a little company of brave men contending for their lives against the 
 leagued forces of nearly every barbarous tribe on that part of the coast, than 
 they generously offered all the aid in their power. By the influence of 
 Captaui Laing, the chiefs were bound to a truce, and to refer all matters of 
 difference between them and the colony, to the judgment of the Governor 
 of Sierra Leone ; while Midshipman Gordon, with eleven seamen, voluntarily 
 consented to remain, and see that the agreement was preserved inviolate. 
 As the chiefs had no just grounds of complaint, the provision for a reference 
 was never afterward recollected. The Prince Regent left at the colony a 
 supply of ammunition, and took her departure on the 4th of December. 
 From that hour the foundations of the colony were laid in a firm and last 
 ing PEACE. 
 
 And who was he, that "single white man," on that distant forest-clad 
 shore, unbroken in spirit, though bowed beneath the heavy hand of sorrow 
 and sickness, casting fear to the winds, directing and heading by day and 
 night, a feeble, undisciplined, dejected, unfortified band of thirty-five emi 
 grants, against whom the very elements seemed warring, while a thousand 
 to fifteen hundred armed savages were rushing to destroy them ? Who was 
 he, that, in reliance on God for wisdom and might, imparted such skill and 
 courage to this little company, so ordered every plan and guided every 
 movement, that the fierce foe retired panic struck before them, and they 
 stood rescued and redeemed from impending destruction ? 
 
 Was he a veteran soldier, inured to danger, familiar with suffering, and 
 bred amid scenes of battle and blood ? Was he there adorned by badges of 
 military honor, conscious of a reputation won by deeds of " high emprise," 
 and stimulated to valor by hopes of glory and fears of disgrace ? 
 
 That was no tried, no ambitious soldier. He was a young man, bred to 
 letters, of retired habits, educated for the ministry of Christ, unknown to 
 fame, the victim of disappointment, burdened with debt, and touched by 
 undeserved reproach. He had visited Africa in hope of obtaining the means 
 of doing justice to his creditors ; and impelled by Humanity and Religion, 
 had consented, without any fixed compensation, to give, should they be re 
 quired, his services to the colony. He found it in peril of extinction. He 
 hesitated not. He failed not to redeem his pledge. He gathered strength 
 from difficulty, and motive from danger. No thronging and admiring spec 
 tators cheered him ; no glorious pomp and circumstance were there to throw 
 a brightness and a beauty even upon the features and terrors of death. He 
 stood strong in duty, covered by the shield of Faith. His frame shaken by 
 disease ; the partner of his life struck down by his side ; amid the groans 
 of the afflicted and in the shadow of Hope s dim eclipse, he planned and 
 executed, with the ability of the bravest and most experienced general, 
 measures which saved the settlement, and secured for Liberty and Chris 
 tianity, a perpetual home and heritage in Africa. 
 
366 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 The agitations of this sanguinary conflict, were succeeded by the ravages 
 of disease and the gloom of death. Within four weeks from the time of 
 the departure of the Prince Regent, the graves were closed over Midshipman 
 Gordon and eight out of the eleven seamen who remained with him. The 
 conduct of these generous Englishmen, deserves to be remembered forever. 
 Hardly had they stepped on the African shore, to assist a few humble, dis 
 tressed, tut brave men, to whom they were bound only by the common ties 
 of humanity, from whom they could expect no reward, and who might have 
 perished almost unobserved, when they fell, and were borne in the arms and 
 amid the lamentations of those whom they came to relieve, to the place of 
 the dead. 
 
 Mr. Ashmun s health being injured by excessive exertion, about the 16th 
 of December he relapsed into a slow, constant fever, which at first resisted 
 all ordinary remedies, and left him no hope of recovery. As a last resort,, a 
 strong potion was administered in which was a large spoonful of calomel. 
 A distressing salivation ensued when the fever left him. 
 
 It was in the middle of February before Ashmun was able to resume the 
 active duties of his station. He saw that every possible exertion was re 
 quired to prepare for the approaching season of rains. With the exception 
 of the store-house, there was but one shingled roof and frame house in the 
 settlement. Many of the cabins were wit.hout floors, covered with thatch, 
 affording but an imperfect shelter. The war had for months occupied 
 wholly the attention of the colonists, and deranged all their habits of in 
 dustry and private a ffairs. 
 
 " We long," said Mr. Ashmun at this time in a letter to the board, " for 
 an arrival from, home. Our provisions are short ; but we have some tobacco, 
 and the country abounds in cattle, goats, fowls and vegetables, which tobacco, 
 will always buy in almost any quantities. Our last barrel of salted pro 
 visions is to be opened next Saturday. But we do not complain. God has 
 not, and will not fail to be our provider. I have only to regret, that the 
 war has put back our improvements nearly or quite a whole year. But I 
 firmly believe the work of fighting is over, and that future emigrants will 
 enjoy without molestation, all the fruits of their industry." To the secre 
 tary of the Society, on the 20th of February, he- wrote : " Divine Provi 
 dence has, since my last, been gradually dispersing the clouds which then 
 overhung us, My health is nearly restored. I stand a monument of God s 
 mercy, and behold the graves of fifteen white persons around me ; all of 
 whom have died since I landed on the Cape." 
 
 On the 5th of March, he wrote, " I have said, in several letters, that I 
 thought myself recovering. But I am now convinced that, in this climate, it 
 i.s vain to expect to recover the health I enjoyed in America : certainly im 
 possible for me, in my present situation, to be anything else but a sick man. 
 It is not my nature to complain with too much facility. But think you 
 see a young man formed for society, separated almost entirely from the civ 
 ilized and Christian world; his constitution broken with a fever of six months; 
 his only earthly comforter snatched away ; mingling for months together 
 his own groans and sighs with those of the sick, wounded, and dying ; al 
 most for weeks together pained with the sight of the corpses of the whites 
 who had undertaken to reside here for our protection ; the complaints of th 
 
OF AMERICANS. 367 
 
 colonists, a statement of their wants, their application for a thousand things 
 with which it is impossible to supply them, constantly presenting them 
 selves ; every public work to be planned and superintended ; the move 
 ments of the natives to be closely watched, and their hostile designs to be pro 
 vided against; provision made by trade, etc., for the subsistence of the 
 people ; for their shelter against the approaching rains ; and a ceaseless 
 Anxiety to lay the foundation of the colony in a way that will not be de 
 trimental to its future prosperity ; the books to be kept and correspondence 
 carried on ; think, of all this falling upon an individual, and say, can he 
 recover his wonted health of body or strength of mind ? I might go on 
 enumerating other causes of my feeble and crazy state of health, but it is 
 painful to have said what I have." 
 
 An account of the suffering state of the settlement, from the pen of Mr. 
 Ashmun, in the Sierra Leone Gazette, with information derived from other 
 sources, induced the commander of the Cyane, Captain Robert Trail Spence, 
 though his health was impaired, and his crew enfeebled by a cruise of twelve 
 months in the West Indies, to adopt efficient measures for the relief and 
 safety of the colony. 
 
 He saw the importance of leaving an armed vessel on the coast, and by 
 the most energetic exertion, the hull of an old, abandoned schooner, the Au 
 gustine, was fitted for sea and manned by a crew of twelve men, under Lieut. 
 Dashiell, to guard this coast, and render the colony every possible aid in 
 any exigency. Capt. Spence, on his arrival with the Cyane, directed a large 
 portion of his crew to assist for twenty days in the building of an ammuni 
 tion house for the agent, and a stone fortress, in the midst of his benevo 
 lent exertions, the fever attacked his men so fiercely that he was obliged to 
 abandon the colonists, and the surgeon of his ship, Dr. Dix, and forty of his 
 men, fell victims to the deadly climate. 
 
 Mr. Richard Seaton, the first clerk of the Cyane, consented, with the 
 approbation of Captain Spence, to remain as assistant to Mr, Ashmun, who 
 saw, that alone and with health impaired, It was impossible to fulfill the nu 
 merous and arduous duties of the agency. 
 
 On the 21st of April, Mr. Ashmun, " worn down with cares and fatigue," 
 having organized the laboring force, and obtained the consent of Mr. Seaton 
 to superintend the public works, sailed in the Augusta for Settra Kroo, two 
 hundred miles south-eastward, for the purpose of conveying thither forty 
 Kroomen (who had given three weeks labor for their passage), and concil 
 iating the regards of the native chiefs of the country. During his absence 
 of twenty-one days, nothing escaped his observation ; he examined the fea 
 tures of the coast, visited and ascertained the dispositions of several tribes, 
 and having engaged twenty-five Kroomen as laborers, and made some pur 
 chases of valuable articles from the natives and the English factory at Ses- 
 ters, he returned to the Cape on the 13th of May. 
 
 "One century ago," he wrote, "a great part of this line of coast was 
 populous, cleared of trees, and under cultivation. The native towns are 
 numerous, but not large. The people raise their own rice, cassada, and palm 
 oil ; and procure their guns, powder, clothes, tobacco, knives, cooking uten 
 sils, and luxuries from French slave-traders. We saw at least three vessels of 
 this description. 
 
368 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Every tribe visited on this trip, declared by its prince or head man, its 
 intention to preserve with us a good understanding, and to trade freely to 
 the colony. The particulars of our late war, especially the result of the 
 two engagements, have been reported far and near, and given to the colony 
 a character for strength and invincibility, which must in different ways con 
 tribute greatly to its advantage." 
 
 On the return of Ashmun, the colonists were found to have continued 
 their labors, under the direction of one of their own number ; while Mr. 
 Seaton had experienced a severe attack of the fever of the climate ; and 
 which terminated a few weeks later in his too filling an African grave. 
 
 Aware of the dangers of the settlement, the managers of the Society had, 
 early in the preceding winter, determined to dispatch a reinforcement of 
 emigrants, with stores, under the direction of Dr. Ayres, whose improved 
 health now permitted him to resume his duties as principal agent and phy 
 sician in the colony, a station which he had filled prior to the arrival of 
 Mr. Ashmun in Africa. This gentleman embarked at Baltimore with sixty- 
 one colored passengers, on the 16th of April, and arrived at Cape Montse- 
 rado on the 24th of May. Such an accession to the numbers and resources 
 of the colony, could not fail to confirm the hopes and resolution of the 
 earlier settlers who had so long borne up against want, and malevolence, and 
 misfortune. 
 
 Notwithstanding his many pressing engagements, and the illness which 
 had so severely afflicted him nearly up to this time, Mr. Ashmun had ne 
 glected no opportunity of transmitting to the managers of the Colonization 
 Society, an account of his proceedings, with all such facts and statements, 
 as he thought might aid their deliberations, and light the way to measures 
 best suited to promote the permanent welfare of the colony. 
 
 He was earnest in his requests, that education, not only in letters and 
 science, but in morals and religion, should be esteemed of vital importance. 
 In a letter forwarded by the Cyane. after enumerating sundry improve 
 ments which he designed to make, he observes : " Our little school is kept 
 in operation, but it is a feeble affair. Our poor liberated captives [alluding 
 to little children, that had been taken from a slaver and sent to the colony] 
 work hard and cheerfully, but receive little instruction. My heart often 
 bleeds for them and others in similar circumstances. When can you send 
 out an accomplished and pious schoolmaster ? Permit me to say a word 
 about a minister of the Gospel. We are starving for want of the able, reg 
 ular administration of the word and ordinances. Does not even the colony 
 deserve the attention of some Missionary Society ? Let it be considered 
 that zealous ministers, catechists, etc., residing in the town, may bestow 
 any part of their time and labors on the heathen. They may open schools 
 on the opposite side of the river, which will immediately be partially filled 
 with heathen youth and children. They may form in town a missionary 
 family. The people of this part of the coast have no inveterate anti-reli 
 gious prejudices to prevent their attending every Sabbath or oftener, to hear 
 the Divine word." 
 
 " I wish," continues Mr. Ashmun, " to afford the board a full view of 
 our situation, and of the African character. The following incident I relate, 
 not for its singularity, for similar events take place, perhaps, every month 
 
OF AMERICANS. 369 
 
 in the year ; but it has fallen under my own observation, and I can vouch 
 for its authencity: King Boatswain, our most powerful supporter and steady 
 friend among the natives (so he has uniformly shown himself), received a 
 quantity of goods in trade from a French slaver, for which he stipulated to 
 pay young slaves. He makes it a point of honor to be punctual to his en 
 gagements. The time was at hand when he expected the return of the 
 slaver. He had not the slaves. Looking round on the peaceable tribes 
 about him, for her victims, he singled out the Queahs, a small agricultural 
 and trading people, of most inoffensive character. His warriors were skill 
 fully distributed to the different hamlets, and making a simultaneous assault 
 on the sleeping occupants, in the dead of night, accomplished, without dif 
 ficulty or resistance, the annihilation (with the exception of a few towns) 
 of the whole tribe. Every adult man and woman was murdered ; every 
 hut fired ; very young children generally shared the fate of their parents. 
 The boys and girls alone were reserved to pay the Frenchman." 
 
 It has been stated already, that, from the first, Mr. Ashmun proposed, as 
 one great object of his voyage, to ascertain the resources, and make particula. 
 observations on the trade of Africa ; and to establish under the sanction and 
 auspices of the Colonization Society, regular commercial intercourse between 
 that country and the United States. 
 
 His letters to the secretary of the Society, from the Capes of Virginia, 
 and from Fayal, contain some of his thoughts on the subject. In September, 
 soon after his arrival in Africa, his opinions and plans were more frilly de 
 veloped, and communicated from time to time to the board of managers. 
 
 On his way to Africa, at Fayal, he had judged it necessary to purchase a 
 small quantity of supplies, and give in payment drafts on the United States 
 Government and the Society. Observing, on his arrival, the destitution of 
 the colony, he obtained goods to the amount of fourteen hundred dollars, 
 for which was taken in payment, an order on the Society, payable at the end 
 of six months. In his letter of advice, he suggested that the Society could 
 either pay for these goods, and thus realize all the profits to be derived from 
 them, or should he be appointed agent, and receive (as other agents had 
 done) a year s salary in advance the whole or such portion as the Society 
 should choose, might be applied in payment. He did not, however, conceal 
 his desire, that the obligation should be assumed by the Society, and that 
 his salary (should there be one) might go to the extinction of his debts in 
 the United States. 
 
 Unfortunately, he stood not now in the clear light of public confidence. 
 The malign eye of suspicion was upon him. The managers of the Society 
 participated in the general distrust. He had left the country without offer 
 ing apology or explanation to those who were dissatisfied with his manage 
 ment of the Repertory ; feeling no obligation to unvail his private affairs, 
 and cherishing too much respect for his own integrity, to volunteer in its 
 defense, suspicions, which were at first, from misapprehension, indulged 
 against him, borrowed shape and distinctness from the imagination grew 
 by time, and at length, gained with many, the weight of certainty and 
 truth, 
 
 On the 24th of May, Dr. Ayres had returned to the colony as principal 
 agent, both of the Government and Society. By dispatches that came with 
 
370 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 him, Mr. Ashmun had the mortification to learn, that his drafts, both on the 
 Government and Society, had been dishonored ; that neither had made any 
 appropriation for his benefit; that he had been appointed to no agency by 
 the Government ; that the Society had invested him with no authority; but 
 while it gratefully acknowledged his services, and engaged liberally to re 
 ward them, had left the amount of his compensation, for the past, unde 
 termined ; and for the future, a matter for negotiation with the principal 
 agent. 
 
 In June, he was appointed assistant agent, by the board, though it is not 
 probable he received knowledge of the fact until late in the fall, when soon 
 after Dr. Ayres left the station, and the colonial management once more de 
 volved upon his hands. Again at the head of affairs, he thus wrote ; " We are 
 now one hundred and fifty strong, all in health, have about fifty houses, in 
 cluding three stores, and a heavy substantial stone tower, fourteen feet high, 
 mounting six pieces of ordnance. We have a good frame house, sur 
 rounded with a piazza. Harmony, and a good degree of industry, at present 
 prevail. Thus you see, that we are prepared to go on an.d fulfill the anxious 
 wishes of the friends of the cause, in relation to the cultivation of the lands, 
 and the formation of a regular moral and happy society." 
 
 Never, perhaps, in the whole annals of pioneer civilization, was an active 
 participant more needed to the success of a mission, than was Ashmun to that 
 of African Colonization. 
 
 Thej>resence of Dr. Ayres diminished, for a time, the cares and responsi 
 bilities of Mr. Ashmun, who, considering how uncertain was the time ho 
 might remain in Africa, resolved to add as much as possible to his ntock of 
 general knowledge, and prepare himself for any change in his fortunes. 
 Though he perceived that the tide was fast ebbing with him toward an 
 ocean dark and unexplored, he knew that " wisdom is more precious than 
 rubies," and whatever vicissitudes or dangers might await him, of whatever 
 else he might be deprived, he would retain her incomparable treasure. 
 
 Amid the perplexity and uncertainty of his affairs, he summoned his in 
 tellectual powers to their highest efforts. Probably, during no equal period 
 of his life, did he pursue his studies with more enthusiasm or success, than 
 from the arrival of Dr. Ayres, in May, 1823, to his departure in December 
 of the same year. The following rules for conduct, dated September, 1823, 
 indicate the principle which animated, and the spirit that then sustained 
 him : 
 
 1. Never to be guilty of a meanness which my most virtuous and spirited 
 children (should I be blessed with children possessing these qualities) would 
 blush to see published to the world as a part of a parent s biography. 
 
 2. Never, unless compelled by poverty, to accept of a situation, or engage 
 in an occupation which experience or observation have taught me would 
 cramp the exercise of abilities, either natural or acquired. 
 
 3. To study and avail myself of a quick sense of propriety, in all matters 
 small or great, of morality, judgment, manners, dress and business. 
 
 4. To build on my own foundation, and to study none but the most per 
 fect examples, living or dead. 
 
 5. To prefer the society of dead authors of eminence, to that of living 
 actors, of simple mediocrity. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 371 
 
 6. To regard the contracting of a debt, as a mortgage of personal liberty 
 and moral principle. (John Basilworth II, of Russia, affixed a brand of 
 .nfamy on such as contracted debts they could not pay, and sent them into 
 banishment.) 
 
 7. To avoid exposing myself to the degradation of espousing measures, 
 which the situation of a weaker or more ignorant man may give him the 
 power to defeat. 
 
 8. Never to assert, without being able to prove to a candid and sensible 
 man, my proposition : never to advise unless sure that the neglecter of my 
 counsel will repent his folly. 
 
 9. Never to talk without the undivided attention of all to whom I address 
 my discourse. 
 
 10. Always to utter my sentiments with precision and propriety even 
 should it cost me some previous reflection ; and never begin an expression 
 without bringing it to a perfect close. 
 
 11. Let me search after truth, and contract such an affection for it as to 
 endure in my mind no rival prejudices, or opinions, on any subject whatever. 
 
 12. To run the risk of being candid, open, sincere ; and abandon utterly 
 the friendship and confidence of any civilized man base and depraved enough 
 to attempt to gain an undue advantage of these qualities. 
 
 13. Never to commence an enterprise without being well assured of its 
 utility ; and having undertaken, never to abandon it unaccomplished. 
 
 14. To do whatever I undertake in the best possible manner, always 
 allowing for the time and means I can employ on the object. 
 
 15. To acquire a style of writing and expression, of conception and feel 
 ing of manners and deportment, which, destitute of servility, locality and 
 mannerism, shall pass current among the best ranks of people of all profes 
 sions and in all countries. 
 
 16. To continue my inquiries and reflections on whatever subject may 
 engage them, until either my information is perfectly exact, or the means of 
 extending it exhausted. 
 
 17. To vitiate no one of the appetites so far as to render it necessary t 
 health, to mental vigor, or bodily ease, to continue the indulgence. 
 
 18. To be rigorously exact in keeping my pecuniary accounts ; that I may 
 not appear mean in my disbursements. 
 
 19. To turn every portion of my time to good account. 
 
 20. To have as little connection as possible with the conceited, the over 
 bearing, the pedantic, the blustering ; and finally, with all who are incapable 
 of measuring and esteeming solid acquirements and intellectual superiority^ 
 even when sheltered from the vulgar stare by a plain and unassuming ex 
 ternal demeanor. 
 
 21. In my estimation of others, let ignorance, when no opportunity has 
 been had to remove it, be treated with kindness and indulgence ; where it 
 co-exists with a wish and effort to remove it, let it command my favor and 
 assistance ; where it is accompanied with the contented complacency of the 
 fool whom it debases, let it make me blush for the heart of a brute in the 
 form of a human being ; but, when with swaggering pretensions either to 
 knowledge or respect on some other grounds, it merits an equal share of the 
 profoundest contempt and detestation. 
 
 24 
 
372 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 To conclude, I fully believe in a particular providence regulating and 
 ordering the conduct and purposes of men ; so as to leave the voluntary 
 agent accountable. We shall be instruments to fulfill the Divine purpose* 
 nolentes volentes. If wickedness succeed for a time, it prospers by the Divine 
 decree, and can only proceed a given number of links in its chain." 
 
 For more than twelve months, Mr. Ashmun had been on the continent, 
 enduring every conceivible hardship and privation. Twice had the colony 
 been on the verge of annihilation a fate which was only averted by bii 
 heroic devotion and superior wisdom. Yet its friends at home were disposed 
 to murmur. His drafts, protested, were returned to him. To aggravate his 
 situation, some of the men began to show a spirit of insubordination. 
 Twelve of the number united in open mutiny, and tried to carry others 
 with them, upon which Ashmun gave the following public notice : "There 
 are in the colony, more than a dozen healthy persons, who will receive no 
 more provisions out of the public store, till they earn them." This, it was 
 hoped would induce them to return to duty. Such was not the case. All 
 restraint was thrown off, and they became more openly clamorous. The 
 rations of the mutineers were thereupon stopped, upon which they assembled 
 at the agency house, and stirred up quite an uproar, threatening to drive the 
 agent out. Gaining nothing by this, they proceeded to the house of the 
 commissary who was then giving out the regular rations. They rushed 
 upon him, when each seized a portion of the provision and made off. Ash 
 mun addressed them, with a dignified circular, setting forth in firm tones 
 their conduct, and warning them against a persistence therein. This had 
 the desired effect. The better disposed returned to duty, and the othen 
 being deserted, were awed into acquiescence. 
 
 Other events also transpired of great utility to the colony. In February. 
 the United States ship Cyrus brought to their assistance a reinforcement of 
 one hundred and five emigrants, mostly from Virginia. During the voyagei 
 universal health prevailed among the crew, so that when they were landed, 
 much was expected from their buoyant vigor ; that contrasted advantageously 
 enough with the worn down colonists. These hopes, however, were soon 
 dampened. The emigrants were to a man soon prostrated with the fever 
 that almost invariably attacked the unacclimated stranger. Provisions again 
 gave out. Of rice, which was an essential article of food, to all, and almost 
 indispensable to the sick, they ecarcely had a pound. To these distresses, 
 were added those of mutiny and anarchy. Uneducated and without even 
 the remotest conceptions of relative duties, they w r ere not slow to lay the 
 blame of their sufferings upon Mr. Ashmun, whose authority the most reck 
 less began openly to throw off. It soon became necessary to reduce the daily 
 rations, giving to each man but half allowance, which in no way tended to 
 allay the excited feelings of the mutineers. Ashmun assembled the colonists 
 and delivered to them an appropriate address, couched in tones of firmness 
 and decision. 
 
 Though this was not without good effect, so general had became tie spirit 
 of insubordination, that It was some time before the united co-operatic n of 
 the colonists could be secured. In the midst of these efforts for the good 
 fOf all. Ashmun s name had been handled somewhat roughly, by .some 
 journalists at home ; and his conduct was a theme of censure. Their vindi- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 373 
 
 cation mortified him very much. Things were in tins state when he started 
 on a visit to the Cape De Verde Islands, to regain his health, a measure made 
 absolutely imperative by a complication of infirmities which had reduced 
 him to a mere wreck. Before embarking he met with a serious accident. Ir 
 endeavoring to pull a decayed tooth, an artery was cut. Profuse bleeding 
 followed. While enfeebled from loss of blood, and trying to make his way to 
 the vessel, he was robbed of what he had. A paper was left on the Cape, 
 stating, that he had spent the prime of his life in the service, aiming to do 
 his duty, claiming to have kept the board correctly informed of the condition 
 of affairs, disavowing any misuse of funds, or the reception of renumeration, 
 save a slight gratuitous present asserting that more than all the profits 
 accruing from his traffic with the natives had been applied to the wants of 
 the colony, and declaring that " whoever named that barter after his absence 
 except to his advantage was an ingrate, who thrusts his viper sting into the 
 bosom which has nourished his existence." 
 
 Ashmun was now in the depths of misery. He was so weakened from 
 the loss of blood that had flowed from him for a whole day, that he could 
 scarcely move ! Indeed his life was despaired of. The colony too was iu a 
 distracted condition, and his name abused among his countrymen. 
 
 At this period, an armed schooner, the Porpoise, had been dispatched 
 from the United States to the coast of Africa, for the purpose of farthering 
 the schemes of colonization. In July, 1824, she anchored in Porto Praya 
 Harbor in the Cape De Verde Islands, soon after the arrival of Mr. Ashmun, 
 who immediately went on board. There he met Mr. Gurley, who had been 
 sent out by the Colonization Society to examine into the affairs of the colony. 
 This gentleman afterward became his biographer, and, in his Life of Ashmun, 
 thus speaks of the impression he made upon them at the time : 
 
 "There was that in his presence and aspect, which once seen, is never 
 forgotten. The officers of the ship who were strangers to him, felt that ho 
 was an extraordinary man. In his whole appearance were blended dignity 
 and humility. The serene light of reason, of goodness, of meekness, soft 
 ened the stateliness of sorrow, and threw a charm on the grandeur of his 
 storr^-haken, but self-sustained spirit. His soul seemed refreshed by ti 
 dings from his native land, and his social affections to gush forth, pure and 
 simple, as those of childhood, from the deeply-stirred fountains of his heart. 
 His remarks on the colon} , showed an extensive and thorough knowledge 
 of its interests, and the tono and manner in which they were delivered, left 
 it hardly possible to doubt that they were among the most precious objects 
 of his affection. TJbe feelings expressed in his countenance were particularly 
 observable, varying, as less or more intense, the light and shade, so that his 
 features, as was said of those of a great poet, like "a beautiful alabaster vase, 
 were only seen to perfection, when lighted up from within." Nothing was 
 detected betraying a single motive or purpose which it was not honor to 
 avow ; and the recollection that Satan himself is sometimes transformed into 
 an angel of light, alone could guard the judgment against the instant ad 
 mission of his integrity. 
 
 At our second interview, the proceedings of the board and government 
 were developed, and the object of the special mission fully explained. He 
 was told what representations of his conduct had been received from tho 
 
374: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 colony, and that confidence in his character and administration had given 
 way before the corroding power of suspicion, and the multiplied insinuations 
 and allegations directed against both. I will accompany you to the Cape, 
 said he ; my long and familiar acquaintance with the affairs of the colony 
 may enable me to render you some aid in effecting the arduous duties of 
 your mission. As he spoke, you marked the show of an unalterable purpose 
 not to abandon a cause for which he had sacrificed everything but life ; you 
 admired the elevation of his soul above all selfish considerations, towering 
 like an eagle against the storm and the thunder-cloud, and already catching 
 glimpses of the purity and brightness of the heavens. But his moral great 
 ness was ordinarily sober and grave, as though it had felt unkindness, been 
 touched by grief, and stood a solitary monument amid ruined hopes. 
 
 My favorable impressions of Mr. Ashmun s character, received at our 
 interview, were deepened by each successive conversation, inquiry, and re 
 flection on our passage ; nor should I have hesitated to predict confidently, 
 that not a shadow of evidence existed, to substantiate the charges that had 
 been urged against him. The prediction would have been verified. There 
 was no evidence. Not a man in the colony dared to accuse him of an un 
 wise or an unworthy action. Every individual of the least standing, was 
 examined personally by me on the subject ; and the result was, to my mind, 
 moral demonstration, that no man could more faithfully, more disinterestedly, 
 more resolutely, have fulfilled the duties of his station. The clouds that 
 had darkened his reputation, arose from the low grounds of ignorance and 
 the putrescent ingredients of malice, and the light of an investigation that 
 revealed the sources of their origin, dispelled them forever." 
 
 On the 13th of August, they safely reached Cape Montserado. Ashmun 
 found the condition of affairs somewhat improved. The rebellious spirit 
 seemed greatly quieted, and a partial supply of provisions had temporarily 
 relieved their distress. Everything now looked well ; hospitals were built ; 
 religious exercises attended to ; schools opened, and on all sides progress 
 was seen. The condition of the colony was transmitted to the board in an 
 early report. It was unsatisfactory. Their judgments warped by undue 
 suspicions, and blinded by prejudice, they began to look around for a 
 proper person, to assume the management of affairs. But before the selec 
 tion was made, " confirmation strong as holy writ," of Ashmun s efficiency 
 was received. Everything underwent a great change, in an almost incred 
 ible short space of time. Positive evidence came to hand, that the colony 
 was prospering, beyond all precedent ; laws were enacted, buildings erected, 
 moral sentiments infused, schools opened, and the truths of religion success 
 fully proclaimed. It was just prior to this time that he was given an oppor 
 tunity to reply to the slanderous allegations that had been made against him 
 in connection with the Repertory, and which had much to do with the change 
 of opinion on the part of the board. We have alluded elsewhere to the 
 unfortunate differences which arose between him and others, in consequence 
 of the pecuniary embarrassments of the Repertory. These differences had 
 their origin, principally, if not entirely, in misapprehension. A public notice, 
 however, had been sent forth on the cover of that work, after Mr. Ashmun s 
 departure from the country, charging him, by implication at least, with a 
 breach of trust. Though this publication was early and deeply regretted 
 
OF AMERICANS. 375 
 
 by some who lent it their sanction, others still retained the sentiments which 
 dictated it, and to these sentiments as the main source must be traced, tho 
 suspicion and distrust of Ashmun which so long infected the mind of the 
 board and of the community in which they resided. A respectable indi 
 vidual at this time frankly communicated the charges which existed against 
 him, and he therefore felt required by duty to the cause in which he was 
 engaged, as well as to himself, to meet and refute them. The conclusion 
 of this letter to the board, is inserted to show how deep were his feelings 
 on this occasion, and how eloquently he could express them : 
 
 " However lightly the accusations in question may have been resolved on 
 and published, the deed has drawn after it no trivial consequences. To have 
 robbed an individual who is known to have the sensibilities of a man, of 
 so great a share of his peace as I have suffered and must, would, if truly 
 weighed, be regarded as something ; to shake, for a season, and perhaps till 
 the grave shall hide them from me forever, the confidence of two venerable 
 parents, on whose names calumny never before dared to affix a stain, and 
 who would sooner follow their nine children to the grave, than believe that 
 one of them could disgrace it ; to blast, for a season, at least, the fond hopes 
 of one of the most respectable and numerous families in the United States ; 
 to poison, with suspicion, the minds of a numerous connection of beloved 
 and confiding friends, in half the States of the Union ; to place me as an 
 insulated being in the midst of the lower creation, bound to no part by the 
 ties of a sincere respect; to injure the valued, and in some sense, sacred 
 cause in which I have sacrificed much and hazarded more, by curtailing my 
 usefulness and weakening the bonds of mutual confidence between my em 
 ployers and myself between me and the colonists ; thus to tie up, for 
 months, from efficient exertion, the hands of a young man, whose advantages 
 have been many, and whose obligations to be useful are felt to be imperious ; 
 these are some of the actual fruits of that publication : the end of it, is yet 
 to be awaited. The board have seen on what grounds that tremendous re 
 sponsibility has been incurred. As a dispensation of heaven, I accept it 
 with- penitence for the punishment of my sins. As far as it has been the 
 work of man, I protest against it with all the abhorrence and force which its 
 character inspires. And I have done it in language which must have its 
 weight ; because it is the language of truth of truth which, whoever lives, 
 will see every opening circumstance in future to corroborate and establish. 
 On leaving the United States, I formally assigned all the uncollected arrears 
 of the Repertory to pay its debts. Availing myself, from conscientious mo 
 tives, of no insolvent laws, I delivered up every dollar of disposable property 
 I had, in proportionate shares, to my creditors. The compensation I received 
 as agent of your board, was so applied ; also a large edition of the Life of 
 Bacon, which I have been mortified to learn, has not answered mv expecta 
 tions in the sales, and consequently left a larger unsettled balance, to be 
 otherwise paid, than I anticipated. I do not allow myself to cherish a bitter 
 feeling toward any man living. * * I shall, I hope, never trouble your 
 respectable body with a similar detail ; and most probably, let the whole 
 matter slumber in silence, till a higher power shall call it up for a final de 
 cision before an unerring tribunal." 
 
 The next report of Ashmun was warmly received, and his suggestions at 
 
376 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 once acted upon. He now began to experience those delightful thrills of 
 satisfaction, incident to a just appreciation of laborious and well-meant ef 
 forts. In the spring of 1825, the number of the colonists was increased by 
 the accession of over sixty settlers from the United States. Ashmun clearly 
 saw the advantages to be derived from agricultural pursuits. To promote 
 this branch of healthful industry, he wrote some elaborate articles for the 
 Liberia Farmer, which, however, were not published at the time. With a 
 view of advancing farming interests, and directing the minds of emigrants to 
 that pursuit, he purchased a vast tract of country, lying on the Montserudo 
 and St. Paul rivers, of which final possession was taken, and everything went 
 on thrivingly. Of this and all other transactions, Ashmun was careful to 
 keep the board accurately advised. No longer was any distrust entertained 
 toward him. The board met and unanimously recommended that he be 
 continued, at the head of affairs in Liberia, intrusted with the full preroga 
 tives of chief colonial agent. Thus, after treading a bleak Zahara, without 
 an Oasis to cheer his vision, standing alone self-exiled from his native land, 
 facing danger, toil, affliction and death no company but the ghost of his 
 murdered reputation he suddenly found himself under a cloudless sky, the 
 recipient of merited fame, and an acknowledged benefactor of his race. 
 Ashmun now exercised almost paternal authority over the natives, into whose 
 good graces he had completely ingratiated himself. He was anxious to es 
 tablish the colony upon a basis that would not be easily overturned or 
 shaken a basis upon which it would grow and develop so as not only to be 
 a credit to the founders and the nation, but a model for those who hereafter 
 should undertake schemes of colonization. He wished under the broad 
 banner of civil liberty, and under religion s consecrated seal, to establish a 
 republic every way worthy the name. With the passing years, his anxiety 
 became more than ever intense ; for, as he felt the sands of life ebb away, 
 the necessity of devoting the remaining portion of his days to the work 
 became to him more apparent. Of his genius, heroism, prudence, and energy, 
 the present Republic of Liberia stands an imperishable monument. 
 
 One thing caused him great anxiety. This was the slave trade. Vessels 
 still engaged in the traffic, though the guns of the colonists frowned upon 
 them. "The purchase money," said he, in Juty, 1825, "has, during this 
 week been landed in our waters to the incalculable detriment of the colony, 
 and disgrace, shall I say, of our American Government. The colony only 
 wants the right, it has the power, to expel this traffic to a distance, and force 
 it at least to conceal some of its enormities." Soon after this, he began to think 
 of enlarging the limits of the colony. The coast from Trade Town to Cape 
 Mount was explored, with a view to bringing that portion of the country in 
 ^olonial possession. About this time, also, an English vessel was captured by 
 a Spanish slaver at Monrovia. Under the supposition th-a-t many slaves were 
 on board of the Spaniard, Ashmun determined to rescue them. With a small 
 force, he proceeded against the Spanish factory which was taken without 
 bloodshed : several slaves also were liberated. This was followed by the 
 breaking up of two other slave factories, by Ashmun, whose antipathy to 
 ward that odious traffic was firm and deep-rooted. 
 
 So far as the colony was concerned, it was now no longer an experiment. 
 In January, he thus wrote concerning their prospects : " Our town begins to 
 
OF AMERICANS. 377 
 
 assume the appearance of a beautiful little commercial West India sea-port, 
 and certainly has one of the most delightful situations on the face of the 
 globe. In beauty and grandeur of prospect, no station on the coast is half 
 so charming or half so commanding. It would, I am confident, prove to the 
 members of your board an ample renumeration for much of their disinter 
 ested labors for Africa, to make a single visit to their colony, and see a well 
 organized, improving and Christian society, founded by their hands." 
 
 At the same time, preparations were made for sending a large number of 
 emigrants from the United States, and to increase the supply of books and 
 stationery, needful for the success of the schools. These valuable accessions 
 arrived in due time, and thus things continued to look well. A printing- 
 press, and a missionary, two important levers of civilization, also arrived, 
 amid the liveliest satisfaction. From these harbingers of peace, Ashmun 
 hoped the greatest results. As these accessions came over, the limits of the 
 colony continued to enlarge spreading the lines of civilization and con 
 tracting those of barbarism and ignorance. One of the greatest nests of the 
 slave-traffickers was at Trade Town. Ashmun resolved on its destruction. 
 A Spanish vessel was there awaiting her cargo of slaves not having her 
 full number collected. Ashmun ordered what they had to be given up, and 
 the vessel to leave, assuring them that in case of refusal, the whole town 
 would be destroyed. This warning was not heeded. He then sent word to 
 a French brig-of-war, by which the slaver was speedily captured. This tran 
 saction liberated several hundred slaves. The nest at Trade Town, however, 
 was not broken up. Till this was done, Ashmun desired no pause. Two 
 vessels on voyages of slave-traffic soon after arrived : the factories were all 
 the time in full blast. Ashmun determined to stop the nefarious business. 
 With no great number of troops, a vigorous attack was made upon the town. 
 Considerable resistance was offered by the Spaniards, who drew up on the 
 beach and gave them a warm reception. They succeeded in effecting their 
 entrace into the place without heavy loss. The next day, Ashmun vainly 
 tried to settle all differences without violence. The slaves were rescued, 
 placed on board, and the town set on fire. The flames spread with great 
 rapidity. Scarce had the last troops embarked, when, communicating to the 
 magazine, the flames ignited six hundred casks of powder, and Trade Town 
 was instantly blown to atoms. The destruction of this place, Ashmun 
 hoped, would have an influence favorable to the suppression of the slave- 
 trade, but several prominent natives leagued with the slavers to establish 
 the iniquitous traffic on its old footing. Ashmun learned also that quite an 
 armament of Spanish vessels, resolving to maintain Trade Town as a port 
 for their business, were near with a show of fight. Upon this, he immedi 
 ately ordered the erection of strong fortifications, in close proximity to the 
 town, overlooking the vessels in the roadstead. He also sent word to the 
 secretary of the navy that a sufficient force to overawe the slavers was in 
 dispensable on the coast. His own unbounded influence with the native 
 chiefs, however, proved requisite to the task of holding them in check. 
 
 Ashmun had now been several years in Africa The colony was estab 
 lished and maintained principally through his own great exertions. Five 
 stations were Dlaced on a solid basis. Education was prospering, and com 
 mercial intert^ts being regulated. Never, perhaps, had so much, under civ- 
 
378 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 cumstances so singularly embarrassing, been accomplished by one man. His 
 most ardent aims had been gratified for he had established the colony on 
 an uniroperishable basis. Peacefully now might he fold his arms, in the last 
 quiet sleep of the grave, feeling that " well done," would be whispered to 
 his soul. 
 
 A celebrated writer has remarked, " that the greatest obstacle to the im 
 provement of the world is that prevailing belief of its improbability, vvhioh 
 dampens the exertions of so many individuals ; and, that in proportion as 
 the contrary opinion becomes general, it realizes the event which it leads us 
 to anticipate. Surely, if anything can have a tendency to call forth in the 
 public service the exertions of individuals, it must be an idea of the magni 
 tude of that work in which they are engaged, and a belief of the perma 
 nence of those benefits which they confer on mankind by every attempt to 
 inform and enlighten them. As in ancient Rome, therefore it was regarded 
 as a mark of a good citizen never to despair of the fortunes of the republic ; 
 so the good citizen of the world, whatever may be the political aspect of 
 his own times, will never despair of the fortunes of the human race ; and 
 that, in the moral world, as well as the material, the farther our observations 
 extend, and the longer they are continued, the more shall we perceive of 
 order and design in the universe." 
 
 These remarks will certainly apply to Ashmun in his early efforts at Afri 
 can Colonization. Not only was the scheme looked upon as improbable and 
 visionary, but he was himself, as we have seen, the victim of prejudice and 
 cruel mistrust. But, not despairing of a cause, in the furtherance of which 
 he felt well assured he had the smiles and protection of heaven, he perse 
 vered until one by one the difficulties began to give way. His eminent suc 
 cess in founding the Colony of Liberia, elicited the high praise of all parties. 
 Warm champions came to the rescue of colonization, whose practicability they 
 thus saw demonstrated. Able pens were weilded, and eloquent voices wero 
 raised in its behalf. 
 
 Amid these auspicious indications, Ashmun was gratified by the arrival, on 
 the llth April, 1826, of nearly a hundred emigrants from South Carolina, 
 and others shortly after from Georgia, bringing with them over two hundred 
 re-captured Africans.. He had for some time manifested an inclination to re 
 turn to his native land. Soon after the above arrival, feeling that it was at 
 interesting period of his labors, he thus wrote to the board : " I am at length 
 reluctantly compelled, by a sense of duty to the colony, to relinquish my in 
 tention, so long indulged and so fondly cherished, of visiting the United 
 States the present season. The arrival of so large a company at so late a 
 period of the dry season the absence of my colleague the multiplicity of 
 arduous and delicate duties, devolving on an agent in consequence of the re 
 cent extension of our settlements, the very expensive improvements com 
 menced, and nearly but not quite completed, are motives for remaining to which 
 I dare not oppose private inclination or any probable good which might grow 
 out of my return to the United States. Mr. Howley has intimated to m 
 his opinion of the impropriety of the step at the present time, and I confess 
 that the report just received of the untiring and laborious struggle in which 
 all the active friends of the cause in America are the present year engaged 
 in its behalf, has affected me with no slight feeling of self reproach, for 
 
OF AMERICANS. 379 
 
 having so lightly determined myself to quit even for n season the important 
 post of duty, assigned to me. My friends, I fear, will do little justice to 
 these motives ; but I shall apologize to them in the best way I can and 
 put up with the accusation. I know they will accuse me of having trifled 
 with their feelings, by exciting expectations which my present determination 
 is obliged bitterly to disappoint." 
 
 Much as he wished again to see the loved scenes of his youth, private en 
 joyments, in this, as in every other instance, were sacrificed for the public 
 duties of his high mission. About this time, a friendly schooner was blown 
 ashore, and almost completely wrecked. The provisions with which she 
 was laden, were much needed by the colonists. Their loss reduced them to 
 the necessity of purchasing, at a high price, such articles as they were obliged 
 to have. Nor was this the only loss. Ashmun was exposed to a four hours 
 rain, while trying to save the vessel, which resulted in a severe fever, and 
 rheumatism that brought him to death s door. For three weeks he suffered 
 the most acute, agonizing pains and burning fevers. Soon after his recovery, 
 a treaty of peace was concluded with the refractory chiefs, at Trade Town, 
 by which mutual protection and encouragement were guaranteed by both 
 parties. Hostilities now began ^etween two of the native tribes, which 
 Ashmun vainly tried to reconc ; le. His efforts, however, kept both of the 
 belligerent parties on good terms with the colonists, which was the prime 
 object of his mediation in the matter. 
 
 At this time, he established an infirmary for the benefit of the sick and 
 disabled, which went into operation under happy auspices, that insured the 
 best results. The public schools, also, were re-organized, and put more effi 
 ciently to work. To secure that economy among the emigrants so essential 
 to success and prosperity, he also recommended that such goods and com 
 modities, as were shipped by the United States, should be exchanged for 
 the native products, as being much the cheapest, and easier procured. To 
 internal improvements, too, he gave considerable attention, and put a good 
 force to clearing the Montserado River, so as to render it more navigable and 
 better adapted to faciliate the operations of commerce. In this way, his 
 genius and devotion were always actively on the alert for the benefit of the 
 colony. Nothing conducive to a spirit of industrious enterprise, and pro 
 gressive refinement was neglected. Several military companies were also 
 organized, as a defense against any depredations or unforseen emergencies 
 that might occur. The stations had increased to eight in number, and each 
 was more efficiently organized than before. While all this had been accom 
 plished, remarkable as it may seem, such were the administrative talents of 
 Ashrnun, that nearly all the expenses had been defrayed by the internal 
 workings of the colony, independent of exterior aid. In fact, the last year s 
 operations developed a profit of several thousand dollars. Elated at his 
 success, Ashmun left no means untried to maintain his hard-earned fame, 
 and ascendant advantages. Industrial pursuits and education he looked upon 
 as subjects of primary interest, in the enlightenment of Africa. Farms were 
 opened, and the natives incited to their tillage. To the subject of schools, 
 he continued his earnest attention. This he looked upon as being one of 
 the most important objects of his mission. "Whether," says he, "we re- 
 gard such schools as a cheap means of extending the power of the colon v 
 
380 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 as the most effectual instruments of civilizing the continent as a noble ex 
 ercise of Christian philanthropy, or the best expression of Christian piety 
 (and the object, I think, is susceptible of either of these views) no work 
 connected with the rearing of the colony, is, in my opinion, more desirable. 
 I think it nearly capable of moral demonstration, that the African tribes may 
 be civilized without expulsion from their chosen settlements and villages, 
 and without that fearful diminution of their population, which has, from 
 causes that do not exist here, as in regard to the Indians of America, accom 
 panied the march of civilization in that hemisphere." By this time, through 
 the active exertions of the colonists, not only were all things working well 
 immediately at home, but the interior of the country was explored with re 
 ference to enlarging the colonial boundaries. The population they found was 
 of an active, enterprising sort, and had made considerable progress in agri 
 culture. 
 
 Early in the year 1828, a United States vessel reached Liberia, with over 
 one hundred more emigrants. This arrival found Ashmun in the midst of 
 perplexing engagements. Several vessels were in port, the affairs of which 
 demanded his personal consideration. Such an accumulation of labor, he 
 said, " I never felt pressing on me before. Days and nights were too short. 
 But I dispatched, previous to the 25th, three of the vessels, when another 
 arrived from Sierra Leone, with special claims on my attention." In addi 
 tion to this, a piratical Spanish vessel menaced the coast in a threatening 
 manner, that required of Ashmun the necessity of keeping a sharp look-out 
 upon her movements. 
 
 Soon after this, he visited, in person, all the principal native chiefs of the. 
 vicinity, giving assurance of his good will to them. From excessive fatigue 
 incident to this combination of arduous duties, he was attacked by a severe 
 fever, from the effects of which he suffered for some time. His embarrass 
 ments were magnified also, by the sickness of the recently-arrived emigrants, 
 among whom there was not a single well man. After awhile, however, 
 things began to mend, and prospects to materially brighten up again. In 
 February, he thus wrote : " For the last four days, my strength has returned 
 almost as rapidly as it went. But I hope the event will advertise the board, 
 that the constitution of their agent here is not to be depended on and that 
 a most probable item of intelligence may very shortly be, that he too is 
 numbered with the departed. May provision be made accordingly. For 
 myself, alone, the event has no appalling features but to leave the colony, 
 to quit a field of labor forever, in which so litt.le is yet done and so much 
 ought to be done here I fear will be the distressing pang of dying. But 
 the colony depends, I am persuaded, on the life of no one or ten indivi 
 duals ; and it is a vanity I do not indulge, that it has any such dependence 
 on my own. But it is a field of labor in which if better workmen are not 
 employed, I wish to be myself so long as with the Divine blessing I can do 
 any good." 
 
 These thoughts, that he was approaching his final rest, were verified. He 
 soon became so much enfeebled, that his physician gave his written opinion 
 that the only hope for his life was in his return to the United States. On 
 the 28th of March, he embarked on board of a vessel, and left Africa for 
 ever. Never were greater tokens of respect shown by any community oil 
 
OF AMERICANS. 381 
 
 taking leave of their head. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants of Mon 
 rovia, men, women and children, were out on the occasion, and nearly all 
 of them parted from him in tears. He suffered so intensely on the voyage, 
 that it was doubtful if he should survive to reach his native land. He 
 arrived at New Haven, Connecticut, where he continued to sink until he 
 expired, August 25, 1828, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. 
 
 On the next day, a large concourse of the citizens of New Haven, and of 
 the neighboring towns, united in a solemn tribute of respect to his memory, 
 and attended his remains to the grave. The assembly had already filled tho 
 Central Church, to which the body of the deceased was conveyed, and the 
 minister of Christ just concluded his humble supplications to the God of all 
 mercy and consolation, when a venerable, solitary female entered the con 
 gregation, and with a look which told what her tongue might in vain have 
 essayed to speak, approached the corpse. It was the mother of Ashmun ! 
 Every heart in that vast assembly beat fainter, as they beheld this aged 
 matron, who had traveled for several days and nights from a remote part of 
 the country, in the hope of embracing her living son, pressing her lips, and 
 her heart upon the coffin which concealed all that remained of that son in 
 death, forever from her sight. 
 
 The discourse of the Eev. Leonard Bacon, on this occasion, was a just 
 and eloquent defense of the spirit that animates the martyrs to a great and 
 good cause, and under the power of which Ashmun had sacrificed his life 
 in the service of Africa. " His example (said the preacher) shall speak. 
 There have been men whose names are as way-marks ; whose examples, 
 through successive ages, stir the spirits of their fellow-men with noble emu 
 lation. What has been done for God, and for the souls of men, and for the 
 cause of wretched human nature, by the luster which gathers around the 
 name of David Brainerd. How many lofty spirits has the simple history 
 of his toils and sorrows kindled and roused to kindred enterprise. Other 
 names there are, which beam from age to age with the same glory. How 
 ard, Clarkson, Swartz, Mills, what meaning is there in such names as these. 
 Our departed friend will add another to that brilliant catalogue. He takes 
 
 his olace 
 
 Amid th nugust and never dying light 
 Of constellated spirits who have gained 
 A name iu heaven by power of heavenly deeds. 
 
 Let us praUe God for the light of his example, which shall never be ex 
 tinguished, and which, as it beams on us, shall also beam on our childreo, 
 moving them to deeds of godlike benevolence. 
 
 Praise ! for yet one more name with power endowed, 
 
 To cheer and guide us, onward as we press ; 
 Yet one more image, on the heart bestowed, 
 To dwell there, beautiful in holiness. 
 
 We have come to his grave. A simple, but beautiful monument, erected 
 by the managers of the American Colonization Society, in the church-yard 
 of Now Haven, bears the name of Ashmun. This monument may perish, 
 but that name never. It is engraven on the heart of Africa. In his person, 
 Mr. Ashmun was tall his hair and eyes light his features regular and cast 
 in the finest mould his mariners mild, yet dignified and in his counte- 
 
382. ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 nance an expression of tho gentlest affections softened the lineaments of a 
 lofty, firm, and fearless minu." 
 
 Liberia, since having been placed on a firm basis through the exertions of 
 Mr. Ashmun, has prospered beyond all example. It now extends along the 
 Guinea Coast for a distance of four hundred and twenty miles, with an 
 average breadth of forty miles inland. It consists of Liberia proper, and 
 Maryland in Liberia, the latter being that part south of Cape Palmas. The 
 country has been all purchased from time to time by the American Coloni 
 zation Society, and its climate greatly improved, although it is deadly to 
 whites, by a systematic drainage and clearance of the woods. Until the year 
 1848, Liberia remained a dependency upon the United States. In that year, 
 it was formed into an independent republic, and as such was recognized by 
 Great Britain and France. Its government is upon the same model as that 
 of the United States, consisting of a president, a vice president, and two 
 houses of congress. 
 
 The natural resources of Liberia are immense. Cotton is natural to the 
 soil of which it produces two crops a year. Coffee thrives well, and the 
 sugar-cane grows luxuriantly. Its annual exports, principally of tropical 
 productions, amount to over half a million of dollars. The population of 
 the Republic of Liberia, in 1850, was two hundred and fifty thousand, of 
 whom fifty thousand speak the English language. A thirst for education 
 has been awakened among the surrounding native tribes, for four hundred 
 and five hundred miles ; many of them send their children to be educated in 
 the republic. The Liberians have built for themselves about thirty churchesj 
 possess numerous schools and printing presses. More than twenty thousand 
 natives have requested to be taken under the protection of the state, while 
 not less than one hundred thousand live on its territory and three hundred 
 and fifty thousand are bound to it by treaties to abolish the slave-trade. At 
 different times ten buildings, erected by slave-traders for the storage of slaves 
 have been burned down by the Liberians, arid hundreds of their fellow crea 
 tures therein confined liberated ; and they at all times afford a refuge for the 
 weak and the oppressed. The adjoining English colony of Sierra Leone is 
 far inferior to Liberia having but about one quarter of its population, and as 
 yet remaining a dependency upon the English crown. 
 
 Monrovia is the capital of Liberia. It has a population of about twelve 
 thousand ; beside this there are twenty other towns and villages in the terri 
 tory. It is said to be a beautiful thriving American-like town, with hand 
 some churches, elegant private residences, imposing business stores of bnck 
 on almost every street ; all indicating, the most complete development of the 
 amplest resources of mind and body on the part of its citizens. 
 
 Tho men of color who have migrated to Liberia have felt the influences 
 of enterprise and freedom, and are improved alike in their condition and 
 character. Those who were slaves become masters; those who were once 
 dependent have become independent; once the objects of charity, they are 
 now benefactors, and the very individuals who, a few years ago, felt their 
 spirits oppressed and incapable of high efforts and great achievements, now 
 stand forth conscious of their dignity and power, sharing in all the privileges 
 and honors of a respected, a free and a Christian people. 
 
J * 
 
 
 
 

NARRATI-VE 
 
 THE 
 
 MIER EXPEDITION 
 
 WITH A HISTORY OF THE SURVIVORS WHO* WERE. IMPRISONED IN TJI* 
 
 
 
 CASTLE OF PEROTE, IN MEXICO 
 
 THE Texas Revolution was a remarkable exhibition of American character. 
 
 For-nine years a population of twenty thousand of our people successfully.. 
 
 "cop tended against a nation of eight millions. It was a bloody struggle, 
 
 " markedly many thrilling episodes, illustrating the coolest bravery in peril, 
 
 and-tKa manliest fortitude in adversity. 
 
 The "history of the Mier Expedition well exhibits the character of those 
 heroic peoplej as given by Thomas J. Green, one of the Texan officers, who 
 subsequently published his journal of its events, and from which this 
 article is derived. 
 
 la the year 1842, the Mexicans having twice invaded Texas," marking 
 .their course by the usual atrocities of that half- savage people, President 
 .Houston, in September, issued a proclamation calling for volunteers to 
 "rendezvous at \Bexar, pursue the enerjiy into Mexico, and chastise him for 
 his insolence and wrongs." fey Koy,ember, some twelve hundred Texans 
 assembled at Bexar, and nvera placed under the command of General Som- 
 . erville. Through various .causes this force was dwindled down to a few 
 hundred men, witb. $ ( }jicTi Somerville after much de,lay marched to the ;Rio 
 Grande, the Mexican MOrces, under general Woll retreating before them. 
 Then Somerville abandoned all the objects of the .camp aign, alleging that 
 "he thought it. imprudent to.-.remain lortger, as the enemy might concen 
 trate." He started for home, accompanied by his staff and a few over two 
 .-hundred men, leaving behind three hundred and four of his Texan com 
 panions in arms, who, having come to fight, determined to be gratified at 
 all hazards. 
 
 This little band elected Colonel William S. Fisher commander, and de 
 scended the Rio Grande, part in barges and part on land. Colonel Thomas 
 J, Green held the office of commander of the flotilla and right wing of the 
 forces. On the 21st of December, they arrived in the vicinity of Mier, 
 next to Matamoras, the most important town on the Rio Grande. As 
 the place was then destitute of troops for its defense, they marched into it 
 without molestation. According to the customs of war ,, and which, more 
 over, their own destitute condition warranted, they mad& requisition upon 
 the alcalde for various stores of provisions, clothing, arms, etc. This was 
 acceded to, upon which the troops retired from the place, carrying with 
 
 (383V 
 
334 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 them to their camp below the city the alcalde, as a hostage for the per 
 formance of the agreement. Under various pretexts its fulfillment was de 
 layed until on the 25th, when news came that seven hundred Mexicans, 
 with t\vo field-pieces, commanded by Ampudia and Canales, had arrived on 
 the opposite or right bankof the river. The Texans crossed over to give 
 them battle, upon which they retreated into Mier. 
 
 Two of the most efficient of the Texan spies unfortunately had been 
 made prisoners. One of these was the afterward much noted Captain 
 Samuel H. Walker. On being interrogated by Ampudia as to the numbers 
 and intentions of the Texans, with the threat of death if he told falsely, 
 Walker replied, "that his life was in the general s hands, but that it was 
 neither their habit nor nationality to lie ; that the force of the Texans was 
 about three hundred men." "They surely have not the audacity to pursue 
 and attack me in town," rejoined Ampudia. "Yes, general," said Walker, 
 "you need not have any doubts on that point ; they will pursue and attack 
 you in !" 
 
 The Texans continued in pursuit of the flying Mexicans, when night 
 closed in upon them, just as they had reached the outskirts of Mier. The 
 night being dark and drizzling with rain, the men were ordered to sit and 
 protect their rifles from the damp until the general position of the enemy 
 could be learned. This was -done, when, after some little skirmishing, the 
 Mexican outposts were carried, and the Texans fought their way by degrees 
 in the direction of the military square, making openings through the adobe 
 walls of the houses by crowbars. All night long the battle was kept up, 
 and many a Mexican fell before the unerring rifle of those frontiermen. 
 When day dawned they were in the very heart of the city, with the loss 
 of only one man killed and two wounded, having beaten all opposition, and 
 being strongly posted in some adobe houses. 
 
 " In less than an hour," says Green, " after daylight opened upon us, 
 their artillery was silenced and deserted, and the enemy had recourse to the 
 house-tops, from whence they ventured to pour down upon the houses we 
 occupied volleys of musketry. In the many thousand cartridges discharged 
 at us, an occasional one would take effect, and we hud some valuable men 
 killed and several wounded. In this situation, some of our best rifles and 
 surest shots were brought into play, and they not permitted to fire except 
 with dead rest and sure aim. This explains why a large majoritv of their 
 killed and wounded were shot in the head and breast, the only part exposed 
 in firing at us. However, to obtain a better position for some of our picked 
 fifle.men, holes were made in the roofs of the houses we occupied, through 
 which they ascended, and in that position we soon cleared all the houses 
 within reach. Thus the battle continued until 12 M., and it was perfectly 
 clear, fiom the manner in which their fire had slackened in every quarter, 
 that they were badly crippled. One movement more on our part was neces 
 sary to complete the victory, and that was by commanding the public square, 
 their stronghold. 
 
 About this time, a column of the enemy charged down a street upon the 
 north of the building we occupied. Colonel Fisher, being at that point, 
 threw himself, with some twenty men, suddenly into the street, and received 
 their firo, which severoly wounded several of his men, cutting off also the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 385 
 
 ball of his right thumb. They effectually returned their fire, when the 
 party fled. Up to this time, for the last six hours, the artillery nearest us 
 had been silenced, and no one of the enemy dared approach it. It had 
 already, as we were afterward told, proved the death of fifcy-five out of 
 their sixty choice artillery company. To get it out of our reach, they had 
 recourse to throwing a lasso over it from behind a corner, and dragging it off. 
 Just about this time, they were blowing a charge in different directions, 
 1 he writer was in the upper end of the buildings nearest the square, when 
 he received information that Colonel Fisher was wounded : hastening to 
 where he was, he found him vomiting from the effects of his wound. At 
 this juncture, in the midst of victory, we date our misfortunes. 
 
 Dr. Sinnickson, one of the eight men who had been taken prisoners over 
 the Alcantra, having been brought to General Ampudia s headquarters, was 
 put upon his examination as to our force, etc.; it, however, corroborated 
 Walker s statement. In General Ampudia s staff, as surgeon -general, was 
 Dr. Humphries, a Scotchman by birth, formerly surgeon in the Texan army. 
 The surgeon-general knew Dr. Sinnickson in Brazoria, and as soon as he 
 communicated the fact to the Mexican officers, the cunning Canales and Ca- 
 rasco suggested, as a last alternative, that their old deception of a wliiteflag 
 should be tried upon us. At this time, so badly were they whipped, that 
 we were told by Walker, Lnsk, and other prisoners, tied at Ampudia s head 
 quarters, that the officers horses were saddled, and held each by the bridle, 
 and that the gate of the churchyard upon the Matamoras road was opened, 
 and every preparation was being made for flight, when Dr. Sinnickson was 
 started to us with a white flag. Walker and others, who had been prison 
 ers since the day previous, had witnessed the battle from where they were 
 confined, knew the enemy was badly beaten, and knew their condition too 
 well for either of them to be sent in to us. Dr. Sinnickson, having just 
 been taken prisoner, and knowing but little of the condition of the enemy, 
 had no chance to communicate with the other prisoners, and on this ac 
 count, as well as from his being surgeon in our army, he was selected to 
 bring in the flag to us. At the time he started with it, the other prisoners 
 believed it was for the purpose of asking terms from us, nor were they un 
 deceived in this particular until they saw a portion of our men marching 
 into the public square to lay down their arms. 
 
 Dr. Sinnickson was ordered by General Ampudia to say to the Texan 
 commander "that he had one thousand seven hundred regular troops in the 
 city, and eight hundred fresh troops near by from Monterey, which would 
 be up in a few minutes ; that it was useless for him to contend longer 
 against such odds, and that, if he would surrender his forces, they should 
 be treated with all the honors and considerations of prisoners of war; and 
 that our men should not be sent to Mexico, but kept upon the frontier until 
 an exchange or pacification was effected ; and that, if these terms were 
 not acceded to, we should be allowed no quarter." 
 
 Some few moments elapsed between Dr. Sinnickson s first communica 
 tion with Colonel Fisher, and the astounding information which was com 
 municated to our men, that it was a demand for us to surrender, for up to 
 this time a general impression prevailed that they were asking terms of us. 
 When this information was communicated to our men, it was promptly me^ 
 
386 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 by a general burst of disapprobation, "that they never would surrender 
 their arms." 
 
 Colonel Fisher sought an interview with General Ampudia. During his 
 absence, such good use was made of the time by those in favor of fighting 
 it out, that on his return not over twenty of the whole number were in 
 favor of surrendering. Says Green : Colonel Fisher formed the different 
 companies in the street, to communicate the result of his interview with 
 the Mexican commander, which was a reiteration of his former promises, 
 and he concluded by saying, that "I have known General Ampudia foi 
 years know him to be an honorable man, and will vouch for his carrying 
 them out ; that if you are willing to accept of these terms, you will march 
 into the public-square and give up your arms, or prepare for battle in five 
 minutes ; that, in any view of the case, your situation is a gloomy one, for 
 you cannot fight your way out of this place to the Rio Grande, short of a 
 loss of two thirds or perhaps the wliole; but if you are determined to fight, 
 I will be with you, and sell my life as dear as possible." This speech was 
 a deathblow to all farther prospect of fighting, for it at once determined 
 half of the men to surrender, who instantly separated from the remainder, 
 and moved off in the direction of the square. 
 
 Now a scene commenced which defies description. In the countenances 
 of those whom Colonel Fisher s speech did not induce to surrender, were 
 disappointment, sorrow, rage ; many shed tears, some swore, while others 
 maintained a sullen determination, which showed that they were prepared 
 for the worst. Those who marched off with the intention of surrendering, 
 showed in their countenances that they believed the act would purchase 
 their lives. They did not pass Reese and Pearson s companies, which were 
 still formed nearest the square, without a shower of imprecations upon their 
 heads. "Go !" said one ; "I hope you may never enjoy the sight of your 
 
 country and liberty again !" " Go," added another, " you cowards ! 
 
 and rot in chains and slavery !" and such like anathemas, which, from their 
 solemn truths, seemed to fall heavily upon their spirits, for they returned 
 no answer, but marched into captivity in silent obedience. In a feeling of 
 rage and contempt, which I was far from controlling, I pursued this party 
 several steps, determined to exhaust the last shot of my repeater upon 
 them, and take the consequences. Here I was met by an old friend, whose 
 head was frosted by seventy winters; he addressed me in a tone of feeling 
 and friendship, that not only disarmed me of my intention, but possessed 
 me of another feeling which absorbed my whole soul. I believed that we 
 would be sacrificed, felt that I could stand it, and longed to see whether the 
 others could. Under this feeling, I broke my arms upon the pavement, 
 and said to them, " Now we will see who can stand shooting the best." In 
 a few minutes I went into the square, where I found a group of officers in 
 front of several companies of infantry. Among this group was the Mexi 
 can surgeon -general, Dr. Humphries, who knew me in Texas : he advanced 
 and spoke to me cordially. I asked him to show me General Ampudia, 
 which he did. Unhooking my naked sword-belt, I advanced and delivered 
 it to him, announcing mj^self at the same time. I remarked to him, that, 
 "having opposed the surrender in vain, I was prepared either for the prison 
 >r to be shot, and was perfectly indifferent in the choice." He received mi 
 
OF AMERICANS. 387 
 
 kindly, and replied, that " he appreciated the feelings of the brave but 
 mine was the fate of war ; that his house and friendship were mine, and 
 that he hoped I would consider myself his guest, and call upon him freely 
 for any service in his power." I thanked him for his personal good feel 
 ings, and turned to look for the party who had preceded me, and found 
 their rifles laid out in a row upon the ground, and two or three officers 
 counting their catskin and tiger-tailed pouclies with an indifference which 
 showed they knew nothing of their value. This was a melancholy sight, 
 from which I was relieved by some one calling to me from the iron grating 
 of a window about forty yards distant. I approached the window, and 
 found about one hundred of our men jammed into a small filthy room ; 
 and the man who was calling to me wished me to " keep an eye upon the 
 disposition of their arms, for," said he, "we find too late that you were cor 
 rect, and if we can get hold of our tools once more, we will go it with a 
 looseness." Thus soon did their repentance commence, and long will it 
 continue. 
 
 The balance of our men, as their arms were delivered up, were thrust 
 into two other rooms, each distant from the other sixty or eighty steps. 
 General Ampudia invited Colonel Fisher and myself to his headquarters, 
 on the opposite side of the square adjoining the church. In this room was 
 seated at a table the cunning Canales, drawing up the "Articles of Capitu 
 lation," which were soon after imposed upon us for what they did not con 
 tain. 
 
 The aggregate number of Texans engaged in the battle was two hundred 
 and sixty-one; our loss being ten killed, twenty-three badly and several 
 slightly wounded. The aggregate number of the Mexican forces engaged 
 was twenty-three hundred and forty. Their loss was between seven and 
 eight hundred killed and wounded. We were informed at Matamoras by 
 the United States consul and several American and English gentlemen, who 
 had it in confidence from the Mexican officers, that their loss exceeded 
 eight hundred in killed and wounded. Their official report to the war de 
 partment of the amount of ammunition expended in the battle was nine 
 hundred cannon cartridges and forty-three thousand musket cartridges, be 
 sides three hundred rockets, etc., while ours was between fourteen and fif 
 teen hundred of every description. There never has existed, in any age, 
 a nation who understood so well as the Texans this important matter, 
 "never to shoot without killing;" and this will explain why a larger pro 
 portion than one to two of our shots took effect in this battle. 
 
 With the permission of General Ampudia, I visited the church that 
 evening to see our wounded, and carried them a quantity of bandages. 
 Doctors Sinnickson, Brennem, and Shepherd were then attending them. 
 All appeared to be cheerful, though most of them were badly and several 
 mortally wounded. I have never yet seen a calamity so great befall Texans 
 as to prevent their making fun ; and upon inquiry as to how they \\ere off 
 for rations, they replied, "0! we have plenty of brains, general." In the 
 same building, one hundred and thirty-six of the enemy s wounded were 
 stretched out on the floor, many of whom had been shot in the head, and 
 their brains had oozed out, from the size of a marble to that of one s fist. 
 It was a horrible sight, but will explain what our fun-making wounded 
 25 
 
388 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 meant. The enemy were mostly wounded in the head and breast, a largd 
 portion of whom died the first night. 
 
 Thus ended the battle of Mier, which, in its moral and political conse 
 quences to our country, was a glorious triumph. It was there that the peo 
 ple of Texas demonstrated the practicability of conquering and holding 
 that rich valley against immense odds. It was there that the people ci 
 Texas pursued and fought them nine to one, killing treble their own num 
 ber, and proving themselves invincible to everything but duplicity and 
 treachery ; and it was there that the Texan made the sound of his rifle and 
 death synonymous terms throughout Mexico. 
 
 On the 31st of December, General Ampudia took up his line of march 
 for the City of Mexico, via Matamoras, with his prisoners. They were 
 strongly guarded by artillery behind, and before and on each side by cavalry 
 and infantry with fixed bayonets. The men were hurried along at a rapid 
 rate, suffering greatly from fatigue and want of water. The first night they 
 encamped opposite Comargo. Their blankets had been stolen from them, 
 a bleak norther was blowing, and when their scanty fires had burned down, 
 they raked away the burning coals, and laid in piles in the ashes to keep 
 themselves warm. 
 
 The next day, New Year s day, 1843, they entered Comargo, where com 
 menced the grand menagerie show of the prisoners, which was continued 
 during their zig-zag march of one thousand five hundred miles in Mexico. 
 They were paraded through the town and around the public-square under 
 the ringing of bells, firing of guns and crackers, and the vivas of the popu 
 lace. Little boys and girls preceded them, displaying long rolls of paper 
 with bombastic mottoes " Glory to the brave Canales Eternal honor to 
 the immortal Ampudia," etc. 
 
 Continuing their march, they were the next night herded in a cow-pen, 
 like so many cattle. The fun-makers, to complete the character, dropped 
 down upon all- fours, bowed their necks, pawed up the dirt, and lowed like 
 bulls, to the no small astonishment of their captors. The next night, their 
 lodgings being a sheep-pen, the comedians had a new character to play, and 
 it is certain they "bleated more like sheep than any sheep in all Mexico." 
 It was of much importance to their captors to get cow-pens to put the cap 
 tives in, and they were often resorted to on the march, for, being walled 
 with lofty pickets, they were the more easily guarded. 
 
 On nearing Matamoras many of the prominent citizens came but to meet 
 General Ampudia, and to congratulate him upon his victory. "Among 
 these," says Green, " were two of our acquaintances, Tom and Esau. These 
 yentlemen, now of so much consequence as to ride three leagues in a coach 
 to congratulate Gener.il Ampudia upon his splendid victory, were General 
 Sam Houston s two barbers, so well known to the public of Texas. Tom 
 treated us with marked attention, spoke of his prospects in that country, 
 his intended nuptials, invited us to the wedding, and said that General Am* 
 pu dia was to stand godfather on the occasion. He remarked to General 
 Ampudia, upon meeting him, in our presence, Well, general, / told you, 
 before leaving Matamoras, that when you met these gentlemen you would 
 catch it ! " 
 
 The next day, January 9th, they marched to Matamoras. Says Green : 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 " Many women and girls came out with joyous countenances to meet their 
 husbands and sweethearts ; but, alas ! for them, they had experienced the 
 effects of the Texan rifles at Mier, and they returned with heavy hearts 
 and bitter lamentations. A triumphal arch was thrown across the principal 
 street through which we passed at every hundred yards ; and, to make the 
 grand pageant as imposing as possible, soldiers were stationed upon each 
 side of the street, about thirty feet apart, and what they lacked in soldiers 
 they made up for the occasion by placing soldier-clothes upon citizens. 
 Our men followed slowly and solemnly up one street and down another, to 
 give the populace full opportunity to gaze at and heap upon them dirty 
 epithets, of which their language is so copious. Among the populace were 
 a number of negroes, who had absconded from Texas; these were among 
 the foremost in their abusive epithets, and our men, without the power of 
 punishing such insolence, would gnash their teeth in rage." 
 
 In the march from Matamoras, Colonels Fisher and Green, Dr. Shepherd, 
 Adjutant Murry, S. C. Lyon, and the interpreter, Daniel Drake Henrie, were 
 each furnished with a horse, placed under an escort of a company of cav 
 alry, and sent on their route in advance of the main body. These officers 
 were generally treated with kindness. At Monterey, which they reached 
 on the 22d of January, they remained six days inmates of the family of 
 Colonel Bermudez, a fine hospitable old gentleman, with several beautiful 
 daughters. " These amiable ladies," says Green, " to beguile our heavy 
 hours, would sing and play upon the guitar and piano for us, and at even 
 ings would invite the elite of the city, some of them doubtless coming to, 
 see us Texans, whom they would introduce as muy valiente, very bravo,. 
 At these evening coteries, we would endeavor to appear as if nothing had 
 happened to us, and join in the dance as lightsome as any. The ladies 
 would say, What wonderful people you must be ! here you are, prisoners 
 in a foreign land, having already passed many dangers, and you must expect 
 to fall into hands who will treat you unkindly for all Mexicans are not 
 what they should be and still you appear as if nothing had befallen you. 
 
 How delightful it is to witness the salutations of Mexican female friends ! 
 they trip across the room to meet each other with a gait superior to that of 
 our women, and, instead of grasping the hand, they embrace with a be 
 witching, gossamer, ethereal touch, which cannot properly be described. In 
 their ball-dress they look like winged creatures. Most of the Mexican 
 dances are exceedingly beautiful ; there is a luxury in the music, and a 
 fascinating swing in their women peculiarly winning. Nothing can exceed 
 the grace of their quadrilles and contra-danccs. Their fandango is a lively 
 operation, mostly danced by the more common people, in which the gen 
 tleman leads his partner to the center of the room ; here they move face to 
 face, the gentleman beating his feet against the floor in admirable time to 
 the music, while the lady faces him in a regular monotonous hitch-up and 
 back-down step, as uniform as the oscillation of a pendulum. Thus it is 
 kept up until each party is relieved by some other groups." 
 
 On the 28th, Colonel Fisher and party, under escort, started for Saltillo, 
 where they arrived on the 30th. The main body of the prisoners, under 
 charge of Colonel Canales, with six hundred infantry and cavalry, arrived 
 at Saltillo on the 5th of February, but not until they had all got one hun- 
 
390 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 dred and twenty miles, to the hacienda Salado, which was on the 10th, did 
 any chance offer for private communication between the Texan officers and 
 men. The latter were highly elated, and a plan was at once formed to 
 charge their guards at daybreak the next morning, and make a bold stroke 
 for liberty. The plot was successfully put into execution the next morning, 
 but too late for the assistance or the benefit of the officers, who had been 
 sent on with their escort, and had gotten nearly a mile from the place when 
 the event took place. Green thus narrates the circumstances : 
 
 "The llth of February should be an ever memorable day in the history 
 of Texan liberty, alike honorable to the country for the spirit in which that 
 glorious movement was planned and executed. As our men advanced far 
 ther into the country, the more oppressive became the conduct of those un 
 der whose charge they were. On sundry occasions, the Mexican soldiers 
 had been permitted to beat several of them. This was in such gross viola 
 tion of our articles of capitulation, and afforded such a precious foretaste 
 of Mexican magnanimity, that they determined not to let slip this last 
 opportunity of regaining their liberty ; and the prospect of having their 
 officers with them in their glorious enterprise determined the blow. Among 
 the privates foremost in the charge, as well as in bringing about the result 
 and to their lasting honor we record their names were Dr. II. F. Brennem, 
 S. H. Walker, J. D. Cooke, Colonel William F. Wilson, Patrick Lyons, and 
 others. The officers were generally in favor of the attempt ; and at the 
 appointed time, the lamented Cameron, with a quiet coolness peculiar to 
 him in trying emergencies, raised his hat, and giving it a gentle flourish in 
 the air, said, in a distinct tone, a little mixed with his Highland brogue, 
 * Well, boys, we will go it ! Thus saying, and suiting the action to the 
 word, he grappled one of the sentinels at the inner door of their prison- 
 yard, while S. H. Walker seized the other. It was the work of an instant 
 <to upset and disarm these, and get possession of the outer court, where the 
 .arms and cartridge boxes were guarded by one hundred and fifty infantry. 
 These men were quickly driven out or made to surrender; and while our 
 4nen were arming themselves and securing ammunition, the cavalry had 
 formed in front of the outer gate, which was also guarded by the company 
 of Red -Caps. In passing through the gate to charge this company and 
 the cavalry, poor Doctor Brennem and Patrick Lyons fell, and several others 
 were wounded. That portion of the cavalry which was mounted quickly 
 fell back beyond the reach of our fire, while the Red-Caps retreated round 
 the main wall of the buildings to the south, through the gate into the court 
 yard, which our party had just before left. A portion of our rnen pressed 
 around to force this gate, believing still that we weje in our quarters. Here 
 Captain Fitzgerald received his death-wound, and John Stansbury, quite a 
 boy, had his left eye shot out. The company of Red-Caps soon capitu 
 lated, and gave up their arms : the only condition which our men required 
 of Colonel Barragan, in releasing them, was, that our wounded should b 
 treated kindly. 
 
 We had three killed Dr. Brennem, Lyons, and Rice. Captain Fitzge 
 rald and John Higgerson were mortally wounded, and died soon after; and 
 * Captain J. R. Baker, privates Stansbury, Hancock, Trehern, and Harvey, 
 wounded. The enemy s loss was nine or ten killed, and many more badly 
 
OF AMERICANS. 391 
 
 wounded. From the difficulty of getting arms in the commencement of 
 the action, it was not possible that more than one half of our two hundred 
 and fourteen men, with the exception of those who fought with brickbats, 
 could have been engaged. 
 
 Thus it was that the Texans gave the world another evidence of theii, 
 superiority over the Mexicans, when one hundred unarmed men charged 
 three hundred with arms, beat them, disarmed them, and then turned them 
 loose as harmless things." 
 
 By ten o clock A. M., the Texans, to the number of one hundred and 
 ninety-three, mounted their horses, and took up their line of march home 
 ward, leaving their wounded behind. They proceeded on for a day or two 
 without especial molestation, when their leader, Captain Edwin Cameron, 
 was influenced against his better judgment, to leave the main road and 
 take to the mountains. Had they continued as they started, there is no 
 doubt but that they would have got out of the country in safety, as it was 
 subsequently ascertained that the Mexicans were not in sufficient force in 
 that quarter to make any effectual opposition. Once in the mountains, 
 their troubles commenced. The country was too rough for their horses, 
 water was very scarce, and they made but little progress. On the night of 
 the 14th, they encamped in a deep gorge of the mountains. The next 
 morning they found water, the first they had seen in twenty-four liours. 
 At this spot, they determined to kill their fattest horses, jerk the meat, and 
 then proceed on foot. So, having stationed sentinels upon the peaks of the 
 highest adjoining mountains, they led their horses down into thu ravine and 
 commenced the mournful task. In doing so, no language can describe the 
 feelings of these bold men men who, in battle, had slain their scores of 
 Mexicans without winking when they stood with unsheathed knives be 
 side their faithful animals, they found that their bursting hearts had un 
 nerved their arms. Many turned from the effort and wept, while others, 
 as much affected, performed the bloody deed in conscientious duty to their 
 families, their country and liberty. The lamentable groans of the poo* 
 horses, as the keen steel \vould press to the heart s core, were distressingly 
 painful to hear. Some, in the agonies of death, would squeal and flounder, 
 while others would seem to look upon their masters in deep sorrow, and 
 press against the fatal blade. This never to be forgotten scene was the work 
 of a portion of this day, as some built scaffolds with fire underneath to dry 
 the meat, while others butchered, and some went with gourds still deeper 
 into the ravine for water. At three o clock p. M., the water was so nearly 
 exhausted that the men could not fill their gourds, when the march was re 
 commenced. At ten o clock p. M., they encamped in a deep ravine without 
 water." 
 
 They continued on for two or three days in a northerly course, suffering 
 terribly for want of water, until the 17th, when, being unable to travel any 
 farther, they halted in a deep valley. The sun was pouring down upon 
 them with intense power. To screen themselves from its blistering rays, 
 they scattered themselves over the spot, spread their blankets upon thorn- 
 bushes, and got underneath them. Water ! water ! was the all-pervading 
 cry. In the delirium of consuming fires they sought 
 "The roughest berry on the rudest hedge." 
 
392 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Some were chewing and eating negro-head and prickly-pear leaves, 
 produce moisture in their mouths, but these astringents greatly aggravated 
 their sufferings ; while others, with tongues so parched and swollen that 
 they could not close their mouths, were scratching in the shade of bushes 
 for cool earth to apply to their throats and stomachs ; yet, even yet, their 
 sufferings were to be increased. Wild delirium seized upon those who had 
 most freely used the astringent plants, and in their last agony they had re 
 course to their own urinary secretion. This was drinking living fire ! and 
 this they knew, for many were men of education ; but still they drank and 
 drank ! Several expired, and all prayed for death to relieve them. The 
 phosphate of lime contained in this liquid produces a consuming agony far 
 worse than death without it. 
 
 In the meantime, so slow had become their progress, that the Mexicans 
 had time to rally and gather a large force to intercept them. That evening 
 the fires of the Mexican cavalry camp were discovered in advance, illumin 
 ating the heavens. When the day dawned, the Texans were scattered, ex 
 hausted, and having thrown away their arms from mere inabilit} 7 to carry 
 them, they had no other resource but to surrender to a force which, had 
 they kept the original road, they could easily have beaten. 
 
 Now began the return march to Solado. Their captors tied them in 
 pairs with cords of rawhide. These were exchanged at San Antonio for 
 handcuffs. Notwithstanding this precaution, the Mexicans showed great 
 apprehension lest another charge would be made upon them, for they would 
 not allow the Texans to stand up in camp. Under all these cruelties, tho 
 men bore up with astonishing fortitude. They received their irons with 
 smiles, promised a fair remuneration the first opportunity, and concluded 
 the evening s entertainment by telling old tales and singing, to the utter 
 astonishment of their captors. 
 
 On the 25th of March, they arrived at Solado, when the melancholy in 
 telligence was received that they were to be decimated, and each tenth man 
 shot. Full particulars of the bloody drama which ensued are thus given 
 by Green : * It was now too late to resist this horrible order. The men 
 were closely ironed and drawn up in front of all their guards, with arms in 
 readiness to fire. Could they have known it previously, they would have 
 again charged their guards, and made them dearly pay for this last perfidi 
 ous breach of national faith. It was now too late ! A manly gloom and a 
 proud defiance pervaded all countenances. They had but one alternative, 
 and that was to invoke their country s vengeance upon their murderers, 
 consign their souls to God, and die like men. 
 
 The decimator, Colonel Domingo Huerta, who was especially nominated 
 to this black deed, had arrived at Solado ahead of the men. The Red- 
 Cap company were to be their executioners those men whose lives had 
 been so humanely spared by the Texans at this place on the llth of Feb 
 ruary. The decimation took place by the drawing of black and white beans 
 from a small earthen mug. The white cnes signified exemption, and the 
 black death. One hundred and fifty-nine white beans were placed in tho 
 bottom of the mug, and seventeen black ones were placed upon the top of 
 them. The beans were not stirred, and had so slight a shake that it was 
 perfectly clear they had not been mixed together. Such was their anxiety 
 
OF AMERICANS. 393 
 
 to execute Captain Cameron, and perhaps the balance of the officers, that 
 first Cameron, and afterward they, were made to draw a bean each, from the 
 mug in this condition. 
 
 As the gallant Cameron stepped up, he said, with his usual coolness : 
 Well, boys, we have to draw; let s be at it!" So saying, he thrust his 
 hand into the mug, and drew out a white bean. Next came Colonel Wm. 
 F. Wilson, who was chained to him ; then Captain Wm. Ryan, and then 
 Judge F. M. Gibbon, all of whom drew white beans. Next came Captain 
 Eastland, whc drew the first black one, and then followed the balance of 
 the men. They all drew their beans with that manly dignity and firmness 
 which showed them superior to their condition. Some of lighter temper 
 jested over the bloody tragedy. One would say, Boys, this beats raffling 
 all to pieces \ another, This is the tallest gambling scrape I ever was in ! 
 and such like remarks. None showed change of countenance ; and as the 
 black beans failed to depress, so did the white fail to elate. The knocking 
 off the irons from the unfortunate alone told who they were. Poor Robert 
 Beard, tying upon the ground near by exceedingly ill, and nearly exhausted 
 from his forced marches and sufferings, called his brother William, who was 
 bringing him a cup of water, and said, Brother, if you draw a black bean, 
 I ll take your place ; I want to die. The brother, with overwhelming an 
 guish, replied, No, I will keep my own place ; I am stronger and better 
 able to die than you. These noble youths drew clear, but both soon after 
 died, leaving this last Roman legacy to their venerable parents in Texas. 
 Several of the Mexican officers who officiated in this cruel violation of 
 their country s faith, expressed great dissatisfaction thereat, and some wept 
 bitterly. Soon after, the fated were placed in a separate courtyard, where, 
 about dark, they were executed. 
 
 Several of the men were permitted to visit the unfortunate previously to 
 the execution, to receive their dying requests. Poor Major Cocke, when he 
 first drew the fatal bean, held it up between his fore-finger and thumb, and 
 with a smile of contempt, said, Boys, I told you so ; I never failed in my 
 life to draw a prize V and then he said to Judge Gibson, Well, Judge, say 
 to my friends that I died in grace ! The judge, much affected at this last 
 sad parting, showed it from his tears. The major replied, They only rob 
 me of forty years, and then sat down and wrote a sensible and dignified 
 letter of remonstrance to General Waddy Thompson, the United States Min 
 ister in Mexico ; and, knowing that his remains would be robbed of his 
 clothes after his death, drew off his pantaloons, handed them to his surviv 
 ing comrades, and died in his under-clothes. 
 
 Poor Henry Whaling, a native of Indiana, and one of Cameron s best 
 fighters, as he drew his black bean, said, with as bright a look as ever lighted 
 man s countenance, Well, they don t make much off me, any how; for I 
 know I have killed twenty-five of the yellow-bellies; then demanding his 
 dinner, in a firm tone, he continued, They shall not cheat me out of it, 
 and ate heartily, smoked a cigar, and in twenty minutes after was launched 
 into eternity ! The Mexicans said that this man had the biggest heart of 
 any they ever saw. They shot him fifteen times before he expired. 
 
 Poor Tor:ey, quite a youth, but in spirit a giant, said that he was per 
 fectly willing to meet his fate : that for the glory of his countrv he fought^ 
 
394: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and for her glory he was willing to die ; and, turning to the officer, said : 
 After the battle of San Jacinto, my family took one of your prisoner 
 youths, raised and educated him, and this is our requital. 
 
 Edward Este spoke of his fate with the coolest indifference, and said that 
 he would rather be shot than dragged along in this manner. 
 
 Cash said, Well, they murdered my brother with Colonel Fannin, and 
 they are about to murder me. 
 
 J. L. Jones said to the interpreter, Tell the officer to look upon men who 
 are not afraid to die for their country. 
 
 Captain Eastland behaved with the most patriotic dignity; he desired that 
 his county should not particularly avenge his death, but for her own honor 
 he implored her never to lay down her arms until the most ample repara 
 tion and her unconditional freedom should be secured. He said, I know 
 that some have thought me timid, but, thank God, death has no terrors for 
 me. 
 
 Major Robert Dunham said he was prepared to die, and would to God 
 that he had a chance to do the same thing over again ; that he gloried in 
 the demonstration they had made, which showed Texans without arms to 
 be more than equal to Mexicans with them. 
 
 James Ogden, with his usual equanimity of temper, smiled at his fate, 
 and said, I am prepared. 
 
 Young Robert W. Harris behaved in the most unflinching manner, and 
 called upon his companions to avenge the murder, while their flowing tears 
 and bursting hearts, invoking heaven for their witness, responded nobly to 
 the call. 
 
 They one and all invoked their country to do both them and herself jus 
 tice. Captain Cameron, in taking leave of these brave men, and particularly 
 of Turubull, a brother Scotchman, with whom he had been in many dan 
 gers, wept bitterly, and implored the officers to execute him and spare hig 
 men. 
 
 Just previous to the firing they were bound together with cords, and their 
 eyes being bandaged, they were set upon a log near the wall, with their 
 backs to their executioners. They all begged the officer to shoot them in 
 front, and at a short distance ; that they were not afraid to look death 
 in the face. This he refused, and, to make his cruelty as refined as possi 
 ble, fired at several paces, and continued the firing from ten to twelve min 
 utes, lacerating arid mangling these heroes in a manner too horrible for de 
 scription. 
 
 The interpreter, who was permitted to remain with them to the last, says 
 that fifteen times they wounded that iroVnerved soul, Henry Whaling; 
 and it would seem that Providence had a special care in prolonging his ex 
 istence, that he might demonstrate to his enemies the national character 
 they had to contend with ; for he gritted his teeth at and defied them in 
 terms of withering reproach, until they placed a gun to his head and blew 
 his brains against the wall. Such was the effect of this horrible massacre 
 upon their own soldiers, who were stationed as a guard upon the wall above, 
 that one of them fainted, and came near falling over, but was caught by his 
 comrades. During the martyrdom of these noble patriots, the main body of 
 the men were separated from them by a stone wall of some fifteen feet in 
 
OF AMERICANS. 395 
 
 height, and heard their last agonized groans with feelings of which it would 
 be mockery to attempt the description." 
 
 After this horrible tragedy, the main body of the Texans were marched 
 on the road to the City of Mexico, a distance of five hundred miles. Their 
 sufferings were dreadful. Many died on the journey ; others, too worn 
 down to travel, were left in hospitals on the route, from which miserable 
 sinks few ever returned. Among the incidents of their journey, the follow 
 ing is given by Green : 
 
 "After thirty days march, they arrived at the village of Huehuetoca, 
 seven leagues from the City of Mexico, where they were all crowded to 
 gether in a room too small to admit of their lying down, and into which not 
 a breath of air could enter when the door was closed. In a very little time 
 the air became so impure, from the exhaustion of the oxygen, that the 
 candles went out, and respiration became exceedingly difficult. The men 
 in vain appealed to the guards at the door to let in fresh air, and when 
 death the most cruel stared them wholesale in the face, as a last alternative, 
 they had recourse to cutting holes in the door with their pocket-knives, 
 and alternately breathing at these small orifices. 
 
 This was, indeed, as the Mexican soldiers called it, la noclie triste, the 
 sad night. Their march of many leagues the day before, through an in 
 sufferable dust, a burning sun, the want of food and water, and then at 
 night not even space sufficient of the stone floor to lie upon, and a suffocat 
 ing atmosphere to breathe, was not their full measure of woe. About eight 
 o clock at night, a menial murderer, with a pair of epaulettes upon his 
 shjulders, and a guard of about a dozen men, under broad-brimmed hats, 
 arrived with orders from the tyrant, Santa Anna, to shoot their leader, the 
 bold and beloved Captain Ewin Cameron. 
 
 The next morning, after the men were marched for the City of Mexico, 
 he was taken out in the rear of the village to the place of execution. A 
 priest, the usual attendant of Mexican executions, was in waiting, and when 
 Cameron was asked if he wished to confess to the father, he promptly an 
 swered, No! throughout life I believe that I havo lived an upright man, 
 and if I have to confess, it shall- be to my Maker. His arms were th^n 
 tied with a cord at the elbows and drawn back, and when the guard a 
 vanced to bandage his eyes, he said to his interpreter : Tell them, No ! 
 Ewin Cameron can now, as he has often before done for the liberty of 
 Texas, look death in the face without winking ! So saying, he threw his 
 hat and blanket upon the ground, opened the bosom of his hunting-shirt, 
 presented his naked breast, and gave the fatal command Fire ! " 
 
 Arrived in the City of Mexico, the major part of the Texans were placed 
 at most disgusting employments. Some were driven forth into the streets 
 with sticks and bayonets by brutal overseers, as scavengers of filth too hor 
 rible to contemplate. Others, heavily ironed, were placed at work upon the 
 pavement in front of the archbishop s palace. Disease and death rapidly 
 thinned their numbers. The survivors, naked and emaciated, were eventu 
 ally consigned to the dungeons of Perote and San Juan d Ulloa. Few of 
 them escaped, many died, and the remainder were liberated in the laiter 
 part of the year 1844, through the intervention of Governor Shannon, th 
 then United States Minister in Mexico. 
 
;;; ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 A; - :.- ..--: -;.-:. - : - - : - - : ; -.:---,; -.-; ..^ 
 
 got muiy started on their journey on the morning of the rising of the pris- 
 Salado. They however were fully apprised of the event by the 
 of the musketry, and soon had the plea i am of seeing the Mexi- 
 cavahy and inmetry scampering in every direction, hither and thither, 
 of dus* behind them. Then, after a little pause, borne anon 
 the still memiiig air, came loud shouts of victory from the Texans. 
 
 At this tune." 9 says Green, "a lieutenant came np at full speed, with 
 
 to 
 
 This 
 
 to I* me; m::h coolness arc 
 our part. Colonel Fbher and myself asked him, if he was most bound to 
 obey the orders of Governor Ortega, to take us to Mexico, or any subse 
 quent order of Colonel Bamganr and that we expected we were in the 
 hands of a 4,1 nlli mia and uaidier, not a murderer.* His eyes were instantly 
 aiul to the pommel of his saddle, and his countenance underwent hesi 
 tation, rhmgr ami atJifaHiou in as many seconds, when he raised himself 
 in his stirrups, and, proudly dapping his hand upon his bosom, ordered the 
 iatapieiu tosay tothegcnriiwti. *tlialU>eTg^ 
 
 and a arfrVr, and that /will carry out Governor Ortega s orders. Thus 
 
 d toward Mexico, and we were forced 
 
 : : :; . ; - - :-- i f..:i i.i: : 
 
 By very rapid tnvefin^ the prisoners reached San Lais Potasi on the 
 23d, where their number -was agmuted by sixteen of their companions, 
 who, having n miini il behind at Salado, wexe again taken into captivity. 
 
 In theEr janrney through the country, they were subjected to more or 
 less of brctality from their guards and from the people. "The only ctm- 
 jnmitm we met," says Green, "was in the cunnteuaucei of the females. In 
 my intercome with the worid, I hare had frequent occasion to observe that 
 !! were better than men ; in Mexico this observation is forced upon 
 
 r - -" - - . 
 
 ^ - - - . :, :-- : :: :-= i :i :le : - " - - : T : - 
 
 "a Mexican officer asked us where our musicians were? We an- 
 
 * We are all musicians in Texas. Upon what instrument do yon 
 
 * Upon the rifle, we arnueud^when suddenly the mosdes of 
 ould elongate fine* the pleasant to the most inexpressible blank. 
 
 OB this and similar occasions, when we would quiz themend we let no op 
 portunity pas for so doing chey would always come to the conclusion that 
 
 :* been said that a Texan is born with a rifle in his hand, and with 
 equal truth it may be said, that the Mexican is born with a rope in hi*, 
 for at every Mexican afttlpuwni we noticed the children, from knee high 
 and upward, with little ropes, catching the ducks and chickens. It ap 
 peared to be their only amusement ; and they would throw them with re 
 markable certainty. Tne old roosters and drakes, that had been often takes, 
 JB this manner, ieemed to know how use-lew it was to attempt escape, and 
 onVI squat to receive the rope when they saw it coming. In Mexico, the 
 
OF AMERICA I 
 
 lasso is used for catching every animal, from a wild bull to the 
 hill fowl ; nor is its use unknown in recruiting their caunuYxrv for the 
 army. Our comrades used to say, that these blanketed, pepper-eating fel 
 low* would not believe a thing was caught unless it was done with a 
 In about a month s continuous traveling, the party reached the 
 Castle of Perote, the place of their destii 
 
 miles east of the City of Mexico, on the road to Vera Crux. They 
 in by a winding entrance, crossed a drawbridge over the great moat, and 
 passed through an archway into a large plaza in front of the prisouenf quar 
 ters. The bugle s Wast, the roll of drums, and the din of anus and the 
 clank of chains, which then saluted their ears, opened their eyes to the 
 reality of imprisonment. There they met> in rag* and chains, fifty of their 
 coum rymen, who had been kidnapped front their homes in Bexar, Texas. 
 early in the preceding autumn. 
 
 The Castle of Perote is celebrated in Mexican history. It is built in an 
 elevated valley between mountains in the vicinity of the lofty Orazabo, with 
 its beautiful conical peak rising to the heavens and crowned with perpetual 
 snow. Although one hundred miles from the coast, it is seen from vessels 
 far out at sea, long before the intervening low-lands rise in view. The 
 nearness of the castle to the snow-covered mountains, its altitude, and ill 
 ehadei position such that the sun s rays reach it but for a few boors in the 
 day, renders it an extremely cold place. It is quadrangular in fen, and 
 occupies about rwenty-sx acres of ground. It is built principally of vol 
 canic stone. The main wall is sixty feet in height. Within it is a ditch 
 or moat some twenty feet in depth and two hundred feet in width. Inside 
 of the moat are the main buildings, containing soldiers barracks, work 
 shops, stables, cells for the prisoners, etc. The center is a paved courtyard 
 or plaza, five hundred feet square, used as a military parade-ground. The 
 walls are defended by eighty pieces of artillery. The whole works were 
 the labor of many years, and cost several millions of dollars; and but for 
 the late improvements in the art of war it would be impregnable. Such is 
 the great prison-house of Mexico, in which many a Texan, after dwindling 
 out a miserable existence in chains and slavery, in rags and hunger, has at 
 last perished, far from home and friends. 
 
 Before the prisoners jrere ironed, they had the privilege of walking about 
 certain parts of the castle for three days. The time was well spent in ex 
 amining the place, estimating its strength, etc. Near the cells occupied by 
 the Bexar men were the rooms of the Mexican chain-gang, convicts guilty 
 of every species of crime, and almost without an exception sunk to the very 
 lowest depths of human degradation. One of these fellows boasted that 
 "it was the fourth time he had been imprisoned for rape, and it would ROC 
 be the last ; another, clapping his hand upon his breast, in the proudest 
 tone, said, "I am no ladnme (thief); I am placed here for murder! In 
 Mexico, murder is considered more honorable than theft, though the ma 
 jority would steal the value of a pin. The moat genteel man among these 
 convicts was in for killing a priest, who was caught kissing his wise, fie 
 had been in good circumstances, but in killing a priest, such was the influ 
 ence of the church, that all his money could not save him. His wife fol 
 lowed him to prison, with a devotion not 
 
398 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Mexico. He was a tall, graceful man, about thirty-five years of age, and 
 his keen black eye and Roman nose bespoke a temper fierce as a lion ; not 
 did they belie him. His first act in chains was to beat one of the turnkeys 
 severely for treating him as if he were merely a common prisoner. 
 
 " Jn the next room," says Green, "and to the right of our Bexar prison 
 ers, myself and fifteen companions of the Mier men were lodged. At six 
 o clock in the evening, all the prisoners were counted and turned into their 
 respective cells, where they remained until six the next morning, when the 
 doo rs were again opened. At nine o clock, we were, as usual, counted, and 
 turned over to the officer of the new guard ; at which time our men were 
 made first to take the filth out of the castle in handbarrows, and after that 
 to pack in stone and sand to repair the fortification. The stone they had to 
 pack from over a mile and a half from the mountain ; the sand a shorter 
 distance. In the performance of this labor, our men, being chained in 
 pairs by the ankle with large log-chains, and only about four feet between 
 them, had to walk very close together, and on each hand was a file of 
 guards with fixed bayonets to keep them in order. 
 
 At nine o clock of the fourth day after our incarceration, the Mier men 
 were ordered to stand aside to receive their chains, a full tun of which had 
 been brought out and laid in a heap, with a corresponding quantity of cum 
 brous, rudely-made clevises to fit around the ankles. Here stood the fat 
 old officer in charge, a Captain Gozeman, who, from the immense protuber 
 ance of his abdominal region, our boys dubbed Old Guts. This genius 
 was exceedingly civil at times. He desired Colonel Fisher and myself to 
 make choice of our chain ; but, if fact, there was no choice between them, 
 the lightest weighing about twenty pounds and, even if there had been 
 any difference, neither of us was in a temper to make the choice. I felt 
 that placing those irons upon me would make Mexico greatly my debtor, 
 which some day I would cancel with most usurious interest. We held out 
 each a foot, the one a right and the other a left, and the son of Vulcan riv 
 eted us together, as though we had been a pair of unbroken oxen just being 
 introduced to the yoke. It is the habit of soldiers, in walking together, to 
 step at the same time with their right feet, and then with their left; but 
 these chains subverted this well-established and strictly-observed custom, 
 as, one being chained by the right and the other by the left ankle, those 
 even and odd had to move together, or they would pay the penalty by a 
 severe jerk. Colonel Fisher and myself being first ironed, we laughed at 
 the jewelry, as the boys called the -chains, but it was the laugh of a con 
 suming vengeance. "We started to our cells, and upon reaching our apart 
 ment, we looked out for the means of breaking so large a chain. Texans 
 are a most ingenious people, and are usually equal to the emergency. We 
 soon found means to accomplish our purpose. 
 
 Our companions, in turn, were all ironed, and many were the devices they 
 resorted to in order to free themselves from their chains when not in the 
 presence of the officers. In that horribly cold place, sleeping upon the cold 
 pavement, and with the still colder iron for your bedfellow, is no very en 
 viable situation. Some would bribe the blacksmith to make them leaden 
 instead of iron rivets, which, when blackened with charcoal, had much tho 
 appearance of iron, while they could be easily taken out and re headed 
 
OF AMERICANS. 399 
 
 One medio would buy a leaden rivet; and for some time this ruse\vas prac 
 ticed. Frequently, however, when the officers would enter our cells, they 
 would find our comrades without chains, and as suddenly every fellow 
 would jump to his jewelry, and clamp it on with a magic celerity, which 
 entirely bewildered the senses of the officers, and then as suddenly put on 
 a demure, inoffensive countenance, after the manner of school-boys cutting 
 up their juvenile antics upon the sudden appearance of the pedagogue. 
 Our old friend with the large corporation, after much fretting about our not 
 wearing the jewelry, told the governor that it would take as many black 
 smiths to keep us ironed as there were Texans in the castle. " 
 
 Fisher and Green being officers were excused from labor. The time, 
 however, passed heavily, and the coldness of their quarters and the want of 
 proper food so affected their health, that the surgeon ordered their irons to 
 be taken off, when they had full liberty to walk about the castle uncon 
 trolled. The anniversary of the battle of San Jacinto approaching, the 
 prisoners made preparations to celebrate the event. They purchased a few 
 gallons of vino mascal, a quantity of ass s milk, and several dozens of eggs, 
 and such egg-nogg was compounded "as never before was seen or drank 
 under the nineteenth degree of north latitude. We went around to the 
 prison rooms, and summoned all hands to attend the thanksgiving. When 
 these noble fellows stood round the bowl in rags, with their jewelry riv 
 eted upon their ankles, brought up and tied around the waist with a cord 
 hanging in a graceful festoon between each pair, the sight filled my heart to 
 overflowing. Though the body was oppressed, they looked like caged 
 lions, and every face bespoke the invincible spirit of a freeman." 
 
 Various toasts were drank amid cheers and songs. Daniel Drake Henrie 
 gave his best ditties with unusual eloquence " Long, long Ago," " The Sol 
 dier s Tear," etc. "Thus," continues Green, "we were getting along swim 
 mingly, when our liberty-shouts rose high above the walls of the prison, 
 and alarmed our keepers. They supposed that we intended to swallow 
 them and take the castle. When our fat captain came round with the guard 
 to know the cause of the riot, we told him it was a mode we had in our 
 country of celebrating our saints days, and hoped he would not disturb us 
 in our worship, as we did not disturb him in his. He replied, BUCKO, 
 senorj Very well, sir, and started, when we gave the wink to Trimble. 
 Upon this, Trimble squared himself, rolled his eyes over in their sockets, 
 twisted his head clean round on his shoulders, and gave a whoop that beat 
 the best of owls." 
 
 The prisoners were very much troubled with vermin. The first business 
 of the morning was louse-hunting. Usually several dozen of these dis 
 gusting vermin were discovered upon each of the men. At times, when 
 one of these animals showed himself particularly fleet on foot, he was cap 
 tured and saved for the races for the Texans soon fell into the customs of 
 the place. Says Green: "This very delicate pursuit of louse-racing has 
 V>ng been known in Mexican prisons as one of the very few amusements of 
 those dull regions. The races come off in the following manner : The 
 Mexican prisoners draw a circle upon a beef s hide about eighteen inches in 
 diameter, inside of which they draw a smaller one, and in the center of this 
 they make a holy cross even to this vile purpose is that emblem of purity 
 
400 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 prostituted ! The racers are placed on the outside of the inner ring, and 
 the one that first crosses the double ring, and arrives at the holy goal, wins 
 the stakes. We have witnessed the most ludicrous scenes around these 
 pools. 
 
 As the tiny animals start, their owners become as much excited, doubt 
 less, as those of Fashion and Boston at their great race. They jump and 
 climb over each other to get a better view : it is, Hurra for the white, and 
 Well done for the red, and many such expressions, accompanied with the 
 most antic capers, each countenance being expressive of different degrees of 
 hope and despair, according to the locality of their respective coursers. 
 On these funny occasions, we have stood off to watch the countenances of 
 the parties interested, and have witnessed grimaces which would have 
 shaken the pencil from the hand of Hogarth. The only thing comparable 
 to it are the negroes around a cock -pit, on a Whitsuntide in North Carolina 
 or Virginia, a festival of ancient fashion in those good old States, where the 
 negroes are as free of constraint as were the slaves of Rome on their 
 Saturnalia. 
 
 The Texan prisoners thus simplified this mode of racing : they drew a 
 charcoal circle upon a plank, in the center of which the racers were turned 
 loose, at a given signal, and the one that first crosses the black ring is the 
 winner. " 
 
 Green, growing wearied with confinement, and fully imbued with the 
 great American desire, i. e.., to improve his condition, determined to escape or 
 perish in the attempt. The project required caution, coolness, and calcula 
 tion. He made known his determination to Captain Reese, who agreed to 
 join him in the enterprise. Their first plan was to escape by scaling the 
 walls, and they had all their arrangements perfected to that end, when they 
 learned that in one of the prison rooms which contained ttiirty-six of their 
 countrymen, a few lion-hearted fellows had determined also to make the 
 attempt. They had commenced the operation of going through an eight 
 feet wall ; Green and Reese thought it best to join them, and all escape to 
 gether. Green says : 
 
 " Our arched cells were twenty feet wide by seventy long, with a door at 
 one end opening in the castle, and a loophole at the other opening upon 
 the outside, underneath which is the great moat. This loophole is a small 
 aperture, upon the outside about four by twelve inches, and gradually 
 widening through the eight feet wall upon the inside to about two feet. 
 Could we have jfursued this aperture by widening it, our labor would have 
 been less ; but soon we found, from the hard character of the stones, and 
 the secure fastenings immediately around the hole, difficulties which, with 
 our poor means of operating, were impossible to surmount. We conse 
 quently struck off to the left, leaving these difficulties entirely to our right, 
 and prepared to bore through the solid masonry. 
 
 To avoid discovery, both from the sentinel at the door and the officers 
 when they came in the room upon inspection, a careless rap upon the door 
 or post by our lookout man, was sufficient for our operator in the hole to lie 
 low. These men engaged in the work alternately, as only one at a time 
 could operate, and he was secreted by the shutter inclosing the loophole, 
 and blankets carefully hung about it. The labor was extremely tiresome* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 401 
 
 as the hole had to be made horizontally through the wall, and consequently 
 required the operator to lay upon his abdomen, and rest upon his elbows, 
 which position, after a few hours, became very painful. After making his 
 tour, he would gather up the fragments of stone and mortar which his labor 
 had detached, and bury them under some loose stone and brick in the floor. 
 As the quantity thus buried would raise the pavement too high, it would be 
 taken out under our blankets, and emptied into the co^fiun privy. 
 
 The tools with which we operated were narrow, inferior carpenter s chis 
 els the Mexican tools were generally of an inferior kind, which our car 
 penters would bring from the shop. As a water-drip will wear away the 
 hardest granite, so the breach in the wall, in the course of a few weeks, 
 gradually grew deeper under our incessant labor. This work was princi 
 pally accomplished by drilling holes into the stone and mortar with a chisel 
 and prying off small pieces ; and frequently, after a day s hard labor, not 
 more than a hatful could be disengaged. The greatest difficulty, however, 
 was, that as the hole grew deeper, it grew smaller, and the position of the 
 operator rendered it next to impossible to avoid this difficulty ; so that when 
 the hole reached the outside of the wall, it had a funnel shape, the outer 
 end being reduced to teri by fourteen inches. On the first day of July, the 
 hole had been drilled down to a thin shell on the outer side, which could 
 be easily burst out, after the final preparation was made for leaving. 
 
 For some weeks previous to our escape, those who intended to go were 
 busily engaged, every safe opportunity, in completing their arrangements 
 fixing their knapsacks, saving all the bread they could procure, laying aside 
 every cent to purchase fat bacon and chocolate. We considered it impru 
 dent to start with less than two weeks rations each, as we calculated to be 
 all of that time in the mountains before venturing into a settlement to re 
 plenish our stores. 
 
 It was considered the safest plan, after getting out of the castle, to pair 
 off, and not more than two or three go together, as, the smaller the com 
 pany, the more easily they could secrete themselves, the whole not being 
 sufficent to carry on either offensive or defensive operations to advantage. 
 Under this arrangement, I had selected Dan. Drake Henrie, mainly on ac 
 count of his speaking the language of the country. 
 
 Several, who had previously determined to come, from prudential mo 
 tives, now declined it, as they considered, and very rghtly, that getting 
 through the walls of the prison was the least difficult part of the undertak 
 ing. To escape several hundred miles through an enemy s country, speak 
 ing an unknown tongue, was a difficulty which could not be too cautiously 
 weighed. If retaken, all calculated to be shot ; and we farther calculated 
 the chances of success greatly against reaching our country in safety. 
 
 Knowing President Santa Anna s personal hostility to myself, and believ 
 ing that all he wanted was. some reasonable pretext for having me shot, I 
 believed it was worth my life to be recaptured, and the chances of escaping 
 were ten to one against me. Sixteen of our number finally determined to 
 make the effort. 
 
 I left a note upon my table for President Santa Anna, in which I stated, 
 that, not having been trusted upon my parole, which neither the love of life 
 nor fear of death could have induced me to forfeit, and the climate of Perote 
 
402 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 not suiting my health, I should, for the present, retire to one in Texas more 
 congenial to my feelings. 
 
 At half past five o clock, I took leave of my friends, and a sad parting it 
 was. Most of those who remained, believed it was a voluntary sacrifice ol 
 ourselves, and few believed it possible for us to escape. I never shall for 
 get that hour. As we grasped each other s hands, many believing it for the 
 last time, the big tear filled the eyes of those brave men, and they wished 
 me success with an utterance which showed their hearts were overflowing. 
 
 At six o clock, we heard the turnkey, with his ugly load of securities 
 clanking their dull music to the blast of many bugles in the great plaza. It 
 was a moment of intense excitement, as a discovery of one man out of his 
 place would blowup the whole plot. At seven o clock, we commenced our 
 final preparations before emerging from the room. This was to remove the 
 shell of the wall yet upon the outside, then to make one end of the rope 
 fast inside of the room, and pass it through, by which we would have to let 
 ourselves down to the bottom of the moat. When this was done, it was 
 found that the breach was too small upon the outside to admit of any but 
 the smallest of our men passing through it ; and it required two hours 
 hard work to scale some pieces of stone and mortar from one side of it, so 
 as to permit the larger ones to pass. This required until nine o clock. 
 
 All things being now ready, John Too wig first got into the breach, and, 
 feet foremost, drawing his bundle after him, inch by inch, squeezed out, 
 and let himself down, hand over hand, about thirty feet, to the bottom of 
 the moat. The depth and smallness of the hole rendered this operation 
 exceeding slow. Another and another followed, and at half past twelve, 
 after three and a half hours hard labor, all of the sixteen had safely landed. 
 
 I found much difficulty in passing through, though I was now reduced 
 from one hundred and sixty pounds, my usual weight, to one hundred and 
 twenty. The gradual funnel shape of the breach made it like driving a 
 pin into an augur-hole, for the deeper we went, the closer the fit. The 
 smallest of us having gone through first, for fear that the largest might 
 hang in the hole and stop it up, it now came to Stone s turn, who was a 
 lirge man. He hung fast, and could neither get backward nor forward. In 
 this situation, being wedged in as fast as his giant strength could force him, 
 our friends on the inside of the room, who had been assisting us, had to 
 tie ropes to his hands, and draw him back. This operation was very like 
 drawing his arms out of his body, but did not satisfy him. I have a \ufe 
 and children at home, said he, and I would rather die than stay hero any 
 longer: I will go through, or leave no skin on my bones. So saying, he 
 disrobed himself: his great exertion, causing him to perspire freely, an 
 swered nearly as well for the second effort as if he had been greased, and 
 he went through after the most powerful labor, leaving both skin and flesh 
 behind. 
 
 John Young, if anything, was a larger man than Stone, but was much 
 his junior in years ; he was as supple as a snake, and no Roman gladiator 
 ever exhibited more perfectly-formed muscles; nor was his determined tem 
 per in bad keeping with his physical conformation. He was the last who 
 came out; and while the balance of us sat under the side of the wall, we 
 feared that it would be impossible for him to get through. Presently, with 
 
OF AMERICANS. 403 
 
 the aid of a dim sky above us, we saw his feet slowly protruding, then his 
 knees, and when he came to his hip-joints, here for many minutes he hung 
 fast. When this part of his body was cleared, the angular use of his Knees 
 gave him additional purchase to work by; but still our boys said, Poor 
 fellow ! it will be hardly possible for him to get his muscular arms and 
 shoulders through. We sat under him in an agony of feeling not to be 
 described, while he ceased not his efforts. His body was now cleared to his 
 shoulders, but still he hung fast. Having the full purchase of his legs, he 
 would writhe, first up and down, and then from side to side, with herculean 
 strength ; and when he disengaged himself, if it was not like the drawing 
 of a cork from a porter-bottle, it was with the low, sullen, determined growl 
 of a lion." 
 
 As the castle bell tolled half past twelve, the whole party were in the 
 open common outside of the castle. Here they divided into pairs, and 
 after shaking hands and wishing each other good luck, they separated, each 
 pair endeavoring to make the best way it could to the country a thousand 
 miles distant on the other side of the Eio Grande. 
 
 Colonel Green and "Dan" (Dan. Drake Henrie) started in the direction 
 of Vera Cruz, following on the main road. In about an hour they were 
 overtaken by Reese and Toowig, and the four kept on in company. Near 
 daylight, they left the road, and for safety turned off to the right and made 
 for the mountains. In a short time they had ascended so far. as to leave all 
 tho settlements far below. At daybreak, they selected a dark cove and 
 laid down to rest. Just before sundown, they started again and traveled all 
 night, and the next morning again stopped to rest through the day. This 
 course was followed for several days. 
 
 With the assistance of a map and pocket compass, they ascertained their 
 general course, but the almost bottomless ravines and inaccessible moun 
 tains succeeded so rapidly that their progress was slow and fatiguing beyond, 
 all expression. It was in the midst of the rainy season, and they were wet 
 continually, which, in the lofty altitude they were traveling, occasioned in 
 tense suffering from the cold. The rain, too, made the sides of the moun 
 tains almost as slippery as soap. Weak from their long confinement in 
 prison, and sore and stiff from cold and rains, they frequently slipped and 
 fell with great violence. One dark night, they had a most narrow escape, 
 which Green thus details : 
 
 "Our course was over an excessively broken country, alternate mountains 
 and valleys of exceeding height and fearful depth. Briers, thornbushes, 
 and sharp stones impeded our progress, and made the labor of the foremost 
 much the most difficult. Accordingly, we alternately took the lead. When 
 it came to my turn to lead, we fell into a path comparatively level, which 
 we pursued several hundred yards, carefully keeping the end of my walk 
 ing-stick always ahead of me about two feet, feeling the way. At length I 
 felt no bottom, and from habit stopped as quick as thought, not making an 
 other step, at the same time speaking to my companions behind to halt. 
 Stooping down where I stood, with my walking-cane I reached as far as my 
 arm would allow, but still I found no bottom ; and, after laying down and 
 straining our eyes, we discovered the appearance of tree-tops far below us. 
 Changing our course, we felt our way down a steep descent of at least one 
 26 
 
4:04: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 mile to a valley, the creek through which washed the base of the danger 
 ous precipice we had just escaped. How inscrutable are the ways of Prov 
 ider je I One step more, myself, then Reese, and then Dan would have 
 fallsn a thousand feet ! for no alarm from the foremost would have reached 
 the next leaving no one on earth a knowledge of our destiny !" 
 
 When they looked back upon their narrow escape, they likened it to 
 the "Valley of Death." Daylight found them again, as usual, lying under 
 their wet blankets in some thick bushes. From the distance and general 
 course traveled, they believed themselves not far from the City of Jalapa, 
 The next night they heard the ringing of the city bells. Having understood 
 that the city lay in a valley between two mountains, which were then 
 plainly discernible in the light moonlight, they understood for the first 
 time their precise locality. 
 
 At first they thought to avoid the city by leaving it to the right ; but the 
 more they tried to avoid it, the thicker seemed the settlements so they 
 concluded to enter the town and play their game boldly. By Indian file 
 they passed up one street and down another, under their broad-brimmed 
 ranchero hats, their shoulders covered by their blankets. To the frequent 
 "quien viva" of the sentinels they made no reply, but continued silently 
 on. The town was swarming with dogs, which, as if knowing they were 
 strangers, kept up a continual barking as they moved on. At daylight they 
 secreted themselves on an insulated conical mound of several hundred feet 
 in height in the outskirts of the city, where they remained all day hid in 
 the weeds. At dusk, they again went into the town and took up their 
 
 quarters with an old and faithfully tested Mexican, Don . As they 
 
 -entered his house, they found his good senora preparing a warm supper, 
 "with, a most delightful toddy mixed." Our narrator continues : 
 
 "Here we remained five days, and were treated with a kindness by these 
 good people we never shall forget. Mexican women are kind-hearted to a 
 degree, which makes their goodness contrast singularly with the vices of 
 the men. Our feet and legs were bathed and poulticed ; and we sent out 
 and purchased good shoes, and all the. paraphernalia of the mountain ran- 
 diero, preparatory to our farther journey. At ten o clock of the sixth night, 
 the Don said to us, Prepare to follow me, and ask no questions. We did 
 so, and he led us through the city into a dark valley about two miles off; 
 where, after telling us to hide in the bushes, he went about one hundred 
 yards farther down the hollow, and bringing a shrill whistle, a tall, well- 
 made, active man, about thirty-five years of age came to him. A very few 
 words passed between them, they having been together the night previous, 
 and perfected all arrangements. The moon shone bright ; they came in 
 the direction of where we were concealed in the shade of some bushes, and 
 called to us to come forth. This man, said the Don, you must follow 
 but ask no questions. My express ahead will complete ever} arrangement 
 for you in Vera Cruz, and be under no alarm as to the result this man 
 knows his business. Both the place and circumstances wore much the air 
 of mystery : it looked like treason, stratagem, and murder; and to our 
 question, Might not this fellow betray us for the reward ? No, said the 
 Don; I have looked to that. He, pointing to our conductor, is the 
 most noted robber and murderer in Mexico, and is in more danger of losing 
 
OF AMERICANS. 405 
 
 his head than you. He dare not show himself to the authorities. Thus 
 saying, we took affectionate leave of the generous Don, he returning to the 
 city, and we following our silent conductor down the hollow. 
 
 Silently, in single file, we moved on ; and in a disfnal-looking place, in a 
 second ravine, we came upon his companion, holding by the bridle five 
 mules and horses. A whistle and the answer told that all was right. The 
 head man placed a bridle into each of our hands without saying a word, 
 then drew from his goat-skin bag a bottle, out of which he drank, to satisfy 
 us that it was not poison, and passed it to us we all drank and returned it. 
 Stowing it carefully away, he turned to the east, and placing the fore-finger 
 of his right hand perpendicularly across his lips, which was a caution fof 
 silence, pointed in the direction he faced, and gave the sign to mount. We 
 mounted, and followed on a narrow winding path, leading through deep ra 
 vines and broken cliffs, until daylight, not one word passing between us 
 during this long ride. At the appearance of day he turned off the trail, 
 and went into the hollow of a mountain covered with thick shrubbery. 
 Here he dismounted, and giving us the sign, we did the same. Placing by 
 our side his goat-skin bags filled with provisions and a gourd of water, ho 
 told us that night, precisely at eight o clock, he would return, and we must 
 answer a particular whistle, which he then made. So saying, he and his 
 comrades led away the horses and mules. After eating, we laid ourselves 
 upon the ground, and slept soundly until near night. 
 
 At eight o clock p. M., we heard the preconcerted whistle, and answered 
 it, when our robber guide approached, with the never-failing caution of his 
 fore-finger across his lips. He made the sign to follow, which we did, and 
 after winding through a very rough tract for about a mile, another whistle 
 and its response discovered to us his companion holding our animals. 
 
 At the given sign we mounted, and followed this night, as we had done 
 the last, under that dead silence, which made our journey the more oppres 
 sive. Our rugged and winding way through the mountains, which caused 
 us frequently, in the same hour, to travel to every point of the compass, 
 showed that our conductor knew the country well. Our faithful animals, 
 so well used to that mountainous region, were astonishingly sure-footed. 
 Frequently, in passing around almost perpendicular cliffs, in paths exceed 
 ingly stony and frightfully narrow, with a dark abyss on the one hand and 
 a perpendicular mountain on the other, the thought of our animals stum 
 bling would make our hair stand on end. Those, however, who are used to 
 these paths seem not to apprehend danger, and they have the utmost confi 
 dence in their animals, which pick their way with a loose rein, and seem to 
 know the necessity of a sure foothold. 
 
 Nearly the whole of this night we rode in a heavy rain, -and for two 
 hours in the most tremendous storm. About one hour before daylight, we 
 approached the Rio Antigua, near the Puente National, and across the great 
 road leading from Vera Cruz to the capital. Keeping the river to our right, 
 we traveled through a flat marshy bottom until daylight, when we were 
 told to dismount and lay low. We had been drenched the whole night 
 with cold rain, and had now to repose in water ankle deep, which covered 
 the bottom. Excessive fatigue soon brought sweet sleep to us, from which 
 we were aroused at noon by the known whistle of our guide. 
 
406 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 He had under his blanket a delightfully-cooked chicken, eggs, and tor 
 tillas, smoking hot, which showed that he was in the vicinity of his accom 
 plices. We never enjoyed a meal better. After we had finished eating, he 
 threw around his shoulders his dark -colored serape, and, with his usual 
 sign of silence, disappeared through the bushes. 
 
 Everything in this life is good by comparison. We had slept several 
 hours, and a sumptuous meal madte us feel vastly more comfortable ; but, 
 yet, we were deprived of our desert, for Dan could neither sing Long, 
 long Ago, nor The Soldier s Tear. After whispering to one another 
 our anecdotes, we slept several hours more, when our well known whistle 
 again started us. Our guide approached and beckoned us to follow him. 
 After winding through the boggy bottom half an hour, we came to an un 
 occupied hut, built of bamboos, and covered with palm leaves. Here he 
 told us we might sleep this night, as he must rest his horses ; that he had 
 some friends at hand, and if any alarm should be given, we must disappear 
 in the thick bushes near by. 
 
 In a short time he again returned, with a new friend, a long gray-bearded, 
 though athletic old man. This old man greeted us very kindly, with many 
 professions of devotion to our interest, and from his signs we readily recog 
 nized him to be a brother in the same cause as our guide. We gave him 
 two dollars to procure us supper, and, after an absence of an hour, he re 
 turned with one smoking hot, which we the more enjoyed, as our clothes 
 were now measurably dry. The old man lived in the immediate neighbor 
 hood, and, true to his promises, he and his family kept a close watch over 
 us that night and the next day. 
 
 At sundown our horses were brought up, and an additional one for the 
 old gray-headed man, with all his traveling paraphernalia, showed that he 
 meant to see us safe through our journey. This veteran, with all the pride 
 of many years, mounted upon a gay, plaited-tailed charger, rode ahead of 
 the party. He was a man of ready words and many compliments ; next to 
 him came our head man, of much less address, who knew that our greatest 
 difficulty was yet to be encountered. This night we met frequent compa 
 nies of smugglers and robbers, but the gray-bearded old man passed them 
 with as much ease of address as one could speak to his neighbor upon a 
 court-green. We would follow in our dark robber costume without saying 
 a word, and doubtless passed as citizens in the same trade. 
 
 Our course still lay down the River Antigua, and on the personal estate 
 of Santa Anna, through a dense forest of large trees, many of which were 
 new to our northern raising. It was necessary that the Antigua should be 
 crossed before reaching Vera Cruz, and the only practicable point for doing 
 so was at the small town of the same name near its mouth. This place, 
 which we entered about ten o clock at night, has for many years been noted 
 for smuggling. Vessels anchor off the mouth of this river, under pretense 
 of getting fresh water, which affords them an excellent opportunity to carry 
 on the contraband trade. The wide and dense bottom which lay upon each 
 side of this river, interspersed with circuitous paths, known only to smug 
 glers and robbers, affords ample shelter for this illicit trade. Here, our old 
 man was well acquainted ; and when we entered the town, he drew up his 
 horse opposite a store, with a light burning on the counter, where a Mexi- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 407 
 
 can cavalry officer was writing at the desk. He whispered to us not to dis 
 mount ; that he would go in and buy some cheese and crackers for our sup 
 per, and see how the land lay. 
 
 Upon entering the house, he appeared to be well acquainted, and rolled 
 out his salutations with his usual volubility. The cavalry officer first ad 
 dressed him, Who are those upon their horses in the street ? I have been 
 sent here with my troop these two weeks, with orders to send every for 
 eigner without passports to the Castle of San Juan d Ulloa. Do you know 
 that sixteen of those daring Texans have escaped from the Castle of Perote, 
 and several of them are yet abroad ? Before the old man had time to re 
 ply, the officer added, As soon as I finish this note, I will examine their 
 papers. 
 
 The old man, with his ready wit, replied, They have all got passports, 
 and from the English minister at that, and they are going home, at the 
 same time setting a large tumbler of aguardiente before the officer, with 
 many compliments. He drank to the venerable old man, and resumed his 
 writing in much hurry, so as to examine our passports. 
 
 The old man continued talking with his usual volubility, and threw an 
 other dollar upon the counter for more brandy, and before the note was 
 finished, the officer had to stop and take another drink. Watching his op 
 portunity, the old man slipped out into the street, and spoke to the head 
 robber to put off in haste, and cross the ferry as soon as possible, while he 
 would stay and drink with the officer. The ferry was at the other end of 
 the town, about four hundred yards distant, and we made as little delay in 
 reaching it and getting into the boat as possible. We had barely started 
 from the store before the officer came into the street to examine our papers, 
 when the old man remarked that he expected we would wait for him at the 
 ferry. The old man now feigned to be highly excited with drink, and 
 mounting his fiery horse, swept by them as though he could not control the 
 animal. He reached the ferry just as we were getting into the boat, and 
 the shortest explanation showed the necessity of our hurry. 
 
 The old man had no sooner spoke to our head robber than he threw his 
 lasso over the limb of a tree, and ran back to meet the officer. He knew 
 that one minute of time was of the last importance to us ; and meeting the 
 officer about one hundred yards from the ferry, he said, * They are waiting 
 for us, and drawing his bottle of aguardiente from his goat-skin bag, he 
 passed it to the officer; then lie took a drink with a long speech of saluta 
 tions, and begged the officer to let him pass it to his guards. This was ac 
 ceded to, and it gained us those few minutes of time necessary to our liberty. 
 When they arrived at the ferry, we were half way across ; the old man ap 
 peared in a towering passion, and bawled out to us, to stop upon the other 
 bank until he came over ; he then turned to the officer and said, Senor, 
 you need not trouble yourself farther about these foreigners: I ll vouch for 
 their passports ; but if you would rather, you can go over with me and ex 
 amine for yourself. In the meantime, while the boat was returning, the 
 bottle was freely passed between them, the old man feigning both to drink 
 and to be drunk. It was no sham with the officer, for by the time the boat 
 returned for them, he was willing to take the old man s word for our pass 
 ports. 
 
408 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 As soon as we had crossed, we put off it the direction of Yera Cruz, arid 
 stopped upon the roadside to wait for our good old friend, and to keep a 
 bright look-out who was with him. In a few minutes the boat recrossed, 
 and we discovered that only one passenger was in it ; and as the old man 
 galloped to where we waited him, he proudly clapped his hand upon his 
 breast and said, It is useless for young boys to try their wits upon me ; I 
 have been too long in the service. 
 
 The old fellow strutted to and fro, and recounted the adventure with the 
 self-satisfaction of a Wellington after the battle of Waterloo. He finished 
 his speech by turning to us and saying, Now, caballeros, you have but cne 
 more danger before you, and trust this old head for that. So f ying, we 
 moved on." 
 
 They were now within fifteen miles of Vera Cruz, which was reached 
 without any farther incidents of note. There they were secreted in a secure 
 place until an opportunity was afforded, two weeks later, to escape in an 
 American vessel to New Orleans. Several of their companions had been 
 recaptured ; among these was the herculean John Young, who had fallen 
 over a precipice in the mountains, badly crippling himself. 
 
 We close this narrative with Green s account of their leave-taking with 
 their robber guides, and the consternation among the Mexicans in the Castle 
 of Perote on the discovery of their escape. 
 
 "After we had been safely ensconced in our hiding-place, our three faith 
 ful guides came to take leave of us. They did so in the most feeling man 
 ner. The gray-bearded old man made the valedictory. He congratulated 
 us upon our extreme good luck in falling into the hands of honorable men,* 
 for, said he, as humble as your apparel appears to be, you must know that 
 there are thousands in this country who would murder you for that dirty 
 jacket, pointing to the one I had on. I thank God, said he, that as 
 long as I have worn this gray beard, I have never once forfeited my word 
 of honor. 
 
 During this speech, he strutted across the room with the utmost self- 
 satisfaction, slapping his hand upon his bosom whenever he spoke of a man 
 of honor. We then drew from the waistband of out pantaloons several 
 ounces of gold, which we had been careful to keep dark until now, and dis 
 tributed among them as a gratuity over and above their contract. We 
 thought this precaution would seal their allegiance, as we had been often 
 told that the most honest collectors of customs in Mexico will say to the im 
 porter, * That, as thin as is a doubloon, no man can see through it. When 
 they saw the gold come forth from its hiding-place, a look of surprise was 
 exchanged ; and when they fingered the yellow stuff, their countenances 
 beamed with renewed devotion to our interest. 
 
 We certified, in writing, that they had been true and faithful to us, and 
 the tall dark-skinned robber, after kissing the paper, carefully stored it in a 
 secret place under his shirt. Upon taking leave, the old man, after several 
 facetious jokes, how we would surprise our sweethearts when we reached 
 home, embraced us with a Mexican hug, both long and short. In Mexico, 
 one s regard for another is graduated in proportion to the length and the 
 strength of the embrace. Thus each of these robbers embraced us, and 
 thus we returned it : for if we found in all Mexico the most fearless devo- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 409 
 
 tion to our interest while in our misfortunes, it was in these three robber 
 guides. 
 
 Let us now for a moment look into our late prison abode at the Castle of 
 Perote. 
 
 On the night of our escape, and the next morning up to the time of 
 counting the prisoners, as might have been expected, our companions were 
 tinder the most excited apprehension, not only on our account, but also as 
 to what the discovery might cost them. Under this excitement, everything 
 remained quiet as usual, for no one iii the castle except themselves knew a 
 word of it. At nine o clock next morning, Guts arid the new guard came 
 around to the prison rooms with the sharp and often-repeated order, a-for- 
 men a-formen. This order was well understood by our Countrymen ; it 
 meant to form, and that in front of the prison doors, as usual, for inspec 
 tion, in the morning ; but still, believing every moment gained would in 
 crease our chances of success, and determining to favor us as much as pos 
 sible, they held back, and were slow to come out of the cells : some mak 
 ing one excuse, arid others another. Guts raved and stormed at their 
 tardiness ; he went into the cells in person to look where the absent were, 
 and found them not ; he inquired of the balance, and received from one in 
 answer, Perhaps they are at the comun ; and from another, They may be 
 at the tienda. These places were sent to and thoroughly searched, but still 
 they were not to be found. Our boys would repeat among themselves, 
 We will put them off to the last moment, for every minute will enable 
 our comrades to get deeper and deeper into the mountains. 
 
 During all this time, Guts swelled and raved : Where are they ? he 
 thundered out to the interpreter. Well, Van, one of them said to Van 
 Ness, it is no use to put it off any longer ; let him have it. Van replied, 
 Diez y seis faltan sixteen deficient. Where have they gone to, and 
 how did they all get off? bawled Guts, in a itill louder tone. Quien 
 gale p w ho knows ? was the reply. 
 
