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THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. .Varren Gregory 
 
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AMERICAN 
 
 MILITARY BIOGRAPHY; 
 
 CONTAINING THE 
 LIVES AND CHARACTERS, 
 
 -OF THE 
 
 OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION, 
 
 WHO WERE MOST DISTINGUISHED IN 
 ACHIEVING OUR NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 ALSO, 
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 GILBERT MOTHER Z.A PAYETTE, 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL IN THE CONTINENTAL ARMY MARSHAL 
 
 OF FRANCE, AND COMMANDER IN CHIEF 
 OF THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR 
 
 SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 CINCINNATI. 
 
 WHETSTONE & BUXTON Printers 
 1829, 
 
JV A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 to despotism. As soon as the colonies had fought their 
 way to a condition, which afforded the prospect of 
 rapidly increasing in population and wealth, attempts 
 were made to restrict their commercial and political 
 privileges, and gradually to reduce them to the most 
 wretched state of colonial vassalage. For a century 
 and a half, the colonies had been left to themselves as 
 to taxation; their own local assemblies had provided 
 the necessary revenues to defray the expenses of their 
 governments; and the parliament of Great Britain had 
 neither directly nor indirectly ever attempted to derive 
 a dollar of revenue from America; although various 
 acts had from time to time been passed, regulating the 
 trade and commerce of the colonies, yet none of these 
 were designed or regarded, either in Britain or Amer 
 ica, as revenue laws. 
 
 But in an inauspicious moment, the British ministry 
 conceived the idea of taxing the colonies, under the 
 pretence of providing for their protection, but in real 
 ity to relieve the nation from the immense debt, the 
 weight of which hung heavily upon it. This iniquitous 
 scheme, originating with the cabinet, was easily in 
 troduced into parliament; and in March, 1764, as a 
 prelude to the memorable Stamp J)ct, the house of com 
 mons resolved, "That towards further defraying the ne 
 cessary expenses of protecting the colonies, it may be 
 necessary to charge certain stamp duties upon them/ and 
 this resolution was followed by what was commonly 
 called the Sugar Act, passed on the 0th of April, and 
 introduced by the following truly alarming preamble: 
 "Whereas it is JUST and necessary that a revenue be 
 raised in America, for defraying the expenses of defend 
 ing, protecting and securing the same ; we, the commons, 
 &c. towards raising the same, give and grant unto your 
 majesty, after the 29th day of September, 1764, on 
 clayed sugar, indigo and coffee, of foreign produce, [and 
 various other articles] the sum of,* &c. This was the 
 first act adopted by parliament, for the avowed object 
 of raising a revenue in the colonies. The justice of this 
 measure, which appeared so clear to the British parlia- 
 menUwas regarded in America as oppression and tyranny. 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. V 
 
 and occasioned great excitement and alarm. The de 
 ceptive pretension, that the revenue was to be raised for 
 the purpose of protecting the colonies, was only adding 
 insult to injustice; as the colonies supposed that they 
 were capable of protecting themselves, and they appre 
 hended that the object was rather under the pretence 
 of affording them protection, to maintain a military force 
 in America, for the purpose of dragooning them into 
 submission, and enforcing an unconstitutional system of 
 taxation; thereby rendering them the instruments of 
 forging their own chains. This act was rendered more 
 disgusting, by a provision that the money raised by it 
 must be paid in specie, and another, that those charged 
 with having violated the revenue laws, might be prose 
 cuted in the courts of admiralty; whereby they were 
 deprived of the privilege of trial by a jury, and were 
 liable to be condemned by a single officer of the crown, 
 whose salary was to be paid from the very forfeitures 
 decreed by himself. And this was not all, or even the 
 wor>t;asthe trial was conducted on such principles, 
 that the accused, contrary to the well known maxims of 
 the common law, and repugnant to every idea of justice, 
 was obliged to prove himself innocent, or suffer the pen- 
 alt es of the law. These iniquitous proceedings des 
 troyed all security of property, and left every one at 
 the mercy of the minions of the Britsh crown. Their 
 pernicious influence was soon felt extensively in the col 
 onies; they no longer regared Great Britain as an affec 
 tionate mother, but viewed her in the light of a selfish, 
 cruel and imperious step-mother. The designs of the 
 ministry were penetrated, and occasioned great alarm, 
 which spread wider and wider, until it became univer 
 sal. The press, that great engine of truth and liberty, 
 was called into requisition ; the subject was ably and 
 elaborately discussed; and the more it was discussed, 
 and the better it was understood, the more strong and 
 determined the opposition became. All the colonies 
 petitioned and remonstrated against these obnoxious 
 measures, and most of them appointed agents to present 
 their memorials to parliament, or the king. 
 
VI A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 But notwithstanding the excitement and opposition in 
 America, and the remonstrances of the colonies, Mr. 
 Grenville, who was at the head of the treasury, pre 
 pared the Stamp-Bill, and introduced it into parliament 
 in February, 1765; and although opposed with all the 
 powers of eloquence, by Alderman Beckford, Mr. Jack 
 son, Colonel Barre, Sir William Meredith and others, it 
 \vas adopted by a great majority ; fifty only voting in op 
 position, out of about three hundred members, who were 
 present. On the second reading of the bill, various 
 petitions, not only from the colonies, but from the Lon 
 don merchants interested in the American trade, were 
 presented; but the petitions were not even received, 
 being refused, on the plea that no memorial could be 
 received on a money bill. Having passed both houses 
 of parliament, on the 22d of March, the Stamp-Act re 
 ceived the royal assent. Dr. Franklin, then in England, 
 as agent for Pennsylvania, wrote to Charles Thompson, 
 afterwards secretary of congress "The sun of liberty 
 is set ; you must light up the lamps of industry and econ 
 omy." Mr. Thompson, in a spirited reply, observed, 
 "That he thought other lights would be lighted up to re 
 sist these unconstitutional measures." It is necessary 
 to add, that this prediction was soon fulfilled. 
 
 This unjust and impolitic act was the first great cause 
 which led to the American revolution; indeed it was 
 substantially the first scene in the bloody drama of that 
 revolution. It was passed in parliament, on the 7th of 
 February, 1765, under the ministry of Lord Grenville, 
 and was repealed on the 18th of March, 1766, from the 
 influence of Mr. Pitt. This period of thirteen months 
 was the most eventful and tumultuous of any which had 
 hitherto occurred ; the apprehensions of the people were 
 roused to the highest pitch, and the most determined 
 spirit of opposition prevailed throughout the colonies. 
 The Americans had not believed that the act would be 
 passed, and on receiving the intelligence, every one was 
 struck with astonishment and filled with consternation; 
 they looked at each other with amazement, and for a 
 short interval, hesitated what course to pursue ; but soon 
 recovering from their consternation they determined not 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. Vll 
 
 to submit to such a flagrant outrage on their rights. In 
 Boston, the ships in the harbor, in token of the deepest 
 mourning, suspended their colors half-mast high; the 
 bells were rung muffled ; and the obnoxious act, with a 
 death s head in front of it, with the motto "THE FOLLY 
 OF ENGLAND AND THE RUIN OF AMERICA," was carried in 
 solemn procession about the streets. The discontents 
 soon spread throughout the colonies, and the opposition 
 became general and determined; the spirit of the peo 
 ple gave a tone to the colonial assemblies, and bold and 
 decided resolutions were adopted against the iniqui 
 tous scheme of parliamentary taxation. Virginia took 
 the lead, and on the 28th of May, 1765, Patric Henry 
 introduced his celebrated resolutions into the house of 
 burgesses, which declared that the inhabitants of that 
 colony were entitled to, and had possessed and enjoyed 
 all the rights, liberties and privileges of the people of 
 Great Britain; that the general assembly of the colony 
 had always exercised and alone possessed the power to 
 levy taxes and imposts on the inhabitants of the colony, 
 and that they "were not bound to yield obedience to 
 any law or ordinance whatsoever, designed to impose 
 any taxation whatever upon them other than the law 
 and ordinances of the general assembly." So bold and 
 unexpected were these resolutions, that whilst they 
 were reading, one of the members cried out "treason! 
 treason !" 
 
 These resolutions were communicated to all the col 
 onies, and the spirit they breathed spread from one legis 
 lature to another, and their "sentiments were reitera 
 ted in resolutions adopted by the legislatures and 
 the freemen in public meetings. Committees were ap 
 pointed, by the assemblies of the colonies, to correspond 
 with each other, and to meet for consultation ; the object 
 of which was to secure harmony of feeling and concert 
 of action. These measures had a very happy effect; in 
 the mean time, the press teemed with constant publica 
 tions, vindicating the rights of the colonies; and many 
 of them were of a highly inflammatory character, calcu 
 lated to raise the public mind to the highest pitch. The 
 pulpit also, particularly in New-England, laboured in the 
 
A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 same cause with great zeal and effect; the flame of lib 
 erty kindled from breast to breast, and spread from prov 
 ince to province, until the conflagration became general. 
 The spirit of opposition ran so high as to break out into 
 acts of tu ult and disorder. In Boston the effigy of 
 Mr. Oliver, the stamp-master, was burnt, and his house 
 assailed, partly demolished, and his furniture destroyed ; 
 and soon after, the house of William Storer, deputy- 
 register of the court of admiralty, was attacked, and 
 the books and files of the court destroyed ; and the house 
 of Mr. Hallowell, comptroller of the customs, shared the 
 same fate. These outrages were followed by a more bold 
 and daring attack upon the dwelling of Mr. Hutchinson, 
 Lieut, governor of the province ; he was obliged to flee to 
 save his life, and his house was entirely demolished, ex 
 cept the walls, and every thing in it destroyed or carried 
 off. Similar outrages were committed in other places. 
 In Connecticut, Mr. Ingersoll, the stamp officer, was 
 burnt in effigy in many towns; and whilst he was pro 
 ceeding from New-Haven to Hartford, where the assem 
 bly vvas in session, he was pursued and overtaken by a 
 large concourse of people, some from more than thirty 
 miles, and compelled to resign his office, which was 
 followed by three hearty cheers of liberty and property. 
 This took place at Wethersfield, from whence the peo 
 ple, who were headed by militia officers, proceeded to 
 Hartford, where Mr. Ingersoll was compelled to read 
 his resignation in the hearing of the assembly, which 
 was succeeded by loud acclamations of liberty and 
 property. In New York the stamp officer vvas compel 
 led to resign, and Lieutenant Governor Golden was 
 burnt in effigy, with a stamp-bill in his hand, suspended 
 from his own coach, and the whole was consumed to 
 gether. 
 
 In the southern colonies, the public feeling did not 
 lead to the same excesses; but in all of them, means 
 were found to compel the stamp officers to resign; and 
 in all the colonies the assemblies adopted resolutions in 
 opposition to the stamp-act, although in many of them 
 the royal governors prorogued and attempted to sto-p 
 their proceedings. The members of the colonial assem- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XI 
 
 blies were animated and encouraged by the people, 
 who, in most of the towns, instructed them to oppose 
 the stamp act. But the most important measure to 
 unite the colonies and give energy and effect to their 
 opposition, was convening a continental congress, con 
 sisting of deputies appointed by each coloney. This 
 measure was first proposed by the assembly of [Massa 
 chusetts. The meeting was appointed to be holden in 
 New- York, in October, 1765. All the colonies, except 
 New-Hampshire, Virginia, North -Carolina, and Georgia, 
 sent deputies; the three last of these colonies were pre 
 vented by their governors, and the first excused itself on 
 account of its peculiar situation. The congress, after 
 mature deliberation, adopted a declaration of rights, 
 and a statement of the grievances of the colonies, and 
 asserted, in the strongest terms, their exemption from all 
 taxes not imposed by their own representatives. It also 
 prepared a petition to the house of commons. 
 
 As the first of November, the time when the stamp- 
 act was to go into operation, approached, public feeling 
 became still stonger and was exerted to the utmost to 
 prevent the execution of the law. In New York, ten 
 boxes of stamps, which had arrived there for Connec 
 ticut, were seized by the populace and burned ; and in 
 other ports, the masters of vessels, which brought out 
 stamps, were compelled to return with their detestable 
 cargoes or deliver them up to the people to be destroyed. 
 In Boston, and many of the principal towns, the first of 
 November was kept as a day of mourning and deep 
 distress: all the shops were shut, the bells were tolled 
 muffled, and the effigies of the authors and abettors of 
 the act were carried in procession through the streets, 
 and then torn to pieces and consumed by the flames. 
 
 The lawyers of the supreme court in New-Jersey re 
 solved that they would not purchase the stamps in their 
 professional business, and that they would relinquish 
 their practice as a sacrifice to the public good ; and the 
 principal merchants in the colonies, and great numbers 
 of other classes of the inhabitants, entered into solemn 
 engagements not only to refuse to use the stamps, but 
 also not to import any more goods from Great Britain 
 
 B 
 
A SUMMARY VIEW OP 
 
 tintil the stamp act should DP repealed. Associations 
 were formed, called the "Sons of Liberty," the object of 
 which was, to assist and protect with force, if necessary, 
 every one who might be in danger from his resistance or 
 opposition to the stamp act. This bold association ori 
 ginated in New- York, and prevailed throughout New 
 England, and, had not the act been repealed, must have 
 led to civil war. The restrictive measures produced 
 distress and tumults in England; large numbers of the 
 manufacturers being thrown out of employment, and 
 more than forty thousand, with black flags, appeared in 
 the streets in London, and surrounded the royal palace 
 and parliament house. Fortunately a change of min 
 istry took place, in consequence of what was called 
 the regency bill, and Lord Grenville was succeeded by 
 the Marquis of Rockingham, as first lord of the treasu 
 ry, and the Duke of Grafton and General Conway were 
 appointed secretaries of state. In January the parlia 
 ment met; the affairs of America occupied the princi 
 pal attention, and the first talents of the house were 
 engaged in the discussion. Mr. Pitt, who had been con 
 fined to his bed by sickness, when the stamp act was 
 passed, now came forward as the great champion of the 
 rights -of the Americans, and with his manly and all- 
 powerful eloquence, opposed the unjust, unconstitutional 
 and dangerous measures ;he even justified the Americans 
 in their resistance of an act of tyranny and oppression. 
 After a long and animated discussion, the act was repeal 
 ed, accomplished, however, with a declaration, "that the 
 king and parliament had. and of right ought to have, 
 full power and authority to make laws and statutes of 
 sufficient force to bind the colonies, and his majesty s 
 subjects in them, in all cases whatsoever" An act of in 
 demnity was also passed. 
 
 The repeal of the obnoxious act occasioned universal 
 joy, both in Great Britain and America; the ships in the 
 Thames displayed their colours, and the whole city of 
 London was illuminated; and in the colonies, notwith 
 standing the declaratory act, asserting the principle of 
 taxation, the joy and rejoicings were universal ; the non 
 importation resolutions were rescinded; animosities, ill- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XI 
 
 treatment, and every thing past, were forgotten, and com 
 mercial intercourse with Great Britain was resumed with 
 greater activity than ever before had been witnessed. The 
 colonies hoped and believed, that harmony would now 
 be restored, and did every thing in their power to pro 
 mote this desirable object. But the officers of the 
 crown, the minions of power, and the expectants of 
 p-a"e. kept up a correspondence with the officers of the 
 British government at home, and attempted to promote 
 tht-ir own selfish views by misrepresenting their coun 
 trymen. Governor Bernard,, of Massachusetts, was the 
 head of this party, which contributed so much to breed 
 difficulties and bring matters to a crisis. Notwitstand- 
 ingthat the declaratory act still hung over the heads 
 of the colonies, like a portentous cloud, it was not gen 
 erally expected that the British government would very 
 soon make another so dangerous an experiment. But 
 these reasonable expectations, however, soon proved to 
 be fallacious, and all reliance on the justice or liberty of 
 Britain, were found to be deceptive and dangerous. 
 Notwithstanding the distraction into which the colonies 
 had been thrown, by the stamp-act, within a few months 
 after its repeal, and before the wounds it had occasioned 
 had had time to heal, the chancellor of the exchequer, 
 Charles Townsend, came forward with a new scheme 
 of taxing America, and was so sangune in his views, 
 that he pledged his character for the success of the pro 
 ject. The new revenue scheme was, to take off the du 
 ties on teas, which were paid in Great Britain, and to 
 levy three pence per pound on all that was purchased in 
 America, and also a duty on paper, glass and several 
 other articles. A board of customs was established, 
 and commissioners appointed to set in Boston to collect 
 the duties; and the custom officers were to be paid from 
 the revenue thus raised ; and the governor, judges of the 
 superior court, and other officers in Massachusetts, who 
 had hitherto been depend ;nt for their salaries on the 
 assembly, to render them independent of the people, and 
 more devoted to Great Britain, were also to be paid from 
 these revenues. An 1 to carry the iniquitous system 
 into effect (as unjust laws can only be enforced by unj 
 
Xll A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 just means,) the powers of the court of admiralty were 
 greatly extended, so as to deprive the people of trial by 
 jury in prosecutions for violating the revenue laws. 
 Writs of Assistance, as they were called, issued by the 
 governor, or any officer of the revenue, authorised 
 searching the house of the most respectable inhabitant 
 in the province, on suspicion of the concealment of con 
 traband or smuggled goods. 
 
 When intelligence of these new parliamentary regu 
 lations reached America, they occasioned universal 
 astonishment, and revived all the excitement and alarm 
 which prevailed during the stamp-act. In the minds of 
 reflecting men they were regarded as more dangerous 
 than that obnoxious act, as an indirect and disguis 
 ed system of taxation had a more certain and fatal 
 tendency to undermine the liberties and enslave the 
 people, than direct taxes. The colonies, assailed by the 
 same injuries, had recourse to the former measures of 
 complaint and supplication; but their petitions were not 
 even read, and their remonstrances treated with con 
 tempt, th j3 adding insult to injustice. These accumu 
 lated injuries and indignities aroused the fears and 
 spirit of the colonies; and a circular letter, addressed to 
 the other colonies, by the assembly of Massachusetts, 
 contributed to diffuse the flame and lead to concert of 
 action. This letter was dated the 1 1th of February, 
 1768, and the sentiments it contained were reiterated 
 by mcst of the colonial assemblies. From the bold and 
 determined conduct of the assembly of Massachusetts, 
 it was prorogued by the governor. Another assembly 
 was convened in May following, to which the governor, 
 in his first communication, insolently demanded of them, 
 as required by the British Secratary of State, to rescind 
 the resolutions of the preceding assembly, which led to 
 the circular letter, and intimated that unless they com 
 plied immediately they would be dissolved at once. 
 But the assembly acted with a firmness which became 
 the defenders of liberty; and instead of complying with 
 this haughty mandate, petitioned the king for the re 
 moval of the royal governor, and charged upon him a 
 long catalogue of crimes. The governor, exasperated 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XUl 
 
 at their conduct, immediately dissolved the mutinous 
 assembly, and applied to the commander in chief of the 
 kind s troops, then in New York, to have several addi 
 tional regiments sent to Boston. Alarmed at these cir 
 cumstances, the inhabitants of Boston beseeched the 
 governor to convene another assembly; but he treated 
 their request with contempt. The crisis required some 
 thing to be done, without delay, and accordingly letters 
 were written to every town in the colony, requesting the 
 appointment of delegates to meet in convention at Bos 
 ton, before the arrival of the troops. Delegates from 
 ninety-six towns met on the 22d of September. The 
 governor instantly sent them an angry message, com 
 manding them to disperse, threatening, in case of refusal, 
 that they would suffer the consequence of their temeri 
 ty. The convention, however, was not frightened into 
 submission, but gave their reasons for convening, contin 
 ued their deliberations, and prepared a petition to the 
 king. 
 
 On the first of October, the troops arrived and land 
 ed; and, sword in hand, paraded through the streets of 
 Boston, which were filled with vast crowds, who with 
 sullen silence, denoting the deepest resentment, witness 
 ed this, the first act ia the great and bloody drama about 
 to be performed. No tumult or resistance however, 
 ensued, notwithstanding the troops were quartered in 
 the houses of the inhabitants. The assembly met in 
 May, 1769, and immediately adopted several spirited 
 resolutions; that the placing an armed force where the 
 legislature was convened, to overawe their delibera 
 tions, was a breach of privilege, and that the quartering 
 of troops on the inhabitants in time of peace, was illegal 
 and a violation of the rights and liberties of British 
 subjects. 
 
 A standing army was now stationed in the capital of 
 Massachusetts, for the avowed object of coercing the 
 inhabitants into submission; their commerce fettered, 
 their characters traduced, the assembly prevented from 
 meeting, and the petitions of all classes to have the as 
 sembly convened, treated with contempt by an insolent 
 governor, who threatened to augment the troops, and 
 
XIV A SUMMERY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 enforce at all hazards, his arbitrary and tyrannical mea 
 sures; it cannot be surprising that the fears and exaspe 
 rations of the people exceeded what had ever been wit 
 nessed before. At this alarming conjuncture, something 
 must be done, and there was no other alternative but 
 submission or resistance, as petitions had been treated 
 with such contempt, that to memorialize any branch of 
 the British government would be equivalent to submis 
 sion ; and there were but two ways of resistance, either 
 an appeal to the sword, or an entire suspension of all 
 commercial intercourse with (>reat Britain, which, as 
 was said by Mr. Pitt in his speech, furnished the means 
 whereby Britain had carried on the war with France r 
 and which if continued, would afford the means of their 
 own oppression. As all the colonies were involved irj 
 one common danger, they readily entered into the most 
 solemn engagements, that no British or India goods 
 should be imported except a few specified articles of 
 nece-sary use. The effects of these arrangements were 
 soon felt in England, and produced clamors, and even 
 tumults in some parts of the kingdom. But the partizans 
 of the crown in America, endeavored by their correspon 
 dence, to induce the ministry to persevere in their op 
 pressive measures, and represented in the strongest 
 terms, that the interruption of commerce was only an 
 effort of desperation, which could not last long. They 
 advised the ministry, to purchase large quantities of 
 goods, designed for the American market, and also to 
 allow the merchants engaged in the American trade, a 
 premium equal to the profits of their stock in business. 
 44 If these measures are adopted," said Mr. Oliver, sec 
 retary in Massachusetts, in one of his letters, "the game 
 will soon be up with my countrymen" 
 
 The assembly which convened at Boston in May, set 
 several weeks without doing any business, as they refu 
 sed to act as long as an armed force was quartered in 
 the town, and surrounded the house where they were in 
 session; they were finally adjourned to Cambridge. 
 They sent several messages to the governor to have the 
 troops removed, but after evading the matter for some 
 time, he declared he had no authority over the king s 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XV 
 
 troops; thus admitting that the military was above the 
 civil power in the province. Governor Bernard sent a 
 provoking message, stating the expenditures of quarter 
 ing the troops on the town, and requesting that provision 
 be made for the payment of the same, and also for their 
 future support; the assembly were thus called onto 
 maintain the instruments by which they were to be op 
 pressed and enslaved. But instead of complying with 
 this request, they passed several spirited resolutions, 
 censuring the conduct of the governor and Gen. Gage, 
 for their rash and oppressive measures, their wanton 
 violations of the constitution, the introduction of a stan 
 ding army in time of peace, and their encroachments on 
 the liberties of the citizens and of the province. The 
 governor had received an order to repair to England, 
 and lay before the king the state of the colony; which 
 he communicated to the assembly, with a request that 
 his salary might be continued during his absence, as his 
 office would remain But the assembly informed him 
 in decided terms, that they could not comply with either 
 of his requests. On receiving this answer, he immedi 
 ate, after a short, angry, and threatening speech, pro 
 rogued the legislature. He soon after set sail for Eu 
 rope, then little thinking that he should never return to a 
 country that by his violent temper and arbitrary conduct, 
 he had brought to the brink of civil war. His reception 
 at court convinced the Americans of the truth of what 
 they feared, that the governor had been sent for, as a 
 mischievous emissary, rather than for an impartial in 
 quiry into the real situation of the province, or an inves 
 tigation of his own conduct. 
 
 Thomas Hutchinson, the lieutenant-governor, was ap 
 pointed to succeed Governor Bernard. Hutchinson was 
 a native of Boston, and had run a career of popularity; 
 whilst, however, he was courting the people at home, 
 he was not less assidious in ingratiating himself into the 
 favour of the British government, by misrepresenting his 
 countrymen. He was artful and plausible, and posses 
 sed of popular talents; but was insidious, dark, intriguing 
 and ambitious ; and the extreme of avarice marked every 
 feature of his character. His appointment was announr 
 
XVI A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 ced at the close of the year 1769. He immediately as 
 sumed a more haughty tone, and aimed at more high 
 handed measures than his predecessor, and commenced 
 his administration by informing the assembly that he was 
 independent of them and the people, as his rnajestv had 
 made provisions for his salary. Secure of the favor of 
 his sovereign, he treated the people and the assembly 
 with contempt, and answered their repeated solicita 
 tions to remove the troops from the capital, by with 
 drawing the garrison from a strong fortress in the har 
 bor of Boston, who were in the pay of the province, and 
 replacing them by two regiments of the king s troops. 
 The ebulitions, of popular feeling, were so high as to 
 occasion great alarm with the leading patriots, that it 
 would break out into acts of violence, which might in 
 jure the cause of the people. The miserable minions 
 of power in America, endeavoured to promote this re 
 sult, and openly avowed, " that the only method to re 
 store tranquility, was to takeoff {he original incendiaries, 
 whose writings had instilled the poison of sedition into 
 the people." James Otis, the most active, bold and influ 
 ential patriot of the day, having published under his 
 proper signature, some severe strictures on the conduct 
 of the officers of the crown, was assaulted in a public 
 room, by a band of hired ruffians, with swords and 
 bludgeons; and being covered with wounds, was left 
 for dead. The assassins made their escape, and took 
 refuge on board the king s ships in the harbor. Mr. Otis 
 survived, but the lamp of his understanding which had 
 glowed with such effulgence, was overcast with clouds 
 ancPdarkness. Mr. John Adams says that he fc *laid the 
 foundation of the American revolution, with an energy, 
 and with those masterly talents which no other man pos 
 sessed ;" and he is justly considered as the first martyr 
 to American liberty. 
 
 The insults which the inhabitants constantly experi 
 enced, from the soldiers, increased their animosity to 
 wards them to such a degree, as to lead to violence and 
 Wood-shed. On the 2d of March, 1770. an affray took 
 place between a party of soldiers of the 29th regiment, 
 and some rope-makers, in front of Mr. Gray s rope-walk. 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XVII 
 
 This was followed by a more alarming outrage on the 
 5th: the indignant populace pressed upon and insulted 
 the soldiers, while under arms, and assailed them with 
 clubs, sticks and snow- balls, covering stones. Being 
 dared to fire by the mob, six of the soldiers discharged 
 their muskets, which killed three of the citizens, and 
 wounded five others. The effect of this was electric; 
 the town \vas instantly in commotion, and the mass of 
 the people were so exasperated, that it required the ut 
 most exertions to prevent their rallying and driving the 
 British myrmidons out of town; and nothing but an as 
 surance that the troops should be withdrawn, prevented 
 this resort to force. The captain of the party and eight 
 men were brought to trial; two of them were found 
 guilty; the captain and the other men were acquitted. 
 A general meeting of the inhabitants was immediately 
 assembled in Faneuil Hall, who unanimously resolved 
 that no armed fofce should be suffered longer to reside 
 in the capital; and a committee was appointed to wait 
 on the governor, and request the immediate removal of 
 the troops. The governor refused to act, under pretence 
 of want of authority ; but Col. Dalrymple, alarmed at the 
 state of things, proposed to withdraw the 29th regiment, 
 which was more culpable than any other; but he was 
 informed that not. a soldier should be left in town; he 
 was reluctantly compelled to comply, and within four 
 days not a Red-coat remained. This tragical affair pro 
 duced the deepest impressions on the minds of the peo 
 ple; and the anniversary of the massacre of the 5th of 
 March, 1770, was commemorated for many years, and 
 orations delivered, which unfolded the blessings of civil 
 liberty, the horrors of slavery, the dangers of standing 
 armies, and the rights of the colonies. These an 
 nual orations administered fuel to the fire of liberty, and 
 kept it burning with an incessant flame, and in no small 
 degree promoted the cause of the colonies, in a manner 
 that served to give a deeper glow to the flame of liberty. 
 In the spring of 1773, the schooner Gaspee was station 
 ed at Providence, to prevent smuggling; and the con 
 duct of the commander having exasperated the inhabit 
 ants, two hundred men entered on board the schooner at 
 
 C 
 
XVlll A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 night, and compelled the captain and crew to go ashore, 
 and then set fire to the vessel. The government offered 
 a reward of five hundred pounds, for the apprehension 
 of any of the persons engaged in this outrage; but such 
 was the spirit and unanimity of the people, that this 
 pecuniary inducement produced no effect, and the au 
 thors of the outrage could not be discovered. About 
 this period, the letters of Governor Hutchinson and Mr. 
 Oliver, to their friends in England, urging the govern 
 ment to adopt more decisive and vigorous measures, to 
 coerce the colonies into submission, were discovered and 
 sent back to America by Dr. Franklin, which, being 
 published by the assembly of Massachusetts, greatly 
 contributed to inflame the public mind, and exasperate 
 the people against these officers of the crown, who were 
 justly charged with having shamefully betrayed their 
 trust, and the people, whose rights it was their duty 
 vigilantly to guard. Whilst the other duties were re 
 pealed, that on tea was retained, for the sole and avowed 
 object of maintaining the power, which parliament had 
 asserted, of collecting a revenue in America. The 
 ministerial scheme was cunning and artful; but did not, 
 in the least degree, deceive the vigilance of the Ameri 
 cans. The object was to cheat the colonies out of their 
 rights, by collecting an indirect, imperceptible duty, lit 
 tle more than nominal in amount, which, however, if ac 
 quiesced in, would have been a-n admission of the prin 
 ciple or right of Britain to raise a revenue in America. 
 It was an attempt to obtain, covertly and by fraud> 
 what they had attempted, but failed to obtain, openly 
 by force. In the first place, measures were adopted, 
 openly and explicitly, for taxing the colonies, the duties 
 to be paid directly by the consumer; but being unable 
 to enforce this act, it is repealed, accompanied with a 
 declaration of the right of parliament to tax the Amer 
 icans, in all cases whatsoever. This naked assertion 
 of a right, when the application of it had been attemp 
 ted and abandoned, did not give the Americans much 
 concern: they would not have cared, if the British had 
 kept that assertion of a right to do wrong on their stat 
 ute-book, as long as the two countries existed, provi 
 ded they had not attempted to exercise their assumed 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XIX 
 
 right. But the advocates of American taxation seemed 
 to be sensible, that the bare assertion of a right, after 
 an unsuccessful attempt to enforce it would amount to 
 but little, and that conclusions, obviously following the 
 abandonment of the first attempt to tax the Americans, 
 would be left in their full force. Under the circumstan 
 ces in which the two countries were placed, therefore, 
 the right must be enforced, or it must be considered as 
 virtually abandoned. But this had been once attemp 
 ted, without success; a more ingenious mode, therefore, 
 must be devised, or one less likely to give alarm to the 
 colonies. The stamp duties were a direct t&x, as the 
 duty constituted the entire value of the sum paid; but a 
 trifling impost would not be perceived, as the dxity would 
 scarcely make any sensible difference in the price of 
 the article. The bitter pill, which it was intended to 
 make the colonies swallow, was gilded with sugar. 
 The duty was more artfully disguised, than a simple 
 impost. It was in fact, no additional burden on the 
 consumers of tea, it being only a different mode of col 
 lecting the duty which had before been paid; yet this 
 alteration of the mode involved the right and power of 
 parliament to establish a revenue system in America. 
 According to the former regulations, the teas of the In 
 dia Company were first brought to England, where a 
 duty was paid before they were sent to the colonies. 
 The scheme was merely to change the place and mode 
 of collecting the duty; it was to be paid in America, 
 instead of England ; for which purpose custom regula 
 tions were established, and officers appointed. A duty 
 of three pence on a pound of tea, would not be felt by 
 the people, and this, or rather a greater duty, had been 
 paid before in England; so that, instead of the burdens 
 of the people being increased, they were rather light 
 ened by this new regulation. So artfully disguised was 
 this scheme. It is a maxim with many politicians, and 
 too generally correct, that the people will not be alar 
 med or excited by any principle, however it may be 
 fraught with danger; that they must feel and suffer, be 
 fore their fears will arouse them into action. But this 
 maxim did not hold true with the Americans: they saw 
 
XX A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 the danger, and resolved to resist, at the hazard of their 
 lives, a principle, calculated to undermine the founda 
 tion of their liberties; although its operation at the time 
 was not felt, in the slightest degree. The resistance of 
 the Americans to the scheme of collecting a duty on tea 
 in America, instead of England, was the risistance of 
 the principle which that scheme involved, solely; as no 
 additional burden was thereby imposed on the people. 
 It is believed that this is the only instance in history, of 
 an entire people being roused to resistance, from meas- 
 ores which were not burdensome or oppressive in their 
 immediate operations, and dangerous only from the prin 
 ciple on which they were founded. This consideration 
 affords the highest evidence of the intelligence of the 
 Americans, as well as of their extreme jealousy and 
 vigilance, in guarding their rights. That the experien 
 ced politician should foresee the ultimate design and 
 tendency of measures, not immediately oppressive, is 
 natural enough; but that the common people, or rather 
 that the entire population of a country should be aroused 
 to resistance, on account of measures not burdensome 
 or oppressive, but dangerous only from the principle on 
 which they were founded, is unparalleled. It is not, 
 however, to be supposed that the colonists would have 
 been so alarmed and aroused to such a spirit of resis 
 tance, by the new regulations as to tea, had it not been 
 for the previous measures of the parent country, evin 
 cing, in the clearest manner, a settled design to exercise 
 the power of taxation over them. They considered the 
 new regulations as to tea, as an artful and disguised reve 
 nue system, although it imposed no additional duty, and 
 they were determined not to be cheated out of their lib 
 erties, as they had before resolved not to be frightened 
 out of them. 
 
 Measures were immediately adopted to prevent the 
 introduction of the tea into the country, so as to avoid 
 the payment of the duty ; and such was the strength and 
 unanimity of public opinion, that without the aid of law, 
 or rather in opposition to law, they were enabled to ren 
 der their measures efficient, solely by the force of public 
 sentiment, although measures of all others the most dif- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXI 
 
 ficult to enforce, as interfering both with the interests 
 and the established habits of the people. In most of 
 the towns from New-Hampshire to Georgia, the people 
 assembled and resolved to discontinue the use of tea, 
 which was now regarded as an herb, (however agreea 
 ble as a beverage,) noxious to the political constitution. 
 In the large commercial towns, regulations w,re adop 
 ted to prevent the landing of the tea; committees were 
 appointed to inspect merchant s books, propose tests, and 
 to make use of other means to defeat the designs of Brit 
 ain. Where it could be done, the consignees of the teas, 
 were persuaded or compelled to resign, or to bind them 
 selves not to act in that capacity. The cargo sent to 
 South-Carolina, was stored, the consignees being con 
 strained to enter into an engagement not to offer any for 
 sale ; and in many of the colonies, the ships were compel 
 led to return without discharging their cargoes. So vig 
 orously were these measures enforced, that during one 
 year, eighty-five pounds was the whole amount of du 
 ties received. The teas consumed in the colonies, were 
 principally smuggled into the country, by the Dutch and 
 French, who were favored by the inhabitants in evading 
 the revenue laws. During the four or five years that 
 the new system had been in existence, very trifling quan 
 tities of teas had been introduced into the colonies, and 
 instead of the restrictive measures being relaxed as was 
 expected in England, they increased in vigor and effi 
 cacy, and the quantity of tea introduced had constantly 
 diminished. 
 
 As had been the case with other matters, of differ 
 ence between the two countries, the principal struggle, 
 growing out of the regulations as to tea, occurred at 
 Boston. The other provinces had avoided the alterna 
 tive which was reserved for this, of either suffering the 
 teas to be disposed of, or to destroy them, by violent 
 means. Knowing the spirit of the inhabitants of Boston, 
 the India Company had been more cautious as to the 
 cargoes shipped for that port, than those sent to the 
 other provinces; and the zeal of Governor Hutchinson 
 and the other officers of the crown there, greatly sur 
 passed that of the crown-officers in the other colonies, 
 
XX11 A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 and was calculated to frustrate the measures of the in 
 habitants. The tea ships destined to Boston, were all 
 consigned to the sons, cousins, and persons who were 
 the merest tools of Governor Hutchinson. When called 
 on to resign, the only answer they would give was, "that 
 it was not in their power." As the consignees could not 
 be induced or frightened to resign, the next plan was, to 
 compel the vessels to return without landing their de 
 testable cargoes; but the collector refused to give a 
 clearance without the vessels were discharged of dutia 
 ble articles, and the governor refused to give a pass for 
 the vessels, until they were properly qualified from the 
 custom-house; and to guard against the vessels being 
 taken possession of, and conducted out of the harbour, 
 the governor ordered Admiral Montague, who com 
 manded the naval force, to keep vigilant look out, and 
 to suffer no vessel, coasters excepted,to pass the fortress 
 from the town without a pass signed by himself. The 
 rigorous adherence to these measures, afforded great 
 satisfaction to the governor and his minions, and all the 
 British party; they flattered themselves that the "Sons 
 of Liberty," after all their clamour, resolutions and 
 schemes to resist the tea system, were out-managed, and 
 that it would be impossible for them to prevent the land 
 ing and sale of the obnoxious cargoes. Their meas 
 ures had been planned so wisely and their execution 
 was entrusted to agents of such known fidelity to the 
 crown, and who were under the immediate influence 
 and control of the governor, they thought there was not 
 a loop-hole whereby the rebellious Americans could 
 escape paying the hateful tax. They did not even 
 dream that an attempt would be made to destroy or 
 throw overboard the offensive article, which covered a 
 tribute to Britain ; for if they had, the vessels would 
 have been guarded. The governor, after all he had 
 witnessed and experienced, judging rather from his feel 
 ings than his knowledge, was entirely ignorant of public 
 sentiment, and of the spirit of the people; he had no 
 idea that they had determined to resist the obnoxious 
 measure, at every hazard, even that of life. Nothing 
 short of this bold step, could prevent the deep-laid 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XX111 
 
 scheme, against the liberties of the country from suc 
 ceeding. It had been rendered impossible that the ves 
 sels should return with their cargoes; and to suffer the 
 tea to be landed and trust to the spirit and unanimity of 
 the inhabitants not to purchase it, would have been to 
 yield the point ; for a small portion of the citizens were 
 in favour of the British, and would of course consume 
 the article, and by fair means or foul, it would have been 
 distributed among others. And it would have been 
 equally impracticable to prevent the tea from being 
 landed; the most unwearied watching day and night, 
 could not prevent this, as it might be conveyed ashore, 
 by small quantities in boats in the night season, and at 
 such places as to escape the utmost vigilance. Every 
 other measure had been attempted without success 
 the consignees had been urged to decline the commis 
 sion, and a numerous public meeting of the citizens had 
 been held, who presented a remonstrance to the govern 
 or, and urged him to order back the ships without suffer 
 ing any part of their cargoes to be landed. But his 
 answer satisfied them that he was the adviser of the 
 measure, and determined to carry it into execution. 
 The parties were at issue on the great question on 
 which the liberties of the country hung suspended; 
 whether Great Britain should exercise the power of 
 taxing the Americans in any way, or not. This ques 
 tion depended on the landing of a few cargoes of lea, 
 which had become contaminated with an unconstitution 
 al tax. The colonists were determined that they would 
 not pay the tax, and the British party were determined 
 to carry into effect the tea regulation, and to frustrate 
 the plans of the Americans. Both parties had taken 
 their measures, and the British party were confident of 
 success; the contest was advancing to a crisis; alarm 
 and dismay prevailed ; the deepest anxiety was depict 
 ed in every countenance; had an invading army been 
 in the neighbourhood, threatening to sack the town, or 
 had the pestilence which walks in darkness, ravaged its 
 pavilions, greater consternation could not have prevail 
 ed; greater gloom could not overspread the town, or 
 stronger indications been exhibited, of a pending event 
 
XXIV A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 big with the fate of three millions of people. During 
 this deep and awful suspense, a report was started, 
 which spread with the rapidity of lightning through the 
 town, that Admiral Montague was about to seize the 
 ships and dispose of their cargoes, at public auction, 
 within twenty-four hours; which was believed to be a 
 cunning device of Hutchinson, as this would as effectu 
 ally have secured the duties, as if the teas had been 
 sold at the stores of the consignees. This rumour was 
 like an electric shock; leaving their employments, the 
 people rushed into the streets, and with amazed and 
 terrified countenances, every one seemed to say, what 
 shall we do to prevent the consummation in so bold and 
 daring a manner, of this iniquitous scheme. In a few 
 moments, as if from an instinctive impulse, a vast crowd 
 repaired to one of the most spacious churches in Bos 
 ton, and organised themselves into a public meeting. 
 Previously to taking any other step, a message was sent 
 to the governor and the consignees, who with difficulty 
 could be found, as they were afraid to encounter even 
 the looks of an indignant and injured people. No sat 
 isfactory answers were returned; but instead of com 
 plying with their wishes, whilst the assembled multitude 
 were quietly, notwithstanding the excitet. ent which 
 prevailed, consulting on their critical situation, and the 
 measures proper to be adopted, the sheriff entered with 
 an order from the governor, styling them an illegal and 
 seditious assembly, and ordering them immediately to 
 disperse. But he did not bring with him the posse comi- 
 tatus, as the power of the county was already assem 
 bled, and it was that, the sheriff was ordered to disperse : 
 this mandate was treated with deserved contempt and 
 the sheriff hissed out of the house, mortified and cha 
 grined, and a confused murmur followed not only in the 
 house but among the vast multitude without; but soon 
 order was restored, and the meeting adjourned, without 
 adopting any vote or resolution. The leaders probably 
 supposed that such a meeting was not the place to dis 
 cuss and devise measures to meet the crisis. 
 
 The bold measure was now conceived, and immedi 
 ately proposed for execution, which surprised and agita- 
 
\THICftLED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXV 
 
 ted the two countries, and hurried on that memorable 
 revolution which m;ide them "enemies in war, rind in 
 peace friends." The success of it, as well as the danger 
 attending it, required secrecy and despatch. It has 
 never been known with certainty, either who contrived 
 or executed this bold expedient ; but there is no reason 
 to doubt, but that Mr. Samuel Adams and many of the 
 leaders in the political affairs of the day, were its con 
 trivers, and it is known, that the hall of council was in 
 the back room of Edes & Gill s printing office, at the 
 corner of the alley leading from Court-Street to Brattle 
 Street Church. It is a singular circumstance, that this 
 daring and desperate measure, for the maintenance of 
 the liberties of the country, should have been counselled 
 and contrived in an editorial closet of a newspaper, 
 which was one of the organs of the public voice, and a 
 vigilant sentinel of the liberties of the people. Since 
 this period many political schemes have originated, in 
 the u back rooms" of printing offices, but in general of a 
 very different character. 
 
 In a few hours after the adjournment of the public 
 meeting, the bold measure, on the success of which the 
 great question of taxation hung suspended, was contri 
 ved, matured and ripened for execution; and the public 
 were surprised with the sudden appearance in the 
 streets, of a large number of savages, or persons disguised, 
 clad, and every way counterfeiting the aborigines of 
 the country; armed with a tomahawk in one hand, and 
 a club over the shoulder, who, in a silent and solemn 
 manner, not a voice being heard, marched in Indian file, 
 through the streets amidst a crowd of astonished specta 
 tors, who knew not what to think of so unexpected and 
 strange an exhibition; and its novelty and the surprise 
 which it occasioned, may have prevented any steps 
 being taken to oppose their design. The Indians, whilst 
 strongly attached to tobacco, in this instance at least 
 appeared to have had a mortal antipathy to tea; and as 
 though attracted by its noxious qualities, they proceeded 
 directly towards the wharves where the tea ships lay; 
 boarded them, demanded the keys, and without the least 
 hesitation or delay, knocked open the chests. and emptied 
 
 D 
 
XXVI A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 their contents, duties and all, into the ocean, comprising 
 several thousand weight of the finest teas. The deed 
 was done in the face of the world, and although sur 
 rounded by the king s ships, no opposition was made or 
 attempted; all was silence and amazement. Thus the 
 teas which were designed as a means of extorting tribute 
 from the Americans, become an offering to the "spirits 
 of the vasty deep," and a sacrifice to the liberties of 
 the country. The "Indians" having effected their ob 
 ject, showed no marks of triumph; no savage warwhoop 
 was heard; nor did they commit any other violence or 
 disorder, but in the same silent, solemn and orderly 
 manner, marched back through the town, followed by a 
 vast crowd. No movements on the part of the govern 
 ment, or disturbance by the people, followed this event; 
 and it was observed at the time, trat the stillest night 
 succeeded, which Boston had enjoyed for several 
 months. 
 
 No persons assisted the savages, in the destruction 
 of the tea, except some boys or young men, who had 
 assembled on the occasion, and voluntarily took a part 
 in what was going on; ane of these youths, collected 
 the tea which fell into his own shoes and those of sev 
 eral of his companions, put it in a phial and sealed it up ; 
 which is now in his possession, containing the same ob 
 noxious tea, which in this instance was considered as 
 more dangerous to the political health and constitution of 
 the people, even than strong drink. The number of the 
 savages, manufactured for the occasion, has ben vari 
 ously estimated, from sixty to eighty: although several 
 persons have been mentioned as among the number, none 
 of them have ever been known with certainty; there 
 are many and obvious reasons, why secrecy then, and 
 concealment since were necessary. Not any of those 
 who it has been confidently asserted were of the party, 
 have admitted the fact except some of the boys. Nearly 
 all of the disguised persons have left this scene of strife, 
 and their secret has died with them; and what few re 
 main, if any, will probably be as prudent as those who 
 have gone before them, and like them will suffer their 
 knowledge to be buried with them^ so that the great 
 

 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLt TIO>\ XXV4.1 
 
 secret will shortly be beyond the reach of human re 
 search. The success of this bold and daring measure, 
 astonished Governor Hutchioson and the British pa 
 and seemed to convince him. that the u Sonsof Liberty" 
 were not quite so contemptible as he had represented 
 them in his letters to the ministry; and it even aston 
 ished the whigs, in the other colonies, and contributed 
 to fan the flames of liberty, and give them a deeper 
 glow, and more intense heat, 
 
 \V.ien the intelligence of this evest reached England, 
 accompanied with all the __eration and colouring 
 which Hutchtnson could give to it, it produced the ut 
 most excitement, and indignation with the ministerial 
 party, and even the opponents of the American revenue 
 
 em. could not justify so rash and desperate a me 
 ore. Parliament at once determined to crush the de 
 voted town, which was the seat and cause of this high 
 handed resistance to its supremacy. Its omnipotent 
 power, and all the terrors of its wrath, were to be con 
 centrated and directed against this rebellious town. A 
 bill was immediately introduced to "discontinue the 
 landing and discharging, landing and shipping of goods, 
 wares and merchandise, at the town of Boston, or with- 
 in the harbor." Thk> bill, called the u Boston Port Bill," 
 passed on the 25th of March, 1774* and when it 
 known, threw the inhabitants into the utmost consterna 
 tion. A general meeting was called, and spirited reso 
 lutions adopted % expressive. in strong terms, of their sense 
 of the oppressive measure. aiid they requested all the 
 colonies to unite in an engagement to discontinue all 
 importations from Great Britain ; and most of the colo 
 nies resolved to make common cause with Massachu 
 setts, in her opposition to the unconstitutional measures 
 of parliament. The first of Jane, when the port bill 
 was to go into operation, was appointed to be kept as a 
 of fasting and prayer. This act was soon followed 
 by another, ~for the better regulating government in the 
 province of Massachusetts Bay :" the object of which 
 was to alter the charter, so as to make the judges and 
 sheriffs dependant on the king, and removeable at his 
 pleasure. And this act was soon succeeded by another, 
 
XXVlll A BUMMBRY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 which provided, that, any persons indicted for murder, 
 or other capital offence, committed in aiding the ma 
 gistrates, in enforcing the laws, might be sent by the 
 governor either to any other colony, or to Great Britain 
 forhistrtal. The Quebec Bill followed in rapid suc 
 cession, enlarging the bound of that province, and con 
 ferring many privileges on the Roman Catholics; the 
 design of which was to secure the attachment of that 
 province, and prevent its joining with the colonies in 
 their measures of resistance. These measures instead 
 of intimidating the colonies into submission, only con 
 firmed their fears of the settled designs of Great Brit 
 ain to deprive them of their chartered rights, and reduce 
 the colonies to the lowest state of political degradation 
 and oppression. A sense of common danger led to an 
 extensive correspondence, which resulted in the opinion 
 that it was expedient to convene a general congress, to 
 consist of deputies from all the colonies. This congress 
 met at Philadelphia on the 5th of September, 1774; and 
 comprised among its members, some of the most distin 
 guished patriots, statesmen and orators in the country, 
 or perhaps in any other. Notwithstanding the ferment 
 which prevailed in most of the colonies, their proceed 
 ings were characterised by collness, unanimity and 
 firmness. 
 
 They published a long and solemn declaration of 
 rights, as British subjects, and maintained in the stron 
 gest terms, their exemption from taxation by parliament: 
 besides which, they prepared a petition to the king, 
 which was refused to be answered; an address to the 
 people of Great Britain, and another to the people of 
 America. These documents were drawn up with a 
 masterly hand, and exhibited great dignity and ability, 
 and were in every respect worthy of the men who had 
 confided to them the liberties of their country, and the 
 destinies of three millions of their countrymen, threat 
 ened with slavery. 
 
 The proceedings of congress did not tend to allay 
 public feeling, and as the royal agents in Massachusetts 
 seemed determined to push matters to extremities, and 
 reduce the people to unconditional submission, by arbi- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXIX 
 
 trary and forcible means, every thing now wore the ap 
 pearance of civil war. A new council, and new judges 
 were appointed by the crown ; and the latter attempted 
 to enter upon the execution of their offices; but the 
 juries refused to be sworn under them; the people in 
 some counties assembled to prevent their proceedings, 
 and in Berkshire succeeded, thus setting an example, 
 which was afterwards followed by Shays men, in viola 
 tion of the laws of the state. About this time the fa 
 mous "Tree of Liberty," in Boston, which had been 
 pruned and ornamented with so much pride and care, 
 "fell a victim to British vengeance, or to some individual 
 to whom its shade had become offensive." 
 
 Previously to this period, General Gage had succeed 
 ed Hutchinson as Goveror of Massachusetts; and, ap 
 prehending danger from a general muster of the militia, 
 he caused the magazines and ammunition at Charles- 
 town and Cambridge, to be removed to Boston, and 
 fortified the neck of land which joins Boston to the main 
 land, at Roxbury. These measures occasioned an uni 
 versal panic; delegates from all the towns in the county 
 of Suffolk met, and spirited resolutions, and a remon 
 strance to the governor, were adoped. The general 
 assembly had been summoned to meet at Salem; but 
 from the turbulence of the times, the governor issued his 
 proclamation, countermanding their meeting; yet, in 
 defiance of the governor s mandate, ninety members 
 met, resolved themselves into a provincial congress, 
 chose Mr. Hancock president, and adjourned to Con 
 cord, nineteen miles from Boston, They fearlessly pro 
 ceeded to business; after addressing the governor, and 
 reiterating their grievances; in the face of British law 
 and British troops, they proceed to adopt the first meas 
 ures, which were taken, directly and avowedly prepara 
 tory to an appeal to the sword, in defence of their rights 
 and liberties; they regulated the militia, made provis 
 ion for furnishing the people with arms, and for supplying 
 the treasury; and such was the enthusiasm of the peo 
 ple, that their recommendations had the force of law. 
 Governor Gage was tilled with rage at these daring 
 proceedings, and issued a proclamation, in which he 
 insinuated that they amounted to rebellion. 
 
XXX A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 Early in 1775, parliament passed the fishery bills, 
 which prohibited the colonies from trading in fish with 
 Great Britain, Ireland and the West Indies, and from 
 taking fish on the banks of Newfoundland. These acts 
 were intended to operate on the town of Boston, which 
 had become the devoted object of ministerial wrath. 
 The various statues, which were passed, occasioned 
 deep and general distress in Boston and its vicinity; but 
 their brethren in the other colonies sympathized with 
 them, and promptly supplied them with provisions of 
 every description for the relief of the sufferers. 
 
 This policy of the British government was not only 
 oppressive, but mean and contemptible. Partial legis^ 
 lation is always odious and tyrannical ; yet it consisted 
 with the justice and dignity of the British nation; and 
 a series of acts were passed, and the power of the na 
 tion exerted, to crush the town of Boston, because it had 
 shewn a more determined spirit of resistance to their 
 oppressive and unconstitutional measures than had ap 
 peared in other places. The ministry were not sensi 
 ble that the colonies considered themselves all engaged 
 in a common cause ; they were in hopes to humble and 
 crush the rebellious inhabitants of that devoted town, 
 which they thought would be such a terrific example as 
 would frighten all the colonies into submission. But 
 their wicked designs recoiled on the heads of their au 
 thors; for these oppressive measures towards the Bos- 
 tonians, only served to exasperate the people throughout 
 all the colonies, who regarded them as cruel and de 
 testable. 
 
 In March 1775, the public indignation was greatly 
 excited by the following base and most shameful trans* 
 actions: 
 
 The people from the country, whose business called 
 them into Boston, were suspected by the officers of pur 
 chasing guns from their soldiers. In order to furnish an 
 opportunity to inflict punishment, ami to raise occasion 
 for a serious quarrel, Lieutenant-Colonel Nesbit, of the 
 forty-seventh regiment, ordered a soldier to offer a coun 
 tryman an old rusty musket. A man from Billerica was 
 caught by this bait, and purchased the gun for three dol- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXXI 
 
 lars. The unfortunate man was immediately seized by 
 Nesbit and confined in the guard house all night. Early 
 next morning they stripped him entirely naked, covered 
 him over with warm tar, and then with feathers, placed 
 him on a cart and conducted him through the streets as 
 far as liberty-tree, where the people began to collect in 
 vast numbers, and the military, fearing for their own 
 safety, dismissed the man, and retreated to their bar 
 racks. The party consisted of about thirty grenadiers, 
 with fixed bayonets, twenty drums and fifes playing the 
 rogue s inarch, headed by the redoubtable Nesbit with 
 a drawn sword! What an honorable deed for a British 
 field officer and grenadiers! The selectmen of Billerica 
 remonstrated with General Gage respecting this outrage, 
 but obtained no satisfaction. * 
 
 It was about this time that the following ludicrous 
 occurrence took place: 
 
 "Some British officers, soon after Gage s arrival in 
 Boston, walking on Beacon Hill, after sunset, were af 
 frighted by noises in the air, (supposed to be flying bugs 
 and beetles,) which they took to be the sound of bullets. 
 They left the hill with great precipitation, spread the 
 alarm in their encampment, and wrote terrible accounts 
 to England of being shot at with air-guns, as appeared 
 by their letters, extracts of which were soon after pub 
 lished in London papers. Indeed, for some time they 
 really believed that the Americans were possessed of 
 a kind of magic white powder, which exploded and 
 killed without a report." In that much celebrated and 
 admirable poem of the day, M Fingal, the circumstance 
 is thus satirized: 
 
 " No more the British colonel runs 
 From whizzing beetles as air guns; 
 Thinks horn-bugs, bullets, or through fear 
 Musketoes takes for musketeers; 
 Nor scapes, as if you d gain d supplies 
 From Beelzebub s whole host of flies, 
 No bug these warlike hearts appals 
 They better know the sound of balls." 
 
 The breach between Britain and the colonies had now 
 become so wide, as with the mass of the people, nearly 
 
 Thacher s Military Journat. 
 
XXX II A SUMMARY VIEW OF THF CAUSES 
 
 to exclude all ideas of conciliation; and both parties 
 began to make preparations for an appeal to the sword. 
 No alternative was left the Americans but slavery, or 
 resistance by force; measures were adopted for training 
 the militia to the use of arms, to encourage the manu 
 facture of gun-powder, and for collecting all kinds of 
 military stores; and committees of public safety were 
 appointed in all the towns in the province. The Brit 
 ish government sent out a re-inforcement of troops to 
 Boston, and in the mean time Gevernor Gage attempted 
 to counteract the designs and measures of the provin 
 cials, and particularly to sieze or destroy their military 
 stores, and thus to deprive them of the means of resis 
 tance. To destroy the military stores at Concord, Gen. 
 Gage despatched in a secret manner, a regiment of 
 grenadiers, who undertook to disperse, and fired upon a 
 party of militia at Lexington, several of whom were 
 killed, which was the first blood spilt in that memorable 
 war and revolution, that separated Great Britain and 
 America forever; and gave to the latter not only a rank 
 among the nations of the earth, but what only can ex 
 alt a nation LIBERTY and free institutions, which are 
 the durable foundations of its glory and rising prosperity ; 
 its tranquility and happiness, its increasing population 
 and wealth, the rapidity of which is unexampled in the 
 annals of the world. 
 
THE 
 
 AMERICAN MILITARY BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 ETHAN ALLEX, 
 
 Brigadier General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL ALLEN was born in Salisbury, Conn, from 
 whence, while he was yet young, his parents emigrated 
 to Vermont. By this circumstance he was deprived of 
 the advantages of an early education. But, although 
 he never felt its genial influence, nature had endowed 
 him with strong powers of mind; and when called to 
 take the field, he showed himself an able leader, and an 
 intrepid soldier. 
 
 At the commencement of the disturbances in Vermont, 
 about the year 1770, he took a most active part in favor 
 of the Green Mountain Boys, as the first settlers were 
 then called, in opposition to the government of New 
 York. Bold, enterprising, and ambitious, he undertook 
 to direct the proceedings of the inhabitants, and wrote 
 several pamphlets to display :he supposed injustice and 
 oppressive designs of the Nev York proceedings. The 
 uncultivated roughness of his own temper and manners, 
 seems to have assisted him in giving a just description 
 of the views and proceedings of speculating land-job 
 bers. His writings produced effects so hostile to the 
 views of the state of New York, that an act of out-lawry 
 was passed against him, aad five hundred guineas were 
 offered for his apprehension. But his party was too 
 numerous and faithful to permit him to be disturbed by 
 any apprehensions for his safety. In all the struggles 
 of the day he was successful, and proved a valuable 
 friend to those whose cause he had espoused. 
 
34 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 The news of the battle of Lexington determined Allen 
 to engage on tlie side of his country, and inspired him with 
 the desire of demonstrating his attachment to liberty, by 
 some bold exploit. While in this state of mind, a plan 
 for taking Ticonderoga and Crown Point, by surprise, 
 which was formed by several gentlemen in Connecticut, 
 was communicated to him,,and he readily engaged in 
 the project. Receiving directions from the General 
 Assembly of Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain 
 Boys, and conduct the enterprise, he collected 230 of 
 the hardy settlers, and proceeded to Castleton. Here 
 lie was unexpectedly joined by Col. Arnold, who had 
 been commissioned by the Massachusetts committee to 
 raise 400 men, and effect the same object which was 
 now about to be accomplished. They reached the lake 
 opposite Ticonderoga, on the evening of the 9th of May, 
 1775. With the utmost difficulty boats were procured, 
 and eighty-three men were landed near the garrison. 
 Arnold now wished to assume the command, to lead on 
 the men, and swore that he would go in himself the first. 
 Allen swore that he should not. The dispute beginning 
 to run high, some of the gentlemen present interposed, 
 and it was agreed that both should go in together, Allen 
 on the right hand, and Arnold on the left. The follow* 
 ing is Allen s own account of the affair: 
 
 4t The first systematical and bloody attempt at Lex 
 ington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my 
 mind, and fully determined me to take a part with my 
 country. And while I w? t s wishing for an opportunity 
 to signalize myself in its behalf, directions were private 
 ly sent to me from the then colony, now state of Con 
 necticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys, and if 
 possible with them to surprise and take the ifortress of 
 Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully undertook; 
 and after first guarding all the several passes that lead 
 thither, to cut off all intelligence between the garrison 
 and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, 
 and arrived at the lake opposite Ticonderoga, on the 
 evening of the 9th day of May, 1775, with two hun 
 dred and thirty valiant Green Mountain Boys; and it 
 was with the utmost difficulty that 1 procured boats to 
 
ETHAN ALLEN. 35 
 
 cross the lake. However I landed eighty-three men 
 near the garrison, and sent the boats back for tiie rea* 
 guard, commanded by Col. Seth Warner; but the day 
 began to dawn, and I found myself necessitated to attack 
 the fort, before the rear could crossthe lake; and asit was 
 viewed hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers 
 in the manner following; " Friends and fellow-soldiers. 
 You have, for a number of years past, been a scourge 
 and terror to arbitrary powers. Your valour has been 
 famed abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the ad 
 vice and orders to me from the general assembly of Con 
 necticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before 
 us. I now propose to advance before you, and in person 
 conduct you through the wicket gate; for we must this 
 morning either quit our pretensions to valour, or possess- 
 ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes; and inasmuch 
 as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest 
 of men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary 
 to his will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise 
 your firelock." 
 
 " The men being at this time drawn up in three ranks, 
 each poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the 
 right; and at the head of the centre file marched them 
 immediately to the wicket gate aforesaid, where I found 
 a sentry posted, who instantly snapped his fusee at me. 
 I ran immediately towards him, and he retreated through 
 the covered way into the parade within the garrison, 
 gave a halloo, and ran under a bomb proof. My party 
 who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade 
 in such a manner, as to face the barracks which faced 
 each other. The garrison being asleep, except the sen 
 tries, we gave three huzzas, which greatly surprised 
 them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my 
 officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded 
 him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword, 
 but in an instant I altered the design and fury of the 
 blow to a slight cut on the side of the head; upon which 
 he dropped his gun and asked quarters, which I readily 
 granted him; and demanded the place where the com 
 manding officer kept. He showed me a pair of stairs 
 ia the front of the garrison, which led up to a second 
 
30 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 story in said barracks, to which I immediately repaired, 
 and ordered the commander, Captain Delaplace to come 
 forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison : 
 At which time the captain came immediately to the 
 door, with his breeches in his hand, when I ordered him 
 to deliver to me the fort instantly; he asked me by what 
 authority I demanded it. I answered him, " In the name 
 of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress."- 
 The authority of congress being very little known at 
 that time, he began to speak again, but I interrupted 
 him, and with my drawn sword near his head again de 
 manded an immediate surrender of the garrison; with 
 which he then complied, and ordered his men to be 
 forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the 
 garrison. In the mean time, some of my officers had 
 given orders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of the 
 barrack doors were beat down, and about one third of 
 the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of said com 
 mander, a Lieutenant Feltham, a conductor of artillery, 
 a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file; 
 about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen inch 
 mortar, and a number of swivels. This surprise was 
 carried into execution in the gray of the morning of the 
 10th of May, 1775, The sun seemed to rise that morn 
 ing with a superior lustre; and Ticonderoga and its 
 dependencies smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about 
 the flowing bowl, and wished success to Congress, and 
 the liberty and freedom of America. Happy it was for 
 me, at that time, that the future pages of the book of 
 fate, which afterward unfolded a miserable scene of two 
 years and ei#ht months imprisonment, were hid from my 
 view." 
 
 This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high reputa 
 tion for intrepid valour throughout the country. In the 
 fall of 1775, he was sent twice into Canada to observe 
 the dispositions of the people, and attach them if possi 
 ble to the American cause. During one of these excur 
 sions he made a rash and romantic attempt upon Mon 
 treal. He had been sent to General Montgomery with a 
 guard of eighty men on a tour into the villages in the 
 neighbourhood. On his return he was met by a Major 
 
ETIIAX ALLEN . 37 
 
 Brown, who had been on the same business. It was 
 agreed between them to make a descent upon the island 
 of Montreal. Allen was to cross the river, and land 
 with his party a little north of the city; while Brown 
 was to pass over a little to the south, with near 200 
 men. Allen crossed the river in the night as had been 
 proposed, but by some means Brown and his party fail 
 ed. Instead of returning, Allen, with great rashness 
 concluded to maintain his ground. General Carlton soon 
 received intelligence of Allen s situation and the small- 
 ness of his numbers, and marched out against him with 
 obout 40 regulars and a considerable number of English. 
 Canadians, and Indians, amounting, in the whole, to 
 some hundreds. Allen attempted to defend himself, but 
 it was to no purpose. Being deserted by several of his 
 men, and having fifteen killed, he, with thirty-eight of 
 his men, were taken prisoners. 
 
 He was now kept for some time in irons, and was 
 treated with the most rigorous and unsparing cruelty. 
 From his narrative it appears that the irons placed on 
 him were uncommonly heavy, and so fastened, that he 
 could not lie down, otherwise than on his back. A chest 
 was his seat by day and his bed by night. Soon after 
 his capture, still loaded with irons, he was sent to Eng 
 land, being assured that the halter would be the reward 
 of his rebellion when he arrived there. Finding that 
 threats and menaces had no effect upon him, high com 
 mand nndalargc tract of the conquered country wasafter- 
 ward offered him, on condition he would join the British. 
 To the last he replied, "that he viewed their offer of 
 conquered U. States land to be similar to that which the 
 devil offered to Jesus Christ: to give him all the king 
 doms of the world, if he would fall down and worship 
 him, when, at the same time, the poor devil had not one 
 foot of land upon earth." 
 
 After his arrival, about the middle of December, he 
 was lodged, for a short time, in Pendennis Castle, near 
 Falmouth. On the 8th of January, 1776, he was put on 
 board a frigate, and by a circuitous route again carried 
 to Halifax. Here he remained closely confined in the 
 jail from June to October, when he was removed to New 
 
38 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 York. During the passage to this place, captain Burke, 
 a daring prisoner, proposed to kill the British captain, 
 and seize the frigate ; but Allen refused to engage in the 
 plot, and was probably the means of saving the life of 
 captain Smith, who had treated him with kindness. He 
 was kept at New York about a year and a half, some 
 times imprisoned, and sometimes permitted to be on 
 parole. While here he had an opportunity to observe 
 the inhuman manner in which the American prisoners 
 were treated. In one of the churches in which they 
 were crowded, he saw seven lying dead atone time, and 
 others biting pieces of chips from hunger. He calcula 
 ted, that of the prisoners taken on Long-Island and at 
 Fort Washington, near 2000 perished by hunger and 
 cold, or in consequence of diseases occasioned by the 
 impurity of their prisons. 
 
 Col. Allen was exchanged for a Col. Campbell, May 
 6th, 1778, and after having repaired to head quarters, 
 and offered his services to General Washington, in case 
 his health should be restored, he returned to Vermont. 
 His arrival on the evening of the last day of May,gave his 
 friends great joy, and it was announced by the discharge 
 of cannon. As an expression of confidence in his pat 
 riotism and military talents, he was very soon appointed 
 to the command of the state militia. His intrepidity, 
 however, was never again brought to the test, though his 
 patriotism was tried by an unsuccessful attempt of the 
 British to bribe him to attempt a union of Vermont with 
 Canada. He died suddenly on his estate, February 
 13th, 1789. 
 
 Gen. Allen was brave, humane, and generous ; yet his 
 conduct does not seem to have been much influenced by 
 considerations respecting that holy and merciful Being, 
 whose character and whose commands are disclosed to 
 us in the Scriptures. His notions with regard to reli 
 gion were loose and absurd. He believed with Pytha 
 goras, the heathen philosopher, that man, after death, 
 would transmigrate into beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, 
 &c, and often informed his friends that he himself ex 
 pected to live again in the form of a large white horse. 
 
"WILLIAM ALEXANDER. 39 
 
 WILLIAM ALEXANDER, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL ALEXANDER, commonly called Lord Stirling, 
 was a native of the city of New-York. He was consid 
 ered, by many, as the rightful heir to the title and estate 
 of an earldom in Scotland, of which country his father 
 was a native; and although when he went to North 
 Britain in pursuit of this inheritance, he failed of ob 
 taining an acknowledgment of his claim by government, 
 yet, among his friends and acquaintances, he received, 
 by courtesy, the title of Lord Stirling. In his youth his 
 labours were arduous in the pursuit of science, and he 
 discovered an early fondness for the study of mathemat 
 ics and astronomy, in which he attained great eminence. 
 
 At the commencement of the revolutionary war, he 
 attached himself to the cause of America, and entered 
 the field against her enemies. He was a brave, dis 
 cerning, and intrepid officer. In the battle on Long-Is 
 land, August 27th, 1776, he shared largely in the glory 
 and disasters of the day. The part he bore in that en 
 gagement is described as follows: "The fire towards 
 Brooklyn gave the first intimation to the American right 
 that the enemy had gained their rear. Lord Stirling, 
 perceiving the danger with which he was threatened, 
 and that he could only escape it by instantly retreating 
 across the creek, by the Yellow Mills, not far from the 
 cove, orders to this effect were immediately given, and 
 the more effectually to secure the retreat of the main 
 body of the detachment, he determined to attack, in 
 person, a corps of the British, under Lord Cornwallis, 
 stationed at a house somewhat above the place at which 
 he proposed crossing the creek. About four hundred 
 men were chosen out for this purpose; and the attack 
 was made with great spirit. This small corps was 
 brough t up to the charge several rimes, and Lord Stir 
 ling stated that he was on the point of dislodging Lord 
 Cornwallis from his post: but the force in his front in 
 creasing, and General Grant also advancing on his rear, 
 the brave men he commanded was no longer able to op 
 pose the superior numbers which assailed them on every 
 
42 DAMEL BOONE. 
 
 "It was on the first of May, 1769, that I resigned my 
 domestic happiness, and left my family and peaceful 
 habitation on the Yadkin River, in North-Carolina, to 
 wander through the wilderness of America, in quest of 
 the country of Kentucky, in company with John Firiley, 
 John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and William 
 Cool. On the seventh of June, after travelling through 
 a mountainous wilderness, in a western direction, we 
 found ourselves on Red River, where John Finley had 
 formerly been trading with the Indians; and from the 
 top of an eminence saw with pleasure, the beautiful 
 level of Kentucky. For some time we had experienced 
 the most uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, 
 made a shelter to defend us from the inclement season, 
 and began to hunt and reconnoitre the country. We 
 found abundance of wild beasts in this vast forest. The 
 buffaloes were more numerous than cattle on other set 
 tlements, browzing upon the leaves of the cane, or crop 
 ping the herbage of these extensive plains. We saw 
 hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt 
 springs w r ere amazing. In the forest, the habitation of 
 beasts of every American kind, we hunted with success 
 until December. On the 22d of December, John Stuart 
 and I had a pleasing ramble; but fortune changed the 
 day at the close of it. We had passed through a great 
 forest, in which stood myriads of trees, some gay with 
 blossoms, others rich with fruits. Nature had here a 
 series of wonders and a fund of delights. Here she 
 displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of 
 flowers and fruits, beautifully coloured, elegantly shaped, 
 and charmingly flavoured; and we were diverted with 
 numberless animals presenting themselves perpetually 
 to our view. In the decline of the day, near the Ken 
 tucky River, as we descended the brow of a small hill. 
 a number of Indians rushed out of a thick cane brake 
 and made us prisoners. They plundered us, and kept us 
 in confinement seven days. During this time, we dis 
 covered no uneasiness or desire to escape, which made 
 them less suspicious; but in the dead of night, as we 
 lay by a large fire in a thick cane brake, when sleep had 
 locked up their senses, my situation not disposing me 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 43 
 
 to rest, I gently awoke my companion. We seized this 
 favourable opportunity and departed, directing our 
 course towards our old camp; but found it plundered 
 and our companions dispersed or gone home. About 
 this time, my brother, Squire Boone, with another ad 
 venturer, who came to explore the country shortly after 
 us, was wandering through the forest, and accidentally 
 found our camp. Notwithstanding our unfortunate cir 
 cumstances, and our dangerous situation, surrounded by 
 hostile savages, our meeting fortunately in the wilder 
 ness gave us the most sensible satisfaction. Soon after 
 this, my companion in captivity, John Stuart, was killed 
 by the savages; and the man that came with my broth 
 er returned home by himself. We were then in a dan 
 gerous, helpless situation, exposed daily to perils and 
 death, among savages and wild beasts, not a white man 
 in the country but ourselves. Thus, many hundred 
 miles from our families, in the howling wilderness, we 
 did not continue in a state of indolence, but hunted eve 
 ry day, and prepared a little cottage to protect us from 
 the winter storms. We met with no disturbance during 
 the winter. On the first of May, 1770, my brother re 
 turned home by himself, for a new recruit of horses and 
 ammunition, leaving me alone, without bread, salt, or 
 sugar, or even a horse or dog. I passed a few days un 
 comfortably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, 
 and their anxiety on my account, would have exposed 
 me to melancholy, if I had further indulged the thought. 
 One day I undertook a tour through the country, when 
 the diversity and beauties of nature I met with in this 
 charming season, expelled every gloomy thought. Just 
 at the close of the day, the gentle gales ceased; a pro 
 found calm ensued; not a breath shook the tremulous 
 leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, 
 and looking round with astonishment and delight, beheld 
 the ample plains and beauteous tracts below. On one 
 hand the famous Ohio, rolling in silent dignity, and mark 
 ing the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceiv 
 able grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the moun 
 tains lift their venerable brows and penetrate the clouds. 
 All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain 
 
42 DAMEL BOONE. 
 
 "It was on the first of May, 1769, that I resigned my 
 domestic happiness, and left my family and peaceful 
 habitation on the Yadkin River, in North-Carolina, to 
 wander through the wilderness of America, in quest of 
 the country of Kentucky, in company with John Finley, 
 John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and William 
 Cool. On the seventh of June, after travelling through 
 a mountainous wilderness, in a western direction, we 
 found ourselves on Red River, where John Finley had 
 formerly been trading with the Indians; and from the 
 top of an eminence saw with pleasure, the beautiful 
 level of Kentucky. For some time we had experienced 
 the most uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, 
 made a shelter to defend us from the inclement season, 
 and began to hunt and reconnoitre the country. We 
 found abundance of wild beasts in this vast forest. The 
 buffaloes were more numerous than cattle on other set 
 tlements, browzing upon the leaves of the cane, or crop 
 ping the herbage of these extensive plains. We saw 
 hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt 
 springs were amazing. In the forest, the habitation of 
 beasts of every American kind, we hunted with success 
 until December. On the 22d of December, John Stuart 
 and I had a pleasing ramble; but fortune changed the 
 day at the close of it. We had passed through a great 
 forest, in which stood myriads of trees, some gay with 
 blossoms, others rich with fruits. Nature had here a 
 series of wonders and a fund of delights. Here she 
 displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of 
 flowers and fruits, beautifully coloured, elegantly shaped, 
 and charmingly flavoured; and we were diverted with 
 numberless animals presenting themselves perpetually 
 to our view. In the decline of the day, near the Ken 
 tucky River, as we descended the brow of a small hill, 
 a number of Indians rushed out of a thick cane brake 
 and made us prisoners. They plundered us, and kept us 
 in confinement seven days. During this time, we dis 
 covered no uneasiness or desire to escape, which made 
 them less suspicious; but in the dead of night, as we 
 lay by a large fire in a thick cane brake, when sleep had 
 locked up their senses, my situation not disposing me 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 43 
 
 to rest, I gently awoke my companion. We seized this 
 favourable opportunity and departed, directing our 
 course towards our old camp; but found it plundered 
 and our companions dispersed or gone home. About 
 this time, my brother, Squire Boone, with another ad 
 venturer, who came to explore the country shortly after 
 us, was wandering through the forest, and accidentally 
 found our camp. Notwithstanding our unfortunate cir 
 cumstances, and our dangerous situation, surrounded by 
 hostile savages, our meeting fortunately in the wilder 
 ness gave us the most sensible satisfaction. Soon after 
 this, my companion in captivity, John Stuart, was killed 
 by the savages; and the man that came with my broth 
 er returned home by himself. We were then in a dan 
 gerous, helpless situation, exposed daily to perils and 
 death, among savages and wild beasts, not a white man 
 in the country but ourselves. Thus, many hundred 
 miles from our families, in the howling wilderness, we 
 did not continue in a state of indolence, but hunted eve 
 ry day, and prepared a little cottage to protect us from 
 the winter storms. We met with no disturbance during 
 the winter. On the first of May, 1770, my brother re 
 turned home by himself, for a new recruit of horses and 
 ammunition, leaving me alone, without bread, salt, or 
 sugar, or even a horse or dog. I passed a few days un 
 comfortably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, 
 and their anxiety on niy account, would have exposed 
 me to melancholy, if I had further indulged the thought. 
 One day I undertook a tour through the country, when 
 the diversity and beauties of nature I met with in this 
 charming season, expelled every gloomy thought. Just 
 at the close of the day, the gentle gales ceased; a pro 
 found calm ensued; not a breath shook the tremulous 
 leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, 
 and looking round with astonishment and delight, beheld 
 the ample plains and beauteous tracts below. On one 
 hand the famous Ohio, rolling in silent dignity, and mark 
 ing the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceiv 
 able grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the moun 
 tains lift their venerable brows and penetrate the clouds. 
 All thinsrs were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain 
 
44 1>AMEL BOONE. 
 
 of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which 
 a few hours before, I had killed. The shades of night 
 soon overspread the hemisphere, and the earth seemed 
 to gasp after the hovering moisture. My excursion had 
 fatigued my body and amused my mind. I laid me 
 down to sleep, and awoke not until the sun had chased 
 away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few 
 days explored a great part of the country, each day 
 equally pleased as the first; after which I returned to 
 my old camp, which had not been disturbed in rny ab 
 sence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often 
 reposed in thick cane breakes, to avoid the savages, 
 who, I believed, often visited my camp, but fortunately 
 during my absence. No populous city, with all the va 
 rieties of commerce and stately structures, could afford 
 so much pleasure to my mind as the beauties of nature I 
 found in this country. Until the 27th of July I spent the 
 time in an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, 
 when my brother, to my great felicity, met me, accor 
 ding to appointment, at our old camp. Soon after we 
 left the place, and proceeded to Cumberland River, re- 
 connoitering that part of the country, and giving names to 
 the different rivers. In March, 1771, I returned home 
 to my family, being determined to bring them as soon as 
 possible, at the risk of my life and fortune, to reside in 
 Kentucky, which I esteemed a second paradise. On 
 my return, I found my family in happy circumstances. 
 I sold my farm at Yadkin, and what goods we could not 
 carry with us; and on the 25th of September, 1773, we 
 bade farewell to our friends, and proceeded on our 
 journey to Kentucky, in company with five more families, 
 and forty men that joined us in Powell s valley, which 
 is one hundred and fifty miles from the now settled parts 
 of Kentucky; but this promising beginning was soon 
 overcast with a cloud of adversity. On the 10th of 
 October, the rear of our company was attacked by a 
 number of Indians, who killed six and wounded one man. 
 Of these my eldest son was one that fell in the action. 
 Though we repulsed the enemy, yet this unhappy affair 
 scattered our cattle, brought us into extreme diffi 
 culty, and so discouraged the whole company, that wr 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 45 
 
 retreated forty miles to Clench River. We had passed 
 over two mountains, Powell s and Walden s, and were 
 approaching Cumberland mountain, when this adverse 
 fortune overtook us. These mountains are in the wil 
 derness, in passing from the old settlements in Virginia 
 to Kentucky, are ranged in a S. W. and N. E. direction, 
 are of great length and breadth, and not far distant from 
 each other. Over them, nature has formed passes, less 
 difficult than might be expected from the view of such 
 huge piles. The aspect of these cliffs is so wild and 
 horrid, that it is impossible to behold them without ter 
 ror. Until the 6th of June, 1774,1 remained with my 
 family on the Clench, when I and Michael Stoner were 
 solicited by Governor Dunmore of Virginia, to conduct 
 a number of surveyors to the falls of Ohio. This was a 
 tour of near eight hundred miles, and took us sixty-two 
 days. On my return, Governor Dunmore gave me the 
 command of three garrisons, during the campaign against 
 the Shawanese. In March, 1775, at the solicitation of 
 a number of gentlemen of North-Carolina, I attended 
 their treaty at VVataga, with the Cherokee Indians, to 
 purchase the lands on the south side of Kentucky River. 
 After this I undertook to make out a road in the best 
 passage from the settlements, through the wilderness to 
 Kentucky. Having collected a number of enterprising 
 men, well armed, I soon began this work. We proceed 
 ed until we came within fifteen miles of where Boons- 
 borough now stands, where the Indians attacked us, and 
 killed two, and wounded two more. This was the 20th 
 of March, 1775. Three days after they attacked us 
 again; we had two killed and three wounded. After 
 this we proceeded on to Kentucky River without oppo 
 sition. On the first of April we began to erect the fort 
 of Boonsborough, at a salt lick, sixty yards from the 
 river, on the south side. On the 4th, they killed one of 
 our men. On the 14th of June, having finished the fort, 
 I returned to my family, on the Clench. Soon after, 1 
 removed my family to this fort: we arrived safe; my 
 wife and daughters being the first white women that 
 stood on the banks of Kentucky River. December 24th 
 the Indians killed one man and wounded another, 
 
46 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 seeming determined to persecute us for erecting this 
 fort. July 14th, 1776, two of Colonel Colway s daugh 
 ters and one of mine, were taken prisoners near the fort: 
 I immediately pursued the Indians with only eighteen 
 men. On the 16th I overtook them, killed two of them, 
 and recovered the girls. The Indians had divided them 
 selves into several parties, and attacked, on the same 
 day, all our settlements and forts, doing a great deal of 
 mischief. The husbandman was shot dead in the field, 
 and most of the cattle were destroyed. They continu 
 ed their hostilities until the 15th of April, 1777, when a 
 party of one hundred of them attacked Boonsborough, 
 and killed one man, and wounded four. July 4th they at- 
 tcaked it again with two hundred men, and killed us one, 
 and wounded two. They remained forty-eight hours, 
 during which we killed seven of them. All the settle 
 ments were attacked at the same time. July 19th, 
 Colonel Logan s fort was besieged by two hundred In 
 dians. They did much mischief: there were only fifteen 
 men in the fort; they killed two and wounded four of 
 them. Indians loss unknown. July 25th, twenty-five 
 men came from Carolina. About August 20th, Colonel 
 Bowman arrived with one hundred men from Virginia. 
 Now we began to strengthen, and had skirmishes with 
 the Indians almost every day. The savages now learn 
 ed the superiority of the long knife, as they call the 
 Virginians; being out-generalled almost in every battle. 
 Our affairs began to wear a new aspect; the enemy did 
 not now venture open war, but practised secret mischief. 
 January 1st, 1778, 1 went with thirty men to the Blue 
 Licks, on the Licking River, to make salt for the differ 
 ent garrisons. February 7th, hunting by myself, to pro 
 cure meat for the company, I met a party of one hundred 
 and two Indians, and two Frenchmen, marching against 
 Boonsborough. They pursued and took me. The next 
 day I capitulated for my men, knowing they could not 
 escape. They were twenty-seven in number, three hav 
 ing gone home with salt. The Indians, according to the 
 capitulation, used us generously. They carried us to 
 Old Chiiicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little 
 Miami. On the 18th of February we arrived there. 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 47 
 
 after an uncomfortable journey, in very severe weather. 
 On the 10th of March, I and ten of my men were con 
 ducted to Detroit. On the 30th we arrived there, and 
 were treated by Governor Hamilton, the British com 
 mander at that post, with great humanity. The Indi 
 ans had such an affection for me, that they refused one 
 hundred pounds sterling offered them by the governor, 
 if they would leave me with the others, on purpose that 
 he might send me home on my parole. Several English 
 gentlemen there, sensible of my adverse fortune, and 
 touched with sympathy, generously offered to supply my 
 wants, which I declined with many thanks, adding, that 
 I never expected it would be in my power to recompense 
 such unmerited generosity. On the 10th of April they 
 brought me towards Old Chilicothe, where we arrived 
 on the 25th day of the same month. This was a long 
 and fatigueing march through an exceeding fertile coun 
 try, remarkable for fine springs and streams of water. 
 At Chilicothe I spent my time as comfortably as I could 
 expect; was adopted, according to their custom, into a 
 family, where I became a son, and had a great share in 
 the affections of my new parents, brothers, sisters, and 
 friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly with 
 them, always appearing as cheerful and satisfied as pos 
 sible, and they put great confidence in me. I often went 
 a hunting with them, and frequently gained their ap 
 plause for my activity; at our shooting matches, I was 
 careful not to exceed many of them in shooting; for no 
 people are more envious than they are in this sport, I 
 could observe in their countenances and gestures the 
 greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded me, and 
 when the reverse happened, of envy. The Shawanese 
 king took great notice of me, and treated with profound 
 respect and entire friendship, often intrusted me to hunt 
 at my liberty. I frequently returned with the spoils of 
 the woods, and as often presented some of what I had 
 taken to him, expressive of my duty to my sovereign. 
 My food and lodging was in common with them ; not so 
 good, indeed, as I could desire, but necessity made eve 
 ry thing acceptable. I now began to meditate an escape, 
 but carefully avoided giving suspicion. Until the 1st of 
 
48 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 June I continued at Old Chilicothe, and then was taken 
 to the salt springs on the Sciota, and kept there ten days 
 making salt. During this time I hunted with them, and 
 found the land, for a great extent about this river, to 
 exceed the soil of Kentucky, if possible, and remarka 
 bly well watered. On my return to Chilicothe, 450 of 
 the choicest Indian warriors were ready to march a- 
 gainst Boonsborough, painted and armed in a dreadful 
 manner. This alarmed me, and I determined to escape. 
 On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I went off secretly, 
 and reached Boonsborough on the 20th, a journey of 
 one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had only 
 one meal. I found our fortress in a bad state; but we 
 immediately repaired our flanks, gates, posterns, and 
 formed double bastions, which we completed in ten 
 days. One of my fellow-prisoners, escaped after me, 
 brought advice, that on account of my flight, the Indians 
 had put off the expedition for three weeks. About Au 
 gust 1st, I set out with nineteen men, to surprise Point 
 Creek Town on Sciota. Within four miles we fell in 
 with thirty Indians going against Boonsborough. We 
 fought and the enemy gave way. We suffered no loss. 
 The enemy had one killed and two wounded. We 
 took three horses, and all their baggage. The Indians 
 having evacuated their town, and gone altogether a- 
 gainst Boonsborough, we returned, passed them on the 
 6th day, and on the 7th arrived safe at Boonsborough. 
 On the 8th, the Indian army, 444 in number, commanded 
 by Captain Dugnesue,and eleven other Frenchmen, and 
 their own chiefs, came and summoned the fort. I re 
 quested two days consideration, which they granted. 
 During this, we brought in, through the posterns, all the 
 horses and other cattle we could collect. Oa the 9th, in 
 the evening, I informed their commander, that we were 
 determined to defend the fort while a man was living. 
 They then proposed a treaty, and said, if we sent out 
 nine men to conclude it, they would withdraw. Tin- 
 treaty was held within sixty yards of the fort, as we 
 suspected the savages. The articles were agreed to 
 and signed; when the Indians told us, it was their cus 
 tom for two Indians to shake hands with everv white 
 
BANIEL BOON&. 49 
 
 man, as an evidence of friendship. We agreed to this 
 also. They immediately grappled us to take us prison 
 ers; but we cleared ourselves of them, though surround- 
 ecM5y hundreds, and gained the fort safely, except one 
 that was wounded by a heavy fire from their army. On 
 this they began to undermine the fort, beginning at the 
 water-mark of Kentucky River, which is sixty yards 
 from the fort. We discovered this by the water being 
 made muddy with the clay, and countermined them by 
 cutting a trench across their subterraneous passage. 
 The enemy, discovering this, by the clay we threw out 
 of the fort, desisted. On the 20th of August they raised 
 the siege. During this dreadful siege we had two rren 
 killed and four wounded. We* lost a number of cattle. 
 We killed 37 of the enemy and wounded a great num 
 ber. We picked up 125 pounds of their bullets, besides 
 what stuck in the logs of the fort. Soon after this I 
 went into the settlement, and nothing worthy of notice 
 passed for some time. Jn July, 1779, during my ab 
 sence, Colonel Bowman, with 160 men, went against 
 the Shawanese at Old Chilicothe. He arrived undis 
 covered; a battle ensued, which lasted till 10 in the 
 morning, when Colonel Bowman retreated 30 miles. 
 The Indians collected all their strength and pursued 
 him, when another engagement ensued for two hours, not 
 to Colonel Bowman s advantage. Colonel Harrod pro 
 posed to mount a number of horses, and break the ene 
 my s line, who at this time fought with remarkable fury. 
 This desperate measure had a happy effect, and the 
 savages fled on all sides. In these two battles we had 
 nine men killed and one wounded. The enemy s loss 
 was uncertain, only two scalps being taken. June 22d, 
 1780, about 600 Indians and Canadians under Colonel 
 Bird, attacked Riddle s and Martin s stations, and the 
 forts of Licking River, with 6 pieces of artillery: they 
 took all the inhabitants captive, and killed one man 
 and two women, and loaded the others with the heavy 
 baggage, and such as failed in the journey were toma 
 hawked. The hostile disposition of the savages caused 
 General Clark, the commandant at the falls of Ohio, to 
 marck with his regiment and the armed force of the 
 
 G 
 
JO DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 country against Peccaway, the principal town of the 
 Shawanese, on a branch of the great Miami, which he 
 finished with great success, took 17 scalps and burned 
 the town to ashes, with the loss of 17 men. About this 
 time I returned to Kentucky with my family; for during 
 my captivity, my wife, thinking me killed by the Indians, 
 had transported my family and goods on horses, through 
 the wilderness, amidst many dangers, to her father s house 
 in North Carolina. The history of my difficulties in going 
 and returning, is too long to be inserted here. On the 
 6th of October, 1780, soon after my settling again at 
 Boonsborough, I went with my brother to the Blue 
 Licks; and on our return, he was shot by a party of In 
 dians; they followed me by the scent of a dog, which I 
 shot and escaped. The severity of the winter caused 
 great distress in Kentucky, the enemy during the sum 
 mer having destroyed most of the corn. The inhabi 
 tants lived chiefly on Buffaloes flesh. In the spring, 
 1782, the Indians harassed us. In May, they killed one 
 man at Ashton s station, and took a negro. Captain Ash- 
 ton pursued them with 25 men; and, in an engagement 
 which lasted two hours, he was obliged to retreat, hav 
 ing eight killed and four mortally wounded ; their brave 
 commander fell in the action. August 10, two boys were 
 carried off from Major Hoy s station. Captain Holder* 
 pursued with 17 men; they were also defeated, and lost 
 four and one wounded. Our affairs became more and 
 more alarming. The savages infested the country, kill 
 ing men at every opportunity. In a field, near Lexing 
 ton, an Indian shot a man, and running to scalp him, was 
 himself shot from the fort, and fell dead upon his enemy. 
 All the Indian nations were now united againt us. Au 
 gust 15,500 Indians and Canadians came against Bri- 
 ant s station, live miles from Lexington; they assaulted 
 the fort, killed all the cattle round it; but being repulsed, 
 they retired the third day, having about 30 killed, their 
 wounded uncertain. The garrison had four killed and 
 three wounded. August 18, Colonel Todd, Colonel 
 Trigg, Major Harland,and myself, speedily collected 176 
 men, well armed, and pursued the savages. They had 
 marched beyond the Blue Licks, to a remarkable bend 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 51 
 
 of the main fork of Licking River, about forty-three 
 miles from Lexington, where we overtook them on the 
 19th. The savages observing us, gave way ; and we, 
 ignorant of their numbers, passed the river. When they 
 saw our proceedings, having greatly the advantage in 
 situation, they formed their line of battle from one bend 
 of the Licking to the other, about a mile from the Blue 
 Licks. f The battle was exceedingly fierce for about fif 
 teen minutes, when we, being overpowered by numbers, 
 were obliged to retreat, with the loss of sixty-seven 
 men, seven of whom were taken prisoners. The 
 brave and much lamented Colonels Todd and Trigg, 
 Major Harland, and my second son, were among 
 the dead. We were afterwards told, that the Indi 
 ans, on numbering their dead, finding that they had 
 four more killed than we, four of our people that they 
 had taken were given up to their young warriors, to be 
 put to death after their barbarous manner. On our re 
 treat we were met by Colonel Logan, who was hasten 
 ing to join us with a number of well armed men: this 
 powerful assistance we wanted on the day of battle. 
 The enemy said, one more fire from us would have made 
 them give way. I cannot reflect upon this dreadful 
 scene but sorrow fills my heart: a zeal for the defence 
 of their country led these heroes to the scene of action, 
 though with a few men, to attack a powerful army of 
 experienced warriors. When we gave way, they pur 
 sued us with the utmost eagerness, and in every quarter 
 spread destruction. The river was difficult to cross, 
 and many were killed in the flight; some just entered 
 the river, some in the water, others after crossing, in 
 ascending the cliffs. Some escaped on horseback, a few 
 on foot; and being dispersed every where, a few hours 
 brought the melancholy news of the unfortunate battle 
 to Lexington. Many widows were now made. The 
 reader may guess what sorrow filled the hearts of the 
 inhabitants, exceeding any thing 1 am able to describe. 
 Being reinforced, we returned ,to bury the dead, and 
 found their bodies strewed every where, cut and mang 
 led in a dreadful manner. This mournful scene exhib 
 ited a horror almost unparalleled: some torn and eaten 
 
52 DANIEL UOONE. 
 
 by wild beasts; those in the river eaten by fish; all m 
 such a putrified condition that no one could be distin 
 guished from another. When General Clark, at the 
 falls of Ohio, heard of our disaster, he ordered an ex 
 pedition to pursue the savages. We overtook them 
 within two miles of their towns, and we should have 
 obtained a great victory had not some of them met us 
 when about 200 poles from their camp. The savages 
 fled in the utmost disorder, and evacuated all their 
 towns. We burned to ashes Old Chilicothe, Peccaway, 
 New-Chilicothe, Wills-Town, and Chilicothe; entirely 
 destroyed their corn and other fruits, and spread desola 
 tion through their country. We. took seven prisoners 
 and live scalps, and lost only four men, two of whom 
 were accidentally killed by ourselves. 
 
 This campaign damped the enemy, yet they made 
 secret incursions. In October, a party attacked Crab 
 Orchard ; and one of them, being a good way before the 
 others, boldly entered a house, in which were only a 
 woman and her children, and a negro man. The sav 
 age used no violence, but attempted to carry off the 
 negro, who happily proved too strong for him and threw 
 him on the ground, and in the struggle the woman cut off 
 his head with an axe, whilst her little daughter shut the 
 door. The savages instantly came up, and applied 
 their tomahawks to the door, when the mother putting 
 an old rusty gun-barrel through the crevice, the savages 
 went off. From that time until the happy return of 
 peace between the United States and Great Britain, the 
 Indians did us no mischief. Soon after the Indians de 
 sired peace. Two darling sons and a brother I have 
 lost by savage hands, which have also taken forty valu 
 able horses, and an abundance of cattle. Many dark 
 and sleepless nights have I spent, separated from the 
 cheerful society of men, scorched by summer s sun, and 
 pinched by the winter s cold, an instrument ordained to 
 settle the wilderness. But now the scene is changed: 
 peace crowns the Sylvan shade. 
 
 DANIEL BOONE, 
 Fayctte county, Kentucky." 
 
JOHN CADWALADER. 53 
 
 JOHN CADWALADER, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 THIS zealous and inflexible friend of America was 
 born in Philadelphia, 1742. He was distinguished for 
 his intrepidity as a soldier, in upholding the cause of 
 freedom during the most discouraging periods of danger 
 and misfortune, that America ever beheld. 
 
 At the dawn of the revolution, he commanded a corps 
 of volunteers, designated as "Me silk stocking company " 
 of which nearly all the members were appointed to com 
 missions in the line of the army. He afterward was 
 appointed colonel of one of the city battalions, and be 
 ing thence promoted to the rank of Brigadier-General, 
 was intrusted with the command of the Pennsylvania 
 troops, in the important operations of the winter cam 
 paign of 1776 and 1777. He acted with this command, 
 as a volunteer, in the actions of Princeton, Brandy wine, 
 Germantown, and Monmouth. and on other occasions, 
 and received the thanks of General Washington, whose 
 confidence and regard he uniformly enjoyed. 
 
 The merits and services of General Cadwalader, in 
 duced congress, early in 1778, to compliment him by a 
 unanimous vote, with the appointment of general of cav 
 alry; which appointment he declined under an impres 
 sion that he could be more useful to his country, in the 
 sphere in which he had been acting. 
 
 He was strongly and ardently attached to General 
 Washington, and his celebrated duel with General Con- 
 way, arose from his spirited opposition to the intrigues of 
 that officer, to undermine the standing of the command- 
 er-in-chief. The following anecdote of the rencounter, 
 is related in the " Anecdotes of the Revolutionary 
 War:" 
 
 " The particulars of this duel, originating in the hon 
 ourable feelings of General Cadwalader, indignant at 
 the attempt of his adversary to injure the reputation of 
 the comrnander-in-chief, by representing him as unquali 
 fied for the exalted station which he held, appears wor 
 thy of record. Nor ought the coolness observed on the 
 occasion by the parties, to be forgotten, as it evinces 
 
54 JOHN CADWALADER. 
 
 very strongly, that although imperious circumstances 
 may compel men of nice feeling to meet, that the dic 
 tates of honour may be satisfied, without the smallest 
 deviation from the most rigid rules of politeness. When 
 arrived at the appointed rendezvous, General Cadwala- 
 der, accompanied by General Dickenson of Pennsylva 
 nia, General Conway by Colonel Morgan, of Princeton, 
 it was agreed upon by the seconds, that, on the word 
 being given, the principals might fire in their own time, 
 and at discretion, either by an off-hand shot, or by ta 
 king a deliberate aim. The parties having declared 
 themselves ready, the word was given to proceed. Gen 
 eral Conway immediately raised his pistol, and fired 
 with great composure, but without effect. General 
 Cadwalader was about to do so, when a sudden gust of 
 wind occurring, he kept his pistol down and remained 
 tranquil. " Why do you not fire, General Cadwalader?" 
 exclaimed Conway. " Because," replied General Cad 
 walader, "we came not here to trifle. Let the gale pass, 
 and I shall act my part." "You shall have a fair 
 chance of performing it well," rejoined Conway, and 
 immediately presented a full front. General Cadwala 
 der fired, and his ball entering the mouth of his antago 
 nist, he fell directly forward on his face. Colonel 
 Morgan running to his assistance, found the blood spout 
 ing from behind his neck, and lifting up the club of his 
 hair, saw the ball drop from it. It had passed through 
 his head greatly to the derangement of his tongue and 
 teeth, but did not inflict a mortal wound. As soon as 
 the blood was sufficiently washed away to allow him to 
 speak, General Conway, turning to his opponent, said, 
 good humouredly, "You lire, General, with much delib 
 eration, and certainly with a great deal of effect." The 
 parties then parted, free from all resentment. 
 
 This patriotic and exemplary man died February 
 10th, 1 786. In his private life he exemplified all the 
 virtues that ennoble the character of man. His conduct 
 was not marked with the least degree of malevolence, 
 or party spirit. Those who honestly differed from him 
 in opinion, he always treated with singular tenderness. 
 In sociability, and cheerfulness of temper, honesty, and 
 
JAMES CLINTON 55 
 
 goodness of heart, independence of spirit, and warmth 
 of his friendship, he had no superior. Never did any 
 man die more lamented by his friends and neighbours; 
 to his family and relations, his death was a stroke still 
 more severe. 
 
 JAMES CLINTON, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL CLINTON was the fourth son of Col. Charles 
 Clinton, and was born in Ulster county, N. Y. Aug. 19th, 
 1736. In common with his brothers, he received an 
 excellent education. 
 
 In the critical and eventful affairs of nations, when 
 their rights and their interests are invaded, Providence, 
 in the plenitude of its beneficence, has generally pro 
 vided men qualified to raise the standard of resistance, 
 and has infused a redeeming spirit into the community, 
 which enabled it to rise superior to the calamities that 
 menaced its liberty and its prosperity. History does 
 not record a more brilliant illustration of this truth than 
 the American revolution. In defiance of the most ap 
 palling considerations, constellations of the most illus 
 trious men, pierced the dark and gloomy clouds which 
 enveloped this oppressed people, and shone forth in the 
 councils and the armies of the nation. Their wisdom 
 drew forth the resources, and their energy vindicated 
 the rights of America. They took their lives in their 
 hands, and liberty or death was inscribed on their 
 hearts. Amidst this gallant band, Gen. Clinton stood de 
 servedly conspicuous. To an iron constitution and an 
 invincible courage, he added great collness in action and 
 perseverance in effort. The predominant inclination of 
 his mind was to a military life, and by a close attention 
 to the studies connected with it, he prepared himself- to 
 perform those duties which afterward devolved upon 
 him, and thereby established his character as an intrepr 
 id and skilful officer. 
 
 In the war of 1756, usually denominated the French 
 war, Clinton first encountered the fatigues and dangers 
 of a military life. He was a captain under Colonel 
 
56 JAMES CLINTON. 
 
 Bradstreet, at the capture of Fort Frontenac, arid ren 
 dered essential service in that expedition by the capture 
 of a sloop of war on Lake Ontario. 
 
 " His company was placed in rowgalleys, and favored 
 by a calm, compelled the French vessel to strike after 
 an obstinate resistance. His designation as captain 
 commandant of the four companies, raised for the pro 
 tection of the western frontiers of the counties of Or 
 ange and Ulster, was a post of great responsibility and 
 hazard, and demonstrated the confidence of the gov 
 ernment. The safety of a line of settlements, extend 
 ing at least fifty miles, was intrusted to his vigilance and 
 intrepidity. The ascendency of the French c,ver the 
 ruthless savages, was always predominant, and the in 
 habitants of the frontiers was compelled to hold the 
 plough with one hand, for his sustenance, and to grasp 
 his gun with the other for his defence; and he was con 
 tinually in danger of being awakened, in the hour of 
 darkness, by the war-whoop of the savages, to witness 
 the conflagration of his dwelling and the murder of his 
 family. 
 
 After the termination of the French war, Mr. Clinton 
 married Mary De Witt, and he retired from the camp to 
 enjoy the repose of domestic life. 
 
 When the American revolution was on the eve of its 
 commencement, he was appointed, on the 30th June, 
 1775, by the continental congress, colonel of the 3d re 
 giment of New-York forces. On the 25th of October 
 following, he was appointed by the provincial congress 
 of New York, colonel of the regiment of foot in Ulster 
 county; on the 8th of March, 1776, by the continental 
 congress, colonel of the second battalion of New-York 
 troops; and on the 9th of August, 1776, a Brigadier- 
 General in the army of the United States; in which 
 station he continued during the greater part of the war, 
 having the command of the New- York line, or the troops 
 of that state; and at its close he was constituted a Ma 
 jor-General. 
 
 In 1775, his regiment composed part of the army 
 under General Montgomery, which invaded Canada; 
 and he participated in all the fatigues, dangers, and 
 
JAMES CLINTON. 57 
 
 privations, of that celebrated but unfortunate expedi 
 tion. 
 
 In October, 1777, he commanded at Fort Clinton, 
 which, together with its neighbour, Fort Motgornery, con 
 stituted the defence of the Hudson River, against the 
 ascent of an enemy. His brother, the governor, com 
 manded in chief at both forts. Sir Henry Clinton, with 
 a view to create a diversion in favour of General Bur- 
 goyne, moved up the Hudson with an army of 40UO 
 men, and attacked those works, which were very im 
 perfectly fortified, and only defended by 500 men, com 
 posed principally of militia. After a most gallant 
 resistance, the forts were carried by storm. General 
 Clinton was the last man who left the works, and not 
 until he was severely wounded by the thrust of a bay 
 onet; pursued and fired at by the enemy, and his at 
 tending servant killed. He bled profusely, and when 
 he dismounted from his war-horse, in order to effect his 
 escape from the enemy, who were close on him, it oc 
 curred to him that he must either perish on the moun 
 tains or be captured, unless he could supply himself with 
 another horse; an animal which sometimes roamed at 
 large in that wild region. In this emergency he took 
 the bridle from his horse, and slid down a precipice of 
 one hundred feet to the ravine of the creek which sepa 
 rated the forts, and feeling cautiously his way along its 
 precipitous banks, he reached the mountain at a dis 
 tance from the enemy, after having fallen into the 
 stream, the cold water of which arrested a copious eifu- 
 sion of blood. The return of light furnished him with 
 the sight of a horse, which conveyed him to his house, 
 about sixteen miles from the fort, where he arrived 
 about noon, covered with blood and labouring under a 
 severe fever. In his helpless condition the British 
 passed up the Hudson, within a few miles of his house, 
 and destroyed the town of Kingston. 
 
 The cruel ravages and horrible irruptions of the Iro- 
 quois, or six nations of Indians, on our frontier settle 
 ments, rendered it necessary to inflict a terrible chas 
 tisement, which would prevent a repetition to their 
 atrocities. An expedition was accordingly planned. 
 
 H 
 
J# JAMES CL1M<X\. 
 
 and their principal command was committed to General 
 Sullivan, who was to proceed up the Susquehannah, 
 with the main body of the army, while General Clinton 
 was to join him by the way of the Mohawk. 
 
 The Iroquois inhabited, or occasionally occupied, 
 that immense and fertile region which composes the 
 western parts of New-York and Pennsylvania, and be 
 sides their own ravages, from the vicinity of their set 
 tlements to the inhabited parts of the United States, 
 they facilitated the inroads of the more remote Indians. 
 When General Sullivan was on his way to the Indian 
 country, he was joined by General Clinton with upwards 
 of sixteen hundrd men. The latter had gone up the 
 Mohawk in batteaux, from Schenectady, and after as 
 cending that river about forty-four miles, he conveyed 
 his batteaux from Canajoharie to the head of Otsego 
 Lake, one of the sources of the Susquehannah. Find 
 ing the stream of water, in that river, too low to float his 
 boats, he erected a dam across the mouth of the lake, 
 which soon rose to the altitude of the dam. Having got 
 his batteaux ready, he opened a passage through the 
 dam for the water to flow. This raised the river so 
 high, that he was enabled to embark all his troops; to 
 float them down to Tioga, and to join General Sullivan 
 in good season. The Indians collected their strength at 
 Newton; took possession of proper ground, and fortifi 
 ed it with judgment, and on the 29th August, 1779, an 
 attack was made on them ; their works were forced, and 
 their consternation was so great, that they abandoned 
 all further resistance; for, as the Americans advanced 
 into their settlements, they retreated before them with 
 out throwing any obstructions in their way. The army 
 passed between the Cayuga and Seneca lakes, by Ge 
 neva and Canandaigua,and as far west as the Genesee 
 River, destroying large settlements and villages, and 
 fields of corn; orchards of fruit-trees, and gardens 
 abounding with esculent vegetables. The progress of 
 the Indians in agriculture, struck the Americans with 
 astonishment. Many of their ears of corn measured 
 22 inches in length. They had horses, cows, and hogs, 
 in abundance. They manufactured salt and sugar, and 
 
JAMES CLINTON. 39 
 
 raised the best of apples and peaches, and their dwell 
 ings were large and commodious. The desolation of 
 their settlements, the destruction of their provisions, and 
 the conflagration of their houses, drove them to the 
 British fortresses of Niagara for subsistence, where, 
 living on salt provisions, to which they were unaccus 
 tomed, they died in great numbers, and the effect of this 
 expedition, was to diminish their population: to damp 
 their ardour; to check their arrogance; to restrain their 
 cruelty, and to inflict an irrecoverable blow on their re 
 sources of extensive aggression. 
 
 For a considerable portion of the war, General Clin 
 ton was stationed at Albany, where he commanded, in 
 the northern department of the union, a place of high 
 responsibility and requiring uncommon vigilance and 
 continual exertion. An incident occurred, when on this 
 command, which strongly illustrates his character. A 
 regiment which had been ordered to march mutinied 
 under arms, and peremptorily refused obedience. The 
 general, on being apprised of this, immediately repaired 
 with his pistols to the ground: he went up to the head of 
 the regiment and ordered it to march: a silence ensued, 
 and the order was not complied with. He then pre 
 sented a pistol to the breast of a sergeant, who was the 
 ringleader, and commanded him to proceed on pain of 
 death ; and so on in succession along the Ijne, and his 
 command was, in every instance, obeyed, and the regi 
 ment restored to entire and complete subordination and 
 submission. 
 
 General Clinton was at the siege of Yorktown and 
 the capture of Cornwallis, where he distinguished him 
 self by his usual intrepidity. 
 
 His last appearance in arms, was on the evacuation 
 of the city of New-York, by the British. He then bid 
 the commander-in-chief a final and affectionate adieu, 
 and retired to his ample estates, where he enjoyed that 
 repose which was required by a long period of fatigue 
 and privation. 
 
 He was, however, frequently called from his retire 
 ment by the unsolicited voice of his fellow-citizens, to 
 perform civic duties. He was appointed a commissioner 
 
6O JAMES CLINTON. 
 
 to adjust the boundary line between Pennsylvania and 
 New-York, which important measure was amicably and 
 successfully accomplished. He was also selected by 
 the legislature for an interesting mission to settle con 
 troversies about lands in the west, which also termina 
 ted favourably. He represented his native country in 
 the assembly and in the convention that adopted the 
 present constitution of the United States, and he was 
 elected, without opposition, a senator from t}ie Middle 
 District; all which trusts he executed with perfect in 
 tegrity, with solid intelligence, and with the full appro 
 bation of his constituents. 
 
 The temper of General Clinton was mild and affec 
 tionate, but when raised by unprovoked or unmerited 
 injury, he exhibited extraordinary and appalling energy. 
 In battle he was as cool and as collected as if sitting 
 by his fireside. Nature intended him for a gallant and 
 efficient soldier, when she endowed him with the faculty 
 of entire self-possession in the midst of the greatest 
 dangers. 
 
 He died on the 22d of December, 1812, and was in 
 terred in the family burial-place in Orange county, and 
 his monumental stone bears the following inscription: 
 
 " Underneath are interred the remains of James Clin 
 ton Esquire. 
 
 44 Fie was born Oth of August, 1736; and died the 22d 
 of December, 1812. 
 
 " His life was principally devoted to the military ser 
 vice of his country, and he had filled with fidelity and 
 honour, several distinguished civil offices. 
 
 " He was an officer in the revolutionary war, and the 
 war preceding; and, at the close of the former, was a 
 major-general in the army of the United States. He 
 was a good man and a sincere patriot, performing, in the 
 most exemplary manner* all the duties of life: and ha 
 died, as he lived, without fear, and without reproach." 
 
 [Biog raphical Dictionary!] 
 
,.,.,{,.;. 
 
 
GEORGE CLINTON. 61 
 
 GEORGE CLINTON, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 AMONG the many distinguished patriots of the Revo 
 lution, who have become tenants of the tomb, the ser 
 vices of none will be more readily acknowledged, than 
 those of the late venerable George Clinton. He is 
 descended from a respectable and worthy family, and 
 was born on the 26th July, 1739, in the county of Ulster, 
 in the Colony of New-York. His father Colonel Charles 
 Clinton, was an emigrant from Ireland. 
 
 In early youth he was put to the study of law, but 
 long before he became a man, he rallied under the 
 standard of his country, and assisted Amherst in the 
 reduction of Montreal. In this campaign he nobly dis 
 tinguished himself in a conflict on the nothern waters, 
 when, with four gun-boats, after a severe engagement, 
 he captured a French brig of eighteen guns. 
 
 This war being ended, he returned again to his fa 
 vourite pursuit, the science of the law, and placed him 
 self under the tuition of Chief Justice Smith, where he 
 became a student with Gov ernor Morris, between whom 
 and himself, a difference of political opinion, in after 
 life wrought a separation. 
 
 He had scarcely commenced as a practitioner, when, in 
 1765, the storm appeared to gather round his native 
 land, and the tyrannic disposition of the mother country 
 was manifested. Foreseeing the evil at hand, with a 
 mind glowing with patriotism, correct and quick in its 
 perceptions; and like time, steady and fixed to the 
 achievement of its objects, he abandoned the advanta 
 ges of the profession to which he had been educated, 
 and became a member of the colonial legislature ; where 
 he ever displayed a love of liberty, an inflexible attach 
 ment to the rights of his country, and that undaunted 
 firmness and integrity, without which this nation never 
 would have been free; and which has ever formed the 
 most brilliant, though by no means the most useful trait 
 of his character. He was chief of the Whig party. 
 
 In this situation he remained, contending against the 
 doctrine of British supremacy; and with great strength 
 
6 2 GEORGE CLINTON. 
 
 of argument, and force of popularity, supporting the 
 rights of America, till the crisis arrived when, in 1775, 
 he was returned a member of that patriotic congress, 
 who laid the foundation of our independence. While 
 in this venerable body, it may be -said of him with truth, 
 that, "he strengthened the feeble knees, and the hands 
 that hang down." On the 4th of July, 1776, he was 
 present at the glorious declaration of independence, 
 and assented with his usual energy and decision, to that 
 measure, but having been appointed a brigadier-general 
 in the militia, and also in the continental army, the exi 
 gencies of his country at that trying hour, rendered it 
 necessary for him to take the field in person, and he 
 therefore retired from congress immediately after his 
 vote was given, and before the instrument was transcri 
 bed for the signnature of the members ; for which rea 
 son his name does not appear among the signers. 
 
 A constitution having been adopted for the state of 
 N. Y. in April, 1777, he was chosen at the first election 
 under it, both governor and lieutenant-governor, and was 
 continued in the former office for eighteen years. In 
 this year he was also appointed by Congress to command 
 the posts of the Highlands, a most important and ardu 
 ous duty. The design of the enemy was to separate 
 New-England from the rest of the nation, and by pre 
 venting succour from the east, to lay waste the middle 
 and southern country. Had this plan been carried into 
 effect, American liberty would probably have expired 
 in its cradle. It was then that his vast and comprehen 
 sive genius viewed in its true light the magnitude of the 
 evil contemplated ; and he roused to a degree of energy 
 unknown and unexpected. It was then that Burgoyne 
 was, with the best appointed army ever seen in Ameri 
 ca, attempting to force his way to Albany, and Howe 
 attempting to effect a junction with him at that impor 
 tant place. 
 
 The crisis was all important, and Clinton did not hes 
 itate he determined at all hazards to save his country. 
 With this view, when Howe attempted to ascend the 
 river, Clinton from every height and angle assailed him. 
 His gallant defence of Fort Montgomery, with a handful 
 
GEORGE CLINTON. 63 
 
 of men, against a powerful force commanded by Sir 
 Henry Clinton, was equally honourable to his intrepid 
 ity and his skill. The following are the particulars of 
 his gallant conduct at the storming of forts Montgomery 
 and Clinton, in October, 1777. 
 
 " When the British reinforcements, under GeneraJ 
 Robertson, amounting to nearly 2000 men, arrived frtfm 
 Europe, Sir Henry Clinton used the greatest exertion, 
 and availed himself of every favourable circumstance, 
 to put these troops into immediate operation. Many 
 were sent to suitable vessels, and united in the expedi 
 tion, which consisted of about 400 men, against the forts 
 in the Highlands. Having made the necessary arrange 
 ments, he moved up the North River, and landed on the 
 4th of October at Tarry-town, purposely to impress 
 General Putnam, under whose command a thousand 
 continental troops had been left, with a belief, that his 
 post at Peek s-kill was the object of attack. At eight 
 o clock at night, the general communicated the intelli 
 gence to Governor Clinton, of the arrival of the British, 
 and at the same time expressed his opinion respecting 
 their -.destination. The designs of Sir Henry were im 
 mediately perceived by the governor, who prorogued 
 the assembly on the following day, and arrived that 
 night at Fort Montgomery. The British troops, in the 
 mean time, were secretly conveyed across the river, and 
 assaults upon our forts were meditated to be made on 
 the 6th, which were accordingly put in execution, by 
 attacking the American advanced party at Doodletown, 
 about two miles and a half from Fort Montgomery. The 
 Americans received the fire of the British, and retreated 
 to Fort Clinton. The enemy then advanced to the west 
 side of the mountain, in order to attack our troops in 
 the rear. Governor Clinton immediately ordered out a 
 detachment of one hundred men towards Doodletown, 
 and another of sixty, with a brass field-piece, to an eli 
 gible spot on another road. They were both soon at 
 tacked by the whole force of the enemy, and compelled 
 to fall back. It has been remarked, that the talents, as 
 well as the temper of a commander, are put to as severe 
 a test in conducting a retreat, as in achieving a victory. 
 
64 GEORGE CL1NTOM. 
 
 The truth of this Governor Clinton experienced, when T 
 with great bravery, and the most perfect order, he reti 
 red till he reached the fort. He lost no time in placing 
 his men in the best manner that circumstances would 
 permit. His post, however, as well as Fort Clinton, in 
 a few minutes, were invaded on every side. In the 
 midst of this disheartening and appalling disaster, he 
 was summoned, when the sun was only an hour high, to 
 surrender in five minutes; but his gallant spirit sternly 
 refused to obey the call. In a short time after, the Brit 
 ish made a general and most desperate attack on both 
 posts, which was received by the Americans with un 
 dismayed courage and resistance. Officers and men, 
 militia and continentals, all behaved alike brave. An 
 incessant fire was kept up till dusk, when our troops 
 were overpowered by numbers*, who forced the lines and 
 redoubts at both posts. Many of the Americans fought 
 their way out, others accidentally mixed with the enemy, 
 and thus made their escape effectually; for, besides be 
 ing favoured by the night, they knew the various ave 
 nues in the mountains. The governor, as well as his 
 brother, General James Clinton, who was wounded, 
 were not taken."* 
 
 Howe, driven to madness by the manly resistance of 
 his foes, inconsiderately landed and marched into the 
 country, and immortalized his name by burning Kingston 
 and other villages. Put the great object of the expedi 
 tion, the forming a junction with Burgoyne, was happily 
 defeated, by the capture of that general, and America 
 was free. 
 
 From this moment, for eighteen years in succession, 
 he remained the governor of New-York, re-elected to 
 that important station by a generous and wise people, 
 who knew how to appreciate his wisdom and virtue, 
 and their own blessings. During this period, he was 
 president of the convention of that state, which ratified 
 the national constitution: when, as in all other situa 
 tions, he undeviatingly manifested an ardent attachment 
 to civil liberty. 
 
 *Am. Biographical Dictionary*- 
 
THOMAS CON WAY. "65 
 
 After the life of labour and usefulness, here faintly 
 portrayed ; worn with the fatigues of duty, and with 
 a disease which then afflicted him, but which had 
 been removed for the last eight years of his life ; having 
 led his native state to eminent, if not unrivalled impor 
 tance and prosperity, he retired from public life, with a 
 mind resolved not to mingle again with governmental 
 concerns, and to taste those sweets which result from 
 reflecting on a life well spent. 
 
 In 1805 he was chosen Vice-President of the United 
 States, by the same number of votes that elevated Mr. 
 Jefferson to the presidency; in which statiou.he dischar 
 ged his duties with unremitted attention; presiding with 
 great dignity in the Senate, and evincing, by his votes 
 and his opinions, his decided hostility to constructive 
 authority, and to innovations on the established princi 
 ples of republican government. 
 
 He died at Washington, when attending to his duties 
 -as Vice-President, and was interred in that city, where 
 a monument was erected by the filial piety of his chil 
 dren, with this inscription, written by his nephew: 
 
 4 *To the memory of George Clinton. He was born 
 in the state of New-York, on the 26th July, 1739, and 
 died in the city of Washington, on the 20th April, 1812, 
 in the 73d year of his age." 
 
 " He was a soldier and a statesman of the revolution. 
 Eminent in council, and distinguished in war, he filled, 
 with unexampled usefulness, purity, and ability, among 
 many other offices, those of Governor of his native state, 
 and of Vice-President of the U. States. While he lived, 
 his virtue, wisdom, and valour were the pride, the orna 
 ment, and security of his country, and when he died, he 
 left an illustrious example of a well spent-life, worthy of 
 all imitation." 
 
 THOMAS CONWAY, 
 
 Major- General in the American Army. 
 
 " THIS gentleman was born in Ireland, and went with 
 his parents to France, at the age of six years, and was 
 from his youth educated to the profession of arms. He 
 
66 THOMAS CONWAt. 
 
 had obtained considerable reputation as a military offi 
 cer, and as a man of sound understanding and judgment. 
 He arrived from France with ample recommendations, 
 and Congress appointed him a brigadier-general in May, 
 1777. He soon became by conspicuously inimical to Gen 
 eral Washington, and sought occasions to traduce his 
 character. In this he found support from a faction in 
 Congress, who were desirous that the commander-in- 
 chief should be superseded. The congress not long after 
 elected General Conway to the office of Inspector-Gen 
 eral to our army, with the rank of Major-Gen eral, though 
 he had insulted the commander-in-chief, and justified 
 himself in doing so. This gave umbrage to the briga 
 diers over whom he was promoted, and they remonstra 
 ted to congress against the proceeding, as implicating 
 their honour and character. Conway, now smarting 
 under the imputation of having instigated a hostile fac 
 tion against the illustrious Washington, and being ex 
 tremely unpopular among the officers in general, and 
 finding his situation did not accord with his feelings 
 and views, resigned his commission, without having 
 commenced the duties of inspector. He was believed 
 to be an unprincipled intriguer, and after his resignation, 
 his calumny and detraction of the commander-in-chief, 
 and the army generally, was exercised with unrestrain 
 ed virulence and outrage. 
 
 No man was more zealously engaged in the scheme 
 of elevating General Gates to the station of command 
 er-in-chief. His vile in sin nations and direct assertions 
 in the public newspapers, and in private conversation, 
 relative to the incapacity of Washington to conduct the 
 operations of the army, received countenance from 
 several members of Congress, who were induced to 
 declare their want of confidence in him, and the affair 
 assumed an aspect threatening the most disastrous con 
 sequences. Conway maintained a correspondence witli 
 General Gates on the subject, and in one of his letters, 
 he thus expresses himself: "Heaven has been deter 
 mined to save your country, or a weak general and bad 
 counsellors would have ruined it " He was himself at 
 that time one of the counsellors, against whom he so 
 
WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 67 
 
 basely inveighs. Envy and malice ever are attendant 
 on exalted genius and merit. But the delusion was of 
 short continuance, the name of Washington proved un 
 assailable, and the base intrigue of Conway recoiled 
 with bitterness on his own head."* 
 
 General Cadwalader, of Pennsylvania, indignant at 
 the attempt to vilify the character of Washington, re 
 solved to avenge himself on the aggressor in personal 
 combat. The particulars of this meeting are given in 
 the biography of General Cadwalader. General Con- 
 way, conceiving his wound to be mortal, and believing 
 death to be near, acted honourably, in addressing to 
 General Washington, whom he had perfidiously slander 
 ed, the following letter of apology 
 
 " Philadelphia, Feb. 23, 1778. 
 
 Sir, I find myself just able to hold my pen during a 
 few minutes, and take this opportunity of expressing 
 my sincere grief for having done, written, or said any 
 thing disagreeable to your Excellency. My career will 
 soon be over, therefore justice and truth prompt me to 
 declare my last sentiments. You are, in my eyes, the 
 great and good man. May you long enjoy the love, es 
 teem, and veneration of these states, whose liberties 
 you have asserted by your virtues. 
 
 I am, with the greatest respect, 
 
 Your Excellency s Most obedient and humble Servant, 
 
 THS. CONWAY." 
 
 WILLIAM DAVIDSON, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 WILLIAM DAVIDSON, Lieutenant Colonel commandant 
 in the North Carolina line, and Brigadier-General in the 
 militia of that state, was the youngest son of George 
 Davidson, who removed with his family, from Lancaster 
 county, in Pennsylvania, in the year 1750, to Rowan 
 county, in North Carolina. 
 
 William was born in the year 1746, and was educa 
 ted in a plain country manner, at an academy in Char- 
 
 -Thacher s Military Journal. 
 
68 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 
 
 lotte, the county town of Mecklenburgh, which adjoins 
 Rowan. 
 
 Like most of the enterprising youth of America. Da 
 vidson repaired to the standard of his country, on the 
 commencement of the revolutionary war, and was ap 
 pointed a major in one of the first regiments formed by 
 the government of North Carolina. 
 
 In this character, lie marched with the North Caroli 
 na line, under Brigadier-General Nash, to the main ar 
 my in New-Jersey, where he served under the command- 
 er-in-cbief, until the North Carolina line was detached in 
 November, 1779, to reinforce the southern army, com 
 manded by Major-General Lincoln. Previous to this e- 
 vent, Major Davidson was promoted to the command of a 
 regiment, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel comman 
 dant. 
 
 As he passed through North-Carolina, Davidson ob 
 tained permission to visit his family, from which he had 
 been absent nearly three years. The delay produced 
 by this visit saved him from captivity, as he found 
 Charleston so closely invested when he arrived in its 
 neighbourhood, as to prevent his injunction with his 
 regiment. 
 
 Soon after the surrender of Genera! Lincoln and his 
 army, the loyalists of North Carolina, not doubting the 
 complete success of the royal forces, began to embody 
 themselves for the purpose of contributing their active 
 aid in the field to the subsequent operations of the Brit 
 ish general. They were numerous in the western parts 
 of the state, and especially in the highland settlement, 
 about Cross Creek. Lieutenant Colonel Davidson put 
 himself at the head of some of our militia, called out to 
 quell the expected insurrection. He proceeded with 
 vigour in the execution of his trust; and in an engage 
 ment with a party of loyalists near Calson s mill, he was 
 severely wounded ; the ball entered the umbilical re 
 gion, and passed through his body near the kidneys. 
 This confined him for eight weeks; when recovering, he 
 instantly took the field, having been recently appointed 
 Brigadier-General by the government of North Carolina, 
 in the place of Brigadier-General Rutherford, taken at. 
 
WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 69 
 
 the battle of ramden. He exerted himself, in con 
 junction with General Sumner and Colonel Davie, to 
 interrupt the progress of Lord Cornwallis in his advance 
 towards Salisbury, and throughout that eventful period, 
 gave unceasing evidences of his zeal and firmness in 
 upholding his falling country. 
 
 After the victory obtained by Morgan at the Cowpens, 
 Davidson was among the most active of his countrymen 
 i a assembling the militia of his district, to enable General 
 Green, who had joined the light corps under Morgan, to 
 stop the progress of the advancing enemy, and was de 
 tached by General Greene, on the night of the last day 
 of January, to guard the very ford selected by Lord 
 Cornwallis for his passage of the Catawba River on 
 the next morning. Davidson possessed himself of the 
 post in the night, at the head of three hundred men ; 
 and having placed a picquet near the shore, stationed his 
 corps at some sninll distance from the ford. 
 
 General Henry Lee, from whose memoirs of the war 
 in the Southern department of the United States, we 
 copy the present Sketch of General Davidson, gives the 
 following account of the battle: 
 
 " A disposition was immediately made to dislodge Da 
 vidson, which the British General O Hara, with the- 
 guards, effected. Lieutenant Colonel Hall, led with the 
 light company, followed by the grenadiers. The current 
 was rapid, the stream waist deep, and five hundred yards 
 in width. The soldiers crossed in platoons, supporting 
 each others steps. When Lieutenant Colonel Hall 
 reached the river, lie was descried by the American sen 
 tinels, whose challenge and fire brought Davidson s corps 
 into array. Deserted by his guide, Hall passed directly 
 across, not knowing the landing place, which lay below 
 him. This deviation from the common course, rendered 
 it necessary for Davidson to incline to the right; but 
 this manoeuvre, although promptly performed, was not 
 effected until the light infantry had gained the shore. A 
 fierce conflict ensued, which was well supported by 
 Davidson and his inferior force. The militia at length 
 yielded, and Davidson, while mounting his horse to di 
 rect the retreat, was killed. The corps dispersed and 
 
70 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 
 
 sought safety in the woods. Our loss was small except 
 ing General Davidson, an active, zealous, and influen 
 tial officer. The British Lieutenant-Colonel Hall was 
 also killed, with three of the light infantry, and thirty-, 
 six were wounded. Lord Cornwallis s horse was shot 
 under him, and fell as soon as he got upon the shore. 
 Leslee s horses were carried down the stream, and with 
 difficulty saved ; and O Hara s tumbled over with him 
 into the water." 
 
 The loss of Brigadier-General Davidson would have 
 been felt in any stage of the war. It was particularly 
 detrimental in its effect at this period, as he was the 
 chief instrument relied upon by General Greene for the 
 assemblage of the militia; an event all important at th*s 
 crisis, and anxiously desired by the American general. 
 The ball passed through his breast, and he instantly fell 
 dead. 
 
 This promising soldier was thus lost to his country in 
 the meridian of life, and at a moment when his services 
 would have been highly beneficial to her. He was a 
 man of popular manners, pleasing address, active and 
 indefatigable. Enamoured with the profession of arms, 
 and devoted to the great cause for which he fought, 
 his future usefulness may be inferred from his former 
 conduct. 
 
 The congress of the United States, in gratitude for 
 his services, and in commemoration of their sense of his 
 worth, passed the following resolution, directing the 
 erection of a monument to his memory: 
 
 Resolved, That the governor and council of North 
 Carolina, be desired to erect a monument, at the expense 
 of the United States, not exceeding the value of five 
 hundred dollars, to the memory of the late Brigadier- 
 General Davidson, who commanded the militia of the 
 district of Salisbury, in the state of North Cari-lina, and 
 was killed on the first day of February last, fighting gal 
 lantly in the defence of the liberty and independence o 
 these states."* 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
WILLIAM RICHARDSON DA VIE. 71 
 
 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DA VIE, 
 
 Colonel Commandant in the State Cavalry of North Carolina. 
 
 COLONEL DAVIE was born in the village of Egremont, 
 in England, on the 20th June, 1759. His father visiting 
 South Carolina soon after the peace of 1763, brought 
 with him this son; and returning to England, confided 
 him to the Rev. William Richardson, his maternal un 
 cle; who becoming much attached to his nephew, not 
 only took charge of his education, but adopted him as 
 his son and heir. At the proper age, William was sent 
 to an academy in North Carolina; from whence he was, 
 after a few years, removed to the college of Nassau 
 Hall, in Princeton, New-Jersey, then becoming the re 
 sort of most of the southern youth under the auspices 
 *of the learned and respectable Dr. Witherspoon. Here 
 he finished his education, graduating in the autumn of 
 1776, a year memorable in our military as well as civil 
 annals. 
 
 Returning home, young Davie found himself shut out 
 for a time from the army, as the commissions for the 
 troops just levied had been issued. He went to Salis 
 bury, where he commenced the study of law. The war 
 continuing, contrary to the expectations which general 
 ly prevailed when it began, Davie could no longer resist 
 the wish to plant himself among the defenders of his 
 country. Inducing a worthy and popular friend, rather 
 too old for military service, to raise a troop of dragoons 
 as the readiest mode of accomplishing his object, Davie 
 obtained a lieutenancy in this troop. Without delay 
 the captain joined the Southern army, and soon after 
 ward returned home on a furlough. The command of 
 the troop devolving on Lieutenant Davie, it was, at his 
 request, annexed to the legion of Count Pulaski, where 
 Captain Davie continued, until promoted by Major-Gen 
 eral Lincoln to the station of Brigade Major of cavalry. 
 In this office Davie served until the affair at Stono, de 
 voting his leisure to the acquirement of professional 
 knowledge, and rising fast in the esteem of the general 
 and army. When Lincoln attempted to dislodge Lieu 
 tenant Colonel Maitland from his entrenched camp on 
 
72 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DA VIE. 
 
 the Stono, Davie received a severe wound, and was re 
 moved from camp to the hospital in Charleston, where 
 he was confined rive months. 
 
 Soon after his recovery he was empowered by the gov 
 ernment of North Carolina to raise a small legionary 
 corps, consisting of one troop of dragoons and two com 
 panies of mounteJ infantry; at the head of which he 
 was placed with the rank of major. 
 
 Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, in whose 
 equipment he expended the last remaining shilling of an 
 estate bequeathed to him by his uncle, he took the field, 
 and was sedulously engaged in protecting the country 
 between Charlotte and Camden, from the enemy s pre 
 datory excursions. On the fatal 19th of August, he 
 was hastening with his corps to join the army, when he 
 met our dispersed and flying troops. He nevertheless 
 continued to advance towards the conqueror; and by his 
 prudence, zeal, and vigilance, saved a few of our wag 
 ons, and many of our stragglers. Acquainted with the 
 movement of Sumpter, and justly apprehending that he 
 would be destroyed unless speedily advised of the de 
 feat of Gates, he despatched immediately a courier to 
 that officer, communicating what had happened, per 
 forming, in the midst of distress and confusion, the part 
 of an experienced captain. 
 
 So much was his conduct respected by the government 
 of North Carolina, that he was in the course of Septem 
 ber promoted to the rank of colonel commandant of the 
 cavalry of the state. 
 
 At the two gloomiest epochs of the southern war, 
 soon after the fall of Charleston and the overthrow of 
 Gates, it was the good fortune of Colonel Davie, to be 
 the first to shed a gleam through the surrounding dark 
 ness, and give hope to the country, by the brilliancy of 
 his exploits. In one instance, without loss or injury, on 
 his part, he entirely destroyed an escort of provisions, 
 taking 40 prisoners, with their horses and arms. In the 
 other, under the immediate eye of a large British force, 
 which was actually beating to arms, to attack him, he 
 routed a party stronger than his own killing and wound 
 ing 60 of the enemy, and carrying off with him 96 hor 
 ses and 120 stand of arms* 
 
WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 713 
 
 When Lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a small 
 village in North Carolina, Colonel Davie, at the head 
 of his detachment, threw himself in his front, determined 
 to give him a specimen of the firmness and gallantry, 
 with which the inhabitants of the place were prepared 
 to dispute with his lordship their native soil. 
 
 Colonel Tarhon s legion formed the British van, led 
 by Major Hanger, the commander himself being confin 
 ed by sickness. When that celebrated corps had ad 
 vanced near to the centre of the village, where the 
 Americans were posted, Davie poured into it so destruc 
 tive a fire, that it immediately wheeled, and retired in 
 disorder. Being rallied on the commons, and again led 
 on to the charge, it received on the same spot, another 
 fire with similar effect. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis witnessing the confusion, thus pro 
 duced, among his choicest troops, rode up in person, and 
 in a tone of dissatisfaction, upbraided the legion with 
 unsoldierly conduct, reminding it of its former exploits 
 and reputation. 
 
 Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry, Colonel 
 Davie had now fallen back to a new and well-selected 
 position. To dislodge him from this, the legion cavalry 
 advanced on him, a third time, in rapid charge, in full 
 view of the commander in chief, but in vain. Another 
 fire from the American marksmen, killed several of their 
 officers, wounded Major Hanger, and repulsed them 
 again with increased confusion. 
 
 The main body of the British being now within mus 
 ket shot, the Ameiican leader abandoned the contest. 
 
 It was by strokes like these, that he seriously crippled 
 and intimidated his enemy, acquired an elevated stand 
 ing in the estimation of his friends, and served very 
 essentially the interest of freedom. 
 
 In this station he was found by General Greene, on 
 assuming the command of the southern army; whose 
 attention had been occupied from his entrance into North 
 Carolina, in remedying the disorder in the quarter-mas 
 ter and commissary departments. To the first, Carring- 
 ton had been called ; and Davie was now induced to 
 take upon himself the last, much as he preferred the 
 
 K 
 
74 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 
 
 station lie then possessed. At the head of this depart 
 ment, Colonel Davie remained throughout the trying 
 campaign which followed; contributing greatly by his 
 talents, his zeal, his local knowledge, and his influence, 
 to the maintenance of the difficult and successful ope 
 rations which followed. While before Ninety-six, 
 Greene, foreseeing the difficulties again to be encounter 
 ed, in consequence of the accession of force to the enemy 
 by the arrival of three regiments from Ireland, deter 
 mined to send a confidential officer to the legislature of 
 North Carolina, then in session, to represent to them his 
 relative condition, and to urge their adoption of effectual 
 measures without delay, for the collection of magazines 
 of provisions and the reinforcement of the army. Colo 
 nel Davie was selected by Greene for this important 
 mission, and immediately repaired to the seat of govern 
 ment, where he ably and faithfully exerted himself to 
 give effect to the views of his general. 
 
 The effect of the capture of Cornwallis assuring the 
 quick return of peace, Colonel Davie returned home, 
 and resumed the profession with the practice of the law 
 in the town of Halifax on the Roanoke. 
 
 He was afterward governor of North Carolina, and 
 one of our ambassadors to France, at a very portentous 
 conjuncture. 
 
 The war in the south was ennobled by great and sin 
 gular instances of individual and partizan valour and 
 enterprise. Scarcely do the most high drawn heroes of 
 fiction, surpass, in their darings and extraordinary a- 
 chievernents, many of the real ones of Pickens, Marion, 
 Sumptcr, and Davie, who figured in the southern states, 
 during the conflict of the revolution. 
 
 Colonel Davie, although younger by several years, 
 possessed talents of a higher order, and was much more 
 accomplished, in education and manners, than either of 
 his three competitors for fame. For the comeliness of 
 his person, his martial air. his excellence in horseman 
 ship, and his consummate powers of field eloquence, he 
 had scarcely an equal in the armies of his country. But 
 his chief excellence lay in the magnanimity and gener 
 osity of his soul, his daring courage, his vigilance and 
 
HENRY DEARBORN. 75 
 
 address, and his unrelaxing activity and endurance of 
 toil. If he was less frequently engaged in actual com 
 bat, than either of his three compeers, it was not be 
 cause he was inferior to either of them in enterprise, or 
 love of battle. His district being more interior, was, at 
 first, less frequently invaded by British detachments. 
 When, however, lord Cornwallis ultimately advanced 
 into that quarter, his scouts and foraging parties, found 
 in Colonel Davie, and his brave associates, as formida 
 ble an enemy as they had ever encountered. 
 
 HENRY DEARBORN, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 THE subjoined sketch of the revolutionary services 
 rendered by General Dearborn, is collected from his 
 brothers in arms. 
 
 When the Brish sent a detachment to destroy the mil 
 itary stores in the vicinity of Lexington, Mr. Dearborn, 
 then a young gentleman in the study of medicine, resided 
 at Nottingham, in New-Hampshire. Animated by the 
 patriotic resistance of the Americans, immediately upon 
 tjeing informed of the battle, he assembled the inhabi 
 tants, and observed that the time had now arrived, when 
 the rights of the American people must be vindicated 
 by arms, or an odious despotism would for ever be rivet 
 ed upon them. The militia had already gathered; and 
 impressed with these sentiments, a company of 65 men, 
 armed and accoutred, paraded at 10 o clock of the next 
 day after the battle of Lexington. Dearborn advanced 
 with them in such rapidity, that they reached Cambridge 
 common, a distance of fifty miles in twenty hours. Af 
 ter remaining at Cambridge for several days, there being 
 no immediate occasion for their services, they returned. 
 Dearborn was soon after commissioned a captain in one 
 of the New-Hampshire regiments, under the command 
 of Col. Stark, and such was his popularity and the con 
 fidence of the people in his bravery and conduct, that 
 in ten days from the time he received his commission, he 
 enlisted a full company, and again marched to Cam 
 bridge. On the glorious seventeenth of June, information 
 
76 HENRY DEARBORN. 
 
 was received at Mystic (now Medford) where Dearborn 
 was stationed, that the British were preparing to come 
 out from Boston, and storm the works which had been 
 thrown up on Breed s Hill the night before, by the Amer 
 icans. 
 
 The regiment to which he was attached was imme 
 diately paraded, and marched to Charlestown Neck. 
 Dearborn s company composed the flank guard to the 
 regiment. They crossed the neck under a galling fire 
 from the British men of war and floating batteries, and 
 having sustained some loss, arrived at the heights. The 
 action soon commenced, and the Americans stood their 
 ground until their ammunition was expended, and they 
 could no longer beat off the British bayonets with the 
 but-ends of their muskets. Dearborn carried a fusee 
 into the battle of Bunker s Hill, and fired regularly with 
 his men. 
 
 The next arduous service in which he was engaged, 
 was the expedition to Canada, through the wilds of 
 Kennebec, under the command of General Arnold, He 
 was not ordered on this dangerous and difficult service, 
 but persuaded a captain, who was drafted, to exchange 
 places with him. Thirty-two days were employed in 
 traversing the hideous wilderness between the settle 
 ments on the Kennebec and the Chaudiere, in which 
 every hardship and fatigue, of which human nature is 
 capable, was endured indiscriminately by the officers 
 and troops. On the highlands, between the Kennebec 
 and St. Lawrence, the remnant of provisions was divi 
 ded among the companies, who were directed to make 
 the best of their way in separate divisions to the settle 
 ment of Chaudiere. The last payment of food in Dear- 
 borirs company was shortly consumed, and he was 
 reduced to the extremity of dividing a large dog which 
 accompanied him, with his associates. When they reach 
 ed the Chaudiere, from colds, extreme hardship, and 
 want of sustenance, his strength failed him, and he was 
 unable to walk but a short distance without walking 
 into the river to refrigerate and stimulate his limbs. 
 With difficulty he reached a poor hut, on the Chaudiere, 
 where he told his men he could accompany them no 
 
HENRY DEARBORN. 77 
 
 further, animated them forward to a glorious discharge 
 of their duty, and would suffer no one to remain to at 
 tend him in his illness. His company left him with tears 
 in their eyes, expecting to see him no more. Dearborn 
 was here seized with a violent fever, during which his 
 life was in danger for ten days, without physician or 
 medicine, and with scarcely the common necessaries of 
 life. His fine constitution at last surmounted his dis 
 ease, and as soon as he was able to mount a horse, he 
 proceeded to Point Levi, crossed over to Wolfs Cove, 
 and made his unexpected appearance at the head of his 
 company a few days before the assault on Quebec. At 
 four o clock in the morning of the 31st December, in a 
 severe snow storm, and in a climate that vies with Nor 
 way in tempest and intense cold, the attack was com 
 menced. Dearborn was attached to the corps under 
 Gen. Arnold, who was wounded early in the action, and 
 carried from the field. Morgan succeeded to the com 
 mand, and " with a voice louder than the tempest," ani 
 mated the troops as they stormed the first barrier and 
 entered the town. Montgomery had already bled on 
 immortal ground, and his division being repulsed, the 
 corps under Morgan was exposed to a sanguinary but 
 unavailing contest. From the windows of the store 
 houses, each a castle, and from the tops of the parapets, 
 a destructive fire was poured upon the assailants. In 
 vain was the second barrier gained by scaling ladders; 
 double ranks of soldiers presented a forest of bayonets 
 below, and threatened inevitable destruction to any one 
 who should leap from the walls. Dearborn maintained 
 for a long time this desperate warfare, until at last he 
 and the remnant of his company, were overpowered by a 
 sortie of 200 men, with field pieces, who attacked him 
 in front and rear, in a short street, and compelled him to 
 surrender. The whole corps, originally led on by Ar 
 nold, were killed or made prisoners of war. 
 