 Here commenced the greatest possible row ; the whole castle was imme 
 diately alarmed officers and soldiers turned out the governor came forth 
 with death-like horror upon his countenance officers and guards flew all 
 over, the castle ; examined every nook and corner the top walls went 
 round the great moat, but still did not discover the breach, the hole having 
 been so carefully stopped with a blanket. The last place where they 
 thought of looking was in the prison cells, and after much useless search, 
 one of the officers pulled back the small shutter in the center room which 
 covered the loophole, and found, to his inexpressible horror, our breach ob 
 liquing to the left. 
 
 Who could have thought these daring Texans would have undertaken 
 such a task ? They surely are akin to the devil. This castle has stood for 
 these hundred years, and no one ever dared such a thing before. These, 
 and many such exclamations of wonder and astonishment, burst forth from 
 men, women and children, officers, soldiers, and culprits ; for they all, from 
 the governor to the smallest child, came to satisfy themselves of what their 
 astonishment mixed up with miracle. 
 
 Our old comrades were doubly ironed, and guarded with increased vigil 
 ance. The officers now thought that nothing was impossible with Texans ; 
 
410 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and one of my friends, writing from the castle, said that they even believe 
 that we will escape in a letter. 
 
 While the best informed Mexicans will admit our superiority in war, both 
 in daring and the use of arms, the more uninformed entertained the most 
 strange notions of us. Many believe that we have a magic power ; others 
 believe us to be northern barbarians, of one of two tribes of white Indians, 
 who form the connecting link between mankind and the other world imps. 
 The Texan, in fact, is looked upon by them with far more astonishment 
 than was the Kentuckian, who said he was sired by a steamboat and came 
 out of a penitentiary. 
 
INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 AMOS LAWRENCE, 
 
 THE MODEL MERCHANT AND CHRISTIAN PHILANTHROPIST, WHO, FROM AN HUMIJLE 21- 
 GINNING, BECAME ONE OF THE WEALTHIEST MEN IN AMERICA, AND REMARKABLE FOR 
 HIS ENLARGED BENEVOLENCE HE HAVING GIVEN AWAY, IN THE COURSE OF HIS 
 LIFE, MORE THAN SEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS, 
 
 FOR THE BENEFIT OF MANKIND. 
 
 IT sometimes happens that the death of a good man, instead of bringing 
 his usefulness to an end, as is commonly the case, only serves to augment 
 that usefulness, by greatly enlarging the number of those whose characters 
 are formed upon the model his life has presented. While men, whoso 
 chief distinctions lie in their goodness, remain among the living, their in 
 fluence is ordinarily limited within the sphere of their personal associations; 
 but when such men die, if the story of their usefulness has been at all a 
 memorable one, its publication at once, and largely, widens their field of 
 influence. Their example is no longer bounded by the narrow limits of their 
 parish or town, but extends often to distant countries, to places the most re 
 mote, to hearts everywhere that can be moved by the narration of simple 
 and single-hearted goodness, of unostentatious benevolence, or of munifi 
 cent generosity. 
 
 The life of Amos Lawrence is illustrative of this truth. Few men have 
 ever used their stewardship more wisely than he ; few or none, whose for 
 tunes were wholly the fruit of their own enterprise and labor, ever gave 
 away so much in charities, both public and private, as Mr. Lawrence ; and 
 yet, the good he did with his abundant means, while living, is probably 
 much less than the good which will result, now that he is departed, from 
 the recorded probity, conscientiousness and goodness of his daily life. 
 
 On the 22d of July, 1775, Samuel Lawrence, the father of Amos, was 
 married at Groton, a small village thirty or forty miles from Boston, to 
 Susannah Parker. The young bridegroom was then a soldier in the army 
 of the Revolution, and his marriage was necessarily a hasty one. When 
 hostilities first commenced, he was a subaltern officer in the Groton company 
 of minute men. The morning of the 19th of April, 1775, General Prescott, 
 whose residence was in the town, rode rapidly down the street of Groton to 
 the homestead of the Lawrences, crying out, " Samuel, notify your men 
 the British are coming ! " In three hours, these minute men, scattered 
 over seven miles of country, were on their march to Cambridge. At tho 
 battle of Bunker Hill, these Groton men gave a good account of themselves, 
 particularly their veteran captain, Farwell, who was shot through the body 
 
 (4m 
 
412 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 and taken off for dead. When the indignant captain heard himself so re 
 ported by those who were bearing him from the field, he broke out, " It aini 
 true! dont let my poor wife hear of this ; I shall live to see my country 
 free," and so he did. Young Lawrence carried off, as his trophies from 
 the battle-field, two holes in his beaver hat, drilled by the same bullet which 
 plowed a furrow, from front to rear, through his hair, beside a contusion 
 on his arm from a spent grape-shot. He afterward served as adjutant to 
 General Sullivan, who was in command in Rhode Island ; was next in ser 
 vice near New York, and subsequently returned with his regiment to Cam 
 bridge, in Massachusetts. 
 
 While on a short leave of absence, from this latter station, his marriage 
 took place ; his mother having given it as her opinion that in the event of 
 anything fatal happening to her son, " it would be better for the youthful 
 Susannah to be Sam s widow, rather than Sam s forlorn damsel." 
 
 While the marriage ceremony was in progress, the half-wedded husband 
 was summoned by the clangor of the alarm-bell, to join his regiment. 
 Within the hour, h was hastened away from his wife to fulfill his military 
 duties. His case was certainly a hard one, and so his colonel seemed to 
 have thought, for he allowed him to return to Groton to his wife, to rejoin 
 his regiment within three days, at Rhode Island. After this short furlough, 
 husband and wife saw nothing more of each other for the next half year. 
 Once after a battle, in which his friends knew he must have been engaged, 
 but before it was known who had been killed or who had esriped, the 
 anxious mother said to the agitated wife, " She did not know but Sam was 
 killed." The possibility of such an event took away her strength, and she 
 fell prostrate upon the floor. Pie had indeed been in great peril, but the 
 desperate efforts of a company of blacks, together with the fleetness and 
 strength of his horse, had saved him from capture. Soon after this, he passed 
 a few days with his friends, not to be with them again till the autumn of the 
 next year, when he retired from the army to be with his Susannah in her 
 first confinement. This was the termination of his military services. 
 
 His religious character may be inferred from the fact, that for many years, 
 and until his death, he was a deacon in the Congregational Church, in Groton. 
 As a citizen, he discharged the duties of the magistracy with fidelity and 
 success. For thirty-three years, he was trustee of the academy in his na 
 tive town, which, in gratitude to him and his son, now bears the family 
 name. Such was the father of Amos Lawrence. 
 
 Of his mother, Mr. Lawrence always spoke in the strongest terms of ven 
 eration and love. Her form, bending over the bed of her children in silent 
 prayer, when about leaving them for the night, was among their earliest 
 recollections. She was a woman well fitted to rear a family through the 
 troubled times in which she lived. To the kindest affection, she united 
 energy and decision of character, and in her household enforced that strict 
 and unhesitating obedience, which she regarded as lying at the foundation of 
 all success in the education of children. Her hands were never idle, as may 
 be supposed, when it is remembered that in those days, throughout New 
 England, in addition to the cares of a farming establishment, much of tho 
 material for clothing was manufactured by the inmates of the family. 
 
 Ams Lawrence, the second son of his parents, was born at Groton, tho 
 
OF AMERICANS. 413 
 
 22d day of April, 1786. His constitution was naturally a feeble one, which 
 in childhood, often kept him from the district school, near his father s house, 
 where he acquired the first rudiments of knowledge. From this small vesti 
 bule of learning, he was transferred to the academy not far distant, where 
 lie concluded, at the rather premature age of thirteen, his school education. 
 He then went from learning to trading, and soon penetrated the mystery 
 of a New England country store. He learned to sell rum and brandy by the 
 puncheon and by the pint ; cloth by the bale and the yard ; tobacco in kegs 
 and tobacco in plugs ; together with tea-kettles, molasses, silks, gimblets } 
 indigo, grindstones, rhubarb, school-books, etc. Superadded to those mul 
 tifarious duties, was that of acting as a kind of a dispensatory clerk, to the 
 medical profession of Groton, and the neighboring towns, who looked to 
 this store of James Brazier for the replenishment of their exhausted saddle- 
 
 During this apprenticeship of young Lawrence, and for many years after 
 it was customary, throughout New England, for clerks and apprentices, 
 journeymen and employers, to prepare ardent spirits in some form, to be 
 drank in the middle of the afternoon. In common with the other clerks of 
 the establishment, he partook of the pleasant beverage, until he found him 
 self longing for the stimulus, as the hour for serving it approached, when he 
 had the resolution to abandoned the dangerous habit. Many years afterward, 
 he wrote to a young friend, respecting this incident in his life, as follows : 
 "In the first place, take this for your motto, at the commencement of your 
 journey, that the difference of going just right, or a little wrong, will be the 
 difference of finding yourself in good quarters, or in a miserable bog or 
 slough at the end of it. Of the whole number educated in the Groton 
 stores, for some years before and after myself, no one else, to my knowledge, 
 escaped the bog or slough ; and ray escape, I trace to the simple fact of my 
 having put a restraint upon my appetite. 
 
 We five boys were in the habit, every forenoon, of making a drink com 
 pounded of rum, raisins, sugar, nutmeg, etc., with biscuit all palatable to 
 eat and drink. After being in the store four weeks, I found mvself ad 
 monished, by my appetite, of the approach of the hour for indulgence. 
 Thinking the habit might make trouble, if allowed to grow stronger, with 
 out further apology to my seniors, I declined partaking with them. My 
 first resolution was to abstain for a week, and then for a year. Finally, I 
 resolved to abstain for the rest of my apprenticeship, which was for five 
 years longer. During that whole period, I never drank a spoonful, though 
 I mixed gallons daily for my old master and his customers. 
 
 I decided not to be a slave to tobacco in any form, though I loved the 
 odor of it then, and even now have in my drawer a superior Havana cigar, 
 given me, not long since, by a friend, but only to smell of. I have never in 
 my life smoked a cigar; never chewed but one quid, and that was before I 
 was fifteen ; and never took an ounce of snuff, though the scented rappee 
 of forty years ago had great charms for me. Now, I say, to this simple fact 
 of starting just right, am I indebted, with God s blessing on my labors, for 
 my present position, as well as that of numerous connections sprung up 
 around me." 
 
 After leaving school and going into the store, he writes on another occ*. 
 
414 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 sion : " There was not a month passed before I became impressed with tha 
 opinion, that restraint upon appetite was necessary to prevent the slavery I 
 saw destroying numbers around me. Many and many of the farmers, me 
 chanics, and apprentices, of that day, have filled drunkards graves, and 
 have left destitute families and friends." 
 
 Few other details of his seven years apprenticeship can now be gathered. 
 On the -2d of April, 1807, Mr. Lawrence became of age. One week later, 
 he was seen on his way to Boston, with twenty dollars in his pocket, hit 
 seven years experience, and his good principles, as his only capital with 
 which to begin the business of life. After a brief clerkship in Boston, he 
 commenced business for himself, in December, 1807, in a small store, in 
 what was then known as Cornhill, having a Lancaster youth, by the name 
 of Henry Whiting, for his only clerk. This lad afterward became better 
 known as Brigadier- General Whiting, of the United States Army. The 
 pecuniary condition of the Lawrence family, at this time, was not promis 
 ing. Speaking of this period, he says : "I was then, in the matter of pro 
 perty, not worth a dollar. My father was comfortably off as a farmer, 
 somewhat in debt ; with, perhaps, four thousand dollars. My brother, 
 Luther, was in the practice of law, getting forward, but not worth two thou 
 sand dollars; William had nothing; Abbott, a lad just fifteen years old, at 
 school ; and Samuel, a child seven years old." 
 
 This stout-hearted father, with "perhaps four thousand dollars," but 
 "somewhat in debt," with four other sons and three daughters to provide 
 for, voluntarily mortgaged his small farm, that he might loan the proceeds 
 to his son. The history of this transaction is creditable to both. Forty 
 years afterward, Mr. Lawrence wrote as follows upon the back of the 
 original mortgage deed : " My honored father brought to me the one thou 
 sand dollars, and asked me to give him my note for it. I told him he did 
 wrong to place himself in a situation to be made unhappy, if I lost the 
 money. He told me lie guessed I would nt lose it, and I gave him my 
 note. The first thing I did was to take four per cent, premium on my 
 Boston bills (the difference then between passable and Boston money), and 
 sent a thousand dollars in bills of the Hillsborough Bank to Am h erst, 
 New Hampshire, by my father, to my brother Luther, to carry to the bank 
 and get specie, as he was going there to attend court that week. My brother 
 succeeded in getting specie, principally in silver change, for the bills, and 
 returned it to me in a few days. In the meantime, or shortly after, the 
 bank had been sued, the bills discredited, and in the end, proved nearly 
 worthless. I determined not to use the money except in the safest way ; 
 and therefore loaned it to Messrs. Parkman, in whom I had entire confi 
 dence. After I had been in business, and had made more than a thousand 
 dollars, I felt I could repay the money, come what would of it; being in 
 sured against fire, and trusting nobody for goods. I used it in my business, 
 but took care to pay off the mortgage as soon as it would be received. 
 This incident shows how dangerous it is to the independence and comfort of 
 families, for parents to take pecuniary responsibilities for their sons in trade, 
 beyond their power of meeting them without embarrassment. Had my 
 Hillsborough bank notes not been paid as they were, nearly the whole 
 amount would have been lost, and myself and family might probably have 
 
OF AMERICANS. 415 
 
 Deftn ruined. The incident was so striking, that I have uniformly discour 
 aged young men, who have applied to me for credit, offering their fathers^ 
 as bondsmen; and, by doing so, I have, I believe, saved some respectable 
 families from ruin. A young man who cannot get along without such aid, 
 will not be likely to get along with it." 
 
 How the young merchant got on in his new business, without capital, 
 mny, in part, be guessed at from what he wrote years afterward to a friend : 
 I practiced upon the maxim, Business before friends, from the commence- 
 nent of my course. During the first seven years of my business in this 
 city, I never allowed a bill against me to stand unsettled over the Sabbath. 
 If the purchase of goods was made at auction on Saturday, and delivered 
 to me, I always examined and settled the bill by note or by crediting it, and 
 having it clear, so that, in case I was not on duty on Monday, there would 
 be no trouble for iny boys ; thus keeping the business before m-e, instead of 
 allowing it to drive me." 
 
 Another extract referring to certain regulations adopted in the house 
 where he boarded, may also throw some light upon his early course as a 
 successful business man. " The only rule I ever made was, that after sup- 
 ] er, all the boarders who remained in the public room should remain quiet 
 at least one hour, to give those who chose to study or read, an opportunity 
 of doing so without disturbance. The consequence was, that we had the 
 most quiet and improving set of young men in the town. The few who 
 did not wish to comply with the regulation, went abroad after tea, some 
 times to the theater, sometimes to other places, but, to a man, became bank 
 rupt in after life, riot only in fortune, but in reputation ; while a majority of 
 the other class sustained good characters, and some are now living who are 
 ornaments to society, and fill important stations." 
 
 Certain other principles by which Mr. Lawrence governed his conduct 
 in business, are worthy the notice and imitation of young men. He writes: 
 " I adopted a plan of keeping an accurate account of merchandise bought and 
 sold each day, with the profit as far as practicable. This plan was pursued 
 for a number of years, and I never found my merchandise fall short in 
 taking an account of stock, which I did as often, at least, as once in each 
 year. I was thus enabled to form an opinion of my actual state as a busi 
 ness man. I adopted, also, the rule always to .have property, after my 
 second year s business, to represent forty per cent, at least more than I 
 owed ; that is, never to be in debt more than two and a half times my cap 
 ital. This caution saved me from ever getting embarrassed. If it were 
 more generally adopted, we should see fewer failures in business. Exces 
 sive credit is the rock on which so many business men are broken. I 
 made about fifteen hundred dollars the first year, and more than four 
 thousand the second. Probably, had I made four thousand the first year, 
 I should have failed the second or third year. I practiced a system of 
 rigid economy, and never allowed myself to spend a fourpence for unneces 
 sary objects until 1 had acquired it." 
 
 In rather less than a year after the name of Amos Lawrence had appeared 
 in Cornhill, his young clerk, whose vocation seemed to lie in the direction 
 of gunpowder and musketry, rather than in that of Manchester goods, left 
 hid clerkship vacant for a successor, whose vocation, after events went to show. 
 
4:16 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 lay about equally toward commerce, cotton-spindles, and diplomacy. On 
 the 8th of October, 1808, Abbott Lawrence, late minister to England, took 
 down the shutters of his brother s store for the first time. In one of Mr. 
 Lawrence s letters, he speaks of his new clerk as follows : " In 180S r he 
 came to me as my apprentice, bringing his bundle under his arm, with less 
 than three dollars in his pocket (and this was his fortune) ; a first rat 
 business lad he was ; but like other bright lads, needed the careful eye of 
 a senior to guard him from the pitfalls that he was exposed to." 
 
 But few details of Mr. Lawrence s life from this time to the year 1814 
 are now known. In 1811 (June 6), he thought himself sufficiently pros 
 perous to take to himself a wife. Her name was Sarah Richards, the 
 daughter of Giles Richards, whose machinery for the manufacture of cards 
 for wool was one of the earliest examples of that aptitude for mechanical 
 inventions, by which the New England mind, in later years, has so honor 
 ably distinguished itself. We learn from his correspondence that no man 
 was ever more domestic in his tastes or was better satisfied with the refined 
 enjoyments and pleasures of home. A few days after the birth of a daugh 
 ter, he writes to a friend : 
 
 " I am the richest man, I suppose, on this side of the water, and the 
 richest, because the happiest. On the 23d, I was blessed by the birth of a 
 fair little daughter ; this, as you may well suppose, has filled our hearts with 
 joy. ... I wish you were a married man, and then (if you had a good 
 wife) you would know how to appreciate the pleasures of a parent. I have 
 lately thought more than ever of the propriety of your settling soon. It is 
 extremely dangerous to defer making a connection until a late period, for a 
 man is more and more in danger of not forming one, the longer he puts it 
 off; and any man who does not form this connection, grossly miscalculates 
 in the use of the means, which God has given him, to supply himself with 
 pleasures in the downhill journey of life." He concludes by enjoining his 
 
 friend, that Mrs. L has her eye on a wife for him and after describing 
 
 her accomplishments, remarks : "that the only objection to her, so far as he 
 has observed, is that she has a few thousand dollars in cash ; but this, how 
 ever, might be remedied, for after furnishing a house, the balance might be 
 given to her relations, or to some public institution." 
 
 Six years after the Groton boy had first begun to do business for himself, 
 he made a change in the proprietorship of the store, which he describes as 
 follows: "On the first of January, 1814, I took my brother Abbott into 
 partnership on eqml shares, putting fifty thousand do lars, that I had then 
 earned, into the concern. Three days afterward, the Bramble News came, 
 by which the excessive high price of goods was knocked down. Our stock 
 was then large, and had cost a high price. He was in great anguish, con 
 sidering himself a bankrupt for at least five thousand dollars. I cheered 
 him by offering to cancel our co-partnership indentures, give him up his note, 
 and at the end of the year give him five thousand dollars. He declined 
 he offer, saying I should lose that, and more beside, and as he had enlisted 
 would do the best he could. This was in character, and it was well for us 
 both. We still continue mercantile business under the first set of incen- 
 tures, and under the same firm, merely adding, & Co., a-s new partners 
 have been admitted." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 417 
 
 In about a year from the formation of this auspicious partnership, peace 
 was declared between this country and Great Britain ; soon after which the 
 junior member of the firm took passage on the first vessel that sailed from 
 Boston to Liverpool. He carried with him the following written advice 
 from his elder brother, which will help to illustrate the moral principles upon 
 which Mr. Lawrence habitually acted : 
 
 " My dear brother, I have thought best, before you go abroad, to suggest 
 a few hints for your benefit, in your intercourse with the people among 
 whom you are going. As a first and leading principle, let every transaction 
 be of that pure and honest character that you would not be ashamed to 
 have appear before the whole world, as clearly as to yourself. In addition 
 to the advantages arising from an honest course of conduct with your fellovv- 
 men7 there is the satisfaction of reflecting within yourself, that you have 
 endeavored to do your duty ; and, however greatly the best may fall short 
 of doing all they ought, they will be sure not to do more than their princi 
 ples enjoin. It is, therefore, of the highest consequence, that you should 
 not only cultivate correct principles, but that you should place your stan 
 dard of action so high as to require great vigilance in living up to it. In 
 regard to your business transactions, let everything be so registered in your 
 books, that any person, without difficult} , can understand the whole of your 
 concerns. You may be cut off in the midst of your pursuits, and it is of no 
 small consequence that your temporal affairs should always be so arranged 
 that you would be in readiness. If it is important that you should be well 
 prepared in this point of view, how much more important is it that you 
 should be prepared in that which relates to eternity. 
 
 While here, your conduct has been such as to meet ray entire approba 
 tion ; but the scenes of another land may be more than your principles will 
 stand against. I say, may be, because young men, of as fair promise as your 
 self, have been lost by giving a small latitude (innocent in the first instance) 
 to their propensities. But, I pray the Father of all mercies to have you in 
 his keeping, and preserve you amid temptations." 
 
 In a subsequent letter, is found this additional advice : " My next and 
 constant direction will be to keep a particular watch over yourself, that you 
 do not fall into any habits of vice ; and as a means of preserving yourself, 
 I would most strictly enjoin that your Sabbaths bo not spent in noise and 
 riot, but that you attend the public worship of God. This you may think 
 an unnecessary direction to you, who have always been in the habit of doing 
 so. I hope it may be ; at any rate, it will do no harm." 
 
 Amid the growing cares of his largely increased mercantile operations, 
 Mr. Lawrence continued to find his chief solace and enjoyment in the bosom 
 of his family. His evenings were passed at home, and urgent must have 
 been the call which could then have drawn him from his fireside. So much 
 did the interests of his little household transcend all other interests, in his 
 regards, that he watched, on one occasion, by the side of a sick child, for 
 an entire fortnight, day and night, and then had the satisfaction of wit 
 nessing its recovery, though physician and friends had pronounced it hope 
 less. 
 
 These domestic qualities of Mr. Lawrence were soon to be subjected to 
 one of the severest of earthly trials. In the spring of 1818, Mrs. Lawrenci 
 
418 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 was troubled with a cough, which speedily became so obstinate as to induce 
 her to make trial of the pure air of her husband s native place. Within 
 two or three months, he, in turn, was seized with an alarming illness, which, 
 brought her to his side. After a few weeks watching, and when the hus 
 band s life was despaired of, the wife was seized with hemorrhage from the 
 lungs. It seemed likely that their journey of life would terminate together, 
 but HE that controls such things had determined differently. Mr. Lawrence 
 slowly and imperfectly regained his health ; and on the 14th of January, 
 1819, closed the eyes of her whom, a little more than seven years before, he 
 had taken as his companion till death should part them. 
 
 Previous to this bereavement, his constitution had been greatly shattered, 
 but after this event, his sense of loss and mental depression became such 
 that he was induced to make trial of a change of scene and occupation by 
 a protracted visit to the Middle States and Virginia. On his return, with 
 health somewhat improved, he sought to direct his mind from painful rem 
 iniscences, by devoting himself with increased ardor to his business. By 
 pursuing this course, aided by the judicious sympathy and kindness of his 
 brother Abbott, and his family, with whom he now resided, his mind re 
 gained its tone, his health was restored, and he was again the efficient and 
 successful man of business. 
 
 In April, 1821, Mr. Lawrence was married to Mrs. Nancy Ellis, widow 
 of the late Judge Ellis, of Claremont, N. H., and daughter of Robert 
 Means, Esq., of Amherst, in the same State. The same year, he was elected 
 as representative from Boston to the legislature, which was the only occasion 
 on which he served in a public legislative body. About this time he gave 
 the subjoined valuable advice in a letter to Hon. Frederick Walcott, of Con 
 necticut, whose son was then a clerk in his employ, and subsequently became 
 
 his partner. " H will have much leisure in the evening, which, if he 
 
 choose, may be profitably devoted to study ; and we hope he will lay out 
 such a course for himself, as to leave no portion of his time unappropriated. 
 It is on account of so much leisure, that so many fine youths are ruined in 
 this town. The habit of industry once well fixed, the danger is over. Will 
 it not be well for him to furnish you, at stated periods, an exact account of 
 his expenditures ? The habit of keeping such an account will be serviceable, 
 and if he is prudent, the satisfaction will be great, ten years hence, in look 
 ing back and observing the process by which his character has been formed." 
 
 From the passage by Congress of the tariff of 1824, the firm of which 
 Mr. Lawrence was the senior partner, became largely engaged in domestic 
 manufactures. To them, perhaps, more than any other single establishment, 
 is New England indebted for the success of that system of manufacturing 
 industry which, in multiplying so vastly her material wealth, has also de 
 monstrated the compatibility of female labor in factories, with intelligence, 
 relf-respect, and many of the refinements of life, on the part of such opera 
 tives. Mr. Lawrence watched with great solicitude, the progress of Lowell 
 and other manufacturing towns, not only in the increase of wealth, but also 
 in morals, religion, and the facilities for instruction and education. Churches, 
 libraries, hospitals, in these communities, found in him a munificent friend, 
 and it was with feelings of exultation, both as a patriot and a manufacturer, 
 that he could point an. intelligent stranger to the industry of Manchester 
 
OF AMEK.CANS. 
 
 without its vice, to the ingenuity of Birmingham, without its suffering and 
 disease. 
 
 For the thirty-eight years previous to his death, Mr. Lawrence was in the 
 habit, annually, of noting down the amount of his property, both as a guide 
 to himself and, in case of his death, as a means of facilitating the settle 
 ment cf his estate. In the little memorandum book where these statements 
 were recorded, occurs, under date of January 1, 1826, the following entry : 
 " I have been extensively engaged in business during the last two years, 
 and hace added much to my worldly possessions ; but have come to the 
 same conclusion in regard to them that I did in 1818. I feel distressed in 
 mind that the resolutions then made have not been more eifectual in keep 
 ing me from this wer-engagedness in business. I now find myself so en 
 grossed with its cares, as to occupy my thoughts, waking or sleeping, to a 
 degree entirely disproportioned to its importance. The quiet and comfort 
 of home, broken in upon by the anxiety arising from the losses and mis 
 chances of a business so extensive as ours, and, above all, that communion 
 which ought ever be kept free between man and his Maker, is interrupted 
 by the incessant calls of the multifarious pursuits of our establishment. 
 Property acquired at such sacrifices as I have been obliged to make the past 
 year, costs more than its worth ; and the anxiety ot protecting it is the ex 
 treme of folly." 
 
 A year later he writes as follows : " The principles of business laid down 
 a year ago, have been very nearly practiced upon. Our responsibilities and 
 anxieties have greatly diminished, as also have the accustomed profits of 
 business ; but there is sufficient remaining for the record of our labor to 
 impose on us increased responsibilities and duties, as agents who must, at 
 last, render an account. God grant that mine be found correct." 
 
 On the first of January, 1828, after giving an account of his pecuniary 
 circumstances, he writes : " The amount of property is great for a young 
 man under forty-two years of age, who came to this town when he was 
 twenty-one years old, with no other possessions than a common country 
 education, a sincere love for his own family, and habits of industry, econ 
 omy, and sobriety : under God, it is these same self-denying habits, and a 
 desire I always had to please, so far as I could without sinful compliance, 
 that I can now look back upon and see as the true ground of my success. 
 I have many things to reproach myself with ; but among them is not 
 idling away my time, or spending money for such things as are improper. 
 My property imposes upon me many duties, which can only be known to 
 my Maker. May a sense of these duties be constantly impressed upon my 
 mind ; and by a constant discharge of them, God grant me the happiness ai 
 last of hearing the joyful sound, Well done, good and faithful servant, enter 
 thou into the joy of thy Lord. " 
 
 Few letters of Mr. Lawrence, previous to the year 1828, seem to have 
 been found by his biographer ; but from that time to his death, his corres 
 pondence, particularly with his children, is mostly preserved, and fills many 
 volumes. His advice, about this time, to his second son, then at school 
 at Andover, is deserving the attention of other parents. He writes : " Get 
 the habit firmly fixed, of putting down every cent you receive and every 
 cent you expend. In this way you will acquire some knowledge of the 
 27 
 
420 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 relative value of things, and a habit of judging and of care which will be 
 of uso to you during all your life. Among the numerous people who have 
 failed in business, within my knowledge, a prominent cause has been a 
 want of system in their affairs, by which to know when their expenses and 
 losses exceeded their profits. This habit is as necessary for professional 
 men as for a merchant, because, in their business, there are mimercns ways 
 to make little savings, if they find their income too small, which they 
 would not adopt without looking at the detail of all their expenses. It if 
 the habit of consideration I wish you to acquire ; and the habit of being 
 accurate will have an influence upon your whole character in life." 
 
 While Mr. Lawrence was most solicitous that his children should acquire 
 just principles, as the most important of all earthly possessions, he did not 
 under- value the worth of graceful and amiable manners. To his eldest son, 
 then at school in France, he writes : " I beseech you to consider well the 
 advantages you enjoy, and to avail yourself of your opportunities to give 
 your manners a little more care and polish ; for you may depend upon it, 
 manners are highly important in your intercourse with the world. Good 
 principles, good temper, and good manners, will carry a man through the 
 world much better than he can get along with the absence of either. The most 
 important are good principles. Without these, the best manners, although 
 for a time very acceptable, cannot sustain a person in trying situations. Do 
 not omit the opportunity to acquire a character and habits that will con 
 tinue to improve during the remainder of life. At its close, the reflection 
 that you have thus done, will be a support and stay worth more than any 
 sacrifice you may ever be called on to make in acquiring these habits." 
 
 Little is known, with certainty, of the extent of Mr. Lawrence s charities 
 previous to the year 1829. Up to this time, he had kept no account of his 
 benefactions, whether large or small. It can hardly be doubted, however, 
 that his liberality was as great then, in proportion to nis means, as it was 
 known to be during the last twenty-three years of his life. On the same 
 page with the estimate of his property in 1830, is the following memoran 
 dum : "With a view to know the amount of my expenditures for objects 
 other than the support of my family, I have, for the year 1829, kept a par 
 ticular account of such other expenses as came under the denomination of 
 charities, and appropriations for the benefit of others, not of my own house 
 hold, for many of whom I feel under the same obligation as for my own 
 family." His son and biographer says : "This memorandum was commenced 
 on the first of January, 1829, and is continued until December 30, 1852, the 
 last day of his life. It contains a complete statement of his charities during 
 that whole period, including not only what he contributed in money, but 
 also all other donations, in the shape of clothing materials, books, pro 
 visions, and his custom was to note down the cost value of the donation, 
 after it had been dispatched ; whether in the shape of a book, a turkey, or 
 one of his immense bundles of varieties to some poor country-minister s 
 family, as large, as he says in addressing one, as a small hay-cock. Two 
 rooms in his house, and sometimes three, were used principally for the re 
 ception of useful articles for distribution. There, when stormy weather or 
 ill health prevented him from taking his usual drive, he was in the habit of 
 passing hours in selecting and packing up articles which he considered suit- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 421 
 
 able to the wants of those he wished to aid. On such days, his coachman s 
 services were put in requisition to pack and tie up the small hay-cocks, 
 and many an illness was the result of over-exertion and fatigue in supplying 
 the wants of his poorer brethren. These packages were selected according 
 to the wants of the recipients, and a memorandum made of the contents. 
 Most of them contained substantial articles for domestic use, and were often 
 accompanied by a note containing from five to fifty dollars in money. 
 
 The distribution of books was another mode of usefulness to which Mr. 
 Lawrence attached much importance. In his daiJy drives, his carriage was 
 well stored with useful volumes, which he scattered among persons of all 
 classes and ages, as he had opportunity. These books were generally of a 
 religious character, whrle others of a miscellaneous nature were purchased 
 in large numbers, and sent to institutions or individuals in remote parts of 
 the country. 
 
 Old and young, rich and poor, shared equally in these distributions ; and 
 he rarely allowed an occasion to pass unimproved, when he thought an in 
 fluence could be exerted by the gift of an appropriate volume. While 
 waiting one day in his carriage with a friend, in one of the principal thor 
 oughfares in the city, he beckoned to a genteelly dressed young man who 
 was passing, and handed him a book. Upon being asked whether the young 
 man was an acquaintance, he replied, No, he is not ; but you remember 
 where it is written, Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it 
 after many days. A barrel of books, is no uncommon item found in his 
 record of articles almost daily forwarded to one and another of his distant 
 beneficiaries." 
 
 While Mr. Lawrence was thus doing good, in many quiet and unostenta 
 tious ways, and while his means for doing this good were rapidly augment 
 ing, under the successful efforts of himself and other New England cap 
 italists, to build up in her midst a great manufacturing community, the 
 hand of God was laid heavily upon him, depriving him suddenly of health, 
 and of the capacity for fulfilling many of the duties of an active commercial 
 life. On a very warm day of June, 1831, while in his counting-room, Mr. 
 Lawrence drank too freely of cold water; soon after he was seized with a 
 violent and alarming illness, by which the function of the stomach seemed 
 to have been destroyed, and which for a time threatened his life. Though 
 he lived for more than twenty years after this affliction, his life continually 
 hung upon a thread. 
 
 What the feelings of Mr. Lawrence were at this time, when his days 
 were apparently drawing to a rapid close, will be seen from these extracts 
 from two letters, one to his son in Europe, and the other to his honored 
 mother. "In that dread hour when I thought that the next perhaps would 
 be my last on- earth my thoughts resting upon my God and Saviour, then 
 upon the past scenes of my life, then upon my dear children, the belief 
 that their minds are well directed, and that they will prove blessings to 
 society, and fulfill in some good degree, the design of Providence in 
 placing them here, was a balm to my spirits that proved more favorable to 
 my recovery than any of the other remedies. May you never forget that 
 every man is individually responsible for his actions, and must be held ac 
 countable for his opportunities !" 
 
22 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 To his mother he wrote : " Daring that period in which I considered my 
 recovery as hardly probable, my mind was calm, and while in review of the 
 past, I found many things to lament ; and in contemplation of the future, 
 much to fear, but more to hope, I could find no other words in which to 
 express my thoughts, than the words of the publican, God be merciful to 
 me a sinner ! All the small distinctions of sects and forms dwindled into 
 air, and seemed to me more worthless than ever. The cares and anxieties 
 of the world did not disturb me, believing it to be of small moment whether 
 I should be taken now, or spared a few years longer." 
 
 For many weary months, Mr. Lawrence was confined as an invalid to the 
 seclusion of home ; but instead of making his ill-health an apology for self- 
 indulgence, he finds occasion for it to widen the field of his benevolence, 
 and to deepen his conviction of the necessity of doing all in his power for 
 the benefit of his fellow-men. 
 
 In speaking of some application for aid from a charitable institution, 
 he writes to his son : " I think you will find great advantage in doing 
 this part of your duty upon a system which you can adopt ; thus, for in 
 stance, divide your expenses into ten parts, nine of which may be termed 
 for what is considered necessary, making a liberal calculation for such as 
 your situation would render proper, and one part applied for the promotion 
 of objects not directly or legally claiming your support, but such as every 
 good citizen would desire to have succeed. This, I think, you will find the 
 most agreeable part of your expenses ; and if you should be favored with 
 an abundance of means later in life, you may enlarge your appropriations of 
 this sort, so as to be equal to one tenth of your income. Neither yourself 
 nor those who depend upon you, will ever feel the poorer. I believe the 
 rule might be profitably adopted by many who have small means ; for they 
 would save more by method, than they would be required to pay." 
 
 To the same general purport, is a letter written about the same time to 
 his second son, at Andover : " It is one of my privileges, not less than one of 
 my duties, to be able thus to minister to the comfort of a circle of very 
 dear friends. I hope you will one day have the delightful consciousness of 
 using a portion of your means in a way to give you as much pleasure as I 
 now experience. Your wants may be brought within a very moderate 
 compass ; and I hope you will never feel yourself at liberty to waste on 
 yourself such means as by system and right principles, may be beneficially 
 applied to the good of those around you. Providence has given us unerring 
 principles to guide us in our duties of this sort. Our first duty is to those 
 of our own household, then extending to kindred, friends, neighbors (and the 
 term neighbor may, in its broadest sense, take in the whole human 
 family), citizens of our State, then of our country, then of the other countries 
 of the world." 
 
 A subsequent letter, written soon after the preceding, speaks of 
 some of the causes of his success in business. " The secret of the whole 
 matter was, that we had formed the habit of promptly acting, thus taking 
 the top of the tide, while the habit of some others was to delay until about 
 half-tide, thus getting on the flats ; while we were all the time prepared for 
 action, and ready to put into any port that promised well. I wish, by all 
 these remarks, to impress upon you the necessity of qualifying yourself to 
 
OF AMERICANS. 423 
 
 support yourself. The best education that I can secure, shall be yours, and 
 such facilities for usefulness as may be in my power, shall be rendered ; but 
 no food to pamper idleness or wickedness, will I over supply willingly to 
 any connection, however near. I trust I have none who will ever misuse 
 so basely anything that may come to them as a blessing." 
 
 The great end for which Mr. Lawrence seems to have lived is thus ex 
 pressed in a letter to his daughter : " The tenure of my life seems frail ; stilt 
 it may continue longer than the lives of my children ; but whenever it shall 
 please God to call me hence, I hope to feel resigned to his will, and to leave 
 behind me such an influence as shall help forward the timid and faint 
 hearted in the path of duty." 
 
 During the summer and autumn of 1832, and the early months of 1833, 
 it seem 3d probable that he would regain his health, and be able to resume 
 the active duties of life. But this hope proved fallacious. While he was 
 restored to such a measure of health as to be able to ride his horse almost 
 daily (on which occasion he was constantly accompanied by some of the 
 city clergy, without much regard, however, to the denomination to which 
 they belonged), his liability to a relapse was constant. Bad news, annoying 
 occurrences, anxiety of mind, or a slight cold, would so impair his digestion, 
 as to rediice his strength to the lowest point. It was this unusual sensitive 
 ness of constitution which ultimately induced Mr. Lawrence to adopt that 
 peculiar system of diet which he practiced for the last sixteen years of his 
 life. His food was simple in kind and limited in quantity. To avoid all 
 temptation to excess, his meals were taken apart from those of his family, 
 after having been scrupulously weighed. In a letter to President Hopkins, 
 of Williams College, he says : "If your young folks want to know the 
 meaning of epicurianism, tell them to take some bits of coarse bread (one 
 ounce and a little more), soak them in three gills of coarse meal gruel, and 
 make their dinner of them and nothing else ; beginning very hungry, and 
 leaving off more hungry. The food is delicious, and such as no modern 
 epicurianism can equal.". 
 
 Under all the perplexities and discouragements arising from shattered 
 nerves and impaired health, his correspondence continues to show the em 
 inently conscientious, as well as practical character of his mind. To his 
 Bon in the country, he writes: "I want you to analyze more closely the 
 tendency of principles, associations, and conduct, and strive to adopt such 
 as will make it easier for you to go right than to go wrong. The moral 
 taste, like the natural, is vitiated by abuse. Gluttony, tobacco, and intox 
 icating drinks, are not less dangerous to the latter, than loose principles, bad 
 associations, and profligate conduct, are to the former. Look well to all 
 these things." 
 
 A letter to a young friend is also characteristic : " When you get married, 
 do not expect a higher degree of perfection than is consistent with mor 
 tality, in your wife. If you do, you will be disappointed. Be careful, and 
 do not choose upon a theory either. I dislike much of the nonsense and 
 quackery that is dignified with the name of intellectual among people. 
 Old faihioned common-sense is a deal bett er. . . . There was a part of 
 Boston which used to be visited by young men out of curiosity, when I first 
 came here, into which I never set foot for the whole time I remained a 
 
ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 single man. I avoided it, because I not only wished to keep clear of the 
 temptations common in that part, but to avoid the appearance of evil, i 
 never regretted it ; and I would advise all young men to strengthen their 
 good resolutions by reflection, and to plant deep and strong the principles 
 of right, and to avoid temptation, as time gives them strength to stand 
 against it." 
 
 Of the same character is the advice, as to marriage, which he gives to an. 
 other young friend : " Take care that fancy does not beguile you of youi 
 understanding, in making your choice : a mere picture is not all that 
 is needful in the up-and-down hills of life. The arrangements of the 
 household and the sick-room, have more in them to fasten upon the 
 heart, than all the beauties and honors of the mere gala days, however suc 
 cessfully shown off. Be careful, when you fish, to get a heart, a soul, and 
 a body ; not the show of a body that has mere vitality." 
 
 As years rolled over his head, Mr. Lawrence s conviction of his in 
 debtedness to the instruction and example of his now widowed and ven 
 erable mother, seems, from his correspondence, to have been greatly deep 
 ened. Writing to his sister, under date of October 25, 1835, he says : "My 
 thoughts this morning have been much engaged with my early home. I 
 conclude it best to embody them in part, and send them forward to add (if 
 they may) a token of gratitude and thankfulness to that dear one who is 
 left to us, for her care of our early days, and her Christian instruction and 
 example to her children, grand-children, great-grand-children ; each gener 
 ation of whom, I trust, will be made better in some of its members by 
 her. It is more natural, when, in our weakness and want, to turn our 
 thoughts to those whom they have been accustomed to look to for assist 
 ance ; and thus to me the impression of the blessing I enjoy in having such 
 a home as mine is, and the blessing I early enjoyed in having such a home 
 as mine was, under my father s roof, say to my heart, All these increase 
 thy responsibilities, and for their use, thou must account. I have had one 
 of my slight ill turns, within the last two days, that has brought back all 
 these feelings with increased force ; and I look upon these as gentle mon 
 itors, calculated to make me estimate more fully my blessings and my duties. 
 Frequently as I am admonished of the frail tenure by which I hold my life, 
 I am negligent and careless in the performance of those high and every 
 day duties which I should never lose sight of for an hour. I have also 
 such buoyancy of spirits, that life seems to me a very, very great blessing, 
 and I do, at times, strive to make it useful to those around me." 
 
 In Mr. Lawrence s memorandum-book of property, under date of Decem 
 
 ber 31, 1835, occurs the following entry : " My expenses have been 
 
 thousand dollars this year, of which about one half went for persons and 
 objects that make me feel that it has been well expended, and is better used 
 than to remain in my possession." 
 
 A letter to his mother, written two years later, shows the habitual feeling 
 which influenced Mr. Lawrence in h-is use of his property : " This day com 
 pletes thirty years since my commencing business, with the hope of acquir 
 ing no very definite amount of property, or having in my mind any antici 
 pation of ever enjoying a tithe of that consideration my friends and the 
 public are disposed to award me at this time. In looking back to that period* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 425 
 
 and reviewing tha events as they come along, I can see the good hand of 
 God in all my experience ; and acknowledge, with deep humiliation, my 
 want of gratitude and proper return for all his mercies. May each day I 
 live impress me more deeply with a sense of duty, and find me better pre 
 pared to answer His call, and account for my stewardship. The changes in 
 our family have been perhaps no greater than usual in other families in that 
 period, excepting in the matter of the eminent success that has attended our 
 efforts of a worldly nature. This worldly success is the great cause of our 
 danger in its use, and may prove a snare, unless we strive to keep constantly 
 in mind, that to whom much is given, of him, will much be required. I 
 feel my own deficiencies, and lament them ; but am encouraged and re 
 warded by the enjoyment, in a high degree, of all my well-meant efforts 
 for the good of those around me. In short, I feel as though I can still do 
 a little to advance the cause of human happiness while I remain here." 
 
 The pecuniary embarrassment in the business of the country, in the year 
 1837, will long be remembered. At the close of this year, he writes in his 
 diary : "The violent revulsion in the business of the country, during the 
 past year, has been ruinous to many ; but so far as my own interests are con 
 cerned, has been less than I anticipated. My property remains much as it 
 was a year ago. Something beyond my income has been disposed of; and 
 I have no debts against me, either as a partner in the firm or individually. 
 Everything is in a better form for settlement than at any former period, and 
 I hope to feel ready to depart whenever called." 
 
 The following admirable advice was written in an account-book, which 
 he gave to his youngest son, when a lad of twelve years old : " My dear son, 
 I give you this little book, that you may write in it, how much money you 
 receive, and how you use it. It is of much importance, in forming your 
 early character, to have correct habits, and a strict regard to truth in all you 
 do. For this purpose, I advise you never to cheat yourself by making a 
 false entry in this book. If you spend money for an object you would not 
 willingly have known, you will be more likely to avoid doing the same 
 thing again, if you call it by its right name here, remembering always that 
 there is ONE who cannot be deceived, and that He requires his children to 
 render an account of all their doings at last. I pray God so to guide and 
 direct you, that when your stewardship here is ended, he may say to you, 
 that the talents entrusted to your care have been faithfully employed." 
 
 To his sister he writes, December 22, 1848 : " It is thirty-one years, this 
 week, since I commenced business on my own account, and the prospects 
 were as gloomy at that period for its successful pursuit, as at any time since; 
 but I never had any doubt or misgiving as to my success, for I then had 
 no more wants than my means would justify. The habits then formed, and 
 since confirmed and strengthened by use, have been the foundation of my 
 good name, good fortune, and present happy condition. At that time, my 
 gains were more than my expenses ; thus strengthening and encouraging 
 me in the steady pursuit of those objects I had in view as a beginner, From 
 that time to this, I am not aware of ever desiring or acquiring any great 
 amount by a single operation, or of taking any part of tho property of 
 any other man and mingling it with my own, when I had the legal right to 
 do so. I have had such uniform success, as to make my fidelity a matte/ 
 
4:26 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of deep concern to myself; and my prayer to God is, that I may be found 
 to have acted a uniform part, and receive the joyful c well done, which is 
 substantial wealth, that no man can take away." 
 
 The band of brothers, five in number, who had, for so many years, gone 
 hand in hand, united by a common affection, and rejoicing together in a 
 common prosperity was now to be broken. Their father had early charged 
 them "not to fallout by the way; for a three-fold cord is not quickly 
 broken." This injunction had been to them a sacred one. Whoever has 
 Been them walking arm and arm, on a Sunday evening, after service, can 
 hardly have failed to feel " how good and pleasant a thing it is for breth 
 ren to dwell together in unity." 
 
 The 17th of April, 1839, the eldest brother, Luther, then mayor of 
 Lowell, while showing a relation through the buildings of the Middlesex 
 Manufacturing Company, recently erected by his brothers, made a mis-step, 
 which precipitated him into a deep wheel-pit, causing almost instant death. 
 This sad event was deeply felt by Mr. Lawrence, and by all who knew the 
 character of the deceased. In a letter to his sisters, he says : " Brother L. s 
 death may, perhaps, be more efficient in instructing us in the path of duty 
 than would have been his life ; and the whole community is admonished 
 by this event in a way that I have rarely seen marked. The homage to his 
 character is a legacy to his children of more value than all the gold in the 
 mint." 
 
 The character of Mr. Lawrence s mind naturally inclined him to reverence 
 for the past. He looked with great distrust upon some of the tendencies 
 which an unprecedented prosperity had begun to develop in our country. 
 "I hardly know when I have been more forcibly impressed with a plain 
 truth than I was yesterday, while sitting alone on horseback, on the top of the 
 redoubt on Dorchester Heights, and the considerations of the past, the present, 
 and the future, were the subjects of my thoughts, connecting the men of those 
 days with the present, and the men of these days with the future, the 
 evidence is irresistable, that there is a downhill tendency in the character 
 of the people, which in sixty years more, will make us more corrupt than 
 any other enlightened nation so young as ours, unless we are checked by 
 adversity and suffering. There seems to be a spirit of reckless adventure 
 in politics and religion, not contemplated seventy years ago. How far our 
 experience in self-government in this country is going to advance the cause 
 of good government, and the ultimate happiness of man, \s yet a problem. 
 Our principles are of the most elevating character ; our practices under 
 them, of the most debasing ; and if we continue in this way another gen 
 eration, there will not be virtue enough in active use to save the forms of 
 our government." 
 
 On the thirty-third anniversary of his commencing business, he enters in 
 his diary : " My daily aspirations are for wisdom and integrity, to do what 
 is required of me ; but the excuses for omissions, and the hidden promptings 
 of pride or selfishness in the sins of commission, take away all confidence 
 that all is done as it should be. I am in the enjoyment of as much as be 
 longs to our condition here ; wife, children, and friends, those three little 
 blessings that were spared to us after the fall, impart enjoyment that makes 
 my home as near a heaven on earth as is allowed to mortals." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 427 
 
 At this time, tho reputation of Mr. Lawrence, for benevolence, had be* 
 came so established, that not only the necessitous, but such as make a trade 
 of speculating upon the charity of the liberal, were frequent applicants for 
 his aid. So serious had this annoyance become, that he felt himself con 
 strained to deny himself to all applicants, who were neither known to him 
 self nor properly commended by those in whom he had confidence. He 
 was in the habit of keeping a record of the names, ages, occupations, etc., of 
 those who solicted his assistance. These memoranda are sometimes both 
 quaint and plain spoken ; for instance : "June, 6. G. M. called to sell 
 a lot of sermons, called the , which he says he caused to be pub 
 lished to do good, but he repeated it so often that I doubted him. He seems 
 to me a wooden-nutmeg fellow, although he has the Rev. Mr. s cer 
 tificate." 
 
 One of the most striking as well as amiable traits in Mr. Lawrence s char 
 acter was his absolute freedom from sectarian bitterness. Though con 
 nected with a Unitarian Church (that of Brattle street), from his first com 
 mencement in business, down to the day of his death, he had the pleasure 
 of numbering among his most intimate friends, clergymen of all shades and 
 theological opinions. 
 
 It would be impossible, within the scope of this article, to give even a 
 full outline of the life of such a man as Amos Lawrence. His Diary and 
 Correspondence, a work of three hundred and sixty pages, duodecimo, com 
 piled by his son, was thought of such inestimable value to the young, that 
 many of the Boston merchants presented a copy to each of their clerks ; 
 one house taking sixty for that purpose. 
 
 "The publication of the Diary of Amos Lawrence," states a print of 
 the time, "naturally recalls many anecdotes of his life, and one of a cer 
 tain remarkable pocket-book, that belonged to him, deserves to be repeated. 
 We will try to relate the fact in the way it was once told by Father Tay 
 lor, of Boston. On the occasion of an anniversary celebration in that city, 
 a large number of orthodox clergymen wore seated on the platform, and 
 among them was the well-known preacher to seamen. A remark had been 
 dropped by one of the speakers, implying a doubt whether any Unitarian 
 could go to heaven. Father Taylor fired up at the word, and springing to 
 his feet he exclaimed, in his indescribable manner : No Unitarian go to 
 heaven ! Mr. Chairman, I have a word to say about that. I have this day 
 seen Amos Lawrence s pocket-book. It is such a pocket-book as was never 
 made before. On one fold of it is printed in gilt letters, What shall it 
 profit a man if he gain the whole world and loose his own soul? You 
 open another fold and read, The gold is mine, saith the Lord of Hosts.* 
 On still another fold is printed, He that giveth to the poor, Icndeth to the 
 Lord. I asked Mr. Lawrence what all this was for. He told me that he 
 remembered that, as men grew old,, they sometimes grew selfish, and every 
 time he looked to his money, he wanted to be reminded of the great prin 
 ciples of the Gospel, by which he ought to hold and use his worldly goods; 
 and therefore he kept money in each of those folds of his pocket-book, for 
 all good uses which Divine Providence might suggest. Now, Mr. Chair 
 man, what are you going to do with a man who carries such a book in his 
 pocket ? Do you mean to send him to hell ? Do you think the devil and 
 
428 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 his angels would permit a man with principles like these to enter his do 
 mains ? Why, sir, such doctrines carried" to hell, would make an uproar 
 and revolution there more terrible than ever before- known, and it never 
 could be easy till he was cast out. I ask again, what do you mean to do 
 with him? Father Taylor s question was not answered; but whatever 
 trouble the case he supposed might create in the locality named, certain it 
 is that his own speech made quite a sensation on the platform." 
 
 Mr. Lawrence finished his earthly pilgrimage on the last day of the year 
 1852. All his temporal affairs had been arranged in view of this event ; 
 and there can be no doubt but that he was fully prepared for that world of 
 love to which he was undoubtedly called. 
 
 ".Religion was eminently a part of Mr. Lawrence s business not the re 
 ligion of a dead faith only, but a religion in which an active faith, and the 
 works of love and human charity were united with humility. His pastor 
 remarks of him in his funeral discourse, that he was a constant worshipper 
 in his (the old Brattle street) church for forty-six years, and, for more than 
 forty years, was a communicant, and for ten years a deacon, which office he 
 was compelled to resign on account of continued ill-health. His Diary and 
 Letters show a heart full of reverence, and imbued with a Christian vitality, 
 that might put many louder and more clamorous professors to shame. 
 
 He not unfrequently sent to his store for one or two thousand dollars at 
 a time, in small bills, to be used in the service of his charities. He nevei 
 gave without due examination, and his gifts were more generally voluntary, 
 than the results of solicitation or personal appeals. His biographer esti 
 mates the sum, which he devoted to charities during his life, and mostly 
 during the last ten years of it, to be not less than seven hundred thousand 
 dollars, and remarks, that although many persons have done more, few 
 have done so much in proportion to the means they had to bestow. 
 
 Amos Lawrence takes a place among the great men of his time. He was 
 not a great scholar, nor a great orator, nor a great politician. He had not 
 great learning, nor great genius ; but, nevertheless, he was a great man. He 
 had a great heart, and any mind that could direct it so wisely as it was 
 directed, is a great mind ; for wisdom in action, requires such a combination 
 and proportion of qualities that any man who exhibits it, is pre-eminently 
 entitled to the appellation of great. " 
 
 He was a living example of a successful merchant, who had from the 
 earliest period of his business career, risen above all anticipation, and had 
 never been willing to turn to advantage the ignorance or misfortunes of others. 
 Even while an apprentice, in his native town, many of his customers relied 
 upon his judgment, rather than their own, in the selection of goods for their 
 purchase. He never deceived them. What "Amos" said was right, no 
 one could gainsay. It was this sterling honesty, more than any other one 
 thicg, that contributed to his success in life. 
 

* Si! 
 
 5 "I."! 
 
 I 
 
 ^ o *:: 
 
 
 - 
 
FIVE TEARS 
 
 AMERICAN SOLDIER 
 
 COMPRISING ADVENTURES AT PALO ALTO, RESACA DE LA PALMA, MONTEREY, VKR* 
 CRUZ, CERRO GOROO, AND IN THE BATTLES IN THE VALLEY OF MEXICO, INTER 
 SPERSED WITH ANECDOTES OF 
 
 MILITARY LIFE, IN PEACE AND IN WAR. 
 
 IF anxious mothers always had their own way, and if young men pos 
 sessed a little more knowledge, the business of the world would suffer. 
 Both commerce and war, those agents of civilization, would be shorn of 
 recruits, by the force of maternal influence and a vivid sense of the evils 
 which these pursuits are apt to bring upon their followers. 
 
 But young lads are ignorant, imagination is active, and they are often 
 lured on by the charm of novelty to rush from the quiet scenes of home, 
 and launch forth upon perilous adventures. It is well that it should be so. 
 Nature has implanted this desire in young hearts, because the world has 
 use for them. Many fall by the wayside perish miserably through perils 
 by jea and perils by land : others, with broken constitutions and blasted 
 hopes, crushed by poverty and wasted by disease, eke out a miserable exist 
 ence ; yet the race, as a whole, is benefited. 
 
 Of this unfortunate class, I am one. A little more knowledge, in my 
 start in life, would not only have saved me much suffering, but would have, 
 probably, preserved to this day some quite respectable gentlemen of Mex- 
 co, whom I, in the way of business in that country, assisted in gathering to 
 their fathers. By my early ignorance, doubtless, you can here, at this late 
 period, obtain a knowledge, of the life of the American Soldier, including a 
 glimpse at some of the ugly shadows that are cast athwart it. 
 
 My name is C. M. REEVES. You never before heard of it it is unknown 
 to fame. The French have a proverb, that " the world never knows its 
 great men." This is certainly a consolatory axiom to such of us as know 
 the world better than it knows us. I was born in the. year 1825, in Trum- 
 bull County, Ohio, and nineteen years after, viz: on the 9th day of Decem 
 ber, 1844, descended from a stage-coach before the Monongahela House at 
 Pittsburgh, entered the clerk s office, and wrote my name on the hotel 
 register. Between these dates, I had passed from an infant into the suc 
 cessive developments necessary to constitute a raw youth, with nineteen 
 years only of rural experience. 
 
 My business at Pittsburgh was to enlist in the army. I had never seen 
 any of the soldiers of the United States, and was under the impression that 
 the army was composed of the elite of the country that none were taken 
 
 (429^ 
 
430 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 into the service, but gentlemen, fine, straight, good-looking Americans. So 
 much was my mind exercised upon what the good qualities of men must 
 be, that I greatly feared, upon being examined, I should not equal the requi 
 site standard. 
 
 At the hotel, I took a room with a fire, and ordered up my baggage, con 
 sisting of an ancient hair-trunk, which contained a few quite common arti 
 cles of personal clothing. This was a first-class house and was crowded 
 with guests, and as my attire was seedy, I expect I was the most plainly 
 dressed of any in that numerous family. On retiring to my room, I thor 
 oughly overhauled my pockets, and was astonished to find that I only had 
 just thirteen cents ! Well, here was a dilemma. Ho\v was I to settle my 
 bill with that money ? My brain was so active with the project of enlist 
 ing, that I slept poorly, and arose very early next morning. While stand 
 ing by the stove in the office, I observed that the clerk surveyed me very 
 attentively. Thinks I, you look as if you suspect I am about to slip off 
 without settling my bill. I walked out, still under the discomfort of his 
 sharp vision, until I turned around a corner of the street. I was in search 
 of the recruiting rendezvous, which I soon found. 
 
 The sergeant saluted me very blandly, and invited me in to see the men 
 drill. When they were through, he took his seat beside me, and inquired 
 if I wished to enlist ? I replied, " Yes." "Very well," he rejoined; " have 
 you considered the consequences of such a step?" On my answering in 
 the affirmative, he continued, "Well, as soon as the lieutenant comes in, 
 you shall be enlisted." He then went on to state what the pay of a soldier 
 was, his clothing, rations, etc. When the lieutenant entered, I was duly 
 enlisted, and all the papers made out. From thence, the sergeant took me 
 to the garrison, a mile above the city, to be examined by the surgeon and 
 sworn into the service by a magistrate. I had some delicacy in divesting 
 myself of my clothing, and standing naked for the inspection of the medi 
 cal gentleman. I passed through the ordeal, however, and before night was 
 an American soldier, sworn to serve for the term of five years in the army 
 of the United States. 
 
 A recruiting rendezvous is generally under the charge of a lieutenant and 
 a sergeant. The duty of the latter is to instruct the candidate in all the 
 particulars of the service, so that, if he should subsequently repent of it, he 
 can have no excuse. By the regulations, none are to be enlisted while in 
 toxicated, but, as a general thing, no sooner does a man make his appear 
 ance at a rendezvous, than the sergeant showers upon him a torrent of ful 
 some flattery, takes him to the nearest grog-shop, and pours whisky down 
 his throat until hi* patriotism is at the flood, and then he is ready to " Mist." 
 This is one of the reasons why so many of the very lowest foreigners enter 
 our army, to the exclusion of a better class of men. 
 
 The first night s experience as a soldier, is undying in my recollection. I 
 do not believe I slept one hour. I lay in my coarse soldiers bunk, covered 
 with but a single blanket, shivering with the cold, and brooding over all tho 
 mishaps of my short life. I did not like the way things opened to me, 
 being sadly disappointed in the kind of men taken into the service, in the 
 clothing, rations, etc. In fact, nothing was as I had preconceived. A fore 
 boding sense of doing something wrong passed over me ; I felt as though I 
 
OF AMERICANS. 431 
 
 had forfeited, in a great measure, that inestimable boon to all Americans 
 liberty ! and that I had subjected myself to the authority of those above, 
 whom to obey would be degradation, and for this there was no remedy. 
 After following up this train of thought for awhile, I would chase away the 
 phantoms by the reflection, that I would bo occupying an honorable posi 
 tion the " military glory," so to speak, would buoy me up. I thought too, 
 that the army would be a good school to me ; that if I did not find every 
 thing to my mind, I would be fully compensated by the knowledge I should 
 gain of human nature and the world. In the morning, I awoke, feeling 
 very bad from the loss of sleep. Our breakfast consisted of weak coffee, 
 baker s bread, and a few slices of ham no butter, no milk for coffee, and 
 no kind of vegetables. With the exception of bean-soup or potatoes some 
 times at dinner, this was all the variety of diet we had at the rendezvous. 
 
 After breakfast, I had issued to me my first year s clothing. The next 
 thing was to dispose of my citizen s clothing. John, the cook, introduced 
 me to an old man, who kept a pawn-broker s shop, and bought and sold 
 cast-off clothing. I bundled up my relics, passed them over to him, and 
 got him to go with me to the Monongahela House for my trunk. Here he 
 paid my bill, which was one dollar and fifty cents, seized one end of the 
 trunk to help me out with it, when the clerk, who had scrutinized me so 
 attentively, called out in ringing tones, " Young man, what under heavens 
 have you enlisted for why have you thrown yourself away ?" I muttered 
 something in reply that it was "my business." "Come on!" called out 
 the old man, pulling at the other end of the trunk. " You hare entirely 
 ruined yourself," continued the clerk ; " you had better have gone down to 
 a steamboat, and worked for your daily bread." " Come on !" again shouted 
 my companion, getting out of patience, and dragging me and the trunk out 
 of the door, from whence we made for his dingy shop as fast as possible. 
 
 On returning to my quarters, I sat down on a bench and gave myself up 
 to reflection. The words of the hotel clerk rang in my ears ; I saw how 
 completely I had deceived myself that as a soldier of the United States, 
 \ was but little better than a slave, and with the most abandoned and dis 
 gusting of men as associates. I thought of my home in Ohio. Would I 
 ever see the faces of the loved ones again ? 
 
 I was the eighth of that " batch " of recruits. The term " batch " is ap 
 plied to any number of recruits collected and sent together to a military 
 depot. Two others were afterward added. Seven of this batch were 
 Irish ; one was a German, and two only Americans. The Irish were as 
 filthy, debased, and illiterate creatures as could be got out of a whole ship 
 load of paupers ; they were useless save to pour down bad rum and to 
 quarrel eventually, all of these either deserted or were dishonorably dis 
 charged. The German was a dirty, lazy lout, of whora I shall again speak. 
 Keller, the other American, was a six-foot Pennsylvania!,, who, like my 
 self, had taken a resolution not to drink liquor while in the army. A mu 
 tual separation ensued between us two and the others, and, as a natural 
 consequence, a common enmity arose. The drunkards became very much 
 enraged against us, for not joining in with them in stealing and smuggling 
 liquor into the quarters, and swore revenge on the " spalpeens of Ameri 
 cans ;" they never attempted anything but once, however, when, in a des 
 
432 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 perate fight, we teetotallers came off victorious. In their drunken orgie^ 
 they broke the furniture, yelled and laughed, and with demoniac expres 
 sions on their countenances, reminded me forcibly of a description I onca 
 read of fiends just emerging from pandemonium, to visit our earth and ter 
 rify and torment mankind. 
 
 On January 18th, we learned we were to leave en the next day for New 
 port (Ky.) Barracks, there to join a large number of recruits ; from thence 
 the whole were to be dispatched to supply a deficiency in the Fourth In 
 fantry, at Camp Salubrity, on Upper Red River, in Louisiana. I cheerfully 
 packed up my things, and, as I had on my new, neatly-fitting suit, was, and 
 it is not saying much, the best-looking man of the batch. Our Irish and 
 the German were perfectly content with their bungling garments in any 
 shape. 
 
 As we were paraded in front of the quarters next morning, some of the 
 boys of Pittsburgh and worse cannot be found anywhere gathered about 
 us by dozens, and followed us to the steamer, all the while yelling out at 
 the top of their voices, " Here s the dirty sogers !" " Soger, will you go to 
 work ?" Then they would answer the question themselves, " No, I 11 sell 
 my shirt first !" " Here, dirty soger ; going to be shot at and missed, eh !" 
 " What s the price of whisky, soger ?" etc. And thus they kept it up, 
 hooting at us as though we were a gang of thieves on the way to a jail. I 
 am naturally " thin skinned," and what were my emotions on this occasion, 
 the reader may guess. 
 
 Out West, when they wish to express contempt for any person, they say, 
 " he s a miserable stern-wheel affair." The boat we were put upon was the 
 Queen, and one of the worst of even stern-wheel steamers. She was an 
 " old tub," and very dirty. We were put on deck ; a great portion of her 
 weather- boarding had been torn off, letting in the cold and snow. A barrel 
 of biscuit was set on board. This was to constitute our provision until we 
 reached Newport no coffee, no meat, and no place to cook any if we had 
 it. " Well," thought I, " Uncle Sam, you are quite a generous old fellow, 
 after all !" Once, the sergeant condescended to come down from the cabin, 
 to see how we were getting along. To our inquiries, if we had been left to 
 starve, he replied, that " the lieutenant allowed a barrel of bread was enough 
 for us 1" We had the gracious privilege of an old stove, and plenty of 
 wood. At night, we slept on some pork barrels, which we packed around 
 the stove, and thus managed to keep from freezing. I confess, I felt as if I 
 was an outcast from society a criminal on his way to some penal colony. 
 
 We remained at Newport three days. As this is a general recruiting sta 
 tion, sixty-five recruits were ready to go on with us. All were again sub 
 jected to a rigid examination by the surgeon at the post. The whole were 
 simultaneously ordered to undress 3*1 the large sleeping-room of the bar 
 racks. No sooner said than done a hundred, nearly, of the genus homo, 
 of the masculine gender, stood forth, ready to undergo the scrutinizing ex 
 amination of the medical inspector. After leaping over benches, jumping 
 around, stooping down, raising up one arm, and then the other, as was com 
 manded, our examiner began to thump us in the breast, and beat us all over 
 the person, as though we were some new kind of drums. He also looked 
 into our mouths, examined our teeth, and, in short, did evervthing but turn 
 
OF AMERICANS. 433 
 
 us inside out. Finding no defects, he pronounced us able-bodied men, and 
 ordered us to dress. So ended this degrading scene. 
 
 With three exceptions, I never suffered so much from hunger as while at 
 this post. Take a man from citizens life to that of the soldier, and his 
 powers of endurance will be most effectually tried, especially if, like my 
 self, he be at the time young and growing. This deprivation of the food 
 that government had provided, was owing to the rascality of the first ser 
 geant of the barracks, who, having the management of the business, with 
 held our full rations, in order that he might save the flour, beans, sugar and 
 coffee for his own purposes. I saw some poor recruits selling their spare 
 clothing to the old soldiers, and then running to the grocery to buy addi 
 tional provisions. 
 
 We left Newport for New Orleans on the steamer Champion. As deck 
 passengers, we were allowed to go on the hurricane-deck, where I passed 
 whole days in gazing upon the river scenery. Upon the great " Father of 
 Waters," I was especially delighted with the glorious panorama, and felt 
 sorry when evening came to shut out the scene. Often, however, I would 
 remain until late at night, scarcely knowing which most to admire, the gor 
 geous starry vault above, or the broad placid Mississippi, hedged in on both 
 sides by the dark and silent forests, and flowing in ever- varying majestic 
 curves on its return home to the gulf. 
 
 The recruits were under the immediate charge of Crosby, an old soldier, 
 and a complete scamp. He kept back from us our full allowance of rations, 
 that he might sell the surplus at New Orleans, as we subsequently learned. 
 Some of our men discovered and slyly tapped a barrel of whisky with a 
 gimlet, and, until found out, sucked away at the vile stuff. For two or 
 three days, I had observed some of my comrades cooking and eating eggs, 
 very freely. Not being in the secret, I was envious of their good fortune in 
 having the means to purchase such a luxury, which I supposed they had 
 done at some of the landings on the river. On one of these occasions, I 
 stood gazing at a soldier enjoying himself over a large dish, my mouth 
 fairly watering over the scene, for our slim fare had put my stomach on the 
 " qui vive," most anxiously hoping he would invite me to share with him 
 when he said, "Reeves, why don t you cook yourself some eggs? real 
 nice, old fellow !" " Humph !" I answered, " if I only had the money to 
 buy them." " Why, God bless you, man !" he rejoined, "you don t want 
 any money ; take them like the rest only be sly about it, or you may be 
 caught !" " Where do you get them ?" I eagerly inquired. " There !" 
 continued he, pointing to a barrel that stood end-up amid a large number on 
 their sides ; " take your haversack (a bag for food), watch your opportunity, 
 slip along close to the wheel-house, and get as many as you can." " My 
 eye 1" I exclaimed, " and is that the way you have all got the eggs you 
 have been eating the past two days ?" It is only necessary to add, that the 
 collapsed state of my stomach blunted all my conscientious scruples, and ere 
 long I had a realizing sense of the efficacy of a good dish of fried eggs. 
 There was some swearing when that pilfering was discovered ; but no one 
 knew anything of it the soldiers had bought their eggs ! 
 
 At Vicksburgh, a Red River planter came on board with forty negroes. 
 The drunken soldiers, the smell of the poor darkeys, and the yelping and 
 
34: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 filth of the crew, were all horrible. The slaves would throw themselves 
 around the boilers the hands ditto ; soldiers would trample and stumble 
 over them ; negroes would growl, soldiers curse, and the hands yelp all 
 forming a most delectable scene. Poor Wilson, from Maryland, a slave 
 State, I pitied him from my whole heart ! for he was sick all the way 
 down, and to have to eat, drink, and sleep with a pack of cotton-field ne 
 groes, took him down effectually but he lived through it to see harder 
 times. Such is a soldier s life. 
 
 From New Orleans, we continued on up through wild and picturesque 
 scenery three hundred miles, to Grand Ecore, and then, by a march of three 
 miles, arrived one Sabbath afternoon at Camp Salubrity. Here, with twelve 
 others, I was assigned to company " B." Two of these, Wilson and Ins- 
 keep, were men for whom I had formed an especial liking, and whom I 
 shall have occasion again to mention. 
 
 Camp Salubrity was a collection of log-huts built by the soldiers, situated 
 in a rich rolling country, interspersed with dark gloomy forests of pine, and 
 well adapted to sugar and cotton. The original inhabitants, Spaniards and 
 French, werf giving way to an American population. The rnild climate 
 produces myriads of fleas, red-bugs, musquitoes and chamelions ; the latter 
 resembles our lizard in size and shape, is harmless, and occupies its time 
 mainly in fly-catching. W T e were much annoyed by the fleas ; these, how 
 ever, were a light affliction compared to the red-bug a sort of wood-tick 
 that buries itself in the flesh, causing an intolerable itching, rendered ten 
 fold more tormenting by scratching. The only alleviating remedy was to 
 grease well the parts affected. For awhile, every evening at camp, might 
 be seen men and women greasing for red-bugs, for when this was neglected 
 a sleepless night was certain to ensue. 
 
 Our army officers are mostly a meritorious set of men ; but, like all other 
 human beings, have their failings. No kind of breeding will make gentle 
 men of naturally coarse-grained men. Officers of this class are generally 
 tyrannical, and, as my experience taught me, almost invariably cowardly. 
 It would be thought degrading in an officer to be in the least familiar with 
 the men. He is never to address a soldier as Mr., but to use his surname 
 only. In addressing an officer, a soldier must always call him by his title, 
 and give the salute : his manner must be perfectly respectful and dignified, 
 and he is never to enter the presence of his superiors except on business. 
 Government designs that the officers should exercise a kind of fatherly care 
 over the men, and those who do so, and many there are of this sort, win 
 their love and gratitude. 
 
 All this is necessary to discipline. It is the same at sea with sailors and 
 their officers. I will digress to give an anecdote I once heard, as tending to 
 show how an act of condescension on the part of an officer astonishes an in 
 ferior. The late Lieutenant K. S. Woodward, of the revenue service, was 
 pacing the deck of his vessel, when a knife, dropped from above, passed 
 close by his head, and stuck quivering in the deck at his feet. The lieu 
 tenant reprimanded a sailor he saw aloft for his carelessness. He subse 
 quently ascertained he had blamed the wrong man. On the first opportu 
 nity, he asked his pardon in the presence of his companions. The man 
 was so flustered at such an unusual act on the part of his superior, that he 
 
OF AMEEICANS. 
 
 blushed and stammered to reply, but could not utter a word. An act like 
 this wins tho undying affection of the men, and they will follow such a 
 man to the last. 
 
 Many of the young graduates of West Point are perfect tyrants; but a 
 campaign of heavy marches, lying out at night, and undergoing other hard 
 ships, takes the wind out of the sails of these young gentlemen amazingly. 
 Often have I had my blood boil to hear some one of these youngsters, for 
 a mere trifle, order a gray-headed old soldier to undergo a most painful and 
 ignominious punishment ; yet there was no help for it to resist an officer 
 is A high crime, and to strike him, death. Tyrannical officers are hated like 
 reptiles. If one is so gross as to be beneath the respect of his men, the po 
 sition must be honored. Often have I heard soldiers, in speaking of such, 
 say : " It is not him that I respect, but Uncle Sam s cloth which he carries 
 on his shoulders !" 
 
 The washing for the men is done by laundresses, of which there are a 
 few to each regiment. These are generally soldiers wives, and usually pos 
 sess rather questionable characters. Many a pure young girl, having be 
 come enamored of a good-looking soldier, has left home and friends to 
 share his fortunes as a wife. For awhile she would continue a strictly chaste 
 and lovely woman ; but life in a camp is polluting temptations would 
 come, and in a few short years she would be changed into a bloated, sot- 
 tishly disgusting creature, too degraded for companionship with even the 
 lowest of men. After a recruit is turned to duty, " guard " is the first he has 
 to perform. In time of war, when near an enemy, it is the most responsible 
 of all situations, for the safety of a whole army often depends on the vigil 
 ance of a single sentinel. It is a great military crime for one to be found 
 Bleeping on his post. Certain matters connected with the duty of a sentinel 
 in standing post, require presence of mind : such as receiving aright the 
 officer of the day, facing in the right manner, promptly giving bis orders, 
 hailing at night, recollecting the countersign, of whom to demand it, etc. 
 Even old soldiers often get into trouble for allowing the officer of the day 
 to come up before he hails, etc. When I first mounted post, I was under 
 considerable trepidation lest I should blunder. As ill luck would have it, 
 Major Allen, the officer of the day, came unexpectedly toward me ; my 
 heart was in my mouth, I trembled like an aspen, but managed to receive 
 him aright. He asked, " What are your orders on this post, sir ?" Bless 
 my soul ! I could not utter a word, though I tried with all my might ; my 
 chin quivered ; my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth, and I stood 
 as mute as a dumb man. As it happened, the major was easy with the 
 men, and relieved me by inquiring. " if I was a recruit ?" My tongue then 
 obeyed me, and I answered, " Yes, sir." After admonishing me,, he turned 
 and left. 
 
 The next duty was " fatigue." Most of the time working parties were 
 sent into the woods, to make shingles and clapboards for repairing the quar 
 ters. When I came off guard, I was ordered into the woods, and went at 
 it with a will. One of the old soldiers saw me, and coming up, said, " That 
 will never do ; you must old soldier /" I asked him to explain. " You 
 must," continued he, " be awkward with the axe, and act as though you had 
 never chopped a stick in your life, otherwise these officers will kill you with 
 28 
 
436 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 work." I now " smelt a mouse," and saw why the other soldiers were, as 
 I had thought, lazy. I was ravenous that day, and could have eaten threo 
 times my rations. Since I had enlisted, I had not been satisfied with but 
 two or three exceptions. I often suffered from extreme hunger, and would 
 beg food from the cook or of some of the old soldiers who lived on whisky. 
 This working in the woods brought on untold pangs of hunger. Othera 
 uffered in the same way ; many is the time I have seen men seize a dirty, 
 mouldy biscuit that had been thrown away, and devour it with the eager 
 ness of starvation. And thus it was with me, until I actually got starved 
 down to a point that my full rations were sufficient. This was not under 
 two years. 
 
 While here most of the hard stock deserted, so that we finally got win 
 nowed down to a pretty repectable body of men. Lambert, the dirty Ger 
 man, tried to desert ; not being very sharp, he was caught and sentenced to 
 receive fifty lashes^ which were administered one Sunday afternoon. He 
 yelled most vociferously under the infliction, and was a much better soldier 
 afterward. 
 
 In June, two events occurred : I was made corporal, and our regiment, 
 the Fourth Infantry, was ordered to Texas, hostilities being threatened be 
 tween us and Mexico. We soon left for New Orleans, glad to escape from 
 that flea-bitten country, and, on our arrival there, were ordered into the bar 
 racks until the vessels should be ready. We were joined by the Third In 
 fantry, and Bragg s company of artillery, afterward so famous at Buena 
 Vista ; the whole under the command of General Taylor. 
 
 In the latter part of July, we embarked to cross the gulf to Texas. Tho 
 vessel which our regiment occupied was the Sophia, a slow sailer, very old, 
 and a mere hulk. Not a berth was put up, and we were obliged to sleep 
 on the decks, which were covered with filth. Our passage was a stormy 
 one, and the crowding of so many between decks, and the filth consequent 
 from so much sea-sickness, rendered it a very disagreeable voyage. 
 
 It was on the 15th of August, 184:5, when we arrived and encamped at 
 Corpus Christi. We remained there until the ensuing March. Corpus 
 Ohristi, i. e., Body of Christ, was a miserable village of a few huts onl} , a 
 mile or so south of the Nueces, and in a prairie country. By November, 
 from additions to our forces, we were four thousand and fifty strong. It 
 was the purpose of government to collect a large force here, to be ready for 
 any emergency ; but when we finally moved it had been reduced to a mere 
 skeleton, from disease and death, and other causes many sinking uuder 
 the dysentery owing to the unhealthiness of the country. 
 
 A kind of disease prevailed among many of the men here, which was 
 called moon-blindness. Its effects were very singular. Men laboring under 
 it would be stone blind when the moon was shining brightly, while at all 
 other times they possessed their sight as usual. The medical men could 
 not account for it. Like the yellow-fever, cholera, Tyler-gripe, or any 
 other epidemic, the characteristics, and not the cause of the disease, aro 
 ever known. Our camp was on a shell bank, and in hot weather the rays 
 of the sun were reflected upon our persons by the shells with such in 
 tensity, that at times it seemed as if we should suffocate. The skin of the 
 dark complexioned men became tanned, while that of the light complex- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 437 
 
 ioned men peeled off; and the whole army grew of almost negro blackness. 
 Having a light skin, my face peeled, and I presume I shed the skin off my 
 lips, cheeks and tip of the nose fifty times. This continued peeling at last 
 changed into a continuous sore many being seen going round with patches 
 f paper on their faces. 
 
 I never witnessed such severe thunder storms as here. A sentinel while 
 ne day walking his post with fixed bayonet was struck, his musket broken, 
 the barrel twisted like an augur-bit, and, strange to say, the man was not 
 killed. We lived in tents, and ours were old ones which, having been worn 
 out in the Florida war, let in water like seives. We suffered terribly in the 
 winter season from the cold rains and cutting winds. 
 
 I must relate a little incident that occurred while here, in which one of 
 our drummer boys and General Taylor were concerned. This boy, Tatnall, 
 by name, was often tipsey, and when so, uncontrollable in his propensity for 
 practical jokes. A little after dark one evening, old Zack was sitting in 
 his marquee, when Tatnall came along unperceived by any of the officers, 
 and, being on a spree, was, as usual, on mischief bent ; so he out with his 
 knife, and rip, rip, went the cords of the general s tent, and before he had 
 time to escape, down it went burying him in its folds. Tatnall then ran 
 away at full speed. As Taylor s orderly was absent, when he had crawled 
 out he came over to Garland s tent, where I was stationed as orderly, and 
 got me to go with a detail of men and put things to rights. This being 
 done and my men dismissed, he inquired of me, " if I knew anything of 
 the fellow that did it ?" Now, I had seen the whole transaction, and when 
 Tatnall ran, he passed so near me that I recognized him. Not wishing to 
 expose him, I evaded the question. " General, I did see some one run 
 but the night is so dark that it is almost impossible to distinguish a man." 
 The scoundrel 1" exclaimed old Zack, "if I knew who it was, I would 
 pull his ears sorely." And this was all that was said about it by that easy 
 tempered old gentleman. 
 
 Time passed wearily at Corpus Christi hard duty and plenty of it ; a 
 soldier must take things patiently, and, like a machine, cannot move except 
 at the bidding of a master hand. We were glad when the order came to 
 break up and march to the Rio Grande. We moved in two divisions : that 
 of Twiggs on the 8th, and Worth s on the llth of March, 1846. Our regi 
 ment was in the latter division. This was my first march, and also that of 
 a large part of the troops. The first day was one of incredible fatigue to 
 me, for I had on an ill-fitting pair of shoes, so that my feet were soon badly 
 blistered, and I was also detailed to watch a soldier who was so beastly drunk 
 that he required constant help. At night I was so lame and sore that I 
 could not stir without excruciating pain. Thinks I, if this is the way it is 
 to be, I will never get through ; I shall d ie with misery ! 
 
 The soldier usually carries on a march, his musket, weighing fourteen 
 pounds ; cartridge-box, if filled with ball, eight pounds ; which, with belts, 
 bayonets, scabbard, haversack, etc., in all make a weight of about twenty -six 
 pounds. Aside from these, is his knapsack, with overcoat, blanket and change 
 cf clothing, which brings up the total burden to over forty pounds. Generally 
 we managed to get our knapsacks taken into the baggage wagons. A soldier on 
 the march is bound up by his belts like a barrel, the cool air cannot circulate 
 
435 ADVENTURES AtfD ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 under his thick woolen clothes, for he is not in a situation to throw open 
 his coat to the bracing grateful breeze. We found the large men were the 
 first to break down on a march. The light delicate fellows, that a stranger 
 in such matters would suppose would be the first to give out, were the very 
 men to move with the most rapidity, carry the greatest burdens, stand the 
 longest marches, and endure the greatest hardships. It is on the principle 
 seen through all nature strength never increases in proportion to weight. The 
 man who weighs two hundred pounds has eighty pounds more to carry than 
 one who weighs one hundred and twenty, yet his strength to carry that in 
 crease is by no means in a like proportion. Small sized men for a cam 
 paign are always best. 
 
 When it comes to that especial duty for which soldiers are created, viz : 
 fighting, a man should be, if possible, unincumbered, as much so as a laborer 
 in a harvest field. How would it look for a farmer to order his hands upon 
 his entrance into his fields of grain, to put on heavy woolen clothes ; then to 
 button them up to the throat over a thick leather stock, or dog collar ; then 
 to strap over these a parcel of belts ; then, again, to pack all their clothing 
 into a knapsack, and strap this on their backs ? How much work would he 
 get out of them ? Yet this is precisely the way that a soldier has to do. 
 Fighting in battle is the most laborious work that ever fell to the lot of mor 
 tal man, and it would seem as if one should be dressed accordingly. Sailors, 
 who are differently situated, when they board an enemy s vessel, often strip 
 everything but their trowsers. 
 
 The country between the Nueces and the Kio Grande is mostly prairie. 
 One day we were entirely out of water. The part of the prairie we then 
 marched over had been burnt by the Indians, and a fine, suffocating dust 
 arose from the ashes and sand, which got into our mouths and nostrils, and 
 added to our sufferings. Several dogs belonging to the officers perished for 
 want of water, and it was feared that some of the horses would likewise 
 die. In the midst of our choking thirst it seemed as if the fates had turned 
 against us. About noon, when man and beast were nearly exhausted, we 
 came in sight of two small and beautiful lakes. " Thank God ! " " Good ! 
 Good !" " Now, we 11 drink !" was shouted out by the poor men, as each 
 company and division camo in sight of those glorious sheets "Water! 
 water ! " was the cry ; and as it passed to the rear, " Water ! my God ! 
 water!" was heard from a thousand dry and parched throats. The men 
 began to quicken their pace ; they broke their ranks in their haste to get to 
 the delicious liquid. The officers tried to preserve order ; but they might 
 as well have tried to have stopped a herd of wild buffaloes. Each man 
 rushed forward regardless of his neighbor, and ere they were within several 
 hundred yards of the lakes a thousand tin cups had suddenly been, un 
 strapped and fiercely clutched, ready to dip in the precious element. 
 
 On we go ; now we ascend the little hillock on the edge of the lake ; 
 down we rush madly, blindly, into the sparkling fluid, and jump in where 
 there will be no trouble to get our cups full. We dip we raise it hurriedly 
 and nervously to our mouths. Ye Gods ! we dr ! No we don t ! it choke* 
 us ; we can t swallow that stuff. " What in is that ? " said an old sol 
 dier, who in his hurry had let some go down, and ere he had spoken the 
 whole truth flashed on our minds. SALT ! yes, SALT ! and so much so 
 
OF AMERICANS. 439 
 
 that pure salt had collected on the edge of the lake. "Don t drink, men ! 
 don t drink !" shouted out those who had been bitten ; but they all had to 
 taste for themselves before they would believe. If those lakes had never 
 before been the cause of any profanity, I think that on this occasion they re 
 ceived their full share. What bitter curses were poured out upon them ! 
 We sullenly resumed our march, and moved on for about four miles when 
 we came to a hole of rain-water, full of animalculse, manure, etc. ; it tasted 
 to me most delicious, and I drank four cups, brim full, without stopping. 
 
 On the 18th, having overtaken Twiggs division, we arrived at the Colo 
 rado River. Some Mexican cavalry appeared on the opposite banks and 
 signified that any attempt to cross would be an act of hostility. After we 
 had got over, the whole army marched in battle array on the prairie, so as to 
 be ready for those southern gentlemen should they be desirous of giving us 
 a brush. I was peculiarly impressed by a singular kind of "fruit," that was 
 here to be found in the chaparral ; large quantities of human skulls had 
 been picked up by people traveling through, and hung on the bushes. 
 These were skulls of whites and Indians that had lost their lives in the con 
 tinual warfare going on here from time immemorial. The skull of many a 
 wealthy old Spaniard, that had lost its vitality by having been carried by its 
 owner too far from home, graced the limb of some musqueet tree. 
 
 On the 28th of March, we arrived opposite Matamoras, and planted the 
 United States flag on the banks of the Rio Grande. The next day, a depu 
 tation of Mexican officers, dressed like peacocks, came over, and a conference 
 was held as to the objects in advancing the army. They threatened to fire 
 upon us if we did not leave, hence it became necessary to fortify our posi 
 tion, and Fort Mansfield, afterward called Fort Brown, was built. The 
 country people began to come in with eggs, milk, bread, chickens, and a 
 liquor called " Muscal," and with them some spies. Numerous guerrilla 
 parties scoured the country, so that it became dangerous for single men or 
 small parties to leave the camp ; these bands of prowling Mexicans were 
 mostly banditti. The chief quarter-master, Colonel Cross, was killed by 
 Mexicans, one afternoon, a little outside of camp. A few days later, a detail 
 of men went out on a scout under Lieutenant Porter, when a heavy rain 
 coming on rendered their flint-lock muskets useless ; they fell into an am 
 buscade of lancers who killed one man outright and mortally wounded 
 their lieutenant. Our men tried to fire, but not a musket would go off; the 
 lancers seeing their situation charged upon them, and they, panic-stricken, 
 ran, paying no attention to the cries of Porter for assistance. A more fright 
 ened set of men I never saw than were those when they entered the camp. 
 In their flight they were separated, and came straggling in one after another, 
 and no two of them told the same story. Poor Porter was afterward found 
 weltering in his blood, stabbed in more than a dozen places. On the 24th 
 of April, Thornton s company of dragoons were attacked, sixteen killed, and 
 the rest made prisoners. Three days later, the camp of Captain Walker s 
 Texan Rangers was surprised. 
 
 All kinds of rumors were now afloat about the strength and position of 
 the enemy, and curious lights were continually to be seen during the night 
 at Matamoras ; rockets were sent up, bugles sounding, drums beating, etc. 
 Our men knew that we should soon have a fight, but they were calm and 
 
440 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 cool ; a careless unconcern appeared to be the pervading feeling in that 
 little array. 
 
 Throwing a garrison into Fort Brown, General Taylor, on the 1st of May, 
 broke up the camp and started with the whole army for Point Isabel, to 
 bring up a large depot of provisions to the fort ; we arrived there the suc 
 ceeding forenoon, and were set to work building entrenchments, while Cap 
 tain May and other officers were sent out to scour the country between the 
 Point and the fort, to ascertain if possible where the enemy were lurking ; 
 some parties were detailed to load up teams, and the rest worked on the 
 entrenchments. For my part, I felt as if I had as lief fight as not others 
 were like me ; for with hard work on the trenches, marching and losing 
 sleep, and living on bread and meat that was unfit for a dog, I became as 
 careless and cross as need be. 
 
 On Sunday morning, May 3d, about reveille, boom ! boom ! came down 
 from the direction of Fort Brown. "What s that?" exclaimed a multi 
 tude of voices at once. For the first time there was considerable excite 
 ment ; the officers and men respectively gathered in groups. It was at the 
 time scarcely believed to be, as it in truth was, a fight at the fort. The next 
 day a party of dragoons galloped into camp, bringing the report that a large 
 body of Mexicans were advancing on the prairie. The drum beat to arms, 
 and the troops paraded ; but it proved a false alarm. 
 
 On the 7th, the army set out on its return to Fort Brown, and after pro 
 ceeding about seven miles, we encamped beside a pond, where the musque- 
 toes and rattle-snakes were so plenty that we could not sleep. The next 
 morning we resumed our march, calculating to get through if nothing pre 
 vented ; but about noon, the dragoons brought intelligence that the enemy 
 were in force in front. "Now we ll have it, boys !" said the men ; and, I 
 must confess, I felt a sudden thrill at this intelligence. General Taylor in 
 a few minutes ordered a halt beside a pond of water, for the men to fill their 
 canteens. 
 
 Here we got our first view of the enemy. " Look ! look ! Oh ! look at 
 them!" cried several at once. "My stars! what a host!" exclaimed 
 others. We now advanced slowly in order of battle, occasionally halting, 
 until we were within a little over half a mile distant from them. Their 
 appearance was exceedingly grand : directly in front stood their infantry, 
 with here and there an interval of artillery their bright brass guns reflect 
 ing the rays of the sun. On each side, stretching over the prairie, was their 
 cavalry, with a host of sharp-pointed, bright-shining lances with their pen 
 dants of red and blue. Vast masses of infantry, in rear of their front line, 
 were moving into different positions for the coming fray, and their field- 
 officers were galloping up and down, giving out their respective orders. 
 When all was completed, their army stood perfectly still ; their right rest 
 ing on a dense thicket of chaparral, and their left stretching across the road, 
 and protected at the end by a swamp. Their whole line was about one 
 mile in length ; they had eleven field-pieces and about six thousand men. 
 It was an awe-inspiring spectacle those Mexicans on the field of Palo 
 Alto. 
 
 Now let us look at our little .army. Our regiments, from sickness and 
 other causes, had not over one-half of the usual number of men, and hero 
 
OF AMERICANS. 441 
 
 we were on the day of battle in a miserably weak condition. The company 
 to which I belonged, " B," had only sixteen bayonets. We had nine regi 
 ments, and they numbered, officers and all, but a little over twenty-two 
 hundred men ; but there was a self-reliance among them that seemed to 
 augur success. No boasting was heard, none expressed a desire to have a 
 brush with the enemy ; good soldiers never boast of what they are going to 
 do or have done, nor speak in terras of derision of their enemy. I have 
 heard boasting braggarts, with oa^hs, swear "I 11 fix em! I ll put them 
 through !" and then, when A >he balls were flying thick and fast, I have seen 
 these same men hide in ditches or behind rocks, crying like children. Good 
 soldiers feel as if they were in a situation that was disagreeable that they 
 had rather not be in such business, but a sense of duty impels them on a 
 strong sense of honor not to disgrace their country and flag. It is said that 
 a soldier is a mere mercenary machine : this is not so, for the more charac 
 ter and mind a man has the better is he as a soldier. In our battles in 
 Mexico, I believe that the enemy would have been as thoroughly beaten if 
 half the officers had been absent. It was a knowledge of the material of 
 his army that led General Taylor to say to General La Vega, that " all his 
 men were generals." Each man went into and fought a battle as though 
 everything depended upon his individual exertions ; and it is this sentiment 
 that nerves men to invincibility. It is very common to say that this officer 
 did so and so that officer took such a battery when, in truth, in nine cases 
 out of ten, the whole business was done ere they came up, and they had to 
 walk over the dead bodies of their own soldiers before they could claim the 
 honor. " To him that hath, much shall be given," peculiarly applies in 
 such cases. 
 
 General Taylor, for simple hard fighting, was an excellent officer, but he 
 knew little of tactics, rarely put any military evolution in practice, and had 
 not the confidence of the army like Worth and Scott. In this battle we 
 had two light batteries Ringgold s and Duncan s of four pieces each, and 
 two eighteen-pound iron guns, under the command of Lieutenant Churchill, 
 and the battle was mainly fought with artillery. The eighteen-pounders 
 were on the right of our regiment, which was near the center of our line ; I 
 was on the extreme left of the regiment. Churchill s guns were each drawn 
 by two yoke of oxen. A Texan boy drove one of the teams ; as we were 
 coming into position his coolness was remarkable, and his talk to his oxen 
 amusing. "Go along, buck !" he said, "if you re killed, you are fat and 
 will make good beef." When all was ready, both armies stood still for 
 about twenty minutes, each waiting for the other to begin the work of death, 
 and during this time, I did not see a single man of the enemy move ; they 
 stood like statues. 
 
 We remained quiet with two exceptions ; General Taylor, followed by 
 liis staff, rode from left to right at a slow pace, with his right leg thrown 
 over like a woman, and as he passed each regiment, he spoke words of en 
 couragement. I know not what he said to the others, but when he came 
 *ip to where we stood, he looked steadily at us ; I suppose, to see what effect 
 the circumstances in which we were placed had upon us, and, as he gazed, 
 he said: "The bayonet, my hardy cocks! the bayonet is the thing!" The 
 >ther occasion was that of Lieutenant Blake, of the Engineers, who volun- 
 
M2 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 teered to gallop along the enemy s line, in front of both armies, and count 
 their guns ; and so close did he go, that he might have been shot a hundred 
 times. One of the officers of the enemy, doubtless thinking he had some 
 communication to make, rode out to meet him ; Blake, however, paid no 
 attention to him, but rode on, and then returned and reported to Taylor. 
 
 Thus stood those two belligerent armies, face to face. What were the 
 feelings of those thousands ! How many thoughts and fears were crowded 
 into those few moments ! Look at our men ! a clammy sweat is settled all 
 over faces slightly pale, not from cowardly fear, but from an awful sense of 
 peril combined with a determination not to flinch from duty. These are the 
 moments in which true soldiers resign themselves to their fate, and console 
 themselves with the reflection that whatever may befall them they will act 
 with honor ; these are the moments when the absolute coward suffers more 
 than death when, if not certain he would be shot in his tracks, he would 
 turn and flee. Fighting is very hard work ; the man who has passed 
 through a two hours fight, has lived through a great amount of mental and 
 physical labor. At the end of a battle I always found that I had perspired 
 so profusely as to wet through all my thick woolen clothing, and when I 
 had got cool, I was as sore as if I had been beaten all over with a club. 
 When the battle commences, the feelings undergo a change. Reader, did 
 you ever see your house on fire ? if so, it was then you rushed into great 
 danger; it was then you went over places, climbed up walls, lifted heavy 
 loads, which you never could have done in your cooler moments ; you then 
 have experienced some of the excitement of a soldier in battle. I always 
 knew my danger that at any moment I was liable to be killed, yet such 
 was my excitement that I never fully realized it. All men are not alike ; 
 some are cool ; some are perfectly wild or crazy ; others are so prostrated 
 by fear that they are completely unnerved an awful sinking and relaxation 
 of all their energies takes place, pitiable to behold ; they tremble like an 
 aspen, slink into ditches and covert places, cry like children, and are totally 
 insensible to shame dead to every emotion but the overwhelming fear of 
 instant death. We had a few, and but a few, of such in our army. 
 
 As the two armies were facing each other, it was remarkable to see the 
 coolness of our men ; there they stood, chewing bits of biscuit, and talking 
 about the Mexicans some wondering if they would fight ; others allow 
 ing that they would, and like demons, etc. I kept my eye on the artillery 
 of the enemy, and happened to be looking toward their right-wing, when 
 suddenly a white curl of smoke sprang up there from one of their guns, and 
 then I saw the dust fly some distance in front where the ball struck. In 
 stantly another, and then another rich curl of smoke arose, succeeded by a 
 booming sound, and the shot came crashing toward us. The enemy fired 
 very rapidly, and their balls knocked the dust about us in all directions 
 some went over our heads, others struck the ground in front and bounded 
 away. 
 
 Our batteries now went to work, and poured in upon them a perfect storm 
 of iron ; Lieutenant Churchill and his men began with his eighteen-poi.nd- 
 ers, and when the first was fired, it made such a loud report that our men 
 gave a spontaneous shout, which seemed to inspire us with renewed confi- 
 ence. I could hear every word the lieutenant said to his men. When the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 first shot was fired, he watched the ball, saying, " Too high, men ; tij an 
 other !" "too low, men ; try again the third time is the charm !" The 
 third shot was fired, and I saw with my own eyes the dreadful effect of tha 
 and the following shots. " That s it, my boys !" shouted Churchill, jump 
 ing up about two feet; "you have them now! keep her at that!" and so 
 they did, and every shot tore complete lanes right through the enemy s 
 lines ; but they stood it manfully. The full chorus of battle now raged ; 
 twenty-three pieces of artillery belched forth their iron hail. 
 
 We were ordered to lie down in the grass to avoid the shot ; this puzzled 
 the enemy, and they could not bring their guns to bear upon us, making our 
 loss very small. While in this position, a six-pound ball grazed the head 
 of Wickes, of G company, who yelled "I m killed!" Many were the 
 narrow escapes : one ball came within six inches of my left side. The 
 force of the shot was tremendous ; a horse s body was no obstacle at all ; 
 a man s leg was a mere pipe-stem. I watched the shot as it struck the roots 
 of the grass, and it was astonishing how the dust flew. In about an hour, 
 the grass caught on fire, and the clouds of smoke shut out the opposing 
 armies from view. We had not as yet lost a man from our regiment. In 
 the obscurity, the enemy changed their line, and the eighteen- pounders, 
 supported by our regiment, took a new position on a little rise of ground. 
 As we moved on to the spot, a six-pound shot carried away the lower jaw 
 of Captain Page, and then took off a man s head on the right, as clean as if 
 with a knife. The blood of poor Page was the first blood I saw ~ he was 
 knocked down in the grass, and as he endeavored to raise himself, he pre 
 sented such a ghastly spectacle that a sickly, fainting sensation came over 
 me, and the memory of that sight I shall carry with me to my dying day. 
 Corporal Howard was literally covered all over his back with the blood and 
 brains of private Lee s head, and Lieutenant Wallen, who was near Page, 
 had a tooth, either out of the head of Page or of Lee, driven clear through 
 the bac of his coat so that it pierced the skin ; he thought he was shot. 
 A little later, Major Ringgold was mortally wounded, at his battery ; I saw 
 him just after it. The shot had torn away a portion of the flesh of his 
 thighs ; its force was tremendous, cutting off both his pistols at the locks, 
 and also the withers of his horse a splendid steed which was killed to 
 relieve him. of his misery. The enemy tried hard, but without avail, to hit 
 our eighteen-pounders. The battle continued until night put an end to the 
 scene. We bivouacked where we were, and laid on our arms ; we slept, 
 however, but little, thinking that we might be attacked in our sleep. 
 
 During the battle, many were the remarks of the men upon its incidents; 
 when the balls began to whistle over our heads, one who was not very 
 bright sang out, "I declare, I believe they are firing balls!" This single 
 speech produced an explosion of laughter, and, afterward, we teased tho 
 fellow so about it that he almost hated himself. I was much amused at the 
 conduct of one of our men, by birth a Prussian, and from his actions it was 
 evident he had rather have been in Prussia than there. When a ball struck 
 near him he made some of the most accomplished of bows ; one shot, in its 
 wicked fancy, knocked a large mass of grass, with its roots and dust, plump 
 into his face and breast. Between the force of the sod and his fright, he 
 went pitching backward into a small water-hole ; I thought he was gon 
 
444 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 sure enough ; but presently he arose, pale and trembling, and when wo 
 saw he was unhurt, he was the subject of a hearty laugh. An officer, near 
 us, I noticed laboring under considerable excitement ; he was pale and 
 covered with perspiration, which, however, did not indicate any want of 
 bravery. A major in the vicinity of our position, was a subject of contempt 
 to the men ; he was evidently a sleepy, don t-care sort of a man, and had, it 
 seemed to me, but a poor idea of military tactics. I believe he did not 
 give or repeat a single order during the whole action ; for all the good he 
 did there, he might as well have been in New Orleans. Men would prefer 
 to see an officer do something either act bravely or cowardly this major 
 did neither ; but sat on his horse in a perfectly listless manner, and had no 
 control over his animal which followed along with the troops. I do not 
 know what he might have done had the horse taken a notion to desert ; 
 but of all the contemptible objects, he was the cap-sheaf he had not even 
 the ambition to draw his sword ; there he sat, his hands swinging by his 
 side, his eyes set, his mouth wide open, like a dolt. 
 
 The enemy had been very severely handled, owing to the superiority of 
 our ajtillery. The gunners went into it more like butchers than military 
 men ; each man stripped off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and tied his sus 
 penders around his waist ; they all wore red flannel shirts, and, therefore, 
 were in uniform. To see them limbering and unlimbering, firing a few 
 shots, then dashing through the smoke, and then to fire again with light 
 ning-like rapidity, partly hid from view by dense clouds of dust and smoke, 
 with their dark-red shirts and naked arms, yelling at every shot they made, 
 reminded me of a band of demons rather than of men. 
 
 On the morning of the ninth, the sun rose in splendor. The enemy hav 
 ing retired into the chaparral, we resumed our march toward the fort. On 
 arriving at the position the enemy had occupied the day before, the scene 
 was shocking ; here lay a beautiful black horse and rider, both dead ; a littlo 
 bevond was a heap of artillery-men horribly mangled, some entirely head 
 less, others with their bowels torn out, and again others with a leg or an 
 arm, sometimes both, shot away. One man, I noticed, had been shot in a 
 singular manner ; the ball must have bounded, and, as it was rising, struck 
 its victim about his right haunch, then passing up diagonally through his 
 body, came out under his left arm. The positions of the dead were in 
 many instances peculiar ; some in their death-agonies had caught with their 
 hands in the grass, and thus died ; some were in a kind of sitting posture: 
 the countenances of some were horribly distorted, others had a smile an 
 absolute laugh. The enemy had left behind a part of their wounded ; one 
 poor fellow who appeared to be quite intelligent, was badly wounded in the 
 ankle : when we came near him, he called out piteously, "Bueno Ameri 
 cano t Agua, Senor ! agua, Senor ! " Good American ! Water, sir ! water, 
 sir ! We ran and offered him our canteens, and gave him biscuit, for which 
 he appeared grateful. 
 
 Our advance guard had been through, and ascertained that the enemy 
 were posted at Resaca de la Palma, a few miles off. A ravine hertf crossed 
 the road, and on each side it was skirted with dense chaparral ; the ravine 
 was occupied by their artillery. We marched on the narrow road through 
 the chaparral toward their position. The battle commenced with those iu 
 
OF AMERICANS. 415 
 
 advance. The balls began to crash through the woods over our heads, when 
 our regiment deployed to the left and then to the right of the road, and ad- 
 vanced through the chaparral toward the enemy, whom we could not then 
 see. Lieutenant Haller called out, "Fourth and Fifth Infantry, charge!" 
 Both regiments responded with a cheer, and rushed on. In a few paces we 
 came to a small pond, and here I had my first chance for a shot at the 
 Mexicans, who were in line on the opposite bank, and were pouring their 
 balls right into our faces. The bushes screened all below their waists. I 
 kneeled down on my right knee, cocked my musket, and brought it to an 
 aim on the mass in front of me, making my first shot at the human family. 
 I fired four shots in this manner, the branches in the meanwhile dropping 
 off and the dust springing up all about me from the shot of my friends 
 across the little water. The word was then given to charge, and we dashed 
 into the water which took me about half-thigh deep ; .when in the middle, 
 a ball just grazed my right ear, and another struck a lieutenant by me in 
 the right arm. The Mexicans broke and ran, and we continued charging 
 along the pond until we came to where their guns were stationed. Here 
 our troops, of different regiments, got mixed up. The Mexicans fought 
 desperately, and many were slain. 
 
 When our infantry closed upon their artillery, some of our men were 
 killed by shot from Duncan s battery, which remained on the east side of 
 the ravine. The fight was now confined to this central position ; their guns 
 on the right and left of it having been taken. Here stood General La 
 Vega almost alone, his men having been shot down around him from the 
 combined effects of our infantry on the right and left, and Duncan s battery 
 in front. Just at this moment, when the infantry of all the regiments there 
 engaged rushed in upon La Vega s position, Captain May charged with 
 the dragoons who received the last gun that the enemy fired ; but before 
 the dragoons had got up, La Vega was captured with a large number of the 
 officers and men of the enemy. The dragoons charged clear past this point, 
 and having received a heavy volley from the enemy s infantry and cavalry 
 who were rallying beyond, May ordered a retreat. As he was returning, La 
 Vega, already a prisoner and held as such by the infantry, judging that May 
 was a superior officer, gave up his sword to him. Thus Captain May got 
 credit for what he never did, and thus drops into non-entity that great story 
 about May s charge, which in reality effected nothing. 
 
 After those guns were captured, about thirty of us went in pursuit of the 
 retreating enemy until we came upon an open space of, perhaps, two acres ; 
 here we found a large pack of mules arid the abandoned tent of General 
 Arista ; we stopped a moment, and then continued on the road until we 
 were charged by the lancers. Lieutenant Hays sang out, " They are too 
 strong for us, boys ! retreat 1 retreat !" which we did for a short pace, and 
 then faced the enemy. The lancers came down upon us, when we poured 
 in a volley which sent them back. Lieutenant Cochrane, instead of coming 
 on with us, ran behind a small clump of bushes on the opposite side of the 
 road, when a lancer rode up and deliberately lanced him. We reloaded, 
 and on they came again, headed by an officer mounted on a splendid white 
 horse. Some one sang out, "Shoot that man on the white horse!" We 
 poured in another volley, and down went both horse and rider, beside 
 
446 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 numerous others ; among them was the man that had killed Lieutenant 
 Cochrane. I went out and picked up his lance ; it was covered with the 
 blood of the poor lieutenant. At this moment came up our light artillery 
 and the dragoons, who pursued the enemy to the river where many were 
 drowned in crossing, and thus was ended the battle of Eesaca de la 
 Palma. 
 
 When the battle was over, I never heard such shouting as came from our 
 men ; they seemed nearly crazy with joy. I cannot describe my feelings 
 when I saw what a victory we had won. The next day we camped at Fort 
 Brown. We had left our knapsacks at the fort when we departed for Point 
 Isabel, and now many of our articles were missing; some men found 
 nothing, others not half of their things, and others more than they had left. 
 During the bombardment our knapsacks had been taken to hup build 
 bomb-proofs. I was at this time made sergeant. 
 
 Preparations were made to cross the Rio Grande into the enemy s country. 
 General Arista was in Matamoras, and we expected opposition to our land 
 ing. Our whole pontoon train consisted of one dilapidated old boat, and 
 where that came from I know not. It would carry just one company, and 
 ours was the one selected to cross first. On the morning of the 18th of 
 May the embarkation commenced. When we struck the Mexican shore 
 Captain Buchanan was the first man to set foot in Mexico, in the capacity 
 of conqueror, and I myself was the second. As soon as we got out, the boat 
 returned, and we posted ourselves in a cornfield, looking out for the enemy, 
 who, however, unknown to us, were then on the full retreat for Monterey ; 
 we, therefore, soon had quiet possession of Matamoras. 
 
 This was the tima that the enemy should have been followed up ; if our 
 politicians at Washington had possessed genuine energy, they would have 
 finished this war in half the time, and at less than half the expense of blood 
 and treasure that were actually incurred. We had then no means to advance, 
 and the enemy were given full leisure to recover from their stunning defeats 
 ere we were ready to do so. 
 
 While we were at Matamoras several men were sentenced, for various 
 offenses, by court-martial, to have their heads shaved, be dishonorably dis 
 charged, and drummed out of camp. One of them had very light, muddy- 
 colored hair; he was hired in the quarter-master s department, and after his 
 hair again grew, it was of a beautiful auburn color. 
 
 On the 17th of July we left for Comargo, one hundred and forty miles up 
 the river, which was made one of the depots, and afterward became memo 
 rable for a new invention in the science of military engineering the con 
 struction of a ditch inside of a breastwork. We lay there six weeks, wait 
 ing for reinforcements, and in the beginning of September continued our 
 march for Monterey. 
 
 We were badly off for means of trnsportation, owing to the neglect of 
 government, and were obliged to hire of our enemy. Sixteen hundred 
 muleteers with their mules were obtained, who entered our service in oppo 
 sition to the commands of their government, which had forbidden any of 
 their citizens from rendering aid and comfort to the "barbarians of the 
 north." We were proceeding to the strongly fortified position of Monterey 
 without any siege train ; one solitary mortar was the only gun we had heavy 
 
OF AMERICANS. 447 
 
 enough for this purpose, when we should have had at least a dozen. The 
 veriest booby in our army knew that government was sadly neglectful 
 of us. 
 
 Beyond Mier the scenery grew bold, and on ascending a high ridge, a sol 
 dier exclaimed, " We are going to have a heavy storm ! did you ever sea 
 such dark, heavy clouds ?" Above the western horizon appeared a heavy 
 mass of clouds, but I noticed a peculiar notch in those "clouds," which, as 
 We advanced, did not alter in shape. In an hour more we saw that our 
 clouds were mountains ; they were truly sublime, cutting their outlines 
 against the clear sky, like huge masses of indigo. Although seeming in our 
 vicinity, their nearest spur was more than seventy miles distant. 
 
 This country from time immemorial had been infested with banditti, and 
 along our route were immense numbers of crosses, reared by the relations of 
 murdered travelers, at the places where they had been slain. These crosses 
 were usually of wood, about four feet in height, with inscriptions neatly carved 
 upon them : some were venerable from age, and covered with moss. Here was 
 one whose inscription portrayed the virtues and untimely fate of a promising 
 young man ; there stood another to an aged father who, while on his way 
 to visit an only daughter, was met by ruffians, and not only robbed, but left 
 with his snowy locks weltering in gore. Again, a cluster of crosses met the 
 eye, the inscriptions setting forth that a party young men, old men, 
 women, and children while on their way to Matamoras to see their friends, 
 were met by a band of savages and killed. Those artificial flowers, tacked 
 to one of the crosses, were for the little child that was murdered with its 
 mother. At the foot of the crosses were heaps of small stones in some 
 cases, large piles each stone being the offering of some passer-by as a token 
 of respect. Bad as were those banditti, they never touched one of those 
 memorials, but on our return from Monterey, out of hundreds, I did not see 
 scarcely a dozen left; they had been used for fire-wood by our volunteers. 
 Protestants generally have anything but a reverence for the cross. 
 
 On a march a soldier is his own washer-woman, for which purpose soap is 
 issued to the men. I got so practiced in keeping myself in gear, that I 
 could march for any length of time without getting foot-sore. At every 
 opportunity I bathed my feet and washed my stockings in cold water, by 
 which I prevented the accumulation of perspiration, and so did not have a 
 single blister in all the way to Monterey. 
 
 We halted at Marin two days. Various rumors were afloat as to the 
 strength and intentions of the enemy at Monterey ; opinions were conflict 
 ing as to whether the Mexicans would make a stand there. General Tay 
 lor, as the result proved, was misinformed upon all these matters ; he did 
 not expect the resistance he met with. I had an opinion of my own, based 
 upon indications I never knew to fail. When at Marin the conduct of our 
 muleteers suddenly changed ; I saw them talking to their countrymen, and 
 I knew by their manner the way they shrugged up their shoulders 
 trouble was ahead. They, doubtless, ascertained the true state of affairs, 
 a^d did not want to go further, for they naturally supposed we should ba 
 beaten. From this I knew the enemy were strong ahead. I asked an honest- 
 faced old Mexican, at Marin, who seemed quite intelligent, whether or not 
 "mucho fandango, jpoco tiempo?" his answer was, ", senor; mucno /an- 
 
443 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 dango es la ultima en Monterey mucho muertos ! " which was : there would 
 be much fighting and many deaths. I never knew a Mexican to say that 
 there would be much fighting ahead, but his words were verified. Again, 
 if fighting was in store for us, the people would be shy and look as if they 
 despised us ; when otherwise, they flocked around with things to sell, and 
 acted in a confidential manner. 
 
 We again took up our line of march, and as we neared Monterey, the 
 volunteers were anxious "to see the elephant," and they crowded up at a 
 hurried paqe : but this anxiety was taken out of them in less than three 
 days. These ambitious young men made considerable noise ; cheering 
 when they saw some new object that indicated an enemy. They even 
 cheered as their general and staff-officers rode back and forth, and talked a 
 great deal among themselves. Our men and officers were much amused at 
 their enthusiasm. We felt serious in view of the bloody work in store for 
 us, as we knew from experience, that th.e terrors of the battle-field were too 
 awful a reality to be heedlessly entered into in the spirit of a grand frolic. 
 
 On the 19th of September, we arrived in the outskirts of Monterey and 
 camped at a place called Walnut Springs. The city is in the valley of San 
 Juan, and around it rise the lofty ridges of the Sierra Madre. Its natural 
 and artificial defenses were very strong. Two days previously, Taylor 
 wrote to the war department: "It is even doubtful whether Ampudia will 
 attempt to hold Monterey. His regular force is small say, three thou 
 sand eked out perhaps to six thousand by volunteers, many of them 
 forced." The truth was, the garrison numbered about ten thousand, of 
 whom seven thousand were regular troops ; so little did even General Tay 
 lor know of the facts in the case. The little army destined to attack this 
 strongly-fortified place was far inferior to the enemy. We had less than six 
 thousand seven hundred in all, half of whom were volunteers. 
 
 On the day succeeding our arrival, Sunday the 20th, Major Mansfield, 
 of the engineers, made a reconnoisance of the enemy s works ; the exami 
 nation, for some unknown reason, appears riot to have been sufficiently 
 thorough. General Worth was ordered to make a detour to the west end 
 of the city, and act as circumstances should dictate. That night our regi 
 ment was ordered under arms, and thinking we should return to camp in a 
 few hours, we went out without any provisions in our haversacks. We took 
 up our position about eleven hundred yards from the Black Fort. Here we 
 planted the ten-inch mortar and two twenty-four pound howitzers. No bed 
 was made for the mortar, nor was any breastwork thrown up for the protec 
 tion of the guns ; for we had not a single entrenching tool. There stood 
 those guns, exposed upon the open ground, to bombard a strong fort whose 
 lightest gun was much superior, and whose heaviest was enough to knock 
 ours to pieces. Some people may call this "military science ; " to us, com 
 mon soldiers, it seemed a farce. 
 
 Some time after daylight, our battery opened upon the fort ; we soon saw 
 we were too distant especially the mcrtar, which might as well have been 
 in Halifax, for every shell fell far short. Some of the twenty- fours shells 
 got into the fcrt, but I think they did not annoy the enemy much. In their 
 reply they did not deign to notice the mortar, directing all their attention to 
 the others* In about an hour a Mexican ball took off a leg from one of oui 
 
OF AMERICANS. 449 
 
 men above the knee ; lie died in a few minutes. Another struck and settled 
 one of our ammunition boxes, and this was the sum of damage to us. 
 
 It was well known that when General Worth attacked the north part of 
 the city, Taylor was to make a demonstration in his favor; that is, he was 
 to make a false attack on the east end, so as to draw the attention of the 
 enemy from Worth. By some "hocus-pocus" a real attack actually was 
 made a the east end, and, as I think, many valuable lives thereby need 
 lossly thrown away. 
 
 Well, about ten o clock, Twiggs division came down, took up a position, 
 and got into trouble it not being known there were any batteries on the 
 east side of the town. Garland advanced with his brigade near to the ene 
 my, when, suddenly, they poured in upon his men, from masked batteries, 
 such a perfect sheet of iron that they quailed before it. By this time, 
 Taylor and Twiggs were on the ground, and the former ordered down the 
 whole force, thinking that "the charge" would do everything. The result 
 was that our troops got into dreadful confusion ; some were here, some 
 there, volunteers and regulars all mixed up together some lying about this 
 fence, some in this ditch, and others behind that wall ; and for two or three 
 hours we were essentially whipped. Had the heavy body of lancers, that 
 were hovering about, done their duty and came down upon us, we should 
 have been all cleaned out to a certainty. A new vigor at length seemed to 
 inspire our troops, and they rallied and carried a fort and an old still-house 
 which h^l been fortified. Many valuable lives were thus foolishly lost ; the 
 colonel of the Baltimore battalion was killed, and after that, they seemed 
 completely panic-stricken. For a time that day, "confusion worse con 
 founded" reigned supreme; officers and all seemed to be laboring under 
 some hallucination.- Nobody knew what the orders were ; no officer gave 
 orders to retreat or to advance, and things were in a most deplorable con 
 dition. General Taylor himself labored under intense excitement ; he came 
 on the ground in the thickest of the storm, and gave orders to charge and 
 carry the works. The men did charge, but it was murder. 
 
 Finally, toward night, things began to assume a better face. Garland s 
 brigade, to which our regiment belonged, was ordered to hold the captured 
 works, and the rest of the troops were sent back to camp. In these works 
 Was an old sugar-house in which we found a quantity of sugar. At sun 
 down it came on to rain, and it rained profusely. That was one of the most 
 miserable nights I ever passed. We had had nothing to eat since the even 
 ing before. We had been out all night, and had been fighting all day, nor 
 was it until the next afternoon making, in all, about forty-eight hours 
 under arms that we had even a morsel except some sugar that had been 
 trampled under foot. 
 
 The next day a kind of skirmishing was kept up ; Taylor being content 
 to act upon the defensive. We also buried many of our officers and men. 
 I bid escaped thus far without a scratch, although I had several very nar 
 row escapes ; many poor fellows I saw laid low all about me. On the even 
 ing of this day, Ampudia surrendered the town. Worth with his division 
 had taken first the height above the Bishop s Palace, and then in turn the 
 palace itself, when the guns of both were turned upon the town below, of 
 

 450 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 which this was the key, and there was no alternative left but for the enemy 
 to surrender. 
 
 A few hours before the surrender, our regiment which held the captured 
 .works was relieved by a regiment of volunteers, and we were ordered into 
 camp at Walnut Springs. As we were moving on to the Springs, we came 
 under a flank fire of .sixteen- pounders and mortars throwing shells from 
 Tort Independence. One of this latter class of customers came near drop 
 ping on my head. I heard it in the air, and glanced my eye up to view it, 
 when, as I calculated, the gentleman was determined to scrape my acquaint 
 ance. I walked a few paces toward it, and when near, I dropped. With a 
 "zoap!" it came down, and exploding as it struck, bespattered me with 
 mud, as if in spite at having missed me. I arose and ran after the regiment, 
 which had got some distance ahead. We soon entered a cornfield, and so 
 accurate were the gunners of the distance we traveled in a given time, that 
 they sent their "pills" right among us at every discharge until we were out 
 of range. One of the balls caught a man of F company, and striking him 
 about the haunches, cut him entirely in two, so that his body fell between 
 his legs. Poor fellow ! he lived some few minutes ; it was a horrible sight 
 that mangled body lying in the dirt in the agonies of death. 
 
 Arrived at the camp our first desire was for something to eat. The com 
 missary, being out of hard bread, issued to us flour. What could a soldier 
 do with flour ? and that, too, without lard, butter, or shortening of any 
 kind. Necessity teaches. We mixed it with water in our mess-pans, and 
 took our spades that we had used for all purposes, and baked the " dab" on 
 them. It was a curious scene, that party of half-starved soldiers baking 
 flour "dodgers" on their company spades. I finally had mine so that I 
 could eat it, and ! ye god! I thought it the sweetest morsel I had ever 
 eaten in my life. 
 
 We remained some time at Monterey, and had much enjoyment there. 
 The Mexican people are very fond of music and dancing, and our men took 
 great delight in attending their fandangoes; the Mexican girls in this part 
 of the country are generally handsome, and formed the principal attraction 
 of these gatherings. 
 
 Among the incidents while there, was the murder of Lieutenant Ritchie, 
 of Cincinnati, which cast a gloom over all who knew him. He was at one 
 time attached to our company, and was a promising officer, unassuming and 
 modest. He had been sent on under an escort 0f dragoons, with dispatches 
 to General Taylor, who had moved forward to Saltillo with part of the 
 troops. At a ranche, called Villa Garra, half-way between the places, they 
 stopped a few moments to water, while. Ritchie, leaving word to his men, 
 rode slowly forward. On turning a corner just out of sight of his party, a 
 Mexican threw a "lariat" over his neck, dragged him from his horse, mur 
 dered him, took his dispatches, and started off to Santa Anna. When his 
 dragoons came up, there lay poor Ritchie, weltering in his blood, and his 
 horse was nibbling the grass on the roadside. They in vain made an effort 
 to overtake the assassin. It was evident Ritchie had been watched for some 
 time by the Mexican, for the opportunity he finally found. The capture of 
 those dispatches undoubtedly led to the battle of Buena Vista. 
 
 In December, the tidings were received that a part of the forces were to 
 
OF AMERICANS. 451 
 
 be sent to attack Vcra Cruz, under General Scott, and from thence to pro 
 ceed against the capital of the country. Our men were anxious to go ; it 
 was thought there would be warm work there ; this, however, was not the 
 reason they wanted to see the country, and get under Scott. It was soon 
 whispered that our regiment was to remain ; it was unfavorably received. 
 Personally, I felt so down-hearted that I made up my mind, in that event, 
 to change into the Third, so that I could go. About the 1st of January, 
 we received the good news that our regiment was to be sent, and, better 
 yet, that we were to be attached to the division under General Worth. Both 
 Scott and Worth were the choice of the whole army. The common soldier 
 is keenly alive to the qualities of his officers. It is remarkable how soon a 
 soldier discovers the capacities of his general. Worth had the respect and 
 love of his men ; they knew he would not needlessly sacrifice them, that 
 if he gave an order to storm a battery, or perform any other perilous duty, 
 it was just right, and they sprang to obey with alacrity. There was one 
 superior officer we would liked to have got rid of, for he did so hate to ex 
 pose his precious person to the enemy s pills that we regarded him with 
 profound contempt. Yet too many good things at once were not to be 
 looked for. 
 
 On our march down, we found the appearance of the country changed by 
 the passage of so many troops. The stench from multitudes of dead mules 
 on the roadside was intolerable ; every once in a while, as the breeze wafted 
 the odors of a decaying carcass to us, some one would sing out, " There s 
 another milestone ! " Ere we reached the mouth of the Rio Grande, Lieu 
 tenant John H. Gore took command of our company ; he proved an excel 
 lent officer, and did justly by his men. Just before we took ship to sail for 
 Lobos Island, the place of rendezvous of Scott s army, one of our men got. 
 brutally intoxicated, and annoyed us by his continual yelling. Gore ordered 
 his legs to be tied together with a rope, and had him shoved into the break 
 ers ; the other end was held by two men, who drew him to and fro until F 
 certainly thought the poor scamp would drown. Having ducked him suf 
 ficiently, he was released ; by which time he was sobered and effectually 
 cured, for I never afterward knew him to become drunk. 
 
 When we. anchored at Lobos Island, on the 22d of February, 184-7, we 
 found General Scott on the steamer Massachusetts, awaiting the arrival of 
 his forces. A large number of volunteers were encamped on the island. 
 When all was ready the whole fleet headed their prows for the famous 
 castle of San Juan d Ulloa. It was a beautiful sight that immense number 
 of tall-masted vessels, with their snowy canvas spread to the breeze. How 
 many a young man, the hope and support of a fond mother, was there, 
 doomed miserably to perish and fill an unknown grave in a foreign land ! 
 Our ships were filled with vermin, and ere the voyage was half over we were 
 completely covered ; no accommodations existed for washing either clothes 
 or persons. 
 
 On the 6th of March, we anchored off Vera Cruz ; the next day we got 
 the tidings, from an English vessel, of the battle of Buena Vista. Tho 
 report was through the Mexicans, and to the effect that Santa Anna had had 
 a battle with our volunteers under Taylor, and had defeated him ; neverthe 
 less that the Mexicans had fallen back for some purpose not stated. The 
 
452 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 concluding clause proved to us that " our boys " were the victors, and wo 
 gave three hearty cheers for " Old Zach." 
 
 Our landing was effected on the 8th. Our division was the first to em 
 bark in the boats for the main land ; when we were ready, Worth shout/*! 
 in a loud voice, "By boats ! right wheel !" then, "Forward !" and agaLi: 
 " For the shore ! " The sailors pulled heartily, and we sat with our arnia 
 !n our hands ready for action ; as soon as we struck the beach, each regi 
 ment rallied around its flag in line of battle. This proved needless, as the 
 expected opposition did not ensue. I never saw such a magnificent spec 
 tacle as that vast collection of boats with over five thousand men, moving 
 in a regular semicircle toward the shore ; it was a sight worth a journey of 
 a thousand miles. When the sun rose next morning, it shone on twelve 
 thousand men on that beach. 
 
 Vera Cruz stands on the sea shore, and is inclosed by a wall ; from it a 
 plain extends about a thousand yards, and then rise sandhills from ten to 
 thirty feet in height, formed by the northers, which prevail in the spring 
 and autumn. The tops of these hills are covered with scrubby thorn 
 bushes ; the ravines with lime and other tropical trees. Our forces com 
 pletely invested the city ; Worth s right rested on the shore, and although 
 it was three miles distant, yet, on the day after our landing, a bomb-shell 
 reached our camp. The landing of our guns, provisions, and munitions of 
 war occupied several days ; the beach presented a scene of life and anima 
 tion, only when the northers prevailed, and then all had to seek shelter. 
 While the sailors were attending to these duties, we soldiers were digging 
 trenches and planting batteries. 
 
 When we landed, and I stood upon one of those sandhills and saw the 
 strength of the place, the immenso distance at which the enemy threw their 
 projectiles, and the wonderful weight of their metal, I despaired of our ever 
 taking the place ; but science overcame all these difficulties. We had hero 
 the best military talent of our country ; we had General Scott and a splen 
 did corps of engineers, and. ere I was aware, they had worked their way 
 down through the ravines and sandhills, and were laying out entrenchments 
 within eight hundred yards of the city. The army was detailed by regi 
 ments to work and relieve each other in the trenches. There was no run 
 ning the gauntlet here in daylight ; each detail remained and worked in the 
 trenches twenty-four hours. The reliefs always marched down after dark, 
 when there was but little risk of being fired on in crossing the level plain 
 between the camp and the trenches, and \vkich \t*as open to a raking fire 
 alike from the castle and city batteries. All this heavy work in the 
 trenches had to be done at night. The first night our regiment was in the 
 trenches, we had a sharp time. The engineers had got there first, and had 
 stretched a rope along as our guide to work by. This was on the city sido 
 of the cemetery, where the ground was covered with the vegetation peculiar 
 to this region. Here was an immense cactus, there a thicket of thorn 
 bushes ; to the left a massy, broad-leafed, spongy plant with long sharp 
 needles on the edges of the leaves ; beside it a large sapling, which certainly 
 would cause us to *alarm the enemy by our chopping ; everything bristled 
 with thorns and needles, like a forost of spikes. We stuck our muskets 
 by the bayonets into the ground beside us, hung our jackets and belts on 
 
OF AMERICANS. 453 
 
 the butts, and went at it, carefully at first, but soon were fully engaged chop 
 ping, knocking, and hauling away the brush. The use of a light was too 
 perilous, the night was dark, and when one put forth his hand to take hold 
 of a bush, it was sure to come in contact with a thorn or a needle, so that 
 n a little while our hands were streaming with blood ; there was no help 
 for it, a soldier s blood is at the call of his country. Either by the noise oi 
 c-ur chopping or through their pickets, the Mexicans got wind of our pro 
 ceedings, and in a little while they began to compliment us with specimens 
 of their skill in gunnery. 
 
 Suddenly the eastern sky was lit up by a luminous flash : "Look cut, 
 boys ! shot ! here she comes ! " was shouted. 
 
 The report and the shell came together ; boom ! whiz ! Hloop ! and she 
 struck in the cemetery beside us, throwing up a cloud of sand and dust. 
 
 " Look out sharp, boys ! another from the castle a Paixhan fellow this 
 time ! " 
 
 I heard it and had just thrown myself behind a breastwork raised the 
 night previous, when, smash, it struck into that very breastwork, exploding 
 as it struck, and -with a force that I thought would shake the whole place 
 level. 
 
 "Another, boys! from the city thirteen-inch shell!" which kindly ex 
 ploded in the air above, and the pieces went whiz! whiz! whiz! striking 
 all about us. 
 
 "Another, fellows ! round shot from the city ! " 
 
 Along she came, waist-high, and passing between two of our muskets, 
 nipped off a piece from one of our jackets. 
 
 " Well, by zounds ! this is getting quite comfortable ! " 
 
 "Another, boys, from the castle ! Paixhan this time ! " but it fell short, 
 and ir. a little while the firing upon us ceased for the night. 
 
 Having cleared off the brush, we took to the spades. The engineer camo 
 along and gave us our tasks ; each man was to dig a hole four feet long, fivo 
 deep, and six wide : that is to say, twenty men were to make a trench 
 eighty feet long of the above width and depth. When ready, the engineer 
 told us that just as each worked, just so much of a protection would each 
 have, at least against the round shot, when daylight disclosed us to the 
 enemy. We went at it with a will ; the sand was as easy to excavate as an 
 ash-heap. By three o clock in the morning, where the enemy saw nothing 
 before but a dense chaparral, was now a splendid trench, running, like a fine 
 canal across the plain. It was beautiful to look upon, and the engineers 
 were mightily pleased ; they said we had done more work that night than 
 they expected to have accomplished in two that we were "good, brave 
 boys, and deserved well of our country." When the morning light exposed 
 the long line of new earth to the view of the Mexican artillery-men, the} r 
 pelted us awfully with round shot and shell; we lay snug and unharmed 
 all day in our holes, and when night came were relieved. 
 
 Such was the way those trenches were made and batteries planted. 
 Magazines were also constructed of heavy planks and earth, with their 
 doors from the direction of the city. Mule teams hauled down shells and 
 shot during the night-time. The work of getting the heavy guns through 
 the heavy sandhills to their respective positions, was very great ; large de- 
 
454 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 tails of soldiers and sailors took hold of the ropes ; the sailors shouting in 
 their sea-phrases, the soldiers swearing and laughing, the heavy guns swing 
 ing and getting fast in the sand, the enemy now and then sending a thirty- 
 two pound pill, whose screaming and gyrations through the sand and chap 
 arral, all united to make a scene to be remembered. 
 
 One night, after having been greatly fatigued by hard work, I rolled my 
 self up in my blanket, and fell into A refreshing sleep; in a few hours a 
 norther came on and roused me by the flapping and shaking of my tent ; I 
 turned over and went off again until reveille. When I awoke, I felt a 
 heavy weight upon me ; on throwing off my blanket from my head, a peck 
 of sand poured into my face, filling my eyes, nose, ears, neck, etc. The 
 drifting sand had come into my tent and covered me over like a mass of 
 snow. On going out, the scene was dreadful ; the air was darkened by the 
 fine sand, and everything was covered with it. Many of the tents had been 
 blown down, the sea was lashed into fury, and the men looked miserably. 
 The cook had the greatest difficulty in making us any coffee ; as for the 
 pork, it was full of sand. Not a bite of anything could we take, but our 
 teeth would grate on sand everything partook of a gritty nature ; sand 
 was here, there, and everywhere : everybody had sore eyes, our clothes 
 were full of sand, a man s shirt felt like drawing a bag of gravel over 
 his back, and his boots seemed as if they contained a " perch of stone." A 
 few hours exposure of a sleeping man to one of those northers, would bury 
 him so deeply as to be beyond all hope of a living resurrection. The fact 
 was, sand and thorns were trumps with us all the time at Vera Cruz. 
 
 We could not wash on board the ships, nor for days after our landing had 
 we the time ; our persons and clothes got into a most healthy and lively 
 condition : our bodies formed the worlds for multitudes of those little beings 
 who carried out the injunction to "increase and multiply," with such unction 
 that they became great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers in less than, 
 twenty-four hours. Why they wore created I know not, except it be to 
 punish people for filthiness. It was not until near the close of the siege 
 that we had an opportunity of dispossessing these non-paying tenants. 
 
 One evening our company was sent out as a guard of observation, and 
 took position behind a low cactus-covered sandhill. At ten o clock next 
 day one of our men in morving about, exposed our position to the enemy ; 
 we were in point-blank range of all their batteries, from which they poured 
 in upon us a tremendous storm of heavy shot. I never passed such a day. 
 We had to lie close to the ground, and the shot then nearly grazed oui 
 heads. The cactus was knocked all to pieces, and the top of the hill was 
 as effectually cut up as if a plow had passed over it. Night came on and 
 relieved us without the loss of a single man. Dreadful was that storm ; it 
 was surprising we were not all knocked to pieces. There was some lovely 
 embracing of mother earth that day, and if I had possessed the nature of a 
 ground-hog, I should certainly have employed myself differently from what 
 I did. 
 
 Thus we proceeded, making trenches, planting batteries, and getting reacy 
 to answer the enemy at their own game. General Scott had his marquee 
 pitched to ths right and rear of our encampment. It was evident we had a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 455 
 
 master-mind in the field, and that an application of science was being made, 
 instead of an entire reliance upon the bayonet. 
 
 By the 25th of March, all the batteries were in full play upon Yera Cruz. 
 The roar of our artillery, and the fall of shells and shot was heard all 
 through its streets. I was afterward told by an Englishman that the scene 
 was dreadful ; he showed me a house in which a family was eating supper, 
 when a shell fell through the roof, and, bursting in the room, killed tho 
 whole of them ; and an old negro said to me, "Ah ! mister ! dat was awful 
 time dar, de shells bustin* and blowin eberyting to pieces." I need not re 
 count any farther these scenes, for abler pens than mine have poitrayed 
 them. 
 
 The surrender was an imposing sight ; the soldiers and sailors stood in 
 one line and the volunteers in another. We were ordered to appear in^tha 
 best possible manner, cleanly shaved, with our arms, belts, and accoutermenta 
 polished and whitened up ; we wore the extra suit which a soldier always 
 has by him, and when we marched out to parade, each man looked as if just 
 out of a bandbox. Worth was well pleased, for he loved a proud soldier. 
 The sailors were dressed in their white pants, blue coats, and shirts with 
 the blue collar, and took our right. The volunteers appeared dingy and 
 dirty, some with long beards, others with one pant-leg in their boots ; the 
 contrast was great. They wondered how we could make such a neat ap 
 pearance ; it was our business to be soldiers, and we lived under a strict 
 discipline which provided for such emergencies. The Mexicans, as they 
 marched out, looked heart-broken some were fine-looking men ; they 
 stacked their arms and then hurried away to the interior, and were soon out 
 of sight. When General Scott took possession he obtained an immense 
 amount of the material of war ; he issued orders to prevent the commission 
 of crimes against the people, and no army ever conducted with such 
 humanity toward a. conquered people as ours in Mexico. The only crimo 
 of moment committed at Vera Cruz was by a free negro from South Caro-, 
 lina, who, having violated a countrywoman as she was coming into the city 
 with some marketing, was tried by a military commission and hung. He 
 met his fate with the coolest unconcern. 
 
 Our army was now preparing for an advance into the heart of Mexico. 
 Quantities of ammunition, provisions, cannon, and arms are to be carried, 
 yet the wagons, horses, and mules, which are to do this service, have not 
 arrived. They are now perhaps descending the Mississippi, and will soon 
 be here ; at length, one by one, dozen by dozen, they arrive. On the 8th 
 of April, Twiggs with his division takes the road to Jalapa; on the 13th, 
 our division follows. By orders we took on with us only what was abso 
 lutely necessary ; all our spare clothing we packed and left behind, snugly 
 stowed away. In our absence the volunteers got at our goods, and stole 
 everything that the regular army had left tents, uniforms, private clothing 
 and all 
 
 General Twiggs had advanced to a place called Plan del Rio, and, at 
 Cerro Gordo, a mountain gorge beyond, found Santa Anna with seventeen 
 thousand men, in a strongly-fortified position, awaiting the attack of the 
 Americans. Twiggs, having made a reconnoissance, resolved to attack; 
 thinking perhaps to make a name, he was about to practice General Tay 
 
456 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 lor s method of fighting, and thereby very likely would have been defeated 
 with great slaughter. General Patterson coming up at this juncture, he did 
 not attack. When Scott arrived he adopted an entirely different plan ; ho 
 was not an officer to plunge in headlong, get his men into trouble, and thon, 
 riot knowing how to extricate them, do nothing but stand arid swagger about, 
 and let fly a volley of oatlis. 
 
 Our division reached the National Bridge on the 15th, and remained theie 
 until the next evening, when we were ordered up to Plan del Rio, sixteen 
 miles beyond; somehow we men understood we were to go only three or 
 four miles that night, so we neglected filling our canteens with water. We 
 marched on several miles, expecting every moment to be ordered to en 
 camp ; dense chaparral lined the roadside, and on we jogged ; all that could 
 be heard was an occasional growl from some sore-footed and tired soldier, 
 the continual dink, dink of our tin cups, and the heavy tramp of many feet. 
 I became so fatigued that I thought it impossible to go farther, but I kept 
 on with my eyes partly shut, asleep. When we had gone a dozen miles it 
 seemed to me thirty it was reported that the lancers were hovering around, 
 and the officers warned the men not to fall out of the ranks or they would 
 be murdered. Finally we halted for a few moments when Smith, of our 
 company, and myself threw ourselves behind some bushes on the roadside 
 to rest until the troops should start on. No sooner were we down than, 
 contrary to our intention, we fell asleep ; nature was exhausted. How long 
 we slept I know not. Suddenly I started up, wide awake, and listened ; 
 all was still save the loud breathing of my companion. The lancers ! the 
 lancers ! struck my mind. 
 
 " Smith ! Smith ! " said I, " up ! 
 
 He was awake in a moment. 
 
 " Smith, we re left behind, as sure as fate ! " 
 
 " Good heavens ! " exclaimed he, in a suppressed voice, which showed his 
 vivid sense of our peril ; " let us arouse and go after the troops." 
 
 " Certainly," I rejoined. 
 
 We caught up our knapsacks and muskets, and sprang into the road, at 
 first puzzled to know which way to go. We recollected we had lain down 
 on the left side of the road, and so started on ; in half a mile we came to 
 our men asleep, and a little beyond was the river at the base of Cerro 
 Gordo. When day broke, it presented to us one of the wildest of scenes, 
 rough and mountainous. Here we found Patterson s and part of Twiggs 
 division. That afternoon, Twiggs had a smart skirmish with the enemy, 
 and carried a lower hill south of Cerro Gordo, the main hill, where our 
 soldiers planted some guns in the night. 
 
 Upon the particulars of the battle which ensued the next day, I need not 
 dwell. It is well known that the enemy were most thoroughly defeated, 
 and exactly in accordance with the previous dispositions of our general. As 
 we were ascending the hill called by the Mexicans Telegrafo, we camo 
 across General Scott ; how he got there we could not tell. As the men 
 passed him they all cheered ; he looked as mild and pleasant as if on a 
 pleasure excursion. On the top of the hill the scene presented all the hor 
 rors of the battle-field dead and dying men all about. Worth ordered the 
 captured guns to be turned on the enemy, who hoisted a white fla#. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 457 
 
 "Xever mind the flag," said he, "fire a few shots an}* 1 way ! " which was 
 done, and then he ordered them to cease. Among the dead I saw here was 
 General Vasquez, a fine-looking man, who fell with his face to the foe ; a 
 little stream of blood was oozing from a shot-hole in his head. One soldier 
 lay near him with the top part of his head blown off; the skull had been 
 struck on the back part and cut straight across above the ears, and in that 
 shape thrown over where it still hung by the skin of the forehead like a 
 hingo. One Mexican was in a singular position ; it was evident that at the 
 last moment he had seen something which pleased him. and had turned 
 around with his back to his own breastwork, when a ball passed through 
 his head from behind ; he thereupon had sunk into a sitting-posture with 
 the smile yet on his face and his musket resting on his arm ; he appeared as 
 if yet alive and laughing. 
 
 On the 19th, we took up our line of march for Jalapa. All along tho 
 road were evidences of the pursuit" of the flying Mexicans by Harney s dra 
 goons ; it was strewn with the dead and dying. Heaps of the dead lay 
 upon the ground with their skulls literally split open by the sabers of our 
 horsemen. We were evidently entering a Better country, fine fields of grain 
 were springing up all around, coffee was seen growing, and the foliage was 
 of a dark, heavy green. That night we bivouacked near Jalapa, and on 
 elevated ground. Sunrise opened to us one of the finest of views ; toward 
 Vera Cruz, in the lowlands, it was cloudy and doubtless raining. The 
 clouds were beneath our feet, and as the deep thunder rolled and reverbe 
 rated through the valleys, we could see the lightning dart up out of heavy 
 banks of mist whose tops were white in the sun s rays. To the left was old 
 Orizaba, topped with perpetual snow. Our officers and men stood enchanted 
 with the view. This was not all : there, to the west, right back of Jalapa, 
 arose stupendous mountains piled on mountains until the tops seemed to 
 pierce the skies ; over these lay our road to JMexico. 
 
 Worth s division did not stop in Jalapa, but was ordered on to Perote. 
 In a few miles we struck the mountains and entered the wild and gloomy 
 pass of La Hoya, called by our men the Black Pass. On the 22d, v/o 
 reached the famous Castle of Perote, and were shown the room in which 
 the Mier prisoners were confined. Captain Samuel II. Walker, of the Texan 
 Rangers, was one of those prisoners. It is said, that having assisted with 
 others in some repairs around the flag-staff, he dropped in a crevice a five 
 cent piece, saying as he did it, that the day would arrive when he should 
 have the authority to take it out. As, during the time we were in Mexico, 
 he was appointed commander of the castle, I presume he recovered his 
 sixpence. 
 
 At Perote our brigade sepa,rated from the other part of Worth s division, 
 and advanced eighteen miles to Tepeyahaulco ; we there quartered in a 
 mule yard, and I took up my berth in one of the troughs. Oil the 10th of 
 May, we marched for Puebla, and on the first day saw the singular effects 
 of the mirage ; it made the distant landscape look like a lake of water. Our 
 persons were reflected in the distance to a gigantic size, and our horses to 
 the proportions of elephants. W T e crossed wide tracts of barren sand and 
 met with large quantities of pumice-stone ; the mountains were bare and 
 destitute of vegetation. At a mountain pass, " El Final," the enemy had 
 
458 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 fixed large rocks to roll upon us, but when we came along, they were not 
 there to roll them. On the fourth day from Perote we reached A.mazoque, 
 seven miles from the famous City of Puebla ; we could discern the cupolas 
 of the cathedrals with their shining and variegated tiles. 
 
 Just before reaching Amazoque the road rises up on a high plateau ascend 
 ing which a most gorgeous panorama burst upon our view ; away toward 
 the west arose those famous snow-capped mountains, Popocatapetl and Iz- 
 tac-cithuatl, rearing their white heads far into the atmosphere. Between us 
 and those mountains stretched away the Valley of Puebla, dotted here and 
 there with the white houses of villages and haciendas ; and there in the cen 
 ter stood the large, beautiful City of Puebla de los Angeios City of the 
 Angels. The country around was fertile and prolific in everything for the 
 comfort of man. 
 
 On entering Amazoque the villagers greeted us kindly ; the ladies, good- 
 hearted souls, ran and brought huge pitchers of water, and standing in the 
 doors of their humble dwellings, offered us the sparkling liquid with pleas 
 ant words and smiling countenances. Feeling certain from the manner of 
 the people, that our entrance into Puebla would be unopposed, Worth 
 ordered us to clean up and put things in order, so that we might make a 
 good appearance on the occasion. Our regiment went into a large fenced 
 yard to clean up after our long and dusty march. Some went to work tak 
 ing apart their muskets and cleaning them ; others got out their whitening 
 and were rubbing up their belts ; still others were overhauling their knap 
 sacks, and taking out and mending their extra suit ; again, others were 
 shaving themselves so that the appearance of the troops was as if they 
 were in quarters in some part of the United States : no one dreamed of an 
 enemy being near. It seems, however, that something must have revealed 
 our situation to the Mexicans : suddenly the exclamations burst forth : 
 
 " Hark ! what is that ? It s the long roll. By heavens ! we are attacked !" 
 
 The scene that transpired cannot be described ; our confusion was most 
 complete men grasping their muskets, that lay all apart, and nervously at 
 tempting to put them together, others hurrying on their accouterments, etc. 
 Notwithstanding our defenseless and dangerous condition, it was an ex 
 tremely ludicrous spectacle to us when we began to fall into line somo 
 were half-shaven some had on their jackets wrong-side out others with 
 the cartridge-box on the wrong side. While the confusion was at its height, 
 a man at the gate shouted out, "The lancers are just upon us!" I looked 
 toward the city and saw an immense cloud of dust arising. While all thia 
 was transpiring, our light artillery ran out, and, by a few well-directed shots, 
 sent the cowardly rascals galloping back. The result of this affair was that 
 we looked worse next morning than usual. 
 
 The next day we entered Puebla ; as we passed along the streets, we found 
 them crowded with thousands of people anxious to get a sight of those 
 men that had always proved victorious over their choicest troops. Tha 
 balconies of fine tall houses were densely thronged with beautiful women who 
 waved their handkerchiefs at us as we advanced. Our men were astonished 
 at the splendor and apparent opulence of the city. We presented a most 
 miserable appearance to the people ; we were worn down by our long march, 
 "overed with dust and dirt, and from fatigue and sickness, our faces wore a 
 
OF AMEKICANS. 459 
 
 haggard look. The Pueblese had expected to see something splendid in 
 the aspect of that army that had proved itself so invincible ; great was their 
 astonishment at beholding a collection of ill-dressed, poor, dirty, and sickly 
 looking men. 
 
 Near Puebla, are the ancient ruins of Cholula, a city of the Tlascalans, 
 which in the time of Cortes contained two hundred thousand -souls and four 
 Ltindred temples to idols. The famous pyramid of Cholula still marks the 
 spot ; it is the most remarkable of all the ruins of the Aztecs. Its base 
 corers the space of a quarter of a mile, and it rises to the height of one 
 hundred and seventy-seven feet. 
 
 Puebla is a beautiful city of eighty thousand inhabitants ; its streets are 
 broad and lined with many elegant buildings. We were much pleased with 
 the people, and, for my part, I had the good luck to ingratiate myself in 
 the affections of the family of an old Spaniard, consisting of himself, wife, 
 and two agreeable young daughters, with whom I passed many pleasant 
 hours. 
 
 Near our quarters in Puebla was an ancient church bearing the date 1628 ; 
 in its thick walls were niches in which, according to the custom of tho 
 country, bodies of children had been deposited after death. While in this 
 city very many of the troops died of the dysentery, brought on by the poor 
 food and change of climate. The stoutest men were the first to sink, and 
 the volunteers suffered far more than the regulars, particularly those from 
 the Southern States. The New York and South Carolina regiments were 
 quartered opposite each other ; the latter lost a dozen men to the other s 
 one, and so it was all through the army. 
 
 On our arrival at Puebla, our army had been reduced, by the expirations 
 of enlistments and other causes, to less than five thousand men, and thus 
 General Scott was obliged to await there several months for reinforcements. 
 Had government promptly supplied him with troops we could have marched 
 on immediately after the battle of Cerro Gordo, and in a very little while 
 have reached the City of Mexico. The enemy, dispirited by defeat, would 
 have made but feeble resistance to our arms ; but the delay gave ample time 
 for Santa Anna to recover from the shock, to recruit his army, and to fortify 
 the approaches to the city. Thousands of valuable lives were lost by tho 
 dilatory movements and the want of energy on the part of our government. 
 
 Early in August, the army under Scott, haying received the expected re 
 inforcements, marched out of Puebla in four divisions, numbering in all ten 
 thousand seven hundred and thirty-eight men. About three thousand men, 
 under Colonel Childs, were left at Puebla ; most of these were in the hos 
 pitals, over seven hundred of whom died in that city. 
 
 Our division left Puebla on the 8th of August ; many of the citizens who had 
 become acquainted with us assembled to see us start. Our course was through 
 a beautiful rolling country, dotted wikh orchards and fruit-gardens ; the road 
 was ascending and crossed, before entering the City of Mexico, the Anahuac 
 range of the Cordilleras, the most magnificent portion of that chain of moun 
 tains which extends from Cape Horn to the Arctics. The lofty mountains, 
 white with eternal snows, chilled the air at the distance of thirty miles. 
 On the third day we reached Rio Frio, or Cold River, the highest point on 
 the road ten thousand one hundred and twenty feet above the Gulf o 
 
4(30 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Mexico forty-eight miles from Puebla and forty-five from the City of 
 Mexico. The scenery was glorious ; at every turn in the road seme new 
 object of grandeur burst upon us calling forth exclamations of delight. Sol 
 diers generally seem to be almost entirely insensible to such things and to 
 all the finer emotions of the human heart, but such is not the case ; it is 
 owing to the nature of military discipline that the soldier acquires a .^citurn 
 habit; thinking, however, even in all despotisms, is free. 
 
 The succeeding night the cold was intense ; soon after bivouacking, a cold 
 rain came on, which put out our fires and wet us through, and before morn 
 ing my clothes had frozen stiff with icicles depending therefrom. The fol 
 lowing forenoon we came in view of the beautiful Valley of Mexico. The 
 air in those elevated regions is so very clear as to reduce the apparent dis 
 tance of objects fully one-half; the City of Mexico, thirty-rive miles beyond 
 us, was visible a little speck in the valley. I heard no extravagant excla 
 mations at the beauty of the scenery : but one, made on a different subject, 
 I well recollect. Our regiment happened to be in the advance, and General 
 Worth and his staff were near us ; as we were descending, in the afternoon, 
 into the valley, marching in platoons, the ra}*s of the declining sun striking 
 the mass of bright arms presented a beautiful appearance. Worth observed 
 it, and turning to his staff, exclaimed : 
 
 " Gentlemen, look at that ! just look at that ! Is not that enough to cheer 
 the heart of any man ?", 
 
 Worth was proud of his men and ambitious. This day s march was a 
 long one ; we overtook Twiggs division at the edge of the valley, at the 
 village of Ayotla. At this point, which was on the main road to the city, 
 we turned oft to the left and took post at Chalco, on the lake of the same 
 name. The City of Mexico is approached only by causeways. Santa Anna, 
 supposing that our army would take the main road, had more strongly for 
 tified the approaches to the city by it ; the strongest was the fortress El 
 Penon, which completely commanded the road. It mounted fifty-one guns 
 of the heaviest caliber, and was surrounded by a broad and deep ditch. On 
 reconnoitering this position, General Scott saw that it was impossible to take 
 it, except at an immense loss of life ; he, therefore, cut a new road to the 
 left, around the western margins of the lakes, Chalco and Xochimilco, which 
 struck the Acapulco road at the village of San Augustine. On the Acapulco 
 road the prominent fortifications to be overcome were, 1. The Hill of CON- 
 TRKRAS, thoroughly armed with batteries and breastworks. 2. The Bridge 
 of CHUKUBUSCO, a tete du pont at the crossing of a canal, armed also with 
 cannon. 3. Nearer the city, the Hill of CKAPULTEPEC, on which was the 
 military college. The ranche of San Antonio, and other points on the road 
 were likewise fortified with batteries. Aside from these, the city itself was 
 surrounded by a wall and ditches, with small forts at each of the gates 
 bristling with cannon. Having overcome the various obstacles on our new 
 route, our division reached San Augustine, on the Acapulco road, much to 
 the surprise of its inhabitants who had not expected us in this direction. 
 We knew that hard fighting was now close at hand ; the people were shy of 
 us, and their manner indicated that they considered us already about as good 
 as whipped. 
 
 The next day, the 18th, our division marched out on the road toward 
 
OF AMERICANS. 401 
 
 the city. In a little more than a mile we struck the pedregal (volcanic 
 rock), and neared the strongly-fortified ranche of San Antonia ; we expected 
 every moment to go into battle. Captain Thornton with his company had 
 dashed ahead to recohnoitcr, when, boom ! boom! struck our ears. Now we 
 have it, boys ! and as the sound echoed through the valleys, I saw a deathly 
 paleness come over the faces of the men. I looked on purpose to see the 
 effect it was having on others, for I felt bad myself and wished to know 
 if they appeared as I knew 1 felt. It was the same with the officers, for 
 war is no respecter of persons, and death is terrible. But what is this com 
 ing ? It is Captain Thornton s horse ! The saddle was all over blood. One 
 of the two shots we just heard, had struck the poor captain and cut him 
 m two. 
 
 We moved on, and that night our brigade took up quarters in a huge 
 Btone barn. The enemy had a twenty-four pounder in their works at San 
 Antonio and battered our hotel with great industry, but little effect. Here 
 we lay inactive, awaiting, as it was understood, for some of the other divi 
 sions to make a demonstration to the left of the pedregal on the heights of 
 Contreras, where General Valencia, with six thousand troops, " the flower of 
 the Mexican army," was strongly intrenched. During the 19th, it was fair 
 weather all day. As our division of the army was not in those operations 
 before Contreras, I will only give the facts that fell under my own observa 
 tion at the time. 
 
 About four o clock in the afternoon of that day (the 19th), we heard a 
 sharp firing in the direction of Contreras, three "miles in a right line from us 
 across the pedregal, and five by the road. Clouds of smoke were discerned, 
 and as no one came to us, we began to be suspicious that matters were not 
 going on well. We knew the position of the Mexicans from the more dense 
 masses of smoke and from the louder reports of their artillery their guns 
 being the heaviest ; we also noticed the fact that when night came on, our 
 people were no nearer the position of the enemy than when they began. 
 
 About dusk, word came to our officers, but nothing to us : this was omi 
 nous. Again, the officers stood by themselves, talked low, and suddenly 
 had very long countenances. If any of us moved within hearing distance 
 they instantly ceased talking. After awhile 1 got a chance to see Lieuten 
 ant Gore, commander of our company. He was standing by himself and I 
 went up, saluted, and said : 
 
 "Lieutenant, I wish, if you would please inform me, to know how it goes 
 with our side over there this evening : I fear it is not all right ?" 
 
 "Keep quiet, sergeant!" rejoined he, "and if you won t say anything to 
 the men about it, I ll tell you. The Mexicans are very strongly intrenched 
 over there in the valley, and General Scott ordered that point to be attacked 
 this afternoon, not supposing the enemy were so strong as they really are. 
 Our men had bad luck they attacked and had to abandon their position. 
 The fact is, sergeant," continued Gore, speaking very low, "our fellows are 
 whipped, and we all feel very bad about it ; but it is the intention to dc 
 something to-night, and perhaps we will be called upon." 
 
 "Not whipped !" said I. 
 
 "No, not exactly whipped," rejoined Gore; "but you know, sergeant^ 
 when we attack a place and don t take it, we might as well be whipped." 
 
462 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 He then, ag.iin, requested me not to tell the men, as it would make a bad 
 impression. When I returned, my companions flocked around to ascertain 
 what Gore had told me. I, however, "knew nothing" and said "be 
 quiet," all of which they fully understood. 
 
 In the course of an hour, when the men had mostly fallen asleep, and the 
 non-commissioned officers were together, I revealed the whole to them. 
 We sat there for hours discussing the matter, and finally concluded that, 
 although hard work was in store for us, Scott was certain to take the city. 
 One by one, we fell asleep. I dropped into a dreamy doze, my mind 
 actively engaged with the scenes around us yet my thoughts would often 
 be far away with home and loved ones in Ohio. Suddenly I would arouse, 
 and the startling fact come upon me, in all its dreadful reality, that I was 
 far, far away in an enemy s country. Thus the thoughts, continually active, 
 kept flitting about, like some nervous unsteady spirit that could never find 
 a resting-place. So the hours passed on, and in the meanwhile it began to 
 rain. The dripping of the eaves fell at the great doors, and the drops pat 
 tered on the roof and leaves with a melancholy sound. "To-morrow," 
 thought I, "may be my last day on earth !" .A sense of fear, of extreme 
 reluctance to go in where Death was claiming his victims oppressed me, 
 and then I would shake it off and resolve to go where duty called. I felt I 
 was not the only one that might be sacrificed, and if I was doomed to die, 
 I should be remembered by a grateful country. 
 
 Two hours past midnight, I heard the gallop of a horse approaching. 
 The rider passed around the barn and by the door, and kept on to our colo 
 nel s marquee. It was an aid-de-camp with orders. He dismounted and 
 went in, and I then overheard voices there. A few minutes elapsed when 
 in came our adjutant and called out : 
 
 " Men ! men ! wake up ! wake up ! arouse up, all hands ! First sergeants, 
 parade your men and call the roll immediately ! " 
 
 This was the morning of the 20th of August, 1847, and ere the sun went 
 down five distinct actions were fought with the Mexicans, and five victories 
 won by American valor. These were : 1. The storm of Contreras. 2. The 
 capture of San Antonio. 3. The storm of the tete-du-pont. 4. The battle 
 and assault of the ckurch and outworks of Churubusco. 5. The action in 
 the rear of Churubusco with the right wing of Santa Anna s corps. These 
 last three were parts of one drama, but distinct in the skill, the action, and 
 the relative effects. Ten batteries, mounting sixty-one guns, had been car 
 ried and the causeway laid open to the very gates of the city. The Mexi 
 cans numbered thirty thousand men, and their strength was doubled by 
 their being in fortified positions. The Americans had nine thousand meu 
 only engaged. Seldom have such great results with such inferior means 
 been attained iu war. But to return. 
 
 In thirty minutes the whole brigade was on the march whither we knew 
 not ; we only knew we were moving in the direction of San Augustine. The 
 night was dark, the rain was pouring, the road was slippery with mud, and 
 we were marching, half-asleep and burdened with our knapsacks. We had 
 started off too without our coffee, and felt weak and miserable, for nothing 
 is more trying to soldiers than to be called on duty from out of a sound 
 deep without their morning coffee. For days we had had nothing to eat bul 
 
OF AMERICANS. 463 
 
 hard bread and our coffee, as we could catch time to make it. For my 
 
 part, I feli in anything but a pleasant mood. Old Major took occasion 
 
 to get drunk that morning. He must have begun to pour down the liquor 
 as soon as he heard the order to march, for we had not gone more than two 
 or three miles before he was "good ;" and then he thought the whole bri 
 gade was drunk, and " wondered where they got their liquor ! " It wa.s easy 
 to tell where he got his, for he always had a demijohn in the baggage- 
 wagon : a soldier s knapsack would at any time be " chucked " into the road 
 to make room for his jugs. 
 
 We had marched some four miles from the barn when daybreak came 
 on. The clouds rolled away, and we discerned all around us evidences of 
 the previous day s work. Soon after, the rattling fire of musketry was 
 heard in advance of us, and then the heavy booming of the artillery. The 
 officers endeavored to urge us on at double quick time. It was impossible 
 to move fast in the slippery state of the road, burdened as we were by our 
 heavy knapsacks, and having had nothing to eat that morning but dry bread. 
 The fighting ahead was the battle of Contreras, which lasted only twenty 
 minutes. The enemy had been surprised, were driven from their guns, and 
 in their flight were pursued with great slaughter. It was a happy termina 
 tion to the unfortunate prelude of the day before, and inspired us ail with 
 enthusiasm, although we were too late to join in the action. 
 
 Worth, who had gone ahead, at this juncture returned to lead us on to 
 the attack of San Antonio. He came galloping up at full speed, his horse 
 in a, foam, and his countenance full of animation. He was very angry at 
 seeing us with our knapsacks contrary to his orders, and severely repri 
 manded the colonel, whose fault it was. 
 
 "My men," said he, "instead of being fresh for a hard day s fight, are 
 broken down already. Countermarch, sir, as soon as possible to our old po 
 sition, and await fresh orders to advance on the enemy ! Leave the knap 
 sacks there, and let the men rest a few minutes, sir !" 
 
 The officer turned pale at the reprimand, and as all this was said in the 
 presence of the men, they gave Worth one spontaneous, ringing cheer. 
 
 When we were ordered to advance, our regiment struck into a cornfield 
 intersected with ditches. We had marched some nine miles that mornin<*. 
 
 O> 
 
 and under such circumstances that, when we entered that cornfield, I was 
 in a state of desperation. My senses were in a measure blunted. I was 
 savage and would have fought, and finally did fight, like a fury incarnate, 
 completely reckless of consequences. It seemed to me then that the only 
 friend I had in the world was my musket. All the men more or less felt 
 as I did. We floundered through the mud, which was deep and sticky in 
 the cornfield, as well as we could. The ditches, which were four feet wide 
 and three deep, delayed us in our advance. Several men tumbled into 
 them in their attempts tc cross. Our drunken major had to be helped over, 
 for he was top-heavy from liquor and bottom-heavy from fat. We longed 
 to see him tumble into one of the deepest, for he was despised by the men. 
 We came in a few minutes to a place where I could, by stooping down, see 
 the Mexican breastworks between the rows of corn. We crept on in a 
 stooping posture, wondering we were not discovered and fired on. " Oh ! " 
 thought I, " you are reserving your fire until we get close to you. Very 
 
464 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 well, you will have only one chance at us, for while you are reloading, those 
 of us that are left will rush on and drive you out." 
 
 On we go- we get close to the wall our hearts beat quickly in momen 
 tary expectation of the awful sheet of flame that will flash in our faces. 
 Here we are, right at the breastwork ; we shout and rush in with our mus 
 kets firmly grasped, and at a charge and cocked : a hundred fingers press 
 nervously on as many triggers, ready to send death broadcast among our 
 enemy. At this exciting moment we find nothing but deserted forti 
 fications. 
 
 Where are the enemy ? they had retreated and were on the full run 
 toward the city. We rushed on in hot pursuit, and struck the road and 
 entered the village of San Antonio, where we met the rest of our brigade. 
 Clarke s brigade had made a circuit across the pedregal, and intercepted 
 the retreat of the Mexicans, cutting them up dreadfully. Their route was 
 strewn with all sorts of arms and with the wounded and the dying. Many 
 were calling for "agua" water. Amid the confusion, several Mexican 
 women were running about crying and carrying large bundles of their house 
 hold goods : some with children in their arms, and others with them strap 
 ped to their backs in squaw fashion. 
 
 It was here reported to Worth that some of our camp-followers were 
 plundering the church. He ordered them to be seized, tied up, and given 
 thirty-nine lashes apiece. Those fellows were gamblers from the States, 
 who had followed the army from mercenary motives. Ten of these gentle 
 men were flogged at this time, and with an unction : our soldiers bore them 
 no good will, for they had robbed and plundered them at every chance. 
 
 When the enemy were driven out of San Antonio they took up a new 
 position at Churubusco, where they were immediately attacked by the divi 
 sions of Twiggs and Pillow. Our division advanced to their assistance, 
 shouting as we ran. As soon as we got under fire our men stopped their 
 cheering, and all hands became as docile as lambs. It is wonderful to notice 
 the leveling effect the getting into battle has alike on officers and men. It 
 a time when no one man feels more aristocratic than another : those iron 
 balls are no respecters of persons. 
 
 To our division was assigned the task of attacking the tete-du-pont, or 
 bridge-head. We deployed and approached through the cornfields, sinking 
 ankle-deep in the mud, and leaping the ditches as well as we could. Some 
 being weak in their underpins waded through. Not a few scenes occurred 
 so ludicrous that a man would certainly laugh if he knew he was to be shot 
 the next moment solely on that account ; for some, in their attempts to leap 
 the ditches, jumped short, struck the opposite bank, and then fell backward 
 full length into the dirty water. 
 
 We were in full view of the enemy from their elevated positions : al 
 though they were pouring in upon us a murderous fire, which was taking off 
 our men in all directions, yet wo could not refrain from laughter when wo 
 saw a poor fellow in his awkwardness tumble into a ditch and then crawl 
 out, like a half- drowned puppy, with the dirty water dripping frcm him and 
 his ammunition and musket rendered useless from the wet. 
 
 It was severe work crossing those ditches and floundering about in tho 
 mud, wat-er, and corn, all under a tremendous fire of grape and musketry 
 
OF AMERICANS. 465 
 
 In that bloody field many were the men I saw instantly deprived of life. 
 One circumstance occurred to me that I shall relate. I had leaped a ditch 
 just as a heavy load of grape-shot from one of the guns in the tete-du-pont 
 struck all about me. I remained untouched, but an artillery-man immedi 
 ately in front cf me sank heavily to the earth, struck by a grape-shot doubt- 
 loss in a vital part, for I did not hear him utter a groan. At the same 
 iiwtar.t I heard a cry in the rear calling piteously for help. I had heard 
 that cry often before, and supposing some one was wounded, would have 
 paid no attention to it but for the fact that I had stopped to load my mus 
 ket. The cry for help was repeated so piteously that I looked back, and 
 thers was a poor fellow, another of the artillery, who had fallen wounded 
 into the water, where he was struggling to extricate himself. I leaned my 
 musket against a broken cornstalk to keep it out of the mud, and sprang to 
 help him. He had been wounded in the knee and side. I seized his left 
 hand with my left, put my right hand behind his left shoulder, and had 
 raised him just on the edge of the ditch when another load of grape-shot 
 came sweeping and clattering all about with dreadful velocity. My relative 
 position to the gun was such that the shot came in a quartering direction to 
 my right side and back. . One of the grape-shots passed over my right arm 
 and struck my poor comrade just behind the left ear, knocking out the back 
 part of his head, killing him instantly. He gave a heavy lurch backward, 
 falling into the ditch, and so suddenly was it done that I came near going 
 in with him. My regiment had in the meantime got far ahead. Such are 
 some of the bloody scenes of war. 
 
 With more jumping of ditches, we come near enough to the enemy to 
 discern the buttons on their coats. With a little more firing they break and 
 run, and we have possession of the tete-du-pont. They crowd out the other 
 side, but our bayonets travel faster than they, and many fall as they run. 
 Now and then one, braver than his companions, turns and sends a bullet at 
 our faces zi/> / it comes. Bless me ! if that had struck one in the mouth, 
 it would be all the supper he would want this day ! Away they scamper, 
 like some huge cloud, their muskets and great-coats, as- they throw them 
 down, strewing the road. Then we cheer with exultant victory. We feel 
 full to overflowing with military enthusiasm. Big tears fill our eyes and run 
 down our cheeks, for we have stormed the fort and it is ours. 
 
 Thus ended this great day a day of five distinct battles and of five vic 
 tories. The whole army remained near the field of battle. We now went 
 to work gathering wood for the cooks to prepare our coffee. We had been 
 too busy through the day to think of eating. Hunger most dreadful seized 
 upon us, and, now that the battle was over, I thought of nothing and cared 
 for nothing, but something to eat. As soon as I had drank my coffee and 
 cleaned out my haversack of the remains of the hard bread, I wanted to 
 sleep. I was covered with mud from head to foot, my clothes were stiff 
 with mud and my body stiff with fatigue. I had lived and worked an age 
 that day ; while hungry, I did not feel any fatigue. This satisfied, a most 
 indescribable sensation of exhaustion and soreness came ever me, so that I 
 could scarcely move. It had begun to rain, so I crawled under one of the 
 company s wagons, took a stone for a pillow, put my handkerchief on that, 
 and laid dcwn in my muddy state. I was very soon asleep. Thousands 
 
466 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 were worse off. How was it with the poor wounded men who, added te 
 this dreadful fatigue, were suffering from agonizing wounds that would not 
 permit even the luxury of sleeping under a wagon. The dead were better 
 off than any of us. Ah ! what untold miseries have been suffered on the 
 battle field ! 
 
 On awaking the next morning, I felt all over as if I had been beaten half 
 to death with clubs. We soon after passed over the field of our recent con 
 flict. The Mexican dead were lying around in heaps some in the muddy 
 ditches and others half in. Some of them were so much mangled and 
 trampled in the mud that it seemed almost impossible to recognize the hor 
 rible mass as ever having been a human being. Countenances expressing 
 various emotions were shown some looking pleasant in death, others exhi 
 bited extreme agony ; others still there were with knit brow and compressed 
 lip, showing determination and revenge. Dead horses and mules were 
 lying about, and thousands of small arms, muskets, escopets, swords, bayo 
 nets, lances, cartridge-boxes, belts, blankets, great-coats of all colors, uni 
 form caps of all shapes, etc. Immense damage appears to have been done 
 to their music bands, as prodigious quantities of musical instruments were 
 scattered all over the field drums, fifes, bugles, clarionets, trombones, oph- 
 clides, etc. Their defeat had been complete. 
 
 Our division took post at Tacubaya, three miles distant. On the same 
 day, General Scott was met by commissioners from Santa Anna, proposing an 
 armistice, ostensibly with a view to peace. It was, however, a mere strata 
 gem on the part of the wily Mexican, to gain time to recover from his de 
 feats and put the city in a better state of defense. He had no authority to 
 conclude a treaty, and beside, the Mexican people were indisposed to peace. 
 Our noble general, ever anxious to put an end to the strife of arms, acceded 
 to the proposals in good faith, " for," said he in his beautiful letter, written 
 at the time, " enough blood has been shed in this unnatural war." 
 
 The negotiations failed as our enemies designed, and on the 7th of Sep 
 tember, Scott took measures to resume hostilities. To give a comprehen 
 sive idea of the situation and defenses of the enemy, which we attacked 
 the next day, I make an extract from Mansfield s " Mexican War." 
 
 " On the 7th of September, Scott, having determined to carry the City of 
 Mexico by assault, accompanied by General Worth, made a recormoissance 
 of the formidable defenses of the enemy immediately in front of Tacubaya, 
 and commanding the principal causeway arid the aqueduct supplying the 
 city with water. This observation determined the general-in-chief to attack 
 what may be called the defenses of Chapultepec. These were several, col 
 laterally supporting one another, and constituting on the whole a very strong 
 point d appui and support for the Mexican army ; the larger part (if not the 
 whole) was now assembled at this point. Wa must now take a view oi 
 these defenses to understand the actions which ensued. Early on the same 
 morning, Captain Mason of the engineers made a close and daring reconnois- 
 sance of the enemy s line, round and on Chapultepec. The results of this 
 investigation may be thus stated : 
 
 The little village of Tacubaya, at which were General Scott s headquarters, 
 is about two miles and a half from the City of Mexico. About twelve hun 
 dred yards north of it, just point-.blank range for twelve-pounders, is the nil] 
 
OF AMERICANS. 467 
 
 and fortified buildings of Chapultepec. At this point, the causeway 
 branches off to the east, being about two miles iu length to the city. The 
 Tacubaya road passed on till, in two miles more, it entered the San Cosme 
 causeway. These causeways are the avenues to the city ; and bombs and 
 cannon of heavy caliber, placed on the hill of Chapultepec, could command 
 them, and tJte city itself. The knowledge of this fact informs us, at once, 
 why General Scott deemed it necessary to possess this castle, in order to 
 take the city. Once possessed, the city must fall of course. Without it, 
 the avenues to the city, and the city itself, would be exposed to the bom 
 bardment of the enemy s batteries. 
 
 Let us now examine in detail, the particular points of the defense. 
 
 CHAPULTEPEC is a porphyritic rock, called in the Aztec language, " Grass 
 hopper s Hill." It rose from the former margin of the lake was the resort 
 of the Aztec princes, and is the real site of the much-sought Halls of the 
 Montezumas. Here are the remains of gardens, groves, and grottoes the 
 lingering remnants of that magnificence which adorned the ancient City of 
 Mexico. Here also, the Spanish viceroys selected their residence, as the 
 most beautiful spot in the Valley of Mexico. And here was now placed 
 the military college. The cadets of the institution were now among its de 
 fenders. The buildings on the top were well fortified, and the base of the 
 hill was nearly surrounded by a thick stone wall. On the north, east, and 
 south, this hill was abrupt and stony. On the west only (from the city} it 
 seemed to permit any approach. On this side, down the slope, was a heavy 
 forest. On this side, the American commander determined to assault it ; 
 but here also were formidable defenses. 
 
 EL MOLING DEL HEY is just at the foot of this hillslope adjoins the grove 
 of trees, and is a stone building of thick and high walls, with towers at the 
 end. This was strongly garrisoned, and made a sort of depot, and was sup 
 posed to have been used as a foundry recently, though really built for mills, 
 and called * the King s Mill. 
 
 CASA DE MATA is another massive, thick -walled stone building, standing 
 about four hundred yards to the west of Molino del Rey, and in a straight 
 line with that and the castle of Chapultepec. It is also at the foot of a 
 gentle declivity or ridge, descending from the village of Tacubaya. 
 
 It follows then, from this topographical survey, that Chapultepec is a 
 position commanding all the roads around, and that this position can be 
 approached only on one side, on which is a grove of trees ; and that at the 
 foot of this slope, lie Molino del Rey and Casa de Mata, well defended, so 
 that the first attack must necessarily be made on Molino del Rey, or Chapul 
 tepec could not be taken ; and if not taken, there was no safe passage to the 
 city. The first thing to be done then, was the storming of Molino del Rey. 
 
 Accordingly, after the reconnoissance of the 7tn, General Scott ordered 
 General Worth with the first division, reinforced by Cadwallader s brigade 
 and a detachment of dragoons and artillery, to attack and carry the lines 
 and defenses of tho enemy at the foot of the hill, capture Molino de. Rey, 
 destroy the supposed materiel there, and then withdraw again to the village 
 of Tacubaya. 
 
 The position of tho enemy was well selected to defend the naturally 
 strong grounds they had assumed. His left rested upon and occupied the 
 30 
 
468 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 stone building, Molino del Key ; his right, in the same manner, rested upon 
 the stone building called Casa de Mata. Midway between these was his 
 field-battery, and on each side of it were his lines of infantry. 
 
 It must be recollected, however, that when this arrangement was made, 
 no one in the American army knew the real strength of the fortified posts 
 occupied by the Mexican army. Worth made the most judicious arrange 
 ments for the attack. The object in view was to break up, 1. The enemy s 
 lines of intrenchments, and, 2. To destroy the munitions in Molino del Key, 
 after which the troops were to retire. Those defenses being completely 
 under the guns of the Castle of Chapultepec, it may be assumed that the 
 commanding-general deemed it unnecessary to retain the troops in that ex 
 posed situation, when the object for which they had gone there had been 
 accomplished. 
 
 Worth divided his corps into three columns, with a reserve, to act respec 
 tively against the wings and center of the enemy. I. The right column 
 (opposite the enemy s left, Molino del Hey) was composed of Garland s bri 
 gade, to look at and in time attack El Molino. This column was accom 
 panied by Captain Drum and two pieces of artillery. To attack with this 
 column, and thus keep in check Chapultepec and its defenses, Captain Hu- 
 ger s battery of twenty-four pounders was placed on the ridge descending 
 from Tacubaya, and at about six hundred yards from El Molino. 2. A 
 storming party of five hundred picked men was placed to the left of this 
 battery, under the command of Major Wright, of the Eighth Infantry, to 
 assail the enemy s center and capture his field-battery. 3. The second bri 
 gade (now under the command of Colonel M Intosh) was placed higher up 
 the ridge, accompanied by Duncan s battery, to watch the enemy s left, sup 
 port Major Wright, or assail, as circumstances might require. Cadwallader s 
 brigade was held in reserve, in a position between the last column (M ln- 
 tosh s) and the battering guns, that they might support either column, as 
 they might need. Sumner s dragoons were on the extreme left, guarding 
 that flank. Such were the dispositions made by Worth on the night of the 
 7th of September. At three o clock on the morning of the 8th, the columns 
 were put in motion, and at daylight they were all in their respective 
 positions." 
 
 We had in the field, on the morning of this bloody day, under General 
 Worth, a trifle over three thousand men against nearly four times our num 
 ber, in their own chosen positions, in their own country, right at the gates of 
 their own capital, under the eyes of their wives and sweethearts to encour 
 age them on to deeds of valor. Having got into our respective positions, 
 we awaited until the morning light should enable us to move against our 
 foe. As we silently lay in our positions, like crouched tigers ready for the 
 fatal spring, not a sound disturbed the awful stillness of the morning. 
 Soon the sun began to shoot up some of its first rays, when the whole eastern 
 horizon assumed an enchanting aspect, with the dark outlines of distant 
 mountains projected, sharp, cold, and clear, against it. All around us tho 
 landscape was enveloped in a midnight-like darkness : not an pbject could 
 be discerned, yet near was the City of Mexico, and, right in front, our foes 
 strongly intrenched behind their death-dealing batteries. 
 
 While each was silently contemplating this scene and busy with the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 469 
 
 thoughts of the coming battle, the clear ringing blasts of a solitary buglo 
 came from the heights of Chapultepec ; then succeeded the roll of drums 
 with their continuous rattling music. It was the Mexican reveille. It 
 filled the whole valley for miles around, until striking the distant mountain 
 gorges, it came back in prolonged echoes. 
 
 In a few minutes more boom! loom I went our two twenty-four pounders. 
 Ye gods ! how they roared ! and as those two reports rolled away over the 
 valley and struck the distant mountains, it seemed like the crashing of 
 mighty thunder. Every living soul within thirty miles, it seemed to me, 
 must have been startled by the concussion. Instantly the Mexican reveille 
 ceased and all again was silent save the far-distant muttering echoes of those 
 guns. Again those two iron monsters opened their capacious throats, and 
 roared their tbunder in terrific peals over the doomed capital, while tho 
 balls went crashing right through the buildings on the left wing of the 
 enemy. A few more discharges and our little storming party rushed for 
 ward. The Mexicans laid down and coolly awaited their approach. What 
 followed I give as told to me by Montgomery, one of our men detailed for 
 the purpose. 
 
 " We advanced at a quick pace until within a few yards, when we halted 
 a moment until Captain Mason, of the engineers, ran up for a close inspec 
 tion. Not a single soul could he see : swinging his hat, Mason sang out 
 Forward, men ! there is no one here ! I knew better, for, although I did 
 not see any Mexicans, I discerned some field guns glistening in the light of 
 the gray eastern dawn. We rushed forward, when, as if by magic, the 
 whole ground became alive with Mexicans, who, as they rose to their feet, 
 poured into our men a perfect storm of shot. Our fellows dashed in and 
 actually captured their guns, when the enemy seeing what a mere handful 
 we were, rallied and by their overwhelming numbers bore us down, retook 
 their guns, and compelled the remnant of us to retreat to the main body." 
 
 In this desperate charge, our storming party lost four out of every five 
 men engaged : of the fourteen officers with them, eleven were either killed 
 or wounded. 
 
 Now came our turn ; up we sprang and charged down upon the enemy s 
 position. They were in and on the tops of houses, and behind sandbags. 
 Our regiment and some of the artillery for a few moments sheltered them 
 selves behind the bend of a high wall. While in this position, Captain 
 Drum s battery was dragged forward by hand. Owing to their position, these 
 guns could only be worked right in the road, which was so dreadfully raked 
 by musketry and grape-shot that it was almost certain death to remain 
 there. One of them was run forward to near our point of shelter. It stood 
 for some moments, no one attempting to load or fire it. What had become 
 of the artillery company I know not : the man with the rammer was there. 
 Some of us stepped out and loaded and fired it several times with grape. 
 While at this place 1 looked to see what was going on at our left, and de 
 scried our forces moving regularly down in order of battle, charging on the 
 enemy. 
 
 My eye at this moment caught a little incident. Just out in the open 
 space beyond the gun, was a large maguay plant ; behind this, down on one 
 knee, was an infantry sergeant deliberately loading and firing. The plant 
 
470 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 being spongy was of no more protection than so much paper. lie was 
 under a complete shower of balls, they struck all around him, hit the plant 
 apparently right in front of him, and I expected every moment to see him 
 fall ; yet he kept coolly on at his work, and may have escaped unharmed. 
 
 In the course of five minutes, we were ordered to charge out on the road 
 and then down to a large gate, the main entrance to the interior of the 
 houses and the works on that side of the mill. We burst open the gate, 
 which let us into the yard and rear of the whole concern. There we found 
 a large body of the enemy, in the yards, in the houses, and on the roofs. 
 For about three-quarters of an hour we had the hardest fighting in all my 
 experience. At first we had to take it in the open yards, then we got into 
 the houses, and there we had hot work too. Often we were in a house 
 while the enemy covered the roof. In passing from one house to another, 
 those on the roofs fired down upon us. Many of our men were laid out in 
 this manner. I came near being caught myself. While in one of tho 
 houses, in starting to run through a small hall open to the roof, I happened 
 to cast my eye up, and there saw a big Mexican in the act of taking aim at 
 me. I darted back just in time to escape the ball which came down, crack, 
 on the very spot I had occupied. "Bless you, my chap!" thought I, 
 "mind if I don t punish you for that !" and as I stood back with my mus 
 ket cocked and my finger on the trigger to catch a sight of him, several of 
 our men entered the room, among whom was a corporal of artillery. He 
 came rushing along, and before I could arrest his progress, he got into the 
 little hall and unaccountably stopped there. I yelled to him, and at that 
 instant a ball from above passed his face and sank into his breast. He fell 
 into my arms, when I laid him down and he died instantly. Seeing this, 
 we determined to stop the game. We fixed ourselves on each side of the 
 door, and by a little maneuvering, made it rather a hot climate for those 
 gentlemen up there. We were not satisfied until five of them had turned 
 a somerset into that little hall and their companions had emigrated to more 
 comfortable quarters. This is the way matters went for some time. The 
 slaughter was prodigious. Notwithstanding heir losses, the enemy stood 
 up to their work and fought desperately. The fact was, that in this battle 
 the Mexicans were mostly drunk, and Dutch courage, as the kind this pro 
 duces is called, sometimes works wonders. 
 
 We took many prisoners in this place. When we motioned to them to 
 throw down their arms and surrender, some thought we meant that they 
 should fall on their knees. On getting hold of their arms, we usually broke 
 them over the edges of stones. In one place in the yard, were some seventy 
 prisoners all together, guarded by a few of our men detailed for the pur 
 pose. The guard neglected to break all of their arms, so there were, includ 
 ing those of our soldiers who had been killed, many serviceable muskets 
 scattered there over the ground. Some of the guard, instead of watching 
 their prisoners, turned around and were busy shooting at the enemy. A big, 
 burly Mexican sergeant, observing how carelessly they were guarded, 
 thought he could escape. He shouted out something to his companions in 
 Spanish, and springing to one side, picked up a loaded musket. Another of 
 the prisoners did the same. The sergeant then shot the sentinel nearest to 
 him through the stomach. This was my dirty Dutchman of Pittsburgh, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 471 
 
 who was flogged at Camp Salubrity. The Dutchman returned tho fire, but 
 missed and shot another prisoner who was not trying to escape, and then 
 died. The guard calling for help that the prisoners were escaping my 
 self and others ran to their aid. I gave chase to the Mexican sergeant, and 
 as my gun was discharged when I came up, he got the long, slender piece 
 of bright steel at the end of my musket which caused one Mexican less. 
 
 Shortly after this little emeute, the Mexicans were driven entirely from 
 these works, and they were destroyed. We had gained the victory, but at 
 an awful expense. Our loss in killed and wounded was over seven hundred 
 men, one-fourth of all our entire force in the action. We had, however, 
 driven fourteen thousand Mexicans from their fortifications, and taken over 
 eight hundred prisoners, among whom were some of their most skillful 
 generals. 
 
 My personal adventures this day were considerable. I had very many 
 narrow escapes. My clothing was pierced four times : 1. A musket ball 
 struck the band of my cap, just above my right ear. 2. A grape-shot cut 
 through the bottom of my pantaloons on the inside of my left ankle. 3. A 
 inu.sket ball passed through the inner side of my pantaloons at my right 
 thigh. 4. Another musket ball clipped the top of my left shoulder. 
 
 The battle of Molino del Key was -the severest action of the war. For 
 the time it lasted, it was almost unprecedented : as many men were here 
 killed and wounded in two hours, as at Buena Vista in two days. Such 
 hard fighting none of us ever before experienced : the very air appeared to 
 be full of fire and iron hail ; it was astonishing to me that we were not all 
 killed. 
 
 Some incidents that occurred I here detail. When the heat of the action 
 was over and only a few scattering shots were being exchanged, some of the 
 men went looking around over the premises to make discoveries. One of 
 them, a curious genius of Gr company, heard a voice calling to him, " Stev 
 ens, for heaven s sake, give me a little water ! " He sprang to supply the 
 poor fellow s wants ; on coming up to him, who should it prove to be but 
 Lester, who had some time previously deserted from his company, joined 
 the Mexicans, and was badly wounded in this battle ! He had recognized 
 Stevens, and supposing he would help him, had called to him, as we havo 
 seen. "Yes !" replied Stevens, "I ll give you water plenty of it!" and 
 so saying, he picked h.im up and threw him into the mill race. Lester, poor 
 Bcarnp, floated down over the water-wheel, and then disappeared under a 
 culvert where the water ran for more than a mile before it came to light 
 again. 
 
 " Stevens, that was too bad ! " exclaimed one of us to him. 
 
 " Good enough for a deserter ! " answered he, with an oath. 
 
 Another incident or two and I am done. When driven out from the mill, 
 the Mexicans fired upon us from Chapultepec. Their shot was taking effect 
 on a back-porch of a house in the yard, so that we kept shy of the place. 
 A soldier of the Fourteenth Infantry came along, apparently looking for 
 plunder. We warned him to keep away from that porch. " Oh ! " said he, 
 " I know what 1 m about," and carelessly loitered there in full view of the 
 enemy from tho castle. He came near being hit several times : finally a 
 heavy shot struck him in the haunch, knocking the whole left thigh right 
 
472 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 from under him. " Oh ! you d d rascals ! " he exclaimed, "you have got 
 me at last ! " and immediately died. 
 
 That evening those of us who survived had return ed to our old quarters 
 at Tacubaya; very many that had rested the last night in the building 
 were cold in death others were in the hospital groaning with agonizing 
 wounds. 
 
 The first duty after a battle is for the commanding officers to make 
 out a report of the transactions of their respective commands during the 
 fight, and send them in to the general. Lieutenant Gore in his company 
 report, had recommended Sergeant Howard, Private Montgomery, and my 
 self for meritorious conduct at Molino del Bey. By act of Congress any 
 non-commissioned officers so recommended were to receive commissions in 
 the army, and any private an additional monthly pay of two dollars. Old 
 
 , the officer whose duty it was to send these reports to Worth, got 
 
 beastly drunk, and never sent in our names at all. We thus lost our com 
 missions. This affair grieved us much. Howard declared he would not 
 stay in an army where such injustice was suffered ; as for myself, the injury 
 rankled in my breast for years. 
 
 Oar military operations were at this time retarded by the weather, for it 
 was> the rainy season. This kind of weather has a regularity in Mexico un 
 known to us. It operates in this way. You arise in the morning to find a 
 clear sky and a glorious sun. The trees have a peculiar freshness and a 
 cool, rich green, grateful to the eye. The bright blue sky continues until 
 noon or a little past, with a soft, bland air that makes every breath a luxury. 
 Delicious perfumes of tropical plants and fruits fill the atmosphere and en 
 hance the charms of these morning hours. Past noon small flecks of 
 clouds appear ; directly the whole heavens are overcast with dark masses, 
 and the rain begins to pour, accompanied more or less by thunder and light 
 ning. After midnight, the clouds vanish and the stars appear. When day 
 again dawns the weather of yesterday is repeated, with its bright sun, blue 
 sky, fresh foliage, luxurious atmosphere, delicious odors, and then angry 
 clouds, rain, thunder, and lightning. 
 
 General Scott next made arrangements to attack the fortifications of Cha- 
 pultepec. Our division was held in reserve, and it fell to the lot of others 
 to advance and carry out these operations. When the castle was taken, the 
 enemy came down in great numbers. We sprang up from our position and 
 pursued them some distance in their retreat toward the city. Wishing to 
 see the castle, I then ran around to the point from whence they had re 
 treated, ascended a long flight of steps, and got in just before General Scott 
 rode up. Our men were near.ly crazy with joy, hurraing and swinging 
 their caps. Nothing could surpass the scene. The soldiers crowded around 
 Scott in the wildest enthusiasm, cheering, catching him by the feet, and 
 manifesting every token of joy. The old soldier for a moment was entirely 
 overcome with emotion ; great tears rolled down his cheeks, nor did he at 
 tempt to wipe them away. Those tears arose frorn an overflowing heart 
 from gratitude to his brave men who loved him as children love a father. 
 Finally the beloved old general addressed them, the tears streaming all the 
 time. I recollect only these few words : " Fellow soldiers ! You have this 
 day been baptized in blood and fire, and you have come c-ut steel ! " I am 
 
OF AMERICANS. 473 
 
 not ashamed to confess I too was among the excited ones, for I cried like a 
 child. 
 
 A little after this, Corporal M Crelish, of my company, and myself, walked 
 out some distance on the San Cosme causeway toward the city. This 
 causeway runs north from Chapultepec about half a mile to the intersection 
 of another road, and then makes an angle and leads directly into the city. 
 At the angle was a battery, and between it and the city another still, and a 
 third battery was at the city gate, which was a strongly-fortified arched stone 
 work. We went as far as the angle, and at that time not a single Mexi 
 can soldier was to be seen between Chapultepec and the city gate. Had our 
 troops then advanced, the whole causeway could have been occupied with 
 simply the trouble of marching on to it. We immediately returned and 
 reported what we had seen, but without having any attention paid to us. 
 This neglect cost many lives. 
 
 Near noon, Worth ordered his division to advance on this route. Our 
 regiment was in front. In a few minutes we got warmly engaged with the 
 enemy, who had thrown troops into those batteries. We took shelter 
 behind the arches of the aqueduct, and ran from one to the other until 
 about one o clock, when we carried the first work and the enemy fell back 
 to the next nearer the gate. 
 
 While we were holding the first battery, General Scott came up and 
 ordered Worth to advance on the gate, called by the Mexicans " Garita." 
 Just about this time, the fragment of our company that was on the ground, 
 advanced alone and unsupported nearly up to the second battery. The 
 enemy had got some cannon and a large force of infantry in this work. Along 
 with our company was Sergeant Bloss, who that day was color- bearer, ile 
 had rashly advanced without his guard excepting two or three men. We 
 crept along with but little opposition until we arrived at a point where the 
 street widened. There Bloss attempted, in company with half a dozen 
 others, to cross to the other side, to a vacant space beside a house which 
 stood between it and the enemy. While running across, a perfect storm of 
 grape and musketry was poured into them. The rest of us remained under 
 the arches of the aqueduct, and the only officer near was Lieutenant Gore. 
 When this discharge came, Bloss was swept into eternity, and the colors 
 fell in the dust almost within reach of the enemy. As the Mexicans saw 
 them fall, they rushed out for them, yelling like demons. One of our men 
 thereupon sprang from behind the arches, seized them and thus saved 
 the honor of the regiment. I was on the start for that purpose myself, 
 but this man was too quick for me. The enemy still came bounding on, 
 shouting as they ran, and we retreated as fast as we could, for they 
 were too many for us. They chased us until we got back nearly to 
 the corner battery, when they were brought up by a load of grape- 
 shot from one of our guns. Our colors escaped by a very mvrrow chance 
 falling into their hands. Had they got them, it would have been an ever 
 lasting stigma upon us. For a regiment to lose its colors, in any other way 
 than by a surrender or the actual capture of the whole corps, is considered 
 as a sign of cowardice, for of all things the colors are to be defended. They 
 are the rallying point, the embodiment of the honor of the regiment, and 
 must be protected as long as a single soldier is left alive to fight for them* 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 When the other officers and men learned of this event they were much 
 alarmed, and it was kept as quiet as possible. Had the Mexicans captured 
 them, they would have crowed greatly over their prize. They would have 
 got a splendid trophy, for they were wounded at Monterey with twenty-six 
 balls, and in every battle more or less riddled. Sergeant Bloss was after a 
 commission when he acted so rashly. When we subsequently came *jp to 
 where he had fallen, we found him stripped entirely naked. The dirty 
 dogs had a habit of stripping our dead when they got a chance, especially 
 the officers whose clothes were valuable. It was not the case with Bloss, 
 however, for he had put on that day a miserable old worn out suit to save 
 his good ones ; and the only object the Mexicans had in stripping him, 
 doubtless was to vent their spite in failing to get our glorious old colors that 
 had waved in triumph over many a hard fought field. 
 
 Some time after the first battery was carried, our whole division moved 
 forward toward the Garita gate, which was then battered severely by our 
 twenty- four pounders. Outside of the gate was a collection of houses which 
 afforded us some protection. After skirmishing, digging through the walls, 
 passing through back-yards, and firing from the windows and the roofs of 
 houses, we finally, just before sunset, charged on the gate itself, and carried 
 it, and thus we were in the City of Mexico. 
 
 Worth now came up, and seeing some of us standing around, inquired : 
 
 "What regiment is this ?" 
 
 We answered ; upon which he replied : 
 
 " God bless the Fourth Infantry ! God bless them ! " 
 
 He ordered up the twenty- four pounders, and then said : 
 
 " Give em a few more shots, and I don t care a where they go ! " 
 
 It was done, and one of the shells fell and exploded in a nunnery, and 
 did considerable damage. Thai night we occupied the mansion of a Catho 
 lic bishop, close by the gate. It was a handsomely furnished establishment, 
 with fine beds, Brussels carpets, and paintings on the walls. We availed 
 ourselves of our privileges as conquerors, and searched very thoroughly, but 
 unsuccessfully, for money. For my own part, I did nothing more wicked 
 than to break into the buttery and regale myself with some nice preserves. 
 The next day the city surrendered. I here insert an extract from the 
 report of General Scott, giving the particulars of the surrender and a sum 
 mary of our operations in the Valley of Mexico. 
 
 "About four o clock next morning (September 14, 1847), a deputation of 
 the ayuntamiento (city council) waited upon me to report that the federal 
 government and the army of Mexico had fled from the capital some three 
 hours before ; and to demand terms of capitulation in favor of the church, 
 the citizens, and the municipal authorities. I promptly replied, that I would 
 sign no capitulation ; that the city had been virtually in our possession from 
 the time of the lodgments effected by Worth and Quitman the day before; 
 that I regretted the silent escape of the Mexican army ; that I should 
 levy upon the city a moderate contribution for special purposes ; and that 
 the American army should come under no terms not self-imposed : such 
 only as its own honor, the dignity of the United States, and the spirit of the 
 age, should, in my opinion, imperiously demand and impose. 
 
 Soon after we had entered, and were in the act of occupying the city, a 
 
OF AMERICANS. 475 
 
 fire was opened upon us from the flat roofs of the houses, from windows and 
 corners of streets, by some two thousand convicts, liberated the night before 
 by the flying government, joined by, perhaps, as many Mexican soldiers, 
 who had disbanded themselves, and thrown off their uniforms. This un 
 lawful war lasted more than twenty-four hours, in spite of the exertions of 
 the municipal authorities, and was not put down till we had lost many 
 men, including several officers, killed or wounded, and had punished tho 
 miscreants. Their objects were to gratify national hatred, and in the gene 
 ral alarm and confusion, to plunder the wealthy inhabitants, particularly the 
 deserted houses. But families are now generally returning; business of 
 every kind has been resumed, and the city is already tranquil and cheerful 
 under the admirable conduct (with exceptions very few and trifling) of our 
 gallant troops. 
 
 This army has been more disgusted than surprised, that by some sinister 
 process on the part of certain individuals at home, its numbers have been, 
 generally, almost trebled in our public papers, beginning at Washington. 
 
 Leaving, as we all feared, inadequate garrisons at Vera Cruz, Perote, and 
 Puebla, with much larger hospitals ; and being obliged, most reluctantly, 
 from the same cause (general paucity of numbers) to abandon Jalapa, we 
 marched (August 7-10) from Puebla with only ten thousand seven hundred 
 and thirty-eight rank and file. This number includes the garrison of Jalapa, 
 and the two thousand four hundred and twenty-nine men brought up by 
 Brigadier-General. Pierce, August 6. 
 
 At Contreras, Churubusco, etc., (August 20) we had but eight thousand 
 four hundred and ninety-seven men engaged after deducting the garrison 
 cf San Augustine (our general depot), the intermediate sick and the dead ; 
 at Molino del Rey (September 8), but three brigades, with some cavalry and 
 artillery making in all three thousand two hundred and fifty-one men 
 were in the battle ; in the two days September 12th and 13th our whole 
 operating force, after deducting again the recent killed, wounded, and sick, 
 together with the garrison of Miscoac (the then general depot) and that of 
 Tacubaya, was but seven thousand one hundred and eighty ; and finally, 
 after deducting the new garrison of Chapultepec, with the killed and 
 wounded of the two days, we took possession (September 14th) of this great 
 capital with less than six thousand men. And I reassert, upon accumulated 
 and unquestionable evidence, that in not one of those conflicts was this army 
 opposed by fewer than three-and-a-half times its numbers in several of 
 them by a yet greater excess. 
 
 I recapitulate our losses since we arrived in the basin of Mexico. 
 
 August 19, 20. Killed, one hundred and thirty- seven, including fourteen 
 officers. Wounded, eight hundred and seventy-seven, including sixty-two 
 officers. Missing (probably killed), thirty-eight rank and file. Total, one 
 thousand and fifty-two. 
 
 September 8. Killed, one hundred and sixteen, including nine officers. 
 Wounded six hundred and sixty-five, including forty-nine officers. Miss 
 ing, eighteen rank and file. Total, seven hundred and eighty-nine. 
 
 September 12, 13, 14. Killed, one hundred and thirty, including ten offi 
 cers. Wounded, seven hundred and three, including sixty-eight officers 
 Missing, twenty-nine rank and file. Total, eight hundred and sixty-two. 
 
476 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Grand total of losses, two thousand seven hundred and three, including 
 three hundred and eighty-three officers. 
 
 On the other hand, this small force has beaten on the same occasions, in 
 view of their capital, the whole Mexican army, of (at the beginning) thirty- 
 odd thousand men posted always in chosen positions, behind intrench- 
 ments or more formidable defenses of nature and art ; killed or wounded of 
 that number more than seven thousand officers and men ; taken three thou 
 sand seven hundred and thirty prisoners, one-seventh officers, including 
 thirteen generals, of whom three had been Presidents of this republic ; cap 
 tured more than twenty colors and standards, seventy-five pieces of ord 
 nance, beside fifty-seven wall pieces, twenty thousand small arms, an im 
 mense quantity of shots, shells, powder, etc. 
 
 Of that enemy, once so formidable in numbers, appointments, artillery, 
 etc., twenty -odd thousand have disbanded themselves in despair, leaving, as 
 is known, not more than three fragments the largest about two thousand 
 five hundred now wandering in different directions, without magazines or 
 a military chest, and living at free quarters upon their own people." 
 
 Well, here we were in the City of Mexico, and although it was evident 
 that our fighting was, for the present at least, over, yet immediate peace did 
 not appear probable. The people were disinclined to peace : they felt sore 
 and mortified under their many chastisements. To be whipped on every 
 single battle-field ; to be without one single victory over the "North Ameri 
 cans" was a very hard fact for their digestion for not -even one did the 
 bloody god vouchsafe to this hybrid race, who are so eternally worshiping 
 in his hideous temples. 
 
 Our duty was now altogether of guard. There were enough common 
 people in this city of two hundred thousand souls, had they had the energy, 
 to have crushed us with all ease. Half of our force had to be on post at 
 once to guard against insurrection. Our duty was very irksome, for the 
 other half, not on guard, were obliged to have on their belts, and their arms 
 close at hand, ready for any emergency. 
 
 Large quantities of tropical fruits were brought into the city to sell to the 
 soldiers. Many of the men became sick in consequence of over-indulgence. 
 The result was that our regimental commander issued orders against fruit- 
 venders, and also against the introduction of liquor into the quarters. A 
 Mexican was detected one day selling* liquor to our men ; by order of Lieu 
 tenant H., he was stripped, tied to a stack of muskets, and given forty 
 lashes with a raw-hide. The poor fellow begged for mercy, and promised 
 not to do so again : it was of no avail, he received the full number. I was 
 indignant at this cruelty, my blood boiled, and I could, with a good grace, 
 have sprung upon the officer and punished him for his uncalled-for severity. 
 He had no right to thus treat a citizen of another country. 
 
 I should like, had I space, to detail many things of interest connected 
 with our sojourn in the city the curiosities of the place, the customs of the 
 people, and incidents connected with ourselves there. These I must pasa 
 over. On the 16th of December, our division moved out of the city and 
 took up their quarters again at Tacubaya. 
 
 I will now speak somewhat at length upon the subject of punishment in 
 the army. Years ago, flogging for every offense, excepting desertion, waa 
 
OF AMERICANS. 477 
 
 abolished by law. It is necessary to discipline that punishments should ba 
 enforced ; but they ought to be of a reformatory nature. They are, how 
 ever, of a most degrading and disgusting character, worse in their tendency 
 even than flogging. It is common to speak of the savage as being refined 
 in cruelty ; but I will pit some officers of our army against the most accom 
 plished savage in inventive powers for inflicting suffering. The hellish 
 ingenuity of some of these men in torture would have made them an acqui 
 sition to the Spanish Inquisition in its most bloody era. Want of sympathy 
 for the soldier, and tyranny in their intercourse with him, are seldom or 
 never seen in officers appointed from civil life. Not so with many of the 
 graduates of West Point. They enter that institution mere boys. While 
 there, they are about as effectually secluded from the world, as girls in a 
 nunnery. On graduating, they are sent perhaps to some isolated post on the 
 frontier. The result is that they come to the command of soldiers without 
 any knowledge of men, and with the idea taught by the despotism of a mili 
 tary education, that the common soldier is but a little better than a brute. 
 " Why ! you should not talk to that man he is but a common soldier ! " 
 said a West Point cadet to a little brother there on a visit. Such is an inci 
 dent that illustrates the ideas of many of those officers, of the rank and file 
 of the army. With such ideas there can be no humanity felt for the sol 
 dier. We need not wonder then at the invention of some of the modes of 
 treating the offending soldiers, I here describe. 
 
 1. At Camp Salubrity a very common method of punishment was to 
 compel the offender to walk to and fro with the sentinel, for hours at a 
 time, carrying a log of fifty pounds weight on his shoulders ; then he would 
 be allowed to rest a half an hour or an hour. This is a very severe punish 
 ment, and if there was not danger of killing the man, he would not be al 
 lowed to rest at all. 2. Compelling the offender to stand on a barrel-head, 
 four hours on and one off, with a heavy log on his shoulders. This is worse 
 than the first. I ha,ve seen men in this position cry in agony, and when 
 it was impossible for nature to hold out any longer, to tumble off. 3. To 
 stand on a barrel-head with the face blackened like a negro. 4. The culprit 
 has a barrel put over him, with a hole in the top to receive his head, and 
 holes on the sides for his arms ; thus accoutered, and with face black 
 ened, he is compelled to walk post with the sentry. 5. A ball of from six 
 to thirty-two pounds weight is attached by a chain to his leg, 6. An iron 
 collar is put on his neck, with three projecting prongs, so that it is very dif 
 ficult for the wearer to lie down to rest. 7. Bucking is the name of another 
 severe punishment. The man is made to sit down with his knees drawn 
 up to his chest ; his wrists are tied together ; his elbows pulled down below 
 and back of his knees, and, when there, a strong stick is run through above 
 his elbows and under his legs. In this situation the man is entirely help 
 less and would die if not relieved. The more fleshy he is, the more severe 
 is the punishment. 
 
 I have repeatedly bucked Bailey, a man of my company, by order of an 
 officer, and placed him in the hot sun for six and eight hours at a time. 
 OK one occasion, while he was thus bucked, I released him to attend to 
 an imperative call. The officer discovered it and demanded my reasons 
 for it. 
 
478 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " By the Lord, sir ! " said he, when I had told him, " I have a notion to 
 serve you in the same way." 
 
 I answered that I thought I was doing right. 
 
 " By the Lord, sir ! " he again rejoined, " you have no right to think I 
 there are others to think for you." 
 
 The next day, he asked me if I had attended to a certain matter. I re 
 plied, " I did not think of it." 
 
 " Not think ! " exclaimed he, " what have you a head for, if it is not to 
 think?" 
 
 I told him then that yesterday he said "I had no right to think !" At 
 this he flew into an awful passion, and swore he would reduce me to the 
 ranks. This is only one of the numberless instances of the abuse and 
 indignity I suffered from tyranny while in the army. It is well for him or 
 any other officer, that I was not degraded by any of these disgusting pun 
 ishments. If I know my own heart, I believe I should have shot the author 
 of any such brutality to my person, if I had had to wait years a chance for 
 doing it. 
 
 Sometimes, when men are bucked or suffering other punishment, they 
 will yell or say something looking like defiance. In every instance of this 
 nature, I have known officers to order the man to be gagged with a stick or 
 the barrel-end of a bayonet, and sometimes with two bayonets. In these 
 instances the stick or bayonet is thrust into the mouth between the teeth 
 away to the root of the tongue ; strings are then fastened to the front of the 
 stick or bayonet, and tied taut to the back of the neck. The man thus 
 gagged is incapable of uttering a word. I have seen men with their thumbs 
 fastened together by a string the other end of the string slipped over a 
 nail or peg driven so high that the poor fellows, with arms stretched over 
 their heads, have been obliged to stand on tiptoe, and, even in that position, 
 to bear a great part of their weight on their thumbs. When in this cruel 
 posture, I have known officers so hard-hearted as to walk away regardless 
 3f the most piteous cries for mercy. 
 
 I have seen good old soldiers, that had been in the service of their coun 
 try for upward of twenty years, punished for some little indiscretion by 
 some young officer, just graduated from West Point, who wanted to show 
 his authority, and who himself was, at the very moment, reeling from the 
 previous night s debauch. I witnessed at Tacubaya, in the main plaza, 
 some men of the Fifth Infantry tied to heavy pieces of wood in the form of 
 a cross, with their arms stretched out and then laid on their backs, with 
 their faces to the burning sun of Mexico : there they remained until many 
 of thorn* had to be carrred to the hospital in a fainting condition. I have 
 known many men in good health to be punished in some of these ways, to 
 be taken sick immediately after, be carried to the hospital, and then not to 
 come from thence until they were carried out feet foremost. Who were 
 their murderers ? 
 
 How much was there I never saw ! Bitterly have I heard men complaia 
 of their officers, when on guard with me out of officers hearing. Many a 
 man have I heard say, "Well, I will never rush in and fight and hurra so 
 hard again to brevet a scoundrel, that abuses me as some of our officers do." 
 These tyrannical officers sometimes get what they deserve from their own 
 
OF AMERICANS. 479 
 
 men in time of battle a bullet in their bodies. I relate an instance I know 
 of, in which, I believe, an officer fell a victim to the revenge of one of his 
 men. 
 
 On the 18th of August, 1847, the army arrived at San Augustine. That 
 evening some of the men imbibing too freely of muscat, became very noisy. 
 Among these was one Keith, an excellent soldier, but of such a tempera 
 ment, when in the-least intoxicated, that he was as bereft of reason as a 
 maniac. He fell under the notice of Captain Ferguson, for so shall we here 
 call this officer, it being injudicious, in a matter of this kind, to give the 
 true name. This officer was naturally hasty in disposition and harsh in en 
 forcing discipline. He ran over to where Keith was, and ordered him to bo 
 quiet. The latter, overstepping all military discipline, retaliated with impu 
 dent wx>rds. Ferguson should have waited until the man was sober before 
 he called him to an account ; but forgetting he had an intoxicated man to 
 deal with, he drew his sword and struck the soldier across the back with 
 the flat of it. Keith upon this sprang to grapple with the captain, but was 
 stopped by the interference of the bystanders, and then carried to the 
 guard-house. While on his way there, he shouted out at the top of his 
 voice, " I 11 kill that Captain Ferguson, if I have to wait ten years for the 
 chance." Ferguson heard the threat, knew the revengeful disposition of 
 Keith, and feared the result. 
 
 The division, the next day, was ordered to advance against the enemy, 
 and as Keith was not confined by order of court-martial, Ferguson, accord 
 ing to the rules on such occasions, was obliged to order his release from con 
 finement, so he could take part in the action which ensued at Churubusco. 
 Ferguson, knowing his peril from this man, selected two of his company 
 whom he supposed to be friendly, and secretly instructed them, when they 
 got into battle, to closely watch Keith, and if they saw him raise his mus 
 ket and aim at him, to shoot him down. 
 
 A second thought would have shown Captain Ferguson the futility of 
 this measure, from the fact that men in battle have to attend to more, press 
 ing business than watching each other, especially in such battles as ensued. 
 For when fortifications are stormed, troops become scattered and disorgan 
 ized, and lose sight of everything in the confusion, smoke, and wild excite 
 ment of the fight. And such would be the very moment that a man, if so 
 inclined, would select to murder an officer. I rather think that in the 
 storming process those two men found they had enough to do to watch the 
 enemy, and did not give much if any thought to the personal safety of 
 either Ferguson or Keith. 
 
 As it happened, both officer and man came out of this fight unharmed, 
 and nothing more was said or thought of this matter by the men until after 
 the hard- fought battle of Molino del Rey. In the meantime Keith was 
 known to repeat his threat that he would some day kill his captain. Fer 
 guson heard of it, and when the order was given to attack the Molino, he 
 again instructed his two men to watch the malignant private. Well, the 
 troops went in, and the battle was fought ; Captain Ferguson was shot by 
 a musket ball dead upon the field, but Keith was missing. The general 
 impression in the company, in view of all the circumstances, was, that 
 Keith killed Ferguson and then fled to the interior of the country, for ha 
 
480 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 was never seen nor heard of afterward, either living or dead. If the im 
 pression was true, then the poor officer received an awful punishment for 
 his hasty temper, when he fell a victim to the revenge of the soldier. 
 
 While we were at Tacubaya, several expeditions were gotten up to visit 
 different parts of the country adjacent to the Valley of Mexico. One of 
 these parties visited the English silver mines ; another climbed to the top 
 of Popocatapetl, looked down into its crater, planted, and. left the American 
 flag floating on its summit. I never had the good luck to go with any of 
 these parties. I longed to do so, and, begging for permission, was denied. 
 What do officers care for a soldier s wants or feelings in such matters they 
 don t suppose it is possible for a soldier to have a laudable curiosity in these 
 wonders of nature, or any philosophical ideas on any subject ; he can t be 
 anything else than a mere brute a two-legged machine solely of use in the 
 purposes of war. 
 
 At our camp, Worth thoroughly drilled the division in field maneuvers, 
 He was such a splendid tactitian that it was a pleasure to drill under him. 
 This thorough drill gave the army an efficiency it never before had attained. 
 We were often reviewed by Scott, when our fine appearance delighted the 
 old general. The history of his arrest and trial is before the country. 
 When this infamous farce took place, the whole regular army, with one 
 united voice, cried "shame! shame!" Even the most common soldier 
 knew that it all arose from the meanest jealousy of the laurels of the gal 
 lant old chieftain. When he was summoned away on his trial, the mingled 
 indignation and sorrow of our men was intense. For my own part, I am 
 not ashamed to confess it, I sat down and cried. Why, I can hardly state ; 
 but I loved the old general like a father, and when he was thus insulted 
 nnd wronged, I felt that through him the whole army, down to the most 
 humble soldier, was also insulted and wronged. 
 
 In the month of May it was known we were to have peace. As I had 
 but one year more to remain in the army, I was, in a measure, indifferent 
 to where I was to be ordered. On the llth of June, 1848, peace having 
 been declared, our division took up its march for Vera Cruz. As we left 
 Tacuboya we were followed some distance by women and girls who had 
 formed attachments with the soldiers. In many cases where the Mexican 
 girls had formed connections with the men, the latter had promised to re- 
 maiu behind in the country, and marry them. Many were the sad hearts 
 and streaming eyes among those Mexican maidens as we took up our line 
 of march. Doubtless the sorrows of numbers of the poor creatures had a 
 reality about them, that partook largely of the future. Twiggs division 
 was followed by some of those trusting girls even to Vera Cruz, in hopes 
 that the men of their affections would desert and remain behind. A few 
 did, but the majority of the poor things were doomed to disappointment. 
 
 On arriving at Puebla, we found the melancholy effects of the siego 
 plainl\ r shown in the shattered dwellings and dilapidated air spread over 
 everything. This event had taken place just after the surrender of Mexicc\ 
 when Santa Anna, in his flight, stopped before the city, and with the rem 
 nants of his army, summoned Colonel Childs, who was there guarding tho 
 sick, to surrender. The Mexican was as unfortunate in the result as on all 
 previous occasions when he encountered the American arms. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 481 
 
 At Perote we remained one day. There, just outside of the castle, was 
 presented to our view a sad sight the newly-made graves of nearly a thou 
 sand of our countrymen : the hardships of the campaigns and the climate 
 of Mexico were more fatal to our arms than Mexican valor. More than 
 twenty thousand Americans perished in our war with Mexico, and of these 
 less than two thousand were killed in battle, according to the statistics given 
 in Mansfield s history. My regiment, the Fourth Infantry, lost one hundred 
 and eight men by disease, and only thirty-five in battle. The statistics of 
 most wars give similar results. Disease is a worse foe to the soldier than 
 gunpowder. 
 
 On nearing the Black Pass, we saw the ruins of cabins, the relics of a 
 fight Captain Walker had there with some Mexican guerrillas. He hung 
 the prisoners and burnt their habitations. Not many days after, in ascend 
 ing a little rise of ground we came in sight of Vera Cruz from which we 
 were only a few miles distant. The soldiers at this gave a spontaneous 
 shout, " that is the Gulf look, see the ships ! " they exclaimed, and then 
 hurried on, imagining they were almost home. 
 
 On the 16th of July, 1848, our regiment embarked on board a steamship 
 and left the soil of Mexico forever. Only a little more than sixteen months 
 had elapsed since we. had landed on this coast, and yet how changed we 
 were ! Many of our comrades that had entered with us, full of life and 
 vigor, had yielded to inexorable fate, and laid down their bones in an ene 
 my s country, unknown and uncared-for there to mingle their dust with 
 the lava of ancient volcanoes in the land of the ancient Aztec sun-worship 
 ers. They filled no dishonorable graves : at the call of their country, they 
 had fought, suffered, bled, and died. As millions upon millions of the 
 human race had done before them, they fell victims to the insatiable Demon 
 of War. 
 
 How many faces could there be counted of that regiment, that on the 
 23d of July, 1845, had embarked at New Orleans on board the old ship 
 Sophia ? Not over fift} r out of the four hundred. Death, by battle and by 
 disease, had wasted us away. How changed were the survivors ! Instead 
 of the bright eye of youth, and the full cheeks betokening vigorous health, 
 what did we behold V An emaciated, cadaverous-looking band, with sunken, 
 sickly faces, and frames reduced to little more than skeletons. I had per 
 sonally escaped every peril, and still live to write this narrative ; but at this 
 lapse of time, considering how our constitutions were shattered by our trials, 
 it is doubtful if a dozen of my old comrades are this day alive. 
 
 On the 23d of July, just three years,, to a day, from the time we left New 
 Orleans, we landed at East Pascagoula, Mississippi. Why the troops were 
 ever sent to this part of the country, I never could understand ; for a more 
 unhealthy spot does not exist. The land was low and sandy, and the only 
 way we could procure water was by sinking barrels in the ground. The 
 water was brackish, of a vile taste, which it got from the roots, of trees of 
 the adjoining pine forests. The dysentery and other diseases carried off 
 our men like the rot with sheep. The steward of the hospital told me 
 that, out of the part of the army stationed there, over four hundred died. 
 Many of our men here deserted : they were driven to it by the hardships 
 they endured poor fare, hard work, disease, and the dismal prospect of th* 
 
482 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 future. Among these was Sergeant Howard, in whose bosom still festered 
 the great wrong by which he was deprived of his commission. The soldier 
 swears to faithfully serve his country for the period of his enlistment ; but 
 if his country is false to her duty to him, he is morally absolved from his 
 obligation. We were here once visited by General Taylor, tnen a candi 
 date for the Presidency. 
 
 In October, we left for New Orleans. Our regiment was to go from thence 
 to the Northern Lakes. On arriving at that city, we found that, instead of 
 ascending the Mississippi, we were to go around by sea to New York. Well 
 a steamer took us down to the ship. What was our astonishment to find 
 that it was the very same old hulk, the Sophia, in which we had left New 
 Orleans for Texas, three years before. When I looked up and saw this same 
 old lousy, filthy, miserable vessel, I fairly groaned. Is it possible, thought 
 I, that there are officers who have no more feeling for the poor soldier than 
 this ! We clambered aboard and found the ship in a disma 1 condition : it 
 had not been washed or in any manner cleaned. It was the general remark 
 of the men that they believed that, now the war was ended, the government 
 designed to drown us. It will be asked why this was so ? why better 
 ships were not provided ? The answer is, that this old hulk could be hired 
 for a mere song, and so enlarge the profits of some rascally contractor, who 
 wielding political influence at Washington, was too important a personage 
 not to be allowed to cheat in all possible ways, by those of our rulers who 
 do so love the dear people. 
 
 On the morning of the 7th, when we had been out two days, on going 
 on deck I found the sky overcast with masses of heavy black clouds, and 
 the wind increasing every moment. It now occurred to me that we had not 
 had our 3 equinoctial storm, and, sure as could be, this was it. The stench 
 was so horrible between decks, that I determined not to .pass another night 
 there ; so I clambered on top of a pile of boxes that had beer lashed against 
 the cabin, took an old sail and placed it into a vacant space there, and wrap 
 ping myself up in my blanket, found I was very comfortably fixed. Just 
 then Twitmiller, a man of Gr company, came on deck : I saw he was dis 
 gusted with things below, and I said : 
 
 " Twitmiller, how are the folks down in ? " 
 
 "My heavens !" said he, "it is , sure enough, and if I can find any 
 
 place here, I will not go down there again." 
 
 He was a clever fellow, and, taking compassion on him, I invited him to 
 come up and share my berth with me. We then vowed that not another 
 soul should come near us, and so kept the place to ourselves the rest of the 
 voyage. About the fifth day out, the storm had increased to such a degree 
 that we were obliged to hold on to something for fear of either being washed 
 overboard or falling headlong from our position. It seemed evident that 
 the masts must be cut away, and two men stood ready with axes for that 
 purpose. The air was so full of spray that, at the middle of the day, it 
 was of a twilight darkness. On the eighth day, the rudder got out of order, 
 and the vessel became nearly unmanageable. We had been so long without 
 an observation that our captain had lost his reckoning. On the morning of 
 the ninth, everything looked exceedingly gloomy. We had nothing to 
 eat for six days but hard biscuit, and it was beginning to tell upon our men. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 483 
 
 One soldier was found dead this morning, and by nine o clock another died. 
 The captain of the ship expressed himself as utterly at loss to know what" 
 to do ; he said we must be near the coast of Cuba, and that if we escaped 
 foundering, we were in imminent danger of being thrown upon the rocks. 
 The waves exceeded in violence everything that I ever saw or read of. 
 About noon the man on lookout shouted, in a very excited and loud voice, 
 " Island of rocks, and breakers on tlie lee shore ! " At this the captain ran 
 forward, and throwing up his glass to his eye, he steadied himself against 
 the mainmast, and for a moment looked at the dangerous object, and as 
 soon as he saw it he turned deathly pale and yelled to the crew to " about 
 ship." Now this was a hard business to do with a broken rudder, but finally 
 they managed to accomplish it and thus escaped the danger. In the 
 afternoon we passed the hull of a large vessel, bottom up and another sol 
 dier died. During these days of suffering the officers kept themselves shut 
 up in the cabin, and in the course of that night, one of them, Lieutenant 
 Perry, also died. Ah ! but that was a long and dreadful night. I could 
 see the ship make every plunge. About four o clock in the morning, I was 
 certain that our time had come : such fearful lurches as the ship made, I 
 never dreamed of. At this, juncture we shipped a tremendous sea, which 
 went all over the vessel and nearly washed us away. 
 
 "We are gone!" exclaimed my companion. 
 
 " I guess so ! " I replied, and had no sooner uttered the words than there 
 came another sea, if possible, still more terrible than the former. I thought it 
 was the last that we should sink the next moment. I thought it very 
 hard, that now we had got through the perils of -the war and expected to 
 take things easy, it was only to find speedy graves beneath the waters of the 
 Gulf of Mexico. After this the waves did not seem to be so high as that 
 it was the parting salute. By three o clock in the afternoon, the sky was 
 clear, the wind began to die away, and the next morning we were becalmed. 
 A stearn-tug, that came out to search for wrecks, found us and towed us 
 back to New Orleans. 
 
 I was at this time very much reduced in health, and obtained a furlough 
 of a month. I was glad to get off the ship. The first thing I did, was to 
 go to a hotel, take a bath, and clean myself thoroughly. I then put on a 
 clean suit, and casting those I had worn into the street, saw a rag-picker 
 seize them, and that was the last view I had of the "old duds." I was 
 weak, very weak, but felt like a new being. I then engaged a passage on a 
 steamer for Cincinnati, and there met with an accident that grieved me more 
 than anything since I enlisted : my trunk was broken open, my clothing 
 and thirty-nine dollars stolen. This, however, did not trouble me. It was 
 the loss of my journal that I had kept all the time I was in the army. It 
 was a faithful narrative of all my marches, battles, and other incidents 
 through the whole Mexican War. In it was noted each day s transactions, 
 and to me it was invaluable. I had carried it through t^ck and thin, and 
 had held on to it when everything else was thrown away. Had the thief 
 only returned it, I would not have said a word about the money and the 
 clothing. 
 
 At the expiration of my furlough, I rejoined my company at Fort Niagara. 
 I remained in the service until December of 1849, in the meanwhile-- nar- 
 31 
 
484 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 rowlj escaping death from the cholera. The period of my enlistment then 
 expired ; my colonel made out my discharge, and, as he handed it to me, 
 he said : 
 
 " Sergeant Reeves, here is your discharge. You are honorably discharged 
 from the service of the United States. You have been a good soldier ; 
 you have conducted yourself honorably, and done your duty to your coun 
 try. May you prosper wherever you go, and the lesson that you have ex 
 perienced, the last five years, be such that you will never regret it." 
 
 The lieutenant made out my papers, which amounted to over two hun 
 dred dollars. I then shook hands with the officers ; going to the quarters, 
 I did the same with the men, and then bade farewell to the army forever. 
 Thus ended my experience in the service of my country. I had gono 
 through the perils of many battles without a wound, only a few years later 
 to have my right arm blown off by the premature discharge of a can 
 non on a Fourth of July celebration ; so that this narrative is of necessity 
 a left-handed production. 
 
 As the reader has finished this article, it is to be inferred that a few lines 
 additional, in explanation, will be agreeable. Some few months since, we 
 accidentally fell in with a young man who had been in our army five years, 
 embracing in that period that of our war with Mexico, and whose descrip 
 tive faculty appeared such that we at once engaged him to write a narrative 
 of his adventures. The result was a very copious record, which we havo 
 here presented in a much abridged form the original comprising nearly 
 five hundred manuscript pages. We think it will be judged a vivid sketch. 
 It is drawn from nature, and when that is faithfully copied, it will be found 
 to interest, especially in a department of human experience so varied and 
 exciting as that of the life of a soldier in time of war. 
 
NARRATIVE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 AM-CBICAN ARCTIC EXPEDITION, 
 
 IN SEARCH OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN, 
 UNDER THE COMMAND OF 
 
 DR. ELISHA KENT KANE, U. S. N. 
 
 !tfo American ever so suddenly or more deservedly achieved a wide repu 
 tation, than did the late Dr. Kane. His character combined a rare union of 
 intellectual and moral qualities, which being signally shown in a great mis 
 sion of benevolence and peril, drew the attention of all men, so that he at 
 once attained universal regard. He was a scholar and at the same time an 
 adventurer; to the loftiest intrepidity he united the most shrinking modesty. 
 Possessing a delicate frame, rapidly crumbling under disease, an indomitable 
 will enabled him to conquer hardships and sufferings under which the strong 
 est sank. When his assigned task was performed and his great mission 
 ended, then he, too, perished, young in years, but destined to be old in 
 fame, and leaving this lesson to his countrymen By greatness of deeds, and 
 not by time, is the work of life to be measured. 
 
 To the very many who possess his <{ modest and thrilling narrative," 
 what we give here will be superfluous. An outline history, from pub 
 lished sources, is all that can come within our compass to present of that 
 American Expedition to the cold and icy north, in which was blended, 
 on the part of its commander, so much of heroism, self-reliance, genius, 
 and enterprise. 
 
 Sir John Franklin, whose fate has been the object of such solicitude, was 
 one of the most intrepid of Arctic explorers. He sailed from the shores of 
 England, for the last time, in May, 1845. Two ships, the Erebus and the 
 Terror, manned by one hundred and thirty-eight select, resolute, and expe 
 rienced seamen, composed the vessels and forces under his command. Tho 
 ships were the best vessels,*and the best provided, that had ever breasted 
 the ice and storms of the far north. The objects of the expedition were the 
 survey of the northwest coast of America, and the accomplishment of a 
 northwest passage, along the same coast, from the waters of the Atlantic 
 into those of the Pacific Ocean. They had abundant provisions for three 
 years. On the 26th of July, a little more than two months after their de 
 parture, they were seen by a whaler moored to an iceberg, waiting for an 
 opening through the vast body of ice which extends along the middle of 
 
 (485) 
 
486 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Baffin s Bay, to prosecute their voyage. Since then no human eye has 
 been known to rest upon either of the ships of this unfortunate expedition. 
 Possibly some unhappy survivors may yet be lingering out a miserable ex 
 istence on the shores of that great sea which, for ages unseen and unknown 
 by man, has been tossing in fury under the storms of the farthest north. 
 It is more probable that every soul, long since, has perished, and that tho 
 fate of Sir John Franklin and his hapless crews will ever remain, in the an 
 nals of human adventure, one of the most melancholy of all mysteries. 
 
 Toward the close of the year 1847, the people of England began to be 
 alarmed in regard to the fate of Franklin. Three expeditions were 
 promptly dispatched in search of him. Returning unsuccessful, others and 
 still others were sent out on this great errand of humanity, covering a series 
 of many years and an expenditure of more than four millions of dollars. 
 All was of no avail. The first winter quarters of Franklin were, however, 
 discovered on Beechy Island by a few relics, among which were the grave * 
 of three of his men. The opinion was also then formed that Sir John had 
 passed with his vessels through Wellington Channel into the great Polar 
 Sea beyond, away north of the point of intense cold, where the milder tem 
 perature and the existence of many forms of animal life to serve for food 
 gave the hope that he might yet have been living. Later, in March, 1854, 
 Dr. Rae, at the head of an overland expedition of the Hudson Bay Com 
 pany, met some Esquimaux at Pelly Bay, from whom he obtained several 
 articles which were identified as belonging to various members of Sir John 
 Franklin s party. 
 
 The possession of these articles by the Esquimaux was accounted for by 
 a story which is related in the following extract from Dr. Rae s journal, 
 published soon after his arrival in England : " On the morning of the 20th 
 we were met by a very intelligent Esquimaux, driving a dog-sledge laden 
 with musk-ox beef. This man at once consented to accompany us two 
 days journey, and in a few minutes had deposited his load on the snow, 
 and was ready to join us. Having explained to him my object, he said that 
 the road by which he had come was the best for us ; and, having lightened 
 the men s sledges, we traveled with more facility. We were now joined by 
 another of the natives, who had been absent seal-hunting yesterday, but, 
 being anxious to see us, had visited our snow-house early this morning, and 
 then followed up our track. This man was very communicative, and, on 
 putting to him the usual questions as to his having seen white man be 
 fore, or any ships or boats, he replied in the negative ; but said that a party 
 of Kabloomans had died of starvation a long distance to the west of 
 where we then were, and beyond a large river. He stated that he did not 
 know the exact place, that he never had been there, and that he could not 
 accompany us so far. The substance of the information then and subse 
 quently obtained from various sources was to the .following effect : 
 
 In the spring, four winters past (1850), while some Esquimaux familiei 
 were killing seals near the north shore of a large island, named in Arrow- 
 smith s charts King William s Land about forty white men were seen travel 
 ing in company southward over the ice, and dragging a boat and sledges 
 with them. They were passing along the west shore of the above-named 
 island. None of the party could speak the Esquimaux language so well as 
 
OF AMERICANS. 487 
 
 to be understood, but by signs the natives were led to believe that the ship 
 or ships had been crushed by ice, and that they were now going to where 
 they expected to find deer to shoot. From the appearance of the men all 
 of whom, with the exception of an officer, were hauling on the drag-ropes 
 of the sledge, and looked thin they were then supposed to be getting short 
 of provisions ; and they purchased a small seal, or piece of seal, from tho 
 natives. The officer was described as being a tall, stout, middle-aged man. 
 When their day s journey terminated, they pitched tents to rest in. 
 
 At a later date the same season? but previous to the disruption of the ice, 
 the corpses of some thirty persons and some graves were discovered on the 
 continent, and five dead bodies on an island near it, about a long day s jour 
 ney to the northwest of the mouth of a large stream, which can be no other 
 than Back s Great Fish River (named by the Esquimaux Oot-koo-hi-ca-lik), 
 as its description and that of the low shore in the neighborhood of Point 
 Ogle and Montreal Island agree exactly with that of Sir George Back. 
 Some of the bodies were in a tent, or tents ; others were under the boat, 
 which had been turned over to form a shelter ; and some lay scattered about 
 in different directions. Of those seen on the island, it was supposed that 
 one was that of an officer (chief), as he had a telescope strapped over his 
 shoulders, and a double-barreled gun lay underneath him. 
 
 From the mutilated state of many of the bodies, and the contents of the 
 kettles, it is evident that our wretched countrymen had been driven to the 
 dread alternative of cannibalism as a means of sustaining life. A few of the 
 unfortunate men must have survived until the arrival of the wild-fowl (say 
 until the end of May), as shots were heard, and fresh bones and feathers of 
 geese were noticed near the scene of the sad event. 
 
 There appears to have been an abundant store of ammunition, as the gun 
 powder was emptied by the natives in a heap on the ground out of the kegs 
 or cases containing it, and a quantity of shot and ball was found below 
 high-water mark, having probably been left on the ice close to the beach 
 before the spring commenced. There must have been a number of tele 
 scopes, guns (several of them double-barreled), watches, compasses, etc., 
 all of which seem to have been broken up, as I saw pieces of these diffe 
 rent articles with the natives, and I purchased as many as possible, together 
 with some silver spoons and forks, an Order of Merit in the form of a star, 
 and a small silver plate engraved Sir John Franklin, K. C. B. 
 
 Dr. Rae concludes by expressing the opinion that no violence had been 
 offered to the sufferers by the natives, but that they were starved to death. 
 The following is a list of the articles obtained from the Esquimaux : One 
 silver table-fork crest, an animal s head with wings extended above ; 
 three silver table-forks crest, a bird with wings extended ; one silver table 
 spoon crest, with initials F. R. M. C. (Captain Crozier, Terror) ; one silver 
 table-spoon and one fork crest, bird with laurel-branch in mouth, motto, 
 Spero meliora ; one silver table-spoon, one tea-spoon, and one dessert- 
 fork crest, a fish s head looking upward, with laurel-branches on each side ; 
 one silver table- fork initials, *H. D.fJ. G. (Harry D. S. Goodsir, assistant- 
 surgeon, Erebus) ; one silver table-fork initials, A. M D. (Alexander 
 M Donald, assistant surgeon, Terror) ; one silver table-fork initials, G. A, 
 M. (Gillies A. Macbean, second master, Terror) ; one silver table-fork 
 
488 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 initials, J. T. ; one silver dessert-spoon initials, M. S. P. (John S. Fed 
 die, surgeon, Erebus) ; a round silver plate, engraved, * Sir John Franklin 
 K. C. B. ; a star or order, with motto, Nee aspera terrent, G. R. Ill 
 MDCCCXV. 
 
 On obtaining the above information, Dr. Rae instantly hastened to Eng 
 land, for the purpose of preventing any further expeditious being dispatched 
 in search of the lost navigators. His report, as might have been expected, 
 was subjected on all hands to criticism and comment. Many were ot 
 opinion that the information obtained di(J not warrant the conclusion that 
 the whole party was lost. Some of the criticisms made on his report in 
 duced Dr. Rae to take up the pen in self-defense ; and in a letter which he 
 addressed to the editor of the London Times, we find the following remarks, 
 which come with great weight from one who, of all others, is most compe 
 tent to speak authoritively. They were written in reply to an attack 
 made upon him by a gentleman who had a relative with the lost expedi 
 tion, and serve to show how difficult it is to form a correct judgment on 
 subjects of which we have not had personal experience. 
 
 " It is asked by your correspondent," says Dr. Rae, " where Esquimaux 
 can live, where Dr. Rae s party could find abundant means, what should 
 prevent Sir John Franklin and his party from subsisting too ? 
 
 No man but one perfectly unacquainted with the subject could ask such 
 a question. At the season when Sir John Franklin s party was seen travel 
 ing over the ice, the seal-holes are covered by snow, and can only be 
 discovered by the acute sense of smell of the native dogs ; and, after the 
 seal-hole is discovered, much patience, experience, and care are requisite to 
 kill the seal. As soon as the snow thaws (say in June) the seals show 
 themselves on the ice ; but they are then so difficult of approach that not 
 one of my men (Ouglibuck, the interpreter, excepted), although they often 
 made the attempt, could approach near enough to shoot any of these 
 animals. 
 
 I wintered at a part of the Arctic coast remarkable by its geographical for 
 mation for the abundance of deer during the autumn migrations, but only 
 then ; and it was at that time that we laid up our winter stock of food ; but 
 it was hard work even for us (all practiced sportsmen, picked men, and in full 
 strength and training) to collect a sufficiency. 
 
 That portion of country near to and on which a portion of Sir John 
 Franklin s party was seen is, in the spring, notoriously the most barren of 
 animal life of any of the Arctic shores ; and the few deer that may be seen 
 are generally very shy, from having been hunted during the winter by In 
 dians, on the borders of the woodlands. To prove this scarcity of game, I 
 may add, that during my spring journey of fifty-six days duration, one 
 deer only and a few partridges were shot by us. 
 
 It is asked by your correspondent, Why the unfortunate men should 
 have encumbered themselves with silver forks and spoons and silver 
 plates ? etc. The total weight of the silver forks and spoons could not be 
 more than four or five pounds at tha utmost, and would not appear much 
 when divided among forty persons ; and any officer who has ever had the 
 misfortune to abandon his ship or boat anywhere, but more particularly in 
 the Arctic sea, knows how apt men are to encumber themselves with articles 
 
OF AMERICANS. 489 
 
 far more useless and bulky than a few forks and spoons. I suppose, by 
 silver plates, your correspondent alludes to the silver plate with Sir John 
 Franklin s name engraved thereon, and which may possibly weigh half an 
 ounce no great addition to a man s load. 
 
 Again, your correspondent says, that the ships have been abandoned, and 
 pillaged by the Esquimaux. In this opinion I perfectly agree so far as the 
 abandonment of the ships, but not that the ships were pillaged by the na 
 tives. Had this been the case, wood would have been abundant among 
 these poor people. It was not so, and they were reduced to the necessity 
 of making their sledges of musk-ox skins folded up and frozen together 
 an alternative to which the want of wood alone could have reduced them. 
 Another proof that the natives had very little wood among them may be 
 adduced. Before leaving Repulse Bay, I collected together some of the 
 most respectable of the old Esquimaux, and distributed among them all the 
 wood we could spare, amounting to two or three oars and some broken 
 poles. When these things were delivered to them, I bade the Esquimaux 
 interpreter, who speaks both his own and the English language fluently, to 
 ask whether they or their .acquaintances near Pelly Bay had now most 
 wood. They all immediately shouted out, holding up their hands, that 
 they themselves had most. I need scarcely add that, had the ships been 
 found by the Esquimaux, a stock of wood sufficient for many years for all 
 the natives within an extent of several hundred miles would have been 
 obtained." 
 
 This evidence shows the fate of thirty-five of Franklin s men ; but there 
 were yet one hundred and three to be accounted for, together with the ships, 
 and these remained involved in as much mystery as ever. 
 
 Sympathy is one of the greatest of human impulses, and when united to 
 curiosity and a spirit of adventure, it leads to the truest heroism. These 
 protracted searches aroused the sympathy of other nations, and two succes- 
 bive expeditions were dispatched from our own young country to aid in the 
 search for the long-lost mariners. 
 
 The first American Expedition left New York in May, 1850. It was sent 
 out by Mr. Henry Grinnell, an opulent merchant of that city, and is known 
 as the " First Grinnell Expedition." It consisted of two small brigs, the 
 Advance and the Rescue, under the command of Lieutenant E. De Haven, a 
 young naval officer. Dr. E. K. Kane was surgeon and naturalist, and wrote 
 a history of the expedition which, after a variety of adventure, returned in 
 a little less than sixteen months. 
 
 The " Second Grinnell Expedition," popularly known as " Kane s Expe 
 dition," sailed from New York, May 30th, loo. J. It consisted of a single 
 vessel, the Advance, a small brig of one hundred and forty-four tuns burden, 
 furnished by Mr. Grinnell. The expenses were contributed by various so 
 cieties and individuals, among the latter of whom was Mr. Peabody, the 
 eminent London banker, originally from Massachusetts. Dr. Kane, the 
 commander, had under him eighteen chosen men, all young, and mostly 
 less than thirty years of life. 
 
 " The specific features of Dr. Kane s plan of research consisted in making 
 the land-masses of the north of Greenland the basis of operations, assuming, 
 from the analogies of geographical structure, that Greenland was to ba 
 
490 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 regarded as a peninsula approaching the vicinity of the pole, rather than a 
 congeries of islands connected by interior glaciers. On this hypothesis, the 
 course was to pass up Baffin s Bay to the most northern attainable point, and 
 thence, pressing on toward the Pole, as far as boats or sledges could reach. 
 to examine the coast-lines for vestiges of the lost party. The equipment 
 for the expedition was simple. A quantity of rough boards to serve for 
 housing the vessel in winter, some India-rubber arid canvas tents, and seve 
 ral strong sledges, built on a convenient model, completed tfee outfit. For 
 provisions, they took a liberal supply of pemmican, a parcel of Borden g 
 meat biscuit, some packages of prepared potato, a store of dried fruits 
 and vegetables, beside pickled cabbage, the salt beef and pork of the navy 
 ration, hard biscuit and flour. A moderate supply of liquors made up the 
 bill of fare, although the party were pledged to total abstinence from this 
 article, unless dispensed by special order. 
 
 In a month after leaving New York, and on the 1st of July, the Advance 
 arrived at the harbor of Fiskernaes, in Greenland, among the clamor of its 
 entire population assembled on the rocks to greet them. From thence they 
 proceeded gradually along the coast, until the 27th of July, when they 
 neared the entrance of Melville Bay. Here they encountered their first se 
 rious obstruction from the ice ; Dr. Kane promptly decided to attempt a 
 passage through the bay by a new track ; and after a rough transit of eight 
 days, the-Avisdom of the plan was confirmed by its success. In less than a 
 week they entered Smith s Sound, and landing near Littleton s Island, de 
 posited a boat with a supply of stores, with the view of securing a retreat 
 in case of disaster. He says : 
 
 * We found to our surprise that we were not the first human beings who 
 had sought a shelter in this desolate spot. A few ruined walls here and . 
 there showed that it had once been the seat of a rude settlement ; and in 
 the little knoll which we cleared away to cover in our storehouse of valu 
 ables, we found the mortal remains of their former inhabitants. 
 
 Nothing can be imagined more sad and homeless than these memorials 
 of extinct life. Hardly a vestige of growth was traceable on the bare ice- 
 rubbed rocks ; and the huts resembled so much the broken fragments that 
 surrounded them, that at first sight it was hard to distinguish one from the 
 other. Walrus bones lay about in all directions, showing that this animal 
 had furnished the staple of subsistence. There were some remains too of 
 the fox and the narwhal ; but I found no signs of the seal or reindeer. 
 
 These Esquimaux have no mother earth to receive their dead ; but they 
 seat, them as in the attitude of repose, the knees drawn close to the body, 
 and inclose them in a sack of skins. The implements of the living man 
 are then grouped around him ; they are covered with a rude dome of stones, 
 and a cairn is piled above. This simple cenotaph will remain intact for 
 generation after generation. The Esquimaux never disturb a grave." 
 
 On the western cape of Littleton Island, they erected a cairn, which 
 might serve as a beacon to any following party, wedged a staff into the cre 
 vices of the rocks, and spreading the American flag, hailed its folds with 
 three cheers as they expanded in the cold midnight breeze. They imme 
 diately resumed their course, beating toward the north against wind and 
 tide, and soon arriving at the regions of thick-ribbed ice, where they 
 
OF AMERICANS. 491 
 
 compelled to moor their vessel to the rocks. Among the petty miseries 
 which they now began to suffer, was a pack of some fifty dogs, which 
 formed a very inconvenient appendage to the traveling party. These ani 
 mals were voracious as wolves. It was no easy matter to supply such a 
 hungry family with food. They devoured a couple of bears in eight days. 
 Two pounds of raw flesh every other day was a scanty allowance ; but to 
 obtain this was almost impossible. The pemmican could not be spared 
 corn-meal or beans they would not touch and salt junk would have killed 
 them. The timely discovery of a dead narwhal or unicorn proved an ex 
 cellent relief, affording six hundred pounds of good wholesome flesh, 
 though of a rather unsavory odor. 
 
 But a more serious trial was at hand. The vessel had been released from 
 her moorings, and had fought her way through the ice for several days, 
 when the sky gave tokens of an approaching storm. On the 20th of Au 
 gust, the tempest came on with unmistakable Arctic fury. Its effects can 
 be described in no other words than those of the journal of the dauntless 
 commander : 
 
 " By Saturday morning it blew a perfect hurricane. We had seen it 
 coming, and were ready with three good hawsers out ahead, and all things 
 snug on board. Still it came on heavier and heavier, and the ice began to 
 drive more wildly than I thought I had ever seen it. I had just turned in 
 to warm and dry myself during a momentary lull, and was stretching my 
 self out in my bunk, when I heard the sharp twanging snap of a cord. 
 Our six-inch hawser had parted, and we were swinging by the two others ; 
 the gale roaring like a lion to the southward. 
 
 Half a minute more, and * twang, twang ! came a second report. I knew 
 it was the whale-line by the shrillness of the ring. Our noble ten-inch 
 manilla still held on. I was hurrying my last sock into its seal-skin boot, 
 when McGary came waddling down the companion-ladders : Captain 
 Kane, she won t hold much longer; it s blowing the devil himself, and I 
 am afraid to surge. 
 
 The manilla cable was proving its excellence when I reached the deck ; 
 and the crew, as they gathered round me, were loud in its praises. Wo 
 could hear its deep Eolian chant, swelling through all the rattle of the run 
 ning gear, and moaning of the shrouds. It was the death-song ! The 
 strands gave way, with the noise of a shotted gun ; and in the smoke that 
 followed their recoil, we were dragged out by the wild ice at its mercy. 
 
 We steadied and did some pretty warping, and got the brig a good bed in 
 the rushing drift ; but it all came to nothing. We then tried to beat back 
 through the narrow ice-clogged water-way, that was driving a quarter of a 
 mile wide, between the shore and the pack. It cost us two hours of hard 
 labor, I thought, skillfully bestowed ; but at the end of that time we wero 
 at least four miles off, opposite the great valley in the center of Bedeviled 
 Reach. Ahead of us, farther to the north, we could see the strait growing 
 still narrower, and the heavy ice-tables grinding up and clogging it between 
 the shore-cliffs on one side and the ledge on the other. There was but one 
 thing left for us, to keep in some sort the command of the helm, by going 
 freely where we must otherwise be driven. We allowed her to scud under 
 a reefad foretopsail ; all hands watching the enemy, as we closed, in silence. 
 
492 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 At seven in the morning we were close upon the piling masses. We 
 dropped our heaviest anchor, with the desperate hope of winding the brig ; 
 but there was no withstanding the ice-torrent that followed us. We had 
 only time to fasten a spar as a buoy to the chain, and let her slip. So went 
 our best bower ! 
 
 Down we went upon the gale again, helplessly scraping along a lee of ice 
 seldom less than thirty feet thick ; one floe, measured by a line, as we tried 
 to fasten it, more than forty. I had seen such ice only once before, and 
 never in such rapid motion. One upturned mass rose above our gunwale, 
 smashing in our bulwarks, and depositing half a tun of ice in a lump upon 
 our decks. Our stanch little brig bore herself through all this wild adven 
 ture as if she had a charmed life. 
 
 But a new enemy came in sight ahead. Directly in our way, just beyond 
 the line of floe-ice against which we were alternately sliding and thumping, 
 was a group of bergs. We had no power to avoid them ; and the only 
 question was whether we were to be dashed in pieces against them, or 
 whether they might not offer us some providential nook of refuge from the 
 storm. But, as we neared them, we perceived that they were at some dis 
 tance from the floe-edge, and separated from it by an interval of open water. 
 Our hopes rose, as the gale drove us toward this passage, and into it ; and 
 we were ready to exult when, from some unexplained cause probably an 
 eddy of the wind against the lofty ice-walls we lost our headway. Almost 
 at the same moment we saw that the bergs were not at rest ; that, with a 
 momentum of their own, they were bearing down upon the other ice, and 
 that-it must be our fate to be crushed between the two. 
 
 Just then a broad sconce-piece or low water-washed berg came driving up 
 from the southward. The thought flashed upon me of one of our escapes in 
 Melville Bay ; and as the sconce moved rapidly close alongside us, McGary 
 managed to plant an anchor on its slope, and hold on to it by a whale-line. 
 It was an anxious moment. Our noble tow-horse, whiter than the pale 
 horse that seemed to be pursuing us, hauled us bravely on, the spray dash 
 ing over his windward flanks, and his forehead plowing up the lesser ice as 
 if in scorn. The bergs encroached upon us as we advanced. Our channel 
 narrowed to a width of perhaps forty feet ; we braced the yards to clear the 
 impending ice- walls. . . . We passed clear; but it was a close shave 
 so close that our port quarter-boat would have been crushed if we had not 
 taken it in from the davits and found ourselves under the lee of a berg, 
 in a comparatively open lead. Never did heart-tried men acknowledge 
 with more gratitude their merciful deliverance from a wretched death. 
 
 The day had already its full share of trials ; but there were more to 
 come. A flaw drove us from our shelter, and the gale soon carried us beyond 
 the end of the lead. We were again in the ice, sometimes escaping its on 
 set by warping, sometimes forced to rely on the strength and buoyancy of 
 the brig to stand its pressure, sometimes scudding wildly through the half- 
 open drift. Our jibboom was snapped off in the cap ; we carried away our 
 barricade stanchions, and were forced to leave our little Erie, with three 
 brave fellows and their warps, out upon the floes behind us. 
 
 A little pool of open water received us at last. It was just beyond a 
 lofty cape that rose up like a wall, and under an iceberg that anchored itself 
 
OF AMERICANS. 493 
 
 between us and the gale. And here, close under the frowning shore of 
 Greenland, ten miles nearer the pole than our holding-ground of the morn 
 ing, the men have turned in to rest. I was afraid to join them, for the gale 
 was unbroken, and the floes kept pressing heavily upon our berg at one 
 time so heavily as to sway it on its vertical axis toward the shore, and make 
 its pinnacle overhang our vessel. My poor fellows had but a precarious 
 Bleef before our little harbor was broken up. They hardly reached the deck 
 when we were driven astern, our rudder splintered, and the pintles torn from 
 their boltings. 
 
 Now began the nippings. The first shock took us on our port quarter ; 
 the brig bearing it well, and, after a moment of the old-fashioned suspense, 
 rising by jerks handsomely. The next was from a veteran floe, tongued and 
 honeycombed, but floating in a single table over twenty feet in thickness. 
 Of course, no wood or iron could stand this ; but the shoreward face of our 
 iceberg happened to present an inclined plane, descending deep into the 
 water, and up this the brig was driven, as if some great steam screw-power 
 was forcing her into a dry-dock. 
 
 At one time I expected to see her carried bodily up its face and tumbled 
 over on her side. But one of those mysterious relaxations, which I have 
 elsewhere called the pulses of the ice, lowered us quite gradually down 
 again into the rubbish, and we were forced out of the line of pressure toward 
 the shore. Here we succeeded in carrying out a warp and making fast. We 
 grounded as the tide fell, and would have heeled over to seaward but for 
 a mass of detached land-ice that grounded alongside of us, and although it 
 stove our bulwarks as we rolled over, it shored us up." 
 
 We mast also give his account of the sequel : 
 
 "I could hardly get to my bunk, as I went down into our littered cabin 
 on the Sunday morning after our hard-working vigil of thirty-six hours. 
 Bags of clothing, food, tents, India-rubber blankets, and the hundred little 
 personal matters which every man likes to save in time of trouble, were 
 scattered around in places where the owners thought they might have them/ 
 at hand. The pemmican had been on deck, the boats equipped, and every 
 thing of real importance ready for a march, many hours before. 
 
 During the whole of the scenes I have been trying to describe, I could 
 not help being struck by the composed and manly demeanor of my com 
 rades. The turmoil of ice, under a heavy sea, often conveys the impression 
 of danger when the reality is absent ; but in this fearful passage, the parting 
 of our hawsers, the loss of our anchors, the abrupt crushing of our stoven 
 bulwarks, and the actual deposit of ice upon our decks, would have tried 
 the nerves of the most experienced icemen. All officers and men worked 
 alike. Upon each occasion of collision with the ice which formed our lee 
 coast, efforts were made to carry out lines ; and some narrow escapes were 
 incurred by the zeal of the parties leading them into positions o danger. 
 Mr. Bonsall avoided being crushed by leaping to a floating fragment ; and 
 no less than four of our men at one time were carried down by the drift, 
 and could only be recovered by a relief party after the gale had subsided. 
 
 As our brig, borne on by the ice, commenced her ascent of the berg, the 
 suspense was oppressive. The immense blocks piled against her, rango 
 upon range, pressing themselves under her keel, and throwing her over upon 
 
494 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 her side, till, urged by the successive accumulations, she rose slowly, and as 
 if with convulsive efforts, along the sloping wall. Still there was no relax 
 ation of the impelling force. Shock after shock jarring her to her very cen 
 ter, she continued to mount steadily on her precarious cradle. But for the 
 groaning of her timbers, and the heavy sough of the floes, we might have 
 heard a pin drop. And then, as she settled down into her old position, 
 quietly taking her place among the broken rubbish, there was a deep-breath- 
 ing silence, as though all were waiting for some signal before the clamor of 
 congratulation and comment could burst forth." 
 
 By the 22d of August, they had reached the latitude of 78 41 a dis 
 tance greater than had been attained by any previous explorer, except Parry 
 on his Spitzbergen foot-tramp. About this time, some of the party began 
 to exhibit symptoms of discontent. The rapid advance of winter, the de 
 privation of rest, and the slow progress of the expedition, tended to produce 
 depression. One person volunteered an opinion in favor of returning to the 
 south, and giving up the attempt to winter. It was no time for half-way 
 measures. Dr. Kane at once called a council of his officers, and listened to 
 their views in full. With but a single exception, they declared their con 
 viction that a further progress to the north was impossible, and urged the 
 propriety of returning southward to winter. The commander maintained 
 the opposite view. Explaining the importance of securing a position which 
 might expedite future sledge journeys, he announced his intention of warp 
 ing toward the northern headland of the bay. Once there, he could deter 
 mine the best point for the operations of the spring, and would put the brig 
 into winter harbor at the nearest possible shelter. His comrades received 
 the decision with cheerful acquiescence, and zealously entered upon the 
 perilous duties which it involved. During the process the gallant little 
 vessel ran aground, and in the night had a narrow escape from fire. A 
 sudden lurch tumbled the men out of their berths, and threw down the 
 cabin stove, with a full charge of glowing anthracite. The deck blazed up 
 violently, but by the sacrifice of a heavy pilot-cloth coat the fire was 
 smothered until water could be passed down to extinguish it. The powder 
 was not far off. A few moments more might have brought the expedition 
 to a sudden close. 
 
 About the 10th of September, the vessel was brought into a sheltered 
 harbor between the islands of the bay, in which she had been lying for 
 some time, and all hands prepared for winter quarters. Of their mode of 
 life during the long darkness of an Arctic winter, a vivid idea is given by 
 the following extract from Dr. Kane s journal : 
 
 " How do we spend the day when it is not term-day, or rather the 
 twenty-four hours ? for it is either all day here, or all night, or a twilight 
 mixture of both. How do we spend the twenty-four hours ? 
 
 At six in the morning, McGary is called, with all hands who have slept 
 in. The decks are cleaned, the ice-hole opened, the refreshing beef-nets 
 examined, the ice-tables measured, and things aboard put to rights. At 
 half-past seven all hands rise, wash on deck, open the doors for ventilation, 
 and come below for breakfast. We are short of fuel, and therefore cook in 
 the cabin. Our breakfast, for all fare alike, is hard tack, pork, stewed 
 apples, frozen like molasses candy, tea and coffee, with a delicate portion 
 
OF AMERICANS. 495 
 
 of raw potato. After breakfast, the smokers take their pipe till nine ; ther. 
 all hands turn to, idlers to idle and workers to work ; Ohlsen to his bench, 
 Brooks to his preparations in canvas, McGary to play tailor, Whipple to 
 make shoes, Bonsall to tinker, Baker to skin birds and the rest to the 
 * office ! Take a look into the Arctic Bureau. One table, one salt- pork 
 lamp with rusty chlorinated flame, three stools, and as many waxen-faced 
 men with their legs drawn under them, the deck at zero being too cold for 
 thoir feet. Each has his department : Kane is writing and sketching, and 
 projecting maps ; Hays copying logs and meteorologicals ; Sontag reducing 
 his work at Fern Rock. A fourth, as one of the working members of the 
 hive, has long been defunct ; you will find him in bed, or studying Littell s 
 Living Age. At twelve, a business round of inspection, and orders enough 
 to fill up the day with work. Next, the drill of the Esquimaux dogs my 
 own peculiar recreation a dogtrot, specially referring to legs that creak 
 with every kick, and rheumatic shoulders that chronicle every descent of 
 the whip. And so we get on to dinner-time ; the occasion of another gath 
 ering, which misses the tea and coffee of breakfast, but rejoices in pickled 
 cabbage and dried peaches instead. 
 
 At dinner, as at breakfast, the raw potato comes in our hygienic luxury. 
 Like doctor-stuff generally, it is not as appetizing as desirable. Grating it 
 down nicely, leaving out the ugly red spots liberally, and adding the utmost 
 oil as a lubricant, it is as much as I can do to persuade the mess to shut 
 their eyes and bolt it, like Mrs. Squeers molasses and brimstone at Dothe- 
 boy s Hall. Two absolutely refuse to take it. I tell them of the Silesians 
 using its leaves as spinach ; of the whalers in the South Seas getting drunk 
 on the molasses which had preserved the large potatoes of the Azores ; I 
 point to this gum, so fungoid and angry the day before yesterday, and so 
 flat and amiable to-day all by a potato poultice. My eloquence is wasted ; 
 they persevere in rejecting the admirable compound. 
 
 Sleep, exercise, amusement, and work at will carry on the day till our six 
 o clock supper a meal something like breakfast and something like dinner, 
 only a little more scant, and the officers come in with the reports of the 
 day. Dr. Hayes shows me the log, I sign it ; Sontag, the weather, I sign 
 the weather ; Mr. Bonsall, the tides and thermometers. Thereupon comes 
 in mine ancient Brooks, and I enter in his journal No. 3, all the work 
 done under his charge, and discuss his labors for the morrow. 
 
 McGary comes next with the cleaning-up arrangement, inside, outside, 
 and on decks, and Mr. Wilson follows with ice measurements. And last 
 of all comes my own record of the day gone by ; every line, as I look 
 back upon its pages, giving evidences of a weakened body and a harassed 
 mind. 
 
 We have cards sometimes, and chess sometimes, and a few magazines 
 Mr. Littell s thoughtful present to cheer away the evening. 
 
 The darkness was so intense that it necessarily entailed inaction ; and it 
 was in vain that they sought to create topics of thought, and, by a forced 
 excitement, to ward off the encroachments of disease. The thermometer 
 fell to ninety-nine degrees below the freezing point. Human beings could 
 only breathe in such a temperature guardedly and with compressed lips. 
 
 The influence of such severe cold and long intense darkness was most 
 
496 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 depressing. Most of the dogs died of affections of the brain, which began, 
 as in the instance of some of the men of the Investigator, with fits, followed 
 by lunacy, and sometimes by lockjaw. Their disease, Dr. Kane remarks, 
 was as clearly mental as in the case of any human being. Fifty-seven died 
 with these symptoms. The loss of his dogs seriously affected Dr. Kane s 
 plans ; new arrangements had to be formed, which, owing to the small- 
 ness of the party, deprived of the dogs, were necessarily restricted. The 
 addition of four dogs, contributed by Esquimaux, permitted the operations 
 to be considerably extended. Out of nearly three thousand miles traversed, 
 no less than eleven hundred were made with the dog-sledge ; and during 
 the following year, Dr. Kane himself traveled fourteen hundred miles with 
 a single team. 
 
 The month of March brought back perpetual day. The sunshine had 
 reached the ship on the last day of February ; they needed it to cheer 
 them. The scurvy spots, that mottled the faces of almost all, gave sore 
 proof of the trials they had undergone. The crew were now (March, 1854) 
 almost unfitted by debility for arduous work, and only six dogs remained 
 of nine splendid Newfoundlanders and thirty-five Esquimaux dogs. "An 
 Arctic night and an Arctic day," Dr. Kane emphatically remarks, " age a 
 man more rapidly and harshly than a year anywhere else in all this weary 
 world." Sometimes, in their excursions over the ice, the men had to drag 
 the sledge, and flounder through snow-drifts in which they sank at every 
 step nearly over their legs. 
 
 In order to ascertain whether it was practicable to force a way over tho 
 crowded bergs and mountainous ice of the frozen area toward the north, 
 Dr. Kane now organized a party of the strongest men, who volunteered 
 their services for the labor, placing himself at their head ; and, on the 19th 
 of March, cent out an advanced corps to place a relief cargo of provisions 
 at a suitable distance from the brig. On the ninth day of their absence, the 
 latter encountered a heavy gale from, the north-east ; the thermometer fell 
 to fifty-seven degrees below zero, and the ice-ridges became so obstructed 
 by snow as to prevent their depositing their stores beyond fifty miles from 
 the brig. 
 
 By the 31st, three of the members of this advance party returned to the 
 brig, swollen, haggard, and hardty able to speak. They had left four of 
 their number in a tent on the ice, frozen and disabled. On being informed 
 of the disaster, Dr. Kane started for the rescue with nine men, under the 
 direction of Mr. Ohlsen, one of the returned party, whose previous expos 
 ure, however, had rendered his services as a guide almost useless. We will 
 here quote the commander s own graphic words : 
 
 "We had been nearly eighteen hours out without water or food, when a 
 new hope cheered us. I think it was Hans, our Esquimaux hunter, who 
 thought he saw a broad sledge-track. The drift had nearly effaced it, and 
 we were some of us doubtful at first whether it was not one of those acci 
 dental rifts which the gales make in the surface- snow. But, as we traced it 
 on to the deep snow among the hummocks, we were led to footsteps ; and, 
 following these with religious care, we at last came in sight of a small 
 American flag fluttering from a hummock, and lower down, a little Masonic 
 banner hanging from a tent-pole hardly above the drift. It was the camp 
 
OP AMERICANS. 497 
 
 of our disabled comrades : we reached it after an unbrcken inarch of twenty- 
 one hours. 
 
 The little tent was nearly covered. I was not among the first to como 
 up ; but, wheji I reached the tent-curtain, the men were standing in silent 
 file on each side of it. With more kindness and delicacy of feeling than is 
 oftet supposed to belong to sailors, but which is almost characteristic, they 
 intimated their wish that I should go m alone. As I crawled in, and, com 
 ing upon the darkness, heard before me the burst of welcome gladness that 
 came from the four poor fellows stretched on their backs, and then for the 
 firs: time the cheer outside, my weakness and my gratitude together almost 
 overcame me. They had expected me ; they were sure I would come ! " 
 
 We copy entire Dr; Kane s spirited account of the retreat of the party, 
 now consisting of fifteen souls : 
 
 "It was fortunate indeed that we were not inexperienced in sledging over 
 the ice. A great part of our track lay among a succession of hummocks ; 
 some of them extended in long lines fifteen and twenty feet high, and so 
 uniformly steep that we had to turn them by a considerable deviation from 
 our direct course ; others that we forced our way through, far above our 
 heads in height, lying in parallel ridges, with the space between too narrow 
 for the sledge to be lowered into it safely, and yet not wide enough for the 
 runners to cross without the aid of ropes to stay them. These spaces too 
 were generally choked with light snow, hiding the openings between the 
 ice-fragments. They were fearful traps to disengage a limb from ; for every 
 man knew that a fracture, or a sprain even, would cost him his life. Beside 
 all this, the sledge was top-heavy with its load ; the maimed men could not 
 bear to be lashed down tight enough to secure them against falling off. 
 Notwithstanding our caution in rejecting every superfluous burden, the 
 weight, including bags and tent, was eleven hundred pounds. 
 
 And yet our march for the first six hours was very cheering. We made, 
 by vigorous pulls and lifts, nearly a mile an hour, and reached the new floes 
 before we were absolutely weary. Our sledge sustained the trial admirably. 
 Ohlsen, restored by hope, walked steadily at the leading- belt of the sledge- 
 lines ; and I began to feel certain of reaching our half-way station of the 
 day before, where we had left our tent. But we were still nine miles from 
 it, when, almost without premonition, we all became aware of an alarming 
 failure of our energies. 
 
 I was of course familiar with the benumbed and almost lethargic sensation 
 of extreme cold ; and once, when exposed for some hours in the midwinter 
 of Baffin s Bay, I had experienced symptoms which I compared to the dif 
 fused paralysis of the electro-galvanic shock. But I had treated the sleepy 
 comfort of freezing as something like the embellishment of romance. I had 
 evidence now to the contrary. 
 
 Bonsall and Morton, two of our stoutest men, came to me, begging per 
 mission to sleep; they were not cold : the wind did not enter them now : 
 a little sleep was all they wanted! Presently Hans was found nearly stiff 
 under a drift ; and Thomas, bolt upright, had his eyes closed, and could 
 hardly articulate. At last, John Blake threw himself on the snow, and re 
 fused to r!se. They did not complain of feeling cold ; but it was in vain 
 
498 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 that I wrestled, boxed, ran, argued, jeered, or reprimanded : an immediate 
 halt could not be avoided. 
 
 We pitched our tent with much difficulty. Our hands were too powerless 
 to strike a fire ; we were obliged to do without water or food. Even the 
 spirits (whisky) had frozen at the men s feet, under all the coverings. We 
 put Bonsall, Ohlsen, Thomas, and Hans, with the other sick men, well in 
 side the tent, and crowded in as many others as we could. Then, leaving 
 the party in charge of Mr. McGary, with orders to come on after four hours 
 rest, I pushed ahead with William Godfrey, who volunteered to be my 
 companion. My aim was to reach the half-way tent, and thaw some ice 
 and pemmican before the others arrived. 
 
 The floe was level ice, and the walking excellent. I cannot tell how long 
 it took us to make the nine miles ; for we were in a strange sort of stupor, 
 and had little apprehension of time. It was probably about four hours. 
 We kept ourselves awake by imposing on each other a continued articula 
 tion of words ; they must have been incoherent enough. I recall these 
 hours as among the most wretched I have ever gone through : we were 
 neither of us in our right senses, and retained a very confused recollection 
 of what preceded our arrival at the tent. We both of us, however, remem 
 ber a bear, who walked leisurely before us, and tore up as he went a jumper 
 that Mr. McGary had improvidently thrown off the day before. He tore" it 
 into shreds and rolled it into a ball, but never offered to interfere with our 
 progress. I remember this, and with it a confused sentiment that our tent 
 and buffalo-robes might probably share the same fate. Godfrey, with whom 
 the memory of this day s work ma} r atone for many faults of a later time, 
 had a better eye than myself; and, looking some miles ahead, he could see 
 that our tent was undergoing the same unceremonious treatment. I thought 
 I saw it too ; but we were so drunken with cold that we strode on steadily, 
 and for aught I know, without quickening our pace. 
 
 Probably our approach saved the contents of the tent; for when wo 
 reached it the tent was uninjured, though the bear had overturned it, toss 
 ing the buffalo-robes and pemmican into the snow ; we missed only a couple 
 of blanket- bags. What we recollect, however, and perhaps all we recollect, 
 is, that we had great difficulty in raising it. We crawled into our reindeer 
 sleeping-bags, without speaking, and for the next three hours slept on in a 
 dreamy but intense slumber. When I awoke, my long beard was a mass of 
 ice, frozen fast to the buffalo-skin : Godfrey had to cut me out with his 
 jack-knife. Four days after our escape, I found my woolen comfortable 
 with a goodly share of my beard still adhering to it. 
 
 We were able to melt water and get some soup cooked before the rest of 
 our party arrived; it took them but five hours to walk the nine miles. 
 They were doing well, and, considering the circumstances, in wonderful 
 spirits, They day was most providentially windless, with a clear sun. All 
 enjoyed the refreshment we had got ready ; the crippled were repacked in 
 their robes, and we sped briskly toward the hummock-ridges which lay be 
 tween us and the Pinnacly Berg. 
 