 Dearborn was now put into rigid confinement, with a 
 number of other officers, who were not allowed to con 
 verse with each other, unless in the presence of the 
 officer of the guard. While in prison he was urgently 
 solicited by the English officers to join the British: was 
 
78 HENRY DEARBORN. 
 
 promised a colonel s commission if he would accept, and 
 was assured if he refused, that he would be sent out to 
 England in the spring, and be inevitably hanged as a 
 rebel. The only reply he made to their solicitations or 
 menaces, was, that he had taken up arms in defence of 
 the liberties and the rights of his country ; that he never 
 would disgrace himself, or dishonour his profession, by 
 receiving any appointment under Great Britain, but was 
 ready to meet death in any shape, rather than relinquish 
 the glorious cause he had espoused. 
 
 In May, 1776, Col. Meigs and himself were permitted 
 to return on their parole. They were sent round to 
 Halifax in a ship of war, and treated with the usual 
 contempt and hauteur of English officers, who would 
 not deign to speak to Americans, nor even allow them 
 to walk the same side of the quarter deck with them 
 selves. They were put ashore in Penobscot Bay, and 
 returned by land. In the March following, Dearborn 
 was exchanged, and appointed Major to the 3d New- 
 Hampshire regiment, commanded by Col. Scammell. 
 In May he arrived at Ticonderoga, and was constantly 
 in the rear guard, skirmishing with the British and Indi 
 ans, in the retreat of St. Clair, when pressed on by Bur- 
 goyne s army. 
 
 When the advance of Burgoyne was checked, and he 
 encamped on the heights of Saratoga, Dearborn was 
 appointed Lieut. Col. commandant of a partizan corps 
 of 300 men, stationed in front, to act as a corps of ob 
 servation in concert with Morgan s riflemen. In the 
 famous engagement of the 19th of September, Colonel 
 Morgan himself commenced the encounter by driving in 
 the outposts and picket-guards of the right wing of the 
 British army, which was commanded by General Bur 
 goyne in person. In the hard fought battle of the 7th 
 of October, he was in the division of General Arnold, 
 who commenced a furious and persevering attack on the 
 right wing of the British forces. Whilst Arnold pressed 
 hard on the enemy, Dearborn was ordered to pass the 
 right, and take possession of eight heavy cannon, which 
 played over the British into the American lines. la 
 executing this order he was charged by a corps of light 
 
HENRY DEARBORN. 79 
 
 infantry, which he repulsed by fixed bayonets, gained 
 the eminence, took the cannon and the corps of artillery 
 attached to them, and having disposed of them, made a 
 rapid movement into the rear of the British lines, and 
 gave a full fire before his approach was discovered. 
 The British were soon after forced to a precipitate re 
 treat, and Dearborn assisted in storming their works 
 through the whole extent, under a tremendous fire of 
 grape and musketry. Arnold was wounded in the same 
 Jeg, which suffered when Dearborn followed him to the 
 assault of Quebec, and was repulsed from the works 
 after having gained a temporary possession of them; 
 but Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks having gained the left 
 of the encampment, was enabled to maintain his ground. 
 During the long-contested battle, which decided the fate 
 of Burgoyne s army, Dearborn was unable to rest, or to 
 take any refreshments, from daylight until late at night. 
 The succeeding winter he passed in camp at Valley 
 Forge, with the main body of the American army, 
 commanded by General Washington in person. 
 
 At the battle of Monmouth, the spirited conduct of 
 Colonel Dearborn, and the corps under his command, 
 attracted particularly the attention of the commander- 
 in-chief. After Lee had made a precipitate and unex 
 pected retreat, Washington, among other measures 
 which he took to check the advance of the British, or 
 dered Dearborn with 350 men, to attack a body of 
 troops which were passing through an orchard on the 
 right wing of the enemy. The Americans advanced 
 under a heavy fire, with a rapid movement, and shoul 
 dered arms. The enemy filed oif and formed on the 
 edge of a morass; the Americans wheeled to the right, 
 received their second fire with shouldered arms ;marched 
 up until within eight rods, dressed, gave a full fire, and 
 charged bayonets. The British having sustained con 
 siderable loss, fled with precipitation across the morass, 
 where they were protected by the main body of the 
 army. " What troops are those?" inquired Washington, 
 with evident pleasure at their gallant conduct: " Full- 
 blooded Yankees from New-Hampshire, sir," replied 
 Dearborn, 
 
&0 EVAN EDWARDb. 
 
 When the disaffection and treason of Arnold trans- 
 pired, he was stationed at West Point, and was officer 
 of the day at the execution of Major Andre. 
 
 In 1781, he was appointed Deputy-Quartermaster- 
 General, with the rank of Colonel, and served in that 
 capacity at the siege of Yorktown. In short, there was 
 scarcely a battle between Yorktown and Quebec, during 
 the long protracted war, in which Colonel Dearborn did 
 not take a brave, active, and conspicuous part. 
 
 EVAN EDWARDS, 
 
 Major in the American Army. 
 
 THE following interesting account is taken from Gar 
 den s "Anecdotes of the Revolutionary War." 
 
 " Among the many meritorious officers who gained 
 distinction in the service, there were few who better de 
 served, or in a more extensive degree obtained the res 
 pect of the public, and affectionate esteem of his milita 
 ry associates, than Major Edwards. 
 
 The Major was of the Baptist persuasion, and ori 
 ginally designed for the Ministry, but imbibing the 
 military spirit of the times, entered the army, and ap 
 peared* at the commencement of the war, as one of the 
 defenders of Fort Washington. A brave and stubborn 
 resistance could not save the post, which fell into the 
 hands of the enemy, and Edwards became a prisoner. I 
 have often heard him make a jest of the whimsical and 
 fantastic figure which he exhibited on this occasion. 
 "It was not to be wondered," he said, "that starch in 
 person, emaciated as an anatomy, with rueful counte 
 nance, rendered more ghastly by misfortune, my dress 
 partly military, but showing much of a clerical cut, that 
 the risibility of the conquerors should have been very 
 highly excited. One of the leaders, however, of the 
 successful assailants, anxious to excite a still higher 
 degree of merriment, ordered me to ascend a cart, and 
 as a genuine specimen of a Rebel officer, directed that I 
 should be paraded through the principal streets of New 
 York. It was at the entrance of Canvass Town, that I 
 was much amused by the exclamation of a Scottish 
 
EVAN EDWARDS. 81 
 
 female follower of the camp, who called to a compan 
 ion, Quick, quick lassie, rin hither a wee, and devarte 
 yoursel, they ve cotch d a braw and bonny Rebel, twill 
 do ye guid to laugh at him. Hooting and derision 
 attended my whole career, and at the conclusion of the 
 farce i was committed to prison." 
 
 In the eventful changes of the war it so happened, 
 that the very individual who had so ungenerously abused 
 his power, became a captive, experiencing the addition 
 al mortification of yielding his sword into the hands of 
 the man so lately treated with scornful indignity. Struck 
 with the singularity of the rencounter, and thoroughly 
 ashamed of his former behaviour, he with frankness 
 said You are the last man, Sir, that I wished to meet 
 on such an occasion, for no one have I ever so wantonly 
 offended; from you I have nothing to look for but mer 
 ited retaliation. Not a word more on the subject, I 
 beseech you, Sir, was the reply of Edwards, the sur 
 render of your sword destroyed every recollection of 
 former animosity; rest assured, therefore, that while 
 you remain with us, it will be equally my pride and 
 pleasure to sooth the pains of captivity, and to render 
 you every service in my power. 
 
 The cheerful disposition of Edwards, rendered him, 
 as I have already stated, an universal favourite. The 
 occasional indulgence of satirical propensities, pecu 
 liarly so of General Charles Lee, who made him his 
 Aid-de-camp, and at his death left him a third of hi& 
 estate. I never knew him, however, make an ill-natured 
 remark, where he was not provoked to do so then, in 
 deed, he spared not. 
 
 A Colonel in the army, who was too much inclined to 
 be poetical in his prose, telling Edwards, that he had 
 heard a report concerning him, that had greatly amused 
 him, the Major assured him that it was altogether with 
 out foundation. "O, no," said the Colonel, " deny it 
 not it must be true, and I will report and give it cur 
 rency." "Thank you, thank you, kind Sir," rejoined 
 Edwards, "your doing so, will save me the trouble of 
 contradicting it," 
 
 L 
 
82 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 
 
 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, 
 
 Brigadier-General and Lieutenant-Governor of South Carolina. 
 
 THIS venerable patriot of the revolution, was born in 
 Charleston, about the year 1724. He was sent to 
 England by his father, while a youth, where he was edu 
 cated. At the age of sixteen he returned to Carolina, 
 and finished his education in the counting house of Mr. 
 Lawrence of Philadelphia. 
 
 General Gadsden had naturally a strong love for in 
 dependence. He was born a republican. Under well- 
 ordered government, he was a good subject, but could 
 not brook the encroachments of any man, or body of men 
 to entrench on his rights. 
 
 " As early as 1766," says Judge Johnson, 4i there was 
 at least one man in South Carolina, who foresaid and 
 foretold the views of the British government, and expli 
 citly urged his adherents to the resolution, to resist even 
 to death. Gen. Gadsden, it is well known, always fa 
 voured the most decisive and energetic measures, He 
 thought it folly to temporize, and insisted that cordial 
 reconciliation, on honourable terms, w r as impossible. 
 When the news of the repeal of the stamp-act arrived, 
 and the whole community was in ecstacy at the event, 
 he, on the contrary, received it with indignation, and 
 privately convening a party of his friends, he harangued 
 them at considerable length on the folly of relaxing 
 their opposition and vigilance, or indulging the fallacious 
 hope, that Great Britain would relinquish her designs, 
 or pretentious. He drew their attention to the preamble 
 of the act, and forcibly pressed upon them the absurdity 
 of rejoicing at an act that still asserted and maintained 
 the absolute dominion over them. And then reviewing 
 all the chances of succeeding in a struggle to break the 
 fetters, when again imposed upon them, he pressed them 
 to prepare their minds for the event. The address was 
 received with silent but profound devotion, and with 
 linked hands, the whole party pledged themselves to re 
 sist; a pledge that was faithfully redeemed, when the 
 hour of trial arrived." 
 
CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 83 
 
 " In July 1775, when the provincial congress determin 
 ed to raise troops, Gadsden, though absent on the pub 
 lic duty at Philadelphia, was, without his consent or 
 knowledge, elected colonel of the first regiment. For 
 personal courage he was inferior to no man. In knowl 
 edge of the military art he had several equals, and some 
 superiors; but from the great confidence reposed in his 
 patriotism, and the popularity of his name, he was put 
 at the head of the new military establishment. He left 
 congress and repaired to the camp in Carolina, declaring 
 that u wherever his country placed him, whether in the 
 civil or military department; and if in the latter, wheth 
 er as corporal or colonel, he would cheerfully serve to the 
 utmost of his ability." 
 
 In the next year he was promoted by congress to the 
 rank of Brigadier-General. He commanded at fort 
 Johnson, when the fort on Sullivan s Island was attack 
 ed ; and he was prepared to receive the enemy in their 
 progress to Charleston. The repulse of the British 
 prevented his coming into action. Their retreat reliev 
 ed South Carolina from the pressure of war for two 
 years. In this period, Gadsden resigned his military 
 command, but continued to serve in the assembly and 
 the privy council, and was very active in preparing for 
 and endeavouring to repel the successive invasions of 
 the state by the British in 1779 and 1780. He was the 
 friend of every vigorous measure, and always ready to 
 undertake the most laborious duties, and to put himself 
 in the front of danger. 
 
 When Charleston surrendered by capitulation, he was 
 lieutenant-governor, and paroled as such, and honourably 
 kept his engagement. For ihe three months which fol 
 lowed, he was undisturbed; but on the defeat of Gates 
 in August 1780, the British resolved that he and several 
 others who discovered no disposition to return to the 
 condition of British subjects, should be sent out of the 
 country. He was accordingly taken in his own house 
 by a file of soldiers, and put on board a vessel in the 
 harbour. He knew not why he was taken up, nor what 
 was intended to be done with him, but supposed it was 
 introductory to a trial for treason or rebellion, as the 
 
84 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 
 
 British gave- out that the country was completely con 
 quered. 
 
 He was soon joined by twenty-eight compatriots, who 
 were also taken upon the same day. 
 
 He drew from his pocket half a dollar, and turning to 
 his associates with a cheerful countenance, assured them 
 that was all the money he had at his command. The 
 conqueror sent him and his companions to St. Augustine, 
 then a British garrison. 
 
 On their landing, limits of some extent were offered 
 to them on condition of their renewing the parole they 
 had given in Charleston, "to do nothing injurious to the 
 British interest." When this was tendered to General 
 Gadsden, he replied, "that he had already given one, 
 and honourably observed it; that in violation of his 
 rights as a prisoner under a capitulation, he had been 
 sent from Charleston, and that therefore he saw no use 
 in giving a second parole." The commanding officer 
 replied, " he would enter into no arguments, but demand 
 ed an explicit answer whether he would or would not 
 renew his parole." General Gadsden answered with 
 that highminded republican spirit which misfortunes 
 could not keep down, "I will not. In God I put my 
 trust, and fear no consequences." "Think better of it, 
 Sir," said the officer, " a second refusal of it will fix 
 your destiny ; a dungeon will be your future habitation." 
 "Prepare it then," said the inflexible patriot, U I will 
 give no parole, so help me God" He was instantly hur 
 ried off to the castle, and there confined for ten months 
 in a email room, and in a state of complete separation 
 from his fellow-prisoners, and in total ignorance of the 
 advantages gained by his countrymen, but with most 
 ample details of their defeats, and particularly of the 
 sequestration of his estate with that of the other Caro 
 lina rebels." 
 
 After Andre s arrest, Colonel Glazier, the governor of 
 the castle, sent to advise General Gadsden to prepare 
 himself for the worst, intimating that as General Wash 
 ington had been assured of retaliation, if Andre was 
 executed, it was not unlikely that he would be the per 
 son selected. To this, message he magnanimously 
 
CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 86 
 
 replied, " That he was always prepared to die for his 
 country, and that he would rather ascend the scaffold 
 than purchase with his life the dishonour of his country," 
 
 "In the course of 1781, the victories of General 
 Greene procured an equivalent for the release of all the 
 prisoners belonging to South Carolina. Mr. Gadsden 
 was discharged from close confinement and rejoined his 
 fellow-prisoners. The reciprocal congratulations on the 
 change of circumstances and on seeing each other after 
 ten months separation, though in the same garrison, may 
 be more easily conceived than expressed. They were 
 all conveyed by water from St. Augustine to Philadel 
 phia, and there delivered. On their arrivul they were 
 informed, for the first time, of the happy turn American 
 affairs had taken subsequent to Gate s defeat. Gen. 
 Gadsden hastened back to Carolina to aid in recovering 
 it from the British. He was elected a member of the 
 assembly which met at Jacksonborough in 1782. 
 
 General Gadsden continued in the country through 
 out the year 1782, serving as one of the governor s coun 
 cil. On the 14th of December, 1782, he with the 
 American army and citizens, made their triumphant 
 entry into Charleston in the rear of the evacuating Brit 
 ish. In the first moment of his return, after an absence 
 of more than two years, he had the pleasure of seeing 
 the British fleet, upward of 300 sail, in the act of de 
 parting from the port, and the capital, as well as the 
 country, restored to its proper owners. Mr. Gadsden 
 henceforward devoted himself to private pursuits, but 
 occasionally served in the assembly, and with unspeak 
 able delight in the two state conventions; the one for 
 the ratification of the national constitution in 1788, and 
 the other for revising the state constitution in 1790. 
 
 He survived his 8 1st year, generally enjoying good 
 health, and at last died more from the consequences of 
 an accidental fall than the weight of disease or decays 
 of nature. 
 
 His opinions of lawyers were not favourable. He 
 considered their pleadings as generally tending to ob 
 scure what was plain, and to make difficulties where 
 there were none ; and much more subservient to render 
 
S6 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 their trade lucrative, than to advance justice. He ad 
 hered to that clause of Mr. Locke s fundamental con 
 stitution, which makes it " a base and vile thing to plead 
 for money or reward;" and wished that the lawyers, 
 when necessary to justice, should be provided with sal 
 aries at the public expense, like the judges, that they 
 might be saved from the shame of hiring their tongues 
 to the first who offered or gave the largest fee. Of phy 
 sicians he thought very little. He considered temper 
 ance and exercise superior to all their prescriptions, 
 and in most cases they rendered them altogether unne 
 cessary. In many things he was particular. His pas 
 sions were strong, and required all his religion mid 
 philosophy to curb them. His patriotism was both 
 disinterested and ardent. He declined all offices of 
 profit, and through life refused to take the compensations 
 annexed by law to such offices of trust as were confer 
 red on him. His character was impressed with the 
 hardihood of antiquity; and he possessed an erect, firm, 
 intrepid mind, which was well calculated for buffeting 
 with revolutionary storms."* 
 
 HORATIO GATES, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL GATES was a native of England, and was 
 born in the year 1728. He was educated to the military 
 profession, and entered the British army at an early age, 
 in the capacity of lieutenant, where he laid the founda 
 tion of his future military excellence. Without purchase 
 he obtained the rank of major. He was aid to Gen. 
 Monckton, at the capture of Martinico, and after the 
 peace of Aix la Chapelle he was among the first troops 
 which landed at Halifax under Gen. Cornwallis. He 
 was an officer of the army which accompanied the un 
 fortunate Braddock, in the expedition against Fort du 
 Quesne, in the year 1755, and was shot through the 
 body. 
 
 When peace was concluded, he purchased an estate 
 in Virginia, where he resided until the commencement of 
 
 ^Ramsay s Hist. South Carolina. 
 
HORATIO GATES. 87 
 
 the American war, in 1775. Having evinced his zeal 
 and attachment to the violated rights of his adopted 
 country, and sustaining a high military reputation, he 
 was appointed by congress adjutant-general, with the 
 rank of brigadier, and he accompanied Gen. Washing 
 ton to the American camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775, 
 where he was employed for some time in a subordinate, 
 but highly useful capacity. 
 
 In June, 1776, Gates was appointed to the command 
 of the army of Canada, and on reaching Ticonderoga he 
 fitill claimed the command of it, though it was no longer 
 in Canada, and was in the department of Gen. Schuyler, 
 a senior officer, who had rendered eminent services in 
 that command. On representation to Congress, it was 
 declared not to be their intention to place Gates over 
 Schuyler, and it was recommended to these officers to 
 endeavour to co-operate harmoniously. Gen. Schuyler 
 was, however, shortly after directed by congress to re 
 sume the command of the northern department, and 
 General Gates withdrew himself from it; after which 
 he repaired to head-quarters, and joined the army under 
 General Washington in Jersey. 
 
 Owing to the prevalent dissatisfaction with the con 
 duct of General Schuyler, in the evacuation of Ticonde 
 roga,* Gates was again directed to take command. He 
 arrived about the 21st of August, and continued the 
 exertions to restore the affairs of the department, which 
 had been so much depressed by the losses consequent 
 on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. It was fortunate 
 for General Gates, that the retreat from Ticonderoga 
 had been conducted under other auspices than his, and 
 that he took the command when the indefatigable, but 
 unrequited labours of Schuyler, and the courage of 
 Stark and his mountaineers, had already ensured the 
 ultimate defeat of Burgoyne. 
 
 Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson, advanced along 
 its side, and encamped on the height, about two miles 
 from Gate s camp: which was three miles above Still- 
 water. This movement was the subject of much dis* 
 cussion. Some charged it on the impetuosity of the 
 
 *Vide Bio. of General Schuyler. 
 
88 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 general, and alleged that it was premature, before he 
 was sure of the aid from the royal forces posted in New 
 York ; but he pleaded the peremptory orders of his su 
 periors. The rapid advance of Burgoyne, and especial 
 ly his passage of the North River, added much to the 
 impracticability of his future retreat, and made the ruin 
 of his army in a great degree unavoidable. The Amer 
 icans, elated with their successes at Bennington and 
 Fort Schuyler, thought no more of retreating, but came 
 out to meet the advancing British, and engaged them 
 with firmness and resolution. 
 
 The attack began a little before mid-day, September 
 19th, between the scouting parties of the two armies. 
 The commanders of both sides supported and reinfor 
 ced their respective parties. The conflict, though severe, 
 was only partial for an hour and a half; but after a short 
 pause, it became general, and continued for three hours 
 without any intermission. A constant blaze of fire was 
 kept up, and both armies seemed determined on death 
 or victory. The Americans and British alternately 
 drove, and were driven by each other. The British ar 
 tillery fell into our possession, at every charge, but we 
 could neither turn the pieces upon the enemy nor bring 
 them off, so sudden were the alternate advantages. It 
 was a gallant conflict, in which death, by familiarity, 
 lost his terrors; and such was the order of the Ameri 
 cans, that, as General Wilkinson states, the wounded 
 men, after having their wounds dressed, in many instan 
 ces returned again into the battle. Men, and particu 
 larly officers, dropped every moment, and on every side. 
 Several of the Americans placed themselves on high 
 trees, and, as often as they could distinguish an officer s 
 uniform, took him off by deliberately aiming at his per 
 son. Few actions have been caharcterized by more ob 
 stinacy in attack or defence. The British repeatedly 
 tried their bayonets, but without their usual success in 
 the use of that weapon. 
 
 The British lost upwards of 500 men, including their 
 killed, wounded, and prisoners. The Americans, inclu 
 sive of the missing, lost 319. Thirty-six out of forty- 
 flight British artillerists were killed or wounded. The 
 
HORATIO GATES. 
 
 62d British Regiment, which was .500 strong, when it 
 left Canada, was reduced to 60 men, and 4 or 5 officers. 
 In this engagement General Gates, assisted by Generals 
 Lincoln and Arnold, commanded the American army, 
 and General Burgoyne was at the head of his army, 
 and Generals Phillips, Reidesel, and Frazer, with their 
 respective commands, were actively engaged. 
 
 This battle was fought by the general concert and 
 zealous co-operation of the corps engaged, and was sus 
 tained more by individual courage than military disci 
 pline. General Arnold, who afterward traitorously 
 deserted his country, behaved with the most undaunted 
 courage, leading on the troops and encouraging them by 
 his personal efforts and daring exposure. The gallant 
 Colonel Morgan obtained immortal honour on this day. 
 Lieutenant Colonel Brooks, with the eight Massachu 
 setts regiments, remained in the field till about eleven 
 o clock, and was the last who retired. Major Hall com 
 manded a detachment of three hundred men, who fought 
 with such signal ardour, that more than half of them 
 were killed. The whole number of Americans engaged 
 in this action, was about two thousand five hundred; 
 the remainder of the army, from its unfavourable situa 
 tion, took little or no part in the action. 
 
 Each army claimed the victory, and each believed 
 himself to have beaten with only part of its f;>rce, near 
 ly the whole of the enemy. The advantage how 
 ever was decidedly in favour of the Americans. In 
 every quarter they had been the assailants, and after 
 an encounter of several hours they had not lost a single 
 inch of ground. 
 
 General Gates, whose numbers increased daily, re 
 mained on his old ground. His right, which extended 
 to the river, had been rendered unassailable, and he 
 used great industry to strengthen his left. 
 
 Both armies retained their position until the 7th of 
 October; Burgoyne, in the hope of being relieved by 
 Sir Henry Clinton; and Gates, in the confidence of 
 growing stronger every day, and of rendering the des 
 truction of his enemy more certain. But receiving no 
 further intelligence from Sir Henry, the British General 
 
 M 
 
90 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 determined to make one more trial of strength with his 
 adversary. The following account of the brilliant af 
 fair of the 7th of Oct. 1777, is given in Thatcher sM ili- 
 tary Journal. 
 
 "I am fortunate enough to obtain from our officers, a 
 particular account of the glorious event of the 7th inst. 
 The advanced parties of the two armies came into con 
 tact, about three o clock on Tuesday afternoon, and 
 immediately displayed their hostile attitude. The 
 Americans soon approached the royal army, and each 
 party in defiance awaited the deadly blow. The gallant 
 Colonel Morgan, at the head of his famous rifle corps, 
 and Major Dearborn, leading a detachment of infantry, 
 commenced the action, and rushed courageously on the 
 British grenadiers, commanded by Major Ackland; and 
 the furious attack was firmly resisted. In all parts of 
 the field, the conflict became extremely arduous and 
 obstinate; an unconquerable spirit on each side disdain 
 ing to yield the palm of victory. Death appeared to 
 have lost his terrors; breaches in the ranks were no 
 sooner made than supplied by fresh combatants awaiting 
 a similer fate. At length the Americans press for 
 ward with renewed strength and ardour, and compel 
 the whole British line, commanded by Burgoyne him 
 self, to yield to their deadly fire, and they retreat in 
 disorder. The German troops remain firmly posted at 
 their lines; these were now boldly assaulted by Briga 
 dier-General Leonard, and Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks, 
 at the head of their respective commands, with such 
 intrepidity, that the works were carried, and their brave 
 commander, Lieut. Colonel Breyman, was slain. The 
 Germans were pursued to their encampment, which with 
 all the equipage of the brigade fell into our hands. 
 Colonel Cilley, of General Poor s brigade, having ac 
 quitted himself honourably, was seen astride on a brass 
 field-piece, exulting in the capture. Major Hall of the 
 Massachusetts line was among those who so bravely 
 stormed the enemy s entrenchment, and acted a con 
 spicuous part. General Arnold, in consequence of a 
 serious misunderstanding with General Gates, was not 
 vested with any command, by which he was exceedingly 
 
HORATIO GATES. 9l 
 
 chagrined and irritated. He entered the field, however, 
 and his conduct was marked with intemperate rashness; 
 flourishing his sword and animating the troops, he struck 
 an officer on the head without cause, and gave him a 
 considerable wound. He exposed himself to every dan 
 ger, and with a small party of riflemen, rushed into the 
 rear of the enemy, where he received a ball which frac 
 tured his leu;, and his horse was killed under him. 
 Nightfall put a stop to our brilliant career, though the 
 victory was most decisive, and it was with pride and 
 exultation that we recount the triumph of American 
 bravery. Besides Lieutenant Colonel Breyman slain, 
 General Frazer, one of the most valuable officers in the 
 British service, was mortally wounded, and survived 
 but a few hours. Frazer was the soul of the British 
 army, and was just changing the disposition of a part 
 of the troops to repel a strong impression which the 
 Americans had made, and were still making, on the 
 British right, when Morgan called together two or three 
 of his best marksmen, and pointing to Frazer, said, " Do 
 you see that gallant officer? that is General Frazer, 
 I respect and honour him; but it is necessary he should 
 die." This was enough. Frazer immediately received 
 his mortal wound, and was carried off the field. Sir 
 Francis Clark, aid-de-camp to General Burgoyne, was 
 brought into our camp with a mortal wound, and Major 
 Ackland, who commanded the British grenadiers, was 
 wounded through both legs, and is our prisoner. Sever 
 al other officers, and about two hundred privates, are 
 prisoners in our hands, with nine pieces of cannon and 
 a considerable supply of ammunition, which was much 
 wanted for our troops. The loss on our side is supposed 
 not to exceed thirty killed, and one hundred wounded, 
 in obtaining this signal victory." 
 
 The position of the British army, after the action of 
 the 7th, was so dangerous that an immediate and total 
 change of position became necessary, and Burgoyne 
 took immediate measures to regain his former camp at 
 Saratoga. There he arrived, with little molestation 
 from his adversary. His provisions being now reduced 
 to the supply of a few days, the transport of artillery 
 
92 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 and baggage towards Canada, being rendered impracti 
 cable by the judicious measures of bis adversary, the 
 British general resolved upon a rapid retreat, merely 
 with what the soldiers could carry. On examination, 
 however, it was found that they were deprived even of 
 this resource, as the passes through which their route 
 lay, were so strongly guarded, that nothing but artillery 
 could clear them. In this desperate situation a parley 
 took place, and on the 16th of October, the whole army 
 surrendered to General Gates. 
 
 The prize obtained consisted of more than five thou 
 sand prisoners, forty-two pieces of brass ordnance, sev 
 en thousand muskets, clothing for seven thousand men, 
 with a great quantity of tents, and other military stores. 
 
 Soon after the convention was signed, the Americans 
 marched into their lines, and were kept there until the 
 royal army had deposited their arms at the place ap 
 pointed. The delicacy with which this business was 
 conducted, reflected honour on the American general. 
 Nor did the politeness of Gates end here. Every cir 
 cumstance was withheld that could constitute a triumph 
 in the American army. The captive general \vas re 
 ceived by his conqueror with respect and kindness. A 
 number of the principal officers, of both armies, met at 
 Gen. Gates s quarters, and for a \vhile seemed to forget, 
 in social and convivial pleasures, that they had been 
 enemies. 
 
 Gen. Wilkinson gives the following account of the 
 meeting between Gen. Burgoyne and Gen. Gates: 
 
 "Gen. Gates, advised of Burgoyne s approach, met 
 him at the head of his camp, Burgoyne in a rich royal 
 uniform, and Gates in a plain blue frock. When they 
 had approached nearly within sword s length they 
 reined up and halted. I then named the gentleman, 
 and Gen. Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, said, 
 "The fortune of war, Gen. Gates, has made, me your 
 prisoner;" to which the conqueror, returning a courtly 
 salute, promptly replied, "I shall always be ready to 
 bear testimony that it has not been throug-h any fault of 
 your excellency." 
 
HORATIO GATES. 93 
 
 The thanks of Congress were voted "to Gen. Gates 
 ami his army; and a medal of gold, in commemoration 
 of this great event, was ordered to be struck, to be pre 
 sented to him by the president, in the name of the United 
 States. 
 
 It was not long after, that the wonderful discovery 
 was supposed to be made, that the illustrious Washing 
 ton was incompetent to the task of conducting the ope 
 rations of the American army, and that Gen. Gates, if 
 elevated to the chief command, would speedily meliorate 
 the condition of ou affairs. There were those who im 
 puted to General Gates himself, a principal agency in 
 the aifair, which, however, he promptly disavowed. 
 But certain it is, that a private correspondence was 
 maintained between him and the intriguing General 
 Conway, in which the measures pursued by General 
 Washington are criticised and reprobated, and in one of 
 Conway s letters, he pointedly ascribes our want of suc 
 cess to a weak general and bad co-insellors. General 
 Gates, on finding that General Washington had been 
 apprised of the correspondence, addressed his Excel 
 lency, requesting that he would disclose the name of 
 his informant, and in violation of the rules of decorum, 
 he addressed the commander-in-chief on a subject of 
 extreme delicacy in an open letter transmitted to the 
 president of congress. Gen. Washington, however, did 
 not hesitate to disclose the name and circumstances 
 which brought the affair to light. Gen. Gates then, with 
 inexcusable disingenuousness, attempted to vindicate 
 the conduct of Conway, and to deny that the letter 
 contained the reprehensible expressions in question, but 
 utterly refused to produce the original letter. This sub 
 ject, however, was so ably and candidly discussed by 
 General Washington, as to cover his adversary witli 
 shame and humiliation. It was thought inexcusable in 
 Gates, that he neglected to communicate to the com 
 mander-in-chief an account of so important an event 
 as the capture of the British army at Saratoga, but left 
 his Excellency to obtain the information by common 
 report. 
 
94 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 Dr. Thacher,in his Military Journal, relates the fol 
 lowing anecdote; "Mr. T , an ensign in our regi 
 ment, has, for some time, discovered symptoms of mental 
 derangement. Yesterday he intruded himself at Gen. 
 Gates s head-quarters, and after some amusing conver 
 sation, he put himself in the attitude of devotion, and 
 prayed that God would pardon Gen. Gates for endeav 
 ouring to supersede that godlike man, Washington. 
 The general appeared to be much disturbed, and direct 
 ed Mr. Pierce, his aid-de-camp, to take him away." 
 
 On the 13th of June, 1780, Gen. Gates was appointed 
 to the chief command of the southern army. Rich in 
 fame from the fields of Saratoga, he hastened to execute 
 the high and important trust: and the arrival of an 
 officer so exalted in reputation, had an immediate and 
 happy effect on the spirits of the soldiery and the hopes 
 of the people. It was anticipated that he who had 
 humbled Great Britain on the heights of the Hudson, 
 and liberated New-York from a formidable invasion, 
 would prove no less successful in the south, and become 
 the deliverer of Carolina and Georgia from lawless 
 rapine and military rule. But anticipations were vain, 
 and the best founded hopes were blighted! In the first 
 and only encounter which he had with Lord Cornwallis, 
 at Camden, Aug. 15th, he suffered a total defeat, and 
 was obliged to fly from the enemy for personal safety. 
 
 Proudly calculating on the weight of his name, and 
 too confident in his own superiority, he slighted the 
 counsel which he ought to have respected, and hunting 
 impetuously into the field of battle, his tide of popu 
 larity ebbed as fast at Camden as it had flowed at 
 Saratoga.* 
 
 It would be great injustice, however, to attribute the 
 misfortune altogether to the commander, under his pe 
 culiar circumstances. A large proportion of his force 
 consisted of raw militia, who were panic-struck, and 
 fled at the first fire; their rout was absolute and irre 
 trievable. In vain did Gates attempt to rally them. 
 
 *When the appointment of Gen. Gates to the chief command of the 
 southern Armyras announced, Gen. Lee, remarked, that " his northern 
 taurds would soon be exchanged for southern willows. 
 
HORATIO GATES. 95 
 
 That their speed might be the greater, they threw away 
 the ; r amis and accoutrements, and dashed into the 
 woods and swamps for safety. A rout more perfectly 
 wild and disorderly, or marked with greater consterna 
 tion and dismay, was never witnessed. Honour, man 
 hood, country, home, every recollection sacred to the 
 feelings of the soldier, and the soul of the brave, was 
 merged in an ignominious love of life. 
 
 But from the moment Gen. Gates assumed the com 
 mand in the south, his former judgment and fortune 
 seemed to forsake him. He was anxious to come to 
 action immediately, and to terminate the war by a few 
 bold and energetic measures; and two days after his 
 arrival in camp, he began his march to meet the enemy, 
 without properly estimating his force. 
 
 The active spirits of the place being roused and en 
 couraged, by the presence of a considerable army, and 
 daily flocking to the standard of their country, General 
 Gates, by a delay of action, had much to gain in point 
 of numbers. To the prospects of the enemy, on the 
 contrary, delay would have been ruinous. To them 
 there was no alternative but immediate battle and vic 
 tory, or immediate retreat. Such, however, was the 
 nature of the country, aud the distance and relative 
 position of the two armies, that to compel the Ameri 
 cans to action was impossible. The imprudence of the 
 American general in hazarding an engagement, at this 
 time, is further manifested by the fact, that in troops, on 
 whose firmness he could safely rely, he was greatly 
 inferior to his foe, they amounting to sixteen hundred 
 veteran and highly disciplined regulars, and he having 
 less than a thousand continentals. 
 
 Gen. Gates having retreated to Salisbury, and thence 
 to Hillsborough, he there succeeded in collecting around 
 him the fragments of an army. Being soon after rein 
 forced by several small bodies of regulars and militia, 
 he again advanced towards the south, and took post in 
 Charlotte. Here he continued in command until the 
 5th day of October, fifty days after his defeat at Cam- 
 den, when Congress passed a resolution requiring the 
 commander in chief to order a court of inquiry on his 
 
96 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 conduct, as commmander of the southern army, and to 
 appoint some other officer to that command. The in 
 quiry resulted in his acquittal: and it was the general 
 opinion that he was not treated by congress with that 
 delicacy, or indeed gratitude, that was due to an officer 
 of his acknowledged merit. He, however, received the 
 order of his supersedure and suspension, and resigned 
 the command to Gen. Greene with becoming dignity, as 
 is manifested, much to his credit, in the following 
 order: 
 
 " Head- Quarters, Charlotte, 3d December, 1730. 
 Parole, Springfield countersign, Greene. 
 
 The honourable Major-General Greene, who arrived 
 yesterday afternoon in Charlotte, being appointed by 
 his excellency General Washington, with the approba 
 tion of the honourable congress, to the command of the 
 southern army, all orders will, for the future, issue from 
 him, and all reports are to be made to him. 
 
 General Gates returns his sincere and grateful thanks 
 to the southern army for their perseverance, fortitude, 
 and patient endurance of all the hardships and suffer 
 ings they have undergone while under his command. 
 He anxiously hopes their misfortunes will cease there 
 with, and that victory, and the glorious advantages of 
 it, may be the future portion of the southern army." 
 
 General Greene had always been, and continued to 
 be, the firm advocate of the reputation of General 
 Gates, particularly if he heard it assailed with asperity; 
 and still believed and asserted, that if there was any 
 mistake in the conduct of Gates, it was in hazarding an 
 action at all against such superior force; and when in 
 formed of his appointment to supersede him, declared his 
 confidence in his military talents, and his willingness 
 "to serve under him/ 
 
 General Gates was reinstated in his military com 
 mand in the main army, in 1782; but the great scenes 
 of war were now passed, and he could only participate 
 in the painful scene of a final separation. 
 
 In the midst of his misfortune, General Gates 
 was called to mourn the afflictive dispensation of 
 
HORATIO GATES. 7 
 
 Providence, in the death of his only son. Major Garden, 
 in his excellent publication, has recorded the following 
 affecting anecdote, which he received from Dr. \\illiam 
 Reed: 
 
 " Having occasion to call on General Gates, relative 
 to the business of the department under my immediate 
 charge, I found him traversing the apartment which lie 
 occupied, under the influence of high excitement; his 
 agitation was excessive every feature of his counte 
 nance, every gesture betrayed it. Official despatches 
 informing him that he was superseded, and that the 
 command of the southern armv had been transferred to 
 General Greene, had just been received and perused by 
 him. His countenance, however, betrayed no expres 
 sion of irritation or resentment; it was sensibility alone 
 that caused his emotion. An open letter, which he held 
 in his hand, was often raised to his lips, and kissed with 
 devotion, while the exclamation repeatedly escaped 
 them u great man ! Noble, generous procedure !" VV hen 
 jhe tumult of his mind had subsided, and his thoughts 
 found utterance, he, with strong expression of feeling, 
 exclaimed " I have received this day a communication 
 from the commander-in-chief, which has conveyed more 
 consolation to my bosom, more ineffable delight to my 
 heart, than I had believed it possible for it ever to have 
 felt again. With affectionate tenderness he sympathi 
 zes with me in my domestic misfortunes, and condoles 
 with me on the loss I have sustained by the recent death 
 of an only son; and then with peculiar delicacy, lamen 
 ting my misfortune in battle, assures me, that his confi 
 dence in my zeal and capacity is so little impaired, that 
 the command of the right wing of the army will be be 
 stowed on me so soon as I can make it convenient to join 
 him." 
 
 After the peace, he retired to his farm in Berkley 
 county, Va. where he remained until the year 1790, 
 when he went to reside in New York, having first eman 
 cipated his slaves, and made a pecuniary provision for 
 such as were not able to provide for themselves. Some 
 of them would not leave him, but continued in his family, 
 
 N 
 
98 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 On his arrival at New York, the freedom of the city 
 was presented to him. In 1800 he accepted a seat in 
 the legislature, but he retained it no longer than he con 
 ceived his services might be useful to the cause of liberty, 
 which he never abandoned." 
 
 His political opinions did not separate him from many 
 respectable citizens, whose views differed widely from 
 his own. He had a handsome person, and was gentle 
 manly in his manners, remarkably courteous to all, and 
 gave indisputable marks of social, amiable, and benev 
 olent disposition. A few weeks before his death, he 
 closed a letter to a friend in the following words: "I 
 am very weak, and have evident sigrfs of an approach 
 ing dissolution. But I have lived, long enough, since I 
 have to see a mighty people animated with a spirit to 
 be free, and governed by transcendent abilities and 
 honour." He died without posterity, at his abode near 
 New York, on the 10th day of April, 1806, aged 78 
 years. 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL GREENE, although descended from ancestors 
 of elevated standing, was not indebted to the condition 
 of his family, for any part of the real lustre and reputa 
 tion he possessed. He was literally the founder of his 
 own fortune, and the author of his own fame. He was 
 the second son of Nathaniel Greene, a member of the 
 society of Friends, an anchor smith. 
 
 He was born in the year 1741, in the town of War 
 wick, and County of Kent, in the province of Rhode 
 Island. Being intended by his father for the business 
 which he himself pursued, young Greene received at 
 school, nothing but the elements of a common English 
 education. But to him, an education so limited, was 
 unsatisfactory. \Vith such funds as he was able to 
 raise, he purchased a small, but well selected library, 
 and spent his evenings, and all the time he could redeem 
 from his father s business, in regular^study. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 99 
 
 At a period of life, unusually early, Greene was ele 
 vated, by a very flattering suffrage, to a seat in the 
 legislature of his native colony. This was the com 
 mencement of a public career, which, heightening as it 
 advanced, and flourishing in the midst of difficulties, 
 closed with a lustre that was peculiarly dazzling. 
 
 Thus introduced into the councils of his country, at 
 a time when the rights of the subject, and the powers of 
 the ruler, were beginning to be topics of liberal discus 
 sion, he felt it his duty to avow his sentiments on the 
 momentous question. Nor did he pause or waver, as to 
 the principles he should adopt, and the decision he 
 should form. He was inflexibly opposed to tyranny and 
 oppression in every shape, and manfully avowed it. 
 But his character, although forming, was not completely 
 developed until the commencement of the troubles which 
 terminated in our independence. It was then that he 
 aspired to a head in the public councils; and throwing 
 from him, as unsuitable to the times, the peaceful habits 
 in which he had been educated, sternly declared for a 
 redress of grievances, or open resistance. This open 
 departure from the sectarian principles in which he had 
 been educated, was followed, of course, by his immedi 
 ate dismission from the society of Friends. 
 
 r \ he sword was earliest unsheathed in the colony of 
 Massachusetts; and on the plains of Lexington and 
 Concord, the blood of British soldiers, and Ameri 
 can subjects, mingled first in hostile strife. Nor was 
 Rhode Island, after that sanguinary affair, behind her 
 sister colonies, in gallantry of spirit, and promptitude of 
 preparation. 
 
 Greene commenced his military pupilage in the capa 
 city of di private soldier, in Oct. 1774, in a military asso 
 ciation, commanded by James M. Varnum, afterward 
 brigadier-general. But Rhode Island having in the 
 month of May, 1775, raised three regiments of mil 
 itia, she placed them under the command of Greene, 
 who without loss of time conducted them to head-quar 
 ters, in the village of Cambridge. 
 
 On the 2d of July, 177.0, General Washington, invested 
 by congress with the command in chief of the armies of 
 
100 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 his country, arrived at Boston. Greene availed himself 
 of an early opportunity amid the public demonstration 
 of joy, to welcome the commander in chief, in a per 
 sonal address, in which, with much warmth of feeling, 
 and kindness of expression, he avowed his attachment 
 to his person, and the high gratification he derived from 
 the prospect of being associated with him in aims, and 
 serving under him in defence of the violated rights of 
 his country. 
 
 This was a happy prelude to a friendship between 
 these two great and illustrious officers, which death, 
 alone, had the power to dissolve. It is a fact of notori 
 ety, that when time and acquaintance had made him tho 
 roughly acquainted with the character and merits of 
 General Greene, Washington entertained, and frequently 
 expressed an anxious wish, that, in case of his death 
 he might be appointed his successor to the supreme com 
 mand. 
 
 During the investment of Boston, by the American 
 forces, a state of things, which lasted for months, no 
 opportunity presented itself to Greene, to acquire dis 
 tinction by personal exploit. But his love of action, 
 and spirit of adventure, were strongly manifested; for he 
 was one of the few officers of rank, who concurred with 
 General Washington, in the propriety of attempting to 
 carry the town by assault. 
 
 On the evacuation of Boston by the British, the 
 .American troops were permitted to repose from their 
 toils, and to exchange for a time, the hardships and pri 
 vations of a field encampment, for the enjoyment of 
 plenty, in comfortable barracks. During this period of 
 relaxation, Greene continued with unabating industry 
 his military studies, and as far as opportunity served, 
 his attention to the practical duties of the field. This 
 course, steadily pursued, under the immediate supervis 
 ion of Washington, could scarcely fail to procure rank, 
 nnd lead to eminence. Accordingly, on the 26th of 
 August, 1776. he was promoted by congress to the rank 
 of major-general in the regular army. 
 
 A crisis, most glowing, and portentous to the cause of 
 freedom, had now arrived. In the retreat which now 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 101 
 
 commenced, through New-Jersey, General Washington 
 was Accompanied by General Greene, and receive:! from 
 him all the aid. that, under circumstances so dark and 
 unpromising, talents, devotion, and firmness could afford. 
 Possessed alike of an ardent temperament, hearts that 
 neither danger nor misfortune could appal, and an in 
 spiring trust in the righteousness of their cause, it be 
 longed to the character of these two great and illustri 
 ous commanders, never for a moment to despair of their 
 country. Hope and confidence, even now, beamed from 
 their countenances, and they encouraged their followers, 
 and supported them under the pressure of defeat and 
 misfortune. 
 
 Greene was one of the council of Washington, who 
 resolved on the enterprise of the 26th of December, 
 1776, against the post of the enemy at Trenton. The 
 issue is known, and is glorious in our history. About 
 one thousand Hessians, in killed, wounded, and prison 
 ers, with their arms, field equipage, and artillery, were 
 the trophies of that glorious morning, which opened on 
 the friends of American freedom, with the daystar of 
 hope. He was again of the council of the commander 
 in chief, in planning the daring attack of the 2d of Jan 
 uary, 1777, on the British garrison at Princeton, as well 
 his associate in achieving its execution. In both these 
 brilliant actions, his gallantry, prudence, and skill being 
 alike conspicuous, he received the applauses of his com 
 mander. He continued the associate and most confiden 
 tial counsellor of Washington through the gloomy and 
 ominous period that followed. 
 
 In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandywine, 
 General Greene, by his distinguished conduct, added 
 greatly to his former renown. In the course of it, a de 
 tachment of American troops, commanded by General 
 Sullivan, being unexpectedly attacked by the enemy, 
 retreated in disorder. General Greene, at the head of 
 W^eedon s Virginia brigade flew to their support. On 
 approaching, he found the defeat of General Sullivan a 
 perfect rout. Not a moment was to be lost. Throwing 
 himself into the rear of his flying countrymen, and re 
 treating slowly, he kept up, especially from his cannon, 
 
102 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 so destructive a fire, as greatly to retard the advance of 
 the enemy. Aiming at length at a narrow defile, secur 
 ed on the right and left by a thick woods, he halted, sent 
 forward his cannon, that they might be out of danger, in 
 case of his being compelled to a hasty retreat, and form 
 ed his troops, determined to dispute the pass with his 
 small arms. This he effected with complete success, 
 notwithstanding the vast superiority of the assailants; 
 until after a conflict of more than an hour and a half, 
 night came on, and brought it to a close. But for this 
 quick-sighted interposition, Sullivan s detachment must 
 have been nearly annihilated. 
 
 On this occasion, only, did the slightest misunder 
 standing ever occur, between General Greene and the 
 commander in-chief. In his general orders, after the 
 battle, the latter neglected to bestow any special ap 
 plause on Weedon s brigade. Against this, General 
 Greene remonstrated in person. 
 
 General Washington replied, "You, Sir, are consider 
 ed my favorite officer. Weedon s brigade, like myself, 
 are Virginians. Should I applaud them for their 
 achievement, under your command, I shall be charged 
 with partiality: jealousy will be excited, and the ser 
 vice injured." 
 
 "Sir," exclaimed Greene with considerable emotion, 
 "I trust your Excellency will do me the justice to believe 
 that I am not selfish. In my own behalf, I have nothing 
 to ask. Act toward me as you please ; I shall not com 
 plain. However richly I prize your Excellency s good 
 opinion and applause, a consciousness that I have en 
 deavored to do my duty, constitutes at present, my rich 
 est reward. But do not, Sir, let me entreat you, on ac 
 count of the jealousy that may arise in little minds, 
 withhold justice from the brave fellows I had the honor 
 to command." 
 
 Convinced that prudence forbade the special notice 
 requested, the commander-in-chief persisted in his si 
 lence. Greene, on cool reflection, appreciated the mo 
 tives of his general, and lost no time in apologizing for 
 his intemperate manner, if not for his expressions. De 
 lighted with his frankness and magnanimity, Washington 
 
NATttANIEL GREENE. 103 
 
 replied with a smile, " An officer, tried as you have 
 been, who errs but once in two years, deserves to be 
 forgiven." With that, he offered him his hand, and the 
 matter terminated. 
 
 Following General Greene in his military career, he 
 next presents himself on the plains of Germantown. 
 In this daring assault he commanded the left wing of 
 the American army, and his utmost endeavours were 
 used to retrieve the fortune of the day, in which his 
 conduct met the approbation of the commander-in-chief. 
 Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was often opposed, had 
 the magnanimity to bestow upon him a lofty encomium. 
 " Greene," said he, " is as dangerous as Washington. 
 He is vigilant, enterprising, and full of resources. With 
 but little hope of gaining any advantage over him, I nev 
 er feel secure when encamped in his neighbourhood." 
 
 At this period the quarter-master department, in the 
 American army, was in a very defective and alarming 
 condition, and required a speedy and radical reform: 
 and General Washington declared, that such reform 
 could be effected only by the appointment of a quarter 
 master-general, of great resources, well versed in busi 
 ness, and possessing practical talents of the first order. 
 When requested by Congress to look out for such an 
 officer, he, at once, fixed his eye on General Greene. 
 
 Washington well knew that the soul of Greene was 
 indissolubly wedded to the duties of line. Notwith 
 standing this, he expressed, in conversation with a mem 
 ber of Congress, his entire persuasion, that if General 
 Greene could be convinced of his ability to render his 
 country greater services in the quarter-master depart 
 ment, than in the field, he would at once accept the 
 appointment. " There is not," said he, " an officer of 
 the army, nor a man in America, more sincerely attached 
 to the interests of his country. Could he best promote 
 their interests, in the character of a corporal, he would 
 exchange, as I firmly believe, without a murmur, the 
 epaulet for the knot. For although he is not without 
 ambition; that ambition has not for its object the highes* 
 rank so much as the greatest good" 
 
104 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 When the appointment was first offered General 
 Greene, lie declined it, but after a conference with the 
 commander-in-chief, he consented to an acceptance, on 
 condition that he should forfeit nothing of his right to 
 command, in time of action. On these terms he receiv 
 ed the appointment on the 22d of March, 1 778, and en 
 tered immediately on the duties of the office. 
 
 In this station he fully answered the expectations 
 formed of his abilities; and enabled the American army 
 to move with additional celerity and vigour. 
 
 During his administration of the quarter-master de 
 partment, he took, on two occasions^ high and distin 
 guished part in the field ; the first in the battle of Mon- 
 rnouth ; the second in a very brilliant expedition against 
 the enemy in Rhode Island, under the command of Gen, 
 Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, the commander- 
 in-chief, disgusted with the behaviour of General Lee, 
 deposed him in the field of battle, and appointed Gen. 
 Greene to command the right wing, where he greatly 
 contributed to retrieve the errors of his predecessor, 
 and to the subsequent events of the day. 
 
 His return to his native state was hailed by the inhab 
 itants, with general and lively demonstrations of joy, 
 Even the leading members of the Society of Friends, who 
 had reluctantly excluded him from their communion, of 
 ten visited him at his quarters, and expressed their 
 sincere satisfaction at the elevation he had attained in 
 the confidence of his country. One of these plain gen- 
 temen being asked, in jest, by a young officer, how he, 
 as an advocate of peace, could reconcile it to his con 
 science, to keep so much company with General Greene, 
 whose profession was war? promptly replied, u Friend 
 it is not a suit of uniform that can either make or spoil 
 a man. True, I do not approve of this many coloured 
 apparel, (tothe officer s dress,) but whatever may be the 
 form or colour of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still retains 
 the same sound head and virtuous heart, that gained 
 him the love and esteem of our Society." 
 
 During the year 1779, General Greene was occupied 
 exclusively in the extensive concerns of the quarter 
 master department. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 105 
 
 About this time Gen. Greene was called to the per 
 formance of a duty, the most trying and painful he had 
 ever encountered. We allude to the melancholy affair 
 of Major Andre, adjutant-general to the British army, 
 who was captured in disguise within the American lines. 
 Washington detailed a court for this trial, composed of 
 fourteen general officers, La Fayette and Steuben being- 
 two of the number, and appointed general Greene to 
 preside. 
 
 When summoned to his trial, Andre frankly disclosed 
 without interrogatory, what bore heaviest on his own 
 life, but inviolably concealed whatever might endanger 
 the safety of others. His confessions were conclusive, 
 and no witness was examined against him. The court 
 were unanimous, that he had been taken as a spy, and 
 must suffer death. Of this sentence he did not complain, 
 but wished that he might be -permitted to close a life of 
 honour by a professional death, and not be compelled, 
 like a common felon, to expire on a gibbet. To effect 
 this, he made in a letter to General Washington, one of 
 the most powerful and pathetic appeals, that ever fell 
 from the pen of a mortal. 
 
 Staggered in his resolution, the commander-in-chief 
 referred the subject, accompanied by the letter, to his 
 general officers, who, with one exception, became unan 
 imous in their desire that Andre should be shot. 
 
 That exception was found in General Greene, the 
 president of the court. "Andre," said he, * 4 is either a 
 spy or an innocent man. If the latter, to execute him, 
 in any way, will be murder; if the former, the mode of 
 his death is prescribed by law, and you have no right 
 to alter it. Nor is this all. At the present alarming 
 crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn 
 and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short 
 of the execution of the prisoner, as a common spy; a 
 character of which his own confession has clearly con 
 victed him. Beware how you suffer your feelings to 
 triumph over your judgment. Indulgence to one may 
 be death to thousands Besides, if you shoot the pris 
 oner, instead of hanging him, you will excite suspicion, 
 which you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding 
 
 O 
 
106 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public 
 compassion, and the belief will become general, that, in 
 the case of Major Andre, there were exculpatory circum 
 stances, entitling him to lenity, beyond what he receiv 
 ed perhaps, entitling him to pardon. Hang him, 
 therefore, or set him free." 
 
 This reasoning being considered conclusive, the pris 
 oner suffered as a common spy. 
 
 We have now advanced to that period of the revolu 
 tionary war, in which the situation of Greene is about 
 to experience an entire change. No longer acting in 
 the vicinity, or subject to the immediate orders of a su 
 perior, we are to behold him, in future, removed to a 
 distance, and virtually invested with the supreme com 
 mand of a large section of the United States. 
 
 Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the southern 
 army, resolved that the conduct of General Gates, be 
 submitted to the examination of a court of inquiry, 
 and the commander-in-chief directed to appoint an offi 
 cer to succeed him. In compliance with the latter part 
 of the resolution, General Washington, without hesita 
 tion, offered the appointment to General Greene. In a 
 letter to Congress, recommending the general to the 
 support of that body, he made the most honourable 
 mention of him as " an officer in whose abilities, forti 
 tude, and integrity, from a long and intimate experience 
 of them, he had the most entire confidence." Writing 
 to Mr. Matthews, a member from Charleston, he says, 
 "You have your wish, in the officer appointed to the 
 southern command. I think I am giving you a general ; 
 but what can a general do without arms, without cloth 
 ing, without stores, without provisions." 
 
 General Greene arrived at Charlotte, the head quar 
 ters of General Gates, Dec. 2d, 1780, and in entering 
 on the duties of his command, he found himself in a 
 situation that was fearfully embarrassing. His army, 
 consisting mostly of militia, amounted to less than two 
 thousand men, and he found on hand but three days 
 provision, and a very defective supply of ammunition. 
 In front was an enemy, proud in victory, and too strong 
 to bo encountered. With such means, and under such 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 107 
 
 circumstances, to recover two states, already conquered, 
 and protect a third, constituted a task that was almost 
 hopeless. 
 
 It was not merely to meet an enemy in the field, to 
 command skilfully, and fight bravely, either in proffered 
 or accepted battle. These operations depend on mere 
 professional qualifications, that can be readily acquired 
 by moderate capacities. But to raise and provide for 
 an army in a dispirited and devastated country, creating 
 resources where they do not exist, to operate with an 
 incompetent force on an extended and broken line of 
 frontier; to hold in check, in many points, and to avoid 
 coming into contact in any, with an enemy superior in 
 numbers and discipline ; to conduct a scheme of war 
 fare like this, and such, precisely, was that which tested 
 the abilities of Geneial Greene, requires a genius of the 
 highest order, combined with indefatigable industry and 
 skill. 
 
 Preparatory to the commencement of the campaign, 
 Greene s first care was to prepare fov his troops subsis 
 tence and ammunition, and in effecting this, he derived 
 great aid from his personal experience in the business of 
 the commissary and quarter-master s departments. 
 This qualification for such a diversity of duties, present 
 ed him to his troops in the two-fold relation of their 
 supporter and commander. Much of the moral strength 
 of an army consists in a confidence in its leader, an 
 attachment to his person, and a spirit of subordination, 
 founded on principle. To such an extent was this true, 
 that even the common soldiery, sensible of the superin 
 tendence of a superior intellect, predicted confidently a 
 change of fortune. Their defeat at Camden was soon 
 forgotten by them, in their anticipations of future victo 
 ry. They fancied themselves ready once more to take 
 the field, and felt a solicitude to regain their lost reputa 
 tion, and signalize their prowess in presence of their new 
 arid beloved commander. 
 
 But, notwithstanding the spirit and confidence of his 
 troops, Greene found himself unable to meet the enemy 
 in the field. With Washington in his eye, and his own 
 genius to devise his measures, he resolved on cautious 
 
108 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 movements and protracted war. Yet. to sustain the 
 spirit of the country, it was necessary that he should 
 not altogether shun his enemy; but watching and con 
 fronting his scouts and foraging parties, fight, cripple, 
 and beat him in detail, and in all his movements, it was 
 necessary for him to maintain a communication with 
 Virginia, from which he was to receive supplies of pro 
 visions, munitions, and men. 
 
 General Greene s first movement, from the village of 
 Charlotte, was productive of the happiest effect. In 
 the month of December he marched, with his main ar 
 my, to the Cheraw Hills, about seventy miles to the 
 right of Lord Cornwallis, despatching, at the same time, 
 General Morgan, with four hundred continentals under 
 Colonel Howard, Colonel Washington s corps of drag 
 oons, and a few militia, amounting in all to six hundred, 
 to take a position on the British left, distant from them 
 about fifty miles. 
 
 This judicious disposition, which formed a rallying 
 point for the friends of independence, both in the east 
 and west, and facilitated the procurement of provisions 
 for the troops, excited his Lordship s apprehensions for 
 the safety of Ninety-Six and Augusta, British posts, 
 which he considered as menaced by the movements of 
 Morgan, and gave rise to a train of movements which 
 terminated in the celebrated battle of the Cowpens. 
 
 Cornwallis, immediately on learning the movements 
 of Greene, despatched Colonel Tar 1 ton with a strong 
 detachment, amounting, in horse and foot, to near a 
 thousand, for the protection of Ninety-Six, with orders 
 to bring General Morgan, if possible, to battle. Greatly 
 superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a 
 menacing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall back 
 rapidly. But this was not long continued. Glorying in 
 action, and relying with great confidence in the spirit 
 and firmness of his regular troops, Morgan halted at the 
 Cowpens, and prepared to give his adversary battle. 
 The opportunity was eagerly seized by Tarlton. An 
 engagement was the immediate consequence, and a 
 complete victory was obtained by the Americans,* 
 
 *Vide Biog. of General Morgan. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 109 
 
 Upwards of five hundred of the British laid down their 
 arms and were made prisoners, and a very considerable 
 number were killed. Eight hundred stand of arms, two 
 field pieces, and thirty-five baggage wagons fell to the 
 victors, who had only twelve killed and sixty wounded. 
 
 The victory of the Cowpens, although achieved under 
 the immediate command of Morgan, w?_s the first stroke 
 of General Greene s policy in the south, and augured 
 favourably of his future career. It led to one of the 
 most arduous, ably-conducted, and memorable opera 
 tions, that occurred in the course of the revolutionary 
 war the retreat of Greene, and the pursuit or Corn- 
 wallis, during the inclemencies of winter, a distance of 
 230 miles. 
 
 Galled in his pride, and crippled in his schemes, by 
 the overthrow of Tarlton, Lord Cornwallis resolved, by 
 a series of prompt and vigorous measures, to avenge the 
 injury and retrieve the loss which the royal arms had sus 
 tained at the Cowpens. His meditated operations, for 
 this purpose, were, to advance rapidly on Morgan, re 
 take his prisoners, and destroy his force; to maintain an 
 intermediate position, and prevent his union with Gen. 
 Greene: or, in case of the junction of the two armies, 
 to cut off their retreat toward Virginia, and force them 
 to action. 
 
 But General Greene, no less vigilant and provident 
 than himself, informed, by express, of the defeat of 
 Tarlton, instantly perceived the object his Lordship, and 
 ordering his troops to proceed, under General Kuger, 
 to Salisbury, where he meditated a junction with Mor 
 gan s detachment, he himself, escorted by a few dra 
 goons, set out for the head-quarters of that officer, and 
 joined him shortly after. 
 
 Cornwallis, having committed to the flames his heavy 
 baggage, and reduced his army to the condition of light 
 troops, dashed towards Morgan. And here commenced 
 the retreat of General Greene, in the course of which 
 he displayed such resources, and gained, in the end, such 
 lasting renown. Sensible of the immense prize for 
 which he was contending, he tasked his genius to the 
 uttermost. On the issue of the struggle was staked, 
 
1 10 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 not merely the lives of a few brave men; not alone the 
 existence of the whole army, but the fate of the south 
 and the integrity of the Union. But his genius was 
 equal to the crisis. By the most masterly movements, 
 Greene effected a junction of the two divisions of his 
 little army. 
 
 To his great mortification, Lord Cornwallis now per 
 ceived, that in two of his objects, the destruction of 
 Morgan s detachment, and the prevention of its union 
 with the main division, he was completely frustrated by 
 the activity of Greene. But to cut off the retreat of the 
 Americans into Virginia, after their union, and to compel 
 them to action, was still, perhaps, practicable, and to 
 the achievement of this he now directed his undivided 
 energies. 
 
 The genius of Greene, however, did not desert him 
 on this trying occasion. Self-collected, and adapting 
 his conduct to the nature of the crisis, his firmness grew 
 with the increase of danger; and the measure of his 
 greatness was the extent of the difficulties he was 
 called to encounter. Not h withstand ing the vigilance 
 and activity of his enemy, he brought his men in safety 
 into Virginia; and to crown the whole, no loss was sus 
 tained by him, either in men, munitions, artillery, or any 
 thing that enters into the equipment of an army. 
 
 Frustrated thus in all his purposes, Lord Cornwallis, 
 although the pursuing party, must be acknowledged to 
 have been fairly vanquished. Victory is the successful 
 issue of a struggle for superiority. Military leaders 
 contend for different objects; to vanquish their enemies, 
 in open conflict; to attack and overthrow them, by 
 stratagem and surprise; to exhaust their resources, by 
 delay of action; or to elude them, in retreat, until 
 strengthened by reinforcements, they may be able to 
 turn and meet them in the field. Of this last description, 
 was the victory of Greene, in this memorable retreat. 
 
 In Virginia, General Greene received some reinforce 
 ments, and had the promise of more; on which he 
 returned again into North Carolina, where, on their 
 arrival, he hoped to be able to act on the offensive. He 
 encamped in the vicinity of Lord Cornwallis s army. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. Ill 
 
 By a variety of the best concerted manoeuvres, he so 
 judiciously supported the arrangement of his troops, by 
 the secrecy and promptitude of his motions, that, du 
 ring three weeks, while the enemy remained near him, 
 he prevented them from taking any advantage of their 
 superiority; and even cut off all opportunity of their 
 receiving succours from the royalists. 
 
 About the beginning of March he effected a junction 
 with a continental regiment, and two considerable bo 
 dies of Virginia and Carolina militia. He then deter 
 mined on attacking the British commander, without loss 
 of time, " being persuaded," as he declared in his sub 
 sequent despatches, "that if he was successful, it would 
 prove ruinous to the enemy, and, if otherwise, that it 
 would be but a partial evil to him." On the 14th, he 
 arrived at Guilford Court-House, the British then lying 
 at twelve miles distance. 
 
 His army consisted of about four thousand five hun 
 dred men, of whom near two-thirds were North Carolina 
 and Virginia militia. The British were about two 
 thousand four hundred ; all regular troops, and the 
 greater part inured to toil and service in their long ex 
 pedition under Lord Cornwallis, who, on the morning of 
 the 15th, being apprised of General Greene s intentions, 
 marched to meet him. The latter disposed his army in 
 three lines: the militia of North Carolina were in front; 
 the second line was composed of those of Virginia ; and 
 the third, which was the flower of the army, was form 
 ed of continental troops, near fifteen hundred in number. 
 They were flanked on both sides by cavalry and riflemen, 
 and posted on a rising ground, a mile and a half from 
 Guilford Court-House. 
 
 The engagement commenced at half an hour after 
 one o clock by a brisk cannonade ; after which the Brit 
 ish advanced in three columns, and attacked the first line, 
 composed of North Carolina militia. These, who prob 
 ably had never been in action before, were panic-struck 
 at the approach of the enemy; and many of them ran 
 away without firing a gun, or being fired upon, and even 
 before the British had come nearer than one hundred 
 and forty yards to them. Part of them, however, fired: 
 
112 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 but thev thenfollowed the example of their comrades. 
 Their officers made every possible effort to rally them; 
 but neither the advantages of position, nor any other 
 consideration, could induce them to maintain their 
 ground. This shameful conduct had a great effect upon 
 the issue of the battle. The next line, however, be 
 haved much better. They fought with great bravery; 
 and were thrown into disorder; rallied, returned to the 
 charge, arid kept up a heavy fire for a long time; but 
 were at length broken, and driven on the third line, 
 when the engagement became general, very severe, and 
 very bloody. At length, superiority of discipline carri 
 ed the day from superiority of numbers. The conflict 
 endured an hour and a half: and was terminated by 
 General Greene s ordering a retreat, when he perceived 
 that the enemy were on the point of encircling his 
 troops."* 
 
 This was a hard-fought action, and the exertions of 
 the two rival generals, both in preparing for this action, 
 and during the course of it, were never surpassed. For 
 getful of every thing, but the fortune of the day, they, 
 on several occasions, mingled in the danger, like com 
 mon soldiers. 
 
 The loss sustained by the Americans, in this battle, 
 amounted, in killed and wounded, to only about 400; 
 while in its effect on the enemy it was murderous; nearly 
 one third of them, including many officers of distinction, 
 were killed and wounded. 
 
 The result of this conflict, although technically a de 
 feat, was virtually a victory on the part of Gen. Greene. 
 In its relation to his adversary, it placed him on higher 
 ground than he had previously occupied; enabling him, 
 immediately afterward, instead of retreating, to become 
 the pursuing party. This is evidenced by his conduct 
 soon after the action. 
 
 Not doubting that Lord Carnwallis would follow him, 
 he retreated slowly, and in good order, from the field of 
 battle, until attaining, at the distance of a few miles, an 
 advantageous position, he again drew up his forces, 
 
 *Am. Biographical Dictionary, 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 113 
 
 determined to renew the contest on the arrival of his 
 enemy. But his Lordship was in no condition to pursue. 
 Having, by past experience, not to be forgotten, learnt 
 that his adversary was a Ulysses in wisdom, he now 
 perceived that he was an Ajax in strength. Alike ex 
 pert in every mode of warfare, and not to be vanquish 
 ed, either by stratagem or force, he found him too formi 
 dable to be again approached. 
 
 Influenced by these sentiments, Lord Cornwallis, 
 instead of pursuing his foe, or even maintaining his 
 ground, commenced his retreat, leaving behind him 
 about seventy of his wounded, whom he recommended, 
 in a letter written by himself, to the humanity and at 
 tention of the American chief. 
 
 Had General Greene been in a situation to pursue his 
 Lordship, as soon as he commenced his retreat, the des 
 truction of that officer and his army would have been 
 inevitable. Some spot on the plains of Carolina would 
 have witnessed the surrender that was reserved for Vir 
 ginia; and the hero of the south would have won the 
 laurels which, shortly afterwards, decorated the brow of 
 the hero of the nation. But Greene s military stores 
 were so far expended that he could not pursue, until he 
 received a supply; and the delay, thus occasioned, gave 
 time to the British commander to effect his escape. 
 
 Having received his supplies, Greene immediately 
 pursued the enemy; but the advanced position of Lord 
 Cornwallis, and the impracticable condition of the 
 roads, frustrated every exertion that General Greene 
 could make to compel the enemy to a second engage 
 ment, convinced of this, he halted to indulge his troops 
 in that refreshment and repose which they so much 
 needed. 
 
 Were we to indicate the period in the life of General 
 Greene most strongly marked by the operations, and 
 irradiated by the genius of a great commander, we 
 would, without hesitation, select that which extends 
 from the commencement of his retreat before Corn 
 wallis, to the termination of his pursuit of him at this 
 time. Perhaps a brighter era does not adorn the military 
 Career of any leader. It was in the course of it that he 
 
 P 
 
114 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 turned the current of adverse fortune consequent on 
 the defeat of Gates, which he afterward directed with 
 such certain aim and irresistible force, as to keep the 
 enemy from Jiis numerous strong holds in the southern 
 department, and contributed so pre-eminently to the 
 speedy and felicitous issue of the war, 
 
 Having abandoned the pursuit of the British army, 
 the general again found himself encircled with difficul 
 ties. Of the southern department of the union, o\er 
 which Greene s command extended, the enemy was in 
 force in three large and important sections. Georgia 
 and South Carolina were entirely in their possession; 
 Lord Cornwallis had taken post in the maritime district 
 of North Carolina, and part of Virginia was occupied 
 by a powerful detachment of British troops, under the 
 command of Gen. Phillips. At a loss to determine in 
 which of these points he should act in person, he con 
 sulted his officers, .and found them greatly divided in 
 opinion. He, however, resolved, in accordance to the 
 views of Colonel Lee, that, leaving his lordship, whose 
 object evidently was the invasion of Virginia, to be met 
 by the energies of that state, with such assistance as 
 might arrive from the north, he should penetrate South 
 Carolina, his aflny divided into two columns, attack and 
 beat the enemy at their different posts, without permit 
 ting them to concentrate their forces, and thus recover 
 that rich and important member of the union. 
 
 An officer who had distinguished himself in the late 
 action, not satisfied with the proposed plan of opera 
 tions, asked General Greene by way of remonstrance, 
 " What will you do, Sir, in case Lord Cornwallis throws 
 himself in your rear, and cuts off your communication 
 with Virginia?"- "I will punish his temerity," replied 
 the general, with great pleasantness, " by ordering you to 
 charge him as you did at the battle of Guilforcl. But 
 never fear, Sir; his lordship has too much good sense 
 ever again to risk his safety so far from the sea-board. 
 He has just escaped ruin, and he knows it, and I am 
 greatly mistaken in his character as an officer, if he has 
 not the capacity to profit by experience." 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 115 
 
 On the seventh of April, General Greene broke up 
 his encampment, and with the main column of his army, 
 moving to the south, took position on Hodkirk s Hill, in 
 front of Camden, the head quarters of Lord Rawdon, 
 now the commander-in-chief of the British forces in the 
 south. 
 
 The strength of the British position, which was cov 
 ered on the south and east side by a river and creek ; 
 and to the westward and northward, by six redoubts; 
 rendered it impracticable to carry it by storm, with the 
 small army Greene had, consisting of about seven hun 
 dred continentals, the militia having gone home. He, 
 therefore, encamped at about a mile from the town, in 
 order to prevent supplies from being brought in, and to 
 take advantage of such favourable circumstances as 
 might occur. 
 
 Lord Rawdon s situation was extremely delicate* 
 Colonel Watson, whom he had some time before de 
 tached, for the protection of the eastern frontiers, and 
 to whom he had, on the intelligence of General Greene s 
 intentions, sent orders to return to Camden, was so ef 
 fectually watched by General Marion, that it was im 
 possible for him to obey. His lordship s supplies were, 
 moreover, very precarious; and should General Greene s 
 reinforcements arrive, he might be so closely invested, as 
 to be at length obliged to surrender. In this dilemma, 
 the best expedient that suggested itself, was a bold at 
 tack ; for which purpose, he armed every person with 
 him capable of carrying a musket, not excepting his 
 musicians and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of 
 April, and attacked General Greene in his camp. The 
 defence was obstinate; and for some part of the engage 
 ment the advantage appeared to be in favour of the 
 Americans. Lieutenant Colonel Washington, wtoo com 
 manded the cavalry, had at one time no less than two 
 hundred British prisoners. However, by the miscon 
 duct of one of the American regiments, victory was 
 snatched from General Greene, who was compelled to 
 retreat. He lost in the action about two hundred kill 
 ed, wounded, and prisoners. Rawdon lost about two 
 hundred and fifty-eight. 
 
116 NATHANIEL GREENfc. 
 
 There was a great similarity between the consequen 
 ces of the affair at Guilford, and those of this action. In 
 the former, Lord Cornwallis was successful; but was 
 afterward obliged to retreat two hundred miles from the 
 scene of action, and for a time abandoned the grand ob 
 ject of penetrating to the northward. In the latter, Lord 
 Rawdon had the honour of the field ; but was shortly 
 after reduced to the necessity of abandoning his post,and 
 leaving behind him a number of sick and wounded. 
 
 The evacuation of Camden, with the vigilance of 
 General Greene, and the several officers he employed, 
 gave a new complexion to affairs in South Carolina, 
 where the British ascendency declined more rapidly 
 than it had been established. The numerous forts, gar 
 risoned by the enemy, fell one after the other, into the 
 hands of the Americans. Orangeburg, Motte, Watson, 
 Georgetown, Granby, and others, Fort Ninety-Six ex- 
 cepted, were surrendered ; and a very considerable num 
 ber of prisoners of war, with military stores and artille 
 ry, were found in them. 
 
 On the 22d May, General Greene sat down before 
 Ninety-Six, with the main part of his little army. The 
 siege was carried on for a considerable time with great 
 spirit; and the place was defended with equal bravery. 
 At length the works were so far reduced, that a surren 
 der must have been made in a few days, when a rein 
 forcement of three regiments, from Europe, arrived at 
 Charleston, which enabled Lord Rawdon to proceed to 
 relieve this important post. The superiority of the ene- 
 my ? s force reduced General Greene to the alternative of 
 abandoning the siege altogether, or, previous to their 
 arrival, of attempting the fort by storm. The latter was 
 more agreeable to his enterprising spirit; and an attack 
 was made, on the morning of the 19th of June. He was 
 repulsed with the Joss of one hundred and fifty men. 
 He raised the siege, and retreated over the Saluda. 
 
 Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs about 
 this period, says, "truly distressing was the situation of 
 the American army: whiui in the grasp of victory, to be 
 obliged to expose themselves to a hazardous assault, 
 and afterward to abandon a siege. When they were 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 117 
 
 nearly masters of the whole country, to be compelled to 
 retreat to its extremity; and after subduing the great 
 est part of the force sent against them, to be under the 
 necessity of encountering still greater reinforcements, 
 when their remote situation precluded them from the 
 hope of receiving a single recruit. In this gloomy situ 
 ation, there were not wanting persons who advised Gen 
 eral Greene to leave the state, and retire with his re 
 maining forces to Virginia. To arguments and sugges 
 tions of this kind he nobly replied, 4 I will recover the 
 country, or die in the attempt. This distinguished offi] 
 cer, whose genius was most vigorous in those extremi 
 ties, when feeble minds abandon themselves to despair, 
 adopted the only resource now left him, of avoiding an 
 engagement, until the British force should be divided."* 
 
 Greene, having, without loss, made good his passage 
 over the rivers in front, Lord Rawdon, perceiving the 
 futility of any further attempt to overtake him, aban 
 doned the pursuit, and retreating to Ninety-Six, prepared 
 for its evacuation. Thus did the policy of Greene, 
 which is moral strength, compel the surrender of that 
 fortress, although from a want of physical strength, he 
 failed to carry it by the sword. 
 
 No sooner had Lord Rawdon commenced his retro 
 grade movement towards Ninety-Six than Gen. Greene 
 changed his front, and moved in the same direction. On 
 the breaking up of the garrison of Ninety-Six, and the 
 return of Lord Rawdon towards Charleston, which im 
 mediately ensued, the British army moved in two col 
 umns, at a considerable distance from each other. It 
 was then that General Greene became, in reality, the 
 pursuing party, exceedingly anxious to bring the enemy 
 to battle. But this he was unable to accomplish until 
 September. 
 
 September the 9th, General Greene having assembled 
 about two thousand men, proceeded to attack the Brit 
 ish, who, under the command of Colonel Stewart, were 
 posted at Eutaw Springs. The American force was 
 drawn up in two lines: the first, composed of Carolina 
 
 *Am. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
118 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 militia, was commanded by Generals Marion and Pick- 
 ens, and Colonel de Malmedy. The second, which 
 consisted of continental troops, from North Carolina, 
 Virginia, and Maryland, was commanded by General 
 Sampler, Lieutenant Colonel Campbell, and Colonel 
 Williams: Lieutenant Colonel Lee, with his legion, 
 covered the right flank; and Lieut, Colonel Henderson, 
 with the state troops, covered the left. A corps de 
 reserve was formed of the cavalry, under Lieutenant 
 Colonel Washington, and the Delaware troops under 
 Captain Kirkwood. As the Americans came forward 
 to the attack, they fell in with some advanced parties of 
 the enemy, at about two or three miles ahead of the main 
 body. These being closely pursued, were driven back, 
 and the action soon became general. The militia were 
 at length forced to give way, but were bravely supported 
 by the second line. In the hottest part of the engage 
 ment, General Greene ordered the Maryland and Vir 
 ginia continentals to charge with trailed arms. This 
 decided the fate of the day. "Nothing," says Dr. Ram 
 say, "could surpass the intrepidity of both officers and 
 men on this occasion. They rushed on in good order 
 through a heavy cannonade, and a shower of musketry, 
 with such unshaken resolution, that they bore down all 
 before them." The British were broken, closely pursu 
 ed, and upwards of five hundred of them were taken 
 prisoners. They, however, made afresh stand in a fa 
 vourable position, in impenetrable shrubs and a piqueted 
 garden. Lieutenant Colonel Washington, after having 
 made every effort to dislodge them, was wounded and 
 taken prisoner. Four six pounders were brought for 
 ward to play upon them, but they fell into their hands; 
 and the endeavours to drive them from their station, be 
 ing found impracticable, the Americans retired, leaving 
 a very strong piquet on the field of battle. Their loss 
 was about five hundred; that of the British upwards of 
 eleven hundred. 
 
 General Greene was honoured by congress with a 
 British standard, and a gold medal, emblematical of 
 the engagement, " for his wise, decisive, and magnani 
 mous conduct, in the action of Eutaw Springs, in which, 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 1 19 
 
 with a force inferior in number to that of the enemy, he 
 obtained a most signal victory." 
 
 In the evening of the succeeding day, Colonel Stew 
 art abandoned his post, and retreated towards Charles 
 ton leaving behind upwards of seventy of his wounded 
 and a thousand stand of arms. He was pursued a 
 considerable distance, but in vain. 
 
 In Dr. Caldwell s memoirs of the life of Gen. Greene, 
 we have the following interesting story as connected 
 with the severe conflict at Eutaw Springs. 
 
 "Two young officers, bearing the same rank, met in 
 personal combat. The American, perceiving that the 
 Briton had a decided superiority, in the use of the sa 
 bre, and being himself of great activity and personal 
 strength, almost gigantic, closed with his adversary and 
 made him his prisoner. 
 
 44 Gentlemanly, generous, and high minded, this event, 
 added to a personal resemblance which they were ob 
 served to bear to each other, produced between these 
 two youthful warriors, an intimacy, which increased in a 
 short time to a mutual attachment. 
 
 "Not long after the action, the American officer re 
 turning home, on furlough, to settle some private busi 
 ness, obtained permission for his friend to accompany 
 him. 
 
 "Travelling without attendants or guard, they were 
 both armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay 
 through a settlement highly disaffected to the American 
 cause. 
 
 44 When in the midst of this, having, in consequence of 
 a shower of rain, thrown about them their cloaks, which 
 concealed their uniforms, they were suddenly encoun 
 tered by a detachment of tories. 
 
 44 The young American, determined to die rather than 
 become a prisoner, especially to men whom he held in 
 abhorrence for disloyalty to their country, and the gen 
 erous Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he 
 had been distinguished and treated so kindly, they both 
 together, with great spirit and selfpossession, charged 
 the royalists, having first made signals in their rear, as 
 if directing others to follow them; and thus, without in- 
 
120 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 jury on either side, had the address and good fortune to 
 put the party to flight. 
 
 "Arriving in safety at their place of destination, what 
 was their surprise and augmented satisfaction, on find 
 ing, from some questions proposed by the American 
 officer s father, that they were first cousins! 
 
 "With increasing delight, the Briton passed several 
 weeks in the family of kinsman, where the writer of 
 this narrative saw him daily, and often listened with the 
 rapture of a child, to the checkered story of his military 
 adventures. 
 
 "To heighten the occurrence, and render it more ro 
 mantic, the American officer had a sister, beautiful and 
 accomplished, whose heart soon felt for the gallant 
 stranger, more than the affection due to a cousin. The 
 attachment was mutual. 
 
 "But here the adventure assumed a tragical cast. 
 The youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned 
 to return to his regiment. The message was fatal to his 
 peace. But military honour demanded the sacrifice; 
 and the lady, generous and high minded as himself, would 
 not be instrumental in dimming his laurels. The part 
 ing scene was a high-wrought picture of tenderness and 
 sorroW. On taking leave, the parties mutually bound 
 themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain single a cer 
 tain number of years, in the hope that an arrangement 
 contemplated might again bring them together. A few 
 weeks afterward, the lady expired under an attack of 
 small-pox. The fate of the officer we never learnt."* 
 
 Judge Johnson in his life of General Greene, says 
 " At the battle of the Eutaw Springs, Greene says, that 
 hundreds of my men were naked as they were born. 
 Posterity will scarcely believe that the bare loins of ma 
 ny brave men who carried death into the enemy s ranks, 
 at the Eutaw, were galled by their cartouch boxes, while 
 a folded rag or a tuft of moss protected their shoulders 
 from sustaining the same injury from the musket. Men 
 of other times will inquire, by what magic was the army 
 kept together? By what supernatural power was it 
 made to fight?" 
 
 *Am. Biographical Dictionary. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 121 
 
 General Greene in his letters to the secretary at war, 
 says "We have three hundred men without arms, and 
 more than one thousand so naked that they can be put 
 on duty only in cases of a desperate nature." Again 
 he says "Our difficulties are so numerous, and our 
 wants so pressing, that 1 have not a moment s relief from 
 the most painful anxieties. I have more embarrass 
 ments than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let it 
 suffice to say that this part of the United States has 
 had a narrow escape. I have been seven months in the 
 field without taking off my clothes" 
 
 The battle of Eutaw Springs being terminated, Gen. 
 Greene ordered the light troops under Lee and Marion 
 to march circuitously, and gain a position in the British 
 rear. But the British leader was so prompt in his meas 
 ures, and so precipitate in his movements, that leaving 
 his sick and wounded behind him, he made good his 
 retr*.-;u. The only injury he received in his flight, was 
 from Lee and Marion, who cut off part of his rear guard, 
 galled him in his flanks, killed several, and made a 
 number of prisoners. 
 
 Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw. Like 
 that of every other fought by General Greene, it mani 
 fested in him, judgment and sagacity of the highest or 
 der. Although he was repeatedly forced from the field, 
 it may be truly said of that officer, that he never lost an 
 action the consequences, at least, being always in his 
 favour. In no instance did he fail to reduce his enemy 
 to a condition, relatively much worse than that in which 
 he met him, his own condition, of course, being relative 
 ly improved. 
 
 The battle of the Eutaw Springs, was the last essay 
 in arms, in which it was the fortune of General Greene 
 to command, and was succeeded by the abandonment of 
 the whole of South Carolina by the enemy, except 
 Charleston. During the relaxation that followed, a 
 dangerous plot was formed, by some mutinous persons 
 of the army, to deliver up their brave general to the 
 British. The plot was discovered and defeated; the 
 ringleader was apprehended, tried, and shot, and twelve 
 of the most guilty of his associates, deserted to the 
 
 Q 
 
122 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 enemy. To the honour of the American character, no 
 native of the country was known to be concerned in this 
 conspiracy. Foreigners alone were the projectors and 
 abettors. 
 
 The surrender of Lord Cornwallis, whose enterprising 
 spirit had been, by the British ministry, expected to 
 repair the losses, and wipe away the disgrace which had 
 been incurred through the inactivity and indolence of 
 other Generals, having convinced them of the impracti 
 cability of subjugating America, they discontinued offen 
 sive operation in every quarter. The happy period at 
 length arrived, when, by the virtue and bravery of her 
 sons, aided by the bounty of heaven, America compel 
 led her invaders to acknowledged her independence. 
 Then her armies quitted the tented field, and retired to 
 cultivate the arts of peace and happini ss. Gen. Greene 
 immediately withdrew from the south, and returned to 
 the bosom of his native state. 
 
 The reception he there experienced, was cordial and 
 joyous. The authorities welcomed him home, with 
 congratulatory addresses, and the chief men of the place 
 waited upon him at his dwelling, eager to testify their 
 gratitude for his services, their admiration of his talent 
 and virtues , and the pride with which they recognised 
 him as a native of Rhode Island. 
 
 On the close of the war, the three southern states 
 that had been the most essentially benefited by his 
 wisdom and valour, manifested at once their sense of 
 justice, and their gratitude to General Greene, by liberal 
 donations. South Carolina presented him with an es 
 tate, valued at ten thousand pounds sterling; Georgia, 
 with an estate, a few miles from the city of Savannah, 
 worth five, thousand pounds; and North Carolina, with 
 twenty-five thousand acres of land in the state of Ten 
 nessee. 
 
 Having spent about two years in his native state, in 
 the adjustment of his private affairs, he sailed for Geor 
 gia, in October 1785, and settled with his family, on his 
 estate near Savannah. Engaged here in agricultural 
 pursuits, he employed himself closely in arrangements 
 for planting, exhibiting the fairest promise to become as 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 123 
 
 eminent in the practice of the peaceful virtues, as he had 
 already shown himself in the occupations of war. 
 
 But it was the will of Heaven, that in this new sphere 
 of action, his course should he limited. The short pe 
 riod of seven months, was destined to witness its com 
 mencement and its close. 
 
 Walking over his grounds, as was his custom, without 
 his hat, on the afternoon of the 15th of June, 1786, the 
 day being intensely hot, he was suddenly attacked with 
 such a vertigo and prostration of strenght as to be una 
 ble to return to his house without assistance. The af 
 fection was what was denominated a " stroke of the 
 sun." It was succeeded by fever, accompanied with 
 stupor, delirium, and a disordered stomach. All efforts 
 to subdue it proved fruitless, it terminated fatally on the 
 19th of the month. 
 
 Intelligence of the event being conveyed to Savannah, 
 but one feeling pervaded the place. Sorrow was uni 
 versal; and the whole town instinctively assumed the 
 aspect of mourning. All business was suspended, the 
 dwelling-houses, stores, and shops were closed, and the 
 shipping in the harbour halfmasted their colours. 
 
 On the following day, the body of the deceased being 
 conveyed to the town, at the request of the inhabitants, 
 was interred in a private cemetery with milatary hon 
 ours, the magistrates of the place, and other public 
 officers, the society of the Cincinnati, and the citizens 
 generally, joined in the procession.* 
 
 On the 12th of August, of the year in which the gen 
 eral died, the Congress of the United States unanimous 
 ly resolved 4 That a monument be erected to the 
 memory of the Honourable Nathaniel Greene, at the 
 seat of the Federal Government, with the following in 
 scription. 
 
 SACRED 
 
 to the memory of the 
 HON. NATHANIEL GREENE, 
 
 who departed this life 
 the 19th of June, MDCCLXXXVI, 
 
 ^General Greene left behind him a wife and five children. 
 
124 NATHANIEL GREENL, 
 
 late Major General in the 
 
 service of the U. S. and 
 
 Commander of the Army in 
 
 the southern department. 
 
 The United States, in Congress 
 
 assembled, in honour of his 
 
 PATRIOTISM, VALOUR, & ABILITY, 
 
 have erected this 
 
 MONUMENT. 
 
 To the disgrace of the nation, no monument has 
 been erected ; nor. for the want of a headstone, can any 
 one at present designate the spot, where the relics of the 
 Hero of the South lie interred. 
 
 In estimating the military character of Gen. Greene, 
 facts authorized the inference, that he possessed a gen 
 ius adapted by nature to military command. After 
 resorting to arms, his attainment to rank was much more 
 rapid, than that of any other officer our country has pro 
 duced; perhaps the most rapid that history records. 
 These offices, so high in responsibility and honour, were 
 conferred on him, not as matters of personal favour, or 
 family influence, nor yet through the instrumentality of 
 political intrigue. They were rewards of pre-eminent 
 merit, and tokens of recognised fitness for the highest 
 functions of military service. 
 
 It is said, that, on his very first appearance in the 
 camp at Cambridge, from the ardour of his zeal, unre- 
 mitted activity, arid strict attention to every duty, he 
 was pronounced by soldiers of distinction,* a man of 
 real military genius. 
 
 " His knowledge" (said General Knox to a distin 
 guished citizen of South Carolina,) "is intuitive. He 
 came to us the rawest, and most untutored being I ever 
 met with; but in less than twelve months, he was equal 
 in military knowledge to any general officer in the army, 
 and very superior to most of them." Even the enemy 
 he conquered, did homage to his pre-eminent talents for 
 war. Tarlton, who had strong ground to know him, is 
 reported to have pronounced him, on a public occasion, 
 
 *Col. Pickering and others.. 
 
NATHAN HALE. 125 
 
 the most able and accomplished commander that Amer 
 ica had produced. 
 
 When acting under the order of others, he never failed 
 to discharge, to their satisfaction, the duties intrusted to 
 him, however arduous. But it is the southern depart 
 ment of the union, that constitutes the theatre of his 
 achievements and fame. It was there, where his views 
 were unshackled, and his genius free, that by performing 
 the part of a great captain, he erected for himself a mon 
 ument of reputation, durable as history, lofty as victory 
 and conquest could render it, and brightened by all that 
 glory could bestow. 
 
 In compliment to his brilliant successes, the chivalric 
 De la Ltizerne,the minister of France, who as a Knight 
 of Malta, must be considered as a competent judge of 
 military merit, thus speaks of him: "Other generals 
 subdue their enemies by the means with which their 
 country, or their sovereign furnished them, but Greene 
 appears to subdue his enemy by his own means. He 
 commenced his campaign, without either an army, pro 
 visions, or military stores. He has asked for nothing 
 since; and yet, scarcely a post arrives from the south, 
 that does not bring intelligence of some new advantage 
 gained over his foe. He conquers by magic. History 
 furnishes no parallel to this." 
 
 NATHAN HALE, 
 
 Captain in the American Army. 
 
 AFTER the unfortunate engagement of Long Island, 
 General Washington called a council of war, who de 
 termined on an immediate retreat to New York. The 
 intention was prudently concealed from the army, who 
 knew not whither they were going, but imagined it was 
 to attack the enemy. The field artillery, tents, baggage, 
 and about 9,000 men, were conveyed to the city of New 
 York, over the East River, more than a mile wide, in 
 less than thirteen hours, and without the knowledge of 
 the British, though not six hundred yards distance. 
 Providence in a remarkable manner favoured the re 
 treating army. The wind, which seemed to prevent the 
 
126 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 troops getting over at the appointed hour, afterward 
 shifted to their wishes. 
 
 Perhaps the fate of America was never suspended by 
 a more brittle thread than previuosly to this memorable 
 retreat. A spectacle is here presented of an army, 
 destined for the defence of a great continent, driven to 
 the narrow borders of an island, with a victorious army 
 double its number in front, with navigable waters in its 
 rear; constantly liable to have its communication cut off 
 by the enemy s navy, and every moment exposed to an 
 attack. The presence of mind which animated the 
 Commander-in-chief in this critical situation, the pru 
 dence with which all the necessery measures were ex 
 ecuted, redounded as much or more to his honour than 
 the most brilliant victories. An army, to which Amer 
 ica looked for safety, preserved, a general, who was 
 considered as an host himself, saved for the future ne 
 cessities of his country. Had not, however, the circnim 
 stances of the night, of the wind and weather, been fa 
 vourable, the, plan, however well concerted, must have 
 been defeated. To a good Providence, therefore, are 
 the people of America indebted for the complete suc 
 cess of an enterprise so important in its consequences. 
 
 This retreat left the British in complete possession of 
 Long Island. What would be their future operations 
 remained uncertain. To obtain information of their 
 situation, their strength, and future movements, was of 
 high importance. For this purpose General Washing 
 ton applied to Colonel Knowlton, who commanded a 
 regiment of light infantry, which formed the rear of the 
 American army, and desired him to adopt some mode of 
 gaining the necessary information. Colonel Knowlton 
 communicated this request to CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, of 
 Connecticut, who was a captain in his regiment. 
 
 This young officer, animated by a sense of duty, and 
 considering that an opportunity presented itself by which 
 he might be useful to his country, at once offered him 
 self a volunteer for this hazardous service. . He passed 
 in disguise to Long Island, and examined every part of 
 the British army, and obtained the best posssible infor 
 mation respecting their situation and future operations, 
 
NATHAN HALE. 127 
 
 In his attempt to return he was apprehended, carried 
 before Sir William Howe, and the proof of his object 
 was so clear, that he frankly acknowledged who he was, 
 and what were his views. Sir William Howe at once 
 gave an order to have him executed the next morning. 
 
 This order was accordingly executed in a most un 
 feeling manner, and by as great a savage as ever disgra 
 ced humanity. A clergyman, whose attendance he de 
 sired, was refused him; a Bible for a few moments 
 devotion, was not procured, although he wished it. 
 Letters, which on the morning of his execution, he 
 wrote to his mother and olher friends, were destroyed; 
 and this very extraordinary reason given by the provost 
 martial, " THAT THE REBELS SHOULD NOT KNOW THEY HAD A 
 
 MAN IN THEIR ARMY WHO COULD DIE WITH SO MUCH FIRMNESS." 
 
 Unknown to all around him, without a single friend to 
 offer him the least consolation, thus fell as amiable and 
 as worthy a young man as America could boast, with 
 this, as his dying observation: that " HE ONLY LAMENTED 
 
 THAT HE HAD BUT ONE LIFE TO LOSE FOR HIS COUNTRY." 
 
 Although the manner of this execution will ever be 
 abhorred by every friend to humanity and religion, yet 
 there cannot be a question but that the sentence was 
 conformable to the rules of war, and the practice of 
 nations in similar cases. 
 
 It is, however, but justice to the character of Captain 
 Hale to observe, that his motives for engaging in this 
 service were entirely different from those which gener 
 ally influence others in similar circumstances. Neither 
 expectation of promotion, nor pecuniary reward, indu 
 ced him to this attempt. A sense of duty, a hope that 
 he might in this way be useful to his country, and an 
 opinion which he had adopted, that every kind of ser 
 vice necessary to the general good became honourable 
 by being necessary, were the great motives, which in 
 duced him to engage in an enterprise by which his con 
 nexions lost a most amiable friend, and his country one 
 of its most promising supporters. 
 
 The fate of this most unfortunate young man, excites 
 the most interesting reflections. To see such a character, 
 m the flower of youth, cheerfully treading in the most 
 
128 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 hazardous paths, influenced by the purest intentions, 
 and only emulous lo do good to his country, without the 
 imputation of a crime, fall a victim to policy, must have 
 been wounding to the feelings even of his enemies. 
 
 Should a comparison be drawn between Major Andre 
 and Captain Hale, injustice would be done to the latter, 
 should he not be placed on an equal ground with the 
 former. While almost every historian of the American 
 revolution has celebrated the virtues and lamented the 
 fate of Andre, Hale has remained unnoticed, and it is 
 scarcely known such a character existed. 
 
 To the memory of Andre his country has erected the 
 most magnificent monuments, and bestowed on his fam 
 ily the highest honours and most liberal rewards. To 
 the memory of Hale, not a stone has been erected, 
 an inscription to preserve his ashes from insult! 
 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
 
 Inspector-General in the American Army. 
 
 COLONEL HAMILTON was a native of the Island of St. 
 Croix, and was born in the year 1757. His father was 
 the younger son of an English family, and his mother 
 was an American lady of respectable connexions. At 
 the age of sixteen he accompanied his mother to New 
 York, and entered a student of Columbia College, in 
 which he continued about three years. While a mem 
 ber of this institution, the first buddings of his intellect 
 gave presages of his future eminence. 
 
 The contest with Great Britain called forth the first 
 talents on each side, and his juvenile pen asserted the 
 violated rights of the American colonies against the 
 most respectable writers. His papers exhibited such 
 evidence of intellect and wisdom, that they were ascri 
 bed to Mr. Jay; and when the truth was discovered, 
 America saw, with astonishment, a lad of seventeen, in 
 the list of her able advocates. 
 
 The first sound of war awakened his martial spirit, 
 and, at the age of eighteen he entered the American 
 army as captain, in the corps of artillery. Soon after 
 war was transferred to the Hudson, in 1777, his 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 129 
 
 superior endowments recommended him to the attention 
 of the commander-in-chief, into whose family, before 
 completing his twenty-first year, he was invited to enter, 
 as an aid, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. Equally 
 brave and intelligent, he continued in this situation to 
 display a degree of firmness and capacity which com 
 manded the confidence and esteem of the principal offi 
 cers in the army. 
 
 His sound understanding, comprehensive views, ap 
 plication and promptitude, soon gained him the entire 
 confidence of General Washington. In such a school, 
 it was impossible but that his genius should be nour 
 ished. By intercourse with his general, by surveying 
 his plans, observing his consummate prudence, and by a 
 minute inspection of the springs of national operations, 
 he became fitted for command. 
 
 Throughout ihe campaign, which tenninated in the 
 capture of Lord Cornwallis, Col. Hamilton commanded 
 a battalion of light infantry. At the siege of York, in 
 1781, when the second parallel was opened, two re 
 doubts, which flanked it, and were advanced three 
 hundred yards in front of the British works, very much 
 annoyed the men in the trenches: it was resolved to 
 possess them; and to prevent jealousies, the attack of 
 the one was committed to the French, and of the other 
 to the Americans. The detachment of the Americans 
 was commanded by the Marquis de la Fayette ; and 
 Colonel Hamilton, at his own earnest request, led the 
 advanced corps, consisting of two battalions. Towards 
 the close of the day, on the fourteenth of October, the 
 troops rushed to the charge without firing a single gun; 
 and so great was their ardour that they did not give the 
 sappers time to remove the abattis and palisades. 
 Passing over them, they assailed the works with irre 
 sistible impetuosity on all sides at once, and entered 
 them with such rapidity that their loss was inconsidera 
 ble. The irritation produced by the recent carnage at 
 Fort Griswold, had not so far subdued the humanity of 
 the American character as to induce retaliation. Not 
 a man was killed except in action. "Incapable," said 
 Colonel Hamilton, in his report. " of imitating examples 
 
 R 
 
130 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 of barbarity, and forgetting recent provocation, the sol 
 diery spared every man, that ceased to resist." 
 
 Soon after the capture of Cornvvallis, Hamilton 
 sheathed his sword, and being encumbered with a fam 
 ily, and destitute of funds, at the age of twenty-five, 
 applied to the study of the law. In this profession he 
 soon rose to distinction. But the critical circumstances 
 of the existing government, induced him to accept a seat 
 in the Congress of the United States. In ail the im 
 portant acts of the day, he performed a conspicuous 
 part, and was greatly distinguished among those distin 
 guished characters whom the crisis had attracted to 
 the councils of the country. Being a member of Con 
 gress, while the question of the commutation of the half 
 pay of the army for a sum in gross, was in debate, deli 
 cacy, and a desire to be useful to the army, by removing 
 the idea of his having an interest in the question, indu 
 ced him to write to the secretary of war, and relinquish 
 his claim to half pay, which, or the equivalent, he never 
 received. 
 
 We have now arrived at an interesting and important 
 period in the life of Hamilton. After witnessing the de 
 bility of the old confederation, and its inefficiency to 
 accomplish the objects proposed by its articles, viz. 
 "common defence, security of liberty, and general wel 
 fare," a convention of the states was agreed upon, for 
 the purpose of forming an efficient federal government. 
 In this convention was collected the sound wisdom of the 
 country the patriots and sages, who, by their valour 
 and their prudence, had carried her triumphantly 
 through the stormy period of the revolution, and had 
 given her a name among the nations of the earth. To 
 this convention Hamilton was appointed a delegate from 
 the state of New York. It convened at the state house 
 in Philadelphia, May, 2, 1 }, 1787. A unanimous vote 
 placed General Washington in the chair. 
 
 "It was soon found, says Mr. Martin, one of the del 
 egates from Maryland," there were among us three par 
 ties, of very different sentiments and views. One party, 
 whose object and wish it was to abolish and annihilate 
 all state governments, and to bring forward one general 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 131 
 
 government over this extensive continent, of a monar- 
 chial nature, under certain restrictions and limitations: 
 Those who openly avowed this sentiment were, it is 
 true, but few, yet it is equally true, sir, that there was a 
 considerable number who did not openly avow it, who 
 were, by myself, and many others of the convention, 
 considered as being in reality favourers of that senti 
 ment, and acting upon those principles, covertly endeav 
 ouring to carry into effect what they well knew openly 
 and avowedly could not be accomplished. 
 
 44 The second party was not for the abolition of the 
 state governments, nor for the introduction of a monar 
 chical government under any form: but they wished to 
 establish such a system as could give their own states 
 undue power and influence in the government over the 
 other states. 
 
 4i A third party was what I considered truly federal 
 and republican; this party was nearly equal in number 
 with the other two, and were composed of the delega 
 tions from Connecticut, New York, New-Jeisey, Dela 
 ware, and in part from Maryland; also of some individ 
 uals from other representations." 
 
 During the heat of party animosity, much was said 
 and written of the monarchical views of Hamilton, and 
 of his attempts, in the convention which formed our 
 constitution, to carry those views into effect. How far 
 the sentiments imputed to him are correct, the following 
 paper, read by him, as containing his ideas of a suita 
 ble plan of government for the United States will show: 
 
 "1. The supreme legislative power of the United States 
 of America to be vested in two distinct bodies of men, 
 the one to be called the assembly, the other the senate, 
 who, together, shall form the legislature of the United 
 States, with power to pass all laws whatsoever, subject 
 to the negative hereafter mentioned. 
 
 "2. The assembly to consist of persons elected by the 
 people, to serve for three years. 
 
 " 3. The senate to consist of persons elected to serve 
 during good behaviour; their election to be made by 
 electors chosen for that purpose by the people. In or 
 der to this, the states to be divided into election districts. 
 
132 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 On the death, removal, or resignation of any senator, 
 his place to be filled out of the district from which he 
 came. 
 
 "4. The supreme executive authority of the United 
 States to be vested in a governor, to be elected to serve 
 during good behaviour. His election to be made by 
 electors, chosen by electors, chosen by the people, in 
 the election districts aforesaid. His authorities and 
 functions to be as follows: 
 
 " To have a negative on all laws about to be passed, 
 and the execution of all laws passed; to have the entire 
 direction of war, when authorized, or begun; to have, 
 with the advice and approbation of the senate, the 
 power of making all treaties; to have the sole appoint 
 ment of the heads of chief officers of the departments 
 of finance, war, and foreign affairs; to have the nomina 
 tion of all other officers, (ambassadors to foreign nations 
 included) subject to the approbation or rejection of the 
 senate ; to have the power of pardoning all offences, ex 
 cept treason, which he shall not pardon, without the 
 approbation of the senate. 
 
 " /). On the death, resignation, or removal of the gov 
 ernor, his authorities to be exercised by the president of 
 the senate until a successor be appointed. 
 
 " 6. The senate to have the sole power of declaring 
 war; the power of advising and approving all treaties; 
 the power of approving or rejecting all appointments of 
 officers, except the heads or chiefs of the departments 
 of finance, war, and foreign affairs. 
 
 4i 7. The supreme judicial authority of the United 
 Slates to be vested in judges, to hold their offices 
 during good behaviour, with adequate and permanent 
 salaries. This court to have original jurisdiction in all 
 cases of capture; and an appellative jurisdiction in all 
 causes, in which the revenues of the general govern 
 ment, or the citizens of foreign nations, are concerned. 
 
 "8. The legislature of the United States to have pow 
 er to institute courts in each state, for the determination 
 of all matters of general concern. 
 
 "9. The governors, senators, and all officers of the 
 United States, to be liable to impeachment, for mal and 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 133 
 
 corrupt conduct; and, upon conviction, to be removed 
 from office, and disqualified for holding any place of 
 trust, or profit. All impeachments to be tried by a court 
 to consist of the chief, or senior judge of the superior 
 court of law in each state; provided, that such judge 
 hold his place during good behaviour, and have a per 
 manent salary. 
 
 "10. All laws of the particular states, contrary to the 
 constitution or laws of the United States, to be utterly 
 void. And the better to prevent such laws being pass 
 ed, the governor or president of each state shall be ap 
 pointed by the general government, and shall have a 
 negative upon the laws about to be passed in the state 
 of which he is governor, or president. 
 
 "11. No state to have any forces, land or naval; and 
 the militia of all the states to be under the sole and ex 
 clusive direction of the United States; the officers of 
 which to be appointed and commissioned by them." 
 
 Such being the views of Hamilton, the constitution, 
 framed by the convention, did not completely meet his 
 wishes. He was afraid it did not contain sufficient 
 means of strength for its own preservation, and that in 
 consequence we should share the fate of many other 
 republics, and pass through anarchy to despotism, 
 He was in favour of a more permanent executive and 
 senate. He wished for a strong government, which 
 would not be shaken by the conflict of different inter 
 ests through an extensive territory, and which should 
 be adequate to all the forms of national exigency. He 
 was apprehensive, that the increased wealth and popu 
 lation of the states would lead to encroachments on the 
 union. These were his views and feelings, and he free 
 ly and honestly expressed them. 
 
 A respectable member of the convention once remark 
 ed, that if the constitution did not succeed, on trial, Mr. 
 Hamilton was less responsible for that result than any 
 other member, for he fully and frankly pointed out to 
 the convention what he apprehended were the infirmi 
 ties to which it was liable. And that if it answered 
 the fond expectations of the public, the community 
 would be more indebted to Mr. Hamilton than to anv 
 
134 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 other member ; for after its essential outlines were agreed 
 to, he laboured most indefatigably to heal those infirmi 
 ties, and to guard against the evils to which they might 
 expose it. 
 
 The patriotism of Hamilton was not of that kind 
 which yields every thing, because it cannot accomplish 
 all that it desires. Believing the constitution incompar 
 ably superior to the old confederation, he exerted all his 
 talents in its support. 
 
 After the publication of the constitution, Hamilton, 
 in concert with Mr. Jay, and Mr. Madison, commenced 
 the "Federalist," a series of essays, addressed to the 
 people of the state of New York, in favour of the adop 
 tion of the constitution. These papers first made their 
 appearance in the daily prints, early in November, 1787, 
 and the work was not concluded until a short time pre 
 vious to the meeting of the state convention, in June, 
 1788. It was well understood that Mr. Hamilton was 
 the principal author, and wrote at least three-fourths of 
 the numbers. This work is not to be classed among the 
 ephemeral productions, which are calculated to produce 
 a party purpose, and when that purpose is answered, to 
 expire for ever. It is a profound and learned disquisi 
 tion on the principles of a federal representative gov 
 ernment, and combines an ardent attachment to public 
 liberty. This work will no doubt endure as long as any 
 of the republican institutions of this country, on which it 
 is so luminous and elegant a commentary. 
 
 His voice co-operated with his pen. In the conven 
 tion of the state, which met to deliberate on the federal 
 constitution, he was returned a member, and was always 
 heard with awe, perhaps, with conviction; though not 
 always with success. But when the crisis arrived; 
 when a vote was to determine whether New York should 
 retain or relinquish her place in the union; and prece 
 ding occurrences made it probable that she would choose 
 the worst part of the alternative, Hamilton arose in re 
 doubled strength. He argued, he remonstrated, he en 
 treated, he warned, he painted, till apathy itself was 
 moved, and the most relentless of human things, a pre 
 concerted majority, was staggered and broken. Truth 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 135 
 
 was again victorious, and New York enrolled herself 
 under the standard of the federal constitution. 
 
 The constitution having gone into operation, and the 
 executive departments being established, Mr. Hamilton 
 was appointed, in the summer of 1789, to the office of 
 secretary of the treasury. The task of recruiting public 
 credit, of drawing order and arrangement from the 
 chaotic confusion in which the finances of America 
 were involved, and of devising means which should ren 
 der the revenue productive, and commensurate with the 
 demand, in a manner least burdensome to the people, 
 was justly classed among the most arduous of the duties 
 which devolved on the new government. 
 
 This office he held between five and six years; and 
 when we look back to the measures that within that pe 
 riod he originated, matured, and vindicated, we are as 
 tonished in the contemplation of the various powers 
 of his ingenious and exalted mind. Mr. Hamilton is 
 justly considered the Founder of the Public Credit of 
 this country. 
 
 The manner in which the several states entered into 
 and conducted the war of the revolution will be recol 
 lected. Acting in some respect separately, and in oth 
 ers conjointly, for the attainment of a common object, 
 their resources were exerted, sometimes under the au 
 thority of Congress, sometimes under the authority of 
 the local governments, to repel the enemy wherever he 
 came. The debt incurred in support of the war was 
 therefore, in the first instance, contracted partly by the 
 continent, and partly by the states. When the system 
 of requisition was adopted, the transactions of the union 
 were carried on, in a great degree, through the agency 
 of the states, and when the measure of compensating 
 the army, for the depreciation of their pay, became ne 
 cessary, this burden, under the recommendation of Con 
 gress, was assumed by the respective states. In their 
 exertions to meet the calls of Congress, some degree of 
 inequalitv had obtained, and they looked anxiously to a 
 settlement of accounts between them. 
 
 To assume these debts, and to fund them in common 
 with that which continued to be the proper debt of the 
 
136 ALEXANDER HAMILTON* 
 
 union, was proposed by Mr. Hamilton, in his first report 
 to Congress, as secretary of the treasury. 
 
 This celebrated report, which has been alike the 
 fruitful theme of extravagant praise and bitter censure, 
 was rigorously opposed in Congress. It was agreed by 
 all, that the foreign debt should be provided for in the 
 manner proposed by the Secretary, but with respect to 
 the domestic debt, the same unanimity was far from 
 prevailing. It was contended that the general govern 
 ment would acquire an undue influence, and that the 
 state governments would be annihilated by the measure. 
 Not only would all the influence of the public creditors, 
 be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would ab 
 sorb all the powers of taxation, and leave the latter 
 oniy the shadow of a government. This would proba 
 bly terminate in rendering the state governments useless, 
 and would destroy the system so recently established. 
 
 The constitutional authority of the federal govern 
 ment to assume these debts was questioned. 
 
 On the ground of policy it was objected, that the as 
 sumption would impose on the United States a burden, 
 the weight of which was unascertained, and which 
 would require an extension of taxation beyond the lim 
 its which prudence would prescribe. That the debt, by 
 being thus accumulated, would be perpetuated, and the 
 Secretary was charged with the doctrine, "that a public 
 debt was a public blessing." 
 
 The measure was said to be unwise too, as it would 
 affect the public credit. Such an augmentation of the 
 debt must inevitably depreciate its value; since it was 
 the character of paper, whatever denomination it might 
 assume, to diminish in value in proportion to the quan 
 tity in circulation. 
 
 In support of the assumption, the debts of the states 
 were traced to their origin. America, it was said, had 
 engaged in a war, the object of which was equally in 
 teresting to every part of the union. It was not the war 
 of a particular state, but of the United States. It was 
 not the liberty and independence of a part, but of the 
 whole, for which they had contended, and which they 
 had acquired. The cause was a common cause. As 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 1*37 
 
 brethren, the American people had consented to hazard 
 property and life in its defence. All the sums expended 
 in this great object, whatever might be the authority 
 under which they were raised or appropriated, condu 
 ced to the same end. Troops were raised and military 
 stores were purchased, before Congress assumed the 
 command of the army, or control of the war. The am 
 munition which repulsed the enemy at Bunker s Hill, 
 was purchased by Massachusetts, and formed a part of 
 the debt of that state. 
 
 The great moving principle which governed Hamilton 
 in his department was good faith. "Public credit," said 
 he, "could only be maintained by good faith, by a punc 
 tual performance of contracts;" and, good faith was 
 recommended not only by the strongest inducements of 
 political expediency, but was enforced by considerations 
 of still higher authority. There are arguments for it 
 which rest on the immutable principles of moral obliga 
 tion. And in proportion as the mind is disposed to con 
 template in the order of Providence, an intimate con 
 nexion between public virtue and public happiness, will 
 be its repugnancy to a violation of those principles. 
 
 "This reflection," he said, "derived additional strength 
 from the nature of the debt of the United States. It 
 was the price of liberty. The faith of America had been 
 repeatedly pledged for it, and with solemnities that gave 
 peculiar force to the obligation." 
 
 His report, though strenuously opposed, was finally 
 adopted, and under his administration, the finances ad 
 vanced to a state of prosperity beyond all expectations, 
 and so as to engage the attention, and command the 
 confidence of Europe. The effect was electrical. Com 
 merce revived, the ploughshare glittered; property re 
 covered its value; credit was established; revenue 
 created; the treasury filled. 
 
 The insinuation that has often been inculcated, that 
 Hamilton patronized the doctrine, that a public debt 
 was a public blessing, is without the shadow of a foun 
 dation. He inculcates with great solicitude in his re 
 ports, that "the progressive accumulation of debts was 
 the natural disease of governments; that it ought to be 
 
 S 
 
138 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 guarded against with provident foresight and inflexihle 
 perseverance; that it ought to be a fundamental maxim 
 in the system of public credit, that the creation of public 
 debt should always be accompanied with the means of ex- 
 tinguishment" 
 
 The beneficial effects of the measures recommended 
 by Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury; and which 
 are known and felt constantly, have at last accomplish 
 ed what argument alone could not do they forced a 
 universal conviction on the public mind; and all the 
 dread spectres which were conjured up at the time to 
 terrify the imagination, and blind the judgment, have 
 long since disappeared before the light of experience. 
 He has left to his successor little more to do than to 
 follow his precepts, and to shine by the lustre of his ex 
 ample. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton, in his character of secretary of the 
 treasury, was also one of the constitutional advisers of 
 the president, in relation generally to the duties of his 
 office. 
 
 In January, 1795. Hamilton resigned the office of sec 
 retary of the treasury, and once more returned to pri 
 vate life. In the rage and rancour of party, at the time, 
 no wonder that the tongue of slander followed him. So 
 fair was the opportunity of acquiring a princely fortune 
 which was presented to him, and the disposition to profit 
 by it, so little at variance with the common estimate of 
 honourable gain, that few supposed it possible to resist 
 the temptation. The fact being presumed, every petly 
 politician erected himself into a critic; while the ga 
 zettes, the streets, the polls of election, resounded with 
 the millions amassed by the Secretary. It is natural 
 that the idolaters of gold should treat the contempt of it 
 as a chimera. But gold was not the idol of HAMILTON. 
 Exquisitely delicate toward official character, he touch 
 ed none of the advantages which he put within the reach 
 of others; he vested not a dollar in the public funds. 
 He entered into the public service with property of his 
 own, the well-earned reward of professional talent; he 
 continued in it till his funds were gone; and left it. to get 
 bread for a suffering family. It was surely enough that 
 
AEEXANDFR HAMILTON. 139 
 
 he had impoverished himself while he was enriching the 
 commonwealth; but it was beyond measure insulting to 
 charge him, under such circumstances, with invading the 
 public purse. 
 
 The last great occasion which called Hamilton upon, 
 the theatre of public action, existed in the spring of the 
 year 1789. It will be recollected that France had been 
 long making piratical depredations upon our commerce; 
 that our ministers had been treated with the grossest 
 indignity, and money demanded of the United States on 
 terms the most degrading. Open and determined war 
 was the consequence. 
 
 Washington was appointed Lieutenant-Genera] and 
 Commander-in-chief. The following letter from him to 
 President Adams, on the subject of appointing Hamil 
 ton to the second in command, shows his high standing 
 in the opinion of the illustrious Washington. 
 
 " Mouni-Vernon, Sept. 25, 178. 
 
 " It is an invidious task, at all times, to draw compar 
 isons, and I shall avoid it as much as possible; but I 
 have no hesitation in declaring, that if the public is to 
 be deprived of the services of Col. Hamilton in the mil 
 itary line, the post he was destined to fill will not easily 
 be supplied and that this is the sentiment of the public, 
 I think I may venture to pronounce. Although Colonel 
 Hamilton has never acted in the character of a general 
 officer, yet his opportunities, as the principal and most 
 confidential aid of the Commander in Chief, afforded him 
 the means of viewing every thing on a larger scale than 
 those who had only divisions and brigades to attend to; 
 who knew nothing of the correspondences of the Com 
 mander in Chief, or of the various orders to, or trans 
 actions with, the general staff of the army. These ad 
 vantages, and his having served with usefulness in the 
 old Congress, in the general convention, and having 
 filled one of the most important departments of gov 
 ernment with acknowledged abilities and integrity, have 
 placed him on high ground ; and made him a conspicuous 
 character in the United States, and even in Europe. To 
 these, as a matter of no small consideration, may be 
 
140 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 added, that as a lucrative practice in the line of his 
 profession is his most certain dependence, the induce 
 ment to relinquish it must in some degree be commen 
 surate. By some he is considered as an ambitious man, 
 and therefore a dangerous one. That he is ambitious I 
 shall readily grant, but it is of that laudable kind, which 
 prompts a man to excel in whatever he takes in hand. 
 
 * k He is enterprising, quick in his perceptions and his 
 judgment intuitively great: qualities essential to a great 
 military character; and therefore I repeat, that his loss 
 will be irreparable" 
 
 "GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
 Hamilton was accordingly appointed Inspector Gen 
 eral, agreeable to the wishes of Washington. On the 
 death of that great man. he succeeded to the office of 
 Commander in Chief, and continued in that character, 
 until the army was disbanded in the summer of 1800, 
 when he returned again to his profession in the city of 
 New York. In this place he passed the remainder of 
 his days. 
 
 In June, 1804, Colonel Burr, Vice-president of the 
 United States, addressed a letter to general Hamilton, 
 requiring his acknowledgment or denial of the use of 
 any expression derogatory to the honour of the former. 
 Perhaps the most satisfactory manner of introducing the 
 reader to this subject, will be to begin with the corres : 
 pondence which led to the fatal interview. It is as 
 follows: 
 
 New York, June, 18, 1804] 
 
 Sir I send for your perusal a letter signed Charles 
 D. Cooper, which, though apparently published some 
 time ago, has but very recently come to my knowledge. 
 Mr. Van Ness, who does me the favour to deliver this, 
 will point out to you that clause of the letter to which I 
 particularly request your attention. 
 
 You must perceive, Sir, the necessity of a prompt and 
 unqualified acknowledgment or denial of the use of any 
 expression which would warrant the assertions of Dr. 
 Cooper. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON . 141 
 
 I have the honour to be 
 
 Your obedient serv t, 
 
 A. BURR, 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 New York, June 20, 1804. 
 
 Sir I have maturely reflected on the subject of 
 your letter of the 18th inst. and the more I have re 
 flected the more I have become convinced, that I could 
 not, without manifest impropriety, make the avowal or 
 disavowal which you seem to think necessary. The 
 clause pointed out by Mr. Van Ness is in these terms: 
 " 1 could detail to you a still more despicable opinion 
 which General Hamilton had expressed of Mr. Burr." 
 To endeavour to discover the meaning of this declara 
 tion, I was obliged to seek, in the antecedent part of 
 this letter, for the opinion to which it referred, as having 
 been already disclosed. I found it in these words: 
 "General Hamilton and Judge Kent have declared, in 
 substance, that they looked upon Mr. Burr to be a dan 
 gerous man, and one who ought not to be trusted with 
 the reins of government." 
 
 The language of Dr. Cooper plainly implies, that he 
 considered this opinion of you, which he attributes to 
 me, as a despicable one; but he affirms that I have ex 
 pressed some other, more despicable, without, however, 
 mentioning to whom, when or where. Tis evident that 
 the phrase, "still more despicable," admits of infinite 
 shades, from very light to very dark. How am I to 
 judge of the degree intended? or how shall I annex any 
 precise idea to language so indefinite? 
 
 Between gentlemen, despicable and more despicable are 
 not worth the pains of distinction; when, therefore, you 
 do not interrogate me, as to the opinion which is spe 
 cifically ascribed to me, 1 must conclude, that you view 
 it as within the limits to which the animadversions of 
 political opponents upon each other may justifiably ex 
 tend, and consequently as not warranting the idea of it 
 which Dr. Cooper appears to entertain. If so, what 
 precise inference could you draw, as a guide for your 
 conduct, were I to acknowledge that I had expressed 
 
142 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 an opinion of yon still more despicable than the one which 
 is particularized? How could you be sure that even this 
 opinion had exceeded the bounds which you would 
 yourself deem admissible between political opponents? 
 
 But I forbear further comment on the embarrassment, 
 to which the requisition you have made naturally leads. 
 The orcasion forbids a more ample illustration, though 
 nothing could be more easy than to pursue it. 
 
 Repeating that I cannot reconcile it with propriety to 
 make the acknowledgment or denial you desire, I will 
 add that I deem it inadmissible on principle, to consent 
 to be interrogated as to the justness of the inferences 
 which may be drawn by others from whatever I may 
 have said of a political opponent, in the course of fifteen 
 years competition. If there were no other objection to 
 it, this is sufficient, that it would tend to expose my sin 
 cerity and delicacy to injurious imputations from every 
 person who may at any time have conceived the import 
 of my expressions, differently from what I may then 
 have intended or may afterward recollect. I stand 
 ready to vow or disavow promptly and explicitly any 
 precise and definite opinion which I may be charged 
 with having declared of any gentleman. More than this 
 cannot be fitly expected from me; and especially it can 
 not be reasonably expected that I shall enter into an 
 explanation upon a basis so vague as that which you 
 have adopted. I trust, on more reflection, you will see 
 the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only 
 regret the circumstances, and must abide the conse 
 quences. 
 
 The publication of Dr. Cooper was never seen by me 
 till after the receipt of your letter. 
 
 I have the honour to be,&c. 
 
 A. HAMILTON. 
 Col. Burr. 
 
 New York^June 21s/, 1804. 
 
 Sir Your letter of the 20th instant has been this day 
 received. Having considered it attentively, I regret to 
 find in it nothing of that sincerity and delicacy which you 
 profess to value. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 143 
 
 Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from 
 the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honour, 
 and the rules of decorum. I neither claim such privi 
 lege nor indulge it in others. 
 
 The common sense of mankind affixes to the epithet 
 adopted by Dr. Cooper, the idea of dishonour. It has 
 been publicly applied to me under the sanction of your 
 name. The question is not, whether he has understood 
 the meaning of the word, or has used it according to 
 syntax, and with grammatical accuracy; but, whether 
 you have authorized this application, either directly or 
 by uttering expressions or opinions derogatory to my 
 honour. The time "when" is in your own knowledge, 
 but no way material to me, as the calumny has now 
 first been disclosed, so as to become the subject of my 
 notice, and as the effect is present and palpable. 
 
 Your letter has furnished me with new reasons for 
 requiring a definite reply. 
 
 I have the honour to be. 
 
 Sir, your obedient, 
 
 A. BURR, 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 On Saturday, the 22d of June, General Hamilton, for 
 the first time, called on Mr. Pendleton, and commuica- 
 ted to him the preceding correspondence. He informed 
 him that in a conversation with Mr. Van Ness, at the 
 time of receiving the last letter, he told Mr. Van Ness 
 that he considered that letter as rude and offensive, and 
 that it was not possible for him to give it any other 
 answer than that Mr. Burr must take such steps as he 
 might think proper. He said further, that Mr. Van Ness 
 requested him to take time to deliberate, and then re 
 turn an answer, when he might possibly entertain a dif 
 ferent opinion, and that he would call on him to receive 
 it. That his reply to Mr. Van Ness was, that he did 
 not perceive it possible for him to give any other answer 
 than that he had mentioned, unless Mr. Burr would take 
 back his last letter and write one which would admit of 
 a different reply. He then gave Mr. Pendleton the 
 letter hereafter mentioned, of the 22d June, to be 
 
144 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 delivered to Mr. Van Ness, when he should call on Mr. 
 Pendleton for an answer, and went to his country house. 
 The next day General Hamilton received, while 
 there, the following letter; 
 
 June 22d, 1804. 
 
 Sir In the afternoon of yesterday, I reported to Col. 
 Burr the result of my last interview with you, and ap 
 pointed the evening to receive his further instructions. 
 Some private engagements, however, prevented me from 
 calling on him till this morning. On my return to the 
 city, I found, upon inquiry, both at your office and house, 
 that you had returned to your residence in the country. 
 Lest an interview there midit be less agreeable to you 
 than elsewhere,! have taken the liberty of addressing you 
 this note to inquire when and where it will be most con 
 venient for you to receive a communication, 
 
 Your most obedient and very humble servant, 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS. 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 Mr. Pendleton understood from General Hamilton 
 that he immediately answered, that if the communica 
 tion was pressing he would receive it at his country 
 house that day; if not, he would be at his house in town 
 the next morning at nine o clock. But he did not give Mr. 
 Pendleton any copy of this note. 
 
 New York, June 22, 1804. 
 
 Sir Your first letter, in a style too peremptory, made 
 a demand, in my opinion, unprecedented and unwarrant 
 able. My answer, pointing out the embarrassment, gave 
 you an opportunity to take a less exceptionable course. 
 You have not chosen to do it; but by your last letter, 
 received this day, containing expressions indecorous and 
 improper, you have increased the difficulties to expla 
 nation intrinsically incident to the nature of your ap 
 plication. 
 
 If by a "definite reply," you mean the direct avowal 
 or disavowal in your first letter, I have no other answer 
 to give, than that which has already been given. If 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 146 
 
 you mean any thing different, admitting of greater lati 
 tude, it is requisite you should explain. 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 Sir, your obedient serv t, 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
 Aaron Burr, Esq. 
 
 This letter, although dated on the 22d June, remain 
 ed in Mr. Pendleton s possession until the 25th, within 
 which period he had several conversations with Mr. 
 Van Ness. In these conversations Mr. Pendleton en 
 deavoured to illustrate and force the propriety of the 
 ground General Hamilton had taken. Mr. Pendleton 
 mentioned to Mr. Van Ness as the result, that if Col. 
 Burr would write a letter, requesting to know in sub 
 stance whether, in the conversation to which Dr. Coo 
 per alluded, any particular instance of dishonourable 
 conduct was imputed to Col. Burr, or whether there was 
 any impeachment of his private character, General 
 Hamilton would declare to the best of his recollection, 
 what passed in that conversation; and Mr. Pendleton 
 read to Mr. Van Ness a paper containing the substance 
 of what General Hamilton would say on that subject, 
 which is as follows: 
 
 "General Hamilton says he cannot imagine to what 
 Doctor Cooper rmiy have alluded, unless it were to a 
 conversation at Mr. Tayler s in Albany, last winter, (at 
 which he and Gen. Hamilton were present.) General 
 Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly the particulars of 
 that conversation so as to undertake to repeat them, 
 without running the risk of varying, or omitting what 
 might be deemed important circumstances. The ex 
 pressions are entirely forgotten, and the specific ideas 
 imperfectly remembered; but to the best of his recol 
 lection it consisted of comments on the political princi 
 ples and views of Colonel Burr, and the result that 
 might be expected from them in the event of his election 
 as governor, without reference to any particular instance 
 of past conduct, or to private character." 
 
146 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 After the delivery of the letter of the 22d, as above 
 mentioned, in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he 
 desired Mr. Pendleton to give him in writing the sub 
 stance of what he had proposed on the part of General 
 Hamilton, which Mr. Pendleton did in the words follow 
 ing: 
 
 "In answer to a letter, properly adapted to obtain 
 from General Hamilton a declaration whether he had 
 charged Col. Burr with any particular instance of dis 
 honorable conduct, or had impeached his private charac 
 ter, either in the conversation alluded to by Dr. Cooper, 
 or in any other particular instance to be specified: he 
 would be able to answer consistently with his honour, 
 and the truth, in substance,that the conversation to which 
 Dr. Cooper alluded, turned wholly on political topics, 
 and did not attribute to Colonel Burr any instance of 
 dishonourable conduct, nor relate to his private charac 
 ter; and in relation to any other language or conversa 
 tion of General Hamilton which Colonel Burr will spe 
 cify, a prompt and frank avowal or denial will be given. " 
 
 On the 26th June, Mr. Pendleton received the follow 
 ing letter: 
 
 Sir The letter which you yesterday delivered me, 
 and your subsequent communication, in Colonel Burr s 
 opinion, evince no disposition, on the part ofGen. Ham- 
 ilton to come to a satisfactory accommodation. The 
 injury complained of, and the reparation expected, are 
 so definitely expressed in Colonel Burr s letter of the 
 21st instant, that there is not perceived a necessity for 
 further explanation on his part. The difficulty that 
 would result from confining the inquiry to any particular 
 times and occasions must be manifest. The denial of 
 a specified conversation only, would leave strong impli 
 cations that on other occasions improper language had 
 been used. When and where injurious opinions have 
 been uttered by General Hamilton, must be best known 
 to him, and of him only will Colonel Burr inquire. JVb 
 denial or declaration will be satisfactory, unless it be general* 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 147 
 
 so as wholly to exclude the idea that rumours derogato 
 ry to Col. Burros honour have originated with General 
 Hamilton, or have been fairly infer red from any thing he 
 has said. A definite reply to a requisition of this nature 
 was demanded by Col. Burr s letter of. the 21st instant. 
 This being refused, invites the alternative alluded to in 
 General Hamilton s letter of the 20th. 
 
 It was required by the position in which the contro 
 versy was placed by General Hamilton, on Friday* last, 
 and I was immediately furnished with a communication 
 demanding a personal interview. The necessity of this 
 measure has not, in the opinion of Colonel Burr, been 
 diminished by the General s last letter, or any commu 
 nication which has since been received, I am conse 
 quently again instructed to deliver you a message, as 
 soon as it may be convenient for you to receive it. I 
 beg, therefore, you will be so good as to inform me at 
 what hour I can have the pleasure of seeing you. 
 Your most obedient and very humble servant, 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS: 
 Nathaniel Pendleton, Esq, 
 
 June 26^. 
 
 26th June, 1804. 
 
 Sir I have communicated the letter which you did 
 me the honour to write to me of this date, to General 
 Hamilton. The expectations now disclosed on the part 
 of Colonel Burr, appear to him to have greatly extend 
 ed the original ground of inquiry, and instead of present 
 ing a particular and definite case of explanation, seem 
 ed to aim at nothing less than an inquisition into his 
 most confidential conversations, as well as others, 
 through the whole period of his acquaintance with Col. 
 Burr. 
 
 While he was prepared to meet the particular case 
 fairly and fully, he thinks it inadmissible that he should 
 be expected to answer at large as to every thing that he 
 may possibly have said, in relation to the character of 
 Col. Burr, at any time or upon any occasion. Though 
 
 *June 2<2d 
 
148 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 he is not conscious that any charges which are in circu 
 lation to the prejudice of Colonel Burr, have originated 
 with him, except one which may have been so consid 
 ered, and which has long since been fully explained be 
 tween Colonel Burr and himself yet he cannot consent 
 to be questioned generally as to any rumours which may 
 be afloat derogatory to the character of Colonel Burr, 
 without specification to the several rumours, many of 
 them probably unknown to him. He does not, however* 
 mean to authorize any conclusion as to the real nature 
 of his conduct in relation to Colonel Burr, by his de 
 clining so loose and vague a basis of explanation, and 
 he disavows an unwillingness to come to a satisfactory, 
 provided it be an honourable, accommodation. His 
 objection is, the very indefinite ground which Col. Burr 
 has assumed, in which he is sorry to be able to discern 
 nothing short of predetermined hostility. Presuming, 
 therefore, that it will be adhered to, he has instructed 
 me to receive the message which you have it in charge 
 to deliver. For this purpose I shall be at home, and at 
 your command, to-morrow morning, from eight to ten 
 o clock. 
 
 I have the honour to be respectfully, 
 
 your obedient servant, 
 NATHANIEL PENDLETON. 
 Wm. P. Van Ness, Esq. 
 
 Sir The letter which I had the honour to receive, 
 from you, under date of yesterday, states, among other 
 things, that in General Hamilton s opinion, Col. Burr has 
 taken a very indefinite ground, in which he evinces noth 
 ing short of predetermined hostility, and that General 
 Hamilton thinks it inadmissible that the inquiry should 
 extend to his confidential as well as other conversations. 
 In this Colonel Burr can -only reply, that secret whis 
 pers traducing his fame, and impeaching his honour, are, 
 at least equally injurious with slanders publicly uttered; 
 that Gen. Hamilton had, at no time, and in no place, a 
 right to use any such injurious expressions; and that the 
 partial negative he is disposed to give, with the reserva 
 tions he wishes to make, are proofs that he has done the 
 injury specified. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 149 
 
 Col. Burr s request was, in the first instance, proposed 
 in a form the most simple, in order that Gen. Hamilton 
 might give to the affair that course to which he might be 
 induced by his temper and his knowledge of facts. Col. 
 Burr trusted with confidence, that from the frankness of 
 a soldier and the candour of a gentleman, he might ex 
 pect an ingenuous declaration. That if, as he had rea 
 son to believe, General Hamilton had used expressions 
 derogatory to his honour, he would have had the mag- 
 nanimhy to retract them; and that if, from his language, 
 injurious inferences had been improperly drawn, he would 
 have perceived the propriety of correcting errors, which 
 might thus have been widely diffused. With these im 
 pressions, Colonel Burr was greatly surprised at receiv 
 ing a letter which he considered as evasive, and which 
 in manner he deemed not altogether decorous. In one 
 expectation, however, he was not wholly deceived, for 
 the close of General Hamilton s letter contained an 
 intimation that if Colonel Burr should dislike his refu 
 sal to acknowledge or deny, he was ready to meet the 
 consequences. This Col. Burr deemed a sort of defi 
 ance, and would have felt justified in making it the basis 
 of an immediate message. But as the communication 
 contained something concerning the indefiniteness of 
 the request: as he believed it rather the offspring of 
 false pride than of reflection, and as he felt the utmost 
 reluctance to proceed to extremities, while any other 
 hope remained, his request was repeated in terms more 
 explicit. The replies and propositions on the part of 
 General Hamilton have, in Col. Burr s opinion, been 
 constantly in substance the same. 
 
 Colonel Burr disavows all motives of predetermined 
 hostility, a charge by which he thinks insult added to 
 injury. He feels as a gentleman should feel when his 
 honor is impeached or assailed; and without sensations 
 of hostility or wishes of revenge, he is determined to 
 vindicate that honour at such hazard as the nature of 
 the case demands. 
 
 The length to which this correspondence has extended, 
 only tending to prove that the satisfactory redress, ear 
 nestly desired, cannot be obtained, he deems it useless 
 
150 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 to offer any proposition except the simple message which 
 I shall now have the honour to deliver. 
 
 I have the honour to be, with great respect, 
 
 your very humble servant, 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS. 
 Wednesday Morning, June 27th, 1 804. 
 
 With this letter a message was received, such as 
 was to be expected, containing an invitation, which was 
 accepted, and Mr. Pendleton informed Mr Van Ness he 
 should hear from him the next day as to further partic 
 ulars. 
 
 This letter was delivered to General Hamilton on thft 
 same evening, and a very short conversation ensued 
 between him and Mr. Pendleton, who was to call on him 
 early the next morning for a further conference. When 
 he did so, Gen. Hamilton said he had not understood 
 whether the message and answer was definitely conclu 
 ded, or whether another meeting was to take place for 
 that purpose between Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Van Ness. 
 Under the latter impression, and as the last letter con 
 tains matter that naturally led to animadversion, he gave 
 Mr. Pendleton a paper of remarks in his own hand wri 
 ting, to be communicated to Mr. Van Ness, if the state 
 of the affair rendered it proper, 
 
 In an interview with Mr. Van Ness on the same day, 
 after explaining the causes which had induced General 
 Hamilton to suppose that the state of the affair did not 
 render it improper, Mr. Pendleton offered this paper to 
 Mr. Van Ness ; but he declined receiving it, alleging that 
 he considered the correspondence as closed by the ac 
 ceptance of the message that he had delivered. 
 
 Mr. Pendleton then informed Mr. Van Ness of the in 
 ducements mentioned by General Hamilton in the paper, 
 for at least postponing the meeting until the close of the 
 Circuit ; and as this was uncertain, Mr. Pendleton was 
 to let him know when it would be convenient. 
 
 Here we think it most proper to introduce the paper 
 itself. The reader will form his own judgment whether 
 it was not Mr. Van Ness s duty to have received it, and 
 shown it to his principal; he will probably exercise his 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 151 
 
 own conjecture too as to Mr. Van Ness s motives for not 
 doing so. It follows: 
 
 44 Remarks on the letter of June 27, 1 804. 
 
 "Whether the observations on this letter are designed 
 merely to justify the result which is indicated in the 
 close of the letter, or may be intended to give an open 
 ing for rendering any thing explicit which may have 
 been deemed vague heretofore, can only be judged of by 
 the sequel. At any rate, it appears to me necessary not 
 to be misunderstood. Mr. Pendleton is therefore au 
 thorized to say, that in the course of the present discus 
 sion, written or verbal, there has been no intention to 
 evade, defy, or insult, but a sincere disposition to avoid 
 extremities if it could be done with propriety. With 
 this view, General Hamilton has been ready to enter 
 into a frank and free explanation on any and every ob 
 ject of a specific nature; but not to answer a general 
 and abstract inquiry, embracing a period too long for any 
 accurate recollection, and exposing him to unpleasant 
 criticisms from, or unpleasant discussions with, any and 
 every person, who may have understood him in an un 
 favourable sense. This (admitting that he could an 
 swer in a manner the most satisfactory to Colonel Burr) 
 he should deem inadmissible, in principle and precedent, 
 and humiliating in practice. To this therefore he can 
 never submit. Frequent allusion has been made to slan 
 ders, said to be in circulation. Whether they are open 
 ly or in whispers, they have a form and shape, arid 
 might be specified. 
 
 "If the alternative alluded to in the close of the let 
 ter is definitively tendered, it must be accepted: the 
 time, place, and manner, to be afterward regulated. I 
 should not think it right in the midst of a Circuit Court 
 to withdraw my services from those who may have con 
 fided important interests to me, and expose them to the 
 embarrassment of seeking other counsel, who may not 
 have time to be sufficiently instructed in their causes. I 
 shall also want a little time to make some arrange 
 ments respecting my own affairs." 
 
152 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 On Friday the 6th of July, the circuit being closed, 
 Mr. Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness that General 
 Hamilton would be re ady at any time after the Sunday 
 following. On Monday the particulars were arranged 
 on Wednesday the parties met at Weahawk, on the 
 Jersey shore, at 7 o clock, A. M. The particulars of 
 what then took place will appear from the following 
 statement. 
 
 It was nearly seven in the morning when the boat 
 which carried General Hamilton, his friend Mr. Pendle 
 ton, and the surgeon mutually agreed on, Doctor Ho- 
 sack, reached that part of the Jersey shore called the 
 Weahawk. There they found Mr. Burr, and his friend 
 Mr. Van Ness, who, as 1 am told, had been employed 
 since their arrival, with coats off, in clearing away the 
 bushes, limbs of trees, &c. so as to make a fair opening. 
 The parties in a few moments were at their allotted 
 situation: when Mr. Pendleton gave the word, Mr. Burr 
 raised his arm slowly, deliberately took his aim, and 
 fired. His ball entered General Hamilton s right side: 
 as soon as the bullet struck him, he raised himself invol 
 untarily on his toes, turned a little to the left (at which 
 moment his pistol went off,) and fell upon his face. Mr. 
 Pendleton immediately called out for Dr. Hosack, who, 
 in running to the spot, had to pass Mr. Van Ness and 
 Colonel Burr; but Mr. Van Ness had the cool precau 
 tion to cover his principal with an umbrella, so that Dr. 
 Hosack should not be able to swear that he saw him 
 on the field. What passed after this, the reader will 
 have in the following letter from Dr. Hosack himself. 
 
 August \lth, 1804. 
 