 The hummocks we had now to meet came properly under the designa 
 tion of squeezed ice. A great chain of bergs stretching from northwest to 
 southeast, moving with the tides, had compressed the surface-floes, and. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 499 
 
 roaring them up on their edges, produced an area more like the volcanic 
 pedragal of the basin of Mexico than anything else I can compare it to. 
 It required desperate efforts to work our way over it literally desperate, 
 for our strength failed us anew, and we began to lose our self-control. Wo 
 could not abstain any longer from eating snow ; our mouths swelled, and 
 Borne of us became speechless. Happily, the day was warmed by a clear 
 sunshine, and the thermometer rose to 4 in the shade ; otherwise we 
 must have frozen. 
 
 Our halts multiplied, and we fell half-sleeping on the snow. I could not 
 prevent it. Strange to say, it refreshed us. I ventured upon the experi 
 ment myself, making Riley wake me at the end of three minutes ; and I 
 felt so much benefited by it that I timed the men in the same way. They 
 sat on the runners of the sledge, fell asleep instantly, and were forced to 
 wakefulness when their three minutes were out. 
 
 By eight in the evening we emerged from the floes. The sight o the 
 Pinnacly Berg revived us.. Brandy, an invaluable resource in emergency, 
 had already been served out in tablespoonful doses. We now took a longer 
 rest, and a last but stouter dram, and reached the brig at one p. M., we be 
 lieve, without a halt. 
 
 I say we believe; and here, perhaps, is the most decided proof of our suf 
 ferings ; we were quite delirious, and had ceased to entertain a sane appre 
 hension of the circumstances about us. We moved on like men in a dream. 
 Our foot-marks, seen afterward, showed that we had steered a bee-line for 
 the brig. It must have been by a sort of instinct, for it left no impress on 
 the memory. Bonsall was sent staggering ahead, and reached the brig, God 
 knows how, for he had fallen repeatedly at the track-lines ; but he deliv 
 ered with punctilious accuracy, the messages I had sent by him to Dr. 
 Hayes. I thought myself the soundest of all ; for I went through all the 
 formula of sanity, and can recall the muttering delirium of. my comrades 
 when we got back into the cabin of our brig. Yet I have been told since of 
 some speeches, and some orders, too, of mine, which I should have remem 
 bered for their absurdity, if my mind had retained its balance. 
 
 Petersen and Whipple came out to meet us about two miles from the 
 brig. They brought my dog-team, with the restoratives I had sent for by 
 Bonsall. I do not remember-their coming. Dr. Hayes entered with judi 
 cious energy upon the treatment our condition called for ; administering 
 morphine freely, after the usual frictions. He reported none of our brain- 
 symptoms as serious, referring them properly to the class of those indica 
 tions of exhausted power which yield to a generous diet and rest. M;. 
 Ohlsen suffered some time from strabismus and blindness ; two others v /)- 
 derwent amputation of parts of the foot, without unpleasant consequenc js ; 
 and two died, in spite of all our efforts. This rescue-party had beei? out 
 for seventy-two hours. We had halted in all eight hours, half of our .um 
 ber sleeping at a time. We traveled between eighty and ninety miles most 
 of the way dragging a heavy sledge. The mean temperature of the whole 
 time, including the warmest hours of three days, was at minus 41 J. We 
 had no water except at our two halts, and were at no time able to intermit 
 vigorous exercise without freezing. 
 
 April 4, Tuesday. Four days have passed, and I am again at my record 
 32 
 
500 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of failures, sound, but aching still in every joint. The rescued men are not 
 out of danger, but their gratitude is very touching. Pray God that they 
 may live ! " 
 
 The first appearnce of the Esquimaux is thus described : 
 
 " We were watching, in the morning, at Baker s death-bed, when one of 
 Our deck-watch, who had been cutting ice for the melter, came hurrying 
 down to the cabin with the report, People hallooing ashore ! I went up, 
 followed by as many as could mount the gangway ; and there they wore, 
 on all sides of our rocky harbor, dotting the snow-shores, and emerging from 
 the blackness of the cliffs wild and uncouth, but evidently human beings. 
 
 As we gathered on the deck, they rose upon the more elevated fragments 
 of the land-ice, standing singly and conspicuously, like the figures in & 
 tableau of the opera, and distributing themselves around almost in a half- 
 circle. They were vociferating as if to attract our attention, or, perhaps, 
 only to give vent to their surprise ; but I could make nothing out of their 
 cries, except Hoah, ha, ha ! and Ka, kaah ! ka-, kaah ! repeated over and 
 over again. 
 
 There was light enough for me to see that they brandished no weapons, 
 and were only tossing their heads and arms about in violent gesticula 
 tions. A more unexcited inspection showed us, too, that their numbers 
 were not as great, nor their size as Patagonian, as some of us had been dis 
 posed to fancy at first. In a word, I was satisfied that they were natives of 
 the country ; and, calling Petersen from his bunk to be my interpreter, I 
 proceeded, unarmed and waving my open hands, toward a stout figure, who 
 made himself conspicuous, and seemed to have a greater number near him 
 than the rest. He evidently understood the movement, for he at once, like 
 a brave fellow, leaped down upon the floe, and advanced to meet 
 half-way. 
 
 He was nearly a head taller than myself, extremely powerful and Avell- 
 built, with swarthy complexion, and black eyes. His dress was a hooded 
 capote, or jumper, of mixed white and blue fox-pelts, arranged with some 
 thing of fancy, and booted trowsers of white bearskin, which, at the end of 
 the foot, were made to terminate with the claws of the animal. 
 
 I soon came to an understanding with this gallant diplomatist. Almost 
 as soon as we commenced our parley, his companions, probably receiving 
 signals from him, flocked in and surrounded us ; but we had no difficulty in 
 making them know, positively, that they must remain where they were, 
 while Metek went with me on board the ship. This gave me the advan 
 tage of negotiating with an important hostage. 
 
 Although this was the first time he had ever seen a white man, he went 
 with me fearlessly, his companions staying behind on the ice. Hickey took 
 them out what he esteemed our greatest delicacies slices of good wheat 
 bread, and corned pork, with exorbitant lumps of white sugar; but they re 
 fused to touch them. They had evidently no apprehension of open violence 
 from us. I found, afterward, that several among them were singly a match 
 for the whi<&* bear and the walrus, and that they thought us a very pa.e- 
 faced crew. 
 
 Being satisfied with my interview in the cabin, I sent out word that tho 
 rest might be admitted to the ship; and, although they, of course, could 
 
OF AMERICANS. 501 
 
 not know how their chief had been dealt with, some nino or ten of them 
 followed, with boisterous readiness, upon the bidding. Others, in the mean 
 time, as if disposed to give us their company for the full time of a visit, 
 brought up from behind the land-ice as many as fifty-six fine dogs, with 
 their sledges, and secured them within two hundred feet of the brig, driving 
 their lances into the ice, and picketing the dogs to them by the sealskin 
 traces. The animals understood the operation perfectly, and lay down as 
 soon as it commenced. The sledges were made up of small fragments of 
 porous bone, admirably knit together by thongs of hide ; the runners, which 
 glistened like burnished steel, were of highly-polished ivory, obtained from 
 the tusks of the walrus. 
 
 The only arms they carried were knives, concealed in their boots ; but 
 their lances, which were lashed to the sledges, were quite a formidable 
 weapon. The staff was of the horn of the narwhal, or else of the thigh 
 bones of the bear, two lashed together, or sometimes the mirabilis of the 
 walrus, three or four of them united. This last was a favorite material, 
 also for the crossbars of their sledges. They had no wood. A single rusty 
 hoop from a current-drifted cask might have furnished all the knives of the 
 party ; but the fleam-shaped tips of their lances were of unmistakable steel, 
 and were riveted to the tapering bony point, with no mean skill. I learned 
 afterward that the metal was obtained in traffic from the more southern 
 tribes. 
 
 They were clad much as I have described Metek, in jumpers, boots, and 
 white bearskin breeches, with their feet decorated, like his, en gri/e. A strip 
 of knotted leather worn round the neck, very greasy and dirty -looking, 
 which no one could be persuaded to part with for an instant, was mistaken, 
 at first, for an ornament by the crew ; it was not until mutual hardships had 
 made us better acquainted that we learned its mysterious uses. 
 
 When they were first allowed to come on board, they were very rude and 
 difficult to manage. They spoke three or four at a time, to each other and 
 to us, laughing heartily at our ignorance in not understanding them, and 
 then talking away, as before. They were incessantly in motion going 
 everywhere, trying doors, and squeezing themselves through dark passages, 
 round casks and boxes, and out into the light again, anxious to touch and 
 handle everything they saw, and asking for, or else endeavoring to steal, 
 everything they touched. It was the more difficult to restrain them, as I 
 did not wish them to suppose that we were at all intimidated. But thero 
 Avere some signs of our disabled condition, which it was important they 
 should not see ; it was especially necessary to keep them out of the fore 
 castle, where the dead body of poor Baker was lying ; and as it was in vain 
 to reason or persuade, we had, at last, to employ the gentle laying-on of 
 hands, which, I believe, the laws of all countries tolerate, to keep them 
 in order. 
 
 Our whole force was mustered, and kept constantly on the alert ; but, 
 though there may have been something of discourtesy in the occasional 
 shoulderings and bustlings that enforced the police of the ship, things went 
 on good-humoredly. Our guests continued running in and out and about 
 the vessel, bringing in provisions, and carrying them out again to their dogs 
 on the ice ; in fact, stealing all the time, until the afternoon, Avhen, like 
 
502 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 tired children, they threw themselves down to sleep. I ordered them to be 
 made comfortable in the hold ; and Morton spread a large buffalo-robe for 
 them not far from a coal-fire in the galley-stove. 
 
 They were lost in barbarous amaze at the new fuel too hard for blubber, 
 too soft for fire-stone but they were content to believe it might cook as 
 well as seal s fat. They borrowed from us an iron pot and some melted 
 water, and parboiled a couple of pieces of walrus meat ; but, the real piec* 
 de resistance, some five pounds of head, they preferred to eat raw. Yet 
 there was something of the gourmet in their mode of assorting their mouth- 
 fuls of beef and blubber. Slices of each, or rather strips, passed between 
 the lips, either together or in strict alternation, and with a regularity of se 
 quence that kept the molars well to their work. 
 
 They did not eat all at once, but each man when and as often as the im 
 pulse prompted. Each slept after eating, his raw chunk lying beside him 
 on the buffalo-skin ; and, as he woke, the first act was to eat, and the next 
 to sleep again. They did not lie down, but slumbered away in a sitting 
 posture, with the head declined upon the breast, some of them snoring 
 famously. 
 
 In the morning they were anxious to go ; but I had given orders to de 
 tain them for a parting interview with myself. It resulted in a treaty, brief 
 in its terms, that it might be certainly remembered, and mutually beneficial, 
 thaft it might possibly be kept. I tried to make them understand what a 
 powerful Prospero they had had for a host, and how beneficent he would 
 prove himself as long as they did his bidding. And, as an earnest of my 
 favor, I bought all the walrus meat they had to spare, and four of their 
 dogs ; enriching them, in return, with needles and beads, and a treasure of 
 old cask-staves." 
 
 The flesh of the seal is eaten universally by the Danes of Greenland, and 
 is, at certain seasons, almost the staple diet of the Esquimaux. These ani 
 mals are shot lying by their atluk or breathing-holes. Their eyes are so 
 congested by the glare of the sun in midsummer as to render them more 
 readily approachable. 
 
 " On one occasion," says Dr. Kane, " while working my way toward the 
 Esquimaux huts, I saw a large Usuk basking asleep upon the ice. Taking off 
 my shoes, I commenced a somewhat refrigerating process of stalking, lying 
 upon my belly, and crawling along, step by step, behind the little knobs of 
 floe. At last, when I was within long rifle-shot, the animal gave a sluggish 
 roll so one side, and suddenly lifted his head. The movement was evi 
 dently independent of me, for he strained his neck in nearly the opposite 
 direction. Then, for the first time, I found that I had a rival seal-hunter in 
 a large bear, who was, on his belly like myself, waiting with commendable 
 patience and cold feet for a chance of nearer approach. 
 
 What should I do ? the bear was doubtless worth more to me than the 
 seal ; but the seal was now within shot, and the bear a bird in the bush. 
 Beside, my bullet once invested in the seal would leave me defenseless. I 
 might be giving a dinner to a bear, and saving myself for his dessert. 
 These meditations were soon brought to a close ; for a second movement of 
 the seal so aroused my hunter s instincts that I pulled the trigger. My cap 
 alone exploded. Instantly, with a floundering splash, the seal descended 
 
OF AMERICANS. 503 
 
 into the deep, and the bear, with three or four rapid leaps, stood disconso 
 lately bv the place of his descent. For a single moment we stared each 
 other in the face, and then, with that discretion which is the better part of 
 valor, the bear ran off in one direction, and I followed his example in the 
 other." 
 
 Toward the end of the month of April, the short season available for 
 Arctic exploration being far advanced, Dr. Kane started on his grand sledgo 
 expedition to the north. Leaving the brig in charge of a trustworthy de 
 tachment, four able-bodied and six disabled men, the commander, with 
 seven others, set out upon the tour over the ice. His plan was to follow 
 the ice-belt to the Great Glacier of Humboldt, and from that point to stretch 
 along the face of the glacier to the northwest, and make an attempt to cross 
 the ice to the American side. The stores of the party consisted of pemmi- 
 can, bread, and tea, a canvas tent five feet by six, and two sleeping-bags of 
 reindeer skin. The sledge was light, built of hickory, and but nine feet 
 long. A soup-kettle, for melting snow and making tea, was arranged to boil 
 either with lard or spirits. A subdivision of the party with another sledgo 
 started two days before the departure of Dr. Kane, which took place on the 
 27th. He reached the Great Glacier in safety. The coast of Greenland in 
 the vicinity is of a highly picturesque character. The red sandstones pre 
 sent an impressive contrast with the blank whiteness, associating the cold 
 tints of the dreary Arctic landscape with the warm coloring of more southern 
 lands. The different layers of the cliff have the appearance of jointed ma 
 sonry, and the narrow line of greenstone caps them with natural battle 
 ments. At one place rose the dreamy semblance of a castle, flanked with 
 triple to\yers, completely isolated and defined. To these Dr. Kane gave the 
 name of the " Three Brother Towers." A still more striking object was 
 a single cliff of greenstone, north of latitude 79, which reared itself from 
 a crumbled base of sandstones, like the boldly-chiseled rampart of an 
 ancient city. On one extremity stands a solitary column or minaret tower, 
 as sharply finished as if it had been cast for the Place Vendome. The 
 length of the shaft alone is four hundred and eighty feet, and it rises on a 
 plinth or pedestal itself two hundred and eighty feet high. " I remember 
 well," says Dr. Kane, "the emotions of my party as it first broke upon our 
 view. Cold and sick as I was, I brought back a sketch of it, which may 
 have interest for the reader, though it scarcely suggests the imposing dig 
 nity of this magnificent landmark. Those who are happily familiar with 
 the writings of Tennyson, and have communed with his spirit in the soli 
 tudes of a wilderness, will apprehend the impulse that inscribed the scene 
 with his name." No description can do justice to the Great Glacier itself. 
 Rising in solid glassy wall, three hundred feet above the water-level, with 
 an unknown unfathomable depth below it, its curved face sixty miles in 
 length from Cape Agassiz to Cape Forbes vanishes into unknown space at 
 not more than a single day s railroad travel from the pole. The interior 
 with which it communicated, and from which it issued, was an unsurveyed 
 sea of ice, apparently of boundless dimensions. 
 
 The journey, however, failed of success in forcing a passage to the north. 
 On the sixth day the party were attacked by scurvy, from which they had 
 suffered terribly during the winter. Two of the number were taken with 
 
604: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 snow-blindness, and one was condemned as altogether unfit for travel. To 
 crown their discomfitures, they found that the bears had got hold of their 
 pemmican casks, and thus destroyed their chances of recruiting their supply 
 of provisions at the several caches. Dr. Kane himself was seized with violent 
 illness ; his limbs became rigid, and certain tetanoid symptoms made their 
 appearance. In this condition he was unable to make more than nine miles 
 a day. He was strapped upon a sledge, and the march continued ; but he 
 was soon so much reduced as to find the moderate temperature of 5 C below 
 zero intolerable. His left foot was frozen up to the ankle-joint, and the 
 same night it became evident that the difficulty in his limbs was caused by 
 dropsical effusion. The next day he grew delirious, and fainted whenever 
 he was taken from the tent to the sledge. Every man in the party was so 
 far gone as to make the continuance of the journey impossible. Scarcely 
 able to travel, they bore the commander back to the brig, which they 
 reached by forced marches on the fourteenth. Dr. Kane was entirely pros 
 trated for about a week. The first business after his convalescence was to 
 arrange new parties for exploration. They returned in safety, with ample 
 experience of the perils of Arctic discovery. 
 
 Passing over the remainder of the summer (1854), we find the little party 
 prepared to encounter the terrors of a second winter in that dreary region. 
 The brig was fast in the ice, and every effort for her liberation had proved 
 unsuccessful. At this crisis Dr. Kane called all hands together, and ex 
 plained to them the reasons which had decided him not to forsake the brig. 
 He left it to the choice of each man, however to attempt an escape to open 
 water or to stand by the fortunes of the expedition. Eight of the seven 
 teen survivors of the party resolved to remain with their commander ; tho 
 others were fitted out with every appliance that could be furnished, and 
 departed on their almost desperate enterprise. They carried with them 
 every assurance of a brother s welcome should they be driven back ; but it 
 was not until after many weary months of trial and hardship that they 
 were seen again. 
 
 The arrangement of the winter-quarters now occupied the whole atten 
 tion of the little band. Dr. Kane determined to adhere to the routine of 
 observances which had made up the sum of their daily life. No accus 
 tomed form was to be surrendered. The importance of systematic employ 
 ment was fully appreciated. The distribution and details of duty, the reli 
 gious exercises, the ceremonials of the table, the fires, the lights, the watch, 
 even the labors of the observatory, and the notation of the tides and tho 
 sky, it was decided should go on as they had before. In the material ar 
 rangements, many useful hints were borrowed from the Esquimaux. Tho 
 brig was thoroughly lined and padded with moss and turf. A pile of bar 
 rels on the ice contained their supply of water-soaked beef and pork. 
 Flour, beans, and dried apples, formed a quadrangular blockhouse. The 
 boats and spare cordage were placed along an avenue opening abeam of 
 the brig. There was but a small store of vegetables. The pickled cabbage, 
 dried apples and peaches had lost much of their anti-scorbutic virtue by 
 constant use. The spices were all gone. Nothing remained but a few 
 small bottles of horseradish to season the standing fare of bread, beef, and 
 A kind of root beer was brewed by the doctor from the branches of 
 
OF AMERICANS. 505 
 
 the crawling willow, of which a stock had been laid in some weeks before. 
 The gun procured them an occasional supply of fresh meat. Bear s flesh 
 was a favorite dish, but the liver of that animal proved poisonous. A less 
 noxious article of diet was the rat. A perfect warren of this tribe was on 
 board the brig. They had become impudent and fierce with their increase 
 of numbers. Nothing could be saved from their voracity. Furs, woolens, 
 shoes, specimens of natural history were gnawed into and destroyed. They 
 harbored among the men s bedding in the forcastle, and at last became in 
 tolerable nuisances. Dr. Kane took his revenge by decimating them for his 
 private table. His companions did not share his taste, and he thus had the 
 frequent advantage of a fresh-meat soup. To this inviting fare he ascribes 
 his comparative freedom from scurvy. 
 
 The want of fuel before the close of winter compelled them to rely upon 
 their lamps for heat. Pork-fat, boiled to lessen its salt, was the substitute 
 for oil ; and by the use of metallic reverberators, a single wick was sufficient 
 to keep liquid ten ounces of lard with a surrounding temperature of 30 
 below zero. Raw meat was now voted the most agreeable diet. A slice of 
 blubber or a chunk of frozen walrus beef was taken with infinite relish. 
 The liver of a walrus, eaten with little slices of fat, was a dainty morsel. 
 The flesh and blubber of that animal is stated to be " the very best fuel a 
 man can swallow." But of these savory viands, the party were now desti 
 tute. The sick began to suffer for want of meat. They were reduced to 
 three days allowance of frozen flesh, at the rate of four ounces a day for 
 each man. In this emergency, Dr. Kane determined on a trip over the ice 
 to a settlement of Esquimaux huts at the distance of about a hundred 
 miles. He was accompanied by Hans Christern, a native Esquimaux, and 
 five dogs. During the journey, a frightful storm came on. Before it had 
 fairly commenced, the party succeeded in reaching an old hut, which had 
 been abandoned by the Esquimaux. Taking in the dogs, with the blubber- 
 lamp, food, and bedding, which formed part of the burden of the sledge, 
 they closed up the entrance with blocks of snow. 
 
 They were scarcely housed before the storm broke out in all its fury. 
 Completely cut off from the outer world, they here passed many miserable 
 hours. They could keep no note of time. The only indication of the 
 state of the weather was the whirring of the drift against the roof of the 
 kennel. The time was divided between sleeping and preparing coffee, 
 which they drank with a relish. "When warned by their instincts of the 
 lapse of twelve hours, they treated themselves to a meal, dividing impartial 
 bits out of the hind leg of a fox to give zest to their biscuits spread with 
 frozen tallow. It was two days before they were released from their nar 
 row prison, reckoning the time by the increased altitude of the moon. 
 Upon attempting to resume their journey, they found it impossible to work 
 through the piles of drifted snow. Sledge, dogs, and drivers were buried in 
 the attempt. The two travelers harnassed themselves to the sledge, and 
 "lifted, levered, twisted, and pulled," but all in vain. They were com 
 pelled to give it up, and returned to the wretched hut. Taking the back 
 track, they reached the brig the next morning, and for several days were 
 incapable of the slightest exertion. On the last day of January (1855;, Dr, 
 Kane writes in his journal : 
 
506 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 "Our sick are worse, for our traps yield nothing, and we are still without 
 fresh food. The absence of raw fox meat for a single day shows itself in 
 our scurvy. Hemorrhages are becoming common. My crew I have n: 
 crew any longer the tenants of my bunks cannot bear me to leave them 
 a single watch. Yet I cannot make Peterson try the new path which I dis 
 covered and found practicable. Well, the wretched month is over. It is 
 something to be living, able to write. No one has yet made the dark voy 
 age, and January the thirty-first is upon us." 
 
 One week afterward we find the following entry. What a world of mis- 
 cry does it reveal ! 
 
 "Still no supplies. Three of us have been out all day without getting a 
 shot. Hans thinks he .saw a couple of reindeer at a distance, and his eyes 
 rarely deceive him. He will try for them to-morrow. I have fitted out for 
 him a tent and a sleeping bag on the second table-land, and the thermome 
 ter is now so little below zero that he will be able to keep the field for a 
 steady hunt. Our sick are sinking for the want of fresh food. It is the 
 only specific. I dislike to use the unphilosophical term, but in our case it 
 is the true one. In large quantities it dissipates the disease ; in ordinary 
 rations it prevents its occurrence ; in small doses it checks it while sustain 
 ing the patient. We have learned its value too well to waste it ; every part 
 of every animal has its use. The skin makes the basis of a soup, and the 
 claws can be boiled to a jelly. Lungs, larynx, stomach, and entrails, all are 
 available. I have not permitted myself to taste more than an occasional 
 entrail of our last half-dozen rabbits. Not that I am free from symptoms 
 of the universal pest. I am conscious of a stiffness in the tendons, and a 
 shortness of breath, and a weariness of the bones, that should naturally at 
 tend the eruption which covers my body. But I have none of the more 
 fearful signs. I can walk with energy after I get warmed up. 1 have no 
 bleeding of the gums, and, better than all, thank God, I am without that 
 horrible despondency which the disease nourishes and feeds on. I sleep 
 sound and dream pleasantly generally about successes in the hunt, or a 
 double ration of reindeer or ptarmigan." 
 
 On Sunday, the 25th of February, a glimpse was obtained of the return 
 ing sun. 
 
 " To-day, bles.sed be the great Author of light ! I have once more looked 
 upon the sun. I was standing on deck, thinking over our prospects, when a 
 familiar berg, which had long been hid in shadow, flashed out in sun-birth. 
 I knew this berg right well ; it stood between Charlotte Wood Fiord and 
 Little Willie s Monument. One year and one day ago, I traveled toward it 
 from Fern Rock to catch the sunshine. Then I had to climb the hills be 
 yond to get the luxury of basking in its brightness ; but now, though the 
 sun was but a single degree above the true horizon, it was so much elevated 
 by refraction that the sheen stretched across the trough of the fiord like a 
 flaming tongue. I could not or would not resist the influence. It was a 
 Sunday act of worship. I started off at an even run, and caught him as he 
 rolled slowly along the horizon, and before he sank. I was again the first 
 of my party to rejoice and meditate in sunshine. It is the third sun I have 
 seen rise for a moment above the long night of an Arctic winter." 
 
 In the beginning of March every man on board was tainted with scurvy 
 
OF AMERICANS. 507 
 
 and often not more than three were able to make exertion in behalf of the 
 rest. On the 4th of the month the last remnant of fresh meat was doled 
 out, and the invalids began to sink rapidly. Their lives were only saved 
 by the success of a forlorn-hope excursion of Hans to the remote Esqui 
 maux hunting station, Etah, seventy-five miles away, whither he went in 
 search of walrus. 
 
 On one occasion the adventurers killed a bear that had come with its cub, 
 pressed by extreme hunger, close to the brig. It is painful to read the de 
 tails of the struggle, from the wonderful attachment shown by the mother 
 to its cub, and by the latter to its parent, to whom it always clung, even in 
 death. But the men s lives were valuable, and it was thought excusable to 
 kill two bears when the gulls were seen gobbling up young eider-ducks, in 
 the face of their distracted mothers, by mouthfuls. 
 
 Having no fuel, they were now reduced to the Esquimaux system of re 
 lying en lamps for heat; beds and bedding hence became black with soot, 
 and their faces were begrimed with fatty carbon. The journal is now little 
 more than a chronicle of privations and sufferings, interspersed with extraor 
 dinary efforts to keep up communications with the Esquimaux. It is, with 
 out comparison, the most painfully interesting record of experience in winter 
 ing in the far north that has ever yet been published. In the midst of their 
 troubles two of the men tried to desert, but one only Godfrey succeeded. 
 He returned, strange to say, on the 2d of April, with food, in a sledge, but 
 would not himself quit the Esquimaux. Under a misapprehension that he 
 had robbed Hans, one of the hunters, of his sledge and dogs, his life was 
 near being sacrificed by the commander from whom he had deserted. 
 
 The abandonment of the brig was now resolved on. Before spring could 
 be welcomed, preparations had been going on for some time for a sledge and 
 boat escape from their long imprisonment. The employment thus given to 
 the men exerted a wholesome influence on their moral tone, and assisted 
 their convalescence. They had three boats, and they all required to be 
 strengthened. There was clothing, bedding, and provision-bags to make. 
 The sledges had to be prepared. The 17th of May was appointed for the 
 start. The farewell to the ship was most impressive. Prayers were read, 
 and then a chapter of the Bible. The flags were then hoisted and hauled 
 down again, and she was left alone, fozen in the ice. Godfrey had, by this 
 time, it is to be observed, rejoined the ship, so that the party consisted alto 
 gether of seventeen, of whom four were unable to move. 
 
 The collections of natural history the party were reluctantly compelled 
 to leave behind, and part of the apparatus for observations, as well as the 
 library of the commander, and the books furnished by the government and 
 Mr. Grinnell for the use of the vessel. Nothing was retained but the docu 
 ments of the expedition. 
 
 At Etah, the Esquimaux settlements were found " out on the bare rocks," 
 enjoying the plenty which spring had brought. 
 
 Up to the 23d the progress of Dr. Kane s party was little more than a 
 mile a day. The housed boats luckily afforded tolerably good sleeping- 
 berths at night. On the 5th of June, Ohlsen injured himself so, in an at 
 tempt to rescue a sledge from falling into a tide-hole, that he died three 
 days afterward. 
 
50S ADVENTURES AXD ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " Stu . passing slowly on, day after day I am reluctant," writes Dr. 
 Kane, "to borrow from ray journal the details of anxiety and embarrass 
 ment with which it abounds throughout this period we came at last to the 
 unmistakable neighborhood of open water." This was off Pekintlek, the 
 largest of the Littleton Island group. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 19th of June, after a long farewell given to their long- 
 tried friends, the Esquimaux of Etah, who had brought them frequent sup 
 plies of birds, and aided them in carrying their provisions and stores, they 
 put to sea, and, the very first day s navigation, one cf the boats swamped. 
 They spent the first night in an inlet in the ice, and on the 22d reached 
 Northumberland Island in a snow-storm. Here the} got fresh provisions. 
 They crossed Murchison Channel on the 23d, and encamped for the night 
 on the land-floe at the base of Cape Parry a hard day s travel, partly by 
 tracking over ice, partly through tortuous and zig-zag leads. So it was for 
 many successive days. One day favorable, with open leads of water ; an 
 other slow and wearisome, through alternate ice and water. Then the floe 
 would break up and carry them resistlessly against the rocks. Three long 
 days they passed in a cavern of rock and ice, in which, however, they found 
 plenty of birds eggs. 
 
 On the llth they had doubled Cape Dudley Digges, and plants, and 
 birds, and birds eggs became more common. They spent a week to regain 
 strength at so productive a spot, which they designated as " Providence 
 -Halt." At the Crimson Cliffs they again got a plentiful supply of birds. 
 On the 21st of July, they reached Cape York, and made immediate prepa 
 rations for crossing Melville Bay, which was accomplished with great labor 
 and suffering. Once more they were nearly starving, when a great seal came 
 providentially to their succor. 
 
 This was while they were in the open bay, and in boats so frail that they 
 could only be kept afloat by constant bailing. It was at this crisis of their 
 fortunes that they discovered a large seal floating on a piece of ice, and ap 
 parently asleep. Trembling with anxiety, they prepared to move down 
 upon him, Petersen standing ready with a large English rifle. As they 
 neared the animal the excitement of the men became intense, and he reared 
 his head when they were almost within rifle shot; "and to this day," says 
 Dr. Kane, " I can remember the hard, careworn, almost despairing expres 
 sion of their faces, as they savr him move : their lives depended upon his 
 capture. I depressed my hand nervously as a signal for Petersen to fire. 
 I saw that the poor fellow was paralyzed by his anxiety, trying vainly to 
 obtain a rest for his gun against the cutwater of the boat. The seal rose on 
 his fore flippers, gazed at us for a moment with frightened curiosity, and 
 coiled himself for a plunge. At that instant, simultaneously with the crack 
 of our rifle, he relaxed his long length on the ice, and, at the very brink of 
 the water, his head fell helplessly to one side. I would have ordered an 
 other shot, but no discipline could have controlled the men. With a wild 
 yell, they urged both boats upon the floes ; a crowd of hands seized tha 
 seal and bore him up to safer ice. The men seemed half-crazy ; I had not 
 realized how much we were reduced by absolute famine. They ran over 
 the floe, crying and laughing and brandishing their knives. It was not 
 
OF AMERICANS. 509 
 
 five minutes before every man was sucking his bloody fingers, or mouthing 
 long strips of raw blubber." 
 
 The feet of the party were at this time so swollen that they were obliged 
 to cut open their canvas boots. The most unpleasant symptom was -that 
 they could not sleep. On the 1st of August, they sighted the Devil 3 
 Thumb. Hence they fetched the Duck Islands, and passing to the south 
 of Cape Shackleton, landed on terra Jirma. Two or three days more and 
 they were under the shadow of Karkamoot. 
 
 "Just then a familiar sound came to us over the water. We had often 
 listened to the screeching of the gulls, or the bark of the fox, and mistaken 
 it for the Huk of the Esquimaux ; but this had about it an inflection not 
 to be mistaken, for it died away in the familiar cadence of a halloo. 
 
 " Listen, Petersen ! Oars men? What is it ? and he listened quietly 
 at first, and then, trembling, said, in a half- whisper, Dannemarkers ! " 
 
 It was the Upernavik oil-boat, and the next day they were at Upernavik 
 itself, after being eighty-four days in the open air, and having passed over 
 thirteen hundred miles. They could not remain within the four walls of a 
 house without a distressing sense of suffocation. 
 
 At Upernavik they took passage in a Danish vessel for England. By 
 good fortune they touched at Disco where they were met by the expedition 
 of Captain Hartstein, that had been sent out in search of them. Embarking 
 on board, they arrived in New York, early in October, after an absence of 
 two years and four months. 
 
 The expedition under Dr. Kane, although not succeeding in the great 
 purpose for which it was dispatched, has contributed important and valuable 
 additions to the geography of the Arctic regions. The highest point reached 
 was nearly eighty-one and a half degrees of latitude, within about five hun 
 dred miles of the pole. In the different explorations by members of the 
 party, the northern coast of Greenland was surveyed to its termination in 
 the great Humboldt Glacier this glacial mass was examined and described 
 as far as its northward extension into the new land named Washington a 
 large tract of land forming the extension northward of the American conti 
 nent was discovered and the existence ascertained of an open and iceless 
 sea toward the pole, making an area, with its channel, of over four thousand 
 miles. The discovery of this Polar Sea is one of the most interesting re 
 sults of Arctic exploration. It had long been suspected that such a tract of 
 water was to be found in the vicinity of the pole, and the suspicion was 
 confirmed to some extent by actual or supposed discoveries. But hitherto 
 no satisfactory proof of the fact had been obtained. The evidence which 
 Dr. Kane has had the rare good fortune to collect, is founded on facts of 
 immediate observation. The coast of this mysterious sea was traversed for 
 many miles, in the summer of 1854, by a sledge party under Win. Morton, 
 who was absent from the brig on this expedition for thirty days. The water 
 was viewed from an elevation of five hundred and eighty feet, presenting 
 the same limitless spectacle, moved by a heavy swell, free from ice, and 
 dashing in surf against a rock-bound shore. In connection with this dis 
 covery, several facts were brought to light indicating a milder climate near 
 th pole. The sky to the northwest was of dark rain-cloud ; also crowds 
 ol marine birds, the advance of vegetable life, the melted snow upon the 
 
510 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 rocks, and the rise of the thermometer in the water, all suggested the sup 
 position of a climatic melioration toward the pole. 
 
 "There is much in Dr. Kane s wonderful narrative to remind the reader 
 of the story of old William Barentz, who, two hundred and fifty-nine years 
 ago, wintered 011 the coast of Nova Zembla. His men, seventeen in num 
 ber, broke down during the trials of winter, and three died, just as oi the 
 eighteen under Dr. Kane three had gone. Barentz abandoned his vessel, as 
 the Americans abandoned theirs, took to his boats, and escaped along the 
 Lapland coast to lands of Norwegian civilization. The Americans embarked 
 with sledges and boats to attempt the same thing. They had the longer 
 journey, and the more difficult one, before them. Barentz lost, as they did, 
 a cherished comrade by the wayside. But one resemblance luckily does not 
 exist : Barentz himself perished Dr. Kane lived to write an account of all 
 that he suffered in a noble cause. No mere abstract of his narrative can 
 give an idea of its absorbing interest. 
 
 His book is above all common praise, on account of the simple, manly, 
 unaffected style in which the narrative of arduous enterprise and firm endur 
 ance is told. It is obviously a faithful record of occurrences, made by a 
 man who was quite aware that what he had to tell needed no extraneous 
 embellishment. There is, however, so much of artistic order in the mind 
 of the narrator, that the unvarnished record has naturally shaped itself into 
 a work of distinguished excellence upon literary grounds. The scenes which 
 it describes are so vividly and vigorously brought before the reader, that 
 there are few who sit down to the perusal of the narrative but will fancy, 
 before they rise from the engrossing occupation, their own flesh paralyzed 
 by the cold one hundred degrees greater than frost, and their blood scurvy- 
 filled by the four months sunlessness. 
 
 It is only just also to remark, that there is unmistakable evidence in the 
 pages of this interesting book, that the doctor was no less eminently gifted 
 for the duties of his command than he has been happy in his relation of its 
 history. Every step in his arduous path seems to have been taken only after 
 the exercise of deliberately matured forethought. 
 
 When the preparations for the final escape were under consideration, the 
 following record was made in the doctor s journal : Whatever of executive 
 ability I have picked up during this brain-and-body- weary ing cruise warns 
 me against immature preparation or vacillating purposes. I must have an 
 exact discipline, a rigid routine, and a perfectly thought-out organization. 
 For the past six weeks I have, in the intervals between my duties to the 
 sick and the ship, arranged the schedule of our future course ; much of it is 
 already under way. My journal shows what I have done, but what there 
 is to do is appalling. Appalling as it was, the heroic man who had to look 
 the necessity in the face, was equal to the position." 
 
- 
 

 
THE ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 OF THAT 
 
 EMINENT AMERICAN MISSIONARY, 
 
 ADONIRAM JUDSON. 
 
 No PRINCIPLE in man is so powerful as that of religion. Stranger as he 
 is in this world, knowing but little around him, ignorant even of himself, 
 his mind, as it develops, becomes aroused to the enigma of his existence. 
 "Who am I?" "What was my origin?" "Whither am I tending?" 
 are questions of solemn import. 
 
 Comparatively helpless, enveloped in mysteries, man feels the necessity 
 of looking for a mightier power as the source of all things, and as a guide 
 through the unknown future. The emotions thus originated, are united 
 with the profoundest veneration for the great Unseen and Incomprehensible. 
 This is Natural Religion, that which exists in the heart of every human being. 
 The affections of the natural man open to the religious sentiment as the 
 plants open to the light. The great want of humanity is a supreme object 
 of worship and adoration. If destitute of this, man gropes in the dark and 
 in his honest endeavors to minister to his religious faculties, falls a victim to 
 horrible superstitions. The blackest records in history are those of crimes 
 committed in the name of religion. 
 
 But Revelation unfolds to a man, an idea the grandest that can 
 enter the soul of mortal an idea so vast that no finite being can compre 
 hend it the idea contained in that awful word GOD ! God, the creator 
 and author of all that" has been, that is, and that is to be ; God, the omni 
 potent, the omnipresent, and the omniscient, who holds the world in the 
 hollow of his hand, and has the universe for his footstool, who pervades 
 all space, whose eye is upon all things, even to our thoughts : God Al 
 mighty, the good father of us all ! 
 
 With the idea of God, revelation presents that other great idea IMMOR 
 TALITY ! This life is but the beginning : man is to live forever : a higher 
 world may be his, where there is no sorrow and no sin. There, all his 
 faculties, moral, social and intellectual, the just exerciso of which, even on 
 earth, with the impediment of a perishing frame, give so much joy, are to 
 have full scope and in a more glorious, a perfect body. Eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, to conceive of 
 the full measure of bliss that awaits him at the hands of his eternal Father. 
 
 (5H) 
 
512 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 When to these two great ideas is united the third SALVATION BY FAITU, 
 and these triune ideas, GOD ! IMMORTALITY ! HEAVEN ! take full possession 
 of a man, he is ready for anything. Counting this life as nothing, he will 
 ingly dies, if need be, the death of a martyr, and under most excruciating 
 tortures. Mortal agony is endured by the hope of immortal joy. 
 
 We propose to trace on these leaves the history of one such, to whom no 
 peril, no suffering, was to be avoided, if thereby his fellow-men were to 
 derive benefit. We allude to that self-sacrificing, eminent American mis 
 sionary, Adoniram Judson. 
 
 Five years after the close of the American Revolution, August 9, 1788, 
 Adoniram Judson was born, in the town of Maiden, Massachusetts. His 
 father was the pastor of a Congregational church, and therefore his son was, 
 in common phrase, "well born," for in the New England States, the clergy 
 are of preeminent influence. 
 
 As a boy at school, Judson was noted for his sprightliness of disposition, 
 studious habits, and ease in acquiring knowledge. At the proper age, he 
 became a student of Brown University, and graduated there in 1807, with 
 the highest honors of his class. He subsequently taught school at Ply 
 mouth, where his fine amiable traits and pleasing address won universal 
 esteem. Unfortunately he had, while at college, fallen into the very com 
 mon error of young men of his age, of disbelieving the truths of the Chris 
 tian religion. These skeptical ideas were dissipated afterward by a very 
 sudden and surprising incident. 
 
 Closing his school, he determined to travel in the Southern States, where 
 it was thought he had an idea of settling, apd much against the wishes of 
 his parents. He got ready, and bade them farewell : they shed tears at the 
 parting, and their continual affection and love were seldom from his mind, 
 during his absence. This, to young Judson, was a second Damascus jour 
 ney. It was destined to change his whole career, and lead him eventually 
 into that high calling, for which he was so peculiarly fitted. He had not 
 long been absent when an event occurred that changed his determination. 
 He put up at an inn, on his journey, where, it seems, one of his favorite 
 fellow-graduates was also stopping, though he was ignorant of the fact. 
 The same night the graduate died, and when Judson approached the corpse, 
 as he thought of a traveling stranger, he was horrified as he gazed upon tho 
 inanimate form of his favorite college associate, and the same one, princi 
 pally, through whom his infidelity had been imbibed. He fell into a train 
 of solemn reflection. This circumstance, and his parent s prayers, began to 
 whisper at his heart. He resolved to abandon his tour, retrace his steps, 
 and devote himself to the study of the Holy Scriptures. He soon returned 
 home, greatly to the surprise and joy of his parents and friends. 
 
 True to his purpose, he commenced a rigid examination of the scriptures, 
 and the subject of revealed religion, and soon after, entered the Andover 
 Theological Seminary, though it was ordinarily a privilege enjoyed ex 
 clusively by religious young men, having tlje ministry in view : this regu 
 lation, however, was suspended in his case. He devoted himself to his 
 studies with unwearied application. As a result of his investigation, his in 
 fidelity, that had trembled before a father s prayer, a mother s tear, and a 
 friend s death-bed, was completely overturned. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 513 
 
 It was during his Last year at Andover, that the tract of an eminent 
 divine, entitled "The Star in the East," devoted to the subject of foreign 
 missions, fell into his hands. Speaking, in after life, of the feelings he had 
 upon its perusal, Judson remarks : "For some days I was unable to attend to 
 the studies of my class, and spent my time in considering my past ctupidity, 
 depicting the most romantic scenes in missionary life, and roaming about 
 the college ro oms, declaiming upon the subject of missions. My views were 
 very incorrect, and my feelings extravagant; but yet, I have always felt 
 thankful to God for bringing me into "that state of excitement, which was 
 perhaps necessary, in the first place, to enable me to break the strong at 
 tachment I felt to home and country, and to endure the thought of abandon 
 ing all my wonted pursuits and animating prospects. That excitement soon 
 passed away ; but it left a strong desire to prosecute my inquiries, and ascer 
 tain the path of duty." 
 
 He was now determined to become a missionary of the cross, and the 
 East Indies seemed to him to be the best field for his efforts. The follow 
 ing is the manner in which he says he came to this resolution : " It was 
 during a solitary walk in the woods, behind the college, while meditating 
 and praying upon the subject, and feeling half inclined to give it up, that 
 the command of Christ, Go into all the world and preach the gospel to 
 everj r creature, was presented to my mind, with such clearness and power 
 that I came to a full decision, and though great difficulties appeared in the 
 way, I resolved to obey the command at all events." 
 
 This design was morally heroic. In that day, were obstacles difficult to 
 be overcome. The entire absence of missionary societies to advance the in 
 terests of foreign missions, compelled those who desired to devote their lives 
 to that cause, to look almost entirely to themselves for support. Judson 
 having come to the determination, was anxious to depart ; nor did he wish to 
 go alone : his heart was fired with a holy zeal, and he wished to see others 
 unite with him, and work for the redemption of the world. He consulted 
 with several young men of promise, who had missionary objects in view, 
 and was gratified to find them alike enthusiastic. They applied to the 
 church representative for assistance, but were mortified to find that, owing 
 to the little attention formerly given to the subject of missions, they had to 
 submit to much delay. Judson, in the meantime, devoted himself to the 
 active duties of a clergyman. His reasoning was clear and fucid ; his ap 
 peals, warm and earnest ; his delivery, much admired. On one occasion, a 
 Universalist minister of some note attended his church. After service, he 
 remarked to a friend : "I pitied that young man when I saw him enter the 
 pulpit, this morning, but before he came down, I pitied myself." 
 
 At that time, existed in London, an efficient organized missionary board, 
 having for its object the circulation of the Bible and the " preached Word" 
 among the heathen. By those to whom application was made by Judson 
 and his companions, it was thought advisable to send one of the number to 
 England, to confer with the managers of that society, and ascertain whether 
 any concert of action could be established between the board and the Ameri 
 can missionaries. On this business, they resolved to send Judson. With in 
 structions, therefore, how to proceed before the London Society, he sailed for 
 England in January, 1811. War was then raging between France and Eng- 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 land, and having taken passage on an English vessel, he was captured with 
 the rest of the crew, by a French privateer, and conveyed as a prisoner to 
 Bayonne. Through the intercession of an American gentleman, he was 
 set at liberty, provided with a passport, when he proceeded to England 
 which he reached four months after his departure from the United States. 
 
 lie found the plan he had in view impracticable, but the directors of the 
 London society expressed a readiness to receive him and his brethren under 
 their patronage, in case the} r could not obtain support in America, and gave 
 them instructions to be used by the m at their option. 
 
 Returning to the United States. Mr. Judson and another of the candidates 
 for missionary service, attended the meeting of the Board of Commissioners 
 at Worcester in September. The funds of the Board were scanty, and 
 there was some indication that their enterprise might be yet further delayed 
 Mr. Judson urged immediate movement, on the ground of impending wa\ 
 with England, which might cause a long postponement, if not a final aban 
 donment of missions to the east. After anxious deliberation, the Board 
 adopted Messrs. Judson, Hall, Newell, and Nott, as its missionaries, with a 
 designation to the Burman empire, recommending, however, that they 
 should continue their studies for a time. 
 
 In the preceding year, Mr. Judson first met Miss Ann Hasseltine, with 
 whom he formed an acquaintance that led to an offer of marriage. How 
 ever such a proposal might have been viewed by her under ordinary cir 
 cumstances, coming as it did from one about to be self-exiled for missionary 
 service, in a distant land, and among a semi-barbarous people, it was no 
 \vonder that she hesitated. With qualities that fitted her to move in the 
 choicest society, and sensibilities that might well shrink from the eminent 
 self-denial involved in acceptance of the prosposal, her devoted piety gave 
 her power to sympathize with the missionary s spirit. Her decision was 
 deliberately made, to share his sufferings and toils and unselfish joys. In 
 her Mr. Judson found a most fortunate companion, and the cause of mis 
 sions an unrivaled ornament. " Together, they were a pair peculiarly qual 
 ified for mutual support in founding a mission against obstacles few would 
 have ventured to encounter, and fewer still would have had strength to 
 overcome. The future was not indeed foreseen, but its possibilities were 
 present to their minds. In asking her father s assent to their union, 
 extenuating nothing. Mr. Judson frankly asked whether he could " con 
 sent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean ; to the fatal influence 
 of the southern climate of India ; to every kind of want and distress ; to 
 degradation, to insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death." The 
 sacrifice was made, a sense of duty overcame the promptings of parental 
 tenderness, and the youthful pair, bound together by ties of united duty 
 and affection, prepared for their departure. They were married on the 5th 
 of February, 1812, and on the day following, Mr. Judson, with his four col 
 leagues, Messrs. Hall, Newell, Nott, and Rice, received ordination at Salem. 
 Me-srs. Judson and Newell, with their wives, sailed from Salem on the 19th 
 in the bark Caravan, for Calcutta, and the rest of the company from Phil- 
 adelphia on the 18th, for the same destination. 
 
 The Caravan arrived at Calcutta on the 18th of June. The mission 
 aries were cordially welcomed by Dr. Carey, and invited to await at Seram- 
 
OF AMERICANS, . 515 
 
 pore the arrival of their associates. They accepted the invitation, and were 
 received with marked kindness by the mission family. Their enjoyment 
 was rudely interrupted. In about ten days they received a summons to 
 Calcutta. There a government order was served upon them to return im 
 mediately to America. Their position was embarrassing. The state of the 
 Burman empire, their original destination, seemed to forbid the present es 
 tablishment of a mission there. To leave Calcutta then, was apparently to 
 abandon their whole enterprise. They finally asked and obtained leave to 
 sail to the Isle of France, whither a vessel then in the river was bound. 
 The vessel could take but two passengers, and Mr. and Mrs. Newell em 
 barked in her, leaving their companions to follow by the first opportunity. 
 Mr. Judson remained two months in Calcutta, during which time that 
 change took place in his views which sundered his present relations as a 
 missionary, and was made the instrument of enlisting a new agency in the 
 work of human evangelization. 
 
 While on his passage from America, as he was engaged in the study of 
 the original Scriptures, his attention was drawn to the subject of Baptism. 
 The reflection that he was soon to meet Baptist missionaries, and that he 
 might be called to defend his faith on the points of difference between 
 them an apprehension which turned out to be groundless led him to 
 study the subject more closely. Before reaching any conclusion, his arrival 
 at Calcutta and subsequent difficulties arrested the inquiry. He resumed it 
 after the departure of Mr. Newell, and ended by adopting the sentiments 
 of the Baptists. It cost him a severe struggle to arrive at a conclusion that 
 must sever him from the patronage of the Board that had honored him 
 by its confidence, and leave him to the contingency of gaining support from 
 a communion with whose members, saving two or three individual excep 
 tions, he had no personal acquaintance. On first learning the state of his 
 mind, Mrs. Judson was much distressed, but after a similar investigation, 
 her views were conformed to his. They were baptized on the 6th of Sep 
 tember. 
 
 Mr. Rice united with Messrs. Hall and Nott in a regretful communica 
 tion of this " trying event" to the Board. But his own mind was excited 
 to a review of his opinions, and in a few weeks followed the example of 
 Mr. Judson. They resigned their commission from the Board, and wrote 
 letters appealing to American Baptists for sympathy and aid. Meanwhile, 
 it became necessary to take immediate measures to find a refuge from the 
 hostility of the East India Company, which was heightened by intelligence 
 of war between Great Britain and the United States, and by the suspicion, 
 from their protacted stay, that the missionaries designed to remain per 
 manently at Calcutta. They were peremptorily ordered to take passage 
 for England ; and in this emergency, they engaged a passage to the Isle 
 of France. They had gone down the river for two days, when an order 
 came, arresting the vessel, on the ground that she had on board pas 
 sengers ordered to England. All escape now seemed impossible; but 
 after remaining on shore three days, they received from an unknown hand 
 a pass authorizing their passage in the ship they had left. By two days 
 hard rowing, a distance of seventy miles, they reached Saugur, and found the 
 vessel providentially lying at anchor. 
 33 
 
516 -ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 They arrived at the Isle of France on the 17th of January. The hos 
 tility of the East Indian government followed them : the governor received 
 a notice to look carefully after them as suspicious persons. To this he paid 
 no attention, and on the contrary treated them with much kindness, offer 
 ing them, if they chose to remain on the island, his countenance in their 
 work. But it was not a desirable field for missionary labor. They thought 
 of Madagascar, but a mission there appeared impracticable, and it was &t 
 last decided to attempt one at Pinang, or Prince of Wales Island, for whi h 
 purpose Mr. and Mrs. Judson embarked for Madras. In the meantime, Mr. 
 Rice returned to America, to effect in person with the Baptists the needful ar 
 rangements for their support. Tidings of the unexpected event, that threw 
 upon the sympathies of the denomination two missionaries already provi 
 dentially in India, had preceded him, and he received a cordial welcome. 
 Auxiliary societies were formed, and a meeting of delegates assembled in 
 Philadelphia, by whom was formed the Baptist General Convention, more 
 recently organized by the name of the American Baptist Missionary Union. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Judson were adopted as their missionaries, while Mr. Rice 
 remained to give his services to the domestic agency of the Convention. 
 
 Where the appointed missionaries would labor was not, indeed, known 
 even to themselves. On reaching Madras they heard of the order for the 
 transportation of the American missionaries from Bombay to England. Dread 
 ing the like treatment, they made all haste to escape from British domin 
 ions. There was no outward bound vessel in the harbor, except an unsea- 
 worthy craft about to sail for Rangoon, the principal port of the Burman 
 empire. In this they took passage, and, after braving numerous perils, 
 reached their destination in July, 1813, resolved, if practicable, to remain 
 there. The trials they had met with providentially overruled the appre 
 hensions that caused them to shrink from a mission in Burmah, and brought 
 them to the place of their original destination. The day of their arrival 
 was one of gloom. Uncertain as to the issue of their enterprise, lonely 
 from the want of Christian society, and without intelligence from, friends at 
 home, they went on shore, scarcely knowing whither they should go. The 
 health of Mrs. Judson, moreover, had suffered from excitement, fatigue, and 
 danger, so that she was scarcely able to land. They found shelter and the 
 temporary companionship of Mrs. Felix Carey, in the mission-house that 
 had been occupied about five years by English missionaries, but was now to 
 bo abandoned for the occupancy of others to whom the evangelization of 
 Burmah was manifestly committed. 
 
 The Burman empire, then including Arracan and the Tenasserim prov 
 inces, of which it has been stripped, and Cassay, a part of which is now 
 independent, is an absolute despotism. The monarch is styled the " Master 
 of Life and Death," and his edicts are the unquestioned law of the land. 
 The country is divided into districts, each under the rule of a viceroy, or 
 governor, by whom the imperial decrees are executed on the whole people-. 
 
 The religion of Burmah, if such it may be called, is Boodhism, a super- 
 gtition which enslaves nearly one-third of the human race. It acknowl 
 edges no living or intelligent first cause, but affirms the eternity of matter. 
 It holds that four Boodhs, or deities, have successively appeared at inter 
 vals of several thousand years, and have been absorbed into Nicban, a state 
 
OF AMERICANS. 517 
 
 of entire unconsciousness or annihilation, which is regarded as the highest 
 reward of virtue. The last Boodh, Gaudama, appeared about the year 
 B. C. 600, became Boodh at the age of thirty-five, and forty-five years after 
 was absorbed. As thousands of years will elapse before the appearance of 
 another, the system is meanwhile one of pure atheism. The objects of 
 adoration are images and relics of Gaudama, to whom numerous templei 
 are erected, served by a large body of priests, who are bound to celibacy, 
 and subsist by alms. The only religious pursuit of the people is the ac 
 quisition of merit by alms deeds and austerities. 
 
 Boodhism is superior to other forms of paganism, in its moral feafriires. 
 It does not deify lust, revenge, or cupidity. It has five moral precepts : 
 Thou shalt not kill ; thou shalt not steal ; thou shalt not commit adultery ; 
 thou shalt not lie ; thou shalt use no intoxicating liquor. But as it recog 
 nizes no eternal and Supreme Deity, leaving the universe to the force of a 
 blind destiny : it imposes no adequate restraint on the depraved passions 
 of its devotees. With many professions of ascetism, they show all the 
 vices with which the history of heathen nations is uniformly darkened. 
 The people are naturally active and energetic, with acute minds, lively 
 imaginations, and a freedom of social intercourse unknown to most ori 
 ental nations, but the debasing influences of an atheistic philosophy and 
 tyrannical government have made them indolent, unfeeling, suspicious and 
 cruel. 
 
 More than a year elapsed before Mr. Judson heard of the formation of 
 the Baptist General Convention. For three years he was busied in learn 
 ing the language, which is one of peculiar difficulty, and undertaken, as it 
 was, without grammar, dictionary, or a teacher speaking English, almost 
 insurmountable. But he had great aptitude for philological investigation, 
 and foreign as its idiom is to the mental habits of western nations, he made 
 the Burmese so much his own, that he ultimately used it with all the free 
 dom of a native. His first labors were directed to the preparation of a 
 tract, entitled a Summary of the Christian Religion. He was commencing 
 a translation of the New Testament, when he found himself so much en 
 feebled by continuous study, that he was compelled to suspend his exer 
 tions, and think of seeking a temporary change of climate. The arrival of 
 Rev. George II. Hough at Rangoon, to reinforce the mission, caused him 
 to relinquish this purpose. Mr. Hough brought a printing-press, the gift of 
 the Serampore mission, by which the tract just mentioned and a catechism 
 were soon ready for circulation. A translation of the Gospel of Matthew 
 was next undertaken, and printed in the course of the following year. 
 
 The tracts were not without effect in calling the attention of the people to 
 the "new religion." In March, 1817, an intelligent man, with great serious 
 ness of manner, came to the mission-house as an inquirer, from whom Mr. 
 Judson caught with grateful wonder, "the first acknowledgment of an 
 eternal God he had ever heard from the lips of a Burman." It was now 
 resolved to commence public preaching, and in December, Mr. Judson 
 sailed for Chittagong, in Arracan, to obtain the services of a native Christian 
 as an assistant. The vessel was driven out of its course, and he was landed 
 at Madras, where he was detained till the June following. Great anxiety 
 was excited at Rangoon by information from Chittagong, that the vessel 
 
518 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 had not been heard from. To add to the perplexity of their situation, the 
 missionaries were startled by a summons, couched in menacing terms, com 
 manding Mr. Hough s presence at the court-house. The viceroy had hith 
 erto treated them with respect and kindness ; the change was equally mvs- 
 terious and alarming. It afterward appeared that a royal order for the 
 expulsion of three Portuguese priests, from the laxity of its terms, had 
 been held to include all foreign religious teachers. After some day s alarm 
 and vexation, Mr. Hough was released from arrest, but these events, together 
 with rumors of war with the British Indian government, excited such fear, 
 that he set sail for Bengal, taking with him the chief part of the printing 
 apparatus. Mrs. Judson at first proposed to share his flight, an-d actually 
 went on board the vessel, but finally determined, though alone, and uncer 
 tain whether her husband was living, to remain at Rangoon, and there 
 await his coming, or the tidings that should confirm her darkest forebod 
 ings. In a few days her heroic decision was rewarded by Mr. Judson s 
 return, and not long after, Rev. Messrs. Coleman and Wheelock arrived 
 from the United States to join the misston. Their presence was hailed 
 with the liveliest satisfaction, but it soon became painfully evident that 
 neither had the physical strength to endure the toils of missionary life. 
 
 Though foiled in the purpose for which his voyage to Chittagong was un 
 dertaken, Mr. Judson went forward with his design to attempt public 
 preaching. The comparatively quiet manner in which the mission had 
 hitherto been conducted screened them from official jealousy, but with a 
 change of policy this security would be at an end. Trusting, however, in 
 the divine protection, the decisive step was taken. A zayat, a building 
 which in Burmah answers the two-fold purpose of an inn or caravansery 
 and an edifice for public meetings, was erected on an eligible site, and 
 opened for worship in April, 1819. A small congregation was gathered, 
 and the only living and true God was for the first time publicly adored, 
 and his message of mercy proclaimed in the Burmese language. 
 
 The thirtieth of April was a memorable day : Moung Nau, the first 
 Burman convert, then made his appearance at the zayat. He continued 
 his visits daily, till, on the 5th of May, Mr. Judson recorded his confident 
 hope that a soul was truly won. " It seems almost too much," he says, 
 "to believe that God has begun to manifest his grace to the Burmans.; but 
 this day I could not resist the delightful conviction that this is really the 
 case. PRAISE AND GLO!IY BE TO HIS NAME FOB EVERMORE. Amen." On 
 the 5th of June, Moung Nau presented a written application for baptism, 
 which was administered on the 27th in "a large pond in the vicinity, the 
 bank of which is graced with an enormous image of Gaudama." The first 
 success was gained, the first living stone laid for the spiritual temple that 
 is to glorify God in Burmah. 
 
 Two additional converts were received to the fellowship of the church 
 in November. Others were inquiring, among them Moung Shwa Gnong, 
 a learned man and subtle reasoner, who engaged Mr. Judson in animated 
 discussions for a considerable time. At last he confessed his belief in the 
 truths of Christianity. The viceroy was informed that he had changed his 
 religion. "Inquire further," was his significant order. Moung Shwa 
 Gnong was terrified. The other inquirers shared his apprehensions, and 
 
OF AMERICANS. 519 
 
 the zayat was deserted except by the three Christian Burmans. Under these 
 circumstances, an appeal to the king appeared to the mission the only re 
 source. Fear restrained the people, and only a pledge of toleration by the 
 government, it seemed, would enable them to prosecute their work with 
 ihe hope of success. 
 
 Messrs. Judson and Coleman accordingly set out, on the 22d of Decem 
 ber, to ascend the Irrawadi to Amarapoora, then the capital of the empire. 
 Mr. Wheelock was no more, having died in August They reached tho 
 "golden city" on the 25th of January. On the 27th, the king having sig 
 nified his willingness to see them, they repaired to the palace, taking with 
 them, the Bible, in six volumes, gilded in Burman style, as a present to the 
 king, a revised copy of the "Summary of the Christian Religion" for his 
 majesty s information, and a respectful prayer for toleration. Moung Zah, 
 one of the chief ministers, conducted them to a magnificent hall,, where 
 they awaited the royal presence. The "golden foot" approached. "He 
 came," says Mr. Judson, " unattended, in solitary grandeur, exhibiting 
 the proud gait and majesty of an eastern monarch. He strided on. Every 
 head excepting ours was now in the dust. We remained kneeling, our 
 hands folded, our eyes fixed on the monarch. When he drew near we at 
 tracted his attention. He stopped, partly turned toward us; Who are 
 these ? The teachers, great king, I replied. * What, you speak Bur 
 man ? " After a series of questions respecting themselves and their 
 nation, the petition was read aloud. He took it in his hand, and read it 
 deliberately through. Without saying a word, he returned it, and took the 
 tract. He held it long enough to read the first two sentences, which af 
 firmed the existence one eternal God, and dashed it to the ground. The 
 present was unfolded, but no notice was taken of it. The minister inter 
 preted the royal silence in these words : "In regard to the objects of your 
 petition, his majesty gives no order. In regard to your sacred books, his 
 majesty has no use for them ; take them away." 
 
 Some further efforts were made to accomplish their purpose, but in vain. 
 Exhausted with fatigue and excitement, disappointment of their object, 
 and looking for the certain abandonment of their mission, they returned to 
 Rangoon. On their way they met Moung Shwa Gnong, and related the 
 failure of their petition. He showed less alarm than they expected, and 
 calmly reaffirmed his faith in Christianity. At Rangoon they disclosed their 
 sad tidings to the three disciples, and intimated their intention to remove to 
 the border of Arracan, among a Burman population under British protection. 
 To their surprise, the disciples, so far from being disheartened, vied with 
 each other in expressions of courageous zeal. If the missionaries removed, 
 they would accompany them ; if not, they Would stand by them. They 
 earnestly desired that Rangoon might not be abandoned, and it was not. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Judson remained where they were. Mr. Coleman fixed his 
 abode at Chittagong, to provide a retreat for them in case of danger. But 
 his time was short. In a littlo more than two years he fell a martyr to tha 
 intensity of his zeal. 
 
 The missionary pair were alone at Rangoon, but were cheered by the 
 constancy of the disciples and the visits of inquirers. Three persons were 
 added to their little church in the spring and summer of 1820. The health 
 
520 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of Mrs. Jndson required a voyage to Bengal, in which it was necessary 
 that she should be accompanied by her husband. Four additional converts, 
 one of them the learned Moung Shwa Gnong, and another a female disci 
 ple, the first of her sex in Burmah, applied for baptism, arid received the 
 rite before their departure. Thus, against all discouragements, the work 
 went on. They had acquired the language, a grammar and dictionary wero 
 compiled, the Gospel of Matthew and some tracts had been printed, the 
 Epistle to the Ephesians was translated, public worship established, and 
 in the face of the royal frown ten persons had made an open profession 
 of Christianity. After about six months residence in Bengal, the mission 
 aries returned to Rangoon in January, 1821. They were joyfully welcomed 
 by the disciples, who, though without the regular means of grace, and dis 
 persed through fear of petty officers, had continued steadfast in the faith, 
 and another was added to their number in March. 
 
 The improvement in Mrs. Judson s health was transient, and in the sum 
 mer of 1821 she visited America, where she spent about a year. The 
 voyage was undertaken alone, as Mr. Judson felt that in the present state of 
 his work he could not leave Rangoon. By the publication of a history of 
 the mission, and her personal appeals, she deepened the public inter 
 est for its furtherance, and on her return was accompanied by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wade, appointed to reinforce them. During her absence Mr. Judson, 
 besides forwarding the translation of the New Testament, had gathered 
 several converts, making the whole number eighteen. The arrival of Dr. 
 Price, who joined the mission soon after Mrs. Judson s departure, led to 
 another visit to the capital, the king having heard of his medical skill, and 
 ordered him to report himself immediately at court. Mr. Judson accom 
 panied him, with the hope of making a more favorable impression respect 
 ing his missionary labors. For some time no notice was taken of him, 
 except as interpreter of Dr. Price, who received very kind attention. After 
 three days attendance at the palace, his majesty condescended to ask some 
 questions about his religion, and put the alarming interrogatory whether 
 any had embraced it. The evasive answer, " Not here," would not do. 
 "Are there any at Rangoon ?" "There are a few." "Are they Burmans 
 or foreigners ?" The truth must out. " There are some Burmans and 
 some foreigners." The king showed no displeasure, but calmly continued 
 the conversation. 
 
 By some of the ministers and officers in the court Mr. Judson was 
 treated with much consideration, and the claims of Christianity were freely 
 and candidly discussed. The king was pleased to direct that the mission 
 aries should remain at Ava, and land was given them for the erection of 
 dwellings. These arrangements having been made, Mr. Judson returned 
 to Rangoon. Here he completed the translation of the New Testament, 
 and composed an epitome of the Old, to serve the converts till the entire 
 Scriptures could be put into their hands. On the 5th of December, 1823, 
 he welcomed Mrs. Judson and Mr. and Mrs. Wade, and immediately re 
 moved with his wife to Ava, "not knowing the things that should befall 
 them there," leaving Mr. Hough with the new missionaries at Rangoon. 
 For a little time he preached in the imperial city, but the work was sud 
 denly arrested, and the persons of the missionaries placed in great peril, by 
 
OF AMERICANS. 521 
 
 the commencement of a war with the British East Indian government. 
 Mrs. Judson had been warned of the probability of such an event on her 
 arrival at Calcutta, from the United States, but disregarded the advice of 
 her friends to forbear returning to Burmah. 
 
 The storm burst soon-er than had been anticipated. The encroachments 
 of the Burmans on the territories of the East India Company had beeu 
 .ong complained of, but the king, with ignorant vanity, attributed the re 
 monstrances of the English to fear. He collected an army to invade Ben 
 gal, with instructions to bring the governor-general in golden fetters to Ava ! 
 The English resolved to anticipate his movements, and in May, 1824, a 
 force of six thousand men, under command of Sir Archibald Campbell, at 
 tacked Rangoon. The viceroy forthwith ordered the arrest of every person 
 in town, " who wore a hat." Messrs. Hough and Wade were seized, and 
 condemned to instant death, but were reprieved, and after much suffering 
 were released by the English. They then removed with all speed to Ben 
 gal, where Mr. Wade pursued the study of the language, and put to press 
 Mr. Judson s Burman dictionary, a work of modest pretensions, but of no 
 little utility. 
 
 For two years no information was received of the fate of the missionaries 
 at Ava. Whether they were murdered at the first outbreak of hostilities, 
 or worn out by slower tortures, or still lingered in captivity, could not be 
 conjectured. The suspense was almost intolerable. And when the silence 
 was broken by tidings of their safety, the general joy was mingled with inex 
 pressible sympathy, at the recital of sufferings more dreadful than the pains 
 of death, visited upon their devoted heads. 
 
 The news of the capture of Rangoon by the English had reached Ava, 
 Sunday, May 23d, 1824. Soon after a rumor was circulated that papers had 
 been received from Bengal, which made known the purpose of the British 
 to make an attack at that point In consequence of this report certain 
 Englishmen at Ava were examined. It was found that they had seen the 
 papers, and they were put in confinement, and subsequently transferred to 
 the death-prison. 
 
 It being known that the American missionaries had frequent communica 
 tions with Bengal, the suspicion that they were spies soon rested on them, 
 but after examination they were allowed to return to their homes. They 
 had but a short respite. On the 8th of June, as Mr. Judson was prepar 
 ing for dinner, the veranda of his dwelling was suddenly thronged with 
 people, and an officer, holding a black book, rushed in, "accompanied by 
 one who, from his spotted face, was known to be an executioner and a son 
 of the prison. Where is the teacher? was the first inquiry. Mr. Judson 
 presented himself. You are called by the king, said the officer a form 
 of speech always used when about to arrest a criminal." He was instantly 
 seized, thrown on the floor, tightly bound with cords, and struck with the 
 knees and elbows in the act of being secured. These cords were so firmly 
 bound round his arms that the skin was cut. 
 
 An offer of money on the part of Mrs. Judson drew the attention of tho 
 officer to her, and a command was given to the spotted face to take her 
 likewise ; and but for the earnest entreaties of Mr. Judson that they would 
 wait for further instructions, it is probable she would have been subjected to 
 
522 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 like indignities. It was in vain that the spotted face was entreated to take 
 the silver and loosen the cords, and thus bound Mr. Judson was removed 
 from his house. In a short time he was again thrown down, the cords 
 drawn more tightly, and repeated strokes of the knee made on his back, so 
 as almost to induce fainting. Money was then demanded for loosening tho 
 cords. "A Christian native, who had followed at a distance, now came 
 forward and offered to go back for the money, but before his return the 
 anguish endured was so great that Mr. Judson was obliged to appeal to the 
 numerous bystanders. Is there no one who knows me ? Is there no one 
 who will be my security for the money no one who pities me? I am a 
 priest, and though a foreign one, deserve not such indignity, such torture. 
 But none stepped forward, and the cruel monster persisted in tightening tho 
 cords until the arrival of Moung Ing, with ten ticals of pure silver, when 
 his arms were somewhat relieved, so as to allow a more free respiration, and 
 he was again hurried forward a distance of nearly two miles to the prison- 
 house. Here the order to commit the missionaries to the death-prison was 
 read. According to Dr. Price, it was very laconic. "P. and J. catch and 
 put in prison." The .dreaded functionary who presided over this fearful 
 abode, immediately took charge of Mr. Judson, who, having been fettered 
 with three pairs of irons, was "strung" on a bamboo pole, on which were 
 five foreign residents, who had been taken a few hours before. "At first," 
 according to the testimony of Mr. Laird, one of the captives, "the whole of 
 the prisoners had a long bamboo passed between the legs, over the fetters, 
 so that one leg rested on the bamboo and the other on the platform on 
 which we lay." 
 
 A few hours after Mr. Judson s capture, Dr. Price was seized ad taken 
 to the same dreary abode. His sensations on entering the prison he has 
 thus described: "Horror of horrors! what a sight ! Never to my dying 
 day shall I forget the scene ; a dim lamp in the midst, just making dark 
 ness visible, and discovering to my horrified gaze sixty or seventy wretched 
 objects, some in long rows, made fast in the stocks, some strung on poles, 
 some simply fettered ; but all sensible of a new accession of misery in the. 
 approach of a new prisoner. Stupefied, I stopped to gaze, till, goaded on, 
 I proceeded toward the farther end, when I again halted. A new and unex 
 pected sight met -my eyes. Till now I had been kept in ignorance of the 
 fate of my companions ; a long row of white objects, stretched on the floor 
 in a most crowded situation, revealed to me, however, but too well their 
 sad case." In this company he found Mr. Judson. Though it might have 
 been thought that the presence of his associate would have been almost a 
 cause of gladness, yet our subject, altogether forgetful of himself, ex- 
 cluirned to Dr. Price, " We all hoped you had escaped, you were so long 
 coming." 
 
 " Here," writes Dr. Price, "side by side we were allowed the only gratifi 
 cation left, of condoling in the Burmah language with each other. Now 
 you are arrived, and our number is complete, I suppose they will proceed 
 to murder us, was the first thing suggested, and no one could say it was 
 improbable. To prepare for a violent death, for immediate execution, w.aa 
 our consequent resolution. And now we began to feel our Strength, our 
 Strong-hold, our Deliverer in this dark abode of misery." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 503 
 
 Thus did the Lord manifest his presence to his servants, though they 
 had no bed but the filthy, greasy floor of the prison, and were unable to 
 move their bodies for the bamboo which passed through their limbs. At 
 the same time the stench was almost intolerable ; and the night being 
 rainy, the water found a ready entrance through the boards of their prison. 
 
 Mrs. Judson was placed under surveillance for the first two days of her 
 husband s incarceration, but on the third day she was relieved from the 
 presence of her guard, and having visited the governor, obtained from him 
 an order for admission to the prison. In a letter to Dr. Elnathan Judson, 
 she says : The sensations produced by meeting your brother in that 
 wretched, horrid situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not 
 attempt to describe. Mr. Judson crawled to the door of the prison for I 
 was not allowed to enter gave me some directions relative to his release; 
 but before we could make any. arrangements I was ordered to depart by 
 those iron-hearted jailors, who could not endure to see us enjoy the poor 
 consolation of meeting in that miserable place. In vain I pleaded the 
 order from the governor for my admittance ; they again harshly repeated, 
 Depart, or we will pull you out. " 
 
 Having made a payment of a hundred ticals for each of the missionaries, 
 "the same evening," Mrs. Judson writes, "the missionaries, together with 
 the other foreigners, who paid an equal sum, where taken out of the com 
 mon prison, apd confined in an open shed in the prison inclosure. Here I 
 was allowed to send them food, and mats to sleep on ; but was not permit 
 ted to enter again for several days." 
 
 One of the first scenes which the missionaries were compelled to behold 
 was the torture of a criminal, whose shoulders and hip joints were almost 
 or quite dislocated by the ingenious appliances of Burman cruelty. " We 
 only anticipated," Dr. Price says, " in every contortion and groan of the un 
 happy man the state we might soon be in. * Then there was reason for 
 great alarm on account of the keeper to whose charge they were chiefly 
 committed, for, like most Burman constables, he was a reprieved malefac 
 tor. As described by Mr. Crawford, who saw him in 1856, he was "an old 
 man of sixty, lean, and of a most villainous countenance. He was by birth 
 of the tribe of the Kynes, had murdered his master, and had a large circle 
 on each cheek, with the Burman words Lu that, or man-killer, in very 
 large letters on his breast." This man seemed to delight in the sufferings 
 of those committed to his charge. In addition to these things, Mr. Judson 
 thought of a wife just returned from the refined society of England and 
 America, liable to all the savage cruelties he was enduring. Already she 
 had been threatened with violence, and in every effort to minister to him 
 she was at fearful peril. 
 
 The presence of Mrs. Judson, though a cause of anxiety, was r everthe- 
 less an incalculable blessing. Her heroic and unfaltering intercessions with 
 those in authority, combined with her personal ministry for his relief, to all 
 human appearance, were indispensable to the preservation of his life. 
 
 When first incarcerated, Mrs. Judson entertained considerable hope that 
 relief might be found for her afflicted partner if she could secure the favor 
 able regard of the queen. No person being admitted into the palace who 
 was in disgrace with the king, she determined to see the sister-in-law of 
 
524: * ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 her majesty, hoping to interest her in his behalf. This interview she has 
 described : "1 had visited her in better days, and received particular marks 
 of her favor. But now times were altered ; Mr. Judson was in prison, and 
 I in distress, which was a sufficient reason for giving me a cold reception. 
 I took a present of considerable value. She was lolling on her carpet as I 
 entered, with her attendants around her. I waited not for. the usual ques 
 tion to a suppliant, What do you want ? but in a bold, earnest, yet respect 
 ful manner, stated our distresses and our wrongs, and begged her assistance. 
 She partly raised her head, opened the present I had brought, and coolly re 
 plied, Your case is not singular ; all the foreigners are treated alike. 7 
 But it is singular, said I ; the teachers are Americans ; they are ministers 
 of religion, have nothing to do with war or politics, and came to Ava in 
 obedience to the king s command. They have never done anything to 
 deserve such treatment, and is it right they should be treated thus ? The 
 king does as he pleases, said she ; I am not the king ; what can I do ? 
 Yau can state tteir case to the queen, and obtain their release, replied I. 
 1 Place yourself in my situation ; were you in America, your husband, in 
 nocent of crime, thrown into prison, in irons, and you a solitary, unpro 
 tected female, what would you do ? With a slight degree of feeling, she 
 said, I will present your petition ; come again to-morrow. " 
 
 Mrs. Judson " returned to the house with considerable hope that the 
 speedy release of the missionaries was at hand." But her " hopes were 
 dashed " by the announcement " I stated your case to the queen, but hor 
 majesty replied, l jtfte teacliers will not die ; let them remain as they are. 1 " 
 
 After hearing this sentence, Mrs. Judson, on her way home, attempted to 
 enter the prison-gate, but was refused admittance, and for the ten days fol 
 lowing, notwithstanding her daily effort, was not allowed to enter. " We 
 attempted," she says, "to communicate by writing, and after being success 
 ful for a few days, it was discovered ; the poor fellow who carried the com 
 munications was beaten and put in stocks, and the circumstances cost me 
 about ten dollars, besides two or three days of agony for fear of the conse 
 quences." 
 
 Afterward they discovered other and safer method of correspondence. 
 Mrs. Judson says : " The means which we invented for communication were 
 such as necessity alone could have suggested. At first I wrote to him on a 
 flat cake baked for the purpose, and buried it in a bowl of rice ; and in return 
 he communicated his situation on a piece of tile, on which, when wet with 
 water, the writing became invisible, but when dried, perfectly legible. But 
 after some months experience, we found the most conv-dbient as well as 
 safest mode of writing was to roll up a chit and put it in the long nose of a 
 coffee-pot in which I sent his tea. These circumstances may appear trivial, 
 but they serve to show to what straits and shifts we were driven ; it was a 
 crime of the highest nature to be found making communications to a pris 
 oner, however nearly related." 
 
 After being repulsed by the queen s sister-in-law, Mrs. Judson says: "I 
 felt ready to sink down in despair, as there was then no hope of Mr. Jud- 
 son s release from another quarter ; but a recollection of the judge in the 
 parable, who, though he feared not God, nor regarded man, was moved by 
 the importunities of a widow, induced me to resolve to continua my visits 
 
OF AMERICANS. 525 
 
 until tLe object was attained. But here also I was disappointed ; for after 
 entreating her many times to use her influence in obtaining the release of 
 the missionaries, she became so irritated at my perseverance that she re 
 fused to answer my questions, and told me by her looks and motions that 
 it would be dangerous to make any further effort." 
 
 Though so often disappointed, Mrs. Judson s efforts for the release of the 
 prises ers were not intermitted. "For the seven following months," she 
 writes, " hardly a day passed that I did not visit some one of the members 
 of the government or branches of the royal family, in order to gain their 
 influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their encouraging 
 promises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the speedy ter 
 mination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our distresses better 
 than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to mention that, 
 by my repeated visits to the different members of government, I gained sev 
 eral friends, who were ready to assist me with articles of food, though in a 
 private manner, and who used their influence in the palace to destroy tho 
 impression of our being in any way engaged in the present war. But no 
 one dared to speak a word to tho king or queen in favor of a foreigner 
 while there were such continual reports of the success of the English 
 arms." 
 
 Such were some of the events without the prison, but it is difficult for 
 any to realize what passed within. Month after month of confinement and 
 anxiety passed in three pairs of fetters. The "continual extortions and 
 oppressions" of the first seven months, one of Mrs. Judson s letters de 
 clares "indescribable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, some 
 times pieces of cloth, and handkerchiefs ; at other times an order would be 
 issued that the white foreigners should not speak to each other, or have 
 any communication with their friends without. Then, again, the servants 
 were forbidden to carry in their food without an extra fee." 
 
 In January, 1825, Mrs. Judson became the mother of a little girl. 
 When this child was twenty days old, she caused her to be carried to the 
 prison as she went to visit her husband. It is difficult for a man to con 
 ceive a more touching scene than the subsequent interview. Mr. Judson 
 at this time composed some verses which, not unlike the celebrated adieu 
 of John Rogers, the martyr, to his ten bereaved children, have a value 
 wholly irrespective of their poetic merits. 
 
 UNE8 ADDRESSED TO AN INFANT DAUGHTER, TWENTY DAYS OLD, IN THK CON 
 DEM NED PRISON AT AVA. 
 
 Sleep, darling infant, sleep, 
 
 Hushed on thy mother s breast ; 
 Let no rude sound of clanking chains 
 
 Disturb thy balmy rest. 
 
 Sleep, darling infant, sleep, 
 
 Blest that thou canst not know 
 The pangs that rend thy parents hearts, 
 
 The keenness of their woe. 
 
626 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Sleep, darling infant, sleep ; 
 
 May Heaven its blessings shed, 
 In rich profusion, soi t and sweet, 
 
 On thine unconscious head ! 
 
 Why ope thy little eyes <j 
 What would my darling see ? 
 
 Her sorrowing mother s bending form 1 
 Her father s misery "i 
 
 Wouldst view this drear abode, 
 
 Where fettered felons lie, 
 And wonder that thy father here 
 
 Such place should occupy 1 
 
 Wouldst mark the dreadful sights 
 That stoutest hearts appal 
 
 The stocks, the cord, the fatal sword, 
 The torturing iron mall 1 
 
 No, darling infant, no : 
 Thou seest them not at all ; 
 
 Thou only mark st the rays of light 
 That flit along the wall. 
 
 Thine untaught infant eye 
 
 Can nothing clearly see ; 
 Sweet scenes of home and prison scene* 
 
 Are all the same to thee. 
 
 Stretch, then, thy little arms, 
 
 And roll thy vacant eye ; 
 Reposing on thy mother s breast 
 
 In soft security. 
 
 Go, darling infant, go ; 
 
 Thine hour is past away ; 
 The jailor s voice, in accents harsh, 
 
 Forbids thy longer stay. 
 
 God grant that we may meet 
 
 In happier times than this, 
 And with thy angel -mother dear, 
 
 Enjoy domestic bliss. 
 
 But should the gathering clouds 
 That Bunnah s sky o erspread 
 
 Conduct the fatal vengeance down 
 Upon thy father s head, 
 
 Where couldst thou shelter find "} 
 And whither wouldst thou stray 1 
 
 What hand support thy totteriug stej* 
 And guide thy darkling way 1 
 
 There is a God on high, 
 
 The glorious King of kings 
 Tis He to whom thy mother prays, 
 Whose love she sits and sings. 
 
OF AMEKICANS, 527 
 
 That glorious God, so kind, 
 
 Has sent his son to save 
 Our ruiiied race from siu and death, 
 
 And raise them, from the grave. 
 
 And to that covenant God 
 
 My darling I commend ; 
 Be thou the helpless orphan s stay, 
 
 Her Father and her Friend. 
 
 Inspire her infant heart 
 
 The Saviour s love to know, 
 And guide her through this dreary world 
 
 This wilderness of woe. 
 
 Thou sleep st again, my lamb, 
 
 And heed st not song nor prayer; 
 Go, sleeping in thy mother s arms, 
 
 Safe in a mother s care. 
 
 And when in future life 
 
 Thou know st thy father s tongue, 
 These lines will show thee how he felt 
 
 How o er his babe he sung. 
 
 During Mr. Judson s incarceration the war had been proceeding with dis 
 astrous results to the Burmese. Nevertheless, they showed no disposition 
 to treat for peace. In the beginning of 1825, Sir Archibald Campbell, the 
 commander of the British forces, seeing that the war would be indefinitely 
 protracted, unless he carried his conquests into the heart of the country, 
 resolved to march on Prome. This proceeding on his part, while it intim 
 idated the powers at Ava, caused them to meditate further, if not fatal, 
 vengeance on the foreigners whom they held in captivity. The effect of 
 their designs Mr. Judson was soon made to know. For some time, while 
 the other white prisoners had lived in an open shed, he had been permitted 
 to occupy a small bamboo room his wife had made for him, in which he was 
 much by himself, and where he had sometimes the privilege of her company 
 for two or three hours at a time. One morning in March this little room was 
 torn down, and his mat, pillow, etc., taken by his jailors, and himself and 
 the other white prisoners thrust into the inner prison, and five pairs of fet 
 ters placed on each. This treatment, though very severe, was, it was af 
 terward found, by no means equal to the directions which had been given 
 by persons high in authority. 
 
 Mrs. Judson determined to see the governor, on whom her appeals had 
 been often successful, to know the cause of this new oppression. In the 
 morning, on going to his house, she saw his wife, who was ordered to tell 
 her "not to ask to have the additional fetters taken off, or the prisoners re 
 leased, for it could not be done." Nevertheless, she resolved to see the 
 governor, and in the evening again repaired to his house. The interview 
 she has thus described : " He was in his audience room, and, as I entered, 
 looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mixture of shame and affected 
 anger in his countenance. I began by saying, Your lordship has hitherto 
 
528 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 treated us With the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are very 
 great. We have looked to you for protection from oppression and cruelty 
 You have in many instances mitigated tlfe sufferings of those unfortunate 
 though innocent beings committed to your charge. You have promised mo 
 particularly that you would stand by me to the last, and though you should 
 receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. Judson to death. 
 What crime has he committed to deserve such additional punishment 7 1 
 The old man s hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child. I pity 
 you, Tsa-yar-ga-dati (a name by which he always called me) ; I knew you 
 would make me feel ; I therefore forbade your application. But you must 
 believe me when I say I do not wish to increase the sufferings of the pris 
 oners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is to 
 put them out of sight. I will now tell you, continued he, what I have 
 never before told you, that three times I have received intimations from 
 the queen s brother to assassinate all the white prisoners privately : but I 
 would not do it. And 1 now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I 
 will never execute your husband. But I cannot release him from his pres 
 ent confinement, and you must not ask it. I had never seen him manifest 
 so much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favor, which circumstance 
 was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us." 
 
 The situation of the prisoners Mrs. Judson describes as "distressing be 
 yond description. It was at the commencement of the hot season. There 
 were above a hundred prisoners shut up in one room, without a breath of air, 
 excepting from the cracks in the boards. I sometimes obtained permission to 
 go to the door for five minutes, when my heart sickened at the wretched 
 ness exhibited. The white prisoners, from incessant perspiration and loss 
 of appetite, looked more like the dead than the living. I made daily ap 
 plications to the governor, offering him money, which he refused ; but all 
 that I gained was permission for the foreigners to eat their food outside, and 
 this continued but a short time." 
 
 To the tender frame of Mr. Judson, already worn down by his sufferings, 
 these added severities were productive of serious consequences. After a 
 month s incarceration he was taken with a fever. " I felt assured," Mrs. 
 Judson writes, "he would not live long, unless removed from that noisome 
 place. The governor, being worn out by my entreaties, at length gave me 
 the order, in an official form, to take Mr. J. out of the large prison, and 
 place him in a more comfortable situation, and also gave orders to the head 
 jailor to allow me to go in and out, all times of the day, to administer rned 
 icine, etc. I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. J. instantly removed 
 into a little bamboo hovel, so low that neither of us could stand upright 
 but a palace in comparison to the place he had left," 
 
 Two or three days had been passed in this seeming "palace," when fur 
 ther miseries passed upon them. The most distinguished Burrnan general, 
 Bandoola, having been killed in battle, " the pakan woon, who, a few 
 month s before, had been so far disgraced by the king as to be thrown into 
 prison and irons, now offered himself to head a new army, that should ba 
 raised on a different plan from those which had hitherto been raised, and 
 assured the king, in the most confident manner, that he would conquer the 
 English, and restore those places that had been taken, in a very short time." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 529 
 
 In consequence of his exaltation to power, an order was issued for the 
 removal of the white prisoners to Oung -pen-la, some ten or twelve miles 
 from Ava. This removal was sudden and unexpected. Mrs. Judson, in 
 order to visit her husband, was accustomed to carry his food to the prison 
 herself. She had brought his breakfast to him one morning, which in con 
 sequence of fever he was unable to take, and had remained longer than 
 ujjal, when she was summoned to visit the governor. Immediately after 
 fche had gone out, "one of the jailors rushed into Mr. Judson s little room, 
 roughly seized him by the arm, pulled him out, stripped him of all his 
 clothes except shirt and pantaloons, took his shoes, hat, and all his bed 
 ding, tore off his chains, tied a rope around his waist, and dragged him to 
 the court-house." Here he was bound to another of his companions in mis 
 ery, and "delivered into the hands of the lamine-woon, who went on be 
 fore them on horseback, while his slaves drove the prisoners, one of the 
 slaves holding the rope which connected two of them together." In this 
 manner they proceeded on their march. Mrs. Judson describes it : 
 
 "It was in May, one of the hottest months in the year, and eleven 
 o clock in the day, so that the sun was intolerable indeed. They had pro 
 ceeded only half a mile, when your brother s feet became blistered ; and 
 so great was his agony, even at this early period, that as they were crossing 
 the little river, he ardently longed to throw himself into the water to be 
 free from misery. But the sin attached to such an act alone prevented. 
 They had then eight miles to walk. The sand and gravel were like burning 
 coals to the feet of the prisoners, which soon became perfectly destitute of 
 skin, and in this wretched state they were goaded on by their unfeeling 
 drivers, leaving behind, as they passed along, the bloody tracks of their raw 
 and lacerated feet." Some idea of the truthfulness of this description may 
 be gained from the fact that Mr. Judson s feet were torn in such a manner 
 that for six weeks he was not able to stand. 
 
 It is no wonder, exhausted with the travel to which he was exposed, that 
 he thought even the heart of a barbarian might show some sympathy. 
 " When about half way on their journey, as they stopped for water, he 
 begged the lamine-woon to allow him to ride his horse a mile or two, as 
 He could proceed no farther in that dreadful state." 
 
 To this petition "a scornful, malignant look was all the reply that was 
 made ;" but nevertheless He who suffereth not a sparrow to fall unnoticed 
 to the ground, had provided him a yoke-fellow who was a strong, healthy 
 man, and to him, as a companion in misfortune, he applied for help f 
 begging to be allowed to " take hold of his shoulder, for he was fast sink 
 ing. This the kind-hearted man granted for a mile or two, but then found 
 the additional burden insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger s 
 Bengalee servant came up to them, and, seeing the distresses of your 
 brother, took off his head-dress, which was made of cloth, tore it in two, gave 
 half to his master, and half to Mr. Judson, which he instantly wrapped 
 round his wounded feet, as they were not allowed to rest even for a mo 
 ment. The servant then offered his shoulder to Mr. Judson, who was al 
 most carried the remainder of the way." Through this man s assistance 
 he reached the court-house at Amarapoora. 
 
 To one of the prisoners, an old man, named Constantine. a Greek, the 
 
530 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 journey proved fatal. Pie was taken out of the prison at Ava in perfect 
 health, but was so overcome by the sun that he fell down on the way. 
 " His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until they themselves were 
 wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was carried the remaining 
 two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or two after their ar 
 rival at the court-house." Mr. Judson considered that had it not been for 
 the Bengalee servant he should have shared his fate. 
 
 When the company arrived at Amarapoora, the " lamine-woon, seeing 
 the distressing state of the prisoners, and that one of their number was 
 dead, concluded they should go no farther that night ; otherwise they 
 would have been driven on until they reached Oung-pen-la the same day. 
 An old shed was appointed for their abode during the night, but without 
 am thing to cover them. The curiosity of the lamine-woon s wife induced 
 her to make a visit to the prisoners, whose wretchedness considerably ex 
 cited her compassion, and she ordered some fruit, sugar, and tamarinds for 
 their refreshment; and the next morning, rice was prepared for them, and 
 poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners, who had been almost des 
 titute of food the day before." 
 
 None of the prisoners being able to walk, carts were provided, and they 
 were thus conveyed to the prison at Oung-pen-la, an old, shattered and 
 roofless building. 
 
 In the journey thus taken they were " entirely ignorant of what was to 
 become of them, and when they arrived at Oung-pen-la, and saw the dilap 
 idated state of the prison, they immediately, all as one, concluded that 
 they were to be burned, agreeably to the report which had been previously 
 in circulation at Ava. They all endeavored to prepare themselves for the 
 awful scene anticipated, and it was not until they saw preparations making 
 for repairing the prison, that they had the doubt that a cruel, lingering 
 death awaited them." 
 
 Mr. Judson had been at his new abode but two hours, and was sitting 
 under a low projection outside of the prison, probably meditating on the 
 sorrows and trials of his noble wife, when on lifting his eyes he saw her 
 approaching with her babe. By great perseverance, and after a night of 
 indescribable agony she had discovered his destination, and hastened to 
 share the sorrows of his new place of captivity. It is not wonderful that, 
 with his-aftection for her, he exclaimed, "Why have you come ? I hoped 
 you would not follow, for you cannot live here." 
 
 At Oung-pen-la "the prisoners were at first chained t\vo and two ; but 
 as soon as the jailors could obtain chains sufficient they were separated, and 
 each prisoner had but one pair. While they were coupled, Mr. Judson 
 had Dr. Price for his associate. Though the journey proved so fearful an 
 ordeal, yet in this new place of captivity he was much more comfortably 
 situated than in the city prison. One pair of fetters was used instead of 
 three or five, and " when recovered from his fever and wounds he was al- 
 4 owed to walk in the prison inclosure. In addition to this, "a large airy 
 shed" was "erected in front of the prison, whero the prisoners were 
 allowed to remain during the day, though locked up in a little close prison 
 at night." 
 
 This comparative relief did not extend beyond the body. Mrs. Judsoo 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 has spoken of Oung-pen-la as "that never-to-be-forgotten place." To her it 
 proved the scene of greatest trial ; for her privations far exceeded any she 
 had been called to endure at Ava. It was, therefore, a place in \vhich her 
 husband experienced great mental anguish. Her sole abode was a little 
 filthy room in the jailor s house. This was half filled with grain, and she 
 was destitute of even a chair or other household convenience. The morn 
 ing after her arrival a native child whom she had taken with her from Ava 
 was seized with the small-pox, and shortly after her infant took the same 
 disease, and over three months passed before its recovery. She was herself 
 taken sick with a disease peculiar to the country ; and after making a 
 journey to Ava with great difficulty for medicines, returned to crawl on to 
 a mat in the jailor s house, and laid sick for more than two months. 
 
 As Mrs. Judson s sickness deprived her child of its usual sustenance, the 
 jailor, having been bribed by presents, allowed Mr. Judson to come out of 
 his prison to seek aid in the village. Scarcely is it possible to conceive of 
 a more affecting sight than that which was presented when a man whose 
 memory all Christendom honors, walked barefooted, in shirt and pantaloons, 
 through Oung-pen-la, carrying the little " emaciated creature around the 
 village, to beg a little nourishment from those mothers who had young chil 
 dren." 
 
 During all these afflictions, the caprice of the keeper of the prison often 
 proved a cause of bitter sorrow. "Sometimes our jailor," Mrs. Judson 
 says, "seemed a little softened at our distress, and for several days together 
 allowed Mr. Judson to come to the house, which was to me an unspeaka 
 ble consolation. Then, again, they would be .as iron-hearted in their de 
 mands as though we were free from sufferings." Perhaps the reader may 
 form some judgment of this iron-heartedness from the statement of Mr. 
 Laird, that, to extort money from him, he was four or five times put into 
 he stocks, and had to pay four times for the fetters he had on. 
 
 In this incarceration Mr. Judson and his fellow-prisoners escaped the lot 
 which was intended for them. The village of Oung-pen-la was the native 
 place of the pakan-woon, and it was his intention in sending them thither 
 to massacre them at the head of the army, which was to march through 
 Oung-pen-la for the purpose. But about a month after he was raised to 
 power he was suspected of treason, and put to death by being trod upon 
 by elephants. 
 
 " While Mr. Judson was detained here, hostilities had been continued, 
 and with such success on the part of the British, that the Burmans began 
 to find it necessary to negotiate, and a capable interpreter being indispensa 
 ble, an order was issued for him to repair to Ava. Here he was again 
 placed in prison, but the next day he was sent to the Burraan camp at Ma- 
 loun. In going there he was "crowded into a little boat, where he had 
 not room sufficient to lie down, and where his exposure to the cold, damp 
 nights threw him into a violent fever, which had nearly ended all his suf 
 ferings. He arrived at Maloun on the third day, when, ill as he was, he 
 was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He remained 
 at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in prison, 
 excepting he ivas not in irons, nor exposed to the insults of those cruel 
 jailors." 
 
 34 
 
532 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 At the end of this time, and within five minutes notice, he was returned 
 to Ava. " On his way up the river, he accidentally saw the communica 
 tion made to government respecting him, which was simply this : We 
 have no furtner use for Yoodthan ; we therefore return him to the golden 
 city. " Mrs. Judson having heard of his arrival, sent a message to the 
 governor of the north gate, who had formerly shown a disposition to oblige 
 them, begging him to intercede to prevent his return to prison. He imme 
 diately presented a petition to the high court of the empire, offered him 
 self as Mr. Judson s security, and obtained his release. 
 
 Our missionary no sooner felt himself at liberty, than he directed his way 
 to his own former residence. Here he found his heroic companion slowly 
 recovering from the spotted fever, which, from its usual fatal character and 
 the want of medical assistance, she had expected would prove fatal ; and, 
 indeed, so nearly had her expectations been realized, that she had been 
 pronounced dead by her attendants. For the satisfaction of his surety, 
 Mr. Judson made his residence with him, and as soon as returning health 
 would allow, Mrs. Judson was removed there. 
 
 While the events narrated above were taking place, General Campbell, 
 wearied with the dissimulation of the Burmans, recommenced operations, 
 and with his victorious forces was making his way toward the capital. The 
 king and his advisers had several times rejected the terms offered by the 
 English commander ; but they were now greatly humiliated, and, anxious to 
 save the "golden city," sought to reopen negotiations. Mr. Judson was en 
 treated to go as their representative to the English camp ; but he declined, 
 and advised their sending Dr. Price, who had no objection to the embas- 
 sage. In accordance with this proposition, the latter \yas sent in company 
 with Dr. Sandford, an English officer who had been taken prisoner. They 
 were not able to induce General Campbell to abate the terms which he 
 had offered, any further than procuring permission that the hundred lacs of 
 rupees he had demanded should be paid in four installments. In addition 
 to this, he gave intimation in strong terms that all the foreign prisoners 
 must be surrendered. 
 
 Fresh disasters induced the Burman government to yield to the terms of 
 the British general so far as to send Dr. Price with some of the prisoners, 
 and with an offer of a part of the money. In his second embassage he 
 was, of course, unsuccessful. Meantime the British forces were continuing 
 their way, and each day saw them nearer the capital. This decisive move 
 ment filled the Burmans with alarm, and they determined to make Mr. 
 Judson their ambassador, He was accordingly taken by force and associated 
 with Dr. Price. Six lacs of rupees and most of the English prisoners were 
 sent down with them. Mr. Judson found, as previously reported, that the 
 terms must be scrupulously complied with. " The general and commissioner 
 would not receive the six lacs, neither would they stop their march ; but 
 promised if the sum complete reached them before they arrived at Ava, they 
 would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect 
 the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question, before 
 the Burmese government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who 
 expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would 
 not be made." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 533 
 
 Satisfied that further dissimulation and delay must prove hazardous, the 
 Burmans determined to yield all demands. 
 
 Now came the time of deliverance. Mrs. Judson says: "In two days 
 frcm the time of Mr. Judson s return, we took an affectionate leave of the 
 good-natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who 
 now accompanied us to the water-side, and we then left forever the banks 
 of Aviu 
 
 It was a cool moonlight evening in the month of February, that, with 
 hearts filled with gratitude to God, and overflowing with joy at our pros 
 pects, we passed down the Irrawaddy, surrounded by six or eight golden 
 boats, and accompanied- by all we had on earth. The thought that we had 
 still to pass the Burman camp would sometimes occur to damp our joy ; 
 for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. 
 Nor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about 
 midnight, where we were detained two hours, the woon-gayee and high 
 officers insisting that we should wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, who did 
 not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp, should go 
 on with the money, and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The 
 Burmese government still entertained the idea that, as soon as the English 
 had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, 
 and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance 
 might occur to break off the negotiations. Mr. Judson therefore stren 
 uously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The 
 officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. 
 Judson s assistance in making peace. 
 
 We now for the first time for more than a year and a half felt that we 
 were free, and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese. 
 And with what sensations of delight on the next morning did I behold tho 
 masts of the steamboat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of civ- 
 ?lized life ! As soon as our boat reached the shore, Brigadier A. and an 
 other officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited us 
 on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day, while 
 your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the 
 army, had encamped at Randabo, a few miles farther down the river. Mr. 
 Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald to 
 come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning intro 
 duced, and received with the greatest kindness by the general, who had a 
 tent pitched for us near his own, took us to his own table, and treated us 
 with the kindness of a father, rather than as strangers of another country." 
 
 Two days after their arrival at Yandabo, the treaty of peace was signed, 
 and the following day Mr. Judson wrote once more to America. It may 
 gratify the reader to peruse his account, so Paul-like in its terse enumera 
 tion of afflictions : 
 
 BRITISH CAMP, YANDABO, February 25, 1826. 
 
 REVEREND AND DEAR SIR : We survive a scene of suffering which, on 
 retrospect at the present moment, seems not a reality, but a horrid dream. 
 We are occupying a tent in the midst of Sir Archibald Campbell s staff, 
 and receiving from him and other British ofhcers all manner of kind atten 
 tions, proportionate to the barbarities we have endured for nearly two years. 
 
534: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 I was seized on the 8th of June, 1824, in consequence of the Avar with 
 Bengal, and, in company with Dr. Price, three Englishmen, one Armenian, 
 and one Greek, was thrown into the "death prison" at Ava, where we 
 lay eleven months nine months in three pairs, and two months in. five 
 pairs of fetters. The scenes we witnessed and the sufferings we underwent 
 during that period I would fain consign to oblivion. From the death prison 
 at Ava we were removed to a country prison, at Oung-pen-la, ten miles dis 
 tant, under circumstances of such severe treatment that one of our number, the 
 Greek, expired on the road, and some of the rest, among whom was myself, 
 were scarcely able to move for several days. It was the intention of gov 
 ernment, in removing us from Ava, to have us sacrificed, in order to insure 
 victory over the foreigners ; but the sudden disgrace and death of the ad 
 visor of that measure prevented its execution. I remained in the Oung- 
 pen-la prison six months in one pair of fetters, at the expiration of which 
 period I was taken out of irons, and sent under a strict guard to the Bur 
 mese head-quarters at Maloun, to act as interpreter and translator. Two 
 months more elapsed, when, on my return to Ava, I was released at the in 
 stance of Moving Shaw-loo, the north governor of the palace, and put 
 under his charge. During the six weeks I resided with him, the affairs of 
 government became desperate, the British troops making steady advances 
 on the capital ; and after Dr. Price had been twice dispatched to negotiate 
 for peace (a business which I declined as long as possible), I was taken by 
 force and associated with him. We found the British above Pugan, and on 
 returning to Ava with their final terms, I had the happiness of procuring 
 the release of the very last of my fellow-prisoners ; and on the 21st inst. 
 obtained the reluctant consent of government to my final departure from 
 Ava with Mrs. Judson. 
 
 On my first imprisonment, the small house which I had just erected was 
 plundered, and everything valuable confiscated. Mrs. Judsou, however, 
 was allowed to occupy the place, which she did until my removal to Oung- 
 pen-la, whither she followed. Subsequently to that period she was twice 
 brought to the gates of the grave ; the last time with the spotted fever, while 
 I was absent at Maloun. She had been senseless and motionless several days, 
 when the providential release of Dr. Price at the very last extremity gave an 
 opportunity for such applications as were blessed to her relief. On my return 
 I was astonished to find her in the most emaciated, helpless state, not hav 
 ing heard a word of her illness. She, however, rapidly recovered, and is 
 now in perfect health. Even little Maria, who came into the world a few 
 months after my imprisonment, to aggravate her parents woes, and who 
 has been, from very instinct it would seem, a poor, sad, crying thing, begins 
 to brighten up her little face, and be somewhat sensible of our happy de 
 liverance. 
 
 The treaty of peace was signed yesterday by the respective plenipoten 
 tiaries, according to the terms of which, the province of Arracan, and tb . 
 small provinces of Ya Tavoy and Mergui in the south are ceded to t l . 
 British. It was this consideration chiefly that induced me to embrace j<* 
 first opportunity of leaving Ava, where the only object I had in settJng 
 was to obtain some toleration for the Christian religion a favor which I 
 hope now to enjoy without leave from his golden-footed majesty. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 535 
 
 Sir Archibald has assigned us a large gun-boat for our accommodation 
 down y the river, and we expect to leave this in a very few days. 
 
 Respectfully yours, A. JUDSON." 
 Rev. Dr. Baldwn. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Judson remained in the British camp a fortnight. At the 
 end of that time, with a most grateful sense of the kindness of Sir Archi 
 bald Campbell and his officers, they resumed their voyage down the river in 
 the boat provided for them. On the 22d of March, Mrs. Judson was able 
 to write : " We have safely arrived in Rangoon, and once more find our 
 selves iii the old mission-house ! What shall we render to. the Lord for all 
 his mercies ?" 
 
 Thus, after an absence of two years and three months, our missionary 
 returned to the same place of abode he had occupied previous to the war. 
 
 The little flock of disciples at Rangoon was scattered, and several of 
 them, were dead. The survivors removed with their teachers, in the sum 
 mer of 1826, to Amherst, a new town, near the mouth of the Salweu, in 
 British Burmah. Here Mr. Judson hoped to devote himself unreservedly 
 to missionary work. But at the solicitation of Mr. Crawford, commissioner 
 of the British East Indian government, he accompanied an embassy to Ava 
 for negotiating a commercial treaty, to procure, if possible, the insertion of 
 a guaranty for religious freedom in the king s dominions. This, which 
 alone reconciled him to so long an absence from his chosen work, and from 
 a home that claimed his presence more imperatively than he conceived, en 
 tirely failed, and after several months detention he returned to Amherst, 
 to find his house desolate. Mrs. Judson, very soon after his departure, had 
 been seized with a fever that her enfeebled constitution was ill-fitted to re 
 sist, and sunk into the grave after an illness of eighteen days. The dread 
 ful tidings were conveyed to him at Ava, the more insupportable because 
 he was wholly unprepared for them, his last intelligence having assured 
 him of her perfect health. From the native Christians who surrounded 
 her death-bed, and the physician, who did all that skill could do for her re 
 covery, he heard of the celestial peace that sustained her departing spirit. 
 His only child soon followed her mother, and he was left a solitary mourner. 
 His cup of sorrow seemed full. The heart which had sustained all that 
 barbarian cruelty could inflict, was well-nigh crushed by this total bereave 
 ment. 
 
 Though the life of Mrs. Judson was, as it seemed, prematurely closed,, 
 it was long enough to exhibit a character which, in some of its elements, 
 has no parallel in female biography. Capacities for exertion and endurance, 
 such as few men have brought to great enterprises, were united to the most 
 engaging feminine qualities, fitting her at once to cheer the domestic retire 
 ment of her husband, and to share his most overwhelming trials and dan 
 gers. The record of her deeds and sufferings has moved the hearts of 
 myriads, in this and other lands, and her memory is immortal as the sym 
 pathies of our common humanity. 
 
 But the bereaved missionary sank not in inconsolable grief. Looking to 
 the eternal hills for help, he nerved himself anew to the fulfillment of hia 
 appointed ministry. Mr. and Mrs. Wade had reached Amherst shortly be 
 
536 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 fore tho return of Mr. Judson from Ava, and with them Rev. George D 
 Boaidman and wife, who had arrived in Bengal during the war. Besides 
 the original population of British Burmah, the provinces were the resort of 
 constant emigration, and Amhcrst grew rapidly into a considerable town. 
 But the government was soon transferred to Maulmain, on the east bank cf 
 the Salwen, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. The mission followed 
 in the course of the year 1827, and has since been permanently established 
 in that city. 
 
 There the work went rapidly forward. Schools were set up, two or three 
 houses of worship were opened, and during the years 1827 and 1828, between 
 thirty and forty converts were added to the church. The Tavoy station was 
 commenced by Mr. Boardman, under whose auspices Christianity began to be 
 communicated to the Karens, among whom it has since made such progress 
 as to astonish the Christian world. Mr. Judson continued at Maulmain till 
 the summer of 1830. Besides the ordinary duties of preaching and teach 
 ing, he thoroughly revised the New Testament, and prepared twelve smaller 
 works in the Burmese. In the spring of 1830, Mr. Wade visited Rangoon, 
 the success of a native preacher having made the presence of a missionary 
 desirable. His health did not admit of a residence in that climate, and Mr. 
 JuJson, who had not ceased to cherish a deep interest in the progress of 
 Christianity in Burmah Proper, repaired thither in May. He found a pre 
 valent spirit of inquiry, and resolved to penetrate into the interior. Ho 
 accordingly went up the Irrawadi to Prome. His boat at every landing 
 was visited by persons eager for books. Converts whom he had lost sight 
 of for years greeted him at one or two places as he passed, and he heard 
 of the conversion of others whom he had never seen, but who had derived 
 their knowledge of the truth indirectly from his instructions. For a month 
 or two he had numerous auditors, a few of whom seemed to have cordially 
 received the w r ord. Then came a sudden and mysterious reaction. The 
 zayat was nearly deserted. People seemed afraid to converse with him. 
 This state of things continuing till autumn, he reg&tded his work in 
 Prome as finished for the present, and returned to Rangoon, confident that 
 the now rejected truth w r ould bear fruit in due seau>n. It appeared that 
 the king had given orders for his expulsion, but that the governor, under 
 the influence of some unaccountable awe, had not ventured to execute 
 them. 
 
 At Rangoon he gave himself to the translation of the entire Scriptures. 
 He shut himself into an upper chamber, leaving a native evangelist to re 
 ceive inquirers, admitting only the most promising to his own apartment. 
 In spite of the known displeasure of the king, nearly half his time was ab 
 sorbed in these interviews. The spirit of inquiry deepened and widened 
 through all the surrounding country. During the great festival in honor of 
 Gaudama, held near tho close of the following winter, there were as many 
 as six thousand applications at his house for tracts. Some came from the 
 borders of Siam or the far north, saying, " Sir, we have seen a writing that 
 tells about an eternal God. Are you the man that gives away such writ 
 ings ? Pray, give us one, for we want to know the truth before we die ? 
 Or some from the interior, who had barely heard the name of the Saviour 
 **ould say, " Are you Jesus Christ s man ? Give us a writing that telld 
 
OF AMERICANS. 537 
 
 about Jesus Christ." The press at Maulmain worked day and night, but 
 could not meet the demands from all quarters. 
 
 In the summer of 1831, in consequence of the infirm state of Mr. 
 Wade s health, he remove d to Maulmain, and Mr. Wade, after a few months 
 respite, took his place at Eangoon. At Maulmain Mr. Jtidson prosecuted 
 the work of translation, but still preached in the city and the jungles. On 
 the last day of January, 1834, he completed the task with which he might 
 have rejoiced to seal up his earthly mission, the Bible in the Burmese 
 language. No words can more *fitly describe the emotions of that hour 
 than his own : "Thanks to God, I can now say, I have attained. I have 
 knelt down before Him, with the last leaf in my hand, and imploring his 
 forgiveness for all the sins which have polluted my labors in this depart 
 ment, and his aid in removing the errors and imperfections which necessa 
 rily cleave to the work, I have commended it to his mercy and grace. I 
 have dedicated it to his glory. May he make his own inspired word, now 
 complete in the Burman tongue, the grand instrument in filling all Burmah 
 with songs of praise to our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 Few, comparatively, of the myraids in whose behalf the great work was 
 undertaken, had a thought of the sublime transaction of that hour, and 
 none but he to whose supreme glory it was dedicated, could fully appre 
 hend the ultimate issues of the event. The kneeling missionary alone, 
 with the last leaf of the translated Bible, humbly and gratefully offering 
 it before the Divine Majesty, has been suggested as a subject for the pencil. 
 But he must be an artist elevated to more than a common measure of 
 celestial sympathy, who shall worthily represent to our senses a triumph 
 so purely spiritual. 
 
 In April of this year Mr. Judson was united in marriage with Mrs. 
 Boardman ; who, after the lamented death of her husband, had given her 
 self with unyielding devotion to the blessed work in which he so triumph 
 antly passed away, and through all her missionary career showed a spirit 
 nearly kindred to that of the "ministering angel" to the prisoners of Ava. 
 
 For some years he was engaged in the revision of the Scriptures, divid 
 ing his time between this and the superintendence of the native church at 
 Maulmain. The steady increase of the churches in numbers and in knowl 
 edge was an ample reward for all his toils, while the reinforcement of the 
 missions, and their extension into Siam and Assam, filled him with glad 
 ness in the prospect of the future. The arrival of fourteen missionaries in 
 1836, accompanied by Rev. Dr. Malcom, who was commissioned by the 
 Board to their stations in Asia, was an occasion of special joy. The con 
 ferences held, plans devised, the recollections and hopes awakened at this 
 season, must have made it memorable to them all. Since the lonely pio 
 neer landed in doubt and apprehension at Rangoon, more than twenty years 
 of labor and suffering had passed over his head. Not one witness of his 
 earlier struggles, not one sharer of his many fears and sorrows and of their 
 precious compensations, stood by his side. But a host, comparatively, had 
 succeeded, to carry forward by their united strength the work begun in 
 weakness, and not less than a thousand souls redeemed from the bondage 
 of idolatry attested the divine presence and benediction. 
 
 In 1838 his enfeebled health compelled a change of air, and he visited 
 
538 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Bengal. But the ardor of his spirit drove him back to his station without 
 any visible change for the better. The Board invited him to visit the 
 United States, which he gratefully but firmly declined. The revision of 
 the Scriptures was finished in 1840, and a second edition was put to press. 
 A recent writer in the Calcutta Review, understood to be well qualified to 
 pass judgment in this matter, hazards "the prediction, that as Luther s 
 Bible is now in the hands of Protestant Germany, so, three centuries hence, 
 Judson s Bible will be the Bible of the Christian churches of Burmah." In 
 the summer of 1841 he found it needful, for the sake of his family anj 
 himself, to make another voyage. They went to Bengal, where he was 
 compelled to bury his youngest child, proceeded to the Isle of France, and 
 thence returned to Maulmaiu, where they arrived, much invigorated, in 
 December. 
 
 The next year saw him engaged in another important undertaking, the 
 compilation of a complete dictionary of the Burmese language. He was 
 reluctant to be diverted from his ministerial labors by any further literary 
 tasks, but yielded to the solicitation of the Board, and to a conviction of 
 the importance of the work. His plan contemplated two complete vocab 
 ularies Burmese and English, and English and Burmese. It was inter 
 rupted by the illness of Mrs. Judson. A voyage along the Tenasserim 
 coast proved ineffectual for her recovery, and in the spring of 1845 her 
 helpless state appeared to demand a visit to the United States. In an 
 nouncing this purpose Mr. Judson warned the Board that he must not bo 
 expected to address public assemblies as the weakness of his lungs forbade 
 such exertion, and for a reason which shall be stated in his own words : 
 " In order to become an acceptable and eloquent preacher in a foreign 
 language, I deliberately abjured my own. When I crossed the river, I 
 burnt my ships. From long desuetude, I can scarcely put three sentences 
 together in the English language." Taking with him his family, and two 
 native assistants to carry forward his dictionary during his visit, he em 
 barked for Boston on the 26th of April. On arriving at Mauritius, Mrs. 
 Judson was so far revived that it was thought she might safely proceed 
 without her husband. The assistants were sent back, and he was about to 
 follow them, but the day before her reembarkation she suffered a relapse, 
 which determined him to go on with her. She grew weaker from day to 
 day, and it seemed that she must find a grave in the deep, but her life was 
 spared till they reached St. Helena. With an uncloudy prospect for the 
 heavenly felicity, her soul parted serenely from earth and all earthly ties. 
 Her mortal remains were committed to the dust on the first of September, 
 and the twice- widowed missionary tore himself away, to guide his mother 
 less- children to the land of their fathers. 
 
 He arrived at Boston on the 15th of October. A thrill of solemn and 
 grateful emotion was felt in every part of the land, and found expression 
 in countless forms. On the evening of the third day after he landed, B 
 large assembly was gathered, and the venerable President of the Board, 
 Rev. Dr. Sharp, addressed him in appropriate words of welcome. More 
 touching was the hearty embrace of Rev. Samuel Nott, jr., from whom he 
 had parted more than thirty years before ; who had privately and publicly 
 attested his unabated Christian affection since the change that caused theil 
 
OF AMERICANS. 53D 
 
 paths to diverge ; who heard, in his enforced retirement from missionary 
 service, of the arrival of his youthful associate and honored colleague, and 
 had hastened to greet him. Pressing through the congregation, he made 
 himself known. Who can guess what thoughts of the past crowded their 
 minds and subdued their hearts, at this unlooked-for meeting ! 
 
 Mr. Judson attended a special meeting of the Baptist General Conven 
 tion, called together in consequence of the separation of the Southern 
 churches his first interview with a body called into existence by his in 
 strumentality, and there received a more formal and memorable welcome. 
 Though forbidden to speak in public, a proposition to abandon the Arracan 
 mission drew from his lips a fervent protest, which, seconded by other 
 missionaries present, determined the Convention to retain all their stations 
 in the oast. By other public assemblies in the principal cities, ho was 
 received in a manner that told how deeply the story of his labors and suf 
 ferings had imprinted itself on the hearts of the people. Thus attracting 
 to himself the affectionate sympathy of thousands, and kindling higher, by 
 his presence, the flame of missionary zeal, refreshing his spirit by the 
 amenities of friendship, and recalling the memories of youth by visiting its 
 most cherished scenes, he continued in the land of his nativity till the llth 
 of July, 1846, when he once more set his face toward the field of his strug 
 gles and triumphs. He went not alone. A third gentle spirit gave her af 
 fections to soothe and her energies to sustain his soul, in the years of labor 
 and suffering that awaited him. This was Miss Emily Chubbuck, of Utica, 
 New York, a lady, widely known to literary circles as "Fanny Forester," 
 to whom he was married in June, 1846. Several new missionaries accom 
 panied them, and they arrived safely at Maulmain in December. 
 
 A revolution having taken place in Burmah, Mr. Judson removed to 
 Rangoon, the only city in the king s dominions where foreigners were per 
 mitted to reside. He found it impossible to do anything efficiently unless 
 he could obtain some countenance at Ava, but having no means at his dis 
 posal to undertake the journey at that time, he was obliged to resign all 
 hope in that quarter, and go back to Maulmain, and to his dictionary. Be 
 side his literary tasks, he assumed the pastoral care of the Burman Church, 
 and preached once on a Sabbath. In these pursuits he continued with his 
 wonted diligence, till disease laid its hand upon him in the autumn of 
 1849. 
 
 A severe cold in the month of September was followed by a fever that 
 prostrated his strength. A voyage on the coast and sea-bathing at Amherst 
 failed to restore his wasted energies, and he returned to Maulmain in a de 
 clining state. His sufferings were extreme, but his mind was peaceful, and 
 his habitual conversation was filled with the spirit of heaven. " The love 
 of Christ" was his absorbing theme, and love to his brethren in Christ dwelt 
 on his lips and breathed in his constant prayers. Though ready to depart, 
 if so it should please God, he yet longed to do more for Burmah, tc 
 finish the wearisome toil of literary investigation, and spare a few years for 
 the delightful work of preaching to the heathen. For this his- exhausted 
 nature struggled to the last, and when all hope of recovery at Maulmain 
 was lost, on the third of April, 1850, he bade farewell to his anxious com 
 panion, whose feeble health forbade her to accompany him, and with a 
 
54:0 . ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 single attendant set out on a voyage for the Isle of Bourbon. The passage 
 down the river was slow, and he nearly sunk under the combined force of 
 disease and the suffocating atmosphere. Once upon the sea he revived, 
 and the pilot-boat bore back a message full of hope. The relief was mo 
 mentary. For three days he endured indescribable sufferings that extorted 
 from his lips the exclamation, " that I could die at once, and go directly to 
 Paradise, where there is no pain!" To the question whether he felt the 
 presence of the Saviour, he quickly replied, "0, yes; it is all rigid, there! 
 I believe He gives me just so much pain and suffering as is necessary to fit 
 me to die, to make me submissive to his will." For the last day and a 
 half his agonies were dreadful to behold. In this state lie continued till a 
 few minutes before the going out of life. Then he was calm, and appa 
 rently free from pain. His last words were in remembrance of her from 
 whom he had parted in so much uncertainty a few days before, and a hur 
 ried direction for his burial. Then, gradually sink-ing, he "fell asleep" on 
 the afternoon of April 12th, and his mortal remains were committed to the 
 deep, thence to be raised incorruptible, when the sea shall give up its dead. 
 Smith s " History of the Heroes and Martyrs of the Modern Missionary 
 Enterprise," from which much of this sketch is derived, says, that Mr. 
 Jtidson combined in his experience the toils and sufferings of a missionary 
 pioneer, with the ablest rewards of missionary success. Often have men, m 
 a spirit of heroic courage and constancy, struggled with the first, and de 
 parted without enjoying the last. But ho who under cover of twilight 
 baptized the first Burman convert, lived to see twenty-six churches gath 
 ered with nearly five thousand communicants, the entire Bible in one ver 
 nacular, and the New Testament in others ; and the missions, by the aid 
 of a regular native ministry, extending on every side. He was not required 
 to look for the confirmation of his faith to promise and prophecy alone, but 
 was permitted to enjoy in his lifetime a fullness of success exceeding his 
 fondest hopes. 
 
THE CONDUCT 
 
 OF 
 
 OUR COUNTRY AND COUNTRYMEN 
 
 IN THEIE DIFFICULTIES WITH 
 
 AUSTRIA AND THE AUSTRIAN. 
 
 CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE ARREST AND IMPRISONMENT OF AN 
 
 AMERICAN IN HUNGARY THE CORRESPONDENCE OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 
 
 THE AMERICAN SECRETARY OF STATE, WITH CHEVALIER HULSEMAN, THE 
 
 AUSTRIAN MINISTER AMERICAN INTERVENTION IN BEHALF OF, AND 
 
 HOSPITALITY TO, THE HUNGARIAN EXILES, AND THE 
 
 HEROISM OF CAPTAIN INGRAHAM IN THE KOSTA AFFAIR. 
 
 AUSTRIA is an odious name to an American, for it is associated with a 
 government perhaps the most crafty in policy ; the most treacherous in ad 
 ministration, of all the despotisms that claim authority " by the Grace of 
 God and the Divine Right of Kings " to rule over men. Scarce one bright 
 spot in all her course, scarce one magnanimous act in any of her rulers can 
 be found to relieve the disgraceful page of her annals. 
 
 When the Hungarians attempted to throw off her yoke, the great heart 
 of this nation beat in sympathy with that heroic people, and joy ran through 
 all the land as tidings of victory after victory over the infamous House of 
 Hapsburg reached it from across the blue ocean. It was succeeded by sor 
 row most poignant, when at last it became known that the gallant nation 
 had gone down, under the combined armies of allied despots from without 
 and by treachery from within the sad history finally ending in the cold 
 blooded murder of her bravest generals after their surrender, victims to the 
 vengeance of a tyranny that spared not old age in its whitening hairs, nor 
 even the maiden in her youthful beauty. 
 
 It was the intense interest of our people in the Hungarian cause, 
 which led to the occurrences we are about to relate. They form a part of 
 our history aside events, it is true, but "touches" that by their form and 
 coloring indicate character with as much precision as those affairs which, 
 looming up in great proportions, strike at the first hurrying glance. 
 
 We need never despair of our own country when her millions can thus be 
 aroused to sympathize in the efforts of a gallant nation for freedom ; for it 
 shows that the spirit of Liberty is the first love in American bosoms, and 
 while this is so, whatever disasters may befall can be but temporary in tho 
 long years which God gives to the life of nations. 
 
 C541) 
 
542 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 ARREST AND IMPRISONMENT OF A YOUNG AMERICAN IS HUNGARY, BY TUB 
 OFFICIALS OF AUSTRIA. 
 
 Just after the great struggle of the Hungarian nation for independence 
 had closed so disastrous!} , and a wail of sorrow was ascending from all the 
 land, an American traveler entered their country to learn by personal inter 
 course, more of this unfortunate people. Charles Loring Brace was a young 
 man of education, then in Europe to engraft upon the solid structure of 
 scholastic culture, the graces of the varied knowledge that travel brings. He 
 found in Hungary all which, as a republican, he had longed to see on the con 
 tinent "a nation educated practically for freedom, passionately loving 
 it, ready to peril all to gain it a nation, too, of singularly generous and 
 manly character." No American gentlemen before had ever been known to 
 have mingled in their social life, and all that had come to us respecting that 
 distant people was as uncertain and unreliable as the coloring of romance. 
 His book, "Hungary in 1851" is a beautifully written tribute to the virtues 
 of a people of such pride of nationality that no stronger indignation at an 
 unworthy proposal can be expressed than in the simple utterance " I AM 
 A HUNGARIAN ! " 
 
 Mr. Brace entered Hungary in the spring, and at once penetrated to the 
 heart of the country. It was just after the first band of exiles under Gov 
 ernor Ujhazy, had reached America, and he found the few acts of kindness 
 from his countrymen to those unfortunate men keenly appreciated. Wher 
 ever it was known that he was an American, he was welcomed with a pas 
 sionate fervor that showed the intense feeling of those people. " We con 
 sider your countrymen," said they, " as our friends ; you have given us yout 
 sympathy and aid, and the time will never come when our homes will net 
 be open to you." He relates a touching instance of this appreciation which 
 occurred at a large and refined dinner company: "We had been chatting 
 pleasantly at the meal," says he, " when suddenly the host arose a cour 
 teous and dignified old man, with head whitened, and forehead furrowed 
 by the sufferings of himself and his family, in the Hungarian cause, and 
 proposed the health of their American guest, and accompanied it with 
 a speech ; I cannot remember it exactly, but he spoke in deep, feeling 
 tones of the degradation of their country of how much they had hoped 
 for her, and how much was lost of the gloomy future for them and their 
 children, for years to come. Then he alluded to the exiles Sir, said he, 
 when our countrymen were beggared and homeless, you Americans shel 
 tered them you have opened your houses to them you have given them 
 money and land and most of all, you have remembered that they were 
 sufferers in the same cause with you you have given them your sympathy. 
 May God bless you and your country for this ! I am but an humble Hun 
 garian, but tell your countrymen from me, that if there is any man in this 
 land who will not open his hearth and home, and all he has to the Amer 
 ican stranger, he is not worthy to be called a Hungarian ! 
 
 It was the very company which you would expect not to show any sigr>g 
 of feeling ; pclite, accomplished, nearly all people of the world. Yet, wheth 
 er it was the appearance and tones of the old man, which seemed to speak 
 of the nameless sufferings that had beaten over him ; or whether it was the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 543 
 
 thought of the unhappy fortunes of their country and of the homeless exiles, 
 I could not avoid noticing, in the solemn stillness after the speech, that tears 
 were coursing down many a cheek. When would ever an Anglo-Saxon 
 dinner-party, gentle or simple, allow itself to be caught away into such an 
 indulgence of feeling?" 
 
 On another occasion, while examining the buildings of the university at 
 Debreczin in Inner Hungary, he was invited into one of the halls where tho 
 students were about to sing some national songs. The enthusiasm with 
 which he was received must have been exceedingly gratifying to him, es 
 pecially as he had but recently graduated at one of our universities Yale. 
 But hera is his story: 
 
 "I followed them, and quite unexpectedly found myself in a large con- 
 eert-hall, before a crowd of people, who welcomed me with an Eljen I 
 [hurrah!] which made the walls ring again. At the other end of the room 
 was a full choir of students. It appeared my friends wished to give me a 
 little pleasant surprise, and had prepared this concert of the Hungarian 
 music for the purpose. The choir, composed of men and boys, was remark 
 ably well trained ; and they evidently sang with an excitement and inter 
 est unusual. 
 
 The songs were mostly of Hungary her beauty and glory, their love and 
 devotion to her, and, with the plaintive tone, peculiar to Hungarian music, 
 seemed darkly forboding future calamity to her. Without, doubt, the pres 
 ence of one from that nation who had welcomed the Hungarian exiles, and 
 had alone sympathized with her cause, gave a reality to their expressions of 
 feeling, which nothing otherwise could. - And, as the deep voices swelled 
 and thrilled over the words which spoke of their beautiful Fatherland, 
 their love unquenchable for her, their hopes with her to die, 1 could 
 scarcely restrain my tears. I seemed to be listening to the Jews singing the 
 acngs of Zion in a strange land. And at length as the chorus cf their fa 
 vorite song, 
 
 Zu deinem Vaterland blcib To thy country remain 
 
 Unerschutterlich treu! Unshakingly true ! 
 
 
 
 arose, and swelled, and was echoed again and again, with passionate tone 
 and tearful eye, from every man and child in the room, it seemed to mo 
 that they, in this time of their country s gloom and misfortune, were send 
 ing forth by the stranger, to other lands, their vows of unshaken fidelity 
 and love. 
 
 Nearly all the Hungarian airs open in a low, plaintive measure, and grad 
 ually increase in force and wildness as they go on. This plaintive tone 
 through nearly all the Hungarian music, and even in the sound of the lan 
 guage, as it first strikes upon the ear of the stranger, is very remarkable. I 
 have often sat listening in the drawing-rooms, to the songs or the conversa 
 tion, and wondered whether there was not something ominous prophetic 
 of tho future of the nation, in this tone of sadness so peculiar to the Hun 
 garian. It is very strange and interesting to the traveler, everywhere in 
 Hungary, to observe how these national songs are remembered and sung 
 In many places they are forbidden, but the people will sing them. I re 
 member that in one family I heard a young lady sing one of these songg 
 
544 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 with such an extreme enthusiasm, that I had apprehensions for a little while 
 she was becoming insane. 
 
 Among the airs which I heard at this concert, some of the best wera 
 connected with the most unmeaning words. There is one celebrated air, 
 with a singularly beautiful though somewhat monotonous refrain, beginning 
 
 Hortobagy puzta 
 where the only idea which I could find conveyed was 
 
 Over the prairie 
 Over the prairie 
 
 Blows the wind I 
 
 The life on the puztas, or prairies, and the adventures and loves of the 
 Csikosses, or half-wild cattle-drivers upon them, seemed to form one of the 
 most favorite themes in these airs. 
 
 After the concert was over, I expressed my thanks, and turned to go out, 
 when I found a long lane opened in the crowd, through which I passed, un 
 der vociferous JEIjens, looking as meekly as a modest man could at such an 
 unexpected reception." 
 
 In another place he says, 
 
 "I had received a beautiful note in English from a lady this morning, re 
 questing me to call upon her, as she wished to know one of that noble 
 nation who sheltered the exiles from Hungary. I called and she addressed 
 me at once in English. In the course of the conversation, with character 
 istic Hungarian eloquence of tone she burst forth, Did you know it, sir ? 
 We meant to have a republic like yours. Gorgey was our Arnold. If it 
 had not been for him, we should havo been free. 0, if you could have 
 seen our armies as they marched through here ! How proud they were, 
 how hopeful and strong ! And now they are gone ! But they -\vere ready, 
 and no one feared to die for his country. And to think it was all for 
 nothing ! " 
 
 The intense manner in which this lady expressed herself indicated but 
 the depth of the national depression at their great misfortune.. It was 
 shown in various ways. 
 
 "I have been in," says Mr. Brace, "a most sensible and cultivated family, 
 where all the ladies were dressed in black for their country, and where they 
 wore small iron bracelets almost as heavy as handcuffs on their wrists, in 
 memory of the solitary prisoners of Arad and Temeswer. I have seen, too, 
 often in Hungary, bits of the BROOMS with which Haynau was beaten, 
 brought over by some one, put up in handsome gold settings, and worn as 
 pins by the ladies ! And there is scarcely a family in the country without 
 the little bracelets worked by the Hungarian prisoners, and marked with the 
 first letters of the names of the Generals who were executed by the Aus- 
 trians, in this way P. V. D. T. N. A. K. L. S. which can also be read, 
 Panonnia Vergisst Deinen Tod Nie; Ah Klager Lelen Sie! (Hungary for 
 gets thy death never ! As accusers they shall live !) It is a penal offense, 
 by the way, wearing these now. It would be difficult for any one of the 
 cool Anglo-Saxon blood to credit the instances I met with constantly hero 
 of this intensity of feeling, on political matters. It is well known that a* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 545 
 
 the treacherous surrender at Vilagos, many of the private soldiers shot them 
 selves through the brain in the bitterness of their despair. The number 
 of casas of insanity after the Austrian victory, beginning with that of ono 
 of their most lamented and distinguished leaders, .would be incredible. 
 The almost dramatic coolness and bravery with which the Hungarians died 
 oc the scaffold and the gallows, after this late Revolution, would hardly bo 
 credible. There were saveral instances of insanity previous to the execu 
 tion, but not a solitary one of fear during them. Many went forth before 
 the file of soldiers, with a cigar in their mouth. One of the bravest of 
 the thirteen generals shot at Arad, was reserved to the last, while, the 
 others were executed. / was always first in the attack? said he, why am 
 Hast here? " . 
 
 Without further preliminaries we pass over to the circumstances of the 
 arrest and imprisonment of Mr. Brace. This occurred at the city of Gros 
 Wardein, one of the great military stations for the Austrians in Hungary. 
 On the day of his arrival he was taking dinner with a friend in the dining 
 room of a hotel, when the latter, perhaps to show that he had an American 
 as an acquaintance, asked Mr. Brace about Ujhazy s Hungarian colony in 
 Iowa. The latter answered in a general way, and rather avoided conver 
 sation from a kind of mistrust of two men who sat at the table. The next 
 day, in the midst of a pleasant conversation at a dinner party, he was inter 
 rupted by the entrance of a little gentleman in black followed by a gem 
 d arme. The small gentleman announced himself as the " Chief of Police," 
 with a warrant for his arrest, and the examination of his papers, on the 
 charge of his having "Proclamations!" 
 
 The gens d arme first took him to the house of the friend with whom ho 
 was stopping, where he found a sentinel already stationed, and all his 
 writing and books collected for the examination of the police. From the 
 gens d arme he learned that a warrant had been issued for him within six 
 hours of his arrival, and that he had been searching for him from that time. 
 The soldier finally drove him to an old castle outside of the city, used as a 
 j.iison. 
 
 "As we rode through the heavy old arched gateway," says Mr. Brace, 
 "into the court within, I looked around curiously at the grim walls, and 
 could not but feel a momentary heart-sinking, when I remembered how far 
 I was from friend or aid, and how many a hopeful man had entered such 
 a prison in the Austrian states, never to come forth again." 
 
 On his entrance the officer asked, why he was there. "I have not the 
 slightest idea," he replied. " I suppose because I am an American." The 
 officer then thoroughly searched him, taking from him all his money, every 
 scrap of paper, and leaving him only his watch and toothpick, and then ho 
 was conducted to a miserably lighted, dirty cell, in which was a common 
 Honved, convicted of carrying a false pass, and a tailor imprisoned for pos 
 sessing a concealed weapon. To his remonstrance against such quarters, 
 the officer replied that it was according to orders, and that it would be " a 
 par; of his experience as a traveler," and then bade him Gate Nacht! 
 
 In a few moments a friendly voice called through the key-hole of the ad 
 joining room, begging him, "not to be Hue, for it was always hard at first." 
 Mr. Brace slept Little that night. At one time he thought it all a mis- 
 
546 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 take, and that he should be released the next day ; then again, it seemed to 
 him as if there was a deliberate intention to treat him as a common crim 
 inal and he felt how completely he was in their power. His great con 
 solation WAS that not the slightest word or writing of a treasonable character 
 could be brought against him. The next day he was conducted by two 
 soldiers with fixed bayonets to a court in the room below, comprising r our 
 military officers and a clerk, with eight soldiers as a guard. He was greeted 
 politely, and a sharp, keen-eyed man "commenced the examination in the 
 bland way peculiar to Austrian officers ; " and we add, so peculiar to crafty 
 men the world over. He was first asked his name, that of his father, hia 
 profession, birth-place, etc. Connecticut, the name of his native state, oc 
 casioned some delay to the clerk in writing. To the inquiry, " what are youi 
 objects in Hungary ? " he frankly replied, " as a traveler to study the char 
 acter and manners of the people, and to investigate the old political institu 
 tions of the country." But he found that he had erred in his candor, that 
 he was in the presence of a heartless inquisitor who was determined to con 
 vict him of crime. "We do not believe you," said he, "we know the sym 
 pathy of the Americans with the revolutionists here. You are the first that 
 has ever been in the land. We can prove that you are in a wide conspir 
 acy. We understand this route of travel and these many acquaintances. 
 There is a wide complot here. I have been accustomed to trace plots for 
 many years. I see your object. Speak out plainly and confess ! " Mr. 
 Brace was startled at such a perversion of justice; but, putting on an indif 
 ferent face, he replied he did not believe he had any such proofs, and that 
 he did not recollect a single acquaintance who had a relation in America. 
 
 Questions of the most searching kind were put to him as to his acquaint 
 ance with the Hungarian emigrants. Luckily the name of Gen, Csetz was 
 the only one of importance he recollected. He had met him at Hamburg, 
 where he gave him a note of introduction to a friend in Hungary, a govern 
 ment officer, which, although it simply said, " the Herr Von Csetz intro 
 duces Mr. Brace to his friend Mr. S. of Pesth," was pounced upon b} T the ex 
 amining Major or Auditor with the greatest avidity, who asserted that some 
 plot was hidden under this introduction, and tftat his only hope was in con 
 fession. Mr. Brace smiled at this perversion ; but^ he was far from easy. 
 He felt as if he was getting entangled in meshes frcm which he could not 
 escape, that the auditor might have suborned witnesses against him, and he 
 remembered how utterly helpless he was. The memory of all the terrible 
 stories he had read of Spanish Inquisitions came over him, but it was only 
 for a moment, and he prepared to meet the examination carefully and man 
 fully. 
 
 It appeared that he had seen Ujhazy in the streets of New York, and al 
 though he had never spoken to him, the auditor returned to the subject 
 again and again, urging him to speak out, openly and frankly. " What is 
 your agreement with Ujhazy, and where are your letters from him ?" The 
 auditor would take no denial, until Mr. Brace closed the subject by a con 
 tinued reiteration, asked him for his proofs, and ended by declaring, " if he 
 knew him, and every Hungarian emigrant in America, it was no evidence of 
 conspiracy." 
 
 In Mr. Brace s luggage was found a pamphlet printed in 1848, called 
 
OF AMERICANS. 547 
 
 " Hungary s Good Right," at the end of which was a line in Latin" 0, ye 
 who have too sorely suffered, God shall at length bring an end to this, too ! " 
 
 " Over this the auditor declaimed with great vehemence. This pamphlet 
 showed my cursed revolutionary sentiments. These are the things which 
 you scatter among the people. Look at this line, sir ! God will end the 
 sufferings of the Hungarians ! What does that mean ? God will bring aid 
 perhaps from others ! 
 
 I smiled at such a storm over a quotation, and told him I had never ob 
 served the line before. He would notice it was not in my handwriting. 
 Still I could not see anything very treasonable in it. 
 
 It proves nothing. I have been collecting documents from all sides, and 
 this is one. I can prove from Vienna, that when there, I read works on the 
 other side. Besides, even if it showed my political sentiments, it does not 
 at all prove I am in a revolutionary complot. And furthermore, old revolu 
 tionary pamphlets, which no one reads now except the historical investiga 
 tor, are the very last things an emissary would carry about with him. If it 
 was a modern, exciting brochure, or a proclamation, it would be different ; 
 but this! 
 
 1 The reading works on the other side was only natural in an educated, 
 man, said he. 
 
 I then ventured to ask, * What would not be suspicious in an American in 
 the view of the Austrian authorities ? It was suspicious to visit men of 
 the Hungarian party, and only a sham to visit those of the other. It was 
 revolutionary if one read books on one side, and proved nothing good if 
 one read them on the other. 
 
 I 1 am not here to argue, was the reply." 
 
 Even the slightest thing which the auditor could find to make out a case 
 against him was eagerly grasped at, and the bland manner of the man 
 changed at the self-possession and spirit manifested by the replies of our 
 young countryman. At one moment foe bullied, at another perverted his 
 language, then drew him out in hopes that he might in some way fasten a 
 conspiracy upon him. 
 
 The examination lasted six hours, at the close of which the auditor read 
 the accusation against him, nearly in these words : 
 
 " You are a member of the Democratic Verein (Union), and employed by 
 the Committee, and an agent of Ujhazy and Csetz, here in Hungary, for 
 the purpose of spreading Revolutionary movements ! " 
 
 " As it appeared later, the only possible evidence which they had for this 
 charge, besides what is mentioned above, were the words I had uttered in 
 the hotel. The two men opposite us at table were members of the secret 
 police, and had reported immediately that there was an American in the 
 city who spoke as if acquainted with Ujhazy. 
 
 After the charge was read, I was conducted back to my prison-room, by 
 the provost and two soldiers, and as he passed through the first cell I heard 
 the prisoners ask him, Will he be imprisoned f Ganz bestiment ! ( Without 
 a doubt ) was the reply. With this consolation was I locked in for the 
 second night. 
 
 In an Austrian prison and almost sentenced ! I threw myself on the 
 dirty bed, and could scarcely believe it all real. It half seemed as if it 
 35 
 
54:8 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 must be a dream. It all looked hopeless enough. I knew they would bo 
 very glad to sentence an American. And who could ever know or hear 
 of my being there ? It came over me as if all I had ever heard or read of 
 these Austrian dungeons and secret inquisitions was true and true for me. 
 Perhaps my LIFE all that I had wished and hoped for all that I had 
 been preparing for was to end here, to close in this mean, miserable way. 
 I might die openly without much fear but to be stifled in a dark hole in 
 this manner ! I thought, too, of a long imprisonment that I should ba 
 rotting here the best years of my life. And there came over me a picture 
 of myself returning home, rheumatic, broken in health those I loved, 
 dead, and all I knew, forgetting me, and all my plans for life, utterly ruined. 
 Then it seemed to me my reason would not bear this, and I remembered 
 the young Hungarian, who had come out from this very prison after threo 
 years, a lunatic, and I felt sure one year would do the same for me. 
 
 In the midst of my reflections a voice called me to the key-hole of tho 
 next room the same friendly voice which I had heard on my first night. 
 
 Friend ! Are you gloomy ? 
 
 No, said I, not at all. 
 
 How does it stand with your case ? 
 
 Bad though it is all suspicion no proofs ! 
 
 Friend, do you not know the House of Austria needs no proof? Sus 
 picion is enough ! 
 
 After some further ta;k, I laid myself down again to try to sleep. A 
 deep, burning sense of indignation at such injustice settled upon me. The 
 noble sympathies of my countrymen were to be revenged so meanly on me ! 
 This was Austrian reprisal ! I felt glad within me that, if I must suffer, 
 I could suffer for such reasons. And I was strong in the consciousness of 
 the sympathy of a great nation if any act of injustice or violence should be 
 performed against me. There arose, too, as is natural under such an unpro 
 voked wrong, a dogged determination to resist and, whatever came, to fight 
 out the matter step by step. And why should I hesitate to say, that the 
 trust in ONE above courts and nations, and*above this oppression of men, 
 grew that night more calm and strong within me. Though I had not slept 
 a moment, the morning s light seemed to bring hope again, and I rose the 
 next day quite cheerfully." 
 
 Mr. Brace saw that his only hope for liberation was in sending news of 
 his arrest to our Embassy at Vienna, so he managed to bribe a servant to 
 bring him paper and ink, and hs wrote two letters one to a friend in Hun 
 gary, under a disguised name, and the other to Mr. Schwarz, our consul in 
 Vienna, giving the full particulars, and calling for aid. He did not dare to 
 write to Mr. McCurdy, our minister at the Austrian court, fearing that his 
 name would attract suspicion. These letters he sent out to be posted by a 
 discharged prisoner who concealed them in the lining of his boots. Not 
 thinking this enough, he got another prisoner who was about to be liberated 
 interested, who promised to do all he could for him in Vienna. He was a 
 Catholic priest, a whole-souled fellow, who enlivened the whole prison by 
 hifl merriment. Says Brace, 
 
 " Ho was too old a bird, however, to take any papers from me, for, of 
 course, as all the others, he believed I was deeply in, some affair. Ho 
 
OF AMERICANS. 549 
 
 said he had been searched twenty-five times for revolutionary papers, and 
 he should be cautious how he risked anything again. I gave him McCur- 
 dy s name and address, and he wrote them backward, and in cypher, in his 
 note-book. The way in which he kept up the conversation with me was 
 characteristic. As we stood in the hall, in the morning, he would walk 
 about piously reading from his prayer-book, and every time he passed me 
 What did you say is his name ? (in louder tones from the book), Oh , 
 Maria beatisst me ! 
 
 Then again, as he came back, Ora pro nobis ! Mac Curdy, did you say ? 
 Oh Iwldseliyste! segn et uns ! Oh sanctissime, " ect. 
 
 In a few days Brace was allowed to walk out for an hour in the day with 
 other prisoners. Many a curious look was fixed upon him from every part 
 of the barracks as the American shut up there in that distant prison. 
 
 "I often," said he, "used to slip by the sentinel, and go to one window 
 which but few knew of. It commanded a view of the windows of a fellow- 
 prisoner whose fate deeply interested me. The unfortunate was a young 
 lady a countess from one of the first families in Hungary, a family long 
 distinguished in its history, the TELEKI. She had been arrested a short 
 time before I was, on a similar charge, of being in correspondence with the 
 Hungarian Emigration, and beside with Mazzini. The arrest had made 
 reat noise in Hungaiy, and I had often heard of it. How little I had ever 
 thought of sharing the same prison with her ! One of her friends supposed 
 we were in the same conspiracy, and had told me of this window. I made 
 many attempts to communicate with her, hoping to be able to assist her 
 v/hen without ; but, somehow, I could never eatch her eye. She used often 
 to come to the window, to tend the few plants she had there, or to gaze 
 longingly out on the distant landscapes. Poor lady ! It seemed to me 
 she ^rew paler every day. It was very sad ; so young arid beautiful with 
 wonderful accomplishments, and a noble heart to spend her fresh, young 
 years in that heart-crushing place ! At first, she used to have a lively, 
 young girl running by her side a maid-servant of extraordinary genius, 
 and accused of being engaged in the same plot with herself, though only 
 twelve years old! But afterward, with a truly Austrian refinement of cru 
 elty, they were separated, and the child was confined by herself in the city. 
 The auditor said of the little girl, after the trial, It is korrille ! Sie est 
 verdorben vom grand und boden ! She is contaminated from the very root and 
 core / Or, in other words, young as she was, she was a thorough republican 
 and a downright hater of tyranny. I had good information of what was 
 going on, and I learned that the defense of the countess on her trial was 
 most heroic and patriotic. She met the abuse and cunning of the auditor, 
 with a spirit and dignity which even abashed him. And I know that in 
 private she expressed herself ready to go through with any length of im 
 prisonment if she could only help her unhappy country. Whether she 
 was guilty or not, I do not know ; but from my own experience of Austrian 
 courts, I should think it not in the least improbable she was another victim 
 tc their infernal system. She often inquired after the fate of the American 
 so strangely arrested in the midst of Hungary ; but we never succeeded in 
 changing a word." She was afterward sentenced by court-martial to 
 twenty years imprisonment. 
 
550 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 The examination of Mr. Brace was continued at intervals. "It is diffi 
 cult," says he, " to convey the Inquisition-like tone of them all the petty 
 tricks, the attempts to entangle, the means used to force a confession. For 
 instance, one morning as I entered the court-room, the auditor turned ever 
 my papers in a careless way, and asked, half unconsciously, " Where is that 
 letter from Uj hazy ?" I rose up in indignation at such a mean device i 
 Sir, you know that I have told you again and again, I have no acquaintanoa 
 with Ujhazy ! Oh, I beg your pardon, I mean that letter from Czetz. M 
 
 When his last trial came on, they asked him if he had anything to urge. 
 The remarks which he then made, he thought undoubtedly injured him 
 more than anything else in the trial. Still they were not uttered without 
 consideration. In his narrative, he says, "Thus far, I had answered their 
 accusations point by point, not going into anything irrelevant, and avoiding 
 carefully all personalities, so that their case might stand as bad as possible 
 before the world. But through it all, without our directly saying anything 
 about it, there was underlying always a reference to the two different prin 
 ciples of government. They had caught a republican in the midst of 
 Hungary. They suspect him of trying to diffuse republican sentiments 
 though they accuse him of offenses against their laws. He defends himself 
 on their own grounds, and shows his innocence. This, legally, was enough. 
 But I could not think it worthy of a man, or of the great principles which 
 I, as one individual of our nation, might represent to leave the case so. I 
 was here, indeed, alone, and in their power, but I could not slip out, with 
 out one word before this dark and secret tribunal, for that cause which they 
 had so constantly sneered at in this trial, and which is to me, if I know 
 myself, more than life. 
 
 Sir, said I, the question thus far, in this trial, has not been what my 
 personal political feelings are, but what these writings, found upon me 
 prove. On this ground I have answered and defended myself. But I cannot 
 let this trial be terminated without declaring before this court, what my 
 political sentiments are. I am from heart and soul a republican an 
 American and I have been in no land in which I have not been proud of 
 those names ! We have seen in our country the wonderful results of self- 
 government, and I would here, as everywhere, confess myself most heartily 
 and fully to that principle. At the same time, I wish you to remember our 
 countrymen never feel themselves compelled to swear to a revolution 
 because it is a revolution. They must know first that it seeks for right, and 
 justice, and true equality. Although holding these republican views, it is 
 due to myself to say that never, since I have been in Austria, have I ex 
 pressed them in public, and not often in private. . . . My actions have 
 been open and public never in any degree like those of a conspirator or 
 emissary. I have visited many public men of different parties, and have 
 been in public places often. Yet, with all this, while observing every law 
 of your country, I have been arrested, and . 
 
 Altogether superfluous, sir! Altogether irrelevant! interrupted the 
 auditor, with a disturbed shrug of his shoulders and rising indignantly 
 You have said quite enough, sir! We see what you are! looking at tha 
 president. Strange that he should have been admitted into the country ! 
 
 Very ptrange ! said the president, frowning angrily. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 551 
 
 At length, after some three weeks of this, I was summoned one day 
 before the court, and the auditor met me, with his most conciliating manner, 
 and said, I have good news for you ! handing me a letter from Mr. 
 M Curdy. I was obliged to break the seal before the court, and allow them 
 to read it first. But as it was English, and the president only knew a few 
 words, they at length permitted me to read it aloud in German, before the 
 court, which I did with great gusto ! 
 
 If any one of my readers will imagine himself shut up for weeks in a 
 remote, foreign prison, not knowing, all the while, whether he was to be 
 imprisoned for life, or to be summarily shot by a drumhead court-martial 
 treated throughout like a worthless criminal, then if he will suppose himself 
 suddenly receiving a letter from the representative of a mighty nation, the 
 only man who possibly could help him a letter at once friendly, and bold, 
 and manly he will get some faint idea of my feelings, as I read Mr. 
 M Curdy s letter to the court on this occasion. I felt safe again. I felt 
 that the representative of twenty-five millions of men was speaking for me, 
 and in a way which must be heard. 
 
 The letter had been detained some ten days after the time in which it 
 ought to have reached me. It began with an account of his proceedings in 
 my behalf. As soon as he had heard of the event, he applied directly, by 
 letter, to Prince Schwarzenberg, and then personally enforced his demand for 
 my immediate release. He had received favorable assurances, and should not 
 intermit a moment his efforts, etc. Then followed this passage, which it was a 
 great satisfaction to read to the man who had treated me as an impostor, and 
 bullied me so long; As I am perfectly convinced you can have been guilty 
 of no offense, and as the Austrian government can have no motive or incli 
 nation to create a hostile feeling on the part of ours, I expect your imme 
 diate release. And then, after some further friendly words, the closing 
 passage : Every motive friendship for you, respect for your family, a 
 regard for tlie rights and lionors of oar country, impel me to spare no efforts in 
 your behalf. 
 
 The auditor looked positively uncomfortable as I read out that last, with 
 all proper emphasis. It had begun to enter his head that shutting up an 
 American citizen for a month in an Austrian dungeon, on suspicion, might 
 not be considered at all as a trifling matter by the American people. 
 
 When I came up-stairs again, a crowd of the prisoners gathered eagerly 
 around me, and I read the letter in full to them. They could not restrain 
 their delight, and at the close there was an enthusiastic Eljen M Curdy ! 
 which made the old walls ring again." 
 
 "From the extraordinary sympathy," continues Mr. Brace, "in the town, 
 and among all the Hungarians for my case, I obtained very good information 
 of all their measures. I knew that they were alarmed at certain proceedings 
 (I supposed, of Mr. M Curdy), in Vienna, and that their great object was to 
 fix something upon me, so that they could still hold me. There was a 
 report for a time among the prisoners that they would use violence, in order 
 to get rid of my troublesome testimony afterward. I never credited it, 
 nowever. I knew that the murder of an American citizen, under such cir 
 cumstances, would be the signal of a storm, which would scatter this hoary 
 
552 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 old monarchy of oppression to the winds. And they must be clear-sighted 
 enough to see it." 
 
 After this he found himself better treated. Thirty days had passed in 
 prison, when one afternoon he was summoned before the court, but this 
 time without a soldier. This he understood at once, and as he entered th.3 
 officers rose, bowed, and then announced that he was free. He went back 
 to the prison to bid farewell to his fellow prisoners, most of whom were 
 confined for rebellious acts against Austria. "Tell our countrymen," said 
 one, " wherever you meet them, in your fatherland or in Europe, that we 
 are waiting for them ! They are the happy ones ! They are free ! We, 
 in the prisons, or anywnere in this land, are tJie slaves! But tell them 
 never to forget their country ! " Then with a regret which he had never 
 expected to feel at leaving a Hungarian prison, they embraced each other. 
 
 Among these was a Protestant clergyman from the neighborhood, an 
 eloquent preacher a "senior" who had presided over some twenty 
 churches. He was a man of remarkable natural dignity. Like the clergy 
 man in our revolution, he had preached against the tyranny of the Austrian 
 government, and when words were of no more avail, he had joined the 
 ranks as a common soldier. The Austrians had sentenced him to the 
 gallows, but the sentence was not, for some unknown reason, executed. He 
 had talked much with Mr. Brace about America, and had declared that if 
 he should be freed he never would remain in Hungary. He never could 
 live in a land where he would be a slave ; but he would go to America, 
 where he should be happy, and health} , and could work in the ground 
 again. "Though a man unaccustomed," says Mr. Brace, " to express his feel 
 ings, he threw his arms around my neck, and kissed me repeatedly ; his firm 
 face working in uncontrollable emotion. Poor man ! I know how he felt. 
 It was like a glimpse for a moment of the free land, which he had dreamed 
 of, for Hungary and himself, and then all to be darkness again." 
 
 Mr. Brace subsequently ascertained that the orders for his arrest had come 
 from Vienna, and it could only be explained as a reprisal for American 
 sympathy for Hungary, or as the usual Austrian suspicion of an American. 
 The testimony showed that it did not arise from any proceedings of hia 
 within Hungary, for his most suspicious acts in the country, his visits to 
 certain disaffected villages were unknown to the Austrian Court. 
 
 Mr. Brace was placed in charge of a military officer and conducted to 
 Pesth, the capital of the country, a few hours travel from Vienna, whither 
 he started with his own passport, lie called on Mr. M Curdy as soon as 
 possible, for fear he might fall into the hands of another of their courts, and 
 nobody be the wiser for it. 
 
 " I need not say," says he, "that my meeting with Mr. M Curdy was 
 most joyful. We had of course much to review and examine in the case. 
 When this correspondence is finally published, I am very much mistaken if 
 Mr. M Curdy s notes, so spirited and vigorous, do not contrast very favor 
 ably with the long-winded, indefinite epistles of the Austrians. They are 
 words strong and direct, and are worthy of a representative of America. 
 That I owe everything to him, in this affair, I need not say. If he had not 
 been a genuine man, and had not dared to address the Austrian Cabinet as 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 the representative of the United States should address it, I should have 
 been still in Austrian dungeons, or have been shot before now as a spy. 
 However, it is probable, all demands for my release might have been in 
 effectual, if it had not been for the accidental presence of two American 
 ships of war in Trieste, just at the time of this correspondence an entirely 
 chance-event, but which gave a peculiar edge to Mr. M Curdy s words." 
 
 He had scarce returned from his visit, when he was summoned before the 
 police, and, in a half-sneaking manner, told that he "must leave the 
 Austrian territory within three days." In this difficulty he called upon 
 Mr. M Curdy, who wrote one of his brief, pointed notes to the ministry, 
 stating that Mr. Brace had returned here acquitted of the charges, and ex 
 pected at least courtesy after such treatment, and inquiring " if anythin| 
 new had occurred to cause this order, or whether it was a part of the previous 
 proceedings." " This was," says Mr. Brace, "somewhat of a dilemma fo" 
 them, and they dropped the matter, and I remained in Vienna. I had no 
 permission to remain, and I knew I was everywhere a suspected man the 
 more dangerous, because I had been unjustly treated by their courts. Yet 
 I walked around, feeling that the strong arm of the United States was 
 around me. Still, very grand and consoling as the feeling is, it becomes 
 rather uncomfortable when it is continued too long. One has a sensation as 
 of walking around in a highly gallant manner among pit-falls. It seemed 
 to me every man I met knew I had been a convict ; and that every gendarme 
 eyed me longingly, as if he should soon have his warrant for me. Besides 
 I could see in reality that each step of mine was watched, and I began to 
 grow tired of such unceasing paternal attention from the Viennese authorities. 
 A vague fear, too, never left me that I had not seen the end of this that I 
 should never entirely escape ! Mr. M Curdy used to congratulate me 
 every morning when he met me, that "my head was still safe where it 
 should be ! " 
 
 I found that all my acquaintances in Vienna had been examined before 
 the Police Courts, as to my objects and character. My few liberal acquaint 
 ances I feared to compromise, by visiting, and only allowed myself to call 
 upon one gentleman in the late evening. He received me, as if from tha 
 dead turned pale, led me hurriedly through half a dozen rooms, into a 
 boudoir, double-locked the door, listened at the key-hole, embraced me, 
 and then demanded an account of my affair. I gave it in full, he interlard 
 ing it every now and then with " Ach Qott I SchrecJchch ! (Horrible)," and 
 "Schandlich! (shameful!)" etc. Occasionally, too, shaking my hand, to 
 assure himself of my identity. 
 
 After holding this out eight days, I concluded to bid "good-bye," for aye 
 to Austria, provided the police would let me go. I made my parting visits, 
 arranging everything with Mr. M Curdy, so that he would know, at once, if 
 Anything of a serious nature happened to me on the Danube, and started off 
 Ihe next morning in the steamboat with a fear of secret, sudden violence, 
 which never left me while under the power of the Austrian police. At 
 Linz, I was obliged to wait a day for my passport, and there, of course, was 
 brought under the annoying police inspection again. I then went on broad 
 the boat, received my pass, and began to hope I was escaping all farther 
 difficulties. I took my seat in the cabin, as it was raining hard, and waa 
 
554 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 amusing myself with observing the various passengers who collect on a 
 Danube boat, when I became gradually conscious that a man on the opposite 
 side was watching me closely. He sat somewhat retired in a corner, but 
 yet his eyes would find their way, all the while, toward me, though when 
 I looked at him, he appeared occupied in something else. He was dressed 
 in a half-military green suit, and I concluded, was very probably some ageLt 
 of the police. I resolved to be on my guard toward him. 
 
 When we reached the station, on the Austrian frontier, I jumped ashoro 
 to get something to eat, and had not made a dozen steps when I felt somo 
 one touch me on the shoulder. I turned and saw what I had fully ex 
 pected ray man in the green suit. I had become, by this time, quite 
 used to these gentry, and demanded, abruptly, " What lie wanted ?" . " You 
 will come with me to the police office." 
 
 Wliy /Who are you ? " 
 
 The captain of the boat came up at this moment, and explained that the 
 gentleman was an " agent" from Vienna, and we all went together to the office. 
 
 The commissary asked me why I was there. " I am an American, and a 
 Republican ! " said I. " That is reason enough. Suspicion ! suspicion is 
 the rule in Austria!" He shrugged his shoulders, took down a minute 
 description of me, vised the passport, wished us " good-morning," and I was 
 handed over into Bavaria ! 
 
 I returned to the boat, and, in a few minutes, with a feeling of relief and 
 security, which I had not had for months before, saw the well-known 
 monument which marks the Austrian borders grow dim in the distance." 
 The reader will find Mr. Brace again referred to on page 572 of this 
 work. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN CHEVALIER HULSEMANN, THE AUSTRIAN MINISTER, 
 AND DANIEL WEBSTER, SECRETARY OF STATE, UPON AMERICAN INTERFERENCK 
 IN THE AFFAIRS OF HUNGARY. 
 
 The Hungarian War for Independence commenced in September, 1848, 
 by the invasion of Hungary by Jellachich. He was summarily driven out 
 by the peopK A mouth later, a second Austrian army entered the country, 
 under Windischgratz. On the 14th of the succeeding April (1849), the 
 Declaration of Hungarian Independence was promulgated, and at the closo 
 of that month, the Austrians were the second time expelled from Hungary, 
 so that the contest between Hungary and Austria, by itself, was settled. Of 
 the one hundred and twenty thousand troops that had invaded the country, 
 one half had been killed, disabled, or taken prisoners. At this juncture the 
 Imperial Government called in the aid of Russia, and with this immense 
 weight thrown into the scale, the eventual issue could not be longer doubt 
 ful. It was hastened by the treachery of Gorgey, who surrendered to the 
 Russians, on the 13th of August, 1849. 
 
 While the contest was progressing, President Taylor dispatched A. Dud 
 ley Mann to Vienna, as special agent, with instructions to watch the pro 
 gress of the movement, and in caso of its success, to recognize, on the jjart 
 of our government, the Republic of Hungary. Any such action was preven 
 ted by the overthrow of the Hungarian cause ; but the Austrian charge at 
 Washington, the Chevalier J. G. llulsemann took occasion of the commu- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 555 
 
 nication to the senate of the instructions given to Mr. Mann, to enter in the 
 name of his government a formal protest against the procedure of the 
 United States, as an unwarrantable interference in the affairs of a friendly 
 power ; and as a breach of propriety in national intercourse, jeopardizing the 
 amity between the two countries. He took especial exception to the 
 expression " iron rule," said to be applied to the government of Austria, 
 to the designation of " Kossuth, as an illustrious man," and to "im 
 proper expressions" in regard to Kussia, "the intimate and faithful ally 
 of Austria." He said that Mr. Mann had been placed in a position which 
 rendered him liable to the treatment of a spy.; and concluded by hinting 
 that the United States were not free from the danger of civil war, and were 
 liable to acts of retaliation. 
 
 The reply of Mr. Webster produced the most lively sensation of delight 
 throughout the whole country, as a masterly answer to the allegations of thia 
 agent of Austrian despotism, and as an exposition of American sympathy 
 in behalf of a gallant people in their struggle for liberty. The comparison 
 of Austria with America in which the possessions of the house of Hapsburg 
 are likened to a mere "patch on the earth s surface " beside those of tho 
 United States, touched a chord in our national pride that vibrates in tho 
 memory to this day. The keen irony with which Mr. Webster congratulates 
 the chevalier upon the liberal principles "recently introduced into the con 
 stitution of ths Austrian Empire," forms an interesting point in this cele 
 brated epistle, The letter we give entire. 
 
 The Secretary of State to Mr. Hulsemann. 
 
 Department of State, Washington, Decemoer 21, 1850 
 
 The undersigned, Secretary of State of the United States, had the honor 
 to receive, some time ago, the note of Mr. Hulsemann, Charge d Afi aires of 
 his Majesty, the Emperor of Austria, of the 30th of September. Causes, 
 not arising from any want of personal regard for Mr. Hulsemann, or of pro 
 per respect for his government, having delayed an answer until the present 
 moment. Having submitted Mr. Hiilsemann s letter to the President, the 
 undersigned is now directed by him to return the following reply. 
 
 The objects of Mr. Hiilsemann s note are first, to protest, by order of his 
 government, against the steps taken by the late President of the United 
 States to ascertain the progress and probable result of the revolutionary 
 movements in Hungary ; and, secondly, to complain of some expressions in 
 the instructions of the late Secretary of State to Mr. A. Dudley Mann, a 
 confidential agent of the United States, as communicated by President 
 Taylor to the Senate on the 28th of March last. 
 
 The principal ground of protest is founded on the idea, or in the allega 
 tion, that the goverment of the United States, by the mission of Mr. Mann 
 and his instructions, has interfered in the domestic affairs of Austria in a 
 manner unjust or disrespectful toward that power. The President s message 
 was a communication made by him to the Senate, transmitting a correspon 
 dence between the executive government and a confidential agent of its 
 own, This would seem to be itself a domestic transaction, a mere instance 
 of intercourse between the President and the Senate, in a manner which it 
 usual and indispensable in communications between the different branche* 
 
556 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 of the government. It was not addressed either to Austria or Hungary ; 
 nor was it a public manifesto, to which any foreign state was called on to 
 reply. It was an account of its transactions communicated by the execu 
 tive government to the Senate, at the request of that body ; made public, 
 indeed, but made public only because such is the common and usual course 
 of proceeding. It may be regarded as somewhat strange, therefore, that 
 the Austrian Cabinet did not perceive that, by the instructions given to Mr. 
 Hiilsernann, it was itself interfering with the domestic concerns of a foreign 
 state, the very thing which is the ground of its complaint against the 
 United States. 
 
 This department has, on former occasions, informed the ministers of for 
 eign powers, that a communication from the President to either house of con 
 gress is regarded as a domestic communication, of which, ordinarily, no 
 foreign state h;is cognizance ; and in more recent instances, the great incon 
 venience of making such communications the subject of diplomatic corres 
 pondence and discussion has been fully shown. If it had been the pleasure 
 of his majesty, the Emperor of Austria, during the struggles in Hungary, to 
 have admonished the provisional government, or the people of that country, 
 against involving themselves in disaster, by following the evil and dangerous 
 example of the United States of America, in making efforts for the establish 
 ment of independent governments, such an admonition from that sovereign 
 to his Hungarian subjects would not have originated here a diplomatic cor 
 respondence. The President might, perhaps, on this ground, have declined 
 to direct any particular reply to Mr. Hiilsemann s note ; but, out of proper 
 respect for the Austrian government, it has been thought better to answer 
 that note at length ; arid the more especially, as the occasion is not unfavor 
 able for the expression of the general sentiments of the government of the 
 United States upon the topics which that note discusses. 
 
 A leading subject in Mr. Hiilsemann s note is that of the correspondence 
 between Mr. Hiilsemann and the predecessor of the undersigned, in which 
 Mr. Clayton, by direction of the President, informed Mr. Hiilsemann "that 
 Mr. Mann s mission had no other object in view than to obtain reliable in 
 formation as to the true state of affairs in Hungary, by personal observation." 
 Mr. Hiilsemann remarks, that " this explanation can hardly be admitted, 
 for it says very little as to the cause of the anxiety which was felt to 
 ascertain the chances of the revolutionists." As this, however, is the only 
 purpose which can, with any appearance of truth, be attributed to the 
 agency ; as nothing whatever is alleged by Mr. Hiilsemann to have been 
 either done or said by the agent inconsistent with such an object, the un 
 dersigned conceives that Mr. Clayton s explanation ought to be deemed, not 
 only admissible, but quite satisfactory. 
 
 Mr. Hiilsemann states, in the course of his note, that his instructions to 
 address his present communication to Mr. Clayton reached Washington 
 about the time of the lamented death of the late President, and that he 
 delayed, from a sense of propriety, the execution of his task until the new 
 administration should be fully organized ; "a delay which he now rejoices 
 at, as it has given him the opportunity of ascertaining from the new Presi 
 dent himself, on the occasion of the reception of the diplomatic corps, that 
 the fundamental policy of the United States, so frequently proclaimed, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 55 1 
 
 would guide the relations of the American government with other powers." 
 Mr. Hiilsemann also observes, that it is in his power to assure the under 
 signed "that the imperial government is disposed to cultivate relations of 
 friendship and good understanding with the United States." 
 
 The President receives this assurance of the disposition of the imperial 
 gove:nment with great satisfaction ; and, in consideration of the friendly- 
 relations of the two governments thus mutually recognized, and of the 
 peculiar nature of the incidents by which their good understanding is sup 
 posed by Mr. Hiilsemann to have been for a moment disturbed or en 
 dangered, the President regrets that Mr. Hiilsemann did not feel himself at 
 liberty wholly to forbear from the execution of instructions, which were of 
 course transmitted from Vienna without any foresight of the state of things 
 under which they would reach Washington. If Mr. Hiilsemann saw, in the 
 address of the President to the diplomatic corps, satisfactory pledges of the 
 sentiments and the policy of this government in regard to neutral rights and 
 neutral duties, it might, perhaps, have been better not to bring on a dis 
 cussion of past transactions. But the undersigned readily admits that this 
 was a question fit only for the consideration and decision of Mr. Hiilsemann 
 himself; and although the President does riot see that any good purpose can 
 be answered by reopening the inquiry into the propriety of the steps taken 
 by President Taylor to ascertain the probable issue of the late civil war in 
 Hungary, justice to his memory requires the undersigned briefly to restate 
 the history of those steps, and to show their consistency with the neutral 
 policy which has invariably guided the government of the United States in 
 its foreign relations, as well as with the established and well-settled prin 
 ciples of national intercourse, and the doctrines of public law. 
 
 The undersigned will first observe, that the President is persuaded his 
 majesty, the Emperor of Austria, does not think that the government of the 
 United States ought to view with unconcern the extraordinary events which 
 have occurred, not only in his dominions, but in many other parts of Europe, 
 since February, 1848. The government and people of the United States, 
 like other intelligent governments and communities, take a lively interest 
 in the movements and the events of this remarkable age, in whatever part 
 of the world they may be exhibited. But the interest taken by the United 
 States in those events has not proceeded from any disposition to depart 
 from that neutrality toward foreign powers, which is among the deepest 
 principles and the most cherished traditions of the political history of the 
 Union. It has been the necessary effect of the unexampled character of the 
 events themselves, which could not fail to arrest the attention of the contem 
 porary world as they will doubtless fill a memorable page in history. 
 
 But the undersigned goes further, and freely admits that, in proportion 
 as these extraordinary events appear to have their origin in those great 
 ideas of responsible and popular government, on which the American con 
 stitutions themselves are wholly founded, they could not but command the 
 warm sympathy of the people of this country. Well-known circumstances 
 in their history, indeed their whole history, have made them the represen 
 tatives of purely popular principles of government. In this light they now 
 stand before the world. They could not, if they would, conceal their 
 character, their condition, or their destiny. They could not, if they so 
 
558 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 desired, shut out from the view of mankind the causes which have placed 
 them, in so short a national career, in the station which they now hold 
 among the civilized states of the world. They could not, if they desired 
 it, suppress either the thoughts or the hopes which arise in men s minds, in 
 other countries, from contemplating their successful example of free govern 
 ment. That very intelligent and distinguished personage, the Emperor 
 Joseph the Second, was among the first to discern this necessary conse 
 quence of the American Revolution on the sentiments and opinions of the 
 people of Europe. In a letter to his minister in the Netherlands in 1787, 
 he observes, that " it is remarkable that France, by the assistance which sho 
 afforded to the Americans, gave birth to reflections on freedom." This 
 fact, which the sagacity of that monarch perceived at so early* a day, is 
 aow known and admitted by intelligent powers all over the world. True, 
 indeed, it is, that the prevalence on the other continent of sentiments favor 
 able to republican liberty is the result of the reaction of America upon 
 Europe ; and the source and center of this reaction has doubtless been, and 
 now is, in these United States. 
 
 The position thus belonging to the United States is H fact as inseparable 
 from their history, their constitutional organization, and their character, as 
 the opposite position of the powers composing the European alliance is 
 from the history and constitutional organization of the government of those 
 powers. The sovereigns who form that alliance have not unfrequently felt 
 it their right to interfere with the political movements of foreign states ; 
 and have, in their manifestoes and declarations, denounced the popular ideas 
 of the age in terms so comprehensive as of necessity to include the United 
 States, and their forms of government. It is well known that one of the 
 leading principles announced by the allied sovereigns, after the restoration 
 of the Bourbons, is, that all popular or constitutional rights are holden no 
 otherwise than as grants and indulgencies from crowned heads. " Useful 
 and necessary changes in legislation and administration," says the Laybach 
 Circular of May, 1821, "ought only to emanate from the free will and in 
 telligent conviction of those whom God has rendered responsible for power ; 
 all that deviates from this line necessarily leads to disorder, commotions, 
 and evils far more insufferable than those which they pretend to remedy." 
 And his late Austrian majesty, Francis the First, is reported to have declared, 
 in an address to the Hungarian Diet, in 1820, that " the whole world had 
 become foolish, and, leaving their ancient laws, were in search of imaginary 
 constitutions." These declarations amount to nothing less than a denial of 
 the lawfulness of the origin of the government of the United States, since 
 it is certain that that government was established in consequence of a change 
 which did not proceed from thrones, or the permission of crowned heads. 
 But the government of the United States heard these denunciations of its 
 fundamental principles without remonstrance, or the disturbance of its 
 equanimity. This was thirty years ago. 
 
 The power of this republic, at the present moment, is spread over a 
 region one of the richest and most fertile on the globe, and of an extent in 
 comparison with which the possessions of the house of Hapsburg are but as 
 a patch on the earth s surface. Its population, already twenty-five millions, 
 will exceed that of the Austrian empire within the period during which it 
 
OF AMERICANS. 559 
 
 may be hoped that Mr. Hiilsemann may yet remain in the honorable dis 
 charge of his duties to his government. Its navigation and commerce are 
 hardly exceeded by the oldest and most commercial nations ; its maritime 
 means and its maritime power may be seen by Austria herself, in all seas 
 where she has ports, as well as they may be seen, also, in all other quarters 
 of tbe globe. Life, liberty, property, and all personal rights, are amply 
 secured to all citizens, and protected by just and stable laws ; and credit, 
 public and private, is as well established as in any government of Conti 
 nental Europe ; and the country, in all its interests and concerns, partakes 
 most largely in all the improvements and progress which distinguish the 
 age. Certainly, the United States may be pardoned, even by those who 
 profess adherence to the principles of absolute government, if they enter 
 tain an ardent affection for those popular forms of political organization, 
 which have so rapidly advanced their own prosperity and happiness, and 
 enabled them, in so short a period, to bring their country, and the hemi 
 sphere to which it belongs, to the notice and respectful regard, not to say 
 the admiration, of the civilized world. Nevertheless, the United States 
 have abstained, at all times, from acts of interference with the political 
 changes of Europe. They cannot, however, fail to cherish always a lively 
 interest in the fortunes of nations struggling for institutions like their own* 
 But this sympathy, so far from being necessarily a hostile feeling toward any 
 of the parties to these great national struggles, is quite consistent with 
 amicable relations with them all. The Hungarian people are three or four 
 times as numerous as the inhabitants of these United States were when the 
 American Kevolution broke out They possess, in a distinct language, and 
 in other respects, important elements of a separate nationality, which the 
 Anglo-Saxon race in this country did not possess ; and if the United States 
 wish success to countries contending for popular constitutions and national 
 independence, it is only because they regard such constitutions, and such 
 national independence, not as imaginary, but as real blessings. They 
 claim no right, however, to take part in the struggles of foreign powers in 
 order to promote these ends. It is only in defense of his own government, 
 and its principles and character, that the undersigned has now expressed 
 himself on this subject. But when the people of the United States be 
 hold the people of foreign countries, without any such interference, spon 
 taneously moving toward the adoption of institutions like their own, 
 it surely cannot be expected of them to remain wholly indifferent 
 spectators. 
 
 In regard to the recent very important occurrences in the Austrian em 
 pire, the undersigned freely admits the difficulty which exists in this 
 country, and is alluded to by Mr. Hiilsemann, of obtaining accurate infor 
 mation. But this difficulty is by no means to be ascribed to what Mr. 
 Hiilsemann calls, with little justice, as it seems to the undersigned, "the 
 mendacious rumors propagated by the American press." For information 
 on this subject, and others of the same kind, the American press is, of 
 necessity, almost wholly dependent upon that of Europe; and if "men 
 dacious rumors " respecting Austrian and Hungarian affairs have been any 
 where propagated, that propagation of falsehoods has been most prolific on 
 the European continent, and in countries immediately bordering on tb* 
 
560 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Austrian empire. But, wherever these errors may have originated, they 
 certainly justified the late President in seeking true information through 
 authentic channels. 
 
 His attention was first particularly drawn to the state of things in Hun- 
 gary by the correspondence of Mr. Stiles, Charge d Affaires of the Uirited 
 States at Vienna. In the autumn of 1848, an application was made to this 
 gentleman, on behalf of Mr. Kossuth, formerly Minister of Finance for tin 
 Kingdom of Hungary, by Imperial appointment, but, at the time tho 
 application was made, chief of the revolutionary government. The object 
 of this application was to obtain the good offices of Mr. Stiles with the Im 
 perial government, with a view to the suspension of hostilities. This 
 application became the subject of a conference between Prince Schwarzen- 
 berg, the Imperial Minister for Foreign Affairs, and Mr. Stiles. The 
 Prince commended the considerateness and propriety with which Mr. 
 Stiles had acted ; and, so far from, disapproving his interference, advised 
 him, in case he received a further communication from the revolutionary 
 government in Hungary, to have an interview with Prince Windischgriitz, 
 who was charged by the Emperor with the proceedings determined on in 
 relation to that kingdom. A week after these occurrences, Mr. Stiles re 
 ceived, through a secret channel, a communication signed by L. Kossuth, 
 President of the Committee of Defense, and countersigned by Francis 
 Pulszky, Secretary of State. On the receipt of this communication, Mr. 
 Stiles had an interview with Prince Windischgratz, " who received him 
 with the utmost kindness, and thanked him for his efforts toward reconcil 
 ing the existing difficulties." Such were the incidents which first drew the 
 attention of the government of the United States particularly to the affairs 
 of Hungary, and the conduct of Mr. Stiles, though acting without instruc 
 tions in a matter of much delicacy, having been viewed with satisfaction 
 by the Imperial government, was approved by that of the United 
 States. 
 
 In the course of the year 1848, and in the early part of 1849, a con 
 siderable number of Hungarians came to the United States. Among them 
 were individuals representing themselves to be in the confidence of tho 
 revolutionar} r government, and by these persons the President was strongly 
 urged to recognize the existence of that government. In these applica 
 tions, and in the manner in which they were viewed by the President, 
 there was nothing unusual : still less was there anything unauthorized by 
 the law of nations. It is the right of every independent state to enter into 
 friendly relations with every other independent state. Of course, questions 
 of prudence naturally arise in reference to new states, brought by successful 
 revolutions into the family of nations ; but it is not to be required of neutral 
 powers that they should await the recognition of the new government by 
 the parent state. No principle of public law has been more frequently 
 acted upon, within the last thirty years, by the great powers of the world, 
 than this. Within that period, eight or ten new states have established in- 
 dependent governments, within the limits of the colonial dominions of Spain, 
 on this continent ; and in Europe the same thing has been done by Belgium 
 and Greece. The existence of all these governments was recognized by some 
 of the leading powers of Europe, as well as by the United States, before it 
 
OF AMERICANS. 561 
 
 was acknowledged by the states from which they had separated themselves. 
 If, therefore, the United States had gone so far as formally to acknowledge 
 the independence of Hungary, although, as the result has proved, it would 
 have been a precipitate step, and one from which no benefit would have 
 resulted to either party ; it would not, nevertheless, have been an act 
 against the law of nations, provided they took no part in her contest with 
 Austria. But the United States did no such thing. Not only did they 
 Bi t yield to Hungary any actual countenance or succor, not only did they 
 not show their ships of war in the Adriatic with any menacing or hostile 
 aspect, but they studiously abstained from everything which had not been 
 done in other cases in times past, and contented themselves with instituting 
 an inquiry into the truth and reality of alleged political occurrences. Mr. 
 Hiilsemann incorrectly states, unintentionally certainly, the nature of the 
 mission of this agent, when he says, that "a United States agent had been 
 dispatched to Vienna, with orders to watch for a favorable moment to 
 recognize the Hungarian republic, and to conclude a treaty of commerces 
 with the same." This, indeed, would have been a lawful object, but Mr. 
 Mann s errand was, in the first instance, purely one of inquiry. He had no 
 power to act, unless he had first come to the conviction that a firm and 
 stable Hungarian government existed. " The principal object the Presi 
 dent has in view," according to his instructions, " is to obtain minute arid 
 reliable information in regard to Hungary, in connection with the affairs of 
 adjoining countries, the probable issue of the present revolutionary move 
 ments, and the chances we may have of forming commercial arrangements 
 with that power favorable to the United States." Again, in the same paper, 
 it is said : " The object of the President is to obtain information in regard 
 to Hungary, and her resources and prospects, with a view to an early recog 
 nition of her independence, and the formation of commercial relations with 
 her." It was only in the event that the new government should appear, in 
 the opinion of the agent, to be firm and stable, that the President proposed 
 to recommend its recognition. 
 
 Mr. Hiilsemann, in qualifying these steps of President Taylor with the 
 epithet of " hostile," seems to take for granted that the inquiry could, in 
 the expectation of the President, have but one result, and that favorable to 
 Hungary. If this were so, it would not change the case. But the Ameri 
 can government sought for nothing but truth ; it desired to learn the facts 
 through a reliable channel. It so happened, in the chances and vicissitudes 
 of human affairs, that the result was adverse to the Hungarian revolution. 
 The American agent, as was stated in his instructions to be not unlikely, 
 found the condition of Hungarian affairs less prosperous than it had been, or 
 had been believed to be. He did not enter Hungary, nor hold any direct 
 communication with her revolutionary leaders. He reported against the 
 recognition of her independence, because he found she had been unable to 
 Bet up a firm and stable government. He carefully forbore, as his instruc 
 tions required, to give publicity to his mission, and the undersigned sup 
 poses that the Austrian government first learned its existence from the com 
 munications of the President to the Senate. 
 
 Mr. Hiilsemann will observe from this statement, that Mr. Mann s mission 
 was wholly unobjectionable, and strictly within the rule of the law of 
 
562 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 nations and the duty of the United States as a neutral power. He will 
 accordingly feel how little foundation there is for his remark, that " those 
 who did not hesitate to assume the responsibility of sending Mr. Dudley 
 Mann on such an errand, should, independent of considerations of propriety, 
 have borne in mind that they were exposing their emissary to be treated as 
 a spy." A spy is a person sent by one belligerent to gain secret informa 
 tion of the forces and defenses of the other, to be used for hostile purposes. 
 According to practice, he may use deception, under the penalty of being 
 lawfully hanged if detected. To give this odious name and character to a 
 confidential agent of a neutral power, bearing the commission of his country, 
 and sent for a purpose fully warranted by the law of nations, is not only to 
 abuse language, but also to confound all just ideas, and to announce the 
 wildest and most extravagant notions, such as certainly were not to havo 
 been expected in a grave diplomatic paper; and the President directs the 
 undersigned to say to Mr. Hiilsemann, that the American government 
 would regard such an imputation upon it by the Cabinet of Austria, as that 
 it employs spies, and that in a quarrel none of its own, as distinctly offen 
 sive, if it did not presume, as it is willing to presume, that the word used 
 in the original German was not of equivalent meaning with "spy" in the 
 English language, or that in some other way the employment of such an 
 opprobrious term may be explained. Had the Imperial government of 
 Austria subjected Mr. Mann to the treatment of a spy, it would have placed 
 itself without the pale of civilized nations ; and the Cabinet of Vienna mav 
 be assured, that if it had carried, or attempted to carry, any such lawless 
 purpose into effect, in the case of an authorized agent of this government, 
 the spirit of the people of this country would have demanded immediate 
 hostilities to be waged by the utmost exertion of the power of the republic, 
 military and naval. 
 
 Mr. Hiilsemann proceeds to remark, that "this extremely painful inci 
 dent, therefore, might have been passed over, without any written evidence 
 being left on our part in the archives of the United States, had not General 
 Taylor thought proper to revive the whole subject, by communicating to 
 the Senate, in his message of the 18th (28th) of last March, the instructions 
 with which Mr. Mann had been furnished on the occasion of his mission to 
 Vienna. The publicity which has been given to that document, has placed 
 the Imperial government under the necessity of entering a formal protest, 
 through its official representative, against the proceedings of the American 
 government, lest that government should construe our silence into approba 
 tion, or toleration even, of the principles which appear to have guided its 
 action and the means it has adopted." The undersigned reasserts to Mr. 
 Hiilsemann, and to the Cabinet of Vienna, and in the presence of the world, 
 that the steps taken by President Taylor, now protested against by the 
 Austrian government, were warranted by the law of nations, and agreeable 
 to the usages of civilized states. With respect to the communication of Mr. 
 Mann s instructions to the Senate, and the language in which they are 
 couched, it has already been said, and Mr. Hiilsemann must feel the justice 
 of the remark, that these are domestic affairs, in reference to which the 
 government of the United States cannot admit the slightest responsibility 
 to the government of his Imperial Majesty. No state, deservirg the appel- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 56$ 
 
 iation of independent, can permit the language in which it may instruct its 
 own officers, in the discharge of their duties to itself, to be called in ques 
 tion under any pretext by a foreign power. 
 
 But even if this were not so, Mr. Hulsemann is in an error in stating that 
 the Austrian government is called an " iron rule," in Mr. Mann s instruc 
 tions. That phrase is not found in the paper ; and in respect to the honor 
 ary epithet bestowed in Mr. Mann s instructions on the late chief of the 
 revolutionary government of Hungary, Mr. Hulsemann will bear in mind 
 that the government of the United States cannot justly be expected, in a 
 confidential communication to its own agent, to withhold frohi an indi 
 vidual an epithet of distinction, of which a great part of the world thinks 
 him worthy, merely on the ground that his own government regards him 
 as a rebel. At an early stage of the American Revolution, while Washing 
 ton was considered by the English government as a rebel chief, he waa 
 regarded on the Continent of Europe as an illustrious hero. But the 
 undersigned will take the liberty of bringing the Cabinet of Vienna into the 
 presence of its own predecessors, and of citing for its consideration the con 
 duct of the Imperial government itself. In the year 1777, the war of the 
 American Revolution was raging all over these United States. England 
 was prosecuting that war with a most resolute determination, and by the 
 exertion of all her military means to the fullest extent. Germany was at 
 that time at peace with England ; and yet an agent of that Congress, which 
 was looked upon by England in no other light than that of a body in open 
 rebellion, was not only received with great respect by the ambassador of the 
 Empress Queen, at Paris, and by the minister of the Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany (who afterward mounted the Imperial throne), but resided in 
 Vienna for a considerable time ; not, indeed, officially acknowledged, but 
 treated with courtesy and respect ; and the Emperor suffered himself to be 
 persuaded by that agent to exert himself to prevent the German powers 
 from furnishing troops to England to enable her to suppress the rebellion in 
 America. Neither Mr. Hulsemann nor the Cabinet of Vienna, it is pre 
 sumed, will undertake to say that any thing said or done by this govern 
 ment in regard to the recent war between Austria and Hungary is not borne 
 out, and much more than borne out, by this example of the Imperial Court 
 It is believed that the Emperor Joseph the Second habitually spoke in 
 terms of respect and admiration of the character of Washington, as he is 
 known to have done of that of Franklin ; and he deemed it no infraction of 
 neutrality to inform himself of the progress of the revolutionary struggle in 
 America, or to express his deep sense of the merits and the talents of those 
 illustrious men who were then leading their country to independence and 
 renown. The undersigned may add, that in -1781 the courts of Russia and 
 Austria proposed a diplomatic congress of the belligerent powers, to which 
 the commissioners of the United States should be admitted. 
 
 Mr. Hulsemann thinks that in Mr. Mann s instructions improper expres 
 sions are introduced in regard to Russia ; but the undersigned has no reason . 
 to suppose that Russia herself is of that opinion. The only observation 
 made in those instructions about Russia, is, that she " has chosen to assume 
 an attitude of interference, and her immense preparations for invading and 
 reducing the Hungarians to the rule of Austria, from which they desire to 
 36 
 
564 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 be released, gave so serious a character to the contest as to awaken tho 
 most painful solicitude in the minds of Americans." The undersigned can 
 not but consider the Austrian Cabinet as unnecessarily susceptible in look 
 ing upon language like this as a "hostile demonstration." If we remember 
 that it was addressed by the government to its own agent, and has received 
 publicity only through a communication from one department of tha 
 American government to another, the language quoted must be deemed 
 moderate and inoffensive. The comity of nations would hardly forbid ita 
 being addressed to the two imperial powers themselves. It is scarcely 
 necessary for the undersigned to say, that the relations of the United 
 States with Russia have always been of the most friendly kind, and have 
 never been deemed by either party to require any compromise of their 
 peculiar views upon subjects of domestic or foreign polity, or the true origin 
 of governments. At any rate, the fact that Austria, in her contest with 
 Hungary, had an intimate and faithful ally in Russia, cannot alter the real 
 nature of the question between Austria and Hungary, nor in any way affect 
 the neutral rights and duties of the government of the United States, or the 
 justifiable sympathies of the American people. It is, indeed, easy to con 
 ceive, that favor toward struggling Hungary would be not diminished, but 
 increased, when it was seen that the arm of Austria was strengthened and 
 upheld by a power whose assistance threatened to be, and which in the end 
 proved to be, overwhelmingly destructive of all her hopes. 
 
 Toward the conclusion of his note Mr. Hiilsemann remarks, that "if the 
 government of the United States were to think it proper to take an indirect 
 part in the political movements of Europe, American policy would be ex 
 posed to acts of retaliation, and to certain inconveniences, which would not 
 fail to affect the commerce and industry of the two hemispheres." As to 
 this possible fortune, this hypothetical retaliation, the government and peo 
 ple of the United States are quite willing to take their chances, and abide 
 their destiny. Taking neither a direct nor an indirect part in the domestic 
 or intestine movements of Europe, they have no fear of events of the nature 
 alluded to by Mr. Hiilsemann. It would be idle now to discuss with Mr. 
 Hiilsemann those acts of retaliation, which he imagines may possibly take 
 place at some indefinite time hereafter. Those questions will be discussed 
 when they arise ; and Mr. Hiilsemann and the Cabinet at Vienna may rest 
 assured, that, in the meantime, while performing with strict and exact 
 fidelity all their neutral duties, nothing will deter either the government or 
 the people of the United States from exercising, at their own discretion, the 
 rights belonging to them as an independent nation, and of forming and ex 
 pressing their own opinions, freely, and at all times, upon the great political 
 events which may transpire among the civilized nations of the earth. 
 Their own institutions stand upon the broadest principles of civil liberty ; 
 and beHeving those principles and the fundamental laws in which they are 
 embodied, to be eminently favorable to the prosperity of states, to be, in 
 fact, the only principles of government which meet the demands of tho 
 present enlightened age, the President has perceived, with great satisfaction, 
 that, in the constitution recently introduced into the Austrian empire, many 
 of these great principles are recognized and applied, and he cherishes a 
 sincere wish that they may produce the same happy effects throughout his 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 Austrian Majesty s extensive dominions that they have done in the United 
 States. 
 
 The undersigned has the honor to repeat to Mr. Hiilsemann the assurance 
 of his high consideration. DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 TUE CHEVALIER J. G. HULSKMANN, Charge d Affaires of Austria, Washington. 
 
 Chevalier Hiilsemann, under date of March llth, 1851, briefly replied to 
 this " famous dispatch" from Mr. Webster, and in it stated that the opinions 
 of his government remain unaltered in respect to the mission of Mr. Mann ; 
 but that it "declines all ulterior discussion of that annoying incident," from 
 unwillingness to disturb its friendly relations with the United States. Mr. 
 Webster, in his rejoinder to this communication, said that the government 
 of the United States was equally disinclined to prolong the discussion, but 
 declared that their principles and policy are fixed and fastened upon them by 
 their character, their history, and their position among the nations of the 
 world ; and it may be regarded as certain, that those principles and this 
 policy will not be abandoned or departed from until some extraordinary 
 change shall take place in the general current of human affairs." 
 
 AMERICAN INTERVENTION IN BEHALF OF THE HUNGARIAN EXILES, WITH A 
 SKETCH OF THE VISIT OF KOSSUTH TO THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 On the termination of the Hungarian War, in August, 1849, Louis 
 Kossuth, who had been governor of Hungary, and was the one ruling and 
 directing spirit of the Hungarian cause, with a party of officers and others 
 fled across the Turkish frontier, and threw himself on the hospitality of the 
 Sultan, who promised them a safe asylum. 
 
 Russia and Austria demanded that the fugitives should be given up ; and 
 for some months it was uncertain if the Turkish government would dare to 
 refuse. At first a decided negative was given ; then the Porte wavered, 
 and it was officially announced to Kossuth and his companions that the 
 only means for them to avoid a surrender would be to give up the Chris 
 tian religion and become Mohammedans, and thus take advantage of the 
 Moslem law, that any fugitive embracing that faith can claim the protec 
 tion of the government. Kossuth refused to purchase his life at such a 
 pric<\ Finally Austria and Russia were induced to modify their demand, 
 and merely insist upon the detention of the fugitives. 
 
 Early in the year 1851, Daniel Webster, as Secretary of State, directed 
 Mr. Marsh, our minister at Constantinople, to urge the Porf.e to suffer the 
 exiles to come to the United States. A similar course was pursued by the 
 British government. It was finally promised that these requests should be 
 complied with at the expiration of the period of the detention agreed upon 
 by the Sultan, when the exiles would be free to depart to any part of the 
 world. Our government at once placed the United States steam-frigate 
 Mississippi at the disposal of Kossuth, who accepted the offer and embarked 
 with his suite on the 12th of September, 1851. They arrived at Marseilles 
 on the 25th, when the French government refused permission to Kossuth 
 to pass through France to England, where he wished to leave his children 
 for their education, prior to visiting the United States. On the 5th of 
 October, Kossutb, with his wife, three children, and eleven of his suite, left 
 
566 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the Mississippi at Gibraltar and embarked on an English passenger-steamer 
 for Southampton, while the Mississippi, with the remainder of the exiles, 
 forty-two in number, sailed for New York. 
 
 Early in December, Kossuth and his suite arrived at New York in the 
 steamer Humbolt, from England. The enthusiasm with which he was 
 received was never equaled in our country on any occasion within this 
 century. It arose from the extraordinary ability of the man, and the 
 character of the heroic struggle in which he had been engaged. 
 
 On his entrance into New York, as the guest of the city, he was greeted 
 by thousands upon thousands of the people, whose wild excitement was 
 such that it seemed as if even the loudest huzzas were insufficient to give 
 vent to their emotions. Ho reviewed the troops, and there was a large 
 civil and military procession in his honor. For the few subsequent days 
 he was waited upon at his rooms by numerous deputations from societies, 
 and from cities, inviting him to visit them. On the 12th, the corporation 
 of New York entertained him at a splendid banquet, in which he made a> 
 long and able speech, explanatory of the objects of his visit to the United 
 States. The point of his address, and of his speeches generally throughout 
 the country, was to urge this government to combine with that of England 
 in a protest against the intervention of Russia in the affairs of Hungary. 
 He argued that this would be sufficient to effect the object that Russia 
 would be overawed to continue at peace, and thus his country would be 
 enabled to gain her independence of Austria. On the 15th, the banquet of 
 the press was given him at the Astor House ; and on the succeeding day 
 the military of New York, about six thousand strong, received him at 
 Castle Garden. The bar of the city gave him a banquet on the 19th, and 
 on the 20th he pronounced a farewell address to the ladies, at Tripler Hall. 
 Passing through Philadelphia and Baltimore to Washington, he was re 
 ceived in those cities with similar honors and enthusiasm. At the Federal 
 city, Kossuth called upon President Fillmore, with his suite, and read a 
 short address, to which the President replied. Congress, who had passed 
 an almost unanimous resolution welcoming him to the capital and the 
 country, on the 7th gave him a banquet. His speech on this occasion was 
 "a tere and most eloquent sketch of the position of his country." 
 Speeches in reply were made by Messrs. Cass, Douglass, and Webster the 
 latter expressing his high admiration for their guest, and declaring his 
 opinion that Hungary was admirably fitted for republican institutions, and 
 his wish for the speedy establishment of her independence. The others 
 affirmed their desire that the United States should protest against Russian 
 intervention. 
 
 In the course of the next few weeks, Kossuth visited Annapolis, Harris- 
 burg, Pittsburg, Cleveland, and Columbus, and was received by the legisla 
 tures of Maryland, Pennsylvania and Ohio. The same unbounded enthu 
 siasm greeted him. On the 9th of February he reached Cincinnati, where 
 he remained several weeks, receiving deputations, making speeches, otc. 
 He solicited and received, in the whole course of his tour, large sums of 
 money, as contributions to assist in a second proposed attempt to establish 
 Hungarian Independence. He declined at this point to receive any more 
 public entertainments, on the ground that it involved a waste of money, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 567 
 
 and to no benefit. At this period some published letters of exiled Hun* 
 garian leaders, upon the merits of Kossuth, reached the country, and much 
 cooled the public sentiment in his favor. Besides this, President Fillmore, 
 in compliance with a resolution of Congress, transmitted copies of the cor 
 respondence between officers of the Mississippi and some American consuls in 
 Europe, and the government concerning Kossuth. They showed distrust 
 of his plans, and expressed great dissatisfaction at the marks of respect 
 which were paid him at the various ports on the Mediterranean at which 
 the Mississippi had touched. His returning thanks to "the people" of 
 Marseilles, who cheered him from boats in the harbor, was especially cen 
 sured : " liberty of speech " having been considered as a liberty too great 
 to be taken with the subjects of Louis Napoleon, even from the decks of an 
 American national vessel, under the star d and striped flag, that freemen 
 have, perhaps erroneously, deemed the emblem of Liberty the world over, 
 and if so, they should in all humility ask pardon for so monstrous an 
 offense. 
 
 In March, Kossuth reached St. Louis, and from thence he passed down 
 the Mississippi, and following along the seaboard States of the South he 
 ended his tour by a visit to the New England States. Throughout the 
 South he was generally received with coldness and distrust, but on reaching 
 the soil of New England, he was greeted with something of the same fervor 
 that had previously attended him at the North and West. On the 16th of 
 July, Kossuth left the country in a steamer for England, after the most ex 
 traordinary tour of modern times. He had failed in the main object of his 
 mission, the enlistment of our government in his doctrine of intervention in 
 European politics. 
 
 One of the most interesting of all the incidents which had marked his 
 tour, was his visit to the bedside of the great-hearted and genial Henry 
 Clay, then near his end. The venerable patriot had witnessed with alarm 
 the wild furor with which the American people had welcomed this dis 
 tinguished foreigner, and fearing that his seductive eloquence would betray 
 his countrymen into an armed crusade in behalf of Republicanism in 
 Europe, he summoned Kossuth to his dying bed, to dissuade him against the 
 dissemination of doctrines that he considered not only of no avail to the 
 cause of liberty on the continent, but which he feared would prove in the 
 end disastrous to his own beloved country, to whose welfare a long life of 
 persevering service had attested his devotion. 
 
 The visit of Kossuth to the United States was instructive and not unpro 
 ductive of good results. It was a pleasant interlude in the keen excitement 
 and hurry of American life, for the masses to pause and listen to this sur 
 passing orator upon the vital topics of liberty, and the rights of man ; and it 
 was gratifying to observe from how, down deep in the public heart came 
 the response to those ideas which form the foundation of all that makes us 
 great as a people. It was amusing to witness the excitement of some ordi 
 narily very grave citizens, who bawled themselves hoarse in their welcomes 
 to the famous Hungarian. Equally amusing was it to observe the disgust 
 of others of jaundiced temperaments at all this popular frenzy, and the ex 
 pressions of distrust that came from some people, who meant well, but who 
 philosophized unhappily. Others there were, too, we were astonished to 
 
568 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 find, that, although to " the manor born " we had to judge were " Bourbons 
 among us ; " for so strong was the evidence they gave that they had no sym 
 pathy in these subjects, that we could but wish that they might pass the 
 rest of their days under the most grinding despotism, to get ample expe 
 rience to the pleasantness of the sensation. Poor Chevalier Hiilsemann, 
 whose bout with Webster was fresh in the public memory, was in sore dis 
 tress, and indited several letters to cr government, protesting. against the 
 attentions that were being shown to Kossuth ; the last, a bitter complaint 
 that no notice had been deigned to his communications. 
 
 And the crowds that followed Kossuth ! What a variety of character for 
 observation! and what a variety of motive that drew them together! the 
 keen and miserably selfish politician, ready to rise on the wave of popular 
 opinion to popularity and a fat office the simple hearted school-boy, big 
 with a boy s thoughts, and the thoughts in Fourth of July orations the 
 ladies, and in crushing masses, too ! all talking at once, half crazy with ex 
 citement, pushing against each other, and pushing against the men, and then 
 raising on tip- toe to get a peep at a foreigner with a long beard, a wig he 
 had lost his hair in an Austrian dungeon mild blue eye, winning smile, and 
 a most musical voice, that was continually pleading in sad tones for " poor, 
 do \vn- trodden Hungary," in utterances, too, of that broken English that 
 always seems so artless, because so like the half-formed words of little 
 children. 
 
 Of Kossuth, it has been said, " He is the living leader of a lost cause. 
 His country is ruined its nationality destroyed, and through his efforts. 
 Yet the Hungarian people lay not this ruin to his charge ; and the first 
 lesson taught the infant Magyar is a blessing upon his name. Yet what 
 ever the future may have in store, his efforts have not been lost efforts. 
 The tree which he planted in blood, and agony, and tears, though its tender 
 shoots have been trampled down by the Russian bear, will yet spring up 
 again to gladden, if not his heart, yet those of his children, or his children s 
 children. The man may perish, but the cause endures." 
 
 HEROIC CONDUCT OF CAPTAIN INGRAHAM, OF THE UNITED STATES NAVT, IN 
 THE RESCUE OF MARTIN KOSTA FROM THE AUSTRIANS, AT SMYRNA. 
 
 In the summer of 1853, an incident occurred in Smyrna, Turkey, which 
 showed such fearless intrepidity in an American naval officer, in the rescue 
 of one of the Hungarian refugees, who had been seized and carried a 
 prisoner on board an Austrian man-of-war, that when the news of that event 
 reached America, a thrill of pride and of joy ran through all the land. 
 
 This officer was Captain Ingraham, of the United States Corvette, St. 
 Louis, and a native of South Carolina. The Hungarian who was thus res- 
 cued from an imprisonment, designed to have terminated in his execution, 
 was a young man named Martin Kosta, who had been a captain in the Hun 
 garian army, and who had subsequently emigrated to the United States. 
 Various accounts of this event were published at the time, Ibut that which 
 we annex is extracted from a letter of an officer on board the American 
 vessel, Passed Midshipman Charles B. Smith, of St. Louis Mo., to his 
 brother, then in Paris. 
 
 "We arrived at Smyrna the 23d of June. Immediately after our arrival, 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 our consul came on board and informed Captain Ingraham that the Austrian 
 consul had, in the most shameful manner, seized upon the body of Martin 
 Kosta, a Hungarian refugee, upon whose head Austria had set a great price. 
 Kostu had belonged to Kossuth s suite, and while in New York had ob 
 tained a paper from the New York State authorities, declaring his intention 
 of beunning a citizen of the United States. He left the United States 
 temporally, after staying there nearly two years, and came to Smyrna, 
 where, on the 22d of June, while sitting in a cafe, he was seized by three 
 Greek hirelings of the Austrian consul, and carried on board of the Austrian 
 brig-of-war Hussar, to be conveyed as a prisoner to Trieste. Our captain 
 immediately boarded the brig, and demanded to see Kosta. At first he 
 was told he was not on board ; but finally he visited the Austrian consul 
 and declared he would see him that he believed him to be an American 
 citizen, and he would have him at all hazards! Ingraham then again 
 boarded the Austrian vessel, and asked Kosta these, among other ques 
 tions : When he left the United States? Why he did so? and 
 if he was an American citizen ? To these questions he replied : I came 
 to Smyrna to settle I am not an American. This was in the presence of 
 the Austrian officers. 
 
 Nothing then could be done. But Captain Ingraham was not satisfied, 
 as Kosta held a paper from the New York State authorities, swearing to 
 become a citizen of the United States ; and he therefore wrote immediately 
 to our minister at Constantinople, who replied in a very indicisive and 
 evasive letter. The captain again wrote to him Mr. Brown. 
 
 On the 30th of June, a letter was sent on board from the shore, signed 
 Humanitas, praying in pleading terms the interference of our captain for 
 Kosta. 
 
 As Captain Ingraham had not received a second replj r from Mr. Brown, 
 he was determined that the man should not be conveyed by steamer to 
 Trieste until Mr. Brown had replied. We immediately got under weigh 
 and stood down, anchoring near the brig, fearing she might, unknown to us, 
 send Kosta on board the steamer, as it was our intention, should he be 
 taken on board, and the steamer put to sea, to go after her and release him. 
 Of course protests against his removal were made by our consul and captain 
 to the Austrian consul, under whose directions the captain of the Austrian 
 brig was acting. 
 
 In the meantime, an Austrian schooner-of-war came into port. Next 
 morning our captain received a letter authorizing him to take Kosta, be it 
 by force : the letter stating that he, being an outlaw of Austria, and holding 
 the paper he did, necessarily belonged to the United States. Captain 
 Ingraham immediately boarded the brig, and demanded to see Kosta, and 
 asked him again : 
 
 Are you an American? 
 I am. 
 
 Do you demand protection of the American flag ? 
 I do. 
 
 1 THEN YOU SHALL HAVE IT ! 
 
 This time which was or. the 2d of July, the captain saw Kosta alone : 
 before it was in the presence of the Austrian captain, when he thought, 
 
570 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 from the manner in which he made his replies, that he was frightened. 
 Captain Ingraham then informed the Austrian captain of the letter which 
 he had received, and, of course, his orders ; and added that he would 
 give him four Itours in which to deliver Kosta up. The other replied, It 
 rests with the Austrian consul. At nine o clock the American consul came 
 on board, and told Captain Ingraham to lengthen the time, whereupon a 
 letter was sent, giving until four o clock, p. M. At eleven o clock, A. M., 
 we cleared ship for action, as did the Austrian brg, schooner, and two 
 steamers. We mounted twenty guns, viz : four sixty-eight pounders, and 
 sixteen thirty-two pounders; the Austrian brig sixteen thirty-two pound 
 carronades ; the schoonef ten twelve pound carronades, and the two 
 steamers each four twelve pound carronades. We carried two hundred men, 
 and they, in all, two hundred and forty. 
 
 All preparations were made, and thousands flocked to the shore to wit- 
 mess the tight. A committee of gentlemen on shore, not wishing to see 
 bloodshed and indeed it would have been a hard fight called upon the 
 Austrian consul, and the matter was arranged by delivering Kosta up to the 
 care of the French consul, who is responsible for his body, to be delivered 
 only by the ag-eement of the Austrian and American consuls. So the 
 matter now rests with the two governments. These are the unvarnished 
 facts of the occurrence. 
 
 At four o clock, p. M., Kosta was landed amid the cheering of thousands 
 for America and Kosta. Parties were given, and the hospitalities of the 
 whole town were extended us there were no persons like tlie Americans. 
 That same evening, after Kosta s deliverance, a steamboat tilled with ladies 
 and gentlemen came near our ship, serenading us, and shouting most deaf 
 ening cheers for our flag." 
 
 After a lapse of some time, Kosta was set at liberty, and returned and 
 settled in the United States. No single event within our day has given 
 more wide satisfaction than the noble conduct of our naval officer in rescu 
 ing this unfortunate man on his demand for American protection. While in 
 the exercise of his benevolent impulses, Captain Ingraham was firm and 
 fearless, even to the point of battling with the whole Austrian fleet ; yet 
 when it was all over, and Kosta relieved from peril, it is said, with a 
 modesty peculiar to his nature, he was under apprehension of being cen 
 sured for it by his countrymen at home ! This event also created much 
 comment in Europe indignation at the despotic seizure of Kosta on the 
 neutral soil of Turkey, and admiration for the heroism of Ingraham, whose 
 conduct greatly tended to raise the American character in the estimation of 
 foreigners. 
 
 The Austrian government addressed a protest to the various crowned heads 
 of Europe, against the act of Captain Ingraham, and a correspondence also 
 ensued on the subject between Chevalier Hulsemann and Mr. Marcy, tho 
 American Secretary of State, in which the latter fully sustained the conduct 
 of Ingraham, declaring that Kosta, when seized, had the national character 
 of an American, and that the United States had the right to extend its pro 
 tection over 
 
Heathen of the Fife Points. 
 
NARRATIVE. 
 
 OF SOME OF THE 
 
 PHILANTHROPIC ENTERPRISES 
 
 IN THE GREAT METROPOLIS (NEW YORK), FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE 
 
 MISERABLE AND DEGRADED CLASSES. 
 
 To DOUBT that moral evil exists otherwise than for an eventual good, if 
 to question either the power or benevolence of the Creator. The world, 
 checkered as it is with happiness and misery, is precisely as foreknown, and 
 no disappointment with its condition can exist in the Divine Mind. 
 
 Some of the uses of evil are clear to us. If, with our present mental con 
 stitutions, life was an eternal sunshine, with no ills to combat, with no suf 
 fering to relieve, a monotony of ease would ensue, involving the loss of a 
 great source of happiness and a discipline which strengthens and ennobles 
 character. The greatest glory is in the combat for the welfare of others. 
 "It is more blessed to give than to receive," like every axiom of the Great 
 Teacher, is a vital truth tested by experience. And where this is united 
 to self-sacrifice, then the measure of the blessing is as the measure of the 
 denial. That man who dwells encased in self, is more to be pitied than 
 if he had been bom lame and blind, for he never can enjoy that most ex 
 quisite of all sensations the pleasure of doing good. 
 
 In our large cities where men most do congregate, the greatest amount of 
 evil, moral and physical, awaits the exertions of the benevolent. Our own 
 New York is a vast theater for the exercise of man s humanity ; and when 
 we behold the amount of woe existing in that great metropolis, we stand 
 appalled in view of the gigantic task of its relief. 
 
 During the last twenty years a tide of population has been setting in 
 toward these shores to which there is no movement parallel in history. 
 Within the past year over three hundred thousand foreigners have landed 
 in New York, or about one thousand per day for every week day. Of these 
 a portion have been good, sober, hard-working people, who have spread over 
 the country and mingled with our population. Another part has been the 
 off-scouring of the poorest districts and most degraded cities of the Old 
 World, which, in the main, has settled and stagnated in our metropolis. 
 
 The poor and idle of a street grew worse by having poor and idle neigh 
 bors. The respectable and industrious moved out of certain quarters, and 
 such places as the Five Points began to be known. Streets once inhabited by 
 the best of people (Lower Pearl, Cherry and Dover streets), being aban 
 doned, have since been held mostly by lodging houses of the poorest im 
 migrants. The children of this class have naturally grown up under the 
 
 (571) 
 
572 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 concentrated influences of the poverty and vice around them. By the re 
 port of Matsell, Chief of Police, some ten years since, it appears that there 
 were even then ten thousand vagrant children in the city, and in eleven 
 wards nearly three thousand children were engaged in thieving, of whom 
 two thirds were girls between the ages of eight and sixteen. In one ward, 
 there were twelve thousand children ; of these, nine thousand were destitute 
 of public religious influence. 
 
 Institutions have been established within a few years in the city, which, 
 although young, have attracted great attention from the blessings they have 
 produced. As American enterprises of a noble character, we are pleased to 
 present this account of them, as given us by a lady friend. They are the 
 Children s Aid Society, the Industrial and Mission Schools, etc., etc. Theso 
 are directed mainly to the reformation of the juvenile portion of the de 
 graded classes ; thus attacking vice and crime before the iron habits of ma 
 ture life should render hopeless all attempts at reform. 
 
 The CHILDREN S AID SOCIETY was founded a few years since by the Rev. 
 Charles L. Brace, a gentleman of education, and noted as a traveler. While 
 in Europe during the period of the Hungarian War, he devoted his best 
 thoughts and energies to the condition of the poor and the degraded of the 
 Old World. As he traveled from point to point, he inquired into the re 
 sults of the various experiments making for their moral and spiritual wel 
 fare. He soon became convinced of the truth of the remark of Talleyrand, 
 that "the vilest of people are not formidable to him who approaches them 
 in a spirit of kindness." On his return to New York, he began his benev 
 olent efforts to arouse the public mind to the great work of elevating and 
 reforming the lowest poor. " The persons here to be aided and Christianized," 
 said he, are not pagans and heathen, in lands where the very difficulties 
 make the work heroic, and where the associations of thousands of years 
 of history throw a romantic and factious interest about our labors." The 
 result of his statements, followed by eloquent appeals, was the establish 
 ment of this society, of which he is the secretary. Their office is at No, 
 11 Clinton Hall, Astor Place. Their business is transacted by Mr. Brace 
 and his assistants, in reference to the different objects of benevolence under 
 his supervision. At all hours of the day, groups of men, women, and chil 
 dren are in attendance, waiting to tell the sad story of their sorrows to be 
 provided with employment, or to meet individuals who are about to take 
 them to new homes in the country. Packages of old and new clothing are 
 also received at the office and distributed by the visitors connected with the 
 institution. 
 
 There are no lodging-rooms in the building, but vagrant boys are placed 
 temporarily at the News Boys Lodging- House. A building given by Mr. 
 Grinnell in the fourth Ward, for an Industrial School, has been used as a 
 temporary home for girls. The list subjoined will show where the visitors 
 found these young girls and rescued them just at the fearful turning point 
 between purity and vice : Girls taken from tjhe Tombs Prison, ten ; found 
 without a home, twenty-three ; beaten and turned out, two ; found in tho 
 streets (some nearly starved), seven; came in sick, etc., eight; vagrants, 
 from the office of the Society, twenty-eight. Total lodgers in one year, 
 eightv-two. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 573 
 
 The NEWS BOYS LODGING-HOUSE is in the fifth story of the Sun office, 
 Nassau street. It is an important branch- of the Children s Aid Society, 
 and is under the superintendence of Rev. C. C. Tracy. It has been sue 
 eessful in elevating a class who were once called by the police the banditt 
 of the city A cut prefacing this article is a representation of that class ol 
 "heathen" in an unconverted state. One of their rooms is furnished with 
 neat little beds, for which the boys pay sixpence a lodging, including a bath 
 in an adjoining room. The amount aside from this charge of sixpence neces 
 sary to support the establishment, is given by the society. If the visitor 
 can drop in of an evening, he may find the boys assembled at their desks, 
 engaged in reading or study, or quietly listening to some familiar lecture 
 from one of their many friends. And a new book presented to their little 
 library, will give the visitor a warm place in the affection of these sharp 
 little traders. It is wonderful to witness the tact, ingenuity, and assiduous 
 care which is constantly exercised toward them by their kind superintend 
 ent. In addition to his other cares, Mr. Tracy has of late assumed the 
 charge of conducting these boys to new homes provided for them in differ 
 ent parts of the country. His letters are so replete with interest that some 
 extracts from them will be given in this article ; may they be the means of 
 eliciting aid for the many wretched and friendless children, who are de 
 pendent upon this society for their hopes of happiness both here and here 
 after. 
 
 The Boys Meetings is another department of the same society. These, 
 says Mr Brace, will be important links in a chain of influences connecting 
 the multitude of benevolent, who wish to help, with the multitude of va 
 grant children, who perish for the lack of aid. 
 
 The visitor of the Children s Aid Society, in searching the docks, and 
 lumber yards, and low lodging-houses, finds ample materials for his Sun 
 day gatherings. He is careful not to excite their prejudice by speaking of 
 poor and ragged boys ; but scatters numerous cards of invitation to a " Boys 
 Meeting." These are held in a loft in a warehouse, or some other room 
 that can be procured, at a trifling expense. Then the most interesting 
 speakers that can be procured are enlisted in the work. "These," says Mr.. 
 Brace, "must be men of sense ; the vagrant boy sees through any humbug; 
 they must regard these helpless, forsaken ones as their brethren, and not 
 forget that in working for the least of these, they are working for Christ. 
 The leader must have several with him to gather in the boys, and assist in 
 Kinging and speaking. But they should all be men of force; and, above 
 all, with a patient, good nature." The following incident will show the im 
 portance of this qualification, in addressing an audience who have never en 
 tered a church, and who have not the slightest idea of veneration. A friend 
 of the writer has acquired great tact in securing the sympathy and interest 
 of these bright little urchins.- He does not attempt to present abstract 
 truths or mere exhortations ; but he never fails to fix the attention of the 
 boys, while presenting the truths of Christianity in a narrative form, avoid 
 ing merely religious phrases, but enforcing duty by vivid illustrations. On 
 one occasion, he called upon a friend to assist him. The speaker, a tall, 
 dignified man, with auburn hair, and pleasing expression of countenance, 
 arose and commenced : 
 
574 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 "My young friends, I shall occupy but a few moments in addressing you." 
 The boys listened attentively for a time ; but at length he became prosy, 
 They shuffled and whispered, and one near the door, to the delight of nig 
 companions, addressed the speaker in the following laconic manner : "Time s 
 up, Sandy ! " 
 
 Some of our most distinguished public speakers have never acquired the 
 art of addressing children. A certain doctor of divinity once assembled 
 his Sabbath School, arid commenced the following exordium : 
 
 " My dear little children, I am now about to give you a syllabus of the 
 doctrines contained in the Assembly s Catechism. But it mav be, that you 
 do not apprehend syllabus. Syllabus, my young friends, is equivalent to 
 synopsis." 
 
 Such speakers would find themselves out of place among the little heathen 
 composing the audiences convened in these Boys Meetings. 
 
 INDUSTRIAL SCHOOLS have been established in various parts of the city, 
 and conducted with great success. These encourage industry, as tho gar 
 ments made are given to the children by the way of reward. In all these 
 schools, the ragged are provided with clothing in a manner which is calcu 
 lated to cherish a feeling of independence, and remove the disposition for 
 begging, which is so prevalent among the poor. Each article of clothing is 
 valued at a certain number of marks, and the children are permitted to earn 
 their own garments by marks for good behavior and scholarship; and the 
 most industrious can take home some articles of clothing for a needy brother 
 or sister. In giving to this society, the stranger may rest assured that all 
 of his money will be used directly for the object designated none will ba 
 spent on buildings and fixtures. The way in which the designs of the be 
 nevolent are often misapplied, is illustrated by the well known anecdote of 
 the sailor, who, on being called on in a church to give to some charity, 
 dropped one dollar in the box, then added two more to "pay expenses." 
 
 Another department of the efforts of Mr. Brace, is the providing of homes 
 in the West for the poor seamstresses of the city, who are suffering for tho 
 want of employment. No sight is more affecting than that of virtuous, 
 friendless females, in the midst of the selfishness of a large city, struggling 
 to eke out a bare subsistence, by that most miserable, life-destroying and 
 illy-paid of all avocations the needle. 
 
 MISSION SCHOOLS arc Sabbath Schools, established in neighborhoods des 
 titute of gospel privileges. They form a nucleus, in their working, for the 
 formation of new churches. 
 
 The locality called " THE FIVK POINTS," so named from the fact that five 
 street s there corner, has been the most famous seat of degradation and woe 
 on this continent. Situated in the very heart of the metropolis, it was the 
 great plague-spot of moral pollution and death; a nauseous sink of filthy 
 poverty and beastly crime. Two noble institutions now stand upon tho 
 spot, "The Ladies Mission " and "The Five Points House of Industry." 
 
 That eminent laborer for the suffering poor, Mr. Lewis M. Pease, re 
 moved to the Five Points, with his wife, in the spring of 1850, and estab 
 lished there one Christian Home, with the hope of leavening this mass of 
 crime arid woe with the leaven of the gospel. There he labored with un 
 tiring zeal, visiting damp and polluted cellars, dark garrets, and dilapidated 
 
OF AMERICANS. 575 
 
 buildings, to aid the miserable wretches who appealed destitute of every 
 thing but filth and crime. 
 
 The wretched state of this spot, when Frederika Bremer wrote her 
 " Homes of the New World," is therein thus described by her : " Lower 
 than the Five Points," she says, " it is not possible for human nature to 
 gink. Quarrels and blows, theft and even murder, belong to the order of 
 the day and the night. There is in the square, in particular, one large, 
 yellow-colored, dilapidated old house, called The Old Brewery, which 
 is properly the head-quarters of vice and misery ; and the old Brewer of all 
 the world s misery has dominion there at this day. I wandered through 
 this dark realm of shadows and hell, however, accompanied by an angel of 
 
 light. I cannot otherwise speak of Mrs. G , the Quaker lady, whose 
 
 countenance was bright and beautiful as the purest goodness. . . . We 
 went alone through these hidden dens, considering it safer than in company 
 with a gentleman. We saw unfortunate women suffering from horrible dis 
 eases ; sickly children ; giddy young girls ; ill-tempered women, quarreling 
 with the whole world ; unabashed, hardened crime, filth, rags, and pesti 
 lential air. The off-scouring of society flows hither, and I wished to visit 
 the Five Points, that I might make a closer acquaintance with that portion 
 of the life of New York which belongs to the night side ; to the dark 
 realm of shadows and hell, as it exists in this great city." 
 
 The old Brewery to which Miss Bremer alludes, is alike famous and in 
 famous in song and story. It was erected in 1792, and used as a brewery by 
 one Coulter. In 1830, it was partitioned into oddly shaped, ill-contrived 
 apartments, so arranged as to afford convenient hiding-places for the thieves 
 and pickpockets, who herded at the Five Points. Over three hundred peo 
 ple, the filthiest and vilest of the scum of the city, dwelt in this building, 
 which was eventually purchased by the ladies, who destroyed the foul nest, 
 and reared upon its ruins their New Mission House. A vivid sketch of a 
 visit there in the day of its degradation, is herein extracted from a little 
 work called " The Old Brewery," published for the benefit of the Ladies 
 Mission : 
 
 " An alley extends all around the building, wide at the entrance and grad 
 ually tapering to a point. On the south, it is known as the Murderer s 
 Alley, a filthy path three feet in width. The dark, winding passages afford 
 convenient modes of escape for criminals. In the floor of one of the upper 
 rooms, a place was found where the boards had been sawed ; upon tearing 
 them up, human bones were found the remains, no doubt, of a victim of 
 some diabolical murder. 
 
 The upper part of the premises, once plastered, has now a broken wall, 
 mended in some places by pasting newspapers, but often revealing unsightly 
 holes. The under part is still worse ; in one room, fifteen feet square, we 
 found twenty-six human beings. \ man could scarcely stand erect in it ; two 
 men were sitting by the blaze of a few sticks, as we entered ; women lay on 
 a mass of filthy, unsightly rags, in the corner sick, feeble, and emaciated ; 
 six or seven children were in various attitudes in the corner ; at an old 
 talle, covered with a few dishes, two women were peeling off the skins of 
 tomatoes, with their finger-nails ; and the smoke and stench of the room 
 were too suffocating to be endured. The announcement that, in addition to 
 
576 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the misfortune of poverty, they had the measles also, started most of our 
 party in a precipitate retreat from the premises. 
 
 Our way had been explored over the building by the aid of a single lamp, 
 in company with two gentlemen and a guide. Beside these, there were a 
 number of rough looking customers, who appeared to share our interest in 
 the scene. But it was not till one of the gentlemen complained, in a dark 
 passage-way, of a strange hand in his pocket, that these characters wero 
 suspected. Then our guide informed us, in an under tone, that we were 
 surrounded by a gang of the most notorious pickpockets and thieves of that 
 section ; that we must take good care of our watches, or we should lose 
 them before we were aware. To grope one s way, at night, through such dark 
 passages, when the light was in sight only a part of the time, and to be 
 surrounded with a crowding, pushing gang of desperadoes, was not pleasant." 
 
 Much was said to deter the ladies from establishing a mission at the Five 
 Points. The idea of confronting this indescribable wretchedness, and ming 
 ling with drunkards, thieves, prostitutes, and murderers, was enough to 
 sicken and appall the most courageous. The ladies were told, that " no one, 
 who valued their life or honor, could venture within this murderous cess 
 pool of human wickedness." But Mr. Pease was willing to make the at 
 tempt ; and after much difficulty, they succeeded in hiring a gin-shop, at the 
 corner of Little- Water and Cross streets, which, when cleaned and prepared 
 for an audience, was capable of seating about two hundred persons. The 
 novelty of this effort secured them a congregation. Let us look in upon 
 Mr. Pease, the first Sabbath of his missionary labors. He is aided by the 
 pious ladies, who have entered upon this labor of love, with an unfailing 
 trust in the efficacy of the gospel to save the very chief of sinners. 
 
 The bell rings, and seventy little ragged and dirty urchins come tumbling 
 in ! Was ever such a Sabbath school collected in a Christian land ? The 
 idea of law and order was to them a thing unknown. They stood upon 
 their heads knocked each other down, arid, to the dismay of the kind 
 ladies, performed all kinds of feats in ground and lofty tumbling. Poor 
 little, degraded creatures heirs of kicks and neglect abandoned by parents, 
 or ruined, soul and body, by their vicious examples what better things 
 could be expected of them ? They could not believe that these kind ladies 
 really loved them, and that the missionary had come to try and make them 
 happy. In the language of the first report, " Mr. Pease preached the first 
 sermon to about as heterogeneous a mass of rags and filth as ever disgraced 
 humanity." 
 
 But out of all this chaos, harmony and order were by degrees established. 
 Intemperance, the greatest enemy of the mission, was met with temperance 
 songs, temperance speeches, and private visits and entreaties ; and during 
 the first year, some of those who had signed the temperance pledge, were 
 from the very dregs of the crowded inmates of the old Brewery. 
 
 At the close of the year, when Mr. Pease s services were no longer re 
 quired by the ladies, and Mr. Luckey was appointed to be their missionary, 
 an Industrial Establishment was opened by Mr. Pease. He believed that 
 many were driven to the wretched alternative of vice or starvation ; and 
 he felt that it was important to provide honest employment for those who 
 wore willing to live an honest life ; for employers were not willing to trust 
 
OF AMERICANS. 577 
 
 their work to these abandoned creatures, to be taken to a place which they 
 considered a den of thieves. If they could have the advantage of a work 
 shop by day, which would also give them a shelter by night, he felt that 
 those he was struggling to reform, would be beyond the reach of tempta 
 tion. 
 
 The whole work was then an experiment ; and there were those who felt 
 that Mr. Pease was turning aside from his missionary duties, and not placing 
 sufficient reliance on the efficacy of the gospel. But whatever may have 
 been tho cause of Mr. Pease s separation from the Ladies Mission, it is evi 
 dent that they could not have disapproved of his obeying the gospel re 
 quirement, to feed the hungry and clothe the naked ; for they have con 
 tinued to blend physical relief with their faithful efforts to convert the soul 
 to God. And now that two noble institutions, strong and mighty for good, 
 have followed this separation, we can but rejoice at the result. 
 
 Thousands of dollars were cheerfully given to build the " FIVE POINTS 
 HOUSE OF INDUSTRY." Work for the inmates, however, has never to a great 
 extent been forthcoming. Philanthropists and Christian manufacturers do 
 not wish to associate their business with the dregs of humanity ; and if 
 work is to be supplied, it must be done by removing the laborers to the 
 West, where there is enough work and bread for all. 
 
 We continue this sketch of American Philanthropy, by taking the reader, 
 in imagination, to Paradise Park, a small triangular space in the center of 
 the Five Points, upon the first occasion, when the friends of the mission 
 were obeying the injunction of the Saviour, to "make a feast and call the 
 poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind." 
 
 " The morning of Thanksgiving," writes one of the lady friends pre 
 sent, "dawned in cloudless beauty, and the cool bracing atmosphere and 
 glowing sunshine seemed to inspire every heart with courage. We met in 
 the office of the Old Brewery, a low, long room, with crooked and stained 
 walls. Its only furniture, beside the missionary book-case, being some 
 benches and the boxes of clothing, supplied by friends from abroad. Pro 
 visions began to arrive, and soon presented a ludicrous aspect. Turkeys, 
 chickens, and meats of every kind, mingled in confusion with cakes, pies, 
 fruit, etc. ; huge piles of clothing, waiting for distribution ; visitors pouring 
 in, and childish faces peeping through every window and open door ! 
 
 The mammoth tent of the City Temperance Society, was erected in the 
 little Park. It is circular, and very lofty. Around it were tiers of seats, 
 meeting at a platform. Some evergreens were festooned from tables the 
 length of the tent, arranged, leaving wide passages between for the visitors. 
 By this time, hundreds of ragged, dirty children had collected around tho 
 tent and the Old Brewery. A passage-way was cleared, and the ladies 
 and gentlemen were transformed into carriers and waiters. (We could not 
 trust the little rebels to help, though we had plenty of offers). As they 
 passed through rank and file of the hungry watchers, loud cheers were 
 given for every turkey, and three, long and loud, for a whole pig, with a 
 lemon in its mouth. . 
 
 During these preparations, the ladies were trying to select, first, our Sab 
 bath School children, and then any others who seemed hopeful. Theso 
 
578 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 were washed and dressed. At half past four, all was ready, and they en. 
 tered in procession, singing, 
 
 " The morn of hope is breaking 
 
 The darkness disappears : 
 
 For the Five Points are waking 
 
 To penitential tears ; " etc. 
 
 They took the circuit of the tent, then stood around the tables with 
 folded hands, while Mr. Luckey asked a blessing. Not a hand was raised ; 
 not a voice heard, till the food was served. Then all was glad commotion, 
 and then was the time for joyous tears. Three hundred and seventy poor, 
 neglected, helpless children, placed for an hour in an atmosphere of love and 
 gladness, woed and won to cling to those whose inmost hearts were strug 
 gling in earnest prayer for grace and wisdom to lead them unto God ! 
 With tearful eyes, the assembly gazed upon them. 
 
 " Children, who seldom know a parent s care, 
 
 In whom the woes of elder years are seen 
 Whose earliest steps must be upon a snare, 
 
 Unless some watchful stranger intervene, 
 A.nd stand those frail young things and the dark gulf, between." 
 
 In the central aisle, was placed the stand for toys and cornucopias of 
 candy, a gift for each of the children as they passed out the tent. Thero 
 was now an interval of a few moments. The tables were hastily replen 
 ished ; and then notice was given to visitors, that the outsiders would then 
 enter, about whom the ladies knew nothing, save that they were poor and 
 wretched. Visitors were warned to take care of their pocket-books and 
 watches. They came in scores ; nay, in hundreds ! and surrounded the 
 tables ; men, women, and children ; ragged, dirty, and forlorn ! What 
 countenances we read, 
 
 "Victims of ceaseless toil, and want, and care ! " 
 
 And the children who accompanied them, miniature likeness, both physi 
 cally and morally. Alas ! we could scarcely hope to snatch these from the 
 vortex ; but we spoke to them words of kindness, and they partook till not 
 a fragment was left. Sixty turkeys, chickens, geese, hams, beef, and tongue, 
 with pies, cake, fruit, and candy pyramids all had vanished ; then quietly 
 they left the tent. 
 
 Our weary company now hastened over to the Old Brewery, which was 
 illuminated from every window. With joy, we looked forward to the 
 happy day, when from this mission a light would emanate, both mental and 
 moral, of which this illumination would be only the foreshadowing and the 
 faint emblem " 
 
 Reader ! when you visit New York, and saunter down Broadway, amid 
 the refinements and luxuries ofc life, remember that three minutes walk will 
 bring you to the Five Points. Turn aside, and gaz* upon this region once 
 the central point of misery and crime; and as you view the two noble 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 structures that have been reared by Christian beneficence, reflect how much 
 poverty, distress, and crime have been prevented ! Enter that House of 
 Industry, and the New Mission House ; or visit the Astor Place, and see the 
 groups of little children, prepared by the Children s Aid Society for a land 
 of hope in the Far West it will all be an experience to you well worth 
 the having. 
 
 The Five Points Hous? of Industry is a noble structure seven stories 
 high, fire proof, and most admirably constructed. There is a fine children s 
 play room large and airy school-rooms and work rooms ; dormitories and 
 private rooms for the resident family and teachers. The entire number of 
 inmates, since its establishment, exceeds five thousand. Of these, twenty- 
 eight hundred, principally children, have found homes in the country. The 
 entire property of the institution, including a country farm which belongs to 
 it, amounts to sixty thousand dollars, including a recent bequest of twenty 
 thousand from M. Sickles, a devoted friend of the cause. 
 
 The scene which strikes the beholder, in the chapel of the Five Points 
 House of Industry, when all the little, fatherless ones are collected for wor 
 ship and instruction, is heart- touching. How vivid is the picture, as drawn 
 by one of their instructors, and copied below : 
 
 " On entering ths chapel, the long rows of children sitting erect upon 
 their elevated seats, meet my eager gaze ; and as I take my accustomed 
 place before them, they greet me with their sparkling eyes and sunny faces. 
 As my eye wanders involuntarily over the happy group, it soon rests upon 
 the laughing, curly-headed Jewish girl, known as Dummy. There she 
 sits, her intelligent face all wreathed with smiles, her heart all light with 
 sunshine, and warm with aifection. I love her dearly love her and so 
 do all who know her. A smile will make her countenance radiant with 
 delight, while a cold look, or frown, will fill her eyes with tears. Though 
 ihe cannot hear, her quick eye notices every motion. When the children 
 sing, though she cannot articulate a word, she opens her mouth as wide, and 
 makes her little lips move as fast as any of them ; and when, during 
 prayer, the children cover their eyes with their hands, she follows their ex 
 ample peeping between her fingers to see when it is finished. Her place 
 is never vacant. She is the first to greet me when I enter, and the last to 
 relinquish her hold upon my hand when I leave for home. That little tiny 
 thing by her side, with a face so round and ruddy, and beautifully vailed 
 with curling ringlets, is her sister Ella, two years younger than herself. 
 See how lovingly her little head is laid in Dummy s lap, while she twines 
 her glossy hair about her fingers. 
 
 A few seats above, sits a little blind girl. I never look upon her without 
 a feeling of sadness. She hears the children sing and answer questions, and 
 does the same herself, but their faces she never looked upon. The world is 
 all dark to her. Occasionally you will see her passing her hands over the 
 heads and faces of her young companions, and gently running her fingers 
 through their hair, thus trying to gain some knowledge of their appearance. 
 The children all love her, and vie with each other in their little acts of 
 kindness to her. When she wishes to come to school, some one is always 
 ready to lead her ; and when the hour arrives for going home, a score of 
 little hands are eagerly proffered for her acceptance. 
 37 
 
580 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 A noise at the door attracts the attention of the children, and my eyes 
 involuntarily turn with theirs, to discover its occasion. The utmost still 
 ness prevails, and a feeling of sympathy seems to pervade every heart, 
 while a little girl, poorly clad, with thin, gaunt face clouded witb sadness, 
 hobbles in on crutches, for she has but one leg. Last winter, while she ivaa 
 playing in Center street, the cars ran over her, and so mutilated one of her 
 legs that it had to be amputated. Poor child ! we all pity her, fur she has 
 her full share of affliction. The loss of a limb is bad enough the loss of 
 father and mother, in one s innocent, unprotected childhood, is worse ; but 
 the loss of their sympathy, their kind admonitions and good example, in 
 those tender years, while they still live cursed and cursing by rum, is in 
 comparably worse. When she joins with the children in their sweet songs, 
 the sadness of her little face occasionally gives place to sunshine ; but it is 
 only for a little while ; for when night comes, she must return again to her 
 home, made miserable by the intemperance of her parents. 
 
 Close up in the corner there, with her eyes as black as her face, and her 
 face as black as ebony, sits little Topsy. She is as cunning as a fox ; and 
 though she has seen but four years, she is as old as most girls three times 
 her age. No child in school is more orderly or attentive ; and once a day, 
 rain or shine, punctual to the hour, she may be seen in our second hall, stand 
 ing near the entrance of the bread-room, with a clean, white towel in one 
 hand ind a card in the other, on the back of which is written, in large let 
 ters, words which she cannot read, but the import of which she fully com 
 prehends. If not immediately waited upon, she does not become impatient : 
 for that mystic card, with its broad and truthful letters, assures her that her 
 wish will ere long be gratified. Soon the door to the bread-room opens ; 
 there stands Topsy, her eyes sparkling with delight, holding high up to tho 
 gaze of the envious urchins, the magic card, on which is written : The bearer 
 is entitled to one loaf of bread per day. Topsy s mother lives in a dark 
 and fearful place, in Cow-bay. She occupies a little room in an old, tum 
 ble down building, with none but thieves and abandoned women around 
 her, whose drunken brawls make the night hideous. Though compelled by 
 poverty to live in such a place, she is almost always happy, and especially 
 when she has succeeded, by scrubbing or washing, in earning sufficient to 
 pay the rent of her little room and supply her with the most common ne 
 cessities of life. 
 
 On the seat close by Topsy, with her sister sleeping in her arms, sits a 
 little black-eyed French girl. She is poorly chid, but her heart is rich in 
 sisterly affection. Love sits laughing on her countenance, and makes even 
 the bitterness of poverty sweet. Her eyes are fixed upon the speaker s, ex 
 cept when an occasional glance is given to her little charge. 
 
 Sitting close by my side, and playing alternately with my watch-chain, 
 my buttons, and my fingers, and then rubbing her soft, silken hair against 
 my hands, is a little, fat dumpling, with rosy cheeks. She is a dear little 
 creature as affectionate and playful as a kitten with a voice as sweet and 
 musical as the birds of spring, and a heart just as full as it can hold of sym 
 pathy and love. She has a little brother, almost exactly like her, and two 
 years older than herself. Their mother is dead, and their father has left 
 them to the charity of strangers, and gone back to England. They would 
 
OF AMERICANS. 581 
 
 have been adopted long ago, had it not been that little Ella, while she pos 
 sesses so many desirable qualities, has lost the sight of one of her eyes. Is 
 there not some mother, whose little ones Our Father has taken to himself, 
 who would like to fill their places with our dear one-eyed Ella and her 
 brother Johnny? 
 
 Turning my eyes toward the audience, a lad of fourteen attracts my at 
 tention. He looks so much like one of our House boys. Can it be yes, 
 it is Freddy ! But he has on a new suit of clothes, and looks so different, 
 I hardly know him. He is constantly looking in the face of the gentleman 
 beside him, and they both seem very happy. Last Sunday he sat among 
 the children, with his face clouded by the uncertainty of his future destiny ; 
 to-day a different spirit seems to possess him. What can it mean ? Let us 
 listen, for he is about to tell his own story. Freddy, says Mr. Pease, 
 would you like to tell us your history, and bid good-by to the children ? 
 Freddy, with a fluttering heart and a tear in his eye, comes upon the plat 
 form. I never made a speech in my life ; but I shall never see you again, 
 and I want to tell you a short sketch of my history. My first recollection 
 was living with my father and mother in the City of London. They were 
 rich, and I had everything that I wanted ; but after awhile, my father in 
 dorsed for a friend, and lost a great deal of money ; soon after which we 
 moved to New York, and lived in Canal street. We got along well for a 
 little while, but soon everything went wrong ; for father began to drink, 
 and then we went down, and down ! till we were very poor. 
 
 We then went to Chicago, but there father drank harder than ever. One 
 day he went out, leaving us cold and hungry. He never came back again ; 
 for the cholera and hard drinking killed him. After father s death, mother 
 grieved so that she soon followed him ; and then I was left all alone. I had 
 nc money or friends ; but I thought if I could only get back to London, I 
 could find friends who knew father when he was rich, and they would help 
 me. I worked my passage from Chicago to New York. When I got here, 
 I wandered around the wharfs, into the shipping-offices, and on board the 
 ships ; but nobody wanted me, because I was a strange boy, and had no 
 recommendations. I was poor didn t have a penny, or any place to sleep in 
 but the station-house, or around the docks ; and at last I sat down on the 
 wharf and cried. While I was crying, some one told me to go to Mr. 
 Pease s. I didn t know where it was, but a policeman told me, and after 
 awhile I found it. Mr. Pease spoke kindly to me, and told me I could 
 come here to live, and he would be like a father to me. My heart was so 
 full I couldn t speak, and I had to sit down and cry. I couldn t help it. I 
 have been here a few weeks, and have learned to love Mr. and Mrs. Pease, 
 and the teachers and children. Yesterday that gentleman came here and 
 adopted me, and said I should be his boy, and that he would take me to 
 his home in the West, and make a man of me perhaps a lawyer, like him 
 selfif I would be a good boy. I mean to try and be the best boy I can. 
 Children, many of you have no father or mother ; but if }^ou are good, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Pease will be your father and mother. children, try and be good 
 And now, good-by ; for I shan t see you any more. Good-by, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Peace good-by, kind teachers! And then the manly little fellow, de 
 scending from the platform, took each by the hand, bidding them good-by 
 
582 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 in such a kind, touching manner, that many eyes filled with tears, and every 
 heart was moved with tender emotion." 
 
 To this word-painting of the scene in the chapel, we add another from one 
 of those faithful missionaries, describing a scene but too common in their 
 errands of mercy in search of the neglected little outcasts, to bring them 
 within the warm, loving folds of their noble institution : 
 
 " In the after-part of a bleak December day, as I sat within my office, tho 
 storm raging without, and my mind dwelling upon the distress it must :n- 
 evitably occasion to the thousands of unprotected poor, I chanced to re 
 member two little ones, the children of drunken parents, who lived a few 
 doors away. 
 
 I had often found them in great want, and was fearful they might now 
 be in need of some kind attention ; so putting on my overcoat, I started for 
 that habitation of misery. The house in which they lived had, for the 
 neighborhood, quite a decent exterior appearance ; but within, almost every 
 conceivable abomination existed. In reaching their room, I passed through 
 a long, filthy hall, blackened by smoke, and by poisonous gases arising from 
 stagnant water and heaps of decaying vegetable matter, that had for years 
 been accumulating in the cellar. 
 
 1 rapped at the door, but heard no reply. I rapped again, and again, till 
 finally some one, in a half-choked voice, said, Come in. My hand had 
 already found the string ; I pulled it, and found my way into a small room, 
 half under ground. The low, dingy walls were covered with cobwebs, and 
 its only window broken to pieces. The three lower lights were boarded 
 up, and all but two of the remainder stuffed with old hats and rags. No 
 ray of God s sunshine ever penetrated that filthy abode. 
 
 On entering the room, my attention was first attracted by an overturned 
 stove, with lids, pipes, soot, coals and ashes scattered about the floor. The 
 ill-matched, rust-eaten pipe, in falling, had knocked down an old picture- 
 frame, and shivered the last bit of a looking-glass, which had been pre 
 served as a relic of better days. 
 
 On the dirty floor, in the midst of this scene of confusion, with legs ex 
 tended, and almost naked, feet bare, and his whole body shaking with cold, 
 sat one of the objects of my visit, a boy five years old. He was holding in 
 his lap a half-rotten head of cabbage, from which he kept picking, and 
 greedily eating the frozen leaves. So intent was he on satisfying his appe 
 tite, that he scarcely noticed my entrance. Scattered around him were the 
 contents of an old basket, from which he had made his selection. They 
 were decayed potatoes, frozen apples, and turnips, pigs ears and calves 
 feet ; and among a variety of other things, a sheep s head, with its eyes 
 staring right at me. These things were collected by the mother, either by 
 begging or stealing them from the gutters of Washington Market. Here 
 was not all the fruits of her day s labor, for on her way home she had 
 stopped, as was her custom, at a vile, penny soup-house, and parted with 
 the choicest bits for rum. 
 
 A few feet removed from the boy, and nearly behind the door, sat the 
 mother, in an old rickety chair, her head fallen back, her eyes closed, her 
 mouth wide open, her hair disheveled about her face and neck, her arma 
 hanging by her side, and her breath labored. Oh ! what a mockery of God s 
 
OF AMERICANS. 583 
 
 fmage ! what a terrible wreck of his beautiful handiwork ! Leaning against 
 her, bare-footed, half-clad, dirty and ragged, folding to her shivering bosom 
 a dry loaf of bread, stood a wan, sunken-eyed girl, only three years old, 
 She cast on me a look of recognition, took the bread in her skeleton fingers, 
 extended it toward me, a smile lighting up her sad and sickly features, and 
 exclaimed: I ve got bread! That smile was meteor-like; it lingered 
 but a moment, then vanished leaving her face darker than before. Sho 
 dropped her head, pressed the bread back to her bosom again, drew a long 
 breath, and sighing said, Mother s drunk. My breast swelled with intense 
 agony. I could not refrain from exclaiming aloud, God ! what has this 
 little child done, that a smile, thus cheaply purchased, must so soon be 
 driven away by the consciousness of a mother s shame ? 
 
 Childhood ! man s common, yet unconscious, foretaste of heaven last 
 relic of his Eden state what immeasurable guilt must rest on those who 
 spoil thy young years, or leave thee to be thus fearfully outraged. 
 
 These little innocents were taken to the House of Industry, and carefully 
 cared for ; but neglect and want had so weakened their hold on life, that 
 they were soon added to the number of the little ones above." 
 
 The Ladies Mission, at the Five Points, continues to be eminently suc 
 cessful. They have labored faithfully to reform the vicious, and to bring 
 all under their influence. Let us follow one of these ladies to the home of 
 
 a dying mother. Mrs. D hastened to her bedside. Kissing her hands 
 
 again and again, she said, " I am about to leave you, my dear friend, and 
 I wish you to take care of my orphans." The promise was given, and 
 faithfully performed through the Children s Aid Society. Some one pro 
 posed to call the priest. " No, no ! " she said ; " the Lord Jesus is with me. 
 Let i;hcre be no wake over my body no liquor drank when I am buried ! " 
 This charge was given to her husband ; and then she continued communing 
 with God. 
 
 The mother was laid in the grave ; and deep was the solicitude of that 
 lady s heart for the children thus solemnly committed to her care. The 
 only hope for their future well-being, was to transplant these young immor 
 tals to a more congenial soil, and to a better atmosphere, than that of tho 
 Five Points. A happy home was offered by Mr. Brace, who pledged him 
 self that the Children s Aid Society should kindly cherish the little or 
 phans, and seek out a new home for them in the Great West. Their ticket 
 had been secured, and while waiting, Barney, one of the children, was told 
 of a poor boy departing under less favorable circumstances to the West, 
 who became one of the chief judges in the State in which he resided. The 
 boy s eye kindled, his form straightened, and he exclaimed, " You shall 
 see, sir, what I will become !" Yes, we shall see : for the Children s Aid 
 Society will not cease to care for these little orphans. 
 
 In their last report, Mr. Brace writes : " The year past has been peculiarly 
 valuable in furnishing us proofs, which only time could furnish, of the re 
 sult of placing children in new homes. This, we regard as the most im 
 portant branch of our enterprises. Two or more letters have been written 
 to every one of the two thousand and odd children, whose addresses are yet 
 known, and the replies of those received, in the great majority of cases, 
 have been most encouraging and hopeful. 
 
584 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 This correspondence shows what simple kindness can do for the out 
 cast. The poor vagabond boy, or the child whom misfortune has made 
 wretched and homeless, goes to a quiet country home. He is not under a 
 s.\ stem ; he is not put by name as a vagrant ; ho is not mingling with others 
 who are as miserable, and perhaps more unprincipled than himself. He does 
 not feel himself the member of an asylum, where, at the best, with tha 
 kindest officers, the care can only be general and public. lie is one of a 
 little Christian family. He sits at the same table with the farmer s family, 
 and goes to school with his children ; his habits are closely watched by 
 them, and he watches theirs. He hears the morning prayer; he reads the 
 sweet story of old, with his little companions ; he learns what they think 
 to be proper and right. Perhaps, as we often hear from our letters, the poor 
 lad, remembering the dirty cellars, and the alleys filled with garbage, and 
 the filthy holes of the great city, wonders with delight at the great orchards, 
 and the lilacs, and the green grass, and the pure air, of his new home. 
 Soon, perhaps for the first time in his life, LOVE begins to encircle the little 
 castaway, and he feels, at length, there is somebody in the world who cares 
 for him. What wonder, if sometimes the soul of the young vagrant, in 
 this new atmosphere, as plants under spring sunlight, blossoms forth sud 
 denly, with such fair flowers as we do not see spring at once in other classes 
 of life. Some of our letters seem to point to this ; letters so personal that 
 we are not at liberty to publish thorn." 
 
 Of the tens of thousands of destitute children in New York, how many 
 might thus be provided with happy homes, if the interest of the humane 
 and Christian public could be enlisted in their behalf ! 
 
 " This association," says Mr. Brace, "has sprung from the increasing senso 
 .among our citizens of the evils of the city. Thirty years ago, the proposal 
 of an important organization, which should devote itself entirely to the class 
 of vagrant, homeless, and criminal children in New York, would have 
 seemed absurd. There were vile streets, and destitute and abandoned peo 
 ple ; but the city was young and thriving. Wealth and Christian enter 
 prise had centered here ; and the scum of poverty, it was thought, would 
 soon be floated off through the thousand channels of livelihood over the 
 whole country. No one would have believed, that in less than half a cen 
 tury, a London, St. Giles, or Spitalfields, would have grown up in New 
 York. 
 
 But the schedule of the City Prison, in the year 1852, gave sixteen thou 
 sand criminals ; and of these, four thousand were under twenty-one years 
 of age ; and the next year, by the estimate of the police, there were nearly 
 ciglit thousand arrests of minors. 
 
 Crime among children has become organized as it never was previously 
 in this country. The police state, that picking pockets is a profession 
 among a certain class of boys. They have their haunts, their flash lan 
 guage, their decoys, and coverers, as they are called, or persons who will 
 entice others where they can be plundered, and protect the thieves, if they 
 are caught. There is another class of young lads, known as feelers, who are 
 employed by older rogues to ascertain the best places for committing theii 
 depredations. Cotton picking, on the wharves; iron stealing, in dry docks ; 
 smashing baggage, under pretense of carrying it; and book bluffing. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 585 
 
 a kind of a mock book-selling, are all means of a livelihood for dishonest, 
 poor boys of New York. 
 
 Of the young girls in the city, driven to dishonest means of living, it is 
 most sad to speak. Privation, crime, and old debasement,. in the pure and 
 sunny years of childhood, is a shocking spectacle which we daily witness. 
 Many of these street-children are not engaged in dishonest business. There 
 are thousands of German children, whose sole occupation is picking rags 
 and bones in the street to sell. Others sell fruit, or sweep the streets, for a 
 living. And although their employment is honest, the roving vagabond 
 life of such children, exposes them to every temptation, and leads to the 
 worst habits. Among the little traders of the city, the news-boys rank 
 among the shrewdest and sharpest of all. This class numbers several hun 
 dred boys, of different ages, who live entirely by the sale of papers. Be 
 fore this Association had provided a lodging room for them, they slept in 
 boxes, printing-house alleys, and wherever they could find a shelter." 
 
 In making his first appeal to the public, in behalf of these different 
 classes of poor children, Mr. Brace remarked : " These boys and girls, it 
 should be remembered, will soon form the great lower class of our city. 
 They will influence elections they may shape the policy of New York 
 they will assuredly, if unreclaimed, poison society all around them. They 
 will help to form the great multitude of robbers, thieves, and vagrants, who 
 are now such a burden on the law respecting community." To prevent or 
 remove this great moral evil, the Children s Aid Society have sought to 
 promote the education, the employment, and permanent change of character of 
 the children of the poor. A few extracts from the Reports of the Teachers 
 in tho Industrial Schools, will show how much has been accomplished in 
 this department of labor, which has enlisted the sympathy of all who are 
 able to appreciate the sad fate of these poor girls, so exposed to all the 
 temptations of a large city. 
 
 One of these schools is intended for German girls. " These, from igno 
 rance of our language, poverty of parents, or indifference to its necessity, are 
 unable, or unwilling, to attend the public schools. A good dinner is pro 
 vided them, with meat three times a week, which a certain number of the 
 older girls assist the matron in preparing. It is affecting to learn of instances 
 where hungry little ones have asked permission to take home a portion of 
 their dinner to a sick parent, or a little brother or sister. They are taught 
 to Jo general housework, to wash and iron such articles as are used in the 
 school, and to keep the house in order. In the afternoons, they are taught 
 to sew upon garments, which they earn as rewards for good behavior. Each 
 child is required to take a thorough bath once a week. The principal, 
 Miss Reed, is assisted by sixty volunteer teachers, ladies of the city. Most 
 of these receive one child on Saturday at their own homes, to teach some 
 nicer kind of work, and awaken her religious feelings through personal in 
 tercourse." 
 
 " Here, woman may find her true mission ; and the individual influence 
 thus exerted, is soon apparent in the homes of these children. The hearts 
 of these noblo women are often cheered by finding the most wretched 
 hovels assuming an appearance of order and comparative cleanliness. 
 Coarse, rough men will gather with delight around their little ones, to 
 
586 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 listen to the sweet songs learned at school, and to admire the neat gar 
 ments the fruit of their own industry. The uncouth, rough manners of 
 these vagrant children, under such influences, become subdued. They learn 
 that there is a higher pleasure in store for them, than filling their baskets 
 with refuse, from the rich man s table, or idly basking in the warm sunshine 
 on his door-steps. " 
 
 These Industrial Schools supply a place which no other schools have 
 done forming a connecting link between the lowest poor and the rich, and 
 bringing a personal influence to bear on the children of poverty and crime. 
 A few incidents will show that these self-denying efforts have had a reflex 
 influence, and yielded a rich reward to those engaged in the good work. 
 
 One visitor says : " We started out, a wintery afternoon, to see some of 
 our scholars, in the Fourth Ward. We enter a narrow door- way, wind 
 through a dark passage, arid are at the door of a filthy, close room. We 
 are in search of a German rag-picker, who has a child in the school. There 
 is one window, a small stove, and two or three chairs. The little girl looks 
 neat and healthy. I pick rags, says the mother, and I cannot send her to 
 the public school ; it is a great help to me, that you can teach her. I am 
 away from home all day, and if she did not go there, she would have to be 
 in the streets all day. 
 
 Here, beyond, is an old house. We climb the shaking stairs, up to the 
 attic, a front room, with one window in the roof. Very chill and bare, 
 but floor well swept. A little hump-backed child, reading very busily, on 
 the floor, and another scrubbing on the other side. The mother is Irish. 
 We asked about the little, deformed child. Och ! she is such a swate one ! 
 She always lamed very quick, since her accident, and I am very thankful 
 to the ladies for what they re teaching her God bless them ! Shure, an 1 
 its niver won of the schools I could sind ? em to. 1 had no clo s or shoes 
 for em, an its the truth, I m just living an no more. 
 
 Another home of poverty, dark, damp, and chill. The mother, an Eng 
 lish woman ; her child had gone to school barefooted, and we found that 
 she had been sent, in the cold nights, to the brothels, with fruits to sell. I 
 know, she said, it is wrong she ought to have as good a chance as other 
 people s children. But I m so poor ! I haven t paid a month s rent ; and L 
 was sick three weeks. I know the city, and I would rather have her in 
 the grave than brought down to those cellars. But what can I do ? 
 
 The society will find a place for the little girl in the country, if ghe 
 wishes. In the meantime, we engage her to keep the child at school. Our 
 little guide shows us another home of one of our scholars a prostitute s 
 cellar. An elder sister comes to the door, and with a shame-faced look, 
 promises that she shall come to school every day. We tell her the general 
 object of the society, and of the good, kind home which can be found for her 
 sister in the country. She seems glad, and her face, which must have been 
 pretty once, lights up; perhaps at the thought, for her sister, of what sho 
 shall never more have a pure home. Within the room, two or three 
 sailors, sitting at their bottles, seemed to understand what we are doing. 
 One of them says, very respectfully, Yes, that s it ! Git the little girl out 
 of this ! It aint no place for her. " 
 
 We give one more incident Mr. Brace has recorded of the good alread* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 5S7 
 
 accomplished by the Industrial Schools. "I was going down Ninth street, 
 on the east side, lately, when I met a little girl, very poor, but with such ? 
 sweet, sad expression, that I involuntarily stopped and spoke to her. She 
 answered my questions very clearly, but the heavy, sad look never left her 
 eyes for a moment. She had no father or mother took care of the chil 
 dren herself sewed on check-shirts and made a living for them. And yet 
 the child was only thirteen years of age! I went to the lo\v, damp base 
 ment, which she calls her home. She lives there with the three little ones, 
 and the elder sick brother, who sometimes picks up a trifle to aid in their 
 support. She had been washing for the family. She almost thought she 
 might take in washing now ; and the little ones, with their knees to their 
 mouths, crouched up before the stove, looked as if there could not be a 
 doubt of sister s doing anything she tried. Well, Annie, how do you 
 make a living now ? I sews on check-shirts, sir, and ttnnnel shirts ; I 
 gets five cents for the check, and nine cents for the others ; but they wont 
 let me have the flannel any more, because I can t deposit two dollars. It 
 must be very hard work ? Oh, I don t mind that, sir ; but to-day they say 
 we d better all go to the poor-house ; but if I only had candles, I would sit 
 up late till ten or eleven o clock and make shirts, and with the help of 
 the neighbors, I could keep the little things together. She had learned all 
 she knew at the Industry School, and she now sends her little sisters there. 
 I went into the little back room, to the one bed, where the whole five slept ; 
 the walls damp only two thin coverlids for warmth. Their fuel had been 
 picked up in the streets ; but we never begged she said. I left some 
 stores for Sunday ; a kind friend has given us money for Christmas presents > 
 and to-morrow she shall be supplied, if possible, with work, and the two 
 dollars to deposit. As I went out, the cold, wintery wind blew fiercely by. 
 1 thought of the weary, sad look, which had not changed during the visit. 
 I thought of the thousand warm, comfortable homes, this cold night, and 
 the happy children, and then of this brave little heart, in the damp cellar 
 the child made old by poverty. God bless thee, little Annie, for a true, 
 staunch soul ! May thy day of life not be so weary as thy young morning." 
 " The News Boys," like other mercantile professors, have their jobbers and 
 their wholesale dealers. These last are older lads, who buy papers by the 
 hundred, and give them to smaller boys to sell on commission. "In their 
 various business transactions," says Mr. Tracy, the gentleman who has 
 charge of the News Boys Lodging-Room, "there is one law which is well 
 understood, and often executed upon the delinquent, arid that is punching. 
 When a boy has bought papers on a credit, borrowed money, or sold for an 
 other, and fails to meet his account, he gets an awful punching. When 
 selling for another, if he should happen to step out, with a few shillings, 
 a condign punishment of punching awaits him. Sometimes the delinquent 
 is followed up to the Bowery or National Theater, where a settlement is 
 made in a summary manner. They earn their money easily average 
 profits, from three to four shillings a day, and on Sundays, often sixteen 
 shillings. The calamity which brings sorrow to a whole community, is 
 often a rich harvest to them. On the day when the first news of the Arctic 
 came, many deposited five dollars, as a day s earnings, in the Savings Bank 
 of the Lodging- House. Yet the boys joined in the general feeling. Thej 
 
588 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 discussed over the warm stove, after school hours, the conduct of Captaiu 
 Luce, and the cowardly sailors, as much as any of us. One looked really 
 solemn, as he told of a lady in an upper part of the street, who had rushed 
 out after one of his extras, and then shrieked and wept, as she saw a name 
 on the list. Isn t it awful ? said he, I do hope he ain t lost, Mr. Tracy ! 
 But although these little ragged merchants can earn money easily, yet wrong 
 calculations or bankruptcy have usually left them hungry in the streets, 01 
 vagrants in the City Prison." 
 
 A few incidents will give our readers some idea of the mode of life and 
 character of the New York news-boys. " Mr. Tracy brought to our office," 
 says Mr. Brace, "a few da} r s since, a little boy, of twelve or thirteen, with a 
 singularly sharp, old face the type of so many child-faces we continually 
 meet, worn and whetted by this incessant rubbing of the street-life in a great 
 city. He had been to the Lodging-House, and the night before had came 
 in with two suspicious looking boys, whose lodging he paid, and MY. T. 
 suspected they were trying to pluck him. Where are you from? my 
 boy. Patterson, sir. What made you leave your home ? Me mother 
 drinks, and me father, he licks me, when he s drunk. * How long since 
 you run away? Three years, sir; for a while I worked with a farmer, 
 en Long Island ; then I went to selling papers at the ferries, and slept in 
 boxes, and the old cars at the Erie station. I have sometimes made six 
 shillings a day, and I don t know how I used to spend it. Mr. Tracy has 
 got ten shillings of mine now. Well, I see them two boys, and they had 
 nothing to eat, cause they d been off on a lay (i. e., thieving), in the rail 
 road. They went sixty or seventy miles south, they said, so as to get into 
 the country, where it was warm enough to sleep out o nights ; but they 
 couldn t steal long, cause the conductor, he sent em back. Then I got em 
 both a supper, and paid their lodging, which was only six pence a piece. 
 Don t you know that those two boys were trying to sound you? They 
 would soon have stripped you of everything. The boy seemed to feel 
 that we were his friends; but he believed he could not go back to his 
 home ; he would stay in New York, and try to live on his own hook. 
 
 James was one of the most honorable of our little news-boys. He had a 
 handsome face, rich brown hair, a large, dark eye, and very winning, frank 
 expression. He became tired of his wandering life, and Mr. Tracy brought 
 him to the office to get a place in the country. He talked very openly ; 
 said he had enough of New York, and wanted to be a farmer. Have you 
 no home, James ? No, I havn t. Where are your father and mother ? 
 Havn t got no father and mother, and the large tears forced themselves 
 through the child s eyes, and ran down his cheeks. We did not question 
 him more ; Mr. T. knew the sad story of this friendless boy his bitter, 
 weary, and lonely childhood, and his yearning for some spot, which he could 
 call his home. There was a rough, hearty old farmer in the office, at the 
 time, who liked the boy, and took him. We give his first letter from his 
 new home : 
 
 My dear friends : I am much indebted for your kindness to me. I think 
 I a-n one of the most fortunate of your boys. I had not been here long, 
 when I had a great many presents in clothing all new from the store. I 
 have plenty to eat, and live like one of the family shall stay till I am 
 
OF AMERICANS. 589 
 
 eighteen, then Mr. V is going to give me a trade. When I came here, 
 
 I did not know how to work now, I can work a little, and I mean to do 
 all I am able. I like the country thought I would not like it all, but now 
 I see the difference : instead of running about selling papers, and living in 
 the midst of wickedness, I am in the quiet, pleasant country. I would give 
 my advice to any boy that sells papers, or any other boy running about the 
 streets of New York, to go to the Children s Aid Society, and Mr. Brace 
 will find a place for them to go into the country. Give my best respects to 
 
 the Trustees. When you write, direct care of Mr. V C , N. J. 
 
 Yours truly, JAMES. " 
 
 An amusing scene occurred at the Lodging-Room, on the occasion of tho 
 first opening of their bank, which the news-boys had voted to keep closed an 
 entire month. Mr. Tracy was expecting some friends, and hoped that they 
 might induce the boys to deposit something in the six-penny bank. They 
 grew impatient, and filled up the time in all manner of sharp-shooting. 
 
 " I move that the boy as has most tin in the bank, shall give Us a treat," 
 said one little fellow, mounted on a desk (immense applause.) 
 
 " I move, coffee and cakes ! " 
 
 11 1 go in for that." 
 
 " Half past seven ; Mr. Tracy, open sesame !" 
 
 " I move that the bank be opened !" 
 
 "How much have you got in sixpence ?" 
 
 " Boys, be seated ! " exclaims Mr. Tracy. 
 
 Older boys to smaller "You keep order, there." 
 
 "Now," says Mr. Tracy, "I will call the numbers, and I propose that 
 Mike counts the money." 
 
 " No, no, sir ! " arose in a shout ; " let every boy finger his own money." 
 
 Mr. Tracy proceeded to call the numbers. "No. 1?" "Absent; getting 
 dinner." 
 
 " No. 2 ? " "Here I be, sir." 
 
 "No. 3?" "Gone, dead." 
 
 "No. 4 ? " "At his country seat, gettin his winter lodgin ." (House of 
 Refuge.) 
 
 " No. 5? " " Gone to heaven ! " 
 
 " No. 6 ? " " My eyes ! what a stock of pennies Barney has ! Count 
 it hurry up two pounds two shillings ! " "I make a move," says Barney, 
 (having got his own money), " that now the bank be closed." 
 
 " No. 7? " " Got a check for poor house ? " 
 
 "No. 8?" "Gone to sleep. Go ahead." 
 
 " No. 9? " " Put on your shirt, Paddy, and get your money ! " 
 
 This kind of running fire was kept up till the close, when it was found 
 that some had as high as ten or eleven dollars in the bank, and the whole 
 amount of their savings was sixty-nine dollars. Great excitement prevailed, 
 when one boy proposed to close their bank for another month. The uproar 
 increased, as if the loudest lungs would carry it. The superintendent, Mr. 
 Tracy, quieted them, and said, " Boys, you know that this is } T our affair ; I 
 shall do as you decide ; but you had better vote, and not make all this noise 
 about it." The result was a tie. 
 
500 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Barney, one of the smartest, jumped upon a bench, and made a speech in 
 stump-orator style. He called upon them to come up to their duty, like 
 men and cit.zens of a great republic. He denounced the other party. 
 " What right have those coves to vote ? They never had nothing in the 
 bank, feller citizens ! They haint got their papers ! " etc., etc. 
 
 Mr. Tracy proposed that the house divide. As arguments would not do, 
 the big boys tried to pull the small ones over to their side. At length, it 
 was decided that those who had never put anything in, should not vole, 
 and the bank was closed till the first of December. 
 
 All were pleased with the mysterious influence of the bank, when they 
 assembled, after driving, sharp bargains at the different clothing establish 
 ments. Some had overcoats, for which they paid from four to six dollars ; 
 others jaunty caps, others pants, good flannel shirts, and warm vests. On 
 the whole, the investments were judicious, and the society rejoiced at these 
 first steps toward respectability, for six months previous, a flannel shirt of 
 three months wear, unchanged, had been the principal garment of the 
 corps. 
 