 "Dear Sir To comply with your request is a painful 
 task ; but I will repress my feelings while I endeavour to 
 furnish you with an enumeration of such particulars 
 relative to the melancholy end of our beloved friend 
 Hamilton, as dwell most forcibly on my recollection. 
 
 "When called to him, upon his receiving the fatal 
 wound, I found him half sitting on the ground, supported 
 in the arms of Mr. Pendleton. His countenance of death 
 I shall never forget He had at that instant just strength 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 153 
 
 to say, "This is a mortal wound, Doctor;" when he 
 sunk away, and became to all appearances lifeless. I 
 immediately stripped up his clothes, and soon, alas ! 
 ascertained that the direction of the hall must have 
 been through some vital part. His pulses were not to 
 be felt; his respiration was entirely suspended; and 
 upon laying my hand on his heart and perceiving no 
 motion there, I considered him as irrecoverably gone. I 
 however observed to Mr. Pendleton, that the only 
 chance for his reviving was immediately to get him upon 
 the water. We therefore lifted him up, and carried him 
 out of the wood, to the margin of the bank, where the 
 bargeman aided us in conveying him into the boat, 
 which immediately put off. During all this time I could 
 not discover the least symptom of returning life. I now 
 rubbed his face, lips, and temples, with spirits of harts 
 horn, applied it to his neck and breast, and to his wrists 
 and palms of his hands, and endeavoured to pour some 
 into his mouth. When we had got, as I should judge, 
 about fifty yards from the shore, some imperfect efforts 
 to breathe were for the first time manifest: in a few 
 minutes he sighed, and became sensible of the impres 
 sion of the hartshorn, or the fresh air of the water: he 
 breathed; his eyes, hardly opened, wandered, without 
 fixing upon any objects: to our great joy he at length 
 spoke: "My vision is indistinct," were his first words. 
 His pulse became more perceptible: his respiration 
 more regular; his sight returned. I then examined the 
 wound to know if there was any dangerous discharge of 
 blood ; upon slightly pressing his side it gave him pain ; 
 on which I desisted. Soon after recovering his sight, 
 he happened to cast his eyes upon the case of pistols, 
 and observing the one he had had in his hand lying on 
 the outside, he said, "Take care of that pistol; it is un 
 discharged and still cocked ; it may go off and do harm: 
 Pendleton knows, (attempting to turn his head towards 
 him) that I did not intend to fire at him." "Yes," said 
 Mr. Pendleton, understanding his wish, "I have already 
 made Dr. Ho sack acquainted with your determination 
 as to that." He then closed his eyes and remained 
 , without any disposition to speak; nor did he sav 
 
 U 
 
154 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 much afterward, excepting in reply to .my questions as to 
 his feelings. He asked me once or twice how I found 
 his pulse ; and he informed me that his lower extremities 
 had lost all feeling; manifesting to me that he entertain 
 ed no hopes that he should long survive. I changed the 
 posture of his limbs, but to no purpose; they had total 
 ly lost their sensibility. Perceiving that we approached 
 the shore, he said, "Let Mrs. Hamilton be immediately 
 sent for let the event be gradually broken to her; but 
 give her hopes." Looking up we saw his friend Mr. 
 Bayard standing on the wharf in great agitation. He 
 had been told by his servant that General Hamilton, Mr. 
 Pendleton, and myself, had crossed the river in a boat 
 together, and too well he conjectured the fatal errand, 
 and foreboded the dreadful result. Perceiving, as we 
 came nearer, that Mr. Pendleton and myself only sat up 
 in the stern-sheet, he clasped his hands together in the 
 most violent apprehensions; but when I called to him to 
 have a cot prepared, and he at the same time saw his 
 poor friend lying in the bottom of the boat, he threw up 
 his eyes and burst into a flood of tears and lamentation. 
 Hamilton alone appeared tranquil and composed. We 
 then conveyed him as tenderly as possible up to the 
 house. The distresses of this amiable family were such 
 that till the first shock was abated, they were scarcely 
 able to summon fortitude enough to yield sufficient as 
 sistance to their dying friend. 
 
 "Upon our reaching the house he became more lan 
 guid, occasioned probably by the agitation of his re 
 moval from the boat. I gave him a little weak wine 
 and water. When he recovered his feelings, he com 
 plained of pain in his back; we immediately undressed 
 him, laid him in bed, and darkened the room. I then gave 
 him a large anodyne, which I frequently repeated. Du 
 ring th*e first day he took upwards of an ounce of lauda 
 num; and tepid anodyne fomentations were also 
 applied to those parts nearest the seat of his pain Yet 
 were his sufferings, during the whole of the day, almost 
 intolerable* 
 
 *As iiis habit was delicate, and had been lately rendered more feeble 
 by ill health, particularly by a disorder of the stomach and bowels, I care 
 fully avoided all those remedies which are usually indicated on sucli oc- 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 155 
 
 i had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery, and 
 Dr. Post, whom I requested might be sent for immediate 
 ly on our reaching Mr. Bayard s house, united with me 
 in this opinion. General Key, the French Consul, also 
 had the goodness to invite the surgeons of the French 
 frigates in our harbour, as they had had much experi 
 ence in gun-shot wounds, to render their assistance. 
 They immediately came; but to prevent his being dis 
 turbed 1 stated to them his situation, described the na 
 ture of his wound and the direction of the ball, with all 
 the symptoms that could enable them to form an opin 
 ion as to the event. One of the gentlemen then accom 
 panied me to the bed-side. The result was a confirma 
 tion of the opinion that had already been expressed by 
 Dr. Post and myself. 
 
 During the night, he had some imperfect sleep ; but the 
 succeeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, at 
 tended however with a diminution of pain. His mind 
 retained all its usual strength and composure. The 
 great source of his anxiety seemed to be in his sympa 
 thy with his half distracted wife and children. He 
 spoke to me frequently of them "My beloved wife and 
 children," were always his expressions. But his forti 
 tude triumphed over his situation, dreadful as it was; 
 once, indeed, at the sight of his children brought to the 
 bed-side together, seven in number, his utterance forsook 
 him; he opened his eyes, gave them one look, and clos 
 ed them again, till they were taken away. As a proof 
 of his extraordinary composure of mind, let me add, 
 that he alone could calm the frantic grief of their moth 
 er. "Remember, my Eliza, you are a Christian" were 
 the expressions with which he frequently, with a firm 
 voice, but in a pathetic and impressive manner, ad 
 dressed her. His words, and the tone in which they 
 were uttered, will never be effaced from my memory. 
 At about two o clock, as the public well know, he ex- 
 pired.t 
 
 fExtracts from Facts and Documents rotative to the death of Genera 
 Hamilton. 
 
156 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 "Incorrupta fides nndaque veritas 
 Quando ulliirn invenient pareml 
 Multis ille quidem flebilis occidit." 
 
 Who would believe, had not the fact evinced it, that 
 the son of the venerable President Burr, that model of 
 Christian patience, charity, and meekness; that the son 
 of such a man, the second officer in the United States, 
 should in direct violation of the laws of heaven and his 
 own state; after every means of reconciliation on the 
 part of the unfortunate deceased, that was consistent 
 with honour, had been exhausted, should take a cool 
 and deliberate aim against the//"rsf citizen of our coun 
 try; the father of a numerous family ; the husband of a 
 most affectionate wife; an ornament to his country and 
 human nature. Could nothing but his blood atone for 
 expressions honestly intended for the public good, and 
 authorized by every just principle of an elective gov 
 ernment? Could nothing allay the cool, persevering, 
 and premeditated resentment of his antagonist, but the 
 heart s blood of such a man? 
 
 Well, he is gone! Gone with the tenderest esteem, the 
 highest respect, the most affectionate tears that ever fell 
 on the tomb of a public character. He has gone to re 
 ceive the rich reward of the many and great exertions 
 for his country s welfare. Trusting in the merits of his 
 Saviour, penitent for his past sins, forgiving even the foe 
 from whom he received his mortal wound ; he is gone to 
 receive that recompense of reward, which is the meed 
 of the truly upright and benevolent. 
 
 Far be it from us, at this time, to excite the angry 
 passions against the guilty author of this mighty ruin. 
 He lives, and long may he live, his hands stained with 
 blood unrighteously shed \ But we cannot refrain from 
 giving a place to the following circumstances, which 
 occurred in the city of Albany soon after the death of 
 Hamilton 
 
 "On Sunday morning the afflicted Mrs. Hamilton at 
 tended service in the Presbyterian Church in this city, 
 with her three little ones. 
 
 "At the close of a prayer by the Rev. Mr. Nott, the 
 eldest dropped on his face, in a fainting fit. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 157 
 
 "Two gentlemen immediately raised him, and while 
 bearing him out of Church, the afflicted mother sprung 
 forward, in the agonies of grief and despair, towards her 
 apparently lifeless son. 
 
 "The heart-rending scene she had recently struggled 
 with, called forth all the fine spun sensibilities of her 
 nature; and seemed to say nature must, and will be in 
 dulged, in her keenest sorrows. She was overpowered 
 in the conflict, and likewise sunk, uttering such heart 
 rending groans, and inward sighs, as would have melted 
 into mingled sympathies, even Burr himself. 
 
 "Both of them stoocl recovered; and while the little 
 son was supported standing on the steps, yet speechless, 
 the most affecting scene presented itself. The mother 
 in this tender situation, fastened herself upon the son, 
 with her head reclining on his left shoulder; the agonies 
 so strongly painted in her countenance ; her long flowing 
 weeds; the majesty of her person; the position of both; 
 and above all, the peculiarity of their trying situation in 
 the recent loss of a husband and a father; who could 
 refrain from invoking on the head of the guilty author of 
 their miseries, those curses he so richly merits? The 
 curse of living despised, and execrated by the voice of 
 a whole nation; the curse of being held up to the view 
 of future ages, a MONSTER and an ASSASSIN." 
 
 "After the death of General Hamilton, a note which 
 had been written the evening before the interview, was 
 found, addressed to the gentleman who accompanied 
 him to the field; thanking him with tenderness for his 
 friendship to him, and informing him where would be 
 found the keys of certain drawers in his desk, in which 
 he had deposited such papers as he thought proper to 
 leave behind him; together with his last Will. 
 
 The following paper, as containing his motives for ac 
 cepting the challenge; his reflections on his situation; 
 and some remarks on the conduct of the man, who was 
 to be the cause of his death, is presented as a highly 
 interesting document. 
 
158 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 On my expected interview with Col. Burr, I think it 
 proper to make some remarks explanatory of my con 
 duct, motives, and views. 
 
 I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview for 
 the most cogent reasons. 
 
 1. My religious and moral principles are strongly 
 opposed to the practice of duelling, and it would ever 
 give me pain to be obliged to shed the blood of a fel 
 low-creature in a private combat forbidden by the laws. 
 
 2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, 
 and my life is of the utmost importance to them, in va 
 rious views. 
 
 3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors; 
 who incase of accident to me, by the forced sale of my 
 property, may be in some degree sufferers. I did not 
 think myself at liberty as a man of probity, lightly to 
 expose them to this hazard, 
 
 4. I am conscious of no ill will to Colonel Burr, dis 
 tinct from political opposition, which, as I trust, has pro 
 ceeded from pure and upright motives. 
 
 Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain 
 nothing by the issue of the interview. 
 
 But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid 
 it. There were intrinsic difficulties in the thing, and 
 artificial embarrassments from the manner of proceeding 
 on the part of Col. Burr. 
 
 Intrinsic, because it is not to be denied, that my ani 
 madversions on the political principles, character, and 
 views of Colonel Burr, have been extremely severe ; 
 and on different occasions, I, in common with many 
 others have made very unfavourable criticisms on par 
 ticular instances of the private conduct of this gen 
 tleman. 
 
 In proportion as these expressions were entertained 
 with sincerity, and uttered with motives, and for purpo 
 ses which might appear to me commendable, would be 
 the difficulty, (until they could be removed by evidence 
 of their being erroneous,) of explanation or apology. 
 The disavowal required of me by Col. Burr, in a gener 
 al and indefinite form, was out of my power, if it had 
 really been proper for me to submit to be so questioned; 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 159 
 
 but I was sincerely of opinion that this could not be, 
 and in this opinion I was confirmed by that of a very 
 moderate and judicious friend whom I consulted. Be 
 sides that, Col. Burr appeared to me to assume, in the 
 first instance, a tone unnecessarily peremptory and men 
 acing, and in the second, positively offensive. Yet I 
 wished, as far as might be practicable, to leave a dt>or 
 open to accommodation. This, I think, will be inferred 
 from the written communications made by me and by 
 my direction, and would be ocnfirmed by the conversa 
 tions between Mr. Van Ness and myself, which arose out 
 of the subject. 
 
 I am not sure whether, under all the circumstances, 
 I did not go further in the attempt to accommodate, than 
 a punctilious delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the mo 
 tives I have stated will excuse me. 
 
 It is not my design, by what I have said, to affix any 
 odium on the conduct of Col. Burr, in this case. He 
 doubtless has heard of animadversions of mine which 
 bore very hard upon him ; and it is probable that as usu 
 al they were accompanied with some falsehoods. He 
 may have supposed himself under a necessity of acting 
 as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding 
 have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience. 
 
 I trust at the same time, that the world will do me 
 the justice to believe that I have not censured him on 
 light grounds, nor from unworthy inducements. I certain 
 ly have had strong reasons for what I have said, though 
 it is possible that, in some particulars, I may have 
 been influenced by misconstruction or misinformation. 
 It is also my ardent wish that I may have been more 
 mistaken than I think I have been, and that he, by his 
 future conduct, may show himself worthy of all confi 
 dence and esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing 
 to the country. 
 
 As well because it is possible that I may have inju 
 red Col. Burr, however convinced myself that my opin 
 ions and declarations have been well founded, as from 
 my general principles and temper in relation to similar 
 affairs, I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in 
 the usual manner, and it pleases God to give me the 
 
160 ISAAC HAYNE. 
 
 opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and 1 
 have thoughts even of reserving my second fire and thus 
 giving a double opportunity to Colonel Burr, to pause and 
 to reflect. 
 
 It is not, however, my intention to enter into any ex 
 planation on the ground apology from principle, I hope, 
 rather than pride, is out of the question. 
 
 To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of du 
 elling, may think that I ought on no account to have 
 added to the number of bad examples, I answer, that 
 my relative situation, as well in public as private, en 
 forcing all the considerations which constitute what 
 men of the world denominate honour, imposed on me 
 (as I thought) a peculiar necessity not to decline the 
 call. The ability to be in future useful, whether in re 
 sisting mischief or effecting good, in those crisis of our 
 public affairs which seem likely to happen, would prob 
 ably be inseparable from a conformity with public prej 
 udice in this particular."* A. H. 
 
 ISAAC HAYNE, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 b4 THIS gentleman had been a distinguished and very 
 active officer in the American service, previous to the 
 subjugation of Charleston. When this event took place, 
 he found himself called to a separation from his family, 
 a dereliction of his property, and submission to the 
 conqueror. In this situation he thought it his duty to 
 become a voluntary prisoner, and take his parole. On 
 surrendering himself, he offered to engage and stand 
 bound on the principles of honour, to do nothing preju 
 dicial to the British interest until he was exchanged; 
 but his abilities and his services were of such consider 
 ation to his country, that he was refused a parole, and 
 told he must become a British subject, or submit to close 
 confinement. 
 
 "His family was then in a distant part of the country, 
 and in great distress by sickness, and from the ravages 
 
 *Vi<l< Facts and Docnmon(<! rHntivr << Hon. Hamilton. 
 
ISAAC HAYNE. 16 1 
 
 iof the royalists in their neighbourhood. Thus he seemed 
 impelled toacknowlenge himself the subject of a govern 
 ment he had relinquished from the purest principles, or 
 renounce his tenderest connexions, and leave them with 
 out a possibility of his assistance, and at the moment 
 when he hourly expected to hear of the death of an af 
 fectionate wife, ill of the small pox. 
 
 In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a declaration 
 of his allegiance to the king of Great Britain, with this 
 express exception, that he should never be required to 
 take arms against his country Noth withstanding this, 
 he was soon and repeatedly called upon to arm in sup 
 port of a government he detested, or to submit to the 
 severest punishment. Brigadier General Patterson, 
 commandant of the garrison, and the intendant of the 
 Britsh police, a Mr. Simpson, had both assured Col. 
 Fayne, that no such thing would be required; and ad 
 ded, "that when the royal army could not defend a 
 country without the aid of its inhabitants, it would be 
 time to quit it."* 
 
 Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in 
 British service, after assurances that this would never 
 be required, as a breach of contract, and a release in 
 the eye of conscience, from any obligation on his part. 
 Accordingly he took the first opportunity of resuming* 
 his arms as an American, assumed the command of his 
 own regiment; and all fond of their former commander, 
 Colonel Hayne marched with a defensible body to the 
 relief of his countrymen, then endeavouring to drive the 
 British partizans,and keep them within the environs of 
 Charleston. He very unfortunately in a short time fell 
 into the hands of a strong British party, sent out for the 
 recovery of a favourite officer,t who had left the Amer 
 ican cause, and became a devotee to the British gov 
 ernment. 
 
 As soon as Colonel Hayne was captured, he was 
 closely imprisoned. Tliis was on the twenty-sixth of 
 
 *See a representation of Colonel Hayne s case, laid before Congress 
 after his death. 
 
 fThis was General Williamson, captured within several miles of the ci- 
 <v, by a small reconnoitorin^ party sent out by Col. Hayne. 
 
 w 
 
162 ISAAC HAYNE. 
 
 July. He was notified the same day, that a court oi 
 officers would assemble the next day, to determine in 
 w r hat point of view he ought to be considered. On the 
 twenty-ninth he was informed, that in consequence of a 
 court of inquiry held the day before, Lord llawdon and 
 Lieutenant Colonel Baltbur had resolved upon his exe 
 cution within two days. 
 
 His astonishiment at these summary arid illegal pro 
 ceedings can scarcely be conceived. He wrote Lord 
 Rawdon, that he had no intimation of any thing more 
 than a court of inquiry, to determine whether he should 
 be considered as an American or British subject: if the 
 first, he ought to be set at liberty on parole; if the last, 
 he claimed a legal trial. He assured his lordship, that 
 on a trial he had many things to urge in his defence; 
 reasons that would be weighty in a court of equity; and 
 concluded his letter with observing, fct lf, sir, I am re 
 fused this favour, which I cannot conceive from yo in 
 justice or humanity, I earnestly entreat that my execu 
 tion may be deferred; that I may at least take a last 
 farewell of my children, and prepare for the solemn 
 change." 1 
 
 But his death predetermined, his enemies were deaf 
 to the voice of compassion. The execution of his sen 
 tence was hastened, though the reputation and merits of 
 this gentleman were such, that the whole city was 
 zealous for his preservation. Not only the inhabitants 
 in opposition to the British government, but even Lieut. 
 Governor Bull at the head of the royalists, interceded 
 for his life. The principal ladies of Charleston endeav 
 oured, by their compassionate interference, to arrest or 
 influence the relentless hand of power. They drew up 
 and presented to Lord Rawdon, a delicate and pathetic 
 petition in his behalf. His near relations, and his chil 
 dren, had just performed the funeral rites over the grave 
 of a tender mother, appeared on their bended knees, to 
 implore the life of their father. But in spite of the sup 
 plications of children and friends, strangers and foes, the 
 flinty heart of Lord Rawdon remained untouched, amidst 
 
 *Sce a more full account of the treatment of Col. Hayne in liis own pa 
 pers, afterward presented to congress. 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 163 
 
 these scenes of sensibility and distress. No ameliora 
 tion of the sentence could be obtained; and this affec 
 tionate father took a final leave of his children in the 
 manner that pierced the souls of the beholders. To the 
 eldest of them, a youth of but thirteen years of age, he 
 delivered a transcript of his case, directed him to con 
 vey it to Congress, and ordered him to see that his fath 
 er s remains were deposited in the tomb of his ances 
 tors. 
 
 Pinioned like a criminal, this worthy citizen walked 
 with composure through the crowds of admiring spec 
 tators, with the dignity of the philosopher, and the in 
 trepidity of the Christian. He suffered as a hero, and 
 was hanged as a felon, amidst the tears of the multi 
 tude, and the curses of thousands, who execrated the 
 perpetrators of this cruel deed* 
 
 WILLIAM HEATH, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL HEATH descended from an ancient family, 
 and was of the fifth generation of the family, who have 
 inherited the same real estate taken up in a state of na 
 ture. He was born in the year 1737, in Roxbury Mass. 
 and was from his youth a cultivator of the soil, of which 
 profession he was passionately fond. 
 
 From his childhood he was remarkably fond of mili 
 tary exercises, which passion grew up with him, and as 
 he arrived at years of maturity, led him to procure, and 
 attentively study every military treatise in the English 
 language, which he could procure. 
 
 As the dispute between Great Britain and her Amer 
 ican colonies assumed a serious aspect, Heath did not 
 hesitate, for a moment, to declare his sentiments in fa 
 vour of the rights and liberties of his fellow-countrymen. 
 So early as the year 1770,he commenced addresses to the 
 public, under the signature of "A Military Countryman" 
 in which he urged the importance of military discipline, 
 and skill in the use of arms, as the only means, under 
 
 * Warren s Revolution. 
 
164 WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 heaven, that could save the country, and he assiduously 
 applied himself in organizing and disciplining the 
 companies of militia and minutemen. 
 
 Being ranked among the patriots and advocates for 
 liberty, he was commissioned in 1775, by the Provincial 
 Congress as a brigadier-general, and in 1776. he receiv 
 ed a commission from Congress, appointing him a ma 
 jor-general in the army of the United States. 
 
 Though high in rank, and respectable as an officer of 
 parade and discipline, we look in vain for laurels acqui 
 red in the field. Had it been his destiny, however, to 
 encounter the perils of a conflict in the field of battle, 
 no one can say how valorously he would have acted the 
 hero. 
 
 During the years 1777 and 1778, he was the com 
 manding officer of the eastern department, with his 
 head-quarters at Boston. Here devolved upon him the 
 arduous and difficult duties of superintendent of the 
 convention troops captured with Burgoyne at Saratoga, 
 and now quartered at Cambridge. The station requi 
 red the exercise of uncommon firmness and decision of 
 character. And had General Heath been destitute of 
 these characteristics, he would have been subjected to 
 the grossest impositions and indignities, from the haugh 
 tiness of the British generals, Burgoyne and Phillips, 
 and the perverse temper of their soldiery. He who had 
 vauntingly declared in the British Parliament, that 
 "with five thousand men he would make elbow room 
 from one end of the continent to the other," couid ill 
 support himself under the chagrin and mortification of a 
 state of captivity. His lofty spirit frequently broke 
 forth, but General Heath soon convinced him that he 
 was neither deficient in spirit, nor ignorant of his duty, 
 as a military commander. 
 
 The follow! g circumstances that occurred during the 
 stay of the British troops at Cambridge, and the letters 
 which passed between the officers, at once show the 
 difficulties which arose in the path of duty prescribed 
 to General Heath, and the promptness and vigour with 
 which he met, and surmounted them. 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of the British general at Cam 
 bridge, they made an insiduous attempt to retain the 
 chief command over their own troops. In a conversa 
 tion, General Phillips turning to General Heath, observ 
 ed, "Sir, yon well know the disposition of soldiers, and 
 that they will more or less in all armies commit some 
 disorder; suppose you should delegate to General Bur- 
 goyne the power of seeing your orders executed?" 
 
 General Heath promptly replied, " that he knew the 
 disposition of soldiers, and also the necessity of order 
 and discipline: that he was not only willing, but expect 
 ed that General Burgoyne, and every other officer would 
 exert themselves to keep order. But as to the exercise 
 of his own command, and enforcement of his own orders 
 when necessary, that was a jurisdiction which General 
 Burgoyne must not expect to exercise while here." 
 
 For two weeks after his arrival in Boston, General 
 Burgoyne had neglected upon trifling excuses, to sign 
 his parole in the manner specified in the articles of ca 
 pitulation. Finding him thus disposed to evade, Gen, 
 Heath addressed him the following letter. 
 
 HEAD-QUARTERS, BOSTON,) 
 Nov. 23, 1777. J 
 
 "SiR, Two weeks have now elapsed since I had ful 
 ly expected that the officers would have signed their 
 paroles. They have, during this time, been enjoying in 
 a great measure the liberty of the limits intended to be 
 assigned to them, without pledging their honour by pa 
 role; which is not only contrary to the established cus 
 tom of nations, but contrary to the eleventh article of 
 the Convention. I must, therefore, in the most explicit 
 terms, insist that the officers who wish and expect to be 
 permitted on parole, agreeably to the Convention, do 
 sign it to-morrow. This is so reasonable, that I expect 
 there will be no further hesitancy; and I still assure 
 your Excellency, that no endeavours of mine shall be 
 wanting to fulfil the Convention, and to treat the officers 
 with politeness and generosity. 
 
 i am. &c. 
 
 (Signed) WM. HEATH, 
 
 To Lieut. Gen. BURGOYNE." 
 
166 WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 November 8th, 1777, Congress directed Gen. Heath 
 "to cause to be taken down the name and rank of every 
 commissioned officer, and the name, size, age, and des 
 cription of every non-commissioned officer and private, 
 and all other persons comprised in the convention made 
 between Lieutenant General Burgoyne and Major Gen. 
 Gates, on the 16th October, 1777, and transmit an au 
 thentic copy thereof to the board of war, in order that 
 if any officer or soldier, or other person as above men 
 tioned, of the said army, shall hereafter be found in 
 arms against these states, during the present contest, he 
 may be convicted of the offence, and suffer the punish 
 ment in such case inflicted by the law of nations." 
 
 "Upon the foregoing being communicated to General 
 Burgoyne, and he called upon to have the said descrip 
 tive lists made out accordingly, he wrote our general 
 the following letter: 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, Nov. 20, 1777. 
 
 "SiR I have received a paper, dated Head-Quar 
 ters, Boston, Nov. 20th, purporting to be founded upon 
 express orders from the Honourable Continental Con 
 gress, which paper I return as inadmissible, because ex 
 tending to matters in which the Congress have no right 
 of interference. 
 
 "A list of the names and rank of every commissioned 
 officer, and the numbers of the non-commissioned offi 
 cers and soldiers, may be necessary to you, Sir, for the 
 purpose of fulfilling the Convention, in quartering offi 
 cers, and the regular delivery of provisions, fuel, &c. 
 Such lists shall be prepared at your request; but before 
 any other lists can be granted, I must be assured of the 
 purposes for which they are intended, and the word 
 on/cr must neither be mentioned nor implied. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE, 
 
 Lieut. General to 
 Major Gen. HEATH. 
 
 To the foregoing, our general wrote an answer as 
 follows: 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 1 67 
 
 HEAD-QUARTERS, BOSTON, Nov. 21, 1777. 
 
 "SiR Your s of yesterday is before me: and although 
 you might at first imagine that the Honourable Conti 
 nental Congress have no right of interference in matters 
 of the Convention, yet I conclude, upon further reflection 
 you must be convinced, that as that body aie the Rep 
 resentatives of that people who are to reap the advan 
 tages or disadvantages of the Conventon, and as all 
 continental officers are acting by virtue of their author 
 ity, and under their direction, they assuredly have a 
 right of interference, and to give such orders to their 
 officers as they may think proper, for the full comple 
 tion of the Convention, and for the safety and good of 
 the people. 
 
 li l must therefore insist that you furnish me with 
 proper lists of names, and descriptions, for the purpose 
 before mentioned as soon as may be. 
 
 "I shall at all times endeavour to found my orders on 
 the principles of honour, reason, and justice, and not to 
 infringe those delicate principles in others; but my or 
 ders for the purposes of order and regularity, must be 
 obeyed by every man and all bodies of men placed un 
 der my direction; and fully determined I am, that offen 
 ders shall not pass with impunity. I am, &c. 
 
 (Signed) W. HEATH. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. BURGOYNE. 
 
 Gen. Burgoyne had received intimations that a fleet 
 of transports were about to come round for the troops, 
 and that the Juno frigate was to wear a flag for his par 
 ticular accommodation. This he mentioned to General 
 Heath, and wished to know if the frigate might come up 
 into the harbour. General Heath had no apprehen 
 sions of any danger from a frigate entering the harbour, 
 but apprehended that some people might think that he 
 was not sufficiently vigilant, in case he allowed it. He 
 therefore told General Burgoyne that the frigate could 
 not come up into the harbour, and hinted to him the ta 
 king one of the most convenient transports in the fleet for 
 tho purpose ; and he might do as he pleased when he got 
 off. This touched Gen. Burgoye exceedingly, who wrote 
 
168 WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 a letter to General Heath, in which was the following 
 paragraph, 
 
 "As to your allotment of a "convenient transport" for 
 my passage, if it was from yourself, I am to thank you, 
 Sir, for a sort of insult which the most haughty man of 
 office would be ashamed of, in any other country. How 
 ever, as I am determined every transaction concerning 
 this convention shall be notorious, and beyond the powers 
 of subterfuge to explain away, I have directed the 
 frigate together with the transports to come round, and 
 it will then be for you, Sir, to prohibit the entry of Bos 
 ton harbour, to any ships bearing a flag of truce, and 
 declaring they are sent for the express purpose of con 
 veying to Great Britain any part of the troops of the 
 Convention. 
 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. 
 
 To which Gen. Heath wrote the following answer: 
 
 HEAD-QUARTERS, BOSTON,I 
 January .0, 1778. 
 
 "SiR Your Excellency s favour of yesterday came 
 duly to hand ; and I must confess I was not a little sur 
 prised at some expressions in it. 
 
 "As by the Convention, transports only are stipulated 
 to receive the troops, I submit to you, Sir, whether a hint 
 [if you were even sure that it came from myself] that 
 you should take a convenient one, rather than introduce 
 a frigate, which is neither expressed or implied in the 
 Convention, merits those epithets which you are pleased 
 to bestow on me. 
 
 "I have ever aimed to treat you with politeness; and 
 the plighted faith and honour of my country require me 
 to pay strict attention to the Convention on their part; 
 of course, when transports arrive to receive the troops, 
 they will enter the harbour; and if you can find by the 
 Convention that a frigate is to enter for the particular 
 reception of yourself, she will not be prohibited. But if 
 it is rather uncommon for ships of war, to bear flags of 
 truce, and if consenting to it in the present case, should 
 Appear to be rather an act of politeness and generosity 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 than otherwise, I leave you to your own reflections 
 whether you have made choice of the most happy ex 
 pressions to obtain it. 
 
 (Signed) W. HEATH. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. BURGOYNE. 
 
 Another serious matter took place about this time; 
 Colonel Henley, who had the immediate command at 
 Cambridge, a brave and good officer, but warm and 
 quick in his natural temper, having ordered some pris 
 oners who were under guard turned out, that he might 
 examine them, one of them treated him with much in 
 solence; upon which he pricked him with a sword, or 
 bayonet. General Burgoyne immediately presented a 
 complaint against Colonel Henley, charging him witli 
 barbarous and wanton conduct, and intentional murder, 
 as appears in the following letter. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, Jan. 9/A, 1778. 
 
 "g IR A report has been made to me of a disturbance 
 that happened at the barracks on Wednesday after 
 noon, for which I am much concerned ; and though thr 
 provocations from your people, which originally occa 
 sioned it, were of the most atrocious nature, I was 
 willing the offender on our part should be properly pun 
 ished. But Colonel Henley, not content with that. 
 made prisoners of eighteen innocent men, and sent them 
 onboard a guard-ship, as alleged by your order. It is 
 not only a duty to my situation to demand the imme 
 diate discharge of these men, together with a satisfac 
 tory apology; but I also mean it as an attention to yon. 
 Sir, that I give you an immediate opportunity to disavow 
 so unjustifiable a proceeding, as committing men to the 
 worst of prisons upon vague report, caprice and passion. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE." 
 
 To which our general returned the following answer: 
 
 X 
 
ITU WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 HEAD-QURATERS, BOSTON, Jan. 14/A, 1778. 
 
 "SiR Your s of yesterday s date, 1 received the last 
 evening. What provocations you allude to, as having 
 been offered by my troops, 1 am at a loss to deter 
 mine. The insults and abuses which they have receiv 
 ed, I will venture to say, unless I have been most grossly 
 misinformed, are unparalleled; and whether you are 
 willing or unwilling, Sir, offenders shall no longer pass 
 with impunity, 
 
 "If it can be made to appear, that any of those sol 
 diers sent to the guard-ship by my orders, are innocent, 
 they shall be released from their confinement; but with 
 respect to such as have been guilty of violating my 
 standing orders of the garrison, instead of disavowing 
 or making any apology for the confinement of such, be 
 assured that I do most explicitly avow it. And as I 
 have before observed to your Excellency in a former 
 letter, of which you may be assured, I shall at all times 
 endeavour to found my orders on the principles of hon 
 our, reason and justice, and not to infringe those delicate 
 principles in others; so also be assured.Sir, that such 
 my orders shall be obeyed by every officer and soldier 
 placed under my direction; and such as have the hardi 
 ness to transgress them, shall abide the consequences. 
 
 (Signed) I am, &c. W. HEATH." 
 
 June 7th, 1778, a British officer was shot by an A- 
 merican centinel, the officer attempting to pass, contrary 
 to the standing orders. The sentinel was immediately 
 relieved and put under guard to await a legal trial. 
 Upon receiving an official account, General Heath im 
 mediately informed Major-General Phillips, who was 
 now the senior British officer, Burgoync having sailed 
 for England, of the circumstance, and of his determina 
 tion to give the offender ia fair trial. 
 
 A few minutes after General Heath had sent his let 
 ter, he received the following from Gen. Phillips: 
 
 "Cambridge, June 17, 1778. 
 "Murder and deatli has at length taken place. An 
 officer, riding out from the barracks on Prospect Hill. 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 171 
 
 has been shot by an American sentinel. I leave the 
 horrors incident to that bloody disposition, which has 
 joined itself to rebellion in these colonies, to the feelings 
 of all Europe. I do not ask for justice, for I believe 
 every principle of it is fled from this province. 
 
 "I demand liberty to send an officer to Sir Henry 
 Clinton, by way of the head quarters of Gen. Washing 
 ton, with my report of this murder. 
 
 (Signed) W. PHILLIPS, M. G. 
 
 * ; Maj. GEN. HEATH." 
 
 The next morning our general wrote the following to 
 Gen. Phillips: 
 
 "HEAD-QUARTERS, BOSTON,) 
 June 18, 1778. 
 
 " SIR Were it even certain that the shooting of the 
 officer was an act of the most deliberate and wilful 
 murder, why should you charge these free independent 
 states with a bloody disposition and with rebellion, and 
 this state in particular as void of every principle of 
 justice? Although I ever had, and still have, a per 
 sonal regard for you, and wish in every respect to treat 
 you with the utmost generosity; yet that duty which I 
 owe to the honour and dignity of the United States, will 
 not allow me to pass unnoticed such expressions as are 
 contained in your letter: and I cannot put any other 
 interpretation upon them, than that they are a violent 
 infraction of your parole, most sacredly given. I do 
 conceive it to be my duty, and I do hereby restrict you 
 to the limits of your house, gardens, and yard, and to the 
 direct road from your quarters to the quarters of the 
 troops of the Convention, on Prospect and Winter Hills; 
 expecting from you a parole, for propriety of conduct 
 within those limits ; which, if you refuse, I shall be under 
 the necessity of ordering you to narrower limits, until I 
 can obtain the pleasure of the honourable the congress, 
 touching this matter, to whom I shall transmit your let 
 ter, and crave their directions. 
 
 I am, Sir, your obedient servant. 
 (Signed) W. H RATH, Maj. Gen. 
 
172 WILLIAM IIKATH. 
 
 U HEAD-Q,UAttTERS, BOSTON,) 
 
 June 18,1778. J 
 
 "SiR You will immediately repair to Cambridge, and 
 wait upon Maj. Gen. Phillips; present him the letter, 
 addressed to him. After he has read the letter, present 
 the parole; if he signs it, well ; if he refuses, you will 
 please to inform him, that in consequence of the inde 
 cent, dishonourable, and highly insulting expressions in 
 his letter of yesterday, against the honour and dignity 
 of the free, sovereign, and independent states of Amer 
 ica, and in prejudice of the measures and proceedings of 
 the honourable the congress as it is my duty, so it is 
 my express orders, that he, the said Major General Phil 
 lips, be restricted to the limits of his house, yards and 
 gardens, beyond which he is not to pass, until it be oth 
 erwise ordered; and that you immediately plant and 
 continue by relief so many Gentries, as may be necessary 
 to prevent his exceeding those limits. You will give 
 orders that the Gentries, so planted, observe a strict de 
 corum and soldier like behaviour, avoiding insult, and 
 behaving with becoming dignity. After which you will 
 wait on the next senior officer, and acquaint him of Gen. 
 Phillips being confined. 
 
 I am, Sir, yours. &c. 
 
 (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. 
 
 Lieut. Col. POLLARD, D. A.G. 
 
 General Phillips continuing to exhibit the same tem 
 per, or it rather growing upon him, he was continued in 
 his arrest, until the troops of the convention were order 
 ed to be removed to Clmrlotteville, in Virginia, when 
 General Heath was relieved altogether of his trouble 
 some guests. 
 
 "In June, 1779, General Heath was elected by con 
 gress a commissioner of the Board of War, with a sala- 
 rv of four thousand dollars per annum, and allowed to 
 retain his rank in the army, which he declined, prefer 
 ring to participate in active operations in the field. 
 
 In the summer of 1780, he was directed, by the com 
 mander in chief, to repair to Rhode-Island, to make ar 
 rangements (or the reception of the French fleet and 
 
JOHX EAGAR HOWARD. 173 
 
 army, which were expected soon to arrive. In his in 
 terview with the Count Rochambeau, and other officers 
 of the French army and navy, he proffered his friendly 
 civilities, and contributed all in his power to their com 
 fortable accommodation, which was productive of a 
 mutual and lasting friendship between them. Indefati 
 gable attention to duty, in the various stations assigned 
 him, was a prominent trait in his character. In May, 
 1781, General Heath was directed, by the commander 
 in chief, to repair to the New-England states, to repre 
 sent to their respective executives the distressing condi 
 tion of our army, and to solicit a speedy supply of pro 
 visions and clothing, in which he was successful. As 
 senior major-general, he was more than once commander 
 of the right wing of our army, and during the absence 
 of the commander in chief, at the siege of Yorktown,he 
 was entrusted with the command of the main army, 
 posted at the Highlands and vicinity, to guard the impor 
 tant works on the Hudson. On the 24th of June, 1784, 
 hostilities having ceased between the two armies, Gen. 
 Washington addressed a letter to General Heath, ex 
 pressing his thanks for his meritorious services, and his 
 great affection and esteem, and on the same day they 
 took their final leave. 
 
 Such was General Heath^s public life. His private 
 one was retired and domestic, amiable, orderly and 
 industrious, but not remarkable for hospitality, or a 
 liberal appropriation of property to public purposes. 
 He died at Roxbury, January 24, 1814, aged 77 years."* 
 
 JOHN EAGAR HOWARD, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 FOR gallantry and firmness, decision of character and 
 sound judgment, Colonel Howard was not exceeded by 
 any officer, of his rank, in the service of his country. 
 With great intelligence, and skill in arms, he was one of 
 those heroic spirits, on whom General Greene reposed 
 his hopes, during the time he was Deepest in adversity. 
 
 *Thacher s Military Journal. 
 
174 JOHN EAGAR HOWARD. 
 
 and iu his high determination, to recover the south; 01 
 perish in the attempt. 
 
 He was born June 4th, 1752, near the city of Balti 
 more. His paternal ancestors were from England, his 
 maternal from Ireland. 
 
 Burning with the generous enthusiasm of the time, 
 Howard was among the first, to enrol himself under the 
 standard of American liberty. He was first in commis 
 sion as a captain, and afterward as major, but he does 
 not appear to have been much in action, until he took 
 his station, at the head of a regiment, in the southern 
 army. 
 
 "Accomplished in tactics, and ripe in experience, al 
 though only now in his twenty-seventh year, he was, in 
 all respects, fitted for the operations of the field. 
 
 Accordingly, no sooner did an opportunity for action 
 present itself, than his valour as a soldier, and his rep 
 utation as a commander, became conspicuous in the 
 midst of the accomplished and the brave. 
 
 His brightest laurel was gathered at the Cowpens, 
 where, assuming to himself the responsibility of the act, 
 he charged, without orders, and, at the point of the bay 
 onet, a party of the enemy, superior in number to his 
 own command, and consisting of the flower of the Brit 
 ish army. ** 
 
 After having thrown the British line into confusion, by 
 his fire und unexpected charge, he called out to them in 
 a loud and commanding voice, to surrender, and they 
 should receive u good quarters." 
 
 On this summons five hundred of them instantly threw 
 down thir arms. 
 
 "His interview, .immediately after the action, with 
 General Morgan, the commanding officer, was eminent 
 ly interesting; and, were other evidence wanting, shows 
 on how precarious a footing, stands the reputation and 
 the life of a warrior. 
 
 "My dear Howard, said Morgan, cordially pressing 
 his hand as he spoke, "you have given me victory, and 
 I love and honour you; but, had you failed in your 
 
 *L\fe of Greene. 
 
JOHN EAGAR HOWARD. 175 
 
 charge, which you risked without orders, I would have 
 shot you." 
 
 Previously to this, Colonel Howard had distinguished 
 himself among those, who, by their gallantry and good 
 conduct, has sustained the character of the American 
 arms, and prevented the utter destruction of the forces, 
 in the battle near Cambridge, where Gates was de 
 feated. 
 
 Nor was he entitled to less applause, for the spirit and 
 judgment, which he afterward displayed, at Guilford, 
 Hodkirk s Hill, and the Eutaw Springs; at the latter of 
 which, he was severely wounded. 
 
 But a letter from General Greene, dated November 
 14th, 1781, to a friend in Maryland, is conclusive, as to 
 the military reputation of Col. Howard. 
 
 "This will be handed to you, (says the general) by 
 Colonel Howard, as good an officer as the world af 
 fords. He has great ability, and the best disposition, to 
 promote the service. My own obligations to him are 
 great the public s still more so. He deserves a statue 
 of gold, no less than the Roman and Grecian heroes. 
 He has been wounded, but has happily recovered, and 
 now goes home, to pay a little attention to his private 
 affairs, and to take charge of the fifth Maryland regi 
 ment, recruiting in your state. 
 
 With great respect, and esteem, 
 
 I am, dear Sir, yours, N. GREENE. 
 
 On the conclusion of the war, he married Miss Chew, 
 daughter of the honourable Benjamin Chew, of Phila 
 delphia. 
 
 Contented and happy in domestic life, and much oc 
 cupied with his private affairs, he has never sought po 
 litical honours, but left to others to govern the country, 
 which he, by his valour, contributed to set free. 
 
 He still resides on his patrimonial estate, surrounded 
 by a large and respectable family, pre-eminent in afflu 
 ence, and passing the evening of his life in that dignified 
 and felicitous retirement, which a high and unsullied 
 reputation, a peaceful conscience, a cultivated intellect, 
 and polished manners alone can bestow. * 
 
 *Life of Greene. 
 
176 PETER HORRY. 
 
 PETER HORRY, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 "THIS officer was a descendant of one of the many 
 Protestant families who removed to Carolina from 
 France, after the revocation of the edict of Nantz. He 
 early took up arms in defence of his country; and 
 through all the trials of peril and privation, experienced 
 by Marion s brigade, gave ample proof of his strict in 
 tegrity and undaunted courage. The fame which he 
 acquired, as one of the band of heroes who defended 
 the post at Sullivan s Island, was never tarnished. For, 
 although in a moment of despondency he once said to 
 his general "I fear our happy days are all gone by; 
 it was not the consequences that might accrue to him 
 self, but the miseries apprehended for his country, that 
 caused the exclamation; for never were his principles 
 shaken; never, even for a moment, did the thought of 
 submission enter his bosom. No man more eagerly 
 sought the foe; none braved danger with greater intre 
 pidity, or more strenuously endeavoured to sustain the 
 military reputation of his country. A ludicrous story is 
 told of him, that, though probably varied in the narra 
 tion, has its foundation in truth. Colonel Horry was 
 once ordered to wait the approach of a British detach 
 ment in ambuscade; a service which he performed with 
 such skill, that he had them completely within his pow 
 er; when from a dreadful impediment in his speech, by 
 which he was afflicted, he could not articulate the 
 word "Jire" In vain he made the attempt, it was,y?,^, 
 ft,fi, but he could get no further. At length irritated 
 almost to madness, he exclaimed " Shoot ^ damn you, 
 shoot you know very well what I would say shoot, 
 shoot, and be damn d to you!" Pie was present in every 
 engagement of consequence, and on all occasions in 
 creased his reputation. At Quinby^Col. Baxter, a gal 
 lant soldier, possessed of great coolness, and still greater 
 simplicity of character, calling out "I am wounded 
 Colonel 1 / Horry replied Think no more of it, Baxter, 
 but stand to your post/ "But I can t stand, Colonel- 
 lam wounded a second time!" "Then lie down Baxter. 
 
.tOHN JAMES. 177 
 
 but quit not your post." "Colonel, cried the (wounded 
 man) "they have shot me again, and if I remain any 
 longer here, I shall be shot to pieces." "Be it so, Bax 
 ter, but stir not." He obeyed the order, and actually 
 received a fourth wound before the engagement ended." 
 
 JOHN JAMES, 
 
 Major in the American Army, 
 
 "WAS born in Ireland, in 1732, and was the son of an 
 officer who had served King William in his wars in Ire* 
 land against King James. This circumstance was the 
 origin of the name of Williamsburg, which is now at 
 tached to one of the districts of Carolina. The elder 
 James, with his family, and several of his neighbours, 
 migrated to this district in 1733, made the first settle 
 ment there, and in honour of King William gave his 
 name to a village laid out on the east bank of Black 
 River. The village is. now called King s Tree, from a 
 white or short-leafed pine, which in old royal grants was 
 reserved for the use of the king; and the name of Will 
 iamsburg has been transferred to the district. To it 
 Major James, when an infant, was brought by his pa 
 rents. His first recollections were those of a stockade 
 fort, and of war between the new settlers and the na 
 tives. The former were often reduced to great straits 
 in procuring the necessaries of life and in defending 
 themselves against the Indians. In this then frontier 
 settlement, Major James, Mr. James Bradley, and other 
 compatriots in the revolution, were trained up to defend 
 and love their countty. Their opportunities for acqui 
 ring liberal education were slender, but for obtaining re 
 ligious instruction were very ample. They were brought 
 up under the eye and pastoral care of the Rev. John 
 Rae, a Presbyterian minister who accompanied his con 
 gregation in their migration from Ireland to Carolina. 
 When the revolution commenced, in 1775, Major James, 
 had acquired a considerable portion both of reputation 
 and property. He was a captain of militia under 
 George the Third. Disapproving of the measures of the 
 British government, he resigned his royal commission. 
 
 Y 
 
178 JOHN JAMES. 
 
 but was soon after reinstated by a popular vote. In the 
 year 1776, he marched, with his company, to the de 
 fence of Charleston. In the year 1779, lie was with 
 Gen. Moultrie on his retreat before Gen. Prevost, and 
 commanded 120 riflemen in the skirmish at Tulifinny, 
 When Charleston was besieged, in 1780, Maj. James 
 inarched to its defence, but Gov. John Rutledge ordered 
 him back to embody the country militia. The town 
 having fallen, he was employed by his countrymen to 
 wait on the conquerors, and to inquire of them what 
 terms they would give. On finding that nothing short 
 of an unconditional submission and resumption of the 
 characters and duties of British subjects, would be ac 
 cepted, he abruptly broke off all negotiation; and, re 
 joining his friends, formed the stamina of the distinguish 
 ed corps known in the latter periods of the revolutionary 
 war by the name of Marion s Brigade. In the course of 
 this cruel and desultory warfare, Major James was redu 
 ced from easy circumstances to poverty. All his move- 
 able property was carried off, and every house on his 
 plantation burnt; but he bore up under these misfortunes, 
 and devoted, not only all his possessions, but life itself 
 for the good of his country. After Greene, as com 
 mander in chief, had superseded Marion, Major James 
 continued to serve under the former, and fought with 
 him at the battle of Eutaw. The corps with which he 
 served consisted mostly of riflemen, and were each serv 
 ed with 24 rounds of cartridges. M;my of them ex 
 pended the whole, and most of them 20 of these in 
 firing on the enemy. As they were in the habit of ta 
 king aim, their shot seldom failed of doing execution. 
 Shortly after this action, Major James and Gen. Marion 
 were both elected members of the state legislature. 
 Before the general had rejoined his brigade, it was unex 
 pectedly attacked, and after retreating was pursued by 
 a party of the British commanded by Col. Thompson, 
 now Count Rum ford. In this retreat, Major James 
 being mounted, was nearly overtaken by two British 
 dragoons, but kept them from cutting him down by a 
 judicious use of his pistols, and escaped by leaping a 
 chasm in a bridge of twenty feet width. The dragoons 
 
HENRY KNOX, 179 
 
 did not follow. The major being out of their reach, 
 rallied his men, brought them back to the charge, and 
 stopped the progress of the enemy. When the war was 
 nearly over, he resigned his commission, and, like an 
 other Cincinnatus, returned to his farm and devoted 
 the remainder of his days to the improvement of his 
 property and the education of his children. In the year 
 1791 he died, with the composure and fortitude of a 
 Christian hero."* 
 
 HEART KNOX, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 FOR the biography of this distinguished soldier of the 
 revolution, and also for that of General Lincoln, which 
 follows, we are indebted to the highly interesting work 
 of James Thacher, M. D. entitled "Military Journal du 
 ring the American Revolutionary War," from which we 
 have extracted them. 
 
 "Among those of our countrymen, who most zealous 
 ly engaged in the cause of liberty, few sustained a rank 
 more deservedly conspicuous, than Gen. Knox. He was 
 one of those heroes, of whom it may be truly said, that 
 he lived for his country. 
 
 Born in Boston, July, 1750, his childhood and youth 
 were employed .n obtaining the best education, that 
 the justly celebrated schools of his native town afforded. 
 In very early life he opened a book store, for the en 
 largement of which he soon formed an extensive cor 
 respondence in Europe but little time elapsed before, 
 at the call of his country, he relinquished this lucrative 
 and increasing business. Indebted to no adventitious 
 aid, his character was formed by himself; the native and 
 vigorous principles of his own mind made him what he 
 was. Distinguished among his associates, from the first 
 dawn of manhood, for a decided predilection to martial 
 exercises, he was, at the age of eighteen, selected by 
 the young men of Boston as one of the officers of a com 
 pany of grenadiers a company so distinguished for its 
 
 *Ramsay s South Carolina. 
 
180 HENRY KNOX. 
 
 martial appearance, and the precision of its evolutions r 
 that it received the most flattering encomium, from a 
 British officer of high distinction. 
 
 This early scene of his military labours, served but as 
 a school for that distinguished talent which afterward 
 shone with lustre, in the most brilliant campaigns of an 
 eight years war; through the whole of which, he di 
 rected the artillery with consummate skill and bravery. 
 
 His heart was deeply engaged in the cause of free 
 dom ; he felt it to be a righteous cause, and to its ac 
 complishment yielded every other consideration. When 
 Britain declared hostilities, he hesitated not a moment, 
 what course he should pursue. No sordid calculation 
 of interest retarded his decision. The quiet of domes 
 tic life, the fair prospect of increasing wealth, and even 
 the endearing claims of family and friends, though urged 
 with the most persuasive eloquence, had no power to 
 divert the determined purpose of his mind. 
 
 In the early stages of British hostility, though not in 
 commission, he was not an inactive spectator. At the 
 battle of Bunker-hill, as a volunteer, he was constantly 
 exposed to danger, in reconnoitering the movements of 
 the enemy, and his ardent mind was engaged with oth 
 ers in preparing those measures that were ultimately to 
 dislodge the British troops, from their boasted posses 
 sion of the capital of New England. 
 
 Scarcely had we began to feel the aggressions of the 
 British arms, before it was perceived, that without ar 
 tillery, of which we were then destitute, the most impor 
 tant objects of the war could not be accomplished. 
 No resource presented itself, but the desperate expedient 
 of procuring it from the Canadian frontier. To attempt 
 this, in the agitated state of the country, through a wide 
 extent of wilderness, was an enterprise so replete with 
 toil and danger, that it was hardly expected any one 
 would be found hardy enough to encounter its perils. 
 Knox, however, saw the importance of the object he 
 saw his country bleeding at every pore, without the 
 power of repelling her invaders he saw the flou. s ling 
 Capital of the North in the possession of an e jlting 
 enemy, that we were destitute of the means essential 
 
HENRY KNOX. 181 
 
 to their annoyance, and formed the daring and gener 
 ous resolution of supplying the army with ordnance, 
 however formidable the obstacles that might oppose 
 him. Young, robust, and vigorous, supported by an un 
 daunted spirit, and a mind ever fruitful in resources, he 
 commenced his mighty undertaking, almost unattended, 
 in the winter of 177. 1 ), relying solely for the execution of 
 his object, on such aid as he might procuie from the 
 thinly scattered inhabitants of the dreary region through 
 which he had to pass. Every obstacle of season, roads 
 and climate were surmounted by determined perseve 
 rance; and a few weeks, scarcely sufficient for a jour 
 ney so remote, saw him return laden with ordnance and 
 the stores of war drawn in defiance of every obstacle 
 over the frozen lakes and mountains of the north. Most 
 acceptable was this offering to our defenceless troops, 
 and most welcome to the commander in chief, who well 
 knew how to appreciate a service so important. This 
 expedition stamped the character of him who performed 
 it for deeds of enterprise and daring. He received the 
 most flattering testimony of approbation from the com 
 mander in chief and from Congress, and was in conse 
 quence of this important service appointed to the com 
 mand of the artillery, of which he had thus laid the 
 foundation, in which command he continued with 
 increasing reputation through the revolutionary war. 
 
 Among the incidents that occurred during the expedi 
 tion to Canada, was his accidental meeting with the 
 unfortunate Andre, whose subsequent fate was so deep 
 ly deplored by every man of feeling in both nations. His 
 deportment as a soldier and gentleman so far interested 
 General Knox in his favour, that he often afterward 
 expressed the most sincere regret, that he was called 
 by duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his con 
 demnation. 
 
 During the continuance of the war, the corps of ar 
 tillery was principally employed with the main body of 
 th army, and near the person of the commander in 
 chief, and was relied on as an essential auxiliary in the 
 most important battles. 
 
182 HENRY KNOX. 
 
 Trenton and Princeton witnessed his enterprise ana 
 valour. At that critical period of our affairs, when 
 hope had almost yielded to despair, and the great soul 
 of Washington, trembled for his country s freedom, 
 Knox was one of those that strengthened his hand, and 
 encouraged his heart. At that awful moment, when 
 the tempest raged with its greatest fury, he with Greene 
 and other heroes, stood as pillars of the Temple of Lib 
 erty, till the fury of the storm was past. 
 
 The letters of General Knox, still extant, written in 
 the darkest periods of the revolution, breathed a spirit 
 of devotedness to the cause in which he had embarked, 
 and a firm reliance on the favour of Divine Providence; 
 from a perusal of these letters it is evident, that he never 
 yielded to despondency, but in the most critical moments 
 of the war, confidently anticipated its triumphant issue. 
 
 In the bloody fields of Germantown and Monmouth, 
 without derogating from the merits of others, it may be 
 said, that during the whole of these hard fought battles, 
 no officer was more distinguished for the discharge of 
 the arduous duties of his command; in the front of the 
 battle, he was seen animating his soldiers and pointing 
 the thunder of their cannon. His skill and bravery were 
 so conspicuous on the latter occasion, that he received 
 the particular approbation of the commander in chief, 
 in general orders issued by him the day succeeding that 
 of the battle, in which he says, that "the enemy have 
 done them the justice to acknowledge, that no artillery 
 could be better served than ours." But his great exer 
 tions on that occasion, together with the extreme heat of 
 the day, produced the most alarming consequences to 
 his health. To these more important scenes, his servi 
 ces were not confined ; with a zeal devoted to our cause, 
 he was ever at the post of danger and the immortal 
 hero, who stands first on the list of heroes and of men, 
 has often expressed his sense of these services. In ev 
 ery field of battle, where Washington fought, Knox was 
 by his side. The confidence of the commander in 
 chief inspired by early services, was thus matured by 
 succeeding events. There can be no higher testimony 
 to his merits, than that during a war of so long continu- 
 
HENRY KNOX. 183 
 
 ance, passed almost constantly in the presence of 
 Washington, he uniformly retained his confidence and 
 esteem, which at their separation had ripened into 
 friendship and affection. The parting interview be 
 tween General Knox and his illustrious and beloved 
 chief, after the evacuation of New York by the British, 
 and Knox had taken possession of it at the head of a 
 detachment of our army, was inexpressibly affecting. 
 The hour of their separation having arrived, Washing 
 ton, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand and em 
 braced him in silence, and in tears. His letters to the 
 last moment of his life, contained the most flattering ex 
 pressions of his unabated friendship. Honourable to 
 himself as had been the career of his revolutionary ser 
 vices, new laurels were reserved for him at the siege of 
 Yorktown. To the successful result of this memorable 
 siege, the last brilliant act of our revolutionary contest, 
 no officer contributed more essentially than the com 
 mander of the artillery. His animated exertions, his 
 military skill, his cool and determined bravery in this 
 triumphant struggle, received the unanimous approba 
 tion of his brethren in arms, and he was immediately 
 created major general by Congress, at the recommenda 
 tion of the commander in chief, with the concurrence of 
 the whole army. 
 
 The capture of Lord Cornwallis closed the contest, 
 and with it his military life. Having contributed so es 
 sentially to the successful termination of the war, he was 
 selected as one of the commissioners to adjust the terms 
 of peace, which service he performed in conjunction 
 with his colleagues, much to the satisfaction of his coun 
 try. He was deputed to receive the surrender of the 
 city of New York, and soon after appointed to the com 
 mand of West Point. It was here that he was employ 
 ed in the delicate and arduous duty of disbanding the 
 army, and inducing a soldiery, disposed to turbulence by 
 their privations and sufferings, to retire to domestic life, 
 and resume the peaceful characters of citizens. 
 
 It is a fact most honourable to his character, that by 
 his countenance and support, he rendered the most essen 
 tial aid to Washington, in suppressing that spirit of 
 
184 HENRY KNOX. 
 
 usurpation which had been industriously fomented by ft 
 few unprincipled and aspiring men, whose aim was the 
 subjugation of the country to a military government. JNo 
 hope of political elevation no flattering assurances of 
 aggrandizement could tempt him to build his greatness 
 on the ruin of his country. 
 
 The great objects of the war being accomplished, and 
 peace restored to our country, General Knox was early, 
 under the confederation, appointed secretary of war by 
 Congress, in which office he w r as confirmed by President 
 Washington, after the establishment of the Federal 
 Government. The duties of this office were ultimately 
 increased, by having those of the navy attached to them ; 
 to the establishment of which his counsel and exertions 
 eminently contributed. He differed in opinion from 
 some other members of the cabinet on this most interest 
 ing subject.* One of the greatest men whom our country 
 has produced, has uniformly declared, that he consider 
 ed America much indebted to his efforts, for the creation 
 of a power which has already so essentially advanced 
 her respectability and fame. 
 
 Having filled the office of the War Department for 
 eleven years, he obtained the reluctant consent of Pres 
 ident Washington to retire, that he might give his atten 
 tion to the claims of a numerous and increasing family. 
 This retirement was in concurrence with the wishes of 
 Mrs. Knox, who had accompanied him through the try 
 ing vicissitudes of war, shared with him its toils and 
 perils, and who was now desirous of enjoying the less 
 busy scenes of domestic life. A portion of the large 
 estates of her ancestor, General Waldo, had descended 
 to her, which he by subsequent purchase increased till it 
 comprised the whole Waldo Patent, an extent of thirty 
 miles square, and embracing a considerable part of that 
 -section of Maine, which now constitutes the counties of 
 Lincoln, Hancock, and Penobscot. To these estates 
 he retired from all concern in public life, honored as a 
 vsoldier and beloved as a man, devoting much of his time 
 to their settlement and improvement. He was induced 
 
 : President Adams. 
 
JflENRY KNOX. 
 
 repeatedly to take a share in the government of the 
 state, both in the house of representatives and in tin? 
 council, in the discharge of whose several duties, he 
 employed his wisdom and experience with the greatest 
 assiduity. 
 
 In 1798, when the French insults and injuries towards 
 this country called for resistance, he was one of those 
 selected to command our armies, and to protect our 
 liberty and honour, from the expected hostilities of the 
 French Directory: happily for our country their services 
 were not required. 
 
 Retired from the theatre of active life, he still felt a 
 deep interest in the prosperity of his country. To that 
 portion of it, which he had chosen for his residence, his 
 exertions were more immediately directed. His views, 
 like his soul, were bold and magnificent; his ardent 
 mind could not want the ordinary course of time and 
 events; it outstripped the progress of natural improve 
 ment. Had he possessed, a cold, calculating mind, he. 
 might have left behind him the most ample wealth; but 
 he would not have been more highly valued by his 
 country, or more beloved by his friends. He died at 
 Montpelier, his seat in Thomaston, 25th of October, 
 1806, from sudden internal inflammation,at the age of 50^ 
 from the full vigour of health. 
 
 The great qualities of General Knox were not merely 
 those of the hero and the statesman; with these were 
 combined those of the elegant scholar and the accom 
 plished gentleman. There have been those as brave 
 and as learned, but rarely a union of such valour, with 
 so much urbanity a mind so great, yet so free from 
 ostentation. 
 
 Philanthropy filled his heart ; in his benevolence there 
 was no reserve it w r as as diffusive as the globe, and 
 extensive as the family of man. His feelings were 
 strong and exquisitely tender. In the domestic circle 
 they shone with peculiar lustre here, the husband, the 
 father, and the friend, beamed in every smile and if at 
 any time a cloud overshadowed his own spirit, he strove 
 to prevent its influence from extending to those that were 
 dear to him. He was frank, generous, and sincere, and 
 
 Z 
 
186 BENJAMIN LINCOLN S 
 
 in his intercours with the world, uniformly just. His 
 house was the seat of elegant hospitality, and his esti 
 mate of wealth, was its power of diffusing happiness. 
 To the testimony of private friendship, may be added 
 that of less partial strangers, who have borne witness, 
 both to his public and private virtues. Lord Moira, 
 who is now perhaps the greatest general that England 
 can boast of, has in a late publication spoken in high 
 terms of his military talents. Nor should the opinion 
 of the Marquis Chattleleux be omitted. "As for Gen. 
 Knox," he says, "to praise him for his military talents 
 alone, would be to deprive him of half the eulogium he 
 merits; a man of understanding, well informed, gay, 
 sincere, and honest it is impossible to know without 
 esteeming him, or to see without loving him. Thus have 
 the English, without intention, added to the ornaments of 
 the human species, by awakening talents where they 
 least wished or expected." Judge Marshall also, in his 
 life of Washington, thus speaks of him: "throughout 
 the contest of the revolution, this off^er had continued 
 at the head of the American artillery, and from being 
 colonel of a regiment, had be^ Promoted to the rank of 
 major general. In this important s.jition he had pre 
 served a high military character, and on the resignation 
 of General Lincoln, had been appointed secretary of 
 war. To his great services, and to unquestionable in 
 tegrity, he was admitted to unite a sound understanding; 
 and the public judgment as well as that of the chief 
 magistrate, pronounced him in all respects competent to 
 the station he filled. The president was highly gratified 
 in believing that his public duty comported with his pri 
 vate inclination, in nominating General Knox to the 
 office which had been confirmed on him under the former 
 government." 
 
 BENJA3IIN LINCOLN, 
 
 Major-Gencral in the American Army. 
 
 ^GENERAL LINCOLN deserves a high rank in the fra* 
 ternity of American heroes. He was born in Hingham, 
 Massachusetts, January 23d, O, S. 1733. His early 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 187 
 
 education was not auspicious to his future eminence, 
 and his vocation was that of a farmer, till he was more 
 than ibrty years of age, though he was commissioned as 
 a magistrate, and elected a representative in the state 
 legislature. In the year 1775, he sustained the office of 
 lieutenant colonel of militia. In 1776, he was appoint 
 ed by the council of Massachusetts a brigadier, and soon 
 after a major general, and he applied himself assiduous 
 ly to training, and preparing the militia for actual ser 
 vice in the field, in which he displayed the military tal 
 ents which he possessed. In October, he marched with 
 a body of militia and joined the main army at New York. 
 The Commander in chief, from a knowledge of his char 
 acter and merit, recommended him to congress as arr 
 excellent officer, and in February, 1777, he was by that 
 honourable body, created a major general on the conti 
 nental esteblishment. For several months he command 
 ed a division, or detachments in the main army, under 
 Washington, and was in situations which required the 
 exercise of the utmost vigilance and caution, as well as 
 firmness and courage. Having the command of about 
 five hundred men in an exposed situation near Bound 
 Brook, through the neglect of his patroles, a large body 
 of the enemy approached within two hundred yards of 
 his quarters undiscovered ; the general had scarcely 
 time to mount and leave the house before it was sur 
 rounded. He led off his troops however, in the face of the 
 enemy, and made good his retreat, though with the loss 
 of about sixty men killed and wounded. One of his aids, 
 with the general s baggage and papers fell into the 
 hands of the enemy, as did also three small pieces of 
 artillery. In July 1777, General Washington selected 
 him to join the northern army under the command of 
 General Gates, to oppose the advance of General Bur- 
 goyne. He took his station at Manchester, in Vermont, 
 to receive and form the New England militia, as they 
 arrived, and to order their march to the rear of the 
 British army. He detached Colonel Brown, with fives 
 hundred men, on the 13th of September, to the landing 
 at Lake George, where he succeeded in surprising the 
 enemy, and took possession of two hundred batteaux,. 
 
188 BENJAMIN LINCOLN- 
 
 liberated one hundred American prisoners, ad captured 
 two hundred and ninety three of the enemy, with the 
 Joss of only three killed and five wounded. This en 
 terprise was of the highest importance, and contributed 
 essentially to the glorious event which followed. Hav 
 ing detached two other parties to the enmy s posts at 
 Mount Independence and Skenesborough, Gen. Lincoln 
 united his remaining force with the army under General 
 Gates, and was the second in command. During the 
 sanguinary conflict on the 7th of October, Gen. Lincoln 
 commanded within our lines, and at one o clock the next 
 morning, he marched with his division to relieve the 
 troops that had been engaged, and to occupy the battle 
 ground, the enemy having retreated. While on this du 
 ty he had occasion to ride forward some distance, to 
 reconnoitre, and to order some disposition of his own 
 troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected 
 movement, and he approached within musket shot before 
 he was aware of his mistake. A whole volley of mus 
 ketry was instantly discharged at him and his aids, and 
 he received a wound by which the bones of his leg were 
 badly fractured, and he was obliged to be carried off 
 the field. The wound was a formidable one, and the 
 loss of his limb was for some time apprehended. He 
 was for several months confined at Albany, and it be 
 came necessary to remove a considerable portion of the 
 main bone before he was conveyed to his house at 
 Hingham, and under this painful surgical operation, the 
 writer of this being present, witnessed in him a degree 
 of firmness and patience not to be exceeded. 4 have 
 known him, says Colonel Rice, who was a member of 
 his military family, during the most painful operation 
 by the surgeon, while bystanders were frequently obliged 
 to leave the room, entertain us with some pleasant an 
 ecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile from his friends." 
 His wound continued several years in an ulcerated 
 state, and by the loss of the bone, the limb was shorten 
 ed, which occasioned lameness during the remainder of 
 his life. 
 
 General Lincoln certainly afforded very important 
 assistance in the capture of Burgoyne, though it was his 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 unfortunate lot, while in active duty, to be disabled be 
 fore he could participate in the capitulation. Though 
 his recovery was not complete, he repaired to head 
 quarters in the following August, and was joyfully re 
 ceived by the commander in chief, who well knew how 
 to. appreciate his merit. It was from a development of 
 his estimable character as a man, and his talents as a 
 military commander, that he was designated by con 
 gress for the arduous duties of the chief command in the 
 southern department under innumerable embarrass 
 ments. On his arrival at Charleston, December, 1778, 
 he found that he had to form an army, to provide sup 
 plies, and to arrange the various departments, that he 
 might be able to cope with an enemy consisting of expe 
 rienced officers and veteran troops. This it is obvious, 
 required a man of superior powers, indefatigable perse 
 verance, and unconquerable energy. Had not these 
 been his inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded 
 to the formidable obstacles which opposed his progress. 
 About the 28th of December, General Prevost arrived 
 with a fleet, and about three thousand British troops, 
 and took possession of Savannah, after routing a small 
 party of Americans, under General Robert Howe. 
 General Lincoln immediately put his troops in motion, 
 and took post on the eastern side of the river, about 
 twenty miles from the city ; but he was not in force to 
 commence offensive operations, till the last of February. 
 In April, with the view of covering the upper part of 
 Georgia, he marched to Augusta, after which Prevost. 
 the British commander, crossed the river into Carolina, 
 and marched for Charleston. General Lincoln, there 
 fore, recrossed the Savannah, and followed his route, 
 and on his arrival near the city, the enemy had retired 
 from before it during the previous night. A detachment 
 of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, 
 under Lieutenant Colonel Maitland, being posted at 
 Stone Ferry, where they had erected works for their 
 defence, General Lincoln resolved to attack them, which 
 he did on the 19th of June. The contest lasted one 
 hour and twenty minutes, in which he lost one hundred 
 and sixty men killed and wounded, and the enemy 
 
190 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 suffered about an equal loss. Their works were found 
 to be much stronger than had been represented, and our 
 artillery proving too light to annoy them, and the enemy 
 receiving a reinforcement, our troops were obliged to 
 retire. 
 
 The next event of importance which occurred with 
 our general, was the bold assault on Savannah, in con 
 junction with the count D Estaing. General Prevost 
 had again possessed himself of that city, and Count 
 D Estaing, arrived with his fleet and armament in the 
 beginning of September, 1779. Having landed nearly 
 three thousand French troops, General Lincoln immedi 
 ately united about one thousand men to his force. The 
 prospect of success was highly flattering, but the enemy 
 exerted all their efforts in strengthening their lines, and 
 after the count had summoned the garrison, and while 
 Prevost was about to arrange articles of capitulation, 
 he received a reinforcement. It was now resolved to 
 attempt the place by a regular siege, but various causes 
 occasioned a delay of several days, and when it com 
 menced, the canonade and bombardment failed of pro 
 ducing the desired effect, and the short time allowed the 
 count on our coast, was quite insufficient for reducing the 
 garrison by regular approaches. The commanders con 
 cluded therefore, to make an effort on the works by as 
 sault. On the 9th of October, in the morning, the troops 
 were led on by D Estaing and Lincoln united, while a 
 column led by Count Dillon missed their route in the 
 darkness, and failed of the intended co-operation. A- 
 midst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the 
 allied troops forced the abbatis, and planted two stan 
 dards on the parapets. But being overpowered at the 
 point of attack, they were compelled to retire; the 
 French having seven hundred, the Americans two hun 
 dred and forty killed and wounded. The Count Pulas- 
 ki, at the head of a body of our horse, was mortally 
 wounded. 
 
 General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and en 
 deavoured to put that city in a posture of defence, 
 urgently requesting of congress a reinforcement of regu 
 lar troops, and additional supplies, which were but par 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 191 
 
 tially complied with. In February, 1780, General Sir 
 Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formidable force in 
 the vicinity, and on the 30th of March encamped in 
 front of the American lines at Charleston. Consider 
 ing the vast superiority of the enemy, both in sea and 
 land forces, it might be questioned whether prudence 
 and correct judgment, would dictate an attempt to de 
 fend the city; it will not be supposed however, that the 
 determination was formed without the most mature de 
 liberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. It is 
 well known that the general was in continual expecta 
 tion of an augmentation of strength by reinforcements. 
 On the 10th of April, the enemy having made some ad 
 vances, summoned the garrison to an unconditional 
 surrender, which was promptly refused. A heavy and 
 incessant cannonade was sustained on each side, till 
 the llth of May, when the besiegers had completed 
 their third parallel line, and having made a second de 
 mand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed on. 
 
 It is to be lamented that, with all the judicious and 
 vigorous efforts in his power, General Lincoln was re 
 quited only by the frowns of fortune, whereas had he 
 been successful in his bold enterprise and views, he 
 would have been crowned with unfading laurels. But 
 notwithstanding a series of disappointments and unfor 
 tunate occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor was 
 his judgment or merit called in question. He retained 
 his popularity, and the confidence of the army, and was 
 considered as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of 
 soldiers. 
 
 In the campaign of 1781, General Lincoln commanded 
 a division under Washington, and at the siege of York- 
 town he had his full share of the honour of that brill 
 iant and auspicious event. The articles of capitulation 
 stipulated for the same honour in favour of the surren 
 dering army, as had been granted to the garrison of 
 Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to conduct 
 them to the field where their arms were deposited, and 
 received the customary submission. In the general 
 order of the commander in chief the day after the ca 
 pitulation, General Lincoln was among the genera! 
 
192 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 officers whose services were particularly mentioned. In 
 October, 1781, he was chosen by congress secretary of 
 war, retaining his rank in the army. In this office he 
 continued till October, 1783, when his proffered resig 
 nation was accepted by congress. 
 
 Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public 
 employment, he retired and devoted his attention to his 
 farm; but in 1784, he was chosen one of the commis 
 sioners and agents on the part of the state to make and 
 execute a treaty with the Penobscot Indians. When in 
 the year 1786 7, the authority of our state government 
 was in a manner prostrated, and the country alarmed 
 by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the 
 guidance of Shays and Day, General Lincoln was ap 
 pointed by the governor and council, to command a 
 detachment of militia, consisting of four or five thousand 
 men, to oppose their progress, and to compel them to a 
 submission to the laws. He marched from Boston on 
 the 20th of January, into the counties of Worcester, 
 Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had 
 erected their standard. They were embodied in con 
 siderable force, and manifested a determined resistance, 
 and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a party 
 of militia under General Shepherd. Lincoln, however, 
 conducted with such address and energy, that the in 
 surgents were routed from one town to another, till 
 they were completely dispersed in all directions; and by 
 his wise and prudent measures the insurrection was hap 
 pily suppressed without bloodshed, excepting a few in 
 dividuals who were slain under General Shepherd s 
 command. 
 
 He was a member of the convention for ratifying the 
 federal constitution, and in the summer of 1789, he re 
 ceived from President Washington the appointment of 
 collector of -..*<?. port of Boston, which office he sustained 
 till being admonished by the increasing infirmities of 
 age, he requested permission to resign. 
 
 Having after his resignation of the office of collector 
 passed about two years in retirement, and in trauquility 
 of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he re 
 ceived a short attack of disease by which his honourable 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 193 
 
 fife was terminated on the 9th of May, 1810, aged 77 
 years. 
 
 The following tribute is on the records of the society 
 of Cincinnati. "At the annual meeting in July, 1810, 
 Major General John Brooks was chosen president of 
 the society, to supply the place of our venerable and 
 much lamented president, General Benjamin Lincoln, 
 who had presided over the society from the organiza 
 tion thereof, in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, tlve day 
 of his decease, with the entire approbation of every 
 member, and the grateful tribute of his surviving com- 
 rads, for his happy guidance and affectionate attentions 
 during so long a period.* 
 
 While at Purysburg, on the Savannah River, a sol 
 dier named Fielding, having been detected in frequent 
 attempts to desert, was tried and sentenced to be hang 
 ed. The general ordered the execution. The rope 
 broke; a second was procured which broke also; the 
 case was reported to the general for directions. " Let 
 him run," said the general, " Ithought he looked like a 
 scape-gallows." 
 
 Major Garden, in his anecdotes of the American rev 
 olution, relates the story with some addition. It hap 
 pened that, as Fickling was led to execution, the surgeon 
 general of the army passed accidentally, on his way -to 
 his quarters, which were at some distance. H^hen the 
 second rope was procured, the adjutant of the regiment, 
 a stout and heavy man, assayed by eve*y means to 
 break it, but without effect. Fickling w<*s then halter 
 ed, and again turned off, when, to the astonishment of 
 the bystanders, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second 
 time uninjured to the ground. A cry for mercy was now 
 general throughout the ranks, which occasioned Major 
 Ladson, aid-de-camp to General Lincoln, to gallop to 
 head-quarters, to make a representation of facts 
 which were no sooner stated, th in an immediate 
 pardon was granted, accompanied with an order 
 that he should instantaneously be drummed, with eve 
 ry mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with 
 instant death, if he ever should be found attempting to 
 approach it. In che interim, the surgeon-general had 
 
 A 
 
J94 JOHN LAURENS. 
 
 established himself at his quarters, in a distant barn, 
 little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, 
 and Fielding quietly resting in his grave. Midnight was 
 at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when 
 hearing the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, 
 and saw with astonishment the figure of the man, who 
 had in his opinion been executed, slowly and with hag 
 gard countenance, approaching towards him. " How! 
 how is this?" exclaimed the doctor, "whence come you? 
 what do you want with me? were yon not hanged this 
 morning?" "Yes, sir," replied the resuscitated man, 
 "I am the wretch you saw going to the. gallows, and who 
 was hanged." "Keep your distance," said the doctor, 
 "approach me not till, you say why you come here." 
 "Simply, sir," said the supposed spectre, "to solicit food. 
 I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice, while the 
 executioner was doing his office, and the general thought 
 proper to pardon me." "If that be the case," rejoined 
 the doctor, "eat and be welcome ; but I beg of you in 
 future to have a little more consideration, and not in 
 trude so unceremoniously into the apartment of one, 
 who had every right to suppose you an inhabitant of the 
 tomb."* 
 
 JOHN LAURRNS, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 "SoN of Ii^nry Laurens, was born in Charleston, in 
 1755. In yoiuh he discovered that energy of character 
 which distinguished him through life. When a lad, 
 though labouring under a fever, on the cry of fire, he 
 leaped from his bed, hastened to the scene of danger, 
 and was in a few minutes on the top of the exposed hou 
 ses, risking his life to arrest the progress of the flames. 
 This is the more worthy of notice, for precisely in the 
 same way, and under a similar, but higher impulse of 
 ardent patriotism, ht lost his life in the year 1782. 
 
 At the age of sixtetn he was taken to Europe by his 
 father, and there put under the best means of insruction 
 in Geneva, and afterward m London. 
 
 *Thacher s Military Journal. 
 
JOHN LAURENS 195 
 
 He was enten-a Q student of law at the temple in 
 1774, and was daily imping j n i ega i knowledg till 
 the disputes hetween Great Britain <xnd her colonies ar 
 rested his attention. He soon found that the claims of 
 the mother country struck at the root of liberty in the 
 colonies, and that she perseveringly resolved to enforce 
 these claims at every hazard. Fain would he have 
 come out to join his countrymen inarms at the com 
 mencement of the contest; hut the peremptory older of 
 his father enjoined his continuance in England, to prose 
 cute his studies and finish his education. As a dutiful 
 son he obeyed these orders; but as a patriot, burning 
 with desire to defend his country, he dismissed Coke, 
 Littleton, and all the tribe of jurists, and substituted in 
 their place Vauban, Folard, and other writers on war. 
 He also availed himself of the excellent opportunities 
 which London affords of acquiring practical knowledge 
 of the manual exercise, of tactics, and the mechanism 
 of war. Thus instructed, as soon as he was a freeman 
 of legal age, he quitted England for France, and by a 
 circuitous voyage in neutral vessels, and at a considerble 
 risk, made his way good, in the year 1777, to Charleston. 
 Independence had been delared the American army 
 was raised, officered, and in the field. He who, by his 
 attainments in general science, and particularly in the 
 military art, deserved high rank, had no ordinary door 
 left open to serve his country, but by entering in the low 
 est grade of an army abounding with officers. General 
 Washington, ever attentive to merit, instantly took him 
 into his family as a supernumerary aid-de-camp. Short 
 ly after this appointment, he had an opportunity of in 
 dulging his military ardour. He fought and was woun 
 ded in the battle of Germantown, October 4th, 1777. 
 He continued in General Washington s family in the 
 middle states till the British had retreated from Phila 
 delphia to New York, and was engaged in the battle of 
 Monmouth, June 28, 1778 
 
 .After this, the war being transferred more northward 
 ly, he was indulged in attaching himself to the army on 
 Rhode-Island, where the most active operations were ex 
 pected soon to take place. There he was intrusted with 
 
196 JOHN LAUREN9. 
 
 the command of some light troops. Th* Bravery and good 
 conduct which he displayed ^iis occasion was hon 
 oured by congress. 
 
 On the 5th of November, 1778, they resolved, "that 
 John Laurens, Esq. ad-de-camp to General Washington, 
 be presented with a continental commission of lieuten 
 ant colonel, in testimony of the sense which congress 
 entertain of his patriotic and spirited services as a vol 
 unteer in the American army; and of his brave conduct 
 in several actions, particularly in that of Rhode-Island, 
 on the 29th of Angust last; and that Gen. Washington 
 be directed, whenever an opportunity shall offer, to give 
 Lieutenant Colonel Laurens command agreeable to his 
 rank." On the next day, a letter from Lieutenant Col, 
 Laurens was read in congress, expressing "his gratitude 
 for the unexpected honour which congress were pleased 
 to confer on him by the resolution passed the day be 
 fore ; and the high satisfaction it would have afforded 
 him, could he have accepted it without injuring the 
 rights of the officers in the line of the army, and doing 
 an evident injustice to his colleagues in the family of 
 the commander in chief that having been a spectator 
 of the convulsions occasioned in the army by disputes of 
 rank, he held the tranquilky of it too dear to be instru 
 mental in disturbing it, and therefore entreated congress 
 to suppress the resolve of yesterday, ordering him a 
 commission of lieutenant-colonel, and to accept his sin 
 cere thanks for the intended honour." In this relinquish- 
 ment there was a victory gained by patriotism over self 
 love. Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens loved military fame 
 and rank; but he loved his country more, and sacrificed 
 the former to preserve the peace and promote the inter 
 ests of the latter. 
 
 In the next year the British derected their military 
 operations chiefly against the most southern states. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel John Laurens was induced by double 
 motives to repair to Carolina. The post of danger was 
 always the object of his preference. His native state 
 was become the theatre of war. To its aid he repaired, 
 and in May 1779 with a party of light troops, had a 
 skirmish with the British at Tulifinny. In endeavouring 
 
JOHN LAURENS. 197 
 
 to obstruct their progress towards Charleston, he re 
 ceived a wound. This was no sooner cured than he 
 rejoined the army, and was engaged in the unsuccessful 
 attack at Savannah, on the 9th of October of the same 
 year. To prepare for the defence of Charleston, the 
 reduction of which was know to be contemplated by 
 the British, was the next object of attention among the 
 Americans. To this Colonel Laurens dovoted all the 
 energies of his active mind. 
 
 In the progress of the siege, which commenced in 
 1780, the success of defensive operations became doubt 
 ful. Councils of war were frequent several of the 
 citizens were known to winh for a surrender as a ter 
 mination of their toils and dangers. In these councils, 
 and on proper occasions, Colonel Laurens advocated 
 the abandonment of the front lines, and to retire to new 
 ones, to be erected within the old ones, and to risk an 
 assault. When these spirited measures were opposed 
 on the suggestion that the inhabitants preferred a ca 
 pitulation, he declared that he would direct his sword 
 to the heart of the first citizen who would urge a ca 
 pitulation againt the opinion of the commander in chief. 
 
 When his superior officers, convinced of the ineffica- 
 cy of further resistance, were disposed to surrender on 
 terms of capitulation, he yielded to the necessity of the 
 case, and became a prisoner of war. This reverse of 
 fortune opened a new door for serving his country in a 
 higher line than he ever yet had done. He was soon 
 exchanged, and reinstated in a capacity for acting. In 
 expediting his exchange, congress had the ulterior view 
 of sending him a special minister to Paris, that he might 
 urge the necessity of a vigorous co-operation on the 
 part of France with the United States against Great 
 Britain. When this was proposed to Colonel Laurens, 
 he recommended and urged that Colonel Alexander 
 Hamilton should be employed in preference to himself. 
 Congress a^ped to their first choice. 
 
 Coloneljaiirens sailed for France in the latter end 
 of 1780: ^p there, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, 
 and Count de Vergennes, and Marquis de Castries, ar 
 ranged the plan of the campaign for 1781 : which 
 
198 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 eventuated in the surrender of Lord Tornwallis, and 
 finally in a termination of the war. Within six months 
 from the day Colonel Laurens left America, he returned 
 to it, and brought with him the concerted plan of com 
 bined operations. Ardent to rejoin the army, he was 
 indulged with making a verbal report of his negotia 
 tions to congress; and in three days set out to resume 
 his place as one of the aids of Washington. The Amer 
 ican and French army, about this time commenced the 
 siege of Yorktown. In the course of it, Colonel Laurens, 
 as second in command, with his fellow aid,Col. Hamilton, 
 assisted in storming and taking an advanced British 
 redoubt, which expedited the surrender of Lord Corn- 
 wallis. The articles of capitulation were arranged by 
 Col. Laurens on behalf of the Americans. 
 
 Charleston and a part of South Carolina still remain 
 ed in the power of the British. Colonel Laurens thought 
 nothing done while any thing remained undone. He 
 therefore, on the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, repaired 
 to South Carolina, and joined the southern army com 
 manded by General Greene. In the course of the sum 
 mer of 1782 he caught a common fever, and was sick in 
 bed when an expedition was undertaken against a party 
 of the British, which had gone to Combakee to carry off 
 rice. Col. Laurens rose from his sick bed and joined 
 his countrymen. While leading an advanced party, he 
 received a shot which, on the 27th of August, 1782, at 
 the close of the war, put an end to his valuable life, in 
 the 27th year of his age. His many virtues have been 
 ever since the subject of eulogy, and his early fall, of 
 national lamentation. The fourth of July seldom pass 
 ed without a tribute to his memory."* 
 
 CHARLES LEE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. LEE was an original genius, posseAig the most 
 brilliant talents, great military prowess, a^kextensive 
 intelligence and knowledge of the worlo^ He was 
 
 * Ramsay s South Carolina. 
 
GHARLES LEE. 199 
 
 born in Wales his family springing from the same parent 
 stock with the Earl of Leicester. 
 
 He may be properly called a child of Mars, for he 
 was an officer when but eleven years old. His favour 
 ite study was the science of war, and his warmest wish 
 was to become distinguished in it-; but though possessed 
 of a military spirit, he was ardent in the pursuit of gener 
 al knowledge. He acquired a competent skill in Greek 
 and Latin, while his fondness for travelling made him 
 acquainted with the Italian, Spanish, German, and 
 French languages. 
 
 In 1756, he came to America, captain of a company 
 of grenadiers, and was present at the defeat of General 
 Abercombie, at Ticonderoga, where he received a se 
 vere wound. In 1762, he bore a colonel s commission, 
 and served under Burgoyne at Portugal, where he great 
 ly distinguished himself, and received the stongest re 
 commendations, for his gallantry; but his early attach 
 ment to the American colonies, evinced in his writings 
 against the oppressive acts of parliament, lost him the 
 favour of the ministry. Despairing of promotion, and 
 despising a life of inactivity, he left his native soil and 
 entered into the service of his Polish majesty, as one of 
 his aids, with the rank of major-general. 
 
 His rambling disposition led him to travel all over 
 Europe, during the years of 1771, 1772, and part of 
 1773, and his warmth of temper drew him into several 
 rencounters, among which was an affair of honour with 
 an officer in Italy. The contest was begun with swords, 
 when the general lost two of his fingers. Recourse was 
 then had to pistols. His adversary was slain, and he 
 was obliged to flee from the country, in order that he 
 might avoid the unpleasant circumstances which might 
 result from this unhappy circumstance. 
 
 General Lee appeared to be influenced by an innate 
 principle of republicanism ; an attachment to these prin 
 ciples was implanted in the constitution of his mind, 
 and he esp^|ed the cause of America as a champion of 
 her emanc^ption from oppression. 
 
 Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked for this 
 country, and arrived at New York on the 10th of Nov< 
 
200 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 1773. On his arrival, he became daily more enthusias 
 tic in the cause of liberty, and travelled rapidly through 
 the colonies animating, both by conversation and his elo 
 quent pen, to a determined and persevering resistance to 
 British tyranny. 
 
 His enthusiasm in favour of the rights of the colonies 
 was such, that, after the battle of Lexington; he accep- 
 ted a major-general s commission in the American army; 
 though his ambition had pointed out to him the post of 
 commander in chief, as the object of his wishes. Pre 
 vious to this, however he resigned his commission in the 
 British service, and relinquished his half pay. This he 
 did in a letter to the British secretary at war, in which 
 he expressed his disapprobation of the oppressive meas 
 ures of parliament, declaring them to be so absolutely 
 subversive of the rights and liberties of every individual 
 subject, so destructive to the whole empire at large, and 
 ultimately so ruinous to his majesty s own person, dig 
 nity, and family, that he thought himself obliged in con 
 science, as a citizen, Englishman, and soldier of a free 
 state, to exert his utmost to defeat them." 
 
 Immediately upon receiving his appointment, he ac 
 companied General Washington to the camp at Cam 
 bridge, where he arrived July 2d, 1775, and was re 
 ceived with every mark of respect. 
 
 As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that the 
 British General Clinton had left Boston, General Lee 
 was ordered to set forward, to observe his manoeuvres, 
 and prepare to meet him in any part of the continent he 
 might visit. No man was better qualified, at this early 
 stage of the war, to penetrate the designs of the enemy, 
 than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well versed in 
 European tactics, the soldiers believed him, of all other 
 officers, the best able to face in the field an experienced 
 British veteran, and lead them on to victory. 
 
 New-York was supposed to be the object of the ene 
 my, and hither he hastened with all possible expedition. 
 Immediately, on his arrival, Lee took thomost active 
 and prompt measures, to put in a state of ^pence. He 
 disarmed all suspected persons, within the reach of his 
 command, and proceeded with such rigour against the 
 
CHARLES LEE. 201 
 
 txmes, as to give alarm at his assumption of military 
 powers. From the tories he exacted a strong oath, and 
 his bold measures carried terror wherever he appeared. 
 
 "Not long after he was appointed to the command of 
 the southern department, and in his travels through the 
 country, he received every testimony of high respect 
 from the people. General Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir 
 Peter Parker, with a powerful fleet and army, attempt 
 ed the reduction of Charleston, while he was in the 
 command. The fleet anchored within half musket-shot 
 of the fort on Sullivan s Island; where Col. Moultrie, 
 one of the bravest and most intrepid of men, command 
 ed. A tremendous engagement ensued on the 28th of 
 June, 1776, which lasted twelve hours without intermis 
 sion. The whole British force was completely repulsed, 
 after suffering an irreparable loss. > . 
 
 Gen. Lee and Col. Moultrie received the thanks of 
 Congress for their signal bravery and gallantry. 
 
 Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of his milita 
 ry glory; the eclat of his name alone appeared to en 
 chant and animate the most desponding heart. But 
 here we pause to contemplate the humiliating reverse 
 of human events. He returned to the main army in 
 October; and in marching at the head of a large de 
 tachment through the Jerseys, having, from a desire of 
 retaining a separate command, delayed his march sev 
 eral days, in disobedience of express ord-ers from the 
 commander in chief, he was guilty of most culpable 
 negligence in regard to his personal security. He took 
 up his quarters two or three miles from the main body, 
 and lay for the night, December 13th, 1776, in a careless, 
 exposed situation. Information of this being commu 
 nicated to Colonel Harcourt, who commanded the Brit 
 ish light-horse, he proceeded immediately to the house, 
 fired into it, and obliged the general to surrender him 
 self a prisoner. They mounted him on a horse in haste, 
 without his cloak or hat, and conveyed him in triumph 
 to New-York."* 
 
 *Thacher s Military Journal. 
 
 B2 
 
202 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 Lee was treated, while a prisoner, with great severity 
 by the enemy, who affected to consider him as a state 
 prisoner and deserter from the service of his Britannic 
 majesty, and denied the privileges of an American offi 
 cer. Gen. Washington promptly retaliated the treat 
 ment received by Lee upon the British officers in his 
 possession. This state of things existed until the cap 
 ture of Burgoyne, when a complete change of treatment 
 was observed towards Lee; and he was shortly after 
 ward exchanged. 
 
 The first military act of Gen. Lee, after his exchange, 
 closed his career in the American army. Previous to 
 the battle of Monmouth, his character in general was 
 respectable. From the beginning of the contest, his 
 un remitter! zeal in the cause of America excited and 
 directed the military spirit of the whole continent-, and 
 his conversation inculcated the principles of liberty 
 among all rants of the people. 
 
 His important services excited the warm gratitude of 
 many of the friends of America. Hence it is said that 
 a strong party was formed in congress, and by some dis 
 contented officers in the army, to raise Lee to the first 
 command: and it has been suggested by many, that 
 General Lee s conduct at the battle of Monmouth was 
 intended to effect this plan: for could the odium of the 
 defeat have been at this time thrown on General Wash 
 ington, there is great reason to suppose that he would 
 have been deprived of his command. 
 
 It is now to be seen how General Lee terminated his 
 military career. In the brittle of Monmouth. on the 2th 
 of June, 1778, he commanded the van of the American 
 troops, with orders from the commander in chief to at 
 tack the retreating enemy. Instead of obeying this 
 order, he conducted in -in unworthy manner, and greatly 
 disconcerted the arrangements of the day. Washing 
 ton, advancing to the field of battle, met him in his dis 
 orderly retreat, and accosted him with strong expres 
 sions of disapprobation. Lee, incapable of , brooking 
 even an implied indignity, and unable to restrain the 
 warmth of his resentment, used improper language in 
 return, and some irritation wa^excited on both sides. 
 
CHARLES LEE. 103 
 
 The following letters immediately after passed between 
 Lee and the commander in chief. 
 
 Camp, English Town, \st July, 1778. 
 SIR From the knowledge that I have of your Excel 
 lency s character, I must conclude that nothing but the 
 misinformation of some very stupid, or misrepresenta 
 tion of some very wicked person, could have occasioned 
 your making use of such very singular expressions as 
 you did, on my coming up to the ground where you h,.d 
 taken post: they implied that [ was guily eitrur of diso 
 bedience of orders, want of conduct, or want of cour 
 age. Your Excellency will, therefore, infinitely oblige 
 me, by letting me know on which of these three articles 
 you ground your charge, that I may prepare for my jus 
 tification; which I have the happiness to be confident I 
 can do, to the army, to the congress, to America, and 
 to the world in general. Your Excellency must give me 
 leave to observe, that neither yourself, nor those about 
 your person, could, from your situation, be in the least 
 judges of the merits or demerits of our manoeuvres; and, 
 to speak with a becoming pride, I can assert that to 
 these manoeuvres the success of the day was entirely 
 owing. I can boldly say, that, had we remained on the 
 first ground or had we advanced or had the retreat 
 been conducted in a manner different from what it was, 
 this whole army, and the interests of America, would 
 have risked being sacrificed. I ever had, and, I hope, 
 ever shall have, the greatest respect and veneration for 
 General Washington; I think him endued with many 
 great and good qualities; but in this instance I must pro 
 nounce, that he has been guilty of an act of cruel injus 
 tice towards a man, who had certainly some pretensions 
 to the regatd of every servant of his country ; and 1 think, 
 sir, I have a right to demand some reparation for the 
 injury committed; and unless I can obtain it, I must, in 
 justice to myself, when the campaign is closed, which I 
 believe will close the war, retire from a service, at the 
 head of which is placed a man capable of offering such 
 inj iries; but at the same time, in justice to you. I must 
 repeat that I. from my soul, believe that it was not a 
 
104 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 motion of your own breast, but instigated by some of 
 those dirty earwigs, who will for ever insinuate them 
 selves near persons in high office; for I am really assu 
 red that, when General Washington acts from himself, 
 no man in his army will have reason to complain of 
 injustice and indecorum. 
 
 I am, sir, and 1 hope ever shall have reason to con 
 tinue, Yours, &c. 
 
 CHARLES LEE. 
 His Excellency Gen. Washington. 
 
 Head Quarters, English Town, 28th June, 1778. 
 
 SIR I received your letter, dated through mistake 
 the 1st of July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms highly 
 improper. I am not conscious of having made use of 
 any singular expressions at the time of my meeting yon, 
 as you intimate. What 1 recollect to have said was 
 dictated by duty, and warranted by the occasion. As 
 soon as circumstances will admit, you shall have an op 
 portunity, either of justifying yourself to the army, to 
 Congress, to America, and to the world in general, or 
 of convincing them that you are guilty of a breach of 
 orders, and of misbehaviour before the enemy on the 
 28th instant, in not attackingthem as you had been di 
 rected, and in making an unnecessary, disorderly, and 
 shameful retreat. 
 
 I am, sir, your most obedient servant., 
 
 G. \\ ASHINGTON. 
 
 A court martial, of which Lord Stirling was president, 
 was ordered for his trial, and after a masterly defence 
 by General Lee, found him guilty of all the charges, and 
 sentenced him to be suspended from any command in 
 the army for the term of twelve months. This sentence 
 was shortly afterward confirmed by congress. 
 
 When promulgated, it was like a mortal wound to the 
 lofty, aspiring spirit of General Lee; pointing to his 
 dog he exclaimed "Oh that I was that animal, that I 
 might not call man my brother." He became outrage 
 ous, and from that moment he was more open and viru 
 lent in his attack on the character of the Commander 
 
CHARLES LEE. 205 
 
 in chief, and olid not cease in his unwearied endeavours 
 both in his conversation and writings to lessen his repu 
 tation in the estimation of the army, and the public. 
 He was an active abettor of General Convvay, in his 
 calumny and abuse of General Washington, and they 
 were believed to be in concert in their vile attempts to 
 supersede his Excellency in the supreme command. 
 With the hope of effecting his nefarious purpose, he 
 published a pamphlet replete with scurrilous imputations 
 unfavourable to the military talents of the Commander 
 in chief, but this, with his other malignant allegations, 
 was consigned to contempt. 
 
 At length Colonel Laurens, one of General Washing 
 ton s aids, unable longer to suffer this gross abuse of his 
 illustrious friend, demanded of Lee that satisfaction 
 which custom has sanctioned as honourable. A ren 
 counter accordingly ensued, and Lee received a wound 
 in his side. 
 
 Lee now\ finding himself abandoned by his friends, 
 degraded in the eye of the public, and despised by the 
 wise and virtuous, retired to his sequestered plantation 
 in Virginia. In this spot, secluded from all society, he 
 lived in a sort of hovel without glass windows or plas- 
 teri v ^g, or even a decent article of house furniture; here 
 he amused himself with*his books and dogs. On Janua 
 ry 10th, 1780, congress resolved that Major-General 
 Lee be informed that they have no further occasion for 
 his services in the army of the United States. In the 
 autumn of 1782, wearied with his forlorn situation, and 
 broken spirit, he resorted to Philadelphia, and took 
 lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon seized 
 with a disease of the lungs, and after a few days con 
 finement, he terminated his mortal course, a martyr to 
 chagrin and disappointment, October 2d, 1782. The 
 last words which he was heard to utter were, "stand by 
 me, my brave grenadiers." 
 
 General Lee .was rather above the middle size, 
 "plain in his person even to ugliness, and careless in his 
 manners even to a degree of rudeness; his nose was so 
 remarkably aquiline, that it appeared as a real defor 
 mity. His voice was rough, his garb ordinary, his de- 
 
200 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 portment morose. He was ambitious of fame without 
 the dignity to support it. In private life he sunk into the 
 vulgarity of the clown." His remarkable partiality 
 for dogs, was such, that a number of these animals con 
 stantly followed in his train, and the ladies complained 
 that he allowed his canine adherents to follow him in the 
 parlour, and not unfrequently a favorite one might be 
 Seen on a chair next his elbow at table. 
 
 In the year 1776, when our army lay at White Plains, 
 Lee resided near the road which General Washington 
 frequently passed, and he one day with his aids called 
 and took dinner: after they had departed, Lee said to 
 his aids, "you must look me out other quarters, or I shall 
 have Washington and his puppies calling till they eat 
 me up." The next day he ordered his servant to write 
 with chalk on the door, "no victuals cooked here to 
 day." The company, seeing the hint on the door, pas 
 sed with a smile at the od lity of the man. "The char 
 acter of this person," says one who knew him well, "is 
 full of absurdities and qualities of a most extraordinary 
 nature."* 
 
 While in Philadelphia shortly before his death, the 
 following ludicrous circumstance took place, which cre 
 ated no small diversion. 
 
 The late Judge Brackenridge, whose poignancy of 
 satire and eccentricity of character was nearly a match 
 for that of the General, had dipped his pen in some gall, 
 which greatly irritated Lee s feelings, insomuch thai he 
 challenged him to single combat, which Brackenridge 
 declined in a very eccentric reply. Lee, having furnish 
 ed himself with aj.iprsewhip, determined to chastise him 
 ignominiously on the very first opportunity. Observing 
 Brackenridge going down Market-street, a few days 
 after, he gave him chase, and Brackenridge took refuse 
 in a public house, and barricadoed the door of the room 
 he entered. A number of persons collected to see the 
 result. Lee damned him, and invited him to come out 
 and fight him like a man. Brackenridge replied, that 
 he did not like to be shot at, and made some other 
 
 ""Thatcher s Journal. 
 
CHARLES LEE. 207 
 
 curious observations, which only increased Lee s irrita 
 tion, and the mirth of the spectators. Lee, with the most 
 bitter imprecation, ordered him to come out, when he 
 said he would horsewhip him. Brarkenridge replied, 
 that he had no occasion for a discipline of that kind. 
 The amusing scene lasted some time, until at length 
 Lee, finding that he could accomplish no other object 
 than calling forth Brackenridge s wit for the amusement 
 of the by-standers, retired. 
 
 General Lee was master of a most genteel address, 
 but was rude in his manners, and excessively negligent 
 in his appearance and behaviour. His appetite was so 
 whimsical, that he was every where a most troublesome 
 guest. Two or three dogs usually followed him wherev 
 er he went. As an officer he was brave and able, and 
 did much towards disciplining the American army. 
 With vigorous powers of min i and a brilliant fancy, he 
 was a correct and elegant classical scholar, and he both 
 wrote and spoke his native language with propriety, 
 force, and beauty. His temper was severe; (he history 
 of his life is little else than the history of disputes, quar 
 rels, and duels, in every part of the world. He was 
 vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious, and profane. 
 His principles, as would be expected from his character, 
 were most abandoned, and he ridiculed every tenet of 
 religion. Two virtues he possessed to an eminent de 
 gree, sincerity and veracity. It was notorious that Gen, 
 Lee was a man of unbounded personal ambition, and, 
 conscious of his European education, and pre-eminent 
 military talents and prowess, he affected a superiority 
 over Genera] Washington, and constantly aimed at the 
 supreme command, little scrupulous as to the means em 
 ployed to accomplish his own advancement. 
 
 The following is an extract from General Lee s will. 
 
 "I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in 
 any church or churchyard, or within a mile of any Pres 
 byterian or Anabaptist Meeting House, for since I have 
 resided in this country, 1 have kept so much bad compa 
 ny while living, that 1 do not choose to continue it while 
 dead." 
 
108 HENRY LEE. 
 
 HENRY LEE, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 COLONEL LEE was by hirth a Virginian, and descended 
 from the most distinguished branch of the Lees of that 
 state. He possessed the lofty genius of his family, uni 
 ted to invincible courage and firmness, and all the noble 
 enthusiasm of the warrior. General Charles Lee, who 
 was beyond question, a competent judge of military tal 
 ent, averred, u that Henry Lee came a soldier from his 
 mother s womb."" General Greene pronounced him 
 "The Eye" of the southern army, and to his counsels 
 gave the most implicit, constant, and unbounded confi 
 dence. In the hour of difficulty, was danger to be aver 
 ted, was prompt exertion necessary to prevent revolt, 
 crush insurrection, cut off supplies, harass the enemy, 
 or pursue him to destruction, to no one did he so often 
 turn as to Lee. 
 
 But his ardour, orilliancy, and daring resolution, con 
 stituted but a part of his military worth. In him the 
 fierce impetuosity of youth was finely blended with the 
 higher and more temperate qualities of age. If he had 
 in his temperament, something of the electrical fire of 
 Achilles, it was ennobled by the polished dignity of 
 Hector, and repressed and moderated by the wisdom of 
 Nestor. 
 
 For vigilance, intelligence, decision of character, skill 
 in arms, a spirit of enterprise, and powers of combination, 
 hft Ifad but few equals, youthful as he was, in the armies 
 of his country. 
 
 As an officer of horse, and a partisan commander, 
 perhaps he had no superior on earth. 
 
 That he was justly entitled to this encomium, appears, 
 as well from the extensive catalogue of his exploits, as 
 from the high confidence always reposed in him by the 
 commanding officer under whom he served. 1 his is 
 true, no less in relation to Washington than Greene. He 
 was the intimate friend and confidant of both. The- 
 sentiments of the latter, with regard to him, are forci 
 bly expressed in the following extract of a letter, dated 
 February 18th, 1782. 
 
FRANCIS MARION. 209 
 
 ^Lieutenant-Colonel Lee retires, for a time, for the 
 recovery of his health. I am more indebted to this 
 officer than to any other, for the advantages gained over 
 the enemy, in the operations of the last campaign; and 
 should be wanting in gratitude, not to acknowledge the 
 importance of his services, a detail of which is his best 
 panegyric. * 
 
 FRANCIS MARION, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 FRANCIS MARION, colonel in the regular service, and 
 brigadier-general in the militia of South Carolina, was 
 born in the vicinity of Georgetown, in the year 1733. 
 
 To portray the meteor-like course of hardihood and 
 exploit, traced by General Marion and his heroic follow 
 ers, would constitute a picture, rich in admiration and 
 delight, to the lovers of bravery and romantic adventure. 
 Never was an officer better suited to the times in 
 which he lived, and the situation in which it was his for 
 tune to act. For stratagems, unlooked-for e< terprises 
 against the enemy, and devices for concealing his own 
 position and movements, he had no rival. Never, in a 
 single instance, was he overtaken in his course, or dis 
 covered in his hiding-place. Even some of his own 
 party, anxious for his safety, and well acquainted with 
 many of the places of his retreat, have sought for him 
 whole days in his immediate neighbourhood without 
 finding him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, in some dis 
 tant point he would again appear, pouncing upon his en 
 emy like the eagle upon his prey. These high and rare 
 qualities conducted him repeatedly into the arms of 
 victory, when the force he encountered was tenfold the 
 number of that he commanded. 
 
 Young Marion, at the age of sixteen, entered on board 
 a vessel bound to the West Indies, whh a determination 
 to fit himself for a seafaring life. On his outward pas 
 sage, the vessel was upset in a gale of wind, when the 
 
 *Life of Greene. 
 
 C2 
 
210 FRANCIS MARIdN . 
 
 crew took to their boat without water or provisions, it 
 being impracticable to save any of either. A dog jump 
 ed into the boat with the crew, and upon his flesh, eaten 
 raw, did the survivors of these unfortunate men subsist 
 for seven or eight days; in which period several died of 
 hunger. 
 
 Among the few who escaped was young Marion. Af 
 ter reaching land, Marion relinquished his original plan 
 of life, and engaged in the labours of agriculture. In 
 this occupation he continued until 1759, when he be 
 came a soldier, and was appointed a lieutenant in a 
 company of volunteers, raised for an expedition against 
 the Cherokee Indians, commanded by Captain William 
 Moultrie, (since General Moultrie.) 
 
 As soon as the war broke out between the colonies 
 and the mother country, Marion was called to the com 
 mand of a company in the first corps raised by the state 
 of South Carolina. He was soon afterward promoted to 
 a majority and served in that rank under Colonel Moul 
 trie, in his intrepid defence of Fort Moultrie, againt the 
 combined attack of Sir Henry Clinton and Sir H. Par 
 ker, on the 2d of June, 1776 He was afterward placed 
 at the head of a regiment, as lieutenant colonel com 
 mandant, in which capacity he served during the siege of 
 Charleston; when, having fractured his leg by some ac 
 cident, he became incapable of military duty, and, for 
 tunately for his country, escaped the captivity to which 
 the jrarrison was, in the sequel, forced to submit. 
 
 When Charleston fell into the enemy s hands. Lieuten 
 ant-Colonel Marion abandoned his state, and took shelter 
 in North Carolina. The moment he recovered from 
 the fracture of his leg, he engaged in preparing the 
 means of annoying the enemy, then in the flood-tide of 
 prosperity. W ith sixteen men only, he crossed the San- 
 tee, and commenced that daring system of warfare 
 which so much annoyed the British army. 
 
 Colonel Peter Uorry. in his life of General Marion, 
 gives the following interesting incident : 4 *About this time 
 we received a flag from the enemy in Georgetown, South 
 Carolina, the object of which was to make some ar 
 rangements about the exchange of prisoners. The flag. 
 
FRANCIS MARION. 211 
 
 after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was conducted 
 into Marion s encampment. Having heard great talk 
 about General Marion, his fancy had naturally enough 
 sketched out for him some stout figure of a warrior, 
 as O Hara, or Cornwallis himself, of martial aspect 
 and flaming regimentals. But what was his surprise, 
 when led into Marion s presence, and the bandage taken 
 from his eyes, he beheld in our hero a swarthy, smoke- 
 dried little man, with scarcely enough of thread-bare 
 homespun to cover his nakedness! and, instead of tall 
 ranks of gay dressed soldiers, a handful of sunburnt, 
 yellow-legged militia-men; some roasting potatoes, and 
 some asleep, with their black firelocks and powder-horns 
 lying by them on the logs. Having recovered a little 
 from his surprise, he presented his letter to General Ma 
 rion, who perused it, and soon settled every thing to his 
 satisfaction. 
 
 The officer took up his hat to retire. 
 
 "Oh no!" said Marion, "it is now about our time of 
 dining; and I hope, sir, you will give us the pleasure of 
 your company to dinner." 
 
 At the mention of the word dinner the British officer 
 looked around him, but, to his great mortification, could 
 see no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any other 
 cooking utensil that could raise the spirits of a hungry 
 man. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said the General to one of his men, 
 "come, give us our dinner." 
 
 The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than a 
 heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roasting 
 under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine stick 
 poker, soon liberated from their ashy confinement ; pinch 
 ing them every now and then with his fingers, especially 
 the big ones, to see whether they were well done or not. 
 Then, having cleansed them of the ashes, partly by 
 blowing them with his breath, and partfy by brushing 
 them with the sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled 
 some of the best on a large piece of bark, and placed 
 them between the British officer and Marion, on the trunk 
 of the fallen pine on which they sat. 
 
212 FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 "I fear, sir," said the General, "our dinner will not 
 prove so palatable to you as I could wish; but it is the 
 best we have." 
 
 The officer, who was a well-bred man, took up one of 
 the potatoes, and affected to feed, as if he had found a 
 great dainty; but it was very plain that he ate more 
 from good manners than good appetite. 
 
 Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Marion 
 looked surprised. " I beg pardon, General," said he, 
 "but one cannot, you know, always command one s con 
 ceits 1 was thinking how drolly some of my brother 
 officers would look, if our government were to give them 
 such a bill of fare as this." 
 
 "1 suppose," replied Marion, " it is not equal to their 
 style of dining." 
 
 "No, indeed," quoth the officer^ "and this, I imagine, 
 is one of your accidental Lent dinners: a sort of ban-yan. 
 In general, no doubt, you live a great deal better" 
 
 "Rather worse," answered the general, "for often we 
 don t get enough of this." 
 
 "Heavens!" rejoined the officer, "but probably what 
 you lose in mcalyo\\ make up in ma//, though stinted in 
 provisions, you draw noble pay. 
 
 Not a cent, sir," said Marion, "not a cent" 
 
 "Heavens and earth! then you must be in a bad box. 
 I don t see General, how you can stand it." 
 
 "Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self-ap 
 probation, "these things depend on feeling." 
 
 The Englishman said, "he did not believe it would be 
 an easy matter to reconcile his feelings to a soldier s life 
 on General Marion s terms: all fighting, no pay, and no 
 provisions but potatoes" 
 
 "Why, sir," answered the General, "the heart is all; 
 and when this is much interested, a man can do any 
 thing. Maiy -<\ youth would think it hard to indent 
 himself a slav^ for fourteen years. But let him be over 
 head and ears in love, and with such a beauteous sweet 
 heart as Rachel, vi nd he will think no more of fourteen 
 years servitude than young Jacob did. Well, now this 
 is exactly my case, i am in love; and my sweetheart 
 is LIBERTY. Be that heavenly nymph my champion, and 
 
FRANCIS MARION. 213 
 
 these woods shall have charms beyond London and 
 Paris in slavery. To have no proud monarch driving 
 over me with his gilt coaches ; nor his host of excise 
 men and tax-gatherers insulting and robbing; but to he 
 my own master, my own prince and sovereign; gloriously 
 preserving mv national dignity, and pursuing my true 
 happiness; planting my vineyards, and eating their lus 
 cious fruit; sowing my fields, and reaping the golden 
 grain ; and seeing millions of brothers all around me, 
 equally free and happy as myself: this, sir, is what I 
 long for." 
 
 The officer replied that, both as a man and a Briton, 
 he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy state of 
 things. 
 
 ^Happy? quoth Marion, yes, happy indeed: and I 
 would rather fight for such blessings for my country, and 
 feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wallowing in all 
 the luxuries of Solomon. For now, sir, I walk the soil 
 that gave me birth, and exult in the thought that 1 am 
 not unworthy of it. I look upon these venerable trees 
 around me, and feel that I do not dishonour them. I 
 think of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I have 
 not basely deserted them. And when I look forward to 
 the long, long ages of posterity, I glory in the thought 
 that I am fighting their battles. The children of distant 
 generations may never hear my name; but still it glad 
 dens my heart to think that I am now contending for 
 their freedom, with all its countless blessings. 
 
 I looked at Marion as he uttered these sentiments, 
 and fancied t felt as when 1 heard the last words of 
 the brave De Kalb. The Englishman hung his honest 
 head, and looked, I thought, as if he had seen the up 
 braiding ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, Sidney and 
 H amd en . 
 
 On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by Col. 
 Watson why he looked so serious? 
 
 I have cause, sir, said-he, to look so serious. 
 What! has General Marion refused to treat? 
 No, sir. 
 
 Well, then, has old Washington defeated Sir Henry 
 Clinton, and broke up our army? 
 
214 FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 No, sir, nor that neither; but worse.* 
 
 Ah! what can be worse? 
 
 Why, sir, I have seen an American general and his 
 officers, without pay, and almost without clothes, living on 
 roots and drinking water; and all for LIBERTY!! What 
 chance have we against such men? 
 
 It is said Colonel Watson was not much obliged to 
 him for his speech. But the young officer was so struck 
 with Marion s sentiments, that he never rested until he 
 threw up his commission, and retired from the service." 4 
 
 "Gen. Marion, whose stature was diminutive, and his 
 person uncommonly light, rode, when in service, one of 
 the fleetest and most powerful chargers the south could 
 produce. When in fair pursuit, nothing could escape 
 him, and when retreating, nothing could overtake him. 
 
 Being once nearly surrounded by a party of British 
 dragoons, he was compelled for safety, to pass into a 
 corn-field, by leaping the fence. This field marked with 
 a considerable descent of surface, had been in part a 
 marsh. Marion entered it at the upper side. The 
 dragoons in chase leapt the fence also, and were but a 
 short distance behind him. So completely was he now 
 in their power, that his only mode of escape was to pass 
 over the fence on the lower side. But here lay a diffi 
 culty which to all but himself appeared insurmountable. 
 
 To drain the ground of its superfluous waters, a trench 
 had been cut around this part of the field, four feet wide 
 and of the same depth. Of the mud and clay removed 
 in cutting it, a bank had been formed on its inner side, 
 and on the top of this was erected the fence. The ele 
 vation of the whole amounted to more than seven feet 
 perpendicular height ; a ditch four feet in width running 
 parallel with it on the outside, and a foot or more of 
 space intervening between the fence and the ditch. 
 
 The dragoons, acquainted with the nature and extent 
 of this obstacle, and considering it impossible for their 
 enemy to pass it, pressed towards him with loud shouts 
 of exultation and insult, and summoned him to surrender 
 or perish by the sword. Regardless of their rudeness 
 
 "Am. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
HUGH MERCER. 215 
 
 and empty clamour, and inflexibly determined not to be 
 come their prisoner, Marion spurred his horse to the 
 charge. The noble animal, as if conscious that his 
 master s life was in danger, and that on his exertion de 
 pended his safety, approached the barrier in his finest 
 style, and with a bound that was almost supernatural, 
 cleared the fence and the ditch, and recovered himself 
 without injury on the opposite side. 
 
 Marion now facing his pursuers, who had halted at 
 the fence unable to pass it, discharged his pistols at 
 them without effect, and then wheeling his horse, and 
 bidding them "good morning," with an air of triumph, 
 dashed into an adjoining thicket, and disappeared in an 
 instant. 
 
 General Marion was a native of South Carolina; and 
 the immediate theatre of his exploits, was a large sec 
 tion of the maratime district of that state, around 
 Georgetown. The peculiar hardihood of his constitu 
 tion, and its being accommodated to a warm climate, 
 and a low marshy country, qualified him to endure 
 hardships and submit to exposures, which, in that sickly 
 region, few other men would have been competent to 
 sustain. He continued his undivided efforts until the 
 close of the war, and lived to see the United States en 
 rolled among the free and independent nations of the 
 earth. 
 
 HUGH MERCER, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. MERCER was a Scotchman by birth, but at an 
 .early age emigrated to Virginia, where he continued to 
 reside, and became a practising physician. 
 
 General Wilkinson relates the following interesting 
 incidents in his life: 
 
 "He served in the campaign of 1755, with General 
 Braddock, and was wounded through the shoulder in 
 the unfortunate action near Fort du Quesne: unable to 
 retreat, he lay down under cover of a large fallen 
 tree, and in the pursuit, an Indian leaped upon his covert 
 immediately over him, and after looking about a few 
 
216 HUGH MERCER. 
 
 seconds for the direction of the fugitives, he sprang off 
 without observing the wounded man who lay at his feet. 
 So soon as the Indians had killed the wounded, scalped 
 the dead, rifled the baggage, and cleared the field, the 
 unfortunate Mercer finding himself exceedingly faint and 
 thirsty, from loss of blood, crawled to an adjacent brook, 
 and after drinking plentifully, found himself so much re 
 freshed, that he was able to walk, and commenced his 
 return by the road the army had advanced; but being 
 without subsistence, and more than a hundred inih j s 
 from any Christian settlement, he expected to die of 
 famine, when he observed a rattlesnake on his path, 
 which he killed and contrived to skin, and throwing it 
 over his sound shoulder, he subsisted on it as the claims 
 of nature urged, until he reached Fort Cumberland, on 
 the Potomac." 
 
 General Mercer, at the commencement of the revo] 
 lution, heartily engaged in the cause of American liber 
 ty. He was one of those gallant spirits who adhered 
 to the American cause in times that tried men s souls," 
 and bravely supported the Commander in chief in his 
 disastrous retreat through the Jerseys. 
 
 He was present at the battle of Princeton, where 
 he greatly distinguished himself, and was mortally 
 wounded. 
 
 "On the night of the 1st of January, General Mercer, 
 Colonel C. Biddle, and Doctor Cochran spent the eve 
 ning with General St. Clair. Fatigued with the duties 
 of the day, I had lain down in the same apartment, and 
 my attention was attracted by the turn of their conver 
 sation, on the recent promotion, of Captain William 
 Washington, from a regiment of infantry to a majority 
 of cavalry. General Mercer expressed his disapproba 
 tion of the measure; at which the gentlemen appeared 
 surprised, as it was the reward of acknowledged gal 
 lantry: and Mercer, in explantion observed; "We are 
 not engaged in a war of ambition: if it had been so, I 
 should never have accepted a commission under a man 
 who had not seen a day s service, (alluding to the great 
 orator, and distinguished patriot Patrick Henry;) we 
 serve not for ourselves, but for our country, and every 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 217 
 
 man should be content to fill the place in which he can 
 be most useful. I know Washington to be a good cap 
 tain of infantry, but I know not what sort of a major of 
 horse he may make; and I have seen good captains 
 make indifferent majors ; for my own part my views in 
 this contest are confined to a single object, that is, the 
 success of the cause, and God can witness how cheer 
 fully I would lay down my life to secure it." 
 
 "In General Mercer we lost a chief, who for educa 
 tion, experience, talents, disposition, integrity, and patri 
 otism, was second to no man but the commander in chief, 
 and was qualified to fill the highest trusts of the coun 
 try. The manner in which he was wounded, is an evi 
 dence of the excess to which the common soldiery are 
 liable in the heat of action, particularly when irritated 
 by the loss of favourite officers. Being obstructed when 
 advancing by a post and rail fence, in front of the or 
 chard, it may be presumed the general dismounted vol 
 untarily, for lie was on foot when the troops gave way; 
 in exerting himself to rally them he was thrown into the 
 rear, and perceiving he could not escape, he turned, and 
 surrendered, but was instantly knocked down, and bay 
 oneted thirteen times, when feigning to be dead, one of 
 his murderers exclaimed, "Damn him, he is dead, let us 
 leave him." After the retreat of the enemy, he was 
 conveyed to the house of Thomas Clark, to whom he 
 gave this account, and languished until the 12th, when 
 he expired."* 
 
 DANIEL MORGAN, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL MORGAN was the creator of his own fortune. 
 Born of poor, though honest parents, he enjoyed none of 
 the advantages which result from wealth and early ed 
 ucation. But his was a spirit that would not tamely 
 yield to difficulties. 
 
 "He was born in New-Jersey, where, from his poverty 
 and low condition, he had been a day-labourer. To 
 
 ^Wilkinson s Memoirs. 
 
 D 2 
 
218 1>ANIEL MORGAN. 
 
 early education and breeding, therefore, lie owed nothing. 
 But for this deficiency, his native sagacity, and sound 
 judgment, and his intercourse with the best society, 
 made much amends, in after life. 
 
 Enterprising in his disposition, even now he removed 
 to Virginia, in 1755, with a hope and expectation of im 
 proving his fortune. Here he continued, at first, his 
 original business of day-labour; but exchanged it, after 
 ward, for the employment of a wagoner. 
 
 His military novitiate he served in the campaign un 
 der the unfortunate Braddock. The rank he bore is not 
 precisely known. It must, however, have been humble; 
 for, in consequence of imputed contumely towards a Brit 
 ish officer, he was brought to the halbert, and received 
 the inhuman punishment of five hundred lashes: or, ac 
 cording to his own statement, of four hundred and nine 
 ty-nine; for he always asserted, that the drummer, 
 charged with the execution of the sentence, miscounted, 
 and jocularly added, "that George the Third was stil! 
 indebted to him one lash." To the honour of Morgan, 
 he never practically remembered this savage treatment., 
 during the revolutionary w r ar. Towards the British 
 officers, whom the fortune of battle placed within his 
 power, his conduct was humane, mild, and gentlemanly. 
 
 After his return from this campaign, so inordinately 
 was he addicted to quarrels and boxing matches, that 
 the village of Berrystown, in the -county of Frederick, 
 which constituted the chief theatre of his pugilistic 
 exploits, received, from this circumstance, the name of 
 Battletown. 
 
 In these combats, although frequently overmatched in 
 personal strength, he manifested the same unyielding 
 spirit which characterized him afterward, in his military 
 career. When worsted by his antagonist, lie would 
 pause, for a time, to recruit his strength ; and then return 
 to the contest, again and again, until he rarely failed to 
 prove victorious. 
 
 Equally marked was his invincibility of spirit in ma- 
 t.urer age. when raised, by fortune and his own merit, to 
 a higher and more honourable field of action. Defeat 
 in battle he rarely experienced; but when he did, his 
 retreat was sullen, stern, and dangerous. 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 219 
 
 The commencement of the American revolution, found 
 Mr. Vlorgan married and cultivating a farm, which, by 
 industry and economy, he had been enabled to pur 
 chase, in the county of Frederick. 
 
 Placed at the head of a rifle company, raised in his 
 neighbourhood, in 1775, he marched immediately to the 
 American head-quarters in Cambridge, near Boston. 
 
 By order of the commander in chief, he soon after 
 ward joined in the expedition against Quebec: and was 
 made prisoner, in the attempt on that fortress, where 
 Arnold was wounded, and Montgomery fell. 
 
 During the assault, his daring valour and persevering 
 gallantry attracted the notice and admiration of the 
 enemy. 
 
 The assailing column, to which he belonged, was led 
 by Major Arnold. When that officer was wounded, 
 and carried from the ground, Morgan threw himself into 
 the lead; and, rushing forward, passed the first and se 
 cond barriers. For a moment, victory appeared cer 
 tain. But the fall of Montgomery, closing the prospect, 
 the assailants were repulsed, and the enterprise aban 
 doned. 
 
 During his captivity, Captain Morgan was treated 
 with great kindness, and not a little distinction. He was 
 repeatedly visited, in confinement, by a British officer of 
 rank, who at length made an attempt on his patriotism 
 and virtue, by offering him the commission and emolu 
 ments of colonel in the British army, on condition that 
 he would desert the American, and join the royal 
 standard. 
 
 Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn: and re 
 quested the courtly and corrupt negotiator "never again 
 to insult him in his misfortunes, by an offer which 
 plainly implied that he thought him a villain." The 
 officer withdrew, and did not again recur to the subject. 
 
 On being exchanged, Morgan immediately joined the 
 American army, and received, by the recommendation 
 of Gen. Washington, the command of a regiment. 
 
 In the year 1777, he was placed at the head of a se 
 lect rifle corps, with which, in various instances, he 
 acted on the enemy with terrible effect. His troops 
 
*220 DANIEL MORGAN. 
 
 were considered the most dangerous in the American 
 service. To confront them, in the field, was almost cer 
 tain death to the British officers. 
 
 On the occasion of the capture of Burgoyne, the ex 
 ertions and services of Colonel Morgan, and his rifle 
 men, were beyond all praise. Much of the glory of 
 the achievement belonged to them. Yet so gross was 
 the injustice of General Gates, that he did not even 
 mention them in his official despatches. His reason for 
 this, was secret and dishonourable. Shortly after the 
 surrender of Burgoyne, General Gates took occasion to 
 hold with Morgan a private conversation. In the course 
 of this, he told him confidentially, that the main army 
 was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of Gen. 
 Washington; that the reputation of the Commander 
 in chief was rapidly declining; and that several officers 
 of great worth threatened to resign unless a change 
 were produced in that department. 
 
 Colonel Morgan, fathoming in an instant, the views of 
 his commanding officer, sternly, and with honest indig 
 nation, replied, "Sir, I have one favour to ask. Never, 
 again, mention to me this hateful subject; under no 
 other man, but General Washington, as commander in 
 chief, will I ever serve." 
 
 From that moment ceased the intimacy that had pre-~ 
 viously subsisted between him and Gen. Gates. 
 
 A few days afterward, the general gave a dinner to 
 the principal officers of the British, and some of those of 
 the American army. Morgan was not invited. In the 
 course of the evening, that officer found it necessary to 
 call on Geurra! Gates, on official business. Being intro 
 duced into the dining-room, he spoke to the general, 
 received his orders, and immediately withdrew, his name 
 unannounced. Perceiving, from his dress, that he was 
 of high rank, the British officers inquired his name. Be 
 ing told that it was Colonel Morgan, commanding the 
 rifle corps, they rose from the table, followed him into 
 the yard, and introduced themselves to him, with many 
 complimentary and flattering expressions, declaring 
 that, on the day of action, they had very severely felt 
 him in the field. 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 221 
 
 In 1780, having obtained leave of absence from the 
 army, on account of the shattered condition of his 
 health, he retired to his estate, in the county of Freder 
 ick; and remained there until the appointment of Gen, 
 Gates to the command of the southern army. 
 
 Being waited on, by the latter, and requested to ac 
 company him, he reminded him, in expressions, marked 
 by resentment, of the unworthy treatment he had for 
 merly experienced from him, in return for the important 
 services, which he did not hesitate to assert, he had 
 rendered him in his operations against the army of Gen. 
 Burgoyne. 
 
 Having received no acknowledgment, nor even ci 
 vility, for aiding to decorate him with laurels in the 
 north, he frankly declared, that there were no considera 
 tions, except of a public nature, that could induce him 
 to co-operate, in his campaigns to the south. "Motives 
 of public good might influence him; because his country 
 had a claim on him, in any quarter, where he could pro 
 mote her interest; but personal attachment must not be 
 expected to exist, where he had experienced nothing 
 but neglect and injustice." 
 
 The two officers parted, mutually dissatisfied; the 
 one, on account of past treatment, the other of the re 
 cent interview. 
 
 In the course of a few weeks afterward, congress hav 
 ing promoted Colonel Morgan to the rank of brigadier 
 general, by brevet, with a view to avail themselves of 
 his services in the south, he proceeded, without delay, to 
 join the army of General Gates. But he was prevented 
 from serving, any length of time, under that officer, by 
 his defeat, near Camden, before his arrival; and his 
 being soon afterward superseded in command by General 
 Greene.* 
 
 Soon after taking command of the southern army, 
 General Greene despatched General Morgan with four 
 hundred continentals, under Col. Howard, Col. Wash 
 ington s corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting 
 in all to about six hundred, to take position on the left 
 
 *Life of Gen. Greene. 
 
222 DANIEL MORGAN, 
 
 of the British army, then lying at Winnsborough, under 
 Lord Cornvvallis, while he took post about seventy miles 
 to his right. This judicious disposition excited his Lord 
 ship s apprehensions for the safety of Ninety -Six and 
 Augusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced 
 by the movements of Morgan. 
 
 Colonel Tarleton, with a strong detachment, amount 
 ing in horse and foot to near a thousand men, was im 
 mediately despatched by Cornwallis to the protection of 
 Ninety-Six, with orders to bring General Morgan, if 
 possible, to battle. To the ardent temper and chival 
 rous disposition of the British colonel, this direction 
 was perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in numbers, 
 he advanced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and 
 compelled him, at first, to fall back rapidly. But the 
 retreat of the American commander was not long con 
 tinued. Irritated by pursuit, reinforced by a body of 
 militia, and reposing great confidence in the spirit and 
 firmness of his regular troops, he halted at the Cowpens, 
 and determined to gratify his adversary, in his eagerness 
 for combat. This was on the night of the sixteenth of 
 Jan. 1781. Early in the morning of the succeeding day, 
 Tarleton, being apprised of the situation of Morgan, 
 pressed towards him with a redoubled rapidity, lest, by 
 renewing iiis retreat, he should again elude him. 
 
 But Morgan now had other thoughts than those of 
 flight. Already had he, for several days, been at war 
 with himself in relation to his conduct. Glorying in 
 action, his spirit recoiled from the humiliation of retreat, 
 and his resentment was roused by the insolence of pur 
 suit. This mental conflict becoming more intolerable 
 to him than disaster or death, his courage triumphed 
 perhaps over his prudence, and he resolved upon put 
 ting every thing to the hazard of the sword. 
 
 By military men, who have studied the subject, his 
 disposition for battle is said to have been masterly. 
 Two light parties of militia were advanced in front, with 
 orders to feel the enemy as they approached; and pre 
 serving a desultory, well-aimed fire, as they fell back to 
 the front line, to range with it and renew the conflict. 
 The main body of the militia composed this line, with 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 223 
 
 General Pickens at its head. At a suitable distance in 
 the rear of the first line, a second was stationed, com 
 posed of the continental infantry and two companies of 
 Virginia militia, commanded by Col. Howard. Wash 
 ington s cavalry, reinforced with a company of mounted 
 militia, armed with sabres, was held in reserve. 
 
 Posting himself, then, in the line of the regulars, he 
 waited, in silence, the advance of the enemy. 
 
 Tarleton coming in sight, hastily formed his disposi 
 tion for battle, and commenced the assault. Of this 
 conflict, the following picture is from the pen of General 
 Lee: 
 
 "The American light parties quickly yielded, fell 
 back, and arrayed with Pickens. The enemy shouting, 
 rushed forward upon the front line, which retained its 
 station, and poured in a close fire; but continuing to ad 
 vance with the bayonet on our militia, they retired, and 
 gained, with haste, the second line. Here, with part of 
 the corps, Pickens took post on Howard s right, and the 
 rest fled to their horses, probably with orders to remove 
 them to a further distance. Tarleton pushed forward, 
 and was received by his adversary with unshaken firm 
 ness. The contest became obstinate ; and each party, 
 animated by the example of its leader, nobly contended 
 for victory. Our line maintained itself so firmly, as to 
 objige the enemy to order up his reserve. The advance 
 of M Arthur reanimated the British line, which again 
 moved forward, and, outstretching our front endangered 
 Colonel Howard s right. This officer instantly took 
 measures to defend his flank, by directing his right com 
 pany to change its front; but, mistaking this order, the 
 company fell back; upon which the line began to retire, 
 and General Morgan directed it to retreat to the cavalry. 
 This manoeuvre being performed with precision, our 
 flank became relieved, and the new position was assu 
 med with promptitude. Considering this retrograde 
 movement the precursor of flight, the British line rush 
 ed on with impetuosity and disorder; but as it drew 
 near, Howard faced about, and gave it a close and mur 
 derous fire. Stunned by this unexpected shock, the 
 most advanced of the enemv recoiled in confusion. 
 
224 DANIEL MORGAN. 
 
 Howard seized the happy moment, and followed his ad 
 vantage with the bayonet. This decisive step gave us 
 the day. The reserve having been brought near the 
 line, shared in the destruction of our fire, and presented 
 no rallying point to the fugitives. A part of the ene 
 my s cavalry, having gained our rear, fell on that port ion 
 of the militia who had retired to their horses. Wash 
 ington struck at them with his dragoons, and drove them 
 before him. Thus, by a simultaneous effort, the infan 
 try and cavalry of the enemy were routed. Morgan 
 pressed home his success, and the pursuit became vig 
 orous and general." 
 
 "In this decisive battle we lost about seventy men, 
 of whom twelve only were killed. The British infan 
 try, with the exception of the baggage guard, were near 
 ly all killed or taken. One hundred, including ten offi 
 cers, were killed; twenty-three officers and five hundred 
 privates were taken. The artillery, eight hundred mus 
 kets, two standards, thirty-five baggage wagons, and 
 one hundred dragoon horses, fell into our possession." 
 
 In this battle, so glorious to the American arms, Tarle- 
 ton had every advantage, in point of ground, cavalry, 
 and numbers, aided by two pieces of artillery. 
 
 Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent attacks of 
 the rheumatism compelled General [Morgan to retire 
 from the army, and he returned to his seat in Frederick. 
 Virginia, where he continued in retirement, until the in 
 surrection in the western part of Pennsylvania, in 1794. 
 when he was detached by the executive of Virginia, at 
 the head of the militia quota of that state, to suppress 
 it. This done, he returned into the bosom of his fami 
 ly, where he remained until death closed his earthly 
 career, in 1799. 
 
 "There existed in the character of General Morgan a 
 singular contradiction, which is worthy of notice. 
 
 Although, in battle, no man was ever more prodigal 
 of the exposure of his person to danger, or manifested 
 a more deliberate disregard of death, yet, so strong was 
 his love of life, at other times, that he has been frequent 
 ly heard to declare, "he would agree to pass half his 
 time as a galley slave, rather than quit this world for 
 another." 
 
THOMAS MIFFLIN. 225 
 
 The following outline of his person and character, 
 is from the pen of a military friend, who knew him in 
 timately. 
 
 "Brigadier-General Morgan was stout and active, six 
 feet in height, strong, not too much encumbered with 
 flesh, and was exactly fitted for the toils and pomp of 
 war. His mind was discriminating and solid, but not 
 comprehensive and combining. His manners plain and 
 decorous, neither insinuating nor repulsive. His con 
 versation grave, sententious, and. considerate, unadorn 
 ed, and uncaptivating. He reflected deeply, spoke 
 little, and executed, with keen perseverance, whatever 
 he undertook. He was indulgent, in his military com 
 mand, preferring always the affections of his troops, to 
 that dread and awe which surround the rigid discipli 
 narian." 
 
 A considerable time before his death, when the pres 
 sure of infirmity began to be heavy, he became seriously 
 concerned about his future welfare. From that period, 
 his chief solace lay in the study of the Scriptures, and 
 in devotional exercises. He died in the belief of the 
 truths of Christianity, and in full communion with" the 
 Presbyterian Church."* 
 
 THOM4S MIFFLIN, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 "THOMAS MIFFLIN, a major general in the American 
 army during the revolutionary war, and governor of 
 Pennsylvania, was born in the year 1744, of parents 
 who were Quakers. His education was intrusted to 
 the care of the Rev. Dr. Smith, with whom he was 
 connected inhabits of cordial intimacy and friendship, 
 for more than forty years. Active and zealous, he 
 engaged early in opposition to the measures of the 
 British parliament. He was a member of the first con 
 gress in 1774. He took arms, and was among the first 
 officers commissioned on the organization of the conti 
 nental army, being appointed quarter-master general in 
 
 *Life of Greene. 
 
 E2 
 
"226 RICHARD MONTGOMERV. 
 
 August, 176. 1 ). For this offence he was read out of the 
 society of Quakers. In 1777, he was very useful in an 
 imating the militia, and enkindling the spirit, which 
 seemed to have been damped. His sanguine disposition 
 and his activity, rendered him insensible to the value of 
 that coolness and caution, which were essential to the 
 preservation of such an army, as was then under the 
 command of General Washington. In 1787. he was a 
 member of the convention, which framed the constitution 
 of the United States, and his name is affixed to that 
 instrument. In October, 1788 he succeeded Franklin as 
 president of the supreme executive council of Pennsyl 
 vania, in which station he continued till October, 
 1700. In September, a constitution for this state was 
 formed by a convention, in which he presided, and he 
 was chosen the first governor. In 1794, during the in 
 surrection in Pennsylvania, he employed, to the advan 
 tage of his country, the extraordinary powers of elocu 
 tion, with which he was endowed. The imperfection of 
 thr militia laws was compensated by his eloquence. 
 He made a circuit through the lower countries, and, at 
 different places, publicly addressed the militia on the 
 crisis in the affairs of their country, and through his an 
 imating exhortations, the state furnished the quota re 
 quired. He was succeeded in the office of governor by 
 Mr.M Kean, at the close of the year 1799, and he died 
 at Lancaster, January 20, 1800, in the 57th year of his 
 age. He was an active and zealous patriot, who had 
 devoted much of his life to the public service."* 
 
 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. MONTGOMERY, whose premature death under the 
 walls of Quebec, robbed the American army of one of 
 its brightest ornaments, was born in the north of Ire 
 land, in the year 1737. 
 
 iJe possessed an excellent genius, which was matured 
 by a fine education. Entering the army of Great Brit- 
 
 *Am. Biog. Dictionary- 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 227 
 
 ain, he successfully fought her battles with Wolfe, at 
 Quebec, in 1759, and on the very spot where he was 
 doomed to fall, when fighting against her, under the 
 banners of freedom. After his return to England, he 
 quitted his regiment in 1772, though in a fair way to 
 preferment. 
 
 He had imbibed a strong attachment to America, 
 and viewing it as the rising seat of science and freedom, 
 resolved upon transferring to her his allegiance. After 
 his arrival in this country, he purchased an estate in 
 New York, about one hundred miles from the city, and 
 married a daughter of Judge Livingston. He now con 
 sidered himself as an American. 
 
 Connected with one of the first families in New York, 
 happy in the highest enjoyment of domestic felicity, he 
 was led by principle to quit the occupations of rural life; 
 and animated with an ardent zeal for the cause of hu 
 man nature, the liberties of mankind, and the glory of 
 America, both his active life, and his heroic death, veri 
 fied his last expression to his amiable lady ^You shall 
 never blush, for your Montgomery" 
 
 At the comnuncement of the struggle with Great 
 Britain, the command of the continental forces in the 
 northern department was intrusted to him and General 
 Schuyler, in the fall of 1775. 
 
 " While the British army was cooped up in Boston, 
 without (he power of much annoyance to tin 1 surround 
 ing country, the congress conceived the design of send 
 ing a force into Canada, for the purpose of putting a 
 stop to the preparations which it was known that Gen. 
 Carleton, the governor of that province, was making, for 
 aiding Siis majesty s forces on this side of the Lakes. For 
 this purpose, Generals Schuyler and iVJontgomer^, with 
 two regiments of New York militia, and a bo iy of Ne.v- 
 Englandim n, amounting in the whole to about two thou 
 sand men, were ordered to move towards Ticonderoga, 
 which had remained in possession of the Americans, 
 since the expedition of < olonels Arnold and Allen. 
 General Schuyler being detained at Albany, Montgome 
 ry proceeded alone to Crown Point, where he received 
 intelligence that several armed vessels, which lay at the 
 
228 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 fort of St. John s, were preparing to enter the Lake 
 Champlain, for the purpose ot impeding the passage of 
 his troops. This determined him, though not more than 
 half of his troops had arrived, to cross over to the Isle 
 anx JYoix, at the entrance of the Sorel, and thus block 
 ade the vessels which lay in that river. He had scarce 
 ly succeeded in this design, before he was joined by 
 General Schuyler; and it was determined, after publish 
 ing a declaration to the Canadians, setting forth their 
 friendly intentions towards them, to proceed immediately 
 against the fort of St. John s. With this view, they pro 
 ceeded with their batteaux for a few miles down the 
 Sorel, and landed, on a swampy ground, through which 
 with great difficulty thev marched to within two miles 
 of the tort. Here they were suddenly attacked by a 
 party of Indians, which, after a smart skirmish, they dis 
 persed with a trifling loss, and continued their march; 
 but upon coming within view of the fort, and seeing its 
 strength, General Schuyler, whose force did not amount 
 to a thousand men, thought it prudent to return to the 
 Isle aux Noix, without attempting its reduction. The 
 general, being then obliged to return to Albany, to settle 
 a treatry with the Indians, left the command solely to 
 Montgomery; and never was there a general better 
 qualified for the duties which now devolved upon him. 
 It was absolutely necessary, before he could go against 
 Montreal, that the fort of St. John s should be reduced. 
 It was well provided, and strongly garrisoned. 
 