 The effort to provide honest employment in the city for poor children, is 
 the only branch of the society s labors that has not proved successful. In 
 the Fourth Ward, a class of girls was formed to bind shoes. This, for a 
 while, seemed to go on very well. In addition to binding, several thousand 
 pairs of shoes were pegged by the children. But suddenly a machine was 
 invented to do the work faster and cheaper. Then the making of paper 
 bags, with a similar result. Then came the vearing of cane-chair bottoms. 
 But when the girls found that they earned more in the streets, as rag 
 pickers, the thing had to be dropped. That business man who would give 
 employment to these young girls, would do more to save wretched young 
 creatures from prostitution, than philanthropists or preachers, thus far, have 
 been able to do. 
 
 A sketch of one of these poor girls, will show how greatly honest employ 
 ment is needed. Mr. Brace was sent for, by the matron of the Toomtw, to 
 visit a young German girl, of fourteen years, committed for vagrancy. We 
 give the details in his own graphic language. "On entering those soiled and 
 gloomy Egyptian archways, I could but associate the low columns and lotus 
 capitals with the sombre and miserable history of the place. After a short 
 waiting, the girl was brought in. She had a slight figure, and a face intelli 
 gent and old for her years. The story she told with a wonderful eloquence, 
 which thrilled to our hearts. It seemed then like the first articulate voice 
 from the great poor class of our city. It may jar our refined sensibilities, 
 but we ought to hear it. 
 
 Her eye had a hard look, at first, but softened when I addressed her in 
 the German language. How long have you been in the Toombs, and why 
 are you here ? 
 
 I will tell you, sir; I have been here two days. I was working out. I 
 had to get up early and go to bed late, and I never had any rest. The lady 
 worked me always, and at last, because I could not do everything, she beat 
 me like a dog, and I ran away. I could not bear it ! The manner of this 
 was wonderfully passionate arid eloquent. 
 
 4 But I thought you were arrested for being near a place of bad character. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 591 
 
 I am going to tell you, sir. The next day I went with my father to get 
 my clothes, and the lady would not give them up, and what could we do ? 
 My father is a poor old man, who picks rags in the streets, and lie said, I 
 don t want you to be a rag-picker. You are not a child now people will 
 look at you you will come to harm. 
 
 And I said, No, father, I will help you. We must do something, now I 
 *m out of a place. So I picked rags all day, and did not make much ; and 
 at night I was cold and hungry. Toward night a gentleman met me a 
 ver\ r fine, well dressed gentleman American, and he said, Will you go with 
 me ? And I said, No ! But when he said, I will give you twenty shillings, 
 I told him I would go. The next morning I was taken up by the officer. 
 
 Poor girl, said the matron, what a sin it was ! Had you forgotten your 
 mother ? 
 
 No, I did remember her then. She had no clothes, and I have no 
 shoes, and only this thin dress, and a cold winter coming on. I have had 
 to take care of myself ever since I was ten years old, and never had a 
 cent given me. It may be a sin, sir [here the tears rolled down her cheeks] ; 
 I do not ask you to forgive it. Men cannot forgive, but God will forgive. 
 I know about men. The rich do such things, and worse, and no one says 
 anything against them. But I, sir, I AM POOR [this she said with a tone 
 which struck the very heart-strings] . Many is the day I have gone hun 
 gry from morning till night, because I did not dare spend a cent or two the 
 only ones I had. Oh, I have sometimes wished to die. Why does not 
 God kill me? 
 
 She was choked by her sobs, and when she became calm, and was told of 
 our plan of finding her a good home, where she could make an honest 
 living, she seemed mistrustful. I will tell you, Meinne llerrn, I know men, 
 and I do not believe any one I have been cheated so often. I am net a 
 child : in fourteen years, I have lived as long as people twice as old ! 
 
 But you do not wish to stay in prison ? 
 
 God, no ! 0, there is such a weight on my heart here ! Why was 
 I ever born. I have such Jcummerniss (woes) here, [she pressed her hands 
 to her heart] / am poor ! 
 
 We talked with the matron. She had often seen children in the Toombs 
 of nine or ten years, as old as young women, but this was a remarkable 
 oi rl. It was, undoubtedly, her first offense. We obtained her release, and 
 she consented to leave the city. But before wo took her to our office, we 
 went to her cabin, that she might first see her parents. 
 
 She asked in broken English of us, 4 Don t you think, better for poor girls 
 to die than live ? 
 
 Mr. G said something kindly to her about a good God. 
 
 She shook her head ; No ; no good God ! Why much suffer, if good 
 God ? 
 
 After much trouble, we reached the house or the den of the rag 
 picker. The parents were very grateful that she was to start the next morn 
 ing for a country home, where, perhaps, they will finally join her. For my- 
 self, the evening shadow seemed more somber, and the cheerful home-lights 
 lees cheerful, as I walked home, thinking of such a history." 
 
 In the European Reformatory Institutions, this plan is adopted on a very 
 
592 ADVENTUKES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 limited scale, as emigration to distant countries is so burdensome in expense 
 "Norway and Sweden," says Mr. Brace, "are the only countries that have 
 carried out the system of placing destitute and criminal youth in families, 
 and with the same happy result as the Children s Aid Society." Hov. 
 trifling is the expense incurred by sending these children to the country, 
 compared with the expense and punishment of crime in the city. Even a 
 child cannot be arrested, held in the Toombs, tried, and afterward confined 
 for a year, at less than one hundred and seventy-five or two hundred dol 
 lars. Eight boys, now in the House of Refuge, from a vile locality, where 
 many of their comrades have since been saved, will cost the city almost 
 double the whole expense of the News Boys Lodging-Room, without reck 
 oning the future loss and damage they will inevitably occasion to property, 
 and expense of future trials and punishment. As a mere matter of economy, 
 such an Association in New York, should receive tenfold more liberal sup 
 port than has yet been extended to the Children s Aid Society. 
 
 Let us now follow some of these little vagrants to their new homes. Mr. 
 Van Meter, who has for years been connected with Five Points Mission, has 
 been employed to take children thence to their new homes. He has also 
 been employed by Mr. Brace, before Mr. Tracy could be spared from the 
 News Boys Lodging- House. The warm hearts of these devoted laborers, 
 arc constantly overflowing with love and sympathy for the little ones com 
 mitted to their charge. Their correspondence is replete with interest, and 
 few incidents of travel have such power to enlist our feelings, as those of the 
 city youth who, for the first time, begins to appreciate the sentiment of 
 Cowper, 
 
 "God made the country, but man made the town." 
 
 These children are not sent away until they have spent some time in tho 
 institution, under the management of kind teachers, who seek to prepare 
 them for their new homes. Mr. Van Meter thus describes, in a letter, one of 
 these tours to the West, which is full of interest : 
 
 "I embrace the first opportunity of reporting, through you, to the Ladies 
 Mission, the result of my present tour. As we were about starting, several 
 children arrived from the Children s Aid Society, some from the News 
 Boys Lodging-Room, and when we reached Jersey City, a beautiful 
 little lame girl, from the Home of the Friendless, was placed under my 
 care. As the cry, all aboard, was heard, little Mary was forever freed from 
 the cruel tyranny of the woman who had driven her forth to beg, since she was 
 five years old. On we went some singing, others crying. It was a sleep 
 less night to me. Though we had clothed them at the Mission, as well as 
 our exhausted wardrobe would permit, they often became very cold. The 
 snow-storm in the mountains was severe. Toward morning, a pipe burst, 
 and we were frozen up. As the storm subsided, I went to a farm-house, 
 and begged a pail of milk for the children. 
 
 As we were hastening on. trying to redeem the time lost, little Paddy was 
 sitting by a very interesting, young lad} , who seemed to treat him with groat 
 tenderness. At length, Paddy leaned on her lap, talked and smiled, and 
 she asked him about his brothers and sisters. When she learned that he 
 was homeless and friendless, though but six } 7 ears old, she took him in her 
 arms, and kissed him, and bathed his face with her tears. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 593 
 
 Turning to her father, she said, Now, father, we never had a brother. 
 There are none but Mary and I; you have enough to live on ; take littlo 
 Paddy ; he shall be no trouble to mother ; we will teach him, and when he 
 is old enough, you can make a doctor of him. 
 
 Soon the point was settled. He takes Paddy as a son, and I have author- 
 ;/ed him to change his name. This good home cheered up the children, 
 and often they said, I am glad for Paddy. Will you get as good homes 
 for us ? 
 
 When we arrived in Cleveland, two large omnibuses were placed at my 
 disposal. Off we went to the Angier House, and were welcomed the moro 
 cordially because there were so many of us. Fires were immediately made; 
 those wLo were sick from the shaking of the cars, were put to bed, and the 
 rest prepared for breakfast. The generous landlord refused any compensa 
 tion. His only charge was, come again. 
 
 On the Sabbath, I plead for the mission in three churches. The result of 
 that day humbled me in the dust. the immortal kindness of God ! When 
 
 I saw Ellen K at the Home for the Friendless, and learned that nobody 
 
 would have her, because she was so lame, my sympathy was awakened, and 
 I said in my heart, she shall not go to the alms-house. At the close of my 
 address, in the Euclid street Church, I alluded to Ellen. Six wealthy ladies 
 consulted together, and then said, We have determined to take Ellen and 
 educate her, sharing the expense. 
 
 You remember Kate C , the beautiful little girl who, for many days, 
 
 wandered through the city, seeking a home, and at night, sad and weary, 
 vould go to the Toombs to sleep ! Well, sir, a good, praying man and wife, 
 whose children are gone, said, She shall be to us a daughter. The dear 
 little one wept aloud for joy. You remember one from the Children s Aid 
 Society, who was so disfigured that no one would let her come near their 
 children. After looking at her, a mother in Israel said, This one needs 
 sympathy more than any of the others ; /will take her. Noble, generous 
 
 woman 
 
 Scotchy, being only five or six years old, unusually beautiful and smart, 
 it was not strange that many a wealthy, but childless, home was offered 
 him. As we were leaving the Angier House, a lady who had recently lost 
 her only son, came and said, I must have John, the youngest of the news 
 boys. 
 
 After my arrival in Peoria, I took Mary Jane Small to Judge P . He 
 
 has one of the most truly noble families in the land. The judge took the 
 little one on his knee, pressed her to his heart, and said to his wife, The 
 Lord has given us enough, let us take her. Mar} , with all the innocent 
 fulness of her little heart, said. I m so glad! One of the daughters 
 turned to me and said, We have a little sister now ! They have changed 
 her name, clothed her beautifully, and sent back her own wardrobe for the 
 use of the mission. She is addressed by the children as sister, and calls 
 the judge and his wife, father and mother. When the box of clothes ar 
 rives, please send them to the Children s Aid Society, for the use of her six 
 sisters. She wants them all to come to this good country. 
 
 William Wright is taken by a pious banker, who says that his most ar 
 dent desire is to see him a Christian, that he may fit him for the ministry, 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Jane, the little Irish girl, who learned the Sermon on the Mount, has, in 
 n .ne weeks from her arrival in America, been adopted as a daughter by one 
 of the most pious and wealthy -lawyers in this country. Just think of it ! 
 Five weeks ago, she and her mother and little sister wandered about the 
 Five Points without a shelter. Jane s mother has now a good home near 
 her daughter, and they are all so happy." 
 
 We make a few extracts from the narrative of a similar trip to the West, 
 in the autumn of 1855. It will interest the reader to see how these poor 
 children were affected by the beautiful scenery of the country, in contrast 
 with their wretched surroundings at the Five Points. It reminds one of the 
 exclamations of Casper Hauser, when he first looked upon this beautiful 
 world, after spending all his childhood in a dark dungeon. 
 
 "I hired a band-wagon," says Mr. Van Meter, "put in the children, and 
 went four miles, to Milan. The road was fine, the forests beautiful ; yards 
 and gardens full of beautiful flowers, and the orchards bending under the 
 weight of apples, pears, and other fruit. The children were quite crazed 
 with the scene they laughed, and sung, and hallooed ; all talked at once* 
 each trying to call the attention of the others. 
 
 One was enraptured to think she was where oranges grew. 0, look at 
 the oranges how large, how many ! Would they not bring a shilling in 
 New York ? She was looking into a garden of ripe squashes. 
 
 0, aint you glad you come ? Why, Mr. Van Meter, you did not tell us 
 as much as this, Monday night, said one of the boys. 
 
 0, just stop a minute, and let me get some flowers, said Delia. 
 I do wish father and mother and the baby were here, said little Lizzie. 
 Bless her little kind heart. How I love that child ! 
 
 I defy any New York reporter to give anything like a correct sketch of 
 the scene, opinions, and exclamations. Perhaps you conclude that they 
 were rudely boisterous, and I ought to have made them quiet. No, sir. 
 Do not birds sing as loud as they can, when such a glorious morning opens 
 upon them ? And shall the poor little ones, caged all their lives at the 
 Five Points, give no expression of joy ? Why, their little hearts would 
 burst, if I were to make them hold their tongues. No, shout, my dear little 
 ones, halloo sing to the top of your voice anything you please. I de 
 clare, I could not avoid entering into the same spirit. 
 
 Well, we drove right to the church, which was soon full, and I humbly 
 trust that the scenes of the past hour did not unfit me for the duties of the 
 present. I talked and the people cried. At the close, the ladies went to 
 work in earnest. Mr. S. F. Taylor, mayor of the city, was present with his 
 wife. 
 
 Their eyes were fixed on John Taff. Oh, exclaimed Mrs. T., how 
 much he looks like our dear boy, who was drowned a few weeks ago ! Let 
 us take him to fill the place of our son. 
 
 The people gathered round, and said, what a blessing to this poor boy, 
 to get such a home ! 
 
 One woman said, That s just what I always said : the Lord manages 
 everything right. Don t you see, there was no place for this little one, SD 
 the Lord took their only son to heaven to make room for little Johnny. 
 We all cried. It does seem to me that the Lord has reserved the best 
 
OF AMERICANS. 595 
 
 places for our poor children of the Five Points. The next morning at 
 Beven o clock, not less than one hundred and fifty persons met us, bringing 
 clothing, bedding, etc., which I have shipped to the mission. The children 
 have all found the best homes. But the morning of parting was one of 
 trial. They seemed to realize that they were in a land of strangers, and 
 therefore clung to me. Little Lizzie kept her arms round my neck. Mag 
 gie leaned her head on my breast, and for the first time cried aloud. The 
 boys struggled manfully, but broke down. 0, my dear brother, it tried my 
 heart, as it has never been tried before ! I tried to comfort them, and then 
 kneeled down and commended each one separately to God." 
 
 When we reflect upon the fearful amount of crime in our large cities the 
 garroting, the robbery, the theft who can over-estimate the importance of 
 educating the poor street child, and providing Christian homes for the 
 young vagrant lad, and the houseless girl, who, if unreclaimed, will in a 
 a few years become a pest to society. Throughout the length and breadth 
 of our Great West, how many homes might be found for these friendless 
 ones ! Although much has been done by the Children s Aid Society, and 
 the various city missions, yet it is estimated that there are still ten thousand 
 destitute children in the City of New York, of whom not more than one 
 quarter are provided with homes. 
 
 The following statistics for the past year will show the efforts that have 
 been made by benevolent societies for their instruction : 
 
 SCHOOLS OF CHARITY. School on Randall s Island, 654 pupils ; Colored 
 Orphan Asylum, 295: Orphans Home, 57; Orphan Asylum, 184 ; Half 
 Orphan [about], 190; Home of Friendless, 300; Five Points, 315; Ladies 
 Home Mission, Five Points, 313; House of Refuge, 858; Juvenile Asylum, 
 569 ; Schools of Children s Aid Society, 1,176; Wilson School, 490; Home 
 of Industry (West 16th Street), 200; other Industrial Schools, 130. Total, 
 5,831. 
 
 Sending children to the country, has not been attempted anywhere on so 
 large a scale as by the Children s Aid Society. Since its formation, two 
 thousand seven hundred and forty-three children have been provided with 
 homes and employment. The narrative of the expeditions of Mr. C. C. 
 Tracy, to the West with these children, also abound with thrilling incidents. 
 We have only room for a few of these incidents of travel. The first ex 
 tract is from a letter of Mr. Tracy, dated at the News Boys Lodging- 
 House, November 29, 1856: 
 
 " As you are aware, I started with my family of nearly fifty unprotected 
 ones, on the eighteenth inst., taking passage to Albany in the splendid 
 steamer New World. I had sent word to Kalamazoo, Mich., of our intended 
 appearance there, and believing that would be the most favorable place to 
 accomplish the object in view, I was not desirous to part with any of my 
 children by the way. At Detroit, however, I was induced by their own per 
 suasions, as well as by very favorable applications, to leave three of our 
 company. The others all went off like hot cakes in Kalamazoo. 
 
 Thus, in less than one week from being homeless, street-wandering chil 
 dren, in the City of New York, with a life of vice and wretchedness before 
 them, each one of that whole company was adopted into some well-to-do, 
 respectable familv, in one of the most prosperous States in the Union. 
 38 
 
596 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Had you the space, I could recount for your gratification, and that of vour 
 readers, many highly interesting incidents connected with our travel. Tho 
 children showed the most extravagant delight at the way-side scenery. 
 Many of them looked upon trees, broad fields, running brooks, and high 
 mountains, for the first time in their lives. One little German boy, on 
 coming in sight of Lake Ontario, was evidently struck with the most in 
 tense wonder and amazement. After shading his eyes, while he gazed upon 
 the wide expanse of water for several minutes, he turned to me, saying, 
 
 What world is this we re coming to now, Mr. Tracy ? What is all that, 
 there ? 
 
 I told him we were in Canada, and that was Lake Ontario. 
 
 1 What, a lake ? all that ! Why, it looks like the ocean, don t it ? 
 
 At Detroit, a gentleman from a few miles buck in the country, named 
 Coyle, looked with some interest upon one of the boys, named John Smith, 
 saying to him in the course of conversation, that if he was to take a boy, he 
 should make him change his name and take his. John took quite a liking 
 to Mr. Coyle, and when he left to transact some business about town, asked 
 to go with him. During the walk, some friends whom Mr. Coyle met, 
 asked the boy his name ; John Coyle, sir, was the prompt reply. Mr. 
 Coyle looked at him sharply, but pleased with the shrewdness manifested, 
 immediately rejoined, John Coyle it shall be, then." They came back at 
 once to me, and I soon furnished Mr. Coyle with the means of fulfilling his 
 promise. 
 
 We had a standard bearer (having been furnished by some kind friends 
 with an American flag, before we started), in the person of a clever little 
 black boy, who was included in the number. He enjoyed his impcrtauce 
 much, and his appearance, marshaling the little host, everywhere attracted 
 attention." 
 
 An account of another expedition, we extract from a city newspaper : " It 
 will be recollected, that two or three weeks ago, Mr. Tracy, Agent of tho 
 Children s Aid Society, started on another of his western trips, with a car 
 load of homeless children. He returned a few days ago, and gave a very 
 interesting description of his journey. They left the city on December 23d, 
 in the Albany train. The day was excessively cold, but the car devoted to 
 the use of Mr. Tracy and his juvenile companions was well warmed, and 
 the children were well clothed. 
 
 The scene on their leaving was a deeply interesting one ; but the sadness 
 on the faces of the little group was mingled with joy, as they seemed to 
 look forward to the broad future before them, in which they saw the prom 
 ise of their past homeless condition changed for brightness and prosperity. 
 Kind friends spoke encouragingly to them on their way ; and during the 
 whole route, kind friends arose up all around them, to warm the forlorn 
 hearts of the little strangers, giving them an ever-smiling welcome, and as 
 surance of deep-felt interest. At Niagara, having a few hours to spare the 
 wandering group, the most of whom, probably, had never seen anything 
 beyond the brick-and- mortar city, were feasted with the sight of this majes 
 tic ever-pouring flood of water. Their astonishment and joy amounted to 
 ecstacy. In fact, the scenery during the whole journey, although a snowjr 
 landscape, excited the most intense and noisy interest in them all. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 597 
 
 On Friday, the 26th, at five A. M., the party arrived at Kalamazoo, their 
 destination, and hefore Saturday evening Mr. Tracy had disposed, in the 
 happiest manner, of all -but ten of the children, who were bound still far 
 ther. Accord ingly, on Monday morning, the ten little bo} T s were packed 
 into the comfortable sleigh, where they enjoyed a twenty-miles ride with 
 Mr. Tracy, over the prairie to a village called Prairie Ronde. A gentleman 
 from Three-Rivers, 111., who happened to be stopping at the tavern there, 
 expressed great interest in the little party, especially in one bright-eyed, 
 pleasant- faced chap, of eight years, little Danny. 
 
 This gentleman, a man of wealth, and of much consideration out West, 
 was awaiting the stage, to return to his distant home, and as the stage drove 
 up, and he was about to bid good-by, little Danny bounded up to him, threw 
 his arms round his knees, and exclaimed, 0, Mister, please take me home 
 with you ! 0, won t you ? I want to go home with you so much. 
 
 The gentleman, one of the finest and most stalwart specimens of western 
 giants, looked down for a moment upon the little, pale, pleading orphan 
 boy, who still clung tenaciously to his knees. The big tears gathered slowly 
 in his eyes, but brushing them off hastily with his hand, he exclaimed in a 
 hearty tone, 
 
 Come then, Danny, you shall go home with me. I have two girls, but 
 no boy you are a good little fellow, and you shall be my son ! 
 
 And the great, burly, but tender-hearted, man brushed another tear from 
 his eye. The emotion seemed contagious ; even the hearty stage-driver 
 was affected, but he cracked his whip lustily to conceal his soft-heartedness, 
 as Danny was lifted into the stage by his new friend, and in a moment more 
 the little Five Pointer, whose infancy had been passed in such a hard school 
 of want and suffering, was rattling on toward a home of love and plenty. 
 
 Another traveler, on his way to his home, chancing to stop at the tavern 
 with no previous thought of adopting a boy, was so much taken with a 
 round-faced, chubby little fellow, of ten, an orphan the Willie of the 
 company that he secured him on the spot. He is a wealthy, kind-hearted 
 farmer, and one calculated to bring up the boy in a way to insure his be 
 coming a valuable member of society. 
 
 Little Freddy, the youngling of the flock, only six years old, whose only 
 parent, his mother, was lying at the point of death in Bellevue Hospital, 
 when he left with the rest, was adopted by a farmer and his wife, who, ex 
 pecting the company, had come some thirty miles to procure a nice little 
 boy. 
 
 Mr. Tracy saw a large number of the children during his stay, whom, on 
 former occasions, he had provided with western homes. They were all 
 very happy; and to his question, Would they return to New York? a 
 universal, 0, no, sir! was the reply." 
 
 Occasionally a child is returned. People are not always so forbearing or 
 unselfish as they should be, and now and then the old roving passion comes 
 
 over the child. A family in S sent back a bright little fellow. He had 
 
 not behaved badly, but was not quite so immaculate as they had hoped. 
 The result of his return to that miserable hovel might hav been expected 
 he was soon taken up by the police as a vagrant, and bent to the Essex 
 Market Prison. Mr. Brace found the family in iireat distress there wcra 
 
598 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 eight other children, cold and hungry. One of them said, " Brothei had 
 gone to the prison," crying hard ; " father was out picking rags ; he would 
 like to go to school, but there wasn t none near. A jintleman did take him 
 once to Sunday School, and he liked it." Whoever would aid the poor, 
 must have some tinge of the patience and long-suffering our great Benefactor 
 has shown toward us. ^ 
 
 We will close this article with an exhibition of kindness among the lowly, 
 presenting a happy contrast to the above. " One of our visitors," says Mr, 
 Brace, " found a little boy under a cart, gnawing a bone, which he had 
 picked up for his breakfast. He had a good natured little face, and fine 
 
 dark eye. Mr. S felt a sympathy for him, and asked, 
 
 Where do you live, my boy ? 
 
 Don t live nowhere ! [0, how often this answer is given]. He said his 
 mother had left him, and lived all about, doin washin ; but a woman in 
 Thirteenth street had taken him in, and he slept in one corner of her room. 
 Mr. S. went with him to the place, and found that this kind woman was 
 very poor bare room, and scarcely enough to live herself, yet she had taken 
 in this wretched little creature. She was the poorest creature in New 
 York, she said, but some how, everything that was poor always came to 
 her, and while God gave her anything, she meant to share it with others. " 
 "Ye who are happy, whose lives have been under sunshine and gentle in 
 fluences ; ye who gather in cheerful home circles, think of the friendless chil 
 dren in our great cities ! Hear the eloquent pleading of C. T. Brace in 
 their behalf, and do not withhold your aid from the noble work in which 
 he is engaged. But few have such eloquent expression as the poor little 
 prisoner at the Toombs, but all inarticulately feel. There are sad histories 
 beneath this gay world lives, over which is the very shadow of death. 
 God be thanked, there is a heart to feel for them all, where every pang and 
 groan will find sympathy. The day is short for us all ; but for some, it will 
 be a pleasant thought when we come to lay down our heads, at last, that we 
 have eased a few aching hearts, and brought peace and joy to the dark lives 
 of some whom men had forgotten, or cast out." LEILA LEE. 
 
 And now, one cheering word to you, whom God hath richly blessed, 
 And opened wide your generous hearts to succor the distressed : 
 Ye sow the seed with trembling hope ye water it with tears, 
 But ye shall gather precious fruit, to chide your anxious fears. 
 As plants their fragrant buds unfold, when taken from the shade, 
 And flowers in Spring s warm sunlight ; when gentle breezes played, 
 Have yielded up a sweet perfume, to bless our fostering care 
 So may that youthful soul expand in more congenial air. 
 Your Christian home affords it now an atmosphere of love 
 And, while you sow the precious seed, you lift your heart above : 
 " Help, Lord, to take this little one and bring it up for thee." 
 Toil on ! you soon will hear the words, when ye your Saviour see, 
 "As ye have done to one of these so have ye done to me." L. L. 
 
AMERICA 
 
 AT 
 
 THE WORLD S FAIR, 
 
 HELD N THE CRYSTAL PALACE, LONDON, IN 1851, TOGETHER WITH A DESCRIPTION Of 
 THE GREAT YACHT RACE, OFF THE ISLE OF WIGHT, IN WHICH THE 
 
 "AMERICA," GAINED A SIGNAL TRIUMPH. 
 
 THE Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations, at London, in 1851, it is 
 said, "will ever be referred to as the most stupendous conception of modern 
 times." The Crystal Palace, in which it was held, occupied an area of 
 eighteen acres. The building was formally opened on the 1st of May, by 
 her majesty Queen Victoria, with suitable and imposing ceremonies. 
 
 An extraordinary space at the eastern end of the palace was assigned for 
 the exhibition of articles from the United States. This was sparsely filled, 
 compared with the crowded apartments of other countries. While the 
 signs indicating each of these were small and neat, that over the receptacle 
 for American contributions, was a long piece of planed and painted lumber 
 with the golden words "United States of America" in huge proportions, 
 surmounted by a gigantic eagle, with expanded wings. These peculiarities 
 drew forth the ridicule of the English writers, who appeared, for the mo 
 ment, to forget that even these were but properly characteristic contributions 
 from a land generous beyond all other lands in wood and gold. 
 
 A few extracts will show the spirit with which Young America was 
 greeted by the English press. On the very opening day of the exhibition, 
 the London Times thus began with a fusilade : 
 
 "Our Transatlantic descendants, following out their New World instincts, 
 feave no idea of being jostled by other nations, or pinched for space, even in 
 the Crystal Palace. While the industries of other countries have been 
 screwing themselves up tight, and getting into the smallest possible com 
 pass, that of the United States invites emigration from France from our 
 selves from the rest of Europe generally. Other nations rely upon their 
 proficiency in the arts, or in manufactures, or in machinery, for producing 
 effect. Not so with America. She is proud of her agricultural imple 
 ments which Garrett, or Ransom and May would reject as worthless ; she is 
 proud of her machinery, which would hardly fill one corner of our exhibi 
 tion, and upon the merits of which our civil engineers would not pronounce 
 a very nattering opinion ; and she thinks a great deal of her first efforts in 
 native marble by an untaught sculptor." 
 
600 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Two weeks later, the Times poured in a few more shot : "What idea 
 of Jonathan is to be gathered from his notions ? and can we detect in the 
 offspring the lineaments of its parent s face ? England is not given to boast 
 ing and swaggering ; [ ?] she generally understates her strength, and studies 
 moderation of language about herself, though she has some excuse for being 
 proiul. Her republican progeny are not so modest, if one may judge from 
 the wings of that very aggressive American eagle, with which, the eastern 
 end of the nave is decorated. The king of birds is hovering over a set of 
 notions, spread out very sparsely beneath him; and the visitor is some 
 what astonished to find him making so vast a demonstration over a space so 
 unoccupied. The American department is the prairie-ground of the exhibi 
 tion ; and our cousins, smart as they are, have failed to fill it. They cannot 
 yet keep pace with the great strides of the European industries, and even 
 the seven league boots, if they had them, would not enable them to do so 
 for some generations to come. They are growing, and will be a great com 
 munity by and by. Let them therefore await the future with patience and 
 humility." 
 
 The unwise sensitiveness to these attacks, shown by the wincing of some 
 of our countrymen, who could not "bide their time," were "nuts" to the 
 Thunderer; so, a little later, he indulges in more amusement of the same 
 sort. 
 
 " If the Americans do excite a smile, it is by their pretensions. When 
 ever they do come out of their own province of rugged utility and enter into 
 competition with European elegance, they do certainly make themselves 
 ridiculous. Their furniture is grotesque ; their carriages and harness are 
 gingerbread ; their carpets are tawdry ; their patchwork quilts surpass even 
 the invariable ugliness of this fabric ; their cut-glass is clumsy ; their pianos 
 sound of nothing but iron and wood ; their bookbinding is that of a jour 
 neyman working on his own account in an English market-town ; their 
 daguerreotypes are the sternest and gloomiest of all daguerreotypes ; their 
 printed calicoes are such as our house-maids would not think it respectable 
 to wear. Even their ingenuity, great as it is, becomes ridiculous, when it 
 attempts competition with Europe. Double pianos, a combination of a 
 piano and a violin, a chair with a cigar case in its back, and other mongrel 
 constructions, belong to a people that would be centaurs and mermen if 
 they could, and are always rebelling against the trammels of unity. . . . 
 The Americans have no occasion to fret at the uncouth figure they cut 
 beside their neighbors. A nation with a continent in its pocket can afford 
 to be laughed at. After all the American section of the exhibition is the 
 fittest possible picture of the geographical part, not merely as a fastidious 
 European might describe it, but even as it would strike an American him 
 self, in his progress from the Broadway to the Missouri or the Rio 
 Grande." 
 
 Other papers followed in an echo of the Times, and the Illustrated News 
 thus discoursed upon the "very modest Yankees :" "According to popu 
 lar opinion, as taught by their newspapers, the United States were to carry 
 off the chief glories of the World s Fair. Now, as in the United States 
 every one reads the newspapers, and many read nothing else, it was just 
 natural that the people should fancy they were going to lick old worn out 
 
OF AMERICANS. 601 
 
 Europe. The result has been that the Americans \vere deeply mortified, 
 and somewhat angry at the insignificant performances of their own magni 
 ficent promises. On board an American steamer, in which a friend of ours 
 made his passage from New York, in March last, every assemblage in the 
 day, at dinner, breakfast, luncheon, and supper, brought out bold offers 
 from the State s men of bets of many dollars, that their country would 
 carry off the greatest number of prizes from all tho competitors of the 
 World s Fair. And we believe that, until the opening of the exhibition, 
 the same confidence prevailed in all American assemblages. Can they 
 wonder that we laugh a little, or can they doubt that this laughing will do 
 them good?" 
 
 It would be a miracle in human nature if the American people wero 
 devoid of the habit of boasting, for they are full of the vigor of youth, with 
 a glorious past, free institutions, and a whole continent on which to work 
 out a magnificent future if they but will. It is therefore only the logical 
 consequence of their condition, for them to feel as if they could surpass all 
 other nations in any field of enterprize which they may choose, and it should 
 be no cause of complaint if they manifest the frankness to say what they be 
 lieve they can accomplish. One consolation remains, that is, in time they 
 may grow as modest as even John Bull himself, until they arrive at that 
 point where, like him, they can boast of their modesty without a blush ! 
 
 Before the close of the exhibition the tone of the English papers changed 
 very essentially, and their commendation became as strong as had been 
 their detraction toward the contributions of our young and progressive 
 people. John Bull, self-sufficient as he is, when fairly convinced of his 
 errors, acknowledges them with a heartiness that makes full amends for 
 the bluntness with which he expresses his hastily-formed opinions. The 
 exhibition proved a decided triumph for the Americans. We present a 
 sketch of their successes in an abridgement from the report of Colonel Ben 
 jamin P. Johnston, agent of the State of New York, in which he sums up 
 tho results of the exhibition, and speaks more particularly upon those 
 articles to which awards were assigned. We mention only the more 
 prominent. 
 
 "It should be borne in mind that the exhibitors from this country were 
 placed in a very different position from any other foreign country. The ex 
 hibition from the United States was made by the exhibitors themselves, 
 \uitliout aid or assistance, in their preparation, from the government, was 
 /nade by our citizens themselves, and showed their enterprize, their energy, 
 their skill and ingenuity ; and when this was known, it was a matter of 
 Hurprise to foreigners that we exhibited as much as we did. It was designed 
 to show, as it did, that in this country "genius, industry and energy find 
 no barriers to their career." The number of inventions exhibited which 
 were calculated to reduce the cost of production in agriculture, manufactures 
 and the mechanic arts, was in the highest degree creditable to us, and elic 
 ited from distinguished sources in Great Britain the admission that to "tho 
 department of American notions " they owed "the most important contri 
 butions to their industrial system." 
 
 In the early part of tho Exhibition, the U. S. Department was the subject 
 of much invidious remark, and our contributions were considered as far bft- 
 
602 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 hiud the times. Located in the buildings as we were, adjacent to France, 
 Russia and Austria, there was indeed a striking difference in the appearance 
 of the contributions from the different countries. While that from the 
 United States was mainly of a character of utility in the Implement and 
 Machinery department, and of the productions of the soil, the others con 
 sisted of the most costly articles, wrought with exquisite taste, silks, statu 
 ary, diamonds, jewelry, etc., which attracted the eye and called forth the 
 warmest encomiums. During the first three weeks, while the admissions 
 comprised only the wealthy classes, the United States Department was 
 hastily passed over a glance given, an inquiry made at the implements, a 
 remark occasionally, " these may do for a new country, but would not answer 
 in England unless our mechanics have the altering of them, etc.," was the 
 principal notice which was given them. In answer to these remarks upon 
 our implements the reply was frequently given that no " English Mechanic" 
 would have the privilege of practicing upon our implements, until they 
 were tried, and we had the opportunity of showing what our implements 
 could perform. It was not & very pleasant position, to be met with remarks 
 similar to these, day after day, for several weeks. As the jurors, however, 
 began to make their examinations, and as exhibitors and others interested in 
 the articles on exhibition were called upon to explain to intelligent and 
 practical men, what were the properties claimed for our articles, more inte 
 rest was manifested in our department. 
 
 MACHINERY. In this department, as was to have been expected, the 
 English display a far more extensive assortment than all the other nations. 
 The exhibition shows what perfection has been attained, and the beauty of 
 finish and arrangement, is certainly worthy of all praise. Of machinery, of 
 really new principles, there did not appear to me to be much in the English 
 department. I was informed by a very skillful mechanic from our State, 
 who examined the machinery with great minuteness, that very many of the 
 most valuable improvements were taken from American inventions, and the very 
 machines were named in which they were to be found. 
 
 A considerable number of Prize Medals were awarded for guns, rifles, etc., 
 but strange to say, Colt s celebrated Revolvers, were only favored with an 
 Honorable Mention, as appears from the returns I have. This is the more 
 singular, when it is recollected, that the English press without an excep 
 tion, so far as I am informed, gave great prominence to this most important 
 and invaluable improvement of Mr. Colt, which has found great favor in 
 England, and his rifles and pistols have been largely ordered for the use of 
 the British army. There was an attempt made during the exhibition, to 
 show that Colt was not the inventor of the revolvers, one having been, 
 found in Paris, I believe, of very ancient date. That may be so, for aught 
 I know, but it is riot the less true, that so far as giving efficiency and prac 
 ticability to the invention, the world is indebted to him, and he is as truly 
 and justly entitled to the credit of the invention, as if it had never before 
 entered into the mind of another. Honorable Mention was also given to 
 W. R. Palmer, for a Target Rifle, and to Robbins and Lawrence for Military 
 Rifles. 
 
 Previous to the trial of our plows, a very erroneous idea generally pre 
 vailed among those who visited the Exhibition, as to what they could per- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 603 
 
 form. They were so different from the English plows, so light in theil 
 structure, and so much shorter, the impression was very general, that they 
 would not succeed. The following description of our plows, as compared 
 with the English implements was given during the Exhibition, in the lead 
 ing Agricultural Monthly Magazine published in England. 
 
 After describing the defects of the implements exhibited from the Con 
 tinent, the writer remarks, " this is also particularly noticeable in the Amer 
 ican plows, which, with the exception of the varnish and high finish, remind 
 us of the prints in agricultural works intended to represent plows that were 
 used several hundred years ago. They also show us that the Americans must 
 have a very friable soil to cultivate, or that their tillage operations are ex 
 ecuted in a very imperfect manner." 
 
 It was under all these disadvantages that the trial was had ; but the result 
 proved that what had been affirmed by us of our plows was practically de 
 monstrated to be true. There were present at the trial, a large number of 
 practical farmers and land proprietors who felt a deep interest in the result ; 
 for if the American plows succeeded their cheapness, as well as lightness 
 and diminished draught were objects of no small moment to the English 
 farmer, struggling with exorbitant rents, taxes, and poor rates, as well as with 
 the foreign competition induced by Free Trade, which called for every pos 
 sible improvement that would cheapen the production of grain crops. 
 
 The trial ground was a moderately stiff soil, with a light sod, and the 
 depth and width of furrow was fixed at six and nine inches. When the 
 first American plow was brought on to the ground for trial, the interest man 
 ifested was very great. A large number of farm laborers as well as farmers 
 were gathered around the plow, and the expressions I heard from many 
 were "that plow won t go in ;" "that plow will break ;" and other remarks 
 of a similar character. I had an American with me to hold the plow but 
 the gentleman upon whose land the trial was made, advised that his plow 
 man who was well versed in his work, should hold the first one and I con 
 sented. The plow was set to the required depth and width, as near as it 
 could be done, and the team started. The plowman, unused to the plow, 
 pressing his whole weight upon the handles, to keep it in, was desired to let 
 the plow take its own course, merely steadying it, and it went through its 
 work with great ease, both to the plowman and team. As we returned to 
 the starting point, it was settled that our plow would do its work. 
 
 We tried several American plows : Starbuck s, of Troy ; Prouty and 
 Mear s, of Boston ; Allen s, of New York, and one from Philadelphia. The 
 work was well done, the sole of the furrow was as well finished as by any 
 plow upon the ground and the only objection made by the Jurors, to the 
 work of our plows was, that the furrow slice was broken too much. It was 
 evident to those familiar with plowing such soil, that this was an advantage 
 in favor of our plows, as a stiff soil needed to be broken to prepare it for 
 the seed, and if not done by the plow, it would require much more labor 
 with the harrow or cultivator to prepare it ; and this was sustained by the 
 judgment of practical farmers on the ground, whose attention was particu 
 larly called to the work done by our plows, and who admitted that it could 
 be prepared for the seed at much less expense and labor, than when the 
 furrow slice was laid over smoothly and unbroken. 
 
604 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 But a most satisfactory evidence of the adaptation of our plows to the work 
 required there, resulted from u trial of one of Starbuck s Troy plows, with 
 a single horse, in the same field, with the same width and depth of furrow, 
 as was required on the trial. An English farmer made the trial himself. 
 The plow was drawn by one of the large English farm horses, with entire 
 ease, and when he had plowed so as to satisfy all present, that one horse 
 would do the work, even in soil of the kind we were engaged in at the trial, 
 it was remarked by many of the persons present, that " that is the plow the 
 English farmer wants." This plow was sold on the ground and ten more 
 were ordered in the very same neighborhood, and a very large number have 
 since been sent to England as well as the Continent, "as the Americarfplows 
 found great favor among the English farmers, on account of their extraor 
 dinary cheapness and lightness of draught." 
 
 REAPING MACHINES. The favorable results of the trial of the plows, 
 called more especially the attention of the public who visited the exhibition, 
 to the value of the American Implements. On the return of the plows to 
 the Palace, the one upon which the award was placed, as well as the others, 
 excited much interest, and the reaping machines, which were soon to be 
 tried, excited far more attention than before. The impression now seemed 
 to prevail that these American Implements may, after all, do what has been 
 promised. 
 
 TRIAL OF THE REAPERS AT TIP-TREE HALL. Succeeding the trial of the 
 plows came that of the Reapers, on the 24th of July. There were three 
 machines on exhibition. McCormick s Virginia Reaper, Hussey s American 
 Reaper, and an English Reaper, made after Hussey s, but which, I believe, 
 had not been tried. The place selected for trial was at Tip-tree Hall, Kel- 
 vedon, Essex, the farm of Mr. J. J. Mechi, about forty-five miles from 
 town. The day selected was the annual gathering of gentlemen at the farm 
 of Mr. Mechi to inspect his crops and method of farming, which is exciting 
 much interest in England. The day proved a very unfavorable one, as it 
 rained during the whole day. The wheat upon which the trial was to be 
 made was quite green and remarkably heavy, and everything as unfavorable 
 as could well be. There were from one hundred and fifty to two hundred 
 gentlemen present, many of whom had come upward of three hundred 
 miles to witness the trial. 
 
 The Sub-jury assigned to conduct the trial was composed of Colonel 
 Challoner, one of the English J-urors, Baron Merten d Ostins, of Belgium, 
 and B. P. Johnson, United States ; and W. Fisher Hobbs, Esq., though not 
 a member of the Jury, was present by invitation, at the trial. The first 
 machine tried was Hussey s, which did not succeed, at it clogged very soon, 
 and passed over the grain without cutting it. After this had been tried two 
 or three times and failed, it was proposed by one of the Jurors that no fur 
 ther trial be made by the Reapers but it was insisted that the other Amer 
 ican Reaper should be tried. The gentlemen present expected it, and I waa 
 not willing they should leave the ground without satisfying those present that 
 the American Reapers would perform the work which it had been affirmed 
 thsj could do. Mr. McCormick s Reaper was then brought up, managed by 
 D. C. McKenzie, of Livingston county, in this State, who is entitled to no 
 little credit for the successful result of the trial. This was a moment, an 
 
OF AMERICANS. e05 
 
 may well be imagined, of no ordinary interest. One reaper had not operated 
 as was expected another, and the only remaining American reaper to be 
 tried, was now to be tested. The gentlemen present were anxious that some 
 thing should succeed that would cheapen the gathering of their crops but 
 from expressions made around me, I was satisfied they had no confidence in 
 the reaper. They said, after the first trial, "it is as we expected they will 
 not work until perfected by an English mechanic." The laboring men, too 
 when the first one was started, seemed perfectly astonished, fearing their 
 vocation was gone but when it failed to work, they brightened up and 
 would doubtless have given vent to their feelings, if another one had not 
 been found ready for the trial, and might succeed. It can well be imagined 
 that the Americans, of whom only three were present, beside myself, were 
 in quite as great a state of excitement as the others. The machine was 
 started. After it had passed its length, the clean path made by the reaper 
 the grain falling from its side, showed that the work was done, and the 
 reaper was successful. After proceeding as far as was deemed necessary, the 
 team was stopped, and Mr. Mechi jumped upon the platform and said, 
 " Gentlemen, here is a triumph for the American Heaping Machine. It has, 
 under all its disadvantages, done its work completely. Now let us, as Eng 
 lishmen, show them that we appreciate this contribution for cheapening our 
 agriculture, and let us give the Americans three hearty English cheers." They 
 were given, and with a fourth added, satisfying all that they were heartily 
 given. Another trial was then had, and the reaper timed cutting, in sev 
 enty seconds, seventy-four yards in length, entirely clean, and to the satis 
 faction of the Jurors and the gentlemen present. The Jurors recommended 
 the award of a Medal to Mr. McCormick. 
 
 The result of this trial gave a new turn to affairs, and on the return of 
 the Reapers to the Palace, crowds were continually examining them, and 
 the American department from this time to the closing of the exhibition, 
 was no lorger the "prairie ground," but was thronged with inquiring visi 
 tors. The London Times, whose agricultural reporter was present, gave a 
 very full account of this successful trial ; and in an article published soon 
 after the trial, it was said, "that every practical success of the season be 
 longed to the Americans, their consignments showed poorly at first, but come 
 out well upon trial" And again, "it will be remembered that the American 
 department was the poorest and least interesting of all foreign countries. Of 
 late, it has justly assumed a position of the first importance, as having brought 
 to the aid of our distressed agriculturalists, a machine, which if it realizes the 
 anticipations of competent judges, will amply remunerate England for all her 
 outlay connected with the Great Exhibition. The reaping machine from the 
 United States is the most valuable contribution from abroad, to the stock of 
 our previous knowledge, that we have yet discovered." 
 
 The late Chancellor of the Exchequer, Earl Granville, one of the Royal 
 Commissioners, who devoted himself constantly to his duties as Commis 
 sioner, and to whom the exhibition is greatly indebted for its success, in 
 speaking of the success of the Americans at the exhibition, alludes to " two 
 other American gentlemen, who are at present teaching us Iww to cut corn, 
 an act which we have been practicing for some hundreds of years in this 
 .sland, but qf which, it appears, we are ignorant of the first principles " 
 
606 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Subsequent to the trial at Mr. Mechi s, another trial was had before the 
 Chairman of the Jury, Hon. Mr. Pusey, Mr. Miles, M. P., and Baron Hlu- 
 beck, of Austria ; I give the report of Mr. Pusey, the Chairman, in which 
 it will be noticed, that he speaks of an English machine, as too intricate, and 
 that it had fallen into disuse fifty years since. 
 
 MR. PUSEY S REPORT. "At the opening of this century it was thought 
 that a successful reaping machine had been invented, and a reward was 
 voted by Parliament, to its author. The machine was employed here and 
 abroad, but from its intricacy fell into disuse. Our farmers may well have 
 been astonished by an American implement which not only reaped their 
 wheat, but performed the work with the neatness and certainty of an old 
 and perfect machine. Its novelty of action reminded one of seeing the first 
 engine run on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, in 1830. Its perfec 
 tion depended on its being new only in England, but in America the result 
 of repeated disappointment, untired perseverance. 
 
 The United States Patent Commissioner says of Mr. McCormick s reaping 
 machine : In agriculture it is, in my view, as important, as a labor saving 
 device, as the Spinning Jenny and Power Loom in Manufactures. It is one 
 of those great and valuable inventions which commence a new era in the 
 progress of improvement, and whose beneficial influence is felt in all coming 
 time. 
 
 As to the practical working of the reaper, two horses drew it at the trial 
 very easily round the outside of the crop until they finished in the center, 
 showing that they could easily cut fifteen acres in ten hours. One man 
 drives sitting, and another stands on the machine to rake. It is hard work 
 for him, and the men ought sometimes to change places. The straw left 
 behind at the trial was cut very regularly ; lower than by reaping, but higher 
 than by fagging. The inventor stated that he had a machine which would 
 cut it two inches lower. This is the point, I should say, to attend to, espe 
 cially for autumn cleaning. Though it seems superfluous to bring this ma 
 chine to the test of economy, we may estimate the present cost of cutting 
 fifteen acres of wheat, at an average of 9s. per acre, to be 6 155. Deduct 
 for horses and men 105. 3d., and for binding 2$. Qd. per acre, the account will 
 stand thus : 
 
 Average cost of reaping 15 acre*, 9s. 6 15.0 
 
 Horses and men for Reaper, ------------.0 100 
 
 Binding, 15 acres, 2s. Qd., 1 17.6 2 7. 6 
 
 Saving per acre, 5s. I0d., 4. 7.6, or $21.20 
 
 The saving in wages, however, would of course be an imperfect test of 
 the reaper s merits, since in bad seasons and late districts it may often enable 
 the farmer to save the crop. 
 
 Since fresh trials have been mado of Mr. McCormick s reaper, as also of 
 one of Mr. Hussey ; and as the award under the Commission has been 
 called in question, it is right that some statement should be made on the 
 subject. In the first trial, at Tiptree Hall, Mr. McCormick s reaper worked 
 well the other did not act at all. As the corn, however, was then green. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 607 
 
 it was thought right to make further trial, and special leave was obtained 
 from the Council of Chairmen to give two Council Medals, one to each reaper, 
 if on further trial their respective performances should be found to deserve 
 one. The object in our second trial was not to decide which was the best 
 implement, but whether either or both, were sufficiently good to receive the 
 Council Medal. Mr. McCormick s in this trial worked, as it has since worked 
 at Cirencester College and elsewhere, to the admiration of practical farmers, 
 and therefore received a Council Medal. Mr. Hussey s sometimes became 
 clogged, as in the former trial at Tiptree, and therefore could not possibly 
 obtain that distinction. 
 
 Further trials, however, have since been made by other persons else 
 where, in which Mr. Hussey s machine worked well ; and one of our col 
 leagues, Mr. Thompson, informs me that it had been used for a week by a 
 practical farmer, on his own farm, who was perfectly satisfied. Its inventor 
 states that at the trials for the commission the failure arose from a mal-ad- 
 justment ; and Mr. Thompson informs me that at one of the subsequent 
 trials a similar mal-adjustment impeded its action, until Mr. Hussey arrived 
 to set it right. I am bound, then, to express my own individual opinion 
 that the merits of the machine are such as to entitle it to a Council Medal, 
 and my regret that it should formally be disqualified to receive one." 
 
 Until the trial of the American Implements, and the most triumphant 
 success of McCormick s Reaper, the United States department was compar 
 atively overlooked. But our triumph here, gave a new direction to public 
 attention, and that part of our exhibition which previously had been slightly 
 passed over, now attracted the notice of every visitor, and the press of 
 England was prompt in admitting the complete and triumphant success 
 of the Americans. It was no longer deemed necessary to say of our im 
 plements, "they may do for a new country," for the trial had satisfied the 
 most prejudiced, that they were designed to advance the interests of 
 the best cultivated countries of the old world, and "taught them how 
 to cut corn by machinery, of whose first principles it appeared they were 
 ignorant." 
 
 The result of this trial was not unexpected to those Americans who were 
 familiar with our implements, and to them was peculiarly gratifying, as 
 placing our country in the position to which it was entitled and commanding 
 that attention for our exhibition, which was justly due to it, from the char 
 acter of many of our articles, particularly those in the machinery and agri 
 cultural departments. 
 
 CHURNS formed a very numerous class in the exhibition ; of the four 
 prizes awarded, one was for Anthony s American Churn, called the "Im 
 proved American Churn," well known in this country, exhibited by an 
 English firm who have the patent for England. In the American depart 
 ment there was shown from New Hampshire " Davis Self Adjusting Churn," 
 of the same principle substantially as the " Improved American Churn," to 
 vhich a prize was awarded. 
 
 The American Scythes, Axes, Hay and Manure Forks, etc., were very 
 much approved, and so far as I have heard from those familiar with these 
 implements they were considered decidedly superior. 
 
 Professor BACHE, of Washington, received a Prize Medal for his Standard 
 
608 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 Weights, Meisures and Balance. They were admirably prepared, and few 
 articles in the United States department attracted more attention. 
 
 DAGUERREOTYPES were extensively shown. Those from the United States 
 were conceded to be superior in general effect, to those from any other 
 country. BRADY & LAWRENCE, of New York, each received a Prize Medal 
 and one was awarded to a Mr. W hippie, of Michigan, for a daguerreotype 
 of the moon. There were several other exhibitors whose pictures were very 
 superior. Those of Evans, from Buffalo, were much admired, as were those 
 of Meade & Brothers, New York. The following article, from an English 
 literary journal, shows in what estimation our exhibition was held. "Da 
 guerreotypes are largely displayed by the French, as might have been ex 
 pected, that country being proud of the discovery ; but the examples ex 
 hibited by the Americans surpass, in general beauty of effect, any which we 
 have examined from other countries. This has been attributed to a differ 
 ence in the character of the solar light, as modified by atmospheric condi 
 tions ; we are not, however, disposed to believe that to be the case. We 
 have certain indications that an increased intensity of light is not of any 
 advantage, but rather the contrary, for tl*e production of daguerreotypes ; 
 the luminous rays appearing to act as balancing powers against the chemical 
 rays. Now, this being the case, we know of no physical cause by which the 
 superiority can be explained, and we are quite disposed to be sufficiently 
 honest to admit that the mode of manipulation has more to do with the 
 result than any atmospheric influences. However this may be, the character 
 of the daguerreotypes executed in America is very remarkable. There is 
 a fullness of tone, and an artistic modulation of light and shadow which, in 
 England, we do not obtain. The striking contrasts of white and black are 
 shown decidedly enough in the British examples exhibited in the gallery 
 but here are coldness and hardness of outline. Within the shadow of the 
 eagle and the striped banner we find no lights too white and no shadows too 
 dark ; they dissolve, as in Nature, one into the other, in the most harmo 
 nious and truthful manner and the result is more perfect pictures." 
 
 MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. From the United States there were a number of 
 Pianos exhibited, and although in the early part of the Exhibition they were 
 slightly noticed by the press, every one of them received an award of a 
 Medal or Honorable Mention. Chickering, Meyer, Nunns and Clark, re 
 ceived Medals. Messrs. Gilbert & Co., Heers & Pirsson, Honorable Mention ; 
 and Wood of Virginia, a money award of 50, for his Piano Violin, which 
 attracted attention from its ingenuity, and was in constant requisition to 
 satisfy the eager curiosity of visitors. Goodyear, of the United States, re 
 ceived Honorable Mention for an India Rubber flute. Palmer s artificial leg, 
 from this country, received a medal, to which it was most justly entitled. 
 Among the great number of preparations there was none that compared with 
 this and I was informed that the Marquis of Anglesea, who left one of his 
 limbs at the battle of Waterloo had Mr. Palmer before him, with his leg, 
 and, in the midst of a collection not numerous enough to supply a large 
 army, yet very extensive this was pronounced superior to all. 
 
 Prize Medals were awarded to the United States for an assortment of 
 drillings, tickings, shirtings, sheetings and cotton flannel, exhibited by tne 
 Amoskeag Manufacturing Company, Manchester, New Hampshire, and th 
 
OF AMERICANS. 609 
 
 Willimantic Duck Manufacturing Company, for cotton sail cloth ; the samo 
 material, I think, of which the sails of the American yacht were constructed. 
 In the United States department some very fine shawls from the Lawrence 
 Mills were shown, and attracted the notice of all interested in this class, and 
 received a Prize Medal. There were some capital samples of leather from 
 this State, exhibited by Hon. Zadock Pratt, of Prattsville, of eight different 
 varieties, from four tanneries, which had been finished in about four and a 
 half months mostly with hemlock bark. The samples were very ad 
 mirably finished, and attracted attention. Specimens were shown of Brus 
 sels carpet, woven by steam power, by Mr. Bigelow of the United States, 
 which had never before been accomplished, and will produce an entire 
 revolution in the manufacture of this kind of carpets. The United States 
 exhibition of Scythes by the North Wayne Company was decidedly su 
 perior to any other in the exhibition, and the Axes and other edged tools 
 of Simmons & Co., of Cohoes, New York, were admitted to be without a 
 rival. 
 
 Locks of two of the most celebrated lock-makers in England, which had 
 been considered proof against all attempts at picking, were opened by an 
 American who had a lock on exhibition, Day & Newell s Parautoptic Per- 
 mutating Lock, of which we propose to take some notice hereafter. 
 
 Silas C. Herring s Salamander Safe, received a Medal, and it was equal to 
 any shown at the exhibition. There was deposited in this safe, in my pre 
 sence, 200 sterling, by Mr. Herring, and the safe locked, (having one of 
 Day & Newell s Locks, I believe,) and notice placed upon the safe, that 
 any person was welcome to the money, who could open the safe the key 
 being at the service of any one who chose to make the attempt. It re 
 mained for forty-five days unopened. 
 
 The Exhibition of Locks was very extensive and of great excellence. 
 CIIUBB & SON, celebrated English lock-makers, had a very fine exhibition 
 of their locks, in great variety and most splendidly got up. They were ex 
 hibited as the Patent Detector Locks are in use, or were, on the government 
 vaults and offices, the Bank of England, and wherever safety was required. 
 Chubb s locks for ordinary purposes have each six separate and distinct 
 movable tumblers and a detector. If a surreptitious attempt be made to 
 open any one, it was said immediate notice is given by the detector on the 
 next application of the proper key. BEAMAH & Co., exhibited very fine 
 samples of their various locks, and one brass case lock, exhibiting the num 
 ber of changes their locks will admit of, amounting to upward of four hun 
 dred and seventy-nine millions ! In their shop window in Piccadilly, London, 
 was displayed a large padlock with a standing offer of two hundred guineas 
 to any person who would open it with a single instrument. 
 
 Soon after the exhibition opened, Mr. A. C. HOBBS, of New York, who 
 had charge of Day & Newell s locks, obtained one of Chubb s locks and 
 opened it in the space. of ten or fifteen minutes, in the presence of several 
 gentlemen. This, on becoming known, excited much interest and led to a 
 publication from Chubb & Son challenging the opening of their locks. 
 M.7. Hcbbs was permitted to make the attempt to open one of Chubb s locks, 
 which was placed upon an iron door to a vault built for the depository of 
 valuable papers. I give the proceedings which took place on this trial. 
 
610 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 " AMERICAN DEPARTMENT, 
 
 Crystal Palace, July 21. 
 
 GENTLEMEN : An attempt will be made to open a lock of your manu 
 facture on the door of a strong room at 34 Great George Street, Westminster, 
 to-morrow, Tuesday, at eleven A. M. You are respectfully invited to be 
 present and witness the operation. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 " A. C. HOBBS. 
 To Messrs. CHUBB & SON, St. Paul s Church Yard." 
 
 (Messrs. Chubb did not notice this communication.) 
 
 " LONDON, July 22, 1851. 
 
 We, the undersigned, hereby certify that we attended, with permission of 
 Mr. Bell, of No. 34 Great George Street, Westminster, an invitation sent 
 to us by A. C. Hobbs, of the City of New York, to witness an attempt to 
 open a lock throwing three bolts, and having six tumblers, affixed to the 
 iron door of a strong room or vault, built for the depository of valuable 
 papers, and formerly occupied by the Agents of the South Eastern Railway 
 Company ; that we severally witnessed the operations, which Mr. Hobbs 
 commenced at thirty-five minutes past eleven A. M., and opened the lock 
 within twenty-five minutes. Mr. Hobbs, having been requested to lock it 
 again, with his instruments, accomplished it in the short space of seven 
 minutes, without the slightest injury to the lock or door (having previously 
 had the assurance of Mr. Bell that the keys had never been accessible to 
 Mr. Hobbs, he having permission to examine the key holes only). AVe found 
 a plate at the back of the door with the following inscription : " Chubb s 
 new patent (No. 161, 461), St. Paul s Church Yard, London, maker to Her 
 Majesty." Signed by English gentlemen. 
 
 The annexed remarks from the London Times on the Lock controversy, 
 and the trial made upon Bramah s lock, by Mr. Hobbs, we give in prefer 
 ence to any remarks of our own, as the whole matter is treated with very 
 commendable fairness, and atones for much which the Times took occasion 
 to say of our articles in the early stages of the Exhibition. 
 
 "We believed before the Exhibition opened, that we had the best locks 
 in the world, and among us, Bramah and Chubb were reckoned quite as im 
 pregnable as Gibraltar more so, indeed, for the key of the Mediterranean 
 was taken by us, but none among us could penetrate into the locks and shoot 
 the bolts of these makers. In this faith, we had quietly established our 
 selves for years, and it seems cruel at this time of day, when men have been 
 taught to look at their bunches of keys, and at their drawers and safes with 
 something like confidence, to scatter that feeling to the winds. The me 
 chanical spirit, however, is never at rest, and if it is lulled into a false state 
 of listlessness in one branch of industry, and in one part of the world, else 
 where it springs up suddenly to admonish and reproach us with our supine- 
 ness. Our descendants on the other side of the water are every now and 
 then administering to the mother country a wholesome filial lesson upcu 
 this veiy text, and recently they have been "rubbing us up" with a severity 
 which perhaps we merited for sneering at their short comings in the Exhi- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 611 
 
 bition. While we have been relying implicitly upon the artful arrangement 
 of, "tumblers" and such like devices, they have been carefully developing 
 their ingenuity in picking and opening locks. A man makes a lock, and 
 he brings it to a Mechanics Institute in New York with a certain sum of 
 money secured by it, which sum becomes the property of the successful 
 operator, who can shoot back the bolt of the new contrivance. Instantly 
 astute heads, and clever, expert hands are engaged in solving the mechanical 
 riddle thus propounded to them, and so far have these dexterous manipula 
 tors carried their art, that their "open sesame" sweeps springs, tumblers, 
 false notches, letter devices, and everything else before it. Mr. Hobbs is by 
 far the most accomplished and successful of these performers, and he has 
 come over to this country at a very opportune moment to teach our makers 
 a very useful lesson. It is well known, however Mr. Chubb may wrestle 
 with the statement, that Mr. Hobbs has succeeded, by perfectly fair m eans, 
 in opening his locks as they have hitherto been made ; no formal and de 
 liberate trial has taken place between them to establish the fact, but it never 
 theless remains undoubted, and the sooner Mr. Chubb improves his patent, 
 so as to set Mr. Hobbs at defiance, the better for his own interests. 
 
 " Bramah & Co., have acted with more pluck, and have been beaten in 
 a fair open field. They have acted with so much bold, open courage, that 
 even when Mr. Hobbs success was ascertained by us, we were reluctant to 
 state the facts positively and circumstantially, until the award of the arbiters 
 appointed on the subject, had been made. That document we now publish, 
 and the public, we are sure, when they read it, will not think the less of a 
 firm whkh has been vanquished in a fair stand-up fight, maintained for so 
 long a period, and against such extraordinary skill." 
 
 "Report of the Arbitrators, to whom the Bramah Lock controversy was 
 referred : 
 
 Whereas, for many years past, a padlock has been exhibited in the 
 window of the Messrs. Bramah s shop, in Piccadily, to which was appended 
 a label with these words; the artist who will make an instrument that will 
 pick or open this lock, will receive two hundred guineas the moment it is 
 produced ; and Mr. Hobbs of America, having obtained permission from the 
 Messrs. Bramah, to make a trial of his skill, in opening said lock, Messrs. 
 Bramah and Mr. Hobbs, severally agreed that Mr. George Rennie, F. R. S., 
 London, and Professor Cowper, of King s College, London, and Dr. Black, 
 of Kentucky, should be the Arbitrators between the parties. On the 23d of 
 July, it was agreed that the lock should be inclosed in a block of wood 
 and screwed to a door, and the screws sealed, the key-hole and hasp only 
 being accessible to Mr. Hobbs ; and when he was not operating, the key-hole 
 to be covered with a band of iron, and sealed by Mr. Hobbs ; that no other 
 person should have access to the keyhole. The key was also sealed up, 
 and not to be used till Mr. Hobbs had finished his operations. If Mr. Hobbs 
 succeeded in picking or opening the lock, the key was to be tried, and if it 
 locked and unlocked the padlock, it should be considered a proof that Mr. 
 Hobbs had not injured the lock, but picked and opened it, and was entitled 
 to the two hundred guineas. On the same day, July 23d, Messrs. Bramah 
 gave notice to Mr. Hobbs, that the lock was ready for operations. On July 
 24th, Mr. Hobbs commenced his operations, and on August 23d, Mr. Hobbs 
 39 
 
612 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 exhibited the lock open to Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper, Mr. Rennie being 
 out of town. Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper. then called on Mr. Edward 
 Bramah and Mr. Barzalgette, and showed them the lock open. They then 
 withdrew, and Mr. Hobbs locked and unlocked the padlock, in the presence 
 of Dr. Black and Prof. Cowper. Between July 24th and August 23d, Mr. 
 Hcbbs operations were for a time suspended, so that the number of days 
 occupied by him were sixteen, and the number of hours spent by him iu 
 the room with the lock was fifty one. On Friday, August 29th, Mr. Hob on 
 again locked and unlocked the padlock in the presence of Mr. George Rennie 
 Prof. Cowper, Dr. Black, Mr. Edward Bramah, Mr. Barzalgette, and Mr. 
 Abrahant. On Saturday, August 30th, the key was tried, and the padlock 
 was locked and unlocked with the key, by Prof. Cowper, Mr. Rennie and 
 Mr. Gelbertson, thus proving that Mr. Hobbs had fairly opened the lock with 
 out injuring it. Mr. Hobbs then formally produced the instruments with 
 which he had opened the lock. We are, therefore, unanimously of opinion, 
 that Messrs. Bramah have given Mr. Hobbs a fair opportunity of trying his 
 skill, and that Mr. Hobbs has fairly picked or opened the lock, and we decide 
 that Messrs. Bramah & Co. do now pay to Mr. Hobbs, two hundred guineas. 
 
 GEORGE RENNIE, Chairman. 
 
 EDWARD COWPER, 
 
 G. R. BLACK. 
 Holland Street, Blackfriars, Sept. 2, 1851." 
 
 This document is conclusive on the merits of the question. " This rough 
 lesson will probably lead Messrs. Bramah and Chubb to devise some means 
 for rendering their patents more secure, and we have no doubt they will 
 succeed." "An attempt will be made, it is said, to pick the American lock 
 and when it is remembered that our cousins show several locks, all of which 
 are represented as perfectly secure, it is high time for our lockmakers either 
 to show that the American patents are equally unsafe as their own, or to 
 acknowledge themselves beaten, and endeavor to make better locks for the 
 future." 
 
 The trial was made upon Day & Newell s lock, by one of the most 
 expert locksmiths to be found in England, and after a trial of thirty days, 
 the lock was returned by the judges, who were agreed upon, uninjured, the 
 operator not having made an impression upon it. So completely was the 
 security of the American locks established, that they were ordered for the 
 Bank of England, and in other directions, where safety was required and 
 a company has been organized for their manufacture in England, of which 
 Mr. Hobbs is the managing director. 
 
 Prize Medals were awarded to the United States, to Day & Newell for 
 their lock (with special approbation), to Adams & Co., for bank lock ; 
 Arrowsmith, for Permutation locks ; McGregor & Lee for bank lock, and 
 the exhibitors claimed equal security with Day & Newell s though they 
 were not put to the test so far as I was informed. 
 
 In one of the London journals, the foreign contributions were thus char 
 acterized. "France, Austria, Spain, Germany, Belgium, and the United 
 States, have furnished us with the finest specimens of their several excel 
 lence in cabinet-making, in each of which may be traced the mechanical 
 skill and prevailing taste of the present time. France is light, elegant, yet 
 
OF AMERICANS. 613 
 
 convenient in the form of her objects ; Austria is heavy, luxurious and co 
 lossal, with one or two exceptions ; America is smart, original and adapta- 
 tive,- while Spain has sent a Table, the wonder of the world, of inlayers and 
 m arqueteri e- workers." 
 
 The Exhibition from the United States was not large, yet our chairs, bed- 
 gteads, etc., were attractive to the visitors, and some of them novelties, which 
 many had never before seen. Our rocking chairs, and the chairs of the Troy- 
 Company, and the reclining chair of Ragan of Philadelphia, were examined 
 with no little interest. An Honorable Mention was made of the Reclining 
 chairs ; and the chairs of the American Chair Company, Troy, are being 
 manufactured in England, and are much esteemed. 
 
 GOODYEAR, from the United States, received a Council Medal for his In 
 dia Rubber Goods, antf I think his excelled all others in their extent, as 
 well as their adaptation to the various purposes for which they were de 
 signed. A new article, India Rubber Globes, which I had never before seen, 
 was shown by him. They are very convenient, can be inflated instantly, 
 and suspended for use, and when not wanted, can be packed away occupying 
 very little space. They were much admired. 
 
 CORN BROOMS, from this country, were exhibited of very great perfection, and 
 they attracted no little attention as they were objects of curiosity to the great 
 portion of the visitors who had never before seen a broom of this description. 
 
 From this country, POWERS GREEK SLAVE was the most finished work, 
 and although it received only a Prize Medal, it was, in the opinion of many, 
 entitled to a Council Medal. A young artist, by the name of Stephenson, 
 from this country, exhibited a statue of a wounded Indian, which was a 
 very striking one, and possessed much merit, and several of the distinguished 
 sculptors at the exhibition expressed the highest admiration of it. 
 
 The exhibition from the United States, and that from England, to a very 
 great extent, showed that private enterprise had furnished the contributions 
 exhibited and so far as this country was concerned, the character of our 
 contributions was such as to meet the wants and necessities of the great 
 body of the people. The testimony given by a leading journal in England, 
 is appropriate, in elucidating this fact. The writer, in speaking of the con 
 tributions from the United States, at a late day of the Exhibition, after 
 dwelling at length upon the very different character of the contributions 
 from the continent, and from England, says : " Their industrial system, un 
 fettered by ancient usage, and by the pomp and magnificence which our 
 social institutions countenance, is essentially democratic in its tendencies. 
 They produce for the masses, and for a wholesale consumption. There is 
 hardly anything shown by them, which is no^ easily within the reach of the 
 most moderate fortune. No government favoritism raises any branch of 
 manufactures to a pre-eminence which secures for it the patronage of the 
 wealthy. Everything is intrusted to the ingenuity of individuals, who look 
 for their reward to public demand alone. With an immense command of 
 raw produce, they do not, like many other countries, skip over the wants of 
 the many, and rush to supply the luxuries of the few. On the contrary, 
 they have turned their attention eagerly and successfully to machinery, as 
 the first stage in their industrial progress. They seek to supply the short 
 comings of their labor market, and to combine utility with cheapness. 
 
614 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 The most ordinary commodities are not beneath their notice, and even 
 nursery chairs are included in their collection of notions. They have 
 beaten us in Yacht building, they pick our best locks, they show us how to 
 reap corn by machinery, and to make Brussels carpets by the power loom. 
 Our coopers will hear with dismay, and our brewers with satisfaction, that 
 by an invention of theirs recently introduced into the Exhibition, one man 
 can do the work of twenty in stave-making, and far more efficiently. Such 
 triumphs do not much affect the mechanical superiority of the mother coun 
 try, but they serve to show, that while, on the one side, nations less free and 
 enlightened than ours, teach us how to throw a luster and grace over tho 
 peaceful arts ; our own children are now and then able to point out how wo 
 can improve and extend them." 
 
 I have given these remarks, because they were drawn out by the results 
 of the trial of our implements, which led to a more candid and thorough ex 
 amination of all we had on exhibition, and elicited this tribute to American 
 Institutions, and the enterprise of our citizens ; and it is also the more readily 
 given, as it was the very conclusion, which at an early day in the Exhibition, 
 was presented to a distinguished journalist, as the one to which he would be 
 constrained to come, when an opportunity was afforded us, of practically de 
 monstrating the value of our implements, which were then untried. It is im 
 portant also, as showing the great change which had taken place in the public 
 mind in regard to the American quarter, which, instead of being the "prairie 
 ground," as in derision called, became the observed of all observers. 
 
 As a further evidence of the practical character and adaptation of many of 
 our articles to the wants of the age, 1 give another extract from the same 
 journal, in an article giving an account of the progress made bv the British 
 and Americans through the trials of the season. After alluding to the British 
 portion of the contributions, it is remarked of the American, " On the other 
 hand, it is beyond all denial, that every practical success of the season belongs 
 to the Americans. Their consignments showed poorly, at first, but came 
 out well upon trial. Their reaping machine has carried conviction to the 
 heart of the British agriculturalist. Their revolvers threaten to revolutionize 
 military tactics, as completely as the original discovery of gunpowder. Their 
 Yacht takes a class to itself. Of all the victories ever won, none has been 
 so transcendent as that of the New York Schooner. The account given of 
 her performance, suggests the inapproachable excellence attributed to JU 
 PITER, by the ancient poets, who describe the King of the Gods as being 
 not only supreme, but having none other next to him. What s first ? The 
 America. What s second? Nothing. Besides this, the Baltic, one of 
 Collins line of steamers, has made the fastest passage yet known, across 
 the Atlantic. Finally, as if to crown the triumphs of the year, Americans 
 have actually sailed through the Isthmus, connecting the two continents of 
 the New World, and while Englishmen have been doubting and grudging, 
 Yankees have stepped in and won the day. So we think, on the whole, 
 that we may afford to shake hands and exchange congratulations, after which 
 we must learn as much as we can from each other." In concluding another 
 article on the Exhibition, it is said, " Great Britain has received more useful 
 ideas and more ingenious inversions from the United States, through the ex 
 hibition, than from all other sources." 
 
OF AMERICANS. 615 
 
 VICTORY OF THE YACHT AMERICA. 
 
 The New York Yacht America arrived at Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, 
 early in July, 1851, and her owner, John C. Stephens, at once offered a 
 heavy wager to sail her against any yacht in the world. She was visited 
 by multitudes from every part of England, but her challenge was not ac 
 cepted. 
 
 On the 18th of August, there was a race of seventeen yachts, owned by 
 gentlemen from every part of Great Britain, contending for the prize of the 
 golden cup, which the queen gives every year to the best yacht in the king 
 dom. The America was entered for the race, and won it so easily, as to 
 excite the unbounded admiration and applause of the English people, who 
 with a hearty generosity waved their hats and huzzaed at the sight of the 
 brilliant success of the Yankee schooner, over a whole fleet of their choicest 
 yachts. 
 
 On the 25th of August, there was another race by the squadron, but the 
 America was not entered. The wind was light, and the last vessel of the 
 squadron had been under weigh an hour and five minutes, when the America 
 hoisted sail and followed. The race was round the Isle of Wight, and she 
 came in only ten minutes behind the winner, thus having accomplished the 
 distance in fifty-five minutes less time than the fastest of the English yachts. 
 
 Mr. Stephenson, the distinguished English engineer, then offered to sail 
 his yacht the Titania, for a small wager against the America. The offer was 
 accepted and the race came off on the 28th of August. The wind was fresh 
 and the course was forty miles out and forty back. Earl Wilton was umpire. 
 The America won the race by a long distance. 
 
 We give a detailed account of the first of these trials, that of August 18th, 
 when the queen and royal family were witnesses of the triumph of our 
 countrymen. It is extracted from the London Times. 
 
 " The telegraphic dispatch which appeared in the Times this morning 
 s.ated the great fact that the America had beaten the yachts which had 
 started against her on Friday, for the Royal Yacht Squadron Cup of one 
 hundred pounds value in the most complete and triumphant manner. It 
 now remains to give the particulars of the event, as one of no ordinary in 
 terest. A large portion of the peerage and gentry of the United Kingdom, 
 loft their residences, to witness the struggle between the yachtsmen of Eng 
 land, hitherto unmatched and unchallenged, and the Americans who had 
 crossed the Atlantic to meet them. Even the Queen of England did not 
 deem the occasion unworthy of her presence. Until within a few days no 
 Englishman ever dreamed that any nation could produce a yacht with the 
 least pretensions to match the efforts of our eminent builders. 
 
 In the yacht list, for this very year, there is an assertion which every man 
 within sight of sea water from the Clyde to the Solent would swear to that 
 yacht building, was an art in which England was unrivaled, and that she 
 was distinguished pre-eminently and alone for the perfection of science in 
 handling them. The conduct of the Americans since their arrival in the 
 Solent, had been bold, manly and straight- for ward qualities, which Eng 
 lishmen respect wherever they are found, and love to see even in an oppo 
 nent 
 
616 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 In the memory of man, Cowes never presented such an appearance as on 
 last Friday. There must have been upward of one hundred yachts lying at 
 anchor in the roads; the beach was crowded, the esplanade in front of the 
 club house thronged with ladies and gentlemen, and with the people from 
 the main land, who came over in shoals to the island, with wives, sons and 
 daughters for the day. Booths were erected all along the quay, and ths 
 roadstead was alive with boats, while from sea and shore arose an incessant 
 buzz of voices, mingled with the splashing of oars, the flapping of sails and 
 the hissing of steam from the excursion vessels preparing to accompany the 
 race. The windows of the houses which commanded the harbor were filled 
 from the parlor to the attic, and the old salts on the beach gazed moodily 
 on the low black hull of the Yankee, and spoke doubtingly of the chances 
 of her competitors, for the few trial runs the America had made after her 
 arrival proved she was of great speed, and had given them such a taste of 
 her quality that they were truly apprehensive of the result. Some thought 
 the Volante might prove a teazer if the wind was light, others speculated 
 on the Alarm doing mischief if the wind was heavy enough to bring out 
 her qualities, in beating up to windward and in tacking ; while more were 
 of the opinion that the America would carry off the cup, blow high or 
 blow low. 
 
 It was with the greatest difficulty that the little town gave space enough 
 to the multitudes that came from all quarters to witness an event so novel 
 and interesting. Among the visitors were many strangers, Frenchmen en 
 route for Havre, Germans in quiet wonderment at the excitement around 
 them, and Americans already triumphing in the anticipated success of their 
 countrymen. 
 
 The following yachts were entered and moored in a double line, in the order 
 in which they here follow. Beatrice, Volante, Arrow, Wyvern, lone, Con 
 stance, Titania, Gipsey-Queen, Alarm, Mona, America, Brilliant, Bochante 
 Freak, Stella, Eclipse, Fernande and Aurora. At five minutes before ten 
 o clock, the preparatory gun was fired, from the club house battery, and the 
 yachts were soon sheeted from deck to topmast, with clouds of canvas. The 
 whole flotilla not in the race, were already in motion to get a good start of 
 the clippers and witness the race. 
 
 At ten o clock, the signal gun for sailing was fired, and before the smoke 
 had well cleared away the whole of the beautiful fleet was under way, 
 moving steadily to the east, with the tide and a gentle breeze. The start 
 was effected splendidly, the yachts breaking away like a field of race horses ; 
 the only laggard was the America, which did not move for a second or so 
 after the others. 
 
 Steamers, shore boats and yachts, of all sizes buzzed along on each 
 side of the course, and spread away for miles over the rippling sea such a 
 sight as the Adriatic never beheld in all the pride of Venice ; such, beaten 
 though we are, as no other country in the world could exhibit, while it is 
 confessed that anything like it was never seen even here in the annals of 
 yachting. 
 
 The Gipsey-Queen with all her canvas set, and in the strength of the 
 tide, took the lead after starting, with the Beatrice next, and then with little 
 inference in order, the Volante, Constance, Arrow and a flock of others. 
 
OF AMERICANS. 617 
 
 The America went easily for some time under mainsail with a small gaff top 
 sail, forsail, forestaysail and jib ; while her opponents had every cloth set 
 that the club regulations allow. She soon began to creep upon them, and 
 in a quarter of an hour she had left them all behind, except the Constance, 
 Beatrice and Gipsey-Queen, which went along smartly, together with the 
 light breeze. As the glorious pageant passed under Osborne House, the sight 
 was surpassing fine, the whole expanse of sea, from shore to shore, being 
 filled as it were with a countless fleet. At half past ten, the Gipsey-Queen 
 caught a draft of wind, arid ran past the Constance, Arrow, America and 
 Alarm, being nearly in a line. At a quarter to eleven, the breeze freshened 
 again for a few minutes, and the America passed the Arrow, Constance and 
 Alarm, but could not shake off the Volante, nor come up with the Gipsey- 
 Queen, and exclamations were heard of Well, Brother Jonathan is not 
 going to have it all his own way. Passing Ryde, the excitement on shore 
 was very great ; but the America was forging ahead, and lessening the 
 number of her rivals every moment. The Sandheads were rounded by the 
 Volante, Gipsey-Queen and America at eleven o clock. Again the wind 
 freshened, and the fast yachts came rushing up before it, the run from the 
 Sandheads beinsj most exciting and well contested. 
 
 At Norman s Land buoy, the wind blew more steadily, and the America 
 began to show a touch of her quality. Whenever the breeze took the line 
 of her hull, all the sails set as flat as a dram head, and without any careening 
 or staggering, she walked along past cutter and schooner, and when off 
 Brading had left every vessel in the squadron behind her a mere ruck 
 except the Volante, which she overtook at half past eleven, when she very 
 quietly hauled down her jib, as much as to say she would give her rival 
 every odds, and laid herself out for the race back of the island. The weather 
 showed symptoms of improvement as far as yachting was concerned ; the 
 waves rolled their white caps under the increasing breeze, and the Yankee 
 flew like the wind leaping over, not against the water, and increasing her 
 distance from the Gipsey-Queen, Volante and Alarm every instant. 
 
 The way her sails were set evinced superiority in the cutting, which our 
 makers would barely allow ; but certain it is that while the jibs and main 
 sails of her antagonists were bellied out, her canvass was as flat as a sheet 
 of paper. No foam, but rather a water jet arose from her bow ; and the 
 greatest point of resistance and resistance there must be somewhere seemed 
 about the beam, or just forward of her mainmast, for the sea flashed off from 
 her sides, at that point every time she met them. While the cutters vere 
 thrashing through the water, and sending the spray over their bows, and the 
 schooners were wet up to the foot of the foremast, the America was as dry 
 as a bone. 
 
 When off Sandown, a few minutes past twelve, the breeze lulled away. 
 While running under Dunnoze, at two minutes- to one, her jib beam broke 
 short off. This accident gave her opponents advantage of about quarter of 
 an hour, while she was gathering in the wreck. But it was of little use to 
 them. Looking away to the east, they were visible at great distances, 
 standing in shore or running in and out most helplessly astern. Her supe 
 riority was so decided, that several of the yachts wore and went back agaiu 
 to Cowes in despair. 
 
618 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 At twenty minutes to six, the Aurora, the nearest yacht was fully seve\ 
 and a half miles astern, the Freak eight and a half miles, and the reut no 
 where. The America was at this time close to the Needles. Two of tho 
 excursion steamers ran into Alum Bay and anchored. While waiting there 
 in intense anxiety for the first vessel that should shoot round the immense 
 pillars of chalk and limestone which comprise what is called the Needles^ 
 the passengers were delighted to behold the Victoria and Albert (on board 
 of which was the queen, her husband and suite) steaming round from the 
 northwest. Her majesty, the prince, and the royal family, were visible by the 
 aid of a glass from the excursion steamers. Soon all doubt and speculation, 
 if any there could have been, was removed by the appearance of the Amer 
 ica, hauling her wind round the cliff at ten minutes to six. When under 
 the shore all the steamers weighed and accompanied her, giving three cheers 
 as she passed, a compliment which owners and crew acknowledged with 
 uncovered heads and waving hats. At ten minutes past six, the America 
 got in a line with the Victoria and Albert. 
 
 Though it is not usual, to recognize the presence of her majesty on such 
 occasions as a racing match, no more indeed than a jockey would pull up his 
 horse, to salute the queen when in the middle of his stride, the America 
 instantly lowered her ensign blue, with white stars the commodore took 
 off his hat, and all his crew following his order and example, remained with 
 uncovered hei>ds for some minutes till they had passed a mark of respect 
 to the queen not the less becoming because it was bestowed by republicans. 
 The steamers as she passed on, renewed their cheering and the private bat 
 tery of some excellent gentleman opened fire, with a royal salute, as tho 
 Victoria and Albert slowly steamed alongside the America. 
 
 When off Cowes, near the starting point, were innumerable yachts, and on 
 every side was heard the hail. 
 
 Is the America first ? 
 
 The answer, Yes ! 
 
 What second ? 
 
 The reply, Nothing! 
 
 On the evening of the day after the race, a reunion took place at the club 
 house, and the occasion was taken of the presence of Mr. Abbot Lawrence, 
 the American minister, to compliment him on the success of his countrymen. 
 His excellency acknowledged the kindness in suitable terms, and said that 
 though he could not but be proud of the triumph of his fellow-citizens, ho 
 still felt it was but the children giving a lesson to the father. 
 
 We have thus undeniably been beaten, but we have been beaten with a good 
 grace and our conquerors are the first to admit it. They speak in the highest 
 terms of the condescension and kindness of the aristocracy they had been 
 taught to believe arrogant and unbending, and acknowledge in the warmest 
 way the affability and courtesy of the gentry and of the various clubs. 
 
 This evening the America sailed from Cowes to Osborne, in consequence 
 of an intimation, that the queen wished to inspect her. At a quarter past 
 six, the queen embarked in the state barge, accompanied by his royal high 
 ness, Prince Albert and suite, and on nearing the America the national colors, 
 were dipped out of respect to her majesty, and raised again when she had 
 proceeded on board. The queeu made a close inspection of the America 
 
OF AMERICANS. 619 
 
 and expressed great admiration of the general arrangements, and character 
 of this famous schooner." 
 
 When the tidings reached onr country, that the "America liad beaten ihs 
 world," the electric telegraph everywhere burned with welcome news. " The 
 cry was causjhy up by millions, and congratulations of joy went reverberating 
 from the sterile hills of New England until they were answered back from 
 the orange groves of the distant Mississippi." 
 
 The magnanimity with which the English people cheered the America, 
 on witnessing her triumph over their whole fleet of choicest yachts we fear 
 would not have been paralleled under similar circumstances by our country 
 men. The Liverpool Journal from which we now quote, furnished a speci 
 men of the comments which this event drew from the English press. 
 
 " When Charlemagne saw the sail of the Northmen in the Mediterranean 
 he covered his face with his hands and wept, in a prescience of the future. 
 When Queen Victoria, yesterday week, witnessed the triumph of an American 
 sail in a channel that washes her marine residence on the Isle of Wight, she 
 did what Charlemagne ought to have done she took note of the excellence 
 which had achieved a victory, tacitly telling her subjects to profit by rivalry 
 and keep their proud place in the advance of nations. The United States 
 of America, now occupy that place on the globe which presents advantages 
 unknown to all ancient and contemporary nations. She reposes betw r een 
 two oceans, one washing Europe, the other Asia. Nothing was wanting to 
 the local enthronement of civilization but aptitude in the inhabitants ; and 
 the history of the past week, gives ample testimony to its abundant exist 
 ence. In practical science we admitted no rivalry for more than a century ; 
 in trade we despised competition ; and we claimed indisputably the sove 
 reignty of the seas. For some time, however, the Yankees have been quietly 
 encroaching on our maritime privilege by the rigid application of the great 
 principles of commerce and science. They have, compared with ourselves, 
 been equally enterprising they have been more skillful ; and while we pay 
 willing homage to genius in whomsoever manifested, it is a mortification that 
 in our waters, an American yacht won the prize from the yachts of all na 
 tions, and that an American-built steamer has made the quickest passage 
 across the Atlantic. The Yankees are no longer to be ridiculed, much less 
 despised. The new world is bursting into greatness walking past the old 
 world, as the America did the yachts at Cowes, hand over hand. She 
 dipped her star-spangled banner to the royalty of Great Britain, for supe 
 riority is ever courteous; and this graceful act indicates the direction in 
 which our inevitable competition should proceed, America, in her own 
 phrase, is going ahead, and will assuredly pass us unless we accelerate our 
 speed ; and if our competitors once pass us, we are lost." 
 
 The results of the exhibition and the yacht race were so astonishing that 
 it led to much philosophizing, by the English press, upon America and the 
 Americans. The British Quarterly Review came out in an article upon this 
 subject, from which we take a few paragraphs, which are worthy of record 
 for their general truthfulness and insight into the workings of our institutions. 
 " First of all then, the Americans are a nation ; they display and are per 
 vaded by a most intense spirit of nationality. No small nation of the Old 
 World not the Swiss, not the Scotch before the Union, not the Danes, nr 
 
620 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 possessed and animated in so extreme a degree by the pure sentiment of nation 
 ality as this large and highly-factitious nation of North America. True, the 
 Union is divisible into four groups of States, presenting very marked differ 
 ences from each other, as regards interests, social condition, and even physi 
 ognomy. First, there is the New England group of States the land of 
 the genuine Yankees, the hard-headed, laborious, dogmatic, shrewd, free, 
 and enterprising descendants of the old Puritans. Next, there is the middle 
 group of States the seat of the great commercial interests, and of the more 
 comprehensive political tendencies, of the Union. Then there is the 
 southern group of States the seat of slavery, and of aristocratic leisure and 
 luxury, and the population of which, though less industrious, enterprising, 
 and even intellectual than the New Englanders, are yet distinguished as 
 having supplied the greatest number of statesmen to the Union. Lastly, 
 there is the western group of States the land of independent small farmers, 
 the paradise of the agricultural immigrant, and the home of absolute demo 
 cratic equality. But though these four groups of States have their distin 
 guishing characteristics, and even their points of antagonism, in some cases 
 exaggerated (as in the slavery controversy between the South and the 
 North), into threats of political disruption ; yet, on the whole, the inhabit 
 ants of all the four have no deeper feeling than that which displays itself 
 in the boast that they are Americans. The nationality of the Americans is, 
 as we all know, proverbially offensive. There never was a nation on the 
 earth so vain of its own merits, and so contemptuous of the merits of others. 
 Are we not a great nation, sir ? is their salutation to every foreign traveler in 
 the States ; and the common phrases of bombast put into the mouths of 
 Americans in works of fiction, We are an almighty fine people ; We can 
 put the Atlantic in one pocket, and the Pacific in another, arid reduce the 
 universe to nowhere and a spot of grease, are hardly exaggerations of the 
 actual slang with which the Americans regale their own sense of their 
 national importance. Disagreeable in individuals, this national braggardism 
 is formidable and respectable when viewed as characteristic of a people in 
 the aggregate; and its possession by a people composed ethnographically of 
 such heterogeneous elements is an illustration of Kossuth s remark, that the 
 nation of every man is not a certain fragment of population marked out for 
 him by considerations of race or even of language, but the seat of those 
 social forms under whose influence his being has been developed. Even a 
 black in America disclaims being an African, and says proudly, when he is 
 asked to what country he belongs, I am an American. 
 
 In the second place, the Americans are not only a nation, full to the brim 
 of the consciousness of nationality ; they are also entitled, according to any 
 test or measure that can be applied to them, to rank high in the cosmopo- 
 litical scale. Tried by the numerical measure of population they are already 
 on a par with Great Britain, and will soon leave it behind. Even Russia, 
 with its fifty millions, must regard America as a full-grown nation. Again, 
 tried by the test of exports and imports that is, of commercial necessity to 
 the rest of the world the United States hold a place with the first. Fur 
 ther, if we make military and naval prowess the test of cosmopolitical im 
 portance, America will still stand second to none. She has already, in th*. 
 past, given sufficient proof of her capacities for fighting, both by sea ana 
 
OF AMERICANS. 621 
 
 land ; and, if it be not yet admitted that the Americans fire superior to the 
 English at sea, it is at least certain that the despotic powers of the Old 
 World would be more chary of insulting the star-spangled banner, than of 
 insulting the flag of England. A Yankee captain, indeed, is notoriously 
 the most terrible thing going ; and chips of the American block generally, 
 though they are recognized everywhere as the most braggart and irreverent 
 of the sons of men, are recognized, also, as the most dangerous to be locked 
 up or called in question for anything they say or do. Add to all this the 
 consideration that in all departments of intellectual labor America is a lead 
 ing nation. In art and literature, indeed, as well as in the higher walks of 
 pure speculative science, America is yet behind- England ; though there is 
 evidence, even now, that a spirit of more original effort in such things is at 
 work among the Americans. But in the application of science to the social 
 uses, in industrial invention, and generally in such exercises of the intellect 
 as give a country practical eminence among the nations of the workM^ey 
 have already an acknowledged superiority. Among the machines for agri 
 cultural and other purposes sent to the Great Exhibition, those sent from 
 America were the most useful ; and Colt s pistol is but one example of an 
 invention proceeding from America, and claiming instantly the attention of 
 the whole world. Essentially the same thing, in reality, with this claim of 
 America to high cosmopolitical estimation, in virtue of her Colt s pistols, 
 her improved plows, reaping machines, models of ships, and the like, is 
 her claim to the cosmopolitical estimation in virtue of the fact that she is 
 already in possession of a great many conclusions on important social ques 
 tions, which are, by their very nature, interesting to all the world alike, and 
 that she is at present the richest known field of experimentation, with a 
 view to the elucidation of other social questions. 
 
 The very thing that most of all gives a country cosmopolitical importance, 
 is its ability to furnish out of its own experience answers to the questions that 
 chance at the moment to bo of greatest social interest to other countries, or 
 to exhibit going on within its bosom processes and experiments, the issue of 
 which is not yet clear perhaps even to itself, but which are curious, novel, 
 and suggestive in their nature. Russia, in this respect, is almost a blank on 
 the map. It has a claim to cosmopolitical respect, because it is a formidable 
 power of conquest, and because it supplies us with hemp and the like ; but 
 who ever looks to Russia for solutions of problems common to all parts of 
 the world, or for brilliant social sights and suggestions ? America, on the 
 other hand, is like a black-board on which something new is ever being 
 chalked up, whether in the way of solution or of interrogation. For ex 
 ample, the entire political system of America is a practical solution of the 
 great problem, everywhere important, of the reconciliation of local self- 
 government with federation. The question of national defenses without 
 standing armies is also set in a new light to us by the militia system of 
 America ; while the question of the competence of a people to act on the 
 aggressive, without standing armies, also receives light from the experience 
 of America in volunteer enterprises. A hundred such examples might ba 
 given of points of great social interest, on which America may be said to 
 have fully made up its mind, while the other nations are still only bungling 
 in th.2 dark. Lastly, what are such odd manifestations as the spirit rapping* 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 the Mormonite outburst with its consequences, and all the other similar 
 developments of American inquisitiveness or credulity, but chalkings, as it 
 were, on the black-board of the world for the other nations to look at ? If 
 it be the case that humanity has not yet filled out its utmost constitutional 
 limits, but that from age to age it is continually efflorescing into new man 
 ifestations, which seem at first anomalies, but are in reality normal and 
 natural, where shall we look for the last efflorescence, the freshest sprouts, 
 but in that country where human nature is newest and most advanced ? 
 
 The third remark we would make about the American nation, regarded 
 from our present point of view, is that no nation of the world seems to com 
 bine such an incessant and universal disposition to political activity, with 
 such a beggarly show of internal political questions whereon to gratify that 
 disposition. The American nation combines, more conspicuously than any 
 other yet known, extreme sociability, that is, an extreme anxiety on the 
 par^l individuals to concern themselves with the general politics of the 
 state, with extreme individual freedom that is, an extreme want of apparent 
 necessity for any political activity at all. The ancient Athenians, in the 
 days of their palmy democracy, were not characterized by greater political 
 zeal and activity than the Americans. Every American is an active politi 
 cian ; every American, as a citizen, has an interest in public affairs, widen 
 ing from the little circle of his own neighborhood to the great area of the 
 federal government. Hence a development among the Americans of all 
 kinds of political aptitude aptitude in business arrangements for a political 
 purpose, in public speaking on political questions, and the like unrivaled 
 among any other modern people. Stump-oratory among the Americans is 
 as necessary a part of their civilization as was the eloquence of popular 
 assemblies among the Athenians. And yet, with all this political energy 
 diffused among individuals, the fields of disputed points over which political 
 energy may range, might seem to be less important and extensive than in 
 any of the older nations. In America, the great questions of civil liberty, 
 of the sovereignty of the people, of a state church or no state church, of 
 secular or ecclesiastical education these, and all the other great questions 
 of life or death, which are and for a long time will be the standing difficul 
 ties against which political e*nergy in the older countries must dash and dis 
 play itself, have been settled and extinguished. Even pauperism has hardly 
 the rank of a great public question in a country where there is such indefi 
 nite room for an expansion of the population. With the exception of the 
 single matter of slavery, there seems to be no question in the internal poli 
 tics of America of very great magnitude, as measured by a general human 
 standard. In short, that general Condition-of-America question, on which 
 the politicians and people of the United States divide themselves into parties, 
 seems, to eyes looking on them from the outside, to be a mere aggregate of a 
 great number of little questions of finance and the like, floating on the wave of 
 passing circumstances. Yet, out of this most hopeless condition of things, 
 as it might seem, for political activity, the Americans have contrived to raiso 
 a whirlwind and palaver, such as has hardly ever been seen even in a country 
 agonized by questions of death, and life, and liberty. Nowhere does party- 
 spirit run so high as in the United States, nowhere is political controversy 
 carried on with greater virulence and more tremendous excitement." 
 
ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICANS ABROAD. 
 
 A COLLECTION OF INTERESTING MISCELLANIES. 
 
 " LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," is a chivalrous expression, inasmuch as the 
 word which indicates the gentler sex first drops from the lips. In accord 
 ance with the idea upon which this custom is founded, viz : prior attention 
 to that important part of creation who alone furnish mothers, wives, and 
 sisters we begin this article with an account of a lady, one, too, of the 
 "strong-minded" sort, who was fully capable of taking care of herself in 
 all situations. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF THE ECCENTRIC AND PATRIOTIC FEMALE ARTIST, PATIENCE 
 
 WRIGHT. 
 
 This extraordinary woman, whose name belongs to the history of Amer 
 ican Art, and whose patriotism should make her known to the American 
 people, v/as born in Bordentown, New Jersey, in the year 1725, and, like 
 West, among a sect who eschewed images or pictures, for her parents were 
 also Quakers. Her maiden name was Lovell, and at twenty-three years of 
 age she married Joseph Wright, who died in 1769. 
 
 Dunlap, in his "History of the Arts of Design," gives this account of 
 her : " She made her earliest attempts at molding before she had any works 
 of art. From childhood, the dough intended for the oven, or the clay 
 found near the house, assumed in her hands somewhat the semblance of a 
 man, and, soon the likenesses of the individuals with whom she associated. 
 Before the year 1772, she had made herself famous for likenesses in wax, 
 in the cities of her native country, and when a widow with three children, 
 was enabled to seek more extensive fame, and more splendid fortune in the 
 metropolis of Great Britain. There is ample testimony in the English pe 
 riodicals of the time, that her work was considered of an extraordinary 
 kind : and her talent for observation and conversation for gaining knowl 
 edge and eliciting information, and for communicating her stores, whether 
 original or acquired, gained her theffettention and friendship of many dis 
 tinguished men of the day. As she retained an ardent love for her coun 
 try, urid entered into the feelings of her injured countrymen during the war 
 of the revolution, she used the information she obtained by giving warning 
 of the intentions of their enemies, and especially corresponding with Ben 
 jamin Franklin, when he resided in Paris, having become intimate with 
 
 (623^ 
 
624 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 him in London. I have before me an engraving published in 1765, repre 
 senting Mrs. Wright at full length in the act of modeling a bust of a gen- 
 tleman. In the London Magazine of that year, she is styled the Prome 
 thean modeler. In that work it is said, In her very infancy she discov 
 ered a striking genius, and began with making faces with new bread and 
 putty, to such excellence that she was advised to try her skill in wax. 
 Her likenesses of the King, Queen, Lords Chatham and Temple, Messrs. 
 Barrc, Wilkes and others, attracted universal admiration. The above 
 writer says, Her natural abilities are surpassing, and had a liberal and ex - 
 tensive education been added to her innate qualities, she had been a pro 
 digy. She has an eye of that quick and brilliant water, that it penetrates 
 and darts through the person it looks on ; and practice has made her capa 
 ble of distinguishing the character and dispositions of her visitors, so that she 
 is very rarely mistaken, even in the minute point of manners ; much more 
 so hi the general cast of character. The only work that I distinctly recol 
 lect of Mrs. Wright s, is the full length of the great Lord Chatham, as it 
 stood in Westminster Abbey, in 1784, inclosed in a glass case. Anecdotes 
 are related of the eccentricities of Mrs. Wright. Her manners were not 
 those of a courtier. She once had the ear and favor of George the Third, 
 but lost it by scolding him for sanctioning the American war. She was in 
 timate with Mr. West and his family ; and the beautiful form and face of 
 her younger daughter are frequently to be found in hi s historical composi 
 tions. 
 
 In 1781, Mrs. Wright went to Paris. Her son, Joseph Wright, followed 
 in 1782, and remained in France during part of the year ; and I have be 
 fore me several of Mrs. Wright s letters to him, replete with afifectron and 
 good sense, written after her return to London : and likewise letters to him 
 in 1783, written to meet him in America. 
 
 In 1785, Mrs. Wright sent the following characteristic letter to Mr. Jef 
 ferson, then in Paris. 
 
 LONDON, at the Wax- Works, Aug. 14, 1785. 
 
 HONORED SIR I had the pleasure to hear that my son, Joseph Wright, 
 had painted the best likeness of our HERO Washington, of any painter in 
 America ; and my friends are anxious that I should make a likeness, a 
 bust in wax, to be placed in the state -house, or some public building that 
 may be erected by congress. The flattering letters from gentlemen of dis 
 tinguished virtues and rank, and one from that general himself, wherein he 
 says, he shall think himself happy to have his bust done by Mrs. Wright, 
 whose uncommon talents, etc., make me happy in the prospect of seeing 
 him in my own country. 
 
 I most sincerely wish not only to make the likeness of Washington, but 
 of those FIVE gentlemen who assisted at the signing of the treaty of peace 
 that put an end to so bloody and dreadful a war. The more public the 
 honors bestowed on such men by theiig^nintry, the better. To shame tlae 
 English king, I would go to any trouble and expense to add my mite in the 
 stock of honor due to Adams, Jefferson, and others, to send to America ; 
 and I will, if it is thought proper to pay my expense of traveling to Paris, 
 come myself and model the likeness of Mr. Jefferson ; and at the same 
 time see the picture, and, if possible by this painting, which is said to b 
 
OF AMERICANS. 625 
 
 BO like him, make a likeness of the general. I wish likewise to consult 
 with you, how best we may honor our country, by holding up the like 
 nesses of her eminent men, either in painting or wax-work. A statue in 
 m-arble is already ordered, and an artist (Houdon) gone to Philadelphia to 
 begin the work. This is as I wished and hoped. 
 
 The letter concludes by hinting the danger of sending Washington s pic 
 ture to London, from the enmity of the government, and the espionage of 
 the police ; which she says has all the folly, without the ability of the 
 French. She subscribes herself Patience Wright. In the same year, 
 this extraordinary woman died." 
 
 To this account from Dunlap, we annex some amusing facts and anec 
 dotes in regard to her, from the "Memoirs of Elkanah Watson," who first 
 met her in Paris, in 1781. 
 
 "I came oddly in contact with the eccentric Mrs. Wright, on my arrival 
 in Paris from Nantes. Giving orders from the balcony of the Hotel 
 d York, to my English servant, I was assailed by a powerful female voice, 
 crying out from an upper story : 
 
 Who are you ? an AMERICAN, I hope ! J 
 
 1 Yes, madam, I replied, and who are you ? 
 
 In two minutes she came blustering down stairs, with the familiarity of 
 an old acquaintance. We were soon on the most excellent terms. I dis 
 covered that she was in the habit of daily intercourse with Franklin, and 
 was visited and caressed by ,all the respectable Americans in Paris. The 
 wild flights of her powerful mind stamped originality on all her acts and 
 language. She was a tall and athletic figure ; walked with a firm, bold 
 step, and as erect as an Indian. Her complexion was somewhat sallow 
 her cheek-bones high her face furrowed, and her olive eyes keen, piercing 
 and expressive. Her sharp glance was appalling ; it had almost the wild- 
 ness of the maniac. 
 
 The vigor and originality of her conversation corresponded with her ap 
 pearance and manners. She would utter language in her incessant volu 
 bility, as if unconscious to whom directed, that would put her hearers to 
 the blush. She apparently possessed the utmost simplicity of heart and 
 character. 
 
 With the head of wax upoif her lap, she would mold the most accurate 
 likenesses, by the mere force of a retentive recollection of the traits and 
 lines of the countenance ; she would form her likenesses by the manipula 
 tion of thft wax with her thumb and finger. While thus engaged, her 
 strong mind poured forth an uninterrupted torrent of wild thought, and an- 
 dotes and reminiscences of men and events. She went to London about 
 the year 1767, near the period of Franklin s appearance there as the agent 
 of Pennsylvania. The peculiarity of her character, and the excellence of 
 her wax figures, made her rooms in Pall Mall a fashionable lounging-place 
 for the nobility and distinguished men of England. Here her deep pene 
 tration and sagacity, cloaked by her apparent simplicity of purpose, enabled 
 her to gather many facts and secrets important to DEAR AMERICA her 
 uniform expression in reference to her native land, which she dearly loved. 
 
 She was a genuine republican and ardent whig. The king and queen 
 often visited her rooms : they would induce her to work upon her heads. 
 
626 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 regardless of their presence. She would often, as if forgetting herself, ad 
 dress them as George and Charlotte. This fact she often mentioned to me 
 herself. While in England, she communicated much important informa 
 tion to Franklin, and remained in London until 1775 or 1776, engaged in 
 that kind of intercourse with him and the American government, by whict 
 she was placed in positions of extreme hazard. 
 
 I saw her frequently in Paris, in 1781, and in various parts of England, 
 from 1782 to 1784. Her letters followed me in my travels through Eu 
 rope. I had assisted her at Paris ; had extended aid to her son at Nantes, 
 and given him a free passage in one of our ships to America. Her grati 
 tude was unbounded. This son was a painter and artist of some emi 
 nence, and in 1784 took a model of Washington s head in plaster. I 
 heard from Washington himself an amusing anecdote connected with this 
 bust. In January, 1785, I enjoyed the inestimable privilege of a visit un 
 der his roof, in the absence of all visitors. Among the many interesting 
 subjects which engaged our conversation in a long winter evening (the 
 most valuable of my life), in which his dignified lady and Miss Custis 
 united, he amused us by relating the incident of the taking of this model. 
 Wright came to Mt. Vernon, the general remarked, with the singular re 
 quest, that I should permit him to take a model of my face in plaster of 
 Paris, to which I consented with some reluctance. He oiled my features 
 over, and placing me flat upon my back, upon a cot, proceeded to daub my 
 face with the plaster. While in this ridiculous attitude, Mrs. Washington 
 entered the room, and seeing my face thus overspread with the piaster, in 
 voluntarily exclaimed. Her cry excited in me a disposition to smile, which 
 gave my mouth a slight twist, or compression of the lips, that is now ob 
 servable in the busts Wright afterward made. These are nearly the words 
 of Washington. 
 
 Some time after my acquaintance with Mrs. Wright commenced, she in 
 formed me that an eminent female chemist of Paris had written her a 
 note, that she would make her a visit at twelve o clock the next day, and 
 announced, also, that she could not speak English. Mrs. Wright desired 
 me to act as interpreter. At the appointed hour, the thundering of a car 
 riage in the court-yard announced the arrival of the French lady. She en 
 tered with much grace, in which Mrs. W. wjis no match for her. She was 
 old, with a sharp nose with broad patches of vermillion spread over the 
 deep furrows of her cheeks. I was placed in a chair between the two 
 originals. Their tongues flew with velocity, the one in English and the 
 other in French, and neither understanding a word the other uttered. I 
 saw no possibility of interpreting two such volleys of words, and at length 
 abruptly commanded SILENCE FOR A MOMENT. 
 
 I asked each, Do you understand ? Not a word, said Mrs. Wright. 
 N importe, replied the chemist, bounding from her chair in the midst of 
 the floor, and dropping a low curtsy was off. What an old painted fooV 
 said Mrs. W., in anger. It was evident that this visit was not intended for 
 an interchange of sentiment, but a mere act of civility a call. 
 
 I employed Mrs. W. to make the head of Franklin, which was often the 
 source of much amusement to me. After it was completed, both being in 
 vited to dine with Franklin, I conveyed her to Passy in my carriage, she 
 
OF AMERICANS. 627 
 
 bearing the head upon her lap. No sooner in the presence of the doctor, 
 than she had placed one head beside the other. There! ihe exclaimed, 
 are twin brothers ! The likeness was truly admirable, and at the sugges 
 tion of Mrs. Wright, to give it more effect, Franklin sent me a suit of 
 silk clothes he wore in 1778. Many years afterward, the head was broken 
 in Albany, and the clothes I presented to the Historical Society of Mas 
 sachusetts. 
 
 An adventure occurred to Mrs. Wright, in connection with this head, 
 ludicrous in the highest degree, and although almost incredible, is literally- 
 true. After the head had been modeled, she walked out to Passy, carry 
 ing it in a napkin, in order to compare it with the original. In returning 
 in the evening, she was stopped at the barrier in course, to be searched for 
 contraband goods ; but as her mind was as free as her native American air, 
 she knew no restraint, nor the reason why she was detained. She resisted 
 the attempt to examine her bundle, and broke out in a rage of fury. The 
 officers were amazed, as no explanation, in the absence of an interpreter, 
 could take place. She was compelled, however, to yield to power. The 
 bundle was opened, and, to the astonishment of the officials, exhibited the 
 head of a dead man, as appeared to them in the obscurity of the night. 
 They closed the^ bundle without further examination, believing, as they 
 afterward assured me, that she was an escaped maniac, who had committed 
 murder, and was about concealing the head of her victim. 
 
 They were determined to convey her to the police station, when she 
 made them comprehend her entreaties to be taken to the Hotel d York. I 
 was in my room, and hearing in the passage a great uproar, and Mrs. W. s 
 voice pitched upon a higher key than usual, I rushed out, and found her 
 in a terrible rage, her fine eye flashing. I thrust myself between her and 
 the officers, exclaiming, An, mon Dieu, qu est ce qu el y-a ? An expla 
 nation ensued. All except Mrs. W. were highly amused at the singularity 
 nnd absurdity of the affair. 
 
 The head and clothes I transmitted to Nantes they were the instru 
 ments of many frolics, not inappropriate to my youth, but perhaps it is 
 hardly safe to advert to them in my age. A few I will venture to relate. 
 On my arrival at Nantes, I caused the head to be properly adjusted to the 
 dress, which was arranged in a natural shape and dimensions. I. had the 
 figure placed in the corner of a large room, near a closet, and behind a 
 table. Before him I laid an open atlas, his arm resting upon the table, and 
 mathematical instruments strewn upon it. A handkerchief was thrown 
 over the arm stumps, wires were extended to the closet, by which means 
 the body could be elevated or depressed, and placed in various positions. 
 Thus arranged, some ladies and gentlemen were invited to pay their re 
 spects to Dr. Franklin, by candlelight. For a moment, they were com 
 pletely deceived, and all profoundly bowed and curtsied, which was recip 
 rocated by the figure. Not a word being uttered, the trick was soon re 
 vealed. 
 
 A report soon circulated that Doctor Franklin was at Monsieur Watson s 
 sour 1 Isle de Prydeau. At eleven o clock the next morning, the mayor 
 of Nantes came in full dress, to call on the renowned philosopher. Cos- 
 soul, my worthy partner, being acquainted with the mayor, favored the 
 40 
 
028 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 joke, for a moment after their mutual salutations. Others carne in, and all 
 were disposed to gull their friends in the same manner. 
 
 The most amusing of all the incidents connected with this head, occur 
 red in London, where I had sent it after the peace of 1783, when I had 
 established a bachelor s hall in that city. I placed the figure, in full dress, 
 with the head leaning out of the window, apparently gazing up and down 
 the square. He had formerly been well known in that part of the city 
 and was at once recognized. Observing a collection of people gathering al 
 another window looking at him, I ordered him down. 
 
 The morning papers announced the arrival of Doctor Franklin at an 
 American merchant s in Beliter square, and I found it necessary to contra 
 dict the report. In the interval, three Boston gentlemen who were in the 
 city, expressed a wish to pa} r their respects to the doctor. I desired them 
 to call in the evening, and bring their letters of introduction, which they 
 informed me they bore, expecting to see him at Paris. I concerted mea 
 sures with a friend, to carry the harmless deception to the utmost extent 
 on this occasion. Before entering, I apprised them that he was deeply en 
 gaged in examining maps and papers, and begged they would not be dis 
 turbed at any apparent inattention. Thus prepared, I conducted them into 
 a spacious room. Franklin was seated at the extremit} , with the atlas, etc., 
 and my friend at the wires. I advanced in succession with each, half 
 across the room, and introduced them by name. Franklin raised his head, 
 bowed, and resumed his attention to the atlas. I then retired, and seated 
 them at the further side of the room. They spoke to me in whispers : 
 
 What a venerable figure, exclaims one. 
 
 Why don t he speak ? says another. 
 
 He is doubtless in a reverie, I remarked, and has forgotten the pres 
 ence of his company ; his great age must be his apology. Gret your letters, 
 and go up again with me to him. 
 
 When near the table, I said, Mr. B., sir, from Boston. The head 
 raised up. 
 
 A letter, says B., from Doctor Cooper. 
 
 I-could go no further. The scene was too ludicrous. As B. held out 
 the letter, I struck the figure smartlj , exclaiming : 
 
 Why don t you receive the letter like a gentleman ? 
 
 They were all petrified with astonishment, but B. never forgave me the 
 ioke." 
 
 ADVENTURES OF WATSON. 
 
 In the preceding sketch, we have made an extract from the journal of 
 Elkanah Watson, which work is entitled " Men and Times of the Ameri 
 can Revolution," and is full of interesting incidents of adventure, both in 
 Europe and America. A relation of a few of those within his experience 
 while abroad, come well within our scope. Watson was a native of Ply 
 mouth, Massachusetts, and, in the latter part of our revolution, when ho 
 was twenty-one years of age, went to Europe, where he was for several 
 years engaged in mercantile operations. During this period, he was on 
 intimate terms vith Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and other, of the 
 most eminent of his countrymen. 
 
 Watson sailed for France w 1779, in a small, swift-moving packet, co 
 
OF AMERICANS. 629 
 
 structed for the purpose of transmitting dispatches, and in twenty-nine 
 days arrived at St. Martin, the port of Rochelle. Everything was new and 
 strange to him the clattering of wooden shoes along the pavement; the 
 young ladies astride of mules ; the appeals of beggars at every corner, and 
 the novelty of the language and customs. His party were alike objects of 
 curiosity. They were followed around the town by the boys, gazed at by 
 the crowd, while the words, " there go the brave Bostonians," continually 
 reached their ears. As the war commenced iif Boston, the term Bostonians 
 was popularly given in France to the whigs of the Revolution. 
 
 From Rochelle, Mr. Watson proceeded to Paris, and there called upon 
 Dr. Franklin, with his dispatches. It gave him exquisite pleasure to meet 
 this great man, whose name had been so familiar to him from his cradle. 
 " The ensuing day," says Watson, " I returned to Passy, to dine by invita 
 tion, with Dr. Franklin. At the hour of dinner, he conducted me across a 
 spacious garden of several acres, to the princely residence of M. Le Ray de 
 Chaumont. This was the first occasion of my dining in a private circle in 
 Europe, and being still in my American style of dress, and ignorant of the 
 French language, and prepared for extreme ceremony, I felt exceedingly 
 embarrassed. 
 
 We entered a spacious room, I following the doctor, where several well- 
 dressed persons (to my unsophisticated eyes, gentlemen) bowed to us. pro 
 foundly. These were servants. A folding door opened at our approach, 
 and presented- to my view a brilliant assembly, who all greeted the wise 
 old man in the most cordial and affectionate manner. He introduced me 
 as a young American just arrived. One of the young ladies approached 
 him with the familiarity of a daughter, tapped him kindly on the cheek, 
 and called him Pa-pa Franklin. 
 
 I was enraptured with the ease and freedom exhibited in the table in- 
 tsrcourse in France. Instead of the cold ceremony and formal compli 
 ments, to which I had been accustomed on such occasions, here ail ap 
 peared at ease, and well sustained. Some were amusing themselves with 
 music, others in singing ; some were waltzing, and others gathered in little 
 groups in conversation. At the table, the ladies and gentlemen were min 
 gled together, and joined in cheerful conversation, each selecting the deli 
 cacies of various courses, and drinking of delicious light wines, but with 
 neither toasts nor healths. 
 
 The lady of the house, instead of bearing the burden and inconvenience 
 of superintending the duties of the table, here participates alike with others 
 in its enjoyment. No gentlemen, I was told, would be tolerated in France, 
 in monopolizing the conversation of the table, in discussions of politics or 
 religion, as is frequently the case in America. A cup of coffee ordinarily 
 terminates the dinner." 
 
 On visiting the paintings in the Louvre, he was great/y pleased to find 
 the portrait of Franklin honored, and, by the royal orders in being, hung 
 near those of the king and queen. His popularity and influence at court 
 were almost unprecedented, and he was so much venerated by the people, 
 that Watson often saw the people following his carriage just as they had 
 the king s. " His venerable figure, the ease of his manners, formed in an 
 intercourse of fifty years with the world, his benevolent countenance, aud 
 
630 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 his fame as a philosopher, all tended to excite love and to command influ 
 ence and respect." He was an especial favorite of the queen, and through 
 the strong political influence she held, adroitly directed by him, the gov 
 ernment was led to acknowledge our independence, and to aid us in tho 
 struggle with fleets and armies. 
 
 The winter of 1780- 81, Watson spent in Rennes, and being the first of 
 his countrymen ever seen there, the public curiosity in regard to him was 
 very great, for most people h^d an idea that an American must be an Indi 
 an. The French, at that time, were very ignorant about our country and 
 people. The first night Watson arrived at Ancinis, he retired without 
 having first seen the professors. The students, learning that an American 
 had arrived, entered his room in the iBorning, and thinking he was asleep 
 carefully turned aside the curtain of his bed, with the expectation of see 
 ing an Indian ! Watson s object in passing a winter at Rennes, was to per 
 fect himself in French, the language being spoken there with remarkable 
 purity, and also to rub off a little of his American rust, by contact with the 
 elegant society of that gay city. In the spring he returned to Nantes, 
 where he had established a mercantile house. At that time the notorious 
 Tom Paine arrived at that place, and boarded at the same house with Wat 
 son. He came in the capacity of secretary to Colonel Laurens, Minister 
 Extraordinary from Congress. His manners and person were coarse, un 
 couth and loathsome. He was eternally either talking of himself or read 
 ing his own compositions. " Yet," says Watson, " I could not repress the 
 deepest emotions of gratitude toward him, as the instrument of Providence 
 in accelerating the Declaration of our Independence. He certainly was a 
 prominent agent in preparing the public sentiment of America for that glo 
 rious event. The idea of Independence had not occupied the popular 
 mind, and when guardedly approached on the subject, it shrunk from the 
 conception, as fraught with doubt, with peril, and with suffering. 
 
 In 1776, I was present, at Providence, Rhode Island, in a social assembly 
 of the most prominent leaders of the State. I recollect that the subject of 
 Independence was cautiously introduced by an ardent whig, and the thought 
 seemed to excite the abhorrence of the whole circle. 
 
 A few weeks later, Paine s Common Sense appeared, and passed through 
 the continent like at electric spark. It everywhere flashed conviction, and 
 aroused a determined spirit, which resulted in the Declaration of Indepen 
 dence, upon the 4th of July en>suing. The name of Paine was precious to 
 every whig heart, and had resounded throughout Europe. 
 
 On his arrival being announced, the mayor and some of the most dis 
 tinguished citizens of Nantes, called upon him to Tender their homage of 
 respect. 1 often officiated as interpreter, although humbled and mortified 
 at his filthy appearance and awkward and unseemly address. Besides, as 
 he had been roasted alive on his arrival at L Orient, for the * * * * 
 and well basted with brimstone, he was absolutely offensive, and perfumed 
 the whole apartment. He was soon rid of his respectable visitors, who left 
 the room with marks of astonishment and disgust. I took the liberty, on 
 his asking for tho loan of a clean shirt, of speaking to him frankly of ais 
 dirty appearance and brimstone odor, and prevailed upon him to stew for 
 an hour, in a hot bath. This, however, was not done without much 
 
OF AMERICANS. 631 
 
 entreaty, and I did not succeed until, receiving a file of English newspa 
 pers, I promised, after he was in the bath, he should have the reading of 
 them, and not before. He at once consented, and accompanied me to the 
 bath, where I instructed the keeper in French (which Paine did not under 
 stand) to gradually increase the heat of the water, until Me Monsieur etait 
 bien bouilli. He became so much absorbed in his reading that he was 
 nearly par-boiled before leaving the bath, much to his improvement and my 
 satisfaction. * 
 
 One of the most critical and remarkable events of my life occurred at 
 this period. The Marshal de Castries, the Minister of Marine, was passing 
 through Nantes, on his way to Brest, for the purpose of dispatching the 
 Count de Grasse with the fleet, which subsequently acted with so much 
 efficiency against Cornwallis. 
 
 Half the population of the city, prompted by their curiosity, poured in a 
 torrent beyond the gates, to meet the marshal and his retinue. I threw 
 myself into this living current. As soon as the avant courier appeared 
 in the distance, the immense crowd paraded on either side of the road. At 
 the moment the minister and his retinue approached, a little bell tinkled on 
 the opposite side, in directing the passage of the Bon Dieu, inclosed in a 
 silver vase, and held by a Catholic priest, on his way to administer the Sa 
 crament to a dying believer. The bell was held by a small boy, who pre 
 ceded the sacred procession ; four men supported a canopy over the priest s 
 head, and forty or fifty stupid peasants, in wooden shoes, followed. Cus 
 tom obliged all to kneel, as this venerated Bon Dieu * passed by ; but on 
 this occasion, most of the spectators, owing to the deep mud, leaned on 
 their canes, with hats in their hands, in a respectful posture. The couriers 
 checked their horses the carriages stopped, and all were thrown into con 
 fusion by the unfortunate presence of the Bon Dieu. At this moment 
 the priest, as if impelled by the spirit of malice, halted the procession, and 
 stopped the host directly in front of the place where I stood, and to my 
 utter amazement, pointing directly at me with his finger, exclaimed, aux 
 genoux to your knees. I pointed in vain to the mud, and the position 
 of those about me similar to my own. He again repeated, in a voice of 
 thunder, aux genoux. My Yankee blood flamed at this wanton attack, 
 I forgot myself, and, with a loud voice, replied in French, no, sir, I will 
 not. The populace, thunderstruck to see their Bon Dieu thus insulted, 
 fired with enthusiasm, broke their ranks, and were pressing toward me, 
 with violent imprecations. A German gentleman, an acquaintance, and 
 then at my side, exclaimed, for God s sake, drop in an instant. Alarmed 
 at my critical situation, I reluctantly settled my knees into a mud-hole. 
 Every one within my hearing who were respectable, Catholics and Protes 
 tants, condemned the rash and inexcusable conduct of the priest. 
 
 My keenest sensibilities were outraged, and I vowed vengeance upon the 
 audacious priest. The next afternoon, I set off, armed with a good hickory, 
 to trace out his residence, and to effect my determination. I proceeded to 
 the spot where the offense had been committed, entered the hut of a pea 
 sant, and inquired the name of the priest who, the day before, had passed 
 with the Bon Dieu. He replied, Ma foi, oui, ce Monsieur Barage yes, 
 faith, it is M. Barage. He pointed to the steeple of the church where he 
 
632 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 officiated, near the suburbs of the city. I soon found his house, and pulled 
 a bell -rope. A good-looking, middle-aged woman, the housekeeper, soon 
 appeared. Contrary to her interdiction, I sprung into the court-yard, and 
 proceeded directly to the house, and made my way to his library. The 
 priest soon appeared, demanded my business, exclaiming that I was a mur 
 derer or robber, and ordered me to quit his house. I sprung to the door, 
 locked it, and placing the key in my pocket, approached him in a hostilo 
 attitude. I compelled him to admit that he recognized my features. I 
 then poured forth my detestation of him, and of the tyranny of the French 
 clergy. I told him I was a native of North America, the ally of France ; 
 that I was under the protection of Dr. Franklin, and would not leave him 
 until I had received adequate remuneration for the unprovoked insult I had 
 received. In a word, I insisted on his apologizing to rne, in the same pos 
 ture in which I had been placed. In taking my leave, I assured him I 
 should proceed with the American consul, and enter my formal complaint 
 against him to the bishop. This threat alarmed him, and he fervently 
 urged my forbearance. I went, however, immediately to our consul, Col. 
 Williams, and communicated to him these incidents. He apprised me o 
 the extreme danger I should be subjected to from the hostility of the 
 priests, and admonished me, as the safest course, to prosecute the affair no 
 further. By his advice, and that of Tom Paine, I changed my lodgings, 
 and for two or three weeks avoided the streets. No further unpleasant 
 consequence resulted from this occurrence." 
 
 While at Nantes, Watson became acquainted with an American, one of 
 those intrepid adventurers of which our country has been so prolific. His 
 history, if it could be fully given, would be a volume of rare attractiveness. 
 This personage was Louis Littlepage, a native of Hanover County, Va. He 
 went to Europe in 1780, under the patronage of Mr. Jay, our Minister at 
 the Court of Spain. He was at the time a mere youth, but made every 
 where a strong impression, from his extraordinary genius and acquirements, 
 and from his noble, commanding figure, set off by dark sparkling eyes and 
 a striking physiognomy. He eventually left the service of Mr. Jay, and 
 acted as volunteer aid to the Duke de Ciellon at the siege of Minorca. He 
 was blown up with a floating battery at the attack on Gibraltar, but was 
 saved. Throughout the siege he was conspicuous. Later, he was on the 
 flag-ship of the Spanish admiral, and, in the midst of a hotly-contested 
 battle, deliberately sketched the positions of the vessels of the respective 
 fleets. This sketch, which was a masterly view of the action, he subse 
 quently showed to the Spanish Minister, and he was greeted with great 
 honor at the Spanish Court. He eventually found his way to Poland, and 
 became in effect prime minister to the king. On being sent as the Polish 
 ambassador to St. Petersburg, he evinced signal ability, and won the friend 
 ship of the Empress Catharine. When Poland fell, he returned to his na 
 tive land, and died in Fredericksburg, Va. A severe controversy arose be 
 tween him and Mr. Jay, in consequence of his refusing to refund money 
 loaned him by that eminent patriot, and he attacked Mr. Jay in a pamphlet 
 that evinced alike the genius and the bitterness of a Junius. 
 
 In the fall of 1781, Watson made the tour of Northern France and the 
 Netherlands. On his return, he dined and passed an eveuin^ with Frauklin 
 
OF AMERICANS. 633 
 
 in Paris. His long and familiar intercourse with tne most refined people 
 in his own country arid in Europe, had given him an ease of manner that 
 was heightened by a natural grace. His venerable locks, hanging in masses 
 over his shoulders, and his dignified presence, while it excited reverence, 
 were united to such kindly fascinating manners, as to make all within his 
 circle feel at home. He asked Watson if he was aware that he was a mu 
 sician, and then conducted him to the opposite side of the apartment to 
 show him the harmonica, a musical instrument he had invented, composed 
 of round glasses arranged in such a manner as when played upon to givo 
 forth sounds of remarkable sweetness. He performed some Scotch airs for 
 the amusement of his guest, with considerable skill. 
 
 Among the topics of the conversation of the evening, was the great and 
 absorbing subject of the union of the French and American forces against 
 Cornwallis. From their latest information, matters appeared in a very crit 
 ical condition, and it was found that the British fleet might succeed in 
 landing an army in Virginia, and defeat and ruin the plans of Washington. 
 Even Franklin s philosophy and self-possession seemed sorely tried as alter 
 nations of hope and fear successively affected his mind ; yet he was con 
 vinced that the genius of Washington would triumph over all obstacles. 
 Watson left deeply depressed by fears of the result to his suffering country. 
 A messenger from Franklin the next morning aroused him by a thundering 
 rap at his door. He handed him a circular, which filled him with unspeak 
 able thankfulness, for it contained the glorious tidings of the surrender of 
 Cornwallis. In company with many French and American gentlemen, he 
 called upon Franklin, to congratulate him upon this great event. He found 
 him in an ecstasy of joy : "There is," observed Franklin, "no parallel in 
 history cf two entire armies being captured from the same enemy in any 
 one wur." The whole population of Paris was wild with delight. And 
 not only Paris, but all the cities of France were illuminated by their re 
 joicing citizens. 
 
 Mr. Watson s mercantile enterprise was for a time highly prosperous, and 
 his purse was freely opened to the aid of friends at home, and to the relief 
 of his countrymen imprisoned in England, several of whom, through him, 
 effected their escape. 
 
 As negotiations were now in progress in Paris for terminating the war, 
 Watson determined, if possible, to visit England, the land of his forefathers. 
 Packets having been started between Dover and Calais, to facilitate nego 
 tiations, he thought he would be enabled to cross by their means. Doctor 
 Franklin suggested, in the most friendly manner, that it would be attended 
 ivith danger for him, a known rebel, to visit an enemy s country. He how 
 ever gave in to Watson s persuasions, prepared a passport for him, and let 
 ters to several distinguished political and scientific characters. 
 
 Landing on British soil, Watson felt under some apprehension ; yet he 
 could not but exult at the thought of how finely his countrymen had 
 avenged themselves for their wrongs, by many glorious victories, and by 
 crippling England s commerce even to her very shores. 
 
 The first person he called upon, in London, was the Duke of Manches 
 ter, whose elegant person and dignified manners marked the high-bred 
 nobleman. "From his lips, Watson first learned that the British government 
 
634: ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 had concluded to acknowledge the independence of the Colonies. A letter 
 from Franklin introduced Watson to the celebrated philosopher and divine, 
 Dr. Price. This gentleman \vas a zealous advocate of civil liberty. He 
 was highly esteemed in the United States for his very able writings in be 
 half of the American cause. These were published early in the war, and 
 had a wonderful influence in England. A friend, in presence of Watson, 
 delicately complimented him on his great reputation as a man, of learning, 
 and on the immense benefit he had been to our country by his publications. 
 His reply showed the wise man: "However I maybe esteemed among 
 men, I have lived long enough to learn that I know nothing." 
 
 Watson concluded to remain in England until December, at which time 
 the king was to acknowledge the independence of the United States on the 
 opening of parliament. In the meantime he occupied himself in traveling 
 through some of the most interesting parts of the country. When in Bir 
 mingham, he was amused at this sentence in the prayer of the clergyman : 
 "0 Lord! turn the hearts of our rebellious subjects in America." He 
 says, however, that during his progress through England, he was astonished 
 at finding that the people in some localities appeared generally to sympa 
 thize with the Americans in their struggle for liberty, and advocated their 
 cause with most cogent and strenuous arguments. He spent one evening* 
 with a party of English gentlemen, and so strong was the interest mani 
 fested, that it made him feel as if he were back among his rebel friends in 
 America. In other localities, on the other hand, the people were invete- 
 rately hostile. 
 
 On one occasion, passing by an English farm-house, he was induced to 
 enter by the lively sounds of a violin. He found a collection of country 
 folks, lads and lassies, in the midst of a dancing frolic. Aside from their 
 dialect, it almost seemed to him as if he were among his own country peo 
 ple, yet he says that one Yankee had more mother- wit than half of them 
 combined. The common people showed great ignorance in regard to Amer 
 ica and Americans. Many of them thought we were a nation of Indians, 
 negroes, and mixed blood. He overheard this conversation while in a 
 stage-coach near London, between two genteelly-dressed ladies. One said 
 to the other : " I have seen a wonderful sight a little girl born in a place 
 called Boston, in North America, and what is very astonishing, but I pledge 
 you rny word it is true, she speaks English as well as any child in England, 
 and beside she is perfectly ivhite." " Is it possible !" exclaimed the other, 
 in tones of genuine surprise. 
 
 Watson had returned to London on the eventful 5th of December, 1782, 
 the day on which the king was to announce to parliament the independence 
 of America. Early in the morning the Earl of Ferrers led him into the 
 House of Lords, and at the entrance whispered to him " Get as near the 
 throne as you can fear nothing." He elbowed his way in until he was 
 exactly in front of it. The lords were standing around in groups, among 
 whom, and close by him, was the celebrated Admiral Lord Howe. The 
 distinguished American painters, Copley and West, were there, accompa 
 nied by some American ladies. A few dejected American tories, too, were 
 to be seen in the crowd. The day was foggy and lowering, and this, with 
 the dark tapestry of the walls, gave a gloomy air to all within. After 3 
 
OF AMERICANS. 635 
 
 delay of two hours, loud discharges of artillery told them the king was 
 approaching. Attired in royal robes, and with all the insignia of mon 
 archy, he came in a small side door, and gracefully placed himself in the 
 chair of state. The House of Commons having been notified, soon en 
 tered. When all was still, the king, much agitated, took his speech, writ 
 ten on a scroll, from his pocket, and commenced reading it. Being only a 
 few yards distant, Watson watched with interest every tone of his voice 
 and every emotion of his countenance. As the king proceeded, Watson 
 felt every nerve quiver and thrill with lofty patriotic emotion. Having ut 
 tered a few introductory sentences, he went on to say : 
 
 "I left no time in giving the necessary orders to prohibit the further pro 
 secution of offensive war upon the continent of North America. Adopt 
 ing, as my inclination will always lead me to do, with decision and effect, 
 whatever I collect to be the sense of my parliament and my people, I have 
 pointed all my views and measures, in Europe, as in North America, to an 
 entire and cordial reconciliation with the colonies. Finding it indispensa 
 ble to the attainment of this object, I did not hesitate to go to the full 
 length of the powers vested in me, and offer to declare them " Here he 
 paused, and was in evident agitation ; either embarrassed in reading his 
 speech, by the darkness of the room, or affected by a very NATURAL EMO 
 TION. In a moment he resumed : " And offer to declare them FREE AND 
 INDEPENDENT STATES. In thus admitting their separation from the crown 
 of these kingdoms, I have sacrificed every consideration of my own to the 
 wishes and opinions of my people. I make it my humble and ardent 
 prayer to Almighty God, that Great Britain may not feel the evils which 
 might result from so great a dismemberment of the empire, and that Amer 
 ica may be free from the calamities which have formerly proved, in the 
 mother country, how essential monarchy is to the enjoyment of constitu 
 tional liberty. Religion, language, interests, and affection may, and I hope 
 will, yet prove a bond of permanent union between the two countries." 
 