 The supply of ammunition with which Gen. Mont 
 gomery was provided was much too small to render an 
 immediate siege of St. John s prudent; and he would 
 probably have been compelled to remain inactive until 
 too late in the season to effect his object, but for the in 
 formation of some Canadians, that the little fortress of 
 Cliamblcc .which was but feebly garrisoned, contained 
 a good store of that article. He accordingly made 
 himself master of that place, and, to his great satisfac 
 tion, found one hundred and twenty barrels of powder, 
 besides a large quantity of other military stores and 
 provisions. The expedition against this fortress was 
 conducted by Majors Brown and Livingston. They 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 229 
 
 found here the standard of the 7th regiment, which was 
 immediately sent to the congress. 
 
 General Montgomery being thus enabled to carry on 
 the siege of St. John s, proceeded to erect his works, and 
 to prepare for a general assault. General Carleton, in 
 the mean time, hearing the situation of St. John s, pre 
 pared to raise a force for its relief. He had posted 
 Colonel JVTLean, with a regiment of Scotch emigrants, 
 at the mouth of the Sorel ; and having raised about a 
 thousand men at Montreal, he attempted to cross at 
 Longueil for the purpose of forming a junction, and 
 marching for the relief of St. John s. But Col. Ward, 
 who was stationed at Longueil, with three hundred 
 Green Mountain Boys, and a small piece of artillery, 
 kept up so warm a fire upon their boats, that the general 
 was glad to return to Montreal. 
 
 When the news of this repulse reached Montgomery, 
 he sent a flag to Major Preston, who commanded the 
 besieged fortress, summoning him to surrender; as all 
 hope of relief was cut off by Carleton s repulse, and a 
 farther resistance could only lead to a useless waste of 
 lives. Major Preston solicited a few days to consider 
 the proposal, being still impressed with the hope that 
 General Carleton might be able to come to his assist 
 ance: but upon his request being refused, he accepted 
 the honourable terms of capitulation, which General 
 Montgomery offered to him, and surrendered his garri 
 son prisoners of war. The British officers spoke highly 
 of the polite regard and attention shown to them by 
 Montgomery, who permitted them to wear their swords, 
 and to take off all their baggage and effects. The fort 
 surrendered on the 3d of November."* 
 
 On the 12th he took Montreal, the British General 
 Carleton having abandoned the town to its fate, and 
 made his escape down the river, in the night, in a small 
 canoe with muffled oars. Montgomery thus obtained 
 possession of all the naval force of the river, consisting 
 of eleven armed vessels. 
 
 "Many circumstances combined to render the situa 
 tion of Gen. Montgomery, though a conqueror, extremely 
 
 *AlIen s Revolution. 
 
230 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 unpleasant. The season was far advanced, and the 
 severities of the climate induced many of his men to de 
 sert the time for which many others were enlisted was 
 about to expire; and few were willing to encounter the 
 hardships of a long march through the deep snows of 
 December. Nothing but personal attachment to the 
 noble character ol the commander could have kept a 
 single regiment together. After new clothing all his 
 men at Montreal, and rendering them in other respects 
 as comfortable as the magazines there would admit of; 
 and having taken the necessary measures to ensure a 
 supply of provisions on the march, the general pushed 
 on through every difficulty, and joined Arnold, who had 
 marched through the wilderness, and arrived before 
 Quebec a short time previous, on the 1st of December. 
 His appearance was a source of great joy to the Colo- 
 neFs troops, as he had not forgotten to bring with him a 
 store of such supplies as he knew them to want. 
 
 Montgomery lost no time after his arrival in preparing 
 for an immediate attack. The whole of his force did 
 not amount to more than the troops of the garrison; but 
 he attempted, by assuming an appearance of greater 
 strength to weaken the confidence of the latter, and 
 thereby accomplish his object without bloodshed. 
 For this purpose, on the 5th of December, he addressed 
 a letter to the governor, in which he urged him by every 
 argument calculated to produce an effect upon his hu 
 manity or his fears, to spare his garrison the dreadful 
 consequences of a storm by an immediate surrender. 
 General Carleton, however, was too old a soldier to be 
 deceived by appearances he knew the difficulties un 
 der which Montgomery laboured, and was convinced 
 that if his garrison could hold out for a Jew days, the 
 climate would compel the provincials to abandon the 
 sie<ie. Montgomery s messenger was fired at, and all 
 communication forbidden. In this situation Montgome 
 ry commenced a bombardment from live small mortars, 
 whirh he kept up for several days r with the hope of 
 throwing the garrison into confusion. But it seemed to 
 produce no effect a battery of six guns was next open 
 ed upon them, at the distance of seven hundred yards, 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
 
 tyith no better success. The garrison remained insensi 
 ble to any impressions of alarm. 
 
 General Montgomery now found himself under circum 
 stances much more delicate and embarrassing, than 
 those which had, sixteen years before, environed the 
 hero Wolfe at the same spot. Several feet of sn\v 
 covered the ground his troops had undergone every 
 hardship, that it was possible to suffer, and it seemed 
 now almost impossible for human nature to endure 
 more. He had arrived before Quebec a conqueror, his 
 fame had reached his countrymen and his commander 
 at Cambridge, and they would expect a continuance of 
 success. He remembered moreover his parting words 
 to the beloved partner of his bosom "you shall never 
 blush for your Montgomery," he had said, when he gave 
 her the last embrace. While these feelings and recol 
 lections were alternately elevating and depressing 
 his noble spirit, he made a desperate resolution to at 
 tempt the enemy s works by escalade. And such was 
 the skill with which his plan had been formed, that no 
 doubt can remain, that he would ultimately have suc 
 ceeded, had not his whole scheme been communicated 
 to the garrison by some, scoundrels who deserted him at 
 this critical moment. 
 
 Montgomery soon perceived that the garrison were 
 prepared ; and it became necessary to change his whole 
 plan of operations. Having disposed his army into four 
 divisions, two of which he intended should make feigned 
 attacks, while Arnold and himself should be engaged 
 in real attacks upon two opposite sides, before daylight 
 on the 31st of December, in a thick fall of snow, Mont 
 gomery advanced at the head of the New-Yorkers. 
 Here again his fate resembled Wolfe s, for before he 
 could reach the place from whence he intended to com- 
 me ce the attack, the signal had been given through 
 mistake, and the whole garrison were alarmed. It was 
 too late to make another change in the plan of at 
 tack, and Montgomery pushed on he was compelled 
 to advance through a narrow path between a precipice 
 and overhanging rocks he had seized and passed the 
 first barrier, and was boldly advancing towards the 
 
232 1UCHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 second, with a few of his bravest companions, when a 
 discharge of grape shot from the cannon that were pla 
 ced there, stopped the progress of this brave and excel 
 lent officer, and destroyed the hopes of the enterprise. 
 Upon the fall of the general, the officer upon whom the 
 command of his party devolved, retired without making 
 any attempt to pursue the advantages already gained. 
 Some of his bravest officers had shared the glorious des 
 tiny of Montgomery, or Quebec must have fallen to the 
 united efforts of this party and that under Arnold."* 
 
 In accordance with the concerted plan 4 "Arnold ad 
 vanced with the utmost intrepidity against the battery 
 in the other quarter of the city. The alarm was imme 
 diately given, and the fire on his flank- commenced, 
 which, however, did not prove very destructive. As 
 he approached the barrier he received a musket-ball in 
 the leg, which shattered the bone, and was carried off 
 the field to the hospital. Morgan rushed forward to 
 the battery, at the head of his company, and received 
 from one of the pieces, almost at its mouth, a discharge 
 of grape shot, which killed only one man. A few ri 
 fles were immediately fired into the embrazures, by 
 which a British soldier was wounded in the head, and 
 the barricade being instantly mounted, with the aid of 
 ladders, brought by his men on their shoulders, the bat 
 tery was deserted without discharging the other gun. 
 The captain of the guard, with the greater number of 
 his men, fell into the hands of the Americans, and the 
 others made their escape. 
 
 Morgan formed the troops, consisting of his own com 
 pany, and a few bold individuals who had pressed for 
 ward from other parts of the division, in the streets 
 within the barrier; and took into custody several Eng 
 lish and Canadian burghers; but his situation soon be 
 came extremely critical. He was not followed by the 
 main body of the division; he had no guide, and was, 
 himself, totally ignorant of the situation of the town. 
 It was yet dark; and he had not the slightest knowl 
 edge of the course to be pursued, or of the defences to 
 
 *Alleo s Revolution. 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 233 
 
 be encountered. Thus circumstanced, it was thought 
 unadvisable to advance further. 
 
 As the glow, produced by immense exertion, gave way 
 to the cold, which was so intense that they were cover 
 ed with icicles, and as the ardour, excited by action, 
 subsided, when they were no longer engaged, even this 
 daring party became less animated. Whilst waiting in 
 total ignorance of the fate of the residue of the divi 
 sion, the darkness-of the night, the fury of the storm, 
 the scattering fire still kept up by the enemy, principal 
 ly in their rear, the paucity of their numbers, and the 
 uncertainty concerning their future operations, visibly 
 affected them. It was, after some deliberation, deter 
 mined to maintain their ground, while Morgan should 
 return to the barrier they had passed, for the purpose 
 of bringing up the troops who were supposed to be still 
 on the other side of it. 
 
 They were soon joined by Lieutenant-Colonel Greene 
 and Majors Bigelow and Meiggs, with several fragments 
 of companies, so as to constitute, altogether, about two 
 hundred men. 
 
 As the light of day began to appear, this small but 
 gallant parly was again formed, with Morgan s company 
 in front; and with one voice, they loudly called on him 
 to lead them against the second barrier, which was now 
 known to be less than forty paces from them, though 
 concealed by an angle of the street from their immediate 
 view. Seizing the few ladders brought with them, they 
 again rushed on to the charge, and on turning the angle, 
 were hailed by captain or lieutenant Anderson, who 
 was just issuing with a body of troops through the gate 
 of the barricade, for the purpose of attacking the Amer 
 icans, whom he had expected to find dispersed, and 
 probably plundering the town. Morgan, who was in 
 the front, answered his challenge by a ball through his 
 head, and as he fell, he was drawn within the barricade 
 and the gate closed upon the assailants, who received 
 at the same instant a tremendous fire frolri the windows 
 overlooking the barrier, and from the port-holes through 
 it. Ladders were immediately placed against the barri 
 cade, and for some time a fierce contest was maintained. 
 
234 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 which, on the part of the assailants, was also a bloody 
 one. A few of the holder, among the front files, ascend 
 ed the ladders under this deadly fire; and saw on the 
 other side of the barricade, double ranks of soldiers, 
 who, with their muskets planted on the ground, present 
 ed hedges of bayonets to receive them if they should 
 attempt to leap to the earth. Exposed thus, in a nar 
 row street, to a most galling fire, many of the assailants 
 threw themselves into the stone houses on each side, 
 which afforded them a shelter both from the storm, and 
 from the enemy; and through the windows of which 
 they kept up an irregular and not very effective fire. 
 One circumstance which greatly contributed to the ir 
 resolution, now displaying itself, was that scarcely more 
 than one in ten of their fire-arms could be used. Not 
 withstanding the precaution of tying handkerchiefs 
 around the locks, the violence of the storm had totally 
 unfitted them for service. Morgan soon found himst If 
 at the barrier with only a few officers and a small num 
 ber of soldiers. Yet he could not prevail on himself to 
 relinquish the enterprise. With a voice louder than the 
 tempest, he called on those who were sheltered in the 
 houses, to come forth and scale the barrier; but he call 
 ed in vain; neither exhortations nor reproaches could 
 draw them in sufficient numbers to the point of attack. 
 Being at length compelled to relinquish all hope of suc 
 cess, he ordered the few brave men who still adhered to 
 him, to save themselves in the houses, while he, accom 
 panied only by Lieut. Heth, returned towards the first 
 barrier, in order to concert with the field officers some 
 plan for drawing off the troops. He soon met Majors 
 Bigelow and Meiggs, to whom he proposed an immedi 
 ate retreat by the same route along which they had 
 marched to the attack. This proposition was assented 
 to, and Lieut. Heth was despatched to draw the troops 
 from their present situation."* 
 
 "In Montgomery, the Americans lost one of the bra 
 vest and most accomplished generals that ever led an 
 army to the field. But he was not more illustrious for 
 
 ^Marshall s Washington. 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 235 
 
 his skill and courage as an officer than he was estima 
 ble for his private virtues. He possessed a mind adorn 
 ed with every accomplishment, and a person in which 
 every manly grace shone with conspicuous lustre. His 
 was 
 
 "A combination, and a form indeed, 
 Where every God did seem to set his seal, 
 To give the world assurance of a man." 
 
 General Montgomery had borne the commission of a 
 Colonel in the war of 1759, and was fighting by the 
 side of Wolfe, when that Spartan hero fell. His bra 
 very and his worth were then acknowledged by the 
 British army,, and they were proud to regard him as a 
 friend and brother; but notwithstanding the many pro 
 fessions of attachment and esteem for his character, 
 his body would have been thrown with the heap of 
 slain, uncoffined and unmarked, into the same indiscrim 
 inate pit, but for the lieutenant-governor; who, urged by 
 the solicitations of the lady whom he afterward marri 
 ed, reluctantly procured a coffin of the roughest sort, 
 and thus apart from the rest, buried his former friend 
 and companion in arms. From this spot, after moulder 
 ing in the grave for more than forty-two years, the bones 
 of this gallant soldier were removed by his fellow-citi- 
 izens of New-York, and deposited in a tomb more wor 
 thy of him. 
 
 The resemblance in the character, conduct and desti 
 ny of Wolfe and Montgomery, is too striking to be pas 
 sed over without a remark. Montgomery had been in 
 some measure the pupil of Wolfe; under his guidance 
 he had learned the first rudiments of war; and in his 
 career of glory, he saw an example worthy of imitation. 
 We have seen the difficulties under which Wolfe had to 
 struggle, and we have seen the noble daring which led 
 him, perhaps against the suggestions of prudence, to at 
 tempt to surmount them. He lived, as he expressed 
 himself, but to fight Montcalm on equal ground this 
 accomplished he had consummated the only object of 
 his existence, and died "content" Wolfe was fighting 
 for his king, under the orders of his ministry, and here 
 lies the striking difference in the lives and fortunes of 
 
236 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 these heroes. Montgomery entered on the expedition 
 with the name of rebel. He ventured his fame, his 
 character, his life, in the service of revolted colonies 
 hut it was to secure to these colonies the enjoyment of 
 liberty under the rights of the constitution. For this he 
 sacrificed the tender endearments of conjugal felicity, 
 and at the head of an undisciplined body of men, pla 
 ced himself in opposition to a veteran general. The 
 skill which he displayed was equal to the fortitude which 
 such an enterprise demanded. He had not only to 
 contend against a formidable enemy, but against the 
 severities of a climate to which none of his men were 
 accustomed. His having in one night constructed a 
 battery of ice, \vi\\ at once show his military skill and in 
 dustry, and the intense coldness of the climate. With a 
 discontented, starving, and mutinous army, he pushed 
 boldly forward in search of that victory which had 
 cheered the parting moments of Wolfe. But destiny 
 had marked a different course for him; death arrested 
 his steps too soon. He was cut off in the onset, and 
 none was left to follow the plan which he had marked 
 out his last sigh was embittered by anticipated defeat. 
 Victory brings its own lustre; and when she entwines 
 her garlands around the head of an insensate corpse, 
 they seem from that single circumstance to display a 
 lovelier verdure: death gives a more touching interest, 
 a deeper pathos to the fate of the hero the million will 
 admire and posterity will always applaud. But how 
 does the tragedy deepen when the hero expires on the 
 field of battle, surrounded not by the beams of victory, 
 but by the darkness of defeat. He sees nothing to 
 cheer his parting moments nothing in anticipation but 
 public obloquy, and that reproach which seems insepa 
 rable from want of success. This reproach and this ob 
 loquy did pursue the shade of Montgomery: his heroism 
 was stigmatized with the character of rashness of in 
 sanity. But let it be remembered, that nothing but the 
 difference of a few hours in the term of his life prevented 
 that victory which consecrated the same rashness in 
 Wolfe, and impressed upon it the character of glory. 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 237 
 
 The turn of a die decides the fate of an army; and 
 the same thing is desperation in one, or the highest 
 effort of military skill in another, according as defeat or 
 success shall attend the enterprise. Posterity, that 
 looks at the records of history unbiassed, will observe 
 no difference in the merits of Wolfe and Montgomery. 
 They were both heroes both entitled to the chaplct of 
 immortal fame."* 
 
 To express the high sense entertained by his country 
 of his services, congress directed a monument of white 
 marble to be erected, with the following inscription; 
 which was placed in front of St. Paul s Church, New 
 York: 
 
 THIS MONUMENT 
 
 was erected by order of 
 Congress, 25th January, 1776, 
 
 to transmit to posterity 
 a grateful remembrance of the 
 
 PATRIOTISM, CONDUCT, ENTERPRISE 
 AND PERSEVERANCE 
 
 of Major-General 
 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
 
 who, after a series of successes, 
 amidst the most discour 
 aging difficulties, 
 fell in the attack on 
 
 QUEBEC, 
 
 31st December, 1775; 
 aged 39 years. 
 
 The remains of General Montgomery, after resting 42 
 years at Quebec, by the resolve of the state of N. York, 
 were brought to the city of New York, on the 8th of 
 July, 1818, and deposted with ample form, and grateful 
 ceremonies, near the aforesaid monument in St. Paul s 
 church. 
 
 -^American Revolution. 
 
238 WILLIAM MOULfRIE. 
 
 WILLIAM MOULTRIE, 
 
 Major General in the American Army. 
 
 THIS gentleman was a citizen of South Carolina, and 
 was a soldier from an early period of his life. At the 
 commencement of the revolution, he was among the 
 foremost to assert the liberties of his country; and bra 
 ved every danger to redress her wrongs. 
 
 The scene of his brilliant operations was in South 
 Carolina, and his gallant defence of Sullivan s island, 
 crowned him with immortality. 
 
 "General Lee styled the post at Sullivan s Island a 
 slaughter pen, denounced its defence, and pronouncing 
 disgrace on the measure, should it be persisted in, ear 
 nestly requested the president to order it to be evacu 
 ated. 
 
 Happily for the nation, its destinies were at that pe 
 riod guided by that inflexible patriot John Rutledge, 
 who confidently relying on iVioultrie, and his intrepid 
 band, heroically replied to Lee, "that while a soldier 
 remained alive to defend it, he would never give his 
 sanction to such an order." The result proved the ac 
 curacy of his judgment. The following laconic note 
 was at the same time forwarded to Colonel Moultrie. 
 "General Lee wishes you to evacuate the fort. You 
 will not without an order from me. I will sooner cut off 
 my hand than write one."* 
 
 The defence of the pass at Sullivan s Island may be 
 compared with many of the splendid achievements 
 which Grecian eloquence has rendered illustrious. Im 
 pressed with prejudices as strong as Xerxes ever cher 
 ished against Greece, the commanders of the British 
 forces approached our coast, not to conciliate, but to 
 subdue. Exulting in the supposed superiority of their 
 discipline and valour, they spoke in the language of au 
 thority, and would listen to no terms short of uncondi 
 tional submission. 
 
 On the other hand, the gallant Moultrie, commanding 
 a corps, formidable only by their boldness and resolution, 
 
 Garden s Anecdotes-. 
 
WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 239 
 
 impatiently awaited their approach. He was not 
 insensible of the insufficiency of a work hastily con 
 structed, and in every part incomplete; but considering 
 himself pledged to give a proof to the enemy of Ameri 
 can valour, he scorned the disgrace of relinquishing the 
 fort he had sworn to defend, and notwithstanding the 
 advice of the veteran Lee, heroically prepared for ac 
 tion. 
 
 Immediately on the approach of the British fleet to 
 the coast, with the evident intention of attacking 
 Charleston, a fort had been constructed on the west end 
 of Sullivan s Island, mounting thirty two guns, 32 s and 
 18 s. Into this fort, Moultrie and his gallant band threw 
 themselves. 
 
 "Two fifty gun ships of the enemy, four frigates, sev 
 eral sloops of war, and bomb-vessels, were brought to 
 the attack, which was commenced about eleven o clock 
 from one of the bomb-vessels. This was soon followed 
 by the guns of all the ships. Four of the vessels drop 
 ped anchor within a short distance of the fort and open 
 ed their several broadsides. Three others were ordered 
 to take their stations between the end of the island and 
 the city, intending thereby to enfilade the works as well 
 as to cut off the communication with the continent. But 
 in attempting to execute this order, they became en 
 tangled with each other on the shoals, and one of the 
 frigates, the ^cfeon^ stuck fast. 
 
 The roar of artillery upon this little fort was inces 
 sant, and enough to appal even those who had been ac 
 customed all their lives to the dreadful work of a can- 
 onade. But Moultrie, with his brave Carolinians, 
 seemed to regard it only as a symphony to the grand 
 march of independence. They returned the fire with 
 an aim as true and deliberate as though each British 
 ship had been placed as a target for prize shooting, and 
 continued it for several hours until their ammunition was 
 expended. The cessation which this necessarily occa 
 sioned, produced a momentary joy in the assailants, who 
 in imagination already grasped the victory which had 
 been so hotly disputed but the renewal of the blaze 
 from the batteries soon convinced them that the struggle 
 
24(J WILLIAM MOULT RIE. 
 
 was not yet ended. Another g eam of hope brightened 
 upon the British seamen, when, after a dreadful volley, 
 thefag of Moultrie was no longer seen to wave defiance. 
 They looked eagerly and anxiously towards the spot 
 where Clinton, Cornwallis, and Vaughan, had landed 
 with the troops, expecting every moment to see them 
 mount the parapets in triumph. But no British troops 
 appeared, and a few moments afterward, the striped 
 flag of the colonies, once more proudly unfolded to the 
 breeze ihe staff had been carried away by a shot, and 
 the flag had fallen on the outside of the works; a brave 
 sen<eat of the Carolina troops, by the name of Jasper* 
 jumped over the wall, seized the flag, and fastened it to 
 a sponge staff, mounted the merlon, amidst the thunder 
 of the enemy s guns, and fixed it in a conspicuous place. 
 
 The ships of the enemy kept up their fire with un 
 subdued courage, until half past nine o clock, when the 
 darkness of the night put a stop to the carnage on both 
 sides; and the ships, with the exception of the Jlcteon, 
 soon after slipped their cables, and dropped down about 
 two miles from the scene of action. The terrible slaugh 
 ter on board the ships bore melancholy testimony to the 
 bravery of the Bristish seamen. Atone time Captain 
 Morris, of the Bristol, was almost the only man left upon 
 the quarter deck. He had received several wounds, but 
 gallantly refused to quit the deck, until no longer able 
 to stand, or give an order. His ship had 111 killed 
 and wounded. The Experiment lost 99 killed and 
 wounded, and among the latter her commander, Captain 
 Scoff. The Acteon had a lieutenant killed and six men 
 wounded, and the Solcbay cilrlit wounded. The whole 
 killed and wounded 225. Sir Peter Parker, and Lord 
 William Campbell, who served as a volunteer, were 
 both wounded. The Americans lost only ten killed 
 and twenty-two wounded. 
 
 It is impossible to give too much praise to Colonel 
 Moultrie and his brave Carolinians, who for more than 
 ten hours sustained the continued fire of upwards of one 
 hundred guns and bombs; from which in the course of 
 that time were thrown more than ten thousand shot and 
 shells, seven thousand of which were picked up on the 
 next day. 
 
WILLIAM IMOULTRIE. 241 
 
 On the next day a few shot were fired from the gar 
 rison at the Actcon, which remained aground, and the 
 crew returned them, but finding it impossible to get her 
 off, they soon set fire to and abandoned her, leaving the 
 colours flying, the guns loaded, and all their ammunition 
 and stores. In this perilous situation she was boarded 
 by a small party of Americans, who fired three of the 
 guns at their late owners, while the flames were burst 
 ing around them, filled their boats with the stores, se 
 cured the flag, and just time to save themselves, when 
 she was blown into the air. 
 
 The fort which had been so gallantly defended by 
 MoulDrie, afterwards received his name."* 
 
 "In 1779, he gained a victory over the British, in the 
 battle near Beaufort. In 1780, he was second in com 
 mand, in Charleston, during the siege. After the city 
 surrendered he was sent to Philadelphia. In 1782, he 
 returned, and was repeatedly chosen governor of the 
 state of South Carolina, 
 
 Notwithstanding his labours, his victories, and pub 
 lic services, however zealous, however glorious, how 
 ever serviceable, the enemy had the audacity to make 
 choice of him as a fit object to be gained over to them 
 by bribery. His talents, his experience, and enterprise, 
 would be an invaluable acquisition to the enemy, if it 
 ould be employed on the continent; and if it could 
 not be so employed, then the depriving the Americans 
 of him would be of importance nearly as great; it was, 
 in the eyes of selfish, greedy enemy, highly probable 
 that a man who had suffered so much in his private 
 property, would listen to a proposal which would ena 
 ble him to go to Jamaica as colonel of a British regi 
 ment, the commander of which, Lord Charles Montague, 
 politely offered, as a proof of his sincerity, to quit the 
 command, and serve under him. 4 No, replied the in 
 dignant Moultrie, not the fee-simple of that valuable 
 island of Jamaica should induce me to part with my 
 integrity. 
 
 Allen s American Revolution 
 
 G2 
 
242 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 This incorruptible patriot died at Charleston, Septem 
 ber 27, 1805, in the seventy-sixth year of his age."* 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, who, through a regular graduation of 
 promotion, became the senior major general in the army 
 of the United States, and next in rank to General Wash 
 ington, was born at Salem, Mass, on the 7th day of 
 January, 1718. 
 
 Courage, enterprise, activity, and perseverance, were 
 the first characteristics of his mind ; and his disposition 
 was as frank and generous, as his mind .was fearless and 
 independent. Although he had too much suavity in his 
 nature to commence a quarrel, he had too much sensi 
 bility not to feel, and too much honor not to resent, an 
 intended insult. The first time he went to Boston, he 
 was insulted for his rusticity by a boy of twice his size 
 and age; after bearing sarcasms until his patience was 
 worn out, he challenged, engaged, and vanquished his 
 unmannerly antagonist, to the great diversion of a 
 crowd of spectators. While, a stripling, Ins ambition 
 was to perform the labour of a man, and to excel in ath 
 letic diversions. . 
 
 In the year 1739. he removed from Salem to Proir fret, 
 an inland fertile town in Connecticut. Having here pur 
 chased a considerable tract of land, he applied himself 
 successfully to agriculture. 
 
 "Our farmer, sufficiently occupied in building a house 
 and barn, felling woods, making fences, sowing grain, 
 planting orchards, and taking care of his stock, had to 
 encounter, in turn, the calamities occasioned by draught 
 in summer, blast in harvest, loss of cattle in winter, and 
 the desolation of his shcepfold by wolves. In one night 
 he had seventy fine sheep and goats killed, besides ma 
 ny lambs and kids wounded. This havoc was commit 
 ted by a she wolf, which, with her annual whelps, had 
 for several years infested the vicinity. 
 
 *Americao Biography. 
 
fell A EL PUTNAM. 242 
 
 This wolf at length became such an intolerable nui 
 sance, that MY Pimm in entered into a combination with 
 five of his neighbours to hfrnt alternately until they could 
 tlestroy her. Two, by rotation, were to be constantly in 
 pursuit. It was known that, having lost the toes from 
 one foot by a steel trap, she made one track shorter 
 than the other. By this vestige the pursuers recognised, 
 in a light snow, the route of this pernicious animal. 
 Having followed her to Connecticut River, and found 
 she had turned back in a direct course towards Pomfret, 
 they immediately returned; and by ten o clock the next 
 morning, the bloodhounds had driven her into a den, 
 about three miles distant from the house of Mr. Putnam. 
 The people soon collected, with dogs, guns, straw, fire, 
 and siflphur, to attack the common enemy. With this 
 aparatus several unsuccessful efforts were made to force 
 her from the den. The hounds came back badly wound 
 ed, and refused to return. The smoke of blazing straw 
 had no effect. Nor did the fumes of burnt brimstone, 
 with which the cavern was filled, compel her to quit the 
 retirement. Wearied with such fruitless attempts, 
 (which had brought the time at .ten o clock at night,) 
 Mr. Putnam tried once more to make his dogs enter, but 
 in vain; he proposed to his negro man to go down into 
 the cavern, and shoot the wolf, buiLthe negro declined 
 the hazardous service. Then it &s that the master, 
 angry at the disappointment, and declaring that he was 
 ashamed to have a coward in his i^giily, resolved him 
 self to destroy the ferocious beast, les\she should escape 
 through some unknown fissure of the rock. His neigh 
 bours strongly remonstrated against the perilous enter 
 prise; but he, knowing that wild animals were intimi 
 dated by fire, and having provided several strips of 
 birch bark, the only combustible material he could ob 
 tain, that would afford li^ht in this deep and darksome 
 cave, prepared for his descent. Having, accordingly, 
 divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and having 
 a long rope fastened round his legs, by which he might 
 be pulled back at a concerted signal, he entered head 
 foremost, with a blazing torch in his hand. 
 
244 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 The aperture of the den, on the east side of a very 
 high ledge of rocks, is about two feet square; from 
 thence it descends obliquely fifteen feet, then running 
 horizontally about ten more, it ascends gradually six 
 teen feet towards its termination. The sides of this 
 subterraneous cavity are composed of smooth and solid 
 rocks, which seem to have been divided from each other 
 by some former earthquake. The top and bottom are 
 also of stone; and the entrance, in winter, being cover 
 ed with ice, is exceedingly slippery. It is in no place 
 high enough for a man to raise himself upright, nor in 
 any part more than three feet in width. 
 
 Having groped his passage to the horizontal part of 
 the den, the most terrifying darkness appeared in front 
 of the dim circle of light afforded by his torch. It was 
 silent as the house of death. None but monsters of the 
 desert had ever before explored this solitary mansion of 
 horror. He, cautiously proceeded onward, came to the 
 ascent, which he slowly mounted on his hands and 
 knees until he discovered the glaring eyeballs of the 
 wolf, who was sitting at the extremity of the cavern. 
 Started at the sight of fire, she gnashed her teeth, and 
 gave a sullen growl. As soon as he had made the ne 
 cessary discovery, he kicked the rope, as a signal for 
 pulling him out. The people at the mouth of the den, 
 who had listened with painful anxiety, hearing the 
 growling of the wolf, and supposing their friend to be in 
 most imminent danger, drew him forth with such celer 
 ity that his shirt was stripped over his head, and his 
 skin severely lacerated. After he had adjusted his 
 clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck-shot, holding 
 a torch in one hand, and the musket in the other, he 
 descended the second time. When he drew nearer than 
 before, the wolf, assuming a still more tierce and terri 
 ble appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, snapping her 
 teeth, and dropping her head between her legs, was ev 
 idently in the attitude, and on the point of springing at 
 him. At this critical instant he levelled and fired at 
 her head. Stunned with the shock, and suffocated with 
 the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of 
 t he cave. But having refreshed himself, and permitted 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 243 
 
 the smoke to dissipate, he went down the third time ? 
 Once more he came within sight of the wolf, who ap 
 pearing very passive, he applied the torch to her nose, 
 and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her ears, and 
 then kicking the rope, (still tied round his legs,) the peo 
 ple above, with no small exultation, dragged them both 
 out together."* 
 
 But the time had now arrived, which was to turn the 
 implements of husbandry into weapons of hostility, and 
 to exchange the hunting of wolves, which had ravaged 
 the sheepfolds,for the pursuit of savages, who had des 
 olated the frontiers. Putnam was about 37 years of 
 age, when the war between England and France broke 
 out in America. In 1755 he was appointed to the com 
 mand of a company, in the first regiment of provincials 
 that was levied by Connecticut. The regiment joined 
 the army at the opening of the campaign, not far distant 
 from Crown Point. 
 
 "Soon after his arrival at camp, he became intimate 
 ly acquainted with the famous partisan Captain, after 
 ward Major Rogers, with whom he was frequently asso 
 ciated in traversing the wilderness, reconnoitering the 
 enemy s lines, gaining intelligence, and taking straggling 
 prisoners, as well as in beating up the quarters, and 
 surprising the advanced pickets of their enemy. For 
 these operations, a corps of rangers was formed from 
 the irregulars. The first time Rogers and Putnam were 
 detached with a party of these light troops, it was the 
 fortune of the latter to preserve, with his own hand, the 
 life of the former, and to cement their friendship with 
 the blood of one of their enemies. 
 
 The object of this expedition was to obtain an accu 
 rate knowledge of the position and state of the works 
 at Crown Point. It was impracticable to approach with 
 their party near enough for this purpose, without being 
 discovered. Alone, the undertaking was sufficiently 
 hazardous, on account of the swarms of hostile Indians 
 who infested the woods. Our two partisans, however, 
 left all their men at a convenient distance,, with strict 
 
 *Life of Putnam.. 
 
246 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 orders to continue concealed until their return. Having 
 thus cautiously taken their arrangements, they advan 
 ced with the profoundest silence in the evening; and lay 
 during the night contiguous to the fortress. Early in 
 the morning they approached so close as to be able to 
 give satisfactory information to the general who had 
 sent them, on the several points to which their attention 
 had been directed: but Captain Rogers, being at a little 
 distance from Captain Putnam, fortuitously met a stout 
 Frenchman, who instantly seized his fusee with one 
 hand, and with the other attempted to stab him, while 
 he called to an adjacent guard for assistance. The 
 guard answered. Putnam, perceiving the imminent 
 danger of his friend, and that no time was to be lost, or 
 further alarm given by firing, ran rapidly to them, while 
 they were yet struggling, and with the but end of his 
 priccfe laid the Frenchman dead at his feet. The parti 
 sans, to elude pursuit, precipitated their flight, joined 
 the party, and returned without loss to the encamp 
 ment/ * 
 
 The time for which the colonial troops engaged to 
 serve terminated with the campaign. Putnam was re- 
 appointed, and again took the field in 17.06. 
 
 "Few are so ignorant of war, as not to know that 
 military adventures in the night, are always extremely 
 liable to accidents. Captain Putnam, having been com 
 manded to reconnoitre the enemy s camp at The Ovens 
 near Ticondcroga, took the brave Lieutenant Robert 
 Durkee as his companion. In attempting to execute 
 these orders, h$ narrowly missed being taken himself in 
 the first instance, and killing his friend in the second. 
 It was customary for the British and provincial troops 
 to place their fires round their camp, which frequently 
 exposed them to the enemy s scouts and patroles. A 
 contrary practice then unknown in the English army, 
 prevailed among the French and Indians. The plan 
 was much more rational; they kept their fires in the 
 centre, lodged their men circularly at a distance, and 
 posted their sentinels in the surrounding darkness. Our 
 
 Life of Putnam. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 247 
 
 partisans approached the camp, and supposing; the sen 
 tries were- within the circle of fires, crept upon their 
 hands and knees with the greatest possible caution, un 
 til, to their utter astonishment, they found themselves in 
 the thickest of the enemy. The sentinels, discovering 
 them, fired, and slightly wounded Durkee in the thigh. 
 He and Putnam had no alternative. They fled. The 
 latter, being foremost, and scarcely able to see his hand 
 before him, soon plunged into a clay pit. Durkee, al 
 most at the identical moment, came tumbling after. 
 Putnam, by no means pleased at finding a companion, 
 and believing him to be one of the enemy, lilted his tom 
 ahawk to give the deadly blow, when Durkee, (who 
 had followed so closely as to know him) inquired wheth 
 er he had escaped unhurt. Captain Putnam instantly 
 recognising the voice, dropped his weapon, and both, 
 springing from the pit, made good their retreat to the 
 neighbouring ledges, amidst a shower of random shot. 
 There they betook themselves to alnr<re log, by the side 
 of which they lodged the remainder of the night. Be 
 fore they lay down. Captain PutiMin said he had a little 
 rum in his canteen, which could never be more accept 
 able or necessary; but on examining the canteen, which 
 hung under his rm, he found the enemy had pierced it 
 with their balls, and that there was not a drop of liquor 
 left. The next day he found fourteen bullet holes in his 
 blanket."* 
 
 Nothing worthy of remark happened during the course- 
 of this campaign, but the active services of Captain 
 Putnam on every occasion attracted the admiration of 
 the public, and induced the legislature of Connecticut to 
 promote him to a majority in 1757. 
 
 "In the winter of 1757, when Colonel Haviland was 
 commandant at Fort Edward, the barracks adjoining to 
 the northwest bastion took fire. They extended within 
 twelve feet of the magazine, which contained three 
 hundred barrels of powder. On its first discovery, the 
 fire raged with great violence. The commandant en 
 deavoured, in vain, by discharging some pieces of heavy 
 
 *Life of Putnam. 
 
248 ISKAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 artillery against the supporters of this flight of barracks, 
 to level them with the ground. Putnam arrived from the 
 island where he was stationed at the moment when 
 the blaze approached that end which was contiguous 
 to the magazine. Instantly a vigorous attempt was 
 made to extinguish the conflagration. A way was open 
 ed by a postern gate to the river, and the soldiers were 
 employed in bringing water; which he, having mounted 
 on a ladder to the eves of the building, received and 
 threw upon the flame. It continued, notwithstanding 
 their utmost efforts, to gain upon them. He stood, en 
 veloped in smoke, so near the sheet of fire, that a pair of 
 thick blanket mittens were burnt entirely from his hands. 
 He was supplied with another pair dipt in water. Col, 
 Haviland fearing that he would perish in the flames, 
 called to him to come down, but he entreated that he 
 might be suffered to remain, since destruction must in 
 evitably ensue if their exertions should be remitted. 
 The gallant Commandant, not less astonished than 
 charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any 
 more effects to be carried out of the fort, animated the 
 men to redoubled diligence, and exclaimed, "if we must 
 be blown up, we will go all together." At last, when 
 the barracks were seen to be tumbling, Putnam descend 
 ed, placed himself at the interval, and continued from 
 an incessant rotation of replenished buckets to pour 
 water upon the magazine. The outside planks were 
 alreadv consumed by the proximity of the fire, and as 
 only one thickness of timber intervened, the trepidation 
 now became general and extreme. Putnam, still un 
 daunted, covered with a cloud of cindars, and scorched 
 with the intensity of the heat, maintained his position 
 until the fire subsided, and the danger was wholly over. 
 He had contended for one hour and a half with that ter 
 rible element. His legs, his thighs, his arms, and his 
 face were blistered; and when he pulled off his second 
 pair of mittens,the skin from his hands and fingers follow 
 ed them. It was a month before he recovered. The 
 Commandant, to whom his merits had before endeared 
 him, could not stifle the emotions of gratitude due to the 
 man who had been so instrumental in preserving the 
 magazine, the fort, and the garrison. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM* 249 
 
 In the month of August, five hundred men were em 
 ployed, under the orders of Majors Rogers and Putnam, 
 lo watch the motions of the enemy near Ticonderoga. 
 At South Bay they separated the party into two equal 
 divisions, and Rogers took a position on Wood-Creek, 
 twelve miles distant from Putnam. 
 
 Upon being, some time afterward, discovered, they 
 formed a reunion, and concerted measures for returning 
 to Fort Edward. Their march through the woods was 
 in three divisions by FILES: the right commanded by Ro 
 gers, the left by Putnam, and the centre by Capt. D Ell. 
 At the moment of moving, the famous French partizan 
 Molang, who had been sent with five hundred men to 
 intercept our party, was not more than one mile and a 
 half distant from them. Major Putnam was just emer 
 ging from the thicket, into the common forest, \v\\ei\ the 
 enemy rose, and, with discordant yells and whoops, com 
 menced an attack upon the right of his div/sion. Sur 
 prised, but undismayed, Putnam halted, returned the fire, 
 and passed the word for the other divisions to advance 
 for his support. D Ell came. The action, though 
 widely scattered, and principally fought between man 
 and man, soon grew general ami intensely warm. 
 
 Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impracticable 
 to cross the creek in his rear, determined to maintain 
 his ground. Inspired by his example, the officers and 
 men behaved with great bravery ; sometimes they fought 
 aggregately in open view, and sometimes individually 
 under cover; taking aim from behind the bodies of trees, 
 and acting, in a manner, independent of each other. 
 For himself, having discharged his fusee several times, 
 at length it missed fire, while the muzzle was pressed 
 against the breast of a large and well proportioned sav 
 age. This warrior, availing himself of the indefensible 
 attitude of his adversary, with a tremendous war- 
 hoop, sprang forward, with his lifted hatchet, and com 
 pelled him to surrender; and, having disarmed and 
 bound him fast to a tree, returned to the battle. 
 
 The intrepid Captain D Ell and Harman, who now 
 commanded, were forced to give ground for a little dis 
 tance: the savages, conceiving this to be the certain 
 
 H2 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 harbinger of victory, rushed impetuously on, with dread 
 ful and redoubled cries. But our two partizans, col 
 lecting a handful of brave men, gave the pursuers so 
 warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to retreat 
 a little beyond the spot at which the action had com 
 menced. Here they made a stand. This change of 
 ground occasioned the tree to which Putnam was tied to 
 be directly between the fire of the two parties. Human 
 imagination can hardly figure to itself a more deplora 
 ble situation. The balls flew incessantly from either 
 side, many struck the tree, while some passed through 
 the sleeves and skirts of his coat. In this state of jeop 
 ardy, unable to move his body, to stir his limbs, or even 
 to incline his head, he remained more than an hour. So 
 equally balanced, and so obstinate was the fight! At 
 one moment, while the battle swerved in favour of the 
 enemy, R young savage chose an odd way of discover 
 ing his huinour. He found Putnam bound. He might 
 have despatched him at a blow. But he loved better 
 to excite the terrors of the prisoner, by hurling a toma 
 hawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object 
 was to see how near he could throw it without touching 
 him the weapon struck in the tree a number of times, 
 at a hair s breadth distant from the mark. When the 
 Indian had finished his amusement, a French bas-officer, 
 (a much more inveterate savage by nature, though de 
 scended from so humane and polished a nation,) per 
 ceiving Putnam, came tip to him, and, levelling a fusee 
 within a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it 
 it missed fire. Ineffectually did the intended victim so 
 licit the treatment due to his situation, by repealing 
 that he was a prisoner of war. The degenerate French 
 man did not understand the language of honour or of 
 nature: deaf to their voice, and dead to sensibility, he 
 violently, and repeatedly, pushed the muzzle of his gun 
 against Putnam s ribs, and finally gave him a cruel blow 
 on the jaw with the butt end of his piece. After this 
 dastardly deed he left him. 
 
 At length, the active intrepidity of D EIl and Har- 
 nuin, seconded by the persevering valour of their follow 
 ers, prevailed. They drove from the field the enemy, 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 251 
 
 who left about ninety dead behind them. As they were 
 retiring, Putnam was untied by the Indian who had made 
 him prisoner, and whom he afterward called master. 
 Having been conducted for some distance from the place 
 of action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings, 
 and shoes; loaded with as many of the packs of the 
 wounded as could be piled upon him; strongly pinioned, 
 and his wrists tied as closely together as they could be 
 pulled with a cord. After he had marched, through no 
 pleasant paths, in this painful manner, for many a tedi 
 ous mile, the party (who were excessively fatigued) 
 halted to breathe. His hands were now immoderately 
 swelled from the tightness of the ligature: and the pain 
 had become intolerable. His feet were so much scratch 
 ed, that the blood dropped fast from them. Exhausted 
 with bearing a burden above his strength, and frantic 
 with torments exquisite beyond endurance, he entreated 
 the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only 
 grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock 
 him on the head and take his scalp at once, or loose his 
 hands. A French officer, instantly interposing, ordered 
 his hands to be unbound, and some of the packs to be 
 taken off. By this time, the Indian who captured him, 
 and had been absent with the wounded, coming up, gave 
 him a pair of mockasons, and expressed great indigna 
 tion at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. 
 That savage chief again returned to the care of the 
 wounded, and the Indians, about two hundred in num 
 ber, went before the rest of the party to the place where 
 the whole were that night to encamp. They took with 
 them Major Putnam, on whom, besides innumerable 
 other outrages, they had the barbarity to inflict a deep 
 wound with the tomahawk in the left cheek. His suf 
 ferings were, in this place, to be consummated. A scene 
 of horror, infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes 
 before, was now preparing. It was determined to roast 
 him alive. For this purpose, they led him into a dark 
 forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, and 
 piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in a 
 circle round him. They accompanied their labours, as if 
 for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds inimita- 
 
252 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 ble but by savage voices. Then they set the piles on 
 fire. A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still 
 they strove to kindle it, until, at last, the blaze ran 
 fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon began to 
 feel the scorching heat. 
 
 His hands were so tied that he could move his body. 
 He often shifted sides as the fire approached. This 
 sight, at the very idea of which all but savages must 
 shudder, afforded the highest diversion to his inhuman 
 tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium of their joy 
 by correspondent yells, dances, and gesticulations. He 
 saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably come. 
 He summoned all his resolution, and composed his mind 
 as far as the circumstances could admit, to bid an eter 
 nal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the world 
 would scarcely have cost a single pang; but for the idea 
 of home, but for the remembrance of domestic endear 
 ments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of 
 their beloved offspring. His thought was ultimately 
 fixed on a happier state of existence, beyond the tor 
 tures he was beginning to endure. The bitterness of 
 death, even of that death which is accompanied with 
 the keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past nature, 
 with a feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sub 
 lunary things, when a French officer rushed through the 
 crowd, opened a way by scattering the burning brands, 
 and unbound the victim. It was Molang himself, to 
 whom a savage, unwilling to see another human sacri 
 fice immolated, had run and communicated the tidings. 
 That commandant spurned and severely reprimanded 
 the barbarians, whose nocturnal powwas and hellish 
 orgies he suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for 
 feeling or gratitude. The French commander, fearing 
 to trust him alone with them, remained until he could 
 deliver him in safety into the hands of his master. 
 
 The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seem 
 ed to treat him with particular affection. He offered 
 him some hard biscuit; but finding he could not chew 
 them, on account of the blow he had received from the 
 Frenchman, this more humane savage soaked some of 
 the biscuit in water, and made him suck the pulp-likr 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 253 
 
 part. Determined, however, not to lose his captive, (the 
 refreshment being finished,) he took the mocasons from 
 his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists: then direct 
 ing him to lie down on his hack upon the bare ground, he 
 stretched one arm to its full length, and pinioned it fast 
 to a young tree; the other arm was extended and bound 
 in the same manner his legs were stretched apart, and 
 fastened to two saplings. Then a number of tall, but 
 slender poles were cut down, which,, with some long 
 bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot: on 
 each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently 
 find lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his es 
 cape. In this disagreeable and painful posture he re 
 mained until morning. During this night, the longest 
 and most dreary conceivable, our hero used to relate 
 that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually across 
 his mind, and could not even refrain from smiling when 
 he reflected on this ludicrous groupe for a painter, of 
 which he himself was the principal figure. 
 
 The next day, he was allowed his blanket and moca 
 sons, and permitted to march without carrying any pack, 
 or receiving any insult. To allay his extreme hunger, 
 a little bears s meat was given, which he sucked through 
 his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticonderoga, 
 and the prisoner was placed under the care of a French 
 guard. The savages, who had been prevented from 
 glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took other op 
 portunity of manifesting their malevolence for the dis 
 appointment, by horrid grimaces and angry gestures; 
 but they were suffered no more to offer violence or per 
 sonal indignity to him. 
 
 After having been examined by the Marquis de 
 Montcalm, Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal 
 by a French officer, who treated him with the greatest 
 indulgence and humanity. 
 
 At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter 
 Schuyler, remarkable for his philanthrophy, generosity 
 and friendship, was of the number. No sooner had he 
 heard of Major Putnam s arrival, than he went to the 
 interpreter s quarters, and inquired whether he had a 
 Provincial Major in his custody. He found Major 
 
254 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 Putnam in a comfortless condition without coat, waist 
 coat, or hose the remnant of his clothing miserably 
 dirty and ragged his beard long and squallid his legs 
 torn by thorns and briers his face gashed by wounds, 
 and swollen with bruises. Col. Schuyler, irritated be 
 yond all sufferance at such a sight, could scarcely re 
 strain his speech within limits, consistent with the pru 
 dence of a prisoner, and the meekness of a Christian. 
 Major Putnam was immediately treated according to 
 his rank, clothed in a decent manner, and supplied with 
 money by that liberal and sympathetic patron of the 
 distressed. 
 
 The capture of Frontenac by General Bradstreet. 
 afforded occas on for an exchange of prisoners. CoL 
 Schuyler was comprehended in the cartel. A generous 
 spirit can never be satisfied with imposing tasks for its 
 generosity to accomplish. Apprehensive if it should 
 be known that Putnam was a distinguished partizan,his 
 liberation might be retarded, and knowing that there 
 were officers who, from the length of their captivity, 
 had a claim of priority to exchange, he had, by his hap 
 py address, induced the governor to offer, that whatever 
 officer he might think proper to nominate should be in 
 cluded in the present cartel. With great politeness in 
 manner, but seeming indifference as to object, he ex 
 pressed his warmest acknowledgments to the governor, 
 and said, There is an old man here, who is a Provin 
 cial major, and wishes to be at home with his wife and 
 children; he can do no good here or any where else: I 
 believe your Excellency had better keep some of the 
 young men, who have no wife nor children to care for, 
 and let the old fellow go home with me. This justifia 
 ble iinessfe had the desired effect.* 
 
 Shortly after, Putnam was promoted to a lieutenant 
 colonel, in which he continued until the close of the 
 war, ever, and on all occasions, supporting his hard s 
 earned reputation for valour and intrepidity; and, at 
 the expiration of ten years from his first receiving a 
 commission, after having seen as much service, endured 
 
 *Life of Putnam. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 255 
 
 as many hardships, encountered as many dangers, and 
 acquired as many laurels as any officer of his rank, with 
 great satisfaction laid aside his uniform and returned to 
 the plough. 
 
 On the 22d day of March, 1765, the stamp-act re 
 ceived the royal assent. Colonel Putnam was, at this 
 time, a member of the house of assembly of the state of 
 Connecticut, and was deputed to wait on the then Gov 
 ernor Fitch on the subject. The questions of the gov 
 ernor, and answers of Putnam, will serve to indicate the 
 spirit of the times. After some conversation, the gov 
 ernor asked Col. Putnam "what he should do if the 
 stamped paper should be sent him by the king s author 
 ity?" Putnam replied, "lock it up until we shall visit 
 you again." "And what will you do then?" "We shall 
 expect you to give us the key of the room in which it is 
 deposited ; and, if you think fit, in order to secure your 
 self from blame, you may forewarn us, upon our peril, 
 not to enter the room." "And what will you do after 
 ward?" "Send it safely back again." "But if I should 
 refuse admission?" "In such case, your house will be 
 demolished in five minutes." It is supposed that a re 
 port of this conversation was one reason why the stamp 
 paper was never sent from New York to Connecticut. 
 
 Being once, in particular, asked by a British officer, 
 with whom he had formerly served, "whether he did 
 not seriously believe that a well-appointed British army 
 of five thousand veterans could march through the 
 whole continent of America?" he briskly replied, "no 
 doubt, if they behaved civilly, and paid well for every 
 thing they wanted ; but," after a moment s pause, added, 
 "if they should attempt it in a hostile manner (though the 
 American men were out of the question,) the women, 
 with their ladles and broomsticks, would knock them all 
 on t.he head before they had got halfway through." 
 
 The battle of Lexington found Putnam in the midst 
 of his agricultural pursuits. Immediately, upon learn 
 ing the fatal rencontre, he left his plough in the middle 
 of the field, unyoked his team, and, without waiting to 
 change his clothes, set off for the theatre of action. But 
 finding the British retreated to Boston, and invested by 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 a sufficient force to watch their movements, he carne 
 back to Connecticut, levied a regiment under authority 
 of the legislature, and speedily returned to Cambridge. 
 He was now promoted to be a major-general on the con 
 tinental establishment. 
 
 "Not long after this period, the British commander-in- 
 chief found the means to convey a proposal, privately, 
 to General Putnam, that if he would relinquish the rebel 
 party, he might rely upon being made a major-general 
 on the British establishment, and receiving a great pe 
 cuniary compensation for his services. Gen. Putnam 
 spurned at the offer; which, however, he thought pru 
 dent at that time to conceal from public notice." 
 
 "In the battle of Bunker s Hill, he exhibited his usual 
 intrepidity. He directed the men to reserve their fire 
 till the enemy was very near, reminded them of their 
 skill, and told them to take good aim. They did so, 
 and the execution was terrible. After the retreat, he 
 made a stand at Winter Hill, and drove back the ene 
 my under cover of their ships. When the army was 
 organized by General Washington at Cambridge, Put 
 nam was appointed to command the reserve. In Au 
 gust, 177(3, he was stationed at Brooklyn, on Long- 
 Island. After the defeat of our army on the twenty- 
 seventh of that month, he went to New-York, and was 
 very serviceable in the city and neighbourhood. In Oc 
 tober or November he was sent to Philadelphia, to fortify 
 that city. 
 
 In January, 1777, he was directed to take post at 
 Princeton, where he continued until spring. At this 
 place, a sick prisoner, a captain, requested that a friend 
 in the British army at Brunswick might be sent for to 
 assist him in making his will. Putnam was perplexed. 
 He had but fifty men under his command, and he did 
 not wish to have his weakness known; yet he was un 
 willing to deny the request. He, however, sent a flag 
 of truce, and directed the officer to be brought in the 
 night. In the evening, lights were placed in all the 
 college windows, and in every apartment of the vacant 
 houses throughout the tn\vn. The officer, on his return, 
 reported that General Putnam s army could not consist 
 of less than four or five thousand men. 
 

 
 or 
 o 
 1 
 
. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 257 
 
 Iii the spring he was appointed to the command of a 
 separate army, in the Highlands of New York. One 
 Palmer, a lieutenant in the tory new levies, was de 
 tected in the camp; Governor Tryon reclaimed him as a 
 British officer, threatening vengeance if he was not res 
 tored. General Putnam wrote the following pithy re 
 ply: Sir, Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king s 
 service, was taken in my camp as a spy; he was tried 
 as a spy; he was condemned as a spy; and shall be 
 Jhanged as a spy. P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." 
 
 After the loss of Fort Montgomery, the Commander 
 in chief determined to build another fortification, and he 
 directed Putnam to fix upon a spot. To him belongs 
 the praise of having chosen Westpoint."* 
 
 "About the middle of winter, while General Putnam 
 was on a visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found 
 Governor Tryon advancing upon that town with a corps 
 of fifteen hundred men. To oppose these, Gen. Putnam 
 had only a picquet of 150 men, and two iron field-pie 
 ces, without horses or drag- ropes. He, however, plant 
 ed his cannon on the high ground, by the meeting house, 
 and retarded their approach by firing several times, un 
 til, perceiving the horse (supported by the infantry) 
 about to charge, he ordered the picquet to provide for 
 their safety, by retiring to a swamp inaccessible to 
 horse, and secured his own, by plunging down the steep 
 precipice at the church upon a full trot. This precipice 
 is so steep, where he descended, as to have artificial 
 stairs, composed of nearly one hundred stone steps, for 
 the accommodation of foot passengers. There the 
 dragoons, who were but a sword s length from him stop 
 ped short; for the declivity was so abrupt, that they 
 ventured not to follow; and, before they could gain the 
 valley, by going round the brow of the hill in the ordina 
 ry road, he was far enough beyond their reach. He. con 
 tinued his route, unmolested, to Stamford ; from whence, 
 having strengthened his picquet by the junction of some 
 militia, he came back again, and, in turn, pursued Gov 
 ernor Tryon in his retreat. As he rode down the 
 
 ; Allan s Biographical Doctionary. 
 
 12 
 
258 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 precipice, one ball, of the enemy fired at him, went 
 through his beaver; but Governor Tryon, by way of 
 compensation for spoiling his hat, sent him soon after 
 ward as a present, a complete suit of clothes." 4 
 
 The campaign of 1779, which was principally spent 
 in strengthening the works at West point, finished the 
 military career of Putnam. A paralytic affection im 
 paired the activity of his body, and compelled him to 
 quit the army. 
 
 "The remainder of the life of Gen. Putnam was pass 
 ed in quiet retirement with his family. He experienced 
 few interruptions in his bodily health, (except the para 
 lytic debility with which he was afflicted,) retained full 
 possession of his mental faculties, and enjoyed the so 
 ciety of his friends until the 17th of May, 1790, when he 
 was violently attacked with an inflammatory disease. 
 Satisfied from the first that it would prove mortal, he was 
 calm and resigned, and welcomed the approach of death 
 with joy, as a messenger sent to call him from a life of 
 toil to everlasting rest. On the 19th of May, 1790, he 
 ended a life which had been spent in cultivating and 
 defending the soil of his birth, aged 72 years." 
 
 The late Rev. Dr. Dwight, president of Yale College, 
 who knew Gen. Putnam intimately, has portrayed his 
 character faithfully, in the following inscription, which is 
 engraven on his tomb: 
 
 Sacred be this Monument 
 
 to the memory of 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, ESQ. 
 
 senior Major-General in the armies of the 
 
 United States of America ; 
 
 who 
 
 was born at Salem, 
 
 in the Province of Massachausetts, on the 7th day of 
 January, A. D. 1718, 
 
 and died 
 
 on the 19th day of May; A. D. 1790. 
 Passenger, 
 
 *Life of Putnam. 
 
JOSEPH REED. 259 
 
 if thou art a Soldier, drop a tear over the dust of a 
 
 Hero, who, 
 ever attentive to the lives and happiness of his men, 
 
 dared to lead 
 
 where any dared to follow; if a Patriot, 
 remember the distinguished and gallant services ren 
 dered thy country by the 
 Patriot who sleeps beneath this marble; 
 if thou art honest, generous, and worthy, render a cheer 
 ful tribute of respect to a man, 
 whose generosity was singular, whose honesty 
 
 was proverbial ; who 
 
 raised himself to universal esteem, and offices of emi 
 nent distinction, by personal worth, 
 and a useful life. 
 
 JOSEPH REED, 
 
 Adjutant General in the American Army. 
 
 "JOSEPH REED, president of the state of Pennsylvania, 
 was born in the state of New-Jersey, the 27th of Au 
 gust, A. D. 1741. In the year 1757, at the early age of 
 sixteen, he graduated with considerable honour, at 
 Princeton college. 
 
 Having studied the law with Richard Stockton, Esq. 
 an eminent counsellor of that place; he visited Eng 
 land and pursued his studies in the temple, until the 
 disturbances which first broke out in the colonies on the 
 passage of the stamp act. On his return to his native 
 country, he commenced the practice of the law, and 
 bore a distinguished part in the political commotions of 
 the day. Having married the daughtr of Dennis De 
 Berdt, an eminent merchant of London, and before the 
 American revolution, agent for the province of Massa 
 chusetts, he soon after returned to America, and prac 
 tised the law with eminent success in the city of Phila 
 delphia. 
 
 Finding that reconciliation with the mother country 
 was not to be accomplished without the sacrifice of 
 honour as well as liberty, he .became one of the most 
 zealous advocates of independence. In 1774, he was 
 
260 JOSEPH REED. 
 
 appointed one of the committee of correspondence ql 
 Philadelphia, and afterward president of the convention, 
 and subsequently, member of the continental congress. 
 On the formation of the army he resigned a lucrative 
 practice, which he was enjoying at Philadelphia, and 
 repaired to the camp at Cambridge, where he was ap 
 pointed aid-de-camp and secretary to General Wash 
 ington, and although merely acting as a volunteer, he 
 displayed in this campaign, on many occasions, the 
 greatest courage and military ability. At the opening 
 of the campaign in 1776, on the promotion of General 
 Gates, he was advanced, at the special recommendation 
 of General Washington, to the post of adjutant general, 
 and bore an active part in this campaign, his local 
 knowledge of the country being eminently useful in the 
 affair at Trenton, and at the battle of Princeton: in the 
 course of these events, and the constant follower of his 
 fortunes, he enjoyed the confidence and esteem of the 
 Commander in chief. At the end of the year he re 
 signed the office of adjutant general, and was immedi 
 ately appointed a general officer, with a view to the 
 command of cavalry, but owing to the difficulty of rais 
 ing troops, and the very detached parties in which they 
 were employed, he was prevented from acting in that 
 station. He still attended the army, and from the en 
 trance of the British army into Pennsylvania, till the 
 close of the campaign in 1777, he was seldom absent. 
 He was engaged at the battle of Germantown, and at 
 White iMarsh, assisted General Potter in drawing up the 
 militia. In 1778, he was appointed a member of Con 
 gress and signed the articles of confederation. 
 
 About this time the British commissioners, Governor 
 Johnstone, Lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden, invested with 
 the power to treat of peace, arrived in America, and 
 Governor Johnstone, the principal of them, addressed 
 private letters to Henry Laurens, Joseph Reed, Francis 
 Dana, and Robert Morris, offering them many advanta 
 ges in case they would lend themselves to his views. 
 Private information was communicated from Governor 
 Johnstone to General Reed, that, in case he would ex 
 ert his abilities to promote a reconciliation, 10,000 
 
JOSEPH REED. 26 1 
 
 pounds sterling, and the most valuable office in the col 
 onies, were at his disposal ; to which Mr. Reed made 
 this memorable reply: "that he was not worth purcha 
 sing, but that, such as he was, the king of Great Britain 
 was not rich enough to do it." These transactions caused 
 a resolution in Congress, by which they refused to 
 hold any further communication with that commissioner. 
 Governor Johnstone, on his return to England, denied in 
 parliament, ever having made such offers, in conse 
 quence of which General Reed published a pamphlet, 
 in which the whole transaction was clearly and satis 
 factorily proved, and which was extensively circulated 
 both in England and America. 
 
 In 1778, he was unanimously elected president of the 
 supreme executive council of the state of Pennsylvania, 
 to which office he was elected annually, with equal una 
 nimity, for the constitutional period of three years. 
 About this time there existed violent parties in the state, 
 and several serious commotions occurred, particularly a 
 large armed insurrection, in the city of Philadelphia, 
 which he suppressed, and rescued a number of distin 
 guished citizens from the most imminent danger of their 
 lives at the risk of his own, for which he received a vote 
 of thanks from the legislature of the state. 
 
 At the time of the defection of the Pennsylvania line, 
 Governor Reed exerted himself strenuously to bring 
 back the revolters, in which he ultimately succeeded. 
 Amidst the most difficult and trying scenes, his adminis 
 tration exhibited the most disinterested zeal and firm 
 ness of decision. In the civil part of his character, his 
 knowledge of the law was very useful in a new and un 
 settled government; so that, although he found in it no 
 small weakness and confusion, he left it at the expira 
 tion of his term of office, in as much tranquility and en 
 ergy as could be expected from the time and circum- 
 sces of the war. In the year 1781, on the expiration 
 of his term of office, he returned to the duties of his 
 profession. 
 
 General Reed was very fortunate in his military ca 
 reer, for, although he was in almost every engagement 
 in the northern and eastern section of the union, during 
 
262 JOSEPH REED. 
 
 the war, lie never was wounded: he had three horses 
 killed under him, one at the battle of Brandywine, one 
 in the skirmish at White Marsh, and one at the battle of 
 Monmouth. During the whole of the war he enjoyed 
 the confidence of Generals Washington, Greene, Wayne, 
 Steuben, La Fayette, and many others of the most dis 
 tinguished characters of the revolution, with whom he 
 was in the habits of the most confidential intercourse 
 and correspondence. The friendship that existed be 
 tween General Reed and General Greene, is particularly 
 mentioned by the biographer of General Greene. "A- 
 mong the many inestimable friends who attached them 
 selves to him, during his military career, there was no 
 one whom General Greene prized more, or more justly, 
 than the late Governor Reed, of Pennsylvania. It was 
 before this gentleman had immortalized himself by his 
 celebrated reply to the agent of corruption, that these 
 two distinguished patriots had begun to feel for each 
 other, the sympathies of congenial souls. Mr. Reed had 
 accompanied General Washington to Boston, when he 
 first took command of the American army ; there he be 
 came acquainted with Greene, and, as was almost inva 
 riably the case with those who became acquainted with 
 him, and had hearts to acknowledge his worth, a friend 
 ship ensued which lasted with their lives." Had the 
 life of General Reed been sufficiently prolonged, he 
 would have discharged, in a manner worthy of the sub 
 ject, the debt of national gratitude to which the efforts 
 of the biographer of General Greene have been success 
 fully dedicated, who had in his possession the outlines 
 of a sketch of the life of General Greene by this friend. 
 In the year 1784, he again visited England for the 
 sake of his health, but his voyage was attended with 
 but little effect, as in the following year he fell a victim 
 to the disease, most probably brought on by the fatigue 
 and exposure to which he was constantly subjected. In 
 private life, he was accomplished in his manners, pure 
 in his morals, fervent and faithful in his attachments. 
 
 On the 5th of March, 1785, in the 43d year of his 
 age, too soon for his country and his friends, he depar 
 ted a life, active, useful, and glorious. His remains 
 
PHILIP SCHUYLEfc. 263 
 
 were interred, in the Presbyterian ground, in Arch-street, 
 in the city of Philadelphia, attended by the president 
 and executive council, and the speaker and the general 
 assembly of the state." 
 
 PHILIP SCHUYLER, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. SCHUYLER was a native of New-York, a member 
 of one of the most respectable families in that state, 
 and highly merits the character of an intelligent and 
 meritorious officer. As a private gentleman he was 
 dignified but courteous, his manners urbane, and his hos 
 pitality unbounded. He was justly considered as one 
 of the most distinguished champions of liberty, and his 
 noble mind soared above despair, even at a period when 
 he experienced injustice from the public, and when dark 
 ness and gloom overspread the land. He was able, 
 prompt, and decisive, and his conduct in every branch 
 of duty, marked his active industry and rapid execution. 
 
 He received his commission from Congress, June 19th, 
 1776, and was ordered to take command of the expedi 
 tion against Canada; but, being taken sick, the com 
 mand devolved upon Gen. Montgomery. On his recove 
 ry he devoted his time, and with the assistance of Gen. 
 St. Clair, used every effort to stay the progress of a vet 
 eran and numerous army under Burgoyne, who had com 
 menced his march from Canada, on the bold attempt of 
 forming a junction at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton. 
 
 The duties of Gen. Schuyler now became laborious, 
 intricate, and complicated. On his arrival at head quar 
 ters he found the army of the north not only too weak 
 for the objects intrusted to it, but also badly supplied with 
 arms, clothes, and provisions. From a spy he obtained 
 information that General Burgoyne had arrived at Que 
 bec, and was to take command of the British force on 
 their contemplated expedition. 
 
 " A few days removed the doubts which might have 
 existed respecting the intentions of Burgoyne. It was 
 understood that his army was advancing towards the 
 lakes. 
 
264 JOSEPH SCHUYLER. 
 
 General Schuyler was sensible of the danger which 
 threatened his department, and made every exertion to 
 meet it. He visited in person the different posts, used 
 the utmost activity in obtaining supplies of provisions to 
 enable them to hold out in the event of a siege, and had 
 proceeded to Albany both for the purpose of attending 
 to the supplies and of expediting the march of Nixon s 
 brigade, whose arrival was expected; when he received 
 intelligence from Gen. St. Clair, who was intrusted with 
 the defence of Ticonderoga, that Burgoyne had appea 
 red before that place. 
 
 In the course of the preceding winter a plan for pene 
 trating to the Hudson from Canada by the way of the 
 lakes, was completely digested^ and its most minute 
 parts arranged in the cabinet of St. James. Gen. Bur 
 goyne, who assisted in forming it, was intrusted with its 
 execution, and was to lead a formidable army against 
 Ticonderoga, as soon as the season would permit. At 
 the same time a smaller party, under Col. St. Leger, 
 composed of Canadians, new raised Americans, and a 
 few Europeans, aided by a powerful body of Indians, 
 was to march from Oswego, to enter the country by the 
 way of the Mohawk, and to join the grand army on the 
 Hudson. 
 
 The force assigned for this service was such as the 
 General himself deemed sufficient; and, as it was the 
 favourite plan of the minister, no circumstance was omit 
 ted which could give to the numbers employed their ut 
 most possible efficacy. The troops were furnished with 
 every military equipment which the service required; 
 the assisting general officers were of the first reputation, 
 and the train of artillery was, perhaps, the most power 
 ful ever annexed to an armv not more numerous. " 
 
 But valour, perseverance, and industry could avail 
 nothing against such vast numbers as now assailed the 
 northern army. Ticonderoga was evacuated, and stores, 
 artillery, and military equipage, to an immense amount, 
 fell into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 " Knowing the inferiority of his numbers, and that he 
 could only hope to save his army by the rapidity of his 
 
 * Annual Register. 
 
JOSEPH SCHUYLER. 265 
 
 march, General St. Clair reached Charlestown, thirty 
 miles from Ticonderoga, on the night succeeding the 
 evacuation of the fort. 
 
 On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on his way to Ti 
 conderoga, General Schuyler was informed of the evacu 
 ation of that place; and on the same day, at Saratoga, 
 the total loss of the stores at Skeensborough, was also 
 reported to him. From General St. Clair he had heard 
 nothing, and the most serious fears were entertained for 
 the army commanded by that officer. His force, after be 
 ing joined by Col. Long, consisted of about fifteen hun 
 dred continental troops, and the same number of militia. 
 They were dispirited by defeat, without tents, badly ar 
 med, and had lost a great part of their stores and bag 
 gage. That part of the country was generally much 
 alarmed, and even those who were well affected discov 
 ered, as is usual in such circumstances, more inclination 
 to take care of themselves, than to join the army. 
 
 Jn this gloomy state of things, it is impossible that 
 any officer could have used more diligence or judgment, 
 than was displayed by Schuyler. 
 
 After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne found it. 
 absolutely necessary to suspend for a time all further 
 pursuit, and to give his army some refreshment. 
 
 In the present state of things, unable even to look the 
 enemy in the face, it was of unspeakable importance to 
 the American general to gain time. This short and un 
 avoidable interval from action, therefore, was seized by 
 Schuyler, whose head-quarters were at Fort Edward, 
 and used to the utmost advantage. 
 
 The country between Skeensborough and Fort Ed 
 ward was almost entirely unsettled, covered with thick 
 woods, of a surface extremely rough, and much intersec 
 ted with creeks and morasses. As far as Fort Anne, 
 Wood-creek was navigable with batteaux; and artille 
 ry, military stores, provisions, and heavy baggage might 
 be transported up it. 
 
 The first moments of rest while Burgoyne was re-as 
 sembling his forces at Skeensborough, were employed by 
 Schuyler in destroying the navigation of Wood-creek, by- 
 sinking numerous impediments in its course ; and in 
 
 K2 
 
266 JOSEPH SCHUTLER. 
 
 breaking up the bridges, and otherwise rendering impas 
 sable the roads over which the British army must neces- 
 sarilly march. He was also indefatigable in driving 
 all the live stock out of the way, and in bringing from 
 Fort George to Fort Edward, ammunition arid other 
 military stores which had been deposited at that place, 
 of which his army was in much need, and which it was 
 essential to bring away before the British could remove 
 their gun boats and army into the luke, and possess 
 themselves of the fort. 
 
 While thus endeavouring to obstruct the march of the 
 enemy, he was not inattentive to the best means of 
 strengthening his own army. Reinforcements of regu 
 lar troops were earnestly solicited. The militia of New- 
 England and New-York were called for, and all his in 
 fluence in the surrounding country was exerted to reani 
 mate the people, and to prevent their defection from the 
 American cause. 
 
 The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock for 
 which no part of the United States was prepared. Nei 
 ther the strength of the invading army nor of the garri 
 son, had been any where understood. The opinion was 
 common that no reinforcements had arrived at Que 
 bec that spring, in which case it was believed that not 
 more than five thousand men could be spared from the 
 defence of Canada. Those new raised regiments of 
 New-England and New-York, which had been allotted 
 to the northern department, had been reported, and were 
 believed by the Commander in chief, and by Congress, 
 as well as by the community at hirge, to contain a much 
 greater number of effectives than they were found actu 
 ally to comprehend. In addition to these, the officer 
 commanding the garrison, was empowered to call to his 
 aid such bodies of militia as he might deem necessary 
 for the defence of his post. A very few days before 
 the place was invested, General Schuyler, from an in 
 spection of the muster rolls, had stated the garrison 
 to amount to five thousand men, and the supply of pro 
 visions to be abundant. When, therefore, it was under 
 stood that a place, on the fortifications of which much 
 money and labour had been expended; which was con- 
 
JOSEPH SCHUYLER. 267 
 
 sidered as the key to the whole western country, and 
 supposed to contain a garrison nearly equal to the inva 
 ding army, had been abandoned without a siege; that 
 an immense train of artillery, consisting of one hundred 
 an.l twenty-eight pieces, and all the baggage, military 
 stores, and provisions, had either fallen into the hands 
 of the enemy, or been destroyed; that the army on its 
 retreat had been attacked, defeated and dispersed; as 
 tonishment pervaded all ranks of men; and the conduct 
 of the officers was almost universally condemned. Con 
 gress directed a recall of all the generals of the depart 
 ment, and an inquiry into their conduct. Through New- 
 England especially, the most malignant aspersions were 
 cast on them; and General Schuyler, who, from some 
 unknown cause, had never been viewed with favour in 
 that part of the continent, was involved in the common 
 charges of treachery, to which this accumulation of un 
 looked-for calamity was very generally attributed by 
 the mass of the people. 
 
 On the representations of General Washington, the 
 recall of the officers was suspended until he should be of 
 opinion that the state of things would admit of such a 
 measure; and on a very full inquiry afterward made 
 into the conduct of the generals, they were acquitted of 
 all blame. 
 
 When the resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry 
 into the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, appointing a 
 committee to report on the mode of conducting the in 
 quiry, and, in the meanwhile, recalling them and all the 
 brigadiers who had served in that department, General 
 Washington was requested to name a successor to 
 Schuyler. On expres*sing a wish to decline this nomi 
 nation, and representing the inconvenience of remo 
 ving all the general officers; Gates was again directed 
 to repair thither, and take the command ; and the reso 
 lution to recall the brigadiers was su*peuded, until the 
 Commander in chief should be of opinion that it might 
 be carried into effect with safety. 
 
 Schuyler retained the command until the arrival of 
 Gates, which was about the 21st of August, and con 
 tinued his exertions to restore the affairs of the depart- 
 
268 PHILIP SCHUVLER. 
 
 inent, wliich had been so much depressed by the fosses 
 consequent on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. That 
 officer felt acutely the disgrace of being recalled in this 
 critical and interesting state of the campaign. " It is," 
 said he in a letter to the Commander in chief, "matter 
 of extreme chagrin to me, to be deprived of the com 
 mand at a time when, soon if ever, we shall probably be 
 enabled to face the enemy ; when we are on the point of 
 taking ground* where they must attack to a disadvan 
 tage, should our force be inadequate to facing them in the 
 field; when an opportunity will in all probability occur, 
 in which I might evince that I am not what congress 
 have too plainly insinuated by the resolution taking the 
 command from me." 
 
 If error be attributed to the evacuation of Ticonde- 
 roga, certainly no portion of it was committed by Schuy- 
 ler. His removal from the command was probably un 
 just and severe, as the measure respected himself."f 
 
 The patriotism and magnanimity displayed by the ex- 
 general, on this occasion, does him high honour. All 
 that could have been effected, to impede the progress of 
 the British army, had been done already. Bridges were 
 broken up, causeways destroyed, trees felled in every 
 direction to retard the conveyance of stores and artil 
 lery. 
 
 "On Gate s arrival General Schuyler, without the 
 slightest indication of ill humour, resigned his command, 
 communicated all the intelligence he possessed, and put 
 every interesting paper into his hands, simply adding, 4 
 have done all that could be done, as far as the means 
 were in my power, to injure the enemy, and to inspire 
 confidence in the soldiers of our own army, and I Hatter 
 myself with some success; but the palm of victory is 
 denied me, and it is left to you, General, to reap the fruits 
 of my labours. I will not fail, however, to second your 
 views; and my devotion to my country will cause me 
 with alacrity to obey all your orders. He performed 
 his promise, and faithfully did his duty, till the surrender 
 of Burgoyne put an end to the contest. 
 
 The island on the north of the Mohawk, 
 f Marshall s life of Washington. 
 
JOHN STARK. 269 
 
 Another anecdote is recorded to his honour. General 
 Burgoyne, dining with General Gates immediately after 
 the convention of Saratoga, and hearing Gen. Schuyler 
 named among the officers presented to him, thought it 
 necessary to apologize for the destruction of his elegant 
 mansion a few days before, by his orders. Make no ex 
 cuses, General, was the reply ; I feel myself more than 
 compensated by the pleasure of meeting you at this ta 
 ble. "* 
 
 The court of inquiry, instituted on the conduct of 
 Generals Schuyler and St. Glair, resulted with the high 
 est honour to them. 
 
 General Schuyler though not invested with any dis 
 tinct command, continued to render important services 
 in the military transactions of New York, until the close 
 of the war. 
 
 He was a member of the old congress ; and repre 
 sented the state of New York in the senate of the Uni 
 ted States, when the present government commenced its 
 operations. In 1797 he was again appointed a senator. 
 
 He died at Albany, November 18th, 1804, in the sev 
 enty-third year of his age. 
 
 JOHN STARK, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. STARK was a native of New-Hampshire, and was 
 born in Londonderry, August 17th, 1728. From his 
 early youth he had been accustomed to the alarm of war, 
 having lived in that part of the country which was con 
 tinually subject to the incursions of the savages. While 
 a child he was captured by them, and adopted as one of 
 their own ; but after a few years was restored. 
 
 Arrived at manhood, his manners were plain, honest, 
 and severe; excellently calculated for the benefit of so 
 ciety in the private walks of life: and as a courageous 
 and heroic soldier, he is entitled to a high rank among 
 those who have been crowned with unfading laurels, and 
 to whom a large share of glory is justly due. He was 
 
 ^Garden s Anecdotes. 
 
270 JDHN STARk. 
 
 captain of a company of rangers in the provincial ser 
 vice, during the French war in 1755. 
 
 From the commencement of the difficulties with the 
 mother country, until the closing scene of the revolution, 
 our country found in General Stark one of its most res 
 olute, independent, and persevering defenders. The 
 first call of his country found him ready. When the 
 report of Lexington battle reached him, he was enga 
 ged at work in his saw-mill: fired with indignation and 
 a martial spirit, he immediately seized his musket, and 
 with a band of heroes proceeded to Cambridge. The 
 morning after his arrival he received a colonel s commis 
 sion, and availing himself of his own popularity, and 
 the enthusiasm of the day, in two hours he enlisted eight 
 hundred men. On the memorable 17th of June, at 
 Breed s Hill, Colonel Stark, at the head of his back 
 woodsmen of New-Hampshire, poured on the enemy 
 that deadly fire from a sure aim, which effected such re 
 markable destruction in their ranks, and compelled them 
 twice to retreat. During the whole of this dreadful 
 conflict, Colonel Stark evinced that consummate brave 
 ry and intrepid zeal, which entitle his name to perpetu 
 al remembrance. 
 
 His spirit pervaded his native state, and excited them 
 to the most patriotic efforts. The British General Bur- 
 goyne, in one of his letters, observes, "That the Hamp 
 shire Grants, almost unknown in the last war, now a- 
 bound in the most active and most rebellious race on the 
 continent, and hang like a gathering storm upon ray 
 left." 
 
 Distinct from his efforts in rallying the energies of his 
 native state, he obtained great credit in the active ope 
 rations of the field. At that gloomy period of the rev 
 olution, the retreat of Washington through New Jersey 
 in 1776, when the saviour of our country, apparently 
 deserted of Heaven and by his country, with the few 
 gallant spirits who gathered the closer around him in 
 that dark hour, precipitately fled before an imperious 
 and victorious enemy it was on this occasion, that the 
 persevering valour of Stark enrolled him among the 
 firm and resolute defenders of their country ; and, with 
 them, entitles him to her unceasing gratitude. 
 
JOHN STARK. 271 
 
 But as he fearlessly shared with Washington the dark 
 and gloomy night of defeat, so also he participated with 
 him in the joy of a hright morning of victory and hope. 
 In the successful enterprise against Trenton, Stark, then 
 a colonel, acted a conspicuous part, and covered himself 
 with glory. General Wilkinson in his memoirs says, 
 "I must not withhold due praise from the dauntless 
 Stark, who dealt death wherever he found resistance, 
 and broke down all opposition before him." 
 
 Soon after this affair. Colonel Stark, from some sup 
 posed injustice toward him on the part of congress, quit 
 ted the continental service, and returned to New Hamp 
 shire. 
 
 "When he was urged by the government of New 
 Hampshire to take the command of their militia, he re 
 fused, unless he should be left at liberty to serve or not r 
 under a continental officer, as he should judge proper. 
 It was not a time for debate, and it was known that the 
 militia would follow wherever Stark would lead. The 
 assembly therefore invested him with a separate com 
 mand, and gave him orders to repair to Charlestown,on 
 Connecticut River; there to consult with a committee 
 of the New-Hampshire Grants, respecting his future op 
 erations, and the supply of his men with provisions; to 
 take the command of the militia, and march into the 
 Grants; to act in conjunction with the troops of that 
 new state, or any other of the states, or of the United 
 States, or separately as it should appear expedient to 
 him ; for the protection of the people, and the annoyance 
 of the enemy. * 
 
 Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded in a few 
 days to Charlestown; his men very readily followed; 
 and as fast as they arrived, he sent them forward to 
 join the troops of Vermont under Colonel Warner, who 
 had taken his situation at Manchester. At that place 
 he joined Warner with about 800 men from New-Hamp 
 shire, and found another body of men from Vermont, who 
 put themselves under his command; and he was at the 
 head of fourteen hundred men. Most of them had been 
 
 *Belknap s History N. Hampshire. 
 
272 JOHN STARK. 
 
 in the two former campaigns, and well officered: ad 
 were in every respect a body of very good troops. 
 Schnyler repeatedly urged Stark to join the troops under 
 his command ; but he declined complying. He was led 
 to this conduct not only by the reasons which have been 
 mentioned, but by a difference of opinion as to the best 
 method of opposing Burgoyne. Schnyler wished to col 
 lect all the American troops in the front, to prevent Bur 
 goyne from marching on to Albany. Stark was of opin 
 ion that the surest way to check Burgoyne was to have 
 a body of men on his rear; ready to fall upon him in 
 that quarter, whenever a favourable opportunity should 
 present. The New-England militia had not formed a 
 high opinion of Schuyler, as a general; and Stark meant 
 to keep himself in a situation, in which he might em 
 brace any favourable opportunity for action, either in 
 conjunction with him, or otherwise; and with that view 
 intended to hang on the rear of the British troops, and 
 embrace the first opportunity which should present, to 
 make an attack upon that quarter. But Stark assured 
 Schuyler that he would join in any measures necessary 
 to promote the public good, but wished to avoid any 
 thing that was not consistent with his own honour; and 
 if it was thought necessary, he would march to his camp. 
 He wrote particularly, that he would lay aside all pri 
 vate resentment, when it appeared in opposition to the 
 public good. But in the midst of these protestations, 
 he was watching for an opportunity to discover his cour 
 age and patriotism, by falling upon some part of Bur- 
 goyne s army. 
 
 While the American army was thus assuming a more 
 respectable appearance, General Burgoyne was making 
 very slow advances towards Albany. From the twen 
 ty-eighth of July to the fifteenth of August, the British 
 army was continually employed in bringing forward bat- 
 teaux, provisions, and ammunition, from Fort George to 
 the first navigable part of Hudson s River; a distance of 
 not more than eighteen miles. The labour was exces 
 sive: the Europeans were but little acquainted with the 
 methods of performing it to advantage, and the effect was 
 in no degree equivalent to the expense of labour and 
 
JOHN STARK. 273 
 
 time. With all the efforts that Burgoyne could make, 
 encumbered with his artillery and baggage, his labours 
 were inadequate to the purpose of supplying the army 
 with provisions for its daily consumption, and the estab 
 lishment of the necessary magazines. And after his 
 utmost exertions for fifteen days, there were not above 
 four days provisions in the store, nor above ten bat- 
 teaux in Hudson s River. 
 
 In such circumstances, the British general found that 
 it would be impossible to procure sufficient supplies of 
 provisions by the way of Fort George, and determined 
 to replenish his own magazines, at the expense of those 
 of the Americans. Having received information that a 
 large quantity of stores were laid up at Bennington, and 
 guarded only by the militia, he formed the design of sur 
 prising that place; and was made to believe that as 
 soon as a detachment of the royal army should appear 
 in that quarter, it would receive effectual assistance 
 from a large body of loyalists, who only waited for the 
 appearance of a support, and would in that event come 
 forward and aid the royal cause. Full of these expect 
 ations, he detached Colonel Baum, a German officer, 
 with a select body of troops, to surprise the place. His 
 force consisted of about five hundred regular troops, 
 some Canadians, and more than one hundred Indians, 
 with two light pieces of artillery. To facilitate their 
 operations, and to be ready to take advantage of the 
 success of the detachment, the royal army moved along 
 the east bank of Hudson s River, and encamped nearly 
 opposite to Saratoga ; having at the same time thrown a 
 bridge of rafts over the river, by which the army passed 
 to that place. With a view to support Baum, if it should 
 be found necessary, Lieutenant-Col. Breyman s ccrps, 
 consisting of the Brunswick grenadiers, light-infantry 
 and chasseurs, were posted at Battenkill. 
 
 General Stark having received information that a 
 party of Indians were at Cambridge, sent Lieutenant 
 Colonel Greg, on August the thirteenth, with a party of 
 two hundred men, to stop their progress. Toward night, 
 he was informed by express that a large body of regu 
 lars was in the rear of the Indians, and advancing 
 
 L2 
 
274 JOHN STARK. . 
 
 j^ 
 
 toward Bennington. On this intelligence, Stark drew 
 together his brigade, and the militia that were at hand, 
 and sent on to Manchester to Colonel Warner, to bring 
 on his regiment; he sent expresses at the same time to 
 the neighbouring militia, to join him with the utmost 
 speed. On the morning of the fourteenth he marched 
 with his troops, and at the distance of seven miles he 
 met Greg on the retreat, and the enemy within a mile of 
 him. Stark drew up his troops in order of battle; but 
 the enemy coming in sight, halted upon a very advanta 
 geous piece of ground. Baum perceived the Americans 
 were too strong to be attacked with his present force, 
 and sent an express to Burgoyne with an account of his 
 situation, and to have Breyman march immediately to 
 support him. In the mean time small parties of the 
 Americans kept up a skirmish with the enemy, killed 
 and wounded thirty of them, with two of their Indian 
 chiefs, without any loss to themselves. The ground the 
 Americans had taken, was unfavourable fora general 
 action, and Stark retreated about a mile, and encamp* d. 
 A council of war was held, and it was agreed to send 
 two detachments upon the enemy s rear, while the rest 
 of the troops should make an attack upon their front 
 The next day the weather was rainy, and though it pre 
 vented a general action, there were frequent skirmish 
 ings in small parties, which proved favourable and en 
 couraging to the Americans, 
 
 On August the sixteenth, in the morning, Stark was 
 joined by Colonel Symonds and a body of militia from 
 Berkshire, and proceeded to attack the enemy, agreea 
 bly to the plan which had been concerted. Colonel 
 Baum in the mean time had entrenched, on an advanta 
 geous piece of ground near St. Koicks mills, on a branch 
 of Hoosic river; and rendered his post as strong as his 
 circumstances and situation would admit. Col. Nichols 
 was detached with two hundred men to the rear of his 
 left, Colonel Herrick, with three hundred men to the 
 rear of his right; both were to join, and then make the 
 attack. Colonel Hubbardand Stickney, with two hun 
 dred more were ordered on the right, and one hundred 
 were advanced toward the front to draw the attention 
 
JOHN STARK. 275 
 
 
 
 t*f the enemy that way. About three o clock in the 
 afternoon the troops had taken their station, and were 
 ready to commence the action. While Nichols and 
 Herrick were bringing their troops together, the Indians 
 were alarmed at the prospect, and pushed off between 
 the two corps; but received a fire as they were passing, 
 by which three of them were killed, and two wounded. 
 Nichols then began the attack, and was followed by all 
 the other divisions; those in the front immediately ad 
 vanced, and in a few minutes the action became gener 
 al. It lasted about two hours, and was like one con 
 tinued peal of thunder. Baum made a brave defence; 
 and the German dragoons, after they had expended their 
 ammunition, led by their colonel, charged with their 
 swords, but they were soon overpowered. Their works 
 were carried on all sides, their two pieces of cannon 
 were taken, Colonel Baum himself was mortally wound 
 ed and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a few, 
 who had escaped into the woods, were either killed or 
 taken prisoners. Having completed the business by 
 taking the whole party, the militia began to disperse and 
 look out for plunder. But in a few minutes Stark receiv 
 ed information that a large reinforcement was on their 
 march, and within two miles of him. Fortunately at 
 that moment Colonel Warner came up with his regi 
 ment from Manchester. This brave and experienced 
 officer commanded a regiment of continental troops, 
 which had been raised in Vermont. Mortified that he 
 had not been in the former engagement, he instantly led 
 on his men against Breyman, and began the second en 
 gagement. Stark collected the militia as soon as possi 
 ble, and pushed on to his assistance;. Tne action be 
 came general, and the battle continued odstinate on both 
 sides till sunset, when the Germans were forced to give 
 way, and were pursued till dark. They left their two 
 field pieces behind, and a considerable number were 
 made prisoners. They retreated in the best manner 
 they could, improving the advantages of the evening and 
 night, to which alone their escape was ascribed. 
 
 In these actions the Americans took four brass field- 
 pieces,twelve brass drums, two hundred and fifty dragoon 
 
JOHN STARK. 
 
 swords, four ammunition wagons, and about seven hun 
 dred prisoners, with their arms and accoutrements. 
 Two hundred and seven men were found dead upon the 
 spot, the numbers of wounded were unknown. The 
 loss of the Americans was but small; thirty were slain, 
 and about forty were wounded. Stark was not a little 
 pleased to have so fair an opportunity to vindicate his 
 own conduct. He had now shown that no neglect 
 from congress had made him disaffected to the Ameri 
 can cause, and that he had rendered a much more im 
 portant service than he could have done by joining 
 Schuyler, and remaining inactive in his camp. Con 
 gress embraced the opportunity to assign to him his 
 rank, and though he had not given to them any account 
 of his victory, or wrote to them at all upon the subject, 
 on October the fourth they resolved, "That the thanks 
 of congress be presented to General Stark of the New- 
 Hampshire militia, and the officers and troops under his 
 command, for their brave and successful attack upon, 
 and signal victory over the enemy in their lines at Ben- 
 nington: and that Brigadier Stark be appointed a briga 
 dier general in the army of the United States." And 
 ntver were thanks more deserved, or more wisely given 
 to a military officer." 1 * 
 
 In his official account of the affair, General Stark 
 thus writes: "It lasted two hours, the hottest I ever saw 
 in my life; it represented one continued clap of thunder: 
 however, the enemy were obliged to give way, and leave 
 their field pieces, and all their baggage behind them; 
 they were all environed within two breast-works with 
 artillery ; but our martial courage proved too strong for 
 them. I then gave orders to rally again, in order to se 
 cure the victory; but in a few minutes was informed that 
 there was a large reinforcement on their march, within 
 two miles. Colonel Warner s regiment, luckily coming 
 up at the moment, renewed the attack with fresh vigour. 
 I pushed forward as many of the men as I could to their 
 assistance; the battle continued obstinate on both sides 
 until sunset; the enemy was obliged to retreat; we 
 
 William s Vermont. 
 
JOHN STARK. 
 
 pursued (hern till dark, and had day lasted an hour 
 longer, should have taken the svhole body of them." 
 
 "On what small events does the popular humour and 
 military success depend ? The capture of one thousand 
 Germans by General Washington at Trenton, had served 
 to wake up, and save the whole continent. The exploit 
 of Stark at Bennington, operated with the same kind of 
 influence, and produced a similar effect. This victory 
 was the first event that had proved encouraging to the 
 Americans in the northern department, since the death of 
 General Montgomery. Misfortune had succeeded mis 
 fortune, and defeat had followed defeat from that peri 
 od till now. The present instance was the first, in 
 which victory had quitted the royal standard, or seemed 
 even to be wavering. She was now found with the 
 American arms, and the effect seemed in fact to be 
 greater than the cause. It raised the spirit of the coun 
 try to an uncommon degree of animation; and by show 
 ing the militia what they could perform, rendered them 
 willing and desirous to turn out and try what fortunes 
 would await their exertions. It had a still greater ef 
 fect on the royal army. The Btitish generals were sur 
 prised to hear that an enemy, whom they had contem 
 plated with no other feelings than those of contempt, 
 should all at once wake up, and discover much of the 
 spirit of heroism. To advance upon the mouth of can 
 non, to attack fortified lines, to carry strong entrench 
 ments, were exploits which they supposed belonged ex 
 clusively to the armies of kings. To see a body of 
 American militia, ill dressed, but little disciplined, with 
 out cannon, armed only with farmers guns without bay 
 onets, and who had been accustomed to fly at their ap 
 proach; that such men should force the entrenchments, 
 capture the cannon, kill and make prisoners of a large 
 body of the royal army, was a matter of indignation, 
 astonishment, and surprise."* 
 
 "General Stark volunteered his services under Gen. 
 Gates at Saratoga, and assisted in the council which 
 stipulated the surrender of General Burgoyne, nor did 
 
 ^William s Vermont, 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 
 he relinquish his valuable services till he could greet 
 his native country as an independent Empire. General 
 Stark was of a middle stature, not formed by nature to 
 exhibit an erect soldiery mien. His manners were 
 frank, and unassuming, but he manifested a peculiar 
 sort of eccentricity and negligence, which precluded all 
 display of personal dignity, and seemed to place him 
 among those of ordinary rank in life. His character as 
 a private citizen was unblemished, and he was ever 
 held in respect. For the last few years of his life, he 
 enjoyed a pecuniary bounty from the government. He 
 lived to the advanced age of ninety-three years eight 
 months and twenty-four days, and died May 8th, 
 1822."* 
 
 ARTHUlt ST. CLAIR, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GEN. ST. CLAIR was a soldier from his youth. At an 
 arly age, while the independent states were yet British 
 colonies, he entered the royal American army, and was 
 commissioned as an ensign. He was actively engaged, 
 during the French war, in the army of General Wolfe, 
 and was in the battle, carrying a pair of colours, in 
 which that celebrated commander was slain, on the 
 plains of Abraham. He was highly esteemed, by the 
 distinguished commanders under whom he served, as a 
 young officer of merit, capable of obtaining a high grade 
 ef military reputation. 
 
 "After the peace of 63, he sold out, and entered into 
 trade, for which the generosity of his nature utterly dis 
 qualified him; he, of course, soon became disgusted with 
 a profitless pursuit, and having married, after several 
 vicissitudes of fortune, he located himself in Ligonier 
 valley, west of the Alleghany mountain, and near the 
 ancient route from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. 
 
 In this situation the American revolution found him, 
 surrounded by a rising family, in the enjoyment of ease 
 and independence, with the fairest prospects of affluent 
 
 "Thatcher s Journal. 
 
ARTHTtJR St. CLAIR. 279 
 
 fortune, the foundation of which had been already 
 established by his intelligence, industry, and enterprise. 
 
 From this peaceful abode, these sweet domestic en 
 joyments, and the flattering prospects which accompani 
 ed them, he was drawn by the claims of a troubled 
 country. A man known to have been a military officer, 
 and distinguished for knowledge and integrity, could m-t, 
 in those times be concealed even by his favourite moun 
 tains, and therefore, without application or expectation 
 on his part, he received the commission of a colonel in 
 the month of December, 1775, together with a letter 
 from President Hancock, pressing him to repair immedi 
 ately to Philadelphia. He obeyed the summons, and 
 took leave not only of his wife and children, but in effect 
 of his fortune, to embark in the cause of liberty and the 
 united colonies. In six weeks he completed the levy of 
 a regiment of 750 men; six companies of which march-- 
 ed in season to join our troops before Quebec; he fol 
 lowed with the other four in May, and after the unlucky 
 affair at Three Rivers, by his counsel to Gen. Sullivan 
 at Sorel,he saved the army we had in Canada."* 
 
 The active and persevering habits of St. Clair, and 
 the military knowledge, as displayed by him during the 
 Canadian campaign, brought him into high repute, and 
 he was subsequently promoted to the rank of major gen 
 eral. On all occasions he supported an honourable dis 
 tinction, and shared largely in the confidence and friend 
 ship of the Commander in chief. 
 
 The misfortunes attending the early military opera 
 tions of the northern campaign of 1777, did not fail to 
 bring reproach upon the characters of those who con 
 ducted it. The loss of Ticonderoga and Fort Indepen 
 dence, and the subsequent retreat of General St. Clair, 
 cast a gloom over the minds of patriotic men, and in 
 their consequences gave rise to the malignant passions 
 of the human heart, which were put in motion to depre 
 ciate the worth, impair the influence, and destroy the 
 usefulness of Generals Schuyler and St. Clair. It was 
 proclaimed that they were traitors to their country, and 
 
 ^Wilkinson s Memoirs . 
 
280 A-RTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 
 acted in concert with the enemy; and the ignorant and 
 the credulous were led to believe that they had received 
 an immense treasure in silver balls, fired by Burgoyne 
 into St. Glair s camp, and by his order picked up and 
 transmitted to Schuyler, at Fort George!! Extravagant 
 as was this tale, it was implicitly believed. 
 
 At the time of the evacuation of Ticonderoga by St. 
 Clair, which so much exasperated the people, General 
 Schuyler was absent upon a different duty, and was to 
 tally ignorant of the fact, though the commanding officer 
 in that district. General St. (lair, in accordance with 
 the opinion of a council of war, ordered the movement 
 on his own responsibility, and thereby saved the state of 
 New York from British domination, and his gallant 
 army from capture. Stung with the injustice of a charge 
 against General Schuyler, for an act for which he alone 
 was responsible, he magnanimously wrote the following 
 letter to the Hon. John Jay, on the subject: 
 
 "Moses* Creek, July 25, 1775. 
 
 "Sin, General Schuyler was good enough to read to 
 me a part of a letter he received last night from you. 1 
 cannot recollect that any of my officers ever asked my 
 reasons for leaving Ticonderoga: but as I have found 
 the measure much decried, 1 have often expressed my 
 self in this manner: "That as to myself I was perfect 
 ly easy; I was conscious of the uprightness and propri 
 ety of my conduct, and despised the vague censure of 
 an uninformed populace;" but had no allusion to an or 
 der from General Schuyler for my justification, because 
 no such order existed. 
 
 "The calumny thrown on General Schuyler, on ac 
 count of that matter, has given me great uneasiness. I 
 assure you, Sir, there never was any thing more cruel 
 and unjust; for he knew nothing of the matter until it 
 was over, more than you did at Kingston. It was done 
 in consequence of a consultation with the other general 
 officers, without the possibility of General Schuyler s 
 concurrence; and had the opinion of that council been 
 contrary to what it was, it would nevertheless have 
 taken place, because I knew it to be impossible to de 
 fend the post with our numbers. 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 281 
 
 "In my letter to congress from Fort Edward, in which 
 I gave them an account of the retreat, is this para 
 graph: It was my original design to retreat to this 
 place, that I might be betwixt General Burgoyne and 
 the inhabitants, and that the militia might have some 
 thing in this quarter to collect to. It is now effected, 
 and the militia are coming in, so that I have the most 
 sanguine hopes that the progress of the enemy will be 
 checked, and I may have the satisfaction to experience, 
 that although I have lost a post, I have eventually saved a 
 state? 
 
 "Whether my conjecture is right, or not is uncertain; 
 but had our army been made prisoners, which it certain 
 ly would have been, the state of New York would have- 
 been much more exposed at present. 
 
 "I proposed to General Schuyler, on my arrival at 
 Fort Edward, to have sent a note to the printer, to as 
 sure the people he had no part in abandoning what they 
 considered their strong holds; he thought it was not so 
 proper at that time, but it is no more than what I owe to 
 truth and to him to declare, that he was totally unac 
 quainted with the matter; and I should be very glad 
 that this letter, or any part of it you may think proper 
 to communicate, may convince the unbelieving. Simple 
 unbelief is easily and soon convinced, but when malice 
 or envy occasions it, it is needless to attempt conviction. 
 "I am, Sir, 
 
 "Your very humble, 
 "and ob t. Serv t. 
 
 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 "Hon. John Jay." 
 
 Congress, yielding to personal prejudices and the pop 
 ular outcry, produced by the evacuation of that post, they 
 passed the following resolutions: 
 
 "Resolved, That an inquiry be made into the reasons 
 of the evacuations of Ticonderoga and Mount Indepen 
 dence, and into the conduct of the general officers who 
 were in the northern department at the time of the evac 
 uation. 
 
 M2 
 
282 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 
 "Resolved, That Major General St. Clair, who com 
 manded at Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, forth 
 with repair to head -quarters." 
 
 The conduct of congress towards this respectable, 
 able, and faithful servant of the republic, was consider 
 ed altogether unwarrantable, and, in the result, drew 
 great and deserved odium on its authors. 
 
 After holding St. Clair in cruel suspense for more than 
 a year, he was permitted to appear before a general 
 court martial, which passed the following sentence of 
 acquital : 
 
 "Quaker- Hill, Sepl. 29, 1778. 
 
 "The court having duly considered the charges against 
 Major General St. Clair, and the evidence, are unani 
 mously of opinion that he is NOT GUILTY of either of the 
 charges preferred against him, and do unanimously ac 
 quit him of all and every one of them, with the HIGHEST 
 HONOUR. 
 
 "B. LINCOLN, 
 Maj. Gen and President. 
 
 From this time, Gen. St. Clair continued in the ser 
 vice of his country until the close of the war. Soon af 
 ter the establishment of the national government, Gen. 
 St. Clair was appointed Governor of the North West 
 Territory. But he did not long enjoy the calm and qui 
 et of civil life. The repeated successes of the Indians, 
 on the western frontier, had emboldened them to repeat 
 and extend their incursions to an alarming degree. 
 
 "The frontiers were in a most deplorable situation. 
 For their relief, congress sanctioned the raising of an 
 additional regiment; and the President was authorised 
 to cause a body of two thousand men, under the denom 
 ination of levies, to be raised for six months, and to ap 
 point a major general, and a brigadier general, to con 
 tinue in command as long as he should think their 
 services necessary. St. Clair, who was then governor 
 of the territory, northwest of the Ohio, and, as such, 
 officially the negociator with the adjacent Indians, was 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 283 
 
 appointed commander in chief of this new military 
 establishment, Though every exertion was made to re 
 cruit and forward the troops, they were not assembled 
 in the neighbourhood of Fort Washington, until the 
 month of September; nor was the establishment then 
 completed. 
 
 The object of the expedition was, to destroy the In 
 dian villages on the Miami; to expel the savages from 
 thrit country; and to connect it with the Ohio by a 
 chain of posts. The regulars, proceeding northwardly, 
 from the Ohio, established, at proper intervals, two forts, 
 one named Hamilton, and the other Jefferson, as places 
 of deposit and security. These were garrisoned with 
 a small force; and the main body of the army, about 
 two thousand men, advanced towards the Indian settle 
 ments. As they approached the enemy, about sixty 
 militiamen deserted, in a body. To prevent the mis 
 chiefs, likely to result from so bad an example, Major 
 Hamtrack was detached, with the first regiment, to pur 
 sue the deserters. The army was reduced by this de 
 tachment, to about fourteen hundred effective men; but 
 nevertheless, proceeded on their march, and encamped 
 on elevated ground, about 15 miles south of the Miami. 
 The Indians commenced an attack on the militia in 
 front. These instantly fled in disorder, and rushing into 
 the camp, occasioned confusion among the regulars. 
 The officers of the latter exerted themselves to restore 
 order; but with very inconsiderable success. The In 
 dians improved the advantage they had gained. They 
 were seldom seen, but in the act of springing from one 
 cover to another; for they fired from the ground, or un 
 der shelter from the woods. Advancing in this manner 
 close to the lines of their adversaries, and almost to the 
 mouth of their field-pieces they continued the contest, 
 with great firmness and intrepidity. 
 
 General St. Clair, though suffering under a painful 
 disease, and unable to mount or dismount a horse, with 
 out assistance, delivered his orders with judgment, and 
 perfect self-possession. The troops had not been in ser 
 vice long enough to acquire discipline ; and the want of 
 it increased the difficulty of reducing them to order. 
 
, 
 
 284 ARTHUR ST. CLA1R. 
 
 after they had been broken. The officers, in their zeal 
 to change the face of affairs, exposed themselves to 
 imminent danger, and fell in great numbers. Attempts 
 were made to retrieve the fortune of the day, by the use 
 of the bayonet. Col. Darke made a successful charge 
 on a part of the enemy, and drove them four hundred 
 yards; but they soon rallied. In the mean time. Gen. 
 Butler was mortally wounded. Almost all the artiller 
 ists were killed, and their guns seized by the enemy. 
 Col. Darke again charged with the bayonet, and the ar 
 tillery was recovered. While the Indians were driven 
 back in one point, they kept up their fire from every 
 other, with fatal effect. Several corps charged the In 
 dians with partial success; but no general impression 
 was made upon them. 
 
 To save the remnant of his army, was all that could 
 be done by St. Clair. After some hours of sharp fight 
 ing, a retreat took place. The Indians pursued, for 
 about -four miles, when their avidity for plunder called 
 them back to the camp to share the spoil. The van 
 quished troops fled about thirty miles, to Fort Jefferson. 
 There they met Major Hamtrack, with the first regi 
 ment; but this additional force would not warrant an 
 attempt to turn about and face the victors. The wound 
 ed were left there, and the army retreated to Fort Wash 
 ington. 
 
 The loss in this defeat was great; and particularly 
 so among the officers. Thirty-eight of these were 
 killed on the field; and five hundred and ninety-three 
 non-commissioned officers and privates were slain or 
 missing. Twenty-one commissioned officers, and up 
 wards of one hundred privates were wounded. Among 
 the dead was the gallant General Butler, who had re 
 peatedly distinguished himself in the war of the revolu 
 tion. Several other brave officers, who had successfully 
 fought for the independence of their country, fell on 
 this fatal day. Among the wounded, were Lieutenant 
 Colonels Gibson and Darke, Major Butler, and Adjutant 
 Sargent, .officers of distinguished merit. Neither the 
 number of the Indians engaged, nor their loss could be 
 exactly ascertained. The former was supposed to be 
 
JOHN SULLIVAN. 285 
 
 from one thousand to fifteen hundred, and the latter far 
 short of what was sustained by St. Clair s army."* 
 
 Shorily after this unfortunate expedition, General St. 
 Clair resigned his commission in the army, and retired 
 into private life, and thus remained until the close of his 
 life, August 31st, 1818. 
 
 JOHN SULLIVAN, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 GENERAL SULLIVAN was a native of New-Hampshire, 
 where he resided before the revolution, and attained to 
 a high degree of eminence in the profession of the law. 
 He was a member of the first congress in 1774, but on 
 the commencement of hostilities, preferring a military 
 commission, he relinquished the fairest prospect of for 
 tune and fame, and appeared among the most ardent 
 patriots, and intrepid warriors. 
 
 In 1775 he was appointed a brigadier general, and 
 immediately joined the army at Cambridge, and soon 
 after obtained the command on Winter Hill. The next 
 year he was ordered to Canada, and on the death of 
 General Thomas, the command of the army devolved on 
 him. The situation of the army in that quarter was in 
 expressibly distressing; destitute of clothing, dispirited 
 by defeat, and constant fatigue, and a large proportion 
 of the troops sick with the smallpox. By his great ex 
 ertions and judicious management he meliorated the 
 condition of the army, and obtained general applause. 
 On his retiring from that command, July, 12th, 1776, the 
 field officers thus addressed him. "It is to you, sir, the 
 public are indebted for the preservation of their proper 
 ty in Canada. It is to you we owe our safety thus far. 
 Your humanity will call forth the silent tear, and the 
 grateful ejaculation of the sick. Your universal impar 
 tiality will force the applause of the wearied soldier." 
 
 In August, 1776, he was promoted to the rank of ma 
 jor general, and soon after was, with Major General 
 Lord Stirling, captured by the British in the battle on 
 
 *Ramsay s United States. 
 
286 .K>HN SULLIVAN. 
 
 Long-Island. General Sullivan being paroled, was sent 
 by General Howe with a message to congress, after 
 which he returned to New-York In September he was 
 exchanged for Major General Prescott. We next find 
 him in command of the right division of our troops, in 
 the famous battle at Trenton, and he acquitted himself 
 honourably on that ever memorable day. 
 
 In August, 1777, without the authority of congress, or 
 the Commander in chief, he planned and executed an 
 expedition against the enemy on Staten Island. Though 
 the enterprise was conducted with prudence and success 
 in part, it was said by some to be less brilliant than 
 might have been expected, under his favourable circum 
 stances; and as that act was deemed a bold assumption 
 of responsibility, and reports to his prejudice being in 
 circulation, a court of inquiry was ordered to investigate 
 his conduct. The result was an honourable acquittal, 
 and congress resolved that the result so honourable to 
 General Sullivan is highly pleasing to congress, and that 
 the opinion of the court be published, in justification of 
 that injured officer. 
 
 In the battles of Brandy wine and Germantown,in the 
 autumn of 1777, General Sullivan commanded a division, 
 and in the latter conflict his two aids were killed, and 
 his own conduct was so conspicuously brave, that Gen. 
 Washington, in his letter to congress, concludes with 
 encomiums on the gallantry of General Sullivan, and 
 the whole right wing of the army, who acted immedi 
 ately under the eye of his Excellency. 
 
 In August, 1778, Gen. Sullivan who was sole comman 
 der of an expedition to the island of Newport, in co-ope 
 ration with the French fleet under the Count D Estaing. 
 The Marquis de La Fayette and General Greene volun 
 teered their services on the occasion. The object of 
 the expedition was defeated, in consequence of the 
 French fleet being driven off by a violent storm. By this 
 unfortunate event the enemy were encouraged to engage 
 our army in battle, in which they suffered a repulse, and 
 General Sullivan finally effected a safe retreat to the 
 main. This retreat, so ably executed, without confu 
 sion, or the loss of baggage, or stores, increased the 
 
JOHN SULLIVAN. 287 
 
 military reputation of General Sullivan, and redounds 
 to his honour as a skilful commander. 
 
 The bloody tragedy acted at Wyoming in 1778, had 
 determined the Commander in chief, in 1779, to employ 
 a large detachment from the continental army to pene 
 trate into the heart of the Indian country, to chastise the 
 hostile tribes and their white associates and adherents, 
 for their cruel aggressions on the defenceless inhabi 
 tants. The command of this expedition was committed 
 to Major General Sullivan, with express orders to des 
 troy their settlements, to ruin their crops, and make 
 such thorough devastations, as to render the country en 
 tirely uninhabitable for the present, and thus to compel 
 the savages to remove to a greater distance from our 
 frontiers. 
 
 General Sullivan had under his command several 
 brigadiers, and a well chosen army, to which were at 
 tached a number of friendly Indian warriors. With 
 this force he penetrated about ninety miles through a 
 horrid swampy wilderness and barren mountainous de 
 serts, to Wyoming, on the Susquehannah river, thence 
 by water to Tioga, and posessed himself of numerous 
 towns and villages of the savages. 
 
 During this hazardous expedition, General Sullivan 
 and his army encountered the most complicated obsta 
 cles, requiring the greatest fortitude and perseverance to 
 surmount. He explored an extensive tract of country, 
 and strictly executed the severe, but necessary orders 
 he had received. A considerable number of Indians 
 were slain, some were captured, their habitations were 
 burnt, and their plantations of corn and vegetables laid 
 waste in the most effectual manner. "Eighteen villages, 
 a number of detached buildings, one hundred and sixty 
 thousand bushels of corn, and those fruits and vegeta 
 bles which conduce to the comfort and subsistence of 
 man, were utterly destroyed. Five weeks were unre 
 mittingly employed in this work of devastation." 
 
 On his return from the expedition, he and his army 
 received the approbation of congress. It is remarked 
 on this expedition, by the translator of M. Chastelleux s 
 travels, an Englishman then resident in the United 
 
J*OHN WARNER. 
 
 States, that the instructions given by General Sullivan 
 to his officers, the order of march he prescribed to his 
 troops, and the discipline he had the ability to maintain, 
 would have done honour to the most experienced ancient 
 or modern generals. 
 
 At the close of the campaign of 1779, General Sulli 
 van, in consequence of impaired health, resigned his 
 commission in the army. Congress, in accepting his 
 resignation, passed a resolve, thanking him for his past 
 services. His military talents and bold spirit of enter 
 prise were universally acknowledged. He was fond of 
 display, and his personal appearance and dignified de 
 portment commanded respect. After his resignation he 
 resumed his professional pursuits at the bar, and was 
 much distinguished as a statesman, politician, and pat 
 riot. He acquired very considerable proficiency in gen 
 eral literature, and an extensive knowledge of men and 
 the world. He received from Harvard university a 
 degree of Master of Arts, and from the university of 
 Dartmouth a degree of Doctor of Laws. He was one 
 of the convention who formed the state constitution for 
 New-Hampshire, was chosen into the first council, and 
 was afterward elected chief magistrate in that state, 
 and held the office for three years. In September, 1789, 
 he was appointed judge of the district court for the dis 
 trict of New-Hampshire, and continued in the office till 
 his death, in 1795."* 
 
 SETH WARNER, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 "AMONG the persons who have performed important 
 services to the state of Vermont, Colonel Seth Warner 
 deserves to be remembered with respect. He WHS born 
 at Woodbury, in the colony of Connecticut, about the 
 year 1744, of honest and respectable parents. Without 
 any other advantages for an education than what were 
 to be found in the common schools of the town, he was 
 early distinguished by the solidity and extent of his un.- 
 
 *Thatcher s Journal 
 
SETH WARNER. 289 
 
 ilerstanding. About the year 1763, his parents purchas 
 ed a tract of land in Bennington, and soon after removed 
 to that town with their family. In the uncultivated 
 state of the country, in the fish, with which the rivers 
 and ponds were furnished, and in the game, with which 
 the woods abounded, young Warner found a variety of 
 objects suited to his favourite inclinations and pursuits; 
 and he soon became distinguished as a fortunate and 
 indefatigable hunter. 
 
 His father, captain Benjaman Warner, had a strong 
 inclination to medicinal inquiries and pursuits; and 
 agreeably to the state of things in new settlements, had 
 to look for many of his medicines in the natural virtues 
 of the plants and roots, that were indigenous to the 
 country. His son Seth frequently attended him in these 
 botanical excursions, contracted something of his fa 
 ther s taste for the business, and acquired more informa 
 tion of the nature and properties of the indigenous plants 
 and vegetables, than any other man in the country. By 
 this kind of knowledge he became useful to the families 
 in the new settiements,and administered relief in many 
 cases, where no other medical assistance could at that 
 time be procured. By such visits and practice, he 
 became known to most of the families on the west side 
 of the Green Mountains; and was generally esteemed 
 by them a man highly useful both OH account of his in 
 formation and humanity. 
 
 About the year 1763, a scene began to open, which 
 gave a new turn to his active and enterprising spirit. 
 The lands on which the settlements were made, had 
 been granted by the governors of New-Hampshire. 
 The government of New-York claimed jurisdiction to 
 the eastward as far as Connecticut river; denied the au 
 thority of the governor of New-Hampshire to make any 
 grants to the west of Connecticut river; and announced 
 to the inhabitants that they were within the territory of 
 New-York, and had no legal titles to the lands on which 
 they had settled. The controversy became very serious 
 between the two governments; and after some years 
 spent in altercation, New-York procured a decision of 
 George III. in their favour. This order was dated July 
 
 N2 
 
290 SETH WARNER. 
 
 20, 1764, and declared, "the western batiks of the rivei 
 Connecticut, from where it enters the province of Mas 
 sachusetts bay, as far north as the 45th degree of north 
 ern latitude, to be the boundary line between the said 
 two provinces of New Hampshire and New-York." No 
 sooner was this decree procured, than the governor of 
 New York proceeded to make new grants of the lands, 
 which the settlers had before fairly bought of the crown, 
 and which had been chartered to them in the king s 
 name and authority by the royal governor of New 
 Hampshire. All became a scene of disorder and dan 
 ger. The new patentees under New York brought ac 
 tions of ejectment, against the settlers. The decisions 
 of the courts at Albany were always in favour of the 
 New York patentees; and nothing remained for the in 
 habitants but to buy their lands over again, or to give up 
 the labours and earnings of their whole lives to the new 
 claimants under titles from New York. 
 
 In this scene of oppression and distress, the settlers 
 discovered the firm and vigorous spirit of manhood. All 
 that was left to them, was either to yield up their whole 
 property to a set of unfeeling land-jobbers, or to defend 
 themselves and property by force. They wisely and 
 virtuously chose the latter; and by a kind of common 
 consent, Ethan Allen and Seth Warner became their 
 leaders. No man s abilities and talents could have 
 been better suited to this business than Warner s. W hen 
 the authority of New York proceeded with an a.rmed 
 force to attempt to execute their laws, Warner met them 
 with a body of Green Mountain Boys, properly armed, 
 full of resolution, and so formidable in numbers and 
 courage, that the governor of New York was obliged to 
 give up this method of proceeding. When the sheriff 
 came to extend his executions, and eject the settlers 
 from their farms, Warner would not suffer him to pro 
 ceed. Spies were employed to procure intelligence, and 
 promote division among the people: when any of them 
 were, taken, Warner caused them to be tried by some of 
 the most discreet of the people; and if declared guilty, 
 to he tied to a tree and whipped. An officer came to 
 take Warner by force; he considered it as an affair of 
 
3ETH WARNEK. 29 1 
 
 B(l th( 
 
 open hostility ; engaged, wounded, and disarmed the offi 
 cer; but, with the honour and spirit of a soldier, spared 
 the life of the enemy he had subdued. These services 
 appeared in a very different light to the settlers, #nd to 
 the government of New York; tne first considered him 
 as an eminent patriot and hero; to the other he appear 
 ed as the first of villains and rebels. Toiyut an end to 
 all further exertions, and to bring him to an exemplary 
 punishment, the government of New York, on March 
 9th, 1774, passed an act of outlawry against him; and 
 a proclamation was issued by W. Try on, governor of 
 New York, offering a reward of fifty pounds to any per 
 son who should apprehend him. These proceedings of 
 New York were beheld by him with contempt; and they 
 had no other effect upon the settlers, than to unite them 
 more firmly in their opposition to that government, and 
 in their attachment, to their own patriotic leader thus 
 wantonly proscribed. 
 
 In services of so dangerous and important a nature, 
 Warner was engaged from the year 1765 to 1775. That 
 year a scene of the highest magnitude and consequence 
 opened upon the world. On the 19th of April, the 
 American war was begun by the British troops at Lex 
 ington. Happily for the country, it was commenced 
 with such circumstances of insolence and cruelty, as 
 left no room for the people of America to doubt what 
 was the course which they ought to pursue. The time 
 was come, in which total subjection, or the horrors of 
 war, must take place. All America preferred the lat 
 ter; and the people of the New-Hampshire Grants im 
 mediately undertook to secure the British forts at Ti- 
 conderoga and Crown Point. Allen and Warner im 
 mediately engaged in the business. Allen took the 
 command, and Warner raised a body of excellent troops 
 in the vicinity of Bennington, and both marched against 
 Ticonderoga. They surprised and took that fortress on 
 the morning of the tenth of May; and Warner was 
 sent the same day with a detachment of the troops to 
 secure Crown Point. He effected the business, and se 
 cured the garrison, with all the warlike stores, for the 
 use of the continent. 
 
292 SETH WAUNEK. 
 
 The same year Warner received a commission from 
 congress to raise a regiment, to assist in the reduction of 
 Canada. He engaged in the business with his usual 
 spirit df activity; raised his regiment chiefly among his 
 old acquaintances and friends, the Green Mountain Boys, 
 and joined tlie army under the command of General 
 Montgomery The Honourable Samuel Safford of Ben- 
 nington, was his lieutenant-colonel; Their regiment 
 conducted with great spirit, and acquired high applause, 
 in the action at "Longueil, in which the troops designed 
 .for the relief of St. Johns were totally defeated and dis 
 persed, chiefly by the troops under the command of Col. 
 Warner. The campaign ended about the 20th of Nov. 
 in the course of which Ticonderoga, Crown Point, 
 Chamblee, St. Johns, Montreal, and a fleet of eleven sail 
 f vessels had been captured by the American arms. 
 No man in this campaign had acted with more spirit and 
 enterprise than Colonel Warner. Tiie weather was 
 now become severe, and Warner s men were too miser 
 ably clothed to bear a winter s campaign in the severe 
 climate of Canada. They were accordingly now dis 
 charged by Montgomery with particular marks cf his 
 respect, and the most affectionate thanks for their meri 
 torious services. 
 
 Warner returned with his men to the New-Hampshire 
 Grants, but his mind was more than ever engaged in 
 the cause of his country. Montgomery with a part of 
 his army, pressed on to Quebec, and on December 31st 
 was slain in an attempt to carry the city by storm. 
 This event gave an alarm to all the northern part of the 
 colonies; and it became necessary to raise a reinforce 
 ment to inarch to Quebec in the midst of winter. The 
 difficulty of the business suited the genius and ardour of 
 Warner s mind. He was at \\ oodbury, in Connecticut, 
 when he heard the news of Montgomery s defeat and 
 death; he instantly repaired to Bennington, raised a bo 
 dy of men, and marched in the midst of winter to join 
 the American troops at Quebec, The campaign during 
 the winter proved extremely distressing to the Ameri 
 cans : in want of comfortable clothing, barracks, and 
 provisions, most of them were taken by the smallpox, 
 
SETH WARNER. 293 
 
 and several died. At the opening of the spring, in May, 
 1776, a large body of British troops arrived at Quebec 
 to relieve the garrison. The American troops were 
 forced to abandon the blockade, with circumstances of 
 great distress and confusion. Warner chose the most 
 difficult part of the business, remaining always with the 
 rear, picking up the lame and diseased, assisting and en 
 couraging those who were the most unable to take care 
 of themselves, and generally kept but a few miles in 
 advance of the British, who were rapidly pursuing the 
 retreating Americans from post to post. By steadily 
 pursuing this conduct, he brought off most of the inva 
 lids; and with this corps of the infirm and diseased, he 
 arrived at Ticonderoga, a few days after the body of 
 the rirmy had taken possession of that post. 
 
 H ^hly approving his extraordinary exertions, the 
 American congress, on July 5th, 1776. the day after they 
 had declared independence, resolved to raise a regiment 
 out of the troops which had served with reputation in 
 Canada. Warner was appointed colonel, Safford lieu 
 tenant colonel of this regiment; and most of the other 
 officers were persons who had been distinguished by 
 their opposition to the claims and proceedings of New 
 York. By this appointment he was again placed in a 
 situation perfectly agreeable to his inclination and gen 
 ius; and in conformity to his orders he repaired to Ti 
 conderoga, where he remained till the close of the cam 
 paign. 
 
 On January 16, 1777, the convention of the New- 
 Hampshire Grants declared the whole district to be a 
 sovereign and independent state, to be known and dis 
 tinguished ever by the name of Vermont. The com 
 mittee of safety in New York were then sitting, and on 
 January 20th, they announced the transaction to con 
 gress, complaining in high terms of the conduct of Ver 
 mont, censuring it as a dangerous revolt and opposition 
 to a lawful authority; and at the same time* remonstra 
 ting against the proceedings of congress in appointing 
 Warner to the command of a regiment independent of 
 the legislature, and within the bounds of that state; 
 "especially, said they, as this colonel Warner hath been 
 
294 SETH WARNER. 
 
 constantly and invariably opposed to the legislature of 
 this state, and hath been, on that account, proclaimed 
 an outlaw by the late government thereof. It is abso 
 lutely necessary to recall the commissions given to Col. 
 Warner and the officers under him, as nothing else will 
 do us justice." No measures were taken by congress at 
 that time, either to interfere in the civil contest between 
 the two states, or to remove the Colonel from his com 
 mand. Anxious to effect this purpose, the convention 
 of New York wrote further on the subject, on March 
 1st, and among other things declare, "that there was not 
 the least probability that Colonel Warner could raise 
 such a number of men as would be an object of public 
 concern." Congress still declined to dismiss so valuable 
 an officer from their service. On June 23d, congress 
 was obliged to take up the controversy between New 
 York and Vermont; but instead of proceeding to dis 
 band the Colonel s regiment, on June 30th, they resolv 
 ed, "that the reason which induced congress to form 
 that corps, was, that many officers of different states 
 who had served in Canada, and alleged that they could 
 soon raise a regiment, but were then unprovided for, 
 might be reinstated in the service of the United States." 
 Nothing can give us a more just idea of the sentiments 
 which the American congress entertained of the patri 
 otic and military virtues of the Colonel, than their re 
 fusing to give him up to the repeated solicitations and 
 demands of so respectable and powerful a state, as that 
 of New-York. 
 
 The American army stationed at Ticonderoga were 
 forced to abandon that fortress, on July 6, 1777, in a 
 very precipitate and irregular manner. The Colonel 
 with his regiment retreated along the western part of 
 Vermont, through the towns of Orwell, Siidbury, and 
 Hnbardton. At the last of these towns, the advanced 
 corps of the British army overtook the rear of the Amer 
 ican troops, on the morning of the 7th of July. The 
 American army, all but part of three regiments, were 
 gone forward; these were part of Hale s, Francis s, and 
 Warner s regiments. The enemy attacked them with 
 superior numbers, and the highest prospect of success. 
 
SETH WARNEIt 295 
 
 Francis and Warner opposed them with great spirit and 
 vigour; and no of^cers or troops could have discovered 
 more courage and firmness than they displayed through 
 the whole action. Large reinforcements of the enemy 
 arriving, it became impossible to make any effectual op 
 position. Francis fell in a most honourable dischage 
 of his duty. Hale surrendered with his regiment. Sur 
 rounded on every side by the enemy, but calm and un 
 daunted, colonel Warner fought his way through all 
 opposition, brought off the troops that refused to capitu 
 late with Hale, checked the enemy in their pursuit, and 
 contrary to all expectations, arrived safe with his troops 
 at Manchester. To the northward of that town the 
 whole country was deserted. The Colonel determined 
 to make a stand at that place ; encouraged by his exam 
 ple and firmness, a body of the militia soon joined him; 
 and he was once more in a situation to protect the in 
 habitants, harass the enemy, and break up the advanced 
 parties. 
 
 On the 16th of August, the vicinity of Bennington 
 became the seat of a memorable battle. Colonel Baum 
 had been despatched by General Burgoyne to attack 
 the American troops and destroy the magazines at Ben 
 nington. General Stark, who commanded at that place, 
 had intelligence of the approach of the enemy: and 
 sent orders on the morning of the 16th to Col. Warner 
 at Manchester, to march immediately to his assistance. 
 In the mean time Stark, with the troops .which were as 
 sembled at Bennington, had attacked the enemy under 
 Colonel Baum, and after a severe action had captured 
 the whole body. Just as the action was finished, intel 
 ligence was received that a large reinforcement of the 
 enemy had arrived. Fatigued and exhausted by so 
 long and severe an action, Stark was doubtful whether 
 it was possible for his troops to enter immediately upon 
 another battle with a fresh body of the enemy. At that 
 critical moment Warner arrived with his troops from 
 Manchester. Mortified that he had not been in the ac 
 tion, and determined to have some part in the glory of 
 the day, he urged Stark immediately to commence an 
 other action. Stark consented, and the Col. instantly 
 
296 &ETH WARNER. 
 
 led on his men to battle. The Americans rallied from 
 every part of the field, and the second action became as 
 tierce and decisive as the first. The enemy gave way 
 in every direction; great numbers of them were slain, 
 and the rest saved themselves altogether by the dark 
 ness of the night. Stark ascribed the Ian victory very 
 much to colonels Warner and Herrick; and spoke in 
 the highest terms of their superior information and ac 
 tivity, as that to which he principally owed his success. 
 The success at Bennington gave a decisive turn to the 
 affairs of that campaign. Stark, Warner, and the other 
 officers, with their troops, joined the army under Gen. 
 Gates. Victory every where followed the attempts of 
 the northern army; and the campaign terminated in the 
 surrender of Burgoyne and his whole army, at Saratoga, 
 on October 17, 1777. 
 
 The contest in the northern department being in a 
 great measure decided by the capture of Bftrgoyne, 
 Warner had no further opportunity to discover his prow 
 ess in defence of his beloved state; but served occasion 
 ally at different places on Hudson river, as the circum 
 stances of the war required, and always with reputa 
 tion. Despairing of success in the northern parts, the 
 enemy carried the war into the southern states; and 
 neither New York nor Vermont any longer remained the 
 places of distinguished enterprise. But such had been 
 the" fatigues and exertions of the Colonel, that when he 
 returned to his family in Bennington, his constitution, 
 naturally firm and vigorous, appeared tn be worn down; 
 and nature declined under a complication of disorders, 
 occasioned by the exessive labours and sufferings he 
 had passed through. 
 
 Most of those men who have been engaged with un 
 common ardour in the cause of their country, have been 
 so swallowed up with the patriotic passion, as to neglect 
 that attention to their private interests which other men 
 pursue as the ruling passion. Thus it proved with Col. 
 Warner: intent at first upon saving a state, and after 
 ward upon saving a country, his mind was so entirely 
 engaged in those pursuits, that he, had not made that 
 provision for his family, which to most of the politicians 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 297 
 
 land-jobbers was the ultimate end of all their meas 
 ures and exertions. With a view the better to support 
 his family he removed to Woodbury ; where in the year 
 1785, he ended an active and useful life, in high estirna-- 
 rion among his friends and countrymen. 
 
 His family had derived little or no estate from his 
 services. After his death they applied to the general 
 assembly of Vermont for a grant of land. The assem 
 bly, with a spirit of justice and generosity,, remembered 
 the services of Col. Warner, took up the petition, and 
 granted a valuable tract of land to his widow and fam 
 ily: a measure highly honourable to the memory of Col. 
 Warner, and of that assembly,"* 
 
 JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 ;i JoSEPH WARREN was born in Roxbury, near Boston, 
 in the year 1741. His father was a respectable far 
 mer in that place, who had held several municipal offi 
 ces, to the acceptance of his fellow-citizens. Joseph, 
 with several of his brothers, was instructed in the ele 
 mentary branches of knowledge, at the public gram- 
 mer-school of the town, which was distinguished for its 
 successive instructers of superior attainments. In 1755, 
 he entered college, where he sustained the character 
 of a youth of talents, fine manners, and of a generous 
 independent deportment, united to great personal cour 
 age and perseverance. An anecdote will illustrate his 
 fearlessness and determination at that age, when char 
 acter can hardly be said to be formed. Several stu 
 dents of Warren s class shut themselves in a room to 
 arrange some college affairs, in a way which they knew 
 was contrary to his wishes, and barred the door so ef 
 fectually that he could not without great violence force 
 it: but he did not give over the attempt of getting among 
 them; for perceiving that the window of the room in 
 which they were assembled was open, and near a spout 
 which extended from the roof of the building to the 
 
 ^William s Vermont. 
 02 
 
298 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 ground, he went to the top of the house, slid down the 
 eaves, seized the spout, and when he had descended as 
 far as the window, threw himself into the chamber 
 among them. At that instant the spout, which was de 
 cayed and weak, gave way and fell to the ground. He 
 looked at it without emotion, said that it had served his 
 purpose, and began to take his part in the business. A 
 spectator of this feat and narrow escape related this 
 fact to me in the college-yard, nearly half a century af 
 terward ; and the impression it made on his mind was so 
 strong, that he seemed to frcl the same emotion as 
 though it happened but an hour before. 
 
 On leaving college in 17.09, Warren turned his atten 
 tion to the study of medicine, under the direction of 
 Doctor Lloyd, an eminent physician of that day, whose 
 valuable life has been protracted almost to the present 
 time. Warren was distinguished very soon after he 
 commenced practice; for when in 1764, the smallpox 
 spread in Boston, he was among the most successful in 
 his method of treating that disease, which was then 
 considered the most dreadful scourge of the human race; 
 and the violence of which had baffled the efforts of the 
 learned faculty of medicine from the time of its first 
 appearance. From this moment he stood high among 
 his brethren, and was the favourite of the people; and 
 what he gained in their good will he never lost. Uis 
 personal appearance, his address, his courtesy, and his 
 humanity, won the way to the hearts of all; and his 
 knowledge and superiority of talents secured the con 
 quest. A bright and lasting fame in his profession, with 
 the attendant consequences, wealth and influence, were 
 within his reach, and near at hand: but the calls of a 
 distracted country were paramount to every considera 
 tion of his own interests, and he entered the vortex of 
 politics, never to return to the peaceful course of profes 
 sional labour. 
 
 The change in public opinion had been gradually 
 preparing the minds of most men for a revolution. This 
 was not openly avowed: amelioration of treatment for 
 the present, and assurances of kindness in future, were 
 all that the colonies asked from Great Britain but these 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 299 
 
 they did not receive. The mother country mistook the 
 spirit of her children, and used threats when kindness 
 would have been the best policy. When Britain de 
 clared her right to direct, govern, and tax us in any 
 form, and at all times, the colonies reasoned, remon 
 strated, and entreated for a while; and when these 
 means did not answer, they defied and resisted. The 
 political writers of the province had been active and 
 busy, but they were generally screened by fictitious 
 names, or sent their productions anonymously into the 
 world : but the time had arrived, when speakers of nerve 
 and boldness were wanted to raise their voices against 
 oppression in every shape. Warren possessed first-rate 
 qualities for an orator, and had early declared in the 
 strongest terms his political sentiments, which were 
 somewhat in advance of public opinion; for he held as 
 tyranny all taxation, which could be imposed by the 
 British parliament upon the colonies. In times of dan 
 ger, the people are sagacious, and cling to those who 
 best can serve them; and every eye was on him in eve 
 ry emergency; for he had not only the firmness and de 
 cision they wished for in a leader, but was prudent and 
 wary in all his plans. His first object was to enlighten 
 the people; and then he felt sure of engaging their feel 
 ings in the general cause. He knew when once they 
 began, it would be impossible to tread back indepen 
 dence only would satisfy the country. With an inten 
 tion of directing public sentiment, without appearing to 
 be too active, he met frequently with a considerable 
 number of substantial mechanics, and others in the mid 
 dling classes of society, who were busy in politics. This 
 crisis required such a man as they found him to be; one 
 who could discern the signs or the times, and mould the 
 ductile materials to his will, and at the same time seem 
 only to follow in the path of others. His letter to Bar 
 nard, which attracted the notice of government, had 
 been written several years before, in 1768; but in some 
 form or other he was constantly enlightening the people 
 by his pen: but it is now difficult, and of no great impor 
 tance to trace him in the papers of that period. The 
 public was not then always right in designating the 
 
300 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 authors of political essays. In the different situations 
 in which he was called to act, he assumed as many char 
 acters as fable has ever given to the tutelar god of hi? 
 profession* and like him, in every one of them he re- 
 tciined the wisdom to guide, and the power to charm. 
 At one time he might be found restraining the impetuos 
 ity, and bridling the fury of those hot-headed politicians, 
 who felt more than they reasoned, and dared to do more 
 than became men. Such was his versatility, that he 
 turned from these lectures of caution and prudence, to 
 asserting and defending the most bold and undisguised 
 principles of liberty, and defying in their very teeth 
 the agents of the crown. Twice he was elected to de 
 liver the oration on the 5th of March, in commemora 
 tion of the massacre; and his orations are among the 
 most distinguished, produced by that splendid list of 
 speakers who addressed their fellow-citizens on this sub 
 ject, so interesting to them all. In these productions, 
 generally, the immediate causes of this event were over 
 looked, and the remote ones alone were discussed. 
 Here they were on safe ground: for tyranny, in its in 
 cipient stages, has no excuse from opposition; but in its 
 inarch, it generally finds some plausible arguments for 
 its proceedings, drawn from the very resistance it natu 
 rally produces. These occasons gave the orators a fine 
 field for remark, and a fair opportunity for effect. The 
 great orators of antiquity, in their speeches, attempted 
 only to rouse the people to retain what they possessed. 
 Invective, entreaty, and pride had their effect in assist 
 ing those mighty masters to influence the people. They 
 were ashamed to lose what their fathers left them, won 
 by their blood, and so long preserved by their wisdom, 
 their virtues, and their courage. Our statesmen had a 
 harder task to perform; for they were compelled to call 
 on the people to gain what they had never enjoyed 
 an independent rank and standing among the nations of 
 the world. 
 
 His next oration was delivered March 6th, 1775. It 
 was at his own solicitation that he was appointed to 
 this duty a second time. The fact is illustrative of his 
 character, and worthy of remembrance. Some British 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 301 
 
 officers of the army then in Boston, had publicly de 
 clared that it should be at the price of the life of any 
 man to speak of the event of March 5th, 1770, on that 
 anniversary. Warren s soul took fire at such a threat, 
 so openly made, and he wished for the honour of braving 
 it. This was readily granted ; for at such a time a man 
 would probably find but few rivals. Many who would 
 spurn the thought of personal fear, might be apprehen 
 sive that they would be so far disconcerted as to forget 
 their discourse. It is easier to fight bravely, than to 
 think clearly or correctly in danger. Passion sometimes 
 nerves the nrm to fight, but disturbs the regular current 
 of thought. The day came, and the weather was re 
 markably fine. The Old South Meeting-house was 
 crowded at an early hour. The British officers occupi 
 ed the aisles, the flight of steps to the pulpit, and sever 
 al of them were within it. It was not precisely known 
 whether this was accident or design. The orator, with 
 the assistance of his friends, made his entrance at the 
 pulpit window by a ladder. The officers, seeing his 
 coolness and intrepidity, made way for him to advance 
 and address the audience. An awful stillness preceded 
 his exordium. Each man felt the palpitations of his own 
 heart, and saw the pale but determined face of his neigh 
 bour. The speaker began his oration in a firm tone of 
 voice, and proceeded with great energy and pathos. 
 Warren and his friends were prepared to chastise con 
 tumely, prevent disgrace, and avenge an attempt at as 
 sassination. 
 
 The scene was sublime; a patriot, in whom the flush 
 of youth, and the grace and dignity of manhood were 
 combined, stood armed in the sanctuary of God to ani 
 mate and encourage the sons of liberty, and to hurl de 
 fiance at their oppressors. The orator commenced with 
 the early history of the country, described the tenure 
 by which we held our liberties and property the affec 
 tion we had constantly shown the parent country, and 
 boldly told them how, and by whom these blessings of 
 life had been violated. There was in this appeal to 
 Britain in this description of suffering, agony, and 
 horror, a calm and high-souled defiance which must have 
 
302 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 chilled the blood of every sensible foe. Such another 
 hour has seldom happened in the history of man, and is 
 not surpassed in the records of nations. The thunders 
 of Demosthenes rolled at a distance from Philip and his 
 host and Tully poured the fiercest torrent of his invec 
 tive when Catalme was at a distance, and his dagger no 
 longer to be feared: but Warren s speech was made to 
 proud oppressors, resting on their arms, whose errand it 
 was to overawe, and whose business it was to fight. 
 
 If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemorated 
 by history, poetry, painting, and sculpture, should not 
 this instance of patriotism and bravery be held in last 
 ing remembrance? If he 
 
 "That struck the foremost man of all this world." 
 
 was hailed as the first of freemen, what honours are not 
 due to him, who undismayed bearded the British lion, to 
 show the world what his countrymen dared to do in the 
 cause of liberty? If the statue of Brutus was placed 
 among those of the gods, who were the presevers of 
 Roman freedom, should not that of Warren fill a lofty 
 niche in the temple reared to perpetuate the remem 
 brance of our birth as a nation? 
 
 If independence was not at first openly avowed by 
 our leading men at that time, the hope of attaining it 
 was fondly cherished, and the exertions of the patriots 
 pointed to this end. The wise knew that the storm r 
 which the political Prosperos were raising, would pass 
 away in the blood. With these impressions on his 
 mind, Warren for several years was preparing himself 
 by study and observation, to take a conspicuous rank in 
 the military arrangements which he knew must ensue. 
 
 On the 18th of April, 1775, by his agent in Boston, 
 he discovered the design of the British commander to 
 seize or destroy our few stores at Concord. He instant 
 ly despatched several confidential messengers to Lex 
 ington. The late venerable patriot, Paul Revere, was 
 one of them. This gentleman has given a very inter 
 esting account of the difficulties he encountered in the 
 discharge of this duty. The alarm was given, and the 
 militia, burmng with resentment, were at daybreak on 
 
JOSEPH \VARREtf, 303 
 
 the 19th on the road to repel insult and aggression. 
 The Dramii was opened about sunrise, within a few 
 yards of the house of God, in Lexington. Warren has 
 tened to the field of action, in the full ardour of his soul, 
 and shared the dangers of the day. While pressing on 
 the enemy, a musket-ball took off a lock of his hair close 
 to his ear. The lock was rolled and pinned, after the 
 fashion of that day, and considerable force must have 
 been necessary to have cut it away. The people were 
 delighted with his cool, collected bravery, and already 
 considered him as a leader, whose gallantry they were 
 to admire, and in whose talents they were to confide. 
 On the 14th of June, 1775, the Provincial Congress of 
 Massachusetts made him a major general of their for 
 ces, but previous to the date of his commission, he had 
 been unceasing in his exertions to maintain order and 
 enforce discipline among the troops, which had hastily 
 assemble.! at Cambridge, after the battle of Lexington. 
 He mingled in the ranks, and by every method and ar 
 gument strove to inspire them with confidence, and suc 
 ceeded in a most wonderful manner in imparting to 
 them a portion of the flame which glowed in his own 
 breast. At such a crisis genius receives its birth right 
 the homage of inferior minds, who for self-preservation 
 are willing to be directed. Previous to receiving the 
 appointment of major general, he had been requested to 
 take the office of physician general to the army, but he 
 chose to be where wounds were to be made, rather than 
 where they were to be healed. Yet he lent his aid 
 and advice to the medical department of the army, and 
 was of great service to them in their organization and 
 arrangements. 
 
 He was at this time president of the Provincial Con 
 gress, having been elected the preceding year a member 
 from the town of Boston. In this body he discoved his 
 extraordinary powers of mind, and his peculiar fitness 
 for responsible offices at such a juncture. Cautious in 
 proposing measures, he was assiduous in pursuing what 
 he thought, after mature deliberation, to be right, and 
 never counted the probable cost of a measure, when he 
 had decided that it was necessary to be taken, When this 
 
304 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 congress, which was sitting at Watertown, adjourned for 
 the day, he mounted his horse and hastened to the 
 camp. Every day l he bought golden opinions of all 
 sorts of men ; and when the troops were called to act 
 on Breed s Hill, he had so often been among them, that 
 his person was known to most of the soldiers. 
 
 Several respectable historians have fallen into some 
 errors in describing the battle in which he fell, by giv 
 ing the command of the troops on that day to Warren, 
 when he was only a volunteer in the fight. He did not 
 arrive on the battle ground until the enemy had com 
 menced their movements for the attack. As soon as he 
 made his appearance on the field, the veteran comman 
 der of the day, Colonel Prescott, desired to act under 
 his directions, but Warren declined taking any other 
 part than that of a volunteer, and added that he came 
 to learn the art of war from an experienced soldier, 
 whose orders he should be happy to obey. In the bat 
 tle he was armed with a musket, and stood in the ranks. 
 DOW and then changing his place to encourage his fel 
 low-soldiers by words and by example. He undoubt 
 edly, from the state of hostilities, expected soon to act 
 in his high military capacity, and it was indispensable, 
 according to his views, that he should share the dangers 
 of the field as a common soldier with his fellow-citi 
 zens, that his reputation for bravery might be put beyond 
 the possibility of suspicion. The wisdom of such a 
 course would never have been doubted, if he had re 
 turned in safety from the fight. In such a struggle for 
 independence, the ordinary rules of prudenee and cau 
 tion could not govern those who were building up their 
 names for future usefulness by present exertion. Some 
 maxims drawn from the republican writers of antiquity 
 were worn as their mottos. Some precepts descriptive 
 of the charms of liberty, were ever on their tongues, and 
 some classical model of Greek, or Roman patriotism, 
 was constantly in their minds. Instances of great men 
 mixing in the rank of common soldiers, were to be 
 found in ancient times, when men fought for their altars 
 and thier homes. The cases were parallel, and the ex 
 amples were imposing. When the battle was decided, 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 305 
 
 and our people fled, Warren was one of the last, who 
 left the breastwork, and was slain within a few yards of 
 it as he was slowly retiring. He probably felt mortified 
 at the event of the day, but had he known how dearly 
 the victory was purchased, and how little honor was 
 gained by those who won it, his heart would have been 
 at rest. Like the band of Leonidas, the vanquished 
 have received by the judgment of nations, from which 
 there is no appeal, the imperishable laurels of victors. 
 His death brought a sickness to the heart of the com 
 munity, and the people mourned his fall, not with the 
 convulsive agony of a betrothed virgin over the bleeding 
 corpse of her lover but with the pride of the Spartan 
 mother, who in the intensity of her grief, smiled to see 
 that the wounds whence life had flown, were on the 
 breast of her son and was satisfied that he had died in 
 defence of his country. The worth of the victim, arid 
 the horror of the sacrifice, gave a higher value to our 
 liberties, and produced a more fixed determination to 
 preserve them. 
 
 The battle of Bunker Hill has often been described, 
 and of late its minutest details given to the public, but 
 never was the military, moral, and political character 
 of that gteat event more forcibly drawn, than in the fol 
 lowing extract from the North American Review, for 
 July, l18: 
 
 "The incidents and the result of the battle itself, were 
 most important, and indeed, most wonderful. As a mere 
 battle, few surpass it in whatever engages and interests 
 the attention. It was fought on a conspicuous eminence, 
 in the immediate neighbourhood of a populous city; 
 and consequently in the view of thousands of spectators. 
 The attacking army moved over a sheet of water to the 
 assault. The operations and movements were of course 
 all visible and all distinct. Those who looked on from 
 the houses and heights of Boston had a fuller view of 
 every important operation and event, than can ordinari 
 ly be had of any battle, or that can possibly be had of 
 such as are fought on a more extended ground, or by de 
 tachments of troops acting in different places, and at 
 different times, and in some measure independently of 
 
 P2 
 
306 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 each other. When the British columns were advan 
 cing to the attack, the flames of Charlestown, (fired, as 
 is generally supposed, by a shell) began to ascend. The 
 spectators, far outnumbering both armies, thronged and 
 crowded on every height and every point which afforded 
 a view of the scene, themselves constituted a very im 
 portant part of it. 
 
 "The troops of the two armies seemed like so many 
 combatants in an amphitheatre. The manner which they 
 should acquit themselves, was to be judged of, not as in 
 other cases of military engagements, by reports and fu 
 ture history, but by a vast and anxious assembly al 
 ready on the spot, and waiting with unspeakable con 
 cern and emotion the progress of the day. 
 
 "In other battles the recollection of wives and chil 
 dren has been used as an excitement to animate the 
 warrior s breast and nerve his arm. iJere was not a 
 mere recollection, but an actual presence of them and 
 other dear connexions, hanging on the skirts of the bat 
 tle, anxious and agitated, feeling almost as if wounded 
 themselves by every blow of the enemy, and putting 
 forth, as it were, their own strength, and all the energy 
 of their own throbbing bosoms, into every gallant effort 
 of their warring friends. 
 
 "But there was a more comprehensive and vastly 
 more important view of that day s contest, than has 
 been mentioned, a view, indeed, which ordinary eyes, 
 bent intently on what was immediately before them, did 
 not embrace, but which was perceived in its full extent 
 and expansion by minds of a higher order. Those 
 men who were at the head of the colonial councils, who 
 had been engaged for years in the previous stages of the 
 quarrel with England, and who had been accustomed 
 to look forward to the future, were well apprised of the 
 magnitude of the events likely to hang on the business 
 of that day. They saw in it. not only a battle, but the 
 beginning of a civil war, of unmeasured extent and un 
 certain issue. All America and all England were likely 
 to be deeply concerned in the consequences. The indi 
 viduals themselves, who knew full well what agency 
 they had had, in bringing affairs to this crisis, had need 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 307 
 
 of all their courage; not that disregard of personal 
 safety, in which the vulgar suppose true courage to con 
 sist, but that high and fixed moral sentiment, that steady 
 and decided purpose, which enables men to pursue a 
 distant end, with a full view of the difficulties and dan 
 gers before them, and with a conviction that, before they 
 arrive at the proposed end, should they ever reach it^ 
 they must pass through evil report as well as good re 
 port, and be liable to obloquy, as well as to defeat. 
 
 "Spirits, that fear nothing else, fear disgrace: and this 
 danger is necessarily encountered by those who engage 
 in civil war. Unsuccessful resistance is not only ruin 
 to it authors, but is esteemed, and necessarily so, by 
 the laws of all countries, treasonable. This is the case, 
 at least till resistance becomes so general and formidable 
 as to assume the form of regular war. But who can 
 tell, when resistance commences, whether it will attain 
 even to that degree of success? Some of those per 
 sons who signed the Declaration of Independence in 
 1776, described themselves as signing it, "as with hal 
 ters about their necks." If there were grounds for this 
 remark in 1776, when the cause had become so much 
 more general, how much greater was the hazard, when 
 the battle of Bunker Hill was fought? 
 
 "These considerations constituted, to enlarged and 
 liberal minds, the moral sublimity of the occasion ; while 
 to the outward senses the movement of armies, the roar 
 of artillery, the brilliancy of the reflection of a summer s 
 sun, from the burnished armour of the British columns, 
 and the flames of a burning town, made up a scene of 
 extraordinary grandeur." 
 
 This eminence has become sacred /ground. It con 
 tains in its bosom the ashes of the brave who died fight 
 ing to defend their altars and their homes. Strangers 
 from all countries visit this spot, for it is associated in 
 their memories with Marathon and Plataeae, and all the 
 mighty struggles of determined freemen. Our citizens 
 love to wander over this field the aged to awake re 
 collections, and the youthful to excite heroic emotions. 
 The battle ground is now all plainly to be seen the 
 spirit of modern improvement, which would stop the 
 
308 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 streams of Helicon to turn a mill, anrl cause to be felled 
 the trees of Paradise to make a rafter, has yel spared 
 this hallowed height. 
 
 If "the days of chivalry be gone for ever," and the 
 high and enthusiastic feelings of generosity and magna 
 nimity be not so widely diffused as in more heroic ages, 
 yet it cannot be denied but that there have been, and 
 still are, individuals whose bosoms are warmed with a 
 spirit as glowing and ethereal as ever swelled the heart 
 of "mailed knight" who in the ecstacies of love, religion 
 and martial glory, joined the war-cry on the plains of 
 Palestine, or proved his steel on the infidel foe. The 
 history of every revolution is interspersed with brilliant 
 episodes of individual prowess. The pages of our own 
 history, when fully written out, will sparkle profusly with 
 these gems of romantic valour. 
 
 The calmness and indifference of the veteran "in 
 clouds of dust, and seas of blood," can only be acquired 
 by long acquaintance with the trade of death; but the 
 heights of Charlestown will bear eternal testimony ho w 
 suddenly, in the cause of freedom the peaceful citizen 
 can become the invincible warrior stung by oppression, 
 he springs forward from his tranquil pursuits, undaunted 
 by opposition, and undismayed by danger, to fight even 
 to death for the defence of his rights. Parents, wives, 
 children, and country, all the hallowed properties of ex 
 istence, are to him the talisman that takes fear irom his 
 heart, and nerves his arm to victory. 
 
 In the requiem over those who have fallen in the cause 
 of their country, which 
 
 "Time with bis own eternal lips shall sing." 
 
 the praises of WARREN shall be distinctly heard. 
 
 The blood of those patriots who have fallen in the 
 defence of Republics has often "cried from the ground" 
 against the ingratitude of the country for which it was 
 sheil. No monument was reared to their fame, no re 
 cord of their virtues written ; no fostering hand extended 
 to their offspring but they and their deeds were neg 
 lected and forgotten. Toward Warren there was no 
 ingratitude our country is free from this stain. Congress 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 309 
 
 were the guardians of his honour, and remembered that 
 his children were unprotected orphans. Within a year 
 after his death, Congress passed the following resolu 
 tions: 
 
 That a monument be erected to the memory of Gen 
 eral A arren, in the town of Boston, with the following 
 inscription: 
 
 IN HONOUR OF 
 
 JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 Major General of Massachusetts Bay. 
 
 He devoted his Life to the 
 
 liberties of his country, 
 
 And in bravely defending them. 
 
 fell an early victim in the 
 
 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, 
 
 June 17, 1775. 
 The Congress of the United 
 States, as an acknowledg 
 ment of his services and 
 distinguished merit, 
 have erected this 
 monument to his 
 memory. 
 
 It was resolved likewise, That the eldest son of Gen, 
 Warren should be educated from that time at the ex 
 pense of the United States. On the first of July, 1780, 
 congress recognising these former resolutions, further re 
 solved, That it should be recommended to the execu 
 tive of Massachusetts Bay to make provision for the 
 maintenance and education of his three younger chil 
 dren. And that congress would defray the expense to 
 the amount of the half pay of a major general, to com 
 mence at the time of his death, and continue till the 
 youngest of the children should be of age. The part of 
 the resolutions relating to the education of the children, 
 was carried into effect accordingly. The monument is 
 not yet erected, but it is not too late. The shade of W r ar- 
 ren will not repine at this neglect, while the ashes of 
 Washington repose without gravestone or epitaph."* 
 
 "Biographical Sketches. 
 
PELEG WADS WORTH. 
 
 PELEG WADSWORTH, 
 
 General of the Massachusetts Militia. 
 
 "THE following is an abstract of an interesting narra 
 tive taken from the travels of the late Dr. Dwight. 
 
 After the failure of the expedition against the Brit 
 ish garrison at Penobscot, General Peleg Wadsworth 
 was appointed in the spring of 1780, to the command of 
 a party of state troops in Camden, in the District of 
 Maine. At the expiration of the period for which the 
 troops were engaged, in February following, General 
 Wadsworth dsimissed his troops, retaining six soldiers 
 only as his guard, and he was making preparations to 
 depart from the place. A neighbouring inhabitant com 
 municated his situation to the British commander at 
 Penobscot, and a party of twenty-five soldiers, com 
 manded by Lieutenant Stockton, was sent to make him 
 a prisoner. They embarked in a small schooner, and 
 landing within four miles of the general s quarters, they 
 were concealed at the house of one Snow, a methodist 
 preacher, professedly a friend to him, but really a traitor, 
 till eleven o clock in the evening, where they made their 
 arrangements for the attack on the general s quarters. 
 The party rushed suddenly on the sentinel, who gave 
 the alarm, and one of his comrades instantly opened the 
 door of the kitchen, and the enemy were so near as to 
 enter with the sentinel. The lady of the general, and 
 her friend Miss Fenno, of Boston, were in the house at 
 the time; and Mrs. Wadsworth escaped from the room 
 of her husband into that of Miss Fenno. The assail 
 ants soon became masters of the whole house, except 
 the room where the general was, and which was strong 
 ly barred, and they kept up a constant firing of musketry 
 into the windows and doors, except into those of the 
 ladies room. General Wadsworth was provided with a 
 pair of pistols, a blunderbuss, and a fusee, which he em 
 ployed with great dexterity, being determined to defend 
 himself to the last moment. With his pistols, which he 
 discharged several times, he defended the windows of 
 his room, and a door which opened into the kitchen. 
 His blunderbuss he snapped several times, but unfortu- 
 
PELEG WADS WORTH, 311 
 
 nately it missed fire ; he then seized his fusee, which he 
 discharged on some who were breaking through one of 
 the windows, and obliged them to flee. He next defen 
 ded himself with his bayonet, till he received a ball 
 through his left arm, when he surrendered, which termi 
 nated the contest. The firing, however, did not cease 
 from the kitchen, till the general unbarred the door, when 
 the soldiers rushed into the room ; and one of them, who 
 had been badly wounded, pointing a musket at his 
 breast, exclaimed with an oath, you have taken my life, 
 and I will take yours. But Lieutenant Stockton turn 
 ed the musket, and saved his life. The commanding 
 officer now applauded the general for his admirable de 
 fence, and assisted in putting on his clothes, saying, 
 you see we are in a critical situation; you must excuse, 
 haste. Mrs. Wadsvvorth threw a blanket over him, 
 and Miss Fenno applied a handkerchief closely around 
 his wounded arm. In this condition, though much ex 
 hausted, he, with a wounded American soldier, was di 
 rected to march on foot, while two British wounded 
 soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from the gener 
 al s barn. They departed in great haste. When they 
 had proceeded about a mile, they met at a small house 
 a number of people who had collected, and who inqui 
 red if they had taken General Wadsvvorth. They said 
 no, and added that they must leave a wounded man in 
 their care; and if they paid proper attention to him, 
 they should be compensated; but if not, they would burn 
 down their house; but the man appeared to be dying. 
 General Wadsworth was now mounted on the horse, be 
 hind the other wounded soldier, and was warned that 
 his safety depended on his silence. Having crossed 
 over a frozen millpond, about a mile in length, they were 
 met by some of their party who had been left behind. 
 At this place they found the British privateer which 
 brought the party from the fort: the captain, on being 
 told that he must return there with the prisoner and the 
 party, and seeing some of his men wounded, became 
 outrageous, and damned the general for a rebel, de 
 manded how he dared to fire on the king s troops, and 
 ordered him to help launch the boat, or he would put his 
 
312 I ELEG WADS WORTH. 
 
 hanger through his body. The general replied that he 
 was a prisoner, and badly wounded, and could not as 
 sist in launching the boat. Lieutenant Stockton, on hear 
 ing of his abusive treatment, in a manner honourable to 
 himself, told the captain that the prisoner was a gentle 
 man, had made a brave defence, and was to be treated 
 accordingly, and added, that his conduct should be rep 
 resented to General Campbell. After this the captain 
 treated the prisoner with great civility, and afforded him 
 every comfort in his power. General Wadsworth had 
 left the ladies in the house, not a window of which es 
 caped destruction. The doors were broken down, and 
 two of the rooms were set on fire, the floors covered 
 with blood, and on one of them lay a brave old soldier 
 dangerously wounded, begging for death, that he might 
 be released from misery. The anxiety and distress of 
 Mrs. Wadsworth was inexpressible, and that of the gen 
 eral was greatly increased by the uncertainty in his 
 mind respecting the fate of his little son, only five years 
 old, who had been exposed to every danger by the firing 
 into the house; but he had the happiness afterward to 
 hear of his safety. Having arrived at the British post, 
 the capture of General W adsworth was soon announ 
 ced, and the shore thronged with spectators, to see the 
 man who, through the preceding year, had disappointed 
 all the designs of the British in that quarter; and loud 
 shouts were heard from the rabble which covered the 
 shore; but when he arrived at the fort, and was conduct 
 ed into the officers guard room, he was treated with 
 politeness. General Campbell, the commandant of the 
 British garrison, sent his compliments to him, and a sur 
 geon to dress his wounds; assuring him that his situation 
 should be made comfortable. The next morning Gen. 
 Campbell invited him to breakfast, and at table paid 
 him many compliments on the defence he had made, 
 observing, however, that he had exposed himself in a 
 degree not perfectly justifiable. General Wadsworth 
 replied, that from the manner of the attack he had no 
 reason to suspect any design of taking him alive, and 
 that he intended therefore to sell his life as dearly as 
 possible. But, sir, says Gen. Campbell, 4 1 understand 
 
PELEG WADS WORTH. 313 
 
 that the Captain of the privateer treated you very ill; I 
 shall see that matter set right. He then informed the 
 prisoner, that a room in the officers barracks within the 
 fort was prepared for him, and that he should send his 
 orderly sergeant daily to attend him to breakfast and 
 dinner at his table. Having retired to his solitary apart 
 ment, and white his spirits were extremely depressed 
 by a recollection of the past, and by his present situa 
 tion, he received from General Campbell several books 
 of amusement, and soon after a visit from him, kindly 
 endeavouring to cheer the spirits of his prisoner by con 
 versation. Not long after, the officers of the party 
 called, and among others the redoubtable captain of the 
 privateer, who called to ask pardon for what had fallen 
 from him when in a passion: adding that it was not in 
 his nature to treat a gentleman prisoner ill ; that the un 
 expected disappointment of his cruise had thrown him 
 off his guard, and he hoped that this would be deemed 
 a sufficient apology. This General Wadsworth ac 
 cepted. At the hour of dining he was invited to the 
 table of the commandant, where he met with all the 
 principal officers of the garrison, and from whom he re 
 ceived particular attention and politeness. General 
 Wadsworth soon made application to the commandant 
 for a flag of truce, by which means he could transmit a 
 letter to the governor of Massachusetts, and another to 
 Mrs. Wadsworth: this was granted, on condition that 
 the letter to the governor should be inspected. The 
 flag was intrusted to Lieutenant Stockton, and on his 
 return, the general was relieved from all anxiety res 
 pecting his wife and family. General Campbell, and 
 the officers of the garrison, continued their civilities for 
 some time, and endeavoured, by books and personal vis 
 its, to render his situation as pleasant as circumstances 
 would admit of. At the end of five weeks, his wound 
 being nearly healed, he requested of General Campbell 
 the customary privilege of a parole, and received in 
 reply, that his case had been reported to the command 
 ing officer at New- York, and that no alteration could be 
 made till orders were received from that quarter. In 
 about two months. Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss Frnno 
 
 Q2 
 
314 PELKG WADSWORTH, 
 
 arrived; and General Campbell, and some of the (Tffi- 
 cers, contributed to render their visit agreeable to all 
 concerned. About the same time, orders were received 
 from the commanding general at New York, which were 
 concealed from General Wadsworth ; but he finally learnt 
 that he was not to be paroled nor exchanged, but was 
 to be sent to England as a rebel of too much conse 
 quence to be at liberty. Not long afterward Major Ben 
 jamin Burton, a brave and worthy man, who had served 
 under General Wadsworth the preceding summer, was 
 taken and brought into the fort, and lodged in the same 
 room with General Wadsworth. He had been inform 
 ed, that both himself and the general were to be sent, 
 immediately after the return of a privateer, now out on 
 a cruise, either to New York or Halifax, and thence to 
 England. The prisoners immediately resolved to make 
 a desperate attempt to effect their escape. They were 
 confined in a grated room in the officers barracks, with 
 in the fort. The walls of this fortress, exclusively of 
 the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were twenty feet 
 high, with fraising on the top, and chevaux de frise at the 
 bottom. Two sentinels were always in the entry, and 
 their door, the upper part of which was of glass, might 
 pe opened by these watchmen whenever they thought 
 proper, and was actually opened at seasons of peculiar 
 darkness and silence. At the exterior doors of the 
 entries, sentinels were also stationed; as were others in 
 the body of the fort, and at the quarters of General 
 Campbell. At the guard-house, a strong guard was 
 daily mounted. Several sentinels were stationed on the 
 walls or the fort, and a complete line occupied them by 
 night. Without the ditch, glacis and abattis, another 
 complete set of soldiers patroled through the night, also. 
 The gate of the fort was shut at sunset, and a piquet 
 guard was placed on or near the isthmus leading from 
 the fort to the main lafid. 
 
 The room in which they were confined was railed 
 with boards. One of these they determined to cut off 
 so as to make a hole large enough to pass through, and 
 then to creep along till they should come to the next or 
 middle entry ; and then lower themselves down into this 
 
PELEG WADS WORTH. 3l/> 
 
 entry by a blanket. If they should not be discovered, 
 the passage to the walls of the fort was easy. In the 
 evening, after the sentinels had seen the prisoners retire 
 to bed, General Wadsworth got up and standing on a 
 chair, attempted to cut with his knife the intended open- 
 in", but soon found it impracticable. The next day by 
 giving a soldier a dollar they procured a gimblet. With 
 this instrument they proceeded cautiously and as silent 
 ly as possible to perforate the board, and in order to 
 conceal every appearance from their servants and from 
 the officers their visiters, they carefully covered the 
 gimblet holes with chewed bread. At the end of three 
 weeks their labours were so far completed that it only 
 remained to cut with a knife the parts which were left 
 to hold the piece in its place. When their preparations 
 were finished, they learned that a privateer in which 
 they were to embark was daily expected. In the eve 
 ning of the 18th of June, a very severe storm of rain, 
 with great darkness and almost incessant lightning came 
 on. This the prisoners considered as the propitious 
 moment. Having extinguished their lights, they began 
 to cut the corners of the board, and in less than an hour 
 the intended opening was completed. The noise which 
 the operation occasioned was drowned by the rain, fal 
 ling on the roof. (Major Burton first ascended to the 
 ceiling, and pressed himself through the opening. Gen. 
 Wadsworth next, having put the corner of his blanket 
 through the hole and made it fast by a strong wooden 
 skewer, attempted to make his way through, standing 
 on a chair below, but it was with extreme difficulty that 
 he at length effected it, and reached the middle entry. 
 From this he passed through the door which he founcl 
 open, and made his way to the wall of the fort, and had 
 to encounter the greatest difficulty before he could as 
 cend to the top. He had now to creep along the top 
 of the fort between the sentry boxes at the very moment 
 when the relief was shifting sentinels, but the falling o( 
 heavy rain kept the sentinels within their boxes, and fa 
 vored his escape. Having now fastened his blanket round 
 a picket at the top, he let himself down through the 
 chevaux de frise to- the ground, and in a. manner aston- 
 
316. WILLIAM WASHINGTON. 
 
 ishing to himself made his way into the open field. 
 Here he was obliged to grope his way among rocks, 
 stumps, and brush, in the darkness of night, till he reach 
 ed the cove; happily the tide had ebbed and enabled 
 him to cross the water about a mile in breadth, and not 
 more than three feet deep. About two o clock in the 
 morning General Wadsworth found himself a mile and 
 a half from the fort, and lie proceeded through a thick 
 wood and brush to the Penobscot River, and after pasr 
 sing some distance along the shore, being seven miles 
 from the fort, to his unspeakable joy he saw his friend 
 Burton advancing towards him. Major Burton had 
 been obliged to encounter in his course equal difficulties 
 with his companion, and such were the incredible per 
 ils, dangers, and obstructions, which they surmounted, 
 that their escape may be considered almost miraculous. 
 It was now necessary they should cross the Penobscot 
 River, and very fortunately they discovered a canoe 
 with oars on the shore suited to their purpose. While 
 on the river they discovered a barge with a party of 
 British from the fort in pursuit of them, but by taking 
 an oblique course, and plying their oars to the utmost, 
 they happily eluded the eyes of their pursuers and arri 
 ved safe on the western shore. After having wandered 
 in the wilderness for several days and nights, exposed to 
 extreme fatigue and cold, and with no other food than a 
 little dry bread and meat, which they brought in their 
 pockets from the fort, they reached the settlements on 
 the River St. George, and no further difficulties attended 
 their return to their respective families."* 
 
 WILLIAM W .\SIIINGTON, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 " HE was the eldest son of Baily Washington, Esq. 
 of Stafford county, in the state of Virginia; and belong 
 ed to a younger branch of the original Washington 
 family. 
 
 Thatcher s Journal 
 
, WILLIAM WASHINGTON. 
 
 III the commencement of the war, and at an early 
 period of life, he had entered the army, as captain of a 
 company of infantry under the command of General 
 Mercer. In this corps, he had acquired from actual ser 
 vice a practical knowledge of the profession of arms. 
 
 He fought in the battle of Long Island; and, in his 
 retreat through New-Jersey, accompanied his great kins 
 man, cheerful under the gloom, coolly confronting the 
 danger, and bearing, with exemplary fortitude and firm 
 ness, the heavy misfortunes and privations of the time. 
 
 In the successful attack on the British post at Tren 
 ton, Captain Washington acted a brilliant and most im 
 portant part. Perceiving the enemy about to form a 
 battery, and point it into a narrow street, against the 
 advancing American column, he charged them at the 
 head of his company, drove them from their guns, and 
 thus prevented, certainly, the effusion of much blood, 
 perhaps, the repulse of the assailing party. In this 
 act of heroism, he received a severe wound in the wrist. 
 It is but justice to add, that on this occasion, Captain 
 Washington was ably and most gallantly supported by 
 Lieutenant Monroe, late President of the United States, 
 who also sustained a wound in the hand. 
 
 Shortly after this adventure, Washington was promo 
 ted to a majority in a regiment of horse. In this com 
 mand he was very actively engaged in the northern and 
 middle states, with various success, until the year 1780. 
 Advanced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and placed 
 at the head of a regiment of cavalry, composed of the 
 remains of three that had been reduced, by sickness 
 and battle, he was then attached to the army under 
 General Lincoln, engaged in the defence of South Caro 
 lina. 
 
 Here his service was various, and his course eventful ; 
 marked by a few brilliant strokes of fortune, but check 
 ered with two severe disasters. The first of these re 
 verses, was at Monk s Corner, where he himself com 
 manded ; the other, at Leneau s Ferry, where he was 
 second in command to Col. White. 
 
 Inured to an uncommon extent and variety of hard 
 services, and sufficiently disciplined in the school of 
 
318 WILLIAM WASHINGTON. 
 
 adversity, Colonel Washington, although a young man,, 
 was now a veteran in military experience. Added to 
 this, he was somewhnt accustomed to a warm climate, 
 and had acquired from actual observation, considerable 
 knowledge of that tract of country, which was to con 
 stitute in future, the theatre of war. 
 
 Such was this officer, when at the head of a regiment 
 of cavalry, he was attached to the army of Oeneral 
 Greene. 
 
 One of his partisan exploits, however, the result of a 
 well conceived stratagem, must be succinctly narrated. 
 
 Having learnt during a scouting excursion, that a large 
 body of loyalists commanded by Col. Rudgley, was pos 
 ted at Rudgley s mill, twelve miles from Camden, he 
 determined on attacking them. 
 
 Approaching the enemy, he found them so secured in 
 a large log barn, surrounded by abattis, as to be perfectly 
 safe from the operations of cavalry. 
 
 Forbidden thus to attempt his object by direct attack, 
 his usual and favourite mode of warfare, he determined 
 for once to have recourse to policy. 
 
 Shaping, therefore, a pine log in imitation of a field- 
 piece, mounting it on the wheels, and staining it with 
 mud to make it look like iron, he brought it up in milita 
 ry style, and effected to make arrangements to batter 
 down the barn. 
 
 To give the stratagem solemnity and effect, he des 
 patched a flag, warning the garrison of the impending 
 destruction, and to prevent bloodshed, summoned them 
 to submission. 
 
 Not prepared to resist artillery, Colonel Rudgley 
 obeyed the summons: and with a garrison of one hun 
 dred and three rank and file, surrendered at disrretion. 
 
 In the spring of 1782, Colonel Washington married 
 Miss Eliot, of Charleston, and established, himself at 
 Sandy Hill, her ancestral seat. 
 
 After the conclusion of peace, he took no other con 
 cern in public affairs, than to appear occasionally in the 
 legislature of South Carolina. 
 
 When General Washington accepted the command 
 in chief of the armies of the United States, under the 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 presidency of \fr. Adams, he selected as one of his 
 staff, his kinsman Colonel William Washington, with 
 the rank of brigadier-general. Had no other proof 
 been wanting, this alone was sufficient to decide his mil 
 itary worth. 
 
 In private life he was a man of unsullied honour, uni 
 ted to an amiable temper, lively manners, a hospitable 
 disposition, and a truly benevolent heart."* 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, ESQ. 
 
 Commander in Chief of the American Army. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, commander in chief of the 
 American army during the war with Great Britain, and 
 first president of the United States, was the third son 
 of Mr. Augustine Washington, and was born at Bridg 
 es Creek in the county of Westmoreland, Virginia, Feb 
 ruary 22d, 1732. His great grandfather had emigrated 
 to that place from the north of England about the year 
 1657. At the age of ten years he lost his father, and 
 the patrimonial estate descended to his elder brother, 
 Mr. Lawrence Washington, who in the year 1740 had 
 been engaged in the expedition against Carthagena. 
 In honour of the British admiral, who commanded the 
 fleet, employed in that enterprise, the estate was called 
 Mount Vernon. At the age of fifteen, agreeably to the 
 wishes of his brother as well as to his own urgent re 
 quest to enter into the British navy, the place of a mid 
 shipman in a vessel of war, then stationed on the coast 
 of Virginia, was obtained for him. Every thing was in 
 readiness for his departure, when the fears of a timid 
 and affectionate mother prevailed upon him to abandon 
 his proposed career on the ocean, and were the means 
 of retaining him upon the land to be the future vindica 
 tor of his country s rights All the advantages of edu 
 cation which he enjoyed, were derived from a private 
 tutor, who instructed him in the English literature and 
 the general principles of science, as well as in morality 
 and religion. After his disappointment with regard to 
 
 *Life of Gen. Greene 
 
320 GEORGE WASHINGTON,, 
 
 entering the navy, lie devoted such of his time, to the 
 study of the mathematics; and in the practice of his 
 profession as a surveyor, he had an opportunity of ac 
 quiring that information respecting the value of vacant 
 lands, which afterward greatly contributed to the in 
 crease of his private fortune. At the age of nineteen, 
 when the militia of Virginia were to be trained for ac 
 tual service, he was appointed an adjutant general with 
 the rank of major. It was for a very short time, .that 
 he discharged the duties of this office. In the year 
 1753, the plan formed by France for connecting Canada 
 with Louisiana by a line of posts, and thus of enclosing 
 the British colonies, and of establishing her influence 
 over the numerous tribes of Indians on the frontiers, be 
 gan to be developed. In the prosecution of this design 
 possession had been taken of a tract of land, then be 
 lieved to be within the province of Virginia. Mr. Din- 
 widdie, the lieutenant governor, being determined to re 
 monstrate against the supposed encroachment, and vio 
 lation of the treaties between the two countries, des 
 patched Major Washington through the wilderness to 
 the Ohio, to deliver a letter to the commanding officer of 
 the French, and also to explore the country. This trust 
 of danger and fatigue he executed with great ability. 
 He left Williamsburg October 31, 1753, the very day, 
 on which he received his commission, and at the fron 
 tier settlement of the English engaged guides to con 
 duct him over the Alleghany mountains. After passing 
 them he pursued his route to the. Monongahela and Al 
 leghany Rivers as a position, which ought to be imme 
 diately possessed and fortified. At this place the 
 French very soon erected Fort du Quesne, which fell 
 into the hands of the English in 1758, and was called 
 by them Fort Pitt. Pursuing his way up the Alleghany 
 to French Creel:, he found at a Fort upon this stream 
 the commanding officer, to whom he delivered the letter 
 from Mr. Dinwiddie. On his return he encountered 
 great difficulties and dangers. As the snow was deep 
 and the horses weak from fatigue, he left his attendants- 
 at the mouth of French Creek, and set out on foot, with 
 bis papers and provisions in his pack, accompanied 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 only by his pilot, Mr. Gist. At a place upon the Alle- 
 ghany, called Murderingtown, they fell in with a hostile 
 Indian, who was one of a party then lying in wait, and 
 who fired upon them, not ten steps distant. They took 
 him into custody and kept him until nine o clock, and 
 then let him go. To avoid the pursuit, which they pre 
 sumed would be commenced in the morning, they trav 
 elled all night. On reaching the Monongahela, they had 
 a hard day s work to make a raft with a hatchet. In 
 attempting to cross the river to reach a trader s house, 
 they were enclosed by masses of ice. In order to stop 
 the raft Major Washington put down his setting pole; 
 but the ice came with such force against it, as to jerk 
 him into the water. He saved himself by seizing one of 
 the raft logs. With difficulty they landed on an island, 
 where they passed the night. The cold was so severe, 
 that the pilot s hands and feet were frozen. The next 
 day they crossed the river upon the i<fb. Washington 
 arrived at Williamsburg January 16, A?54. His Jour 
 nal, which evinced the solidity of l*s judgment and his 
 fortitude, was published. 
 
 As the French seemed disposed to remain upon the 
 Ohio, it was determined to raise a regiment of three 
 hundred men to maintain the claims of the British 
 crown. The command was given to Mr. Fry, and Major 
 Washington, who was appointed Lieutenant-colonel, 
 marched with two companies early in April, 17M, in 
 advance of the other troops. A few miles west of the 
 Great Meadows he surprised a French encampment 
 in a dark, rainy night, and only one man escaped. Be 
 fore the arrival of the two remaining companies Mr. Fry 
 died, and the command devolved on Col. Washington. 
 Being joined by two other companies of regular troops 
 from South Carolina and New York, after erecting a 
 small stockade at the Great Meadows, he proceeded 
 towards Fort du Quesne, which had been built but n 
 short time, with the intention of dislodging the French. 
 He had marched only thirteen miles to the westermost 
 foot of the Laurel Hill, before he received information 
 of the approach of the enemy with superior numbers, 
 and was induced to return to his stockade. HP. 
 
 R2 
 
322 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 began a ditch around it, and called it Fort Necessity ; 
 but the next day, July the third, he was attacked by 
 fifteen hundred men. His own troops were only about 
 four hundred in number. The action commenced at ten 
 in the morning, and lasted until dark. A part of the 
 Americans fought within the fort, and a part in the 
 ditch filled with mud and water. Colonel Washington 
 was himself on the outside of the fort during the whole 
 day. The enemy fought under cover of the trees and 
 high grass. In the course of the night articles of capit 
 ulation were agreed upon. The garrison were allowed 
 to retain their arms and baggage, and to march unmo 
 lested to the inhabited parts of Virginia. The loss of 
 the Americans in killed and wounded was supposed to 
 be about a hundred, and that of the enemy about twe 
 hundred. In a few months afterward orders were re 
 ceived for settling the rank of the officers, and those, 
 who were commissioned by the king, being directed to 
 take rank of the provincial officers, Col. Washington 
 indignantly resigned his commission. He now retired 
 to Mount Vernon. that estate by the death of his brother 
 having devolved upon him. But in the spring of 1755, 
 he accepted an invitation from General Braddock to 
 enter his family as a volunteer aid-de-camp, in his expe 
 dition to the Ohio. He proceeded with him to Will s 
 Creek, afterward called Fort Cumberland, in April. 
 After the troops had marched a few miles from this 
 place, he was seized with a raging fever; but refusing to 
 remain behind he was conveyed in a covered wagon. 
 By his advice twelve hundred men were detached, in 
 order, by a rapid movement, to reach Fort du Quesne 
 before an expected reinforcement should be received at 
 that place. These disencumbered troops were com 
 manded by Braddock himself, andtCoIonel Washington, 
 though still extremely ill, insisted upon proceeding with 
 them. After they arrived upon the Monongahela, he ad 
 vised the general to employ the ranging companies of 
 Virginia, to scour the woods and to prevent ambuscades ; 
 but his advise was not followed. On the ninth of July, 
 when the army was within seven miles of Fort du Ques 
 ne, the enemy commenced a sudden and furious attack, 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 323 
 
 being concealed by the wood and high grass. In a short 
 time Colonel Washington was the only aid that was un- 
 wounded, and on him devolved the whole duty of carry 
 ing the orders of the commander in chief. He was cool 
 and fearless. Though he had two horses killed under 
 him, and four balls through his coat, he escaped unhurt, 
 while every other officer on horseback was either killed 
 or wounded. Doctor Craik, the physician, who attend 
 ed him in his last sickness, was present in this battle, 
 and says, "I expected every moment to see him fall. 
 Nothing but the superintending care of Providence could 
 have saved hi -^ from the fate of ail around him." After 
 an action of three hours the troops gave way in all di 
 rections, and Col. Washington and two others brought 
 off Braddock, who had been mortally wounded. He 
 attempted to rally the retreating troops: but as he says 
 himself, it was like endeavouring "to stop the wild bears 
 of the mountains." The conduct of the regular troops 
 was most cowardly. The enemy were few in numbers 
 and had no expectation of victory. 
 
 In a sermon, occasioned by this expedition, the Rev. 
 Dr. Davis, of Hanover county, thus prophetically ex 
 pressed himself; "as a remarkable instance of patriot 
 ism, I may point out to the public that heroic youth. 
 Colonel VVashington, whom I cannot but hope Provi 
 dence has hitherto preserved in so signal a manner for 
 some important service to his country." For this pur 
 pose he was indeed preserved, and at the end of twenty 
 years he began to render his country more important 
 services, than the miuister of Jesus could have anticipa 
 ted. From 1755 to 1758 he commanded a regiment, 
 which was raised for the protection of the fronties, and 
 during this period he was incessantly occupied in efforts 
 to shield the exposed settlements from the incursions of 
 the savages. His exertions were in a great degree in 
 effectual, in consequence of the errors and the pride of 
 government, and of the impossibility of guarding, with a 
 few troops, an extended territory from an enemy, whielr 
 was averse to open warfare He, in the most earnest 
 manner, recommended offensive measures as the only 
 method of giving complete protection to the scattered 
 settlements. 
 
"J24 ClEORGi; WASHINGTON. 
 
 In the year 1758, to his great joy, it was determined 
 to undertake another expedition against Fort du Ques- 
 ne, and he engaged in it with zeal. Early in July the 
 troops were assembled at Fort Cumberland; and here, 
 against all the remonstrances and arguments of Colonel 
 Washington, General Forbes resolved to open a new 
 road to the Ohio, instead of taking the old route. Such 
 was the predicted measure, occasioned by this delay, that 
 in November it was resolved not to proceed further du 
 ring that campaign. But intelligence of the weakness 
 of the garrison induced an alteration of the plan of 
 passing the winter in the wilderness. By slow marches 
 the army was enabled, on the twenty-fifth of November, 
 to reach Fort du Quesne, of which peaceable possession 
 was taken, as the enemy on the preceding night, after 
 setting it on fire, had abandoned it, and proceeded down 
 the Ohio. The works in this place were repaired, and 
 its name was changed to that of Fort Pitt. The suc 
 cess of the expedition was to be attributed to the British 
 ileet, which intercepted reinforcements, destined for 
 Canada, and to events in the northern colonies. The 
 great object, which he had been anxious to effect, being 
 now accomplished, and his health being enfeebled, Col. 
 Washington resigned his commission as commander in 
 chief of all the troops raised in Virginia. 
 
 Soon after his resignation he was married to the wid 
 ow of Mr. Custis, a young lady, to whom he had been 
 for some time strongly attached, and who to a large for 
 tune and a fine person added those amiable accomplish 
 ments, which fill with silent felicity the scenes of domes 
 tic life. His attention, for several years, was principally 
 directed to the management of his estate, which had 
 now become considerable. He had nine thousand acres 
 under his own management. So great a part was culti 
 vated, that in one year he raised seven thousand bushels 
 of wheat, and ten thousand of Indian corn. His slaves 
 and other persons, employed by him, amounted to near 
 a thousand; and the woollen and linen cloth necessary 
 for their use was chiefly manufactured on the estate. 
 He was at this period a respectable member of the le 
 gislature of Virginia, in which he took a decided part in 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 opposition to the principle of taxation, asserted by the 
 BritishiParliament. He also acted as a judge of a coun 
 ty court. In 1774 he was elected a member of the first 
 congress, and was placed on all those committees, whose 
 duty it was to make arrangements for defence. In the 
 following year, after the battle of Lexington, when it 
 was determined by congress to resort, to arms, Colonel 
 Washington was unanimously elected commander in 
 chief of the army of the united colonies. All were sat 
 isfied as to his qualifications, and the delegates from 
 New-England were particularly pleased with his elec 
 tion, as it would tend to unite the southern colonies cor 
 dially in the war. He accepted the appointment with 
 diffidence, and expressed his intention of receiving no 
 compensation for his services, and only a mere discharge 
 of his expenses. He immediately repaired to Cam 
 bridge, in the neighbourhood of Boston, where he arri 
 ved on the second of July. He formed the army into 
 three divisions, in order the most effectually to enclose 
 the enemy, intrusting the division at Roxbury to Gen. 
 Ward, the division on Prospect and Winter Hills to 
 General Lee, and commanding himself the centre at 
 Cambridge. Here he had to struggle with great diffi 
 culties, with the want of ammunition, clothing, and mag 
 azines, defect of arms and discipline, and the evils of 
 short enlistments; but instead of yielding to despon 
 dence he bent the whole force of his mind to evercome 
 them. He soon made the alarming discovery, that 
 there was only sufficient powder on hand to furnish the 
 army with nine catridges for each man. With the great 
 est caution to keep this fact a secret, the utmost exer 
 tions were employed to procure a supply. A vessel, 
 which was despatched to Africa, obtained in exchange 
 for New-England rum all the gunpowder in the British 
 factories; and in the beginning of winter captain Manly 
 captured an ordnance brig, which furnished the Ameri 
 can army with the precise articles, of which it was in 
 the greatest want. In September, General Washington 
 despatched Arnold on- an expedition against Quebec. 
 In February, 1776, he proposed to a council of his offi 
 cers to cross the ice and attack the enemy in Boston, 
 
326 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 but they unanimously disapproved of the daring meas 
 ure. It was however soon resolved to take possession 
 of the heights of Dorchester. This was done without 
 discovery on the night of the fourth of March, and on 
 the seventeenth the enemy found it necessary to evacu 
 ate the town. The recovery of Boston induced con^ 
 gressto pass a vote of thanks to Gen. Washington and 
 his. brave army. 
 
 In the belief, that the efforts of the British would be 
 directed towards the Hudson, he hastened the army to 
 New-York, where he himself arrived on the fourteenth 
 of April. He made every exertion to fortify the city, 
 and attention was paid to the forts in the Highlands. 
 While he met the most embarrassing difficulties, a plan 
 was formed to assist the enemy in seizing his person, 
 and some of his own guards engaged in the conspiracy; 
 but it was discovered, and some, who were concerned in 
 it, were executed. 
 
 In the beginning of July, Gen. Howe landed his troops 
 at Staten Island. His brother Lord Flowe, who com 
 manded the fleet, soon arrived ; and as both were com 
 missioners for restoring peace to the colonies, the latter 
 addressed a letter upon the subject to " George Wash 
 ington, Esq." but the general refused to receive it, as it 
 did not acknowledge the public character, with which 
 he was invested by congress, in which character only he 
 could have any intercourse with his lordship. Another 
 letter was sent to "George Washington, &c. &c. &c. 
 This for the same reason was rejected. 
 
 After the disasterous battle of Brooklyn, on the 27th 
 ef August, in which Stirling and Sullivan were taken 
 prisoners, and of which he was only a spectator, he with 
 drew the troops from Long-Island, and in a few days he 
 resolved to withdraw from New-York. At Kipp s Bay, 
 about three miles from the city, some works had been 
 thrown up to oppose the enemy ; but, on their approach, 
 the American troops fled with precipitation. Washing 
 ton rode towards the lines, and made every exertion to 
 prevent the disgraceful flight. He drew his sword and 
 threatened to run the cowards through ; he cocked and 
 snapped his pistols; but it was all in vain. Such was the 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 327 
 
 state of his mind, at this moment, that he turned his 
 horse towards the advancing enemy, apparently with 
 the intention of rushing upon death. His aids now sei 
 zed the bridle of his horse and rescued him from de 
 struction. New-York was on the same day, September 
 15th, evacuated. In October he retreated to the White 
 Plains, where, on the 28th, a considerable action took 
 place, in which the Americans were overpowered. Af 
 ter the loss of Forts Washington and Lee, he passed into 
 New-Jersey, in November, and was pursued by a trium 
 phant and numerous enemy. His army did not amount 
 to three thousand, and it was daily diminishing ; his men, 
 as the winter commenced, were barefooted and almost 
 naked, destitute of tents and of utensils, with which to 
 dress their scanty provisions; and every circumstance 
 tended to fill the mind with despondence. But General 
 Washington was undismayed and firm. He showed 
 himself to his enfeebled army with a serene and unem 
 barrassed countenance, and they were inspired with the 
 resolution of their commander. On the 8th of Decem 
 ber he was obliged to cross the Delaware; but he had 
 the precaution to secure the boats for seventy miles upon 
 the river. While the British were waiting for the ice to 
 afford them a passage, as his own army had been rein 
 forced by several thousand men, he formed the resolu 
 tion of carrying the cantonments of the enemy by sur 
 prise. On the night of the 25th of December he crossed 
 the river, nine miles above Trenton, in a storm of snow, 
 mingled with hail and rain, with about two thousand and 
 four hundred men. Two other detachments were una 
 ble to effect a passage. In the morning, precisely at 
 eight o clock, he surprised Trenton, and took a thousand 
 Hessian prisoners, a thousand stand of arms, and six 
 field pieces. Twenty of the enemy were killed. Of the 
 Americans two privates were killed, and two frozen to 
 death; and one officer and three or four privates were 
 wounded. On the same day he recrossed the Delaware 
 with the fruits of his enterprise; but in two or three days 
 passed again into New-Jersey, and concentrated his 
 forces, amounting to five thousand, at Trenton. On the 
 approach of a superior enemy, under Cornwallis, Janu- 
 
328 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 ary 2, 1777, lie drew up his men behind Assumpinck 
 Creek. He expected an attack in the morning, which 
 would probably result in a ruinous defeat. At this mo 
 ment, when it was hazardous, if not impracticable to re 
 turn into Pennsylvania, he formed the resolution of get 
 ting into the rear of the enemy, and thus stop them in 
 their progress towards Philadelphia. In the night he 
 silently decamped, taking a circuitous route through Al 
 len s Town to Princeton. A sudden change of the 
 weather to severe cold rendered the roads favourable 
 for his march. About sunrise his van met a British de 
 tachment, on its way to join Cornwallis, and was de 
 feated by it; but as he came up. he exposed himself to 
 every danger, and gained a victory. With three hun 
 dred prisoners he then entered Princeton. 
 
 During this march many of his soldiers were without 
 shoes, and their feet left the marks of blood upon the fro 
 zen ground. This hardship, and their want of repose, 
 induced him to lead his army to a place of security on 
 the road to Morristovvn. Cornwallis, in the morning, 
 broke up his camp, and alarmed for his stores at Bruns 
 wick urged the pursuit. Thus the military genious of 
 the American commander, under the blessing of divine 
 Providence, rescued Philadelphia from the threatened 
 danger, obliged the enemy, which had overspread New- 
 Jersey, to return to the neighborhood of New-York, and 
 revived the desponding spirit of his country. Having 
 accomplished these objects, he retired to Morristown, 
 where lie caused his whole army to be inoculated for 
 the small-pox, and thus was freed from the apprehension 
 of a calamity, which might impede his operations du 
 ring the next campaign. 
 
 On the last of May he removed his army to Middle- 
 brook, about ten miles from Brunswick, where he forti 
 fied himself very strongly. An ineffectual attempt was 
 made by Sir William Howe to draw him from his posi 
 tion, by marching towards Philadelphia; but after 
 Howe s return to New-York, he moved towards tho 
 Hudson, in order to defend the passes in the mountains, 
 in the expectation that a junction with Burgoyne, who 
 was then upon the lakes, would be attempted. After the 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 British general sailed from New- York, and entered the 
 Chesapeake, in August, Gen. Washington marched im 
 mediately for the defence of Philadelphia. On the llth 
 of September, he was defeated at Brandy wine, with the 
 loss of nine hundred in killed and wounded. A few days 
 afterward, as he was pursued, he turned upon the enemy, 
 determined upon another engagement; but a heavy rain 
 so damaged the arms and ammunition, that he was un 
 der the absolute necessity of again retreating. Phila 
 delphia was entered by Cornwallis on the twenty-sixth 
 of September. On the 4th of October, the American 
 commander made a well-planned attack upon the Brit 
 ish camp at Germantovvn ; but in consequence of the 
 darkness of the morning and the imperfect discipline of 
 his troops, it terminated in the loss of twelve hundred 
 men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners. In December, 
 he went into winter quarters at Valley Forge, on the 
 west side of the Schuylkill, between twenty and thirty 
 miles from Philadelphia. Here his army was in the 
 greatest distress for want of provisions, and he was re 
 duced to the necessity of sending out parties to seize 
 what they could find. About the same time a combi 
 nation, in which some members of Congress were enga 
 ged, was formed to remove the commander in chief, and 
 to appoint in his place Gates, whose successes of late 
 had given him a high reputation. But the name of 
 Washington was too dear to the great body of Ameri 
 cans, to admit of such a change. Notwithstanding the 
 discordant materials, of which his army was composed, 
 there was something in his character, which enabled him 
 to attach both his officers and soldiers so strongly to him. 
 that no distress could weaken their affection, nor impair 
 the veneration, in which he was generally held. With 
 out this attachment to him, the army must have been 
 dissolved. General Conway, who was concerned in this 
 faction, being \vounded in a duel with Gen. Cadvvallader, 
 and thinking his wound mortal, wrote to Gen. Washing 
 ton, You are, in my eyes, the great und good man. On 
 the 1st of February, 1778, there were about four thou 
 sand men in camp, unfit for duty for want of clothes. Of 
 these scarcely a man had a pair of shoes. The hospi- 
 
 S2 
 
330 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 tals also were filled with the sick. At this time, the 
 enemy, if they had marched out of their winter quarters, 
 would easily have dispersed the American army. The 
 apprehension of the approach of a French fleet inducing 
 the British to concentrate their forces, when they evacu 
 ated Philadelphia on the 17th of June, and marched to 
 wards New York, General Washington followed them. 
 Contrary to the advice of a council, he engaged in the 
 battle of Monmouth on the 28th; the result of which 
 made an impression favourable to the cause of America. 
 He slept in his cloak on the field of battle, intending to 
 renew the attack next morning; but at midnight the Brit 
 ish marched off in such silence, as not to be discovered. 
 Their loss in killed, was about three hundred ; and that 
 of the Americans sixty-nine. As the campaign now 
 closed in the middle states, the American army wont 
 into winter quarters, in the neighborhood of the High 
 lands upon the Hudson. Thus, after the vicissitudes of 
 two years/both armies were brought back to the point, 
 from which they set out. During the year 1779, Gen. 
 Washington remained in the neighbourhood of New- 
 York. In January 1780, in a winter memorable for its 
 severity, his utmost exertions were necessary to save the 
 army from dissolution. The soldiers, in general, submit 
 ted with heroic patience to the wants of provisions and 
 clothes. At one time, they ate every kind of horse-food 
 but hay. Their sufferings at length were so great, that in 
 March two of the Connecticut regiments mutined: but 
 the mutiny was suppressed, and the ringleaders secured. 
 In September, the treachery of Arnold was detected. In 
 the winter of 1781, such were again the privations of 
 the army, that a part of the Pennsylvania line revolted, 
 and marched home. Such, however, was still their pat 
 riotism, that they delivered up some British emissaries 
 to General Wayne, who hanged them as spies. Com 
 mitting the defence of the posts on the Hudson to Gen. 
 Heath, General Washington in August marched with 
 Count Rochambeau for the Chesapeake, to co-operate 
 with the French fleet there. The siege of Yorktmvn 
 commenced on the 28th of September, and on the 19th 
 of October, he reduced Cornwailis to the necessity of 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 331 
 
 surrendering, with upwards of seven thousand men, to 
 the combined armies of America and France. The day 
 after the capitulation, he ordered that those who were 
 under arrest should be pardoned, and that divine service,, 
 in acknowledgment of the interposition of Providence, 
 should be performed in all the brigades and divisions. 
 This event filled America with joy, and was the means, 
 of terminating the war. 
 
 Few events of importance took place in 1782. In 
 March, 1783, he exhibited his characteristic firmness 
 and decision, in opposing an attempt to produce a muti 
 ny, by anonymous letters. His address to his officers, 
 on the occasion, displays in a remarkable degree his 
 prudence, and the correctness of his judgment. When 
 he began to read it, he found himself in some degree em 
 barrassed, by the imperfection of his sight. Taking out 
 his spectacles, he said, These eyes, my friends, have 
 grown dim, and these locks white in the service of my 
 country; yet I have never doubted her justice. He only 
 could have repressed the spirit, which was breaking 
 forth. On the 19th of April, a cessation of hostilities 
 was proclaimed in the American camp. In June he ad 
 dressed a letter to the governors of the several states, 
 congratulating them on the result of the contest in the 
 establishment of independence, and recommending an 
 indissoluble union of the states, under one federal head, 
 a sacred regard to public justice, the adoption of a 
 proper peace establishment, and the prevalence of a 
 friendly disposition among the people of the several 
 states. It was with keen distress, as well as with pride 
 and admiration, that he saw his brave and veteran sol 
 diers, who had suffered so much, and who had borne the 
 heat and burden of the war, returning peaceably to their 
 homes, without a settlement of their accounts, or a far 
 thing of money in their pockets. On the 25th of No 
 vember, New-York was evacuated, and he entered it, 
 accompanied by Governor Clinton, and many respecta 
 ble citizens. On the 4th of December, he took his fare 
 well of his brave comrades in arms. At noon the prin 
 cipal officers of the army assembled at Frances s tav- 
 ernj,and their beloved commander soon entered the room. 
 
332 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling 
 a glass with wine, he turned to them and said, 4 With a 
 heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you ; 
 I most devoutly wish, that your latter days may be as 
 prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been 
 glorious and honorable. Having drunk, he added, fc I 
 cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall 
 be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take me 
 by the hand. General Knox, being nearest, turned to 
 him. Incapable of utterance, General Washington gras 
 ped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affec 
 tionate Hmnner. he took his leave of each succeeding 
 officer. In every eye was the tear of dignified sensibili 
 ty, and not a word was articulated, to interrupt the si 
 lence and the tenderness of the scene. Ye men, who 
 delight in blood, slaves of ambition! When your work 
 of carnage was finished, could ye thus part with your 
 companions in crime? Leaving the room, Gen. Wash 
 ington passed through the corps of light-infantry, and 
 walked to Whitehall, where a barge waited to carry 
 him to Powles Hook. The whole company followed in 
 mute procession, with dejected countenances. When 
 he entered the barge, he turned to them, and waiving his 
 hat, bade them a silent adieu ; receiving from them the 
 same last, affectionate compliment. On the 23d of De 
 cember, he resigned his commission to congress, then as 
 sembled at Annapolis. He delivered a short address 
 on the occasion, in which he said, ; I consider it an in 
 dispensable duty, to close this last solemn act of my of 
 ficial life, by commending the interests of our dearest 
 country to the protection of Almighty God, and those 
 who have superintendence of them, to his holy keeping." 
 He then retired to Mount Vernon, to enjoy again the 
 pleasure of domestic life. Here the expressions of the 
 gratitude of his countrymen, in affectionate addresses, 
 poured in upon him, and he received every testimony of 
 respect and veneration. 
 
 In his retirement, however, he could not overlook the 
 public interests. He was desirous of opening, by water 
 carriage, a communication between the Atlantic and the 
 western portions of our country, in order to prevent the 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 323 
 
 diversion of trade down the Mississippi, and to Canada; 
 from which he predicted consequences injurious to the 
 union. Through his influence, two companies were for 
 med for promoting inland navigation. The legislature 
 of Virginia presented him with three hundred shares in 
 them, which he appropriated to public uses. In the year 
 1786, he was convinced, with other statesmen, of the 
 necessity of substituting a more vigorous general govern 
 ment in the place of the impotent articles of confedera 
 tion. Still he was aware of the danger of running from 
 one extreme to another. He exclaims in a letter to Mr. 
 Jay, What astonishing changes a few years are capa 
 ble of producing! I am told, that even respectable char 
 acters speak of a mocarchial form of government with 
 out horror. From thinking proceeds speaking ; thence to 
 acting is often but a single step. But how irrevocable, 
 and tremendous! What a triumph for our enemies to 
 verify their predictions! What a triumph for the advo 
 cates of despotism, to find that we are incapable of gov 
 erning ourselves, and that systems, founded on the basis 
 of equal liberty, are merely ideal and fallacious! In the 
 following year, he was persuaded to take a seat in the 
 convention, which formed the present constitution of the 
 United States; arid he presided in that body. In 1789, 
 he was unanimously elected the first president of the 
 United States. It was with great reluctance, that he 
 accepted this office. His feelings, as he said himself, 
 were like those of a culprit, going to the place of execu 
 tion. But the voice of a whole continent, the pressing 
 recommendation of his particular friends, and the appre 
 hension, that he should otherwise be considered as un 
 willing to hazard his reputation in executing a system, 
 which he had assisted in forming, determined him to ac 
 cept the appointment. In April he left Mount Vernon 
 to proceed to New-York, and to enter on the duties of 
 his high office. He every where received testimonies 
 of respect and love. At Trenton, the gentler sex re 
 warded him for his successful enterprise, and the pro 
 tection which he afforded them twelve years before. On 
 the bridge over the creek, which passes through the 
 town, was erected a triumphal arch, ornamented with 
 
334 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 laurels and flowers, and supported by thirteen pillars, 
 each encircled with wreaths of evergreen. On the front 
 of the arch was inscribed in large gilt letters, 
 
 THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS WILL 
 
 3E THE PROTECTOR OF THE 
 
 DAUGHTERS. 
 
 At this place he was met by a party of matrons, leading 
 their daughters, who were dressed in white, and who 
 with baskets of flowers in their hands, sung with exquis 
 ite sweetness the following ode, written for the occasion; 
 
 Welcome, mighty chief, once more 
 Welcome to this grateful shore; 
 Now no mercenary foe 
 Aims again the fatal blow, 
 Aims at THEE the fatal blow. 
 
 Virgins fair and matrons grave, 
 Those thy conquering arms did save, 
 Build for thee triumphal bowers; 
 Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers, 
 Strew yours heroe s way with flowers. 
 
 At the last line the flowers were strewed before him. 
 after receiving such proofs of affectionate attachment, 
 he arrived at New York, and was inaugurated first 
 President of the United States on the thirteenth of 
 April. In making the necessary arrangements of his 
 houshold he publicly announced, that neither visits of 
 business nor of ceremony would be expected on Sun 
 day, as he wished to reserve that day sacredly to him 
 self. 
 
 At the close of his first term of four years, he pre 
 pared a valedictory address to the American people, 
 anxious to return again to the scenes of domestic life; 
 but the earnest entreaties of his friends, and the peculiar 
 situation of his country, induced him to be a candidate 
 for a second election. During his administration of 
 eight years, the labour of establishing the different de 
 partments of a new government was accomplished ; and 
 he exhibited the greatest firmness, wisdom, and inde 
 pendence. He was an American, and he chose not to 
 involve his country in the contests of Europe. He ac- 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 333 
 
 Gordingly, with the unanimous advice of his cabinet, 
 consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox, and 
 Randolph, issued a proclamation of neutrality, April 
 22, 1793, a few days after he heard of the commence 
 ment of the war between England and France. This 
 measure contributed, in a great degree, to the prosperity 
 of America. Its adoption was the more honourable to 
 the president, as the general sympathy was in favour 
 of the sister republic, against whom it was said Great 
 Britain had commenced the war for the sole purpose of 
 imposing upon her a monarchial form of government. 
 He preferred the peace and welfare of his country to 
 the breath of popular applause. Another act, in which 
 he proved himself to be less regardful of the public par 
 tialities and prejudices, than of what he conceived to 
 be the public good, was the ratification of the British 
 treaty. The English government had neglected to sur 
 render the western posts, and by commercial restrictions, 
 and in other ways, had evinced a hostile spirit towards 
 this country. To avert the calamity of another war, 
 Mr. Jay was nominated as envoy extraordinary in 
 April, 1794. In June, 1795, the treaty, which Mr. Jay 
 had made, was submitted to the senate, and was ratified 
 by that body on the condition, that on-e article should be 
 altered. While the president was deliberating upon it, 
 an incorrect copy of the instrument was made public by 
 a senator, and the whole country was thrown into a 
 state of extreme irritation. At this period, he, in Au 
 gust, conditionally ratified it, and in February, 1706, 
 when it was returned from his Britannic Majesty with 
 the proposed alteration, he declared it to be the law of 
 the land. After this transaction the house of represen 
 tatives requested him to lay before them the papers 
 relating to the treaty, but he, with great independence 
 refused to comply with their request, as they could have 
 no claim to an inspection of them except upon a vote of 
 impeachment, and as a compliance would establish a 
 dangerous precedent. He had before this shown a dis 
 position to maintain the authority, vested in his office, 
 by declining to affix ins signature to a bill which had 
 passed both houses. 
 
330 GEORGE WASHlN ? GTOrs. 
 
 As the period for a new election of a President of the 
 United States approached, and after plain indications 
 that the public voice would be in his favour, and when 
 he probably would be chosen for the third time unani 
 mously, he determined irrevocably to withdraw to the 
 shades of private life. He published, in September, 
 1796, his farewell address to the people of the United 
 States, which ought to be engraven upon the hearts of 
 his countrymen. In the most earnest and affectionate 
 manner he called upon them to cherish an immoveable 
 attachment to the national union, to watch for its pres 
 ervation with jealous anxiety, to discountenance even 
 the suggestion, that it could in any event be abandoned, 
 and indignantly to frown upon the first dawning of every 
 attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the 
 rest. Overgrown military establishments he represent 
 ed as particularly hostile to republican liberty. While 
 he recommended the most implicit obedience to the acts 
 of the established government, and reprobated all ob 
 structions to the execution of the laws, all combinations 
 and associations, under whatever plausible character, 
 with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe 
 the regular deliberation and action of the constituted 
 authorities; he wished also to guard against the spirit 
 of innovation upon the principles of the constitution. 
 Aware that the energy of the system might be enfee 
 bled by alterations, he thought that no change should be 
 made without an evident necessity, and that in so ex 
 tensive a country as much vigour as is consistent with 
 liberty is indispensable. On the other hand, he pointed 
 out the danger of a real despotism by breaking down 
 the partitions between the several departments of gov 
 ernment, by destroying the reciprocal checks, and con 
 solidating the different powers. Against the spirit of 
 party, so particularly baneful in an elective government, 
 he uttered his most solemn remonstrances, as well as 
 against inveterate antipathies or passionate attach 
 ments in respect to foreign nations. While he thought 
 that the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly 
 and impartially awake against the insidious wiles of 
 foreign influence, he wished that good faith and justice 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 337 
 
 should he observed towards all nations, and peace and 
 harmony cultivated. In his opinion, honesty, no less in 
 public than in private affairs, is always the best policy. 
 Providence, he believed, had connected the permanent 
 felicity of a nation with its virtue. Other subjects, to 
 which he alluded, were the importance of credit, of 
 economy, of a reduction of the public debt, and of liter 
 ary institutions: above all he recommended religion and 
 morality as indispensably necessary to political prosper 
 ity. "In vain," says he, "would that man claim the 
 tribute of patriotism, who should labour to subvert these 
 great pillars of human happiness, these lirmest props of 
 the duties of men and citizens." Bequeathing these 
 counsels to his countrymen, he continued in office till the 
 fourth of March, 1797, when he attended the inaugura 
 tion of his successor, Mr. Adams, and with complacency 
 saw him invested with the powers, which had for so 
 long a time been exercised by himself. He then retired 
 to Mount Vernon, giving to the world an example, most 
 humiliating to its emperors and kings; the example of a 
 man voluntarily disrobing himself of the highest author 
 ity, and returning to private life with a character, having 
 upon it no stain of ambition, of covetousness, of profu 
 sion, of luxury, of oppression, or of injustice. 
 
 It was now that the soldier, the statesman and the 
 patriot, hoped to repose himself, after the toils of so 
 many years. But he had not been long in retirement, 
 before the outrages of Republican France induced our 
 government to raise an army, of which, in July, 1798, he 
 was appointed Commander in chief. Though he ac 
 cepted the appointment, his services were not demand 
 ed, and he himself did not believe that an invasion 
 would take place. Pacific overtures were soon made 
 by the French Directory; but he did not live to see the 
 restoration of peace. On Friday, December 13, 1799, 
 while attending to some improvements upon his estate, 
 he was exposed to a light rain, which wetted his neck 
 and hair. Unapprehensive of danger, he passed the 
 afternoon in his usual manner ; but at night he was seized 
 with an inflammatory affection of the windpipe. The 
 disease commenced with a violent ague, accompanied 
 
 T2 
 
338 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 with some pain, and a sense of stricture in the throat, a 
 cough, and a difficult deglutition; which were soon suc 
 ceeded by fever, and a quick and laborious respiration. 
 About twelve or fourteen ounces of blood were taken 
 from him. In the morning his family physician, Doctor 
 Craik, was sent for; but the utmost exertions of medical 
 skill were applied in vain. The appointed time of his 
 death was near. Believing from the commencement of 
 his complaint that it would be mortal, a few hours before 
 his departure, after repeated efforts to be understood, 
 he succeeded in expressing a desire that he might be 
 permitted to die, without beh g disquieted by unavailing 
 attempts to rescue .him from his fate. After it became 
 impossible to get any thing down his throat, he undress 
 ed himself and went to bed, there to die. To his friend 
 and physician, who sat on his bed, and took his head in 
 his lap, he said with difficulty, Doctor, I am dying, and 
 have been dying for a long time ; but 1 am not afraid to 
 die. Respiration became more and more contracted 
 and imperfect, until half past eleven on Saturday night, 
 when, retaining the full possession of his intellect he 
 expired without a struggle. Thus, on the fourteenth of 
 December, 1799, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, 
 died the father of his country, The man, first in war, 
 first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-cit 
 izens. This event spread a gloom over the country; 
 and the tears of America proclaimed the services and 
 virtures of the hero and sage, and exhibited a people 
 not insensible to his worth. The senate of the United 
 States, in an address to the president on this. melancholy 
 occasion, indulged their patriotic pride, while they did 
 not transgress the bounds of truth, in speaking of their 
 WASHINGTON. Ancient and modern names, said 
 they, are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt 
 have too often been allied; but his fame is whiter than 
 it is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood abashed 
 at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intemper 
 ance of their ambition, and darkened the splendour of 
 victory. The scene is closed, and we are no longer anx 
 ious lest misfortune should sully his glory; he has trav 
 elled on to the end of his journey, and carried with him 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 339 
 
 an increasing weight of honour; he has deposited it safely 
 where misfortune cannot tarnish it, where malice cannot 
 blast it. 
 
 Gen. Washington was rather above the common stat 
 ure; his frame was robust, and his constitution vigor 
 ous. His exterior created .in the beholder the idea of 
 strength united with manly gracefulness. His eyes were 
 of a gray colour, and his complexion light. His man 
 ners were rather reserved than free. His person and 
 whole deportment exhibited an unaffected and indescri 
 bable dignity, unrningled with haughtiness, of which all 
 who approached him, were sensible. The attachment 
 of those, who possessed his friendship was ardent but 
 always respectful. His temper was humane, benevolent, 
 and conciliatory; but there was a quickness in his sensi 
 bility to any thing apparently offensive, which experi 
 ence had taught him to watch and correct. He made 
 MO pretensions to vivacity or wit. Judgment rather than 
 genius constituted the most prominent feature of his 
 character. As a military man he was brave, enterpri 
 sing, and cautious. At the head of a multitude, whom 
 it was sometimes impossible to reduce to proper disci 
 pline before the expiration of their time of service, and 
 having to struggle almost continually with the want of 
 supplies, he yet was able to contend with an adversary- 
 superior in numbers, well disciplined, and completely 
 equipped, and was the means of saving his country. The 
 measure of his caution has by some been represented as 
 too abundant ; but he sometimes formed a plan which his 
 brave officers thought was too adventurous, and some 
 times contrary to their advice he engaged in battle. 
 If his name is not rendered illustrious by splendid 
 achievements, it is not to be attributed to the want of 
 military enterprise. He conducted the war with that 
 consummate prudence and wisdom, which the situation, 
 of his country and the state of his array demanded. He 
 also possessed a firmrfess of resolution, which neither 
 dangers nor difficulties could shake. In his civil ad 
 ministration he exhibited repeated proofs of that prac 
 tical good sense, of that sound judgment which is the 
 most valuable quality of the human mind. More than 
 
1540 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 once lie put his whole popularity to hazard in pursuing 
 measures, which were dictated by a sense of duty, and 
 which he thought would promote the welfare of his 
 country. In speculation he was a real republican, sin 
 cerely attached to the constitution of the United States, 
 and to that system of equal, political rights, on which it 
 is founded. Real liberty, he thought, was to be pre 
 served only by preserving the authority of the laws, and 
 maintaining the energy of government. Of incorrupti 
 ble integrity, his ends were always upright, and the 
 means, which he employed, were always pure. He was 
 a politician, to whom wiles were absolutely unknown. 
 When any measure of importance was proposed, he 
 sought information, and was ready to hear without pre 
 judice, whatever could be said in relation to the subject; 
 lie suspended his judgment till it was necessary to de 
 cide: but after his decision had been thus deliberately 
 made it was seldom shaken, and he was as active and 
 persevering in executing, as he had been cool in forming 
 it. He possessed an innate and unassuming modesty, 
 which adulation would have offended, which the plau 
 dits of millions could not betray into indiscretion, and 
 which was blended with a high sense of personal digni 
 ty and a just consciousness of the respect which is due 
 to station. 
 
 With regard to the religious character of General 
 Washington, there have been different opinions. In the 
 extracts from some of his letters, which have been pub 
 lished by the historian of his life, the name of the Su 
 preme Being is once or twice introduced in a manner, 
 which, in common conversation is deemed irreverent. 
 It is also understood, that in a few instances during the 
 war, particularly when he met General Lee retreating 
 in the battle of Monmouth, his language was unguared 
 in this respect. It may not be impossible, that a good 
 man in a moment of extreme irritation should utter, a 
 profane expression ; but perhaps it is less possible, that 
 such a man, when his passion has passed shvay, and his 
 sober recollections have returned, should not repent bit 
 terly of his irreverence to the name of God. On the 
 ther hand. General Washington, when at the head of 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON, 341 
 
 the army, issued public orders, calling upon his officers 
 to discountenance the habit of profanity; he speaks in 
 his writing of "the pure and benign light of revelation," 
 and of the necessity of imitating "the charity, humility, 
 and pacific temper of mind, which were the characteris 
 tics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion;" he 
 gratefully acknowledged the interpositions of Providence 
 in favour of this country; his life was upright and virtu 
 ous; he principally supported an episcopal church in the 
 neighbourhood of Mount Vernon, where he constantly 
 attended public worship; during the war he not unfre- 
 quently rode ten or twelve miles from camp for the ben 
 efit of the institutions of religion; and it is believed, 
 that he every day had his hour of retirement from the 
 world for the purpose of private devotion. 
 
 Gen. Washington was blessed with abundant wealth, 
 and he was not ignorant of the pleasure of employing it 
 for generous purposes. His style of living was dignifi 
 ed, though he maintained the strictest economy. While 
 he was in the army he wrote to the superintendent of 
 his estate in the following terms, "Let the hospitality of 
 the house be kept up with regard to the poor. Let no 
 one go hungry away. If any of this sort of people should 
 be in want of corn, supply their necessities, provided it 
 does not encourage them in idleness. I have no objec 
 tion to your giving my money in charity, when you think 
 it will be well bestowed ; I mean, that it is my desire, 
 that it shotild be done. You are to consider, that neither 
 myself nor my wife are in the way to do these good offi 
 ces." Thus was he beneficent, while at the same time 
 he required an exact compliance with engagements. A 
 pleasing proof of the generous spirit which governed 
 him, is exhibited in his conduct towards the son of his 
 friend the Marquis de La Fayette. The Marquis, after 
 fighting in this country for American liberty, had re 
 turned to France; but in the convulsions of the French 
 revolution he was exiled and imprisoned in Germany. 
 General Washington gave evidence of sincere attach 
 ment to the unhappy nobleman not only by exerting all 
 his influence to procure his release from confinement, but 
 by extending his patronage to his son, who made his 
 
342 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 escape from France, and arrived with his tutor at Bos 
 ton, in 1795. As soon as he was informed of his arri 
 val, he wrote to a friend, requesting him to visit the 
 young gentleman and make him acquainted with the re 
 lations between this country and France, which would 
 prevent the president of the United States from publicly 
 espousing his interest, but to assure him of his protection 
 and support. He also directed his friend to draw upon 
 him for moneys to defray all the expenses, which young 
 La Fayette might incur. Towards his slaves General 
 Washington manifested the greatest care and kindness. 
 Their servitude lay with weight upon his mind, and he 
 directed in his will, that they should be emancipated on 
 the decease of his wife. There were insuperable diffi 
 culties in the way of their receiving freedom previously 
 to this event. On the death of Mrs. Washington, May 
 22d, 1802, the estate of G^ 4 n. Washington, as he had no 
 children, was divided according to his will among his 
 and her relations. It amounted by his own estimate to 
 more than five hundred thousand dollars."* 
 
 ANTHONY WAYNE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 "ANTHONY WAYNE, a major general in the American 
 army, occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes 
 and patriots of the American revolution. He was born 
 in the year 1745, in Chester county, in the*state, then 
 colony, of Pennsylvania. His father, who was a respec 
 table farmer, WHS many years a representative for the 
 county of Chester, in the general assembly, before the 
 revolution. His grandfather, who was distinguished for 
 his attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a cap 
 tain s commission under King William, at the battle of 
 the Boyne. Anthony Wayne succeeded his father as 
 representative for the county of Chester, in the year 
 1773; and from his first appearance in public life, dis 
 tinguished himself as a firm and decided patriot. He 
 opposed, with much ability, the unjust demands of the. 
 
 ^Allen s Biog. Dictionary. 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 343 
 
 mother country, and in connexion with some gentlemen 
 of distinguished talents, was of material service in pre 
 paring the way for the firm and decisive part which 
 Pennsylvania took in the general contest. 
 
 In 1775, he was appointed to the command of a regi 
 ment, which his character enabled him to raise in a few 
 weeks, in his native county. In the same year, he was 
 detached under General Thompson into Canada. In the 
 defeat which followed, in which Gen. Thompson was 
 made a prisoner, Col. Wayne, though wounded, display 
 ed great gallantry and good conduct, in collecting and 
 bringing off the scattered and broken bodies of troops. 
 
 In the campaign of 1776, he served under Gen. Gates, 
 at Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed by that offi 
 cer for both his bravery and skill as an engineer. At 
 the close of that campaign he was created a brigadier 
 general. 
 
 At the battle of Brandywine, he behaved with his 
 usual bravery, and for a long time opposed the progress 
 of the enemy at Chad s Ford. In this action, the inferi 
 ority of the Americans in numbers, discipline, and arms, 
 gave them little chance of success; but the peculiar 
 situation of the public mind was supposed to require a 
 battle to be risked: the ground was bravely disputed, 
 and the action was not considered as decisive. The 
 spirit of the troops was preserved by a belief that the 
 loss of the enemy had equalled their own. As it was 
 the intention of the American commander in chief to 
 hazard another action on the first favourable opportu 
 nity that should offer, Gen. Wayne was detached with 
 his division, to harass the enemy by every means in his 
 power. The British troops were encamped at Tre- 
 dyffrin, and General Wayne was stationed about three 
 miles in the rear of their left wing, near the Paoli tav 
 ern, and from the precautions he had taken, he consid 
 ered himself secure, but about eleven o clock, on the 
 night of the 20th September, Major General Gray, hav 
 ing driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked him with fix 
 ed bayonets. Wayne, unable to withstand the superior 
 number of assailants, was obliged to retreat ; but formed 
 again at a small distance, having lost about one hun- 
 
344 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 dred and fifty killed and wounded. As blame was at 
 tached by some of the officers of the army, to General 
 Wayne, for allowing himself to be surprised in this man 
 ner, he demanded a court martial, which, after exam 
 ining the necessary evidence, declared that he had done 
 every thing to be expected from an active, brave, and 
 vigilant officer; and acquitted him with honour. 
 
 A neat marble monument has been recently erected 
 on the battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men 
 who fell on the night of the 20th September. 1777. 
 
 Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown, 
 in which he greatly signalized himself, by his spirited 
 manner of leading his men into action. In this action, 
 he had one horse shot under him, and another as he was 
 mounting; and at the same instant, received slight 
 wounds in the left foot and left hand. 
 
 In all councils of war,Gen. Wayne was distinguished 
 for supporting the most energetic and decisive measures. 
 In the one previous to the battle of Monmouth, he and 
 Gen. Cadwallader were the only officers decidedly in 
 favour of attacking the British army. The American 
 officers are said to have been influenced by the opinions 
 of the Europeans. The Baron De Steuben, and Gene 
 rals Lee and Dii Portail, whose military skill was in 
 high estimation, had warmly opposed an engagement, as 
 too hazardous. But General Washington, whose opin 
 ion was in favour of an engagement, made such disposi 
 tion as would be most likely to lead to it. In that ac 
 tion, so honourable to the American arms, Gen. Wayne 
 was conspicuous in the ardour of his attack. General 
 Washington, in his letter to congress, observes, Were I 
 to conclude my account of this day s transactions with 
 out expressing my obligations to the officers of the army 
 in general, I should do injustice to their merit, and vio 
 lence to my own feelings. They seemed to vie with 
 each other in manifesting their zeal and bravery. The 
 catalogue of those who distinguished themselves, is too 
 long to admit of particularizing individuals. I cannot, 
 however, forbear mentioning Brig. Gen. Wayne, whose 
 good conduct and bravery, throughout the whole action, 
 deserves particular commendation." 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 345 
 
 "Among the many exploits of gallantry and prowess 
 which shed a lustre on the fame of our revolutionary 
 army, the storming of the fort at Stony-Point has always 
 been considered one of the most brilliant. 
 
 "To Gen. Wayne, who commanded the light-infantry 
 of the army, the execution of the plan was intrusted. 
 Secrecy was deemed so much more essential to success 
 than numbers, that it was thought unadvisable to add to 
 the foice already on the lines. One brigade was order 
 ed to commence its march, so as to reach the scene of 
 action in time to cover the troops engaged in the attack, 
 in case of any unlocked for disaster; and Major Lee, of 
 the light-dragoons, who had been eminently useful in ob 
 taining the intelligence which led to the enterprise, was 
 associated with General Wayne, as far as cavalry could 
 be employed in such a service. 
 
 The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was fixed on for 
 the assault; and it being suspected that the garrison 
 would probably be more on their guard towards day, 
 twelve was chosen for the hour. 
 
 Stony-Point is a commanding hill, projecting far into 
 the Hudson, which washes three fourths of its base ; the 
 remaining fourth is in a great measure, covered by a 
 deep marsh, commencing near the river on the upper 
 side, and continuing into it below. Over this marsh, 
 there is only one crossing place. But at its junction with 
 the river is a sandy beach passable at low tide. On the 
 summit of this hill was erected the fort, which was fur 
 nished with a sufficient number of heavy pieces of ord 
 nance. Several breastworks and strung batteries were 
 advanced in front of the principal work, and about half 
 way down the hill, were two rows of abattis. The 
 batteries were calculated to command the beach, and 
 the crossing place of the marsh, and to rake and enfi 
 lade any column which might be advancing from either 
 of those points towards the fort. In addition to these, 
 defences, several vessels of war were stationed IB the 
 river, so as, in a considerable degree, to command the 
 ground at the foot of the hill. 
 
 The fort was garrisoned by about six hundred men, 
 under the command of lieutenant colonelJohnson. 
 
 U2 
 
346 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 At noon of the day preceding the night of the at 
 tack, the light infantry commenced their march from 
 Sandy beach, distant fourteen miles from Stony Point, 
 and passing through an excessively rugged and moun 
 tainous country, arrived about eight in the afternoon at 
 Spring Steel s, one and a half miles from the fort, w-here 
 the dispositions for the assault were made. 
 
 It was intended to attack the works on the right and 
 left flanks at the same instant. The regiment of Febi- 
 ger, and of Meiggs, with Maj. Hull s detachment, formed 
 the right column, and Butler s regiment, with two com 
 panies under major Murfree, formed the left. One hun 
 dred and fifty volunteers, led by lieutenant-colonel Fleu- 
 ry and major Posey, constituted the van of the right; 
 and one hundred volunteers under Major Stuart, compo 
 sed the van of the left. At half past eleven, the two 
 columns moved on to the charge, the van of each with 
 unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. They were each 
 preceded by a forlorn hope of twenty men, the one com 
 manded by lieutenant Gibbon, and the other by Lieut. 
 Knox, whose duty it was to remove the abattis and 
 other obstructions, in order to open a passage for the 
 columns which followed close in the rear. 
 
 Proper measures having been taken to secure every 
 individual on the route, who could give intelligence of 
 their approach, the Americans reached the marsh undis 
 covered. But unexpected difficulties having been ex 
 perienced in surmounting this and other obstructions in 
 the way, the assault did not commence until twenty min 
 utes after twelve. Both columns then rushed forward, 
 under a tremendous fire of musketry and grape shot. 
 Surmounting every obstacle, they entered the works at 
 the point of the bayonet, and without having discharged 
 a single piece, obtained complete possession of the post. 
 
 The humanity displayed by the conquerors was not 
 less conspicuous, nor less honourable, than their courage. 
 Not a single individual suffered after resistance had 
 ceased. 
 
 All the troops engaged in this perilous service mani 
 fested a dc^rcf of ardour and impetuosity, which proved 
 til cm to be capable of the most difficult enterprises j and 
 
K:VLI: V w 
 
 o , v i-; v r D i . 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 347 
 
 all distinguished themselves whose situation enabled 
 them to do so. Colonel Fleury was the first to enter the 
 fort, and strike the British standard. Major Posey 
 mounted the works almost at the same instant, and was 
 the first to give the watch-word u The fort s our own." 
 Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox performed the service al 
 lotted to them, with a degree of intrepidity which could 
 not be surpassed. Out of twenty men who constituted 
 the party of the former,seventeen were killed or wounded. 
 
 The loss sustained by the garrison was not considera 
 ble. The return made by lieutenant-colonel Johnson, 
 represented their dead at only twenty, including one 
 captain, and their wounded at six officers, and sixty 
 eight privates. The return made by Gen. Wayne states 
 their dead at sixty-three, including two officers. This 
 difference may be accounted for, by supposing, that 
 among those colonel Johnson supposed to be missing, 
 there were many killed. The prisoners amounted to 
 five hundred and forty-three, among whom were one 
 lieutenant-colonel, four captains, and twenty subaltern 
 officers. The military stores taken in the fort were also 
 considerable. 
 
 The loss sustained by the assailants was by no means 
 proportioned to the apparent danger of the enterprise. 
 The killed and wounded did not exceed one hundred 
 men. Gen. Wayne himself who marched at the head 
 of Febigers regiment in the right column, received a 
 slight wound in the head, which stunned him for a time, 
 but did not compel him to leave the column. Being sup 
 ported by his aids, he entered the fort with the regi 
 ment. Lieutenant-colonel Hay was also among the 
 wounded. * 
 
 The intrepidity, joined with humanity, its noblest 
 companion, displayed on that occasion, by Gen. Wayne 
 and his brave followers, cannot be too highly esteemed 
 nor too frequently commemorated. 
 
 ^Marshall s life of Washington. 
 
348 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 General orders for the attack. 
 
 The troops will march at o clock, and move by 
 
 the right, making a halt at the creek, or run, on this side, 
 next Clement s; every officer and non-commissioned 
 officer will remain with, and be answerable for every 
 man in his platoon; no soldier to be permitted to quit 
 his ranks on any pretext whatever, until a general halt 
 is made, and then to be attended by one of the officers 
 of the platoon. 
 
 When the head of the troops arrive in the rear of the 
 hill, colonel Febiger will form his regiment into a solid 
 column of a half platoon in front as fast as they come 
 up. Col. Meiggs will form next in Col. Febiger s rear, 
 and major Hull in the rear of Meigg s, which will form 
 the right column. 
 
 Col. Butler will form a column on the left of Febiger, 
 and major Murphy in his rear. Every officer and soldier 
 will then fix a piece of white paper in the most con 
 spicuous part of his hat or cap, as a mark to distinguish 
 them from the enemy. 
 
 At the word march colonel Fleury will take charge of 
 one hundred and fifty determined and picked men, prop 
 erly officered, with arms unloaded, placing their whole 
 dependence on fixed bayonets, who will move about 
 twenty paces in front of the right column, and enter the 
 sally-port; he is to detach an officer and twenty men a 
 little in front, whose business will be to secure the sen 
 tries, and remove the abattis and obstructions for the 
 column to pass through. The column will follow close 
 in the rear with shouldered muskets, led by Col. Febiger 
 and General Wayne in person: when the works are 
 forced, and not before, the victorious troops as they enter 
 
 will give the watch-word with repeated and 
 
 loud voices, and drive the enemy from their works and 
 guns, which will favour the pass of the whole troops; 
 should the enemy refuse to surrender, or attempt to make 
 their escape by water or otherwise, effectual means 
 must be used to effect the former and prevent the latter. 
 
 Col. Butler will move by the route (2,) preceded by 
 one hundred chosen men with fixed bayonets, properly 
 officered, at the distance of twenty yards in front of the 
 column, which will follow under Col. JButler with shouj- 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 349 
 
 dered muskets. These hundred will also detach a 
 proper of^cer and twenty men a little in front to remove 
 the obstructions; as soon as they gain the works they 
 will also give and continue the watch-word, which will 
 prevent confusion and mistake. 
 
 If any soldier presume to take his musket from his 
 shoulder, or to fire, or begin the battle until ordered by 
 his proper officer, he shall be instantly put to death by 
 the officer next him; for the misconduct of one man is 
 not to put the whole troops in danger or disorder, and he 
 be suffered to pass with life. 
 
 After the troops begin to advance to the works, the 
 strictest silence must be observed, and the closest at 
 tention paid to the commands of the officers. 
 
 The general has the fullest confidence in the bravery 
 and fortitude of the corps that he has the happiness to 
 command the distinguished honour conferred on every 
 officer and soldier who has been drafted into this corps 
 by his excellency Gen. Washington, the credit of the 
 states they respectively belong to, and their own reputa 
 tions, will be such powerful motives for each man to dis 
 tinguish himself, that the general cannot have the least 
 doubt of a glorious victory; and he hereby most solemn 
 ly engages to reward the first man that enters the works 
 with five hundred dollars, and immediate promotion, to 
 the second four hundred dollars, to the third three hun 
 dred dollars, to the fourth two hundred dollars, and to 
 the fifth one hundred dollars ; and will represent the con 
 duct of every officer and soldier, who distinguishes him 
 self in this action, in the most favourable point of view 
 to his excellency, whose greatest pleasure is in reward 
 ing merit. 
 
 But should there be any soldier so lost to every feel 
 ing of honour, as to attempt to retreat one single foot, or 
 skulk in the face of danger, the officer next to him is 
 immediately to put him to death, that he may no longer 
 disgrace the name of a soldier, or the corps or state he 
 belongs to. 
 
 As general Wayne is determined to share the danger 
 of the night so he wishes to participate in the glory of 
 the day in common with his fellow soldiers." 
 
350 ANTHONY WAYNB, 
 
 "Immediately after the surrender of Stony Point, Gen 
 Wayne transmitted to the Commander in chief, the fol 
 lowing laconic letter: 
 
 "Stony Point, July 16, 1779. 
 
 "2 o clock, A. M. 
 
 "Dear General The fort and garrison, with Colonel 
 Johnson, are ours; our officers and men behaved like 
 men determined to be free. 
 
 "Yours most sincerely, 
 
 "ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 "Gen. Washington." 
 
 In the campaign of 1781. in which Lord Cornwallis, 
 and a British army were obliged to surrender prisoners 
 of war,, he bore a conspicuous part. His presence of 
 mind never failed him in the most critical situations 
 Of this he gave an eminent example on the James river. 
 Having been deceived by some false information, into a 
 belief that the British army had passed the river, leav 
 ing but the rearguard behind, he hastened to attack the 
 latter before it should also have effected its passage; 
 but on pushing through a morass and wood, instead of 
 the rear-guard he found the whole British army drawn 
 up close to him. His situation did not admit of a mo 
 ment s deliberation. Conceiving the boldest to be the 
 safest measure, he immediately led his small detach 
 ment, not exceeding 800 men, to the charge, and after a 
 short, but very smart and close firiog, in which he lost 
 118 of his men, he succeeded in bringing off the rest 
 under cover of the wood. Lord Cornwallis, suspecting 
 the attack to be a feint, in order to draw him into an 
 ambuscade, would not permit his troops to pursue. 
 
 The enemy having made a considerable head in 
 Georgia, Wayne was despatched by Gen. Washington 
 to take command of the forces in that state, and, after 
 some sanguinary engagements succeeded in establishing 
 security and order. For his services in that state the 
 legislature presented him with a valuable farm. 
 
 On the peace, which followed shortly after, he retired 
 to private life; but in 1789, we find him a member of 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE* 351 
 
 the Pennsylvania convention, and one of those in favour 
 of the present federal constitution of the United States. 
 
 In the year 1792, he was appointed to succeed Gen. 
 St. Clair, who had resigned the command of the army 
 engaged against the Indians on our western frontier. 
 Wayne formed an encampment at Pittsburgh, and such 
 exemplary discipline was introduced among the new 
 troops, that, on their advance into the Indian country, 
 they appeared like veterans. 
 
 The Indians had collected in great nurnhers, and it 
 was necessary not only to route them, hut to occupy 
 their country by a chain of posts, that should, for the 
 future, check their predatory incursions. Pursuing this 
 regular and systematic mode of advance, the autumn of 
 1793, found General Wayne with his army, at a post in 
 the wilderness, called Greensville, about six miles in ad 
 vance of Fort Jefferson, where he determined to encamp 
 for the winter, in order to make the necessary arrange 
 ments for opening the campaign to effect early in the 
 following spring. After fortifying his camp, he took pos 
 session of the ground on which the Americans had been 
 defeated in 1791, which he fortified also, and called the 
 work Fort Recovery. Here he piously collected, and, 
 with the honours of war, interred the bones of the un 
 fortunate although gallant victims of the 4th November, 
 1791. The situation of the army, menacing the Indi 
 an villages, effectually prevented any attack on the 
 white settlements. The impossibility of procuring the 
 necessary supplies prevented the march of the troops 
 till the summer. On the 8th of August, the army arri 
 ved at the junction of the rivers Au Glaize and Miami of 
 the lakes, where they erected works for the protection 
 of the stores. About thirty miles from this place the 
 British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which the 
 Indians had assembled their whole force. On the 15th 
 the army again advanced down the Miami, and on the 
 18th, arrived at the Rapids. On the following day they 
 erected some works, for the protection of the baggage. 
 The situation of the enemy was reconnoitered, and they 
 were found posted in a thick wood, in the rear of the 
 British fort. On the 20th, the army advanced to the 
 
352 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 attack. The Miami covered the right flank, and on 
 the left were the mounted volunteers, commanded by 
 General Todd. After marching about five miles, Major 
 Price, who led the advance, received so heavy afire 
 from the Indians, who were stationed behind trees, that 
 he was compelled to fall back. The enemy had occupied 
 a wood in the front of the British fort, which, from the 
 quantity of fallen timber, could not be entered by the 
 horse. The legion was immediately ordered to advance 
 with trailed arms, and rouse them from their covert: 
 the cavalry under Capt. Campbell, were directed to pass 
 between the Indians and the river, while the volunteers, 
 led by Gen. Scott, made a circuit to turn their flank. So 
 rapid, however, was the charge of the legion, that be 
 fore the rest of the army could get into action, the ene 
 my were completely routed, and driven through the 
 woods for more than two miles, and the troops halted 
 within gun-shot of the British fort. All the Indians 
 houses and conrfields were destroyed. In this decisive 
 action, the whole loss of General Wayne s army, in 
 killed and wounded, amounted only to one hundred and 
 seven men. As hostilities continued on the part of the 
 Indians, their whole country was laid waste, and forts 
 established, which effectually prevented their return. 
 
 The success of this engagement destroyed the ene 
 mies power; and, in the following year, General Wayne 
 concluded a definite treaty of peace with them. 
 
 A life of peril and glory was terminated in December, 
 1796. He had shielded his country from the murderous 
 tomahawk of the savage. He had established her 
 boundaries. He had forced her enemies to sue for her 
 protection. He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts and 
 potent in arms. What more could his patriotic spirit 
 wish to see? He died in a hut at Presque Isle, aged 
 about fifty-one years, and was buried on the shore of 
 Lake Erie. 
 
 A few years since his bones were taken up by his son, 
 Isaac Wayne, Esq. and entombed in his native country ; 
 and by direction of the Pennsylvania State Society of 
 the Cincinnati, an elegant monument was erected. It is 
 to be seen within the cemetery of St. David s Church, 
 
OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 353 
 
 situated in Chester county. It is constructed of white 
 marble, of the most correct symmetry and beauty."* 
 
 OTHO H. WILLIAMS, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 "THIS gentleman was formed for eminence in any sta 
 tion. His talents were of a high order, and his attain 
 ments various and extensive. Possessing a person of 
 uncommon symmetry, and peculiarly distinguished by 
 the elegance of his manners, he would have graced, 
 alike, a court or a camp. 
 
 Rich in that speceis of military science which is ac 
 quired by experience, and a correct, systematic, and 
 severe disciplinarian, General Greene confided to him 
 the important trust of adjutant general to the southern 
 army. The services which, in this an d other capacities, 
 he rendered to that division of the American forces, in 
 the course of their toilsome and perilous operations were 
 beyond all praise. 
 
 He was born in the county of Prince George, in the 
 year 1748, and received, during his youth, but a slender 
 education. This he so much improved by subsequent 
 study, that few men had a finer taste, or a more cultiva 
 ted intellect. 
 
 He commenced his military career, as lieutenant of a 
 rifle company, in 1775; and, in the course of the follow 
 ing year, was promoted to the rank of a major in a rifle 
 regiment. 
 
 In this corpse he very honourably distinguished him 
 self in the defence of Fort Washington, on York Island, 
 when assaulted by Sir William Howe; and, on the sur 
 render of that post became a prisoner. 
 
 Having suffered much by close confinement, during his 
 captivity, he was exchanaged for major Ackiand, after 
 the capture of Burgoyne, and immediately rejoined the. 
 standard of his country. . 
 
 Being now promoted to the rank of colonel of a regi 
 ment of infantry, he was detached, under the Baron De 
 Kulb, to the army of the south. 
 
 *.Amer. Biographical Doctionary. 
 
 W2 
 
354 OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 
 
 General Gates having been appointed to the command 
 of this division of the American forces, he was present 
 with that officer, at his defeat before Camden ; and du 
 ring the action manifested great valour and skill, in di 
 recting and leading the operations against the enemy, 
 while resistance was practicable; and an equal degree 
 of self-possession and address, in conducting the troops 
 from the field, when compelled to retreat. 
 
 But as an officer, his valour and skill in battle were 
 ^among the lowest of his qualifications. His penetration 
 and sagacity, united to a profound judgment, and a ca 
 pacious mind, rendered him, in the cabinet, particularly 
 valuable. 
 
 Hence, he was one of Gen. Greene s favourite counsel 
 lors, during the whole of his southern campaigns. Nor 
 did any thing ever occur, either through neglect or mis 
 take, to impair the confidence thus reposed in him. In 
 no inconsiderable degree, he was to Greene, what that 
 officer had been to Gen. Washington, his strongest hope 
 in all emergencies, where great policy and address were 
 required. 
 
 This was clearly manifested, by the post assigned to 
 him by General Greene, during his celebrated retreat 
 through North Carolina. 
 
 In that great and memorable movement, on which the 
 fate of the south was staked, to Williams was confided 
 the command of the rear guard, which was literally the 
 shield and rampart of the army. Had he relaxed, but 
 for a moment, in his vigilance and exertion, or been guil 
 ty of a single imprudent act, ruin must have ensued. 
 
 Nor was his command much less momentous, when, 
 recrossing the Dan, Greene again advanced on the ene 
 my. Still in the post of danger and honour, he now, in 
 the van of the army, commanded the same corps with 
 which he had previously moved in the rear. 
 
 A military friend who knew him well, has given us 
 the following summary of his character. 
 
 " He possessed that range of mind, although self-edu 
 cated, which entitled him to the highest military station, 
 and was actuated by true courage, which can refuse, as 
 well as give battle. Soaring far above the reach of vul- 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 355 
 
 gar praise, he singly aimed at promoting the common 
 weal, satisfied with the consciousness of doing right, 
 and desiring only that share of applause, which was 
 justly his own. 
 
 There was a loftiness and liberality in his character, 
 which forbade resort to intrige and hypocrisy in the ac 
 complishment of his views, and rejected the contempti 
 ble practice of disparaging others to exalt himself. 
 
 In the field of battle he was self-possessed, intelligent, 
 and ardent; in camp circumspect, attentive, and system 
 atic; in council sincere, deep, and perspicuous. During 
 the campaigns of General Greene, he was uniformly one 
 of his few advisers, and held his unchanged confidence. 
 Nor was he less esteemed by his brother officers, or less 
 respected by his soldiery. 
 
 Shortly before the close of the war, he was promoted 
 to the rank of brigadier general."* 
 
 BENEDICT ARNOLD, 
 
 The Traitor. 
 
 " BENEDICT ARNOLD, a major general in the American 
 army during the revolutionary war, and infamous for de 
 serting the cause of his country, was early chosen cap 
 tain of a volunteer company in New-Haven, Connecti 
 cut, where he lived. After hearing of the battle of Lex 
 ington, he immediately marched, with his company, for 
 the American head-quarters, and reached Cambridge* 
 April 29, 1775. 
 
 He immediately waited on the Massachusetts com 
 mittee of safety, and informed them of the defenceless 
 state of Ticonderoga. The committee appointed him a 
 colonel, and commissioned him to raise four hundred 
 men, and to take that fortress. He proceeded directly 
 to Vermont, and when he arrived at Castleton, was at 
 tended by one servant only. Here he joined Colonel 
 Allen, and on the 10th of May the fortress was taken. 
 
 In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander in 
 chief to penetrate through the wilderness of the Dis- 
 
 *Life of Greene. 
 
356 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 trict of Maine, into Canada. On the 16th of September, 
 he commenced his march, with about one thousand 
 men, consisting of New-England infantry, some volun 
 teers, a company of artillery, and three companies of 
 riflemen. One division was obliged to return, or it would 
 have perished by hunger. After sustaining almost in* 
 credible hardships, he in six weeks arrived at Point Levi, 
 opposite to Quebec. The appearance of an army, 
 emerging from the wilderness, threw the city into the 
 greatest consternation In this moment of surprise, Ar 
 nold might probably have become master of the place; 
 but the small crafts and boats in the river were removed 
 out of his reach. 
 
 It seems that his approach was not altogether unex 
 pected. He had imprudently, a number of days before, 
 sent forward a letter to a friend, by an Indian, who be 
 trayed him. A delay of several days, on account of 
 the difficulty of passing the river was inevitable; and 
 the critical moment was lost. 
 
 On the 14th of November, he crossed the St. Law- 
 rence in the night; and ascending the precipice which 
 Wolfe had climbed before him, formed his small corps 
 on the height, near the memorable Plains of Abraham. 
 With only about seven hundred men, one-third of whose 
 muskets had been rendered useless in their mardi 
 through the wilderness, success could not be expected. 
 After parading some days on the heights near the 
 town, and sending two flags to summon the inhabitants, 
 he retired to Point aux Trembles, twenty miles above 
 Quebec, and there awaited the arrival of Montgomery, 
 who joined him on the first of December. The city was 
 immediately besieged, but the best measures had been 
 taken for its defence. On the morning of the last day 
 of the year, an assault was made on the one side of the 
 city, by Montgomery, who was killed. At the. same 
 time, Colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hun 
 dred and fifty men, made a desperate attack on the 
 opposite side. Advancing with the utmost intrepidity 
 along the St. Charles, through a narrow path, exposed 
 to an incessant fire of grape shot and musketry as he 
 approached the first barrier, he received a musket ball 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 357 
 
 in the leg, which shattered the bone ; and he was carried 
 off to the canr.p. Though the attack was unsuccessful, 
 the blockade of Quebec was continued till May, 1776; 
 when the army, which was in no condition to risk an 
 assault, was removed to a more defensible position. 
 Arnold was compelled to relinquish one post after an 
 other, till the 18th of June, when he quitted Canada. 
 A fter this period, he exhibited great bravery in the com 
 mand of the American fleet on Lake Champlain. 
 
 In August, 1777, he relieved Fort Schuyler, under the 
 command of Colonel Gausevoort, which was invested by 
 Col. St. Leger, with an army of from fifteen to eighteen 
 hundred men. In the battle near Stillwater, September 
 the nineteenth he conducted himself with his usual in 
 trepidity : being engaged, incessantly, for four hours. In 
 the action of October the 7th, after the British had 
 been driven into their lines, Arnold pressed forward, and, 
 under a tremendous fire, assaulted their works from 
 right to left. The intrenchments were at length forced, 
 and with a few men he actually entered the works; but 
 his horse being killed, and he himself badly wounded 
 in the leg, he found it necessary to withdraw, and as it 
 was now almost dark, to desist from the attack. 
 
 Being rendered unfit for active service, in consequence 
 or his wound, after the recovery of Philadelphia, he 
 was appointed to the command of the American garri 
 son. VVhen he entered the city, he made the house of 
 Governor Penn, the best house in the city, his head 
 quarters. This he furnished in a very costly manner, 
 and lived far beyond his income. He had wasted the 
 plunder, which he had seized at Montreal, in his retreat 
 from Canada; and at Philadelphia, he was determined 
 to make new acquisitions. He laid his hands on every 
 thing in the city, which could be considered as the prop 
 erty of those who were unfriendly to the cause of his- 
 country. He was charged with oppression, extortion, 
 and enormous charges upon the public, in his accounts; 
 and with applying the public money and property to his 
 own private use. Such was his conduct, that he drew 
 upon himself the odium of the inhabitants, not only of 
 the city, but of the province in general. He was engaged 
 
358 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 in trading speculations, and had shares in several priva 
 teers; but was unsuccessful. 
 
 From the judgment of the commissioners, who had 
 been appointed to inspect his accounts, and who had 
 rejected above half the amount of his demands, he ap 
 pealed to congress; and they appointed a committee of 
 their own body to examine and settle the business. The 
 committee confirmed the report of the commissioners, 
 and thought they had allowed him more than he had 
 any right to expect or demand. By these disappoint 
 ments he became irritated, and he gave full scope to his 
 resentment. His invectives against congress were not 
 less violent, than those which he had before thrown out 
 against the commissioners. He was, however, soon obli 
 ged to abide the judgment of a court-martial, upon the 
 charges exhibited against him by the executive of Penn 
 sylvania; and he was subjected to the mortification of 
 receiving a reprimand from Washington. His trial com 
 menced in June 1778, but such were the delays occasion 
 ed by the movements of the army, that it was not con 
 cluded until the 26th of January, 1779. The sentence 
 of a reprimand was approved by congress, and was soon 
 afterward carried into execution. 
 
 Such was the humiliation, to which General Arnold 
 was reduced, in consequence of yielding to the tempta 
 tions of pride and vanity, and indulging himself in the 
 pleasures of a sumptuous table and expensive equipage. 
 
 From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted 
 from the cause of America. He turned his eyes to West 
 Point as an acquisition, which would give value to trea 
 son, while its loss would inflict a mortal wound on his 
 former friends. He addressed himself to the delegation 
 of New-York, in which state his reputation was pecu 
 liarly high ; and a member of congress from this state, 
 recommended him, to Washington for the service which 
 he desired. But this request could not be immediately 
 complied with. The same application to the comman 
 der in chief was made not long afterward through Gen. 
 Schuyle. Washington observed, that, as there was a 
 prospect of an active campaign, he should be gratified 
 with the aid of General Arnold in the field, but intima- 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 359 
 
 ted at the same time, that he should receive the ap 
 pointment requested if it should be more pleasing to him. 
 Arnold, without discovering much solicitude, repaired 
 to camp in the beginning of August, and renewed, in per 
 son, the solicitations which had been before indirectly 
 made. He was now offered the command of the left 
 wing of the army, which was advancing against New- 
 York, but he declined it under the pretext, that in con 
 sequence of his wounds, he was unable to perform the 
 active duties of the field. Without a suspicion of his 
 patriotism, he was invested with the command of West 
 Point. Previously to his soliciting this station, he had, 
 in a letter to Col. Robinson, signified his change of prin 
 ciples and his wish to restore himself to the favour of 
 his prince, by some signal proof of his repentance. This 
 letter opened to him a correspondence with Sir Henry 
 Clinton, the object of which was to concert the means 
 of putting the important post, which he commanded, in^ 
 to the possession of the British general. 
 
 His plan, it is believed, was to have drawn the great 
 er part of his army without the works, under the pretext 
 of fighting the enemy in the defiles, and to have left un 
 guarded a designated pass, through which the assailants 
 might securely approach and surprise the fortress. His 
 troops he intended to place, so that they would be com 
 pelled to surrender, or be cut in pieces. But just as his 
 scheme was ripe for execution, the wise Disposer of 
 events, who so often and so remarkably interposed in fa 
 vour of the American cause, blasted his designs. 
 
 Major Andre, adjutant general of the British army, 
 was selected as the person, to whom the maturing of 
 Arnold s treason, and the arrangements for its execution 
 should be committed. A correspondence was, for some 
 time, carried on between them under a mercantile dis 
 guise, and the feigned names of Gustavus and Ander 
 son; and at length, to facilitate their communications, 
 the Vulture sloop of war moved up the North River and 
 took a station convenient for the purpose, but not so 
 near as to excite suspicion. An interview was agreed 
 on, and in the night of September the 21st, 1780, he was 
 taken in a boat, which was despatched for the purpose. 
 
360 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 and carried to the beach without the posts of both ar 
 mies, under a pass for John Anderson. He met General 
 Arnold at the house of a Mr. Smith. While the confer 
 ence was yet unfinished, daylight approached ; and to 
 avoid the danger of discovery, it was proposed, that he 
 should remain concealed till the succeeding night. He 
 is understood to have refused to be carried within the 
 American posts, but the promise made him by Arnold, 
 to respect this objection, was not observed. He was 
 carried within them contraty to his wishes and against 
 his knowledge. He continued with Arnold the succeed 
 ing day, and when on the following night, he proposed to 
 return to the Vulture, the boatmen refused to carry him, 
 because she had, during the day, shifted her station, in 
 consequence of a gun having been moved to the shore 
 and brought to bear upon her. This embarrassing cir- 
 curnstanre reduced him to the necessity of endeavouring 
 to reach New-York by land. Yielding with reluctance 
 to the urgent representations of Arnold, he laid aside his 
 regimentals, which he had hitherto worn under a sur- 
 tout, and put on a plain suit of clothes ; and receiving a 
 pass from the American general authorizing him, under 
 the feigned name of John Anderson, to proceed on the 
 public service, to the White Plains, or lower if he thought 
 proper, he set out on his return. He had passed all the 
 guards and posts on the road without suspicion, and was 
 proceeding to New York, in perfect security, when, on 
 the 23d of September, one of three militia men, who 
 were employed with others in scouting parties between 
 the lines of the two armies, springing suddenly. from his 
 covert into the road, seized the reins of his bridle and 
 stopped his horse. Instead of producing his pass, An 
 dre, with a want of self-possession, which can be attrib 
 uted only to a kind Providence, asked the man hastily, 
 where he belonged ; and being answered, to below, re 
 plied immediately, 4 and so do I. He then decla-ed 
 himself to be a British officer, on urgent business, and 
 begged that he might not be detained. The other two 
 militia-men coming up at this moment, he discovered his 
 mistake; but it was too late to repair it. He offered a 
 purse of gold and a valuable watch, to which he added 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 361 
 
 ihe most tempting promises of ample reward and per 
 manent provision from the government, if they would 
 permit him to escape, but his offers were rejected 
 without hesitation. 
 
 The militia-men, whose names were JoHn Paulding, 
 Davitl Williams, and Isaac Vanwert, proceeded to 
 search him. They found concealed in his boots, exact 
 returns, in Arnold s handwriting, of the state of the 
 forces, ordnance, and defences at West Point and its 
 dependencies; critical remarks on the works, and an 
 estimate of the men ordinarily employed in them, with 
 other interesting papers. Ander was carried before 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, the officer commanding 
 the scouting parties on the lines, and, regardless of him 
 self, and only anxious for the safety of Arnold, he still 
 maintained the character which he had assumed, and 
 requested Jameson to inform his commanding officer 
 that Anderson was taken. An express was according 
 ly despatched, and the traitor, thus becoming acquainted 
 with his danger, escaped. 
 
 Major Andre, after his detection, was permitted to 
 send a message to Arnold, to give him notice of his 
 danger, and the traitor found opportunity to escape on 
 board the Vulture, on the 25th of September, 1780, a 
 few hours before the return of Washington, who had 
 been absent on a journey to Hartford, Connecticut. It 
 is supposed, however, that he would not have escaped, 
 had not an express to the Commander-in-chief, with an 
 account of the capture of Andre, missed him by taking 
 a different road from the one which he travelled. 1 * 
 
 Arnold, on the very day of his escape, wrote the fol 
 lowing letter to Washington: 
 
 "Onboard the Vulture, 
 
 Sept. 25, 1780. 
 
 "SiR The heart which is conscious of its own recti 
 tude cannot attempt to palliate a step which the world 
 may censure as wrong; I have ever acted from a prin- 
 
 Mm. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
 X2 
 
362 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 ciple of love to my country, since the commencement of 
 the present unhappy contest between Great Britain and 
 the colonies; the same principle of love to my country 
 actuates my present conduct, however ii may appeal- 
 inconsistent to the wold, who very seldom judge right of 
 any man s actions. 
 
 "I have no favour to ask for myself. I have too often 
 experienced the ingratitude of my country to attempt it; 
 but from the known humanity of your Excellency, I am 
 induced to ask your protection for Mrs. Arnold, from 
 every insult and injury that the mistaken vengeance of 
 my country may expose her to. It ought to fall only 
 on me, she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and 
 is incapable of doing wrong. I beg she may be permit 
 ted to return to her friends in Philadelphia, or to come 
 to me, as she may choose; from your Excellency I have 
 no fears on her account, but she may suffer from the mis 
 taken fury of the country. 
 
 >6 I have to request that the enclosed letter may be 
 delievered to Mrs, Arnold, and she permitted to write 
 to me. 
 
 "I have also to ask that my clothes and baggage, 
 which are of little consequence, may be sent to me; if 
 required, their value shall be paid in money. 
 
 "1 have the, honour to be, &c. 
 
 B. ARNOLD. 
 "His Excellency Gen. Washington. 
 
 "N. B, In justice to the gentlemen of my family, Col, 
 V"arrick, and Major Franks, I think myself in honour 
 bound to declare, that they, as well as Joshua Smith Esq, 
 (who I know are suspected) are totally ignorant of any 
 transactions of mine, that they had reason to believe 
 were injurious to the public." 
 
 Mrs. Arnold was conveyed to her husband at New 
 York, and his clothes and baggage, for which he had 
 written, were transmitted to him. 
 
 14 The following is a concise description of the figures 
 exhibited and paraded through the streets of the city of 
 Philadelphia, two or three days after the affair. 
 
 "A stage raised on the body of a cart, on which was 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD 363 
 
 an effigy of General Arnold sitting; this was dressed in 
 regimentals, had two faces, emblematical of his traitor 
 ous conduct, a mask in his left hand, and a letter in his 
 right from Belzehub, telling him that he had done all the 
 mischief he could do, and now he must hang himself. 
 
 At the back of the General was a figure of the devil, 
 dressed in black robes, shaking a purse of money at the 
 General s left ear, and in his right hand a pitchfork, 
 ready to drive him into hell, as the reward due for the 
 many crimes which his thirst of gold had made him 
 commit. 
 
 In the front of the stage, and before General Arnold, 
 was placed a large lanthorn of transparent paper, with 
 the consequences of his crimes thus delineated, 2, e. on 
 one part General Arnold on his knees before the devil, 
 who is pulling him into the flames a label from the 
 General s mouth with these words: 4 iMy dear sir, I have 
 served you faithfully; to which the devil replies, And 
 I ll reward you. On another side, two figures hanging, 
 inscribed, ; The Traitor s Reward, and wrote under 
 neath, The Adjutant General of the British army, and 
 Jeo Smith; the first hanged as a spy, and the other as 
 a traitor to his country. And on the front of the lau- 
 thorn was wrote the following: 
 
 "Major General Benedict Arnold, late commander of the 
 fort West Point. The crime of this man is high treason. 
 
 He has deserted the important post, West Point, on 
 Hudson s River, committed to his charge by his Excel 
 lency the Commander in chief, and is gpne off to the 
 enemy at New York. 
 
 His design to have given up this fortress to our ene 
 mies has been discovered by the goodness of the Om 
 niscient Creator, who has not only prevented him from 
 carrying it into execution, but has thrown into our 
 hands Jlndre, the Adjutant General of their army, who 
 was detected in the infamous character of a spy. 
 
 The treachery of the ungrateful General is held up 
 to public view for the exposition of infamy; and to pro 
 claim with joyful acclamation, another instance of the 
 interposition of bounteous Providence. 
 
1364 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 The effigy of this ingrate is therefore hanged, (for 
 want of his body,) as a traitor to his native country, and 
 a betrayer of the laws of honour." 
 
 The procession began about four o clock, in the follow 
 ing order: 
 
 Several gentlemen mounted on horseback. 
 
 A line of continental officers. 
 
 Sundry gentlemen in a line. 
 
 A guard of the city infantry. 
 
 Just before the cart, drums and fifes playing the 
 
 Rogue s March. 
 Guards on each side. 
 
 The procession was attended with a numerous con 
 course of people, who, after expressing their abhorrence 
 of the treason and the traitor, commited him to the 
 flames, and left both the effigy and the original to sink 
 into ashes and oblivion."* 
 
 " During the exertions which were made to rescue 
 Andre from the destruction which threatened him, Ar 
 nold had the hardihood to interpose. He appealed to 
 the humanity of the Commander in chief, and then 
 sought to intimidate him, by stating the situation of many 
 of the principal characters of South Carolina, who had 
 forfeited their lives, but had hitherto been spared 
 through the clemency of the British General. This 
 clemency, he said, could no longer, in justice, be extend 
 ed to them, should Major Andre suffer. 
 
 Arnold was made a brigadier general in the British 
 service; which rank he preserved thoughout the war. 
 Yet he must have been held in contempt and detestation 
 by the generous and honourable. It was impossible for 
 men of this description, even when acting with him, to 
 forget that he was a traitor, first the slave of his rage, 
 then purchased with goid, and finally secured by the 
 blood of one of the most accomplished officers in the 
 -British army. One would suppose that his mind could 
 not have been much at ease; but he had proceeded so 
 
 "Nile s Revolution, 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 365 
 
 far in vice, that perhaps his reflections gave him but 
 little trouble. I am mistaken, says Washington, in a 
 private letter, if, at this time, Arnold is undergoing the 
 torments of a mental hell. He wants feeling. Front 
 some traits of his character, which have lately come to 
 my knowledge, he seems to have been so hacknied in 
 crime, so lost to all sense of honour and shame, that 
 while his faculties still enable him to continue his sordid 
 pursuits, there will be no time for remorse. 
 
 Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to 
 secure the attachment of his new friends. With the 
 hope of alluring many of the discontented to his stand 
 ard, he published an address to the inhabitants of 
 America, in which he endeavoured to justify his con 
 duct. He had encountered the dangers of the field, he 
 said, from apprehension that the rights of his country 
 were in danger. He had acquiesced in the declaration 
 of independence, though bethought it precipitate. But 
 the rejection of the overtures, made by Great Britain in 
 1778, and the French alliance, had opened his eyes to 
 the ambitious views of those, who would sacrifice the 
 happiness of their country to their own aggrandizement, 
 and had made him a confirmed royalist. He artfully 
 mingled assertions, that the principal members of con 
 gress held the people in sovereign contempt. 
 
 This was followed in about a fortnight by a procla 
 mation, addressed to the officers and soldiers of the 
 continental army, who have the real interests of their 
 country at heart, and who are determined to be no longer 
 the tools and dupes of congress or of France. To 
 induce the American officers and soldiers to desert the 
 cause which they had embraced, he represented that 
 the corps of cavalry and infantry, which he was author 
 ized to raise, would be upon the same footing with the 
 other troops in the British service; that he should with 
 pleasure advance those whose valour he had witnessed ; 
 and that the private men who joined him should receive 
 a bounty of three guineas each, besides payment, at the 
 full value, for horses, arms, and accoutrements. His ob 
 ject was the peace, liberty, and safety of America. You 
 are promised liberty, he exclaims, but is there an indi- 
 
366 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 vidual in the enjoyment of it saving your oppressors? 
 Who among you dare to speak or write what he thinks 
 against the tyranny which has robbed you of your prop 
 erty, imprisons your persons, drags you to the field of 
 battle, and is daily deluging your country with blood? 
 What, he exclaims again, 4 is America now but a land 
 of widows, orphans, and beggers? As to you, who have 
 been soldiers in the continental army, can you at this day 
 want evidence, that the funds of your country are ex 
 hausted, or that the managers have applied them to 
 their private uses? In either case you surely can no 
 longer continue in their service with honour or advan 
 tage. Yet you have hitherto been their supporters in 
 that cruelty, which, with equal indifference to yours, as 
 well as to the labour and blood of others, is devouring a 
 country, that from the moment you quit their colours, 
 will be redeemed from their tyranny. 
 
 These proclamations did not produce the effect de 
 signed, and in all the hardships, sufferings, and irritations 
 Of the war, Arnold remains the solitary instance of an 
 American officer, who abandoned the side first embra 
 ced in the contest, and turned his sword upon his former 
 companions in arms. 
 
 He was soon despatched by Sir Henry Clinton, to 
 make a diversion in Virginia. With about seventeen 
 hundred men he arrived in the Chesepeake, in January, 
 1781, and being supported by such a naval force as was 
 suited to the nature of the service, he committed exten 
 sive ravages on the rivers, and along the unprotected 
 coasts. It is said that, while on this expedition, Arnold 
 inquired of an American captain whom he had taken 
 prisoner, what the Americans would do with him if he 
 should fall into their hands. The captain at first de 
 clined giving him an answer, but upon being repeatedly 
 urged to it, he said, Why, sir, if I must answer your 
 question, you must excuse my telling you the plain truth : 
 if my countrymen should catch you, I believe they would 
 first cut off that lame leg, which was wounded in the 
 cause of freedom and virtue, and bury it with the hon 
 ours of war, and afterward hang the remainder of your 
 body in gibbets. The reader will recollect that the 
 
BENEDICT ARN T OLD. 
 
 367 
 
 captain alluded to the wound Arnold received in one of 
 his legs, at the attack upon Quebec, in 1776." 
 
 The return of Gen. Arnold to New York from Virgin- 
 ia, did not fix him in a state of inactivity. He was 
 sent on an enterprise against New London, with a suffi 
 cient land and Marine force. The embarkation having 
 passed over from Long Island shore in the night, the 
 troops were landed in two detachments on each side of 
 the harbour, at ten o clock in the morning of the 6th of 
 September; that on the Groton side being commanded 
 by Lieutenant Colonel Eyre, and that on New London 
 side by the general, who met no great trouble. Fort 
 Trumbull and the redoubt, which were intended to cov 
 er the harbour and town, not being tenable, were evacu 
 ated as he approached, and the few men in them cross 
 ed the river to fort Griswold, on Groton Hill. Arnold 
 proceeded to the town without being otherwise opposed 
 than by the scattered fire of small parties that had has 
 tily collected. Orders were sent by the general to Eyre 
 Fort Griswold, that so the possession of it might prevent 
 the escaping of the American shipping. The militia, to 
 the amount of one hundred and fifty-seven, collected for 
 its defence, but so hastily as not to be fully furnished with 
 fire arms and other weapons. As the assailants ap 
 proached, a firing commenced, and the flag-staff was 
 soon shot down, from whence the neighbouring specta 
 tors inferred that the place had surrendered, till the con 
 tinuance of the firing convinced them to the contrary. 
 The garrison defended themselves with the greatest res 
 olution and bravery ; Eyre was wounded near the works, 
 and Major Montgomery was killed immediately after, so 
 that the command devolved on Major Broomfield. The 
 British at one time staggered ; but the fort being out of 
 repair, could not be maintained by a handful of men 
 against so superior a number as that which assaulted 
 it. After an action of about forty minutes, the resolu 
 tion of the royal troops carried the place by the point of 
 the bayonet. The Americans had not more than half 
 a dozen killed before the enemy entered the fort, when 
 a severe execution took place, though resistance ceased. 
 The British officer inquired, on his entering the fort, who 
 
368 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 Commanded? Col Leynard answered 4 I did, sir but 
 you do now; and presented him his sword. The colo 
 nel was immediately run through and killed. The slain 
 were seventy-three: the wounded between thirty and 
 forty, and about forty were carried off prisoners. Soon 
 after reducing the fort, the soldiers loaded a wagon with 
 die wounded, as said, by order of their officers, and set 
 the wagons off from the top of the hill, which is long and 
 very steep: the wagon went a considerable distance 
 with great force, till it was suddenly stopped, by an ap 
 ple tree, which gave the faint and bleeding men so ter 
 rible a shock that part of them died instantly. About 
 fifteen vessels, with the effects of the inhabitants retreat 
 ed up the river, notwithstanding the reduction of the 
 fort, and four others remained in the harbour unhurt; a 
 number were burnt by the fire s communicating from the 
 stores when in flames. Sixty dwelling houses and eigh 
 ty four stores were burned, including those on both sides 
 of the harbour and in New London. The burning of the 
 town was intentional and not accidental. The loss that 
 the Americans sustained in this destruction was very 
 great; for there were large quantities of naval stores, 
 of European goods, of East and West India commodi 
 ties, and of provisions in the several stores. The Brit 
 ish had two commissioned officers and forty-six privates 
 killed; eight officers (some of whom are since dead) 
 with one hundred and thirty-five non-commissioned and 
 privates wounded."* 
 
 44 From the conclusion of the war until his death, Gen. 
 Arnold resided chiefly in England. He died in Glou 
 cester place, London, June 14, 1801. His character 
 presents little to be commended. His daring courage 
 may excite admiration; but it was a courage without 
 reflection and without principle. He fought bravely for 
 his country; and he bled in her cause; but his country 
 owed him no returns of gratitude, for his subsequent con 
 duct proved, that he had no honest regard to her inter 
 ests, but was governed by selfish considerations. His 
 progress from self-indulgence to treason was easy and 
 
 * Nile s Rerolution. 
 
feENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 rapid. He was vain and luxurious, and to gratify his 
 giddy desires, he must resort to meanness, dishonesty, 
 and extortion. These vices brought with them disgrace ; 
 and the contempt into which he fell, awakened a spirit 
 of revenge, and left him to the unrestrained influence of 
 his cupidity and passion. Thus from the high fame to 
 which his bravery had elevated him, he descended into 
 infamy. Thus too, he furnished new evidence of the 
 infatuation of the human mind, in attaching such value 
 to the reputation of a soldier, which may be obtained 
 while the heart is unsound, and every moral sentiment is 
 entirely depraved."* 
 
 * Amer. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
 Y2 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY NAVAL, OFFICERS, 
 
 JOHN PAUL JONES, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "THE following interesting narrative is translated from 
 a French manuscript, written by himself. While we 
 condemn the author for his egotism, we must make great 
 allowances, on that account, for the splendid success 
 that attended his enterprises, and estimate his vanity by 
 the reasons he had to be vain. Few even, perhaps, 
 circumstanced as Paul Jones was, would have praised 
 themselves less than he has done in this sketch; which 
 possesses the singular merit of being substantially cor 
 rect in all its parts, so far as we are informed of the 
 matter." Niles s Register. 
 
 At the commencement of the American war (during 
 the year 1775) I was employed to fit out the little 
 squadron, which the congress had placed under Com 
 modore Hopkins, who was appointed to the command 
 of all the armed vessels appertaining to America; and 
 I hoisted, with my own hands, the American flag, on 
 board the Alfred, which was then displayed for the first 
 time. 
 
 I at the same time acquainted Mr. Hewes, a member 
 of congress, and my particular friend, with a project for 
 seizing on the Island of St. Helena, by means of our 
 little squadron, which would have infallibly rendered us 
 masters of part of the homeward-bound East India 
 fleet; and as the congress, at that time, proposed to 
 appropriate two thirds of the prizes to itself, they 
 would have thus been furnished with the means of car 
 rying on the war during several years; but an event of 
 a more pressing nature prevented this scheme from being 
 carried into execution. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 371 
 
 The cruelties and vexations at that time exercised 
 by Dunmore, in Virginia, determined the congress to 
 detach the squadron against him; but Mr. Hopkins dis 
 played neither zeal nor talents upon this occasion, and 
 lost so much time that his squadron was frozen in the 
 Delaware. 
 
 After a delay of two months, the squadron was at 
 length disengaged, and set sail for New Providence, the 
 principal of the Bahama Islands. There we found a 
 large quantity of artillery, mortars, and other imple 
 ments of warfare, of which we stood greatly in want in 
 America ; and I had the good fortune to render myself 
 useful to the Commodore, who was but little acquainted 
 with military operations. It was to me he was indebt 
 ed for the plan adopted by him when the squadron came 
 in sight of New Providence, and I also undertook to 
 moor the squadron in a proper birth to execute our en 
 terprise. 
 
 On our return from New Providence we took two 
 armed vessels, one of which was loaded with bombs, 
 and fell in, near Rhode Island, with an English man of 
 war, called the Glasgow, carrying twenty-four guns; 
 but, notwithstanding our superiority, both in point of 
 force and sailing, the Commander in chief suffered her 
 to escape, after having lost many men killed and wound 
 ed, both on board the Alfred and the Cabot. 
 
 The squadron now entered the port of New-London,, 
 in Connecticut; and Hopkins, on receiving intelligence 
 that the English frigates had been driven from Newport, 
 took advantage of the darkness of the nights to repair 
 to Rhode Island. 
 
 A council of war having dismissed the captain of the 
 Providence, one of the ships of the squadron, the Com 
 modore gave me orders in writing to take the command 
 of her, and to escort some troops that were proceeding 
 from Rhode Island to New York, with a view of serving 
 under General Washington. After this, I received in 
 structions to escort a convoy of artillery from Rhode 
 Island to New York, for the defence of which it was 
 destined. On this occasion, I had two different engage 
 ments with the Cerberus frigate; the first for the protec- 
 
372 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 tion of the vessels under my command, and the second 
 for the preservation of a vessel from St. Domingo, laden 
 with naval stores for the congress. In the course of my 
 service between Boston and New-York, I had also ma 
 ny actions with ships of war under the command of 
 Lord Howe ; but on these, as on former occasions, I was 
 enabled to preserve my convoy, and I at length arrived 
 safe in the Delaware, August 1, 1776. 
 
 On the 8th of the same month the president of the 
 congress, presented me in person, with the commission 
 of captain in the marine of the United States; this was 
 the first granted by congress since the declaration of 
 independence, which took place on the 4th of July of 
 that same year. 
 
 Orders had been given for the construction of thirteen 
 frigates; but, as none of them was yet ready, I proceed 
 ed to sea alone, on board the Providence, which was a 
 vessel of but small force, as she carried no more than 
 seventy men, and twelre small cannon. When in the 
 neighbourhood of Bermudas, we fell in with the Sole- 
 bay, and her convoy, from Charleston ; she was a thirty^- 
 two gun frigate, and formed part of the squadron under 
 Admiral Parker. I was of course desirous to avoid an 
 engagement with such superior force ; but as my officers 
 and men insisted that it was the Jamaica fleet, as it 
 was necessary to command by means of persuasion at this 
 epoch of the war, the result was a serious engagement 
 during six hours, which, toward the close, was carried 
 on within pistol shot. A desperate manoeuvre was the 
 sole resource left me; I attempted this, it succeeded, 
 and I was fortunate enough to disengage myself. 
 
 A short time after this, I took several prizes, nnd then 
 sailed towards the coast of Nova Scotia, on purpose to 
 destroy the whale and cod fisheries in that neighbour 
 hood. When near Sable island, we fell in with the 
 Milford frigate, carrying thirty-two guns, with which it 
 was impossible to avoid an engagement. A cannonade 
 accordingly took place, from ten o clock in the morning 
 until sunset; but the engagement was neither so close 
 nor so hot as that with the Solebay, and I at length es 
 caped by passing through the flats, and entered a little 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 373 
 
 harbour next day, where I destroyed the fishery and 
 vessels. 
 
 After this I set sail for He Madame, where I made 
 two descents, at the same time destroying the fisheries, 
 and burning all the vessels I could not carry away with 
 me. Having accomplished this, I returned to Rhode- 
 Island, after an absence of six weeks and five days from 
 the Delaware; during this interval I had taken six 
 teen prizes, without including those destroyed. 
 
 The commander in chief, w r ho had remained all this 
 time in harbour, now adopted a plan proposed by me, 
 and which consisted, 
 
 1. In the destruction of the enemy s fisheries at He 
 Royale ; and 
 
 2. Of restoring to liberty more than three hundred 
 American prisoners detained there in the coal mines. 
 Three vessels were destined for this service, the Alfred,, 
 the Hampden, and the Providence; but the Hampden 
 having received considerable damage in consequence of 
 running on a rock, could not accompany me. I, howev 
 er, embarked on board the Alfred, and taking the Prov 
 idence by way of consort, I set sail, and on the 2d of 
 November, 1776, made a prize of a vessel from Liver 
 pool, and soon after the Mellish, a large armed vessel, 
 having two British naval officers on board, and a cap 
 tain belonging to the land service, with a company of 
 soldiers. This ship was carrying ten thousand complete 
 sets of uniform to Canada, for the army posted there 
 under the orders of Generals Carleton and Burgoyne. 
 
 The Providence having now left the Alfred during the 
 night, without the least pretext whatever, I remained 
 alone, and that too during the stormy season, on the 
 enemy s coast; but notwithstanding this, and that I was 
 also greatly embarrassed with my prisoners, I resolved 
 not to renounce my project. I accordingly effected a 
 descent, destroyed a transport of great value, and alsd 
 burned the magazines and buildings^destined for the 
 whale and cod fishery. 
 
 In addition to this, I took three transports, and a ves 
 sel laden with ling and furs, near He Royale; these pri 
 zes were escorted by the Flora frigate, which happened 
 
374 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 to be at a small distance, but which was concealed 
 from us by a fog. Having taken a privateer from Liv 
 erpool, mounting sixteen guns, in the course of next day, 
 I instantly returned with my prizes, toward the United 
 States; but when in the latitude of Boston, fell in with 
 the Mil ford frigate, which I unwillingly engaged. To 
 ward night, however, I placed the Alfred between the 
 enemy aiid my prizes, and having given the necessary 
 instructions to the latter, to make for the nearest port, I 
 changed my course, set up lights, and by this stratagem 
 saved the vessels I had captured, as the frigate continu 
 ed in chase of me. Next day I myself was fortunate 
 enough to escape, after a very serious action, which was 
 not terminated until dark, and even then inconsequence 
 of a hard gale of wind. 
 
 Having returned to Boston, December 10, 1776, the 
 intelligence of the uniforms taken on board the Mellish, 
 reanimated the courage of the army under Gen. Wash 
 ington, which at that period happened to be almost des 
 titute of clothing. Let me add also, that this unexpected 
 succour contributed not a little to the success of the af 
 fair at Trenton against the Hessians, which took place 
 immediately after my arrival. 
 
 I now paid out of my own purse the wages due to the 
 crews of the Alfred and the Providence, and lent the 
 rest of my money to the congress. That assembly trans 
 mitted me orders from Philadelphia, on the 5th of Feb 
 ruary, to undertake a secret expedition of great impor 
 tance, the design of^yhich was, to Iny the Island of St. 
 Christopher, and the north side of Jamaica, under con 
 tribution; after which we were to attack Pensacola. 
 This project was first, conceived by me, and then com 
 municated to Mr. Morris, afterward minister of finance: 
 but such was the jealousy of Hopkins, the commander 
 in chief, that it was never carried into execution. He 
 was, however, soon after suspended, and then dismissed 
 from the service. 
 
 The season being now too far advanced for the exe 
 cution of the scheme in the West Indies, myself and 
 crew received orders to remove on board the Amphytrite, 
 a French ressel, destined to sail from Portsmouth, New- 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 375 
 
 Hampshire, to France, whence we were to pass into 
 Holland, and take possession of the Indienne, a large 
 frigate, constructing there for the congress; some diffi 
 culties however ensued, and I was ordered to prepare 
 the Ranger, a vessel mounting eighteen guns. 
 
 When Gen. Burgoyne and his army were obliged to 
 surrender at Saratoga, it was I who was the first obliged 
 to carry this interesting intelligence to Nantes, whither I 
 arrived on the 2d of December, 1777. In the course of 
 my voyage, I took two prizes, forming a part of a convoy 
 from the Mediterranean, under the protection of the In 
 vincible, a seventy-four gun ship, under the guns of which 
 one of them was taken. 
 
 In the month of January, 1778,1 repaired to Paris, to 
 make the necessary arrangements with the American 
 ministers, relative to the equipment of the Indienne ; but, 
 as the recent intelligence relative to the capture of Bur 
 goyne had determined the court of France to recognise 
 the independence of America by means of a treaty of 
 alliance, and as the English ambassador at the Hague, 
 in consequence of obtaining possession of the papers of 
 an American agent, found that the Indienne was the 
 property of congress, I acquiesced in the opinion of the 
 American ministers; and it was determined to cede the 
 property to his most Christian majesty, this being the 
 most likely method of preserving the property. 
 
 I then returned on board the Ranger, and as I had re 
 ceived information from America, relative to the force 
 and stations of the English fleet in that quarter, I imme 
 diately transmitted a letter to Mr. Deane, one of the 
 American ministers at Paris, communicating a plan of 
 an expedition with a squadron of ten sail of the line, a 
 few frigates, and a small body of land forces, with a view 
 of completely destroying the enemy s naval power ac 
 ting against the United States. This scheme was not 
 adopted until it was too late, and then it of course be 
 came impracticable. 
 
 In the mean time I took several American vessels un 
 der my convoy, from Nantes, to the bay of Quiberon, 
 where M. La Motte Piquet was lying at anchor, with 
 six sail of the line, a few frigates, and several merchant- 
 
376 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 men, which he was to take under his protection to the 
 westward of Cape Finisterre. M. de la Fayette was on 
 board this fleet, which was provided with clothing, am 
 munition, and military stores for America. 
 
 I reached the bay, February 13, 1778, and sent to de 
 mand of the admiral, if he would return my salute; and 
 this compliment was immediately agreed to by that 
 brave officer, although neither he nor I knew at that pe 
 riod, that a treaty of alliance had been signed between 
 France and America seven days before. This was the 
 first salute received by the American flag from any pow 
 er, and occasioned much dispute in the English par 
 liament. 
 
 I now set sail from the bay of Quiberon to Brest, but 
 did not enter the road ; on the contrary, I anchored at 
 Cammeret, where I was detained by contrary winds un 
 til the French embassador at the court of St. James , 
 had announced the treaty lately concluded between his 
 most Christian majesty and the United States. 
 
 On this, 1 immediately sailed into Brest water, and 
 saluted the Count D Orvilliers, who returned the salute, 
 and received me with all the honours due to an admiral, 
 on board his flag-ship La Bretagne. 
 
 In the month of February, 1776, the parliament of 
 England had authorized George III. to treat all the A- 
 mericans taken at sea, with arms in their hands, as trai 
 tors, pirates, and felons; this, more than any other cir 
 cumstance, rendered me the declared enemy of Great 
 Britain. From the very commencement of the war, an 
 exchange of prisoners had taken place between General 
 Washington and the commanders of the enemy s army; 
 notwithstanding the haughty conduct of Great Britain, 
 she was obliged to submit to this arrangement, and con 
 sider the American soldiers, as prisoners of war. It was, 
 however, an atrocious crime to act against her by sea; 
 and England, on this occasion, perpetuated anew, all the 
 cruelties on America which she had lavished on Scot 
 land in 1745. A ferocious and vindictive people would 
 have rejoiced to have seen the American sailors cut 
 down from the gibbet while yet alive, their breast open 
 ed with a knife, and their yet palpitating hearts thrown 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 37? 
 
 into the flames! If they did not dare to attempt this* 
 they, however, shut up a number of citizens of the 
 United States in the English prisons during five whole 
 years, where they suffered all the horrors proceeding 
 from cold> hunger, and ivery sort of mal-treatment. 
 Some of these unfortunates were sold on the coast of 
 Africa, while others were transported to the West In 
 dies. The firmness with which these martyrs of liberty 
 supported their hard lot, is wholly unexampled; for they 
 preferred every kind of persecution to serving on board 
 the English navy. 
 
 Indignant at the barbarous treatment experienced by 
 the Americans, I determined to make a grand effort in 
 their behalf, with a view of stopping the barbarous pro 
 ceedings of the English in Europe, as well as on the 
 western continent ; in the latter of which they set fire to 
 their houses, destroyed their property, and burned and 
 destroyed whole towns. I accordingly determined, by 
 way of retaliation, to effect a descent upon some part of 
 England, with a view of destroying the shipping. It 
 was also my intention to make some person of distiftc- 
 tion prisoner, whom I resolved to detain as a hostage for 
 the security of, and in order to exchange with, the 
 American prisoners in England. 
 
 Admiral D Orvilliers, to whom I communicated this 
 project, offered to procure for me a captain s commission 
 in the French marine, that, in case I met with any dis 
 asters, I might claim the protection of his most Christian 
 majesty ; but however advantageous this was, I deter 
 mined to decline the acceptance; because in the first 
 place, I was not authorized by congress to change my 
 flag; and, in the second, such conduct might have ren 
 dered my attachment to America suspected. 
 
 I accordingly sailed from Brest, and advanced to 
 wards Ireland, neglecting the capture of a number of 
 vessels within my reach, as I did not wish to diminish 
 the strength of my crew. Near to the entrance into 
 Carrickfergus, I however, seized on a fishing boat, man 
 ned with six persons, who proved to be pilots. The 
 Drake, a twenty gun ship, happened to be then on the 
 , and even within sight; I imagined it possible to 
 
 Z2 
 
378 JOHN PAUL JOiVES. 
 
 obtain possession of her by surprise during the night*- 
 With this view, I immediately gave orders for making 
 the necessary preparations ; but the mate, who had drank 
 too much brandy, did not let go the anchor according to 
 orders, which prevented the Ranger from running foul 
 of the Drake according to my intentions. As I had 
 reason to believe, that my appearance had not hitherto 
 given any alarm, I deemed it prudent to cut my cable, 
 and returned into St. George s channel. I remained 
 there, buffetted about by the winds, during three days, 
 until the weather having become more favourable, I de 
 termined a second time to attempt a descent; this pro 
 ject, however, greatly alarmed my lieutenants; they 
 were poor, they said, and their object was gain, not hon 
 our: they accordingly excited disobedience among the 
 ship s company, by persuading them that they had a 
 right to determine, whether the measures adopted by me 
 were well concerted or not. 
 