 " It is remarked, that George III is celebrated for reading his speeches 
 in a distinct, free, and impressive manner. On this occasion be was evi 
 dently embarrassed ; he hesitated, choked, and executed the painful duties 
 required of him, with an ill grace that did not belong to him. I caanot 
 adequately portray my sensations, in the progress of this address ; every 
 artery beat high, and swelled with my PROUD AMERICAN BLOOD. In leav 
 ing the house, I jostled Copley and West, who, I thought, were enjoying 
 the rich political repast of the day, and noticing the anguish and despair 
 depicted on the long visages of our American tories." 
 
 A few days before Copley had painted a splendid portrait of Watson. 
 In the background was a view of a ship conveying to America the glad 
 tidings of the recognition of her independence, with the star-spangled 
 banner, illuminated by the light of a rising sun, streaming proudly from 
 aloft. It was all finished excepting the flag. As his gallery was continu 
 ally visited, by the royal family and the nobility, the artist deferred painting 
 it until a more proper season. After listing to the king s speech, Watson 
 accompanied Copley to his house to dine. Soon as they had entered, he 
 took him into his studio, "and then," says Watson, "with a bold hand, a 
 master s touch, and I believe an American heart, he attached to the ship tha 
 
636 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 stars and stripes. This I believe was the first American flag ever hoistod in 
 old England." 
 
 On his return to France, Watson showed Franklin an English paper with 
 a full account of his death and burial. The Doctor was exceedingly amused 
 and told Watson that it was the third time that he had been buried alive by 
 the London newspapers. Watson saw Franklin for the last time, in 1786. Ho 
 was then eighty years of age. "On my first entering the room," Mr. Watson 
 says, "he observed that all his old friends were dead, and he found himself 
 alone, in the midst of a new generation, and added the remark, alike char 
 acteristic of the man and the philosopher, he was in their way, and it was 
 time he was off the stage. Yet he delighted a circle of young people (for 
 he was a most instructive companion to youth in his old age), the whole 
 evening, with pleasant anecdote and interesting stories. His voice was very 
 sonorous and clear, but at the same time hollow and peculiar. 1 
 
 In August 1784, Watson embarked in the ship George Washington on his 
 return to America, having been absent five years. The master, Captain 
 Smith, Watson had known in his boyhood. He was an intelligent, sensible 
 man, yet from an anecdote Watson relates it seems not devoid of that sin 
 gular superstition so common to seamen. 
 
 He noticed that the cook was accustomed to carry the egg shells to deck, 
 and scrupulously break them into little bitn beiore he cast them overboard. 
 Watson made up his mind to ascertain the meaning of this singular super 
 stition, so one time watching his opportunity, he caught up the bowl with 
 the shells, and emptied them into the sea unbroken. Tli3 cook started 
 after and brought along the captain who in a towering passion, fell to abusing 
 Watson for his temerity. He swore that he had been to sea forty years, and 
 never had known egg shells thrown whole into the sea, but that old bitch, 
 Mother Carey, got into them and raised a gale of wind. To reason with him 
 Watson knew was idle, and to ridicule such folly dangerous. A night or so 
 after, he was summoned to the deck by unusual voices and the pitching of 
 the vessel, where he found a tremendous hurricane coming on ; vivid flashes 
 of lightning shot across the sky ; the ocean began to swell in angry waves 
 arid the wind to whistle through the rigging with wild, appalling sounds. 
 The captain, as he caught a glimpse of him, exclaimed, "There ! did nt I 
 tell you so !" Thanks to a tight ship and a skillful commander, the ship 
 rode out the gale, though the event doubtless tended to confirm the opin 
 ion of the skipper and his crew in the peril of throwing overboard unbroken 
 egg shells. 
 
 On the 3d of October, the cry of "Land " rang through the ship, and in 
 a few hours she was plowing among the beautiful islands of Narraganset 
 Bay. Viewing the landscape with a comparatively foreign eye, the sky was 
 to him more clear and blue, the stars more bright and numerous, the fields 
 of corn more broad and the forests more expanded, than in the Old World 
 he had left behind. At ten o clock at night, Watson was put ashore and 
 entered the spacious yard of a respectable farm-house. As lie knocked at 
 the door, the old, familiar invitation, " Walk in," pleasantly greeted h is 
 his ear. A momentary flash, as he obeyed the invitation, revealed the 
 figure of an old man with distended cheeks, blowing up a liglit with a coal. 
 The flame lit the candle, then, turning to look at his guest, he exclaimed* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 637 
 
 " Sit down, sit down, my friend where from ?" 
 
 " London," was the reply ; " and I wish a horse to proceod to Prov 
 idence." 
 
 "It is too late," he responded; "to-night you are welcome to a bed 
 with us." 
 
 Watson accepted this kind offer, and joined the hospitable farmer in a 
 pipe by his fireside. The latter, in the meantime, poured forth a continual 
 stream of questions, in which his good wife, who had retired to a bed in 
 the corner, soon united. The old lady regretted, as hospitable old ladies 
 are ever apt to on such occasions, that she could not get him a warm sup 
 per ; but baked apples, cool milk, rye and Indian bread were furnished in 
 ample quantities, and their delicious taste reminded him of old times. Ho 
 retired for the night in the best room, a spacious apartment with everything 
 " neat as wax." As his form pressed upon a most comfortable bed, he 
 could but mentally ejaculate, "These are the blessings of an independent 
 American farmer !" 
 
 In the gray of the morning, the whole of the family were up and stir 
 ring around discharging their respective duties. Watson arose, also, and 
 threw aside the paper curtains. The sight of a beautiful, well-cultivated 
 farm, a barn-yard with noble cows, which the boys and women were busy 
 milking, excited most pleasurable feelings. Soon entering the yard, Wat 
 son grasped his generous host by the hand, and began to tell him how 
 much he was gratified by his surroundings. 
 
 "0 yes; I have a fine farm, well stocked, and owe nothing but these 
 horrible taxes are devouring a poor farmer." 
 
 " Pray, sir," inquired Watson, " how much taxes do you pay in a year ?" 
 
 " About thirty dollars ; and before the war they did not exceed three 
 dollars." 
 
 "Is it possible so small a burden can give so much uneasiness. You are 
 now, for thirty dollars annually, in the enjoyment of the blessings of.liberty 
 and independence. You know not how to prize the great privilege. Can 
 you so soon have forgotten the common language during the Revolution, I 
 will sacrifice half my property to secure the rest. I wish, it had been pos 
 sible for every farmer in the nation to have passed over the ground I have 
 traversed the last five years in Europe, and witnessed the suffering and op 
 pression I have seen among the farmers there, governed at the point of the 
 bayonet, and even in England, overwhelmed by taxes, tithes, and rents. 
 They would kiss the soil of America, and call it blessed, and raise their 
 hearts in pious gratitude to the Giver of all good." 
 
 This lesson did the farmer much good, and eased his mind. Watson 
 wished he could have uttered it in the presence of everv discontented citi 
 zen of the republic. The same cry is heard too often in our day, from 
 multitudes who possess everything to make them happy ; but who, instead, 
 appear to study how the most effectually to make themselves miserable. 
 
 We have somewhat departed from our text in presenting these few inci 
 dents of Watson in his home land. We will take another and a last step 
 in the same direction, by giving his account of a visit he made to Mt. Ver- 
 non, the home of Washington. 
 
 "I had feasted my imagination for several days on the near prospect of a 
 
638 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 visit Mt. Vcrnon, the seat of Washington. No pilgrim ever approached 
 Mecca with a deeper enthusiasm. I arrived there in the afternoon of 
 January 23, 1785. I was the bearer of a letter from Gen. Green, with 
 another from Col. Fitzgerald, one of the former aids of Washington, and 
 also bosks from Granville Sharp. Although assured that these credentials 
 would secure me a respectful reception, I trembled with awe as I came into 
 the presence of this great man. I found him at the table with Mrs. Wash 
 ington and his private family, and was received in the native dignity and 
 with that urbanity so peculiarly combined in the character of a soFdier and 
 eminent private gentleman. He soon put rne at ease, by unbending in a 
 free and affable conversation. 
 
 The cautious reserve, which wisdom and policy dictated, while engaged 
 in rearing the glorious fabric of our independence, was evidently the result 
 of consummate prudence, and not characteristic of his nature. Although I 
 had frequently seen him in the progress of the Revolution, and had corres 
 ponded with him from France in 1781- 82, this was the first occasion on 
 which I had contemplated him in his private relations. I observed a pecu 
 liarity in his smile, which seemed to illuminate his eye ; his whole coun 
 tenance beamed with intelligence, while it commanded confidence and re 
 spect. The gentleman who had accompanied me from Alexandria, left in 
 the evening, and I remained alone in t.he enjoyment of the society of Wash 
 ington, for two of the richest days of rny life. I saw him reaping the re 
 ward of his beloved retirement. He was at the matured age of fifty-three. 
 Alexander arid Caesar both died before they reached that period of life, and 
 both had immortalized their names. How much stronger and nobler the 
 churns of Washington to immortality! In the impulses of mad and selfish 
 ambition, they acquired fame by wading to the conquest of the world through 
 eeas of blood. Washington, on the contrary, was parsimonious of the blood 
 of his countrymen, and stood forth, the pure and virtuous champion of their 
 rights, and formed for them (not himself) a mighty empire. 
 
 To have communed with such a man in the bosom of his family, I shall 
 always regard as one of the highest privileges, and one of the most cher 
 ished incidents of my life. I found him kind and benignant in the do 
 mestic circle, revered and beloved by all around him ; agreeably social, 
 without ostentation ; delighting in anecdote and adventure, without assump 
 tion ; his domestic arrangements harmonious and systematic. His servants 
 seemed to watch his eye, and to anticipate his every wish ; hence a look 
 was equivalent to a command. His servant, Billy, the faithful companion 
 of his military career, was always at his side. Smiling content beamed on 
 every countenance in his presence. 
 
 He modestly waived all allusions to the events in which he had acted so 
 glorious :ind conspicuous a part. Much of his conversation had reference 
 to tho opening of the navigation of the Potomac, by canals and locks, at 
 the Seneca, the Great and Little Falls. His mind appeared to be deeply 
 absorbed by that object, then in earnest contemplation. 
 
 The first evening I spent under the wing of his hospitality, we set a full 
 hour at Uble by ourselves, without the least interruption, after the family 
 had retired. I was extremely oppressed by a severe cold and excessive 
 coughing, contracted by the exposure of a harsh winter journey, lit 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 pressed me to use soiuo remedies, but I declined doing so. As usual, after 
 retiring, ray coughing increased. When some time had elapsed, the door 
 of my room was gently opened, and, on drawing m . v li-frtph^ ! beheld 
 Washington himself standing at my bedside, with a bowl of hot tea in his 
 hand. I was mortified and distressed beyond expression. This little in 
 cident, occurring in common life with an ordinary man, would not have 
 Ve:i noticed ; but us :i :r.\:t ot" the btMVOliMM a .-.d private virtue of Wash 
 ington, deserves to be recorded." 
 
 AMERICANS IN RUSSIA. 
 
 Amv-r.e.ir.s are rather favorites in Ku^ia, and e;ir pftOplf ByttpttthiM with 
 the progressive spirit that marks the present history ot" the Etuttitttt, fof 
 nothing gives Jonathan greater pleasure than to see folks u go ahead." The 
 Emperor Nicholas once said, to an American minister at his court, "Amer 
 ica and Russia are the only two genuine governments among civilized na 
 tions yours is a genuine republic, and mine a genuine monarchy , the rest 
 are mongrels." Both governments appear to be progressing in the right di 
 rection. We havt got out of leading strings and manage for ourselves; 
 while, m Russia, tho emperor holding all power, with a true paternal care, 
 seems to be trying t>> bring the people up to a point \\here they MUD UW- 
 wise in time go alone. 
 
 Some twelve years since, when the Emperor Nicholas was at the height 
 of his power, Mr. J. S. Maxwell, of New York, visited Russia, and in hia 
 published travels gives an amusing account of our enterprising countrymen 
 in that distant land. He had been out to visit the Imperial Farming Insti 
 tution, which is in the vicinity of St. Petersburg, and, after haying visited 
 it, thus continues : 
 
 "Ono of themes! amusing ir.eidents aHer.d .ng ourvi>;t to this institu 
 tion, was to find there an American, who had but lately arrived in the 
 country, lie spoke nothing but Knglish, and could hold no communiration 
 whatever with those around him, except through the medium of signs and 
 gestures. .He was a tall thin man, with a thoughtful countenance. Ho 
 had brought with him a number of improved instruments of agriculture, 
 such as never were seen before in Russia, lie displayed in a practical light 
 the advantages of these Yankee contrivances, lie found the pupils of the 
 farming institution reaping wheat with the old-fashioned sickle, mowing 
 with a short scythe attached to a ten-foot pole, and plowing in every way 
 but tho right one. Ho perfectly astonished the natives with his long 
 straight furrows, his clean-cut sward, and his gigantic strides with the mys 
 terious cradle. One blustering day, he saw the scholars cleaning grain, by 
 throwing it up in the wind, which carried off the dust and chaff, while thu 
 grain foil to the ground. Our countryman did not like this antiquated pro 
 cess, and constructed a winnowing mill, out of such materials, and with 
 such tools as happened to bo at hand. It worked beautifully, and the 
 maker was regarded by the young barbarians with tho most profound ro 
 ut oet. Tins very useful and estimable person afterward had an interview 
 with tho minister of the interior, who presides over this institution, and it 
 was rumored that h was about to be elevated to a professorship in the col- 
 lego of husbandry, lie did not, however, long remain in the country, and 
 
640 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 was rewarded for his services by being elected an honorary member of the 
 Imperial Society for the Improvement of Agriculture. 
 
 The foundry of Alexandroffsky, near the gates of St. Petersburg, is now 
 in the possession and under the control of American mechanics, in the em 
 ploy of the government. Some account of the settlement and success of 
 the Americans at Alexandroffsky may be interesting. Some time in 1810, 
 the Emperor Nicholas assembled his councillors, and requested their opin 
 ions as to the feasibility of a railway from St. Petersburg to Moscow. It 
 was opposed by all, except Count Kleiumichel, the minister of ways and 
 communications. The emperor, however, had determined to make the 
 road before he asked advice. He surmised that the council merely op 
 posed his views, that he might be gratified with the apparent illiberality ol 
 his ministers, and thus be pleased with the idea of his own merit and his 
 own power, as the sole benefactor of his country. 
 
 After due consideration, it was concluded that railroads, as they are con 
 structed in the United States, were the best adapted for the empire, and 
 George W. Whistler, an American gentleman of distinguished ability in his 
 profession, was invited to visit Russia, and superintend the making of the 
 proposed road. A better selection could not have been made. Thc> diffi 
 culties, which would have discouraged most men in such a country and 
 among such a people at the outset of such an undertaking, vanished before 
 his unequaled industry, knowledge and tact. Intrigue and envy fell before 
 his consistency and firmness, and the imperial favor and the public appro 
 bation have rewarded the merits and worth of a citizen whose conduct and 
 character are worthy the republic. After certain preliminaries had been 
 arranged, the contracts for the making of the locomotives, cars, wagons and 
 carts, were offered, and parties from England, France, Belgium, Holland 
 Germany, and the United States, sent in their proposals to the department 
 of ways and communications. Among these was one from a party of young 
 mechanics, Messrs. Harrison and Eastwick, of Philadelphia, and Mr. Win- 
 ants, of Baltimore. They had been informed by some of the Russian agents 
 in the United States, that it would be for their interest to visit St. Petersburg 
 and endeavor to get the contract. They had no capital to invest in any un 
 dertaking of this kind, nor could they boast of any influence at court. They 
 nevertheless repaired to the capital, and with little prospect of success in 
 the race with those of superior credit or pretension, they sent in their pro 
 posals. When it is known that these proposals were accepted, and that too, 
 when other parties had offered to contract at a much lower rate the con 
 fidence of the government in the skill and ability of the American mechanics, 
 is sufficiently apparent. It also shows that the government had a perfect 
 knowledge, through their foreign agents, of the capability and character of 
 the men they wished to employ. Money was a matter of no consequence, 
 influence at court was of no importance, and all those who had built their 
 hopes on these considerations, were thrown aside for others, who were 
 known at home to be late and early in the workshop, and to possess tho 
 necessary intelligence, energy, and perseverance. 
 
 As soon as it was reported that the Americans had the contract, a pro 
 longed growl was heard in the English quarter. That the Kamtschatka 
 cteam frigate should have been built in the United States ; that she should 
 
OF AMERICANS. 641 
 
 boat anything for speed or beauty in the north that she should be the fa 
 vorite sea-boat of the emperor, in spite of the rumors that told of her blow 
 ing up, or going down with all on board, was bad enough ; but that these 
 infernal Yankees should be insinuating themselves into the imperial favor, 
 in defiance of all precautions to the contrary, was almost beyond endurance. 
 
 The Americans had the contract, and from the moment this was known, 
 their credit was unlimited both in England and in Russia. Those who had 
 possession of the works at Alexandroffsky, were notified to leave forthwith, 
 and the Americans immediately moved in and occupied the vast buildings 
 and grounds, covering about one hundred and sixty acres, and belonging to 
 the factory. The dwellings occupied by the late superintendents and now 
 opened for the use of the new proprietors wera all that could be desired. 
 Saloons, bath-rooms, ceilings in fresco, gardens, summer-houses and duck 
 ponds, witnessed the taste and the comfort of the original possessors. The 
 foundry itself contained three hundred Russian workmen, and a quantity of 
 old machinery out of date and out of order. All these wanted renovating 
 and repairing. Orders were immediately dispatched to England and the 
 United States, for all the new and approved inventions. Fifteen or twenty 
 assistant workmen were brought from the latter country. But many of these 
 would not remain, for although they were better paid than they would be 
 elsewhere, they could not support the ennui attending a residence where 
 there were no public meetings, nor discussions, nor newspapers, nor elec 
 tions, nor lectures, not even a temperance excitement to alleviate the pains 
 of exile. 
 
 American newspapers are seldom seen in Russia. The Sun published 
 in New York, and sold for one cent the number, was delivered to a sub 
 scriber in St. Petersburg at one dollar and a half per copy. The rates of 
 postage are very high. Before the subscriber could stop the aforesaid jour 
 nal, a large amount of money had been expended. 
 
 As the Russians were incapable of doing many kinds of work, it became 
 necessary to resort to Sweden for assistance, and sixty intelligent mechanics 
 were brought from that country. The foundry was enlarged, all was soon 
 in movement, and three thousand artisans employed in the manufacture of 
 two hundred locomotives and seven thousand cars, in one of the best and 
 most complete establishments in the world. It was visited by the minister 
 and princes, and all were delighted with the experiment and the improve 
 ment. Other contracts for the making of engines and steamboats, amount 
 ing to many millions of money, were offered to the Americans. Whea 
 they commenced operations, they were desirious of introducing a system 
 of police, altogether different from that one prevailing at Alexandroffsky. 
 Their humane exertions were frustrated by the utter ignorance of the Rus 
 sian laborers of all notions of common honesty and morality. Some of 
 them were serfs of the crown, some of them serfs of the nobles, and some 
 free peasants. They would steal whatever they could conveniently conceal, 
 and carried off in their clothing, tools, bits of brass, copper, or whatever 
 elso would purchase a dram. It became absolutely necessary, therefore, to 
 adopt the old practice of having soldiers stationed at the entrances, and 
 every Russian who passed out was regularly searched. Every morning 
 some were so intoxicated as to be unable to work ; they were given in 
 
642 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 charge to a police officer, by whom they were stripped and flogged. The 
 emperor visited the works at Alexandroffsky, not long since, and expressed 
 his satisfaction to Messrs. Eastwick, Harrison and Winants, by presenting 
 each of them with a diamond ring. He also passed over the railway as 
 far as Colperno to which point it is finished, and returned to confer upon 
 the distinguished engineer the order of St. Anne, and to express his grati 
 fication in a ukase. In 1842, the most valuable import into Russia from 
 the United States, next after the artic~.es of cotton, was machinery. This 
 was mostly intended for the foundry of Alexandroffsky, and the furtherance 
 of the work upon the railroad. The steam earth-excavators and steam pile- 
 drivers were considered extraordinary productions, and so useful did thev 
 appear that directions wer given for their further importation and their 
 general use upon the various public works. It was about this time that an 
 American dentist arrived from Paris to inspect the imperial masticators, and 
 so successful were his operations that he was decorated with the ribbon of 
 St. Andrew. Soon after Nicholas sent- to America for bridge builders and 
 millwrights, as Peter sent to Holland for blacksmiths and carpenters. The 
 report of this exceeding partiality for the citizens of the republic soon at 
 tracted attention in the United States, and during the ensuing summer, 
 almost every steamer brought in some enterprising son of New England. 
 Patent fire-arms, contrivances for making pins, and specimens of almost 
 every new invention, were presented to the patronage of the autocrat. Let 
 ters were addressed to his imperial majesty from individuals residing in the 
 far west, requesting service in the army and navy, while his excellency the 
 American minister received parcels marked this side up with care, and 
 containing various articles which he was directed to deliver immediately to 
 the Emperor of all the Russias. There were daguerreotype views, and 
 there were models of bridges and floating docks, and plans and specifica 
 tions for building ships and steamboats. One person was ready to supply 
 any demand for excellent clocks ; another sent a set of mineral teeth as a 
 sample of his workmanship ; another sent his majesty a work on the treat 
 ment of diseases of the spine ; another sent to each of the imperial family 
 a barrel of Newtown pippins, and some member of the temperance scjioty, 
 an awful looking picture of the human stomach diseased by the use of 
 brandy. Never was there such a prospect of the tide of emigration run- 
 ning eastward, and if free trade had been the order of the day, if passport 
 and police system had not presented such barriers to circumfora neons 
 strangers, if the emperor had not published a ukase, stating that no presents 
 whatever, coming from unknown individuals, would be received in future 
 by the imperial family, the regeneration of the empire might have been 
 completed through the agency of speculating Yankees." 
 
 AMERICAN NATIONAL COURTESY. 
 
 One of the most pleasing acts of national courtesy on record was the res 
 toration by our government to England of one of the vessels which had 
 been sent out to the Arctic Ocean, in search of Sir John Franklin, and 
 where she became so hopelessly shut up in the ice as to compel her crew 
 to abandon her to save their own lives. She was found by one of our 
 
OF AMERICANS. 643 
 
 arid brought to America. The full circumstances we annex from 
 Sargent s Arctic Adventure. 
 
 "In the month of September, 1855, the whaler George Henry, Captain 
 Buddington, of New London, Connecticut, was drifting along, beset by the 
 ice, in Baffin s Bay, when one morning the captain, looking through his 
 glass, saw a large ship some fifteen or twenty miles distant, apparently 
 working her way toward him. Day after day, while helplessly imprisoned 
 in the pack, he watched her coming nearer. On the seventh day, the mate, 
 Mr. Quail, and three men were sent out to find out what she was. 
 
 After a hard day s journey over the ice jumping from piece to piece, 
 and pushing themselves along on isolated cakes they were near enough to 
 see that she was lying on her larboard side firmly imbedded in the ice. 
 They shouted lustily, as soon as they got within hailing distance ; but there 
 was no answer. Not a soul was to be seen. For one moment, as the men 
 came alongside, they faltered, with a superstitious feeling, and hesitated to 
 go on board. A moment after, they had climbed over the broken ice, and 
 stood on deck. Everything was stowed away in order spars hauled up 
 and lashed to one side, boats piled together, hatches calked down. Over 
 the helm, in letters of brass, was inscribed the motto, England expects 
 every man to do his duty. But there was no man on board to heed the 
 warning. 
 
 The whalemen broke open the companion-way, and descended into the 
 cabin. All was silence and darkness. Groping their way to the table, 
 they found matches and candles, and struck a light. There were decan 
 ters and glasses on the table, chairs and lounges standing around, books 
 scattered about everything just as it had been last used. Looking curi 
 ously from one thing to another, wondering what this ship might be, at last 
 they came upon the log-book. It was indorsed, Bark Resolute, 1st Sept., 
 1853, to April, 1854. One entry was as follows, H. M. S. Resolute, 17th 
 January, 1854, nine A. M. Mustered by divisions. People taking exercise 
 on deck. Five p. M. Mercury frozen. 
 
 This told the story. It was Captain Kellett s ship, the Resolute, which 
 nad broken away from her icy prison, and had thus fallen into the hands 
 of our Yankee whalemen. 
 
 While the men were making these discoveries, night came on, and a gale 
 arose. So hard did it blow that they were compelled to remain on board, 
 and for two days these four were the whole crew of the Resolute. It was 
 not till 19th of September that they returned to their own ship, and made 
 their report. 
 
 All these ten days, since Captain Buddington had first seen her, the ves 
 sels had been nearing each other. On the 19th he boarded her himself, and 
 found that in her hold, on the larboard side, was a good deal of ice. Her 
 tanks had burst, from the extreme cold ; and she was full of water, nearly 
 to her lower deck. Everything that could move from its place had moved. 
 Everything between decks was wet ; everything that would mould was 
 mouldy. A sort of perspiration had settled on the beams and ceilings. 
 The whalemen made a fire in Kellett s stove, and soon started a sort of 
 hower from the vapor with which it filled the air. The Resolute had, 
 however, four fine force Dumps. For three days the captain and< six- men 
 41 
 
644 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 worked fourteen hours a day on one of these, and had the pleasure of find 
 ing that they freed her of water that she was tight still. They cut away 
 upon the masses of ice : and on the 23d of September, in the evening, she 
 freed herself from her encumbrances, and took an even keel. This was oft 
 the shore of Baffin s Bay, in latitude 67. On the shortest tact, she was 
 twelve hundred miles from where Kellett left her. 
 
 There was work enough still to be done. The rudder was to be shipped, 
 the rigging to be made taut, sail to be set and it proved, by the way, that 
 the sail on the yards was much of it still serviceable, while a suit of new 
 linen sails below were greatly injured \>y moisture. In a week more, she 
 was ready to make sail. The pack of ice still drifted with both ships ; but 
 on the 21st of October, after a long north-west gale, the Resolute was free. 
 
 Captain Buddington had resolved to bring her home. He had picked 
 ten men from the George Henry, and with a rough tracing of the American 
 coast, drawn on a sheet of foolscap, with his lever watch and a quadrant 
 for his instruments, he squared off for New London. A rough, hard pas 
 sage they had of it. The ship s ballast was gone, by the bursting of the 
 tanks ; she was top-heavy and undermanned. He spoke to a British whal 
 ing bark, and by her sent to Captain Kellett his epaulets, and to his own 
 owners news that he was coming. They had heavy gales and head winds, 
 and were driven as far down as the Bermudas. The water left in the ship s 
 tanks was brackish, and it needed .all the seasoning which the ship s choco 
 late would give to make it drinkable. For sixty hours at a time, says the 
 captain, I frequently had no sleep; but his perseverance was crowned 
 with success, at last, and, on the night of the 23d of December, he made 
 the light off the harbor from which he sailed, and on Sunday morning, the 
 24th, dropped anchor in the Thames, opposite New London, and ran up 
 the British ensign on the shorn masts of the Resolute. 
 
 Her subsequent history is fresh in the minds of our readers. The British 
 government generously released all their claim in favor of the sailors. 
 Thereupon, Congress resolved that the vessel should be purchased and re 
 stored as a present to her majesty from the American people. This design 
 was fully carried out. The Resolute was taken to the dry-dock in Brook- 
 lin, and there put in complete order. Everything on board even to the 
 smallest article was replaced as nearly as possible in its original position ; 
 and, at length, having been manned and officered from the United States 
 navy, and placed under the command of Captain Hartstein, the Resolute, 
 stanch and sound again from stem to stern, with sails all set and streamers 
 all afloat, once more shaped her course for England. 
 
 On the 12th of December, 1856, after a boisterous passage, she anchored 
 at Spithead, with the United States and British ensigns flying at the peak. 
 Notwithstanding the furious gale which was then raging, says Captain 
 Hartstein, in his official report, we were immediately boarded by Captain 
 Peal, of her Britannic Majesty s frigate Shannon, who cordially offered to 
 us every civility and attention. In a few moments afterward, a steamer 
 arrived from Vice-Admiral Sir George Seymour (commanding officer of the 
 station), with a tender of services, and congratulations upon our safe arrival. , 
 Proceeding to Portsmouth next morning (which I did in a government 
 steamer provided me for that purpose), I visited the United States con- 
 
OF AMERICANS. 645 
 
 sulate, and was there waited upon by Sir Thomas Maitland, who had be 
 come commanding officer of the naval station in the absence of the admi 
 ral, Sir George Seymour, and received from him a most cordial welcome, 
 with proffers of every possible service, by express instruction from the ad 
 rniralty. Accommodations were prepared for us at the first hotel, and 
 orders for a bountiful supply of provisions to be sent on board the Reso 
 lute ; also a carte blanche for the railroad to London, for myself and the 
 officers of the Resolute. In fact, nothing could exceed the kindness and 
 courtesy with which we were treated by Sir Thomas Maitland, who seemed 
 upwilling that any means of adding to his hearty expressions of welcomo 
 should pass unexhausted. That morning s post brought me a communica 
 tion from Sir Charles Wood, first lord of the admiralt} 7 , whose expressions 
 of kindly feeling I beg may bo particularly noticed. At noon of the day 
 after our arrival, a royal salute was fired from the Victory (flag ship), from 
 the fortifications, and from the Shannon, at Spithead. 
 
 The queen having expressed a wish to visit the Resolute, and a desire 
 that the vessel might be taken to Cowes, near her majesty s private resi 
 dence, the ship was towed thither by the government steamer, escorted by 
 two other steamers and the steam frigate Retribution. 
 
 Meanwhile, the necessary diplomatic formalities had been exchanged be 
 tween the American minister and Lord Clarendon. 
 
 Of the queen s visit to the Resolute, which took place on the 16th of 
 December, we quote the following description from the London Times : 
 
 * The queen, accompanied by Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, the 
 Princess Royal, and the Princess Alice, left Osborne at a quarter past ten 
 o clock, and drove to the ship in an open carriage, drawn by four gray 
 ponies. Her majesty was attended by a distinguished suite. The Reso 
 lute, dressed in her colors, was lashed alongside of the royal embarkation 
 place at Trinity Wharf. The English and American flags were flying at 
 the peak ; and, as soon as the queen set her foot on the deck, tho royal 
 standard was hoisted at the main. The Retribution fired a salute, the 
 boats crews tossed* their oars, and the ship s company, standing on the 
 rail, received her majesty with three rounds of cheers. Captain Hartstein 
 received the royal party at the gangway, and the officers, in full uniform, 
 were grouped on either side. All were presented to the queen by Captain 
 Hartstein, who then addressed her majesty in the following words : 
 
 Allow me to welcome your majesty on board the Resolute, and, in obe 
 dience to the will of my countrymen and the President of the United 
 States, to restore her to you, not only as an evidence of a friendly feeling 
 to your sovereignty, but as a token of love, admiration, and respect to your 
 mniesty personally. 
 
 The queen seemed touched by the manly simplicity of this frank and 
 sailor-like address, and replied, with a gracious smile, I thank you, sir. 
 The royal family then went over the ship, and examined her with manifest 
 interest. 
 
 After the withdrawal of the royal party, there was an elegant dejeuner* 
 in the wardroom, at which, among other toasts, was given, The future suc 
 cess of the Resolute, and may she be again employed in search for Sir John 
 Franklin and his comrades. The sentiment evoked cordial applause. 
 
646 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 On the afternoon of the same day, I received, says Captain Hartstoin, 
 a note, inclosing a check for one hundred pounds, with a request from her 
 majesty that it should be distributed among the crew ; which I accepted in 
 their behalf. 
 
 On the morning of December 17th, the Resolute was towed up to the 
 harbor of Portsmouth, escorted by the steam frigate Retribution ; and, on 
 arriving at her anchorage, was received by another royal salute, and with 
 guch an outburst of popular feeling as was never known before. 
 
 The British government and people were unremitting in their attentions 
 to Captain Hartstein and his officers, during their stay in England. Three 
 splendid Christmas cakes were forwarded by Lady Franklin to Portsmouth, 
 to be presented to the American officers and crew. A passage to the United 
 States, in the British steamer Retribution, was tendered them. This, how 
 ever, it was thought best to decline. On the 30th of December, 1856, the 
 American flag was hauled down on board the Resolute, when it was saluted 
 by the Victory with twenty-one guns, llie union -jack was then hoisted, 
 and the ship was given up to the authorities. The next day the American 
 officers and crew left England, on their return to the United States. 
 
 By late English papers, we learn that the queen has commissioned Mr. 
 William Simpson, the artist of the Crimean war, to paint for her private 
 gallery a picture of the * Reception on board the Resolute a very graceful 
 memorial of a most interesting act of international courtesy." 
 
 AMERICANS IN AUSTRALIA. 
 
 Our countrymen who have wandered to the antipodes, although they do 
 not rise until we sit down to our suppers, and in some other habits, occa 
 sioned by geographical and climatic necessities, are the reverse of us, yet 
 seem to preserve all our essential national traits, judging from a published 
 series of " fast " letters from a youthful American merchant, Mr. George 
 Francis Train, and entitled "Young America Abroad." One of these, dated 
 at Melbourne, Australia, we extract entire, as it shows what some of our 
 people are about, and what their behavior in that far-distant quarter of the 
 globe. 
 
 "You will be surprised to see how fast this place is becoming American 
 ized. Go where you will, from Sand ridge to Bendigo, from the "Ovens" 
 to Balaarat, you can but note some indication of the indomitable energy of 
 our people. Hang a coffee-bag in that place, noted for the warmth of its 
 temperature and the morals of its inhabitants, and a Yankee will be sure to 
 find it, says some observer of our national character. 
 
 The true American defies competition, and laughs sneeringly at impos 
 sibilities. He don t believe in the word, and is prepared to show how 
 meaningless it is. It is not an unusual thing to hear the movers of some 
 undertaking that has been dragging its slow carcass along, remark : If you 
 want to have the jetty finished, you must let the Americans take hold of it ; 
 and sure enough they have obtained the contract to complete the Hobson a 
 Bay Railroad Pier, and our countrymen mechanics invariably receive the 
 preference. 
 
 A mail or two since I wrote you about the Tittlebat appearance of the 
 Melbourne fire brigade at the late fire in Collins street, and suggested the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 64:7 
 
 propriety of your sending us out a Boston tub or two, just for aggravation 
 sake. Hardly had my letter cleared the Heads before we had another 
 scorcher, more furious than the first, burning down some half-dozen build 
 ings in Flanders lane. The Americans could not endure it any longer, and 
 on the spot determined to volunteer their services for the public good. It 
 was too much for our weak nerves to see the reckless destruction of pro 
 perty, simply for want of a suitable engine. The next morning our paper 
 was started and sixteen thousand dollars subscribed in less time than it takes 
 to perform the Episcopal service, for the purchasing of the suitable apparatus 
 for a thoroughly efficient fire department under the volunteer system. After 
 all the American houses had contributed their fifty pounds, the paper was 
 passed around among the merchants of all nations, who gladly gave us a 
 helping hand. A committee has been appointed to wait upon his excel 
 lency, with a brief outline of our system of managing such affairs, and to 
 request the government to furnish us with engine houses, etc., if it met 
 with his sanction and approval. A meeting will be called to hear the 
 report of said committee, and if favorable, the orders for the engines will be 
 Bent forthwith. 
 
 As most of the Atlantic States are represented here by mercantile housest 
 there is quite a difference of opinion about where, and by whom said 
 machinery shall be made some say Boston and I most respectfully would 
 intimate that I am one of that number, having for man} years a most 
 religious belief in the superiority of that city over many others for clipper 
 ships, clipper mechanics, clipper engines, clipper scholars and clipper mer 
 chants. Some say New York, others, Philadelphia, while one or two 
 believe in Baltimore. To settle the question, we may have to draw from 
 each an engine for competition sake each maker will then be striving to 
 excel, and we shall accordingly get the best mer-chines. 
 
 This movement will show you that the Americans are not asleep. 
 
 A few days since I was trying my vail, preparatory for the dust that 
 sweeps along Collins street, between Queens and Sawston, when my old 
 eyes were made glad by the appearance of a real old Boston water-cart in 
 full operation. The streets were being watered, and t was amusing to see 
 the astonished natives on each side gaping incredulously at the watering 
 machine. No wonder, poor benighted race. It was something they never 
 dreamed of; they could not understand how kbat water, which they were 
 paying two dollars a cask for, should be scattered up and down the streets. 
 One man, more intelligent than the rest, had presence of mind enough to 
 climb up on the wheel and tell the driver, amid a shout from the knowing 
 ones, that the water was all leaking out of his cart ! 
 
 On inquiry, I -found that an American was watering the street on sub 
 scription. I noticed one spot in the middle of the street as dusty as ever, 
 while either side was carefully sprinkled. It seems that the occupant of 
 the store adjoining declined paying for the luxury, so the driver stopped 
 just before, and commenced sprinkling again just after having passed his 
 door ! 
 
 A company of American Californians have started a line of passenger 
 wagons (American, of course, made at Concord) to Bendigo ; another party 
 have two teams running from Geelong to Balaarat ; and some Cape Cod 
 
648 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 folks are doing a good business with some Yankee coaches between Sand- 
 ridge and Melbourne. 
 
 There are about one hundred New York buggy wagons in and about the 
 city, mostly owned by Englishmen, who for a long time could n>t believo 
 that the tiny spokes and slender wheels and springs were sufficiently strong 
 to carry their weight ! They are much delighted with the covered buggies, 
 and well they may be, for the sun comes down most scorchingly upon those 
 who sport a dog cart ! 
 
 Some two or three Americans are engaged in catching fish, some forty 
 miles from town, for this market ; another party are cutting firewood at the 
 Heads, on speculation while Moss is selling American ice at the Criterion 
 at fifty cents a pound. 
 
 American timber shuts out the colonial ; and American mining tools have 
 already displaced the English. 
 
 American liquors stand no chance here, but the American drinks are 
 very popular. And now, having exercised the peculiar privilege of an Ameri 
 can in saying what he can of his countrymen, permit me to wish you and 
 your readers as many happy returns of the new year as it may be pleasant 
 for you and them to enjoy." 
 
 It seems our countrymen there do not forget to celebrate the 4th of July. 
 On an occasion of this kind the writer of the above quoted letter, in re 
 sponse to a toast to " G. F. Train and Young America," made a character 
 istic speech, which, considering the place and circumstances, does well to 
 extract in this connection. After tracing the descent of Young America for 
 a thousand years, he says : 
 
 " But if the retrospective view has dazzled us, how much more astonish 
 ing is the present ; when our thirteen little States are rolling on toward 
 forty living Republics, bound together as one nation ; when our three 
 millions have grown to thirty, and driven by the hand of God, to quote 
 De Tocqueville, are peopling the Western wilderness at the average rate of 
 seventeen miles per annum ; when our Lilliputian commerce has whitened 
 every sea, and our mother tongue has worked its way into every land, and 
 when our influence and our progress, like the ripples in mid-ocean, reach 
 from shore to shore. 
 
 Startle not, my friends, at the lightning pace of the pilgrim s steed. He 
 is sure to win the race naught stops him in his destiny ; when danger lurks 
 in his pathway, he turns high his head and snorts a proud defiance at the 
 precipice that would have ruined him, and plunges on to victory. * * * 
 Young America is only another edition of Old England, in a binding 
 peculiar to the New World. Young John Bull in his shirt sleeves, working 
 with an energy that commands success. England and America are partners, 
 not rivals. The younger nation is the junior, who manages the western 
 branches of the old concern. Youth gives activity, and hence the young 
 man opens his letters before breakfast, on the steps of the postoffice, while 
 the old gentleman prefers breaking the seal in dressing-gown and slippers 
 after dinner. Young America showed the same feelings of independence in 
 establishing a house of his own, that every young man experiences who 
 leaves the old house to earn an honest livelihood by his own exertions. 
 
 In this instance, however, the connection with the old concern is of mor* 
 
OF AMERICANS. 
 
 value than that with the balance of the world. The revolution was merely 
 an animated conversation, where shot and cannon were introduced to give 
 emphasis to the debate, and when the disputed point was settled, old 
 England rose with renewed vigor, in Young America. The sources of dis 
 cord soon began to dry, and now, as the flower turns to the sun, the needla 
 to the magnet, the child to its mother, as the twin brothers of Siam receive 
 each the same emotions, so are we bound by speaking the same language, 
 and worshiping the same God, to remember England, the proud old 
 mother of our race, 
 
 And join the Stars, and Stripes, and Cross in one fraternal baud, 
 Till Anglo-Saxon faith and laws illumine every land. " 
 
 AMERICAN ENTERPRISE. 
 
 A rather sterile soil and a hard climate, in which winter holds for a large 
 part of the year, are fortunate conditions for the real welfare and advance 
 ment of a people ; for these require extra exertions to secure a liveli 
 hood, and this extra labor so develops and disciplines all the faculties, that 
 it seems as if only under such circumstances that an entire people will ever 
 become greatly prosperous. This is the position of the inhabitants of New 
 England, who, from apparently the most unpropitious circumstances of soil 
 and climate, have opened new avenues of enterprise, and made their land 
 teem with the riches of a most varied industry. 
 
 We propose here to speak only of one branch the ICE trade, a business 
 which, from its recent origin and novelty, has been a subject of unusual 
 comment. Ice being a product of the north, was unknown to the inhabit 
 ants of the torrid zone until brought to them through the agency of com- 
 morce. An anecdote in point is somewhere told of an English sailor, who, 
 in his wanderings, was brought before an Eastern Pasha, whom he amused 
 with a long series of the most absurd, incredible yarns, in sailor fashion, all 
 of which were listened to and believed with Mussulman-like gravity and 
 honesty, until he unluckily mentioned, that in his country the cold often 
 was so severe that the water actually grew solid so that people could walk 
 upon it, whereupon the Pasha flew into a storm of passion, declared that lie 
 now did riot believe anything he had said, and finished by ordering him to 
 be bastinadoed on the spot for a consummate liar ! 
 
 Ice is said to be only the natural condition of water, that is, water with 
 out the admixture of the foreign element heat. The ice harvest, matured 
 and ripened by cold, is watched with as much eagerness by those in the 
 trade, as his golden-hued harvest is watched by the farmer, for both alike 
 are sources of wealth. Ice was used for domestic consumption in this 
 country previous to this century. Hunt s Merchant s Magazine for August, 
 1855, has an interesting article giving the history and statistics of this 
 business, from which we extract the following : 
 
 " The idea of exporting ice to low latitudes was first developed by 
 Frederic Tudor, Esq., of Boston, in August, 1805. During the following 
 February he shipped the first cargo of ice that was ever exported from this 
 country, and probably from any other, in a brig belonging to himself, from 
 Boston to Martinique. 
 
 Although Mr. Tudor went on with the first ice that he dispatched to the 
 
050 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS 
 
 West Indies, the voyage was attended with great losses. These happened 
 in consequence of the want of ice-houses, and the expense of fitting out two 
 agents to the different islands, to announce the project, and to secure some 
 advantages. But a greater loss arose from the dismasting of the brig in the 
 vicinity of Martinique. The embargo and war intervened to suspend the 
 business, but it was renewed on the return of peace. As late as 1823, con 
 tinued disasters attended the business, which largely affected the finances 
 and health of Mr. Tudor. After an illness of two years, he was enabled to 
 proceed and to extend the business to several of tli3 Southern States, and to 
 other of the West Indies. In 1834, his ships carried the frozen element to 
 the East Indies and to Brazil, an important event in itself, since no other 
 vessel had ever visited those distant parts of the world on a similar errand, 
 and because they have proved good markets from that day to this. 
 
 It is now half a century since the founder of this trade commenced it. 
 He is still actively and largely engaged in the business, and notwithstanding 
 early losses, by pursuing the same business, for a long period of years, 
 he has found an ample reward. The great increase of the Boston ice 
 trade has been since 1832. In that year the whole amount shipped was 
 but four thousand three hundred and fifty-two tuns, which was cut at Fresh 
 Pond by Mr. Tudor. In the year 1854, the amount exported from Boston 
 was one hundred and fifty-six thousand five hundred and forty tuns. In 
 the preceding year there were but one hundred thousand tuns shipped. In 
 1845 there were but forty-eight thousand four hundred and twenty-two 
 tuns exported. The railroads receive some ninety thousand dollars for 
 transporting ice, and those who bear it over the sea from four hundred 
 thousand dollars to five hundred thousand. 
 
 Boston finds the best market for ice hi the ports of southern cities. Of 
 all that was exported last year, about one hundred and ten thousand tuns 
 were sold in those cities. The next best market was the East Indies, where 
 fourteen thousand two hundred and eighty-four tuns were sold. Other 
 moderately good markets were Havana, Rio Janeiro, Callao, Demerara, St. 
 Thomas, and Peru. Of the whole of last year s exports, only eight hundred 
 and ninety-five tuns were sent to Great Britain, and that was landed at 
 Liverpool. Years ago we were accustomed to hear how delighted the 
 Queen of England was with our Newham Lake ice. The mother-land 
 now ships a portion of its ice from Norway, which is believed to be the 
 only nation that exports ice, save the United States. 
 
 The leading house in Boston that is engaged in the exporting of ice is 
 that of Gage, Hittenger & Co., which exported last year exactly ninety-one 
 thousand five hundred and forty tuns. The remainder for the year, sixty- 
 five thousand tuns, was exported by Frederic Tudor, Daniel Draper & Son, 
 Russell, Harrington & Co., and by the New England Ice Company. The 
 number of vessels engaged in these shipments was five hundred and twenty. 
 The exports of ice from Boston furnish the largest amount of tunnage of any 
 other item. The commercial marine of the United States has been mate 
 rially increased by the operations of the ice trade. A large portion of tha 
 vessels formerly engaged in the freighting trade from Boston^ sailed in 
 ballast, depending for remuneration on freight of cotton, rice, tobacco, sugar,, 
 etc., to be obtained in more southern latitudes, often competing with the 
 
OF AMERICANS. 651 
 
 ressols of other nations which could earn a freight out and home. Now a 
 small outward freight from Boston can usually be obtained for the trans 
 portation of ice to those places where freighting vessels ordinarily obtain 
 cargoes. 
 
 The ice-houses at Fresh Pond in 1847, were capable of containing eighty- 
 Bix thousand seven hundred and thirty-two tuns, or more than half the ice 
 that was gathered in Massachusetts at that time. In that year the accom 
 modation at seven other ponds in the vicinity of Boston was equal to the 
 storage of fifty-four thousand six hundred tuns. These ice-houses have 
 been so increased that in 1854 their storage capacity was three hundred 
 thousand tuns. 
 
 From what has been said, it is clear that the ice trade is no mean one. 
 Though it has advanced quietly, and has as yet scarcely made any figure in 
 the literature of commerce, it is destined to be a very large business in this 
 country. Already, from all that we can learn, there is invested in this 
 branch of business, in all parts of the United States, not less than from six 
 to seven millions of dollars. In ten years, judging from the past, it may be 
 twice as great as at the present time. The number of men employed more 
 or less of the winter in the business in Boston and vicinity is estimated at 
 from two thousand to three thousand ; and in the whole country there are 
 supposed to be eight thousand to ten thousand employed. 
 
 All this is a clear gain to the productive industry of the country. Many 
 men are thus employed at a season of the year when employment is the 
 scarcest, and at fair prices of about $30 a month each, or $1,25 a day. 
 Nor is this all. The value of all real estate has been much enhanced in 
 the neighborhood of all fresh bodies of water where ice is secured, and new 
 U .isiness advantages are constantly obtained. 
 
 Ice was formerly regarded as a luxury, only to be enjoyed by the wealthy, 
 or by those well-to-do in the world. But within a few years it has been 
 regarded, not merely as a luxury, but as a necessary of life, and desirable 
 to be secured during the warm months by every family. Ice, too, has its 
 medical uses. It is a tonic, and almost the only one, which, in its reaction 
 produces no injury. It is stated that in India the first prescription of the 
 physician to his patient is usually ice, and it is sometimes the only one. 
 
 We cannot close better than in the language of Hon. Edward Everett, who, 
 in paying a worthy tribute a few years ago to the gentleman who first en 
 gaged in the ice trade on a large scale, has, by his beautiful words, given 
 r/armth to a very cold subject : 
 
 " The gold expended by this gentleman (Mr. Frederic Tudor) at Nahant 
 whether it is little or much, was originally derived, not from California, but 
 from the ice of our own Fresh Pond. It is all Middlesex gold, every penny 
 of it. The sparkling surface of our beautiful ponds, restored by the kindly 
 hand of nature as often as it is removed, has yielded, and will continue to 
 yield, ages after the wet diggings and the dry diggings of the Sacramento 
 and the Feather Rivers are exhausted, a perpetual reward to the industry 
 bestowed upon them. The sallow genius of the mine creates but once ; 
 when rifled by man the glittering prize is gone forever. Not so with our 
 pure crystal lakes. 
 
 " This is a branch of Middlesex industry that we have a right to be 
 
G52 ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 of. I do not think we have yet done justice W it ; and I look upon Mr 
 Tudor, the first person who took up this business on a large scale, as a great 
 puplic benefactor. He has carried comfort, in its most inoffensive and salu 
 tary form, not only to the dairies and tables of our own community, but to 
 those of other regions, throughout the tropics, to the farthest East. 
 
 When I had the honor to represent the country at London, I was a little 
 struck one day, at the royal drawing-room, to see the President of the Board 
 of Control (the board charged with the supervision of the government of 
 India) approaching me with a stranger at that time much talked of in Lon 
 don the Babu Dvvarkananth Tagore. This persoi?, who is now living, 
 was a Hindoo of great wealth, liberty, and intelligence. He was dressed 
 with Oriental magnificence he had on his head, by way of turban, a rich 
 Cashmere shawl, held together by a large diamond broach ; another Cash 
 mere around his body ; his countenance and manners were those of a highly 
 intelligent and remarkable person, as he was. After the ceremony of intro 
 duction was over, he said he wished to make his acknowledgments to me, 
 as the American minister, for the benefits which my countrymen had con 
 ferred on his countrymen. I did not at first know what he referred to ; I 
 thought he might have in view the mission schools, knowing, as I did, that 
 he himself had done a great deal for education. He immediately said that 
 he referred to the cargoes of ice sent from America to India, conducing not 
 only to comfort, but health ; adding that numerous lives were saved every 
 year by applying lumps of American ice to the head of the patient in cases 
 of high fever. He asked me if I knew from what part of America it 
 came. It gave me great pleasure to tell him that I lived, when at home, 
 within a short distance of the spot from which it was brought. It was a 
 most agreeable circumstance to hear, in this authentic way, that the sagacity 
 and enterprise of my friend and neighbor had converted the pure waters 
 of our lakes into the means, not only of promoting health, but saving life, 
 at the antipodes. I must sa} T I almost envied Mr. Tudor the honest satis 
 faction which he could not but feel, in reflecting that he had been able to 
 stretch out an arm of benevolence from the other side of the globe, by 
 which he was every year raising up his fellow-men from the verge of the 
 grave. How few of all the foreigners who have entered India, from the 
 time of Sesostris or Alexander the Great to the present time, can say as 
 much ! Others, at best, have gone to govern, too often to plunder and to 
 jjjay our countryman has gone there, not to destroy life, but to save it to 
 Denefit them while he reaps a well-earned harvest himself." 
 
A COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 CHOICE AMERICA! POETRY, 
 
 PATRIOTIC, DOMESTIC, RELIGIOUS, SENTIMENTAL, HUMOROUS, ETC. 
 
 "YOUNG AMERICA TAKING HIS 
 FIRST STEPS." 
 
 CORA M. EAGER. 
 
 The following lines are from a young lady 
 of Cincinnati. They were suggested by the 
 beautiful design made for us by Mr. F. 0. 
 C. Darley, which wo have entitled as 
 above, and show in the well rendered il 
 lustration on the opposite leaf, engraved 
 by Mr. E. D. Hayes. 
 
 You toddling, dainty, winsome elf, 
 
 You brightest, dearest joy, 
 Your father s very second self, 
 
 And grandpa s priceless toy ; 
 Spread out your tiuy, tender feet, 
 
 So rounded like a ball 
 I 11 welcome you with kisses sweet, . 
 
 Aud catch you if you fall. 
 
 Aud when increasing strength shall lead 
 
 Your bounding steps away, 
 And Vice, mayhap, in after years, 
 
 Shall tempt you far astray, 
 My love shall wiu you gently back, 
 
 My ready arm uphold 
 Your mother s heart is held, my boy, 
 
 By stronger chains than gold ! 
 
 And then I 11 tell you how a child 
 
 Its native land forsook, 
 And wander d wearily beyond 
 
 The valley and the brook ; 
 I 11 tell you how its cradle-bed 
 
 Was rock d by servile hands 
 That twas not Vice but LIBERTY 
 
 That lur d to other lands. 
 
 And how he clirnb d the mountain s height, 
 
 Nor laid him down to rest, 
 But pray d a mother s love would light 
 
 His pathway to the West ; 
 And how that royal mother spurn d 
 
 The offspring of her youth ; 
 And how GOD led him boldly on 
 
 To battle for the Truth ; " 
 
 How ev ry onward step was blood, 
 
 And every foot-print fire ; 
 And how his little heart reach d up 
 
 And grasp d at something higher. 
 He grew to manhood, wise and strong, 
 
 All nations call him brother 
 T is " YOUNG AMERICA," my boy, 
 
 And England is the mother ! 
 
 Aud now she logics with regal pride 
 
 Upon her noble sou, 
 And blesses Him whose better love 
 
 Has knit their hearts in one. 
 And thus I bless the Hand, my boy, 
 
 That gave my life its crown 
 Be Love thy lance, be Truth thy shield, 
 
 And, Virtue thy renown. 
 
 LINES ON THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN 
 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 " THE HERO MARTYR OF THE AMERICAN 
 REVOLUTION." 
 
 FRANCIS MILES FINCH. 
 
 The dying words of the young patriot were, 
 My only regret is that I have but one life 
 to lose for my country!" 
 
 To drum-beat and heart-beat, 
 
 A soldier passes by ; 
 There is color in his cheek, 
 
 There is courage in his eye ; 
 Yet to drum-beat and heart- beat, 
 
 In a moment he must die! 
 
 By star-light and moon-light 
 He seeks the Briton s camp ; 
 
 He hears the rustling flag, 
 
 And the armed sentry s tramp : 
 
 And the star-light and moon-light, 
 His silent wanderings lamp. 
 
 With slow tread and still tread, 
 
 He scans the tented line ; 
 And he counts the batterv-guns 
 (653) 
 
654 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 By the gaunt and shadowy piue ; 
 And his slow tread and still tread 
 Give no waruiug sign. 
 
 The dark wave, the plumed wave ! 
 
 It meets his eager glance ; 
 And it sparkles neath the stars, 
 
 Like the glimmer of a lance ; 
 A dark wave, a plumed wave, 
 
 On an emerald expanse. 
 
 A sharp clang, a steel clang 1 
 
 And terror iu the sound ; 
 For the sentry, falcon-eyed, 
 
 In the camp a spy hath found : 
 With a sharp clang, a steel clang, 
 
 The patriot is bound. 
 
 With calm brow, steady brow, 
 
 He listens to his doom ; 
 In his look there is no fear, 
 
 Nor a shadow-trace of gloom ; 
 But with calm brow, and steady brow, 
 
 He robes him for the tomb. 
 
 In the long night, the stiD night, 
 
 He kneels upon the sod ; 
 And the brutal guards withhold 
 
 E en the solemn Word of God ! 
 In the long night, the still night, 
 
 He walks where Christ hath trod. 
 
 Neath the blue morn, the sunny morn, 
 
 He dies upon the tree ; 
 And he mourns that he can lose 
 
 But one life for Liberty : 
 And the blue morn, the sunny morn, 
 
 His spirit- wings are free. 
 
 But his last words, his message words, 
 They burn, lest friendly eye 
 
 Should read how proud and calm 
 A patriot could die ; 
 
 With his last words, his dying words, 
 A soldier s battle-cry ! 
 
 From Fame-leaf and Angel-leaf, 
 
 From monument and urn, 
 The sad of Earth, the glad of Heaven, 
 
 His tragic fate shall learn ; 
 And on Fame-leaf and Angel-leaf, - 
 
 The name of HALE shall burn. 
 
 TO MY MOTHER. 
 
 The following lines, written by a convict of 
 the Ohio Penitentiary, are touchingly 
 beautiful : 
 
 I ve wandered far from thee, mother, 
 Far from my happy home ; 
 
 I ve left the land that gave me birth, 
 Iu other climes to roam ; 
 
 And time, since then, has rolled its yean 
 And marked them on my brow: 
 
 Yet I have olten thought of thee 
 I m thi ukiug of thee now 
 
 I m thinking ou the day, mother, 
 
 When at my tender side 
 You watched the dawning of my youth, 
 
 And kissed me in your pride ^ 
 Then brightly was my heart lit up 
 
 With hopes of future joy, 
 While your bright fancy honors wove, 
 
 To deck your darling boy. 
 
 I m thinking ou the day, mother, 
 
 When, with anxious care, 
 You lifted up your heart to heaven 
 
 Your hope, your trust was there ; 
 Sad memory brings your parting wordi 
 
 While tears roll d down your cheek ; 
 Your long, last, loving look told more 
 
 Than ever words could speak. 
 
 I m far away from thee, mother, 
 
 No friend is near me now, 
 To soothe me with a tender word, 
 
 Or cool my aching brow ; 
 The dearest ties affection wove, 
 
 Are now all torn from me ; 
 They left me when the trouble came 
 
 They did not love like thee. 
 
 I m lonely and forsaken now, 
 
 Uupitied and unblest; 
 Yet still I would not let you know 
 
 How sorely I m distressed; 
 I know you would not chide me, mother. 
 
 I know you would not blame 
 But soothe me with your tender words, 
 
 And bid me hope again. 
 
 I would not have thee know, mother, 
 
 How brightest hopes decay ; 
 The tempter with his baleful cup, 
 
 Has dashed them all away ; 
 And shame has left its venomed sting, 
 
 To rack with anguish wild 
 no ! I would not have thee know 
 
 The sorrow of thy child. 
 
 O ! I have wandered far, mother, 
 
 Since I deserted thee, 
 And left thy trusting heart to break, 
 
 Beyond the deep blue sea ; 
 ! mother, still I love thee well, 
 
 Would I could hoar thee speak, 
 And feel again thy balmy breath 
 
 Upon my care-worn cheek. 
 
 But ah ! there is a thought, mother, 
 
 Pervades my bleeding breast, 
 That thy freed spirit may have flown 
 
 To its eternal rest ; 
 And while I wipe the tear away, 
 
 There whispers in my ear 
 A voice that speaks of heaven and the* 
 
 And bids me meet thee there. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 655 
 
 FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTII LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Born at Portland in 1807 Professor in Har 
 vard University. 
 
 When the hours of day are ri umber d, 
 
 And the voices of the Night 
 Wake the better soul that slumber d 
 To a holy, calm delight ; 
 
 Ere the evening lamps are lighted, 
 And, like phantoms grim and tall, 
 
 Shadows from the fitful fire-light 
 Dance upon the parlor-wall ; 
 
 Then the forms of the departed 
 
 Enter at the open door ; 
 The beloved ones, the true -hearted, 
 
 Come to visit me once more ; 
 
 He, the young and strong, who cherish d 
 Noble longings for the strife 
 
 By the roadside fell and perished, 
 Weary with the march of life ! 
 
 They, the holy ones and weakly, 
 
 Who the cross of suffering bore 
 Folded their pale hands so meekly 
 Spake with us on earth no more 1 
 
 And with them the Being Beauteous, 
 Who unto my youth was given, 
 
 More than all things else to love me, 
 And is now a saint in heaven. 
 
 With slow and noiseless footstep, 
 Comes that messenger divine, 
 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
 Lays her gentle hand in mine. 
 
 And she sits and gazes at me, 
 With those deep and tender eyes, 
 Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
 Looking downward from the skies. 
 
 Utter d not. yet comprehended, 
 Is the spirit s voiceless prayer, 
 
 Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, 
 Breathing from her lips of air. 
 
 0, though oft oppress d and lonely, 
 
 All my fears are laid aside, 
 If I but remember only 
 
 Such as these have lived and died ! 
 
 A CASTLE IN THE AIR. 
 
 LEVI FKISBIE. 
 
 Professor in Harvard University Died in 
 
 3822. 
 
 I 11 tell you, friend, what sort of wife. 
 Whene er I scan this scene of life, 
 
 Inspires my waking schemes, 
 And when I sleep, with form so light, 
 Dances before my ravish d sight, 
 
 In sweet aerial dreams. 
 
 The rose its blushes need not lend, 
 Nor yet the lily with them blend, 
 
 To captivate my eyes. 
 Give me a cheek the heart obeys, 
 And, sweetly mutable, displays 
 
 Its feelings as they rise ; 
 
 Features, where, pensive, more than gay, 
 Save when a rising smile doth play, 
 
 The sober thought you see ; 
 Eyes that all soft and tender seem, 
 And kind affections around them beam 
 
 But most of all on me ; 
 
 A form, though not of finest mould, 
 Where yet a something you behold 
 
 Unconsciously doth please ; 
 Manners all graceful without art, 
 That to each look and word impart 
 
 A modesty and ease. 
 
 But still her air, her face, each charm 
 Must speak a heart with feeling warm, 
 
 And mind inform the whole ; 
 With mind her mantling cheek must glow, 
 Her voice, her beaming eye must show 
 
 An all-inspiring soul. 
 
 Ah ! could I such a being find, 
 And were her fate to mine but join d 
 
 By Hymen s silken tie, 
 To her myself, my all I d give, 
 For her alone delighted live, 
 
 For her consent to die. 
 
 Whene er by anxious care oppress d, 
 On the soft pillow of her breast 
 
 My aching head I d lay ; 
 At her sweet smile each care should cease, 
 Her kiss infuse a balmy peace, 
 
 And drive my griefs away. 
 
 In turn, I d soften all her care, [share ; 
 Each thought, each wish, each feeling 
 
 Should sickness e er invade, 
 My voice should soothe each rising sigh, 
 My hand the cordial should supply ; 
 
 I d watch beside her bed. 
 
 Should gathering clouds our sky deform, 
 My arm should shield her from the storm ; 
 
 And, were its fury hurl d, 
 My bosom to its bolts I d bare ; 
 In her defense undaunted dare 
 
 Defy the opposing world. 
 
 Together should our prayers ascend ; 
 Together would we humbly bend, 
 
 To praise the Almighty name ; 
 And when I saw her kindling eye 
 Beam upward in her native sky, 
 
 My soul should catch the flame. 
 
 Thus nothing should our hearts divide, 
 But on our years serenely glide, 
 
 And all to love be given ; 
 And, when life s little scene was o er, 
 We d part to meet and part no more, 
 
 But lire and love in heaven. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 RICHARD HENRY WILDE. 
 
 [Bern in 1789, and passed his youth in Bal 
 timore Representative in Congress from 
 Georgia Died 1847, in New Orleans, then 
 Professor of Law in the University of Lou 
 isiana.] 
 
 Mr life is like the summer rose 
 
 That opens to the morning sky, 
 But ere the shades of evening close, 
 
 Is scatter d on the ground to die ! 
 Y(;t 011 the rose s humble bed 
 The sweetest dews of night are shed, 
 As if she wept the waste to see 
 But none shall weep a tear for me ! 
 
 My life is like the autumn leaf 
 
 That trembles in the moon s pale ray, 
 Its hold is frail its date is brief, 
 
 Restless and soon to pass away ! 
 Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, 
 The parent tree will mourn its shade, 
 The winds bewail the leafless tree, 
 But none shall breathe a sigh for me ! 
 
 My life is like the prints, which feet 
 
 Have left on Tampa s desert strand ! 
 Soon as the rising tide shall beat, 
 
 All trace will vanish from the sand ; 
 Yet, as if grieving to efface 
 All vestige of the human race, 
 On that lone shore loud moans the sea, 
 But none, alas ! shall mourn for me ! 
 
 THE AMERICAN FLAG. 
 
 JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. 
 
 TBorn in New York in 1795 Died in 1820 of 
 consumption, in his 26th year A beautiful 
 poem to his memory by his friend Halleck 
 is in this collection.] 
 
 When Freedom from her mountain height 
 
 Unfurl d her standard to the air, 
 She tore the azure robe of night, 
 
 Aud set the stars of glory there. 
 She mingled with its gorgeous dyes 
 The milky baldric of the^skies, 
 And striped its pure, celestial white 
 With streakingfi of the morning light ; 
 Then from his mansion in the sun 
 She call d her eagle bearer down, 
 And gave into his mighty hand 
 The symbol of her chosen laud. 
 
 Majestic monarch of the cloud, 
 
 Who rear st aloft thy regal form, 
 To hear the tempest trnmpings loud 
 And see the lightning lances driven, 
 When strive the warriors of the storm, 
 
 And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven- 
 Child of the sun! to thee tis given 
 
 To guard the banner of the free, 
 To hover in the sulphur smoke, 
 To ward away the battle-stroke, 
 And bid its Mendings shine afar, 
 Like rainbows on the cloud of war, 
 
 The harbingers of victory ! 
 
 in. 
 
 Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly, 
 The sign of hope and triumph high, 
 When speaks the signal trumpet tone, 
 And the long line comes gleaming on. 
 Ere yet the life-blood, warm and "wet, 
 Has dimrn d the glistening bayonet, 
 Each soldier eye shall brightly turn 
 To where thy sky-born glories burn ; 
 And as his springing steps advance, 
 Catch war and vengeance from the glance 
 Aud when the cannon mouthings loud 
 Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud, 
 And gory sabers rise and fall 
 Like shoots of flame on midnight s pall ; 
 
 Then shall thy meteor glances glow, 
 And cowering foes shall sink beneath 
 
 Each gallant arm that strikes below 
 That lovely messenger of death. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Flag of the seas ! on ocean wave 
 Thy stars shall glitter o er the brave; 
 When death, careering on the gale, 
 Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, 
 And frighted waves rush wildly back 
 Before the broadside s reeling rack, 
 Each dying wanderer of the sea 
 Shall look at once to heaven and thee, 
 And smile to see thy splendors fly 
 In triumph o er his closing eye. 
 
 v. 
 Flag of the free heart s hope and home ! 
 
 By angel hands to valor given ; 
 The stars have lit the welkin dome, 
 
 And all thy hues were born in heaven. 
 Forever float that standard sheet ! 
 
 Where breathes the foe but falls before us 
 With Freedom s soil beneath our feet, 
 
 And Freedom s banner streaming o er us ! 
 
 FAMILY MEETING 
 
 CHARLES SPRAGUE. 
 
 [Born in Boston in 1791 Cashier of Globo 
 Bank, Boston This poem was written on 
 the accidental meetinj, of all the surviving 
 members of a family.] 
 
 We are all here ! 
 
 Father, mother, 
 
 Sister, brother, 
 
 All who hold each other dear. 
 Each chair is fill d we re all at home ; 
 To-night let no cold stranger come : 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 657 
 
 It is not often thus around 
 Our old familiar hearth we re found: 
 Bless, then, the meeting and the spot; 
 For once be every cave forgot; 
 Let gentle Peace assert her power, 
 And kind Affection rule the hour; 
 We re all all here. 
 
 We re not all here ! 
 Som? are awnv the dead ones dear, 
 Who thronged* with us this ancient hearth, 
 And gave the hour to guiltless mirth. 
 Fate, with a stern, relentless hand, 
 Look d in, and thinn d our little band: 
 Some, like a night flash, passed away, 
 And some sank, lingering, day by day; 
 The quiet graveyard some lie there 
 And cruel Ocean has his share 
 
 We re not all here. 
 
 We ore all here! 
 Even they the dead though dead, so 
 
 dear; 
 
 Fond Memory, to her duty true, 
 Brings back their faded forms to view. 
 How life-like, through the mist of years, 
 Each well-remembered face appears! 
 We see them in times long past; 
 From each to each kind looks are cast; 
 We hear their words, their smiles behold; 
 They re round us as they were of old 
 
 We are all here. 
 
 We are all here! 
 
 Father, mother, 
 
 Sister, brother, 
 
 You that I love with love so dear. 
 This may not long of us be said; 
 Soon must we join the gather d dead; 
 And by the hearth we now sit round, 
 Some other circle will be found. 
 O ! then, that wisdom may we know, 
 Which yields a life of peace below! 
 So, in the world to follow this, 
 May each repeat, in tones of bliss, 
 
 We re all allure. 
 
 SPARKLING AND BRIGHT. 
 
 CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN. 
 
 Born in Now York in 180G Original editor 
 
 of Knickerbocker Magazine. 
 
 Sparkling and bright in liquid light 
 
 Does the wine our goblets gleam in, 
 With hue as red as the rosy bed 
 
 Which a bee would choose to dream in. 
 Then fill to-night with hearts as light 
 
 To loves as gay and fleeting 
 As bubbles that swim on the beaker s 
 
 brim, 
 
 Aud break on the lips while meet 
 ing. 
 
 0! if Mirth might arrest the flight 
 
 Of Time through Life s^dominions, 
 We here awhile would now beguile 
 The graybeard of his pinions, 
 
 To drink to-night with hearts as light, 
 
 To loves as gay and fleeting 
 As bubbles that swim on the beaker i 
 
 brim, 
 And break on the lips while meeting. 
 
 But since delight can t tempt the wight, 
 
 Nor fond regret delay him, 
 Nor Love himself can hold the elf, 
 Nor sober Friendship stay him, 
 
 We ll drink to-night with hearts na 
 
 light, 
 
 To loves as gay and fleeting 
 As bubbles that swim on the beaker i 
 
 brim, 
 And break on the lips while meeting. 
 
 SONG 
 
 OF THE THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND DRUNK 
 ARDS IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 REV. WM. B. TAPPAN. 
 
 Born at Beverly, Mass, in 1794 For twenty- 
 seven years was in the service of the Amer 
 ican Sunday School Union Died in 1849. 
 
 We come! we come! with sad array, 
 
 And in procession long, 
 To join the army of the lost 
 
 Three hundred thousand strong. 
 
 Our banners, beckoning on to death, 
 
 Abroad we have unrolled; 
 And Famine, Care, and wan Despair, 
 
 Are seen on every fold. 
 
 Ye heard what music cheers us on 
 
 The mother s cry, that rang 
 So wildly, and the babe s that wailed 
 
 Above the trumpet s clang. 
 
 We ve taken spoil; and blighted joys 
 
 And ruined homes are here; 
 We ve trampled on the throbbing heart, 
 
 And flouted sorrow s tear. 
 
 We come! we come! we ve searched tht 
 land, 
 
 The rich and poor are ours 
 Enlisted from the shrines of God, 
 
 From hovels and froti towers. 
 
 And who or what shall balk the brave, 
 Who swear to drink and die s 
 
 What hoots to such man s muttered curst^ 
 Or His that spans the skyl 
 
 Our leader! who of all the chiefs, 
 Who ve triumphed from the first, 
 
 Can blazon deeds like his 1 ? such griefs, 
 Such wounds, such trophies curst. 
 
u58 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 We come ! Of tlie world s scourges, who 
 
 Like him have overthrown^ 
 What wo had ever earth, like wo 
 
 To his stern prowess kjiownS 
 
 Onward ! though ever on our inarch 
 Hang Misery s countless train; 
 
 Onward for hell from rank to rank 
 Pass we the cup again ! 
 
 We come! we come! to fill our graves, 
 
 On which shall shine no star; 
 To glut the worm that never dies 
 
 Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! 
 
 A WHALING SONG. 
 
 JOHN OSBORN. 
 
 Corn on Cape Cod Bay, Mass., in 1713 Edu 
 cated at Harvard Died in 1753 This song 
 is widely popular with whalemen. 
 
 When spring returns with western gales, 
 
 And gentle breezes sweep 
 The ruffling seas, we spread our sails 
 
 To plow the watery deep. 
 
 For killing northern whales prepared, 
 
 Our nimble boats on board, 
 With craft and rum (our chief regard) 
 
 And good provisions stored, 
 
 Cape Cod, our dearest native land, 
 
 We leave astern, and lose 
 Its sinking cliffs and less ning sands, 
 
 While Zephyr gently blows. 
 
 Bold, hardy men, with blooming age, 
 
 Our sandy shores produce; 
 V/ith monstrous fish they dare engage, 
 
 And dangerous callings choose. 
 
 Now toward the early dawning east 
 
 We speed our course away, 
 With eager minds, and joyful hearts, 
 
 To meet the rising day! 
 
 Then, as we turn our wondering eyes 
 
 We view one constant show; 
 Above, around, the circling skies, 
 
 The rolling seas below. 
 
 When eastward, clear of Newfoundland, 
 
 We stem the frozen pole, 
 We see the icy islands stand, 
 
 The northern billows roll. 
 
 As to the north we make our way, 
 
 Surprising scenes we find; 
 We lengthen out the tedious day, 
 
 And leave the night behind. 
 
 Now see the northern regions, where 
 
 Eternal winter reigns ; 
 One day and night fills up the yeai, 
 
 Ajid endless cold maintains. 
 
 We view the monsters of the deep, 
 Great whales in numerous swarms; 
 
 And creatures there, that piny and leap, 
 Of strange, unusual forms. 
 
 When in our station we are placed, 
 
 And whales around us play, 
 We launch our boats into the main, 
 
 And swiftly chase our prey. 
 
 In haste we ply our nimble oars, 
 
 For an assault design d, 
 The sea beneath us foams and roars, 
 
 And leaves a wake behind. 
 
 A mighty whale we rush upon, 
 
 And in our irons throw; 
 She sinks her monstrous body down 
 
 Among the waves below. 
 
 And when she rises out again. 
 
 We soon renew the fight; 
 Thrust our sharp lances in amain, 
 
 And all her rage excite. 
 
 Enraged, she makes a mighty bound; 
 
 Thick foams the whiteu d sea; 
 The waves in circles rise arouud, 
 
 And widening roll away. 
 
 She thrashes with her tail around, 
 And blows her redd ning breath; 
 
 She breaks the air, a deaf niug sound, 
 While ocean groans beneath. 
 
 From numerous wounds, with crimsoa 
 flood, 
 
 She stains the frothy seas, 
 And gasps, and blows her latest blood, 
 
 While quivering life decays. 
 
 With joyful hearts we see her die, 
 
 And on the surface lay; 
 While all with eager haste apply, 
 
 To save our deathful prey. 
 
 THE WIFE. 
 
 ANNA PEYRE DINNIES. 
 
 Born in Georgetown, S. C. In 184.3, pub 
 lished a volume of poetry, entitled "The 
 Floral Year." 
 
 " She flung her white arms around him- 
 
 Thou art all 
 That this poor heart can cling to." 
 
 I could have stemm d misfortune s tide, 
 
 And borne the rich one s sneer, 
 Have braved the haughty glance of pride, 
 
 Nor shed a single tear. 
 I could have smiled on every blow 
 
 From Life s full quiver thrown, 
 While I might *aze on thee, and know 
 
 I should not be c: alone." 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 659 
 
 I could I think I could have brook d 
 
 E eu for a time, that thou 
 Upon my fading face hadst look d 
 
 With less of love thau now; 
 For then, I should at least have felt 
 
 The sweet hope still my own, 
 To win thee back, aud, whilst I dwelt 
 
 On eavth, not been "alone." 
 
 But thus to see, from day to day, 
 
 Thy brightening eye and cheek, 
 And watch thy life-sands waste away 
 
 Uunnniber d, slowly, meek; 
 To meet thy smiles of tenderness, 
 
 And catch the feeble tone 
 Of kindness, ever breathed to bless, 
 
 And feel, I 11 be " alone !" 
 
 To mark thy strength each hour decay, 
 
 And yet thy hopes grow stronger, 
 As, fill d with heavenward trust, they say, 
 
 "Earth may not claim thee longer;" 
 Nay, dearest, t is too much this heart 
 
 Must break when thou art gone: 
 It must not be; we may not part; 
 
 I could not live "alone !" 
 
 THE WANTS OF MAN. 
 
 JOHN QUIXCY ADAMS. 
 
 Born in 1767 President of the United States 
 from 1825 to 1829 Died in 1848. 
 
 Man wants but little here below, 
 Nor wants that little long. 
 
 Cfuldsmith, 
 
 "Man wants but little here below, 
 
 Nor wants that little long." 
 Tis not with me exactly so, 
 
 But tis so in the song. 
 My wants are many, and if told 
 
 Would muster many a score; 
 Aud "Were each wish a mint of gold, 
 
 I still should long for more. 
 
 What first I want is daily bread, 
 
 Aud canvas-backs and wine; 
 And all the realms of nature spread 
 
 Before me wher I dine ; 
 V7ith four choice cooks from France, beside. 
 
 To dress my dinner well; 
 Four courses scarcely can provide 
 
 My appetite to quell. 
 
 What next I want, at heavy cost, 
 
 Is elegant attire: 
 Black sable furs for winter s frost, 
 
 And silks for summer s fire; 
 Aud Cashmere shawls, aud Brussels lace, 
 
 My bosom s front to deck, 
 And diamond rings my hands to grace, 
 
 And rubies for my neck. 
 42 
 
 And then I want a mansion fair, 
 
 A dwelling-house, in style, 
 Four stories high, for wholesome air 
 
 A massive marble pile; 
 With halls for banquctings aud balls, 
 
 All furnished rich aud fine; 
 With high blood studs in fifty stalls, 
 
 And cellars for my wine. 
 
 I want a garden and a park, 
 
 My dwelling to surround 
 A thousand acres (bless the mark!; 
 
 With walls encompassed round 
 Where flocks may range and herds may lo 
 
 And kids and lambkins play, 
 And flowers and fruits commingled grow, 
 
 All Edeu to display. 
 
 I want, when summer s foliage falls, 
 
 Aud autumn strips the trees, 
 A house within the city s walls, 
 
 For comfort and for ease; 
 But here, as space is somewhat scant, 
 
 And acres somewhat rare, 
 My house in towu I -only want 
 
 To occupy a square. 
 
 I want a steward, butler, cook.*; 
 
 A coachman, footman, grooms; 
 A library of well-bound books, 
 
 And picture-garnished rooms; 
 CORREGIO S Magdalen, and Night, 
 
 The Matron of the Chair; 
 GUIDO S fleet Coursers, in their flight, 
 
 And CLAUDES at least a pair 
 
 I want a cabinet profuse 
 
 Of medals, coins, and gems; 
 A printing-press, for private use, 
 
 Of fifty thousand EMS; 
 And* plants, and minerals, and shells; 
 
 Worms, insects, fishes, birds; 
 Aud every beast on earth that dwells, f 
 
 In solitude or herds. 
 
 I want a board of burnished plate, 
 
 Of silver and of gold; 
 Tureens, of twenty pounds in weight, 
 
 And sculpture s richest mould; 
 Plateaus, with chandeliers and lamps, 
 
 Plates, dishes all the same; 
 And porcelain vases, with the stamps 
 
 And maples, of fair glossy stain, 
 
 Must form ray chamber doors, 
 And carpets of the Wilton grain 
 
 Must cover all my floors; 
 My walls with tapestry bedeck d, 
 
 Must never be outdone; 
 And damask curtains must protect 
 
 Their colors from the sun. 
 
 And mirrors of the largest pane 
 From Venice must be brought; 
 
 And sandal-wood and bamboa-.caiic, 
 For chairs and tables bought; 
 
660 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 On all the mantel-pieces, clocks 
 Of thrice-gilt bronze must stand, 
 
 And screens of ebony and box 
 Invite the stranger s hand. 
 
 I want (who does not want*;) a wife, 
 
 Affectionate and fair, 
 To solace all the woes of life, 
 
 And all its joys to share; 
 Of temper sweet, of yielding will, 
 
 Of firm, yet placid mind, 
 With all my faults to love me still, 
 
 With sentiment refined. 
 
 And as Time s car incessant runs, 
 
 And Fortune fills my store, 
 I want of daughters and of sous 
 
 From eight to half a score. 
 I want (alas ! can mortal dare 
 
 Such bliss on earth to craved ) 
 That all the girls be chaste and fair 
 
 The boys all wise and brave. 
 
 And when my bosom s darling sings, 
 
 With melody divine, 
 A pedal harp with many strings 
 
 Must with her voice combiue. 
 A piano, exquisitely wrought, 
 
 Must open stand, apart, 
 That all my daughters may be taught 
 
 To win the stranger s heart. 
 
 My wife and daughters will desire 
 
 Refreshment from perfumes, 
 Cosmetics for the skin require, 
 
 And artificial blooms. 
 The civet fragrance shall dispense, 
 
 And treasured sweets return; 
 Cologne revive the flagging sense, 
 
 And smoking amber burn. 
 
 And when at night my weary head 
 
 , Begins to droop and dose, 
 A chamber south, to hold my bed, 
 
 For nature s soft repose; 
 With blankets, counterpanes, and sheet, 
 
 Mattress, and sack of down, 
 And comfortables for my feet, 
 
 And pillows for my crown. 
 
 I Avant a warm and faithful friend, 
 
 To cheer the adverse hour, 
 Who ne er to flatter will descend, 
 
 Nor bend the knee to power; 
 A friend to chide me when I m wrong. 
 
 My inmost soul to see; 
 And that my friendship prove as strung 
 
 For him, as his for me. 
 
 I want a kind and tender heart, 
 
 For others wants to feel; 
 A soul secure from Fortune s dart, 
 
 And bosom arm d with steel; 
 TJ bear divine chastisement s rod, 
 
 And, mingling in my plan, 
 
 Submission to the will of God, 
 With charity to man. 
 
 I want a keen, observing eye, 
 
 An ever-listening ear, 
 The truth through all disguise tc spy, 
 
 And wisdom s voice to hear; 
 A tongue to spenk at virtue s need, 
 
 In Heaven s sublimest strain; 
 And lips the cause of man to plead, 
 
 And never plead in vain. 
 
 I want uninterrupted health, 
 
 Throughout my long career, 
 And streams of never-failing wealth, 
 
 To scatter far and near 
 The destitute to clothe and feed, 
 
 Free bounty to bestow. 
 Supply the helpless orphan s need, 
 
 And soothe the widow s wo. 
 
 I want the genius to conceive, 
 
 The talents to unf->ld, 
 Designs, the vicious to retrieve, 
 
 The virtuous to uphold ; 
 Inventive power, combining skill, 
 
 A persevering soul, 
 Of human hearts to mould the will, 
 
 And reach from pole to pole. 
 
 I want the seals of power and place, 
 
 The ensigns of command, 
 Charged by the people s nnbought gracct 
 
 To rule my native land ; 
 Nor crown, nor scepter would I ask, 
 
 But from my country s will, 
 By day, by night, to ply the task 
 
 Her cup of bliss to fill. 
 
 I want the voice of honest praise 
 
 To follow me behind, 
 And to be thought, in future days, 
 
 The friend of humankind; 
 That after ages, as they rise, 
 
 Exulting may proclaim, 
 In choral union to the skies, 
 
 Their blessings on my name. 
 
 These are the wants of mortal man; 
 
 I cannot need them long, 
 For life itself is but a span, 
 
 And earthly bliss a song. 
 My last great want, absorbing all, 
 
 Is, when beneath the sod, 
 And summon d to my final call 
 
 The mercy of my God. 
 
 And oh.! while circles in my veins 
 
 Of life the purple stream, 
 And yet a fragment small remains 
 j Of* nature s transient dream, 
 Mv soul, in humble hope uuscaw^ 
 
 Forget not thou to pray, 
 That this THY WANT may be prepared 
 
 To meet the Judgrncut-Day. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 661 
 
 BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN. 
 
 W. C. BRYANT. 
 
 O, deem not they fire blest alone 
 Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep; 
 
 The Power who pities man, has shown 
 A blessing for the eyes that weep. 
 
 The light of smiles c-hall fill again 
 The^lids that overflow with tears; 
 
 And weary hours of wo and pain. 
 Are promises of happier years. 
 
 There is a day of sunny rest 
 
 Far every dark and troubled night; 
 
 And grief may hide an evening guest, 
 But joy shall come with early light. 
 
 And thou, who, o er thy friend s low r bier, 
 Sheddest the bitter drops like rain, 
 
 Hope that a brighter, happier sphere 
 Will give him to thy arms again. 
 
 Nor let the good man s trust depart, 
 Though life its common gifts deny 
 
 Though with a pierced and bleeding heart, 
 And spurned of men, he goes to die. 
 
 For God hath marked each sorrowing day, 
 And numbered every secret tear, 
 
 And heaven s long age of bliss shall pay 
 For all his children suffer here. 
 
 THE DAY IS DONE. 
 
 H. W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 The day is done, and the darkness 
 Falls from the wings of Night, 
 
 As a feather is wafted downward 
 From an eagle in his flight. 
 
 I see the lights of the village 
 
 Gleam through the rain and the mist, 
 And a feeling of sadness comes o er me, 
 
 That my soul cannot resist: 
 
 A feeling of sadness and longing, 
 
 That is not akin to pain, 
 And resembles sorrow only 
 
 As the mist resembles the rain. 
 
 Come, read to me some poem, 
 Some simple and heart-felt lay, 
 
 That shall soothe this restless feeling, 
 And banish the thoughts of day. 
 
 Not from the grand old masters, 
 Not from the bards sublime, 
 
 Whose distant footsteps echo 
 Through the corridors of Time. 
 
 For, like strains of martial music, 
 Their mighty thoughts suggest 
 
 Life s endless toil and endeavor; 
 And to-night I long for rest. 
 
 Read from some humbler poet, 
 
 Whose songs gushed from his heart, 
 
 As show rs from the clouds of summer, 
 Or tears from the eye- lids start; 
 
 Who, through long days of labor, 
 
 And nights devoid of ease, 
 Still heard in his soul the music 
 
 Of wonderful melodies. 
 
 Such songs have power to quiet 
 
 The restless pulse of care, 
 And corne like the benediction 
 
 That follows after prayer. 
 
 Then read from the trcasur d volume 
 
 The poem of thy choice, 
 And lend to the rhyme of the poet 
 
 The beauty of thy voice. 
 
 And the night shall befill d with music, 
 And the cares that infest the day 
 
 Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
 And as silently steal away. 
 
 THE CHOICE. 
 
 MRS. SUSANNA ROWSON. 
 
 An actress, authoress^ and for twenty-firo 
 years a teaclier. She wrote the noted 
 novel, " Charlotte Temple." She died in 
 Boston in 1825. 
 
 I ask no more than just to be 
 From vice and folly wholly free; 
 To have a competent estate, 
 Neither too small, nor yet too great; 
 Something of rent and taxes clear, 
 About five hundred pounds a year. 
 My house, though small, should be com 
 plete, 
 
 Furnished, not elegant, but neat; 
 One little room should sacred be 
 To study, solitude, and me. 
 The windows, jessamine should shade, 
 Nor should a sound the ears invade, 
 Except the warblings from the grove, 
 Or plaintive murm riugs from a^dove. 
 Here would I often pass the day, 
 Turn o er the page, or tune the lay, 
 And court the aid and sacred fire 
 Of the Parnassian tuneful choir. 
 While calmly thus my time I d spend, 
 Grant me, kind Heavon. a faithful friend 
 In each emotion of my heart, 
 Of grief or joy, to bear a part; 
 Possess d of learning, and u ood sense, 
 Free from pedantic insolence. 
 Pleas d with retirement, let him be, 
 Yet cheerful midst society; 
 Know how to tiifle with a grace, 
 Yet grave in proper time and place. 
 
 Let frugal plenty deck my board, 
 So that its surplus may afford 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Assistance to the neighb riug poor, 
 And send them thankful from the door. 
 A few associates" I d select, 
 Worthy esteem and high respect; 
 And social mirth I would invite, 
 With sportive dance on tiptoT light; 
 Nor should s\veet music s voice be mute, 
 The vocal strain, or plaintive lute; 
 But all, and each, in turn agree, 
 T afford life sweet variety; 
 To keep serene the cheerful breast, 
 And give to solitude a zest. 
 
 And often be it our employ, 
 
 For there is not a purer joy, 
 
 To wipe the languid grief-swoln eye, 
 
 To soothe the pensive mourner s sigh, 
 
 To cairn their fears, allay their grief, 
 
 And give, if possible, relief. 
 
 But if this fate, directing Heaven 
 Thinks too indulgent to be given, 
 Let health and innocence be mine, 
 And I will strive not to repine; 
 Will thankful take each blessing lent, 
 Be humble, patient, and content. 
 
 WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. 
 
 GEORGE P. MORRIS. 
 
 Born at Philadelphia in 1801 Co-editor of 
 the Home Journal "After I had sung the 
 noble ballad of Woodman, Spare that 
 Tree, at Boulogne, says Mr. Henry Rus 
 sell, the vocalist, "an old gentleman among 
 the audience, who was greatly moved by 
 the simple and touching beauty of the 
 words, rose and said, I beg your pardon, 
 Mr.Russell, but was the tree really spared? 
 4 It was, said I. I am very glad to hear 
 it, said he, as he took his seat amidst the 
 unanimous applause of the whole assem 
 bly. 1 never saw such excitement in a 
 concert room." 
 
 Woodman, spare that tree ! 
 
 Touch not a single bough ! 
 In youth it shelter d me, 
 
 And I ll protect it now. 
 T was my forefather s hand 
 
 That placed it near his cot; 
 There, woodman, let it stand, 
 
 Thy ax shall harm it not ! 
 
 That old familiar tree, 
 
 Whose glory and renown 
 Are spread o er land and sea, 
 
 And wouldst thou hew it down 1 ! 
 Woodman, forbear thy stroke! 
 
 Cut not its earth-bound ties; 
 spare that aged oak, 
 
 Now towering to the skies ! 
 
 When but an idle boy 
 
 I sought its grateful shade ; 
 
 In all their gushing joy 
 Here too my sisters play d. 
 
 My mother kiss d me here; 
 
 My father pressed my hand 
 Porgive this foolish tear, 
 
 But let that old oak stand 1 
 
 My heart-strings round thee cling, 
 
 Close as thy bark, old friend ! 
 Here shall the wild-bird sing, 
 
 And still thy branches beiid. 
 Old tree ! the storm still brave i 
 
 And, woodman, leave the spot; 
 While I ve a hand. to save, * 
 
 Thy ax shall harm it not ! 
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 
 
 SEBA SMITH. 
 
 Born in Portland, Maine, in 1792 Author of 
 the original Major Jack Downing Letters. 
 
 The cold winds swept the mountain s height, 
 And pathless was the dreary wild, 
 
 And mid the cheerless hours of night 
 A mother wander d with her child. 
 
 As through the drifting snow she press d, 
 The babe was sleeping on her breast. 
 
 And colder still the winds did blow, 
 And darker hours of night came on, 
 
 And deeper grew the drifting snow: 
 
 Her limbs were chill d, her strength waa 
 gone: 
 
 "0 God !" she cried, in accents wild, 
 "If I must perish, save my child !" 
 
 She stripp d her mantle from her breast, 
 And bared her bosom to the storm, 
 
 And round the child she wrapp d the vest 
 And smiled to think her babe was warm. 
 
 With one cold kiss, one tear she shed, 
 And sunk upon her snowy bed. 
 
 At dawn a traveler passed by, 
 
 And saw her neath her snowy vail; 
 
 The frost of death was in her eye, 
 
 Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pale; 
 
 He moved the robe from off the child 
 
 The babe look d up and sweetly smiled 1 
 
 THE LJPE-VOYAGE A BALLAD. 
 
 MR3. FRANCES S. OSGOOD. 
 
 Born in Boston about the year 1812 Died 1n 
 1850. 
 
 Once in the olden time there dwelt 
 
 Beside the sounding sea, 
 A little maid her garb was coarse, 
 
 Her spirit pure and free. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 663 
 
 Her parents were an humble twain, 
 
 And poor as poor could be; 
 Yet gayly sang the guileless child, 
 
 Beside the sounding sea. 
 
 The Lnt was bare, and scant the fare, 
 
 And hard her little bed; 
 But she was rich! a single gem 
 
 Its beauty rouud her shed. 
 
 .Jht walk d in light ! twas all her wealth 
 That pearl, whose lustrous glow 
 
 Made her white forehead dazzling fair, 
 And pure as sunlit snow. 
 
 Her parents died ! With tears she cried, 
 
 " God will rny father be!" 
 Then launch d alone her shallop light, 
 
 And bravely put to sea. 
 
 The sail she set was virgin-white, 
 
 As inmost lily leaf, 
 And angels whisper d her from Heaven, 
 
 To loose it or to reef. 
 
 And ever on the dancing prow 
 One glorious brilliant buru d, 
 
 By whose clear ray she read her way, 
 And every danger learn d: 
 
 For she had hung her treasure there, 
 Her Heaven-illumined pearl ! 
 
 And so she steer d her lonely bark, 
 That fair and guileless girl ! 
 
 The wind was fresh, the sails were free, , 
 High dash d the diamond spray, 
 
 And merrily leaping o er the sea, 
 The light skiffleft the bay ! 
 
 But soon false, evil spirits came, 
 
 And strove with costly lure, 
 To bribe her maiden heart to shame, 
 
 And win her jewel pure. 
 
 They swarm d around the fragile boat, 
 They brought her diamonds rare, 
 
 To glisten on her graceful throat, 
 And bind her flowing hair ! 
 
 They brought her gold from Afric-laud, 
 And from the sea-king s throne 
 
 They pilfer d gems, to grace her hand 
 And clasp her virgin zone. 
 
 But still she shook the silken curl 
 Back from her beaming eyes, 
 
 And cried " I bear my spotless pearl 
 Home, home to yonder skies ! 
 
 " Now, shame ye not, your ocean gems 
 
 And eastern gold to show*? 
 Behold ! how mine outburns them all ! 
 
 God s smile is in its glow !" 
 
 Fair blows the wind, the sail swells free, 
 High shoots the diamond spray, 
 
 And merrily o er the murmuring sea 
 r j"Ko lio-iif- boat leans away ! 
 
 They swarm d around the fragile bark, 
 
 * They strove with costlier lure 
 To bribe her maiden heart to shame, 
 And win her jewel pure. 
 
 " We bringthee rank we bring thee pow r ; 
 
 We bring thee pleasures free 
 No empress, in her silk-hung bower, 
 
 May queen her realm like thee ! 
 
 "Now yield us np the one white pearl ! 
 
 Tis but a star, whose ray 
 Will fail thee, rash, devoted girl. 
 
 When tempests cloud thy way." 
 
 But still she smiled a loftier smile, 
 And raised her frank, bright eyes, 
 
 And cried " I bear my vestal star 
 Home, home to yonder skies !" 
 
 The wind is fresh the sail swells free 
 High shoots the diamond spray ! 
 
 And merrily o er the moaning sea 
 The light boat leaps away ! 
 
 Suddenly, stillness broods around, 
 
 A stillness as of death, 
 Above, below no motion, sound, 
 
 Hardly a struggling breath ! 
 
 Then wild and fierce the tempest came, 
 The dark wind -demons clash d 
 
 Their weapons swift the air was flame ! 
 The waves iu madness dash d ! 
 
 They swarm d around the tossing boat 
 
 " Wilt yield thy jewel now? 
 Look ! look ! already drenched in spray, 
 
 It trembles at the prow. 
 
 " Be ours the gem ! and safely lauuch d 
 
 Upon a summer s sea, 
 Where never cloud may frown in heaven, 
 
 Thy pinnace light shall be !" 
 
 But still she smiled a fearless smile, 
 And raised her trusting eyes, 
 
 And cried " I bear my talisman 
 Home., home to youder skies !" 
 
 And safe through all that blinding storm 
 
 The true bark floated on, 
 And soft its pearl-illumined prow 
 
 Through all the tumult shone ! 
 
 An angel, guided through the clouds 
 
 By that most precious light, 
 Flew down the fairy helm to take, 
 
 To steer the boat aright. 
 
 Then died the storm upon the sea ! 
 
 High dash d the diamond spray, 
 And merrily leaping light and free, 
 
 The shallop sail d away. 
 
 And meekly, when at eve her bark 
 
 Its destined port had found, 
 She moor d it by the mellow spark 
 
 Her iewel shed around 
 
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 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Wouldst know the name the maiden wore 
 T was Innocence like thine ! 
 
 Wouldst know the pearl she nobly boreS 
 T was Truth a gem divine 1 
 
 Thou hast the jewel keep it bright, 
 Uudimm d by mortal fear, 
 
 And bathe each stain upon its light 
 "With Grief s repentant tear! 
 
 Still shrink from falsehood s fairest guise, 
 
 By flattery unbeguiled ! 
 Still le*t thy heart speak from thine eyes, 
 
 My pure and simple child ! 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF JOSEPH ROD 
 MAN DRAKE. 
 
 FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. 
 
 The good die first, [dust, 
 
 And they whoso hearts are dry as summer 
 Burn to the socket. Wordsworth. 
 
 Green be the turf above thee, 
 
 Friend of my better days ! 
 None knew thee but to love thee, 
 
 None named thee but to praise. 
 
 Tears fell when thou wert dying, 
 From eyes unused to weep, 
 
 And long where thou art lying, 
 Will tears the cold turf steep. 
 
 When hearts, whose truth was proven, 
 Like thine, are laid in earth, 
 
 There should a wreath be woven, 
 To tell the world their worth. 
 
 And I, who woke each morrow 
 To clasp thy hand in mine, 
 
 Who shared thy joy and sorrow, 
 Whose weal and wo were thine; 
 
 It should be mine to braid it 
 
 Around thy faded brow, 
 But 1 ve in vain essayed it, 
 
 And feel I cannot now. 
 
 "While memory bids me weep thee, 
 Nor thoughts nor words are free, 
 
 The grief is fixed too deeply 
 That mourns a man like thee. 
 
 OLD SONGS. 
 
 "WILLIS OAYLORI) CLARK. 
 
 Born in Otisco, N. Y.. in 1810 Died in 1841. 
 
 Give me the songs I loved to hear, 
 In sweet and sunny days of yore; 
 
 Which came in gushes to my ear 
 
 From lips that breathe them now no more; 
 
 From lips, alas ! on which the worm, 
 
 In coiled and dusty silence lies, 
 Where many a loved, lamented form 
 
 Is hid from Sorrow s filling eyes ! 
 
 Yes ! when those uuforgotten lays 
 
 Come trembling Avith a spirit-voice, 
 I mind me of those early days, 
 
 Wheu to respire was to rejoice; 
 When gladsome flowers and fruitage shone 
 
 Where er my willing footsteps fell; 
 Wheu Hope s bright realm was all mine own. 
 
 And Fancy Whispered, "All is well." 
 
 Give me old songs ! They stir my heart 
 
 As with some glorious trumpet-tone: 
 Beyond the reach of modern art, 
 
 They rule its thrilling cords alone, 
 Till, on the wings of thought I fly 
 
 Back to that boundary of bliss, 
 Which once beneath my childhood s sky 
 
 Embraced a scene of loveliness ! 
 
 Thus, when the portals of mine ear 
 
 Those long-remembered lays receive, 
 They seem like guests, whose voices cheer 
 
 My breast, and bid it not to grieve: 
 They ring in cadences of love, 
 
 They tell of dreams now vanished all; 
 Dreams, that descended from above 
 
 Visions, t is rapture to recall ! 
 
 Give me old songs ! I know not why, 
 
 But every tone they breathe to me 
 Is fraught with pleasures pure and high, 
 
 With honest love or honest glee: 
 They move me, when by chance I hear, 
 
 They rouse each slumbering pulse anew; 
 Till every scene to memory dear 
 
 Is pictured brightly to my view. 
 
 I do not ask those sickly lays 
 
 O er which affected maidens bend; 
 Which scented fops are boxind to praise, 
 
 To which dull crowds their homage lend: 
 Give me some simple Scottish song, 
 
 Or lays from Erin s distant isle; 
 Lays that to love and truth belong, 
 
 And cause the saddest lip to smile ! 
 
 A MARRIAGE SONG. 
 
 JAMES W. WARP. 
 
 Born in Newark, N. J., in 1819 Educated 
 in Boston Resident of Cincinnati, 0. 
 
 
 
 Little Dora was sweet, little Dora was pure, 
 And never a heart, than hers, was truer: 
 There was of guile not a trace about her, 
 And the thoughts within, and the life w : ih 
 
 out her, 
 
 Were bright and beautiful day by day, 
 Thinking only such things as a maiden ma 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 665 
 
 Little Dora, who read her Bible nightly, 
 With a living faith, not idly or lightly, 
 Reading, one night, its sac-red pages, 
 She found, as over its words she pored. 
 This thought, from one of the Hebrew sages 
 She slept on his bosom, and eat at his board. 
 
 "Now what, my dear mother," at length she 
 
 said. 
 
 Smoothing the curls on her raven head 
 "What meaneth the text*: I have tried in vain 
 To make the sense of the fable plain." 
 Lady Eleanor took her daughter s hand, 
 And said in accents kind and bland 
 When a maiden, my Dora, by love invited, 
 Pier heart to her lover has firmly plighted, 
 It meaneth that she will sometimes be, 
 By the sanction of law, and her heart s ac 
 cord, 
 
 His trustful wife; and it follows, that she 
 Must sleep 01.1 his bosom, and eat at his board." 
 
 Little Dora dreamed, little Dora mused, 
 But her dreams were vague and her thoughts 
 
 confused ; 
 
 She felt it must be as her mother had said, 
 And there came a sweet vision into her head; 
 And she said to herself; as in silence she gazed 
 On the starry lights, that cloudless bla/ed 
 In the midnight sky If Carlos, I think, 
 Should again, with me, watch the young moon 
 
 sink 
 
 Behind yon hill, and should spf,ak again 
 Those words, still deep in my memory stored, 
 My heart would be strong, aud I d promise 
 
 him then, 
 To sleep on his bosom, and eat at his board. 
 
 And Carlos came, when the moon again 
 With beauty filled the shadowy glen; 
 And the maiden stood by his side, and heard 
 Those words, once more, that her heart had 
 
 stirred; 
 
 And her soul s response her lips obeyed, 
 And the two were one, as they homeward 
 
 strayed. 
 Came the witnesses then, and they made their 
 
 vow 
 
 To the man of God, with fond accord; 
 And he called them man and wife; and now 
 She sleeps on his bosom, and eats at his board. 
 
 THE YANKEE S RETURN FROM CAMP 
 
 Tune YANKEE DOODLE. 
 
 These are the most familiar verses to the 
 above tune. Yankee Doodle first appeared 
 in England in the time of Charles II, as is 
 shown by a verse of that period: 
 
 Yankee Doodle came to town, 
 
 Upon a Kentish pony; 
 He stuck a feather in his hat 
 
 And called him Macaroni. 
 
 A song is in use among the laborers in Hoi- 
 land, in harvest-time, which thus runs: 
 
 Yanker didel, doodel down, 
 
 Didel, (lu del lanter, 
 Yanke viver, vooyer vown, 
 
 Botermilk and Tanther. 
 
 From this it would seem that, perhapg, 
 Yankee Doodle was by birth a Dutchman ! 
 Be this as it may, he is now so fairly " natu 
 ralised," that no " American " will dispute 
 his " papers." 
 
 Father and I went down to camp, 
 Along with Captain Gooding, 
 
 And there we see the men and boys, 
 As thick as hasty pudding. 
 
 Chorus Yankee Doodle, keep it up, 
 
 Yankee Doodle, dandy, 
 Mind the music and the step, 
 And with the girls be handy. 
 
 And there we sec a thousand men, 
 
 As rich as Squire David; 
 And what they wasted every day, 
 
 I wish it could be saved. 
 
 The lasses they cat every day, 
 Would keep an house a winter; 
 
 They have so much that, I ll be bound, 
 They eat it when they re a mind to. 
 
 And there we see a swamping gun, 
 
 Large as a log of maple, 
 Upon a deuced little cart, 
 
 A load for father s cattle. 
 
 And every time they shoot it off, 
 
 It takes a horn of powder, 
 Aud makes a noise like father s gun, 
 
 Only a nation louder. 
 
 I went as nigh to one myself, 
 
 As Siah s underpinning, 
 And father went as nigh asain, 
 
 I thought the deuce was in him. 
 
 Cousin Simon grew so bold, 
 
 I thought he would have cock d it; 
 
 It scar d me so, I shrink d it off, 
 And hung by father s pocket. 
 
 And Captain Davis had a gnu, 
 He kind of clapt his hand on t, 
 
 And stuck a crooked stabbing iron 
 Upon the little end ou t. 
 
 And there I see a pumpkin shell 
 
 As big as mother s bason; 
 And every time they touch d it off, 
 
 They scamper d like the nation. 
 
 I see a little barrel too, 
 
 The heads were made of leather, 
 They knock d upoirt with little clubs, 
 
 And call d the folks together. 
 
666 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 There \vas Captain "Washington, 
 
 Upon a, slapping stallion, 
 A giving orders to his men 
 
 I guess there was a million. 
 
 And then the feathers on his hat, 
 They look d so tarual lina, 
 
 I wanted poekily to get 
 To give to my Jemima. 
 
 And there they d fife away like fun, 
 And play on cornstalk fiddles, 
 
 And some had ribbons red tis Mood, 
 All wound about their middles. 
 
 The troopers, too, would gallop up, 
 And fire right in our faces; 
 
 It scar d me almost half to death, 
 To see them run such races. 
 
 Old Uncle Sam come there to change 
 Some pancakes and some onions, 
 
 For lasses- cakes, to carry home 
 To give his wife and young ones. 
 
 But I can t tell you half I see, 
 They kept up such a smother; 
 
 So I took my hat off, made a bow, 
 And scainpcr d home to mother. 
 
 LITTLE MARY S GOOD-MORNING. 
 
 These verses, it is said, were written by a 
 lady of Northern Ohio. The touching 
 beauty of sentiment, so full of the cheer 
 fulness, confiding affection, innocence and 
 simplicity of childhood, commends them 
 to the heart of every parent. 
 
 "0 ! I am so happy!" the little girl said, 
 And she sprang like a lark from the low trun 
 dle bed; 
 
 " Tis morning, bright morning! Good-morn 
 ing, papa ! 
 
 0! give me one kiss for good-morning, mama! 
 Only just look at my pretty canary, 
 Chirping his s\veet Good-morning* to Mary. 
 The sunshine is peeping straight into mv eves! 
 Good-morning to you, Mr. Sun for you rise 
 Early, to wake np my birdie and me, 
 And make us as happy, as happy can be." 
 
 "Happy you may be, my dear little girl," 
 And the mother stroked softly a clustering 
 
 curl; 
 
 "Happy as can be but think of the One 
 Who wakened this morning, both you aiid 
 
 the sun." 
 The little one turned her bright eyes with a 
 
 nod: 
 
 "Mama, may I say, Good-morning to GodT 
 "Yes," little darling one, "surely you may; 
 Kneel, as you kneel every moraine to pray!" 
 
 Mary knelt solemnly down with her eyes 
 Looking np earnestly into the skies, 
 
 And two little hands that were folded to 
 gether, 
 
 Softly she laid on the lap of her mother 
 Good morning, dear Father in Heaven," she 
 
 said; 
 
 "I thank thee for watching my snug little bed ; 
 For taking good care of me all the dark night, 
 And waking me np with the beautiful light. 
 0! keep me from naughtiness all the long day, 
 Blest Jesus, who taught little children ixj 
 pray." 
 
 An angel looked down in the sunshine, and 
 
 smiled; 
 But she ?a\v not the angel that beautiful 
 
 child. 
 
 HAIL, COLUMBIA. 
 
 FRANCIS HOPKIXSON. 
 
 Born nt Philadelphia in 1770 Judge of Dis- 
 .trict Court of the U. S. Died in 1842 
 Hail, Columbia" was written in 1798, to 
 arouse a national feeling in view of an ex 
 pected war with France. 
 
 Hail. Columbia! happy land! 
 Hail, ye heroes, heaven-born band! 
 
 "Who fought and bled in Freedom s cause, 
 Uho fought and bled in Freedom s cause, 
 And when the storm of war was none, 
 Enjoy d the peace your valor woii ! 
 Let independence be our boast, 
 Ever mindful what it cost; 
 Ever grateful for the prize, 
 Let its altar reach, the skies. 
 Firm united let us be, 
 Rallying round our liberty: 
 As a band of brothers join d, 
 Peace and safety we shall find. 
 
 Immortal patriots ! rise once more; . 
 
 Defend your rights, defend your shore; 
 Let no rude foe, with impious hand, 
 Let no rude foe, with impious hand, 
 
 Invade the shiine where sacred lies 
 
 Of toil and blood the well-earned prize. 
 While offering peace sincere and just, 
 In heaven we place a manly trust, 
 That truth and justice will prevail, 
 And every scheme of bondage fail. 
 Firm united, etc. 
 
 Sound, sound the trump of Fame ! 
 
 Let WASHINGTON S great name 
 
 Ring thrmgh the world with loud applause, 
 Ring through the world with loud applause; 
 
 Let every clime to Freedom dear 
 
 Listen with a joyful ear. 
 
 With equal skill and godlike power, 
 He governs ia the fearful hour 
 Of horrid war; or guides with ease 
 The happier times of honest peace. 
 Firm united, etc. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 667 
 
 Bel old the chief who now commands, 
 Onco more to serve his country stands 
 The rock on which the storm will beat, 
 The rock on which the storm will beat; 
 But. armed in virtue, firm and true, 
 His hopes are fixed on Heaven and YOU. 
 When Hope was sinking in dismay, 
 And glooms obscured Columbia s day, 
 His steady mind, from changes free, 
 Resolved on death or liberty. 
 Firm united, etc. 
 
 THE BATTLE-FIELD. 
 
 W. C. BUY ANT. 
 
 Once this turf, this rivulet s sands, 
 Were trampled by a hurrying crowd, 
 
 4nd fiery hearts and armed hands 
 Encountered in the battle-cloud. 
 
 Ah! never shall the land forget 
 
 How gushed the life-blood of her brave 
 Gushed, warm with hope and courage yet, 
 
 Upon the soil they fought to save. 
 
 i\ow, all is calm, and fresh and still, 
 Alone the chirp of flitting bird, 
 
 And talk of children on the hill, 
 
 And bell of wandering kiue are^ieard. 
 
 No solemn host goes trailing by 
 
 The black -mouthed gun aud staggering 
 
 wain ; 
 Men start not at the battle-cry, 
 
 0, be it never heard again. 
 
 Soon rested those who fought; but thou 
 Who minglest in the harder strife 
 
 For truths which men receive not now, 
 Thy warfare only ends with life. 
 
 A friendless warfare ! lingering long 
 Through weary day and weary year. 
 
 A. wild and many-weapoued throng 
 Hang on thy front, and flank, and rear. 
 
 tet nerve thy spirit to the proof, 
 And blanch not at the chosen lot; 
 
 The timid good may stand aloof, 
 The sage may frown yet faint thou not. 
 
 Nor heed the shaft too surely cast, 
 The foul and hissing bolt of scorn; 
 
 For with thy side shall dwell at last, 
 The victory of endurance born. 
 
 Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again ; 
 
 The eternal years of God are heis; 
 Bnt Error, wouuded, writhes in pain, 
 
 And dies among his worshipers. 
 
 Yea. though thou lie upon the dust, 
 
 When they who helped thee flee in fear; 
 
 Die full of hope and manly trust, 
 Like those who fell in battle here. 
 
 Another hand thy sword shall wield, 
 Another hand the standard wave, 
 
 Till from the trumpet s mouth is pealed 
 The blast of triumph o er thy grave. 
 
 RESIGNATION. 
 
 H. \V. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 [here is no flock, however watched and 
 tended, 
 
 But one dead lamb is there ! 
 Dhere is no fireside, howsoe er defended, 
 
 But has one vacant chair ! 
 
 The air is full of farewells to the dying, 
 
 And mournings for the dead; 
 The heart of Rachel for her children crying 
 
 Will not be comforted ! 
 
 Let us be patient ! these severe afflictions 
 
 Not from the ground arise, 
 But oftentimes celestial benedictions 
 
 Assume this dark disguise. 
 
 We see but dimly thro the mis-t and vapors; 
 
 Amid these earthly damps 
 What seem to us but dim funereal tapers 
 
 May be Heaven s distant lamps. 
 
 There is no Death ! what seems so is transi 
 tion; 
 
 This life of Mortal breath- 
 Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 
 
 Whose portal we call Death. 
 
 She is not dead the child of our affection 
 
 But gone unto that school 
 Where she no longer needs our poor protec 
 tion, 
 
 And Christ himself doth rule. 
 
 In that great cloister s stillness aud seclu 
 sion 
 
 By guardian angels led, 
 Safe from temptation, safe from sin s pollu 
 tion, 
 She lives, whom we call dead. 
 
 Day after day we think whnt she is doing, 
 In those bright realms of air; 
 
 Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 
 Behold her grown more fair. 
 
 Thus do we walk with her, and keep UD 
 
 broken 
 
 The bond which nature gives, 
 Thinking that our remembrance, though UD 
 
 spoken, 
 May reach her where she lives. 
 
 Not as a child shall we again behold her; 
 
 For when with raptures wild 
 In our embraces we again enfold her, 
 
 She will not be a child; 
 
068 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 But a fair maiden, in her Father s mansion, 
 
 Clothed with celestial grace; 
 And beautiful with all the soul s expansion 
 
 Shall \ve behold her lace. 
 
 And though at times, impetuous with emo 
 tion 
 
 And anguish long suppressed. 
 The swelling heart heaves moaning like the 
 
 ocean 
 That cannot be at rest; 
 
 We will be patient ! and assuage the feeling 
 
 We cannot wholly stay; 
 By silence sanctifying, not concealing 
 
 The griei that must have way. 
 
 THE LAST LEAF. 
 
 O. \V. HOLMES. 
 
 Born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1807 
 Professor in the Medical Department of 
 Harvard University. 
 
 I saw him once before, 
 As he passed by the door, 
 
 And again 
 
 The pavement stones resound 
 As he totters o er the ground 
 
 With his cane. 
 
 They say that in his prime, 
 Ere the pruiiing-kuife of Time 
 
 Cut him down, 
 T\ T ot a better man was found 
 By the Crier on his round 
 
 Through the town. 
 
 But now he walks the streets, 
 And lie looks at all he meets, 
 
 Sad and wan, 
 
 And he shakes his feeble head, 
 That it seems as if he said, 
 
 " They are gone." 
 
 The mossy marbles rest 
 On the lips that he has prest 
 
 111 their bloom, 
 
 And the names he loved to hear 
 Have been carved for many a year 
 
 Oil the tomb. 
 
 My grandmamma has said 
 Poor old lady, she is dead 
 
 Long ago 
 
 That he had a Roman nose, 
 And his cheek was like a rose 
 
 In the snow. 
 
 But now his nose is thin, 
 And it rests upon his chin 
 
 Like a staff, 
 
 And a crook is in his back, 
 And a melancholy crack 
 
 Tn his laua;h. 
 
 I know it is a sin 
 For me to sit and grin 
 
 At him here; 
 
 But the old three-cornered hat, 
 And the breeches, and all that, 
 
 Are so queer ! 
 
 And if I should live to be 
 The last leaf upon the tree 
 
 In the spring 
 Let them smile, as I do now, 
 At the old forsaken bough 
 
 Where I cling. 
 
 OLD GRIMES. 
 
 ALBERT G. GREENE. 
 
 Born in Providence, R. I., in 1802 Educated 
 for the Bar. "Old Grimes " was written 
 in about his sixteenth year. 
 
 Old Grimes is dead; that good old man 
 We ne er shall see him more: 
 
 He used to wear a long black coat 
 All buttoned down before. 
 
 His heart was open as the day, 
 His feelings all were true; 
 
 His hair was some inclined to gray, 
 He wore it in a queue. 
 
 Whene r he heard the voice of pain, 
 His breast with pity burned; 
 
 The large round head upon his cane 
 From ivory was turned. 
 
 Kind words he ever had for all; 
 
 He knew no base design; 
 His eyes were dark and rather small, 
 
 His nose was aquiline. 
 
 He lived at peace with all mankind, 
 In friendship he was true; 
 
 His coat had pocket-holes behind, 
 His pantaloons were blue. 
 
 Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutes 
 
 He passed securely o er, 
 And never wore a pair of boots 
 
 For thirty years or more. 
 
 But good old Grimes is now at rest, 
 Nor fears misfortune s frown; 
 
 He wore a double-breasted vest; 
 The stripes ran up and down. 
 
 He modest merit sought to find, 
 
 And pay it its desert: 
 He had no malice in his mind, 
 
 No ruffles on his shirt. 
 
 His neighbors he did not abuse 
 
 Was sociable nud gay; 
 He wore large buckles on his shoe*, 
 
 And changed them even* day. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 669 
 
 His knowledge hid from public gaze, 
 
 He did not bring to view, 
 Nor make a noise, town-meeting days, 
 
 As many people do. 
 
 His worldly goods he never threw 
 In trust to fortune s chances, 
 
 But lived (as all his brothers do) 
 lu easy circumstances. 
 
 Thus undisturb d by anxious cares, 
 His peaceful moments ran; 
 
 And everybody said he was 
 A fine old gentleman. 
 
 PICTURES OF MEMORY. 
 
 MISS ALICE CAREY. 
 
 Born, in 1822, at Mt. Pleasant, near Cincin 
 nati. 0. 
 
 Among the beautiful pictures 
 
 That hang on Memory s wall, 
 Is one of a dim old forest, 
 
 That seemeth best of all; 
 Not for its gnarled oaks olden, 
 
 Dark with the mistletoe; 
 Not for the violets golden 
 
 That sprinkle the vale below; 
 Not for the milk-white lilies 
 
 That lean from the fragrant hedge, 
 Coquetting all day with the sunbeams, 
 
 And stealing their golden edge; 
 Not for the vines on the upland 
 
 Where the bright red-berries rest, 
 Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip, 
 
 It seemeth to me the best. 
 
 I once had a little brother, 
 
 \Vitheyes that were dark and deep 
 In the lap of that old dim/orest 
 
 He lieth in peace asleep: 
 Light as the down of the thistle, 
 
 Free as the winds that blow, 
 We roved there the beautiful summers, 
 
 The summers of long ago; 
 But his feet on the hills grew weary, 
 
 And, one of the autumn eves, 
 I made for my little brother 
 
 A bed of the yellow leaves. 
 
 Sweetly his pale arms folded 
 
 My neck in a meek embrace, 
 As the light of immortal beauty 
 
 Silently covered his face: 
 And when the arrows of sunset 
 
 Lodged in the tree-tops bright, 
 He fell, in his saint-like beauty, 
 
 Asleep by the gates of light . 
 Therefore, of all the pictures 
 
 That hang on Memory s wall, 
 The one of the dim old forest 
 
 Seemeth the best of all. 
 
 WHEN OTHER FRIENDS ARE ROUND 
 THEE. 
 
 G. P. MOKRIS. 
 
 When other friends are round thee, 
 
 And other hearts are thine, 
 When other bays have crowu d thee, 
 
 More fresh and green than mine, 
 Then think how sad and lonely 
 
 This doating heart will be, 
 Which, while it throbs, throbs only 
 
 Beloved one, for thee ! 
 
 Yet do not think I doubt thee, 
 
 I know thy truth remains; 
 I would not live without thee, 
 
 For all the world contains. 
 Thou art the star that guides me 
 
 Along life s changing sea; 
 And whate er fate betides me, 
 
 This heart still turns to thee. 
 
 THE LAPSE OF TIME. 
 
 W. C. BRYANT. 
 
 Lament who will, in fruitless tears, 
 
 The speed with which our moments fly; 
 
 I sigh not over vanished years, 
 
 But watch the years that hasten by. 
 
 Look, how they come a mingled crowd 
 Of bright and dark, but rapid days; 
 
 Beneath them, like a summer cloud, 
 The wide world changes as I gaxe. 
 
 What ! grieve that time has brought so sooa 
 The sober age of manhood on ! 
 
 As idly might I w r eep, at noon, 
 To see the blnsh of morning gone. 
 
 Could I give up the hopes that glow- 
 In prospect like Elysian isles; 
 
 And let the cheerful future go, 
 
 With all her promises and smiles "i 
 
 The future ! cruel were the power 
 
 Whose doom would tear thee from mj 
 heart, 
 
 Thou sweetener of the present hour ! 
 We cannot no we will not part. 
 
 0, leave me still the rapid flight 
 
 That makes the changing seasons gay, 
 
 The grateful speed that brings the night, 
 The swift and glad return of day; 
 
 The months that touch with aflded grace, 
 
 This little prattler at my knee, 
 In. whose arch eye and speaking face 
 
 New meaning every hour I see; 
 
 The years, that o er each sister land 
 Shall lift the country of my birth, 
 
 And nurse her strength, till she shall stand 
 The pride and pattern of the earth. 
 
670 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Till \cunger commonwealths, for aid, 
 Shall cling about her ample robe, 
 
 And from her frown shall shrink afriiid 
 The crowned oppressors of the globe. 
 
 True time will seam and blanch iny brow; 
 
 Well I shall sit with aged men, 
 And my good glass will tell me how 
 
 A grizzly beard becomes nie then. 
 
 And then, should no dishonor lie 
 Upon my head, when I um gray, 
 
 Lore yet shall watch my fading eye, 
 And smooth the path of my decay. 
 
 Then haste thce, Time tis kindness all 
 That speeds thy winged feet so fast; 
 
 Thy pleasures stay not till they pall, 
 And all thy pains are quickly past. 
 
 Thou fliest and bear st away our woes, 
 And as thy shadowy trains depart, 
 
 The memory of sorrow grows 
 A lighter burden on the heart. 
 
 THE CORAL GROVE. 
 
 JAMES GATES PERCIVAL. 
 
 Born in Berlin, Conn., in 1795 Graduate of 
 Yale Died in 1856, at which time he was 
 geologist for Wisconsin. He was one of 
 the most learned men of America. His 
 temperament was morbidly sensitive, with 
 a delicacy surpassing that of woman; and 
 so much of a recluse was he as not to pos 
 sess a single closely intimate friend. 
 
 Deep in the wave is a coral grove, 
 Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove; 
 Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of 
 
 blue, 
 
 That never are wet with falling dew, 
 But in bright and changeful beauty shine, 
 Far down in the green and glassy brine. 
 The floor is oi sand, like the mountain drift; 
 And the pearl -shells spangle the flinty snow; 
 From coral rocks the sea-plants lift 
 Their boughs, where the tides and billows 
 
 flow; 
 
 The water is calm and still below, 
 For the winds and waves are absent there, 
 And the sands are bright as the stars that 
 
 glow 
 
 In the motionless fields of upper air: 
 There, with its waving blade of green, 
 The sea-flag streams through the silent water, 
 And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen 
 To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter: 
 There, with a light and easy motion, 
 The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep i 
 
 sea; 
 
 And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean 
 Are bending like corn on the upland lea: 
 
 And life, in rare and beautiful forms, 
 Is sporting amid those bovvers of stone, 
 And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of 
 
 storms 
 
 Has made the top of the wave his own. 
 And when the ship from his fury flies, 
 Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, 
 When the wind-god frowns in the inurkf 
 
 skies, 
 
 And demons are waiting the wreck cii shoro 
 Then, far below, in the peaceful sea, 
 The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, 
 Where the waters murmur tranquilly, 
 Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. 
 
 A PSALM OP LIFE. 
 
 WHAT THK HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN 
 SAID TO THE PSALMIST. 
 
 H. W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Tell me not, ir, mournful numbers, 
 Life is but an empty dream ! 
 
 For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
 And things are not what they seem. 
 
 Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 
 
 And the grave is not its goal; 
 Dust thou art, to dust return est, 
 
 Was not spoken of the soul. 
 
 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
 Is our destined end or way; 
 
 But to act, that eah to-morrow 
 Find us farther than to-day. 
 
 Art is long, and Time is fleeting 
 And our hearts, though stout and brave* 
 
 Still, like muffled drums, are beating 
 Funeral marches to the grave. 
 
 In the world s broad field of battle, 
 
 In the bivouac of Life, 
 Be not like dumb, driven cattle 
 
 Be a hero in the strife ! 
 
 Trust no Future, howe er pleasant ; 
 
 Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 
 Act act in the living Present! 
 
 Heart within, and GOD o erhead ! 
 
 Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our hearts sublime, 
 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of time; 
 
 Footprints, that perhaps another, 
 Sailing o er life s solemn main, 
 
 A forlorn and ship-wreck d brother 
 Seeing, shall take heart again. 
 
 Let us, then, be up and doing, 
 
 With a heart for any fate; 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 
 Learn to labor and to wait. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 671 
 
 THE LITTLE ORATOR. 
 
 BEV. THADDEUS HARRIS. 
 
 Graduated at Harvard ; for a time a teacher, 
 and in 1793 was settled over the church in 
 Dorchester, Massachusetts. These verses 
 tvere \vritten for and recited by Hon. Ed 
 ward Everett, then a boy four years old. 
 The " little roan refers to the color of the 
 little orator s " hair. 
 
 Pray, how should I, a little lad, 
 In speaking, make a figured 
 
 You re only joking, I m afraid 
 Do wait till I am bigger. 
 
 But since you wish to hear my part, 
 
 And urge me to begin it, 
 I ll strive for praise, with all my heart, 
 
 Though small the hope to win it. 
 
 I ll tell you a tale how farmer John 
 
 A little roan colt bred, sir. 
 And every night and every mom 
 
 He water d and he fed, sir. 
 
 Said neighbor Joe to farmer John, 
 "Am t you a silly dolt, sir, 
 
 To spend such time and care upon 
 A little useless colt, sir $ 
 
 Said farmer John to neighbor Joe, 
 " I ll bring my little roan up, 
 
 Not for the good he now can do, 
 But will do, when he s grown up." 
 
 The moral you can well espy, 
 To keep the tale from spoiling; 
 
 The little colt you think, is I 
 I know it by your smiling. 
 
 And now, my friends, please to excuse 
 My lisping and my stammers; 
 
 I, for this once, have done my best, 
 And so I ll make my manners. 
 
 LINES 
 
 SPOKEN AT A SCHOOL EXHIBITION BY 
 LITTLE BOY SEVEN YEARS OLD. 
 
 BY DAVID EVERETT. 
 
 Born at Princeton, N. Jersey Teacher- 
 Graduate of Dartmouth then editor, and 
 died at Marietta, Ohio, in 1813. These 
 verses were written for one of his pupils at 
 New Ipswich, Mass. 
 
 You d scarce expect one of my age 
 
 Tc speak in public on the stage; 
 
 And if I chance to fall below 
 
 Demosthenes or Cicero, 
 
 Iton t view rne with a critic s eye, 
 
 But pass my imperfections by/ 
 
 Large streams from little fountains flow; 
 
 Tall oaks from little acorns grow; 
 
 And though I now am small and young, 
 
 Of jnilgmeut weak and feeble tongue, 
 
 Yet all great learned men, like me, 
 
 Once learned to read their A, 15, C. 
 
 But why may not Columbia s soil 
 
 Bear men as great as Britain s isle S 
 
 Exceed what Greece and Rome have doneS 
 
 Or any land beneath the sun<i 
 
 Mayn t Massachusetts boast as great 
 
 As any other sister State 1 
 
 Or where s the town, go far and near, 
 
 That does not find a rival here ": 
 
 Or where s the boy but three feet high 
 
 Who s made improvement more than 1 1 
 
 These thoughts inspire my youthful mind 
 
 To be the greatest of mankind: 
 
 Great, not like (Jscsar, stained with blood, 
 
 But only great as I am good. 
 
 A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE. 
 
 EPES SARGEANT. 
 
 Born in 1816 in Gloucester, Mass. 
 
 A life on the ocean wave, 
 
 A home on the rolling deep; 
 Where the scattered waters rave, 
 
 And the winds their revels keep ! 
 Like an eagle caged, I pine 
 
 On this dull, unchanging shore: 
 ! Give me the flashing brine, 
 
 The spray and the tempest s roar ! 
 
 Once more on the deck I stand, 
 
 Of my own swift-gliding craft; 
 Set sail f farewell to the lant ! 
 
 The gale follows fair abaft? 
 We shoot through the sparkling form 
 
 Like an ocean -bird set free; 
 Like the ocean-bird, our home 
 
 We ll find far out on the sea. 
 
 The land is no longer -in view, 
 
 The clouds have begun to frown; 
 But with a stout vessel and creV, 
 
 We ll say, Let the storm come down! 
 And the song of our hearts shall be, 
 
 While the winds and the waters rave, 
 A home on the rolling sea ! 
 
 A life on the ocean wave ! 
 
 THE SETTLER. 
 
 ALFRED B. STREET. 
 
 Born at Poukeepsie, N. Y., in 1811 Bred to 
 
 the law. 
 
 His echoing ax the settler swung 
 
 Amid the sea-like solitude, 
 And rushing, thundering, down were flung 
 
 The Titans of the wood; 
 
G72 
 
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 Loud shrieked the engle as he dashed 
 From out his mossy nest, which crashed 
 
 With its supporting bough, 
 And the first sunlight, leaping, flashed 
 
 On the wolf s haunt below. 
 
 Rude was the garb, and strong the frame 
 
 Of him who plied his ceaseless toil: 
 To form that garb, the wild-wood game 
 
 Contributed their spoil; 
 The soul that warmed that frame, disdained 
 Tlic tinsel, gaud, and glare, that reigned 
 
 Where men their crowds collect; 
 The simple fur, uutrimmed, unstained, 
 
 This forest tamer decked. 
 
 The paths which wound mid gorgeous trees, 
 
 The streams whose bright lips kissed their 
 
 flowers, 
 The winds that swelled their harmonies 
 
 Through those sun-hiding bowers, 
 The temple vast the green arcade, 
 The nestliug vale, the grassy glade, 
 
 Dark cave and swampy lair; 
 These scenes and sounds majestic, made 
 
 His world, his pleasures, there. 
 
 His roof adorned, a pleasant spot, 
 Mid the black Io2;s green i 
 
 green glowed the 
 
 gram, 
 
 And herbs and plants the woods knew not, 
 
 Throve in the sun and rain. 
 The smoke-wreath curling o er the dell, 
 The low the bleat the tinkling bell, 
 
 All made a landscape strange, 
 Which was the living chronicle 
 
 Of deeds that wrought the change. 
 
 The violet sprung at Spring s first tinge, 
 
 The rose of Summer spread its glow, 
 The maize hung on its Autumn fringe, 
 
 Rude Winter brought his snow: 
 And still the settler labored there, 
 His shout aud whistle woke the air 
 
 As cheerily he plied 
 His garden spade, or drove his share 
 
 Along the hillock s side. 
 
 He marked the fire-storm s blazing flood 
 
 Roaring and crackling on its path, 
 And scorching earth, and melting wood 
 
 Beneath its greedy wrath; 
 He marked the rapid whirlwind shoot, 
 Trampling the pine tree with its foot, 
 
 And darkening thick the day 
 With streaming bough and severed roo A 
 
 Hurled whizzing on its way. 
 
 His gaunt hound yelled, his rifle flashed, 
 
 The grim bear hushed its savage growl, 
 In blood and foam the panther gnashed 
 
 Its fangs with dying howl; 
 The fleet deer ceased its flying bound, 
 Its snarling wolf foe bit the ground, 
 
 And with its moaning cry, 
 The beaver sank beneath the wound 
 
 Its pond-built Venice by. 
 
 Humble the lot, yet his the race ! 
 
 When liberty sent forth her cry. 
 Who thronged in Conflict s deadliest place. 
 
 To fight to bleed to die. 
 W 7 ho cumbered Bunker s height of red, 
 By hope, through weary years were led, 
 
 And witnessed York town s sun 
 Blaze on a Nation s banner spread, 
 
 A Nation s freedom won. 
 
 THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD. 
 
 II. \V. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 We sat within the farm-house old, 
 
 Whose windows, looking o er the hay, 
 
 Gave to the sea-breeze, damp aud cold, 
 An easy entrance, night and day. 
 
 Not far away we saw the port 
 
 The strange, old-fashioned, silent town, 
 
 The light-house the dismantled fort 
 The wooden houses, quaint and brown. 
 
 We sat and talked until the night, 
 Descending, filled the little room; 
 
 Our faces faded from the sight, 
 Our voices only broke the gloom. 
 
 We spake of many a vanished scene, 
 Of what we had once thought and said, 
 
 Of what had been, and might have been, 
 And who was changed, and who was dead; 
 
 And all that fills the hearts of friends, 
 When first they feel, with secret pain, 
 
 Theh lives thenceforth have separate ends, 
 And never can be one again; 
 
 The first slight swerving of the heart, 
 That words are powerless to express, 
 
 And leave it still unsaid in part, 
 Or say it in too great excess. 
 