 I happened to beat this period within sight of White- 
 haven, in Cumberland, at the mouth of the Solway 
 Frith. This is a considerable harbor, in which there 
 then were about 400 sail, some of them vessels of 250 
 tons burthen; and I had determined to take advantage 
 of the ebb tide, when the shipping was dry, to destroy 
 them. To effect this, it was necesary to land about 
 midnight, with a party of determined men, and seize on 
 a fort and a battery, which defended the port. My two 
 lieutenants, being averse to the enterprise, and yet being 
 unwilling to discover their true motives, feigned illness. 
 On this I determined to take the command in person, 
 and with much difficulty prevailed on thirty volunteers 
 to follow me. 
 
 With this handful of men, and two small boats, I quit 
 ted the Ranger, at eleven o clock at night, and rowed 
 towards the haibor; but, it being farther off than we 
 imagined, and the tide against us, day broke before we 
 had effected a landing. 
 
 I now sent the smallest of the boats towards the nor 
 thern side of the harbor to set fire to the vessels, while 
 I myself advanced with the other to the south, to take 
 possession of the forl and battery, the first of which 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES- 379 
 
 was taken by assault, I myself being the first to enter 
 if. through one of the embrasures. We then nailed up 
 the thirty-six cannon mounted on the batteries, and ad 
 vanced towards the south, with a view of burning all 
 the vessels, when to my infinite astonishment, I beheld 
 the other boat returning, without having done any thing. 
 
 On this I deemecf it best to unite my forces, with a 
 view of effecting, at least some part of our enterprise. 
 In short we set fire to some of the vessels, and it soon 
 burned with great fierceness, and began to communicate ; 
 but as it was now eight o clock in the morning, and the 
 inhabitants began to approach near us in crowds, I could 
 no longer defer my retreat, which was made in good or 
 der. On my return on board the Ranger, the wind being 
 favorable, I set sail for the coast of Scotland. It was 
 my intention to take the Earl of Selkirk prisoner, and 
 detain his lordship as a hostage, in conformity to the 
 project already mentioned. It was with this view about 
 noon of the same day I landed on that nobleman s es 
 tate, with two officers and a few men. In the course of 
 my progress, I fell in with some of the inhabitants, who, 
 taking me for an Englishman, observed, that Lord Sel 
 kirk, was then in London, but that her ladyship and sev 
 eral other ladies were at the castle. 
 
 On this, I determined to return ; but such moderate 
 conduct was not conformable to the wishes of my peo 
 ple, who were disposed to pillage, burn and destroy every 
 thing, in imitation of the conduct of the English towards 
 the Americans. Although I was not disposed to copy 
 such horrid proceedings, more especially when a lady 
 was in question, it was yet necessary to recur to such 
 means as should satisfy their cupidity, and, at the same 
 time, provide for Lady Selkirk s safety, It immediately 
 appeared to me, to be the most proper mode to give or 
 ders to the two officers to repair to the castle with the 
 men, who were to remain on the outside under arms, 
 while they themselves entered alone. They were then 
 instructed to enter, and demand the family plate, in a 
 polite manner, accepting whatever was offered them, and 
 then to return, without making any further inquiries., or 
 attempting to search for more. 
 
,380 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 I was punctually obeyed ; the plate was delivered : 
 Lady Selkirk herself observed to the officers, that she 
 was exceedingly sensible of my moderation; she even 
 intimated a wish to repair to the shore, although a mile 
 distance from her residence, in order to invite me to din 
 ner; but the officers would not allow her ladyship to take 
 so much trouble. 
 
 Next day, April 4, 1778, 1 prepared to return to Car- 
 rickfergus, to attack the Drake in open day; but the 
 lieutenants were averse to the project, and the crew of 
 the Ranger became so mutinous, that 1 ran no small 
 risk of being either killed or thrown into the sea; and 
 but two days before, I was on the point of being aban 
 doned, and left ashore at VVhitehaven. 
 
 In the mean time, the captain of the Drake sloop of 
 war, having been informed of our descent at Whiteha- 
 ven, prepared to attack us; and, while every thing was 
 getting ready, he despatched an officer on board his 
 boat, with a spy-glass, in order to reconnoitre the Ran 
 ger. On this, I immediately masked my guns, kept my 
 men out of sight, and disguised the vessel insuch a man 
 ner as to resemble a merchantman; inconsequence of 
 this the crew of the boat were deceived and taken. 
 This trifling success produced the effect of enchantment 
 on my sailors, who were no longer averse from giving 
 her battle. 
 
 The Drake, having fired some cannon to recal he* 
 boat, hoisted her anchor, and came out attended by a 
 number of yachts and pleasure-boats, with ladies and 
 gentlemen on board: but when the engagement became 
 serious, they thought proper to withdraw to a respectful 
 distance. 
 
 No sooner did the enemy make his appearance, than 
 / lay to, determined not to engage until she came within 
 pistol shot. The engagement was accordingly sustain 
 ed witb great vivacity on both sides, during an hour 
 and five minutes, when the captain and lieutenant being 
 both mortally wounded, the English flag was lowered, 
 and I took possession of her, I regretted greatly the 
 death of these brave men, and committed them to the 
 ocean with all the honors due to their valor. I, at the 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 381 
 
 same time, dismissed the six fishermen, whom I have 
 before mentioned, whose loss I repaired, and whose ser 
 vices I recompensed out of my own purse. 
 
 The Drake was greatly damaged in her masts and 
 tackling, and lost forty men either killed or wounded 
 during the action. I had also taken several other pri 
 zes; but, as my complement of men had only amounted 
 to one hundred and twenty-three, I retained no more 
 than two of them, which arrived in safety at Brest, 
 where I myself anchored with the Ranger and Drake, 
 on the 7th of May, after an absence of twenty-eight 
 days, during which I had taken upwards of two hundred 
 prisoners. This expedition was of great disservice to 
 Great Britain, as she was not only obliged to fortify her 
 ports, but also to permit the arming of the Irish volun 
 teers, as Lord Mountmorris demonstrated in a speech in 
 parliament. 
 
 At the time I had been obliged to permit my people 
 to take Lady Selkirk s plate, I determined to redeem it 
 out of my own funds the moment it should be sold, and 
 restore it to the family. Accordingly on my arrival at 
 Brest, I instantly despatched a most pathetic letter to 
 her ladyship, in which I detailed the motives of my ex 
 pedition, and the cruel necessity I was under, in conse 
 quence of the conduct of the English in America, to 
 inflict the punishment of retaliation. This was sent 
 open to the postmaster-general, that it might be shown 
 to the king of England and his ministers, and the court 
 of St. James was at length obliged to renounce the san 
 guinary act of its parliament, and exchange those very 
 Americans whom they called traitors, pirates and fel 
 ons, against the prisoners of war, whom I had taken and 
 carried to France. 
 
 "RANGER, BREST, 8th May, 1778. 
 
 Madam It cannot be too much lamented, that, in 
 the profession of arms, the officer of finer feeling, and of 
 real sensibility, should be under the necessity of winking 
 at any action of persons tinder his command, which his 
 heart cannot approve ; but the reflection is doubly se 
 vere, when he finds himself obliged, in appearance, to 
 countenance such action by authority. 
 
382 .JOHN PAUL 
 
 "This hard case was mine, when, on the 23d of April 
 last, I landed on St. Mary s Isle. Knowing Lord Sel 
 kirk s interest with his king, 1 wished to make him the 
 happy instrument of alleviating the horrors of hopeless 
 captivity, when the brave are overpowered and made 
 prisoners of war. It was perhaps fortunate for you, 
 madam, that he \fas from home, for it was my intention 
 to have taken him on board the Ranger, and to have 
 detained him, until, through his means, a general and 
 fair exchange of prisoners, as well in Europe as in 
 America, had been effected. 
 
 "When I was informed, by some men whom I met at 
 landing, that his lordship was absent, I walked back to 
 my boat, determined to leave the island. By the way, 
 however, some officers, who were with me, could not 
 forbear expressing their discontent, observing, that in 
 America na delicacy was shown by the English, who 
 took away all sorts of moveable property, setting fire 
 not only to towns, and to the houses of the rich, without 
 distinction, but not even sparing the wretched hamlets 
 and milk-cows of the poor and helpless, at the approach 
 of an inclement winter. That party had been with me 
 as volunteers the same morning at Whitehaven; some 
 complaisance, therefore, was their due. I had but a 
 moment to think how I might gratify them, and at the 
 same time, do your ladyship the least injury. I charged 
 the two officers to permit none of the seamen to enter 
 the house, or to hurt any thing about it; to treat you, 
 madam, with the utmost respect; to accept of the plate 
 which was offered; and to come away without making 
 a search, or demanding any thing else. I am induced to 
 believe that I was punctually obeyed, since 1 am inform 
 ed that the plate which they brought away is far short 
 of the quantity which is expressed in the inventory 
 which accompanied it. I have gratified my men, and 
 when the plate is soldi shall become the purchaser, and 
 will gratify my own feelings, by restoring it to you by 
 such conveyance as you shall please to direct. 
 
 * Had the earl been on board the following evening^ 
 he would have seen the awful pomp and dreadful car 
 nage of a sea engagement; both affording ample subject 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 383 
 
 for the pencil, as well as melancholy reflection for the 
 contemplative mind. Humanity starts back at such 
 scenes of horror, and cannot but execrate the vile pro 
 moters of this detested war: 
 
 For they, twas they, unsheathed the ruthless blade, 
 And Heaven shall ask the havoc it has made. . 
 
 "The British ship of war Drake, mounting twenty 
 guns, with more than her full complement of officers and 
 men, besides a number of volunteers, came out from 
 Carrickfergus, in order to attack and take the continen 
 tal ship of war Ranger, of eighteen guns, and short of 
 her complememt of officers and men ; the ships met, 
 and the advantage was disputed with great fortitude 
 on each side for an hour and five minutes, when the gal 
 lant commander of the Drake fell, and victory declared 
 in favour of the Ranger. His amiable lieutenant lay 
 mortally wounded, besides near forty of the inferior 
 officers and crew killed and wounded. A melancholy 
 demonstration of the uncertainty of human prospects, 
 I buried them in a spacious grave, with the honours due 
 to the memory of the brave. 
 
 "Though I have drawn my sword in the present gen 
 erous struggle for the rights of man, yet I am in arms 
 merely as an American, nor am I in pursuit of riches. 
 My fortune is liberal enough, having no wife nor family, 
 and having lived long enough to know that riches cannot 
 ensure happiness. I profess myself a citizen of the 
 world, totally unfettered by the little mean distinctions 
 of climate or of country, which diminish the benevo 
 lence of the heart, and set bounds to philanthropy. 
 Before this war began, I had, at an early time of life, 
 withdrawn from the sea-service, in favour of calm con 
 templation and poetic ease. I have sacrificed, not only 
 my favourite scheme of life, but the softer affections of the 
 heart, and my prospects of domestic happiness, and I 
 am ready to sacrifice my life, also, with cheerfulness, if 
 that forfeiture would restore peace and good will among 
 mankind. 
 
 "As the feelings of your gentle bosom cannot, in that 
 respect, but be congenial with mine, let me entreat you. 
 madam, to use your soft pursnasive arts with your hu s- 
 
384 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 band, to endeavour to stop this cruel and destructive 
 war, in which Britain never can succeed. Heaven can 
 never countenance the barbarous and unmanly practi 
 ces of the Britons in America, which savages would 
 blush at, and which, if not discontinued, will soon 
 be retaliated in Britain by a justly enraged people. 
 Should you fail in this, (for I am persuaded you will at 
 tempt it and who can resist the power of such an ad 
 vocate?) your endeavours to effect a general exchange 
 of prisoners will be an act of humanity, which will af 
 ford you golden feelings on a death bed. 
 
 "I hope this cruel contest will soon be closed; but 
 should it continue, I wage no war with the fair! I ac 
 knowledge their power, and bend before it with profound 
 submission! Let not, therefore, the amiable Countess of 
 Selkirk regard me as an enemy; I am ambitious of her 
 esteem, and friendship, and would do any thing, consis 
 tent with my duty, to merit it. 
 
 "The honour of a line from your hand, in answer to 
 this, will lay me under a very singular obligation; and if 
 I can render you any acceptable service, in France or 
 elsewhere, I hope you see into my character so far as 
 to command me without the least grain of service. I 
 wish to know, exactly, the behaviour of my people, as I 
 am determined to punish them if they have exceeded 
 their liberty, 
 
 "I have the honour to be, with much esteem and pro 
 found respect, madam, your most obedient and most 
 humble servant. PA UL JONES. 
 
 "To the Right Hon. the Countess of Selkirk, St. Ma 
 ry s Isle, Scotland." 
 
 During the course of the war, I found it impossible to 
 restore the plate belonging to the Selkirk family; I, 
 however, purchased it at a great price, and at length 
 found means to send it by land from TOrient to Calais, 
 by means of M. de Calonne, who transmitted me a very 
 flattering letter on the occasion; in short I at length re 
 ceived a very flattering letter from the Earl of Selkirk, 
 acknowledging the receipt of it. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 38 5 
 
 I had no sooner arrived at Brest, than Admiral the 
 Count D Orvilliers transmitted an account of rny expe 
 dition to the minister of the marine, in consequence of 
 which it was intimated to Dr. Franklin, that his majesty 
 was desirous that I should repair to Versailles, as he 
 was resolved to employ me on a secret expedition, for 
 which purpose he would give me the Indienne, with some 
 other frigates, with troops, &c. for the purpose of effect 
 ing a descent. I was instantly informed of this by the 
 ambassador, who observed to me, at the same time, that 
 this must be considered as a profound secret, it being of 
 so important a nature, that it had been deemed proper 
 to withhold a communication of it even to his colleagues. 
 
 M. de Sartine received me with the most distinguished 
 politeness, making me, at the same time, the most flat 
 tering promises; and the Prince de Nassau was sent 
 into Holland to give instructions for the necessary 
 arrangements for arming and equipping the frigate 
 intended for me. But, in a short time after this, hos 
 tilities took place between France and England in con 
 sequence of the action with La Belle Poule. This not 
 a little embarrassed the Minister of the Marine, and the 
 difficulty was not diminished by the intelligence brought 
 by the prince, who asserted that the Dutch would not 
 permit the Indienne to be equipped. 
 
 As M. de Sartine had written to the three American 
 ministers, and obtained their consent for my remaining 
 in Europe, I offered to serve on board of the grand fleet; 
 I also communicated several plans for crippling the 
 power of England, such as that of destroying her trade 
 and settlements on the coast of Africa, and in Hudson s 
 Bay; of annihilating their fisheries in Newfoundland; 
 intercepting their East and West India, and, above all, 
 the Baltic fleet, which was escorted by a single frigate, 
 as I learned by certain information from England. The 
 minister adopted the last of these plans; and I accor 
 dingly repaired to Brest, to take the command of one of 
 the frigates of that port, with two others, and a cutter, 
 &c. then at St. Maloes; but I found on my arrival, that 
 the admiral had appointed a French officer to the vessel 
 in question ; and as there was not a single moment t be 
 
 A3 
 
386 JOHN PAUL JONEb. 
 
 lost, the senior officer of the frigate at St. Maloes was 
 despatched against the Baltic fleet, which he missed by 
 not steering sufficiently near to the coast of England t 
 intercept it. 
 
 Being greatly disgusted with a series of delays, that 
 ensued during nine months, I at length repaired to Ver- 
 s.illes, with an intention of returning to America, if I 
 should not immediately obtain a command: for I recol 
 lected the saying of Old Richard, 4 If you wish that 
 your affairs should be prosperous, superintend them in 
 person. &c. This induced me to promise, that if the 
 minister should at length comply with my request, 1 
 should call my own ship, Old Richard. 
 
 Accordingly, on obtaining Le Duras, until a better 
 
 vessel could be procured,! called her . She was 
 
 a very small and very old and infirm vessel, that had 
 made four voyages to the East Indies. As proper guns 
 
 could not be procured at I/Orient, where the 
 
 lay, I repaired first to Bordeaux, and then to Angou- 
 leme, where I made a contract for such as I wanted. 
 On ruy return, I found that the Marquis de La Fayette, 
 who had returned from America, was desirous to join 
 me in the expedition, it being intended that he should 
 command a body of land forces, he having obtained the 
 king s command for that purpose. 
 
 While the necessary arrangements were making at 
 court, a naval commissary purchased at Nantes a mer 
 chantman, called La Pallas of thirty-two eight pounders, 
 and a brig called La Vengeance, of twelve three poun 
 ders; but neither of them was calculated for war: to 
 these was added Le Ccrf, a very fine cutter belonging to 
 the royal navy, carrying eighteen nine pounders; with 
 the Alliance, a new frigate, belonging to the United 
 States: but as the guns had not as yet arrived from 
 Angouleme, The Good Man Richard was armed from an 
 old battery of twelve pounders; and as the expedition 
 was intended against the enemy s ports, I mounted six 
 old eighteen pounders in the gun room, so that she might 
 in some measure be called.a forty gun ship. As it was 
 found impossible to procure a sufficient number of Amer 
 ican sailors, I determined to supply the deficiency by 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 387 
 
 e/nrolling English ones, who happened to be prisoners of 
 war in France; and in addition to these, a certain num 
 ber of peasants was levied; so that we may be said to 
 have had as bad a crew as was ever shipped on board 
 any vessel. I was given to undersand, however, that 
 the chosen body of troops, under the command of the 
 Marquis de la Fayette, would serve as a guarantee for 
 their good conduct; but no sooner was the little squad 
 ron ready, than I received a letter from the Marquis, 
 intimating that, the object of the expedition having been 
 divulged at Paris, the king had issued orders to prevent 
 the embarkation of the troops, in consequence of which 
 he had joined his regiment. 
 
 Thus the project, which was no less than that of put 
 ting Liverpool, the second town in England, under con 
 tribution, failed, in consequence of having been indis 
 creetly communicated to****** 
 
 I ought also to remark, that, according to the first 
 arrangement, my little squadron was to have been joined 
 by two fire-ships, and five hundred men of Walsh s Irish 
 regiment; but the minister did not keep his word ; for he 
 neither procured for me the fire-ships nor the soldiers; 
 so that it became impossible for me to fulfil the plan I 
 had concerted, although it was still more important than 
 that of seizing on Liverpool. 
 
 I now received orders to escort a fleet of transports 
 and merchantmen from L Orient, destined for different 
 ports between that and Bordeaux; and after that I was 
 to chase away the English cruizers from the Bay of 
 Biscay, and then to return for further orders. 
 
 After executing this commission, on my representing 
 how necessary it was to make a diversion in favour of 
 the Count D Orvi.lliers, then cruizing in the Channel, 
 with sixty-six ships of the line, I received tfcarte blanche 
 during six weeks, without any other restriction than that 
 of repairing to the Texel, by the first of October. By 
 this time, I received intimation from England, that eight 
 East Indiamen were soon expected on the coast of Ire 
 land, near to Limerick. This was an object of great 
 attention; and as there were two privateers at Port 
 L Orient, ready for sea, Le Monsieur, of forty guns, and 
 
388 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 Le Granvillc, of fourteen, the captains of which offered 
 to place themselves under my orders, I accepted the 
 proposition. But the French commissary, who superin 
 tended the naval department, acted with great impropri 
 ety on this, as well as on many former occasions. 
 
 The little squadron at length set sail from the road 
 of Groays, on the fourteenth of August, 1779; but we 
 had no sooner proceeded to the north of the mouth of 
 the Channel, than Le Monsieur and Le Granvillc aban 
 doned me during the night, and Le Cerf soon after imita 
 ted their conduct. I was extremely anxious to cruize 
 for a fortnight in the latitude of Limerick; but the cap 
 tain of the Alliance, after objecting to this, also left me 
 during the night; and as I had now with me only the 
 Pallas and the Vengeance, I was obliged to renounce 
 my original intentions. 
 
 I took tyvo prizes on the coast of Ireland; and, within 
 sight of Scotland, came up and seized two privateers, of 
 twenty-two guns each, which, with a brigantine, I sent to 
 Bergen, in Norway, according to the orders I had receiv 
 ed from Dr. Franklin: these prizes, however, were res 
 tored to the English by the king of Denmark. 
 
 When I entered the North Sea, I captured several 
 vessels, and learned by my prisoners, as well as by the 
 newspapers, that the capital of Scotland and the port 
 of Leith were left totally defenceless. I also under 
 stood, at the same time, that my information relative to 
 the eight Indiamen was correct; they having entered 
 Limerick three days after I had been obliged to leave 
 the neighborhood of that port. 
 
 As there was only a twenty gun ship and two cutters 
 in Leith Road, I deemed it practicable to lay those two 
 places under contribution. I had indeed no other force 
 to execute this project than the Richard, the Pallas, and 
 the Vengeance; but I well knew, that in order to per 
 form a brilliant action, it is not always necessary to pos 
 sess great means. I therefore held out the prospect of 
 great booty to the captains under my command; and, as 
 to myself, was satisfied with the idea of making a diver 
 sion in favour of the Count D Orvilliers, who was then in 
 the Channel, 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 389 
 
 I now distributed red clothes to my men, and put 
 some of them on board the prizes, so as to give them 
 the appearance of transports full of troops. All the ne 
 cessary arrangements were also taken to carry the en 
 terprise into execution; but, about a quarter of an hour 
 before the descent was to have been made, a sudden 
 tempest arose, and drove me out of the Forth, or Edin 
 burgh Frith, and so violent was the storm, that one of 
 my prizes was lost. 
 
 This did not, however, deter me, notwithstanding the 
 smallness of rr.y forces, from forming different enterpri 
 ses of a similar nature: but I could not induce the cap 
 tains of the Pallas and Vengeance to second my views; 
 I was therefore obliged to content myself by spreading 
 alarm on the coast, and destroying the shipping, which 
 I did as far as Hull. 
 
 On the morning of the 23d of September, while I was 
 cruizing in the latitude of Flamborough Head, which I 
 had appointed as a place of rendezvous for my little 
 squadron, and where I hoped to be rejoined by the Alli 
 ance and Le Cerf, and also to fall in with the Baltic 
 fleet; this convoy accordingly appeared, at a time when 
 I had been abandoned by several of my consorts, had 
 lost two boats, with their crews, who had run away on 
 the coast of Ireland, and when a third, with eighteen 
 men on board, was in chase of a merchantman to the 
 windward, leaving me with a scanty crew, and only a 
 single lieutenant and some inferior officers on board. 
 
 It was about two o clock in the afternoon that the 
 Baltic fleet appeared in view; I then happened to have 
 the wind of it, and was about two leagues distant from 
 the coast of England. I learned from my prisoners that 
 the convoy was escorted by the Serapis, a new vessel, 
 that could mount fifty-six guns, but then carried only 
 forty-four, on two decks, the lower battery carrying eigh 
 teen pounders, and the Countess of Scarborough, a new 
 twenty-two gun ship. 
 
 We were no sooner descried, than the armed vessels 
 stood out to sea, while the trade took refuge under the 
 cannon of Scarborough castle. 
 
390 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 As there was but little wind, I could not come up 
 with the enemy before night. The moon did not rise un 
 til eight, and at the close of the day the Serapis and 
 Countess of Scarborough tacked and stood in for the 
 fortress. I was lucky enough to discover this manoeuvre 
 by means of my night glass, without which I should have 
 remained in ignorance of it. On this I immediately al 
 tered my course six points, with a view of cutting off 
 the enemy; which was no sooner perceived by the Pal 
 las, than it was supposed my crew had mutinied, which 
 induced her captain to haul his wind and stand out to 
 sea, while the Alliance lay to, to windward, at a consid 
 erable distance; and, as the captain of this vessel had 
 never paid any attention whatever to the signals of the 
 Richard since her leaving France, I was obliged to run 
 all risks, and enter into an action with the Richard only, 
 to prevent the enemy s escape. 
 
 I accordingly began the engagement at 7 o clock at 
 night, within pistol shot of the Serapis, and sustained 
 the brunt of it for nearly a whole hour at that distance, 
 exposed, not only to her fire, but also to that of the 
 Countess of Scarborough, which raked the Richard, by 
 means of the broadsides she fired into her stern. 
 
 It ought to be here remarked, that the Richard, prop 
 erly speaking, was only a thirty-four gun frigate, carry 
 ing only twelve pounders; but six eighteen pounders had 
 been placed in the gun room, in case of being obliged to 
 recur to a cannonade in an enemy s harbour. The sea 
 being very calm during the engagement, I hoped to be 
 able to derive great advantage from this circumstance; 
 but instead of this, they burst at the commencement of 
 the action, and the officers and men posted at this ser 
 vice, and who were selected as the best of the whole 
 crew, were either killed, wounded, or affrighted to such 
 a degree, that none of them were of any service during 
 the rest of the engagement. 
 
 In this unfortunate extremity, having to contend with 
 three times my own strength, the Richard being in immi 
 nent danger of going to the bottom, and her guns being 
 no longer in a condition to return the enemy s fire, I had 
 recourse* to a dangerous expedient, to grapple with the 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 391 
 
 Serapis, in order, on the one hand, to render her superi 
 ority useless, and, on the other, to cover ourselves from 
 the fire of her consort. This manoeuvre succeeded most 
 admirably, and I fastened the Serapis, with my own 
 hands, to the Richard. On this, the captain of the 
 Countess of Scarborough, who was a natural son of the 
 Duke of Northumberland, conducted himself like a man 
 of sense, and from that moment ceased to fire upon us, 
 well knowing that he must at the same time damage the 
 Serapis. 
 
 That vessel being to windward at the moment we 
 had grappled, instantly dropped her anchor, hoping by 
 this to disengage herself from us; but this did not an 
 swer her expectations, and the engagement from that 
 moment consisted of the discharge of great guns, swiv 
 els, musquetry, and grenades. The English at first testi 
 fied a desire to board the Richard, but they no sooner 
 saw the danger than they desisted. The enemy, how 
 ever, possessed the advantage of their two batteries, be 
 sides the guns on their forecastle and quarter-deck, while 
 our cannon was either burst or abandoned, except four 
 pieces on the forecastle, which were also relinquished 
 during some minutes. Mr. Mease, the officer who com 
 manded these guns, had been dangerously wounded on 
 the head, and having, at that period, no greater object 
 to occupy my attention, I myself took his post. A few 
 sailors came to my assistance of their own accord, and 
 served the two guns next to the enemy with surprising 
 courage and address. A short time after this, I received 
 sufficient assistance to be able to remove one of the 
 forecastle guns from the opposite side; but we had not 
 strength sufficient to remove the other, so that we could 
 only bring three guns to bear upon the enemy during the 
 remainder of the action. 
 
 The moon, which, as I have already observed, rose 
 at eight, beheld the two vessels surrounded by flame, in 
 onsequence of the explosion of the cannon. It so hap 
 pened at this period, that the mainmast of the Serapis, 
 which was painted yellow, appeared extremely distinct, 
 so as to form an excellent mark ; on this I pointed one 
 of my guns at it, taking care to ram home the shot. In 
 
392 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 the mean time the two other pieces were admirably 
 
 served against the and swept its forecastle by 
 
 means of an oblique fire. The tops also seconded us 
 bravely, by means of musquetry and swivels, and also 
 threw a multitude of grenades so as greatly to annoy 
 the enemy. By these means they were driven from their 
 quarters, notwithstanding their superiority in point of 
 men and artillery. 
 
 The captain of the Serapis, after consulting with his 
 officers, resolved to strike; but an unlucky accident, 
 which occurred on board the Richard, prevented this: a 
 bullet having destroyed one of our pumps, the carpenter 
 was seized with a panic, and told the gunner, and ano 
 ther petty officer, that we were sinking. Some one ob 
 served at the same time, that both I and the lieutenant 
 were killed; in consequence of which the gunner, con 
 sidering himself as commanding officer, ran instantly to 
 the quarter-deck, in order to haul down the American 
 colors, which he would have actually hauled down, had 
 not the flag-staff been carried away at the time the 
 Richard grappled with the Serapis. 
 
 The captain, on hearing the gunner express his wishes 
 to surrender, in consequence of his supposing that we 
 were sinking, instantly addressed himself to me, and ex 
 claimed, "Do you ask for quarter? Do you ask for quar 
 ter?" I was so occupied, at this period, in serving the 
 three pieces of cannon on the forecastle, that I remain 
 ed totally ignorant of what had occurred on deck ; I re 
 plied, however, "I do not dream of surrendering, but I am 
 determined to make you strike!" 
 
 The English Commander, however, conceived some 
 faint hopes, in consequence of what had been said, that 
 the Richard was actually sinking; but when he perceiv 
 ed that her fire did not diminish, he immediately order 
 ed his men from the forecastle, where they were too 
 much exposed, and stationed them below, where they 
 jcept up such a tremendous discharge against the Rich 
 ard, that it at once indicated vengeance and despair. 
 
 It has already been observed, that when I commenced 
 the action the Pallas was at a great distance to wind* 
 ward, while the Alliance lay to in the same position. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 393 
 
 When the captain of the former perceived that the 
 engagement took place, he spoke to his consort; but they 
 lost a great deal of time, and it was not until now, that 
 they came within gun shot of the Countess of Scarbo 
 rough, and a kind of running fight took place between 
 the latter and the Pallas. The Alliance followed them, 
 and on passing us, fired a broadside, which, as we were 
 closely engaged with the enemy, did no more harm to 
 them than to us. 
 
 The battle still continued with uncommon ardour be 
 tween us and the enemy, whose or burned, and 
 
 her main-mast cut away, by degrees, by our bullets; 
 while the heavier metal of the Serapis drove in one of 
 the sides of my ship, and met with little or no resistance. 
 la short, our helm was rendered useless, and the poop 
 was only supported by an old and shattered piece of 
 timber, which alone prevented it from giving way. 
 
 At length, after a short engagement, the countess of 
 Scarborough surrendered to the Pallas; it was then that 
 the captain of the latter asked the commander of the 
 Alliance, "whether he would take charge of the prize, 
 or sail and give succour to the commodore?" On this, 
 the Alliance began to stand backward and forward un 
 der her topsails, until having got to the windward, she 
 came down, and discharged a second broadside against 
 the fore-part of the Serapis, and the hind-part of the 
 Richard. On this I and several other persons begged 
 for God s sake, that they would cease firing, and send a 
 few men on board of us: but he disobeyed, and fired 
 another broadside as he passed along: after which he 
 kept at a most respectful distance, and took great care 
 not to expose himself during the remainder of the action, 
 without receiving a single shot, or having a man wound 
 ed during the whole engagement. 
 
 The idea that we were sinking had taken such posses 
 sion of the armourer s mind, that he actually opened the 
 scuttles, and made all the prisoners, to the number of a 
 hundred, sally forth, in opposition to my reiterated orders. 
 This event might have proved fatal, had I not taken ad 
 vantage of their affright to station them at the pumps, 
 where they displayed surprising zeal, appearing actually 
 
 B 3 
 
394 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 to forget their captivity ; for there was nothing to prevent 
 their going on board the Senipis; or, it was in their 
 power to put an end to the engagement in an instant, by 
 either killing me, or throwing me into the sea. 
 
 As our three quarter-deck guns continued to play 
 without interruption on the enemy, raked her hinder 
 parts, and damaged her mast in such a manner, that it 
 was only supported from falling by the yards of our ship, 
 while the tops poured in a continual discharge; the fire 
 of the English began to deaden in such a manner as to 
 bereave them of all hope of success. 
 
 A circumstance, however, occurred that contributed 
 not a little to the victory of the Richard: this was the 
 extraordinary intrepidity and presence of mind of a 
 Scotch sailor, posted in the main-top; this brave fellow, 
 of his own accord, seized a lighted match, and a basket 
 of hand-grenades, with which he advanced along the 
 main-yard, until he had arrived exactly above the ene 
 my s deck. As the flames of their parapets and shrouds 
 added to the light of the moon, enabled him to distin 
 guish objects, the moment he perceived two or three 
 persons assembled together, he instantly discharged a 
 hand grenade among them ; he had even address enough 
 to drop several through their scuttles, and one of them 
 set fire to the cartridge of an eighteen pounder belonging 
 to the lower deck, the discharge of which scorched sev 
 eral of the crew. 
 
 On this, the captain of the Serapis came upon the 
 quarter-deck, lowered his flag, and asked for quarters, 
 at the very moment his main-mast had fallen into the 
 sea. He then came on board, with his officers, and pre 
 sented me with his sword. While this was transacting, 
 eight or ten men belonging to the Richard seized on 
 the Serapis s shallop, which had been at anchor during 
 the engagement, and made off. 
 
 It was more than eleven o clock when the battle end 
 ed; it had consequently lasted more than four hours. 
 My ship had no more than 322 men, good, bad, and in 
 different, on board, at the commencement of the engage 
 ment; and the sixty of these, posted in the gun-room 
 when the gun burst, having been of no further service 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 Curing the action, could not properly be considered as 
 forming part of the crew opposed to the Serapis, which 
 had received a supply of English sailors, while in Den 
 mark; and it appeared, indeed, by the muster-roll, that 
 there were upwards of 400 on board of her, when the 
 first gun was fired. Her superiority was still more con 
 siderable in respect to guns, without mentioning her 
 greater weight in metrtl, which surpassed ours beyond 
 all comparison. Thus, setting aside the damage done 
 by the Countess of Scarborough, during the fore part of 
 the action, and also by three broad-sides from the Alli 
 ance, it will be easy to form a due judgment of the com 
 bat between the Richard and the Serapis, and set a 
 proper value on a victory obtained over a force so great- 
 Jy superior, after such a long, bloody, and close engage 
 ment. 
 
 The Vengeance, a corvette, mounting twelve three 
 pounders, and the boat belonging to the pilot, with my 
 second lieutenant, another officer, and ten men, would 
 have been of singular service, either in pursuing and 
 capturing the convoy, or by reinforcing me : but, strange 
 as it may appear, the fact is, that they remained all this 
 time mere, spectators of the action, in which they took 
 no interest, keeping themselves to windward, and out of 
 all danger ; while, on the oiher hand, the conduct of the 
 Alliance had, at least, the appearance of proceeding 
 from a principle worse than ignorance or insubordina 
 tion. 
 
 It must appear clear, from what has been already 
 said, that if the enemy s ports were not annoyed, the 
 Baltic fleet taken, and the eight Indiamen seized, the 
 blame did not lie with me. 
 
 It is but justice, however, to observe that some of my 
 officers conducted themselves admirably during the ac 
 tion. The lieutenant, Mr. Dale, being left alone at the 
 guns below, and finding he could not rally his men, 
 came upon deck, and superintended the working of the 
 pumps, notwithstanding he had been wounded. Not 
 withstanding all his efforts, the hold was more than half 
 full of water when the enemy surrendered. 
 
396 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 During the last three hours of the action both the ves 
 sels were on fire; by throwing water on the flames, it 
 was sometimes supposed that they were quenched, but 
 they always broke forth anew, and, on the close of the 
 action we imagined it wholly extinguished. It was very 
 calm during the remainder of the night; but, when the 
 wind began to blow, our danger became imminent, the 
 lire having penetrated the timbers, and spread until it 
 had reached within a few inches of the powder maga 
 zine. On this, the ammunition-was brought on the deck, 
 to be thrown in the sea, in case of extremity; but we, at 
 length, succeeded in our endeavours, by cutting away a 
 few planks, and employing our buckets. 
 
 Next morning the weather was hazy, and not a sail 
 to be seen. We then examined the Richard to see if 
 it were possible to carry her into any port. This pro 
 ving wholly impracticable, all the boats were employed 
 in carrying the wounded on board the other vessels. 
 This occupied much of our time, and on the succeeding 
 day, notwithstanding all our pumps had been at work, 
 the hold was entirely full of water, and the vessel soon 
 after sunk. On this occasion I could only save the sig 
 nal flags, and I lost all my property, amounting to more 
 than 5,000 livres. 
 
 On this I instantly assumed the command of the Se- 
 rapis, on which we erected jury masts; but the sea was 
 so tempestuous that it was ten days before we reached 
 the Texel. 
 
 No sooner was my arrival known than forty-two ves 
 sels, forming different squadrons of frigates, were fitted 
 out from the various ports in Great Britain against me, 
 and two of these were stationed during three months at 
 the mouths of the Texel and the Fly. My situation in 
 Holland influenced not a little the conduct of the belli 
 gerent powers, at the same time that it excited the at 
 tention of all Europe. The English minister at the 
 Hague addressed different memorials to the states gen 
 eral, in all which he insisted that the Serapis and the 
 Countess of Scarborough "should be delivered up to the 
 king, his master;" and he, at the same time, claimed me 
 under the appellation of "the Scotch pirate." 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 397 
 
 Instead of listening to these propositions, the states 
 general permitted me to land my wounded on the island 
 of the Texel, which was delivered up to me for that 
 purpose; on this the British government became furiou5, 
 and Holland was reduced to so critical a situation, that 
 the states were under the necessity of insisting that I 
 should either leave the Texel, or produce a commission 
 from his most Christian majesty, and hoist the French 
 flag. 
 
 The prince of Orange, who was attached to the En 
 glish interest, sent the Vine- Admiral Rhynst, who was 
 also English in his heart, to assume the command of the 
 Dutch squadron in the Texel, composed of thirteen two- 
 deckers. This officer drew up his squadron, during six 
 weeks, in such a manner as to menace us; and, in short, 
 did every thing in his power to render my situation both 
 dangerous and disagreeable. 
 
 In the mean time 1 had an interview with the Duke 
 de la Vanguyon, at Amsterdam, who intimated to me, 
 that it was the intention of the king of France that I 
 should hoist his flag during my stay in the Texel, as he 
 imagined that my prizes would assuredly fall into the 
 enemy s hands if I tried to escape. I, however, refused 
 this honor, as I had declared myself an American offi 
 cer, and had given a copy of my commission from con 
 gress to the Dutch admiral. It was contrived, however, 
 at length that I should go on board the frigate Alliance, 
 the captain of which had been sent to Paris, to give an 
 account of his conduct, and where I should still carry 
 my former colors, while the prizes should hois^t the 
 French flag. 
 
 At length the wind becoming favorable, on the 27th 
 of February, 1779, the Alliance set sail, after having 
 lost all her anchors, one only excepted, in consequence 
 of Admiral Rhynst s instructions to the pilot; and it 
 was at least an hundred to one, that we should fall in 
 with the enemy. I, however, had the good fortune to 
 escape, although the Alliance passed the Straits of Do 
 ver, within sight of the English squadron in the Downs. 
 After getting clear of the Channel, I soon reached the 
 latitude of Cape Finisterre, and catered the port of Co- 
 runna, January 16, 1780. 
 
398 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 On my return to France, I found that the French eero* 
 missary had made a private sale of my prizes to the 
 king without consulting me. On this I repaired to Ver- 
 sailes, along with Dr. Franklin, but was received with 
 great coolness by the minister of the marine. On this 
 account I declined asking him to present me to his ma 
 jesty. This honor was conferred on me next day by the 
 Prince de Beauvo, captain of the guards. The public 
 received me at the opera, and all the public places 
 where I appeared, with the most lively enthusiasm; this 
 added to the very favorable reception I received from 
 his majesty, afforded me singular satisfaction: and the 
 minister of the marine from that moment paid me the 
 most marked attention. 
 
 The Count de Maurepas about this time intimated to 
 me, that his majesty had resolved to confer some distin 
 guished mark of his bounty and personal esteem on me; 
 this proved to be a sword, mounted with gold, on which 
 was engraven the following flattering motto: - 
 
 VINDICATI MARIS 
 
 LUDOVICUS XVI. REMUNERATOR 
 
 STRENUO VIJs 7 DlCI. 
 
 The hilt was of gold, and the blade, &c. were embla 
 zoned with his majesty s arms, the attributes of war, 
 and an emblematical representation of the alliance be 
 tween France and America. The most Christian king, 
 at the same time, transmitted a most admirable letter to 
 congress, in which he offered to decorate me with the 
 order of military merit. All this was extremely flatter 
 ing, as Louis XVI. had never presented a sword to any 
 other officer, and never conferred the cross, except on 
 such officers as were invested with his majesty s com 
 mission. 
 
 The minister of the marine, a short time after this, 
 lent me the Ariel, a king s ship, carrying twenty guns, 
 with which I sailed, October 8th, 1780, for America. 
 The wind was at first favorable; but I was soon after 
 in danger of foundering on the Penmarks and escaped 
 only by cutting away my main and mizen masts. As 
 soon as the storm abated, we erected jury masts, and 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 399 
 
 returned to refit; in short it was the 18th of December 
 before I could proceed for Philadelphia. 
 
 During the voyage, I fell in with an English twenty 
 gun ship, called the Triumph, and partly by stratagem, 
 and partly by hard fighting, forced her to strike her flag; 
 but while we were about to take possession of her, the 
 Captain, taking advantage of her superior sailing, made 
 off anJ escaped. 
 
 On my arrival in America, the congress, on the rep 
 resentation of the Chevalier De la Luzerne, passed a 
 law to enable me to accept the military order of France. 
 The French minister, on this occasion, gave an enter 
 tainment, to which all the members of congress, and the 
 principal inhabitants of Philadelphia, were invited; 
 after which I was invested, in their presence, with the 
 decorations of the order. 
 
 As the three ministers plenipotentiary from America 
 had unfortunately disagreed, it necessarily follows that 
 there would be some contradiction in respect to their 
 reports concerning me. In consequence of this, the 
 congress enjoined the admiralty to inquire into the 
 nature of my connexion with the court of France, and 
 the reasons which had induced me to remain in Europe, 
 and delay the convoy of the military stores appertain 
 ing to the United States. In consequence of the exam 
 ination that ensued, and the report that was delivered 
 in, the congress passed an act, dated April 14, 1781, in 
 which I was thanked, in the most flattering manner, 4 for 
 the zeal, the prudence, and the intrepidity, with which I 
 had sustained the honour of the American flag; for my 
 bold and successful enterprises, with a view to redeem 
 from captivity the citizens of America, who had fallen 
 into the power of the English, and for the eminent ser 
 vices by which I had added lustre to my own character 
 and the arms of America. A committee of congress 
 was also of opinion, that I deserved a gold medal in 
 remembrance of my services. 
 
 On the 21st of June, 1781,1 was appointed, by an 
 unanimous vote of congress, to the command of the 
 America, a seventy-four gun ship, then building; and on 
 the birth of the Dauphin, I. at my own expense, cele- 
 
400 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 brated that happy event by royal salutes during the day, 
 and a brilliant illumination in the evening, accompanied 
 by fire-works. 
 
 An unfortunate accident, soon after this, deprived me 
 of the command of that fine vessel ; for the JUagnifique, 
 of 74 guns, belonging to the Marquis de Vaudreuil s 
 fleet, happening to be lost at Boston, the congress seized 
 on this occasion to testify its gratitude to his most Chris 
 tian majesty, by presenting him with the America to 
 replace her. 
 
 In the mean time, it was resolved to place a French 
 frigate rindienne, with two or three armed vessels under 
 my orders, in order to seize on Bermudas; but, as this 
 was never put into execution, I applied to congress for 
 leave to serve on board the fleet of the Count d Estaing, 
 then destined for an expedition against Jamaica. 
 
 The Marquis de Vaudreuil received me with great 
 distinction on board his own ship, the Triumphant, where 
 I occupied the same cabin as the Baron de Viomenil. 
 who commanded the land forces. When we were 
 within sight of Porto Rico, intelligence was received, 
 that Admirals Pigot and Hood were preparing to inter 
 cept us; and as Don Solano, with the Spanish fleet, did 
 not meet us at Porto Cabello, according to his promise, 
 many of the officers, becoming disgusted with the en 
 terprise, fell sick, and I myself was in a dangerous state; 
 but we were relieved from our disagreeable situation, 
 by intelligence from Europe that a general peace had 
 taken place. This circumstance afforded me great 
 pleasure; as 1 now learned that Great Britain, after a 
 long and bloody contest, had been forced to recognise 
 the sovereignty and independence of the United States 
 of America. 
 
 On this, we repaired to St. Domingo, where I received 
 every possible mark of esteem from Mr. De Bellecomb, 
 the governor; after a short stay, I embarked for Phila 
 delphia, penetrated with gratitude for the various marks 
 of esteem I had received from all the French officers, 
 during the five months 1 had been on board his majesty s 
 squadron. 
 
JOHN BAKRY. 401 
 
 I was unable to re-establish my health, during the 
 rest of the summer, which I spent in Pennsylvania; and 
 I did not get well until the autumn, when I recovered by 
 means of the cold bath. 
 
 I then demanded permission to return to Europe, on 
 purpose to recover the prize money due to myself, officers 
 and sailors, which was granted me by an act of congress, 
 dated at Prince-Town, November 1, 1783. 
 
 On this, 1 embarked at Philadelphia, on board a pack 
 et boat destined for Havre de Grace; but being forced 
 into Plymouth by contrary winds, I took post-horses for 
 London, and then set out for Paris, and was received 
 with great cordiality by the ministry. 
 
 I laving at length received from the court of France 
 the amount of the prizes, I returned to America on hoard 
 a French packet-boat. 
 
 JOHN BARRY, 
 
 Commodore ia the American Nayy. 
 
 "THE father of the commodore was a respectable far 
 mer in the county of VVexford, Ireland, where his son, 
 the subject of this memoir, was born, in the year 1745. 
 After having received the first elements of an English 
 education, to gratify his particular inclination for the 
 sea, his father entered him into the merchant service. 
 When about fifteen years of age, he arrived ia Pennsyl 
 vania, and selected it as the country of his future resi 
 dence. \N ith the circumstances which induced him to 
 leave his native land, and take up his abode in a foreign 
 country, we are not acquainted. Of this, however, we 
 are certain, that tiiey cannot have been, in the least, 
 injurious to his character; as we find that in the capitol 
 of the British provinces, in the northern section of the 
 wegtern hemisphere, he was, for a number of years, in 
 the employment of many of the most respectable mer 
 chants, of whose unlimited confidence he ever retained 
 the full possession. Among the many gentlemen in 
 whose service he was, Messrs. Meredith, Welling and 
 Morris, and Nixon, stand most conspicuous. The ship 
 Black Prince, a very valuable vessel, belonging to Mr. 
 
 C3 
 
402 JOHN BARKY. 
 
 Nixon, engaged in the London trade, was commanded 
 by him, at the commencement of the American Revolu 
 tion; but was shortly after purchased by Congress, and 
 converted into a vessel of war. 
 
 In reviewing the causes which led to hostilities 
 between Great Britain and her colonies, Barry was sat 
 isfied that justice was on the side of the latter, lie 
 therefore engaged under the banners of freedom, and re 
 solved to devote his best exertions to the emancipation 
 of the colonies from the thraldom of the mother country. 
 Confiding in his patriotism, congress, in February 
 1776, a few months prior to the declaration of indepen 
 dence, appointed him commander of the brig Lexington, 
 of sixteen guns, and his was the first continental vessel, 
 which sailed from the port of Philadelphia. His era 
 ses were successful. Congress had caused to be built 
 three large frigates, one of which was called the Efti-ng- 
 7iam, to the command of which he was appointed im 
 mediately after that memorable a3ra, which gave to ihe 
 United States a name among the nations of the world. 
 During the following winter, as his naval employment 
 became nugatory, in consequence of the inclemency of 
 the weather, he, from an averson to inactivity, became a 
 volunteer aid, in that season of peril, to the intrepid Gen. 
 Cadvvallader. 
 
 The city of Philadelphia, and forts on the Delaware 
 fell into the. hands of the British, in the following year, 
 1777; and Commodore Barry, with several vessels of 
 \var, made good his retreat up the river, as far as White- 
 hill, where, however, they were afterward destroyed by 
 the enemy. 
 
 Prior to the destruction of these vessels, he success 
 fully employed those under his command in annoying the 
 enemy, and cutting off the supplies. 
 
 After the destruction of the American squadron, and 
 soon after the capture of Philadelphia, he was appoint 
 ed to command the Raleigh, of thirty-two guns, which, 
 on a cruise, was inn on shore by a British squadron on 
 Fox Island, in Penobscot Bay. 
 
 Subsequent to the above disasters, he commanded a 
 vessel commissioned with letters of marque and repri 
 sal, and engaged in the West India trade for some time. 
 
JOHN BARRY. 402 
 
 When congress concluded to build a 74 gun ship in 
 New-Hampshire, he was ordered to command her. It 
 WHS, however, afterward determined to make a present 
 oi this vessel to his most Christian majesty, when that 
 august body gave him the command of the Alliance 
 frigate. 
 
 The situation of American affairs becoming impor 
 tant, in a foreign point of view, Col. John Laurens, of 
 South Carolina, son of Henry Laurens, then a prisoner in 
 the Tower of London, was ordered to France on a spe 
 cial mission. Commodore Barry sailed in the Alliance 
 from Boston for L Orient, in February, 1781, having the 
 minister extraordinary and suit on board. After landing 
 the ambassador and suite at L*Orient,in the early part 
 of the same year, the Alliance sailed on a cruise. 
 
 On the 29th of May following, at day-light, Commo 
 dore Barry discovered a ship and a brig on his weather- 
 bow, appearing afterward to wear the British flag. He 
 consequently prepared for immediate action. The 
 British ship proved to be the Atalanta, Captain Ed 
 wards, of between twenty and thirty guns, and the brig 
 Treposa, Captain Smith. An action shortly commenced, 
 and by three, P. M. both vessels struck. Barry was 
 wounded early in the engagement; but notwithstanding 
 his sufferings, in consequence of this casualty, he still 
 remained on deck, and it was owing to his intrepidity 
 and presence of mind, that the Alliance was the victor. 
 
 On December 25, 1781, he sailed in the Alliance for 
 France, from Boston, having on board the Marquis de 
 la Fayette, and Count de Noailles, who were desirous of 
 going to their country, on business of the highest impor 
 tance. He had scarcely arrived at his destined port, 
 (L Orient,) than he sailed in February, 1782, on a cruise, 
 during which he fell in with an enemy s ship of equal 
 size, and had a severe engagement. The enemy would 
 have been captured, had it not been for two consorts,, 
 which, however, were kept at a distance during the ac 
 tion, by a French fifty gun ship, which hove in sight. 
 The continental ship Luzerne, of twenty guns, had her 
 guns thrown overboard before the battle began, in order 
 to facilitate her escape, as she had a quantity of specie. 
 
404 JOHN BARRY. 
 
 on board from Havanna,for the use of the United States 
 The captain of the British frigate, who was soon after 
 advanced to be vice-admiral of the red, acknowledged 
 that lie had never received a more severe flagellation 
 than on this occasion, although it seemed to have had 
 the appearance of a drawn battle. 
 
 During the time that General Lord Howe was the 
 British commander in chief, he attempted to alienate 
 the commodore from the cause which he had so ardently 
 espoused, by an offer of 20,000 guineas, and the com 
 mand of the best frigate in the British navy; but he 
 rejected the offer with scorn. The return of peace, 
 however, in the year 1783, put an end to all such dis 
 honourable propositions, and our commodore returned to 
 private life. 
 
 In the treaty of Paris, 1783, there was an article pro 
 hibiting the United Slates from building vessels of war 
 during the term of twelve years. At the expiration of 
 this limitation, however, our government conceived 
 themselves to be on the eve of a war with Great Britain, 
 in consequence of the celebrated corn order of the privy 
 council of 1793, for the avowed purpose of starving 
 France, and the subsequent aggressions on American 
 commerce. These apprehensions gave birth to a law 
 for creating a navy, to the command of which Commo 
 dore Barry was designed. The treaty of 1795, howev 
 er, prevented the law from being carried into full execu 
 tion, although Mr. Barry, in consequence of that law, 
 was retained in service. 
 
 That the United States were under great obligations 
 to France for the aid she lent them, during their strug 
 gle for liberty and independence, is a fact which few 
 will deny; and the extent of these obligations was fully 
 expressed in the treaty between the two countries in 
 177JJ. It was, therefore, a matter of surprise to many, 
 who have not, till this day, called in question the integ 
 rity of the illustrious man, who then directed the desti 
 nies of our nation, to find that lie had issued a procla 
 mation, enjoining a strict neutrality, as if no compact 
 between the two governments had ever existed. He 
 was, however, unquestionably actuated by the purest 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 405 
 
 motive, and must have thought that the steps which he 
 had taken would promote the interest of his country. 
 
 In 1797, it was deemed proper by the American gov 
 ernment, from some cause not generally known, or expli- 
 citlv avowed, to annul the consular convention with 
 France; the pretext for which was French aggression 
 on the American commerce. During the maritime dis 
 turbance thus created between the two countries, Mr. 
 Barry was actively engaged in protecting the commerce 
 of his adopted country, and was held in the highest es 
 timation by his nautical brethren. When this dispute 
 was at last satisfactorily adjusted, a law was passed, 
 during the last year of Mr. Adams s administration, for 
 reducing the navy ; in consequence of which the vessel 
 he commanded was laid up in ordinary, and he once 
 more returned to pivate life. 
 
 Bold, brave, and enterprising, he was, at the same 
 time, humane and generous. He was a good citizen, 
 and greatly esteemed by all who had the pleasure of his 
 acquaintance. His person was above the ordinary size, 
 graceful and commanding; his deportment dignified, and 
 his countenance expressive. 
 
 He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th of September, 
 1803, and a vast concourse of his fellow-citizens testified 
 their respect to his memory, by attending his remains to 
 the silent grave."* 
 
 NICHOLAS BIDDLE, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "CAPTAIN BIDDLE was born in the city of Philadel 
 phia, in the year 1750. Among the brave men who 
 perished in the glorious struggle for the independence of 
 America, Capt. Biddle holds a distinguished rank. His 
 services and the high expectations raised by his military 
 genius and gallantry, have left a strong impression of 
 his merit, and a profound regret that his early fate 
 should have disappointed so soon the hopes of his 
 country. 
 
 * Wilson s Amer. Biography. 
 
406 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 Very early in life he manifested a partiality for the 
 sea, and before the age of fourteen he had nmde a voyage 
 to Quebec. In the following year, 1765, he sailed from 
 Philadelphia to Jamaica, and the Bay of Honduras. 
 The vessel left the Bay in the latter end of December, 
 1765, bound to Antigua, and on the second day of Jan. 
 in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away, on a shoal, 
 called the Northern Triangles. After remaining two 
 nights and a day upon the wreck, the crew took to their 
 yawl, the long-boat having been. lost, and with great 
 difficulty and hazard, landed on one of the small unin- 
 haoited islands, about three leagues distant from the 
 reef, upon which they struck. Here they staid a few 
 davs. Some provisions were procured from the wreck, 
 and their boats was refitted. As it was too small to 
 carry them all off, they drew lots to determine who 
 should remain, and young Biddle was among the number. 
 He. and his three companions, suffered extreme hard 
 ships for want of provisions and good water; and, al 
 though various efforts were made for their relief, it was 
 .nearly two months before they succeeded. 
 
 Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the com 
 mencement of his career, would have discouraged a 
 youth of ordinary enterprise and perseverance. On him 
 it produced no such effect. The coolness and prompti 
 tude with which he acted, in the midst of perils that 
 alarmed the eldest seamen, gave a sure presage of the 
 force of his character, and after he had returned home, 
 he made several European voyages, in which he ac 
 quired a thorough knowledge of seamanship. 
 
 In the year 1770, when a war between Great Britain 
 and Spain was expected, in consequence of the dispute 
 relative to Falkland s Island, he went to London, in or 
 der to enter into the British navy. He took with him 
 letters of recommendation from Thomas Willing, Esq. 
 to his brother-in-law, Capt. Sterling, on board of whose 
 ship he served for some time as a midshipman. The 
 dispute with Spain being accommodated he intended to 
 leave the navy, but was persuaded by Capt. Sterling to 
 remain in the service, promising that he would use all 
 his interest to get him promoted. His ardent mind. 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE, 407 
 
 however, cenld not rest satisfied with the inactivity of 
 his situation, which he was impatient to change for one 
 more suited to his disposition. 
 
 In the year 1773, a voyage of discovery was underta 
 ken, at the request of the Royal Society, in order to 
 ascertain how far navigation was practicable towards 
 the North Pole, to advance the discovery of a north-west 
 passage into the south seas, and to make such astro 
 nomical observations as might prove serviceable to nav 
 igation. 
 
 Two vessels, the Race Horse and Carcase were fitted 
 out for the expedition, the command of which was given 
 to Capt. Phipps, afterward Lord Mulgrave. The pe 
 culiar dangers to which such an undertaking was expo 
 sed, induced the government to take extraordiny pre 
 cautions in fitting out arid preparing the vessels, and 
 selecting the crews, and a positive order was issued that 
 no boys should be received on board. 
 
 To the bold and enterprising spirit of young Biddle, 
 such an expedition had great attractions. Extremely 
 anxious to join it, he endeavored to procure Captain 
 Sterling s permission for that purpose, but he was unwil 
 ling to part with him, and would not consent to let him 
 go. The temptation was, however, irresistible. Here- 
 solved to go, and laying aside his uniform, he entered on 
 board the Carcase before the mast. When he first 
 went on board, he was observed by a seaman who had 
 known him before and was very much attached to him. 
 The honest fellow, thinking that he must have been de 
 graded and turned before the mast in disgrace, was 
 greatly affected at seeing him, but he was equally sur 
 prised and pleased when he learned the true cause of 
 the young officer s disguise, and he kept his secret 
 as he was requested to do. Impel ed by the same 
 spirit, young Horatio, afterward Lord Nelson, has so 
 licited and obtained permission to enter on board 
 the same vessel. These youthful adventurers are both 
 said to have been appointed cockswains, a station al 
 ways assigned to the most active and trusty seamen. 
 The particulars of this expedition are well known to the 
 public. These intripid navigators penetrated as far as 
 
408 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 the latitude of eighty-one degrees and thirty-nine min 
 utes, and they were at one time enclosed with moun 
 tains of ice, and their vessels rendered almost immovea- 
 ble for five days, at the hazard of instant destruction. 
 Capt. Biddle kept a journal of his voyage, which was 
 afterward lost with him. 
 
 The commencement of the revolution gave a new- 
 turn to his pursuits, and he repaired, without delay, to 
 the standard of his country. When a rupture between 
 England and America appeared inevitable, he returned 
 to Philadelphia, and soon after his arrival, he was ap 
 pointed to the command of the Camden galley, fitted for 
 the defence of the Delaware. He found this too inac 
 tive a service, and when the fleet was preparing, under 
 Commodore Hopkins, for an expedition against New- 
 Providence, he applied for a command in the fleet, and 
 was immediately appointed commander of the Andrew 
 Doria, a brig of 14 guns and 130 men. Paul Jones, who 
 was then a lieutenant, and was going on the expedition, 
 was distinguished by Captain Biddle, and introduced to 
 his friends as an officer of merit. 
 
 Before he sailed from the Capes of Delaware, an in 
 cident occurred, which marked his personal intrepidity. 
 Hearing that two deserters from his vessel were at Lew- 
 istown in prison, an officer was sent on shore for them, 
 but he returned with information that the two men, with 
 some others, had armed themselves, barricadoed the 
 door, and swore they would not be taken; that the mili 
 tia of the town had been sent for, but were afraid to 
 open the door, the prisoners threatening to shoot the 
 first man who entered. Captain Biddle immediately 
 went to the prison, accompanied by a midshipman, and 
 calling to one of the deserters, whose name wasGreen, a 
 stout, resolute fellow, ordered him to open the door; he 
 replied that he would not, and if he attempted toenter he 
 would shoot him. He then ordered the door to be forced, 
 entering singly, with a pistol in each hand, he called to 
 Green, who was prepared to fire, and said, "Now Green, 
 if you do not take good airn,youare a dead man." Daun 
 ted by his manner, their resolution failed, and the militia 
 Doming, secured them. They afterward declared to the 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 409 
 
 officer who furnishes this account, that it was Captain 
 Biddle s look and manner which had awed them into 
 submission, for that they had determined to kill him as 
 soon as he came into the room. 
 
 Writing from the Capes to his brother, the late Judge 
 Biddle, he says, "I know not what may be our fate: be 
 it, however, what it may, you may rest assured, I will 
 never cause a blush on the cheeks of my friends or 
 countrymen." Soon after they sailed, the small-pox 
 broke out and raged with great violence in the fleet^ 
 which was manned chiefly by New-England seaman. 
 The humanity of Captain Biddle, always prompt and 
 active, was employed on this occasion to alleviate the 
 general distress, by all the means in his own power. 
 His own crew, which was from Philadelphia, being se 
 cure against the distemper, he took on board great 
 numbers of the sick from the other vessels. Every part 
 of his vessel was crowded, the long-boat was fitted for 
 their accommodation, and he gave up his own cot to a 
 young midshipman, on whom he bestowed the greatest 
 attention till his death. In the mean while he slept 
 himself upon the lockers, refusing the repeated solicata- 
 tions of his officers, to accept their births. On their 
 arrival at New-Providence, it surrendered without op 
 position. The crew of the Andrew Dona, from their 
 crowded situation, became sick, and before she left 
 Providence, there were not men enough, capable of doing 
 duty, to man the boats; Captain Biddle visited them 
 every day, and ordered every necessary refreshment, 
 but they continued sickly until they arrived at New- 
 London. 
 
 After refitting at New-London, Captain Biddle re 
 ceived orders to proceed off the banks of Newfoundland^ 
 in order to intercept the transports and store ships bound 
 to Boston. Before he reached the banks, he captured 
 two ships from Scotland, with 400 highland troops on 
 board, destined for Boston. At this time the Andrew 
 Doria had not 100 men. Lieutenant Josiah, a brave 
 and excellent officer, was put on board one of the prizes, 
 with ail the highland officers, and ordered to make the 
 first port. Unfortunately, about ten days afterward, he 
 
 D3 
 
4JU NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 was taken by the Cerberus frigate, and, on pretence of 
 his being an Englishman, he was ordered to do duty, and 
 extremely ill used. Captain Biddle, hearing of the ill 
 treatment of Lieutenant Josiah, wrote to "the admiral at 
 New-York, that, however disagreeable it was to him. he 
 would treat a young man of family, believed to be a son 
 of Lord Crasion, who was then his prisoner, in the 
 manner they treated Lieutenant Josiah. 
 
 He also applied to his own government in behalf of 
 this injured officer, and by the proceedings of congress, 
 on the 7th of August, 1776, it appears, "that a letter 
 from Captain Nicholas Biddle to the marine committee, 
 was laid before congress and read : whereupon. Resolved, 
 That General Washington he directed to propose an 
 exchange of Lieutenant Josiah ; for a lieutenant of the 
 navy of Great Britain: that the general remonstrate to 
 Lord Howe on the cruel treatment Lieutenant Josiah 
 has met with, of which the congress have received un 
 doubted information." Lieutenant Josiah was exchang 
 ed, after an imprisonment of ten months. After the 
 capture of the ships with the Highlanders, such was 
 Captain Biddle s activity and success in taking prizes, 
 that when he arrived in the Delaware, he had but five 
 of the crew with which he sailed from New-London, 
 the rest having been distributed among the captured 
 vessels, and their places supplied by men who had en 
 tered from the prizes. He had a great number of pris 
 oners, so that, for some days before he got in, he never 
 left the deck. 
 
 While he was thus indefatigably engaged in weaken 
 ing the enemy s power, and advancing his country s in 
 terest, he was disinterested and generous in all that 
 related to his private advantage. The brave and wor 
 thy opponent, whom the chance of war had thrown in 
 his power, found in him a patron and a friend, who, on 
 more than one occasion, was known to restore to the 
 vanquished the fruits of victory. 
 
 In the latter end of the year 1776, Captain Biddle 
 was appointed to the command of the Randolph, a 
 frigate of thirty-two guns. With his usual activity, he 
 employed every exertion to get her ready for sea. The 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE, 411 
 
 difficulty of procuring American seamen at that time 
 obliged him, in order to man his ship, to take a number 
 of British seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who 
 had requested leave to enter. 
 
 The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia, in February, 
 1777. Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were 
 discovered to be unsound, and, in a heavy gale of wind, 
 all her masts went by the board. While they were 
 bearing away for Charleston, the English sailors, with 
 some others of the crew, formed a design to take the 
 ship. When all was ready, they gave three cheers on 
 the gun-deck. By the decided and resolute conduct of 
 Capt. Biddle and his officers, the ringleaders were seized 
 and punished, and the rest submitted without farther re 
 sistance. After refitting at Charleston as speedily as 
 possible, he sailed on a cruise, and three days after he 
 left the bar, he fell in with four sail of vessels bound 
 from Jamaica to London. One of them, called the 
 True Briton, mounted twenty guus. The commander of 
 her, who had frequently expressed to his passengers his 
 hopes of falling in with the Randolph, as soon as he 
 perceived her,. made all the sail he could from her, but 
 finding he could not escape, he hove to, and kept up a 
 constant fire, until the Randolph had bore down upon 
 him, and was preparing for a broadside, when he hauled 
 down his colours. By her superior sailing, the Ran 
 dolph was enabled to capture the rest of the vessels, 
 and in one week from the time he sailed from Charleston, 
 Captain Biddle returned there with his prizes, which 
 proved to be very valuable. 
 
 Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of 
 South Carolina made exertions for fitting out an expe 
 dition under his command. His name, and the personal 
 attachment to him, urged forward a crowd of volunteers 
 to serve with him, and in a short time, the ship General 
 Moultrie, the brigs Fair American, and Polly, and the 
 Notre Dame, were prepared for sea. A detachment of 
 fifty men from the first regiment of South Carolina con 
 tinental infantry, were ordered to act as marines on 
 board the Randolph. Such was the attachment which 
 the honourable and amiable deportment of Captain 
 
412 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 Biddle had impressed during his stay at Charleston, and 
 such the confidence inspired by his professional conduct 
 and valour, that a general emulation pervaded the corps 
 to have tiie honour of serving under his command. The 
 tour of duty, after a generous competition among the 
 officers, was decided to Captain Joor, and Lieutenants 
 Grey and Simmons, whose gallant conduct, and that of 
 their brave detachment, did justice to the high character 
 of the regiment. As soon as the Randolph was refit 
 ted, and a new mainmast obtained in place of one which 
 had been struck with lightning, she dropt down to Re 
 bellion Roads with her little sqndron. Their intention 
 was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the Perseus twenty- 
 four gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of sixteen guns, and a 
 privateer which had been cruising off the Bar, and had 
 much annoyed the trade. They were detained a con 
 siderable lime in Rebellion Roads, after they were ready 
 to sail, by contrary winds and want of water on the Bar 
 for the Randolph. As soon as they got over the Bar, 
 they stood to the eastward, in expectation of falling in 
 with the British cruisers. The next day, they retook a 
 dismasted ship from New-England ; as she had no cargo 
 on board, they took out her crew, six light guns, and 
 some stores, and set her on fire. Finding that the Brit 
 ish ships had left the coast, they proceeded to the West 
 Indies, and cruised to the eastward, and nearly in the 
 latitude of Barbadoes. for some days, during which time 
 they boarded a number of French and Dutch ships, and 
 took an English schooner from New-York, bound to 
 Grenada, which had mistaken the Randolph for a Brit 
 ish frigate, and was taken possession of before the mis 
 take was discovered. 
 
 On the night of the 7th March, 1778, the fatal acci 
 dent occurred, which terminated the life of this excel 
 lent officer. Foi some days previously, he had expec 
 ted an attack. Captain Blake, a brave officer, who 
 commanded a detachment of the second South Carolina 
 regiment, serving as marines on board the General 
 Moultrie, and to whom we are indebted for several of 
 the ensuing particulars, dined on board the Randolph 
 two days before the engagement. At dinner Captain 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 413 
 
 Biddle said, "We have been cruizing here for some 
 time, and have spoken a number of vessels, who will 
 no doubt give information of us, and I should not be 
 surprised if my old ship should be out after us. As to 
 any thing that carries her guns upon one deck, I think 
 myself a match for her." About three P. M.of the 7th 
 of March, a signal was made from the Randolph for a 
 sail to windward, in consequence of which the squad 
 ron hauled upon a wind, in order to speak her. It was 
 four o clock before she could be distinctly seen, when 
 she was discovered to be a ship, though as she neared 
 and came before the wind, she had the appearance of a 
 large, sloop with only a square sail set. About seven 
 o clock, the Randolph being to windward, hove to, the 
 Moultrie being about one hundred and fifty yards astern, 
 and rather to leeward, also hove to. About eight 
 o clock, the British ship fired a shot just ahead of the 
 Moultrie, and hailed her; the answer was the Polly of 
 New-Vork; upon which she immediately hauled her 
 wind and hailed the Randolph. She was then, for the 
 first time, discovered to be a two-decker. After several 
 questions asked and answered, as she was ranging up 
 along side the Randolph, and had got on her weather 
 quarter, Lieutenant Barnes, of that ship, called out, 
 "This is the Randolph," and she immediately hoisted 
 her colours and gave the enemy a broadside. Shortly 
 after the action commenced, Captain Biddle received 
 a wound in the thigh and fell. This occasioned some 
 confusion, as it was at first thought that he was killed. 
 He soon, however, ordered a chair to be brought, said 
 that he was only slightly wounded, and being carried 
 forward encouraged the crew. The stern of the ene 
 my s ship being clear of the Randolph, the captain of 
 the Moultrie gave orders to fire, but the enemy having 
 shot ahead, so as to bring the Randolph between them, 
 the last broadside of the Moultrie went into the Ran 
 dolph, and it was thought by one of the men saved, 
 who was stationed on the quarter-deck near Captain 
 Biddle, that he was wounded by a shot from the Moul 
 trie. The fire from the Randolph was constant and 
 well directed. She fired nearly three broadsides to the 
 
414 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 enemy s one, and she appeared, while the battle lasted^ 
 to be in a continual blaze, In about twenty minutes 
 after the action began, and while the surgeon was exam 
 ining Captain Bicldle s wound on the quarter-deck the 
 Randolph blew up. 
 
 The enemy s vessel was the British ship Yarmouth^ 
 of sixty-four guns, commanded by Captain Vincent. 
 So closely were they engaged, that Captain Morgan, of 
 the Fair American, and all his crew, thought that it 
 was the enemy s ship that had blown up. He stood for 
 the Yarmouth, and had a trumpet in his hand to hail 
 and inquire how Captain Biddle was, when he discov 
 ered his mistake. Owing to the disabled condition of 
 the Yarmouth the other vessels escaped. 
 
 The cause of the explosion was never ascertained, 
 but it is remarkable that just before he sailed, after the 
 clerk had copied the signals and orders for the armed 
 vessels that accompanied him, he wrote at the foot of 
 them "In case of coming to action in the night be very 
 careful of your magazines." The number of persons 
 on board the Randolph was three hundred and fifteen, 
 who all perished except four men, who were tossed 
 about for four days on a piece of the wreck before they 
 were discovered and taken up. From the information 
 of two of these men, who were afterward in Philadel 
 phia, and of some individuals in the other vessels of the 
 squadron, we have been enabled to state some particu 
 lars of this unfortunate event in addition to the accounts 
 given of it by Dr. Ramsay in his History of the Ameri 
 can Revolution, and in his history of the Revolution of 
 South Carolina. In the former work, the historian thus 
 concludes his account of the action: "Captain Biddle 
 who perished on board the Randolph was universally 
 lamented. He was in the prime of life, and had exci 
 ted high expectations of future usefulness to his country, 
 as a bold and skilful naval officer." 
 
 Thus prematurely fell, at the age of twenty-seven, as 
 gallant an officer as any country ever boasted of. In 
 the short career which Providence allowed to him, he dis 
 played all those qualities which constitute a great sol 
 dier. Brave to excess, and consumately skilled in his 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 415 
 
 profession, no danger nor unexpected event could shake 
 his firmness, or disturb his presence of mind. An exact 
 and rigid disciplinarian, he tempered his authority with 
 so much humanity and affability, that his orders were 
 always executed with cheerfulness and alacrity. Per 
 haps no officer ever understood the art of commanding 
 the affections, as well as the respect of those who served 
 under him; if that can be called an art, which was 
 rather the natural effect of the benevolence and mag 
 nanimity of his character."* 
 
 EDWARD PHEBLE, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "JEDIDIAH PREBLE held the commission of brigadier 
 general under the colonial government of Massachu 
 setts Bay, In the struggle for independence, he took a 
 decided stand in opposition tothe encroachments of the 
 British crown, and during that contest, was for several 
 years a member of the council and senate of that state, 
 He died in the year 1783, Eged seventy-seven, having 
 been gratified by the disposer of human events to live 
 just long enough to see perfected the emancipation of 
 this country from European tlraldrom, a blessing partly 
 denied to Moses, who was *nly permitted to view the 
 promised land at a distance, and then expired. 
 
 This gentleman, in the yeai 1761, resided in a part of 
 Falmouth, called then, Casco Bay, now Portland, in the 
 Province of Maine, where his son Edward, the subject 
 of tiiis memoir, was born on the 15th of August in that 
 year. In his infantile years, he discovered a perseve 
 ring and bold temper. His fom was robust, his consti 
 tution strong and invigorated fcy athletic sports. His 
 father placed him at Du miner academy, Newbury, where 
 he received the rudiments of a Latin and English edu 
 cation, under a Mr. Samuel Moody, a gentleman in high 
 respect for his integrity and literary qualifications. 
 
 In contrariety to the wishes and expectations of his 
 father, he, at an early period, manifested a predilection 
 
 s American BiograpUcal Dictionary. 
 
416 EDWARD PRfcBLE. 
 
 for the sea, and as he persisted in his inclination, his fa 
 ther at last deemed it proper to gratify him. Hence he 
 left school at the dawn of the revolution, and instead of 
 entering a. freshman at college, he entered a freshman oa 
 board of a letter of marque, Captain Frend, and made 
 his voyage in a trip to Europe. At the age of eighteen, 
 he was a midshipman on board the state ship Protector, 
 of twenty six guns, Captain John Foster Williams, in 
 1779. On her first cruise he had to perform his part in 
 a hard fought action with the English letter of marque 
 Duff, carrying thirty-six guns, off Newfoundland, when 
 the enemy at last blew up. Scarcely forty of the crew 
 were saved. During his second cruise, the Protector 
 was captured, and her principal officers sent prisoners 
 to England, with the exception of Preble, who was re 
 leased at New York, through the influence of a Colonel 
 William Tyng, his father s intimate friend. As soon as 
 he had obtained his liberty, he returned home. 
 
 Mr. George Williams the late first lieutenant of the 
 Protector, having been appointed to command the sloop 
 of war Winthrop, then fitting out at Boston, Mr. Preble 
 entered as first lieutenant, and continued in her until the 
 peace of J783,renderingmany essential servicesinthe line 
 of his duty. His daring courage and presence of mind 
 in the midst of danger, will be best illustrated by the 
 following anecdote: 
 
 Captain Little, having the tender of an English armed 
 brig, which lav in the harbor of Penubscot, was advised 
 of certain circumstances, which induced him to attempt 
 her capture by surprise. To accomplish this object he 
 run alongside of the brig in the night, and had forty 
 boarders dressed in white frocks, to distinguish them 
 from the enemy. As he advanced, he was taken for 
 the brig s tender, hailed, and directed to ran aboard. 
 Little s reply was, that he uxis coming aboard. 
 
 As Little came alongside the brig, Lieutenant Preble 
 and fourteen of the party appointed for the purpose, 
 jumped on board ; but the rapidity of the vessel s pas 
 sage prevented the remainder from following. Captain 
 Little, finding the preicariousness of Preble s situation, 
 hailed him, desiring to know, if he would not have more 
 
EDWARD TREBLE, 417 
 
 men. His reply, indicative of great presence of mind, 
 was, "No, we have more than we want ; we stand in 
 each others way." The brig being within pistol shot 
 of the shore, the chief part of the enemy on deck leap 
 ed overboard, and swam to land; who were followed 
 by some, who made their escape through the cabin win 
 dows. The officers were just rising as Preble entered 
 their cabin; Ive assured them, that they were his prison 
 ers, and that any resistance would be vain and fatal to 
 them. The vessel of course was surrendered, as was 
 supposed to a superior force. Notwithstanding a brisk 
 cannonade and firing of musketry from a battery on 
 shore, Preble beat his prize out of the harbour, and ar 
 rived at Boston, without injury. The knowledge of this 
 gallant achievement greatly enhanced his reputation as 
 a naval officer. 
 
 From the peace of 1783 to the year 1798, he pursued 
 with unblemished reputation, his professional career in 
 the mercantile employment, with the varied success 
 generally attendant on commercial enterprise. About 
 this period, when there was every appearance of imme 
 diate hostilities between the United States and France, 
 congress determined to create a navy, and Mr. Preble 
 was one of the five first lieutenants appointed for the 
 nnval establishment, which has since shed so much lus 
 tre on the American character for nautical skill, daring 
 courage, and chivalrous achievement. 
 
 In the fall and winter of 1798 9, he was comman 
 der of the brig Pickering, in which he made two cruises; 
 and in 1799 he was promoted to be captain, and had 
 the command of the Essex frigate, of thirty-six guns. 
 With this frigate, in company with the frigate Congress, 
 Captain Sever, he sailed for Batavia, in January, 1800, 
 to convoy the American homeward bound vessels, tra 
 ding in the Indian seas. The day after leaving port, 
 the two frigates parted in a snow-storm from the ship 
 ping under convoy, outwardly bound. The Congress 
 returned dismasted; the Essex proceeded, and after 
 waiting for Captain Sever some time, at the Cape of 
 Good Hope, he departed for Batavia. Before and af- 
 
 E3 
 
418 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 ter he arrived at that port, he made two cruises of a 
 fortnight duration each, in the Straits of Sunda. 
 
 In June, he sailed homeward bound, with fourteen 
 merchantmen, valued at several millions of dollars. 
 From these he separated off the Banks of Lagullos, in 
 a severe squall, but most of them rejoined him at St. 
 Helena, from whence he convoyed them out of danger. 
 Off the Isle of France or Mauritius, he gave chase to- 
 a French corvette, which escaped in a calm by means 
 of her sweeps. Toward the close of this year, Captain 
 Preble arrived at New-York. Ill health induced him 
 afterward to resign to Captain Campbell, the command 
 .of the frigate Adams, destined for the Mediterranean. 
 Having somewhat recovered from his indisposition, he 
 was, in May, 1803, appointed to the command of the 
 frigate Constitution, lying at Boston, with orders to pre 
 pare her for sea. In June a squadron destined to act 
 against Tripoli, was entrusted to his direction. The 
 naval force consisted of seven sail. The Constitution, 
 forty-four guns; Philadelphia, forty-four, Argus, brig, 
 eighteen ; Syren, Nautilus, and Vixen, sixteen each ; and 
 Enterprise, fourteen. Every thing being ready, he set 
 sail for the object of his destination, on the Kith Au 
 gust. Having arrived at Gibralter, where he was ap 
 prised of the unfavorable aspect of affairs between the 
 United States and the Emperor of Morocco, Captain 
 Bainbridge detained a Moorish cruiser of twenty-two 
 guns and one hundred men, called the Mirboka, which 
 had sailed from Tangier, on the 7th of the same month. 
 On board of this vessel, he found among her papers, an 
 unsigned order authorizing her commander to cruise 
 against the Americans. From that circumstance, as 
 well as her having captured the American brig, Celia, 
 Captain Bowen, which was then in company, Captain 
 Bainbridge deemed the Moorish vessel to be good 
 prize, and restored the Celia to her proper commander. 
 
 The last of May, Captain Rodgers had detained the 
 Mishouda, a Tripolitan vessel under Morocco colors. 
 She had a passport from the American consul, with a 
 reserve for blockaded ports. She was taken atttempt- 
 ing to go into Tripoli, while Captain Rodgers, in the 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 John Adams, was known to be blockading. On board 
 her were guns and other contraband articles not in her 
 when she received her passport at Gibraltar; also twen 
 ty Tripoline subjects taken in at Algiers. The appear 
 ance was that she had been taken under the imperial 
 flag for the purpose of being restored to our enemy. 
 The emperor denied authorizing the attempt of the 
 Mishouda, and said if she was given up, the Captain 
 should be punished. The Governor, Hashash, on learn 
 ing the capture of the Mirboka, at which time the empe 
 ror was absent, declared she acted without authority, 
 and that war was not intended. At the same time, her 
 captain certified that this governor gave him his orders. 
 Hashash was, and continued to be in the confidence of 
 Muley Soli man. 
 
 The next day after his arrival Commodore Preble 
 wrote to the consul Simpson at Tangier, desiring him 
 to assure the Moorish court, that the United States wish 
 ed peace with his majesty, if it could be had on proper 
 terms that he could not suppose the emperor s subjects 
 would dare to make war without his permission; but 
 as their authority was disavowed by the governor, he 
 should punish as a pirate every Moorish cruiser, who 
 should be found to have taken an American. 
 
 Commodore Rodgers, on whom the command of the 
 former squadron under Morris devolved, and who was 
 under orders to return to the United States with the 
 frigates New-York and John Adams, agreed to remain 
 a few days on the station, and to join Commodore Pre 
 ble at Tangier Bay, to assist in effecting an adjust 
 ment. 
 
 On the 17th, taking into his ship the principal Moor 
 ish officers of the two prizes, he appeared with the 
 Constitution and John Adams in Tangier Bay, hoisting 
 the white flag in token of peace, but having the men at 
 quarters. Mr. Simpson, however, was not permitted to 
 come on board, nor to write except on an open slip of 
 paper: being confined to his house, with two sentinels 
 at his door. 
 
 Another act of hostility had been done at Mogadore, 
 by an order to detain all American vessels, and the ac- 
 
420 EDWARD PREBLE, 
 
 tual seizure of the brig Hannah of Salem, Joseph M, 
 Williams, master. 
 
 The commodore determined to adopt a high tone and 
 vigorous measure. He observes, in his communications* 
 to the government, "that all the Barbary powers, except 
 Algiers, appear to have a disposition to quarrel with us, 
 unless we tamely submit to any propositions they may 
 choose to make. Their demands will increase, and be 
 such as our government ought not to comply with. 
 They send out their cruisers, if they prove successful, 
 it is war, and we must purchase peace, suffering them 
 to keep all they have taken; and if they are unfortu 
 nate, and we capture their cruisers before they have ta 
 ken any thing valuable, it is not war, although the or 
 ders for capturing are found on board ; and we must res 
 tore all." This Ire believed ought not to be suffered. 
 Under these impressions he did not hesitate to use his 
 discretion, although specific instructions on this subject 
 were not given, and to follow his own ideas on what 
 expediency and honor required, taking a firm attitude 
 towards the aggressor. This he would have done and 
 risked the consequences, if he had been backed by no 
 other force than that of his peculiar squadron. The 
 consent of Commodore Rodgers, to co-operate with the 
 two frigates under his control, left no room for question. 
 Our consul believed the emperor of Morocco had long 
 meditated to make war, as soon as he could do it with 
 a prospect of impunity. It was, therefore, essential to 
 make him feel, that the system of concession was aban 
 doned. 
 
 Accordingly the commodore gave orders to his squad 
 ron to bring in for examination, all vessels belonging to 
 the Emperor and his subjects; despatched three vessels 
 to cruise off Mogadore, Salle and Zarachi, and one off 
 Tetuan, and entered the bay of Tangier at several 
 times. 
 
 That the Tripolitans might not think they were for- 
 gotton, lie despatched the Philadelphia and Vixen to 
 lie before Tripoli. 
 
 The consul, Simpson, made representations to the 
 emperor, before and after the arrival of Commodore 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 421 
 
 Preble. The answers received were general, but show 
 ed that if he had authorized war, he was now prepared 
 to disavow it. 
 
 On the 5th of October, when his majesty was expect 
 ed, he anchored with the Nautilus in company, in Tan 
 gier Bay; the circular battery at the town, VV 1-2 Si 1-2 
 miles distant. Here he remained, only changing his 
 ground once to be nearer the town, until peace was 
 concluded. He was joined in the afternoon of the 6th, 
 by the frigates New York and John Adams. The ship 
 was kept constantly cleared for action, and the men at 
 quarters night and day. On the 6th his majesty arrived 
 with a great body of troops, horse and foot, estimated 
 at five thousand who encamped on the beach opposite 
 the squadron. 
 
 The commodore was careful to order the ship dress 
 ed, and a salute of 21 guns, which was returned from 
 the fort with an equal number, as was the salute of the 
 other frigates in the morning following. 
 
 A present of bullocks, sheep, and fowls, was ordered 
 for the squadron, as a token of the emperor s good will. 
 
 On the 8th, the emperor, with his court and a large 
 body of troops, visited the batteries on the bay for the 
 purpose of viewing the United States squadron, when 
 the Constitution saluted again with twenty-one guns -a 
 compliment with which his majesty was very much grati 
 fied. The present arriving at the same time, it was ac 
 knowledged by three guns, according to the Moorish 
 custom. The following day the consul gave notice, 
 that the emperor had given orders to the governor of 
 Mogadore,for the release of the American brig detained 
 in that place, and that Monday was appointed for giv 
 ing an audience to the commodore and consul. 
 
 On the day assigned, the llth, the commodore, accom 
 panied by Colonel Lear, Mr. Morris, as secretary, and 
 two midshipmen, landed at Tangier for the proposed 
 audience. He believed there was no danger in landing; 
 but he expressed his desire, that if he should be forcibly 
 detained, the commanding officer on board should not 
 enter into treaty for his release, but open a fire upon the 
 town. They were ushered into the presence of the 
 
422 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 sovereign through a double file of guards. The com 
 modore, at the entrance, was requested, according to 
 Moorish custom, in such cases, to lay aside his side- 
 arms. He said he must comply with the custom of his 
 own country, and retain them, which was allowed. On 
 coming into the imperial presence, the emperor express 
 ed much sorrow that any difference had arisen, for he 
 was at peace with the United States. He disavowed 
 having given any hostile orders; said he would restore 
 all American vessels and property detained in conse 
 quence of any acts of his governors, and renew and 
 confirm the treaty made with his father in 1786. The 
 commodore and consul on the part of the United States, 
 promised that the vessels and property of the emperor 
 should be restored, and the orders of capture revoked. 
 The commodore received a formal ratification of the 
 treaty of 1786, and a letter of friendship and peace to 
 the president, signed by the emperor. Thus by the 
 happy r.nion of prudence and energy, our affairs with 
 this piratical despot were placed in a better condition 
 than before the variance. 
 
 The commodore having nothing to fear from Morocco, 
 was at Jiberty to direct his principal attention to Tripoli. 
 The season, however, was too far advanced for active 
 and permanent operations against the enemy. Yet this 
 officer did not indulge himself in repose, or suffer his for 
 ces to be idle. In cruising, where they necessarily, at 
 this time of the year, encountered a rough sea and tem 
 pestuous weather, in supplying convoy, and in maintain 
 ing the blockade of Tripoli, when practicable, the 
 squadron was fully and arduously employed. The 
 Philadelphia and Vixen had been ordered to the coast 
 of Tripoli. The commodore now formally declared the 
 blockade of that place, and sent notice of the fact to 
 the ministers and consuls of the United States, to be 
 communicated to the respective neutral powers. He 
 found it expedient to go to Cadiz, in order to make up 
 his complement of men, and procure a few supplies not 
 to be obtained at that time at Gibraltar. He returned 
 from Cadiz on the 6th of November, and after making a 
 suitable disposal of his force, proceeded to Algiers. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 423 
 
 where he was to leave Col. Lear, the consul general. 
 On the 22d, he sailed from Algiers for Syracuse: and on 
 his voyage was informed of the disastrous loss of the 
 Philadelphia, Captain William Bainbridge. The fol 
 lowing is a brief account of that melancholy event. On 
 the 31st of October, after pursuing a Tripoline corsair, 
 till she come to seven fathoms water, in beating off she 
 ran on a rock, not laid down in any chart, about four and 
 a half miles from the town. Every exertion to get her 
 off proved ineffectual. Meanwhile she was attacked 
 by numerous gun boats, which she withstood for four 
 hours, whilst the careening of the ship made the guns 
 totally useless. A reinforcement coming off and no pos 
 sible means of resisting them appearing, the captain 
 submitted to the horrid necessity of striking to his bar 
 barous enemy. In forty-eight hours, the wind blowing 
 in shore, the Tripolitans were able to get off the frigate, 
 and having raised her guns, towerd her into the harbour. 
 The commodore apprehended the worst from this dimi 
 nution of his force; a war with Tunis, and perhaps 
 with Algiers; at least a protraction of the present war. 
 He was, however, induced to hope, that government 
 would repair this loss by another frigate in the spring, 
 and would also furnish him with more small vessels or 
 gun boats. 
 
 On the 14th of December, he sailed with the Enter 
 prise, on a winter cruise, amidst boisterous weather; for 
 fnany days it blew a gale. On the morning of the 23d. 
 -the Enterprise captured a ketch in sight of Tripoli. 
 She was under Turkish colours, and navigated by Turks 
 and Greeks; but had on board two Tripolian officers of 
 distinction, a son of one of the officers, a number of Tri 
 poline soldiers, and forty or more blacks, men and wo 
 men, slaves belonging to the Bashaw and his subjects. 
 He at first determined to release the vessel and men 
 claimed by the Turkish captain, and retain the Tripo 
 line, about 60 in number, as prisoners ; hoping they would 
 afford an advantage in negotiation, and perhaps be 
 exchanged for some of our countrymen. But before 
 this determination was executed, he ascertained that 
 tlie captain had been active in taking the Philadelphia. 
 
424 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 Having received on board this very vessel one hundred 
 Tripolitans, armed with swords and muskets, and sub 
 stituted the colours of the enemy for his own, he assault 
 ed the fiigate, and when she was boarded, plundered the 
 officers. He had, therefore, no hesitation in retaining 
 the vessel. As she was not in a condition to be sent to 
 the United States, he transmitted her papers to govern 
 ment, and sometime after had her appraised, and took 
 her into the service as the ketch Intrepid. 
 
 February the 3d, 1804, Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, 
 with seventy volunteers in the Intrepid, and accompa 
 nied by the Syren, sailed for Tripoli, with a view to des 
 troy the frigate Philadelphia. On the 16th, the service 
 was accomplished in the most gallant manner. Lieut. 
 Decatur, entered the harbour of Tripoli in the night; 
 and laying his vessel along-side the frigate, boarded and 
 carried her against all opposition. The assailants then 
 set fire to her and left her. She was soon in a complete 
 blaze, and was totally consumed. 
 
 From this time till the bombardment of Tripoli, the 
 commodore was occupied in keeping up the blockade of 
 the harbour, and in making preparations for an attack. 
 He took the utmost pains to convey supplies and informa 
 tion to Captain Bainbridge, and his officers and men; 
 and after a time, by means of the good offices of Sir 
 Alexander Ball, succeeded. He tried several times to 
 negotiate for a ransom and treaty; but the demands of 
 the regency was sometimes ridiculously extravagant, 
 and when lowest, beyond what he thought himself per 
 mitted to accede to. The designs of warfare he had 
 entertained were checked by a solicitude for the release 
 of his countrymen; though he may by some persons, 
 perhaps, be thought to have indulged too far his aversion 
 to the payment of a considerable ransom. He found 
 himself able to make their situation as comfortable as 
 the nature of it would admit; and he believed that the 
 infliction of suffering and terror, when the time should 
 come, upon the enemy, would not produce anv long con 
 tinued aggravation of the evils of their condition, whilst 
 it would essentially serve his country. Indeed, after the 
 destruction of the Philadelphia, the Bashaw at first 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 425 
 
 affected to avenge himself by a severer treatment of the 
 captives; but this was not long persisted in. 
 
 When the first consul of France, in March, at the in 
 stance of Mr. Livingston, directed his commissary at 
 this regency to mediate for their release, Mr. Beaussier 
 undertook the office, and announced to the commodore, 
 that one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, with some 
 usual gratuities, would probably effect the object,and that 
 perhaps a cartel for the exchange of prisoners might be 
 negotiated, which would reduce the sum. The commo 
 dore did not think himself authorized to agree to these 
 terms, and never would go beyond eighty thousand; not 
 that the amount was important, except on principle, and 
 as it might affect our relations with the other Barbarv 
 powers. From first to last, it was a point of honour 
 with the Bashaw, not to give up the American captives 
 for a less sum than had been usually received from most 
 of the powers of Europe, in similar cases. But he was 
 glad at last to accept of sixty thousand dollars, satisfied 
 no doubt, that our naval armament would be coeval at 
 least with his hostility, if not at all times equally active 
 and formidable; but especially at that moment appre 
 hensive that his brother s General Eaton, if not disarmed 
 by negotiation would reinstate Hamet in the sovereignty 
 of Tripoli. 
 
 On the first of April, the commodore went to display 
 his force at Tunis; where he found a Tripoline polacre 
 dismantled, having been blockaded for sixteen days by 
 Captain Decatur. The Bey of Tunis had, for some 
 time, been uneasy at his treaty with the United States, 
 and insisted that the commodore should land and sat 
 isfy hin for some property alleged to be unlawfully 
 seized by the former squadron. The commodore made 
 answer that it was not his business, and that he must 
 put to sea. He found it necessary to watch Tunis du-^ 
 ring the whole of his command. In the spring he took 
 another prize, a Tripoline; and upon the presumption of 
 her being condemned, she was estimated, equipped, put 
 in commission, and called the Scourge. 
 
 Finding that the expected force did not arrive from 
 the United States, our officers resolved tc endeavour to 
 
 F3 
 
426 EDWARD FKEBLL. 
 
 make some use of the friendship of Naples. Although 
 he was without diplomatic authority, the minister, Gen. 
 Acton, from personal regard and good will to the ser 
 vice, favoured his application to the king, and the com 
 modore obtained as a friendly loan to the United States, 
 six gun-boats and two bomb vessels, completely fitted 
 for service, also liberty to ship twelve or fifteen Neapo 
 litans to serve under our flag in each boat. 
 
 With this addition to his armament, on the 21st ol 
 July, he joined the detachment off Tripoli, where his 
 force consisted of the Constitution, 44 guns, the brigs 
 Argus and Syren, 18 guns each, the Scourge the 
 schooners Vixen and Nautilus, 16 guns each, and the 
 Enterprise, 14. 
 
 The enemy had on his castle and several batteries, 
 one hundred and fifteen guns; fifty -five of which were 
 heavy battering brass cannon; the others long eighteen 
 and twelve pounders; nineteen gun boats, with each a 
 long brass eighteen or twenty-four pounder in the bow, 
 and two howitzers abaft. He had two schooners of 
 eight guns each, a brig of ten, and two galleys, having 
 each four guns. In addition to the ordinary Turkish 
 garrison, stationed upon the fortifications, and the crews 
 of the boats and armed vessels, computed at about three 
 thousand, the Bashaw had called in to the defence of 
 the city more than twenty thousand Arabs. 
 
 On the 3d of August, the squadron was, at noon, 
 within two or three miles of their batteries. The com 
 modore, observing that several of the enemy s boats had 
 taken a station without the reef of rocks, which covers 
 the entrance of the harbour, about 2 miles from its bot 
 tom, resolved to take ad vantage of this circumstance, and 
 made signal for the squadron to come within speaking 
 distance, when he communicated to the several com 
 manders his intention of attacking the shipping and 
 batteries. The gun and mortar boats were immediately 
 manned and prepared to cast off. At half past one 
 o clock, the squadron stood for the batteries at two, 
 cast off the gun boats; at half past two, signal for the 
 bombs and boats to advance and attack, and in fifteen 
 minutes after, signal was given for general action. It 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 427 
 
 was commenced by the bombs throwing shells into the 
 town. In an instant, the enemy s line opened a tremen 
 dous fire from not less than two hundred guns, which was 
 promptly returned by the whole squadron, now within 
 Musket-shot of the principal batteries. 
 
 At this moment, Captain Decatur, with three gun 
 boats, attacked the enemy s eastern division, consisting 
 of nine. He was soon in the centre of them; and the 
 fire of grape, langrage and musketry, was changed to a 
 deadly personal combat with the bayonet, spear, sabre 
 and tomahawk. It would be impossible, in our narrow 
 limits, to enter into a detail of the gallant exploits of 
 our countrymen upon this trying occasion. The Turks 
 fought with desperation; Decatur took two of their 
 boats, in which were thirty-three officers and men killed, 
 and twenty-seven made prisoners, of whom nineteen 
 were severely wounded. 
 
 Lieutenant Trippe boarded one of the large boats., 
 with only a midshipman, Mr. Jonathan Henley, and 
 nine men. His boat falling off before any more could 
 join him, he was left to conquer or perish, with the fear 
 ful odds of eleven to thirty-six. In a few minutes, how 
 ever, the enemy was subdued; fourteen of them lost 
 their lives, and twenty-two submitted to be prisoners; 
 Lieut. Trippe received eleven sabre wounds, some of 
 which were deep and dangerous. Mr. Henley at this 
 rencounter displayed a valour, joined to a coolness, that 
 would have honoured a veteran. Lieutenant Bain- 
 bridge had his lateen yard shot away, which baffled his 
 inmost exertions to get along-side the enemy s boats; 
 but his active and well directed fire, within musket-shot, 
 was very effective. 
 
 Captain Somers was not able to fetch far enough to 
 windward to co-operate with Decatur. But he bore 
 down upon the leeward division of the enemy, and with 
 his single boat, within pistol-shot, attacked five full 
 manned boats, defeated and drove them, in a shattered 
 condition, and with the loss of many lives, under shelter 
 of the rocks. 
 
 The two bomb vessels kept their station, although 
 often covered with the spray of the sea, occasioned bj; 
 
428 EDWARD PKEBLfc. 
 
 the enemy s shot. They kept up a constant fire, and 
 threw a great number of shells into the town. Five of 
 the enemy s gun-boats and two galleys, composing their 
 centre division, stationed within the rocks, joined by the 
 boats which had been driven in, arid reinforced, twice 
 attempted to row out and surround our gun boats and 
 prizes. They were as often foiled by the vigilance of 
 the commodore, who gave signal to the brigs and schoon 
 ers to cover them, which was promptly attended to by 
 those vessels, all of which were gallantly conducted, 
 and annoyed the enemy exceedingly. The fire of the 
 Constitution had its ample share in this bombardment. 
 It kept the flotilla in constant disorder, and produced no 
 inconsiderable effect on shore, 
 
 At half past four, the wind inclining to the northward, 
 and at the same time the enemy s flotilla having retreat 
 ed behind coverts, which shielded them from our shot, 
 while our people were necessarily much exhausted by 
 two hours and a half severe exertion, signal was given 
 for the gun-boats and bombs to retire from action; and 
 immediately after for the brigs and schooners to take 
 the gun-boats and their prizes in tow, which was hand 
 somely executed, the whole covered by a heavy fire 
 from the Constitution. In fifteen minutes the whole 
 squadron was out of the reach of the enemy s shot, and 
 the Commodore hauled off to give tow to the bomb- 
 ketches. 
 
 On hoard the frigate not a man was killed. The 
 other vessels and boats suffered in their rigging, and had 
 sundry men wounded, but lost none except Lieutenant 
 Decatnr, the brother of the Captain Decatur, so con 
 spicuous in this war. Several circumstances explain 
 this impunity of our squadron. Where the engagement 
 was close, as with the boats, the impetuosity of the at 
 tack, as well as our more dexterous use of the weapons 
 of destruction, overpowered and appalled the enemy. 
 The barbarians are unskilful gunners. The shower of 
 grape shot annoyed and discomposed them, in the ap 
 plication of what little skill they possessed. 
 
 Very different was the result of this conflict to the 
 enemy. The American fire was not an empty peal. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 429 
 
 hut a messenger of death in every direction. The three 
 captured boats had one hundred and three men on 
 board; forty-seven of whom were killed, twenty-six 
 wounded, and thirty only remained fit for duty. Three 
 other boats were sunk with their entire crews, and the 
 decks of their vessels in the harbour were swept of 
 numbers. Many guns of the forts were dismounted, 
 and the town was considerably damaged. 
 
 This attack on Tripoli displayed, in an eminent de 
 gree, the penetration and energy of the Commodore, 
 and his power of infusing his own spirit of heroism into 
 his officers and men. This achievement, as might be 
 expected, made a powerful impression on the mind of 
 the enemy. The burning of the Philadelphia could not 
 fail to make the Bashaw and his people apprehend 
 something serious from the present commander. When 
 the squadron was seen standing in, however, he affec 
 ted contempt, and, surveying them from his palace, ob 
 served, "They will mark their distance for tacking; 
 they are a sort of Jews, who have no notion of fighting." 
 The palace and terraces of the houses were covered 
 with spectators, to see the chastisement the bashaw s 
 boats would give the squadron, if they approached too 
 near. This exultation was very transient; for the bat 
 tle was scarcely joined, when no one was seen on shore, 
 except on the batteries. An intelligent officer of the 
 Philadelphia, then in captivity, observed that the Turks 
 asked if those men that fought so were Americans, or 
 infernals in Christian shape, sent to destroy the sons of 
 the prophet! 
 
 On the 5th of August, the Commodore prevailed on a 
 French privateer, which had left Tripoli that morning, 
 to return with fourteen wounded Tripolines, whose 
 wounds had been carefully dressed, and whom the Com 
 modore sent with a letter to the Bashaw s minister. 
 These prisoners, it is said, informed the Prince that the 
 Americans in battle were fiercer than lions; but in the 
 treatment of their captives were even more kind than 
 Mussr.lmen. On the 7th, the privateer returned with a 
 letter from the French consul, signifying that the Ba 
 shaw had very much lowered his tone; and would prob- 
 
430 EDWARD PREBLL. 
 
 ably treat on reasonable terms. But nothing satisfacto 
 ry being proposed by the enemy, and the terms intima 
 ted being higher than the Commander was authorized 
 to make, he prepared for a second attack. At half past 
 two the assault was made. Within two hours, six of 
 the seven guns were silenced. Forty-eight shells and 
 about five hundred round shot, twenty-four pounders, 
 were thrown into the town and batteries, when, between 
 five and six, P. M. the squadron retired from action. 
 During the engagement, the enemy s gun-boats and gal- 
 lies manoeuvred to gain a position to cut off the retreat 
 of ours; but the larger vessels were so arranged as to 
 defeat their design. The loss, this day, was twenty- 
 two killed and six wounded, two of them mortally. 
 
 At eight in the evening, the John Adams, Captain 
 Channcey, joined the squadron. By him the Commo 
 dore had the first official notice that four frigates were 
 on their passage to reinforce his detachment. At the 
 same time, also, he learned that, by the appointment of 
 a senior officer to one of the frigates, he would be super 
 seded in the command. The government were highly 
 satisfied with the Commodore, but they had not a suffi 
 cient number of Captains, junior to Preble, to supply 
 all the frigates sent out; and they did not think the sa 
 ving of his feelings would justify the creation of any 
 others. Had they, however, known or anticipated his 
 brilliant success at this time, they would probably have 
 ventured upon the promotion of one or two of the gal 
 lant lieutenants in the Mediterranean, in order to keep 
 the Commodore in the chief command. 
 
 As the frigates were to sail four days after the John 
 Adams, further operations were suspended, in expecta 
 tion of their arrival. No assistance could be received 
 from this frigate, as her guns had been stowed by the 
 kelson, and their carriages put away in the frigates, to 
 make room for her cargo, she being out as a transport. 
 
 On the 9th, Commodore Preble, in the brig Argus,, 
 reconnoitered the harbor. The next day a flag of truce 
 was seen flying on the castle. The Commodore sent a 
 boat on shore, which was not permitted to land, but re 
 turned with a letter from the French consul, advising 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 431 
 
 ;he Commodore that the Bashaw would accept five hun 
 dred dollars each for the ransom of the prisoners, and 
 terminate the war without any consideration or annuity 
 for peace. 
 
 The amount of the demand was about one hundred 
 and fifty thousand dollars, which the Commodore rejec 
 ted; but for the sake of the captives, and to save the 
 further effusion of blood, offered eighty thousand, a^d 
 ten thousand for presents. After beginning to treat 
 with the French commissary general, the Bashaw sus 
 pended the negotiation, saying he would wait the result 
 of another attack. On the night of the 23d, the bomb 
 vessels, under protection of the gun-boats, were sent in 
 to bombard the town. The bombardment commenced 
 at two, A. M. and continued till daylight; but, as it 
 was subsequently ascertained, without much effect. 
 
 On the 27th, the weather proving favorable, the Com 
 modore stood in for Tripoli, and anchored his ship two 
 miles N. by E, from Fort English ; the light vessels 
 keeping under way. A number of his officers, and many 
 of the seamen being employed in the boats, Captain 
 Chauncey, with several of his officers, and about se 
 venty seamen, volunteered their services on board the 
 Constitution. 
 
 The gun-boats, accompanied by the Syren, Argus, 
 Vixen, Nautilus, Enterprise, and boats of the squadron 
 anchored at three in the morning, within pistol shot of 
 the enemy s lines, with springs on their cables, and com 
 menced a brisk fire on their shipping, town, batteries, 
 and castle, which was warmly returned. The ship s 
 boats remained with the gun-boats, to assist in boarding 
 the flotilla, in case it should come out, and the brigs and 
 schooners were kept under way to harass the enemy, 
 or to assist the gun-boats. At day light apprehensive 
 that the ammunition in the gun-boats must be nearly 
 exhausted, the Commodore weighed anchor, and made 
 signal for the gun -boats to retire from action. When 
 arrived within a sure distance, he opened his battery 
 with round and grape shot, upon thirteen gun-boats and 
 gallies, which were closely engaged with ours, sunk one 
 of them, disabled two. and put the rest to flight. He 
 
432 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 continued running in, until within musket-shot of the 
 batteries; when he hove to, fired three hundred round 
 shot, besides grape and cannister, into the Bashaw s 
 castle, the town, and batteries. He silenced the castle, 
 and two of the batteries, and a little after six hauled 
 off. The gun-boats fired four hundred round shot, be 
 sides grape and cannister, with evident effect. 
 
 The French commissary now renewed the negotia 
 tion for peace: but it was broken off. in consequence, as 
 he thought, of one of the squadron approaching the har 
 bor as a cartel; which he said was interpreted by the 
 ignorant and mistrustful Bashaw, as a proof of discour 
 agement on the part of the invader. 
 
 On the third of September, the bomb-ketches be 
 ing repaired, as well as the damages sustained by the 
 other vessels in the action of the 27th, the squadron was 
 again ready, and disposed for another attack on the town 
 and batteries. Between three and four o clock the ac 
 tion commenced, and soon became general. But the 
 wind veering to the northward, and beginning to blow 
 fresh, at half past four, P. M. he gave the signal to re 
 tire from action under cover of the Constitution. In this 
 engagement, although the frigate and vessels were much 
 damaged, not a man was lost. The bomb vessel, com 
 manded by Lieutenant Robinson, had all her shrouds 
 shot away, and was so shattered in the hull as to be 
 kept above water with difficulty. The Argus recieved a 
 thirty-two pound shot in her hull, which cut away a bow 
 er cable, as it entered, and which so checked its velo 
 city, that it fell upon deck without doing injury. 
 
 The Commodore had, for some time, contemplated 
 sending a fire-ship into the harbour to destroy the flotil 
 la; and, at the same time, throw a quantity of shells 
 into the town. Captain Somers volunteered in this ser 
 vice, and with the assistance of Lieutenants Wadsworth 
 and Israel, fitted out the ketch Intrepid for this expedi 
 tion. A hundred barrels of gunpowder, and one hun 
 dred and fifty fixed shells, were placed in the hold, with 
 fuses and combnstibles so applied as to fire them with 
 out endangering the retreat of the adventurers. On the 
 evening of the 4th September, Captain Somers chose 
 
EfrWARD PREBLE. 433 
 
 two fast rowing boats from the squadron to bring off the 
 people, after having fired the vessel. His own boat 
 was manned by four seamen from the Nautilus, with 
 Lieutenant Wadsworth, and six men from the Constitu 
 tion. At eight they parted from the squadron and 
 stood into the harbor, convoyed by the Argus, Vixen, 
 and Nautilus, to within a short distance of the batteries. 
 Having gained the inner harbour, and got near to the 
 point of destination, she was boarded and carried by 
 two galleys of one hundred men each. At this moment 
 she exploded. The effect was awful. Every battery 
 was silenced, and not a gun was fired afterward during 
 the night. Captain Somers is said to have declared to 
 a friend, that in case he should be boarded he would 
 not be captured. There is every reason to believe that, 
 on the enemy proving successful, the Captain seized a 
 quick-match, and touched a train which communicated 
 instant fire to the mine; by which he and his compan 
 ions found, with the enemy, a common death. 
 
 Nothing occurred after this, till the two squadrons 
 joined on fhe 9th of September. Here ended Mr. Pre- 
 ble s command, so honorable to himself, and in both its 
 immediate and distant consequences, important to his 
 country. 
 
 All joined in the suffrage to the distinguished merits 
 of the Commodore. His Holiness the Pope is said to 
 have remarked, that he had done more towards hum 
 bling the anti-Christian barbarians on that coast, than 
 all the Christian states had ever done. Sir Alexander 
 Ball, in a letter of September 20th, said, "I beg to re 
 peat my congratulation on the services you have render 
 ed your country, and the hair-breadth escapes you have 
 had in setting a distinguished example. 1 heir bravery 
 and enterprise are worthy a great and rising nation. If 
 I were to offer my opinion, it would be that you have 
 done well not to purchase a peace with the enemy. A 
 few brave men have, indeed, been sacrificed, but they 
 could not have fallen in a better cause ; and I even 
 conceive it advisable to risk more lives, rather than to 
 submit to terms, which might encourage the Barbary 
 states^to add fresh demands and insults." 
 
 G3 
 
434 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 
 
 After the squadron joined, the commodore obtained 
 leave to return home, where he was received and treat 
 ed every where with distinguished attention. 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1806, the health of Mr. 
 Preble began to decline. Finding that the inveteracy 
 of his malady bid defiance to medical skill, he resolved 
 on a water excursion as a last experiment; but it resul 
 ted in no beneficial effect. He breathed his last on 
 Tuesday the 25th of August, 1807, in the 46th year of 
 his age. On the day of his funeral, business was sus 
 pended, the colours were displayed at half-mast from 
 the shipping in the harbor, and he was interred with 
 military honors and the ceremonies of religion and 
 masonry."* 
 
 THOMAS TRTJXTUN, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "THE father of Captain Truxtun was an eminent 
 counseller of the bar, in the then colony of New York, 
 and resided on Long or Nassau Island, where the Com 
 modore was born on the 17th of February, 1755. Hav 
 ing lost his father at an early age, he was placed under 
 the care of John Troup, Esq. of Jamaica, Long-Island, 
 a gentleman well known in the annals of the war be 
 tween France and England, preceding the American 
 revolution. The sea was his favorite element. At 
 twelve years of age, he first embarked in his naval ca 
 reer, under a Captain Joseph Holmes, in the ship Pitt, 
 bound for Bristol, England. The next year, he sailed 
 under a Captain Chambers, in the London trade. 
 \Vhile yet in his novitiate he was impressed on board 
 of an English ship of war of sixty-four guns, during the 
 dispute with Spain about the Falkland Islands, from 
 which ship he was afterward released, through the in 
 fluence of some friends in power. The commander of 
 his Britannic Majesty s ship Prudent, from which he 
 was discharged, used every persuasion to induce him to 
 remain in the service of the crown, with the strongest 
 
 ^Roger s Amer- Biography. 
 
THOMAS TRUXTUN. 435 
 
 assurances, that every exertion should be used for his 
 speedy promotion, but without effect, as he immediate 
 ly returned to the ship and service from which he had 
 been impressed. 
 
 In the beginning of the revolutionary struggle he 
 forthwith embarked in the cause of the colonies, against 
 the unjust oppression of Great Britain, and early in 
 1775 had the command of an armed vessel, with which 
 he cruised against the enemy with great success. In 
 these cruises the United States were much benefitted by 
 the quantities of powder which were found on board 
 his prizes, of which articles they were greatly in want. 
 Toward the close of the same year, when on a voyage 
 to St. Eustatia, a Dutch island and in the West Indies, 
 in a letter of marque, of which he was half owner, he 
 was captured off the island of St. Christopher s, his ves 
 sel condemned, and himself released under the provis* 
 ions of the general restraining act of the British Par 
 liament. From St. Christopher s he went to St. Eusta- 
 tia, and thence to Philadelphia. His next cruise was 
 in the capacity of first-lieutenant of the private armed 
 ship Congress, which was just equipping for sea. Du 
 ring the early part of the winter of 1776, this vessel, 
 in company with another private armed vessel, called 
 the Chance, fitted out at the same time, made several 
 prizes off the Havana, which were very valuable home- 
 bound Jamaica ship&, going through the Gulf of Florida. 
 He, as prize-master, brought one of them safe into the 
 port of Bedford, Massachusetts. In June of the same 
 year, while the harbour of New-York was blockaded 
 by the British fleet, previous to its evacuation by the 
 Americans, be made his way to sea, through the Long^ 
 Island Sound, in a vessel called the Independence, fit 
 ted out by himself and Isaac Sears, Esq. and placed un 
 der his command. Off the Azores or Western Isles, he 
 made several prizes of which three were large and val 
 uable ships, forming a part of the Windward Island 
 fleet under convoy. One of these prizes, carried more 
 guns and men than his vessel. The proud Englishmen, 
 notwithstanding their vaunted natural prowess, were 
 obliged to strike their colours to an inferior force. 
 
436 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 
 
 Truxtun next directed his course to the British Channel, 
 in the ship Mars, of twenty guns, where he made a num 
 ber of prizes, several of which he sent into Quiberon 
 Bay. The French court, from a desire to lessen the 
 strength of a rival power, had for some time lent a se 
 cret aid to the revolting colonies, yet it had not mani 
 fested their hostile intentions so openly as to induce the 
 recal of the British minister from Versailles. Hence, 
 upoH the reception of those prizes into a French port, 
 the British ambassador., Lord Stormont, made a strong 
 remonstrance to the cabinet protesting against the ad 
 mission of American armed vessels and prizes into the 
 ports of France, but without effect. Truxtun, after this 
 cruise, domiciliated himself in Philadelphia, from which 
 port he sailed during the remainder of the war, com 
 manding vessels, of which he was in general part owner. 
 His cruises were generally successful. 
 
 When commanding the St. James, of 20 guns, and 
 one hundred men, on a voyage to France with Thomas 
 Barclay, Esq. the Consul General from the revolted col 
 onies to that country, a passenger on board, he fell in 
 with a British private ship of war, mounting 32 guns 
 and a proportionate number of men, consequently 
 nearly double his force. After a severe and close en 
 gagement, the enemy was obliged, to sheer off, and was 
 afterward towed into New-York in a very crippled state. 
 The late Secretary of the Navy, William Jones. Esq. 
 acted as Captain Truxtun s third lieutenant, and con 
 ducted himself during the whole engagement with such 
 distinguished bravery that he was shortly after promoted 
 to a first-lieutenancy. In this vessel, Truxtun retunred 
 safe to Philadelphia with a most valuable cargo. He 
 used every means in his power to harass the enemy on 
 the ocean, during every period of the war, and constant 
 ly evinced the most consummate skill and undaunted 
 courage; and his exertions were almost universally 
 crowned with complete success. He likewise, in two 
 instances, distinguished himself on land. 
 
 On the return of peace, he continued his professional 
 pursuits between this country, Europe, and Asia, until 
 1794. when the lowering appearances of our affairs 
 
THOMAS TRUXTUN. 437 
 
 wit-h Great Britain, in consequence of the conduct of 
 her naval commanders, under the celebrated Corn order 
 of Council in 1793, induced the establishment of a navy, 
 which they could then do, without infracting the treaty 
 of peace, which prohibited them from such an attempt 
 for twelve years. The term of prohibition had just ex 
 pired. Gen. Washington, then President, by advice and 
 consent of the senate, appointed him captain of one of 
 the six ships of war, which had been ordered to be 
 built. But the building of these vessels was suspended, 
 in consequence of the treaty of 1795. On the abroga 
 tion of the consular convention with France, in the year 
 1798, during the administration of Mr. John Adams, 
 Capt. Truxtun was directed to superintend the building 
 of the frigate Constellation, at Baltimore, of which he 
 was appointed commander. This vessel was one of the 
 first which put to sea in consequence of the hostile atti 
 tude assumed by the United States towards the French 
 Republic. His orders were to cruise in the West India 
 seas for the protection of American property. The 9th 
 of February, 1799, he fell in with the French frigate 
 L lnsurgente, Captain Barreau, off the island of St. 
 Nevis. With this vessel, he commenced a severe en 
 gagement, which lasted for an hour and a quarter, when 
 the Frenchman struck; but not until his ship had be 
 come a mere wreck. The Constellation, mounting 36 
 guns, and a proportionate crew, lost in this engagement, 
 only one man killed and two wounded, while the loss on 
 board the Insurgente, mounting forty-four guns, with 
 four hundred and seventeen men, was twenty killed and 
 forty-four wounded. With his prize, he put into Basse 
 Terre, St. Christopher s, where he refitted and returned 
 to America. This was the first action which had taken 
 place since the commencement of the disturbance be 
 tween the United States and France. The fame of the 
 achievement was blazoned abroad, both in Europe and 
 America, and produced the commodore the most flatter 
 ing marks of distinction. The merchants at Lloyd s 
 Coffee House, London, sent him a present of a service 
 of silver plate, with a suitable device, valued at upwards 
 of six hundred guineas. The captive commander, in a 
 
438 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 
 
 letter to the commodore, while he lamented the unhappy 
 posture of affairs between the two countries, expressed 
 himself as being well pleased, that the chances of war 
 had thrown him into such gallant and brave hands, and 
 thanked the commodore for his generous conduct towards 
 himself and his crew. 
 
 During his cruise he captured many private armed 
 and other vessels, and completely cleared those seas of 
 the French cruisers, by which so many depredations had 
 been committed on the American and English commerce 
 in that quarter. 
 
 While our other vesseles of war were busily engaged 
 in convoying the American commerce, the commodore, 
 (a title acquired by courtesy, as the laws of the United 
 States know of no such officer) heard in January, 1800, 
 that the French ship of war La Vengeance, mounting 54 
 guns, with a complement of 500 men, was lying at Gaii- 
 daloupe with troops and several general officers on 
 board, intending to put to sea. He immediately changed 
 his cruising ground, and endeavoured to fall in with her, 
 and, if possible, to bring her to action. The superiority 
 of her force was, in a great measure, counterbalanced 
 by a complement of too many men and a number of 
 troops. 
 
 On the first of February, his wishes were gratified, as 
 he descried her on the morning of that day, and after 
 twelve hours chase, brought her to action. In conse 
 quence of having too many troops, and a great number 
 of officers on board, the French commander was unwil 
 ling to risk a combat, but the intentions of his gallant 
 antagonist were very different. An engagement took 
 place, and after a close action of nearly five hours, the 
 Frenchman was silenced. During a squall, while the 
 Americans were busily engaged in clearing their ship, 
 the French captain effected his escape. 
 
 This he was enabled to do by the darkness of the 
 night, although prior to this circumstance he had struck 
 his colours, as he afterward acknowledged, but was indu 
 ced to renew the contest, believing it to be the intention 
 of his antagonist to sink. The Vengeance now arrived 
 at Curacoa in a very shattered condition, having lost in 
 
THOMAS TRUXTUN. 439 
 
 the engagement, one hundred killed and wounded, and 
 all her masts and rigging being nearly shot away. 
 
 Congress, on this occasion voted Truxtun an emblem 
 atic medal, for his gallantry and good conduct. 
 
 After Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of the presi 
 dential office, the commodore was ordered to the Medi 
 terranean. From some cause or other, he declined the 
 service, and his resignation was accepted, and another 
 officer succeeded him. Considering his resignation as 
 temporary, he some time afterward wished to resume 
 his naval command, but was informed that, as his resig 
 nation had been final, his wishes could not be gratified. 
 He retired to Philadelphia, to enjoy the pleasing scenes 
 of domestic life, until 1816, when the citizens of the city 
 and county of Philadelphia evinced their respect for his 
 various services rendered them in the most perilous 
 times, by electing him to fill the important office of sher 
 iff, the duties of which he has discharged so far with 
 general satisfaction, notwithstanding that his elevation 
 was opposed by party clamour and prejudice."* 
 
 *Am. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 GILBERT MOTIER L.A FAYETTJE, 
 
 
 
 Major General in the American Continental Army. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory remarks La Fayette s birth and education his prospect? at the commence 
 ment of the revolutionary struggle he embarks in it, anu arrives in the United Stales. 
 
 THE illustrious individual, whose life and character 
 form the subject of the following pages, has claims on 
 America which have always been felt and acknowledg 
 ed; but his presence among us has produced sentiment* 
 of graitude and veneration that are universal; which 
 animate every breast and warm every heart. Whilst 
 this spontaneous development of feeling, the free-will 
 offering of a great and powerful people, cannot fail of 
 being gratifying to him on whom it is bestowed, it is 
 highly honourable to our national character. But there 
 are other consideration, connected with this subject, 
 which deserve more attention; we allude to its moral 
 and political influence. 
 
 Will it hereafter be claimed "that republics are un 
 grateful?" that a free people are capricious and unjust? 
 Let the spontaneous homage of ten millions of free- 
 born Americans offered to LA FAYETTR, the early -and 
 steadfast friend of their country, forever put at rest so 
 base a calumny. Where can be found so sublime and 
 impressive a scene as that which the United State now 
 presents? It is in vain that we look to % history for an ex^ 
 ample ; the annals of the world afford none ; it is an event 
 that stands alone. The triumphs of the greatest and 
 best generals of Rome, were decreed by ihe senate; 
 and, if they were to be regarded as the voluntary act of 
 the people, they could enly be considered as splendid 
 national pageants, wherein gratitude to the individual 
 (o whom they were granted, for services rendered, or 
 
 H3 
 
442 MAKQU1S DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 honour conferred on his country, had little or no part*, 
 and, although professedly designed in honour of an in 
 dividual, the feelings manifested were national pride 
 and exultation at the success and conquests of the arms 
 of the public. If the Roman triumph had been a tribute 
 of gratitude, it could not have been bestowed on such 
 men as Sylla and Marius, who distracted their country 
 with civil wars, and drenched the streets with the noblest 
 blood of Home. 
 
 In modern times, and in that country which gave birth 
 to the man who is the subject of this work, the world 
 has witnessed a display* of national feeling equally un 
 exampled and sublime; it will be perceived that we al 
 luded to the return of the exile of Elba, and the re-es 
 tablishment of the imperial throne. But the return of 
 Bonaparte to France, and the visit of La Fayette to the 
 United States, are entirely dissimilar, and equally un 
 paralleled. Like the Israelites in Egypt, the French peo 
 ple were groaning under oppression, which was in some 
 measure considered of foreign origin, as it had been es 
 tablished by foreign bayonets. Napoleon, therefore, was 
 regarded as a deliverer, and it is to this fact that the en 
 thusiasm of the people is to be attributed. Feelings 
 humbled at the degradation of the nation, and exaspera 
 ted at the insolence of power and the arrogance and 
 rapacity of the old nobility, who had returned, the people 
 flew to their late emperor, as a deliverer, and received 
 him with open arms and the warmest enthusiasm. 
 
 The reception of La Fayette, in the United Stales, 
 was entirely different; the manifest tat ion of feeling was 
 of a different character, and proceeded from different 
 sources. He was not received as a conqueror, nor hail 
 ed AS a deliverer; neither is this demonstration of feel-/ 
 ing, a sudden impulse of joy or passion, for any recent 
 service or achievement conferring benefit or honour on 
 our country; but it is a sentiment of gratitude, deeply 
 implanted in the breast, and revived by his presence, for 
 the most distinguished philanthropy and disinterested 
 services, performed nearly half a century ago, and which 
 contributed to establish the independence and liberties 
 of OUT country. Ye monarchs and lordlings of the earth. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 443 
 
 who regard mankind in the light you do the servant* of 
 your household, as the mere instruments of your ambi 
 tion and gratifications, abandon, for a moment, your 
 shemes of ameliorating the condition of your people, by 
 restricting their rights and privileges and checking the 
 exuberance of liberty, and turning your attention to 
 America, witness the reward of a man who is the enemy 
 of tyrants and oppression, and whose life and blood have 
 been devoted to the cause, of liberty and the rights o 
 mankind. Behold, though it "blast your eye-balls," 
 the unbought and unbrided homage of a free and great 
 people, offered to their benefactor, the friend of America, 
 the friend of liberty. What a sublime spectacle, to 
 witness an entire naton, after the lapse of half a century, 
 opening their hearts, in gratitude and honour of a hero 
 and patriot, who had assisted to break the chains which 
 enslaved their country, and to establish its freedom! 
 How unlike the empty pageant of coronations and roy 
 al festivals, where a constrained homage is offered by 
 slaves to their masters; wbo r whilst receiving hoaour 
 from the lips, must be sensible that the heart is often 
 ready to break forth in curses. Can the moral and po 
 litical effect of this event be lost? Will it not have an 
 influence in Europe on all enlightened and noble minds, 
 with whom the respect of mankind and the veneration of 
 posterity, are the richest reward and the only honoura 
 ble object of human ambition? 
 
 As America has been the theatre of the earliest and 
 most successful exertions of LaFayette in the cause of 
 liberty-; and as it is here that the fruits of his toils, sac 
 rifices and blood, have ripened to maturity, and promise 
 to be as lasting as his renown; as it is here that his 
 memory will be cherishe,d and revered to the latest pos 
 terity, it seems to belong to America to perpetuate hrs* 
 fame, and to preserve a record of his deeds and virtues. 
 This is a part of the debt of gratitude we owe him. His 
 life, like that of our own Washington, should be put 
 into the hands of our youth universally v that the name of 
 the adopted son of the "Father of his Country," the friend 
 of America and humanity, the hero, patriot, and philan 
 thropist, should be as familiar, in this, his adopted coun- 
 
444 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 try, with all succeeding generations, as it is with the 
 present ; SD that the respect and veneration felt for it may 
 be as lasting as his fame, as extensive as his renown. 
 
 The ancient province of Auvergne, now the depart 
 ment de la Hante Loire, gave birth to GILBERT MOTIER, 
 Marquis DE LA FAYETTE. He was born on the 6th of 
 September, 1757, at the Chateau de Chavagnac, situated 
 about two leagues distance from Brioude, in the afore 
 said department. Marshal De La Fayette, one of the 
 ancestors of the general, sustained a great military rep 
 utation, and Madame De La Fayette, a relation of his, 
 is advantageously known in the literature of France. 
 His father fell in the battle of Rossbach, on the 5th of 
 Nov. 1757, surviving the birth of his son but two months. 
 
 At the tender age of seven years, yo.ung Motier was 
 sent to the college of Louis Le Grand, at Paris, where he 
 received the rudiments of his education. How long he 
 remained here is uncertain; but at the early period of 
 fifteen, he was enrolled among the Mousquetaries du 
 Hoi, and before this time he had been made one of the 
 pages of the Queen of France. From the patronage of 
 the queen, he soon rase to the rank of a commissioned 
 officer, a favour seldom conferred, except on the sons of 
 the mostdistinguished of the nobility. Young Fayette 
 was in every respect a precocious youth, and in 1774, 
 when but seventeen years of age, he was married to the 
 Countess Anastasie de Noailles, daughter of the duke 
 of that name: considerations of family interest, as well 
 as mutim! affection, concurred in producing this union; 
 which, whilst it made him happy in the possession of an 
 amiable and -accomplished lady, less ennobled from her 
 birth than the goodness of her heart and the endowments 
 of her mind, largely augmented his fortune, which before 
 was sufficiently ample. He was now in the possession 
 of an rstate affording an annual income of more than 
 150,000 francs, a princely fortune, at that time, when 
 money was worth much more than it is at present. 
 
 Such was the situation of La Fayette when the con 
 test between Great Britain and her American colonies 
 began to attract the attention of the world ; whilst yet in 
 a state of minority, possessing rank, wealth, the favour. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 445 
 
 of the queen, surrounded by all the pleasures of a lux 
 urious capital and voluptuous court, so seducing to youth, 
 and happy in the enjoyment of domestic felicity. The 
 fairest prospects, also, of preferment and fame, were 
 open to him; so that whether ambition or pleasure was 
 the governing motive, he was equally surrounded by 
 the strongest attractions conducing to confine him to his 
 home and his country. 
 
 A distant people are struggling for their rights; the 
 hand of oppression bears heavily on them; their voice 
 has crossed the Atlantic, and reached the shores of 
 France; the philanthropists and friends of liberty feel 
 a deep interest in the cause of the sufferers, and their 
 most lively sympathies are excited. Young La Fayette, 
 whilst surrounded with all the allurements and fascina 
 tions of pleasure, was most strongly affected with this 
 noble sympathy; his benevolent heart and ardent mind 
 would not permit him to remain merely a well-wisher 
 to the cause of independence and liberty in America, 
 but prompted him to offer his services and his fortune 
 to this glorious cause. He felt that the cause of the 
 Americans was just, that it was the cause of liberty 
 and humanity. He did not, however, act from the im 
 pulse of the heart; but examined the subject, ami made 
 himself master of the controversy between the colonies 
 and their parent country, which satisfied him of the 
 justice of the cause of the colonies, and confirmed him 
 in the determination to embark in it, as a volunteer. 
 Accordingly he presented himself before the American 
 Commissioners, at Paris, and acquainted them with 
 his intention of taking a part in the contest, if his servi 
 ces should be deemed of any importance. The sagaci 
 ty of Dr. Franklin seldom erred, and discovering the 
 indications of valour and greatness in this youthful pat 
 riot, his offer was readily accepted. . This was in 1776, 
 and not long after the disastrous intelligence reached 
 Europe of the defeat of the Americans on Long Island, 
 their evacuation of New York, the dispersion of the 
 American troops, and the flight of the small remains of 
 the continental army, through NewJersey, pursued by 
 a large British force, which completely annihilated the 
 
446 MARQ.U1S DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 little credit the Americans had acquired in Europe. It 
 was supposed, even by their friends, that the cause of the 
 colonists was destroyed in the bud; the flame of liberty, 
 which had burst forth with such splendour, was believed 
 to be extinguished by the first blast of power, like the 
 taper s blaze. Opinions which are suddenly formed, 
 and upon superficial knowledge, are as suddenly chan 
 ged or given up, and from very slight circumstances. 
 At this period a dark cloud hung over the destinies of 
 America, and perhaps of the human race, as it is uncer 
 tain to what extent the latter are identified with the 
 former, so far as they depend on civil liberty. As the 
 efforts and power of the Americans were apparently 
 crushed, many of the most enlightened and patriotic 
 friends of liberty in Europe, began to think that they 
 had attached more importance to the contest than it 
 deserved; that the movements which had taken place 
 were rather to be attributed to the zeal of the leaders 
 and the sudden exasperated feelings of the people, than 
 to a deep sense of injustice, or any definite ideas of 
 their political rights, or settled determination to main 
 tain them. 
 
 So unfavourable and extensive was the influence of 
 this disastrous intelligence, that the American Commis 
 sioners at Paris, had not sufficient credit to procure a 
 vessel to facilitate the enterprise of La Fayette; and 
 under such circumstances, they believed that justice 
 and honor required them to dissuade him from his un 
 dertaking for the present. But their efforts were una 
 vailing; so ardently had the feelings of the youthful 
 patriot, become enlisted in the cause of America, that 
 they were not to be stifled by the reverses which it 
 had experienced. 4i l have done nothing," said he to 
 the American Commissioners, "hitherto, but admire 
 your cause ; but now I mean to serve it ; the more hope 
 less it is in the public estimation, the more honour I 
 shall gain by espousing its interests. Since it is out of 
 your power to procure a vessel, I will purchase and 
 equip one myself; and I take upon myself to be the 
 bearer of your despatches to congress*" 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 447 
 
 It is impossible sufficiently to admire the conduct, 
 and duly to appreciate the motives of La Fayette. 
 This was not the bold enterprise of an adventurer, who 
 had nothing to lose, and little to expect at home; nei 
 ther was he influenced by motives of ambition, as it 
 was not necessary for him to visit a foreign country for 
 distinction or preferment; but it was his love of liberty, 
 his devotion to the cause of humanity, with the desire 
 of honorable fame, that led him to become the youthful 
 champion of the cause of America; and foregoing all 
 the pleasures of the capital and the court, and the more 
 substantial enjoyments of domestic felicity, to devote 
 his life and his fortune to its service. To leave such en 
 joyments and prospects at home, and engage in the 
 cause pf a distant and foreign people, at a time too, 
 when that cause was regarded as nearly hopeless, with 
 out any motive or expectation of personal advantage, 
 evinced such ardour and devotion to liberty, as cannot 
 fail of inciting the admiration of the enlightened and 
 patriotic, of all succeeding ages. 
 
 The intended enterprise of La Fayette, having be 
 come known, active exertions were made to discourage 
 him, and defeat it. Some were actuated from real 
 friendship to him, and others from a secret hostility to 
 the cause in which he was about to engage. Among 
 other reasons urged to dissuade him, he was told that 
 the king would be seriously displeased, should he inter 
 fere in a matter of snch moment, and that if he persis 
 ted, he would expose himself to serious consequences. 
 
 But the most difficult and delicate point, came near 
 er to his heart. How could he separate himself from 
 a young and affectionate wife, to whom he had been but 
 recently united? This was the most trying difficulty; 
 it required all his resolution and philosophy. It was 
 impossible to believe that she could be induced to con 
 sent to a measure, which was to separate her from the 
 partner of her bosom, whom she so tenderly loved, and 
 expose him to the perils of a voyage, and the more cer 
 tain dangers of war. The excitement, and almost dis 
 traction of her feelings, -would view such a parting in 
 the -light of a final separation. To avoid her opposition. 
 
448 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 and perhaps even fearing that the remonstrances, the 
 tears and entreaties of a beloved wife, might even 
 shake the firmness of his purpose, he concealed his 
 ohject from her as much as possible: but as she could 
 not be kept wholly ignorant of his movements, he caus 
 ed it to be represented to her, that he was going to 
 America on a private mission, and that he would soon 
 return. To avoid a scene which would be equally dis 
 tressing to both, she was not informed of his departure, 
 until after he had sailed. He purchased and equipped 
 the vessel himself, and brought out a quantity of military 
 stores, all of which were paid for from his private funds. 
 
 After it was publicly known, that the young Marquis 
 intended to embark for America, the government made 
 a show of opposition to it; and orders were actually is 
 sued to prevent his sailing. This however, was only an 
 instance of the Mac.hiavelian policy of courts, intended 
 to deceive the British minister, and to preserve the ap 
 pearance of neutrality. It is not, however, to be suppo 
 sed, that the British cabinet was deceived by this dupli 
 city ; they were aware of the secret views and designs 
 of the French government, with respect to America. 
 But the professions and appearances of neutrality, as 
 long as they could be kept up, were necessary, to prevent, 
 or at least postpone a rupture with Britain. And al 
 though the cabinet of Great Britain, was fully sensible 
 of the secret designs of France, and aware that her 
 government connived at the enterprises of its citizens, 
 they wished to avoid a rupture with her, if possible. 
 
 France and Great Britain, if not ancient and natural 
 enemies, as is often considered, had long been rivals, and 
 jealous of each other s power. After a long and obsti 
 nate contest, a peace had a few years previous, been 
 concluded between them, less for the purpose of main 
 taining tranquility,than that of recovering strength, and 
 preparing to renew hostilities, when it could be more 
 advantageously done. It would be natural to believe, 
 therefore, that France, standing in this situation to 
 wards Great Britain, being jealous of her growing pow 
 er in America, would view with secret satisfaction, the 
 difficulties between this powerful rival and her Ameri- 
 
MARQUIS 1)E LA FAYETTE. 449 
 
 a/n colonies, which had been increasing since 1764, 
 and had finally terminated in an open rupture. In the 
 late war, which had been principally carried on in 
 America, France became too well acquainted with the 
 immense importance to Britain, of her colonies, and 
 how largely they contributed to carrying on hostilities, 
 not to be sensible that their separation from Britain, 
 would be the loss of the right arm of her power. As 
 the rival and enemy of Britain, she felt a strong inter 
 est in favor of the Americans; but was unwilling to 
 compromit her peace with that power, until the progress 
 of events might afford stronger assurance of the stabil 
 ity and ultimate success of the American cause. It 
 being the policy of the French government, therefore 
 to assist the Americans, yet at the same time, to keep 
 up the appearances of neutrality, until matters should 
 arrive at such maturity, as to dictate a different line of 
 conduct, the ministry could not openly approve of the 
 enterprise of the Marquis, \vho held a place rn the roy 
 al household, although they secretly encouraged it, 
 whilst they adopted public measures, with the ostensible 
 view of preventing it. The slightest knowledge of the 
 strict police of the old government of France, under 
 Louis XV. and his successor, would prevent the belief 
 for a moment, that the Marquis could have embarked 
 in a foreign enterprise, of a military nature, if the gov 
 ernment had been disposed to prevent it. 
 
 On the 19th of April, 1777, La Fayette arrived at 
 Charleston, South Carolina, and proceeded immedi 
 ately, to lay before Congress, then in session at Phila 
 delphia, the despatches and letters which had been 
 entrusted to him, bv the American Commissioners at 
 Paris. His language, on presenting himself to Congress,- 
 was worthy of the object of his mission, and the char 
 acter which he has since acquired: "I am come," said 
 he, "to request two favours of this house; the one, to 
 serve in your army in the capacity of a volunteer; the 
 other, to receive no pay." That enlightened body duly 
 appreciated the noble and disinterested conduct of this 
 youthful patriot, and were fully sensible of the influence 
 it might have on the cause confided to their wisdom* 
 
 13 
 
450 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 Considering his rank and family, his connexion with the 
 French government, the strong recommendations of the 
 American Commissioners, and above all, his distinguish 
 ed patriotism, Congress, in July following, adopted the 
 following resolution: "Whereas, the Marquis La Fay- 
 ette, in consequence of his ardent zeal for the cause of 
 liberty, in which the United States are engaged, has 
 left his family and friends, and crossed the ocean at 
 his own expense, to offer his services to the United 
 States, without wishing to accept of any pension or 
 pay whatsoever; and as he earnestly desires to engage 
 in our cause, Congress have resolved, that his services 
 l>e accepted, and that in consideration of his patriotism, 
 his family, and illustrious relations, he shall hold the 
 rank and commission of Major General, in the army of 
 the United States." 
 
 Thus were the fortunes of a young nobleman, whilst 
 yet in a state of minority, possessing wealth, rank, pow 
 erful friends, and in a word, every thing to endear him 
 to home, and to his country, connected with those of 
 America, in the doubtful contest in which she was en 
 gaged, for her independence and liberty. It might be 
 too much to say, that this event had a decisive influence 
 on the destiny of both ; but that it had an important 
 one, cannot now be doubted. The fate of nations has 
 often depended on events less important than this. The 
 example of La Fayette, and the distinguished honour 
 he acquired, had a powerful influence on his country 
 men; the cause of America became popular in France; 
 a patriotic ardour was excited, and so many were em 
 ulous to engage in the American service, that the Com 
 missioners at Paris were in no small degree embarras 
 sed from the number of applications. The exertions 
 and influence of the Marquis, and his numerous friends 
 at home, must in some degree, have contributed to the 
 assistance afforded by France to the States; and his 
 patriotic conduct, and unbounded liberality, devoting 
 both his services and his fortune to the cause, had a 
 happy influence in America. But whatever effect this 
 event may have had on the glorious revolution with 
 which it is connected, there can be little doubt of its 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 451 
 
 happy influence on the character and life of the Mar 
 quis; it fixed his character, confirmed his principles, and 
 made him one of the most distinguished patriots of his 
 own, or any other age. Had he never served in the 
 United States, he would undoubtedly have been a pa 
 triot in his feelings and opinions, and a friend of popu 
 lar rights; but it is by no means certain that he would 
 have been a republican in his principles, or so ardently 
 devoted to civil liberty. A man s principles do not 
 operate with full force, when they depend on speculative 
 ideas; it is only by devoting our talents, our services, 
 our blood or fortunes, to. the defence of principles, that 
 causes them to be revered, or their truth and impor 
 tance justly appreciated. The American Revolution, 
 was a school of liberty; and its instructions made a 
 lasting impression on the minds of all engaged in it; 
 and on none more than the adopted son of Washington, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Congress give a Commission to La Fayette, and he joins the Army Sketch of the 
 events of the war Battle of Brandy wine, in w.hich La Fayette was wounded- he 
 defeats a party of Hessians ad grenadiers in New-Jersey has the command of 
 a division assigned him are disciplined, aruied and equipped by himself Sketches 
 of. the events of the war Situation of the American army at Valley Forge 
 Exertions and influence of La Fayette,. to allay jealousies towards the commander 
 in chief. 
 
 WASHINGTON had a wonderful sagacity and discrimina* 
 lion, as to the character and qualities of men; and he 
 at once received the most favorable impressions, from 
 the young volunteer: his unobtrusive deportment, his 
 modest assurance, and his sincerity, afforded a pres 
 age of his future character. He possessed in an unu 
 sual degree the rare qualities of securing the affections 
 of all who knew him. Washington immediately became 
 ardently attached to him; and admitted him into his. 
 own family as his adopted son. He declined for some 
 time, to assume the commission and rank assigned him 
 by Congress; and when urged by Washington to do it, 
 he replied, "that he was not as yet capable of dischar 
 ging the duties of so important a post; that he must 
 begin by being instructed himself, and by learning to 
 obey, before he took upon himself to command." 
 
452 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 This reasonable diffidence in himself, considering his- 
 youth and want of experience, whilst it increased the 
 confidence of Washington in his abilities, was calcula 
 ted to allay the jealousy, and secure the esteem of all 
 his associates in arms. 
 
 The young Marquis repaired to the American camp 
 in New-Jersey, to take a part in the strife of arms; he 
 immediately showed a promptitude and readiness in 
 attention to duty; he examined whatever was within 
 his observation, and applied himself with great diligence, 
 to obtain information of every thing concerning the 
 service, and the condition and -resources of the country. 
 By accepting the numerous invitations given him, he 
 soon became acquainted with the officers, and from his 
 frank and unassuming deportment, and easy and agree 
 able manners, he acquired m,my friends. His charac 
 teristic generosity, soon began to display itself; on 
 learning the wants of General Moultrie, he sent him 
 complete uniforms and epuipments for one hundred and 
 fifty soldiers under his command. 
 