 The very tones in which we spake 
 
 Had something strange, I could but mark; 
 
 The leaves of memory seemed to make 
 A mournful rustling in the dark. 
 
 Oft died the words upon our lips, 
 
 As suddenly, from out the fire 
 Built of the wreck of stranded ships, 
 
 The flames would leap and then expire. 
 
 And, as their splendor flashed and failed, 
 We thought of wrecks upon the main, 
 
 Of ships dismantled, that were hailed 
 Aud sent no answer back again. 
 
 The windows, rattling in their frames 
 The ocean roaring up the beach 
 
 The gusty blast the bickering flames- 
 All mingled vaguely in our speech; 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Until they made themselves a part 
 Of fancies floating through the brain; 
 
 The long-lost ventures of the heart, 
 That send no answers back again. 
 
 fames that glowed ! hearts that yearn - 
 They were indeed too much akin, * [ed 1 
 
 The drift-wood fire without that burned. 
 The thoughts that burned and glowed 
 within. 
 
 MARCO BOZZARIS.* 
 
 FTTZ-OREEN 7 E HALLKCK. 
 
 in an attack upon the Turkish camp 
 at Laspi, the site of ancient Plataea, Au 
 gust 20, 1828. and expired in the moment 
 of victory. His last words were : " To die 
 for liberty is a pleasure, not a pa-in." 
 
 At midnight, in his guarded tent, 
 
 The Turk was dreaming of the hour 
 When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, 
 
 Should tremble at his power: 
 In dreams, through camp and court, he bore 
 The trophies of a conqueror; 
 
 In dreams his song of triumph heard: 
 Then wore his monarch s signet ring: 
 Then pressed that monarch s throne a king; 
 As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 
 
 As Eden s garden bird. 
 
 At midnitrht, in the forest shades, 
 
 Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band. 
 True as the steel of their tried blades, 
 
 Heroes in h/art and hand. 
 There had the Persian s thousands stood, 
 There had the glad earth drunk their blood, 
 
 On old Plattra s day: 
 And now there breathed that haunted air 
 The sons of sires who conquered there, 
 With arm to strike, and soul to dare, 
 
 As quick, as far as they. 
 
 An hour passed on the Turk awoke; 
 
 That bright dream was his last; 
 HP awoke to hear his sentries shriek, 
 " To arms ! they come ! the Greek ! the 
 
 Greek !" 
 
 He woke to die midst flame, and smoke, 
 And shout, and groan, and saber stroke, 
 
 And death shots falling thick and fast 
 As lightnings from the mountain cloud- 
 And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 
 
 Bozzaris cheer his band; 
 "Strike till the last armed foe expires; 
 Strike for your altars and your fires; 
 Strike for the green craves of your sires; 
 
 God and your native laud !" 
 
 They fought like brave men. long and well; 
 
 They piled that ground with Moslem slain- 
 Thev conquer d but Bozzaris fell, 
 
 Bleeding at every vein. 
 His few surviving comrades saw 
 His smile when rang their proud hurrah, 
 
 Aud the red field was won: 
 Then saw in death his eyelids close 
 Calmly, as to a night s repose, 
 
 Like flowers at set of sun. 
 
 Come to the bridal chamber, Death! 
 
 Come to the mother s, when she feels, 
 For the first time, her firstborn s breath; 
 
 Come when the blessed seals 
 That close the pestilence are broke, 
 And crowded cities wail its stroke; 
 Come in consumption s ghastly form, 
 The earthquake shock, the ocean-storm, 
 Come when the heart beats high and warm, 
 
 With banquet-song, and dance, and wine 
 And thou ait terrible the tear. 
 The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier; 
 And all we know, or dream, or fear 
 
 Of agony, are thine. 
 
 But to the hero, when his sword 
 
 Has won the battle for the free, 
 Thy voice sounds like a prophet s word; 
 And in its hollow tones are heard 
 
 The thanks of millions yet to be. 
 Come, when his task of fame is wrought 
 Come, with the laurel-leaf, blood-bought 
 
 Come in her crowning hour and then 
 Thy sunken eye s unearthly light 
 To him is welcome as the sight 
 
 Of sky and stars to prison d men: 
 Thy grasp is welcome as the hand 
 Of brother in a foreign land; 
 Thy summons welcome as the cry 
 That told the Indian isles were nigh 
 
 To the world-seeking Genoese, 
 When the land-wind, from woods of palm, 
 And orange-groves, and fields of balm, 
 
 Blew o er the Haytian seas. 
 
 Bozzaris ! with the storied brave 
 
 Greece nurtured in her glory s time, 
 Rest thee there is no prouder grave, 
 
 Even in her own proud clime. 
 She wore no funeral weeds for thee, 
 
 Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, 
 Like torn branch from death s leafless tree. 
 In sorrow s pomp and pageantry, 
 
 The heartless luxury of the tomb: 
 But she remembers thee as one 
 Long loved, and for a season gone; 
 For thee her poet s lyre is wreathed, 
 Her marble wrought, her music breathed; 
 For thee she rings the birthday bells; 
 Of thee her babes first lisping tells: 
 For thine her evening prayer is said 
 At palace couch, and cottage bed; 
 Her soldier, closing with the foe, 
 Gives for thy sake a deadlier blow; 
 His plighted maiden, when she fears 
 For him, the joy of her young years, 
 Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears 
 
 And she, the mother of thy boys, 
 Though in her eye and faded cheek 
 Is read the grief she will not speak, 
 
 The memory of her Curied ioys, 
 
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 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 And even he who cave thee birth, 
 Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, 
 
 Talk of thy doom without a sigh; 
 For thou art Freedom s no\v, and Fame s, 
 Oue of the few, the immortal names, 
 
 That were not born to die. 
 
 SONG OF MARION S MEN. 
 
 W. C. BRYANT. 
 
 Our band is few, but true and tried, 
 
 Our leader frank and bold ; 
 The British soldier trembles 
 
 When Marion s name is told. 
 Our fortress is the good green wood, 
 
 Our tent the cypress tree; 
 We know the forest round us, 
 
 As seamen know the sea. 
 \Ve know its walls of thorny vines, 
 
 Its glades of reedy grass, 
 Its safe and silent islands 
 
 Within the dark morass. 
 
 Wo to the English soldiery 
 
 That little dread us near! 
 On them shall light at midnight 
 
 A strange and sudden fear: 
 When, waking to their tents on fire, 
 
 They grasp their arms in vain, 
 And they who stand to face us 
 
 Are beat to earth again; 
 And they who fly iu terror deem 
 
 A mighty host behind, 
 And hear the tramp of thousands 
 
 Upon the hollow wind. 
 
 Then sweet the hour that brings release 
 
 From danger and from toil: 
 We talk the battle over, 
 
 And share the battle s spoil. 
 The woodland rings with laugh and shout, 
 
 As if a hunt were up, 
 And woodland flowers are gather d 
 
 To crown the soldier s cup. 
 With merry songs we mock the wind 
 
 That in the pine-top grieves, 
 And slumber long and sweetly, 
 
 On beds of oaken leaves. 
 
 Well knows the fair and friendly moon 
 
 The band that Marion leads 
 The glitter of their rifles, 
 
 The scampering of their steeds. 
 Tis life to guide the fiery barb 
 
 Across the moonlight plain; 
 Tis life to feel the night-wind 
 
 That lifts his tossing mane. 
 A moment in the British camp 
 
 A moment and away 
 Back to the pathless forest, 
 
 Before the peep of day. 
 
 Grave men there are by broad Santee, 
 
 Grave men with hoary hairs, ,. 
 Their hearts are all with Marion, 
 
 For Marion are their prayers. 
 And lovely ladies greet our band 
 
 With kindliest welcoming, 
 With smiles like those of summer, 
 
 And tears like those of spring. 
 For them we wear these tiusty arms, 
 
 And lay them down no more, 
 Till we have driven the Briton 
 
 Forever from our shore. 
 
 THE SONG OF STREAM. 
 
 GEORGE W. CUTTER. 
 
 Late of Covington, Ky. 
 
 Harness me down with your iron bands; 
 
 Be sure of your curb and rein: 
 For I scorn the power of your puny hands, 
 
 As the tempest scorns a chain ! 
 How I laugh d as I lay conceal d from sight 
 
 For many a countless hour, 
 At the childish boast of human might, 
 
 And the pride of human powei i 
 
 When I saw an army upon the laud, 
 
 A navy upon the seas, 
 Creeping along, a snail-like band, 
 
 Or waiting the wayward breeze; 
 When I mark d the peasant fairly reel 
 
 With the toil which he faintly bore, 
 As he feebly turn d the tardy wheel, 
 
 Or tugg d at the weary oar: 
 
 W 7 hen I measured the panting courser s 
 speed, 
 
 The flight of the courier-dove, 
 As they bore the law a king decreed, 
 
 Or the lines of impatient love 
 I could not but think how the world would 
 feel, 
 
 As these were outstripp d afar 
 When I should be bound to the rushing keel, 
 
 Or chain d to the flying car! 
 
 Ha. ha. ha! they found me at last; 
 
 They invited me forth at length, 
 And I rushed to my throne with a thundei 
 blast, 
 
 And laugh d in my iron strength! 
 0! then ye saw a wondrous change 
 
 On the earth and ocean wide, 
 Where now my fiery armies range, 
 
 Nor wait for wind and tile. 
 
 Hurrah! hurrah! the water s o er, 
 
 The mountains steep decline; 
 Time space have yielded to my power; 
 
 The world the world is mine! 
 
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 675 
 
 The rivers the sun hath earliest blest, 
 Or those where his beams decline; 
 
 The giant streams of the queenly West, 
 And the Orient floods divine. 
 
 The ocean pales where er I sweep, 
 
 To hear my strength rejoice, 
 And the monsters of the briny deep 
 
 Cower, trembling at my voice. 
 I carry the wealth and the lord of earth, 
 
 The thoughts of his godlike mind; 
 The wind lags after my flying forth, 
 
 The lightning is left behind. 
 
 In the darksome depths of the fathomless 
 mine 
 
 My tireless arm doth play, 
 Where the rocks never saw the sun s decline, 
 
 Or the dawn of the glorious day. 
 I bring earth s glittering jewels np 
 
 From the hidden cave below, 
 And I make the fountain s granite cup 
 
 With a crystal gush o erflow. 
 
 I blow the bellows, I forge the steel, 
 
 In all the shops of trade ; 
 I hammer the ore and turn the wheel 
 
 Where my arms of strength are made. 
 I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint 
 
 I carry, I spin, I weave ; 
 And all my doings I put into print 
 
 On every Saturday eve. 
 
 I ve no muscles to weary, no breast to decay, 
 
 No bones to be "laid on the shelf," 
 And soon I intend yon may "go and play," 
 
 While I manage this world myself. 
 Eat harness me down with your iron bands, 
 
 Be sure of your curb and rein : 
 Fcr I scorn the strength of your puny hands, 
 
 As the tempest scorns a chain ! 
 
 RHYME OF THE RAIL. 
 
 JOHN G. SAXE. 
 
 Born in Highgate, Vermont, in 1816 Edu 
 cated for the bar Many years editor of 
 " The Sentinel," at Burlington, Vt. 
 
 Singing through the forests, 
 
 Rattling over ridges, 
 Shooting under arches, 
 
 Rambling over bridges, 
 Whizzing through the mountai: 
 
 Buzzing o er the vale 
 Bless me ! this is pleasant, 
 
 Riding on the rail ! 
 
 Men of different "stations" . 
 
 In the eye of Fame, 
 Here are very quickly 
 
 Coming to the same, 
 High and lowly people, 
 
 Birds of every feather, 
 On a common level 
 
 Traveling together ! 
 43 
 
 Gentleman in shorts, 
 
 Looming very tall ; 
 Gentleman at large ; 
 
 Talking very sma^ ; 
 Gentleman in tights, 
 
 With a loose-ish mien ; 
 Gentleman in gray, 
 
 Looking rather green. 
 
 Gentleman quite old, 
 
 Asking for the news ; 
 Gentleman in black, 
 
 In a fit of blues ; 
 Gentleman in claret, 
 
 Sober as a vicar ; 
 Gentleman in tweed, 
 
 Dreadfully in liquor ! 
 
 Stranger on the right, 
 Looking very sunny, 
 
 Obviously reading 
 
 Something rather funny. 
 
 Now the smiles are thicker, 
 Wonder what they mean? 
 
 Faith, he s got the KNICKER 
 BOCKER Magazine ! 
 
 Stranger on the left, 
 
 Closing up his peepers, 
 Now he snores amain, 
 
 Like the Seven Sleepers ;. 
 At his feet a volume 
 
 Gives the explanation, 
 How the man grew stupid 
 
 From "Association !" 
 
 Ancient maiden lady 
 
 Anxiously remarks, 
 That, there must be peril 
 
 Mong so many sparks ; 
 Roguish looking fellow, 
 
 Turning to the stranger, 
 Says it s his opinion 
 
 She is out of danger ! 
 
 Woman with her baby, 
 
 Sitting vis-a-vis ; 
 Baby keeps a squalling, 
 
 Woman looks at me ; 
 Asks about the distance, 
 
 Says it s tiresome talking, 
 Noises of the cars 
 
 Are so very shocking ! 
 
 Market woman careful 
 
 Of the precious casket, 
 Knowing eggs are eggs, 
 
 Tightly holds her basket ; 
 Feeling that a smash, 
 
 If it came, would surely 
 Send her eggs to pot 
 
 Rather prematurely ! 
 
 Singing through the forests, 
 Rattling over ridges, 
 
 Shooting under arches .. 
 Rumbling over bridges,. 
 
676 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Whizzing through the mountains, 
 Buzzing o er the vale ; 
 
 Bless me ! this is pleasant, 
 Riding on the rail ! 
 
 GONE. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 Horn in 1808 in Havcrhill, Mass.. of Quaker 
 parentage The most noted of the poets 
 of the anti-slavery party. 
 
 Another hand is beckoning us, 
 
 Another call is given ; 
 And glows once more with Angel-steps 
 
 The path which reaches Heaven. 
 
 Our young and gentle friend whose smile 
 Made brighter summer hours, 
 
 Arnid the frosts of autumn time 
 Has left us, with the flowers. 
 
 No paling of the cheek of bloom 
 
 Forewarned us of decay ; 
 No shadow from the Silent Land 
 
 Fell around our sister s way. 
 
 The light ot her young life went down, 
 
 As sinks behind the hill 
 The glory of a setting star 
 
 Clear, suddenly, and still. 
 
 As pure and sweet, her fair brow seemed 
 
 Eternal as the sky ; 
 And like the brook s low song, her voice- 
 
 A sound which could not die. 
 
 And half we deemed she needed not 
 
 The chancing of her sphere, 
 To give to Heaven a Shining One, 
 
 Who walked an Angel here. 
 
 The blessing of her quiet life 
 
 Fell on us like the dew ; 
 And good thoughts, where her footsteps 
 pressed, 
 
 Like fairy blossoms grew. 
 
 Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 
 
 Were in her very look ; 
 We read her face, as one who reads 
 
 A true and holy book : 
 
 The measure of a blessed hymn, 
 To which our hearts could move ; 
 
 The breathing of an inward psalm ; 
 A canticle of love. 
 
 We miss her in the place of prayer, 
 And by the hearth-fire s light ; 
 
 We pause beside her door to hear 
 Once more her sweet "Good night !" 
 
 There seems a shadow en the day, 
 
 Her smile no longer cheers ; 
 A dimness on the stars of night, 
 
 Like eyes that look through tears> 
 
 Alone unto our Father s will 
 One thought hath reconciled ; 
 
 That He whose love exceedeth ours 
 Hath taken home His child. 
 
 Fold her, oh Father! in thine arms, 
 
 And let her henceforth be 
 A messenger of love between 
 
 Our human hearts and Thee. 
 
 Still let her mild rebuking stand 
 
 Between us and the wrong, 
 And her dear memory serve to make 
 
 Our faith in Goodness strong. 
 
 And grant that she who. trembling, here 
 
 Distrusted all her powers, 
 May welcome to her holier home 
 
 The well beloved of ours. 
 
 SNOW. 
 
 REV. RALPH HOYT. 
 
 Born in New York about 1810 Clergyman oi 
 the Protestant Episcopal Church. 
 
 The blessed morn is come again ; 
 
 The early gray 
 Taps at the slumberer s window-pane, 
 
 And seems to say 
 "Break, break from the enchanter s chain, 
 
 Away away !" 
 
 Tis winter, yet there is no sound 
 
 Along the air, 
 Of winds upon their battle-ground; 
 
 But gently there, 
 The snow is falling all around 
 
 How fair how fair ! 
 
 The jocund fields would masquerade . 
 
 Fantastic scene ! 
 Tree, shrub, and lawn, and lonely glade 
 
 Have cast their green, 
 And joiu d the revel, all array d 
 
 So white and clean. 
 
 E en the old posts, that hold the bars 
 
 And the old gate, 
 Forgetful of their wintry wars 
 
 And age sedate, [saw, 
 
 High-capp d. and plumed, like white hua- 
 
 Stand there in state. 
 
 The drifts arc hanging by the sill, 
 
 The eaves, the door ; 
 The hay-stack has become a hill ; 
 
 All cover d o er 
 The wagon, loaded for the mil] 
 
 The eve before. * 
 
 Maria brings the water-pail 
 But where s the well! 
 Like magic of a fairy tale, 
 
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 677 
 
 Most strange to tell, 
 
 All vanish d curb, and crank, and rail- 
 How deep it fell ! 
 
 The wood -pile too is playing hide ; 
 
 The axe the log 
 The kennel of that friend so tried 
 
 (The old watch dog), 
 The grindstone standing by its side, 
 
 All now incog. 
 
 The bustling cock looks ont aghast 
 
 From his high shed ; 
 No spot to scratch him a repast, 
 
 Up curves his head, 
 Starts the dull hamlet with a blast, 
 
 And back to bed. 
 
 The barn-yard gentry, musing, chime 
 
 Their morning moan ; 
 Like Memnon s music of old time 
 
 That voice of stone ! 
 So marbled they and so sublime 
 
 Their solemn tone. 
 
 Good Ruth has called the youuker folk " 
 
 To dress below ; 
 Full welcome was the word she spoke, 
 
 Down, down they go, 
 The cottage quietude is broke 
 
 The snow ! the snow ! 
 
 Now rises from around the fire 
 
 A pleasant strain ; 
 Ye giddy sons of mirth, retire ! 
 
 And ye profane 
 A hvmn to the Eternal Sire 
 
 Goes up again. 
 
 The patriarchal Book divine, 
 
 Upon the knee, 
 Opes where the gems of Judah shine 
 
 (Sweet miustrelsie !) 
 How soars each heart with each fair line, 
 
 O God ! to Thee ! 
 
 Around the alter low they bend, 
 
 Devout in prayer ; 
 As snows upon the roof descend, 
 
 So angels there 
 Guard o er that household, to defend 
 
 With gentle care. 
 
 Now sings the kettle o er the blaze ; 
 
 The buckwheat heaps ; 
 Rare Mocha, worth an Arab s praise, 
 
 Sweet Susan steeps ; 
 The old round stand her nod obeys, 
 
 And out it leaps. 
 
 Unerring presages declare 
 
 The banquet near ; 
 Soon, busy appetites are there ; 
 
 And disappear 
 The glories of the ample fare, 
 
 With thanks sincere. 
 
 Now let the busy day begin : 
 
 Out rolls the churn ; 
 Forth hastes the farm-boy, and brings in 
 
 The brush to burn ; 
 Sweep, shovel, scour, sew, knit, and spin, 
 
 Till night s return. 
 
 To delve his threshing John must hie ; 
 
 His sturdy shoe 
 Cau all the subtle damp defy : 
 
 How wades he through "i 
 While dainty milkmaids, slow and shy, 
 
 His track pursue. 
 
 Each to the hour s allotted care : 
 
 To shell the corn ; 
 The broken harness to repair: 
 
 The sleigh t adorn : 
 So cheerful tranquil snowy fair 
 
 The WINTER MOR,N. 
 
 AN INCIDENT IN A RAILROAD CAR. 
 
 JAMES W. LOWELL. 
 
 Born in Boston in 1819. 
 
 He spoke of Burns : men rude and rough 
 Press d round to hear the praise of one 
 
 Whose heart was made of manly, simple stuff, 
 As homespun as their own. 
 
 And, when he read, they forward leaned, 
 Drinking, with thirsty hearts and ears, 
 
 His brook-like songs whom glory never wean- 
 From humble smiles and tears. [ed 
 
 Slowly there grew a tender awe, 
 Sun-like, o er faces brown and hard, 
 
 As if in him who read they felt and saw 
 Some presence of the bard. 
 
 It \vas a sight for sin and wrong 
 
 And slavish tyranny to see, 
 A sight to make our faith more pure and 
 
 In high humanity. [strong 
 
 I thought, these men will carry hence 
 Promptings their former life above, 
 
 And something of a finer reverence 
 For beauty, truth, and love. 
 
 God scatters love on every side, 
 
 Freely among his children all, 
 And always hearts are lying open wide, 
 
 Wherein some grains may fall. 
 
 There is no wind but sowcth seeds 
 
 Of a more true and open life, 
 W T hich burst, nnlook d-for, into high-soul d 
 
 With wayside beauty rife. [deeds 
 
 We find within these souls of GUI S 
 Some wild germs of a higher birth, 
 
 Which in the poet s tropic heart bear flowers 
 Whose fragrance fills the earth. 
 
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 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Within the hearts of all men lie 
 
 These promises of wider bliss, 
 Which blossom into hopes that cannot die, 
 
 In sunny hours like this. 
 
 All that hath been majestical 
 
 In life or death, since time began, 
 
 Is native in the simple heart of all, 
 The angel heart of man. 
 
 And thus, among the untaught poor, 
 Great deeds and feelings find a home, 
 
 That cast in shadow all the golden lore 
 Of classic Greece and Rome. 
 
 0, mighty brother-soul of man, 
 Where er thou art, in low or high, 
 
 Thy skyey arches with exulting span 
 O er- roof infinity ! 
 
 All thoughts that mold the age begin 
 Deep down within the primitive soul, 
 
 And from the many slowly upward, win 
 To one who grasps the whole : 
 
 111 his broad breast the feeling deep 
 That struggled on the many s tongue, 
 
 Swells to a tide of thought, whose surges leap 
 O er the weak thrones of wrong. 
 
 All thought begins in feeling wide 
 In the great "mass its base is hid, 
 
 -And narrowing up to thought, stands glovi- 
 A moveless pyramid. [fied, 
 
 Nor is he far astray who deems [broad 
 
 That every hope, which rises and grows 
 
 In the world s heart, by order d impulse 
 From the great heart of God. [streams 
 
 God wills, man hopes : in .common souls 
 Hope is but vague and undefined, 
 
 Till from the poet s tongue the message rolls 
 A blessing to his kind. 
 
 Never did Poesy appear 
 
 So full of heaven to me, as when 
 I saw how it would pierce through pride and 
 
 To the lives of coarsest men. [fear 
 
 It may be glorious to write 
 
 Thoughts that shall glad the two or three 
 High souls, like those far stars that come in 
 
 Once in a century ; [sight 
 
 But better far it is to speak 
 
 One simple word, which now and then 
 Shall waken their free nature in the weak 
 
 And friendless sous of men ; 
 
 To write some earnest verse or line, 
 Which, seeking not the praise of art, 
 
 Shall make a clearer faith and manhood shine 
 In the untutor d heart. 
 
 He who doth this, in verse or prose, 
 
 May be forgotten in his day, 
 But surely shall be crowu d at last with those 
 
 Who live and speak for aye. 
 
 WOMAN. 
 
 GEORGE P. MORRIS 
 
 .Ah, woman ! in this world of ours, 
 What boon can be compared to thee *i 
 
 How slow would drag life s weary hours, 
 
 Though man s proud brow were bound 
 
 flowers, 
 And his the wealth of laud and sea, 
 
 If destined to exist alone, 
 
 And ne er call woman s heart his own 
 
 My mother ! at that holy name 
 Within my bosom there s a gush. 
 
 Of feeling, which no time can tame 
 
 A feeling, which, for years of fame, 
 I would not, could not, crush ; 
 
 And sisters ! ye are dear as life ; 
 
 But when I look upon my wife, 
 
 My heart blood gives a sudden rush, 
 
 And all my fond affections blend 
 
 In mother, sister, wife, and friend. 
 
 Yes, woman s love is free from guile, 
 
 And pure as bright Aurora s ray ; 
 The heart will melt before her smile, 
 
 And base-born passions fade away ; 
 Were I the monarch of the earth, 
 
 Or master of the swelling sea, 
 I would not estimate their worth, 
 
 Dear woman ! half the price of thee I 
 
 MY BIRD. 
 
 EMILY JUDSON. 
 
 Born in Central New York Married in 1847 
 to Kev. Adoniram Judson, missionary to 
 Burmah, India. 
 
 Ere last year s moon had left the sky, 
 A birdling sought my Indian nest, 
 
 And folded, oh ! so lovingly ! 
 Her tiny wings upon my breast. 
 
 From morn till evening s purple tinge, 
 In winsome helplessness she lies ; 
 
 Two rose-leaves, with a silken fringe, 
 Shut softly on her starry eyes. 
 
 There s not in Ind a lovelier bird ; 
 
 Broad earth owns not a happier nest ; 
 God, thou hast a fountain .stirr d, 
 
 Whose waters never more shall rest. 
 
 This beautiful, mysterious thing, 
 This seeming visitant from Heaven, 
 
 This bird with the immortal wing, 
 To me to me, thy hand has given. 
 
 The pulse first caught its tiny stroke, 
 The blood its crimson hue from mine; 
 
 This life, which I have dared invoke, 
 Henceforth is parallel with thine. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 679 
 
 A silent awe is iu my room 
 I tremble with delicious fear; 
 
 The future, with its light aud gloom, 
 Time and Eternity are here. 
 
 Doubts hopes, iu eager tumult rise ; 
 
 Hear, my God ! one earnest prayer 
 Room for my bird iu Paradise, 
 
 Aud give her angel plumage there ! 
 
 THE COUNTRY LOVERS; 
 
 OR, MR. JONATHAN JOLTHEAD s COURTSHIP 
 WITH MISS SALLY SNAPPER. 
 
 THOMAS GREEN" FESSENDEX. 
 
 Born in Walpole, N. H., in 1771 Long edi 
 tor of the highly esteemed New England 
 Farmer, a Boston weekly paper. This 
 poem was a favorite some sixty years ago. 
 
 Tune YANKEE DOODLE. 
 A merry tale I will rehearse, 
 
 As ever you did hear, sir, 
 How Jo ithan set out, so fierce, 
 To see his dearest dear, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, keep it up, 
 
 Yankee doodle dandy, 
 Mind the music, mind the step, 
 Aud with the girls be handy. 
 
 His father gave him bran new suit, 
 
 And money, sir. in plenty, 
 Besides a prancing nag to boot, 
 
 When he was oue-and-twenty. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Moreover, sir, I d have you know, 
 That he had got some knowledge, 
 
 Enough for common use, I trow, 
 But had not been at college. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 A hundred he could count, tis said. 
 
 Aud in the bible read, sir, 
 And by good Christian parents bred, 
 
 Could even say the creed, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 He d been to school to Master Drawl, 
 
 To spell a-bom-in-a-ble, 
 And when he miss d, he had fo crawl, 
 
 Straight under master s table. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 One day his mother said to him, 
 " My darling son, come here, 
 
 Come fix you up. so neat and trim, 
 And go a courting, dear." 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "Why, what the deuce does mother wantl 
 
 I snigs I daresn t go ; 
 I shall get funn d and then plague on t 
 
 Folks will laugh at me so !" 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "Pho ! pho ! fix up, a courting go, 
 
 To see the deacon s Sarah, 
 Who ll have a hundred pound, you kno if, 
 
 As soon as she does marry." 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Then Jonathan, in best array, 
 Mounted his dappled nag, sir ; 
 
 But trembled, sadly, all the way, 
 Lest he should get the bag, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 He mutter d as he rode along, 
 
 Our Jothom overheard, sir, 
 And if twill jingle iu my song, 
 
 I ll tell you every word, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "I wonder mother 11 make me go, 
 
 Since girls 1 am afraid of; 
 I never knnw d, nor want to know, 
 
 What sort of stuff they re made of 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "A wife would make good housen stuff, 
 If she were downright clever, 
 
 And Sal would suit me well enough, 
 If she would let me have her ; 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 " But then, I shan t know what to say, 
 
 When we are left together, 
 I d rather lie in stack of hay, 
 
 In coldest winter weather. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 He reach d the house, as people say, 
 Not far from eijrht o clock, sir; 
 
 And Joel hollow d "in, I say," 
 As soou as he did knock, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 He made of bows, twixt two and three, 
 Just as his mother taught him, 
 
 All which were droll enough to see : 
 You d think the cramp had caught him 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 At length came in the deacon s Sal 
 From milking at the barn, sir ; 
 
 And faith she is as good a gal 
 As ever twisted yarn. sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 For she knows all about affairs, 
 Can wash, and bake, and brew, sir, 
 
 Sing " Now I lay ine," say her prayers, 
 And make a pudding too, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 To Boston market she has been 
 
 On horse, and in a wagon, 
 And many pretty things has seen, 
 
 Which "every one can t brag on. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
680 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 She s courted been, by many a lad, 
 
 And knows ho\v sparkiny s done, sir, 
 With Jonathan she was right glad, 
 To have a little fun, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 The ladies all, as I should guess, 
 And many a lady s man, sir, 
 
 Would wish to know about her dress ; 
 I ll tell them all I can, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Her wrapper, gray, was wot so bad, 
 Her apron check d with blue, sir, 
 
 One stocking on one foot she had, 
 On t other foot a shoe, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Now, should a Boston lady read, 
 Of Sally s shoe and stocking, 
 
 She d say a " monstrous slut, indeed, 
 Oh la ! she is quite shocking !" 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Yon fine Miss Boston lady gay, 
 For this your speech, I thank ye, 
 
 Call on me, when you come this way, 
 And take a drachm of Yankee.- 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Now Jonathan did scratch his head, 
 When first he saw his dearest ; 
 
 Got up sat down and nothing said, 
 But felt about the queerest. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Then talk d with Sally s brother Joe 
 Bout sheep, and cows, and oxen, 
 
 How wicked folks to church did go, 
 With dirty woollen frocks on. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 And how a witch, in shape of owl, 
 Did steal her neighbor s geese, sir, 
 
 And turkeys too. aud other fowl, 
 When people did not please her. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 And how a man, one dismal night, 
 
 Shot her with silver bullet, 
 And then she flew straight out of sight, 
 
 As fast as she could pull it. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 How Widow Wunks was sick next day, 
 The parson went to view her, 
 
 And saw the very place, they say, 
 Where foresaid ball went through her ! 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 And now the people went to bed : 
 They guess d for what he d come, sir ; 
 
 But Jonathan was much afraid, 
 And wish d himself at home, sir. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 At length, says Sal, - they re gone, you see 
 
 And we are left together ;" 
 Say Jonathan, " indeed they be 
 
 Tis mighty pleasant weather !" 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Sal cast a sheep s eye at the dunce, 
 
 Then turn d toward the fire ; 
 He muster d courage, all at once, 
 
 And hitch d a little nigher. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 ,Ye young men all, and lads so^smart, 
 Who chance to read these vusscs, 
 
 His next address pray learn by heart, 
 To whisper to the lasses. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 " Miss Sal, I s going to say, as how, 
 
 We ll spark it here to-night, 
 I kind of love you, Sal, I vow, 
 
 And mother said I might." 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Then Jonathan, as we are told, 
 Did even think to smack her ; 
 
 Sal cock d her chin, and look d so bold, 
 He did not dare attack her ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "Well done, my man, you ve broke the ire, 
 
 And that with little pother, 
 Now, Jonathan, take my advice, 
 
 And always mind your mother ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 This courting is a kind of job 
 
 I always did admire, sir, 
 And these two brands, with one dry cob, 
 
 Will make a courting fire, sir." 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 " Miss Sal, you are the very she, 
 
 If you will love me now, 
 That I will marry then you see, 
 
 You ll have one briudle cow. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "Then we will live, both I and you, 
 
 In father s t other room. 
 For that will sartain hold us two, 
 
 When we ve mov d out the loom. 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 " Next Sabbath-day we \yll be cried, 
 Aud have a taring wedding, 
 
 And lads and lasses take a ride, 
 If it should be good sledding 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 "My father has a nice bull calf, 
 
 Which shall be yonr s, my sweet one ; 
 
 Twill weigh two hundred and a half, 
 Says SaC "well, that s a neat one." 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 681 
 
 "Your father s full of fun, d ye see, 
 And faith, I likes his spoiling, 
 
 To send his fav rite calf to me, 
 His nice bull calf a courting." 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 " Are you the lad who went to town, 
 Put on your streaked trowses, 
 
 Then vow d you could not s<?e the town, 
 There were so many houses 1" 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Our lover hung his under lip, 
 
 He thought she meant to joke him ; 
 
 Like heartless hen that has the pip, 
 His courage all forsook him. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 For he to Boston town had heeu, 
 
 As matters here are stated ; 
 Came home and told what he had seen, 
 
 As Sally has related. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 And now he wish d he could retreat, 
 But clar d not make a racket ; 
 
 It seem d as if his heart would beat 
 The buttons off his jacket ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Sul nsk d him if his heart, was whole 1" 
 
 His chin began to quiver; 
 He said, he felt so deuced droll, 
 
 He guess d he d lost his livet ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc 
 
 Now Sal was scar d out of her v its, 
 
 To see his trepidation. 
 She bawl d " he s going into fits," 
 
 And scampcr d like the nation ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 A pail of water she did throw, 
 
 All on her trembling lover, 
 Which wet the lad from top to toe, 
 
 Like drowned rat all over. 
 
 Yankee doodle, etc. 
 
 Then Jonathan straight hied him home, 
 And since I ve heard him brag, sir, 
 
 That though the jade did wet him some, 
 He didn t get the bag, sir ! 
 
 Yankee doodle, keep it up. 
 
 Yankee doodle dandy, 
 Mind the music mind the step, 
 
 And with the girls be handy ! 
 
 THE FLIGHT OF TIME. 
 
 JAMSS G. PERCIVAL. 
 
 Faintly flow, thou falling river, 
 Like a dream that die? away ; 
 
 J)own to ocean gliding ever, 
 Keep thy calm unruffled way : 
 
 Time with such a silent motion. 
 
 Floats along, on wings of air, 
 To eternity s dark ocean, 
 
 Burying all its treasures there. 
 
 Roses bloom, and then they wither ; ^ 
 
 Cheeks are bright, then fade and dio ; 
 Shapes of light are wafted hither 
 
 Then, like visions hurry by : 
 Quick as clouds at evening driven 
 
 O er the many-color d west, 
 Years are bearing us to heaven, 
 
 Home of happiness and rest. 
 
 FIFTY YEARS AGO. 
 
 A SONG OF THE WESTERN PIONEERS. 
 WILLIAM I). GALLAGHER. 
 
 Born in Philadelphia in 1808. Bred a prin 
 ter in Cincinnati Lastingly identified 
 with the literature of the west. 
 
 A song for the early times out west, 
 
 And our greeu old forest-home, 
 Whose pleasant memories freshly yet 
 
 Across the bosom come : 
 A song for the free and gladsome life 
 
 In those early days we led. 
 With a teeming soil beneath our feet, 
 
 And a smiling heaven o erhead ! 
 0, the waves of life danced merrily 
 
 And had a joyous flow, 
 In the days w r heu we were pioneers, 
 
 Fifty years ago ! 
 
 The hunt, the shot, the glorious chase, 
 
 The captured elk or deer ; 
 The camp, the big, bright fire, and then. 
 
 The rich and wholesome cheer; 
 The sweet, sound sleep, at dead of night 
 
 By our camp-fire blazing high 
 Unbroken by the wolf s long howl. 
 
 And the panther springing by. 
 merrily pass d the time, despite 
 
 Our wily Indian foe, 
 In the days when we were pioneers, 
 
 Fifty years ago ! 
 
 We shuun d not labor ; when twas due 
 
 We wrought with right good will 
 And for the home we won for them, 
 
 Our children bless us still. 
 We lived not hermit lives, but oft 
 
 In social converse met ; 
 And fires of love were kindled then, 
 
 That burn on warmly yet. 
 O, pleasantly the stream of life 
 
 Pursued its constant flow, 
 In the days when we were pioneers, 
 
 Fifty years ago ! 
 
 We felt that we were fellow men ; 
 
 We felt we were a band ; 
 Sustain d here in the wilderness 
 
 By heaven s upholding hand. 
 
CSS 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 And when the solemn Sabbath came, 
 
 We gather d iu the wood, 
 And lifted up our hearts in prayer 
 
 To God, the only good. 
 Our terrples then were earth aud sky; 
 
 None others did we know 
 In the days when we were pioneers, 
 
 fifty years ago ! 
 
 Our forest life was rough and rude, 
 
 And dangers closed us round, 
 But here, amid the green old trees, 
 
 Freedom we sought and found. 
 Oft through our dwellings wintry blasts 
 
 Would rush with shriek and rnoau ; 
 We cared not though they were but frail. 
 
 We felt they were our own ! 
 O, fuee and manly lives we led. 
 
 Mid verdure or mid snow, 
 Iu the days when we were pioneers, 
 
 Fifty years ago ! 
 
 But now our course of life is short ; 
 
 And as, from day to day, 
 We re walking on with halting step, 
 
 And fainting by the way, 
 Another land, more bright than this, 
 
 To our dim sight appears, 
 And on our way to it we ll soon 
 
 Again be pioneers ! 
 Yet while we linger, we may all 
 
 A backward glance still throw 
 To the days when we were pioneers, 
 
 Fifty years ago ! 
 
 No mercy now can clear her brow 
 For this world s peace to pray; 
 
 For, as love s wild prayer dissolved in aif 
 Her woman s heart gave way ! 
 
 But the sin forgiven by Christ in heaven 
 By man is curst alway ! 
 
 UNSEEN SPIRITS. 
 
 X. P. WILLIS. 
 
 The shadows lay along Broadway 
 Twas near the twilight-tide 
 
 And slowly there a lady fail- 
 Was walking in her pride. 
 
 Alone walked she ; but, viewlessly, 
 W 7 alked spirits at her side. 
 
 Peace charmed the street beneath her feet, 
 
 And Honor charmed the air ; 
 And all astir looked kind on her, 
 
 And called her good as fair 
 For all God ever gave to her 
 
 She kepf with chary care. 
 
 She kept with care her beauties rare 
 From lovers warm and true 
 
 For her heart was cold to all but gold, 
 And the rich came not to woo 
 
 But honored well are charms to sell 
 If priests the selling do. 
 
 Now walking there was one more fair 
 
 A slight girl, lily-pale ; 
 And she had unseen company 
 
 To make the spirit quail 
 Twixt Want aud Scorn she walked forlorn, 
 
 And nothing could avail. 
 
 ANNABEL LEE. 
 
 E. A. POE. 
 
 It was many and many a year ago, 
 
 In a kingdom by the sea, 
 That a maiden there lived whom you may 
 
 know 
 
 By the name of Annabel Lee ; 
 And this maiden she lived with no other 
 
 thought 
 Than to love and be loved by me. 
 
 / was a child and she was a child, 
 In this kingdom by the sea ; 
 But we loved with a love that was more 
 
 than love 
 
 I and my Annabel Lee 
 With a love that the winged seraphs of 
 
 heaven 
 Coveted her aud me. 
 
 And this was the reason that, long ago, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea, 
 A wind ble w out of a cloud, chilling 
 
 My beautiful Annabel Lee; 
 So that her highborn kinsmen came 
 
 Aud bore her away from me, 
 To shut her up in a sepulcher, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea. 
 
 The angels, not half so happy in heaven, 
 
 Went envying her and me 
 Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea), 
 That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 
 
 Chilling aud killing my Annabel Lee. 
 
 But our love it was stronger by far than the 
 love 
 
 Of those who were older than we 
 
 Of many far wiser than we 
 And neither the angels in heaven above, 
 
 Nor the demons down under the sea, 
 Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 
 
 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: 
 
 For the rnoou never beams, without bringing 
 
 me dreams 
 
 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee ; 
 And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright 
 
 eyes 
 
 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee : 
 And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by tl 
 
 side 
 Of my darling my darling my life and my 
 
 bride, 
 
 In her sepulcher there by the sea 
 In her tomb by the sounding sea. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 683 
 
 IN BLESSING THOU ART BLESSED. 
 
 "WILLIAM W. FOSDICK. 
 
 Born in Louisville, Kentucky, in 1824. 
 
 Freely give, for while bestowing 
 
 Angel eyes thy bounty mark, 
 And their seraph forms all glowing 
 
 Shall dispel the gloomy dark. 
 While the midnight forth is straying, 
 
 They shall guard thee in thy rest, 
 And shall whisper low in praying, 
 
 That in blessing thou art blessed. 
 
 When the bitter winter lingers, 
 
 And the friendless child is cold, 
 Let thy pity s rosy fingers 
 
 Drop the widow s mite of gold. 
 And when oft the spring recalling 
 
 Bids the swallow to her nest, 
 Joys, like blossoms around thee falling, 
 
 Prove iu blessing thou art blessed. 
 
 Canst thou dry the tear of sorrow *i 
 
 Canst thou make the sad one sing 1 
 0! the spirit of each morrow, 
 
 Will a brighter blessing bring. 
 Though the purse be all the poorer, 
 
 Thou art richer in the breast, 
 For on earth there s nothing truer 
 
 Than in blessing we are blessed. 
 
 THE HERITAGE. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 THE rich man s son inherits lands, 
 And piles of brick, and stone, and gold, 
 
 And he inherits soft white hands, 
 And tender flesh that fears the cold, 
 Nor dares to wear a garment old ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 
 
 The rich man s son inherits cares ; 
 
 The bank may break, the factory burn, 
 
 A breath may burst his bubble shares, 
 And soft white hands could hardly earn 
 A living that would serve his turn ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 
 
 The rich man s sou inherits wants, 
 His stomach craves for dainty fare : 
 
 With sated heart, he hears the pants 
 Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare, 
 And wearies in his easy chair ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 One scarce would wish to hold iu fee. 
 
 What doth the poor man s son inherit 1 
 Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, 
 
 A hardy frame, a hardier spirit ; 
 
 King of two hands, he does his part 
 In every useful toil and art ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee. 
 
 What doth the poor man s son inherit S 
 Wishes o eijdy d with humble things, 
 
 A rank adjudged by toil-won merit, 
 
 Content that from employment springs, 
 A heart that in his labor sings ; 
 
 A heritage it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee. 
 
 What doth the poor man s son inherit? 
 A patience learu d by being poor, 
 
 Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, 
 A fellow-feeling that is sure 
 To make the outcast bless his door; 
 
 A heritage it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee. 
 
 0, rich man s son ! there is a toil, 
 That with all others level stands ; 
 
 Large charity doth never soil, 
 
 But only whiten soft white hands 
 This is the best crop from thy lands ; 
 
 A heritage it seem to me, 
 
 O, poor man s sou, scorn not thy state ; 
 There is worse weariness than thine, 
 
 Iu merely being rich and great : 
 Toil only gives the soul to shine, 
 And makes rest fragrant and benign ; 
 
 A heritage it seems to me, 
 
 Worth being poor to hold in fee. 
 
 Both, heirs to some six feet of sod, 
 Are equal in the earth at last ; 
 
 Both, children of the same dear God, 
 Prove title to your heirship vast 
 By record of a well-fill d past ; 
 
 A heritage it seems to me, 
 
 Well worth a life to hold in fee. 
 
 ON LISTENING TO A CRICKET. 
 
 ANDREWS NORTON. 
 
 Born at Hingham, Massachusetts, in 1786- 
 Professor in Theological Department ia 
 Harvard Died in 1853. 
 
 I love, thou little chirping thing, 
 
 To hear thy melancholy noise ; 
 Though thou to Fancy s ear may sing 
 
 Of summer past and fading joys. 
 
 Thou canst not now drink dew from flowery 
 Nor sport along the traveler s path ; 
 
 But. through the winter s weary hours, 
 Shalt warm thee at my lonely hearth. 
 
 And when my lamp s decaying beam 
 But dimly shows the lettered page 
 
 Rich with some ancient poet s dream, 
 Or wisdom of a pure age 
 
csi 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Then will I listea to the sound, 
 And musing o er the embers pale 
 
 With whitening ashes strewed around, 
 The forms of memory unvail : 
 
 Recall the many-colored dreams 
 That fancy fondly weaves for youth. 
 
 When all the bright illusion seems 
 The pictured promises of Truth ; 
 
 Perchance observe the fitful light, 
 And its faint flashes round the room, 
 
 And think some pleasures feebly bright 
 May lighten thus life s varied gloom ; 
 
 I love the quiet midnight hour, 
 
 When (/are and Hope and Passion sleep, 
 And Reason with untroubled power 
 
 Can her late vigils duly keep. 
 
 I love the night ; and sooth to say, 
 Before the merry birds that sing 
 
 In all the glare and noise of day, 
 Prefer the cricket s grating wing 
 
 BALLAD. 
 
 EMMA C. EMBURY. 
 
 Daughter of a New York physician. First 
 appeared as an authoress in 1828. 
 
 The maiden sat at her busy wheel, 
 
 Her heart was light and free, 
 And ever in cheerful song broke forth 
 
 Her bosom s harmless glee : 
 Her song was in mockery of love, 
 
 And oft I heard her say, 
 "The gathered rose and the stolen heart 
 
 Can charm but for a day." 
 
 I looked on the maiden s rosy cheek, 
 
 And her lip so full and bright, 
 And I sighed to think that the traitor love 
 
 Should conquer a heart so light : 
 But she thought not of future days of woe, 
 
 While she caroled in tones so gay 
 "The gathered rose and the stolen heart 
 
 Can charm but for a day." 
 
 A year passed on. and again I stood 
 
 By the humble cottage door; 
 The maid sat at her busy wheel, 
 
 But her look was blithe no more; 
 The big tear stood in her downcast eye, 
 
 And with sighs I heard her say, 
 " The gathered rose and the stolen heart 
 
 Can charm but for a day." 
 
 0, well I knew what had dimmed her eye, 
 
 And made her cheek so pale : 
 The maid had forgotten her early song, 
 
 While she listened to love s soft tale ; 
 She had tasted the sweets of his poisoned cup, 
 
 It had wasted her life away 
 And the stolen heart, like the gathered rose, 
 
 Had charmed but for a day. 
 
 THE PARTING. 
 
 ANDREWS NORTON". 
 
 We did not part as others part ; 
 
 And should we meet on earth no more, 
 Yet deep and dear within my heart 
 
 Some thoughts will rest a treasured stove 
 
 How oft, when weary and alone, 
 
 Have I recalled each word, each look, 
 
 The meaning of each varying tone, 
 And the last parting glance we tcok ! 
 
 Yes. sometimes even here are found 
 
 Those who can touch the chords of love, 
 
 And wake a glad and holy sound, 
 Like that which fills the courts above 
 
 It is as when a traveler hears, 
 
 In a strange land, his native tongue, 
 
 A voice he loved in happier years, 
 A song which once his mother sung. 
 
 We part ; the sea may roll between, 
 
 While we through different climates roam 
 
 Sad days a life may intervene : 
 But we shall meet again at home. 
 
 THE BABE AND THE LILY. 
 
 JAMES \V. WARD. 
 PAUL. 
 
 See, Mary, in this golden sunset glow, 
 
 And flood of splendor, see 
 [low fair, of all the joyous flowers that blow 
 
 Blooms here, for you and me, 
 For you and me, dear Mary, day and night, 
 
 This lovely lily, robed in virgin white. 
 
 Vhat spotless beauty in its fragrant cup ; 
 
 And as it graceful bends 
 ts snowy kirtlc, as the breeze comes up, 
 
 Its dainty breath it blends. 
 ts breath it blends, dear Mary, with the 
 
 smell 
 Of flowery meadow, and dew-sprinkled dell. 
 
 Lightly, lift ligjitly, Paul, the vail that hides 
 
 As a soft cloud vails the sky, 
 Her who sleeps here, whose innocence divides 
 
 The love that you and I, 
 That you and I, dear Paul, owe one another 
 In future to be shared by this sweet other. 
 
 Plow tranquil, and how beautiful, the sleep 
 
 Of sinless infancy ! 
 And as in silence here our watch we keep, 
 
 I love to think that she, 
 To think that she, dear Paul, our little May, 
 Is like the lib bloom we saw to-day. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 6S5 
 
 The storm is over, Mary, and the breeze 
 Streams down the dripping vale, 
 
 And dies away iii murmuring melodies ; 
 But see, the wayward gale, 
 
 The wayward gale*, dear Mary, has laid low 
 
 Our beauteous lily, with its cheeks of suow. 
 
 A nd here, prostrate in sand and wet, it lies ; 
 
 Thus, beaten down and torn, 
 Fair nature s loveliness decays arid dies ; 
 
 But do not let us mourn, 
 Not mourn, dear Mary, since we know that 
 
 still 
 Our fairy lily lives, our hearts with joy to fill. 
 
 MARY. 
 Softly, tread softly, Paul, she sleeps again ; 
 
 So gently, and so deep, 
 I fear watching in silence here, that when 
 
 She next shall wake from sleep, 
 Shall next awake, dear Paul, her feet will 
 
 stand, 
 Sweet lily, planted on the better laud. 
 
 Tis over, now : our babe, like that frail 
 
 flower 
 
 The rude wind swept away, 
 Is dead ; but said you not that wind, and 
 
 shower, 
 
 Sickness, and death, obey, 
 Obey, dear Paul, the voice of Him who gives 
 Beauty, and life, aud sleep, to all that lives <i 
 
 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 
 
 HENRY \V. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 Under a spreading chesnut tree 
 
 The village smithy stands ; 
 The smith, a mighty man is he, 
 
 With large aud sinewy hands ; 
 And the muscles of his brawny arms 
 
 Are strong as iron bands. 
 
 His hair is crisp, and black, aud long ; 
 
 His face is like the tau ; 
 His brow is wet with honest sweat ; 
 
 He earns whate er he can, 
 And looks the whole world in the face, 
 
 Por he owes not auy man. 
 
 Week in, week out, from morn till night, 
 You can hear his bellows blow ; 
 
 You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, 
 \Vith measured beat and slow, 
 
 Like a sexton ringing the village bell 
 When the eveuiug sun is low. 
 
 And children coining home from school 
 
 Look in at the open door ; 
 They love to see the flaming forge, 
 
 And hear the bellows roar, 
 A lid catch the burning sparks that fly 
 
 Like chaff from a threshing-floor. 
 
 He goes on Sunday to the church, 
 
 And sits among his boys ; 
 He hears the parson pray and preach, 
 
 He hears his daughter s voice, 
 Singing in the village choir, 
 
 Aud it makes his heart rejoice. 
 
 It sounds to him like her mother s voice. 
 
 Singing in Paradise ! 
 He needs must think of her once more, 
 
 How in the grave she lies ; 
 And with his hard, rough hand he wipes 
 
 A tear out of his eyes. 
 
 Toiling rejoicing sorrowing 
 Onward through life he goes : 
 
 Each morning sees some task begun, 
 Each evening sees it close ; 
 
 Something attempted something done, 
 
 . Has earned a night s repose. 
 
 Thanks, thanks to thee. my worthy friend, 
 For the lesson thou hast taught ! 
 
 Thus at the naming forge of Life 
 Our fortunes must be wrought, 
 
 Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 
 Each burning deed and thought. 
 
 THE LITTLE GIRL UNDER THE 
 
 SNOW. 
 
 MARY LOUISA CHITWOOD. 
 
 A young lady of Mt. Carmel, Indiana, who 
 died in 156. " She possessed extraor 
 dinary genius. Her whole nature was 
 deeply and intensely poetical." 
 
 They are all asleep ; each curl-sweapt head 
 
 Rests on its pillow white : 
 I have stolen around to each quiet bed, 
 
 Again and again, to-night. 
 But now, as I sit in my old arm-chair, 
 
 In the firelight s golden glow, 
 My heart will go, in its mute despair, 
 
 To the little girl under the snow. 
 
 I dare not gaze out on the world to-night, 
 
 But I hear the loud winds roar; 
 I know the drifts are deep aud white 
 
 Around my cottage door. 
 I bend again o er each little bed, 
 
 Aud hear the breathings low 
 Of my sleeping babes but oh, the dead! 
 
 The little girl under the suow. 
 
 ! does she not start, in her dreamless sleep, 
 
 With a low, wild cry of fear i 
 Sometimes, I think I hear her weep, 
 
 With a mother s listening car. 
 Cold, cold is she in her shroud of white, 
 
 In the dismal grave so low : 
 I would she were here iu my arms to-night 
 
 The little girl under the suow. 
 
CS6 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Be still, my heart! In the Summer time 
 
 We laid her down to rest ; 
 We said she had gone to a fairer clime 
 
 She had gone to Jesus breast ; 
 That He, in His own dear love would keep 
 
 Her safe from another woe 
 O, should we not envy the dreamless sleep 
 
 Of the little girl under the snow "j 
 
 And hut for the living my tears should be, 
 
 As I think of my little band, 
 Scattered like blossoms on the sea, 
 
 When the tempest sweeps the land. 
 0, shield them, 1 ather, with Thine own love. 
 
 Wherever their feet may go. 
 And bring them safe to the home above, 
 
 Of the little girl under the suovv. 
 
 THE WAYSIDE SPRING. 
 
 THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. 
 
 Born in Chester County, Pa., in 1822. An 
 artist by pr " 
 Painter-Poet. 
 
 artist by profession, and called " the 
 
 PrvQt 
 
 Fair dweller by the dusty way 
 Bright saint within a mossy shrine, 
 
 The tribute of a heart to-day 
 Weary aud woru is thine. 
 
 The earliest blossoms of the year, 
 The sweet-brier and the violet 
 
 The pious hand of Spring has here 
 Upon thy altar set. 
 
 And not alone to thce is given 
 
 The homage of the pilgrim s knee 
 
 But oft the sweetest birds of Heaveu 
 Glide down and sing to thee. 
 
 Here daily from his beecheu cell 
 The hermit squirrel steals to drink, 
 
 And flocks which cluster to their bell 
 Recline along thy brink. 
 
 Aud here the wagoner blocks his wheels, 
 To quaff the cool and generous boon; 
 
 Here, from the sultry harvest fields 
 The reapers rest at noon. 
 
 And oft the beggar marked with tan, 
 In rusty garments grav with dust, 
 
 Here sits and dips his little can, 
 And breaks his scanty crust ; 
 
 And, lulled beside thy whispering stream, 
 Oft drops to slumber unawares, 
 
 And sees the angel of his dream 
 Upon celestial stairs. 
 
 Bear dweller by the dusty way, 
 Thou saint within a mossy shrine, 
 
 The tribute of a heart to-day 
 Weary and worn is thine! 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. 
 
 There is an hour of peaceful rest 
 To mourning wanderers given ; 
 There is a joy for souls distrest, 
 A balm for every wounded breast 
 Tis found alone, in heaven. 
 
 There is a home for weary souls, 
 
 By sin and sorrow driven : 
 When toss d on life s tempestuous shoals, 
 Where .storms arise, and ocean rolls, 
 
 And all is drear, but heaven. 
 
 There faith lifts up her cheerful eye, 
 
 To brighter prospects given, 
 And views the tempest passing by ; 
 The evening shadows quickly fly, 
 
 And all s serene, in heaven. 
 
 There, fragrant flowers immortal bloom, 
 
 And joys supreme are given ; 
 There, rays divine disperse the gloom 
 Beyond the confines of the tomb 
 Appears the dawn of heaven. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM -THE SONG OF 
 HIAWATHA." 
 
 H. \V. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 This much admired poem is founded on a tia- 
 dition prevalent among the North Ameri 
 can Indians of a personage of miraculous 
 birth, \vho was sent among them to clear 
 their rivers, forests and fishing-grounds, 
 and to teach them the arts of peace. He 
 was known among different tribes by 
 several names, one of which was Hiawatha. 
 Into this old tradition has been woven 
 many curious Indian legends. The scene 
 of the poem is among the Ojibwnys, on tha 
 southern shore of Lake Superior. 
 
 The first extract we make is the wooing of 
 AVabun. " Wabun. signifies, "the i <xst 
 Wind." and his bride, " W*bun Ann i % tg 
 " the Morning Star." 
 
 Young and beautiful was Wabun ; 
 He it was who brought the morning, 
 He it was whose silver arrows 
 Chased the dark o er hill and valley ; 
 He it was whose cheeks were painted 
 With the brightest streaks of crimson, 
 And whose voice awoke the village, 
 Called the deer, and called the hunter. 
 
 Lonely in the sky was Wabun; 
 Though the birds sang gayly to him, 
 Though the wild-flowers of the meadow 
 Filled the air with odors for him, 
 Though the forests aud the rivers 
 Sang and shouted at his corning, 
 Still his heart was sad within him, 
 For he was alone in heaveu. 
 
 But one morning, gazing earthward. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETKY. 
 
 GST 
 
 WLile the village still was sleeping, 
 A.nd the fog lay on the river, 
 Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 
 He beheld a maiden walking 
 All alone upon a meadow, 
 Gathering water-flags and rushes 
 By a river in the meadow. 
 
 E"ery morning, gazing earthward, 
 Still the first thing he beheld there 
 Was her blue eyes looking at him, 
 Two blue lakes among the rushes. 
 And he loved the lonely maiden, 
 Who thus waited for his coming ; 
 For they both were solitary. 
 She on earth and he in heaven. 
 
 And he wooed her with caresses, 
 Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, 
 With his flattering words he wooed her, 
 With his sighing and his singing, 
 Gentlest whispers in the branches, 
 Softest music, sweetest odors. 
 Till he drew her to his bosom, 
 Folded iu his robes of crimson, 
 Till into a star he changed her, 
 Trembling still upon his bosom ; 
 And for ever iu the heavens 
 They are seen together walking, 
 Wabun and the Wabun-Aunung, 
 Wahuu and the Star of Morning. 
 
 The chapter, "The Famine." begins with 
 this vivid picture of Winter: 
 
 the long and dreary Winter ! 
 the cold aud cruel Winter ! 
 Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
 Froze the ice on lake aud river, 
 Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 
 Fell the snow o er all the landscape, 
 "Fell the covering snow, aud drifted 
 Through the forest, round the village. 
 
 Hardly from his buried wigwam 
 Could the hunter force a passage ; 
 With his mittens and his snow-shoes 
 Vainly walked he through the forest, 
 Sought for bird or beast and found none, 
 Saw no track of deer or rabbit, 
 Iu the snow beheld uo foot-priuts, 
 In the ghastly, gleaming forest 
 Fell, and could not rise for weakness, 
 Perished there from cold and hunger. 
 
 the famine and the fever ! 
 the wasting of the famine! 
 the blasting of the fever ! 
 the wailing of the children! 
 the anguish of the women! 
 
 All the earth was sick and famished ; 
 Hungry was the air around them. 
 Hungry was the sky above them, 
 Aud the hungry stars in heaven 
 Like the eyes of wolves glared at them! 
 
 Into Hiawatha s wigwam 
 Came two other guests, as silent 
 
 IAs the ghosts were, and as gloomy, 
 ( Waited not to be invited, 
 i Did not parley at the doorway, 
 Sat there without word of welcome 
 In the seat of Laughing Water; 
 Looked with haggard eyes and hollow 
 At the face of Laughing Water. 
 
 Aud the foremost said: "Behold niel 
 Iain Famine, Bnkadawiu!" 
 And the other said : " Behold me ! 
 I am Fever, Ahkosevviu ! " 
 
 We ol^so with Hiawatha s vision A till 
 coming of the W hite Faces. 
 
 Only Hiawatha laughed not, 
 But he gravely spake and answered 
 To their jeering and their jesting : 
 True is all lagop tells us ; 
 I have seen it in a vision, 
 Seen the great canoe with pinions, 
 Seen the people with white faces, 
 Seen the coming of this bearded 
 People of the wooden vessel 
 From the regions of the morning, 
 From the shining land of W r abuu. 
 
 "Gitche Manito, the Mighty, 
 The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
 Sends them hither on his errand, 
 Sends them to us with his message. 
 Wheresoe er they move, before them 
 Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, 
 Swarms the bee, the honey-maker ; 
 Wheresoe er they tread, beneath them 
 Springs a flower unknown among us, 
 Springs the White-man s Foot in blossom 
 
 "Let us welcome, then, the strangers, 
 [lail them as our friends and brothers, 
 nd the heart s right hand of friendship 
 ive them when they corne to see us. 
 jitche Mauito, the Mighty, 
 Said this to me in my vision. 
 
 I beheld, too, in that vision, 
 All the secrets of the future, 
 Of the distant days that shall be. 
 
 beheld the westward marches 
 3f the unknown, crowded nations. 
 All the land was full of people, 
 Restless, struggling, toiling, striving, 
 Speaking many tongues, yet feeling 
 But one heart-beat iu their bosoms. 
 In the woodlands rang their axes. 
 Smoked their towns in all the valleys, 
 Over all the lakes aud rivers 
 Rushed their great canoes of thunder. 
 
 "Then a darker, drearier vision 
 Passed before me, vague and cloud-like j 
 I beheld our nations scattered, 
 All forgetful of my counsels, 
 Weakened, warring with each other; 
 Saw the remnants of our people 
 Sweeping westward, wild and woful, 
 Like the cloud-rack of a tempest, 
 Like the withered leaves of autumn 1 " 
 
CSS 
 
 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 THE FARMER SAT IN HIS EASY 
 CHAIR. 
 
 CHARLES G. EASTMAN. 
 
 Editor at Montpelier, Vermont in 1848 pub 
 lished a collection of poems. 
 
 The farmer sat iu his easy chair, 
 
 Smoking his pipe of clay, 
 While his hale old wife with busy care 
 
 Was clearing the dinner away ; 
 A sweet little girl with fine blue eyes 
 On her grandfather s knee was catching flies. 
 
 The old man laid his hand on her head, 
 
 With a tear ou his wrinkled face ; 
 He thought how often her mother, dead, 
 
 Had sat iu the self-same place : 
 As the tear stola down from his half-shut 
 
 eye 
 
 "Dou t smoke," said the child; "how it 
 makes you cry!" 
 
 The house-dog lay stretch d out on the 
 
 floor 
 Where the shade after noon used to 
 
 steal ; 
 
 The busy old wife by the open door 
 Was turning the spinning-wheel ; 
 And the old brass clock on the manteltree 
 Had plodded along to almost three : 
 
 Still the farmer sat in his easy chair, 
 
 While close to his heaving breast 
 
 The moisten d brow and cheek sc fair 
 
 Of his sweet grandchild were press d ; 
 His head, bent down, on her soft hair lav 
 Fast asleep were they both, that summer day. 
 
 ELLA. 
 
 JAMES W. WARD. 
 
 If your child, the gentle Ella, 
 Stood in rags, in dirt and patches ; 
 Had no dress, save one so tattered 
 
 You would blush to see her wear it ; 
 Had no shoes, and scarce a stocking 
 To her feet, frost-bit and bleeding, 
 As she, cold and houseless, wandered : 
 
 Tell me how your heart could bear it, 
 
 Should your Ella, child beloved, 
 Destitute and hungry beggar, 
 Beg a crust from Dives table, 
 
 Taste it not, but run to share it 
 Run in haste to share the morsel 
 With a feebler, suff ring sister, 
 Shivering iu some fire) ess hovel ; 
 
 Could you, unaffected, bear it <i 
 
 Should the child of your affection, 
 Your sweet Ella, pure and truthful, 
 Be exposed to lures and perils 
 That would craftily ensnare it, 
 
 By enticements gross and brutish, 
 Into vice and degradation. 
 Daily, in the streets aud by-ways ; 
 Think, O think, if you could beru 1 it. 
 
 But your Ella, has she-, think you, 
 Juster claims to be protected 
 From such wretchedness and ruin 
 
 Dares your selfish pride declare it i 
 Higher right to be exempted 
 From such peril and exposure, 
 Thau the thousand daily victims 
 
 That are helpless left to bear it <J 
 
 MY NATIVE LAND. 
 
 There lies my loved, my native land 
 A land with every gift replete 
 
 All perfect from its Maker s hand, 
 An empire s glorious seat ! 
 
 And far removed from thrones and slaves, 
 
 There Freedom s banner proudly waves. 
 
 The frigid aud the torrid clime, 
 
 The temperate and the genial beam; 
 
 The vale, the mountain -top sublime, 
 The arid plain, the swelling stream; 
 
 There linked in union s golden chain, 
 
 Bear witness to her vast domain. 
 
 Her mountains look o er realms serene, 
 O er waving fields and cities free; 
 
 And mightiest rivers roll between, 
 And bear her wealth from sea to sea: 
 
 While o er old Ocean s farthest deep 
 
 Her banner d navies proudly sweep. 
 
 On Plymouth s rock the pilgrim land?, 
 His comrades few, and faint with toil; 
 
 While warring tribes in countless bauds 
 Roam lawless o er the uncultur d soil. 
 
 A few brief years have rolled away, 
 
 And those dark warriors where a re they? 
 
 And where are those, the heroic few, 
 That landed on that rocky shore 1 
 
 Their voice still rings their spirit too 
 Still breathes, and will for evermore! 
 
 For in their sons still burn tho.^e fires 
 
 That freedom kindled in their sires. 
 
 Tis something though it be not fame, 
 To know we spring from noble race; 
 
 To feel no secret blush of shame 
 For those we love suffuse our face: 
 
 Then let us to our sous transmit 
 
 A land aud a name unsullied yet. 
 
 To us was left, in deathless trust, 
 A realm redeemed, a glorious name. 
 
 The ashes of the bra ve and just, 
 Fair ireedom aud immortal fame ! 
 
 Aud iu our hearts the courage dwells 
 
 Which human power with scorn, repels. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 689 
 
 We ve not to weep o er glory fled; 
 
 We ve not to brood o er servile wo; 
 We call not on the illustrious dead 
 
 To shield us from a living foe. 
 And should our pride be e er o erthrov. u, 
 be b native swords aloue. 
 
 The standard which our sires unfurled, 
 A ml which through peril s path they bore, 
 
 Now floats o er half the western world, 
 And waves on many a distant shore! 
 
 And long shall wave, triumphant, free, 
 
 O er dome and tower, o er land aud sea! 
 
 For me whatever be my fate, 
 Wherever cast my country still 
 
 Shall o er each thought predominate, 
 And through each pulse unceasing thrill. 
 
 My prayer, with life s last ebbing sand, 
 
 Shall be for thee, my native laud ! 
 
 YOUR PURSE AND HEART. 
 
 TV. D. GALLAGHER. 
 
 Open not your purse alone, 
 
 Its lucre to impart; 
 Of the two tis better far 
 
 You freely ope your heart. 
 That which wrings the bosom most, 
 
 Your money wont allay; 
 Sympathy s the sun that turns 
 
 Its darkness into day. 
 
 For the body, if ye will, 
 
 Your bread and broth still dole; 
 Love s the only nourishment 
 
 That satisfies the soul. 
 Gingling change like that ye give, 
 
 May please the baser part, 
 But kind and gentle words and looks 
 
 Aloue can reach the heart. 
 
 Warmth s not all the poor demand, 
 
 Nor shelter, nor yet food 
 Ye who pause, bestowing these, 
 
 Withhold the greater good. 
 What they want, and what require 
 
 All things else above, 
 Is kiiully interest in their fate, 
 
 Aud sympathy, and love. 
 
 POETRY. 
 
 JAMES G. PKRCIVAL. 
 
 The world is full of Poetry the air 
 
 Is living with its spirit ; and the waves 
 
 Ba~.;ce to the music of its melodies, 
 
 Aud sparkle in its brightness Earth is 
 
 vailed, 
 
 And mantled with its beauty ; and the walls, 
 That close the universe, with crystal, in, 
 Are eloquent with voices, that proclaim 
 
 The unseen glories of immensity, 
 In harmonies, too perfect, and too high 
 For aught, but beings of celestial mould, 
 And speak to man, in one eternal hymn, 
 Unfading beauty, and unyielding power. 
 
 THE FALL OF NIAGARA. 
 
 
 
 JOHN G. C. BRAINARD. 
 
 Born in Now London, Conn., in 1796, nnd 
 died in 1828. These," the most suggestive 
 and sublime stanzas upon Niagara that 
 were ever penned," were written by one 
 who had never been within five hundred 
 miles of the cataract. 
 
 The thoughts are strange that crowd into my 
 
 brain, 
 While 1 look upward to thee. It would 
 
 seem 
 As if GOD pour d thee from his "hollow 
 
 hand," 
 
 And hung his bow upon thine awful front ; 
 And spoke in that loud voice, which seem d 
 
 to him 
 
 Who dwelt iu Patmos for his Saviour s sake, 
 "The sound of many waters;" and had bade 
 Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, 
 And notch His centuries iu the eternal rocks. 
 
 Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we, 
 That hear the question of that voice sublimjs i 
 0! what are all the notes that ever rung 
 From war s vain trumpet, by thy thunder 
 ing side ! 
 
 Yea, whaif is all the riot man can make 
 In his short life, to thy unceasing roar ! 
 Aud yet. bold blabber, what art thou to Him 
 Who drowu d a world, and heaped the wa 
 ters far 
 
 Above its loftiest mountains 1 a light wave, 
 That breaks, and whispers of its Maker s 
 might. 
 
 HOME. 
 
 JAMES G. PERCIVAL. 
 
 My place is in the quiet vale, 
 
 The chosen haunt of simple thought; 
 I seek not fortune s flattering gale, 
 
 I better love the peaceful lot. 
 I leave the world of noise and show, 
 
 To wander by my native brook; 
 I ask, iu life s unruffled flow, 
 
 No treasure but my friend and book. 
 
 These better suit the tranquil home. 
 
 W here the clear water murmurs by; 
 Aud if I wish awhile to roam, 
 
 I have an ocean in the sky. 
 Fancy can charm and feeling bless 
 
 With sweeter hours than fashion knows, 
 There is no calmer quietness 
 
 Than home around the bosom throws. 
 
090 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 WILL THE NEW-YEAR COME TO-NIGHT, MAMMAS 
 
 CORA M. EAGER. 
 
 Will the New-Year come to-night, mamma ? I m tired of waiting so, 
 
 My stocking hung by the chimney-side full three long days ago ; 
 
 I run to peep within the door by morning s early light, 
 
 T is empty till oh, say, mamma, will the New-Year come to-night ? 
 
 Will the New- Year come to-night, mamma ? the snow is on the hill, 
 
 And the ice must be two inches thick upon the meadow s rill. 
 
 I heard you tell papa, last night, his son must have a sled, 
 
 (I didn t mean to hear, mamma), and a pair of skates, you said. 
 
 I prayed for just those things, mamma. I shall be full of glee, 
 And the orphan boys in the village school will all be envying mo ; 
 But I ll give them toys, and lend them books, and make their New-Year 
 
 glad, 
 For God, you say, takes back his gifts when little folks are bad. 
 
 And wont you let me go, mamma, upon the New-Year s day, 
 
 And carry something nice and warm to poor old widow Grny ? 
 
 I ll leave the basket near the door, within the garden gate. 
 
 Will the New- Year come to-night, mamma ? it seems so long to wait. 
 
 The New- Year comes to-night, mamma, I saw it in my sleep, 
 
 My stocking hung so full, I thought mamma, what makes you weep ? 
 
 But it only held a little shroud a shroud, and nothing more ; 
 
 And an open coffin, made for me, was standing on the floor ! 
 
 It seemed so very strange, indeed, to find such gifts, instead 
 
 Of all the toys I wished so much the story-books and sled. 
 
 But while I wondered what it meant, you came with tearful joy, 
 
 And said, " Thou lt find the New-Year first ; God calleth thee, my boy ! 
 
 It is not all a dream, mamma, I know it must be true ; 
 But have I been so bad a boy, God taketh me from you ? 
 I don t know what papa will do, when I am laid to rest 
 And you will have no Willie s head to fold upon your breast. 
 
 The New-Year comes to-night, mamma your cold hand on my cheek, 
 And raise my head a little more it seems so hard to speak ; 
 You needn t fill my stocking now, I cannot go and peep, 
 Before to-morrow s sun is up, I ll be so sound asleep. 
 
 I shall not want the skates, mamma, I ll never need the sled ; 
 But wont you give them both to Blake, who hurt me on my head ? 
 He used to hide my books away, and tear the pictures too, 
 But now he ll know that I forgive, as then I tried to do. 
 
 And, if you please, mamma, I d like the story-books and slate 
 To go to Frank, the drunkard s boy, you wouldn t let me hate ; 
 And, dear mamma, you wont forget, upon the New-Year s day, 
 The basketful of something nice for poor old widow Gray ? 
 
 The New-Year comes to-night, mamma it seems so very soon 
 I think God didn t hear me ask for just another June. 
 I know I ve been a thoughtless boy, and made you too much care, 
 And, maybe, for your sake, mamma, He doesn t hear my prayer. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 There s one thing more, my pretty pets, the robin and the dove, 
 
 keep for you and dear papa, and teach them how to love. 
 The garden rake, the little hoe you ll find them nicely laid 
 Upon the garret floor, mamma, the place where last I played. 
 
 1 thought to need them both so much when summer comes again 
 To make my garden by the brook that trickles through the glen; 
 I thought to gather flowers, too, beside the forest-walk, 
 
 And sit beneath the apple-tree where once we sat to talk. 
 
 It cannot be ; but you will keep the summer-flowers green, 
 And plant a few don t cry, mamma a very few, I mean, 
 Where I m asleep. I d sleep so sweet beneath the apple-tree, 
 Where you and robin, in the morn, may come and sing to me. 
 
 The New-Year comes good night, mamma "I lay me down to sleep, 
 
 I pray the Lord " tell poor papa "my soul to keep ; 
 
 If I how cold it seems how dark kiss me, I cannot see 
 
 The New- Year comes to-night, mamma, the old year dies with me. 
 
 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 
 
 SAMUEL WOOD-WORTH. 
 
 Born at Scituate, Massachusetts, in 1790 Bred a Printer, and edited a paper in New \ r ork- 
 
 Died in 1842. 
 
 How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, 
 
 When fond recollection presents them to view ! 
 The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, 
 
 And every loved spot which my infancy knew ! 
 The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, 
 
 The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell, 
 The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, 
 
 And e en the rude bucket that hung in the well 
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
 The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. 
 
 That moss-cover d vessel I hail d as a treasure, 
 
 For often at noon, when returned from the field, 
 I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, 
 
 The purest and sweetest that Nature can yield. 
 How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, 
 
 And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; 
 Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, 
 
 And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well 
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
 The moss-cover d bucket arose from the well. 
 
 How sweet from the green mossy brim to rc ceive it, 
 
 As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! 
 Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, 
 
 The brightest that beauty or revelry sips. 
 And now, far removed from the loved habitation, 
 
 The tear of regret will intrusively swell, 
 As fancy reverts to my father s plantation, 
 
 And sighs for the bucket that hangs in the well 
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, 
 The moss-cover d bucket that hangs in the well!. 
 44 
 
692 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 LOOK ALOFT. 
 
 JOXATHAN LAWRENCE. 
 
 Born in New York in 1807 Graduated at Columbia College Died in 1833. 
 
 In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale 
 Are around and above, if thy footing should fail, 
 If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution depart, 
 " Look aloft," and be firm, and be fearless of heart. 
 
 If the friend, who embraced in prosperity s glow, 
 With a smile for each joy and a tear for each wo, 
 Should betray thee when sorrows like clouds are array d, 
 " Look aloft " to the friendship which never shall fade. 
 
 Should the. visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye, 
 Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly, 
 Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret 
 " Look aloft " to the sun that is never to set. 
 
 Should they who are dearest, the son of thy heart, 
 The wife of thy bosom, in sorrow depart, 
 "Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the tomb, 
 To that soil where st affection is ever in bloom." 
 
 And, ! when death comes in his terrors, to cast 
 His fears on the future, his pall on the past, 
 In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy heart, 
 And a smile in thine eye, " look aloft," and depart ! 
 
 THANATOPSIS. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 Born in Cummington, Mass.. in 1794 Graduate of Williams College Editor of New York 
 Evening Post This noble poem a death hymn was written in his eighteenth year. 
 
 To him who in the love of Xature holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
 A various language ; for his gayer hours 
 She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
 And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
 Into his darker musings, with a mild 
 And healing sympathy, that steals away 
 Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts 
 Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 
 Over thy spirit, and sad images 
 Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
 And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
 Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart ; 
 Go forth, under the open sky, and list 
 To Nature s teachings, while from all around 
 Earth and her waters, and the depths of air, 
 Comes a still voice Yet a few days, and thee 
 The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
 In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, 
 Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. C93 
 
 Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 
 
 Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
 
 Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, 
 
 And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 
 
 Thine individual being, shalt thou go 
 
 To mix forever with the elements, 
 
 To be a brother to the insensible rock 
 
 And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 
 
 Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 
 
 Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. 
 
 Yet not to thine eternal resting-place 
 Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 
 Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
 With patriarchs of the infant world with kings, 
 The powerful of the earth the wise, the good, 
 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
 All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills 
 Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun the vales 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
 The venerable woods rivers that move 
 In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
 That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, 
 Old ocean s gray and melancholy waste 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 
 The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
 Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
 Through the still lapse of ages. AH that tread 
 The globe are but a handful to the tribes 
 That slumber in its bosom Take the wings 
 Of morning, traverse Barca s desert sands, 
 Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
 Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, 
 Save his own dashings yet the dead are there : 
 And millions in those solitudes, since first 
 The flight of years began, have laid them down 
 In their last sleep the dead reign there alone. 
 So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw 
 In silence from the living, and no friend 
 Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe 
 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
 When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
 Plod on, and each one as before will chase 
 His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave 
 Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, 
 And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
 Of ages glide away, the sons of men, 
 The youth in life s green spring, and he who goes 
 In the full strength of years, matron, and maid, 
 And the sweet babe, and the gray headed man 
 Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, 
 By those, who in their turn shall follow them. 
 
 So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, which moves 
 To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, 
 
694: SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 IT SNOWS 
 
 SARAH J. HALE. 
 
 Born about the beginning of this century, in Newport, N. H. In 1823, being left a widow 
 with five children, all under eight years of age, she turned her attention for their sup- 
 poit, to literature, in which she has gained eminence. 
 
 " It snows !" cries the school-boy " hurrah !" and his shout 
 
 Is ringing through parlor and hall, 
 While swift as the wing of a swallow, he s out, 
 
 And his playmates have answered his call. 
 It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy 
 
 Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow, 
 Like the rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy, 
 
 As he gathers the treasures of snow ; 
 Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs, 
 While health and the riches of Nature are theirs. 
 
 " It snows !" sighs the imbecile Ah !" and his breath 
 
 Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight ; 
 While from the parle aspect of Nature in death 
 
 He turns to the blaze of his grate : 
 And nearer, and nearer, his soft cushioned chair 
 
 Is wheeled tow rds the life-giving flame 
 He dreads a chill puff of the snow burdened air, 
 
 Lest it wither his delicate frame ; 
 Oh ! small is the pleasure existence can give, 
 When the fear we shall die only proves that wo live ! 
 
 "It srgnvs !" cries the traveler Ho !" and the word 
 Has quickened his steed s lagging pace ; 
 
 The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard, 
 Unfelt the sharp drift in his face ; 
 
 For bright through the tempest his own home appeared 
 Ay ! though leagues intervened, he can see 
 
 There s the clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared, 
 And his wife with their babes at her knee. 
 
 Blest thought ! how it lightens the grief -laden hour, 
 
 That those we love dearest are safe from its power s 
 
 " It snows !" cries the Belle Dear how lucky," and turns 
 
 From her mirror to watch the flakes fall ; 
 Like the first rose of summer, her dimpled cheek burns 
 
 While musing on sleigh-ride and ball : 
 There are visions of conquest, of splendor and mirth, 
 
 Floating over each drear winter s day ; 
 But the tintings of Hope, on this storm-beaten earth, 
 
 Will melt, like the snowflakes away : 
 Turn, turn thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss 
 That world has a fountain ne er opened in this. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 " It snows ! r cries the widow 0, God !" and her sighs 
 
 Have stifled the voice of her prayer, 
 Its burden ye ll read in her tear-swollen eyes, 
 
 On her cheek, sunk with fasting and care. 
 Tis night and her fatherless ask her for bread 
 
 But " He gives the young ravens their food," 
 And she trusts, till her dark hearth adds horror to dread, 
 
 And she laye on her last chip of wood. 
 Poor suff rer ! that sorrow thy God only knows 
 Tis a pitiful lot to be poor, when it snows ! 
 
 BLESSINGS ON CHILDREN. 
 
 WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS. 
 
 Born in Charleston, S. C., in 1806. 
 
 Blessings on the blessing children, sweetest gifts of Heaven to earth, 
 Filling all the heart with gladness, filling all the house with mirth ; 
 Bringing with them native sweetness, pictures of the primal bloom, 
 Which the bliss forever gladdens, of the region whence they come ; 
 Bringing with them joyous impulse of a state withouten care, 
 And a buoyant faith in being, which makes all in nature fair ; 
 Not a doubt to dim the distance, not a grief to vex thee, nigh, 
 And a hope that in existence finds each hour a luxury ; 
 Going, singing, bounding, brightening never fearing as they go, 
 That the innocent shall tremble, and the loving find a foe ; 
 bi the daylight, in the starlight, still with thought that freely flies, 
 Prompt and joyous, with no question of the beauty in the skies; 
 Genial fancies winning raptures, as the bee still sucks her store, 
 AK the present still a garden gleaned a thousand times before ; 
 All the future, but a region, where the happy serving thought 
 Still depicts a thousand blessings, by the winged hunter caught; 
 Like a chase where blushing pleasures only seem to strive in flight, 
 Lingering to be caught, and yielding gladly to the proud delight ; 
 As the maiden, through the alleys, looking backward as she flies, 
 Woos the fond pursuer onward, with the love-light in her eyes. 
 
 ! the happy life in children, still restoring joy to ours, 
 Making for the forest music, planting for the way-side flowers ; 
 Back recalling all the sweetness, in a pleasure pure as rare, 
 Back the past of hope and rapture bringing to the heart of care. 
 How, as swell the happy voices, bursting through the shady grove, 
 Memories take the place of sorrows, time restores the sway to love . 
 We are in the shouting comrades, shaking off the load of years, 
 Thought forgetting, strifes and trials, doubts and agonies and tears; 
 We are in the bounding urchin, as o er hill and plain he darts, 
 Svhare the struggle and the triumph, gladdening in his heart of hearts; 
 What an image of the vigor and the glorious grace we knew, 
 When to eager youth from boyhood, at a single bound we grew ! 
 Even such our slender beauty, such upon our cheek the glow, 
 In our eyes the life and gladness of our blood the overflow. 
 Bless the mother of the urchin ! in his form we see her truth : 
 He is now the very picture of the memories in our youth ; 
 Never can we doubt the forehead, nor the sunny flowing hair, 
 Nor the smiling in the dimole soeaking chin and cheek so fair : 
 
696 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Bless the mother of the young one, he hath blended in his #ace, 
 All the hope and joy and beauty, kindling once in either lace. 
 
 0! the happy faith of children I that is glad in all it sees, 
 And with never need of thinking, pierces still its mysteries, 
 In simplicity profoundest, in their soul abundance bfest, 
 Wise in value of the sportive, and in restlessness at rest , 
 - Lacking every creed, yet having faith so large in all they see, 
 That to know is still to gladden, and tis rapture but to be. 
 What trim fancies brinor them flowers ; what rare spirits walk their wood 
 What a wondrous world the moonlight harbors of the gay and good I 
 Unto them the very tempest walks in glories grateful still, 
 And the lightning gleams a seraph, to pursuade them to the hill : 
 Tis a sweet and loving spirit, that throughout the midnight rains, 
 Broods beside the shuttered windows, and with gentle love complains ; 
 And how wooing, how exalting, with the richness of her dyes, 
 Spans the painter of the rainbow, her bright arch along the skie&, 
 With a dream like Jacob s ladder, showing to the fancy s sight, 
 How twere easy for the sad one to escape to worlds of light ! 
 Ah ! the wisdom of such fancies, and the truth in every dream, 
 That to faith confiding offers, cheering every gloom, a gleam . 
 Happy hearts, still cherish fondly each delusion of your youth, 
 Joy is born of well believing, and the fiction wraps the truth. 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, 
 
 Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. 
 
 Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; 
 
 They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit s tread. 
 
 The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay. 
 
 And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. 
 
 Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood 
 
 In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? 
 
 Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers 
 
 Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. 
 
 The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain 
 
 Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. 
 
 The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, 
 
 And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow ; 
 
 But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, 
 
 And the yellow sun-flowers by the brook in autumn beauty stood, 
 
 Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as. falls the plague on men, 
 
 And the brightness of their smile was gone t from upland, glade, and glen. 
 
 And now. when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, 
 
 To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home : 
 
 When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still 
 
 And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, 
 
 The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore, 
 
 And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more. 
 
 And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, 
 
 The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side * 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 697 
 
 In the cold moist earth we laid her when the forests cast the leaf, 
 And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: 
 Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, 
 So entle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. 
 
 SEASONS OF PRAYER. 
 
 REV. HENRY WARE, D.D. 
 
 Born in Hingham, Mass. Professor in the Theological Department of Harvard University 
 
 Died in 1843. 
 
 To prayer, to prayer for the morning breaks, 
 And earth in her Maker s smile awakes. 
 His light is on all below and above, 
 The light of gladness, and life, and love. 
 O, then, on the breath of this early air, 
 Send up the incense of grateful prayer. 
 
 To prayer for the glorious sun is gone, 
 
 And the gathering darkness of night comes on. 
 
 Like a curtain from GOD S kind hand it Hows, 
 
 To shade the couch where his children repose. 
 
 Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright, 
 
 And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night. 
 
 To prayer for the day that GOD has bless d 
 Comes tranq.uilly on with its welcome rest. 
 It speaks of creation s early bloom ; 
 It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb. 
 Then summon the spirit s exalted powers, 
 And devote to Heaven the hallow d hours. 
 
 There are smile and tears in the mother s e3 7 es, 
 
 For her new-born infant beside her lies. 
 
 O, hour of bliss ! when the heart o erflows 
 
 With rapture a mother onl} knows. 
 
 Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer; 
 
 Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care. 
 
 There are smiles and tears in that gathering band, 
 Where the heart is pledged with the trembling 1 hand, 
 What trying thoughts in her bosom swell, 
 As the bride bids parents and home farewell! 
 Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair, 
 And strenghten the perilous hour with prayer. 
 
 Kneel down by the dying sinner s side, 
 And pray for his soul through Him who died. 
 Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow 
 0, what is earth and its pleasures now ! 
 And what shall assuage his dark despair, 
 But the penitent cry of humble prayer ! 
 
 Kneel down at the couch of departing faith, 
 And hear the last words the believer saith. 
 He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends ; 
 There is peace in his eye that upward bends ; 
 
698 SELECT AMERICAN POET11Y. 
 
 There is peace in his calm, confiding air ; 
 
 For his last thoughts are GOD S, his last words prayer. 
 
 The voice of prayer at the sable bier ! 
 
 A voice to sustain, to soothe and to cheer. 
 
 It commends the spirit to GroD who gave ; 
 
 It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave ; 
 
 It points to the glory where he shall reign, 
 
 Who whisper d, " Thy brother shall rise again." 
 
 The vdice of prayer in the world of bliss ! 
 But gladder, purer, than rose from this. 
 The ransom d shout to their glorious King, 
 Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing ; 
 But a sinless and joyous song they raise ; 
 And their voice of prayer is eternal praiso. 
 
 Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength 
 
 To join that holy band at length. 
 
 To Him who unceasing love displays, 
 
 Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise, 
 
 To Him thy heart and thy hours be given ; 
 
 For a life of prayer is the life of heaven. 
 
 THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 
 
 FRANCIS SCOTT KEY. 
 
 lawyer of Baltimore, vrho was temporarily a prisoner on board of one of the British ?hipi 
 in the war of 1812, at the time of the bombardment of Fort McHenry. " He watched the 
 flag over the fort the whole day with intense anxiety, and in the night the bombshells; 
 but he saw at dawn the star-spangled banner still waving over the defenders. Tba 
 following song was partly composed before he was set at liberty." He died in 1843. 
 
 ! say can you see by the dawn s early light, 
 
 What so proudly we hailed at the twilight s last gleaming 
 Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, 
 
 O er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! 
 And the rocket s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 
 Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there ; 
 0! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
 O er the land of the free, and the home of the brave ! 
 
 On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, 
 Where the foe s haughty host in dread silence reposes, 
 What is that which the breeze, o er the towering steep, 
 
 As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses 1 
 Now it catches the gleam of the morning s first beam, 
 In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream ; 
 Tis the star-spangled banner, long may it wave 
 O er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 
 
 And where is that band who so vauntingly swore 
 That the havoc of war and the battle s confusion 
 
 A home and a country should leave us no more 1 
 
 Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps pollution. 
 
 No refuge could save the hireling and slave 
 
 From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave ; 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 699 
 
 And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave 
 O er the land of the free, and the home of the brave. 
 
 0! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand 
 
 Between their loved homes and the war s desolation, 
 Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven rescued land 
 
 Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation. 
 Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, 
 And this be our motto "In God is our trust" 
 And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
 O er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 
 
 AN EVENING RE VERY. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 The summer day is closed the sun is set : 
 Well they have done their office, those bright hours, 
 The latest of whose train goes softly out 
 In the red West. The green blade of the ground 
 Has risen, and herds have cropped it ; the young twig 
 Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun ; 
 Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown 
 And withered ; seeds have fallen upon the soil, 
 From bursting cells, and in their graves await 
 Their resurrection. Insects from the pools 
 Have filled the air awhile with humming wings, 
 That now are still forever; painted moths 
 Have wandered the blue sky, and died again ; 
 The mother-bird hath broken for her brood 
 Their prison shell, or shoved them from the nest, 
 Plumed for their earliest flight. In bright alcoves, 
 In woodland cottages with barky walls, 
 In noisome cells of the tumultuous town, 
 Mothers have elapsed with joy the new-born babe. 
 Graves by the lonely forest, by the shore 
 Of rivers and of ocean, by the ways 
 Of the thronged city, have been hollowed out 
 And filled, and closed. This day hath parted friends 
 That ne er before were parted ; it hath knit 
 New friendships ; it hath seen the maiden plight 
 Her faith, and trust her peace to him who long 
 Had wooed : and it hath heard, from lips which late 
 Were eloquent with love, the first harsh word, 
 That told the wedded one her peace was flown. 
 Farewell to the sweet sunshine! One glad day 
 Is added now to Childhood s merry days, 
 And one calm day to those of quiet Age. 
 Still the fleet hours run on ; and as I lean, 
 Amid the thickening darkness, lamps are lit, 
 By those who watch the dead, and those who twine 
 Flowers for the bride. The mother from the eyes 
 Of her sick infant shades the painful light, 
 And sadly listens to his quick-drawn breath. 
 
 thou great Movement of the Universe, 
 Or Change, or Flight of Time for ye are one 
 
700 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 That bearest, silently, this visible scene 
 
 Into night s shadow and the streaming rays 
 
 Of starlight, whither art thou hearing me ? 
 
 I feel the mighty current sweep me on, 
 
 Yet know not whither. Man foretells afar 
 
 The courses of the stars ; the very hour 
 
 He knows when they shall darken or grow bright : 
 
 Yet doth the eclipse of Sorrow and of Death 
 
 Come unforwarned. Who next, of those I love, 
 
 Shall pass from life, or sadder yet shall fall 
 
 From virtue ? Strife with foes, or bitterer strife 
 
 With friends, or shame and general scorn of men 
 
 Which who can bear ? or the fierce rack of pain, 
 
 Lie they within my path ? Or .shall the years 
 
 Push rue, with soft and inoffensive pace, 
 
 Into the stilly twilight of my age ? 
 
 Or do the portals of another life 
 
 Even now, while I am glorying in my strength, 
 
 Impend around me ? ! beyond that bourne, 
 
 In the vast cycle of being which begins 
 
 At that broad threshold, with what fairer forms 
 
 Shall the great law of change and progress clothe 
 
 Its workings ? Gently so have good men taught 
 
 Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide 
 
 Into tliO new; the eternal flow of things, 
 
 Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, 
 
 Shall journey onward in perpetual peace. 
 
 THE INDEPENDENT FARMER. 
 
 MKS. SUSANNA ROWSON. 
 
 When the bonny gray morning just peeps from the skies, 
 And the lark mounting tunes her sweet lav; 
 
 With a mind unincumbered by care I arise, 
 My spirits, light, airy, and gay. 
 
 I take up my gun ; honest Tray, my good friend, 
 Wags his tail and jumps sportively round ; 
 
 To the woods then together our footsteps we bend, 
 Tis tli ere health and pleasure are found. 
 
 I snuff the fre<h air; bid defiance to care, 
 
 As happy as mortal can be ; 
 From the toils of the great, ambition and state, 
 
 Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 
 
 At noon, I delighted range o er the rich soil, 
 
 And nature s rough children regale : 
 With a cup of good home-brew d I sweeten their toil, 
 
 And laugh at the joke or the tale. 
 
 And whether the ripe waving corn I behold, 
 
 Or the innocent tiock meet my sight ; 
 Or the orchard, whose fruits is just turning to gold, 
 
 Still, still health and pleasure unite. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 701 
 
 I snuff the fresh air; bid defiance to care, 
 
 As happy ns mortal can be ; 
 From the toils of the great, ambition and state, 
 
 Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 
 
 At night to my lowly roof d cot I return, 
 
 When oh, what new sources of bliss ; 
 My children rush out, while their little hearts burn, 
 
 Each striving to gain the first kiss. 
 
 My Dolly appears with a smile on her face, 
 Good humor presides at our board ; 
 
 What more than health, plenty, good humor, ana peace, 
 Can the wealth of the Indies afford ? 
 
 I sink into rest, with content in my breast, 
 
 As happy as mortal can be ; 
 From the toils of the great, and ambition and state. 
 
 Tis my pride and my boast to be free. 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE OYSTERMAN. 
 
 O. W. HOLMES. 
 
 It was a tall young oysterman lived by the river side, 
 His shop was just upon the bank his boat was on the tide 
 The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straight and slim, 
 Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to him. 
 
 It was the pensive o}-sterman that saw a lovely maid, 
 
 Upon a moonlight evening, a sitting in the shade ; 
 
 He saw her wave her handkerchief, as much as if to say, 
 
 " I m wide awake, young oysterman, and all the folks away." 
 
 Then up arose the oysterman, and to himself saicl he, 
 
 "I guess I ll leave the skiff at home for fear that folks should sec; 
 
 I read it in the story-book, that for to kiss his dear, 
 
 Leander swam the Hellespont and I will swim this here." 
 
 And he has leaped into the waves, and crossed the shining stream, 
 And he has clambered up the bank, all in the moonlight gleam ; 
 there were kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as rain, 
 But they have heard her father s step, and in he leaps again ! 
 
 Out spake the ancient fisherman, <; what was tnat, my daughter ?" 
 " T was nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water !" 
 "And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so fast ?" 
 "It s nothing but a porpoise, sir, that s been a swimming past." 
 
 Out spake the ancient fisherman, "Now bring me my harpoon ; 
 
 I ll get into my fishing boat, and fix the fellow soon ; 
 
 Down fell that pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb, 
 
 Her hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like sea -weed on a clam. 
 
 Alas, for two loving ones ! she waked not from her swound, 
 And he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was drowned : 
 But Fate has metamorphosed them, in pity of their wo, 
 And now they keep an oyster-shop for mermaids dowu below. 
 
702 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 SWEET HOME. 
 
 OHN HOWARD PAYNE. 
 
 Born in New York in 1792 His career as an actor and dramatist was remarkable He died 
 while U. S. Consul at Tunis, in 1P52. "As a poet he will be known only by a single 
 song." and by this for all time. " Home, Sweet Home " is from an opera, called " Clari ; 
 or, The Maid of Milan." It was written by him for Charles Kemble, manager of Covent 
 Garden Theater, London. The opera made the fortune of every one prominently con 
 nected with it, except the author, who received only thirty pounds. "It gained for Miss 
 M. Tree, the elder sister of Mrs. Charles Kean who first sang, Home, Sweet Home a 
 ivcalthy husband, and filled the house and the treasury." 
 
 Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 
 
 B<? it ever so humble, there s no place like home ! 
 
 A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, 
 
 Which seek through the world, is ne er met with elsewhere. 
 
 Home! home, sweet home ! 
 
 There s no place like home ! 
 
 An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain ; 
 
 O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again, 
 
 The birds singing gayly that come at my call : 
 
 Give me these, and the peace of mind, dearer than all. 
 
 Plome ! sweet, sweet home ! 
 
 There s no place like home ! 
 
 BROTHER, COME HOME. 
 
 MKS. CATHERINE H. ESLINO. 
 
 Born in Philadelphia, in the year 1812. 
 
 Come home, 
 
 Would I could send my spirit o er the deep, 
 Would I could wing it like a bird to thee, 
 To commune with thy thoughts, to fill thy sleep 
 With these unwearying words of melody : 
 Brother, come home. 
 
 Come home, 
 Come to the hearts that love thee, to the eyes 
 
 That beam in brightness but to gladden thine, 
 Come where fond thoughts like holiest incense riso 
 Where cherish d memory rears her altar s shrine 
 Brother, come home. 
 
 Come home, 
 Come to the hearth-stone of thy earlier days, 
 
 Come to the ark, like the o er-wearied dove, 
 Come with the sunlight of thy heart s warm rays, 
 Come to the fire-side circle of thy love : 
 Brother, come home. 
 
 ome home, 
 It is not home without thee ; the lone seat 
 
 It is still unclaim d where thou were wont to be, 
 In every echo of returning feet, 
 
 In vain we list for what should herald thee : 
 Brother come home. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 703 
 
 p 
 
 Come home, 
 We ve nursed for thee the sunny buds of spring, 
 
 WatchM every germ the full-blown flowers rear, 
 Seen o er their bloom the chilly winter bring 
 Its icy garlands, and thou art not here ; 
 Brother, come home. 
 
 Come home, 
 Would I could send my spirit o er the deep, 
 
 Would I could wing it like a bird to thee 
 To commune with thy thoughts, to fill thy sleep 
 With these unwearing words of melody; 
 Brother, come home. 
 
 THE GLADNESS OP NATURE. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, 
 
 When our mother Nature laughs around ; 
 
 When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 
 And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? 
 
 There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
 And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; 
 
 The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den. 
 And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 
 
 The clouds are at play in the azure space, 
 
 And their shadows at play on the bright green vale, 
 
 And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
 And here they roll on the asy gale. 
 
 There s a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, 
 There s a titter of winds in that beechen tree, 
 
 There s a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 
 And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 
 
 And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
 On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 
 
 On the leaping waters and gay young isles ; 
 Ay, look, and he ll smile thy gloom away. 
 
 ROOM, BOYS, ROOM. 
 
 CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN. 
 
 Born in the City of New York in 180G. 
 
 There was an old hunter encamped down by the rill, 
 
 Who fished in this water, and shot on that hill. 
 
 The forest for him had no danger nor gloom, 
 
 For all that he wanted was plenty of room ! 
 
 Sa}"S he, " The world s wide, there is room for us all , 
 
 Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
 
 Room, boys, room, by the light of the moon, 
 
 For why shouldn t every man enjoy his own room ?" 
 
704 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 He wove his own nets, and his shanty was spread 
 With the skins he had dressed and stretched out overhead 
 Fresh branches of hemlock made fragrant the floor, 
 For his bed, as he sung when the daylight was o er, , 
 "The world s wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
 Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
 Room, boys, room," etc. 
 
 That spring now half choked by the dust of the road, 
 Under boughs of old maples once limpidly flowed ; 
 By the rock whence it bubbles his kettle was hung, 
 Which their sap often filled while the hunter he sung, 
 " The world s wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
 Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
 Room, boys, room," etc. 
 
 And still sung the hunter when one gloomy day, 
 He saw in the forest what saddened his lay 
 A heavy wheeled wagon its black rut had made, 
 Where fair grew the greensward in broad forest glade 
 " The world s wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
 Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
 
 Room, boys, room," etc. 
 i 
 
 He whistled to his dog, and says he, " We can t stay ; 
 I must shoulder my rifle, up traps, and away ;" 
 Next day, mid those maples the settler s ax rung, 
 While slowly the hunter trudged off us he sung, 
 " The world s wide enough, there is room for us all ; 
 Room enough in the greenwood, if not in the hall. 
 
 Room, boys, room," etc. 
 
 INDIAN DEATH-SONG. 
 
 PHILIP FREXEAU. 
 
 Born in New York in 1752, and educated at Princeton Died in 1632 He Tvas the most 
 noted of the song-writers of the Revolution. 
 
 The sun sets at night and the stars shun the day, 
 But glory remains when their lights fade away. 
 Begin, ye tormentors ! your threats are in vain, 
 For the son of Alknomock can never complain. 
 
 Remember the woods where in ambush he laj r , 
 And the scalps which he bore from your nation away. 
 Why do ye delay ? till I shrink from my pain ? 
 Know the son of Alknomock can never complain. 
 
 Remember the arrows he shot from his bow ; 
 Remember your chiefs by his hatchet laid low. 
 The flame rises high you exult in my pain ! 
 But the son of Alknomock will never complain. 
 
 I go to the land where my lather has gone ; 
 
 His ghost shall exult in the fame of his son. 
 
 Death comes like a friend ; he relieves me from pain, 
 
 And thy son, oh Alknomock ! has scorned to complain* 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 70, 
 
 THE RAVEN. 
 
 EDGAR ALE.AN POE. 
 
 Born in Baltimore, or vicinity, in 1811 Died in 1849. 
 
 Onco upon a midnight dreary, while I ponder d weak and weary, 
 Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, 
 
 While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
 As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 
 " Tis some visitor," I mutter d. tapping at my chamber door 
 Only this, and nothing more." 
 
 Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, 
 
 And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 
 
 Eagerly I wished the morrow vainly I had sought to borrow 
 From my books surcease of sorrow sorrow for the lost Lenore 
 For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore 
 Nameless here for evermore. 
 
 And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 
 Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before 
 
 So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating 
 " Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door 
 Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door 
 This it is, and nothing more." 
 
 Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, 
 "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore : 
 
 "But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, 
 And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 
 That I scarce was sure I heard you" here I opened wide the door 
 Darkness there, and nothing more. 
 
 Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, 
 Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ; 
 
 But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, 
 
 And the only \vord there spoken was the whispered word, " Lenore !" 
 This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore !" 
 Merely this, and nothing more. 
 
 Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, 
 Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before. 
 
 "Surely," said I, " surely that is something at my window lattice; 
 Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore 
 Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore 
 Tis the wind and nothing more !" 
 
 Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 
 In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore ; 
 
 Not the least obeisance made he ; not an instant stopped or stay.ed he ; 
 But, with mien of lord or lad} 7 , perched above my chamber door 
 Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door 
 Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 
 
 Then this bony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 
 By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, 
 
 11 Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven 
 Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore 
 Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night s Plutonian shore !" 
 Quoth the raven " Nevermore." 
 
706 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, 
 Though its answer little meaning little relevancy bore ; 
 
 For we cannot help agreeing that n6 living human being 
 
 Ever yet was blessed with seeing oird above his chamber door 
 Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, 
 With such a name as "Nevermore." 
 
 But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 
 That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 
 
 Nothing further then he uttered not a feather then he fluttered 
 
 Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before- 
 On the morrow HE will leave me, as my hopes have flown before/ 
 Then the bird said "Nevermore." 
 
 Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
 
 "Doubtless," said I, " what it utters is its only stock and store 
 
 Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster 
 
 Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore 
 Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 
 Of * Never nevermore. " 
 
 But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, 
 
 Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door ; 
 
 Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
 
 Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore 
 What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore 
 Meant in croaking "Nevermore." 
 
 This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 
 
 To the fowl whose tiery eyes now burned into my bosom s core : 
 
 This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining 
 On the cushion s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o er, 
 But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o er, 
 SHE shall press, ah, nevermore ! 
 
 Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 
 
 Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 
 "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee by these angels he hath sent 
 
 thee 
 
 Respite respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! 
 Quaff, oh quaff, this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore !" 
 Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 
 
 "Prophet !" said I, " thing of evil prophet still, if bird or devil 
 Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, 
 
 Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted 
 On this home by Horror haunted tell me truly, I implore 
 Is there is there b alm in Gilead ? tell me tell me, I implore !" 
 Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." 
 
 " Prophet !" said I, " thing of evil prophet still, if bird or devil ! 
 By that Heaven that bends above us by that God we both adore 
 
 Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, 
 It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore 
 Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." 
 Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 
 
 " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend !" I shrieked, upstarting 
 
 " Get thee back into the tempest and the Night s Plutonian shore ! 
 Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! 
 
SELECT AMEKICAN POETEY. 707 
 
 Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door ! 
 Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door I" 
 Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 
 
 And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
 On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; 
 
 And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon s that is dreaming, 
 
 And the lamplight o er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
 And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 
 Shall be lifted nevermore 
 
 PAPER. 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 Born in 1706 Died in 1790. 
 
 Some wit of old such wits of old there were 
 Whose hints showed meaning, whose allusions care, 
 By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
 Called clear blank paper every infant mind, 
 Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
 Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 
 
 The thought was happy, pertinent and true ; 
 Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 
 1 can you pardon my presumption ? I, 
 No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 
 
 Various the papers various wants produce 
 The wants of fashion, elegance, and use ; 
 Men are as various ; and, if right I scan, 
 Each sort of PAPER represents some MAN. 
 
 Pray, note the fop half powder and half lace- 
 Nice as a bandbox were his dwelling place ; 
 He s the GILT PAPER which apart you store, 
 And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutoire. 
 
 Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, 
 Are COPY PAPER, of inferior worth ; 
 Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
 Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. 
 
 The wretch whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, 
 Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
 Is coarse BROWN PAPER ; such as pedlers choose 
 To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 
 
 Take next the miser s contrast, who destroys 
 Health, fame and fortune, in a round of joys. 
 Will any paper match him ? Yes, throughout, 
 lie s a true SINKING PAPER, past all doubt. 
 
 The retail politician s anxious thought 
 Deems THIS side always right, and THAT stark naught; 
 He foams with censure with applause he raves-* 
 A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves : 
 He ll want no type his weakness to proclaim, 
 While such a thin<r as FOOLS-CAP has a name. 
 45 
 
708 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 The hasty gentleman whose blood runs high, 
 Who picks a quarrel, if you step awry, 
 Who can t a jest, or hint, or look endure : 
 What is he ? What ? TOUCH PAPER to be sure. 
 
 What are the poets, take them as they fall, 
 Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all ? 
 Them and their works in the same class you ll find ; 
 They are the mere WASTE PAPER of mankind. 
 
 Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
 She s fair WHITE PAPER, an unsullied sheet ; 
 On which the happy man, whom fate ordains, 
 May write his NAME, and take her for his pains. 
 
 One instance more, and only one, I ll bring ; 
 Tis the GREAT MAN, who scorns a little thing 
 Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his own, 
 Formed on the feelings of his heart alone : 
 True, genuine ROYAL PAPER is his breast ; 
 Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best 
 
 "WHAT IS THAT, MOTHERS" 
 
 REV. GEO. W. DOANE. 
 
 Born in 1799 at Trenton Bishop of the Diocese of New Jersey. 
 
 What is that, Mother ? The lark, my child ! 
 The morn has but just look d out, and smiled, 
 When he starts from his humble grassy nest, 
 And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, 
 And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, 
 To warble it out in his Maker s ear. 
 
 Ever, my child, be thy morn s first lays 
 Tuned, like the lark s, to thy Maker s praise. 
 
 What is that, Mother ? The dove my son ! 
 And that low, sweet voice, like a widow s moan, 
 Is flowing out from her gentle breast, 
 Constant and pure, by that lonely nest, 
 As the wave is pour d from some crystal urn, 
 For her distant dear one s quick return : 
 Ever, my son, be thou like the dove, 
 In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. 
 
 What is that, Mother ? The eagle, boy ! 
 Proudly careering his course of joy ; 
 Firm, on his own mountain vigor relying, 
 Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying, 
 His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, 
 He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on. 
 Boy, may the eagle s flight ever be thine, 
 Onward, and upward, and true to the line. 
 
 What is that, Mother ? The swan, my love ! 
 He is floating down from his native grove, 
 No loved one now, no nestling nigh, 
 He is floating down by himself to die ; 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 709 
 
 Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, 
 
 Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings. 
 
 Live so, my love, that when death shall come, 
 Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home. 
 
 THE FROST. 
 
 MISS HANNAH FLAGG G00LD. 
 
 Born in Lancaster Vermont First appeared as an authoress in 1832. 
 
 The Frost looked forth one still clear night, 
 And whispered, "now I shall be out of sight, 
 So through the valley and over the height, 
 
 In silence I ll take my way. 
 I will not go on like that blustering train, 
 The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, 
 Who make so much bustle and noise in vain, 
 -* But I ll be as busy as they !" 
 
 Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest 
 He lit on the trees, and their boughs he drest 
 In diamond beads and over the breast 
 
 Of the quivering lake, he spread 
 A coat of mail, that it need not fear 
 The downward point of many a spear. 
 That he hung on its margin, far and near, 
 
 Where a rock could rear its head. 
 
 He went to the windows of those who slept, 
 And over each pane, like a fairy, crept : 
 Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, 
 
 By the light of the morn were seen 
 Most beautiful things ; there were flowers and trees, 
 There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees ; 
 There were cities with temples and towers ; and theso 
 
 All pictured in silver sheen ! 
 
 But he did one thing that was hardly fair 
 He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there 
 That all had forgotten for him to prepare, 
 
 "Now, just to set them a-thinking, 
 I ll bite this basket of fruit," said he, 
 "This costly pitcher I ll burst in three ; 
 And the glass of water they ve left for me 
 
 Shall tchick ! to tell them I m drinkino- !" 
 
 CONSOLATION OF RELIGION TO THE POOR. 
 
 JAS. G. PERCIVAL. 
 
 There is a mourner, and her heart is broken ; 
 She is a widow ; she is old and poor : 
 Her only hope is in the sacred token 
 Of peaceful happiness when life is o er. 
 She asks not wealth nor oleasure begs no more 
 
710 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Than Heaven s delightful volume, and the sight 
 
 Of her Redeemer. Skeptics, would you pour 
 
 Your blasting vials on her head and blight 
 
 Sharon s sweet rose, that blooms and charms her being s night ? 
 
 She lives in her affections ; for the grave 
 Has clos d upon her husband, children ; all 
 Her hopes are with the arm she trusts will save 
 Her treasur d jewels ; though her views are small, 
 Though she has never mounted high to fall 
 And writhe in her debasement, yet the spring 
 Of her meek, tender feelings, cannot pall 
 Upon her unperverted palate, but will bring 
 A joy without regret, a bliss that has no sting. 
 
 Even as a fountain, whose unsullied wave 
 Wells in the pathless valley, flowing o er 
 With silent waters, kissing as they lave 
 The pebbles with light rippling, and the shore 
 Of matted grass and flowers ; so softly pour 
 The breathings of her bosom, when she prays, 
 Low-bow d before her Maker ; then, no more 
 She muses on the griefs of former days ; 
 Her full heart melts and flows in Heaven s dissolving rays. 
 
 And faith can see a new world, and the eyes 
 Of saints look pity on her. Death will come : 
 A few short moments over, and the prize 
 Of peace eternal waits her, and the tomb 
 Becomes her fondest pillow : all its gloom 
 Is scatter d. What a meeting there will be 
 To her and all she lov d while here ! and the bloom 
 Of new life from those cheeks shall never flee 
 There is the health which lasts through all eternity. 
 
 ABSALOM. 
 
 NATHANIEL P. WILLIS. 
 
 Born in 1807 in Portland, Maine. 
 
 The waters slept. Night s silvery vail hung low 
 On Jordan s bosom, and the eddies curl d 
 Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, 
 Unbroken beating of the sleeper s pulse. 
 The reeds bent down the stream ; the willow leaves, 
 With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, 
 Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems, 
 Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, 
 Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way, 
 And lean d, in graceful attitudes, to rest. 
 How strikingly the course of nature tells, 
 By its light heed of human suffering, 
 That it was fashion d for a happier world I 
 
 King David s limbs were weary, 
 He had fled from far Jerusalem ; and now he stood, 
 With his faint people, for a little rest, 
 Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 711 
 
 Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow 
 To its refreshing breath ; for he had worn 
 The mourner s covering, and he had not felt 
 That he could see his people until now. 
 They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, 
 And spoke their kindly words ; and as the sun 
 Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there, 
 And bow d his head upon his hands to pray. 
 ! when the heart is full when bitter thoughts 
 Come crowding thickly up for utterance, 
 And the poor common words of courtesy 
 Are such an empty mockery how much 
 The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer ! 
 He pray d for Israel and his voice went up 
 Strongly and fervently. He pray d for those 
 Whose love had been his shield and his deep tones 
 Grew tremulous. But oh ! for Absalom 
 For his estranged, misguided Absalom 
 The proud, bright being, who had burst away 
 In all his princely beauty, to defy 
 The heart that cherish d him for him he pour*d, 
 Tn agony that would not be controll d, 
 Strong supplication, and forgave him there, 
 Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. 
 
 The pall was settled. He who slept beneath 
 "Was straighten d for the grave ; and as the folds 
 Sunk to the "still proportions, they betray d 
 The matchless symmetry of Absalom. 
 His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls 
 Were floating round the tassels as they sway d 
 Tc the admitted air, as glossy now 
 As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing 
 The snowy fingers of Judea s daughters, 
 His helm was at his feet ; his banner, soil d 
 With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, 
 Reversed, beside him ; and the jewel d hilt, 
 Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, 
 Rested, like mockery, on his cover d brow. 
 The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, 
 Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief, 
 The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, 
 And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, 
 As if he fear d the slumberer might stir. 
 A slow step startled him. He grasp d his blade 
 As. if a trumpet rang ; but the bent form 
 Of David enter d, and he gave command, 
 In a low tone, to his few followers, 
 And left him with his dead. The king stood still 
 Till the last echo died ; then, throwing off 
 The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back 
 The pall from the still features of his child, 
 He bow d his head upon him, and broke forth 
 In the resistless eloquence of wo : 
 
 "Alas ! my noble boy ! that thou shouldst die ! 
 
 Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair ! 
 That death should settle in thy glorious eye, 
 
712 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY 
 
 And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! 
 How could he mark thee for the silent tomb ! 
 My proud boy, Absalom ! 
 
 Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill, 
 As to my bosom, I have tried to press tbee 
 
 How was I wont to feel thy pulses thrill, 
 
 Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, 
 
 And hear thy sweet MY FATHER ! from these dumb 
 
 And cold lips, Absalom ! 
 
 But death is on thee. I shall hear the gush 
 Of music, and the voices of the young ; 
 
 And life will pass me in the mantling blush, 
 And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; 
 
 But thou no more, with thy sweet voice shalt come 
 
 To meet me, Absalom ! 
 
 d oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, 
 Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, 
 
 How will its love for thee, as I depart, 
 
 Yearn for thy ear to drink its last deep token ! 
 
 It were so sweet amid death s gathering gloom, 
 
 To see thee, Absalom ! 
 
 And now, farewell ! Tis hard to give thee up, 
 With death so like a gentle slumber on thee ; 
 
 And thy dark sin ! ! I could drink the cup, 
 If from this wo its bitterness had won thee. 
 
 May God have call d thee, like a wanderer, home, 
 
 My lost boy, Absalom !" 
 
 He covered up his face and bow d himself 
 A moment on his child : then, giving him 
 A look of melting tenderness, he clasp d 
 His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ; 
 And, as if his strength were given him of God, 
 He rose up calmly, and composed the pall 
 Firmly and decently and left him there 
 As if his rest had been a -breathing sleep. 
 
 THE WEST. 
 
 GEO. P. MORRIS. 
 
 Ho ! brothers come hither and list to my story 
 
 Merry and brief will the narrative be: 
 Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory 
 
 Master am I, boys, of all that I see. 
 Where once frown d a forest a garden is smiling 
 
 The meadow and moorland are marshes no more ; 
 And there curls the smoke of my cottage, beguiling 
 
 The children who cluster like grapes at the door, 
 Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest ; 
 The land of the heart is the land of the West. 
 Oho, boys ! oho, boys ! oho ! 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 713 
 
 Talk not of the town, boys give me the broad prairie, 
 
 Where man like the wind roams impulsive and free 
 Behold how its beautiful colors all vary, 
 
 Like those of the clouds, or the deep- rolling sea. 
 A life in the woods, boys, is even as changing ; 
 
 With proud independence we season our cheer, 
 And those who the world are for happiness ranging, 
 
 Won t find it at all, if they don- t find it here. 
 Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest ; 
 I ll show you the life, boys, we live in the West. 
 Oho, boys ! oho, boys ! oho ! 
 
 Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger, 
 
 We reap what we sow, for the soil is our own ; 
 We spread hospitality s board for the stranger, 
 
 And care not a fig for the king on his throne ; 
 We never know want, for we live by our labor, 
 
 And in it contentment and happiness find ; 
 We do what we can for a friend or a neighbor, 
 
 And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind. 
 Then enter, boys ; cheerly, boys, enter and rest ; 
 You know how we live, and die in the West ! 
 Oho, boys ! oho, boys ! oho ! 
 
 FOREST HYMN. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 The groves were GOD S first temples. Ere man learn d 
 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
 
 And spread the roof above them ere he framed 
 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 
 The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 
 
 Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
 
 And offer d to the Mightiest solemn thanks, 
 
 And supplication. For his simple heart 
 
 Might not resist the sacred influences, 
 
 Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
 
 And from the gray old trunks, that high in heaven 
 
 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 
 Of the invisible breath, that sway d at once 
 
 All their green tops, stole over him, and bow d 
 
 His spirit with the thought of boundless power, 
 
 And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 
 
 Should we, in the world s riper years neglect 
 
 GOD S ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
 
 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
 
 That our frail hands have raised ! Let me, at least, 
 
 Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
 
 Offer one hymn thrice happy, if it find 
 
 Acceptance in his ear. 
 
 Father, thy hand 
 
 Hath rear d these venerable columns, thou 
 Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
 Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
 All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
 
714 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
 And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow, 
 Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
 .Among their branches ; till, at last, they stood, 
 As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
 Fit shrine for humble worshiper to hold 
 Communion with his Maker. These dim vaults, 
 .These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
 Report not. No fantastic carvings show, 
 The boast of our vain race, to change the form 
 Of thy fair works. But thou art here thou fill st 
 The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds, 
 That run along the summit of these trees 
 En music ; thou art in the cooler breath, 
 That, from the inmost darkness of the place, 
 Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
 The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 
 Here is continual worship; nature, here, 
 In the tranquillity that thou dost love, 
 Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly around, 
 From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
 Passes ; and yon clear spring, that midst its herbs, 
 Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 
 Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
 Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 
 Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
 Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, 
 Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak, 
 By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
 Almost annihilated, not a prince, 
 In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
 E er wore his crown as loftily as he 
 Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
 Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
 Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
 Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 
 With delicate breath, and look so like a smile, 
 Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mold, 
 An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
 A visible token of the upholding Love, 
 That are the soul of this wide universe. 
 
 My heart is awed within me, when I think 
 Of the great miracle that still goes on 
 In silence, round me the perpetual work 
 Of thy creation, finish d, yet renew d 
 Forever. Written on thy works, I read 
 The lesson of thy own eternity. 
 Lo ! all grow old and die but see, again, 
 How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
 Youth presses ever gay and beautiful youth, 
 In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
 Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
 Molder beneath them. 0, there is not lost 
 One of earth s charms : upon her bosom yet, 
 After the flight of untold centuries, 
 The freshness of her fair beginning lies, 
 And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 715 
 
 Of his arch-enemy, Death yea, seats himself 
 Upon the tyrant s throne the sepulcher, 
 And of the triumphs of his ghastly foo 
 Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth 
 From thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 
 
 There have been holy men who hid themselves 
 Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
 Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
 The generation born with them, nor seemed 
 Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
 Around them ; and there have been holy men 
 Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
 But let me often to these solitudes 
 Eetire, and in thy presence reassure 
 My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
 The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink 
 And tremble and are still. God ! when thou 
 Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
 The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
 With all the waters of the firmament, 
 The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods 
 And drowns the villages ; when, at thy call, 
 Uprises the great deep and throws himself 
 Upon the continent, and overwhelms 
 Its cities who forgets not, at the sight 
 Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
 His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? 
 0, from these sterner aspects of thy face 
 Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath 
 Of the mad unchained elements to teach 
 Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
 In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
 And to the beautiful order of thy works 
 Learn to conform the order of our lives. 
 
 THE AMERICAN HERO. 
 
 NATHANIEL NILKS. 
 
 A sapphic ode, written in 1775, at Norwich, Conn. It was one of the most popular produc 
 tions of the war, and was sung by our forefathers with patriotic fervor, 
 
 Why should vain mortals tremble at the sight of 
 Death and destruction in the field of battle, 
 Where blood and carnage clothe the ground in crimson, 
 Sounding with death-groans ? 
 
 Death will invade us by the means appointed, 
 And we must all bow to the king of terrors ; 
 Nor am I anxious, if I am prepared, 
 What shape he comes in. 
 
 Infinite Goodness teaches us submission, 
 Bids us be quiet under all our dealings ; 
 Never repining, but forever praising 
 God, our Creator. 
 
71C SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 Well may we praise him ! all his ways are perfect . 
 Though a resplendence, infinitely glowing, 
 Dazzles in glory on the sight of mortals, 
 Struck blind by luster. 
 
 Good is Jehovah in bestowing sunshine, 
 Nor less his goodness in the storm and thunder, 
 Mercies and judgment both proceed from kindness, 
 Infinite kindness. 
 
 0, then, exult that God forever reigneth ; 
 Clouds which, around him, hinder our perception, 
 Bind us the stronger to exalt his name, and 
 Shout louder praises. 
 
 Then to the wisdom of my Lord and Master 
 I will commit all I have or wish for, 
 Sweetly as babes sleep will I give my life up, 
 When call d to yield it. 
 
 Now, Mars, I dare thee, clad in smoky pillars, 
 Bursting from bomb-shells, roaring from the cannon, 
 Rattling in grape-shot like a storm of hailstones, 
 Torturing ether. 
 
 Up the bleak heavens let the spreading flames rise, 
 Breaking, like .<Etna, through the smoky columns, 
 Lowering, like Egypt, o er the falling city, 
 Wantonly burn d down.* 
 
 While all their hearts quick palpitate for havoc, 
 Let slip your blood-hounds, nam d the British lions ; 
 Dauntless as death stares, nimble as the whirlwind, 
 Dreadful as demons ! 
 
 Let oceans waft on all your floating castles, 
 Fraught with destruction, horrible to nature ; 
 . Then, with your sails fill d by a storm of vengeance, 
 Bear down to battle. 
 
 From the dire caverns, made by ghostly miners, 
 Let the explosion, dreadful as volcanoes, 
 Heave the broad town, with all its wealth and people, 
 Quick to destruction. 
 
 Still shall the banner of the King of Heaven 
 Never advance where I am afraid to follow ; 
 While that precedes me, with an open bosom, 
 War, I defy thee. 
 
 Fame and dear freedom lure me en to battle, 
 While a fell despot, grimmer than a death s-head, 
 Stings me with serpents, fiercer than Medusa s, 
 To the encounter. 
 
 Life, for my country and the cause of freedom, 
 Is but a trifle for a worm to part with ; 
 And, if preserved in so great a contest, 
 Life is redoubled. 
 
 * Charlestown, near Boston. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 717 
 
 LOSING ALL THE RUINED MERCHANT 
 
 CORA M. EAGER. 
 
 Written for this work by request of the publisher, from an incident related in the 
 
 Child r s Paper. 
 
 A cottage home with sloping lawn and trellis d vines and flowers, 
 And little feet to chase away the rosy-finger d hours, 
 A fair young face to part, at eve, the shadows in the door 
 I picture thus a home I knew in happy days of yore. 
 
 Says one, a cherub thing of three, with childish heart elate, 
 "Papa is tom irt, let me do to meet im at te date I" 
 Another takes the music up and flings it on the air, 
 " Papa has come but why so slow his footstep on the stair ?" 
 
 "0 Father ! did you bring the books I ve waited for so long 
 The baby s rocking-horse and drum, and mother s angel song ? 
 And did you see " but something holds the questioning lips apart, 
 And something settles very still upon that joyous heart. 
 
 The quick-discerning wife bends down, with her white hand to stay 
 The clouds from tangling with the curls that on his forehead lay ; 
 To ask, in gentle tones "Belov d, by what rude tempest toss d ?" 
 And list the hollow, " Beggar d, lost all ruin d, poor and lost !" 
 
 "Nay, say not so, for I am here to share misfortune s hour, 
 And prove how better far than gold is love s unfailing dower. 
 Let wealth take wings and fly awa}%* as far as wings can soar, 
 The bird of love will hover near and only sing the more." 
 
 "All lost, papa ? why, here am I ; and, father, see how tall, 
 I measure fully three feet four upon the kitchen wall ! 
 I ll tend the flowers, feed the birds, and have such lots of fun 
 I m big enough to work, papa, for I m the oldest son." 
 
 "And I, papa, am almost five," says curly-headed Rose, 
 And I can learn to sew, papa, and make all dolly s clothes ! 
 But what is * poor to stay at home, and have no place to go ? 
 then, I ll ask the Lord to-night to make us always so." 
 
 " I se here, papa I is n t lost !" and on his father s knee 
 He lays his sunny head to rest, that baby-boy of three. 
 "And if we get too poor to live," says little Rose, "you know, 
 There is a better place, papa, a heav n where we can go." 
 
 "And God will come and take us there, dear father, if we pray 
 We needn t fear the road, papa, He surely knows the way." 
 Then from the corner, staff in hand, the grandma rises slovr, 
 Her snowy cap-strings in the breeze soft-flutt ring to and fro. 
 
 Totters across the parlor floor, by aid of kindly hands, 
 Counting, in every little face, her life s declining sands, 
 Reaches his side, and whispers low, " God s promises are sure 
 For every grievous wound, my son, He sends a ready cure." 
 
 The father clasps her hand in his, and quickly turns aside, 
 The heaving chest, the rising sigh, the coming tear to hide, 
 Folds to his heart those loving ones, arid kisses o er and o er 
 That nobl* wifp whose faithful heart he little knew before. 
 
718 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 "May God forgive me ! what is wealth to these more precious things, 
 Whose rich affection round my heart a ceaseless odor flings ? 
 I think he knew my sordid soul was getting proud and cold, 
 And thus to save me, gave me these, and took away my gold. 
 
 Dear ones, forgive me, nevermore will I forget the rod 
 That brought me safely unto you and led me back to God. 
 I am not poor while these bright links of priceless love remain, 
 And, Heaven helping, nevermore shall bliudness hide the chain !" 
 
 LEXINGTON. 
 
 0. W. HOLMES. 
 
 Slowly the mist o er the meadow was creeping, 
 
 Bright on the dewy blids glisten d the sun, 
 When from his couch while his children were sleeping- 
 Rose the bold rebel and shoulder d his gun. 
 
 Waving her golden vail 
 
 Over the silent dale, 
 Blithe look d the morning on cottage and spire ; 
 
 Hush d was his parting sigh, 
 
 Whale from his noble eye 
 Flash d the last sparkle of Liberty s fire. 
 
 On the smooth green where the fresh leaf is springing, 
 
 Calmly the first-born of glory have met : 
 Hark ! the death- volley around them is ringing 
 Look ! with their life-blood the young grass is wet. 
 
 Faint is the feeble breath, 
 
 Murmuring low in death 
 " Tell to our sons how their fathers have died ;" 
 
 Nerveless the iron hand. 
 
 Raised for its native land, 
 Lies by the weapon that gleams at its side. 
 
 Over the hillsides the wild knell is tolling, 
 
 From their far hamlets the yeomanry come ; 
 As thro the storm-clouds the thunder-burst rolling 
 Circles the beat of the mustering drum. 
 
 Fast on the soldier s path 
 
 Darken the waves of wrath ; 
 Long have they gather d, and loud shall they fall : 
 
 Red glares the musket s flash., 
 
 Sharp rings the rifle s crash, 
 Blazing and clanging from thicket and wall. 
 
 Gayly the plume of the horseman was dancing, 
 
 Never to shadow his cold brow again ; 
 Proudly at morning the war steed was prancing, 
 Reeking and panting he droops on the rein ; 
 
 Pale is the lip of scorn, 
 
 Voiceless the trumpet-horn 
 Torn is the silken-fring d red cross on high ; 
 
 Many a belted breast 
 
 Low on the turf shall rest, 
 Ere the dark hunters the herd have pass d by. 
 
SELECT AMERICAN POETKY. 719 
 
 Snow-girdled crags where the coarse wind is raving, 
 
 Rocks where the weary floods murmur and wail, 
 Wilds where the fern by the furrow is waving, 
 Reel d with the echoes that rode on the gale 
 
 Far as the tempest thrills 
 
 Over the darken d hills, 
 Far as the sunshine streams over the plain, 
 
 Roused by the tyrant band, 
 
 Woke all the mighty land, 
 Girded for battle from mountain to main. 
 
 Green be the graves where her martyrs are lying! 
 
 Shroudless and tombless they sunk to their rest , 
 While o er their ashes the starry fold flying, 
 
 Wraps the proud eagle they roused from his nest. 
 
 Borne on her northern pine, 
 
 Long o er the foaming brine 
 Spread her broad banner to storm and to sun ; 
 
 Heaven keep her ever free 
 
 Wide as o er land and sea 
 Floats the fair emblem her heroes have won ! 
 
 ONE HOUR WITH THEE. 
 
 STEPHEN GRIFFITH GASSAWAY. 
 
 Born in Maryland about the year 1818. Educated at Kenyon College, Ohio. Pastor of St. 
 George Church, St. Louis. Died in 1854 from injuries by the explosion of the steamboat 
 Kate Kearney, at St. Louis. At the moment of death, he was in the act of shakin? 
 
 over which he had once officiated as the pastor. 
 
 One hour with thee, my God, when daylight breaks 
 Over a world thy guardian care hath kept, 
 
 When the fresh soul from soothing slumber wakes, 
 To praise the love that watched me while I slept ; 
 
 When with new strength my blood is bounding free, 
 
 The first, best, sweetest hour, I ll give to thee. 
 
 One hour with thee, when busy day begins 
 Her never-ceasing round of bustling care, 
 
 When I must meet with toil, and pain and sins, 
 And through them all, thy cross again must bear; 
 
 then, to arm me for the strife, to be 
 
 Faithful to death, I ll kneel an hour to thee. 
 
 One hour with thee, when rides the glorious sun 
 High in mid-heaven, and panting nature feels 
 
 Lifeless and overpowered, and man has done 
 
 For one short hour, with urging life s swift wheels ; 
 
 In that deep pause my soul from care shall flee, 
 
 To make that hour of rest, one hour with thee. 
 
 One hour with thee, when saddened twilight flings 
 Her soothing charm o er lawn, and vale, and grove ; 
 
 When there breathes up from all created things, 
 The sweet enthralling sense of thy deep love ; 
 
720 SELECT AMERICAN POETRY. 
 
 And when its softening power descends on me, 
 My swelling heart shall spend an hour with thee. 
 
 One hour with thee, my God, when softly night 
 Climbs the high heaven with solemn step and slow, 
 
 When thy sweet stars, unutterably bright, 
 Are telling forth thy praise to men below; 
 
 then, while far from earth my thoughts would flee, 
 
 I ll spend in prayer, one joyful hour with thee. 
 
 IT IS GREAT FOR OUR COUNTRY TO DIE. 
 
 JAMES G. PERCIVAL. 
 
 ! it is great for our country to die, where ranks are Contending ; 
 
 Bright is the wreath of our fame ; Glory awaits us for aye- 
 Glory, that never is dim, shining on with light never ending 
 
 Glory that never shall fade, never, ! never away. 
 
 ! it is sweet for our country to die how softly reposes 
 Warrior youth on his bier, wet by the tears of his love, 
 
 Wet by a mother s warm tears ; they crown him with garlands of roses, 
 Weep, and then joyously turn, bright where he triumphs above. 
 
 Not to the shades shall the youth descend, who for country hath perished ; 
 
 HEBE awaits him in heaven, welcomes him there with her smile ; 
 There, at the banquet divine, the patriot spirit is cherish d ; 
 
 Gods love the young, who ascend pure from the funeral pile. 
 
 Not to Elysian fields, by the still, oblivious river; 
 
 Not to the isles of the bless d, over the blue rolling sea ; 
 But on Olympian heights, shall dwell the devoted forever ; 
 
 There shall assemble the good, there the wise, valiant, and free. 
 
 ! then, how great for our country to die, in the front rank to perish, 
 Firm with our breast to the foe, Victory s shout in our ear : 
 
 Long they our statues shall crown, in songs our memory cherish ; 
 We shall look forth from heaven, pleased the sweet music to hear. 
 
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