 As it was in the American revolutionary war, that the 
 character of La Fayette was formed, and his principles 
 established ; as that was the theatre of his first and most 
 successful exertions in the cause of liberty, and as this 
 portion of his life is most interesting to Americans^ and 
 at this time secures to him the united homage of the 
 entire population of our country, it becomes necessary 
 to detail such of the events of that memorable contest, 
 as will do justice to the exertions and merit of our youth 
 ful hero. 
 
 The rising Sun of the American revolution, which 
 beamed with so much effulgence at Bunker s-Hill, was 
 soon overcast with impervious clouds. The blood which 
 drenched the soil of Lexington electrified the country, 
 and the people were ready to rush to arms, to avenge 
 their injured countrymen, and punish so daring an out 
 rage on the rights of freemen. The militia of Massachu 
 setts, Connecticut and New-Hampshire, collected at 
 Boston, and the heights of Bunkers Hill first signalized 
 their valour, to the astonishment of the mercenaries of 
 Britain. The seat of war being transferred to New 
 
MARQUIS Dfi LA FAYETTE. 453 
 
 York, the militia concentrated at that place, and Wash 
 ington near the close of the year 1776, found himself at 
 the head of a numerous body of men, hastily levied, 
 without experience or discipline, and in a considerable 
 degree, without equipments or arms. Little reliance 
 could be placed on such a force, and if possible its effi 
 ciency was less than the moderate expectation of the 
 commander in chief. The unfortunate attempt to de 
 fend New-York, soon dispersed this large nominal force. 
 The fatigues and hardships of the camp, even in a few 
 weeks cooled the ardour that had been raised, and as 
 their term of service was . short, the militia returned 
 home as hastily as they had collected, and Washington 
 was left with the small wreck of an undisciplined force; 
 with which he was compelled to fly from place to place, 
 through New Jersey. Rapidly pursued by Cornwallis, 
 Washington s escape at Newark, Brunswick, Princeton 
 and Trenton must be regarded as almost miraculous. 
 Nothing but the dilatory measures and blunders of Gen. 
 Howe, saved the small remnant of the continental armv ; 
 which after crossing the Delaware, amounted to no more 
 than seventeea hundred men; the Jersey, Maryland, and 
 Pennsylvania militia having abandoned him the moment 
 their term of service expired, and although it was appa 
 rent that the country was in the most critical situation, 
 yet no considerations would induce them to stay a single 
 day. Availing themselves of their successes and the 
 despondency and alarm which had been spread through 
 the colonies, the two Howes issued a proclamation in 
 the name of his Britanic Majesty, commanding all per 
 sons to desist from acts of treason and rebellion, and 
 promising a free pardon to all who should return to their 
 business and homes. This proclamation had an aston 
 ishing effect on men of weak nerves, easy principles,, 
 and large fortunes; thousands who had been ardent in 
 the cause, abandoned it in this hour of despondency, 
 and thinking only of the security of their persons and 
 property, they began to view the subject of dispute in a 
 new light T and thought that the conduct of mother Brit 
 ain was not so bad as to justify involving the country in 
 the dreadful evils of a civil war. This was the darkest 
 
454 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 day in the American revolution; the hearts of all real 
 patriots sunk within them, yet they did not despair; but 
 with a large portion of the people, the contest was con 
 sidered as decided, and it certainly was by the British. 
 Congress was without an army; without a cent in the 
 treasury, and apparently no prospect of recruiting either ; 
 but what was more alarming, the confidence of the na 
 tion was destroyed, and the spirit that had animated 
 the people was gone, which paralyzed all exertion. 
 What remained but hope and the protection of Provi 
 dence? 
 
 It was at this gloomy period that the young French 
 patriot, fully aware of these alarming circumstances, 
 and against the dissuasions of the American commis 
 sioners, engaged in the cause of American independence 
 and liberty, at the very time when it was forsaken at 
 home by thousands who had embraced it. This hon 
 ourable conduct in a foreigner, contrasted with that of 
 those Americans, who in the day of adversity were 
 ready to abandon the cause of freedom and their coun 
 try, served to exhibit the disgracefulness and criminality 
 of the Jatter, in a more glaring light. 
 
 But Washington did not believe, as he informed Col. 
 Reed, "that his neck was made for a halter;" he did 
 not despair of the republic; and having increased his 
 force to about five thousand, principally however raw 
 militia, he recrossed the Delaware, and surprised and 
 captured near one thousand Hessians. This event, 
 which revived the despondent spirit of the Americans, 
 was soon followed by his almost miraculous escape at 
 Trenton, which turned to his own advantage, and ter 
 minated in the defeat of the enemy at Princeton. These 
 events revived the hopes if not the confidence of the 
 most despondent, and threw a shade of light over the 
 dark prospect which prevailed. 
 
 So small and inefficient however were the American 
 forces, that Washington was unable to undertake any 
 other enterprise; he retired to Morristown, where he re 
 mained during the winter, depending for his security, 
 less on his numbers and strength, than the ignorance of 
 General Howe of his weakness; which was so great 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 455 
 
 that at some periods, he could not have mustered five 
 hundred men fit for duty. 
 
 Notwithstanding the successful affairs at Trenton and 
 at Princeton, the cause was considered still as nearly 
 hopeless. Nothing but a desperate cause could have 
 occasioned, or afforded even the semblance of justifica 
 tion, for the extraordinary measures of congress: it is 
 only a desperate cause that requires desperate remedies. 
 Congress conferred on Washington, supreme authority 
 in every thing which related to the conduct and man 
 agement of the war; and not only so, but to "arrest and 
 confine persons who refused to take the continental cur 
 rency, or were otherwise disaffected to the American 
 cause." To create a dictator, and to authorize him to 
 arrest and imprison persons who refused to take a ficti 
 tious currency, that they might conscientiously believe 
 to be without value and likewise to arrest those whom 
 he might suspect of disaffection, were truly desperate 
 measures, and not very consistent with the object in 
 view ; they afford the stongest evidence that congress 
 regarded the cause as a forlorn one. Such was the con 
 dition of the country, "and the progress that had been 
 made in the war, in the spring of 1777, when the Mar 
 quis de La Fayette arrived in America. His zeal in 
 the cause of liberty must have been fervent indeed, to 
 induce him to forego so many flattering prospects at 
 home, to engage in a contest so doubtful and discour 
 aging, not to say desperate, and that contest not his 
 own, or of his own country. 
 
 At the opening of the spring campaign, Washington 
 had but between four and five thousand men, whilst 
 Gen. Howe had nearly thirty thousand : a fearful odds in 
 a struggle for the independence and liberty of a coun 
 try. The American troops were in want of every thing, 
 and Washington had no money to provide the necessary 
 supplies: in this emergency Fayette presented him with 
 sixty thousand francs. Washington was greatly affect 
 ed at such generosity. Howe, on retiring from the Jer 
 seys, took a station on Staten Island, and after various 
 manoeuvres intended to deceive Washington as to his 
 destination, sailed for the Chesapeake with a fleet of two. 
 
456 3IARQUIS DE LA FAYETTK. 
 
 hundred and fifty ships, and disembarked his troop^ 
 amounting to sixteen thousand, at the head of Elk River ; 
 from whence they marched towards the Brandy wine on 
 the route to Philadelphia. Washington, after various 
 inarches arid countermarches, in consequence of his 
 perplexity as to the destination of Howe, as soon as he 
 learnt of his arrival in the Chesapeake, marched his 
 troops, amounting to about seven thousand, to oppose 
 his progress. Supposing that the enemy would attempt 
 to cross the Brandy wine, at Chad s ford, he posted the 
 main strength of his army at that place; whilst one 
 thousand men occupied the opposite hill, on which a 
 slight breast-work had been thrown up on the. night of 
 the 10th of September. On the morning of the llth, by 
 dawn of light, the British army advanced in two col 
 umns, the left under Cornwallis, and the right under 
 Knyphausen. The latter perceiving that he could riot 
 cross without dislodging the Americans posted on the 
 hill under General Maxwell, ordered a detachment to 
 attack them, which Maxwell repulsed; but the detach 
 ment being reinforced, and another party proceeded to 
 attack his flank, the American general retreated and 
 crossed the river with little loss, not being pursued by the 
 enemy. The judicious dispositions made by Washing 
 ton to prevent Cornwallis from crossing the ford, were 
 countermanded in consequence of erroneous information 
 that the enemy was not marching in that direction; by 
 which means Cornwallis s division crossed without op 
 position, and the Americans were first informed of it, 
 by the movements of the enemy, to turn their right flank 
 under General Sullivan. A short engagement ensued, 
 whrch resulted in the rout of the Americans, who re 
 treated in great confusion. General Greene was des 
 patched to the aid of Sullivan, and although he marched 
 four miles in forty minutes, he arrived only in season to 
 cover ih ^ retreat of the routed and flying troops. Ta 
 king advantage of the engagement with Cornwaliis, 
 Lnyphausen crossed Chad s ford, and attacked Wayne 
 and Maxwell on the opposite side of the stream, who 
 were compelled to retire and abandon their batteries 
 and cannon. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 457 
 
 Greene who was pursued by Cornwallis, made a 
 stand at a defile about one mile from the scene of action ; 
 the troops under his command consisted of Weedon s 
 Virginia brigade, and Colonel Stewart s Pennsylvania 
 regiment. This narrow pass Greene was determined to 
 defend ; Conwallis came up about an hour by sun, when 
 a contest commenced which was terminated only by the 
 darkness of the night. The action was fought with the 
 most determined bravery on both sides: no troops ever 
 behaved better, or displayed more cool intrepidity than 
 the Americans under Greene, who sustained the heat of 
 the action. This action has become memorable from 
 its being the first in which La Fayette was engaged, and 
 the first in which he shed his blood in the cause of lib 
 erty. He behaved with the coolness of an old veteran; 
 animated by his example, his brigade made a vigorous 
 charge OD the enemy, but was repulsed ; he exerted him 
 self to rally them, and lead them again to the charge, 
 but without success. He was in the hottest of the fight, 
 and was wounded by a musket ball in the leg, but would 
 not retire or dismount from his horse to have his wound 
 dressed, but continued at his post during the whole en 
 gagement, and displayed the coolness, valour and pres 
 ence of mind of a veteran soldier. Several other cele 
 brated foreigners were engaged in this battle; among 
 the number was the Polish Count, Pulaski, who carried 
 off King Stanislaus from his capital: he so highly dis 
 tinguished himself, that he was promoted by congress to 
 be commander of the cavalry, and brigadier general. 
 About this period his still more distinguished country 
 man, the Polish patriot and hero, Kosciusko, arrived in 
 this country, also a volunteer in the cause of liberty. 
 At this time too, M.de Coudray, a French officer of em- 
 inet rank and talents, an enthusiast in the cause of lib 
 erty, arrived in America; and who soon afterward was 
 unfortunately drowned in attempting to ford the Schuyl- 
 kill. La Fayette after the battle, was conveyed to 
 Philadelphia, but on the advance of the enemy, he was 
 obliged to retire to the mountains for security. The 
 Baron de St. Ouary, a distinguished French officer was 
 taken prisoner. 
 
 K3 
 
458 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The result of this battle, considering the number and 
 description of troops engaged o-n both sides, the Ameri 
 cans being greatly inferior in both respects, could not 
 furnish any just cause of exultation on the part of the 
 British. Our loss in killed, wounded and prisoners ex 
 ceeded twelve hundred; and theirs amounted to about 
 eight. The British however contrived to magnify its 
 importance, and thus to multiply the number of its par 
 tisans throughout Pennsylvania, which increased the 
 embarrassments of the continental army, whilst it facili 
 tated the plans of Howe. 
 
 Washington retired to Chester, towards Philadelphia, 
 where he rallied his forces, and intended still to dispute 
 the entrance of the British into Philadelphia. Had the 
 British general followed up his advantages, instead of 
 remaining three days, the situation of the Americans 
 would have been very critical, and perhaps the contest 
 have been decided; he might easily have overtaken our 
 army at Chester, before Washington had had time to 
 rally his troops, or reinforce; or he might have pushed 
 on and reached Philadelphia before him. But the evil 
 genius of Howe concurred with the exertion and skill of 
 Washington, for the salvation pf America. The two 
 armies again met on the 17th,,near Warren Tavern, on 
 the Lancaster road, and were again about to contest the 
 possession of Philadelphia, with fearful odds, on the 
 part of the British, who were flushed with recent 
 victory. But that Power who rides on the wind and 
 directs the storm, had ordered otherwise; a tremen 
 dous storm, accompanied with torrents of rain, compel 
 led the hostile parties to separate, a few minutes after 
 the commencement of the engagement. On the follow 
 ing day, Washington moved off towards Reading, order 
 ing Wayne to remain in the rear of the enemy, who, on 
 the night of the 20th, was surprised by a detachment of 
 the enemy, and sustained a serious loss. 
 
 Sir William Howe, having succeeded by his manoeu 
 vres and movements in drawing Washington to a dis 
 tance from the city, suddenly crossed the Schuylkill, and 
 entered Philadelphia in triumph on the 26thfwithout op 
 position. The congress had adjourned on the 18th, to 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 459 
 
 iLiancaster, and from thence they soon repaired to York- 
 town. 
 
 Washington moved with his army to Skippack Creek, 
 about sixteen miles from Gennantown; where being re 
 inforced by 2,500 men, on the 3d October, he advanced 
 to attack the enemy s encampment at Gerrnantown. 
 Early on the morning of the 4th, the Americans com 
 menced the attack: it was unexpected by the enemy, 
 and our troops would probably have gained a decisive 
 victory, had it not been for the unfortunate detention of 
 the main army, to attack Chew s stone house, into which 
 a party of the enemy had retreated for refuge. While 
 the main division of the army was thus detained, about 
 what what was of little or no consequence as to the 
 principal object, the enemy had time to make their dis 
 positions; and the column under General Greene, came 
 up and engaged the right wing of the enemy: a spirited 
 contest ensued, in which the Americans for some time 
 had the advantage. The contest was very hotly kept 
 up for a considerable time; but at length, the Americans 
 were compelled to give way in every direction; and as 
 they were retreating, Cornvvallis came up with a squad 
 ron of horse, which routed and threw them into great 
 confusion. Our loss was severe, amounting in killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners, to about eleven hundred ; among 
 the killed was General Nash of North Carolina. The 
 enemy s loss in killed and wounded was eight hundred. 
 
 La Fayette, impatient of confinement, and anxious 
 again to be in the field, before his wound was healed, 
 proceeded to join General Greene in New Jersey. Hav 
 ing obtained the command of a small body of militia, 
 in conjunction with Colonel Butler, who had a rifle corps 
 of about the same number, on the 25th of November, 
 whilst attempting to reconnoitre the position of the ene 
 my he fell in with a detachment of about three hundred 
 men, consisting of Hessian and British grenadiers. A 
 spirited engagement immediately followed ; the enemy 
 were soon routed and fled, with the loss of twenty or 
 thirty killed, and a number wounded, and were pursued 
 to their camp. 
 
460 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 General Greene, in noticing this encounter, spoke iti 
 very flattering terms of La Fayette; "The Marquis, 1 
 he observed, "seemed to search for danger, and was 
 charmed with the behaviour of his men." In his letter 
 to Washington, La Fayette remarked : * 4 I found the ri 
 flemen superior, even to their own high reputation; and 
 the militia surpassed all the expectations I could have 
 formed of them." An account of this victory was 
 transmitted to the congress by Washington, who were 
 so sensible of the merit of La Fayette, that they immedi 
 ately promoted him to the command of a division. This 
 consisted at first of twelve hundred young men, which 
 was afterward increased to two thousand. They were 
 disciplined and instructed by their young general, who 
 was so delighted with, and so diligent in attending to the 
 duties of his new situation, that he scarcely allowed 
 himself time for sleep or refreshment. 
 
 The troops under his immediate charge, formed a 
 distinct corps, and were peculiarly his. They were not 
 only formed and disciplined by him, but the soldiers 
 were armed and equipped at his own expense; he also 
 presented each officer with an elegant sword and belt. 
 These, and other acts of munificence in promoting the 
 objects of the war, had reduced his funds so low that 
 he was under the necessity of sending to France for ad 
 ditional supplies. His assiduity in the discharge of his 
 duties, his attention to the wants of every soldier, his 
 unbounded liberality, and his engaging manners, render 
 ed him beloved and respected by almost every man un 
 der his immediate command. Although but a youth 
 himself, -he was literally the father of the troops he com 
 manded: he was truly the soldier s friend. He has 
 since declared that he was never so truly happy as 
 when engaged in these delightful employments, and sur 
 rounded bv bisjiriendsi a term of endearment which he 
 applied to those under his immediate charge. 
 
 Apparently triflng incidents often open the heart of a 
 man, and unfold his dispositions more than great events. 
 About this period, a circumstance occurred too honoura 
 ble to the heart of La Fayette, to be omitted. While 
 inspecting the camp, he beheld a man wretched ia his 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 46 1 
 
 dress, and miserable and dejected in his appearance, 
 seated at the foot of a tree, his face covered with his 
 hands, and his elbows resting on his knees; he seemed 
 an object of such deep melancholy and distress as at 
 tracted the attention of the general ; who, after listening 
 for some moments to his sighs, inquired in that feeling 
 and interesting manner so peculiar to him, the cause of 
 his grief. The unhappy man replied that he had lately 
 joined the army, leaving a young wife and two small 
 children at home, who were entirely dependent on him 
 for sustenance, and that the fears of their suffering during 
 his absence, filled his heart with sorrow. La Fayette, 
 after hearing his story, inquired his name and place of 
 residence, and told him not to grieve, as his family should 
 be provided for, which promise he neither forgot nor 
 disregarded. 
 
 The Americans had attempted to obstruct the navi 
 gation of the Delaware, by chevaux-de frise, fire-ships 
 and forts, and to cut off the communication between the 
 fleet and army of the enemy, which would have ren 
 dered their situation at Philadelphia very critical. 
 The two Howes being sensible of this, made exertions 
 corresponding to the importance of the object, to open 
 the navigation of the river. The most important of 
 the fort-s, was that at Red Bank, which being attacked 
 by fifteen hundred Hessians, it was gallantly defended 
 by Colonel Greene, who repulsed the assailants with 
 immense loss, Colonel Donop, their commander, being 
 himself mortally wounded and made prisoner, with 
 many other officers. But for the darkness of the night, 
 which covered their flight, the whole party would have 
 fallen into the hands of the Americans. This distin 
 guished conduct, was duly honoured by congress, and 
 an elegant sword presented to Colonel Greene. 
 
 But notwithstanding the failure of this attempt, Sir 
 William Howe did not abandon the object of opening 
 the navigation of the river; but ordered an attack to 
 be made on Fort Mifflin, on Mud Island, which was most 
 gallantly and obstinately defended; but after having 
 sustained the fort for nearly two months against the 
 daily attacks of the enemy, it was abandoned on the 
 
462 MARQUIS DE LA 
 
 15th of November, the works being entirely destroyed, 
 which left the garrison exposed to the fire of the enemy. 
 Colonel Samuel Smith of Maryland, who commanded 
 the garrison, received a sword from Congress, for his 
 gallant conduct in the various assaults on Fort Mifflin; 
 two hundred and fifty of the garrison were killed and 
 wounded. Of all the works on the river, Fort Mercer 
 alone remained; it was intrusted to General Greene, 
 who did every thing that could be done, to defend it; 
 but not receiving the expected reinforcements, it was 
 abandoned in pursuance of the advice of a council of 
 officers. After the fall of the forts, the vessels and 
 galleys were obliged to be abandoned. In these various 
 conflicts, the Americans sustained severe losses; the 
 enemy also lost two ships of the line ; but they succeed 
 ed in obtaining the command of the river. 
 
 Early in December, the British general marched 
 from Philadelphia to White Marsh, and manoeuvred to 
 draw Washington into an engagement, but did not dare 
 to attack him in his position, although the American 
 troops were in the most deplorable condition; in want 
 of shoes, stockings, breeches and blankets. After some 
 skirmishing, the enemy returned to the city, where he 
 found very snug winter quarters. His adversary having 
 retired, Washington moved with his army to Valley 
 Forge, a place uniting almost every advantage, where 
 he took up his winter quarters, about sixteen miles from 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Thus terminated the campaign of 1777, which com 
 menced under such favourable auspices on the part of 
 the British, with such ample means, and from which 
 the enemies of America, both at home and in England, 
 had expected so much. The possession of a city 
 abandoned by a considerable part of its inhabitants, 
 and the submission of the surrounding country for fif 
 teen miles in extent, were the only results of a cam 
 paign, which after great expectation and immense ex 
 pense, was to prostrate the power and hopes of Ameri 
 ca, and teach the rebels better manners, and convince 
 them by the argumcntum baculinum conviction per 
 force, of the omnipotence of parliament, and its author- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTL. 463 
 
 ity to bind the Americans in all cases whatsoever! The 
 British had not been defeated; they had not been dis 
 appointed by not receiving expected reinforcements, or 
 by the failure of the co-operation of their fleet; their 
 exertions had not been paralysed, and their plans frus 
 trated by any adverse occurrence, that was out of the 
 contingences which fairly belong to the operations and 
 events of war. Neither had they been opposed by a 
 numerous force, or one well disciplined and supplied 
 with every thing calculated to render it efficient. Why 
 theai did they accomplish so little, and what were the 
 difficulties with which they had to contend? The want 
 of energy in the British commander, may have been 
 one reason of this failure; but the principal causes 
 existed in the nature of the contest, and the many ob 
 stacles which attend the conquest of a people contend 
 ing for their liberty, and animated by a spirit which such 
 a cause is calculated tp inspire. Had the people been 
 united, the British would have found much more formi 
 dable obstacles to contend with; but instead of this, 
 the country was distracted with dissensions, two great 
 parties dividing public opinion; the tories were not only 
 opposed to the revolution, but formed a local and active 
 auxiliary force, to co-operate with the enemy; this 
 party in the middle states, comprised no small portion 
 of the men of property; jealousies and coldness also, 
 prevailed among the whigs; and a spirit of monopoly 
 and cupidity having sprung up, motives of gain pre 
 vailed over sentiments of patriotism, and men of wealth 
 engaged in ruinous speculations: all these causes ten 
 ded to embarrass and paralyse the endeavours of con 
 gress and their commander. Congress had not the pow 
 er to command the little resources the country posses 
 sed ; was without money and without credit, and the 
 army in want of every thing. If, with all these embar 
 rassments and obstacles, the enemy was able to effect 
 no more, what would he have accomplished if the peo 
 ple had been united and under an efficient government? 
 The American army remained undisturbed in their 
 quarters at Valley Forge, but sixteen miles from Phila 
 delphia, the more comfortable quarters of the enemy. 
 
464 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 although barefoot and almost literally naked, and great 
 ly inferior in numbers to the British. In this destitute 
 condition of the American troops, La Fayette, at his 
 own expense, procured many articles to supply the most 
 distressing wants of the soldiers. He was too much 
 the soldier s friend to be satisfied to be himself possess 
 ing every enjoyment, whilst the troops were suffering 
 the severest privations. To relieve the distresses of 
 the army, and assume the appearance of confidence 
 and cheerfulness, Washington and the officers encoura 
 ged pastimes and amusements, and took a part in them 
 themselves. From the conciliatory deportment, the 
 pleasing manners; from his regard for the rights of the 
 soldiers, and his unbounded liberality, the example and 
 exertions of no one, except the commander in chief, 
 had raore influence than those of La Fayette. Wash 
 ington, and the other officers, invited their ladies to 
 their quarters, to partake in th^r festivities, and by 
 their presence, to enliven the dulness of the scene; by 
 their vivacity and sprightliness, to spread a charm of 
 gayety and pleasure over the haggard features of war, 
 and the sufferings and gloom of the camp that in these 
 transient enjoyments, past distresses might be forgotten, 
 present sufferings alleviated, and future prospects 
 brightened. These patriotic women, whilst they felt 
 a deep anxiety for the safety of their husbands and 
 friends, engaged in a contest for life and liberty with 
 such unequal means, suppressed their uneasiness, and 
 assuming the apearance of cheerfulness and joy them 
 selves, did every thing in their power to impart these 
 feelings to others, and give an appearance, at least, of 
 pleasure and gayety to the scene. Their patriotic mo 
 tives and example were worthy the highest praise, and 
 will compare with the most distinguished matrons of 
 the ancient republics of Greece or Llome. During the 
 winter, Washington caused the whole army to be inocu 
 lated with the small-pox, wich was conducted with such 
 secrecy that the British were not informed of it until 
 the whole operation was ended. The sufferings of the 
 army were inconceivably severe, during the rigours of 
 fhe winter; being not only destitute of clothing, but 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 465 
 
 often of provisions. At one period the commissary 
 delivered the last ration in his possession; and, from the 
 want of materials to raise their barracks from the 
 ground, the damp struck through their straw beds, which 
 produced a contagious and mortal disease, to which 
 the soldiers were the miserable victims. But the army 
 bore all these sufferings with fortitude and patience, if not 
 without complaint. The commissioners appointed by 
 Congress to examine the condition of the army, report 
 ed that nothing could exceed their sufferings, except the 
 patience with which they supported them. 
 
 To add to these difficulties, jealousy and envy had 
 produced secret enemies to the commander in chief, who, 
 by plots and intrigues, attempted to deprive him of the 
 confidence of the army and of the people, and thus, if 
 not to strip him of his power, at least to cast a shade 
 over the lustre of his well-earned fame. There were 
 others, whom charity requires us to believe, honestly 
 entertained fears that Washington, after establishing 
 the independence of the country, like Caesar or Crom 
 well, would assume sovereign power himself. The 
 jealous spirit of the times, and the unlimited authority 
 conferred on him by Congress, favored these unworthy 
 suspicions, which had they not been allayed, might have 
 proved so fatal in their consequences. No one was 
 more active or successful in his exertions to allay .them, 
 and satisfy the public mind, than General La Fayette. 
 Being a foreign nobleman of a princely fortune, no one 
 could suspect him of harboring designs hostile to the 
 liberties of America, and from the sacrifices he had 
 made, in her cause, general confidence, was reposed in 
 his integrity. From his situation with relation to 
 Washington, being his confidential friend and adopted 
 son, to whom he unbosomed his most secret thoughts, 
 he possessed great personal influence, which was exer 
 ted in a judicious and efficacious manner. So disin 
 terested a patriot, who had poured out his blood and 
 his treasure in the cause of American liberty, was lis 
 tened to, when he spoke in vindication of the character 
 of Washington, whose inmost thoughts he knew whose 
 heart was opened to him. His exertions contributed 
 
 L3 
 
466 MARQUIS 0E LA FAYfcTTK. 
 
 greatly to sooth the feelings and allay the jealousies 
 which had disclosed themselves and threatened to pro 
 duce the most alarming consequences. 
 
 Those who suppose that it is with his sword only 
 that Fayette served America, are greatly mistaken. 
 It is not only for his exertions in the field, and the blood 
 spilt in our service, that we are indebted to this distin 
 guished patriot; but still more for his wisdom, his coun 
 sels, his treasure and unexampled munificence, and 
 most of all, for his extensive personal influence, both in 
 France and America, which was exerted to the utmost 
 to advance the interests of that cause in which he had 
 so heroically and patriotically engaged. 
 
 The energy of mind, the unshaken firmness, and un 
 wearied exertions of Washington, enabled him to sus 
 tain himself under all the difficulties which surrounded 
 him. deduced as his army was, and a large portion of 
 what remained, from sickness and privations, unfit for 
 duty, nothing but the commanding position he had cho 
 sen, and the vigilance with which his camp was guar 
 ded, could have secured him against attack, situated in 
 the vicinity of an opposing army of nearly twenty thou 
 sand strong, well armed and equipped, and possessing 
 all the means ot war. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Consequences of the fortunate termination of the campaign in the north Treaty witti 
 France] La Fayette appointed to command an expedition against Canada it is given 
 up His successful retreat from Beacon Hill, near Philadelphia He challenge* Lord 
 Carlisle Enti rprige against Rhode Island, and conduct ot La Faytlte He return* 
 to France is received with great joy and respect exerts his influence with the gov 
 ernment to induce it toaflbru more ample assistance to America sails again for the 
 United States. 
 
 IP little glory or advantage had been acquired in the 
 campaign in the middle states, that in the north had 
 been still more unfortunate. Commenced with high 
 hopes, which were still more inflated by flattering cir 
 cumstances of success that attended its early opera 
 tions, it terminated on the plains of Saratoga most glo 
 riously to the American arms, and most advantageously 
 to the cause in which she was engaged, but to the inex 
 pressible disappointment and mortification of Britain. 
 
MARqUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 467 
 
 An army of ten thousand men, veteran and experienced 
 troops, under an able and enterprising commander, well 
 equipped and provided, opposed only by a greatly infe 
 rior force of regulars anil the militia of the country, in 
 spired the highest expectation. Such an army, with 
 such a leader, it was believed would march through a 
 country destitute of fortresses, and so feebly defended, 
 without difficulty and without danger. It was expec 
 ted to compel the submission or all the northern part of 
 the State of New- York, and, by forming a junction 
 with the forces of Sir Henry Clinton, on the Hudson, 
 establish the authority of Britain over the entire State 
 of New York, so important from its position, a id in 
 every other respect. 
 
 But this formidable army and array of power and all 
 the hopes depending on them, were annihilated in a few 
 months. The sun of Burgoyne s glory, which rose 
 with such brightness, was soon overcast with clouds, 
 and set in darkness and in blood. It is thus the hopes 
 of man perish! On the seventeenth of October, 77, 
 the remains of General Burgoyne s army, amounting 
 then to nearly six thousand men, was surrendered to 
 the Americans, under the command of General Gates. 
 
 This was the most important event since the com 
 mencement of the war, and gave the first serious shock 
 to British power in America. It was not the capture 
 of six thousand men, and the withdrawal of that force 
 from the troops employed by the enemy, that gave im 
 portance to this victory; this loss to the British army 
 might easily be supplied; but it was the moral influence 
 of this victory, not only in America, but in Europe, 
 which gave it its importance. It revived the hopes of 
 the Americans, and inspired fresh confidence; it in 
 creased the respect and authority of congress, anima 
 ted the continental armies, and gave activity to the re 
 cruiting service. But its influence abroad was scarcely 
 less important than at home; it decided the policy of 
 France, and enabled tbe American Commissioners to 
 conclude a treaty of amity and alliance with her, which 
 they had been endeavouring to effect since 1776. This 
 treaty, which had so important a bearing on the Amer- 
 
468 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ican Revolution, was concluded on the 6th of February, 
 1778, by Count de Vergennes, on the part of France, and 
 Dr. Franklin, Arthur Lee, and Silas Deane, on the part 
 of the United States. 
 
 Until the capture of Burgoyne s army, France had 
 not sufficient confidence in the ultimate success of the 
 Americans, to be induced, by all the exertions of Frank 
 lin and his associates, assisted by the influence of La 
 Fayette and his friends in France, to openly acknowl 
 edge the independence of the United States; but the 
 destruction of an army of ten thousand men inspired 
 such reliance on the firmness and ability of America, to 
 maintain the character she had assumed, that France 
 not only acknowledged her independence, but agreed 
 to become herself a party in the war. Immediately 
 after the conclusion of the treaty, the American Com* 
 missioners were presented to the king, and Dr. Franklin 
 accredited as Minister Plenipotentiary of the United 
 States to the Court of France. 
 
 The news of the treaty with France, filled America 
 with joy; it animated the heart of the patriot and ner 
 ved the arm of the warrior. From the zeal of La Fay 
 ette in the cause of American liberty, and from his 
 long continued exertions and anxiety, to induce his na 
 tive France, to afford her assistance, no one rejoiced 
 more sincerely at this heart-cheering intelligence, than 
 this disinterested patriot. Being one of the first who 
 receved the news, he could not forgo the pleasure of 
 being the- bearer himself of so agreeable intelligence 
 to the commander in chief; who immediately ordered 
 the troops (o be assembled in brigades, the treaty to 
 be read, prayers and thanksgivings to be publicly offered 
 up to that Being who turneth the hearts of Kings as 
 the rivers are turned." This was followed by a general 
 discharge of cannon, which resounded through tnc 
 camp, accompanied with every other demonstration of 
 joy. At a given signal, the whole army cried out at 
 once, Long live the King of France! In the admira 
 tion and gratitude manifested toward France La Kay- 
 ette came in for a share; crowds gathered around him, 
 and vied with each other in expressing their congratula- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 469 
 
 tions on the occasion, and their sense of the importance 
 of his exertions and influence in producing this long 
 desired connexion between the two countries. 
 
 A plan had been formed in conjunction with La Fay- 
 ette and Mr. Gerard, the French minister, for the con 
 quest of Canada. Dr. Franklin was instructed to lay 
 his plan before the court of France, a co-operation on 
 her part being expected. This project originated with 
 the French minister, and has been supposed to have 
 had other objects in view, than to aid the cause of the 
 United States. That the recovery of her lost posses 
 sions, in America, was an object that France looked 
 upon, as a possible result from the struggle for the estab 
 lishment of the independence of the United States, is 
 neither unreasonable nor improbable. But that this en 
 terprise was proposed to deceive the United States, 
 and divert their forces to an object no way inter 
 esting to them, or that it was conceived without regard 
 to their interests, is a position that is unsupported. But, 
 however this may be, the character of the Marquis de 
 La Fayette, his high sense of honour, the zeal which he 
 had manifested in the cause of America, his chivalrous 
 spirit and ardent love of glory, forbid any suspicion that 
 he was acquainted with any such ultimate designs on 
 the part of France, as have been suggested, if any such 
 were entertained; he acted from more noble and exalt* 
 ed feelings; the hope of acquiring military fame, and 
 advancing the cause of independence and liberty. 
 
 Early in the year 78, the Marquis proceeded, by the 
 direction of Washington, to Albany, where a force was 
 collecting for carrying into execution the enterprise 
 against Canada. The plan of operations was, to pro 
 ceed from that place, with a suitable force, pass the 
 Ifikeson the ice and seize on Montreal and St. John s. 
 Various expedients had been devised to overcome the 
 obstacles of the enterprise ; but on Fayette s arrival at 
 Albany, he found neither men. ammunition or provisions 
 adequate to the undertaking. From the dilatory move 
 ments in making the preparations for the expedition, it 
 was so much delayed that a thaw supervened, which 
 with other obstacles occasioned its abandonment. The 
 
470 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ardour of youth, and love of glory, with the temptation 
 of an independent command, so flattering to a young 
 officer, did not warp the judgment of La Fayette,and 
 lead him to pursue an enterprise, under such circum 
 stances as that it could scarcely have avoided a disas 
 trous termination. With the foresight of age, and the 
 wisdom of experience, the youthful hero abandoned the 
 expedition; and congress was so satisfied with the pru 
 dence and propriety of this measure, that they express 
 ed their approbation of his conduct by a vote of thanks. 
 
 To improve the occasion to the best advantage, which 
 the news of the treaty with France presented, congress 
 prepared "an address to the inhabitants of the United 
 States of America," which in addition to being published 
 in all the Gazettes, was ordered to be read from the 
 pulpit by every minister of the gospel in the country. 
 This state paper, contained an eloquent appeal to the 
 patriotism of the people, which was invoked by every 
 principle of honour, justice, and interest. And in the 
 warmth and liberality of feeling, which the occasion 
 had excited, congress adopted a resolution, granting 
 half-pay for life, to all officers who should serve during 
 the war. This resolution became a fruitful source of 
 uneasiness and difficulty as it respected the army and 
 the people; the grant was afterward commuted to full 
 pay for five years. 
 
 The favourable impulse, which had been given to 
 public opinion in the United States, by the capture of 
 Burgoyne, was greatly increased by the treaty of amity 
 and alliance with France, and the expected co-opera 
 tion of that power in the war. Confidence was restored, 
 and a spirit of patriotism revived; activity was exhib 
 ited in the recruiting service, and the zeal and patriotism 
 of individuals led to the most honourable exertions to 
 provide ways and means for provisioning the army. A 
 large fund vvas raised by subscription in Philadelphia, 
 to encourage the recruiting service and to reward such 
 as might distinguish themselves by their exertions to 
 fill up the ranks of the army. A society was formed, 
 and a subscription set on foot, which produced nearly 
 two hundred thousand pounds sterling, that constituted 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYfiTTE. 471 
 
 fund or stock, for provisioning the army. The ladies of 
 Philadelphia, on this occasion, were not behind the men 
 in patriotism and zeal in the cause of their country. 
 They formed contribution societies, and the example of 
 the metropolis being followed by the rest of the state, 
 more than 150,000 dollars were collected and forwarded 
 to the army. To their great honour, many contributed 
 their jesvels, and other valuable superfluities, to supply 
 the wants and add to the comforts of the soldiers who 
 were fighting for their protection and the liberties of the 
 country. 
 
 In May 78, Sir William Howe, having requested per 
 mission to return to England, was succeeded in the 
 command of the British army, by Sir Henry Clinton; 
 who, on the 18th of the month, gave a brilliant enter 
 tainment, which lasted twelve hours. Gen. Washington, 
 whose army had been considerably reinforced, on learn 
 ing this fact, ordered General La Fayette to proceed 
 from the head quarters of the army at Valley Forge, 
 and attack the enemy, should an opportunity offer. 
 Accordingly, with a detachment of 2,500 men, he cross 
 ed the SchuylkiU and took a position on Beacon Hill, 
 about twelve miles in advance of the American camp. 
 Here he intended to pass the night and watch the ene 
 my s movements, and take advantage of any circum 
 stances which might favour his designs. But Sir Henry 
 Clinton being informed of this movement, ordered Gen. 
 Grant with three thousand troops to surprise La Fayette, 
 and cut off his retreat: and the Marquis being ignorant 
 of this movement, General Grant, by a circuitous route, 
 succeeded in taking a position about two miles in the 
 rear of La Fayette. At the same time, a large force 
 marched from Philadelphia, to attack him in front. His 
 situation was critical, and General Grant considered his 
 destruction as certain; and had he had the precaution 
 to have secured Matron Fort, a post on the SchuylkiU. 
 he would probably have been correct. But the Marquis 
 perceiving the enemy marching to attack him, both in 
 front and in rear, aware of their design, filed off his 
 troops in good order, and moved with such rapidity as 
 to reach Matron Fort, a distance -of about one mile, and 
 
472 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 to pass the river before the enemy came up. Although 
 the success of this retreat is in some measure attributed 
 to the oversight of the enemy; yet the conduct of tfie 
 Marquis was such as would have done honour to the 
 most experienced general. It is one of the highest at 
 tributes of a skilful general, to be able promptly to. take 
 advantage of every circumstance which may favour his 
 plans, especially in extricating himself from unexpected 
 difficulties. The loss of so considerable a portion of 
 the American army, at the time when the campaign was 
 about to open, would have been a very serious embar 
 rassment to the intended operations. The salvation of 
 the American troops therefore, by the address and skill 
 of La Fayette, excited great joy, and his own conduct 
 much admiration and applause; and with no one more 
 than Washington who received the young hero with 
 every mark of satisfaction. Early in June, the British 
 commissioners, the Earl of Carlisle, Mr. Eden, and Gov 
 ernor Johnstone arrived at Philadelphia, with authority 
 to negotiate a peace between Britain and the United 
 States. Sir Henry Clinton was also joined in the com 
 mission, and the celebrated Dr. Fergu-rson was its sec 
 retary. An attempt was immediately made to open a 
 negotiation; but Washington refused a passport to the 
 secretary, which compelled the commissioners to have 
 recourse to correspondence. Their first letter was very 
 complimentary to congress, and expressed a willingness 
 to make every concession, short of acknowledging the 
 independence of the United States. Congress replied 
 with great firmness and dignity through their president, 
 that they could not negotiate as the subjects of his Bri 
 tannic Majesty, and that, however desirous they were 
 for peace, the recognition of the independence of the 
 United States, must be a preliminary step to any negoti 
 ation. The commissioners, in their answer, said that 
 they had already admitted a degree of independence* And. 
 that they were disposed to go farther, if congress would 
 communicate to them the powers with which they were 
 authorized to treat with foreign nations. To this artful 
 communication, congress believed they consulted their 
 dignity best by their silence; and thus the negotiation 
 ended. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 473 
 
 Having failed in their attempt at outwitting congress 
 by their diplomatic arts, the commissioners had recourse 
 to the most shameful attempts at corruption. A direct 
 bribe of ten thousand pounds sterling, was offered to Mr. 
 Reed if he would further the views of the commissioners. 
 Mr. Reed s reply was worthy a true patriot and of the 
 times that tried men s integrity: "Although I hardly 
 consider myself, (said he) worth purchasing, yet the 
 King of Britain is not rich enough, to do it. The next 
 attempt was made on Robert Morris and Francis Dana, 
 with the same success. The commissioners soon found 
 that British gold was as little efficacious as British 
 arms in reducing America The commissioners in their 
 communications made several offensive insinuations re 
 specting the intentions and policy of France. This met 
 the decided disapprobation of congress, offended the 
 people, and so exasperated La Fayette, that he con 
 ceived himself bound to challenge Lord Carlisle, presi 
 dent of the bofird of commissioners; which he accor 
 dingly did, leaving to him the choice of arms. This 
 step, which, under other circumstances might have been 
 regarded as the bravado of a rash and presumptuous 
 young man, was well approved of, and was not entirely 
 useless. As commissioners, Lord Carlisle could not 
 accept the challenge, and it was properly declined. 
 The commissioners having rendered themselves odious, 
 and from the general feeling toward them, this procedure 
 of La Fayette, was gratifying to the public mind, and 
 contributed in some measure, to lessen the importance 
 of the commissioners, in the eyes of the common people. 
 The spirited manner, in which the Marquis had resented 
 the intimation that France was actuated by selfish and 
 dishonourable views, in her conduct towards the United 
 States, seemed to confirm the confidence of the people 
 in their allies; and the readiness with which he offered 
 to expose his life in every way, to serve the American 
 cause, tended to raise his reputation for courage, and 
 increase his popularity and influence. Apprehending a 
 fleet and an auxiliary force from France, secret orders 
 had been sent out by one of the commissioners to Sir 
 Henry Clinton, for him to evacuate Philadelphia, and 
 
 M3 
 
474 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETlE. 
 
 return to New York with his army, with as little delay 
 as possible. He accordingly prepared to obey the or 
 der, and soon was ready to move. 
 
 "Washington, as soon as he became sensible of the 
 enemy s intention of abandoning Philadelphia, called a 
 council of the officers, to consider the expediency of 
 inv iting a general engagement, which, as he could bring 
 near eleven thousand men into the field, he thought ad 
 visable. But his officers determined otherwise, and 
 Washington for a few days yielded to their advice. He 
 however, in the mean time, sent Morgan, with 600 men, 
 to reinforce General Maxwell s brigade, with orders to 
 obstruct the progress of the enemy as much as possible 
 through the Jerseys; while he himself with the main 
 army moved towards Corryell s Ferry, that he might be 
 ready to seize an advantageous opportunity that might 
 offer for a general attack. The progress of Clinton, 
 encumbered as he was with an enormous quantity of 
 heavy baggage, was necessarily slow for in addition to 
 the usual baggage, and provision for such an army, he 
 had provided against the possibility of suffering in case 
 of unexpected delays in his march, by a store of provis 
 ions sufficient to have lasted him for a month ; so that his 
 baggage wagons, horses, and carts, resembled the suite 
 of an army of a hundred thousand men, and covered 
 almost as great an extent of ground. Upon reaching 
 Mount Holly, Clinton, contrary to the expectation of 
 Washington, took the road towards Sandy-Hook, intsead 
 of keeping to the left towards the Raritan, and thus in 
 duced Washington to suppose that his object was to 
 draw him into an engagement in the flat country, and 
 then by a rapid chnnge of motion to pursue the route to 
 Brunswick. But Clinton was neither anxious to seek 
 nor to avoid an engagement; he had chosen that route, 
 most probably because he thought it possible that Gen. 
 Gates might form a junction with Washington at the 
 Raritan, and thus cut off his retreat. Whatever might 
 have been his object, Washington was for a time deceiv 
 ed by it; but the moment he discovered that Clinton 
 meant to pursue his course to the sea-coast, he deter 
 mined not to let him escape without battle. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 475 
 
 With this view, he despatched a body of troops under 
 the Marquis de La Fayette, with orders to approach 
 and harass the enemy s rear, while he moved on with 
 the main army to his support. Clinton, supposing from 
 this measure that Washington s object was simply to 
 out off his baggage, placed his whole train of incum- 
 brances in the front, under the orders and protection of 
 General Knyphausen, and remained himself with the 
 main body of his army, to check the attempts of the 
 Marquis de La Fayette. This made > it necessary for 
 Washington to send a larger force to the aid of the Mar 
 quis, and two brigades being ordered to join him, the 
 whole force was placed under the command of Major 
 General Lee. Clinton, with his whole army, lay at 
 Monmouth, a few miles from the heights of Middletown; 
 it was important therefore that the attack should be 
 made before he could reach so advantageous a position. 
 At day-light on the morning of the 28th, Gen. Knyphau- 
 sen moved on from Monmouth with the baggage, while 
 Sir Henry with the elite Qi the army, maintained his po 
 sition until eight o clock. Upon receiving intelligence 
 of this movement, Washington sent orders to Lee at 
 Englishtown, seven miles from Monmouth, to march on 
 to the attack of the British rear; unless there should 
 appear "very powerful reasons" to deter him-^giving him 
 information, at the same time, that he was approaching 
 to his support. 
 
 Lee lost no time in putting his troops into motion, and 
 by the time he had advanced within a few miles of Mon 
 mouth, he discovered that Clinton was also in motion, 
 and advancing to meet him. Gen. Grayson, with the 
 two brigades of Scott and Varnum led the van of Lee s 
 division, and were soon joined by the Marquis de La 
 Fayette. The whole party seemed to be at a J^ss to 
 understand the movements of the enemy, and continued 
 to pass and repass the ravines which every w/iere inter 
 sect this part of the country. In this state of indecision, 
 Cornwallis, who led the van of the enepiy, made a fu 
 rious charge with his dragoons upop the Marquis de 
 La Fayette, and drove him back in some confusion. 
 Lee, in the mean time, under supposition that Cornwal- 
 
476 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 lis was detached from the main army, made a feint of 
 retreating, that he might draw the general after him ; but 
 on< of his officers. General Scott, who had under him 
 the greater part of Lee s forces, misunderstood the or 
 ders, and actually retreated. This obliged Lee to fol 
 low until he could overtake him, the army hanging upon 
 his rear. In this situation he was met by Washington, 
 who, vexed at a supposed disobedience of his orders, 
 accosted him with rather more vehemence than the hot 
 temper of Lee could brook; he refused to explain his 
 conduct, and a warm altercation ensued. 
 
 Washington, now himself at the head of the army, 
 moved on to battle, and a general action was soon 
 brought on which lasted through the whole of one of 
 the hottest days in summer. 
 
 Lee, who had been ordered again to lead the van, 
 met the whole shock of the British advance, which he 
 sustained with his usual gallantry until so closely pursu 
 ed by the British horse, that his troops gave way, and 
 he was again compelled to retreat; which he did with 
 the most perfect order and coolness. Before the retreat 
 of Lee, General Greene moved up with his division, and 
 in conjunction ^ith General Wayne, took such a position 
 that the British gave way, and retired behind a defile; 
 where before any disposition could be made to attack 
 them, night came on and both armies drew off from the 
 contest. 
 
 No advantage was gained to either party by this hard 
 fought battle ; nor was the loss very great on either side. 
 The British left on the n>ld two hundred and forty nine, 
 who were afterward buried by our men, besides those 
 that were buried by their own men during the night and 
 forty four wounded. Among their killed was Lieuten 
 ant C&lonel Monckton, an officer of considerable dis 
 tinction. 
 
 The Americans lost 69 killed, and 160 wounded. 
 Among the lulled, were Lieut. Col. Bonner, and Major 
 Dickman. M^, y o f the soldiers of both armies fell 
 dead upon the fifcld, from excess of fatigue and heat. 
 
 Washington lay ^on his arms all night, expecting to 
 renew the attack in tht mO rning; but Sir Henry jlnton 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 477 
 
 disappointed him by moving off at midnight with his 
 whole army; and as Washington thought he might very 
 justly claim the victory, was not in a situation to pursue 
 him over the deep sands of Jersey, he continued his route 
 without further molestation to New-Y ork. Washington, 
 after refreshing his wearied troops, and providing as fat 
 as possible for the comfort of the wounded, moved on at 
 his leisure towards the Hudson."* 
 
 Lord Howe had scarcely left the Delaware, with the 
 British fleet, before Count D Estaing, with a much supe 
 rior force, appeared on the coast of Virginia, anJI in a 
 few days came into the mouth of the Delaware. His 
 object was to have surprised the British fleet at Phila 
 delphia; and had not his voyage been prolonged by bad 
 weather, he could hardly have failed of doing it: had 
 he arrived ten days earlier, the enemy s fleet, and prob 
 ably their army, must have fallen. The Count D Es 
 taing, haying set on shore, M. Gerard, the French min 
 ister, sailed for New-York, and on the 1 1th day of July 
 commenced the blockade of the British fleet in that 
 harbour. He made several attempts to enter the har 
 bour, but could not get his large ships over the bar; a 
 great number of English vessels, loaded with provisions 
 and other stores for the army, which daily arrived, fell 
 into his hands. On the 22d he sailed for Newport, to 
 co-operate with the American troops for the reduction 
 of the British force on Rhode-Island. The enemy had 
 6,000 men on Rhode-Island, under Gen. Pigot, which 
 had remained there since December 76. Washington 
 had formed aplan of fitting out an expedition to Rhode- 
 Island, to destroy the enemy s forces there, which WHS 
 intrusted to General Sullivan: La Fayette with 2,000 
 men was ordered on this expedition, to reinforce Gener 
 al Sullivan. On the 8th of August, the French fleet 
 entered the harbour of Newport, the British having pre 
 viously, and to prevent their falling into the hands of 
 the French, burned and sunk six vessels that lay in the 
 harbour. On the following day, Lord Howe made his 
 appearance not far from Point Judith, with his squad- 
 
 "Allen s Revolution. 
 
478 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ron, considerably increased. Count D Estaing being 
 informed of this, immediately sailed in pursuit, vvitb a 
 view to bring him to action: but the tempestuous state 
 of the weather frustrated the efforts of both fleets, and 
 after three days, during which the storm lasted, each 
 party seemed satisfied to leave the great question of 
 superiority undecided. The moment tbat Count D Es- 
 taing left the harbour, General Sullivan embarked with 
 his troops, at Tiverton, for Rhode-Island, but from the 
 unfavourableness of the weather, it was eight days be 
 fore he could bring himself before the enemy. He was 
 sensible that all his hopes of success, depended on the 
 co-operation of Count D Estaing, and as he manifest d 
 no intention of returning into the harbour, General Sul 
 livan deputed General Greene and the Marquis -de La 
 Fayette, to visit the count, and request his immediate 
 return into the harbour. He seemed willing himself to 
 do this, but hi officers unanimously opposed jt and urged 
 his proceeding immediately to Boston to refit, agreeably 
 to his instructions; and not having firmness enough to 
 resist their united opinion, he accordingly sailed for 
 Boston. Gen. Greene and La Fayette returned, much 
 dissatisfied with the result of their mission. The con 
 duct of the French officers, excited loud and general 
 disapprobation with the Americans; and a formal pro 
 test, signed by all the American officers, except La 
 Fayette, was drawn up, against the conduct of the 
 French admiral, in abandoning the expedition, at a time, 
 when, with his co-operation, they had every reason to 
 expect success; which was represented as derogatory 
 to the honour of France. This produced no other effect 
 than a spirited reply from the Count. 
 
 It was no sooner known that Count D Esta mg had 
 sailed to Boston, than the militia and volunteers began 
 to move off, and in a few days General Sullivan found 
 his force so reduced, that it became necessary to aban 
 don his original design, and prepare for evacuating the 
 island. On the 28th a council of war was held, at 
 which it was determined to retire to the northern ex 
 tremity of the island, and to remain there long enough 
 lo make a further effort to induce the French admiral to 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 479 
 
 return with his squadron. In effecting this movement, 
 a severe action was hrought on, between a part of the 
 American army under Gen. Greene, consisting of about 
 1200 men, and four British regiments and a party of 
 Hessians. The engagement lasted all the afternoon of 
 the 29th, and terminated without any great advantage 
 to either party. Gen. Sullivan, closely pursued by two 
 large detachments of the enemy s troops, conducted 
 the retreat with great ability and success. The rear 
 guard, that covered the retreat, receiving a reinforce 
 ment, turned the attack on the enemy, and repulsed 
 them with a loss of between two and three hundred 
 men. 
 
 In the meantime the Marquis de La Fayette, had 
 been despatched to Boston, to make another effort to 
 induce the French admiral to return with the fleet. 
 Such was his ardour and expedition, that he arrived in 
 Boston, a distance of seventy miles, in seven hours. 
 He had a long interview with the admiral and his offi 
 cers, in which he left no means untried to induce him 
 to return with his fleet, but without effect. The officers 
 of the squadron refused to depart from their first deter 
 mination, and the Marquis was again mortified by the 
 failure of a second attempt to persuade his countrymen 
 to afford that assistance to the Americans, which the 
 latter considered they had a right to expect. The 
 Count, however, was so far influenced by his represen 
 tations, that he offered him what land forces he could 
 spare, to co-operate with the American troops on Rhode 
 Island. 
 
 La Fayette returned from Boston in about six hours 
 and a half, and arrived near midnight on the 30th of 
 August, at the very time the American army was re 
 treating. He was disappointed and mortified on learn 
 ing that an action had taken place the day before, as 
 he expected to have got back in season to take a part 
 in it. He, however, had an opportunity to assist in 
 conducting the retreat, and was assigned to command 
 the troops that were to cover the retreating army. This 
 difficult service, he performed with such coolness, intre 
 pidity, and address, that he did not sustain the lo$s of 
 
480 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 a single man. The details of this skilful and mas 
 terly retreat, were recorded at length in the public re 
 gisters. 
 
 The zeal the Marquis had shown for the interests of 
 the United States, the sacrifice of feeling he made by 
 repairing to Boston, at the time when an action was mo 
 mentarily expected, and the courage and ability with 
 which he conducted the retreat after his return, gave 
 great satisfaction to congress, who testified the same by 
 the following resolution: 
 
 ^Resolved, that the President be requested to inform 
 the Marquis de La Fayette, that Congress have a prop 
 er sense of the sacrifice he made of his personal feelings, 
 in repairing to Boston to promote the interest of the 
 States, at a time, when he momentarily expected an op 
 portunity of distinguishing himself in the field; and that 
 the bravery which he displayed on his return to Rhode 
 Island, when the greater part of the army had already 
 effected its retreat, together with the ability with which 
 he withdrew the piquets and advanced posts, merits the 
 unqualified approbation of this Assembly." 
 
 This resolution was accompanied by the following 
 letter from Mr. Henry Laurens, President of the Con 
 gress, to the Marquis de La Fayette, Major General in 
 the United States army: 
 
 Philadelphia, 13th Oct. 1778. 
 
 "SiR I feel a peculiar pleasure in fulfilling the instructions implied by 
 a resolution of Congress, passed on the 9ih inst. and herewith enclosed, 
 expressing the sentiments of the Representatives of the United States, 
 with regard to your conduct during the recent expedition, undertaken 
 against Rhode Island. 
 
 "You will but render, sir, an act of justice to Congress, by regarding 
 this testimonial as a tribute of respect and gratitude, offered by a free 
 people to one who has rendered them essential services. I have the 
 honour," &c. 
 
 The following is the Marquis s reply: 
 
 Head-Quarters, 23d Oct 1778 
 
 "SiR-J have this instant received the letter which you did me the fa 
 vour to write, under date of the 13th inst. in which you inform me of 
 the honour which Congress has deemed fit to confer on me, by its very 
 flattering resolution. Proud as I am of such distinguishing approbation, 
 F am rmt the less grateful to find that my efforts have been, in a measure, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 483 
 
 regarded as useful lo a cause, in which I have taken so deep and so lively 
 an interest. Be pleased, sir, to present to Congress my unfeigned and 
 heartfelt thanks, accompanied with the assurances of my sincere attach 
 ment, the only homage which is worthy of heing offered to the represents 
 tives of a free people. 
 
 "From the moment I first heard the name of America, I began to love 
 her; from the moment I understood that she was struggling for her liber 
 ties, I burned to shed my best blood in her glorious cause; and the days 
 I shall devote to the service of America, wherever and whenever it may 
 be, will constitute the happiest of rny life. Yet I never so ardently de 
 sired, as I do now, to deserve the generous sentiments with which these 
 States and their representatives have honoured me: and the flattering con 
 fidence which they have so freely reposed in me, has filled my breast 
 with the most lively gratitude, and the most lasting affection." 
 
 With the expedition on Rhode Island, ended the 
 campaign of 78, being the first after the alliance with 
 France, in which nothing was gained to either party. 
 Several unfortunate contingences, and the skill and 
 gallantry of Lord Howe, although possessing only an 
 inferior force, prevented the Count D Estaing from ren 
 dering us any important service. But the arrival of the 
 French fleet was by no means without its advantage; 
 it not only afforded unequivocal assurance of the friend* 
 ship of France, but also that she felt so far interested in 
 the contest, as to be willing to become, in some measure, 
 a party to the war, or at least to assume a portion of 
 the burdens of it, by assisting in carrying it on. This 
 consideration seemed to animate our armies and the 
 people, and to keep up a spirit of activity in our resis 
 tance. 
 
 About this time La Fayettc received letters from his 
 friends in France, which acquainted him with the sensa 
 tion that had been produced in England, by the alliance 
 between France and America, and the assistance affor 
 ded the Americans, both by public forces and individ 
 uals, the subjects of France; and assuring him, it was 
 the general expectation, that war would soon be declar 
 ed by Great Britain against his native country. The 
 ardour with which the Marquis was then engaged in 
 the service of America, and the field of glory that lay 
 open to him, did not lead him to forget that he was a 
 Frenchman; and his obligations to his native country, 
 when she required his services, he considered as greater 
 
 N3 
 
484 MARQUIS I>E LA FAYETTE. 
 
 than those he owed to America, which he regarded as 
 his adopted country. Under these circumstances, he 
 did not hesitate a moment, but resolved to return to 
 France. He felt more strongly the obligation to pursue 
 this course, from the consideration that his conduct arid 
 example in serving America had contributed in some 
 degree, to involve his own country in war. But he cal 
 culated that his return to France, would not deprive 
 him of the power of serving America, for he had reason 
 to believe he should be able to render her important 
 assistance at home. 
 
 Before he left the head quarters of the army, he com 
 municated to Washington his opinion respecting the 
 assistance to be afforded by France, which was, that 
 in order to be of any essential benefit to America, she 
 must send an adequate naval and land force, and put it 
 under the immediate control of the Arrterican comman 
 der in chief. Unless the French forces were under the 
 Command of the American general, the same difficulties 
 which were experienced in the case of Count D Es- 
 taing, might be expected to occur, and would render the 
 co-operation of France of little service. A French na 
 val or military officer might allege, as had once been 
 done, the secret orders of his sovereign, whenever he 
 wished to avoid a dangerous or disagreeable employ 
 ment. 
 
 The modesty of Washington would not permit him 
 to concur decidedly in the Marquis s opinions, although 
 it was apparent that he approved of them. According 
 ly he wrote to his friends in France, who possessed any 
 influence at court, that if the French government really 
 wished to aid the American cause, it must send out a 
 larger auxiliary force, and submit it to the immediate 
 command of the American commander in chief, whom 
 he took care to give such a character as to inspire the 
 highest confidence. 
 
 In October, La Fayette left the head-quarters of the 
 army, took leave of his beloved Washington, and pro 
 ceeded to Philadelphia, where congress were in session, 
 to request permission to return to France. He presen 
 ted to congress a letter from Washington, and another 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 48$ 
 
 written by himself, which disclosed his views and objects 
 in the request he made; and the subjoined resolution, 
 adopted thereon, shows the high opinion congress had 
 of his merits at that time: 
 
 I Congress, Oct. 21, 1778. 
 
 Resolved, That the Marquis La Fayette, Major General in the services 
 of the United States, have lea ye to go to France; and that he return at 
 such time as shalj be most convenient to him. 
 
 Resolved, That the President write a letter to the Marquis La Fayette, 
 returning him the thanks of Congress, for that disinterested zeal which 
 led him to America^ and for the services he hath rendered the United 
 States, by the exertion of his courage and abilities on many signal oc 
 casions. 
 
 Resolved, That the Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States of 
 America, at the Court of Versailles, be directed to cause an elegant sword, 
 with proper devices, to be made .and presented in the name of the United 
 States, to the Marquis La Fayette." 
 
 The foregoing resolves were communicated to the 
 Marquis in the following letter. 
 
 "Philadelphia, Oct. 2 4, 1778. 
 
 SIR I had the honour of presenting to congress your letter, soliciting 
 leave of absence. lam directed by them to express their thanks for 
 your zeal in promoting that just cause in which they are engaged, and for 
 the disinterested services you have rendered to the United States of 
 America. 
 
 In testimony of the high esteem and affection in which you are held 
 by the good people of these States, as well as an acknowledgment of 
 your gallantry and military talents, displayed on many signal occasions, 
 their representatives, in congress assembled, have ordered an elegant 
 sword to be presented to you, by the American Minister at the Court of 
 Versailles. Enclosed within the present cover, will be found an act of 
 congress of the 21st inst., authorizing these declarations, and granting a 
 furlough for your return to France, to be extended at your own pleasure. 
 I pray God to bless and protect you; to conduct you in safety to the 
 presence of your Prince, and to the re-enjoyment of your noble family 
 and friends. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &-c. 
 
 H. LAUBENS." 
 
 To this note the Marquis made the following reply: 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 26, 1778. 
 
 SIR I have received your Excellency s obliging letter, enclosing the 
 several resolutions congress have honoured me with, and the leave of ab 
 sence they have been pleased to grant. Nothing can make me happier, 
 than the reflection that my services have met with their approbation. The 
 
186 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 glorious testimonial of confidence and satisfaction respectfully bestowed 
 on me by the representatives of America, though much superior to my 
 merit, cannot exceed the grateful sentiments they have excited. I con 
 sider the noble present offered me in the name of the United States, as 
 the most flattering honour. It is my most fervent desire, soon to employ 
 that sxvord in their service, against the common enemy of my country 
 and their faithful and beloved allies. That liberty, safety, wealth, and 
 concord may ever extend and bless these United States, is the earnest 
 wish of a heart glowing with a devoted zeal and unbounded love for them, 
 and the highest regard, and most sincere aifection for their represen 
 tatives. 
 
 Be pleased, Sir, to present my thanks to them, and to accept yourself 
 the assurance of my respectful attachment. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 
 In January, 1779, he embarked at Boston, carrying 
 with him an undiminished attachment to the cause he 
 had espoused and the gratitude of the American people. 
 The regrets which his departure occasioned, were alle- 
 viiited by the expectation that he would still continue to 
 exert himself in the cause of America, and that his in 
 fluence at home might be as useful as his services in the 
 field. 
 
 His character and situation, at this time, were with 
 out any example in history. He possessed the admira 
 tion of France and America, and of the friends of liberty 
 through the world; he connected, in some measure, the 
 interests of two hemispheres, and exerted an important 
 influence on the destinies of the human race. His de 
 votion to the cause of liberty, and his heroic achieve 
 ments in the field, in its support, were known throughout 
 the civilized world; and all this when he was but 22 
 years of age. What monarch might not have envied this 
 young hero and patriot ? His fame had gone before him, 
 and on his arrival at Havre, he was welcomed by his 
 countrymen, with all that enthusiasm which is peculiar 
 to their character. His disinterested patriotism, attend 
 ed with the sacrifice of a considerable portion of his 
 fortune; his chivalrous heroism, which shed his blood 
 in the field of battle, and the distinguished honour which 
 had been shown him in America, excited their highest 
 admiration. His popularity, if not equally great with 
 all parties, extended to all; notwithstanding, an order 
 was issued by the king, directing him to visit no one at 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 487 
 
 court but his relations, as a pretence of censure for his 
 having left France without permission. 
 
 Among his admirers, was the young queen, Marie 
 Antoinette, then justly celebrated for her beauty, vivaci 
 ty, and wit, and afterward not less distinguished for her 
 misfortunes. She possessed a mind richly endowed and 
 highly cultivated, open and generous. The munificence, 
 devotion, and chivalrous spirit of the young Marquis, 
 made a strong impression on her heart, and she became 
 his greatest admirer and protectress. She honoured 
 him with many private audiences, and was extremely 
 inquisitive about every thing relating to America, and 
 particularly as to the character of Washington. This 
 was a theme fruitful in itself, which excited all the en 
 thusiasm of La Fayette, and the partiality of the friend 
 and the fidelity of the soldier were manifested with ar 
 dour of feeling, earnestness of manner, and eloquence of 
 language, which could not fail of making a. deep and 
 lasting impression on a generous and susceptible mind. 
 The queen, when she afterward saw Dr. Franklin, with 
 great affability observed, "Doctor, do you know that La 
 Fayette has made me in love with your General Wash 
 ington? What a man he must be^and what a friend he 
 possesses in the marquis?" 
 
 He arrived at Versailles on the 12th of February, and 
 the next morning had an interview with one of the min 
 isters, but did not see the king. 
 
 The cause of America, at this time, when a war was 
 almost daily expected with England, being universally 
 popular in France, La Fayette was not more the object 
 of the enthusiastic admiration of the people, than of the 
 respectful attention of the king and the ministry. Co^it 
 de Vergennes, a man of great talents and experience,, 
 then at the head of affairs, had frequent and Jong con~ 
 ferences with the marquis, in which the latter endfeav- 
 oured to convince the minister of the policy, even as it 
 respected the interests of France, of sending a larger 
 force, and more ample supplies, to the assistance of the 
 Americans ; and:particularly of the necessity of submit 
 ting the direction of these forces to the government of 
 the United States. This last point was one of 
 
488 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 greatest delicacy and difficulty, but being seconded in 
 his endevours by the late minister to the United States, 
 and his numerous friends, he at length succeeded in con 
 vincing the ministers of the expediency and propriety 
 of the measures recommended by him. Accordingly 
 orders were soon issued for the equipment of a large 
 fleet, which was to take on board a numerous body of 
 troops. 
 
 These measures of the government being known, the 
 spirit of the day, the influence of the example of La 
 Fayette, and the fame he had acquired in America, pro 
 duced an effect not more novel than honourable to the 
 character of France. The American war became the 
 popular subject of the day,and a perfect mania prevailed, 
 which affected all classes; but the young nobility were 
 the most ardent to go to America, and, like La Fayette 
 to distinguish themselves in the cause of liberty in the 
 new world, struggling to defend itself against the mighty 
 efforts of one of the most powerful nations on the globe. 
 The American war was the favourite object of ambition, 
 and the desire to engage in it, and serve under General 
 Washington, was so ardent and extensive, as to occasion 
 the same exertion and intrigue as usually constitute the 
 means of obtaining the most desirable situations in the 
 gift of the government. Thousands of applications 
 were, from necessity, rejected. The influence and as 
 sistance of La Fayette was sought on all hands; he was 
 surrounded with applicants, and beset with solicitations 
 and entreaties; some wished for one birth and some an 
 other; some as aids-de-camp, others as secretaries, &c. 
 
 Doctor Franklin, the American minister, was ex 
 tremely perplexed from the numerous applications mad* 
 to him, and in no small degree embarrassed how to act 
 in a concern of so much delicacy. 
 
 After a short tour to Auvergne, for the purpose of vis 
 iting his family and friends, and arranging his private 
 affairs, he returned to Versailles, then the regular resi 
 dence of the king and royal family, to ask permission of 
 his sovereign to revisit America. Louis, on giving his 
 consent, informed him that he could not better serve his 
 king, than by serving in the American war. He soon 
 
MARQUIS E LA PAYETTE. 489 
 
 embarked at Havre in a goverment frigate, fitted out 
 for the purpose, to give him a more safe and honourable 
 passage. A great number of officers went out with him, 
 candidates for honourable fame, and he carried a lage 
 quantity of arms, ammunition and supplies of every 
 kind. 
 
 The resolution of congress before recited, being 
 communicated to Franklin, he took the necessary meas 
 ures for carrying into effect the wishes of congress, 
 before Fayette left France. On presenting tire sword, 
 Franklin addressed to Fayette the following letter, writ 
 ten in his usually clear and forcible style: 
 
 Passy, 24^/i August, 1779. 
 
 "SiR The congress, sensible of your merit towards the United States, 
 but unable adequately to reward it, determined to present you with a 
 sword, as a small mark of their grateful acknowledgment. They directed 
 it to be ornamented with suitable devices. Some of the principal actions 
 of the war, in which you distinguished yourself by your bravery and con 
 duct, are, therefore, represented upon it. These, with a few emblematic 
 figures, all admirably well executed, make its principal value. By the 
 help of the exquisite artists France affords, I find it easy to express every 
 thing but the sense we have of your worth, and our obligations to you. 
 For this, figures, and even words, are found insufficient. 
 
 "I therefore only add, that, with the most perfect esteem and respect, I 
 have the honour to be your obedient servant, 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN." 
 
 " P. S. My grandson goes to Havre with the sword, and will have the 
 honour of presenting it to you." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 He arrives at Boston his reception He repairs to the head quarters of the army, and 
 to congress with the official intelligence of the expected succours from France The 
 French fleet and troops arrive their landing superintended by La Fayette His let 
 ter to Samuel Adams He commands an expedition to the south to oppose Arnold 
 He saves Richmond He forms a junction with Wayne Saves the Military stores at 
 Albermarl* Cornwallis retreats and is followed by La Fayette^Engagement near 
 "Williamsburgeh. 
 
 LA FAYETTE arrived at Boston on the 26th of April, 
 1779, and landed amidst the crowd which lined the har 
 bour, and was conducted with great parade, the roar of 
 cannon, the ringing of bells, and the display of fireworks, 
 to the suite of rooms which had been prepared for him. 
 by the local authorities. The return of this disinter 
 ested patriot, and early and faithful friend of America, 
 
490 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 
 
 occasioned the warmest enthusiasm, and unbounded joy. 
 In this cradle of the revolution, he was hailed as the 
 patriot, hero, and friend and benefactor of America. 
 There was no place in the union, where the inhabitants 
 were more heartily engaged in the war than Boston, or 
 had suffered more from the arrogance of power, and the 
 ravages of lawless warfare; and their exasperated 
 feelings towards their oppressors, made them more en 
 thusiastic in their devotion to the young hero and patri 
 ot, who had acted so distinguished a part in the main 
 tenance of the independence and liberty of the country. 
 Illuminations, fire-works, and public entertainments, 
 were among the visible testimonials of gratitude and 
 joy ; they were not like the empty pageants of royal fes 
 tivals or coronations, but were the spontaneous effusions 
 of free and honest hearts offered as greatful homage, to 
 one who had rendered such important services to their 
 country. The honours shown to La Fayette, were not 
 confined to the Bostonians; the citizens of all the neigh 
 bouring towns, and surrounding country, collected on 
 the joyous occasion, to participate in the demonstra 
 tions of gratitude and respect. 
 
 At this period, it could scarcely have been believed, 
 that the man who was thus honoured as the nation s 
 friend and benefactor, after the lapse of forty-four 
 years, would by the same community, be welcomed as 
 the " Nation s Guest," with the exhibition of grateful 
 and joyous feelings, if possible, more heart-felt and 
 profound. 
 
 On the llth of May, he communicated confidentially 
 to Washington, the agreeable intelligence of the expec 
 ted succours from France. 
 
 But these scenes of rejoicing aod respect did not long 
 detain the American general; ardent to be actually en 
 gaged in the service of his adopted country, he soon 
 proceeded to the head-quarters of the armj at Morris- 
 town, and from thence to the seat of government, to 
 lay before congress the official information that the 
 French government was preparing to send a respectable 
 naval and land force to America, to assist in the prose 
 cution of the war. Who can describe the interview 
 
MARQUIS t)E LA FAYETTE. 491 
 
 between La Fayette and Washington; kindred spirits 
 and co-patriots; although born in different hemispheres 
 engaged in the same cause of liberty and humanity, 
 one at the head of America, the other bringing into the 
 same contest the auxiliary power of France, both hav 
 ing staked their fortunes and their lives on the issue of 
 the great cause in which they were engaged. Their 
 first interview after a separation of some time, under 
 circumstances so auspicious to that cause, produced 
 mutual feelings of joy and affection, too deep and glow 
 ing, to be described. The subjoined letters to congress, 
 and the resolution of that body, afford some evidence of 
 the estimation in which he was held at this time. 
 
 "Head-Quarters, Morristown, May 13, 178U. 
 "The Marquis LA FAYETTE does me the honour to take charge of this 
 note. 1 am persuaded Congress will participate in the joy I feel at the ro 
 turn of a gentleman who has so signally distinguished himself in the ser 
 vice of this country; who has given so many and so decided proofs of his 
 attachment to its interests; and who ought to be dear to it by every motive. 
 The warm friendship I have for him, conspires with considerations of pub 
 lic utility to afford me a double satisfaction in his return. During the 
 time he has been in France he has uniformly manifested* the same zeal in 
 our affaire, which animated his conduct while he was among us; and has 
 been upon all occasions, an essential friend to America. He merits, and I 
 doubt not congress will give him every mark of consideration and regard 
 in their power. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 To kis Excellency the President of Congress." 
 
 "Philadelphia, May, 16, 1780. 
 
 "After so many favours, which, on every occasion and particularly at 
 my obtaining leave of absence, congress were pleased most graciously to 
 bestow on me, I dare presume myself entitled to impart to them the private 
 feelings, which I now so happily experience. 
 
 In an early epoch in our noble contest, I gloried in the name of an 
 American soldier; and heartily enjoyed the honour I have of serving the 
 United States; rny satisfaction is, at this long wished-for moment entirely 
 complete, when putting an end to my furlough, I have been able again to 
 join my colours, under which I hope for opportunities of indulging the 
 ardent zeal, the unbounded gratitude, the warm, and I might say, the pat 
 riotic love, by which I am for ever bound to America. 
 
 I beg you, sir, to present congress with anew assurance of my profound 
 respect and my grateful and aflectionate sentiments. 
 
 I havt- the honour to be, &.c. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 
 03 
 
492 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 In congress May 16, 1780. "Resolved, That congress 
 consider the return of the Marquis LA FAYETTE to Amer 
 ica to resume his command in the army, as a fresh proof 
 of the distinguished zeal and deserving attachment which 
 have justly recommended him to the public confidence 
 and applause ; and that they receive, with pleasure a ten 
 der of further services of so gallant and meritorious an 
 officer." 
 
 The military operations had been of little moment 
 during the absence of LaFayette; but the events in Eu 
 rope had the most important influence on the American 
 cause. Not only France and Spain had acknowledged 
 the independence of the States, but both of these powers 
 had united in a declaration of war against Great Brit 
 ain. But as there are few advantages without some 
 accompanying drawback, these events in Europe whilst 
 they were calculated to be highly beneficial to the cause 
 of America, and diffused a spirit of joy through the 
 union, occasioned too great expectations, which opera 
 ted unfavourably, not only on the people but on congress. 
 Many thought the war with France and Spain would 
 so occupy the attention and means of Great Britain, 
 that she would be obliged to abandon her project of 
 coercing her revolted colonies into submission. Wash 
 ington laboured hard to convince congress ot the folly 
 of this opinion; that the naval superiority of Britain 
 over France and Spain both, would render the war with 
 them of less consequence than was supposed; and that 
 this event, instead of occasioning Britain to relax, would 
 induce her to redouble her exertions, and call forth all 
 her energies in the prosecution of the war with Ameri 
 ca. It was the dictate of policy as well as safety, to 
 prepare for carrying on hostilities on a broader scale 
 than had yet been done. 
 
 On the 13th of July, Washington received intelligence 
 from New-York, that a large French squadron had been 
 seen off the Capes of Virginia, which was soon followed 
 by a letter from Count de Rochambeau and Chevalier 
 de Tiernay, acquainting him with their arrival. And 
 what rendered this intelligence more important and 
 agreeable r Count dc Rochambeau informed Washington, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 493- 
 
 that he had the most positive orders to place himself 
 entirely under the direction of the American congress. 
 La Fayette was requested by the American commander, 
 to superintend the reception of his countrymen; and at 
 the same time had confidential instructions to propose 
 to the new allies, a combined plan of operations against 
 New York, then in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 The first division of the French fleet arrived at New 
 port, and consisted of two ships of eighty guns, one of 
 seventy-four, four of sixty-four, two frigates of forty, 
 several smaller vessels, and thirty-two transports, under 
 the command of Rear Admiral de Tiernay. There 
 were four regiments of troops on board, besides the Duke 
 de Lauzun s legion, composed of volunteer noblemen, 
 and a battalion of artillery, with a complete train of 
 bombarding and field pieces, all under the command of 
 Lieutenant General Rochambeau. This was the first 
 division of the French squadron, and the second was in 
 readiness at Brest, waiting for transports to convey the 
 troops. 
 
 The two commanders were eqnally sensible of the 
 necessity of preserving entire harmony between the 
 American and French troops. Washington to produce 
 unanimity of feeling, as well as concert of action, di 
 rected his soldiers to wear with the continental cockade 
 a white ribbon, that being the colour of the French 
 cockade. The services of La Fayette in maintaining 
 a good understanding between the two armies, were of 
 the greatest importance. Being a French subject, and 
 an American general, he was regarded as belonging 
 equally to both nations, and all delicate orders and 
 commissions were intrusted to him to execute; which 
 was always done with great circumspection and fidelity. 
 By the express direction of Washington, he informed 
 the French general of the low condition of the Ameri 
 can army. 
 
 From various causes and unavoidable difficulties, the 
 contemplated attack on New York was abandoned, and 
 the year 80 passed away without any military opera 
 tions of any importance. 
 
494 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTfc. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of Fayette, he was appointed 
 to the command of the Jight infantry and dragoons, being 
 the most advantageous situation in the power of Wash 
 ington to give him; but he performed no active or impor 
 tant military service during that year; indeed the low 
 condition of the American army, the depreciation of the 
 continental currency, the prostration of public credit, 
 and the want of spirit and activity among the people, 
 not only formed insuperable obstacles to any important 
 military operations, but were calculated to produce the 
 most melancholy reflections in the mind of every true 
 patriot. No one perhaps was more deeply affected with 
 this depressed and gloomy aspect of affairs, than La 
 Fayette. The state of the cause here, but little ac 
 corded with the expectations which he had contributed 
 to raise in France; and he had reason to fear that when 
 his countrymen arrived as allies to the Americans, they 
 might be so disappointed, that they would feel but little 
 ardour to assist those, who appeared to be doing so lit 
 tle to assist themselves. He may also have apprehend 
 ed, that from this depressed state of the cause, his own 
 honour might be impeached, and he be subjected to the 
 imputation of having deceived his sovereign and his 
 countrymen, as to the real condition of America. 
 
 It was under the influence of these alarming circum 
 stances, that, soon after his arrival at Morristown, the 
 head quarters of the army, he wrote the following letter 
 to Samuel Adams: 
 
 Morristown, May 30, 1730. 
 
 Dear <S ir, Had I known that I would have the pleasure of meeting 
 you at Boston, and holding confidential conversation with you on public 
 nnd private matters, I should have anticipated the uneasiness 1 wts put 
 under by the obligation of secrecy, or previously obtained the leave of 
 breaking that so strict law in your favour. Now, my dear sir, that con 
 gress have set my tongue at liberty, at least for such men as Mr. Samuel 
 Adams, I will, in referring you to a public letter from the committee of 
 Congress, indulge my private feelings in imparting to you some confiden 
 tial ideas of mine on our present situation. 
 
 As momentary visits did not entirely fulfil the purpose of freeing Amer 
 ica, France thought they would render themselves more useful, if a naval 
 and land force were sent for co-operating with our troops, and by a longer 
 stay on the coast of the continent, would give to the States, a fair oppor 
 tunity of employing all their resources. The expectations arc very san- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 495 
 
 guine at Versailles, and ought to he more so, when that letter shall be 
 received, by which you know Congress engaged to furnish on their part, 
 five and twenty thousand Continental troops, that are to take thejield by 
 the beginning of the spring. 
 
 On the other hand, my dear sir, all Europe have their eyes upon us: 
 They know nothing of us, but by our own reports, and our first exer 
 tions, which have heightened their esteem, and by the accounts of the 
 enemy, or those of some dissatisfied persons, which were calculated to 
 give them a quite different opinion : so that, to fix their own minds, all 
 the nations are now looking at us; and the consequence of America, in 
 the eyes of the world, as well as its liberty and happiness, must depend 
 upon the ensuing campaign. 
 
 The succour sent by France, I thought to be very important when at 
 Versailles: now that I am on the spot, I know it was necessary; and if 
 proper measures are taken, I shall more heartily than ever enjoy the hap 
 piness I had of being somewhat concerned in the operation. But if 
 things stood as they now do, I confess that whether as an American 
 soldier, whether as a private man that said a great deal, and knows Con 
 gress liave ordered much more to be said on the future exertions of 
 America, who took a particular delight in praising the patriotic spirit 
 of the United States, I would feel most unhappy and distressed, were I 
 to tell the people that are corning over full of ardour and sanguine hopes, 
 that we have no army to co-operate with them, no provisions to feed 
 the few soldiers that are left, &c. But I hope, my dear sir, it will not 
 be the ease ; and more particularly depending upon the exertions of your 
 state, / know Mr. Samuel Adam s influence and popularity will be, as 
 heretofore, employed in the salvation and glory of America. 
 
 If proper measures are taken for provisions, if the states do immediate 
 ly fill up the continental battalions by good drafts, which is by far the 
 best way; if all the propositions of the committee are speedily complied 
 with, I have no doubt, but that the present campaign will be a glorious, 
 decisive one r and that we may hope for every thing that is good: if, on 
 the contrary, time be lost, consider what unhappy and dishonourable 
 consequences would ensue from our inability to a co-operation. 
 
 Your state began the noble contest, it may be gloriously ended by your 
 state s exertions, and the example they will once more set to the whole 
 continent. The reception I met with at Boston, binds me to it by the 
 strongest ties of a grateful affection. The joy of my heart will be to 
 find myself concerned in an expedition, that may afford peculiar advan 
 tages to them ; and 1 earnestly hope it will be the case, in the course of 
 this (if proper measures are taken) glorious campaign. 
 
 I flatter myself you will be yet in Boston, and upon this expectation, I 
 very much depend for the success of the combined expeditions. Such 
 a crisis is worth your being wholly engaged in it, as it will be glorious, 
 important, and, I may say it now, because necessary for the support of 
 the great cause in which you acted so early and decisive a part. What 
 you mentioned confidentially to me at Boston,! have duly noticed, and 
 shall ever remember with the attention of a friend. For fulfilling the 
 same purpose, I wish wo may be under particular obligations to you OP 
 this occasion. 
 
MAR^UfS DE LA PAYETTE. 
 
 Give me leave my dear sir, to suggest to you an idea which I have lately 
 thought of; all the continental officers labour under the most shameful 
 want of clothing. When I say shameful, it is not to them, who have no 
 moneyto buy no cloth to be bought. You can conceive what may be 
 theirs and our feelings, when they will be with the French general and 
 other officers; and from a general idea of mankind and human honour it 
 >s easily seen how much we should exert ourselves to put the officers of 
 the army in a more decent situation. 
 
 I beg, my dear sir, you will present my respects to your family, and 
 believe me most affectionately, 
 
 Yours, LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The following is the reply: 
 
 Boston, June, 1780. 
 My Dtar Marquis, 
 
 Yesterday your very obliging letter of the 30th May was brought 
 to me by Mons. Guinard. 
 
 The succour coming from France will be so seasonable and impor- 
 tant, that if America is not wanting to herself, she will have it in her pow 
 er, by the blessing of heaven, to gratify the utmost of her wishes. His 
 most Christian Majesty s expectations from us must needs be great; and 
 gratitude to so generous an ally, as well as a due attention to our own safe 
 ty, interest and honour, lay us under the strongest obligations to be in rea 
 diness to co-operate with the greatest advantage. I have long been fully 
 sensible of your most cordial and zealous attachment to our great cause; 
 and to your personal representation to his Majesty, in addition to the benev 
 olence of his royal heart I will take the liberty to attribute his design to 
 afford us such aid and for so long a time as may put it in our power to 
 employ all our resources against the enemy. 
 
 It fortunately happened that the General Assembly of this state was 
 sitting when the letter and enclosures from the committee of Congress 
 came to the President of the Council. They were immediately laid 
 before the Assembly, and I have the pleasure to assure you that the filling 
 our battalions by an immediate draft, furnishing the army with provisions, 
 and every other measure for the fulfilling of the just expectations of your 
 sovereign and of Congress, on this most important occasion are the ob 
 jects of their closest attention. I had for several months past been 
 flattering myself with the prospect of this aid. It strongly impressed 
 my mind from one circumstance which took place when you was at Phil 
 adelphia the last year. But far from certainty, I could only express to 
 some confidential friends here, a distant hope, though as I conceived not 
 without some good effect : at least it seemed to enliven our spirits and an 
 imate us for so great a crisis. 
 
 If it were possible for one to be forgetful of our all important cause 
 for a moment, my particular friendship/or you would be a prevailing in 
 ducement with me, to make my utmost feeble exertions to prevent your 
 disappointment after the great pains you have taken to serve us. I have 
 endeavoured, and shall continue those endeavours while I stay here, to 
 brighten the dark side of the picture which your imagination has painted 
 in one part of your letter before me God forbid that we should be obli- 
 
5IARQ,UIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ged to tell our friends when they arrive, that we have not a sufficient army 
 to co-operate with them, nor provision to feed the few soldiers that are 
 left. 1 think I may venture to predict that this state will comply with the 
 requisition upon her to give the utmost respectability to our army on so 
 promising an occasion. I was in the Council Chamber when I received 
 your letter, and took the liberty to read some parts of it to the members 
 present. I will communicate other parts of it to some leading members of 
 the House of Representatives, as prudence may dictate, particularly what 
 you mention of the officers want of clothing. 
 
 I thank you, my dear sir, for the friendly remembrance you had of the 
 hint I gave you when you was here. Be pleased to pay my most respectful 
 compliments to the Commander in Chief, his family, &c. and be assured 
 of the warm affection of your obliged friend and very humble servant. 
 
 SAMUEL ADAMS. 
 
 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The Legislature of Massachusetts soon after adopted 
 a resolution for raising four thousand men, to reinforce 
 the continental army, affording a bounty to those who 
 might enlist, and subjecting those who might be drafted 
 and should refuse to march, to a fine; the select-men of 
 the towns were required to furnish clothing and travel 
 ling expenses. These patriotic measures were occa 
 sioned by the pressing letter of La Fayette, together 
 with their own sense of the alarming necessity of the 
 country. 
 
 General Arnold, the arch traitor, having distinguished 
 himself by his predatory incursion in Connecticut, mark 
 ed with plunder, robbery, murder, and every species of 
 desolation, in the latter part of the year 80, was sent 
 on a similar depredatory expedition to Virginia. After 
 committing devestations at Richmond, Smithfield, and 
 elsewhere, worthy of his character, he established him 
 self at Portsmouth. General La Fayette, in Decem 
 ber, was sent at the head of an expedition, to oppose his 
 desolating progress. The meditated attack on Ports 
 mouth, in which the co-operation of the French squad 
 ron was relied upon, was abandoned in consequence of 
 the result of a naval action, between the French squad 
 ron and that of the enemy under Admiral Arburthnot. La 
 Fayette returned to the head of the Elk, where he receiv 
 ed the orders of Washington, to repair to Virginia, to op 
 pose General Phillips, who embarked at Portsmouth, with 
 3,000 troops, to attack Richmond. La Fayette was 
 
498 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 greatly embarrassed and distressed; his army was not 
 only greatly inferior to the enemy, but was destitute of 
 every thing; coats, shoes, and but poorly supplied with 
 provision. The soldiers were all bare-foot, there was 
 not one pair of shoes in the army; and he had no funds 
 or means of supplying these pressing wants of his troops. 
 But such was the affection of the soldiers for their gen 
 eral, that they bore all their severe sufferings without a 
 murmur. He procured a loan of two thousand guineas 
 on his private credit in Baltimore, and supplied the most 
 urgent wants of his troops; and immediately proceeded, 
 with the greatest despatch, for Richmond, which he be 
 lieved the first object of the enemy s incursion, and arri 
 ved the day before the British made their appearance, 
 and thus saved the capital of Virginia, then the general 
 deposit of the military supplies of the state. The next 
 morning General Phillips entered Manchester, directly 
 oppisite Richmond ; but the Marquis had taken so strong 
 a position, he did not deem it advisable to hazard an at 
 tack, but soon moved off. 
 
 At this period Virginia was invaded by Cornwallis, 
 Phillips, and Arnold, whose united forces were immense 
 ly superior not only to those under the actual command 
 of La Fayette, but to any force he could reasonably ex 
 pect to avail himself of. From appearances, Virginia 
 would be speedily overrun, and entirely conquered: an 
 event which would of been attended with the most se 
 rious consequences: the conquest of Virginia would 
 have terminated all resistance in the southeren states. 
 Fully sensible of this, La Fayette felt the difficulty 
 and responsibility of his situation; he had but 1,000 
 continentals, 2,0(JO militia and 60 dragoons. General 
 Phillips died soon after he left Richmond, and his de 
 tachment being united with the troops of Cornwallis. 
 his lordship proceeded towards Petersburg. From the 
 reinforcements he had received, his force amounted to 
 8,000 men; he felt the greatest assurance of success, 
 and did not disguise his contempt for his adversary. In 
 some of his letters he observed "The boy cannot possi 
 bly escape we." La Fayette, with the force he had, 
 was sensible he could do no more than watch the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 499 
 
 movements of the enemy: he moved from Richmond 
 to Chichahominy, where he hoped to form a junction 
 with General Wayne, who had been ordered from the 
 north to reinforce the army in Virginia. Cornwallis 
 strained every nerve to prevent this junction, and to 
 bring La Fayette to action before it could be effected, 
 pursued him with great rapidity. But he found "the 
 boy," a match for himself; was foiled in all his attempts, 
 Fayette having succeeded in uniting his forces with 
 those of General Wayne, at Racoon Ford, without any 
 loss. Cornwallis by a hasty movement, threw himself 
 between the American army and the public magazines, 
 with the view to cut off the communications between 
 them; but Fayette by opening an old road which was 
 disused, and forced marches, passed the British army, 
 and to the astonishment of Cornwallis, secured a strong 
 position between his troops and the American maga 
 zines, at Albemarle court-house. Having failed in all 
 his plans, the British Genera-] returned to Richmond, and 
 from thence to .Williamsburg, whither he was followed 
 by the Marquis. Here he received orders for a part of 
 his forces to return to New York, Henry Clinton being 
 apprehensive of an attack from the combined armies of 
 America and France. Cornwallis attempted to deceive 
 Fayette by a stratagem, and draw him into an engage 
 ment; he knew the American general would attack his 
 rearguard, when his main army was passing the ford to 
 the Island of Jamestown: he accordingly made such 
 dispositions as were calculated to lead General La Fay 
 ette to suppose that the principal part of his army had 
 crossed, when he had detained them, expecting that 
 from this deception, Fayette would attack him. The 
 stratagem, however, did not deceive La Fayette, but 
 General Wayne, who had been detached to reconnoitre 
 the enemy s position, supposing that the rear guard of 
 the enemy only remained, from slight skirmishing, soon 
 found hinid&lf engaged with the whole. British line. La 
 Fayette proceeded himself to reconnoitre the enemy, 
 and discovering the stratagem, he immediately ordered 
 Wayne to retreat, and the British general suspecting an 
 ambuscade, did not pursue. Thus by the circumspec- 
 
 P3 
 
r>00 MARQUIS DE LA 
 
 lion and caution of La Fayette, this artful scheme ot 
 Cornwallis was defeated, and the troops under General 
 Wayne rescued from the most imminent danger. 
 
 The gallantry of Wayne, and his detachment, was 
 acknowledged by La Fayette in the general orders 
 issued the 8th of July. "The general is happy to ac 
 knowledge the spirit of the detachment under General 
 Wayne, in their engagement with the whole of the 
 British army, of which he was an eye witness. He 
 requests General Wayne, and the officers and men un 
 der his command, to accept his best thanks The brave 
 ry and destructive fire of the riflemen rendered essen 
 tial service, and the fire of the light-infantry checked 
 the enemy s progress round our right flank. The gen 
 eral was much pleased with the conduct of Captain 
 Savage, of the artillery, and is satisfied that nothing 
 but the loss of horses occasioned that of the two field 
 pieces. The zeal of Col. Mercer s corps, is fully ex 
 pressed in the number of horses he had killed. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Cornwallis encamps at York-town, and is followed by La Layette to WiUiamsburgh- 
 is reinforced by the allied troops disembarked from the French fleet Siege of York- 
 town Activity of La Fayette he storms a redoubt capitulation of Cornwallis, who 
 proposes to surrender his sword to La Fayette He repairs to Philadelphia, awl signi 
 fies to Congress bis desir* of returning to France resolution of Congress and his re 
 ply he embarks Great respect glioun him in France makes a tour in Germany 
 visits Frederick the Great and is present at his Grand Review After his return, ex- 
 rrts himself to have France send further succours to the United States proceeds to 
 Cadiz to accompany Count D Estaing, with a large fleet, to America, which stopped 
 by peace Visits the United States in 1784 respect shown him in various places visits 
 Mount Vernon honour ghoxvn him by Congress, on his taking leave of the country. 
 
 A COMBINED attack on New York had been conceived 
 in the spring, immediately after the arrival of the French, 
 and matured at Hartford and Wethersfield, in Connec 
 ticut; General Washington, the Count de Rochambean, 
 La Fayette, and a great number of American officers 
 having spent some time in Connecticut on this business. 
 Fortunately this object was given up, and the combined 
 armies agreed to direct their united forces against the 
 British army in Virginia. This was so managed as to 
 deceive Sir Henry Clinton with appearances of an at 
 tack on New York, and thus prevent him from reinforcing 
 Cornwallis. On the 30th of August, at Chester, on their 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 501 
 
 march to the south, Washington and Rochambeau re 
 ceived the agreeable intelligence of the arrival of Ad 
 miral De Grasse in the Chesapeake, with a squadron of 
 twenty-four ships of the line. Immediately 3,000 
 French troops were disembarked, commanded by the 
 Marquis de St. Simon, and soon formed a junction with 
 the American army under La Fayette. Cornwallis at 
 this time was encamped at Yorktown, where he had 
 collected all his forces, and he had been followed to Wil- 
 liamsburg by La Fayette, who, although unable to en 
 gage the eneoiy, pursued him wherever he went, and 
 checked his designs. The arrival of the French squad 
 ron, and the large reinforcement he received, filled the 
 heart of La Fayette with joy, and inspired him with 
 hopes of a glorious campaign. 
 
 On the arrival of Washington and Count de Ro 
 chambeau, they went on board Count de Grasse s flag 
 ship, to determine on future operations, which was 
 followed by the movement of the combined army upon 
 York and Gloucester, and at the same time the fleet 
 moved up to the mouth of James River, having just 
 been reinforced by eight ships of the line, under Count 
 de Barras, from Rhode-Island. 
 
 The seige of Yorktown was thus commenced, which 
 reflected such lustre on the gallantry and spirit of the 
 combined armies, and terminated the most glorious rev 
 olution in the history of the human race. 
 
 Having formed his first parallel, Washington com 
 menced the second, with great activity, on the llth of 
 September. Alarmed at the despatch of the besiegers, 
 Cornwallis opened all his batteries to stop their pro 
 gress. His fire from two redoubts was particularly 
 annoying, and Washington determined to carry them. 
 To excite emulation, ajad avoid all cause of jealousy, 
 the attack of one was committed to the French, under 
 Baron de Viominel, and the other to a detachment of 
 Americans, under La Fayette, who led them to the as 
 sault in person. This attack was made with such vigour 
 and spirit that the assailants, without firing a gun, forced 
 their way over the abattis and palisades, into the re- 
 doubt>and made the whole party, consisting of sixty 
 
502 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 men, under Major Campbell, prisoners, with the loss of 
 only nine men killed and thirty-two wounded. The de 
 tachment had been reminded of the massacre of the 
 garrison at fort Grisvvold, at New-London ; but La Fay- 
 ette, Hamilton and Laurens possesed too much humanity 
 to imitate deeds of nithlessness and barbarity, or to 
 take the lives of men who begged for quarters, even 
 by way of retaliation. The assault on the other redoubt 
 was equally successful, athough not without consider 
 able loss on the part of the French, the enemy being 
 much more numerous, and their defence consequently 
 more persevering and obstinate. The French lost 100 
 killed and wounded; about half of the enemy escaped, 
 and the other fell into, the hands of the assailants. 
 The coolness and gallantry displayed by both parties, 
 excited the applause of the commander in chief; he 
 expressed to La Fayette and De Viominel the high 
 sense he had of their intrepid and able conduct, and 
 desired them to couvey his acknowledgments to their 
 respective detatchments. In his orders he observes, 
 "The general reflects, with the highest degree of plea 
 sure, on the confidence which the troops of the two na 
 tions must have in each other. Assured of mutual 
 support, he is convinced there is no danger which they 
 will not cheerfully encounter, no difficulty which they 
 will not bravely overcome." 
 
 As the last effort, Cornwallis having attempted to es 
 cape by passing in the night his whole army over on 
 to Gloucester Point, and being frustrated by a storm, 
 finding that even the elements seemed to have conspired 
 against him, the proud spirit of his lordship was ob 
 liged to yield to a destiny which he could no longer con 
 trol. 
 
 On the 19th of October, 81, just four years from the 
 convention of Saratoga, a second British army of more 
 than seven thousand men, was surrendered to the al 
 lied forces of France and America. Such was the 
 fate of an army, whose career had long been success 
 ful, proud and triumphant; which had spread terror 
 and devestation over a vast extent of country; that 
 at one period had nearly conquered all the southern 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 503 
 
 states, and whose path was traced by rain, desolation 
 and blood. 
 
 In this memorable siege, La Fayette was particularly 
 active and serviceable, and was one of the officers who 
 were honourably noticed by the commander in chief, as 
 having distinguished themselves by their intrepid and 
 heroic conduct. In the universal joy which this great 
 event-occasioned, throughout the United States, no one, 
 perhaps, rejoiced more sincerely than this youthful pat 
 riot and hero, this early and steadfast friend of America. 
 He received the thanks, not only of Washington, but of 
 Congress, for his gallant and heroic conduct ; and the 
 State of Virginia afterward presented him with a bust, 
 for his services in defence of that state, against the in 
 cursions and ravages of a lawless enemy. His merit 
 was also acknowledged by the enemy, as Lord Cornwal- 
 lis was particularly desirous of treating with La Fay 
 ette alone, and surrendering his sword into his hands; 
 but the modesty of the youthful hero declined an honour 
 which he considered belonged to another. 
 
 In November the Marquis repaired to Philadelphia, 
 where be was received with the warmest manifestations 
 of gratitude and eclat. He soon signified to the Con 
 gress his desire of returning again to France; on which 
 occasion, the resolution adopted by that body, is too 
 honourable a testimony of his merits and of the unlim 
 ited confidence reposed in him by Congress, to be omit 
 ted in a memoir of his life. 
 
 In Congress, November, 1781. 
 
 Resolved, That Major-General La Fayette have permission to go to 
 France, and to return at such time as may be most agreeable to himself 
 that he be informed, that, on a view of his conduct throughout the past 
 campaign, and particularly during the period in which he had the chief 
 command in Virginia, the many new proofs which present themselves of 
 his zealous attachment to the cause he has espoused, and of his judgment, 
 vigilance, gallantry, and address in its defence, h^ve greatly added to the 
 high opinion entertained by congress of his merits and military talents 
 that he make known to the officers and troops whom lie commanded during 
 that period, that the brave and enterprising services, with which they se 
 conded his zeal and efforts, and which enabled him to defeat the attempts 
 of an enemy, far superior in numbers, have been beheld by Congress with 
 particular satisfaction and approbation. That the secretary of foreign 
 affairs acquaint the Ministers Plenipotentiaries of the United States, that 
 
,104 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 it is the desire of Congress that iliey confer with the Marquis La FayettQf 
 and avail of his information, relative to the situation of public affairs in 
 the United States. That the secretary for foreign affairs, further acquaint 
 the Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Versailles, that he will con 
 form to the intention of Congress, hy consulting with, and employing the 
 assistance of the Marquis La Fayette, in accelerating the supplies which 
 may be afforded by his most Christian Majesty for the United States. That 
 the superintendent of finance, the secretary for foreign affairs and the board 
 of war, make such communications to the Marquis, touching the affairs of 
 their respective departments, as will best enable him to fulfil the purpose 
 of the preceding resolutions. That the superintendent of finance, lake 
 order for discharging the engagements entered into by the Marquis La 
 Fayette, with the merchants of Baltimore, when he borrowed money of 
 them on his own credit, to supply our troops with necessaries." 
 
 At the same time, Congress ordered that a conveyance 
 be provided for General La Fayette, in a public vessel, 
 whenever he should choose to embark; and voted to 
 send a letter by him to the King of France. 
 
 The following is the reply of the Marquis to the Pres 
 ident of Congress, who forwarded him the resolves: 
 
 "Sia I have been honoured with the resolutions which congress have 
 been pleased to pass in my favour. Testimonies of their esteem and 
 their confidence that are so very flattering to me, could not but excite 
 those exalted sentiments of gratitude which I am unable sufficiently to 
 express. My attachment to America, the sense of my obligations, and 
 the new favours conferred upon me are so many everlasting ties thai de~ 
 vote me to her. At all times, and in every part of the world, my heart 
 will be panting for opportunities to be employed in her service. With 
 unspeakable pleasure I shall transmit the resolve of Congress to the brave 
 3uid virtuous troops, whom it has been my happiness to command. 
 J have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 
 The foregoing resolution of Congress he transmitted 
 to the troops, lately under his command ;in doing which 
 he remarks: "In the moment the Major General leaves 
 this place, he wishes once more to express his gratitude 
 to the brave corps of light-infantry, who, for nine months 
 past, have been the companions of his fortunes. He can 
 never forget, that, with them alone, of regular troops, he 
 had the good fortune to manoeuvre before an army, 
 which, after all its reductions, was still six times more 
 numerous than the regular force he had under com 
 mand." 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 It being evident that the American Revolutionary 
 struggle was drawing on to a close, in December, 81, 
 he embarked the second time for France, leaving the 
 grateful homage of one country to receive the admira 
 tion and applause of another. 
 
 On his arrival in France, he was received with that 
 enthusiastic; manifestation of respect and applause, which 
 his achievements and fame were calculated to inspire, 
 His chivalrous heroism, and ardent attachment to liber 
 ty, were not more conspicuous than his modesty, a trait 
 for which his countrymen are not very distinguished; 
 yet, nevertheless, in so young a man, it increased his 
 reputation even with Frenchmen. Having related to 
 the king a long account of the events and progress of 
 the American war, without having said one word about 
 himself, his majesty could not forbear to remark: "But 
 pray sir, where were you all this time?" 
 
 He remained six weeks in Paris, during which time, 
 having received continually the most distinguished hon 
 ours and attention from all classes, from the king to the 
 street-porter, from the inhabitants of "gorgeous palaces" 
 to the wretched inmate.s of garrets and cellars, he be 
 came surfeited with applause, and anxious to realize 
 the roore quiet and substantial enjoyments which he 
 could find only in the bosom of his family. 
 
 In the universal respect, shown to the youthful hero of 
 America, Madame La Fayette came in for a share. 
 At a large assembly, at the Duke Choiseul s, Voltaire 
 publicly complimented her on the patriotic virtues of her 
 husband. Louis was so satisfied with the conduct of 
 the Marquis in America, that he bestowed on him many 
 favours; and the queen was so delighted with him that 
 she presented him with her miniature. 
 
 His journey from Paris to his estates in Lorraine, with 
 his wife and son George, then three years of age, was 
 one continued triumph, notwithstanding his intention, 
 and the precautions he made use of, to have it entirely- 
 private. Every where bells were Fung, processions 
 formed, and crowds assembled around him, crying, "long 
 Jive La Fayette!" At the city of Orleans he was de 
 tained nearly a week, by the festivities prepared for him. 
 
MARQ.U1S DE LA FAYETTE* 
 
 In the year 82, he made a tour to Germany, and vis 
 ited many of the German princes, all of whom received 
 him with attention; hut his more particular object was 
 to see Frederick the Great, whose character had long 
 attracted general attention in Europe. He was present 
 at Pottsdam, during the grand review, when 50,000 men 
 were assembled under the immediate cornmand of the 
 king. During three days, various evolutions of battles, 
 sieges, and assaults, were gone through with, under the 
 eye and direction of the Great Frederick, mounted on 
 his white charger, with his little three-cornered cocked 
 hat, his thread-bare blue jacket, and his opera glass in 
 his hand. This was a grand and highly interesting ex 
 hibition; the "tented field," formed by their encamp 
 ment, resembled an immense city. Thesk reviews took 
 place every autumn, and attracted numerous strangers 
 and foreigners of distinction. It is on these occasions 
 that all promotions, rewards, punishments, and discipli 
 nary regulations, were published, by being three times 
 read at the head of each company. 
 
 Frederick was no sooner informed that La Fayette 
 was present, than hedesptched an aid-de-camp to invite 
 him to the palace of Sans Souci. In a long audience 
 which he had with Frederick, the latter, after compli 
 menting La Fayette, expressed his admiration of Wash 
 ington, and presenting his miniature, set in diamonds, to 
 La Fayette, he observed, "that since he must be separa 
 ted from the general, he hoped this little memento would 
 sometimes recall him to recollection/ 
 
 The respect manifested by Frederick, considering his 
 despotic principles and severe character, for Washington 
 and Layette, the two great champions of liberty, is 
 creditable to him, and could only have proceeded 
 from the admiration which true greatness always shows 
 to genius and distinguished talent, wherever they may 
 be found. 
 
 La Fayette, in his travels and observations of the af 
 fairs of Europe, did not, for a moment, lose sight of the 
 interests of America ; and early in the year 83, after his 
 return to France, from his tour, manifested great anxiety 
 to have the treaty of peace between Great Britain and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 507 
 
 America and France, difmitely ratified, the preliminaries 
 of which had been entered into the preceding year. He 
 apprehended that the Court of St. James did not intend 
 to ratify the treaty, and urged on the French government 
 the propriety of affording additional assistance to Amer 
 ica, as a means of inducing Britain to conclude the 
 treaty. Accordingly La Fayette was permitted to re 
 turn to America once more, and orders were given to 
 Count D Estaing to hold himself in readiness to proceed 
 from Cadiz, with his fleet and troops on board, to the 
 United States, as soon as La Fayette might join him. 
 But the treaty being ratified, the expedition was, of 
 course, abandoned. He went to Cadiz, where he found 
 forty-nine ships, and twenty thousand men ready to fol 
 low him, and which would have been in America early 
 in the spring, had not peace been concluded. He com 
 municated the first intelligence of this event to Congress, 
 by a letter dated Cadiz, February 5, 1783. 
 
 The great object of the war being obtained, the inde 
 pendence and freedom of the United States of America 
 acknowledged and established, those who had been the 
 compatriots and associates in arms in the United States 
 with La Fayette, in this great and glorious cause, were 
 very anxious of embracing him once more on that soil, 
 now no longer marked with the traces of oppression, 
 which had been the theatre of their united toils, suffer 
 ings, and triumphs. La Fayette was not less desirous 
 to revisit a country that he had found oppressed, and 
 struggling for its rights, and which he had contributed 
 to render independent, sovereign, and free. The press 
 ing invitation of Washington, and many other friends, 
 was accordingly accepted, and, having arranged his 
 affairs, in July, 84, he embarked from Havre for Ameri 
 ca the third time. 
 
 There are few, if any examples, in history, of an in 
 dividual who has assisted, by his services, his fortune 
 and his blood, to secure the independence, liberty and 
 peace of a foreign and distant people, revisiting the 
 same people, on their pressing solicitation, as the "guest 
 of the nation," to witness the fruits of his labours, the 
 blessings of peace and freedom, and receive the grati- 
 
JOB MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 tude and homage of millions, in the enjoyment of these 
 blessings. This distinguished honour and distinguished 
 felicity, La Fayette has twice enjoyed. 
 
 He arrived at New-York, after a passage of thirty- 
 four days, on the 4th of August, 1784. The knowledge 
 of his arrival was communicated with rapidity, and he 
 immediately was surrounded by the officers and citizens, 
 who welcomed his return, and offered to him their con 
 gratulations. The day following his arrival a public 
 entertainment was given him, at which all the officers 
 appeared in their "continentals," both uniforms and ac 
 coutrements, which served to produce a more fraternal 
 feeling among the co-patriots and fellow-officers of the 
 late arduous struggle, now so successfully and gloriously 
 terminated. 
 
 From New York he proceeded to Philadelphia, where 
 he was met by the officers of the army and a vast con 
 course of citizens, and escorted to the house of the gov 
 ernor. In the evening an universal illumination took 
 place? there was not a single house in the city but what 
 illuminated. On this present visit, also, this city hon 
 oured La Fayette with an illumination, more universal 
 and splendid than any thing of the kind which had been 
 witnessed any where else. The next day he was wait 
 ed on by Generals St. Clair, Wayne, and Irwine, as a 
 committee in behalf of the citizens; and the legislature 
 being in session, appointed a deputation, consisting of 
 one member from a county, who addressed him in their 
 own name and that of their constituents; they also in 
 corporated a county in the western section of the state, 
 by the name of La Fayette. 
 
 From Philadelphia he repaired to Baltimore, and from 
 thence hastily to Mount Vernon, to see and embrace his 
 beloved Washington, now no longer the head of the 
 American armies, and the master-spirit of the revolu 
 tion, but a private citizen, living in retirement on his 
 plantation. It would be in vain to attempt to describe 
 the interview between these two illustrious individuals. 
 Born in different hemispheres, and apparently to differ 
 ent fortunes and different ends, they have nevertheless 
 become united by the strong tics of affection, principle 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 509 
 
 and sympathy, and by their common toils and sufferings 
 i the same cause, and that cause so sacred in itself, so 
 dear to the hearts of both, and so gloriously successful, 
 guaranteeing the blessings of peace and liberty to a na 
 tion, and establishing the fame of all who had acted a 
 distinguished part in it, an interview between two such 
 individuals, under such circumstances, after an absence 
 of nearly two years, which had served to give maturity 
 to the fruits of their exertions, and increase their mutu 
 al affection, as it is without example, so it scarcely 
 belongs to this earth; it is rather like an interview be 
 tween superior beings, rejoicing at the happiness they 
 had conferred upon mortals. 
 
 La Fayette remained at Mount Yernon twelve days, 
 when he returned to Baltimore, and, after a short stay, 
 he went on to New York and proceeded eastward to 
 Boston, passing through the principal towns in the route, 
 and was every where received with the most hearty 
 welcome and the most lively demonstrations of grateful 
 hearts. On approaching Boston, he was met ar Water- 
 town by the whole body of the late army, and addressed 
 in their behalf by his personal friend, Gen. Knox. The 
 legislature being in session, a resolve was immediately 
 adopted, inviting him to meet the members of the two 
 houses in the senate-room, where he was addressed by 
 the governor in terms of respect and affection. He went 
 east as far as Maine,, and having visited the considera 
 ble towns, he returned to Boston, where he embarked for 
 the Chesapeake. He made a second visit to Mount 
 Vernon,and passed through the principal towns on the 
 way. On his return, Washington came with him to An 
 napolis, where he took an affectionate, and then thought, 
 as it proved to be, a final farewell of Washington arid 
 numerous friends, and received the last benedictions of 
 his illustrious friend and adopted parent. 
 
 Before leaving the United States, he deemed it proper 
 to take respectful leave of Congress, then in session at 
 Trenton, where he arrived on the 8th of December. 
 La Fayette having addressed, a note to congress, signi 
 fying his intention, a committee was appointed, consist 
 ing of one from a state, to give greater dignity to the 
 
510 MARQFIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 proceeding, to receive and take leave of the Marquis in 
 the name of Congress, and the nation, and to assure 
 him that congress continued to entertain the same high 
 sense of his zeal and services to promote the welfare of 
 the United States, both here and in Europe, which they 
 had frequently manifested on former occasions. The 
 committee received the guest of the nation in congress 
 hall, and communicated to him the resolve of that body, 
 to which the Marquis made the following dignified and 
 affectionate reply: 
 
 <While it pleases the Congress of the United States so kindly to re- 
 ceive me, I want words to express the feelings of a heart, which delights 
 in their present situation r and in the public marks of their esteem. 
 
 u Since I joined the standard of liberty, to this wished-for hour of my 
 personal congratulations, I have seen such glorious deeds performed and 
 viitues displayed, by the sons of America, that in the instant of my first 
 concern for them, I had anticipated but a part of the love and regard 
 which devote me to this rising empire. 
 
 "During our revolution,! obtained an unlimited, indulgent confidence, 
 which I am equally proud and happy to acknowledge; it dates with the 
 time, when an inexperienced youth, I could only claim my respected 
 friend s paternal adoption. It has been most benevolently continued 
 throughout every circumstance of the cabinet and the field ; and in person 
 al friendship I have often found a support against public difficulties. 
 While on this solemn occasion, I mention ray obligations to congress, the 
 states, and tlic people at large, permit me to remember my dear military 
 companions, to whose services their country is so much indebted. 
 
 "Having felt both for the timely aid of my country, and for the part 
 she, with a beloved king, acted in the cause of mankind, I enjoy an alli 
 ance so well rivetted by mutual affection, by interest and even local situa 
 tion. Recollection ensures it. Futurity does but enlarge the prospect; 
 and the private intercourse will every day increase, which independent and 
 advantageous trade cherishes in proportion as it is justly understood. 
 
 "In unbounded wishes to America, I am happy to observe the prevail 
 ing disposition of the people to strengthen the confederation, preserve 
 public faith, regulate trads; and in a proper guard over continental maga 
 zines and frontier posts, in a general system of militia, in foreseeing atten 
 tion to the navy, to ensure every kind of safety. May this immense tem 
 ple of freedom ever stand a lesson to oppressors, an example to the op 
 pressed, a sanctuary for the rights of mankind ! And may these happy 
 United Slates attain that complete splendour and prosperity, which will 
 illustrate the blessings of their government, and for ages to come, rejoice 
 the departed souls of its founders. 
 
 "However unwilling to trespass on your time, I must yet present you 
 with my grateful thanks for the late favours of congress; and never can 
 they oblige me so much, as when they put it in my power, in every part of 
 the world, and to the latest day of my life, to gratify the attachment which 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 511 
 
 %vill ever rank me among the most zealous and respectful servants of the 
 United States." 
 
 Congress at the same time also resolved, that the 
 president of their body, address a letter to the King of 
 France, expressive of the high sense which the United 
 States entertain of the talents and meritorious servi 
 ces of the Marquis de La Fayette, and recommending 
 him to the particular favour and patronage of his Ma 
 jesty. 
 
 La Fayette went from Trenton to New York, where 
 in a few days he embarked for France, in a frigate that 
 was waiting for him. On his departure he was honour 
 ed by the waving standards of the United States from 
 the forts, and by the discharge of thirteen cannon, an 
 nouncing the number of states which regretted his de 
 parture, and whose best wishes he carried with him. 
 During this visit many of the states passed acts con 
 ferring the right of citizenship on La Fayette, and his 
 male descendants for ever. 
 
 At the time, this separation between La Fayette and 
 America, must have been believed, both by himself and 
 his friends here, to be the last; and however lively an 
 interest he might be supposed to continue to feel for her 
 welfare, it could hardly have been expected that he 
 would again revisit a country which had been the thea 
 tre of his early achievements, of his brigthest glory; 
 which was still the dearest object of his attachments 
 and hopes, and which contained so many of his dearest 
 and most venerated friends. In leaving the shores of 
 the United States, under such circumstances, his feelings 
 must have been deeply affected; and likewise those of 
 the numerous friends he left behind. To most of the 
 latter, the parting was for ever on earth; but the life of 
 this illustrious man, has been spared, through all the 
 vicissitudes which he has since passed, that whilst he 
 was on the confines of the earth and about to leave it, 
 for another and better world, after the lapse of nearly 
 half a century, he should be permitted like a departed 
 spirit returning to the earth, to revisit this favoured land 
 of promise, and witness the countless blessings enjoyed 
 by a numerous and grateful people, flowing from inder 
 
512 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 pendence, peace, free institutions, and well-regulated 
 social order, the holy and imperishable fruits of the 
 blood and toils of the heroes and patriots of a glorious 
 revolution, of whom he is one of the chief, and almost 
 the only survivor. This is a felicity which no mortal 
 has ever before enjoyed ; it was reserved for La Fay- 
 ette, the first of patriots and philanthropists. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 After his arrival in France he engages in various philanthropic objects Virginia places 
 his bust in the capitol of that state, and one at Paris He again visits Germany 1 a 
 member of the Assembly of .Notables proposes various reforms Is elected a mem 
 ber ot the States-General proposes a bill of right? procures a decree for the ac 
 countability of ministers Fall of the Bastile Is appointed to command the National 
 Guards Exerts himself to complete the constitution ^aves the Royal family at Ver 
 sailles He commands the National Guards at the ceremony of Champ de Mars- 
 Swears to the constitution in the name of the nation Coalition against France He is 
 appointed to command one of the armies Military operations Is denounced by the 
 Jacobin faction He addresses a letter to the Assembly appears before their bar. 
 
 GENERAL LA FAYETTE, is one of the few individuals, 
 who during a long arid eventful life, abounding in vicis 
 situdes and trials, has maintained the most scrupulous 
 consistency of conduct and integrity of principle. The 
 happiness of his fellow-creatures seems to have been the 
 leading object of all his actions, and we always find 
 him engaged in acts of private beneficence or public 
 utility: he has always been on the side of truth, justice, 
 and liberty. Soon after his return to France he is found 
 taking a strong interest in the affairs of the Batavian 
 patriots, and uniting his influence and exertions with 
 those of the celebrated philosopher Malescherbes, in 
 the cause of the French protestants; while at the same 
 time, he joined a society whose object was, the gradual 
 emancipation of the blacks held in slavery, particularly 
 in the French colonies. In this last philanthropic and 
 benevolent scheme, he spent much time and money, and 
 it is believed that his exertious and those of his associ 
 ates would have done much towards meliorating the 
 condition of the unfortunate Africans, had they not been 
 arrested by the rapid developement of the first scenes in 
 the great drama of the French revolution. 
 
 In the year 86, Virginia, in consideration of his servi 
 ces rendered to that state, by an act of the assembly, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 013 
 
 directed the bust of La Fayette to be placed in the 
 capitol of the state; and at the same time authorized 
 Mr. Jefferson, then the American minister at Paris, 
 to cause the like statue to be placed in the metropolis 
 of France, with the consent of the municipal authority 
 of the city. In his letter to the municipality of Paris, 
 Mr. Jefferson says, "The Legislature of the state of 
 Virginia, in consideration of the services of Major Gen. 
 the Marquis de La Fayette, has resolved to place his 
 bust in their capitol. This intention of erecting a mon 
 ument to his virtues, and to the sentiments with which 
 he has inspired them, in the country to which they 
 are indebted for his birth, has induced a hope that the 
 city of Paris would consent to become the depository 
 of a second proof of their gratitude. Charged by the 
 state with the execution of this resolution, I have the 
 honour to solicit the Prevot des Marchands and munici 
 pality of Paris to accept the bust of this brave officer, 
 and give it a situation where it may continually a- 
 waken the admiration, and witness the respect of the 
 allies of France." 
 
 The proposition, meeting with the decided approba 
 tion of the local authorities, and of the king to whom 
 it was submitted, the bust of La Fayette, executed by 
 the order of Mr. Jefferson, by Mr. Houden, was placed 
 in one of the galleries of the city-hall, with great cer 
 emony, an eloquent address having been delivered on 
 the occasion, by the attorney-general, in which he 
 sketched in the most impressive manner, the important 
 services of La Fayette in North America, the confi 
 dence the nation reposed in him, and the unbounded 
 affection of the people for him. 
 
 In the year 86, La Fayette again made a tour through 
 various parts of Germany, and visited the courts of 
 Vienna and Berlin. But whilst extending his know 
 ledge by acquainting himself with the affairs of other 
 nations, the deep interest he felt in the welfare of Amer 
 ica, was not it any degree impaired or diminished, 
 and during his travels, he was distressed and alarmed 
 at the intelligence he received of the disorders which 
 prevailed in the United States, the discords and disaf- 
 
14 MAlUtUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 fection of the people, the low state of public credit, 
 the disregard of the authority of congress, and the 
 crude political notions and general spirit of insubordi 
 nation which every where prevailed; and which in 
 one state had led to actual insurrection. Deeply im 
 pressed with these alarming circumstances relating to 
 his beloved America, he addressed to Washington a 
 letter, filled with noble and patriotic sentiments, and 
 which shows the anxiety that he still continued to feel 
 in common with all real patriots here, for the welfare 
 and prosperity of the United States then placed in the 
 most critical condition. 
 
 "About this time," says Marshall, "Gen. Washington 
 received a long and affectionate letter from the Mar 
 quis de La Fayette, who had just returned from a 
 tour through the north of Europe. In communicating 
 the occurrences at the courts he had visited, and es 
 pecially at that of Prussia, whose aged and distin 
 guished monarch, uniting the acquirements of the schol 
 ar with the most profound skill in the art of war, 
 could bestow either literary or military fame, he dwelt 
 with enthusiasm on the plaudits which were universally 
 bestowed on his military patron and paternal friend. 
 "I wish" he added, "the other sentiments I have had 
 occasion to discover with respect to America, were 
 equally satisfactory with those that are personal to 
 yourself. I need not say that the spirit, the firmness, 
 with which the revolution was condu^ t!, has excited 
 universal admiration. That every friend to the rights 
 of mankind is an enthusiast for the principles on which 
 those constitutions are built: but I have often had 
 the mortification to hear that the want of powers in 
 congress, of union between the states, of energy in 
 their government, would make the confederation very 
 insignificant. By their conduct in the revolution," he 
 added "the citizens of America have commanded the 
 respect of the world; but it grieves me to think they 
 will in a measure lose it, unless they strengthen the con 
 federation, give congress power to regulate their trade. 
 pay off their debt, or at least the interest of it, estab 
 lish a well-regulated militia, and in a word, complete 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 515 
 
 all those measures which you have recomended to 
 them. 
 
 "Unhappily for us," said the general in reply, "though 
 the reports you mention are greatly exaggerated, our 
 conduct has laid the foundation for them. It is one of 
 the evils of democratic governments, that the people 
 not always seeing, and frequently misled, must often 
 feel before they act right. But evils of this nature sel 
 dom fail to work their own cure. It is to be lamented 
 nevertheless, that the remedies are so slow, and that 
 those who wish to apply them seasonably, are not at 
 tended to before they suffer in person, in interest, and 
 reputation. I am not without hopes that matters will 
 soon take a favourable turn in the federal constitution. 
 The discerning part of the community have long since 
 seen the necessity of giving adequate powers to congress 
 for national purposes, and those of a different descrip 
 tion must yield to it ere long." 
 
 Hitherto the career of the Marquis de La Fayette 
 had been uniformly successful and glorious; his advance 
 in the path of honour and military fame, and in aiding 
 the cause of liberty, had been smooth, dignified, and 
 without interruption; his popularity, like a placid but 
 magnificent stream, increased in volume and force as it 
 flowed smoothly along, occasionally ruffled by the winds, 
 but never torn by cataracts or agitated by the rage of 
 the elements But the time had now arrived that he 
 was no longer to enjoy a clear horizon and serene sky, 
 without interruption; the smooth current of his popu 
 larity is exposed to be agitated and broken by the rage 
 of the most tremendous storms, and all the maddening 
 fury of the elements. 
 
 To have been the successful hero and patriot of two 
 revolutions, would have been a more glorious destiny 
 than belonged to any mortal ; there is no such example 
 in the history of mankind; it was not therefore reserved 
 for La Fayette. He had acquired sufficient glory, and 
 rendered sufficient service to his fellow mortals by the 
 part he had acted in the American Revolution ; this 
 will render his name as immortal as that of the country 
 whose independence and liberty he contributed to 
 
 R3 
 
MAKQ.UIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 establish, and as venerated as those of the illustrious 
 individuals with which it is associated. 
 
 He was designed to act a part equally, and indeed 
 much more conspicuous in the political revolution in 
 France, than he had in America ; but with much less suc 
 cess or glory ; not, however, from any fault of his. He 
 contributed as much, perhaps more than any other indvid- 
 ual, to give an impetus to the ball of the revolution; but 
 having got in motion, it was no longer in his power to 
 stop it, or even to regulate its course. If we look back 
 to the influence he had on the part taken by France in 
 the American struggle, it cannot be doubted that he is 
 entitled to the honour of having contributed directly and 
 indirectly, much more towards producing the first move 
 ment in favour of a political reform in France, than any 
 other individual. The struggle between the United 
 States and Great Britain, and the part taken in it by 
 France, is undoubtedly the principal cause of the dread 
 ful revolution which soon followed in that kingdom. It 
 added greatly to the public debt, and completely deran 
 ged the already embarrassed finances of the nation. 
 The American contest was professedly a war for liberty; 
 it led to an examination and discussion, both in the 
 United States and in England, of the first principles of 
 government, of the rights of man, and of the origin and 
 nature of monarchy; and these discussions were gener 
 ally republished in France, and from a national bias, 
 the people approved of the American side of the argu 
 ment. The French officers and soldiers who had been 
 engaged in the American war, in some measure had the 
 spirit of the revolution infused into their minds. Being 
 engaged in the same cause with the Americans, they 
 imbibed the same feelings, and in no small degree adop 
 ted the same principles. It was natural, therefore, for 
 those who had fought for liberty abroad, to look into 
 the political state of their own nation ; and it was a pain 
 ful reflection to all who had contributed to establish the 
 independence and freedom of America, to perceive 
 the oppressed and degraded condition of their own 
 country. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA PAYETTE. 517 
 
 In the commencement and early part of the revolution, 
 the American hero and patriot, acted a most distin 
 guished and influential part. He was a member of the 
 Assembly of Notables, which convened in 1787, and 
 was nominated one of the members of the committee 
 under the Count D Artois, the present king of France. 
 Here he was a zealous and intrepid advocate for the 
 correction of existing abuses in the government and a 
 political reformation. He read several memorials, 
 distinguished for their noble political sentiments, and 
 freedom and boldness of language. His zeal and inde 
 pendence gave great offence to the Count D Artois, and 
 called down upon him the suspicions and hostility of the 
 court, which placed him in a very delicate and critical 
 situation; but he was supported by the committee, who 
 approved of his memorials. One of the members in 
 the warmth of his feelings said to him "Your achieve 
 ments in America had already enrolled your name in 
 the list of heroes, but never before have you so justly 
 deserved that glorious distinction. How happy I should 
 be was there a sculptor present to perpetuate your 
 zeal for the welfare of your country and your king." 
 Being encouraged from the support he received, La 
 Fayette followed up his patriotic plans, and proposed a 
 series of reforms, the suppression of the state prisons, 
 and the let t res de cachet^ and obtained a resolution fa* 
 vouring the civil rights of the protestants. But the 
 most important measure which he proposed was the 
 convocationof the States-General, which had so impor 
 tant an influence on the destinies of France, and of all 
 Europe. "What," said the Count D Artois, "do yoa 
 ask for the States-General?" M lfes," replied La Fay^ 
 ette,"an.d for something more and better;" an intimatioi 
 not then understood. 
 
 La Favette was chosen a deputy to this celebrated 
 body, which convened in the month of May, 1789, and 
 assumed the name of the National Assembly. He at 
 once became a leading and influential member, and as 
 vice-president, presided during the important sitting on 
 the night of the 13th and 14th of July, the moment the 
 Bastile was falling before the furious assaults of tb* 
 populace. 
 
SI 8 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 On the llth of July, he submitted to the National 
 Assembly, the first declaration of the rights of man, 
 which he introduced with the following memorable 
 language. 
 
 "Although my powers do not extend fo me the right of voting among 
 you, it is my duly to lay my opinion before you. 
 
 "You have been presented with the declaration of rights, as the first ob 
 ject of your labour and attention. 
 
 "That declaration is indispensable. It is not founded upon metaphys 
 ical opinions, but upon the very basis of social order. 
 
 "It is of the first importance that those rights which are engraven on 
 every man s heart, should be distinctly and unequivocally recognised. 
 
 "Yet it is rny opinion that this declaration should be confined to a 
 statement of the unalieriable rights of man, and of man as we find him in 
 a state of society. 
 
 "I have now the honour to submit the first model of such a declara 
 tion. ^ 
 
 . "I am far from insisting that it shall be adopted as it is; I only ask that 
 it be copied, to be circulated freely among the different committees." 
 
 AI. de Lally Tolendal arose, and said "With the except ion of a few 
 lines, which admit, perhaps, of some little discussion, I second the mo 
 tion which has just been offered. All the principles contained therein are 
 the sacred emantionsof truth; all the sentiments are noble and sublime. 
 The author of the motion now displays as much eloquence in speak 
 ing of liberty, as he has already shown courage in defending it. 
 
 It was under his influence that a decree was adopted 
 providing for the responsibility of the ministers, which 
 was predicated on one of the elementary principles of 
 limited and representative monarchy. He took an ac 
 tive and influential part in the important discussions 
 of this period, the bill of rights, and the constitution, 
 which having been matured, was adopted and sworn 
 to, with the most solemn ceremony, by the members 
 of the assembly in the Champ de Mars, on the 14th 
 of July, 1790,the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile. 
 
 Alter the fall of this strong castle of despotism, before 
 the rude assault of an immense armed multitude, of all 
 ages and conditions, great disorders prevailed ; the peo 
 ple had become enraged and their passions inflamed, 
 and being encouraged by success, it was difficult to res 
 train them or check their excesses. At this critical 
 conjuncture, two days after the capture of the Bastile, 
 La Fayette was appointed to command the National 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 519 
 
 Guards of Paris, by M. Bailly, who had been elected 
 mayor of that city. To increase the disorders, great 
 scarcity prevailed in the large cities, which threatened 
 a famine, and immense multitudes of both sexes were 
 patroling the streets with the cries of bread! bread! 
 La Fayette did all in his power to preserve tranquillity, 
 and protect the persons and property of the citizens. 
 The assembly also exerted themselves to calm the pub 
 lic mind, and to maintain the public peace; they also 
 steadily advanced forward in the great objects of the 
 revolution, and endeavoured to act out the principles 
 they had already recognised. They passed a decree 
 for the security of persons and property, and enjoining 
 the payment of taxes as usual; they also abolished the 
 most odious features of the feudal system, which was 
 followed by the suppression of tithes; and they declared 
 that henceforth all distinctions political and personal 
 should cease, and that France should be one nation, one 
 family, governed by the same laws, and that all other 
 titles should be merged in that of French Citizen. The 
 constitution of 90, divided France into eighty-three de 
 partments, abolished the feudal system, and lettres dc 
 cachet, fixed the qualifications of electors, provided that 
 the representatives were to form but one chamber, and 
 rendered the sale of offices criminal, annihilated all 
 orders and distinctions, granted to the king his veto on 
 all acts of the assembly, and established triennial le 
 gislatures. 
 
 In all these important measures, calculated to give to 
 man his dignity, his rights, his liberty, and to render a 
 nation free, powerful, prosperous and happy, La Fay 
 ette look an active and decided part. If these meas 
 ures did not produce the happy results intended, let it 
 not be considered as an impeachment of the great prin 
 ciples on which they were founded, or of the patriotic 
 motives of their authors. The leaders in the first or 
 constituent assembly, La Fayette, Mirabeau, Brissot, 
 &c. were distinguished men, and their patriotic conduct, 
 although not successful to the extent, they had reason to 
 expect, is, nevertheless, the source of most of the politi 
 cal advantages which France now enjoys. And there 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 is reason to believe, that neither th e imperial despotism 
 of Napoleon, or the re-establishment of the throne and 
 dynasty of the Bourbons, nor all the violence and disor 
 ders of the revolution, can extinguish the light which 
 these illustrious men contributed to disseminate. The 
 seeds of liberty, sown in the early stages of the revolu 
 tion, although at first producing a growth too rank and 
 luxuriant to ripen to maturity, and afterward for a long 
 period, choked by thorns, nevertheless can hardly fail, in 
 due time, of producing their proper fruits. But however 
 this may be, it will be in vain for the minions of royalty 
 to impeach the motives and integrity of those distin 
 guished patriots, or to sully the lustre of their well- 
 earned fame. The fidelity of history will do them 
 justice, and enrol their names among the first patriots 
 and benefactors of their country. 
 
 The situation of La Fayette as commander of the 
 National Guards, was one of peculiar difficulty and 
 delicacy, as it brought him into constant contact with 
 the court and the throne. On the 5th of October, 1790, 
 a vast multitude, principally women, appeared in the 
 streets of Paris, crying out bread! bread! Being joined 
 by a company of the volunteers of the Bastile, they set 
 out for Versailles, the residence of the royal family.- 
 From the contagion of example, the National Guards 
 insisted on proceeding hither likewise; and La Fayette 
 believing it difficult to restrain them, and also that the 
 guards under his direction might prevent the excesses of 
 the multitude, thought it advisable to let them proceed; 
 and having obtained the sanction of the municipal au-: 
 thnrity, he led the guards to Versailles, where he arri 
 ved about ten o clock at night. He had been on horse 
 back from before day light in the morning, and made 
 incredible exertions to calm the guards and repress vio 
 lence. "The Marquis de La Fayette," says Madame 
 de Stael, "entered the Chateau, and passing through the 
 apartment where we were, went to the king. We all 
 pressed around him as if he was master of events, and 
 yet the popular party was already more powerful than 
 its chief, and principles were yielding to factions, or rath- 
 <**, were beginning to serve only as their pretext. M. de 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 521 
 
 La Fayette s manner was perfectly calm; nobody ever 
 saw it otherwise ; but his delicacy suffered from the part 
 he was to act. He asked for the interior posts of the 
 Chateau in order that he might ensure their safety, but 
 only the outer posts were granted to him." This refu 
 sal was not from want of confidence in La Fayette, but 
 because by the etiquette of the court, the immediate 
 defence of the royal family could be intrusted to none 
 but the guards of the royal household. La Fayette 
 therefore held himself responsible for the post committed 
 to him and the national guards. The king and queen 
 retired to rest between two and three o clock ; and about 
 four, a portion of the populace found their way into the 
 interior of the palace through an obscure passage, which 
 had been overlooked, and which was not in that part of 
 the Chateau entrusted to La Fayette. They were evi 
 dently led by persons acquainted with the secret ave 
 nues, and soon made their way to the queen s chamber; 
 two of her guards were instantly cut down, and she nar 
 rowly escaped, almost naked. La Fayette rushed in 
 at this instant, at the head of the National Guards, and 
 rescued the Swiss Guards from popular violence, and 
 saved the royal family, which came near being sacrifi 
 ced to the etiquette of the court. 
 
 At dawn of day, an immense multitude surrounded 
 the palace, and filled the vast space called, from the 
 rich materials of which it is constructed, the court of 
 marble. In loud and angry vociferations they called oil 
 the king to accompany them to Paris, and on the queen 
 to present herself at the balcony. The king, after a 
 short consultation with his ministers, concluded to set 
 out for the capital. La Fayette apprehending that it 
 would be unsafe for the queen to go, knowing the vio 
 lence of the populace towards her, went and asked her 
 if she intended to accompany the king to Paris. "Yes, 1 
 she replied, "although I am sensible of the danger." 
 "Are you positively determined?" "Yes Sir." "Con 
 descend then," said La Fayette, "to go out on the bal 
 cony, and suffer me to attend you." "Without the king?" 
 she hesitatingly replied "have you heard the threats?" 
 "Yes, Madame, I have, but dare to trust me." He con* 
 
522 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ducted her to the balcony ; it was a moment of the most, 
 awful and delicate responsibility; the agitations, cries, 
 and shouts of the vast multitude, like the sound of mighty 
 waters, prevented his voice from being heard; but not 
 on this or any other occasion did his presence of mind 
 fail him ; he simply, with that ease and grace which dis 
 tinguished the old court of France, kissed her hand, in 
 view of the multitude. This unexpected event was 
 viewed for a moment with silent astonishment by the 
 populace, but soon the air resounded with the cries of, 
 "long live the queen! long live the general," from that 
 same fickle populace, who, a few hours before, had em- 
 brued their hands in the blood of the guards who de 
 fended this same queen. It was on this occasion that 
 the guards first placed the tri-coloured cockade in their 
 hats, and supplicated for mercy in behalf of the king. 
 The popular rage for a time seemed to subside, but was 
 soon revived by the cry of "to Paris, to Paris!" The king 
 having thought it prudent to comply with the demands 
 of the populace, accompanied by a deputation of two 
 hundred of the assembly and the National Guards, set 
 out for Paris. He was preceded by an executioner, be 
 tween two wretches, each with a bloody head suspended 
 upon a pike, and followed by an immense multitude. 
 La Fayette could not prevent this indignity being offered 
 the king, but succeeded in preventing much violence and 
 bloodshed. 
 
 The discontents of the nobility and clergy broke out 
 into a civil war in La Vendee, and faction raged in the 
 capital. On the 20th June, 91, the Royal Family fled 
 from the capital with the intention of leaving the king 
 dom, and proceeded to Varennes, where they were dis 
 covered and conducted back to Paris. Conducted by 
 the citizens of Varennes, and surrounded by an immense 
 body of the National Guards, the royal family passed 
 along the streets and squares amidst half a million of 
 spectators: no murmurs or reproaches were heard, nor 
 a solitary voice greeted the royal ear with the expres 
 sion of joy; not a hand was uplifted nor a head uncov- 
 covered to honour the sovereign, but a sullen silence 
 prevailed. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 523 
 
 From the increasing strength of the Jacobin faction, 
 the situation of La Fayette became every day more 
 difficult and critical ; he was placed between Scylla and 
 Charibdis; the violent leaders on the one hand tending 
 to disorder and anarchy, and the king and old aristoc 
 racy on the other. But by a steady adherence to prin 
 ciple he preserved his consistency and honour in the 
 most difficult circumstances. As a member of the as 
 sembly he supported all rational plans of reform, in ma 
 turing and perfecting the revolution, and opposed all 
 violent measures. On the 20th of June, 179r, he s< 
 conded a motion for the abolition of all titles of nobility. 
 From this time he renounced nis own title of Marquis, 
 and has never since resumed it himself, although some 
 times so called by others. He used all his influence to 
 complete the constitution, which it was decided should 
 be received and adopted -in the assembly and the nation, 
 in the most imposing and solemn manner, and Cor which 
 purpose the 14th of July, 1790 the anniversary of the 
 destruction of the Bastile, was selected as an appropri 
 ate occasion. The labour of from one to two hundred 
 thousand persons of all conditions and sexes, dukes, 
 duchesses, bishops, deputies, butchers, porters, &r,. in a 
 few weeks raised an amphitheatre of earth four miles in 
 circumference, in the area behind the military school, 
 called the Champ de Mars, from the champus Martius 
 of the Romans. Seats rising above each other were 
 formed round the sides for the people, and in the centre 
 was erected the throne and the altar. The king, officers 
 of the government, the deputies of the national assem* 
 bly, a deputation of military from each department, and 
 a concourse of citizens amounting in all to more than 
 four hundred thousand, were collected in the grand am 
 phitheatre, which gave a magnificence and sublimity to 
 the national festival. Mass having been said, La Fay 
 ette, who commanded tlae National Guards and the 
 military, approached the altar, and in the presence of 
 this vast concourse swore to the constitution in behalf of 
 the natioo. It was an awful situation ; every eye of this 
 vast assemblage was directed towards him, and every 
 haad raised to join with him in the^oath. The world has 
 
 r S3 
 
524 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 never witnesed so magnificent and solemn a ceremony, 
 or perhaps an individual voluntarily raised 10 s ^ exalted 
 and conspicuous a situation. lie had the command of 
 six millions of men, directed this august national cere- 
 monv, and was the organ of the nation itself. After La 
 Fayette,the members of the assembly swore to the con 
 stitution. 
 
 On the 13th September, Louis informed the assembly 
 that he had given his sanction to the constitution, which 
 was solemnly proclaimed throughout the kingdom; and 
 on the 30th of the same month the president proclaim 
 ed, "That having concluded the object for which they 
 had convened, the. national assembly declares its powers 
 to be at an end, and that it will set no Ion :er." Thus, 
 after a session of two years, terminated the labours of 
 thi- first, or constituent assembly; a body of m-n as dis 
 tinguished for talents and patriotism as any other over 
 convened ; and if we except the American congress of 
 76, perhaps the labours and discussions of no other, 
 were ever more important. Soon after La Favette. 
 having completed the organization of the National 
 Guards, resigned, and retired to his estate ! hn second 
 national assembly, commenced by taking the oaih to 
 support the constitution. Alarmed for their security, 
 the nobility and clergy fled from the kingdom; an-1 the 
 princes of the blood having repaired to Coblentz. that 
 place became a general rendezvous of the emigrants; 
 and the Prince of Conde soon began to assemble an 
 army of malcontents. 
 
 When the political society, first called the "Friends 
 of the People," and afterward the "Jacobin Club," hav 
 ing fallen under the ii>fluence of Robespierre and Dan- 
 ton, had become odious and a most dangerous engine, 
 La Favette, with Talleyrand, the Duke de Rochefaii- 
 cault and Lainconrt, the two Lameths and others, at 
 tempted to counteract its pernicious influence, by the 
 establishment of another society, called "The Club of 
 J789;" but they were afterward commonly called the 
 FuillanSi from the convent where they assembled. This 
 party were the constitutionalists, of whom La Fayette 
 may be regarded as the head ; they continued in general 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 525 
 
 to act with the Girondists, who were believed to be 
 favourable to a republic, and were distinguished for tal 
 ents, patriotism and virtue. These two parties united, 
 formed a decided majority in the assembly, and Tor a 
 long time kepi down the Jacobin faction, headed by 
 Robespierre and Danton. 
 
 Whilst the nation was agitated with disorders and 
 factions within, a storm was gathering from without, 
 which threatened the desolation of France. The trea 
 ty of Pilnitz, consummated the first coalition against 
 France: the professed object of which, was to regulate 
 its internal affairs, and to re-establish the monarchy 
 with all its original powers and prerogatives; but its 
 real object probably was, had it been successful, to have 
 subjected France to the fate of Poland. This outrage 
 ous enterprise on the part of the allied powers, and the 
 insulting demands of the Emperor of Austria, overcome 
 the dread of war at first felt by the people, and roused 
 the spirit of the nation. This spirit was inflamed to the 
 highest pitch by a popular and eloquent address to the 
 nation, published by the assembly, which immediately 
 followed the decree of war. And the conduct of the 
 French emigrants, who assembled on the borders of the 
 state in a hostile manner, ready to invade their country, 
 excited the highest indignation of the people. 
 
 The assembly displayed great activity in preparing 
 to prosecute hostilities. Three large armies took the 
 field ; one commanded by La Fayette, who was called 
 from his voluntary retirement for this purpose, one by 
 Marshal Rochambeau, and the other by Marshal Luck- 
 ner. Their first operations were not susccessful: the 
 three generals had formed one plan of the campaign, 
 and the cabinet had formed another, and the dissensions 
 between them soon led to serious embarrassments and 
 difficulties. By the former scheme, La Fayette, was to 
 have been entrusted with the execution of an enterprise 
 against the Low Countries, or Austrian Netherlands, at 
 the head of 50,000 men, and was to have been support 
 ed by a second army under Rochambeau; whilst a third 
 was to have taken possession of Mentz. 
 
526 MAftQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The expedition against Tournay, and that against 
 Mons, both failed ; from which cause the advantages of 
 the occupation of Fumes were obliged to be relinquish 
 ed. La Fayette with the main army proceeded to 
 Givet, where it was intended to make a general rendez 
 vous in the heart of the Austrian Netherlands. The 
 failure of the two first expeditions, disconcerted his 
 plans and embarrassed his operations; he was able 
 however to keep his ground. His army occupied the 
 tract of country extending from Givet to Bouvines. In 
 the month of June the French armies had made consid 
 erable progress in the Netherlands; but The Austrians 
 a : jd Prussians advancing with a superior force, they 
 were obliged to retreat to Givet and Valenciennes. In 
 the mean time the cabinet was distracted by conten 
 tions, which led to the resignation of Kocharnbeau, and. 
 finally to a change of. the ministry, which was succeed 
 ed by an administration of the Fuillant party. They 
 did not possess the confidence of the people or the ma 
 jority of the assembly, and their power was short 
 The dismission of the old and the appointment of the 
 new ministry, increased the strength and boldness of 
 the Jacobin, or violent partv, both, in the assembly and 
 natron. This, and other measures of the king, together 
 with the coalition of sovereigns against France for the 
 avowed object of restoring Louis to his prerogatives 
 and power, had occasioned suspicions that he secretly 
 favoured the designs of the enemies of France, and that 
 if he could escape, he would leave the country and 
 throw himself into their hands. The conduct of the al 
 lies and of the king favoured these suspicions, and en 
 abled the leaders of the violent party to inflame the 
 fears and passions of the people to the highest pitch. 
 The violent party were still a minority in the assembly; 
 but by their boldness, their violent measures, and the 
 control and direction they had acquired over public opin 
 ion, they over awed the delibeiations, and in a great 
 measure dictated to the assembly. The leaders of this 
 party feared no man so much as La Fayette: from his 
 known integrity, his attachment to the constitution, the 
 nation and the king, from the popularity he still main- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. .027 
 
 tained with moderate men of all parties, and above all 
 from his having the command of the army, they were sen 
 sible that they could never succeed in their ambitious 
 plans until he was out of the way; they were determin 
 ed therefore to destroy him. He was denounced in the 
 assembly and the papers as having engaged in a con 
 spiracy with the kiug against the nation. But neither 
 the personal danger to which he perceived himself ex 
 posed, nor the gathering storm whirh threatened to 
 burst on his country, shook his firmness in the least, or 
 deterred him from making a bold and resolute effort, to 
 save the constitution, the king and his country from all 
 the evils of anarchy and civil war. Accordingly, on 
 the 16th of June, he addressed to the national assembly, 
 a long letter, in which he openly denounced the Jacobin 
 faction as the authors of all the mischiefs which afflict 
 ed the nation, and conjured the assembly to crush the 
 factions and save the nation. This letter unfolded the 
 situation and sentiments of La Fayette so fully at this 
 conjuncture, that it ought not to be omitted in a memoir 
 
 of his life: 
 
 At the entrenched camp of ) 
 Maubege, IMh June, 1792. \ 
 
 "Gentlemen, 
 
 "At the moment, perhaps too long deferred, in which I am 
 about to call your attention to the highest public interests, and to point 
 out among our dangers, the conduct of a ministry, whom I have foi a 
 long time censured in-my correspondence, I learn that, unmasked in con- 
 3equence of its own divisions, it has fallen a sacrifice to its own intrigues. 
 [This was the Brissotin ministry.] Jt is not enough, however, that this 
 branch of the government has been delivered from its disastrous influence. 
 The public welfare is in peril The fate of France depends principally 
 on its representatives The nation expects from them its security. But 
 in giving them a constitution, France has prescribed to them the only means 
 by which she can be saved. 
 
 "Persuaded, gentlemen, that as the rights of man are the law of every* 
 constituent assembly, a constitution ought to be the law of the legislators, 
 which that constitu ion shall have established. It is to you that I ought 
 to denounce the too f o^verful efforts which are making, to induce you to 
 depart from that course which you have promised to pursue. 
 
 "Nothing shall deter me from the exercise of this right of a freeman, to 
 fulfil this duty of a citizen ; neither the momentary errors of opinion; for 
 what are opinions when they depart from principles? nor my respect for 
 the representatives of the people ; for I respect still more the people whose 
 sovereign will it is to have a constitution : nor the benevolence and kind 
 ness which you have constantly evinced for myself; for I would preserve 
 that as I obtained it, by an inflexible love of liberty, 
 
528 MARQUIS DE LA FAYfcTTE. 
 
 "Your situation is difficult France is menaced from without, and 
 agitated within. Whilst foreign powers announce the intolerable (inad 
 missible) project of attacking our national sovereignty, and avow it as a 
 principle! at the same time the enemies of France, its interior enemies, 
 intoxicated with fanaticism and pride, entertain chimerical hopes, and 
 annoy us with their insolent malevolence. You ought, gentlemen, <o 
 repress them; and you will have the power so to do, only when you snail 
 become constitutional and ju&t. You wisji it, no doubt; bin cast your 
 eyes upon all that passes within your own body and around you. Can 
 you dissemble even to yourselves, that a faction, (and to avoid all vague 
 denunciations) the jacobin faction^ have caused all these disorders? It 
 is that which I boldly accuse organized like a separate empire in the me 
 tropolis, and its affiliated societies, blindly directed by some ambitious 
 leaders, this sect forms a corporation entirely distinct in the mid*t of the 
 French people, whose powers it usurps, by tyrannizing over its representa 
 tives and constituted authorities. 
 
 "It is in that body, in its public meeting, the love of the laws is de 
 nounced as aristocracy, and their breach as patriotism. There the assas 
 sins of Dessilles receive their triumphs, the crimes of Jourdaii find pane 
 gyrists. There the recital of the massacre which has stained the city of 
 Mctz, has also been received with infernal acclamations! Have they be- 
 co.ne sacred because the emperor Leopold has pronounced their name? 
 And because it is our highest duty to combat the foreigner* who mingle in 
 our domestic quarrels, are we at liberty to refrain from delivering our 
 country from domestic tyranny? 
 
 "Of what importance is it, as to the fulfilment of this duty, that stran 
 gers have their projects, and their connivance and concert with our inter 
 nal foes? It is I, who denounce to you this sect (the jacobins;) 1, who, 
 without speaking of my past life, can reply to those who suspect my mo 
 tives "Approach, in this moment of awful crisis, when the character of 
 each man must be known, and see which of us, more inflexible in his prin 
 ciples, more obstinate in his resistance, will more courageously overcome 
 those obstacles, and those dangers, which traitors o their country conceal, 
 and which true citizens know how to appreciate, and to brave for her." 
 
 "And how could I delay longer to fulfil this duty, whilst every succes 
 sive day weakens still more the constituted authorities,, substitutes the 
 spirit of party for the will of the people; whilst the audacity of the 
 agitators, [the disorganizes] imposes silence on peaceable citizens, throws 
 into retirement useful men, and whilst devotion to the sect or party stands 
 in the place of public bnd private virtues, which, in a free country, ought 
 to be the austere [severe, or strict] and only means of attaining to public 
 office. 
 
 "It is, after having opposed to all the obstacles, and to all the snares, 
 which were laid for me, the courageous and persevering patriotism of an 
 army, sacrificed perhaps to conspiracies against its commander, [La Fay- 
 ette was the commander] that I now opj>ose to this faction the correspon 
 dence of a ministry, worthy representative of its club a correspondence, 
 the calculations of which are false, its promises vain and illusory its in 
 formation deceitful or frivolous its advice perfidious or contradictory 
 correspondence, in which after pressing me to advance without precaution 
 to attack without mean* they finally began to tell me that resistance 
 
MARQtTIS DE LA FAYETTE* 529 
 
 was impossible , when I indignantly repelled the c wardly and base asser 
 tion. What a remarkable conformity of language, gentlemen, between 
 the factions whom the aristocracy avow, and those who usurp the name of 
 patriots! They both wish to overthrow our laws, rejoice in our disor 
 ders, array themselves against the constituted authorities, detest the nation 
 al guards (the militia) preach insubordination to the army sow, at one 
 moment, distrust, at another, discouragement. 
 
 "As to myself, gentlemen, who embraced the American cause at the 
 moment when its ambassadors declared to me that it was perilous or despe 
 rate who from that moment have devoted my life to a persevering de 
 fence of liberty and of the sovereignty of the people who, on the } 4th 
 of July, 1789, (after the taking of the Bastile,) in presenting to my 
 country a declaration of rights dared to say, "that in order that a nation 
 should be free, it is only necessary that it should will so to be," I come, 
 this day, fall of confidence in the justice of our cause of contempt, for 
 the cowards who desert it, and of indignation against the traitors who 
 would sully or stain it with crimes; I am ready to declare that the French 
 nation, if it is not the rilest in the universe, can and ought to resist the 
 conspiracy of kings who have coalesced against it! 
 
 "It is not in the midst of my brave army that timid counsels should be 
 permitted Patriotism, discipline, patience, mutual confidence, all the mili 
 tary and civil virtues I find here. Here the principles of liberty and 
 equality are cherished, the laws respected, property held sacred. Here 
 ealumnies and factions are unknown. And when I reflect that France 
 has many millions who can become such soldiers, I ask myself, to what a 
 degree of debasement must such an immense people be reduced, stronger 
 in its natural resources than in its artificial defences, opposing to a mon 
 strous and discordant confederation simple and united counsels and com 
 binations, that tlie cowardly, degrading idea of sacrificing its sovereignty, 
 of permitting any discussion as to its liberties, of committing to negotia 
 tion its rights, could be considered among the possibilities of a rapidly 
 advancing futurity! 
 
 "But, in order that we, soldiers of liberty, should combat for her with 
 efficacy, or die for her with any fruit or advantage, it is necessary that 
 the number of the defenders of the country should be promptly made 
 in some degree proportionate to that of our opponents; that the supplies 
 of all descriptions should be increased so as to facilitate our movements; 
 that the comfort and conveniences of the troops, their clothes and arms, 
 their pay, the accommodations for the sick, should no longer be subject to 
 fatal delays, or to a miserable and misplaced economy, which defeats its 
 very end. 
 
 "ft is above ott, necessary that the citizens rallied round their constitu 
 tion, should be assured that the rights which that constitution guarantees 
 shall be respected with a religious fidelity; which will of itself cause 
 more despair to our enemies than any other measure. 
 
 "Do not repel this desire this ardent wish. It is that of all the sin 
 cere friends of your legitimate authority; assured that no unjust conse 
 quences or effect can flow from apure principle --that no tyrannical meas 
 ure can save a cause, which owes its force, aye, and its glory, to the sa 
 cred principles of liberty and equality. Let criminal jurisprudence resume 
 ite constituthnftl power. Let civil equality let religious freedom enjoy 
 
530 MAR^IS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 the application of their true principles. In fine, let the reign of ihe clubs 
 be annihilated by you; let them give place to the laws their usurpations 
 to the firm and independent exercise of the powers of the constituted au 
 thorities their disorganizing maxims to the true principles of liberty 
 Iheir delirious fury to the calm and constant courage of a nation which 
 knows its rights, and is ready to defend them in fine, their sectarian com 
 binations to the true interests of the country, of the nation, which in a 
 moment of danger ought to unite aW, except those to whom its subjection 
 and ruin are the objects of atrocious pleasure and infamous speculation. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 
 The sentiments contained in this letter, are bold, no 
 ble, and patriotic, worthy of the d is ciple of Washington, 
 and of the hero and patriot of the American revolution. 
 But the efforts ofLaFayette were in vain; the audacity 
 and violence of the jacobin faction continued to increase; 
 the assembly had not the courage or the power to repress 
 them, and affairs rapidly approached a crisis. On the 
 20th of June, a vast and promiscuous multitude, headed 
 by Santerre, armed with pikes and proceeded with two 
 cannon, advanced to the palace, and overcoming every 
 obstacle, found their way to the presence of the king 
 and royal family. They read a petition to his ma 
 jesty, praying for the dismissal of the new ministry and 
 the relinquishment of his veto, by means of which he 
 had suspended several decrees. Louis manifested 
 great courage and firmness, and after an animated ad 
 dress from Vergniaux, a leading member of the assem 
 bly, and a few words from Petion, mayor of Paris, the 
 populace withdrew, without committing any violence; 
 but not until they had placed the red cap of liberty on 
 the head of the king, to see how the symbol of free 
 dom, would become the brow of royalty. 
 
 This and other outrages, together with the repeated 
 denunciations against himself, induced La Fayette to 
 confront his accusers, and make one more still bolder 
 effort, to rouse the assembly to a sense of danger, and 
 inspire them with that courage and firmness, demanded 
 by the crisis. Leaving the head-quarters of the army, 
 lie repaired to Paris, and fearlessly presented himsell 
 before the bar of the national assembly, confronted his 
 enemies, and demanded to be jriecl. Being acquitted 
 by a great majority, "he entreated the assembly to come 
 
BE LA FAYETTE. 531 
 
 4 orward and save the country, from ruin by dissolving 
 the factious clubs and inflicting exemplary punishment 
 on the authors of the late disgraceful riots." His 
 friends in the assembly were numerous, and undoubt 
 edly a majority of that body condemned the violent pro 
 ceedings against which lie raised his voice; but they 
 had not courage to act; the assembly were overawed 
 and enslaved by the audacity and tyranny of desperate 
 and unprincipled demagogues who controlled the fury 
 of the populace. The presence of La Fayette, revived 
 the recollections of the national gaurds of Paris, of his 
 unbounded popularity when he was placed at their head; 
 they assembled before the hotel where he lodged, plant 
 ed the tree of liberty before the door, decorated it with 
 ensigns and ribbons, and greeted him with enthusiastic 
 exclamations of La Fayette and the constitution! La 
 Fayette and liberty, viva 4e La Fayette! 
 
 Finding, that all his efforts to preserve tranquillity, 
 repress the factions, and preserve the constitution were 
 unavailing, he left the capital and returned to the army 
 on the frontiers. On retiring he addressed the following 
 note to the assembly, containing the most noble and 
 patriotic sentiments, expressed in dignified language. 
 
 ^Gentlemen In returning to the post where brave soldiers are ready 
 to die for the constitution, but ought not and will not lavish their blood 
 except for that, I go with great and deep regret in not being able to inform 
 the army, that the national assembly have yet deigned to come to any de 
 termination on my petition. [Alluding to the request in his letter to the 
 assembly a short time before to suppress the Jacobin clubs.] The voice 
 of all the good citizens of the kingdom, which some factious clamours 
 strive to stifle, daily calls to the elected representatives of the people, that 
 while there exists near them a sect who fetter all the authorities, and men 
 ace their independence; and who, after provoking war, are endeavouring, 
 by changing the nature of our cause, to make it impossible to defend it; 
 that while there is cause to blush at the impunity of an act <of treason 
 against the nation, which has raised just and great alarms in the minds of 
 all the French, and universal indignation; our liberty, laws, and honour 
 are in danger. Truths like tfoese, free and generous souls are not afraid 
 of speaking. Hostile to the factions of every kind, indignant at cowards 
 that can sink so low as to look for foreign interposition, and impressed 
 with the principle, which I glory in being the first to declare to France, 
 that all illegal power is oppression, against which resistance becomes a 
 duty, we are anxious to make known our fears to the legislative body. 
 We hope that the prudence of the representatives of the people will re- 
 
 T 3 
 
532 MARQUIS Dfc LA FAYETOE. 
 
 lieve our minds of them. As for me, gentlemen, who will never alter my 
 principles, sentiments, or language, I thought that the national assembly, 
 considering the urgency and danger of circumstances, would permit rare 
 to add my regrets and wishes to my profound respect." 
 
 The boldness, and intrepidity of the conduct of La 
 Fayette on this occasion, when he was openly denoun 
 ced by the violent leaders, and known to be the object 
 of the hatred and vengeance of ail the factious dema 
 gogues, could only have been inspired by a conviction 
 that an awful crisis was impending, and a consciousness 
 of the justness of his cause and the integrity and patri 
 otism of his motives. 
 
 "Thrice is he armed who ha s h is quarrel just, 
 And he but naked, though locked up in steel, 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted/ 
 
 Among the accusations against La Fayette, he was 
 charged with a design to march to Paris with his army, 
 and to force the assembly to act agreeably to his wish 
 es. In behalf of the assembly, the minister of the in 
 terior wrote to him on the subject, and Geu. La Fayette 
 in reply observed "If i were questioned respecting my 
 principles, I should say that as a constant proclaimed 
 and defender of the rights of man and the sovereignty 
 of the people, I have every where and always resisted 
 authorities which liberty disavowed, and which the na 
 tional will had not delegated; and that I have every 
 where and always obeyed those of which a free consti 
 tution had fixed the forms and limits. But I am question 
 ed respecting a fact Did I propose to Marshal Luckner 
 to murcb to Paris with our armies? To which 1 answer 
 in four words it is not true. 
 
 While faction raged within, the storm was gathering 
 without; the coalition having received the accession of 
 several other powers, had collected an army of 80,000 
 men on the frontiers of France, for the invasion of the 
 country. The Duke of Brunswick, who had been ap 
 pointed generalissimo of the combined forces, on the 25th 
 of July issued a manifesto, in which he declared that 
 the object of the coalition was to annihilate the existing 
 government, liberate the king, and re-establish the moir 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 533 
 
 archy and the ancient regime: that the national assem 
 bly should be answerable with their heads for the safety 
 of the royal family; and that the city of Paris should 
 be held responsible for all disorders, and if the least 
 violence should be offered to any one of the royal fam 
 ily, that city should be razed to the ground, and the in 
 habitants exterminated with the sword. He also de 
 nounced vengeance and military execution against all 
 who should be found in arms in support of the existing 
 government, and in defence of their own country. This 
 infamous coalition, as weak as it was wicked, with the 
 avowal of such abominable intention and objects, con 
 firmed the suspicions of the unfortunate monarch, in 
 flamed the already exasperated feelings towards him, 
 and hurried on his fate, and that of France, by strength 
 ening the violent party, and giving them an ascendency. 
 On the 3d of August, Petion. at the head of the Sec 
 tions .of Paris, appeared before the bar of the assembly, 
 and demanded the deposition of the king; and numerous 
 petitions to this effect were received from various quar 
 ters. Affairs having ripened to a crisis, on the night of 
 the 9th of August, a conspiracy was formed by the lead 
 ers of the violent party, to overthrow the king, the 
 monarchy, and the constitution, at one blow. Danton, 
 Desmoulins,Conville, Tallien Fabre d Eglantine, Collot 
 d Herbois, Santerre, and others, met in the hall of the 
 Cordeliers. Danton, with a loud and furious voice, con 
 cluded a vehement speech, in which he recapitulated 
 the crimes of the court, with the following appeal: 
 "Let us cease to appeal to the laws and the legislators, 
 the greater part of them are nothing better than the ac 
 complices of La Fayette, whom they have just absolved. 
 To absolve that traitor is to deliver ourselves to him, to 
 the enemies of France, and to the sanguinary vengeance 
 of the coalesced kings. What do I say! it is this very 
 night which this perfidious Louis has selected for deliv 
 ering up to carnage and to the flames that capital he 
 wishes once more to leave To arms! to arms!" This 
 cry in an instant was repeated from a thousand mouths; 
 it spread like lightning in every direction ; the bells were 
 rung, and in a few minutes the dreadful tocsin of alarm 
 
534 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 resounded through the capital, filling the inhabitants 
 with fear, and carrying terror and dismay to every apart 
 ment of the Thuilleries. More than liO.OUO men, headed 
 by Westermann, armed in various ways, with forty pie 
 ces of cannon, made a furious assault oi> the castle of the 
 Thuilleries. The Swiss Guards made a resolute and 
 obstinate defence, but were overpowered by numbers, 
 nnd nearly all massacred. Before the attack, the king 
 and royal family fled for refuge to the national assembly, 
 where they remained for fourteen hours, in a small box 
 appropriated to the reporter of a newspaper; he was 
 finally conducted, under a strong escort, to the Temple. 
 The king being thus deposed, in fact, and being overawed 
 by the violent leaders, the assembly passed a seriuos of 
 acts declaring the executive power suspended, and the 
 authority vested in the king by the constitution, revoked ; 
 and inviting the people to meet in primary assemblies, 
 and elect members to a national convention. A provis 
 ional executive council was established, and a decree of 
 accusation issued against several of the late ministers. 
 JNews of these violent proceedings reached La Fay- 
 ette, at his head-quarters, at Sedan, on the 10th instant. 
 He did not, for a moment, hesitate how to act : as he had 
 been the first to oppose the despotism of the court, he 
 was also the first to oppose the faction and tyranny of 
 unprincipled demagogues, who trampled under foot the 
 constituion they had sworn to support. He immediately 
 addressed to the army, under his command, the follow 
 ing letter: 
 
 "Citizen Soldiers, 
 
 "It is no longer time to conceal from you what is going forward: the 
 constitution you swore to maintain is no more; a banditti from Mar 
 seilles, and a troop of factious men, besieged the palace of the Thuille 
 ries; the National and Swiss Guards made a vigorous resistance, but for 
 want of ammunition they were obliged to surrender. 
 
 "General d Affty, his aids-de-camp, and his whole family, were mur 
 dered. 
 
 "The king, queen, and all the royal family, escaped to the national as 
 sembly; the factious ran thither, holding a sword in one hand, and fire in 
 the other, and forced the legislative body to supersede the king, which 
 was done for the sake of saving his life. 
 
 "Citizens, you are no longer represented; the national assembly is in 
 a state of slavery ; your armies are without leaders; Petion reigns; the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA PAYETTE. . 
 
 savage Dan ton and his satellites are masters. Thus, soldiers, it is your 
 province to examine whether you will restore the hereditary representatives 
 to the throne, or submit to the disgrace of having a Peton for your king. " 
 
 General Dillon, who commanded the northern army, 
 and who had been a member of the first assembly, 
 having assembled his troops, prevailed on them to take 
 the oath of fidelity to "the nation, the law, and the 
 king." Marshal Luckner hesitated, for a long time, but 
 finally declared for the assembly; and the other gener 
 als, Biron, Montesquieu, Kellerman, and Custine, sent 
 in their adhesion, and bowed to the new order of things, 
 and, together with their troops, took the republican 
 oaths. The effect of the appeal of La Fayette to his 
 troops, was, for a short time, uncertain ; the soldiers at 
 first apparently responded to his sentiments; but he 
 soon found that the contagion had spread among the 
 troops, and that their fidelity was no longer to be de 
 pended upon. The assembly, anticipating that La 
 Fayette would not recognise their authority, had des 
 patched three commissioners to arrest him, or secure the 
 army, by inducing the troops to desert. On their arri 
 val at Sedan, La Fayette ordered them to be arrested, 
 and held as hostages for the safety of the king and his 
 family; they were detained from the 14th to the 20th 
 inst. The situation of La Fayette became every day 
 more critical; the assembly passed a decree of accusa 
 tion against him, and finding that he had lost the confi 
 dence of the army, and that his troops were ready to 
 desert him, he deemed it prudent to seek an asylum in a 
 foreign land, and intended ultimately to go to America. 
 
 Thus terminated the revolutionary career of La Fay 
 ette in his own country ; very different from the termina 
 tion of his exertions in the glorious struggle for liberty 
 in America. Here, although a foreigner, he enjoyed 
 the confidence of the government and of the nation, and 
 the universal love and esteem of the people. There, 
 after all his services and sacrifices, and the unbounded 
 popularity he had enjoyed, he was proscribed, and a re 
 ward offered for his head by the government, and the 
 object of the suspicion, if not of the hatred, of the peo 
 ple. 
 
536 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 In the early stages of the revolution, his popularity 
 and influence were very great. He proposed the first 
 plan of a "declaration of rights, in the constituent as 
 sembly; he was first appointed commander of the Na 
 tional Guards of Paris, and after the recall of Necker, 
 he was unanimously chosen commander in chief of the 
 National Guards of the whole kingdom, which he, in a 
 great measure, organized, and instituted the tri-colour- 
 ed cockade. In this capacity he presided at the grand 
 national fete, on the 14th of July, as the generalissimo 
 of a greater body of troops then had ever perhaps been 
 under the immediate command of one man, since the 
 days of Xerxes. 
 
 In 1791, after the constitution was established, and 
 the new government organized, he resigned his com 
 mand and retired to his estate. He declined to receive 
 any thing for his services, or the sacrifices he had made. 
 On being pressed on this subject, by the assembly and 
 the municipality of Paris, he replied "My private for 
 tune secures me from want; it has outlasted two rev 
 olutions, and should it survive a third, through the 
 complacence of the people, it shall belong to them 
 alone." 
 
 When the coalition was formed against France, near 
 the close of the year 91, he was called from retirement 
 to take the command of the central army; he was at 
 that time major-general, but soon obtained the rank of 
 lieutenant-general, and marshal of France. 
 
 If La Fayette failed in his attempt to secure the lib 
 erties of his own country, and establish a free govern 
 ment, founded on the immutable basis of the sovereignty 
 of the people, the delegation of authority, the represen 
 tative principal, and the supremacy of constitutional 
 law, it is no impeachment of his patriotism or his ca 
 pacity. He did not fail alone; the many illustrious and 
 patriotic men, who were associated with him, failed 
 likewise. They succeeded, however, in accomplishing 
 the revolution as far as they proposed to carry it, but 
 the difficulty was in stopping it from going farther. In 
 this they failed ; and it is by no means probable that any 
 body of men, not even Washington and the American 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 537 
 
 Continental Congress, could have been more success 
 ful. The circumstances of the times were unexampled, 
 and events are not therefore, to be decided on, according 
 to ordinary principles. 
 
 The overthrow of the monarchy and the constitution, 
 on the 10th of August, and the execution of the king, 
 and all the violent proceedings which followed, are 
 more to be attributed to the infamous coalition formed 
 agaist France than any other cause. Had it not been 
 for this unholy interferance of the "holy alliance" of 
 that day, it is more than probable, that La Fayette and 
 his party would have succeeded in preserving the con 
 stitutional government, in saving the king from the guil 
 lotine, and the nation from all the horrors of anarchy 
 and cival war. La Fayette was sincerely and ardent 
 ly devoted to the constitution ; to popular and free insti 
 tutions, and to regulated liberty; he could admit of no 
 comprise of principle, or violation of constituted au 
 thority, and his personal integrity as well as political 
 principles required him to adhere in the mosts crupu- 
 lous mauner to the oath he had taken, of fidelity to the 
 constitution, the nation, and the king. And although 
 he did not succeed in preserving the constitution or pro 
 tecting the monarch, he did what was more important 
 to his own reputation; he maintained his integrity and 
 fidelity under the most trying circumstances, to the last. 
 It was this fidelity that occasioned his proscription; had 
 he yielded in some degree, to the times, and gone along 
 with the current of popular opinion, still endeavouring to 
 maintain what control and direction he could over it, he 
 might have saved himself from the storm which at that 
 time burst upon him, and possibly his country from the 
 dreadful evils which afterward befell it. This, how 
 ever, is extremely problematical; and at any rate, it 
 could not have been done, without compromising both his 
 personal integrity and political principles, and would 
 have destroyed that consistency of character for which 
 he now stands so conspicous. 
 
 That La Fayette and his party were correct in their 
 views and objects, the result has shown their opinions 
 of the jacobin leaders proved to be well founded* and 
 
MAKQ.UIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 liad the counsels of the party of which he was leader 
 prevailed, France would not only have been saved from 
 the anarchy which afterward afflicted her, but would 
 have preserved her liberty and all the blessings of free 
 institutions. Although from the peculiar and extraordi 
 nary circumstances under which he was required to act 
 he may in some instances have misjudged or committed 
 errors, yet now, no one, unless it be the minions of roy 
 alty and the creatures of the 4 holy alliance , can doubt 
 the rectitude of his intentions, the soundness of his prin 
 ciples, or that he was a sincere friend of liberty and his 
 country. 
 
 On the 20th of August, La Fayette,* with his three 
 friends, Generals Latour Maubourg, Alaxandre Lameth, 
 and Bureau de Puzy, the commandant of engineers, with 
 his aids-de-camp and a part of his staff, mounted on horse 
 back with an escort, started off, as if to reconnoitre, 
 which was supposed to be the object by all except the 
 three first, as they alone were in the secret. They pro 
 ceeded eight or ten miles, and dismounted at an inn, 
 and established sentinels to guard against a surprise 
 from the enemy s patroles. Here General La Fayette 
 communicated the intelligence from the capital that he 
 had been declared a traitor and an enemy of his coun 
 try, a decree of accusation passed against him, and a 
 price set upon his head. He concluded by saying, 
 that he had determined to quit his country for a time, 
 and that he should consider any man her enemy who 
 should propose to take up arms against her. Nothing 
 could equal the astonfshment and indignation of these 
 young officers; and notwithstanding the injunction, they 
 unanimously declared that the only way left to save 
 their country and their general, was to march direct to 
 
 *The account of La Eayelte s imprisonment and sufferings, and the par 
 ticulars of the attempts made to effect his escape, are taken from the re 
 cent work of General II. L. VIM,AUME DUCOUDKAY HOLSTUW, who, un 
 der the fictitious name of Peter Feldmann, assisted in the liberation of La 
 Fftyette from the prisons of Olmutz. The accuracy of General Holsteiu s 
 account of the attempts made to effect the escape of General La Fayette 
 has been questioned, and differs in many respects from former accounts. 
 But as he possessed them cans of information, it would be strange that he 
 should attach his name to a publication professing the fidelity of history^ 
 which bad more the character of romance. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. .039 
 
 Paris, and disperse and put down the Jacobin faction. 
 This their patriotic and persecuted gen-era! positively 
 declined. \ hey then insisted on emigrating with him; 
 but he represented to them the danger of this, to them 
 selves and families, and entreated them to return to the 
 camp. He finally consented that the two brothers, 
 Latour and Louis Maubourg, Bureau de Puzy, Alexan 
 der Lameth, Auguste Masson, Rene Pillet, and Cadig- 
 nan might accompany him. The rest of the officers, 
 with the escort of 150 cavalry, returned to the camp. 
 The cavalry at first, however, refused to return, and in 
 sisted on accompanying their general. Here it is worthy 
 of remark, that La Fayette, persecuted and proscribed 
 as he was by an ungrateful country, did not attempt to 
 procure the desertion of a single regiment; he would not 
 even permit the escort that had accompanied him, to 
 share his fortunes, which they were desirous to do, but 
 insisted on their returning. The situation of La Fay 
 ette at this time, and the dreadful reflections which 
 agitated his mind, if they can be conceiv&d, cannot be 
 described. His own dnnger, and that of his family and 
 his estate; the distracted condition of his ungrateful 
 country, torn to pieces by factions, under the misrule af 
 anarchists, and on the point of being invaded by a for 
 midable army drawn from half of Europe, rushed on his 
 mind and filled it with the most disagreeable reflections. 
 About eleven o clock at night, the seven fugitives ar 
 rived in the neighbourhood of the Austrians advance 
 guard, and were arrested, and after being detained some 
 time, sent under a strong escort to the Austrian head 
 quarters, and at length to Luxemburg. Here they were 
 recognised by a crowd of refugees, who regarding La 
 Fayette as one of the first promoters of the revolution, 
 treated him and his companions with the greatest inso 
 lence and contempt. Being placed in rigorous confine 
 ment, they wrote to the Duke of Saxe Teschenfor pass 
 ports, which was answered by a savage threat of a pub 
 lic execution. The governor of Luxemburg having receiv 
 ed orders to deliver his prisoners into the hands of the 
 king of Prussia, they were transported in a common cart 
 like criminals, guarded by a strong eseor*. to Wesel. 
 
 U3 
 
340 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 During the nights \vhen it was necessary to stop, they 
 were confined in the common jails of the country. At 
 W.esel, after being insulted by the populace and treated 
 like brutes, they were put in irons, and confined in sep 
 arate cells in the castle, being denied all intercourse 
 with each other. They were daily told that "the king 
 intended to have them hanged for wretches who deserv 
 ed no favour." 
 
 From the severity of his treatment, and his excessive 
 apprehensions on account of his wife and children, La 
 Fayette fell sick ; and whilst recovering, but yet in a lan 
 guishing state, the king had the baseness to offer him 
 his liberty on condition that he would betray his coun 
 try; and the decided refusal he received, was followed 
 by a more rigorous confinement and harsher treatment, 
 and all information as to their families was denied them. 
 From this place they were transported in a cart like 
 convicts to Magdeburg; it was expected that this treat 
 ment would excite public scorn and detestation; but 
 their tyrants were mistaken, for a lively sympathy and 
 interest was every where manifested in their behalf. 
 Here they were confined one year in a damp and sub 
 terraneous dungeon; but were permitted to remain to 
 gether. From Magdeburg, with the exception of Alex 
 ander Lameth, they were all conveyed to Silesia, and 
 were confined in an unhealthy and loathsome dungeon 
 at Neisse. 
 
 On making peace willi France, the king of Prussia, 
 fearing that he might be required to give up his prison 
 ers, had them conveyed to Austria, where they were 
 confined more than f/ur years at Olmutz, about one hun 
 dred and fifty miles north of Vienna, and near Silesia. 
 Here they were stripped of what little the Prussians 
 hnd left, and among the articles were two books whose 
 liberal sentiments did not accord with the despotic prin 
 ciples of the government, so that La Fayette inquired, 
 4 whether they were seized as contraband." They were 
 incarcerated in separate cells, and informed that ^they 
 would never again see the light of the sun or hear a hu 
 man voice; that their very names were to be annihila 
 ted, and that in future they would be designated in all 
 
MARQUIS DE LA PAYETTE. 54l 
 
 despatches of the government, by the number of their 
 respective cells. The prison walls were twelve feet 
 thick ; the cells were eight or ten paces deep, and six or 
 eight wide; the light was let in through an opening two 
 feet square, secured by massive iron bars transversely 
 placed ; before the loop-holes of the prison was a broad 
 ditch filled with stagnant water, which emitted a nox 
 ious effluvia, and beyond were the outer walls of the 
 castle, which prevented the slightest breeze from pass 
 ing to the grated windows of these miserable dungeons. 
 When it rained, the water found its way into the prison 
 through the loop-holes and off the walls, so that the 
 prisoners often waked in the morning wet to the skin, 
 A quantity of rotten straw formed their bed, which, 
 with a broken chair and an old worm-eaten table, con 
 stituted the furniture of each apartment. A dim lamp 
 glimmered in each cell at night, and very little light was 
 introduced during the day, even when the sun shined, but 
 when cloudy, which was very common in that wet coun 
 try, it was total darkness. Such was the situation for 
 years, of one of the most illustrious men of the age. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Sentiments which his unjust imprisonment produced Exertioni of Washington for bit 
 liberation in the House of CommonsAttempt of Bollman to effect his escape is 
 favuuredinhis efforts by Huger They succeed in effecting his escape Aic all arrest- 
 eel and confined in prison La Fayette is put in irons, and receives the most severe 
 treatment He is joined by his wife and two daughters, who share his imprisonment 
 they are discharged and return to Holstein they return to France His interview with 
 the First Consul Protests against hig appointment of consul for life, and writes him a 
 letter This ends the connexion between him and Napoleon. 
 
 THE imprisonment and suffering of La Fayette exci 
 ted the most lively interest with the friends of liberty 
 and humanity throughout Europe and America; here, 
 particularly, the deepest sympathy was manifested in 
 his behalf. As was natural to have been supposed, no 
 one was more sensibly affected at the misfortunes of La 
 Fayette than his friend Washington, at this time presi 
 dent of the United States. From the hostility both of 
 the government of France and the coalesced sovereigns 
 to La Fayette, it was a delicate matter for Washington 
 to interfere officially HI his behalf, and at the same 
 
.MARQUIS 1)E LA FAYETTE. 
 
 very evident that this course was not the most likely to 
 be successful ; and on the other hand, it might have ex 
 posed him to severer treatment. Washington, however, 
 was not unmindful of the situation of his personal friend, 
 and the friend of America; lie instructed our minister at 
 St. James s, and those at the other foreign courts, to in 
 terest themselves in his behalf, and to make known the 
 interest felt by the government of the United States in 
 his fate. He also sent a messenger to Berlin, to solicit 
 his release, but he did not arrive until La Fayette had 
 been delivered over to the Austrian government. All 
 his efforts having failed, Washington addressed the sub 
 joined unofficial letter, containing the most noble senti 
 ments, directly to the emperor of Austria. 
 
 "It will readily occur to your majesty, that occasions may sometimes 
 exist, on which official considerations would constrain the chief of a na 
 tion to be silent and passive, in relation even to objects which affect his 
 sensibility, and claim his interposition as a man. Finding myself precise 
 ly in this situation at present, I take the liberty of writing this private 
 letter to your majesty, being persuaded that my motives will also be my 
 pology for it. 
 
 ;> In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong and cor 
 dial sense of the services rendered to them by the Marquis de La Fayette; 
 and my friendship or him has been constant and sincere. It is natural, 
 therefore, that I should sympathize with him and his family in their mis 
 fortunes; and endeavour 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 sub 
 mit to your majesty s consideration, whether his long imprisonment and 
 the confiscation of his estate, and the indigence and dispersion 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 humanity? Allow me, Sir, on this occasion to be its organ; and to en 
 treat 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 re 
 quest appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magna 
 nimity and wisdom, which form the basis of sound policy and durable 
 glory. 
 
 This appeal to the magnanimity and humanity of the 
 emperor was in vain; these sentiments are not often 
 found in the bosoms of kings, and where they do exist, 
 they are suppressed by "reasons of state." 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETm 543 
 
 The subject of the cruel imprisonment of La Fayette, 
 equally in violation of the laws of nations and the dic 
 tates of humanity, was brought before the house of com 
 mons in Great Britain. General Fitzpatrick, on th 16th 
 December, 1796, moved for an address to his majesty^ 
 stating that the detention of La Fayette and others, by 
 order of the king of Prussia and emperor of Austria, 
 was dishonourable to the cause of the allies, and praying 
 him to interfere for their release. The motion called 
 forth a most animated and spirited debate; it was ably 
 and eloquently supported by the mover, Mr. Fox; and 
 other members of the opposition; and was opposed by 
 the chancellor of the exchequer, and other ministerial 
 members. The motion afforded a striking illustration 
 of the inconsistency of conduct or waywardness of for 
 tune in two individuals. Among the supporters of the 
 motion was Colonel Tarleton, then a member of parlia 
 ment, and who had been opposed to La Fayette in 
 America, in the camaign of 1781, and at that time so 
 obnoxious to all the friends of liberty in the United 
 States, and the friends of La Fayette. He displayed 
 much zeal in supporting the motion in favour of his for 
 mer military opponent, and did great justice to his char 
 acter and merits. While Tarleton, who had been so 
 active in supporting the oppressive plans of the British 
 government for enslaving America, was advocating the 
 cause of La Fayette, who was a champion in her strug 
 gle for liberty. Edmund Burke, who during the American 
 war, vVas the fearless advocate of the rights and liberty 
 of the Americans, was now the most violent opposer of 
 this early and steadfast friend of America and of liber* 
 ty. He was very severe in his remarks, and charged La 
 Fayette with being the first mover and author of all the 
 evils which had afflicted France, and of the general war 
 in Europe. 
 
 In Germany also, the liberal and enlightened, the 
 friends of justice, liberty, and humanity, manifested great 
 admiration of the patriot and hero of two revolutions, 
 in both of which he had been the champion of liberty 
 and of the rights of mankind, and an honourable sym 
 pathy for his cruel sufferings. Many of the public journafs 
 
544 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETlfr, 
 
 had sufficient independence to openly advocate his 
 cause, and to condemn the conduct of his persecutors. 
 Among his greatest admirers was Henry Bollman, a 
 young physician of Gottingen, who was so affected by 
 the barbarous treatment which he experienced, that he 
 determined to attempt his liberation at the hazard of his 
 own life. In the beginning of the year 1794, he sold 
 his library to raise funds for his journey, and set out on 
 foot for Hamburg. Here he became acquainted with 
 Mr. Sievsking, a most liberal and benevolent man, and a 
 great admirer of LaFayette; he undertook to assist 
 Bollman in his enterprise, and gave him a letter of in 
 troduction, and also a letter of credit for 10,000 florins 
 on Hirsch, a banker at Olmutz. 
 
 Bollman, having by his conduct excited suspicions 
 among the police, he was advised by Hirsch to leave 
 Olmutz, and go to Vienna for the present. Here he 
 became acquainted with Francis Huger, an American, 
 son of Colonel Huger of Charleston, South Carolina, 
 who was the first man that received La Fayette on his 
 arrival in the United States, in 1777. Young Huger 
 was active, generous, and brave; and the admiration 
 which every American feels for La Fayette, in him was 
 increased from the circumstance of his being the person 
 al friend of his father. These circumstances induced 
 Bollman to confide his intentions to Huger, and to soli 
 cit his assistance. The proposition was assented to with 
 enthusiasm by the young American, who declared that 
 his purse and his blood should be devoted to so hon 
 ourable and meritorious an enterprise. They left Vien 
 na with a faithful servant, all on horseback, and tra 
 versed the surrounding country, under the pretence that 
 Huger, being unwell, was travelling for his health with 
 his physician. They examined the roads in various di 
 rections, and particularly the great road leading from 
 Olmutz to Trappau. 
 
 The illustrious prisoner was^ guarded with the great 
 est possible strictness how then could they communi 
 cate with him? This was a difficult point; but by 
 means of the banker and one thousand florins, they en 
 gaged in their interest the head surgeon qf the garrison, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 through whose assistance they opened a communication 
 with La Fayette. The surgeon asked permission to 
 make a medical visit to the prisoners, and in that way 
 conveyed to La Fayette a note, which informed him that 
 several of his friends had arrived with the intention of 
 effecting his escape, and advising him to feign indispo 
 sition, and to request to the jailer that he might have the 
 assistance of a medical gentleman. This note was the 
 first La Fayette had received since he had been at Ol- 
 mutz, and was read with great eagerness; he wrote an 
 answer on the back with his blood, and returned it 
 through the hand of the doctor. 
 
 After the feigned sickness of La Fayette had continu 
 ed for some time, his physician represented to the gov- 
 crner of Olmutz, that it was necessary to his recovery, 
 that he should ride without the walls of the place, in 
 an open carriage, to take the fresh air. This advice 
 was reduced to writing, and the reasons for it assigned; 
 and the intendant made a cerificate in confirmation of 
 this statement. These documents being sent to Vienna, 
 the desired permission was obtained, accompanied with 
 the injunction that the governor should always accom 
 pany the prisoner in person, and a strong guard to pre 
 vent his escape. For several weeks La Fayette daily 
 rode out with the governor, and by his prepossessing 
 manners succeeded in attaching the governor very much 
 to him. 
 
 The plan being matured and the arrangements com 
 pleted, the 27th of October was fixed on, as the day 
 for carrying into execution their bold enterprise. Boll- 
 man and Huger mounted their horses at the hour the 
 governor and his prisoner were to take their accustom 
 ed ride, and not either of them being known to La Fay 
 ette, as the carriage passed them, whilst riding very 
 slow, they took out a white handkerchief, which was a 
 signal agreed upon, and La Fayette did the same. 
 When the carriage had arrived at the place designated, 
 the general made some pretence for advancing some 
 distance beyond the governor; at the same moment, 
 Bollman and Huger spurred their horses forward, and 
 as they came up with La Fayette, Huger sprang off to 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 assist him to mount behind Bollman; but before this 
 was effected, the governor, notwithstanding his age and 
 infirmities, came up and seized the general by the arm 
 as he was mounting, and one of the guards approached 
 and seized him behind. Huger seizing the guard by the 
 hair, threw him on the ground, and told La Fayette to 
 make his escape with Bollman. But before he could do 
 this, he had a severe struggle with the guard and the old 
 governor; in attempting to thrust his handkerchief into 
 the mouth of the former to stifle his cries for help, the 
 general had two fingers severely bit, and in extricating 
 them, the skin and flesh was torn away and left in the 
 mouth of the guard. In the scuffle which ensued, Hu- 
 ger s horse took fright and fled into the fields. The gen 
 eral having cleared himself, was coming to the assis 
 tance of Huger, but was entreated by the latter, to mount 
 instantly behind Bollman and fly, and that he would 
 take care of himself. The general having mounted, Boll 
 man rode off at full speed. Huger made his escape in 
 to a thicket, but was soon pursued and taken by a peas 
 ant, being much exhausted; his hands were tied and he 
 was taken back to town, where he was immediately put 
 in irons and thrown into prison. 
 
 Bollman and the general had not gone three miles be 
 fore they heard the report of the alarm-guns of the for 
 tress. The police in Austria is so strict, that when a 
 prisoner escapes, or a soldier deserts, three alarm-guns 
 are fired, which is the signal for the mayors and munici 
 pal officers of the neighbouring towns, as far as the report 
 is heard, to close the town gates, and cause the alarm- 
 bells to be rung, which are heard from one village to 
 another, by which means the alarm is spread to the dis 
 tance of fifty or sixty miles. The cavalry is despatched 
 hi pursuit, and all the inhabitants, who are organized 
 into a kind of militia, are obliged on heavy penalties to 
 meet at appointed places, where they receive arms and 
 instructions. By these means, the alarm, and intelli 
 gence of the escape of a prisoner, had been spread to a 
 great distance. Noth withstanding these measures, La 
 Fayette and Bollman proceeded safely eleven miles: 
 here Bollman was at a loss which road, to take; after 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 54? 
 
 some hesitation he took the wrong one, which was une 
 ven and rough ; the horse being fatigued stumbled and 
 threw both of them off, several times, at one of which 
 La Fayette received a severe contusion; it was extreme 
 ly dark, and they had advanced about three miles on 
 the road they were travelling, when Bollman being sat 
 isfied they were wrong, they concluded to return; at this 
 time a patrolling party came up, and took them into 
 custody, without however knowing who they were. They 
 were confined in a barn, with a guard that night, and 
 the next mornkig were taken before the mayor of Braun- 
 Seifer. Perceiving that there was tie other resource, 
 Bollman informed the mayor that his companion was tbe 
 great and good La Fayette, whom he had assisted to es 
 cape, and entreated him to save the general, offering him 
 all the gold he had about him, besides bills of exchange 
 to the amount of 20,000 florins, and telling him, that La 
 Fayette would promise him one hundred thousand more, 
 if he desired them: and added, that he had brought La 
 Fayette into that situation, and ought to be responsible 
 for its consequences, and that he would remain a prison 
 er. Mr. Richter, the mayor, was a benevolent man, and 
 had great veneration for La Fayette, but dared not as 
 sume the responsibility of permitting hi IB to escape. 
 Soon the aid-de-camp of the governor arrived, with or 
 ders for the prisoners to be conducted back to Olinutz, 
 and both were thrown into prison. 
 
 La Fayette was put in irons, and subjected to the mos,t 
 rigorous confinement, the most severe suffering. No light 
 was admitted into his cell, shackles were placed on his 
 feet, and an iron round his waist, to which a chain was 
 fastened a nd secured to the wall, with sufficient length 
 barely to permit him to turn from one side to the other; 
 his bed consisted of a little damp and mouldy straw. He 
 had suffered severely from fatigue and the bruises he 
 iiad received in attempting to escape, which, with the 
 unspeakable anxiety and anguish he felt on finding him 
 self again in the hands of his tormentors, brought on a 
 violent fever. The winter was severe, hut his jailors did 
 Hot relax the severity of his treatment, but increased his 
 sufferings as his constitution seemed to sink under them* 
 
 W3 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 so that it appeared as if it was their object to put an end 
 to the existence cf their victim. He was emaciated al 
 most to a skeleton, and the hair fell from his head. His 
 mind was, at the same time, filled with anxiety, and the 
 deepest concern for the fate of his wife and children, of 
 whom he had obtained no other information but that 
 thev had been confined in the prisons of Paris. To fill 
 the measure of his afflictions, his inhuman jailers inform 
 ed him that his generous friends, Bollman and Huger, 
 were soon to be brought to a public execution, and ex 
 piate their enormous crime on the scaffold. In this state 
 of rigorous confinement and suffering he remained for 
 several months, when, from the influence of his friends,, 
 the Jewish banker and the chief surgeon, who had not 
 been suspected of aiding in his escape, his irons were ta 
 ken off, and he was permitted to walk before the front 
 of the prison, attended by a strong guard, but no one 
 was allowed to speak to him. 
 
 Boliman and Huger suffered a cruel imprisonment for 
 their patriotic attempt to rescue La Fayette, in the 
 same building with him; but each were confined in a 
 separate cell, and they were not permitted to have any 
 communication with each other: they however devised 
 and practised several ingenious modes of communica 
 ting with each other, which afforded them much satis 
 faction, and escaped the scrutiny of their jailers. At 
 length BoHmaoand Huger were brought to trial, and 
 were first sentenced to imprisonment for life; which was 
 commuted to a term of years, and finally they were of 
 fered their liberty on the payment of a large sum of 
 money to the government, which, by the help of friends, 
 they raised, and were accordingly released. 
 
 The fate of Madame La Fayette does not less demand 
 our sympathies, or even admiration, than that of her 
 illustrious husband. On the flight of La Fayette, she 
 and her two daughters, one fifteen and the other twelve, 
 were seized and cast into prison at Paris. The family 
 estate was confiscated, and most of the political and 
 personal friends of her husband were crushed by the 
 Mountain,* and fell under the stroke of the guillotine. 
 
 *The violent party was called the Mountain Party. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 549 
 
 For twenty months, she and her daughters suffered this 
 degrading imprisonment; during a reign of anarchy and 
 terror, daily hearing of the death of her friends, anx 
 ious about her own fate, and still more about her hus 
 band s. She bore her severe and complicated distress-es, 
 with great firmness and fortitude; reposing, when all 
 earthly succour seemed to have failed, on Divine Prov 
 idence, she was often found in a retired part of her pris 
 on, with uplifted hands and holy supplications to that 
 Being who holds in his hands the destinies of man. 
 When she was liberated, from the feeble state of her 
 health, she was advised by her physicians to seek re*- 
 pose in some retired part of the country; but in opposi 
 tion to this advice, and the entreaties of her friends, she 
 resolved to repair to Olinutz, and if she could not pro 
 cure the liberation of her husband, to share in his im 
 prisonment. She went first to Vienna, and through the 
 influence and assistance of two noble females, obtained 
 an audience with the Emperor. His majesty received 
 her graciously, and expressed a personal desire that her 
 husband should be set at liberty ; but said the subject 
 was too complicated for him to interfere with it, and that 
 he could not do it, consistent with his political engage 
 ments with other powers. He was graciously pleased, 
 however, to permit her to visit her husband, and share 
 in his captivity. This, with her two daughters, she im 
 mediately did, whose presence spread a ray of light in 
 the gloom of the dungeon, and rendered the most cruel 
 imprisonment tolerable. It is impossible even to conceive 
 of the joy which La Fayette experienced on receiving 
 his beloved wife and daughters, or the consolation which 
 she administered to him in his affliction. Of women it 
 is truly said 
 
 "When pain and sicknes.s cloud the brow 
 A ministering angel thou!" 
 
 And of po one could this be more true than of Madame 
 La Fayette, who was one of the best and most sensible 
 of women. For nearly two years she and her two 
 daughters remained in prison. Atone time, her health 
 being much impaired, she asked permission to visit Vi 
 enna for a week: and was informed that her request 
 
550 WAKQU13 DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 would be granted, provided she would consent never tf> 
 enter the prison again, and to have hep daughters con 
 fined in a separate apartment from their father. The 
 base offer was declined with becoming spirit, in a letter 
 which concludes with the following dignified language: 
 "Whatever may be the state of my own health, and the 
 inconvenience attending the stay of my daughters in this 
 place, we will most gratefully take advantage of the 
 goodness his imperial majesty has expressed towards 
 us, by permission to share in the miseries of this captivity* 
 
 La Fayette, his wife, and daughters, and his two 
 friends, were all discharged on the 25th of August, 1797, 
 for which they were indebted to General Bonaparte. 
 The victorious general peremptorily insisted on the lib 
 eration of the prisoners of Olmutz,asa preliminary con 
 dition to peace. He inquired if the prisoners at Olmutz 
 were free, and as the ambassadors hesitated in a reply, 
 he observed, with great warmth, "Gentlemen, you may 
 take my word for it, that if these prisoners are not in 
 stantly set free, I sign no treaty of peace with his impe 
 rial majesty." He was obliged, however, to despatch 
 one of his aids to Vienna to demand of the emperor 
 himself the liberation of his prisoners, which was ac 
 companied with a threat, that if it was not immediately 
 done, he would march to the capital and throw open the 
 prison doors himself. Such was the reluctance of the 
 ejnperor to give up his victims; but he was obliged to 
 yield to the conqueror: the prisoners were discharged, 
 and soon after, the celebrated treaty of Campo Formio 
 was concluded. 
 
 The emperor prescribed several conditions to the lib 
 eration of La Fayette, one of which was, that he should 
 leave Europe immediately for America; and another 
 that he should never set his foot on the Austrian territo 
 ry without special permission, as his principles were dan 
 gerous to the Austrian government. The general replied, 
 that although it was his wish and intention to go to 
 . America, yet he could not consent to such a condition, 
 as that would be recognising the right of his majesty to 
 impose it; and as to his never entering the Austrian do- 
 mijuons, he owed certain obligations, both to France and 
 
iMARQUlS DE LA FAYETTE 551 
 
 America, of which he could not divest himself, and he 
 should enter into no engagements which might interfere 
 with the rights of his native or adopted country to his 
 personal services. With these exceptions, he would 
 assure his majesty that it was his determination never 
 again to set his foot on the territory of the emperor. 
 
 La Fayette, with his family and his two friends, who 
 had been his fellow-sufferers, after being liberated, pro 
 ceeded to the neutral city of Hamburg, where they were 
 received and treated with great attention by a number 
 of distinguished Americans and the French minister, 
 who gave them a public entertainment. Here they put 
 on the tri-coloured cockade, to show that they were not 
 emigrants, but friends to their country and the princi 
 ples of 89. After a few days stay they accepted the in 
 vitation of a Hanoverian nobleman, and spent some 
 time at his chateau in Holstein. Previous to this, they 
 were joined by George Washington La Fayette, who 
 had arrived from America, where he had spent consid 
 erable time at Mount Vernon. This rendered the fam 
 ily complete, and consummated their happiness. At the 
 mansion of his noble friend, the general s eldest daugh 
 ter, Anastatia, was married to Latour Maubourg, broth 
 er of the prisoner of that rrame, who had been one of La 
 Fayette s aids-de-camp. The celebration was in a plain 
 and simple style, which best accorded with the truly re 
 publican ideas of La Fayette. 
 
 George Washington La Fayette, in 1795, went to the 
 United States. He landed at Boston, and immediately 
 wrote to Washington, then president, acquainting him 
 with his situation, and requesting his advice, as the 
 friend of his father. General La Fayette then being 
 proscribed by the government of France, as an unfriend 
 ly disposition had already been manifested by the direc 
 tory towards the United States, the president felt con 
 strained to decline interfering officially in behalf of the 
 son of the illustrious friend of America. He however 
 wrote a private letter to the Honourable George Cabot^ 
 requesting him to acquaint young La Fayette with the 
 reasons why he could not offically interfere in his behalf, 
 and at the same time to assure him that he might con- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 sider him as a father, and rely on his protection and as 
 sistance. He also advised to have him enter the uni 
 versity at Cambridge, and told Mr. C. that he would see 
 the expenses paid. But young Fayeite did not avail 
 himself of this offer, as the private tutor, who had ac 
 companied him, wished to have him under his sole in 
 struction. 
 
 General La Fayette and his family, including his son- 
 in-law, went from thfl house of his Hanoverian friend to 
 the chateau of the Count de Tesse, one of the French 
 emigrants, and who had married the sister of Madame 
 La Fayette s mother. Being unable to return to his 
 country, he remained in this retreat, in the mansion of 
 his uncle, for a considerable time, and amused himself 
 with studying the agriculture of the country, particular 
 ly the raisingof merino sheep, in which the inhabitants 
 of Holstein excel, and to which afterward he very suc 
 cessfully turned his attention at La Grange. 
 
 In this situation, La Fayette remained, happy in the 
 enjoyment of his family and friends, until the revolution 
 of the 18th of Brumaire, (Nov. 10, 1790,) which estab 
 lished the consular constitution, and placed Napoleon 
 Bonaparte at the head of the government. Among the 
 first acts of the new government, was a proclamation, 
 inviting all emigrants, and other French citizens, to re 
 turn, and assuring them of protection. La Fayette and 
 his family immediately returned to France, after an 
 absence of nearly eight years, and with his son-in-law 
 Maubourg 7 soon after visited Paris. 
 
 The First Consul, to give splendour and support to 
 the new government, intended to draw around him all 
 who had been distinguished in the field or in the cabin 
 et, during the revolution, and among the rest General La 
 Fayette was invited to the Thuilleries. La Fayette 
 admired the youthful genius of Bonaparte, and the as 
 tonishing victories he had achieved, which had saved 
 France, and cast a lustre on the French name; he also 
 felt gfateful to him for the services rendered to himself. 
 An interview took place between the&e two distinguish 
 ed characters, which convinced Bonaparte that the 
 patriot of two revolutions was too inflexible in his prin- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. ,)ir.< 
 
 tuples to become an instrument of his ambition. He did 
 not, however, immediately relinquish his design of avail 
 ing himself of the influence of the name and reputation 
 of La Fayette, by inducing him to take a part in the 
 new government. He retained him in the office of gen 
 eral of division, and offered him a seat in his conserva 
 tive senate. In this office, there was a salary of 7000 
 dollars, which would have been very acceptable to La 
 Fayette, as his income was now reduced to about two 
 thousand dollars, which had been thirty thousand at the 
 commencement of the revolution. But being satisfied 
 that it was the intention of the First Consul to establish 
 a military government, of which he was to be the chief, 
 and that the conservative senate, and the constitution 
 itself, were only empty forms, intended to give more se 
 curity and stability to the power of Bonaparte, La Fay 
 ette did not hesitate to decline the offer, although stren 
 uously urged to accept of it by his friends. With this 
 office would have been connected that of count of the 
 empire. He preferred to remain in retirement, and 
 forego the advantages of so honourable and lucrative a 
 station, to any compromise with principle, or placing 
 himself in- a situation which might cast a suspicion on 
 his political integrity, or occasion even a doubt as to the 
 sincerity of his devotion to liberal principles and free 
 institutions. Such aoble and disinterested sentiments; 
 such political consistency, firmness, and integrity, if not 
 wholly unparalleled, was without any example, on that 
 occasion except the case of the celebrated Carnot. 
 
 The First Consul did not, however, entirely abandon 
 the idea of obtaining the approbation, if not the support 
 of La Fayette; and previously to his election as consul 
 fer life, he invited him to the Thuilleries, and a remark 
 able interview took place between them. Napoleon or 
 dered every one to retire, and commencing a conversa 
 tion on the subject, attempted to show that a permanent 
 magistracy was necessary for the security and happiness 
 of France. General La Fayette boldly replied, that 
 "before venturing on such a step, France expects of you 
 a guarantee of her liberties; when they are satisfied on 
 this score, they will comply with your wishes unasked/* 
 
.354 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 In conformity to the sentiments disclosed on this occa 
 sion, his vote was expressed in the following words: 
 * J cannot vote for such a magistracy, until the liberties 
 of the people are secured; in tiiat case, I vote for Na 
 poleon Bonaparte." In further explanation of his views 
 and motives, he addressed to the First Consul the fol 
 lowing noble and independent sentiments: 
 
 "GENERAL, 
 
 "When a man, who is deeply impressed with a sense of the gratitude 
 he owes you, and who is too ardent a lover of glory to be wholly indiffer 
 ent to yours, connects his suffrage with conditional restrictions, those res- 
 frictions not only secure him from suspicion, but prove amply, that no one 
 will, more gladly than himself, behold in you the chief magistrate, for life, 
 of a free and independent republic. 
 
 "The eighteenth of Brumal re saved France from destruction and I felt 
 myself reassured and recalled by the liberal declarations to which you have 
 connected the sanction of your honour. In your consular authority, there 
 was afterward discerned that salutary dictatorial prerogative, which, under 
 the auspices of a genius like yours, accomplished such glorious purposes; 
 yet, less glorious, let me add, than the restoration of liberty would prove. 
 
 "It is not possible, General, that you, the first amidst that order of 
 mankind, which surveys every age and every country, before the stations 
 of its members in the scale can be determined, that you can desire that a 
 revolution, marked by an unexampled series of stupendous victories and 
 unheard-of sufferings, shall give nothing to the world but a renovated sys 
 tem of arbitrary government. The people of this country have been ac 
 quainted with their rights too long, to forget them for ever: but perhaps 
 they may recover and enjoy them better now, than during the period of 
 revolutionary effervescence. And you, by the strength of your character, 
 and the influence of public confidence, by the superiority of your talents, 
 your power, and your fortunes, in re-establishing the liberties of France, 
 can allay all agitations, calm all anxieties, and subdue all dangers. 
 
 "When I wish, then, to see the career of yeur glory crowned by the hon 
 ours of perpetual magistracy, I but act in correspondence with my own 
 private sentiments, and am influenced exclusively by patriotic considera 
 tions. But all my political and moral obligations, the principles that have 
 governed every action of my life, call on .me to pause, before I bestow on 
 you my suffrage, until I feel assured that your authority shall be erected 
 <m a basis worthy of the nation and yourself. 
 
 "I confidently trust, General, that you will recognise here, as you have 
 done on all other occasions, a steady continuance of my political opinions, 
 combined witli the sincerest prayers for your welfare, and the deepest 
 pense of all my obligations to you." 
 
 This letter, which was not answered, closed all inter 
 course between Bonaparte and General La Fayette; 
 rtrrd thev did not see each other until after the wonder- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 555 
 
 Jul restoration of the emperor, in June, 1815. These 
 two distinguished individuals were not kindred spirits, 
 or in any degree assimilated in their characters; and 
 their objects were entirely different. One, influenced by 
 an unbounded ambition, aimed at unlimited power, not 
 so much for his own aggrandizement as for the execution 
 of great and magnificent plans ; he wished to concentrate 
 every thing in himself, and to be the source and fountain 
 of power, the arbiter of the destinies of France, and to 
 hold in his own hands the guarantees of the rights and 
 the liberties of the people. The other possessed a more 
 exalted, rational, and philosophic ambition. He aspired 
 only at the honourable fame and distinction of render 
 ing the most important services to the human race, and 
 from the most disinterested motives; he wished to be 
 the first of patriots, and the first of heroes in defence of 
 the rights and liberties of the people. One aimed at 
 sovereignty in his own person, the other wished to estab 
 lish the sovereignty of the people. Their principles and 
 views were directly opposite, although both were oppo 
 sed to the reign of anarchy and violence, and were for 
 giving vigour and energy to the laws on which the se 
 curity of personal liberty and private property depends. 
 
 After the event which we have noticed, Bonaparte 
 manifested decided hostility to La Fayette, and, on all 
 occasions, treated him with the most studied neglect. 
 But it was in vain that he attempted to impair the re 
 spect or less-en the consequence of the veteran patriot 
 of two revolutions; the constant, undeviating, and incor 
 ruptible friend of liberty. Not the eclat of splendid 
 victories, the glory of conquest, or all ihe gorgeous pa 
 geantry of the imperial court, could cast into the shade 
 the illustrious name of La Fayette, although a private 
 citizen, and living in retirement. 
 
 The hostility of Napoleon was not confined to the gen 
 eral, but extended to all who bore the name (the most 
 illustrious in France) of La Fayette ; to all who were 
 connected with the family, and even the particular 
 friends of the Marquis. Perhaps there is nothing more 
 dishonourable, in the character of Bonaparte, than his 
 treatment of the La Fayette family. George Washing- 
 
 X3 
 
556 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTL. 
 
 ton La Fayette, the only son of the general, was a brave 
 and excellent officer; he was general of division; Gene 
 ral Grouchy appointed him his aid; he was distinguish 
 ed on many occasions, and particularly at the battle of 
 Eylaii, where he saved the life of Grouchy twice, his 
 horse being killed under him. His general made a very 
 favourable report of his conduct, and recommended him 
 very warmly for promotion; yet the emperor, instead of 
 promoting him, struck his name out of the official bul 
 letin. But notwithstanding the unworthy treatment he 
 received, he continued in the service, from the com 
 mencement of the consular government, in 1800, until 
 after the peace of Tilsit. It was attempted at one time, 
 to persuade him to resign, but he nobly replied "that so 
 long as his country was involved in war, he should con 
 sider himself disgraced by a resignation and that he 
 should be ashamed even to think of it, while all his com 
 panions were daily exposing themselves to dangers of 
 every sort. It was true he was an American citizen, 
 but he was first of all a Frenchman, and a loyal French 
 man." 
 
 General La Fayette s son-in-law, De Lasteyrie, who 
 married his second daughter, Virginia, was also a meri 
 torious officer, and was treated with the same neglect 
 by Bonaparte; and this was likewise the case with tlte 
 two former aids of General La Fayette. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 He nemains in retirement at La Grange Situation of La Graflgr His family and desrfin 
 danU He employes himself in agricultural pursuits Loses his wife Napoleon, after 
 his return from Elba, attempts to obtain his influence He protests against the addi 
 tional act Is elected representative to the chamber His speech and resolutions after 
 the defeat of the emperor Is one of the committee who attend the grand council oV 
 ministers, and oneof the commissir.-iers to treat with the allies Capitulation of Paris- 
 He retires to La Grange Is elettett a rcpTceeutative after the testoration of the Bour 
 bpns. 
 
 AFTER the appointment of Napoleon consul for life, 
 from which time he manifested a strong dislike to La 
 Fayette, who had voted against his election, the latter 
 lived in retirement at his estate of La Grange, situated 
 in the province of Brie, forty miles from Paris, engaged 
 hi the pursuits of agriculture; a spectator of political 
 
MARQUIS- PE LA FAYETTE, 557 
 
 events, tranquil and happy, in the midst of his numerous 
 and interesting family. What vicissitudes in the life of 
 an individual! and how extraordinary, that one of the 
 most illustrious men of the age, in the prime of life, 
 should remain for years in retirement during the most 
 eventful period the world has ever witnessed, when Eu 
 rope was convulsed to its centre, and which embraced 
 two mighty revolutions, affecting the whole continent: 
 one the establishment of a new system of monarchy, 
 and a new order of things, by the Emperor Napoleon; 
 and the other, in the complete overthrow of that system, 
 and the re-establishment of the old regime and the 
 Bourbon dynasty ; and that individual, tire first and 
 principal promoter of, that political revolution, which, 
 in its progress, had led to these momentous events, and 
 a-t one time possessed of an unbounded popularity, and 
 commander in chief of the armies of France. He was 
 not, however, an unobservant spectator of passing 
 events, or indifferent to the welfare of his country; but, 
 whilst that country was na longer free, his principles 
 and his honour required of him to remain in retirement. 
 With him the post of honour was only to be found in a 
 private station. 
 
 "La Grange is situated in the fertile district of La 
 Brie, thiry- miles from Paris^ remote from any common 
 road, and far distant from a bustling world. In the 
 midst of a luxuriant wilderness, rising above prolific 
 orchards and antiquated woods, appears the five towers 
 of La Grange, tinged with the golden rays of the de 
 clining sun. The deep moat, the draw-bridge, the ivied 
 tower and arched portals, opening into a large square 
 court, has a feudal and picturesque character; and the 
 associations which occur, on entering the residence 
 of a man so heroic, so disinterested, so celebrated, fill 
 the mind with peculiar admiration, and excite the most 
 lively interest." The family party, partaking more of 
 patriarchal than of courtly manners, is composed of in 
 dividuals mutually attached, and anxious only for mutu 
 al improvement and happiness. It represents the 
 younger members, as employed in their studies or enga 
 ged in innocent recreations so salutary to the youtbfuj 
 
558 MARQUIS 1>E LA FAYETTE. 
 
 ^0 
 
 temper and constitution: and the older, as occupied \u 
 useful and literary pursuits, or devoted to the more enli 
 vening pleasures of conversation. 
 
 "The venerable head of this happy family, at the 
 age of sixty-seven is in the full possession of every 
 talent and faculty. His memory has all the tenacity of 
 youthful recollection. On his person, time has yet made 
 little visible impression. Not a wrinkle furrows the 
 ample brow; and his unbent and noble figure is still as 
 upright, bold, and vigorous, as the mind which informs 
 it. Grace, strength, and dignity still distinguish the fine 
 person of this extraordinary man; who, though more 
 than forty years before the world, engaged in scenes of 
 strange and eventful conflict, does not yet appear to have 
 reached his grand climacteric. Active on his farm, 
 graceful and elegant in his saloon, it is difficult to trace, 
 in one of the most successful agriculturists, and one of 
 the most perfect of fine gentlemen of France, a warrior, 
 and a legislator. But the patriot is always discerna- 
 ble. His conversation is enriched with anecdotes of all 
 that is celebrated in character or event, for the last fifty 
 years. His elegant and well-chosen collection of books, 
 occupies the highest apartments in one of the towers of 
 the chateau ; and like the study of Montaigne, hangs 
 over the farm-yard of the philosophical agriculturist. 
 It frequently happens, said M. La Fayette, to one of 
 his visiters, as they were looking from a window on 
 some flocks, which were moving beneath, that my me 
 rinos and my hay-carts dispute my attention to Hume or 
 Voltaire." 
 
 The practice in Europe, particularly with the landed 
 uobility and gentry, is very different from that which 
 prevails in the United States. Here the paternal home 
 becomes the home of one of a man s descendants only, 
 and the family estate is given to him, or divided among 
 several heirs: the members of the same family, and 
 descendants of the same ancestor, are scattered over 
 the country; one remains in the paternal mansion, one 
 goes to seek his fortune at the south, and becomes a 
 planter on the banks of the Mississippi; another emi 
 grates to the west, and settles on the borders of the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 559 
 
 Ohio or the Maumee ; and perhaps a fourth becomes a 
 successful merchant in some large seaport. But in Eu 
 rope the paternal chateau frequently becomes the home 
 of all the descendants of the owner, and his whole pos 
 terity, children, children-in-law, grand-children, and 
 great-grand-children, all reside under the same roof with 
 himself. He becomes the patriarch of a numerous race, 
 which form a community of themselves. This prac 
 tice is not favourable to enterprise, but there is some 
 thing very agreeable in it, and conducive to social happi 
 ness. 
 
 At La Grange are found all the descendants of La Fay- 
 ette, who is the venerable head and patriarch of the in 
 teresting groupe. He has three children: George 
 Washington La Fayette, who was married in 1803, and 
 has five children, Oscar, Edmund, Natalia, Matilda, and 
 Clementina ; the eldest daughter is twenty years of age, 
 and a favourite of her grand father. This, the only son 
 of the general, is now witii him in the United States. 
 His eldest daughter, Anastasie, as we have already men 
 tioned, was married to Charles Latour Maubourg, 
 brother of the companion of the general in his misfor 
 tunes, of that name: they have three daughters, Louise, 
 Jenny, and Mrs.Brigode, the latter of which is married, 
 and has two daughters, named Georgiannia and Gabri- 
 ella. Virginia La Fayette, his second daughter, mar- 
 iied M.de Lasteyrie, who served with his brother-in-law 
 George, in several campaigns, and was distinguished at 
 Jena, Eylau, and Freidland, Mrs. Lasteyrie has three 
 daughters and one son, Paulina, Melaire, Octavina, and 
 Jules. 
 
 All these descendants, to the third generation, reside 
 at the hospitable mansion of La Grange, and it is said 
 are principally dependent on the income of that estate 
 for support. 
 
 The spacious chateau has not only apartments for five 
 families, that of the father, son, two sons-in-law, and 
 grand-son-in-law ; but there is also an apartment for M. 
 de Maubourg, the companion and fellow-prisoner with 
 the general, and others for a brother and two sisters of 
 the same family. 
 
, r )60 MARQUIS BE LA FAYEtTK. 
 
 In this retired situation, these several families, the de 
 scendants of the illustrious patriot who is their patriar 
 chal chief, live in a quiet, agreeable, and simple manner; 
 contented ad happy in the enjoyment of each other, 
 neither caring for, nor disturbed by the turbulent pleas^ 
 ures of the world. Noisy dissipation, splendid equipage, 
 and corrupting luxury, are strangers at this favourite 
 abode of peace and innocence, and rural simplicity. 
 Business and amusements divide their attention, and af 
 ford sufficient occupation. 
 
 "Little rural balls are frequently given in the park, in 
 the midst of the honest farmers and peasants of the 
 neighbourhood, and plays are performed daily by both 
 old and young members of the family, in the open air. 
 
 "Early in the morning, every one is occupied in his 
 own apartment, where a servant brings him coffee, choc 
 olate, or tea; scarcely an individual makes his appear 
 ance in the saloon, till ten or eleven o clock. The ut 
 most quiet and silence reigns throughout the chateau 
 until this time. Then all the families meet together at 
 breakfast, and the delightful prattle of the children is 
 amusingly contrasted with the kind and constant atten 
 tion of their parents. Each mother is surrounded by 
 her little ones, the fathers assist in taking care of them, 
 and the grandfather presides over the whole. 
 
 "After breakfast each one retires till 5 o clock, wher> 
 dinner is brought up; the families again meet, converse, 
 laugh, sing, and dance, every one amusing himself ac 
 cording to his age and taste."* 
 
 In this felicitous retirement, the distinguished patriot 
 and poilanthropist, who is the subject of this memoir y 
 has lived surrounded by his numerous descendants, with 
 patriarchal simplicity and happiness, since 1800. He 
 has frequented no places of amusement, and had little 
 intercourse with the world, he has lived like an intelli 
 gent and independent agriculturist, and exhibiting the 
 bright exemple of a public man, content with a moder 
 ate income, free from all envious and angry feelings; 
 and willing to live in dignified silence when he had not 
 
 *Geo. Holstein s Memoirs of La Fayette, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 561 
 
 the power or influence to do good. He has spent his 
 time in the cultivation of his farm, in study, and answer 
 ing the letters of his numerous correspondents, and in 
 the enjoyment of the society of his family and many 
 friends, who visit La Grange. He has been a skilful and 
 scientific agriculturist, -and that agreeable employment 
 has afforded him much satisfaction, whilst it has been 
 the source of the support of his large family. His flocks 
 of merinos have afforded him both profit and pleasure, 
 and he has been very successful in breeding them, hav 
 ing made himself acquainted with the subject when re 
 siding in Holstein. "My dear friend," said he to one of 
 his visiters, "you cannot conceive how much pleasure I 
 enjoy in watching the yearly growth of this fine flock; 
 do you know that each fleece will give me twelve francs, 
 and that I get two shearings every year?" To an 
 other visiter he observed, "That his merinos and his hay- 
 carts often disputed his attention to Hume or Voltaire." 
 Most of the distinguished American and English travel 
 lers in France, visit La Grange. 
 
 In the year 1802, the celebrated Charles James Fox, 
 the distinguished British orator and statesman, and 
 General Fitzpatrick, also a distinguished member of 
 parliament, visited La Grange. As we have already sta 
 ted, these two distinguished men, exerted all their pow 
 erful eloquence in the house of commons, when La Fay- 
 tte was incarcerated in the prisons of Olmutz, to in 
 duce the British government to interfere for his liber 
 ation. Although their efforts were not successful, they 
 were not the less honourable to them, or the less calcu 
 lated to excite the gratitude of La Fayette. General 
 Fitzpatrick had known Fayette in America, and admi 
 red his character and principles. The union of these 
 three distinguished patriots and philanthropists, after 
 the momentous events they had witnessed, and in many 
 of which, acted a distinguished part, was highly grati 
 fying to themselves, and a pleasing sight to the friends 
 of liberty. "I have often," says the writer who gives 
 an account of this interview," contemplated with great 
 pleasure, Mr. Fox, General Fitzpatrick, and M. de La 
 Fayette, walking in the long shady grove near the cha- 
 
,j62 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 teau, speaking of past times, the war in America, and 
 the revolution in France. The rare sight of three such 
 characters, was grateful to any one who felt friendly to 
 the cause of civil liberty, and valued men for their 
 services to humanity, rather than for successful ambi 
 
 tion." 
 
 Among the numerous visiters to La Grange, was lady 
 Morgan, who, in her "France," gives a very interesting 
 account of her visit to this hospitable seat, which the 
 virtue and renown of its present owner will render cele 
 brated for ever: and of the numerous inmates of the 
 venerable chateau. 
 
 In 1807, General La Fayette was affected with a do 
 mestic calamity, which more sorely affected his heart 
 than the sufferings of six years imprisonment. The im 
 prisonment of Madame La Fayette at Paris, and her 
 voluntary confinement in the damp and unwholesome 
 dungeons of Olmutz, had underminded her constitution, 
 and she never enjoyed perfect health afterward; but her 
 fortitude, patience, equanimity, and sociableness of tem 
 per, were not impaired with her health, and enabled 
 her to contribute to the happiness of her husband and 
 family* In December, this virtuous and distinguished 
 womanf, fell a victim to the barbarous persecutions of 
 her husband, in which her affection and fidelity led her 
 to be a voluntary sharer. The same winter, General La 
 Fayette had the misfortune to fall and break his leg, 
 which confined him to his bed, and without being able 
 to change his position for nearly six months, during 
 which he suffered severe pain. This is the cause of his 
 present lameness. 
 
 The dreadful struggle in which France was engaged 
 with the combined forces of all the powers of Europe, 
 did not call the patriot of La Grange from his retreat: 
 it is not to be supposed, however, that he did not feel 
 great anxiety for the impending fate of his country; as 
 much as he disliked the disposition of Bonaparte, he 
 was evidently opposed to the restoration of the Bour 
 bons, as they intended to seize upon the crown as their 
 own right, by the aid of ooe million of foreign bayon 
 ets, and to re-establish the absolute power of the mon- 
 
DE LA FAYETtE. 563 
 
 urchy and the old regime, asfaral*t could be done, and 
 thus destroy all the fruits of the revolution. He visited 
 Louis but once in 1814, after his restoration, and al 
 though well received, he did not repeat the visit. Whilst 
 others, deeply stained with the crimes of the revolution, 
 and against the Bourbon family, offered their adhesion, 
 and changed as the political tune turned, he made no 
 compromise of principle, neither supplicated for favour, 
 nor even expressed his approbation of the re-establish 
 ment of the Bourbon throne. 
 
 That most marvellous event, in the history of nations, 
 the return of Napoleon from Elba, the re-establishment 
 of the imperial throne, and the threatened invasion of 
 France, with more than a million of men, did not call 
 him from his retirement The emperor, knowing his 
 influence with the friends of liberty, endeavoured to ob 
 tain his approbation; he sent his brother Joseph to invite 
 -General La Fayette to an interview with the emperor, 
 that he might judge for himself of the guarantees pro 
 posed to be offered to the French people. This invita 
 tion he declined. 
 
 Napoleon, on the 22d of April, with a view to con 
 ciliate the nation, issued his ^ctc Jldditianel, or addi 
 tional act, as he called it, being an addition to the consti 
 tutions of 1799, 1802, and 1804, which provided for the 
 establishment of a chamber of representatives to be 
 -elected by the elective colleges and an hereditary 
 chamber of peers. This act was accepted by the French 
 people, under the influence of existing circumstances; 
 but it was not satisfactory to La Fayette, who entered 
 his solemn protest against it, in the same spirit, and from 
 the same considerations that he did against the consul 
 ship for life. But the same college of electors to which 
 he presented his protest, notwithstanding, first chose 
 him their president, and then their representative. The 
 emperor too, anxious to secure his influence, or at least 
 his silerfce, placed his name first on the list of peers ; but 
 true to his principles, he declined this, and accepted of 
 the situation of representative. 
 
 General La Fayette and his son were both returned as 
 deputies to the chamber. The emperor used all his 
 
 Y3 
 
364 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 influence to procure^ne of the presidents of the depart 
 ments of state, to be chosen president of the chamber; 
 but the votes were divided between Lenjuinais and La 
 Fayette, and after several ballots, the former was chosen 
 president and the latter vice-president. 
 
 During this short reign of one hundred days, La Fay- 
 ette had but little confidence in the emperor ; he saw him 
 for the first time, at the opening of the session on the 
 7th of June. "It is above twelve years since we have 
 met," said Napoleon in a very kind and affectionate 
 manner. But this had no influence on La Fayette. 
 The defeat of the emperor at Waterloo, and his attempt, 
 and that of his personal friends, to prorogue the cham 
 ber, and declare himself dictator, afforded a crisis which 
 called forth all the energies of the patriot of 89. Na 
 poleon arrived at Paris, on the night of the 20th of June, 
 and confirmed all that had been feared as to the. defeat 
 of the army, and the critical situation of the country. 
 The chamber was thrown into great agitation, not only 
 from the approach of foreign armies, but from a report 
 that the emperor was about to dissolve the chamber; 
 various propositions were moved and withdrawn, and 
 no one seemed to know what to do. At length the ven 
 erable patriot, La Fayette, arose, ascended the tribune, 
 and addressed the chamber "This is the first time that 
 I have raised my voice within these walls, and I feel the 
 necessity of opening my whole soul to my colleagues. 
 In a time of public distress, the true friends of liberty 
 will perhaps recognise this voice which has always been 
 raised in its defence, and never has been mingled with 
 the cries of faction. Our armies have suffered a re 
 verse, and our territory is threatened. It is to you, 
 representatives of the people, that it belongs to rally the 
 nation around the tri-coloured banner of 1789, that sa 
 cred standard which is the signal of the revival of liberty, 
 independence, and public order. It is to you that it be 
 longs to summon the whole nation to the defence of its 
 rights, its independence, and its territory against foreign 
 usurpation. A veteran of liberty, aid, I repeat it, a 
 stranger to the spirit of faction,! am about to propose to 
 you those measures which our present criticar circum- 
 stances imperiously require." 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 565 
 
 He then submitted the following propositions: 
 
 "Article I The chamber of representatives declare that the indepen 
 dence of the nation is endangered. 
 
 "Articled The chamber declare themselves in continued session; that 
 every attempt to prorogue the session shall be considered high treason; 
 that anyone guilty of such attempt shall be deemed a traitor to his coun 
 try, and be instantly proceeded against as such. 
 
 "Article 3 The army of the line and the national guards, who have 
 fought and are still fighting for the independence of France, deserve the 
 gratitude of their country. 
 
 "Article 4 The Minister of the Interior is requested to assemble the 
 General Staff, the cornmandents and Majors of the Legion of the Nation 
 al uuards of Paris, to consult on the means of supplying tliem with arms, 
 and to render complete this citizen guard, whose patriotism and zeal, hav 
 ing been proved for twenty-six years, offer a sure guarantee of the liberty, 
 the property, and the tranquillity of the capitol, and of the inviolability of 
 the representatives of the nation. 
 
 "Article 5 The Ministers of War, those of Foreign Relations, of the 
 Interior, and of the Police, are invited to attend the assembly immediately." 
 
 These resolutions were adopted with some slight al 
 terations. 
 
 General La Fayette had been informed by Regnault 
 de St . Jean d Angely, and Thibandeau, two of the em 
 peror s council, who were opposed to this violent meas 
 ure, that it was the intention of Napoleon immediately 
 to dissolve the chamber. It was a great crisis; either 
 the emperor or the chamber must fall that day, and the 
 courage and influence of La Fayette decided this mo 
 mentous question. The emperor was said to be greatly 
 agitated when he was informed that La Fayette was 
 addressing the chamber. What," said he, "La Fay 
 ette in the tribune?" He was greatly agitated and em 
 barrassed from the measures which had been adopted in 
 the chamber; he hesitated nearly the whole day what 
 course to pursue; his friends were also divided in their 
 opinions; his courage and firmness seemed to have for 
 saken him, and it is said that Lucien told him, that the 
 smoke of the battle of Mount St. Jean had turned his 
 brain." It was finally decided to send Lucien and three 
 of the ministers to the chamber, in conformity to their 
 resolution, to make a partial exposition of the state of 
 affairs. Bonaparte relied, principally, on the eloquence 
 of Lucien, to which he was indebted for success in the 
 
56J5 MARqUlb DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 revolution of the 18th of Brumal re, to bring the chanr- 
 ber into his views. It was past 5 o clock in the evening 
 when the ministers and Lucien arrived; the appearance 
 of the latter occasioned loud murmurs; which, however, 
 subsided on the house being informed by the president 
 that he appeared as the commissioner of the emperor. 
 The ministers made a partial exposition of the state of 
 toffahrs, of the resources of the nation, and of the hopes 
 and projects they still entertained. A short, but painful 
 silence ensued, which was interrupted by an animated 
 debate, attended with great agitation. M. Duchene, 
 and other members, (among whom was Mr. Jay, who 
 twenty years ago was well known in Boston, under the 
 assumed name of Renaud, as a teacher of the French 
 language, and writer in the public newspapers,) took a 
 hasty, but spirited view of the alarming state or affairs, 
 the impossibility of opposing the advance of the enemy, 
 and concluded, by strongly urging, that, as the allies had 
 refused to treat with the man at the head of the govern 
 ment, it was a duty which the chamber owed the nation, 
 to insist on the unqualified abdication of the emperor. 
 This bold proposition had been apprehended, and to 
 resist which Lucien had attended the chamber. He 
 had exhibited great impatience and excitement during 
 the discussion. His situation was the most critical and 
 trying ; the power and political existence of the emperor, 
 and all the hopes, and objects depending upon them, 
 \vere confined to him, and depended on the success of 
 his efforts. He was sensible too, of the disposition of 
 the chamber, and of the alarm which prevailed among 
 the members. At length Lucien arose, and ascended 
 the tribune, and in the doubtful and gloomy light which 
 two vast torches shed through the hall, and over the anx 
 ious features of the members, commenced a reply. Mo 
 mentous as was the occasion, he was found fully equal to 
 it; he never before appeared equally powerful, or poured 
 forth such a strain of impassioned and vehement elo 
 quence. It was a speech worthy the defence of a throne 
 and a dynasty. The scope of his argument was de 
 signed to prove, that the pretension of the allies, that 
 tfreir designs were directed against the emperor, and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 567 
 
 not against France, were deceptive and intended to 
 delude the French people, and lead to the subjugation 
 of the nation; that the people of France were still at 
 tached to the emperor; that momentous as was the cri 
 sis, the resources of the country were adequate to its 
 defence, and that the genius and talents of the emperor, 
 were necessary for this object. He insisted that the 
 emperor was necessary to the salvation of France, and 
 that to separate him from the nation, would be to deliver 
 it up to their implacable enemies, "It is not Napoleon, * 
 he cried, "that is attacked, it is the French people: and 
 a proposition is now made to this people, to abandon 
 their emperor; to expos.e the French nation before the 
 tribunal of the world to a severe judgment on its levity 
 and inconstancy. No sir, the honour of this nation shall 
 never be so compromised!" As soon as this solemn dec 
 laration was made, La Fayette arose, and interrupted 
 the speaker. Standing in his place, and without going 
 to the tribune, which was contrary to the rules of the 
 house, he observed in a manner calm and dignified, ad 
 dressing himself to Lucien, and not to the president 
 "The assertion which has just been uttered is a calumny. 
 Who shall dare to accuse the French nation of incon 
 stancy to the Emperor Napoleon? That nation ha?; 
 followed his bloody footsteps through the sands of Egypt, 
 and through the wastes of Russia; over fifty fields of 
 battle; as faithful in disaster as in victory; and it is for 
 having thus devotedly followed him, that we now mourn 
 the blood of three millions of Frenchmen." These words 
 and the solemn truths they conveyed, made a visible 
 impression on the chamber, which Lucien perceiving, 
 he bowed respectfully to La Fayette, and sat down 
 without resuming his speech. 
 
 Finally, a resolution was carried to appoint a deputa 
 tion of live members from each chamber, to attend the 
 grand council of ministers which was to be held that 
 night to determine on the measures to be adopted. La 
 Fayette was one of the number. Carnbaceres, the arch- 
 chancellor of the empire, presided at the sitting. A 
 motion was made by La Fayette that a deputation, the. 
 next morning, wait on the emperor and request his ab- 
 
568 MARQUIS DE LA FAVETTE. 
 
 dication: this motion the president refused to put; but 
 it was as much decided as though it had heen formally 
 adopted. The following morning, the 22d of June, Na 
 poleon sent to the chamber his abdication; and a com 
 mittee was thereupon appointed, of which La Fayette 
 was one, who went to the Thuilleries, to thank him for 
 it, in behalf of the nation. It was this bold asserter 
 of the rights of the people, also, who proposed that the 
 life of Napoleon should be put under the protection of 
 the Frervch people. A provisional government was es 
 tablished, which appointed commissioners, of whom La 
 Fayette was the head, to treat with the allies for the 
 suspension of hostilities; but their efforts ware unavail 
 ing, as this did not agree with their legitimate views. 
 On returning to the capital, he learned with surprise and 
 regret, that the city had capitulated, and the army been 
 withdrawn. The chamber continued in session until the 
 7th of July, and on the next day, the doors being closed 
 by the gens (Farmes, although it is not known by whose 
 orders, a number of the deputies naet at the house of La 
 Fayette, from whence, at his instance, they repaired to 
 that of the president, and entered a formal protest aginst 
 this forcible and unjust exclusion, and each one went his 
 own way. Perceiving that nothing more could be done 
 to secure the liberties of the people, La Fayette retired 
 to his estate. He did not, like some of his mistaken 
 friends in America, hail the restoration of the Bourbons, 
 as having rendered the "family of nations complete," or 
 as a glorious termination of "the long agony" for liber 
 ty. He did not acknowledge the "legitimacy" of a 
 dynasty and government established by force and vio 
 lence, the invasion and subjugation of the country, by 
 foreign armies; he did not supplicate for favour or pre 
 ferment; he did not even visit the king; and the minions 
 of the "holy alliance" knew him too well to consult him, 
 or invite him to take any part in the new government, 
 although many of the creatures of Bonaparte were em 
 ployed. 
 
 Since this era, General La FayeUe. has remained in 
 retirement, and taken but little part in public affairs. 
 He has been twice returned a member of the chamber 
 
MARQUIS BE LA FAYETTE 569 
 
 of deputies since 1817, in opposition to all the influence 
 of the ministerial party. He, in general, has taken but 
 little part in the business of the legislature, believing 
 that he could do no good. But the plan of the minister 
 to establish a censorship over the press, aroused the pat 
 riotism and spirit of this veteran of two revolutions. 
 He declared with great energy, that the law was incom 
 patible with even the most limited freedom, and an out 
 rage on the rights of the people; and he "conjured the 
 servants of the crown to maintain the liberties of France 
 within the limits prescribed by the constitution. To 
 violate it, is to dissolve the mutual guarantees of 
 the nation and the throne; it is to give ourselves up 
 to total primitive freedom, from all duties and from all 
 laws." 
 
 The proposed law was adopted by a small majority; 
 which led to the institution of a society, consisting of 
 the members of the opposition, and other liberals, for the 
 relief of those who might suffer on account of the un 
 just restrictions on the press. General La Fayette was 
 placed at the head of this society. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 General La Fayette receives numerous invitations to visit the United States once more 
 Resolution of congress on this subject He arrives at New York The reception he 
 has met with by the people Detail of the manner of his reception by congress Ad- 
 fress of the speaker and his reply Grant nde him by congress His services for A- 
 raerica and character. 
 
 As GENERAL LA FAYETTE could discover but little grat 
 ifying to him, in the present political condition and fu 
 ture prospects of his native country, for several years 
 past, his heart seems to have inclined, with unusual 
 fondness, to the country of his adoption to his dear 
 America, the theatre of his early and successful strug 
 gles in the cause of liberty; where his patriotism and 
 services in that sacred cause are duly appreciated, and 
 where he is honoured, venerated, and almost adored. 
 Having signified to many Americans, and others, his 
 intentions of visiting the United States once more, nu 
 merous public and private letters were written to him. 
 from this country., expressing much satisfaction at this 
 
;)70 ^ARquis DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 intelligence, and the hope that the citizens of the Uni J 
 ted States would soon be gratified by seeing among them 
 this distinguished friend of America and great apostle 
 of liberty. Among other communications were letters 
 from the mayors of New-York and Boston, inviting him 
 to visit those cities; and in January, 1824, congress 
 adopted a resolution requesting the president "to offer 
 him a public ship, for his accommodation, and to assure 
 him, in the name of the people of this great republic, 
 that they cherished for him a grateful and affectionate 
 attachment." This national respect, more honourable 
 perhaps, than any individual ever received before, under 
 similar circumstances, he declined, probably from mo 
 tives of delicacy; but embarked at Havre, (the port at 
 which he had three times before set sail for the United 
 States,) in a private vessel, and arrived at New-York on 
 the 15th of August, 1824. He was accompanied by his 
 son George Washington La Fayette, and his friend and 
 private secretary, M. Le Vassieur. 
 
 The reception which General La Fayette met with 
 at this commercial metropolis of the United States, and 
 in every other town which he has visited, or through 
 which he has passed, has been such as became the free 
 citizens of the freest nation on earth, to offer to the first 
 and most venerated patriot of the age, and the early 
 and undeviating friend of America, who bad sacrificed 
 his fortune and his blood in establishing its independence 
 and liberty. Although he came among us as a private 
 individual, he has been received as a public or national 
 character, as the guest of the country, and honoured as 
 the distinguished and disinterested benefactor of Amer 
 ica; to whom, ten millions of freemen acknowledge them 
 selves measurably indebted for the political privileges 
 and blessings which they enjoy. No man ever received, 
 and no one can receive greater honour than this: the 
 homage and gratitude of an entire nation ; unbribed and 
 unbought, flowing spontaneously, the free-will offering of 
 the heart; a universal impulse which vibrated as the 
 pulse of the nation. To this universal feeling, mani 
 fested in a thousand ways and by the strongest demon 
 strations, there is not a solitary discordant voice; there 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 57 i 
 
 is "no rebellious string, that jars in the grand chorus 
 and dissents." All are united, there is but one senti 
 ment, and the wish of the imperial tyrant of Rome 
 that the Roman people had but one neck that he might 
 sever it at a blow, is in some measure realized here, on 
 the present occasion, as the American people have but 
 one heart, and but one voice. This honour, unexampled 
 and distinguished as it is, does not exceed the merits of 
 the individual who is the subject of it, as his character 
 and services for America, are equally unexampled. 
 The moral grandeur of this scene is unequalled, and its 
 political influence must be great and salutary. It is not 
 only to the benefactor of America that such distin 
 guished honours are offered ; but it is also to the uniform 
 and consistent patriot, and the steadfast and nndeviating 
 friend of liberty. 
 
 These honours from the people, in their individual and 
 primary character, called for corresponding conduct 
 from the nation in its collective and corporate capacity; 
 and the representatives of the people have met the 
 wishes of their constituents, and as the organs of the 
 public will, have, in the name of the nation, shown that 
 respect to the distinguished benefactor of the country, 
 which corresponded with the sentiments manifested by 
 the people. They have done more; they have offered a 
 more substantial tribute of respect, and in some meas 
 ure discharged the rogations of the nation to its dis 
 interested and illustrious benefactor. 
 
 We cannot, from our prescribed limits, follow General 
 La Fayette in his tour through the United States, and 
 his visits to the principal towns, and notice the various 
 manifestations of respect and gratitude, by addresses, 
 illuminations, military escorts, parades, and public en 
 tertainments; besides, these details have so recently 
 appeared in the public papers, that they are fresh in the 
 minds of all, and a repetition of them would afford but 
 little interest. The respect, however, shown him by 
 congress, possessing a national character, is more de 
 serving of notice. 
 
 President Monroe, in his message at the opening of 
 the session, recommended to congress to make some 
 
 Z3 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETlfc. 
 
 remuneration to General La Fayette, for his services 
 and sacrifices in the revolutionary war, worthy the na 
 tional character. The suggestion of the president, 
 which was in accordance with the sentiments of the 
 people, has been very honourably followed up by con 
 gress, which has manifested its respect and liberality, 
 both in a manner wholly unexampled. 
 
 At the commencement of the sessio n, a joint commit 
 tee was appointed to consider and report, what respect 
 ful mode it might be proper for congress to adopt to re 
 live Gen. La Fayette, and to testify the high gratifica 
 tion which he has afforded, by his present visit to the 
 United States. The committee, on the part of the 
 house, recommended the following resolutions, which 
 were unanimously adopted: 
 
 "Resolved, That the congratulations of this House be publicly given 
 to General La Fayette, on his arrival in the United States, in compliance 
 with the wishes of congress, and that he be assured of the gratitude and 
 deep respect which the House entertains for his signal and illustrious ser 
 vices in the Revolution, and the pleasure it feels in being able to welcome 
 him, after an absence of so many years, to the theatre of his early labour? 
 and early renown. 
 
 "Resolved, Tirat. for this purpose, General La Fayette be invited by a 
 Committee to attend the House on Friday next, atone o^clock; that he be 
 introduced by the Committee, and received by the members standing, 
 uncovered, and addiessed by the Speaker in behalf of the House." 
 
 The committee, on the part of r the senate, recom 
 mended "that the president of the senate invite General 
 La Fayette to take a seat, such as he might designate, 
 in the senate chamber; that the committee deliver the 
 invitation to the general, and introduce him into the sen 
 ate, and the members to receive him standing."" This 
 resolution was unanimously adopted: and about one 
 o clock on the 9th of December, General La Fayette 
 entered supported on the left by the Hon. Mr. Bar- 
 bour, chairman of the committee, and followed by the 
 rest of the cominitte; he was conducted to a seat 
 on the right of the president pro tern, the Hon. Mr. 
 Gaillard, in the presence of the senators, all of whom 
 were standing. As he entered, Mr. Barbour addressed 
 the senate in these words: "We present General La 
 Fayette to the senate of the United States;" and as he 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 573 
 
 advanced to the president s chair, the president address 
 ed him: "On the part of the senate, I invite you to take 
 a seat," pointing to the seat on the right of th chair. 
 A motion was then made, "that the senate do now ad 
 journ, for the purpose of allowing the members, individ 
 ually, to pay their respects to General La Fayette;" 
 which was unanimously adopted; and thereupon the 
 members, leaving their seats, in turn saluted him, in the 
 most cordial manner. 
 
 This is the iirst instance, in which an individual was 
 introduced to the Senate of the United States, whilst in 
 session. 
 
 Caesar never received greater honour from the ser 
 vile senate of Rome, when his victorious legions sur 
 rounded the capitol; but one was the constrained horn* 
 age bestowed on a conquerer, at the head of a victorious 
 army; the other, the free and spontaneous honour shown 
 to a private individual, without power .or influence to 
 command it, or any other consideration, but his unexam 
 pled patriotism and distinguished services. 
 
 At an early hour on the next day, crowds were flock 
 ing into the galleries of the house of representatives, 
 and before 1 J o clock a concourse of ladies entered the 
 hall and took the seats and sofas prepared for them; it 
 was found necessary to provide additional seats, and 
 soon the house presented an exhibition of beauty and 
 fashion, which it is presumed has never been equalled, 
 and that gave a more imposing interest to a scene nat 
 urally grand and affecting. A motion having been adop 
 ted, to invite the members of the senate to attend on the 
 occasion, they entered in procession, and took seats on 
 the right of the speaker. At one o clock, George Wash 
 ington La Fayette and Colonel La Vassieur, the secre 
 tary of the general, entered and took seats by the side 
 of the secretary of state ; and in a few minutes, Gener 
 al La Fayette entered the house, supported on his right 
 by Mr. Mitchell, chairman of the committee, on his left 
 by Mr. Livingston, and followed by the rest of the com 
 mittee. 
 
 The speaker and members then rose, and the proces 
 sion advanced towards the centre of the house, when 
 
574 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTt. 
 
 Mr. Mitchell introduced General La Fayette in the fol 
 lowing words: u Mr. Speaker The select commit 
 tee, appointed for that purpose, have the honour to in 
 troduce General La Fayette to the House of Representa 
 tives." 
 
 General La Fayette being conducted to the seat pre 
 pared for him, the speaker, Mr. Clay, arose and addres 
 sed him in the following dignified and impressive man 
 ner: 
 
 "GENERAL: The house of representatives of the United States, im 
 pelled alike by its own feelings, and by those of the whole American peo 
 ple, could net have assigned to me a more gratifying duty than that of 
 presenting to you cordial congratulations upon the occasion of your re 
 cent arrival in the United States, in compliance with the wishes of con 
 gress, and to assure you of the- very high satisfaction which your presence 
 affords on this early theatre of your glory and renown. Although but 
 few of the members who compose this body shared with you in the war of 
 our revolution, all have, from an impartial history, or from faithful tradi 
 tion, a knowledge of the perils, the sufferings, and the sacrifices which you 
 voluntarily encountered, and the signal services, in America and Europe, 
 which you performed for an infant, a distant, arid an alien people; and all 
 feel and own the very great extent of the obligations under which you 
 have placed our country. But the relations in which you have ever stood 
 to the United States, interesting and important as they have been, do not 
 constitute tlie only motive of the respect and admiration which the house 
 of representatives entertain for you. Your consistency of character, your 
 uniform devotion to regulated liberty, in all the vicessitudes of a long and 
 arduous life, also command its admiration. During all the recent convul 
 sions of Europe, amidst, as after the dispersion of, every political storm, 
 the people of the United States have beheld you, true to your old princi 
 ples, firm and erect, cheering and animating with your well-known voice, 
 the votaries of liberty, its faithful and fearless champion, ready to sheo! 
 the last drop of that blood which here you so freely and nobly spilt, in the 
 same holy cause. 
 
 The vain wish has been sometimes indulged, that Providence would 
 allow the patriot, after death, to return to his country, and to contemplate 
 the intermediate changes which had taken place to view the forest felled, 
 the cities built, the mountains levelled, the canals cut, the highways con 
 structed, the progress of the arts, the advancement of learning, and in- 
 cfease of population. General, your present visit to the United States is 
 a realization of the consoling object of that wish. You are in the midst 
 of posterity. Every where, you must have been struck with the great 
 changes, physical and moral, which have occurred since you left us. Even 
 this very city, bearing a venerated name, alike endeared to you and to us, 
 has since emerged from the forest which then covered its site. In one re- 
 sf>ect you behold us unaltered, and that it is in the sentiment of continued 
 devotion to liberty, and of ardent affection and profound gratitude to your 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 575 
 
 departed friend, the father of his country, and to you, and to your illustri 
 ous associates in the field and in the cabinet, for the multiplied blessings 
 which surround us, and for the very privilege of addressing you, which I 
 now exercise. This sentiment, now fondly cherished by more than ten 
 millions of people, will be transmitted, with unabated vigour, down the 
 tide of iune, through the countless millions who are destined to inhabit 
 this continent, to the latest posterity." 
 
 While the speaker was addressing him, General La 
 Fayette was very evidently affected . At the close of 
 the address, he seated himself for a few seconds, and 
 then rose, and in a tone influenced by powerful feeling,, 
 made the following reply: 
 
 Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen 
 
 of the House of Representatives: 
 
 While the people of the United States, and their honourable represen 
 tatives in congress, have deigned to make choice of me, one of the Amer 
 ican veterans, to signify, in his person, their esteem for our joint services, 
 and their attachment to the principles for which we have had the honour 
 to fight and bleed, I am proud and happy to share those extraordinary fa 
 vours with ?ny dear revolutionary companions; yet it would be, on my 
 3>art, uncandid and Ungrateful not to acknowledge my personal share in 
 their testimonies of kindness, as they excite in my mind emotions which 
 no adequate words could express. 
 
 My obligations to the United States, sir, far exceed any merit I might 
 ciaim ; they date from the time when I have had the happiness to be adop 
 ted as a young soldier, a favoured son of America; they have been contin 
 ued to me during almost, half a century of constant affection and confi 
 dence; and now, sir, thanks to your most gratifying invitation, I find my 
 self greeted by a series of welcomes, one hour of which would more 
 than compensate for the public exertions and sufferings of a whole life. 
 
 The approbation of the American people, and their representatives, for 
 my conduct during the vicissitudes of the European revolution, is the 
 highest reward I could receive. Well may I stand firm and erect, when 
 in their names, and by you, Mr. Speaker, I am declared to have, in every 
 instance, been faithful to those American principles of liberty, equality, 
 and true social order, the devotion to which, as it has been from my earli 
 est youth, so it shall continue to be to my latest breath. 
 
 You have been pleased, Mr. Speaker, to allude to the peculiar felicity of 
 my situation, when, after so long an absence, I am called to witness the 
 immense improvements, the admirable communications, the prodigious 
 creations, of which we find an example in this city, whose name itself is 
 a venerated palladium; in a word, all the grandeur and prosperity of those 
 happy United States, who at the same time they nobly secure the complete 
 assertion of American independence, reflect, on every part of the world, 
 the light of a far superior political civilization. 
 
 What better pledge can be given, of a persevering national love of lib 
 erty, when those blessings are evidently the result of a virtuous resistance 
 
576 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 to oppression, and of institutions founded on the rights of man, and tlrtr 
 republican principle of self-government. 
 
 No, Mr. Speaker, posterity has not begun for me, since, in the sons of 
 my companions and friends, I find the same public feelings, and, permit 
 me to add, the same feelings in my behalf, which I have -had the happiness 
 tp experience in their fathers. 
 
 Sir, I have been allowed, forty years ago, before a Committee of a Con 
 gress of thirteen states, to express the fond wishes of an American heart; 
 on this day, I have the honour, and enjoy the delight, to congratulate the 
 Representatives of the Union, so vastly enlarged, on the realization of 
 those wishes, even beyond every human expectation., and upon the almost 
 infinite prospects we can with certainty anticipate; permit me, Mr, Speak 
 er, and gentlemen of the house of representatives, to join to the expression 
 of those sentimenis, a tribute of my lively gratitude, affectionate devotion, 
 and profound respect. 
 
 This scene, this simple and unstudied expression of a 
 nation s feelings towards its early and disinterested ben 
 efactor, was truly affecting and sublime; how unlike 
 the kingly pomp, the idle and ceremonious pageantry of 
 courts! it gives a moral effect and grandeur to the repub 
 lican character and free institutions, which exalt them 
 far above any thing which the records of monarchy af* 
 ford. 
 
 The noble sentiments, worthy of the best days of Rome, 
 of the address of the speaker, and the reply of the gen 
 eral, were listened to with the profoundest attention ; the 
 deepest interest was manifested; and both on the floor, 
 and in the galleries, the most unbroken silence prevailed : 
 every eye was strained, and every ear on the alert, that 
 not a word, nor a movement of the countenance of the ven 
 erable object of such unexampled national honour, should 
 be lost. 
 
 As soon as the general resumed his seat, a motion 
 was made and adopted to adjourn; and immediately 
 the speaker left tUe chair, and offered him his personal- 
 congratulations, shaking him cordially by the hand. 
 This was followed, by the speaker s introducing all the 
 members of the house individually to the general, which 
 closed a scene the most imposing in its character, and 
 instructive in its effects, which, perhaps, has ever been 
 witnessed in any age or nation. 
 
 But congress did not stop here; they have left on 
 record a more substantial and imperishable testimonial 
 
WARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 577 
 
 of national gratitude. A committee was raised in each 
 house, to consider and report what provision it would 
 be proper to make for Gen. La Fayette; which report 
 ed a bill granting to him two hundred thousand dollars, 
 in stock to be created for that purpose, and a township 
 of land, to be located on any of the unappropriated lands 
 of the government. This bill, after some slight opposi 
 tion, which only served to call forth a disclosure of the 
 immense expenditures and sacrifice of this veteran patri 
 ot during the six years he was engaged in onr revolution 
 ary struggle, was adopted, there being only seven dis 
 senting voices in the senate, and twenty-six in the house. 
 It was stated by Mr. Haynes in the senate, that he had 
 documents in his hand, which had been obtained with 
 out the interferance or knowledge of La Fayette, from 
 which it incontestably appeared that during six years of 
 the American war, he expended in the service 700,000 
 francs, or 140,000 dollars. This sum, at compound in 
 terest for forty-three years, would amount to more than 
 a million of dollars. Mr. Haynes also stated another 
 fact, highly honourable to the general. In 1803, con 
 gress granted him a tract of 11,520 acres of land, to be 
 located in any of the unappropriated lands of the gov 
 ernment; and his agent located 1000 acres in the coun 
 ty of Orleans, in the vicinity of the city of N. O. Without 
 attending to this fact, congress subsequently included 
 this tract in a grant of land made to that city. This 
 tract was then worth 50,000 dollars, and is now said to 
 be valued at 500,000. Notwithstanding this, and al 
 though advised that his title was indubitably valid, the 
 general, with singular delicacy of feeling, immediately 
 relinquished his claim, and caused a deed to be recorded, 
 remarking, "that he would not enter into controversy: 
 the act had been gratuitous, and congress best knew 
 what they intended to bestow." 
 The following is the act: 
 
 Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the Uni 
 ted States of America, in Congress assembled, That in consideration, of 
 the services and sacrifices of General La Fayette, in the war of the rev6- 
 lution, the secretary of the treasury be, and he is hereby authorized, to 
 pay to him the sum of two hundred thousand dplJars out of any money in 
 ..the treasury not otherwj^e appropriated v 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FA\ fcTTE. 
 
 Sec. 2. And be it further enacted, that there be granted to the said Gen. 
 La Fayette, and his heirs, one township of land, to be laid out and loca 
 ted under the authority of the president, in any of the unappropriated 
 lands of the United States. 
 
 H. CLAY, 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives, 
 
 JOHN GAILLARD, 
 President of the Senate, pro tempore. 
 Washington, Dec. 28th, 1 824- Approved : 
 
 JAMES MONROE. 
 
 This grant., liberal as it is, does not exceed the merits 
 of the illustrious patriot, who is the worthy object of it, 
 or the wishes of the American people; it is worthy the 
 national justice and munificence, and the character and 
 services of La Fayette. In addition to this and the 
 grant of land in 1803, already alluded to, in 1794, when 
 he was persecuted and proscribed at home, his estates 
 confiscated and his family impoverished; when he was 
 the victim of the vengeance of coalesced kings, he was 
 not forgotten in America, and congress granted him tho 
 pay of a major-general, for the period of his service in 
 the army of the United States; he having declined re 
 ceiving any compensation at the time. 
 
 General La Fayette is undoubtedly the most interest 
 ing character now living; and with the exception of a 
 venerated name, who was his own leader and guide 
 who was "First in war, first in peace, and first in the 
 hearts of his countrymen," probably the most interesting 
 character in the annals of history. 
 
 His services for America, whether we consider the 
 disinterested and patriotic motives which produced 
 them, the great individual sacrifices which attended 
 them, or their important consequences to the sacred 
 cause of independence and liberty in which they were 
 employed, are without any example, and can never be 
 sufficiently appreciated. Whether the American colo 
 nies alone, and unaided by any foreign assistance, would 
 have been able to have sustained themselves in the 
 mighty struggle with Great Britain^ and to have estab 
 lished their independence, must now for ever remain a 
 problem; but it is evident that the war could not have 
 been brought to a conclusion at the time and manner it 
 
MARQUIS DE LA .FAYETTE. 679 
 
 was; for, to say nothing about the assistance of the 
 French troops, amounting to above seven thousand, the 
 successful operations at Yorktown, which so gloriously 
 terminated the war, were entirely dependent oa the co 
 operation of the French fleet. It was the assistance of 
 France, that brought the revolutionary struggle to a 
 close, and how far we are indebted to General La Fay- 
 ette for that assistance, cannot now well be determined; 
 but it is a position by no means extravagant, that it is to 
 his exertions and influence, directly and indirectly, that 
 we are to attribute the assistance afforded America by 
 France. 
 
 General La Fayetle possesses the highest and most, 
 honourable character which has ever adorned human 
 nature, that of a distinguished, consistent, and undeviating 
 PATRIOT AND PHILANTHROPIST the lover of liberty and 
 the friend of mankind. 
 
 The subjoined extract from Madame de Stael, who 
 was personally acquainted with all the distinguished 
 characters who figured in the French revolution, and 
 with the events of that important epoch, is an honoura 
 ble testimony of the worth and character of Gen. L.a 
 Fayette: 
 
 "M. de La Fayette, having fought from his early youth for the cause of 
 America, had early become imbued with the principles of liberty, which 
 formed the basis of that government. If he made mistakes with regard to 
 the French revolution, we are to ascribe them all to his admiration of 
 American institutions, and of Washington, the hero citizen, who guided 
 the first steps of th&t nation in the career of independence. La Fayette, 
 young, affluent, of noble family, and beloved at home, relinquished all 
 these advantages at the age of nineteen, to serve beyond the ocean in the 
 cause of that liberty, the love of which has decided every action of his life. 
 Had he had the happiness to be a native of the United States, his conduct 
 would have been that of Washington: the same disinterestedness, the 
 same enthusiasm, the same perseverance in their opinions, distinguished 
 each of these generous friends of humanity. Had General Washington 
 been, like the Marquis de La Fayette, commander of the National Guards 
 of Paris, he also might have found it impossible to control the course of 
 circumstances; he also might have seen fcis efforts baffled by the difficulty 
 of being at once faithful to his engagements to the king, and of establish- 
 ing at the same time the liberty of his country. 
 
 "M. de La Fayette, I must say, has a right to be considered as a true 
 republican: none of the vanities of his rank ever entered his head: pow 
 er, the effect of which is o great in France, had no ascendency over. Mm: 
 
 A 4 
 
;>80 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 the desire of pleasing in a drawing-room conversation, did not with him 
 influence a single phrase: he sacrificed all his fortune to his opinions, with 
 the most generous indifference. When in the prisons of Olmutz, as when 
 at the heigh t of his influence, he was equally firm in his attachment to his 
 principles. His manner of seeing and acting, is open and direct. Who 
 ever has marked his conduct, may foretell with certainty what he will do 
 on any particular occasion. 
 
 "His political feeling is that of a citizen of the United States; and even 
 his person is more English than French. The hatred, of which M. La 
 Fayetteis the object, has never embittered his temper; and his gentleness 
 of soul is complete: at the same time nothing has ever modified his opin 
 ions; and his confidence in the triumph of liberty, is the same as that of 
 a pious man in a future life. These sentiments, so contrary to the selfish 
 calculations of most of the men who have acted a part in France, may 
 appear pitiable in the eyes of some persons "it is so silly," they think, "to 
 prefer one s country to one s self; not to change one s party when that 
 party is worsted; in short, to consider mankind, not as cards with which 
 to play a winning game, but as the sacred objects of unlimited sacrifices. 
 If this is to form the charge of silliness, would that it were but once mer 
 ited by our men of talents! 
 
 "It is a singular phenomenon, that such a character as that ofM. de La 
 Fayette, should have appeared in the foremost rank of the French noblesse- 
 but he can neither be censured nor exculpated with impartiality, without 
 being acknowledged to be such as I have described him. It then becomes 
 easy to understand the different contrasts which naturally arose between 
 his disposition and character. Supporting monarchy more from duty than 
 attachment, he drew involuntarily towards the principles of the democrats, 
 whom he was obliged to resist; and a certain kindness for the advocates 
 of the republican form, was perceptible in him, although his reflection 
 forbade the admission of their system into France. Since the departure 
 of M. de La Fayette for America, now forty years ago, we cannot quote a 
 single action or a single word of his, which was not direct and consistent. 
 Personal interest never blended itself in the least with his public conduct- 
 success would have displayed such sentiments to advantage; but they 
 claim the attention of the historian in spite of circumstances, and in spite 
 of faults, which may serve as a handle to his opponents." 
 
 We would not wish to write an eulogium on La Fay 
 ette; he certainly requires none; a simple relation of 
 the facts, connected with his life and conduct, is the 
 highest panegyric that can be bestowed on him; the 
 faithful page of history will be the proudest monument 
 of his fame, and sufficiently substantial to sustain all the 
 laurels that adorn his name. It is not on the extraordi 
 nary talents he has displayed, or the brilliancy of any 
 particular action or event; it is not on the number of 
 pitched battles he has fought, or the victories he has 
 won, that his reputation depends. It rests pa a more 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 581 
 
 substantial and noble basis private worth and public 
 virtue. There have been greater generals and orators 
 in almost every age; and there were many greater, or 
 at least more fortunate, among the distinguished char 
 acters which the memorable revolution in his own coun 
 try called forth. But the powers of his mind, and the 
 adequacy of his talents to any service, whether in the 
 civil or military concerns of government, are sufficiently 
 established from the fact, that he sustained the very lirst 
 rank, and perhaps more influence than any other indi 
 vidual, among that brilliant galaxy of genius and talents 
 which irradiated the horizon of France during the ear 
 ly part of the French revolution. To be in the first 
 rank, if not the very first, among such an assemblage of 
 learning and eloquence, is sufficient to establish his 
 claim to superiority. But it is certain that in the pro 
 gress of the revolution, there appeared individuals pos 
 sessed of greater learning and talents; greater orators, 
 statesmen, and warriors; yet, nevertheless, there is no 
 one who has gone through that mighty ordeal with a 
 reputation that will in any respect compare with his. It 
 is true that many of the greatest and best men were cut 
 off by the guillotine; but of those who survived the 
 restoration of the Bourbons, which ended the revolution 
 ary period, La Fayette seems to have been almost the 
 only one, among the distinguished actors, who has pass 
 ed through this long and eventful period, so fruitful in 
 dangers and trials, with an unsullied reputation; who 
 ended with the same principles with which they com 
 menced, and maintained a perfect consistency of char 
 acter. If there is any other, it must be Carnot; and he 
 yielded, in some measure, to the usurpation of Bona 
 parte, but not until his country was about to be invaded 
 by foreign armies, which threatened a greater evil to 
 France and obstacle to the liberties of the people, than 
 existed in the despotism of Napoleon, by the restoration 
 of the Bourbons. 
 
 La Fayette possessed the same political principles, 
 the same attachment to freedom, the same sacred regard 
 to the rights of the people, and steady adherence to the 
 cardinal basis of civil liberty, resting on free institutions. 
 
MARQUIS 1>E LA FAYETTE. 
 
 under all circumstances, on both sides of the Atlantic; 
 as a volunteer in the struggle of a distant and alien peo 
 ple for their political rights; in success and a popularity 
 never equalled; in the sudden loss of that popularity, 
 followed by proscription and exile; and he has exhibited 
 the same confidence in his principles and professions, the 
 same integrity of purpose, in glory and in suffering, in 
 popularity and in power, and in proscription and dis 
 grace. When directing the revolution or the victim ef 
 its injustice and violence, he ^has maintained the same 
 tone, the same air, the same open confidence amidst the 
 ruins of the Bastile, in the Champ de Mars, under the 
 despotism of Bonaparte, and in the dungeons of Olmutz." 
 It is the character of a consistent, uniform, and incor 
 ruptible patriot^ or rather the services he has performed, 
 and the sacrifices he hasmade, which afford the evidence 
 of this character, on which the magnificient fabric of his 
 reputation rests; this is a foundation which time will 
 not impair; and the fame which it supports, undimmed 
 by age, will shine brighter and brighter as long as lib 
 erty has an abode on earth, or virtue is revered. 
 
 It must be admitted that La Fayette, like most others, 
 is in some degree indebted to fortune, for his extraordi 
 nary character. He lived in the most eventful period, 
 and one the most important to the destinies of mankind, 
 comprising that portion of time when philosophy applied 
 to the nature and end of government, made mankind 
 acquainted with their political rights, and in which, as 
 a consequence thereof, the great struggle, so interesting 
 to the human race, commenced between the oppressors 
 and the oppressed ; between the people, for the right of 
 self-government, and those who claim the prerogative of 
 governing them, according to "legitimate? principles; 
 who claim an interest and inheritance in them ; a strug 
 gle whicli has been crowned with success in America, 
 made great progress in Europe, and which will not 
 cease, although it may be apparently suppressed, until 
 all the nations of that portion of the earth shall become 
 tree. 
 
 Among all the individuals, who have taken a distin 
 guished part in the events of this period, no man, it is 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 
 
 believed, with one illustrious exception, will leave a rep 
 utation so dear to the friends of freedom, as La Fay- 
 ette. And in one respect his character has no example: 
 he alone, during this important epoch, has acted a dis 
 tinguished part in two hemispheres, and exerted a 
 leading and controlling influence in the two mighty revo* 
 lutions by which this period is distinguished, which, from 
 their moral and political influence, are the most impor 
 tant events in the annals of the world. To have acted 
 an important part in one, and a commanding part in the 
 other, of the two most conspicuous struggles for liberty 
 which have ever occurred, is a circumstance so extraor 
 dinary as would of itself confer great celebrity: but to 
 have acted from the purest and most disinterested pat 
 riotism ; to have sacrificed a princely fortune; to have 
 been the victim of injustice and proscription, for a faith 
 ful adherance to principle; to have endured the severest 
 sufferings; and to have passed through these momentous 
 struggles, abounding in difficulties and trials, with per 
 fect consistency of principle, a steady adherence to his 
 original objects, and without a stain on his escutcheon, is 
 what constitute the chief glory and renown of the man 
 who is the subject of these remarks. 
 
 Who has done more, who has suffered more in the 
 cause of freedom? Who has been more consistent and 
 uniform in the pursuit of the only worthy object of human 
 ambition, that of benefiting mankind? And, notwith 
 standing the failure of the immediate object of the strug 
 gle in France, it may also be asked, who has accom 
 plished more in this sacred cause? To whom, then, is 
 the world more indebted ? Who ought to be more revered 
 by the friends of liberty? Not only the prime of his 
 days, but his early youth and declining years have been 
 devoted to subserve the interests of humanity. The 
 glowing patriotism of the young volunteer of nineteen, 
 was matured by his meridian sun, and is now scarcely 
 less ardent, under the chilling influence of age. The 
 corrupting influence of a long participation in public 
 affairs, and the cold, calculating policy of age, have 
 produced no effect on him. Neither triumphs nor suffer 
 ings, the rage of persecutions, of demagogues, or the 
 
584 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 cruelties of despots, the temptations of power, or the 
 provocation of unjust suffering, have had any influence 
 on his principles. He is the same patriot now, and al 
 most as sanguine in his hopes, as when fighting the bat 
 tles of America, or directing the French revolution, lit 
 erally "a tempestuous sea of liberty." After nearly half 
 a century, devoted to the interests of humanity and the 
 cause of civil liberty, in two hemispheres, he may well 
 be regarded as the "veteran patriot," and as the "great 
 apostle of liberty." 
 
 Since he has been among us, in his answers to public 
 addresses., and in the toasts he has given at public enter 
 tainments, we perceive the same principles, the same 
 love of liberty, and apparently, the same confidence in 
 its ultimate triumph, not only in France, but throughout 
 Europe, which influenced his conduct through a long and 
 active life. It is true he has not since his return to 
 France, taken an active part to promote the freedom of 
 his country ; he has not attempted to make himself a 
 tribune of the people, or to stir up commotions, being as 
 little inclined to faction as to despotism ; and he has be* 
 lieved that neither the military usurpation of Bonaparte^ 
 nor the revival of the feudal despotism by the Bourbons, 
 afforded favourable opportunities to attempt to combine 
 the elements of freedom, which exist in France; he has 
 been contented to wait the slow, but sure progress of 
 public opinion, being persuaded that the operation of 
 this will not fail in due time of producing the emancipa 
 tion of his country. To this event, as xMadame de Stael 
 has well observed, "he looks forward with the same 
 hope, the same consoling confidence, as a pious man does 
 to a future state of existence and felicity." 
 
 Such is the life and character of the man who is now 
 on a visit to the United States, as the "guest of the na 
 tion," and on the invitation of the nation; but, although 
 it is the same nation, it is not the same people with whom 
 he fought and bled; almost the entire population, then 
 on the stage, has past away ; the ten millions of freemen, 
 which greeted his arrival, and who, wherever he goes, 
 offer him the sincere tribute of grateful hearts, nearly all 
 belong to a new generation, which have come on the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 585 
 
 stage of action since that great struggle, in which he 
 acted so prominent and useful a part. It cannot, certainly 
 be a matter of surprise, that there is an universal inter 
 est and curiosity manifested to see such an individual 
 a man who has acted a prominent part in the most im 
 portant concerns and events of half a century past 
 To see such a character is, as was remarked by Mr. 
 Speaker Clay, "like seeing and conversing with one from 
 the dead;" is as beholding one of the grave actors in 
 the great events of which history informs us; it is almost 
 the same as would be the appearance of one of Plu 
 tarch s heroes on the earth. These considerations alone 
 are sufficient to render him an object of the greatest cu 
 riosity and interest; but is it not from these circumstan 
 ces that he is welcomed and greeted with the admira 
 tion and gratitude of the entire population of the 
 country ; these feelings proceed from causes that make 
 a deeper and more lasting impression on the heart ; from 
 his character as a disinterested and distinguished patriot 
 and sincere friend of liberty; but chiefly from his hav 
 ing been the benefactor of America, and having devoted 
 his fortune and his blood to establish its independence 
 and freedom, the acknowledged sources, from whence 
 flow the fertilizing streams of public and private pros 
 perity, which happily distinguish our country above all 
 others on earth. 
 
 General La Fayette constantly speaks of himself as 
 an American citizen, which it is well known he is; and 
 he hafc exhibited abundant proof that he takes as lively 
 and deep interest as any native citizen can do, in the 
 success of our institutions and the prosperity of the coun 
 try ; and it has even been supposed that he intends to 
 spend the remainder of his days here; but he has given 
 no such intimation, nor is it probable ; for however much 
 more interest he may feel, in the institutions, aad even 
 in the people of his adopted, than in those of his native 
 country, it is natural that he should wish to close the 
 evening of his life in the midst of his numerous descen 
 dants, and to leave his bones to repose with those of fate 
 ancestors. 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 OFFICERS PROIVI FOREIGN COUNTRIES 
 
 COMMISSIONED BY CONORESS*. 
 
 KOSCIUSKO, 
 
 THE American revolutionary contest is memorable, for having 
 called into its service the aid of many distinguished foreigners, 
 soldiers of liberty, and volunteers in the cause of an oppressed 
 people, struggling to defend their liberties. Among the most cel 
 ebrated of these, was Kosciusko, one of the first and bravest of 
 the Polish patriots. Although it does not appear that he performed 
 much, or any very important service, in the -American war, yet 
 from his distinguished character as a patriot, and the noble strug 
 gles he has made, in defence of the independence of his own 
 country, and to realize the last hopes of its friends, a sketch of his 
 life cannot but be interesting, and properly belongs to a work con 
 taining the memoirs of the military heroes of the American revo 
 lutionary war. This high-minded patriot was first distinguished 
 in the war which terminated in the first dismemberment of Poland 
 by Russia, Austria, and Prussia. 
 
 Poland had long been distracted with dissensions, often breaking 
 out into civil war; and particularly since the conquest of the coun 
 try by Charles XII. of Sweden, which led to the interference of 
 Russia, and afterward that dangerous neighbour always had a 
 strong party in Poland, and generally a ct)ntro41wig influerf^e. 
 Charles XII. conquered Augustus, and compelled him to abdicate 
 in favour of Stanislaus LeczinsJd, whom he had previously caused 
 to be elected king. The armies of the Czar, which Augustus had 
 availed himself of, had not been sufficient to save him from this 
 humiliating result. The battle of Pultowa overthrew the po\icr 
 of Charles; and Augustus was restored by the aid of Russia, the 
 latter taking care to be well paid for its friendly interference. 
 During the reign of this prince, and his son, Augustus II. Poland 
 was little better than a Russian province, surrounded by Russian 
 troops; and the country torn to pieces by contentions among the 
 jnobles, they were kept on the throne only by the power of Russia. 
 
 On the death of Augustus II. in 1764, Catharine II. Empress of 
 Russia, compelled the Diet to elect Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Pole 
 af noble rank, who had resided for some time at Petersburgh,and 
 
 B4 
 
588 KOSCI USKO. 
 
 made himself agreeable to the empress, who supposed that hfe 
 election would promote the influence and designs of Russia. Th* 
 increased the disorders, and inflamed the rage of the two great 
 parties, the Russian and anti-Russian, towards each other. At this 
 time, to their political causes of dissension, were added those of 
 religion. The protestants,who in Poland were called dissidents, 
 had long been tolerated, but still suffered under many civil disabil 
 ities, which were greatly increased by a decree that was passed 
 during the interregnum that preceded the election of Poniatowski- 
 They were, in a great measure, denied the free exercise of religious 
 worship, ami excluded from all political privileges. This unjust 
 nnd impolitic measure roused the spirit of the Protestants; they 
 petitioned and remonstrated ; they applied to the courts of Russia, 
 Prussia, Great Britain, and Denmark, all of which remonstrated 
 to the government of Poland, but without any essential effect. 
 Some unimportant concessions were made, which did not satisfy 
 the dissidents, who were determined to maintain their rights with 
 their blood, being encouraged to this determination by assurance 
 of support from Russia, Austria, and Prussia. The Catholics were 
 not behind their opponents in preparations for war, and the "Con 
 federation of theBarr" formed the bulwark of their strength and 
 hopes. With both parties, religion and liberty became the watch 
 word and a signal for war. The confederates, as the Catholics 
 were denominated, not only wished to overcome their opponents, 
 but to dethrone Stanislaus, and rescue the country from the influ 
 ence of Russia. This desperate civil war was very gratifying to 
 the ambitious neighbours of Poland, who, a considerable time be-* 
 fore, had entered into a secret treaty for the conquest and partition 
 of Poland. The armies of Russia, Prussia, and Austria invaded 
 the country in various directions, and seized on different provinces. 
 The confederates, or the anti-Russian party, comprising most oi- 
 the distinguished Polish patriots, made a resolute and determined 
 struggle; but, being feebly supported by Saxony and France, and 
 having to contend with numerous forces of the coalition which in 
 vaded the country, as well as those of their opponents at home, 
 they were defeated in every quarter, and the country left a prey 
 to the three royal plunderers. They issued a manifesto, declaring 
 that the dissensions and disorders of Poland had rendered their 
 interference necessary, and that they had adopted combined meas 
 ures for the re-establishment of good order in Poland, and the set 
 tlement of its ancient constitution, and to secure the national and 
 popular liberties of the people on a solid basis. But the security 
 and protection which they afforded to unhappy Poland, was like 
 that which the wolf affords to the lamb, and the tears they shed 
 over her misfortunes, were like those of the crocodile when prey 
 ing on its victim. Instead of securing .the rights of the dissidents, 
 which was the professed object of the war, the combined sovereigns 
 thought only of aggrandizing themselves; and, after great difficul- 
 
KOSCIUSKO, #89 
 
 ty, they finally succeeded in dividing the spoil, a treaty for the 
 partition of Poland being concluded at Petersburgh, in February, 
 1772, Russia took a large proportion of (he eastern provinces; Aus 
 tria appropriated to herself a fertile tract on the southwest, and 
 Prussia the commercial district in the northwest, including the 
 lower part of Vistula; leaving only the central provinces, compri 
 sing Warsaw and Cracow, the modern and ancient capital. Thus 
 was Poland despoiled by three royal robbers, which Europe wit 
 nessed, not without astonishment, but without any effectual 
 interference. The courts of London, Paris, Stockholm-, and Co 
 penhagen, remonstrated against this violent usurpation, which 
 probably had as much effect as was expected none at all. 
 
 In this unjust and cruel war, Kosciusko had taken an active and 
 zealous part in defence of the independence of his country; but 
 his patriotism and exertions were unavailing; the patriotic Poles 
 could not resist the power of faction and the invading armies of 
 thrte formidable neighbours. To strengthen their acquisition?, 
 the allied powers insisted on Stanislaus convoking a diet to sanction 
 the partition; and, notwithstanding the influence of three powerful 
 armies, the diet refused to ratify this injustice for a considerable 
 time; but, by promises of favours, and by profuse use of money 
 among the members, together with the influence of military force, 
 a majority of six in the senate, and of one in the assembly, was at 
 length obtained in favour of the iniquitous measure, and commis 
 sioners were appointed to adjust the terms of the partition. This 
 completed the humiliation and degradation of Poland, and occa 
 sioned many of her most distinguished patriots to leave their dis 
 membered and unhappy country. This took place in May, 1772. 
 Kosciusko was among those who retired from the country. 
 
 The war that broke out between the American colonies and 
 Great Britain, opened a field for military adventurers from Europe, 
 it being supposed that America was destitute of men of military 
 science and experience, and being justly regarded as a contest for 
 liberty, between an infant people, few in number, and with feeble 
 means, and the most powerful nation on earth, many patriots of 
 the old woiid repaired to America as volunteers in the cause of 
 freedom. The first events and successes of the contest, and the 
 dignified attitude assumed by the solemn declaration of indepen 
 dence, produced the most favourable impression abroad, which 
 brought many distinguished foreigners to our shores in the early 
 part of the year 1777. The distinguished Polish patriot, who is 
 the subject of this brief notice, and his countryman, Count Pulas- 
 Id, were among the number. It is not known at what time either 
 of them arrived, but it is believed it was early in the year 77, as 
 the latter was present and distinguished himself in the battle oi 
 Brandy wine. So many foreigners of distinction arrived, that Con 
 gress was embarrassed in giving them employment, corresponding 
 with tbeir expectations and rank; and, from the commissions 
 
09Q KOSC1USKO. 
 
 which were giren to foreigners, disagreeable jealousies. ivSTe pro 
 duced among the native officers of the continental army. Kosci- 
 usko, like the Marquis de la Fayette and others, had been influ 
 enced wholly by patriotic motives and an ardent attachment to 
 liberty, he had no occasion to acquire military fame, and he pos^ 
 sessed a soul which raised him infinitely above becoming a merce 
 nary soldier. He wanted neither rank nor emolument; his object 
 was to serve the cause, not to serve himself. He however received 
 a ColoneFs commission, and was employed under General Greene, 
 in the southern campaign of 81. In the attack on Ninety-Six, a 
 very strong post of the enemy in South Carolina, Kosciusko being 
 a skilful engineer, Greene intrusted to him the important duty of 
 preparing and constructing the works for the siege. He continued 
 in the service until after the capture of Cornwall!? at Yorktown. 
 which terminated all the important operations of the war. 
 
 On leaving America, Kosciusko returned to his native country, 
 where he exerted himself for the improvement of the political con 
 dition of his countrymen, and promoting the general prosperity. 
 Stanislaus exerted himself to impiovc what territory was left him 
 hy his friendly neighbours; a taste for agriculture was cherished, 
 the condition of the peasantry, who had been so long enslaved 
 and degraded, was raised, and a nationals ystem of education estab 
 lished. But the most important improvement was in the constitu 
 tion of the state. The disorders and factions which had so long 
 and so unhappily prevailed, had convinced all enlightened patriots, 
 that the existing constitution was the fertile source of their inter 
 nal dissensions; and that it was incompatible with the tranquillity 
 or prosperity of the country. After repeated attempts, the diet 
 \$ 1791, succeeded in establishing a new constitution, on just and 
 liberal principles, so wisely framed that Mr. Burke commended it, 
 "by saying, that the condition of all was made better, and the rights 
 of none infringed. 
 
 But the prosperity and hopes which these improvements were 
 calculated to afford, were soon dissipated. Poland was again 
 destined to become the victim of the "she bear" of the north. A 
 few of the nobles, disailected at the new constitution, which had 
 deprived them of some of their privileges, presented their com 
 plaints to the court of Petersburg!!, which, glad of a pretext fop 
 interfering in the affairs of Poland, immediately marched a nu 
 merous army into the country, for the ostensible object of re-es 
 tablishing the constitution of 1775?. But the real design? of Rus-.. 
 tiia were too apparent to be mistaken; and the Poles did not delay 
 in making preparations for hostilities. This base aggression, and 
 the remembrance of her former rapacity, aroused the nation to a 
 sense of its danger; all dissensions and animosities were forgotten 
 in the common struggle; a spirit worthy the occasion was excited, 
 and every class and rank were resolved to conquer or die in de- 
 of the independence and liberties of their country* 
 
KOSCIUSKO. 591 
 
 nobles presented their plate and valuable jewels to enrich the 
 treasury, and afford the means of carrying on the war. The 
 prince Poniatowski, nephew of the king, and Kosciusko, were at 
 the head of the armies, and displayed prodigies of valour. But 
 with all their exertions, bravery, and perseverance, they were 
 unable to resist the power of Russia, whose armies were almost 
 every where successful. And being threatened by the empress 
 with a devastation of the country, if he made further resistance, 
 and that she would double her present force, Stanislaus, to pre 
 vent further effusion of blood, surrendered at discretion, and was 
 conveyed to Grodno, to await the decision of the conqueror. 
 Neither the king nor the nation were long kept in suspense, for 
 soon the courts of Russia and Prussia promulgated a manifesto, 
 declaring their intention of annexing to their dominions several 
 of the adjoining provinces of Poland.^ This was early in the 
 year 1793. 
 
 Not satisfied with their former spoliations, the King of Prussia 
 and Empress of Russia resolved to lighten the burdens of govern 
 ment, which they believed too heavy for Stanislaus to sustain, by 
 a second partition of his kingdom. Accordingly the latter seized 
 on the country from the Dwina to the Neister; and assuming the 
 civil government of the territory, the inhabitants were ordered to 
 take the oath of allegiance to her Imperial Majesty, or abandon 
 the conquered district; and the King of Prussia, not to be behind 
 his ally in a neighbourly regard for Poland, wrested from it several 
 provinces, besides the cities of Dantzic and Thorn. These high 
 handed depredations were made with the assent of the Emperor 
 of Austria, and pretended to be necessary precautions against the 
 contagion ofjacobinal principles, which might otherwise infect 
 their dominions bordering on Poland. Again a diet was convoked, 
 and compelled, by military power, to sanction this second parti 
 tion of the Polish dominions* The Russian ambassador informed 
 the diet, "that to prevent any kind o.f disorder, he had caused two 
 battalions of grenadiers, with four pieces of cannon, to surround 
 the castle to secure the tranquility of their deliberations." But 
 although the country had been rent in pieces, the spirit of the 
 nation was not destroyed ; and as long as a particle remained, such 
 injustice and violence was calculated to call it into action. The 
 nation was roused, and the patriotism of the Polish nobles was 
 once more called forth. It was readily perceived that nothing 
 could be done withputa leader, and the eyes of all were directed 
 to Kosciusko, who had taken refuge in Saxony, with Potocki, Ko- 
 Jontay and Zajonzek. These four resoluta patriots rejoiced at 
 the spirit of resistance to oppression which was roused among 
 their countrymen, and were prepared to exert all their energies, 
 and to shed the last drop of their blood, for the independence and 
 freedom of their oppressed and much injured country. Zajonzek 
 was despatched to Warsaw, to learn the state of affairs, to confer 
 
592 KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 with the chief malecontents, and concert the plan oi operation^ 
 And in the mean time Kosciusko repaired to the frontiers, and 
 anxiously waited the result of this mission. It was determined to 
 make an attempt to rescue the country from the slavery of Russian 
 domination; but suspicions of the design having been excited, it 
 was thought advisable that no movements should be made at that 
 time, Kosciusko retired to Italy for greater safety, where he was 
 soon joined by Zajonzek, who had been banished from tlie Polish 
 territories as a promoter of sedition. He informed Kosciusko, 
 that his countrymen were ripe for a revolt, and that they wished to 
 have him appear without delay, as a more favorable opportunity 
 would not occur. The ambitious designs of Russia were no lon 
 ger concealed: the ambassador of the empress ordered the con 
 stitution of 1791 annulled, and the military force of Poland redu 
 ced to 16,000 men, thus intending to deprive the nation of all 
 power of resistance. The patriotic Mondalinski, placing himself 
 at their head, the troops were invincible, and refused to lay down 
 their arms. The spirit of resistance was spread through the coun 
 try, and the ardour of the nation roused to the highest pitch. The 
 Russians, to enforce their mandates, sent a numerous army into 
 the country, whose ruthless conduct drove the Poles to desperation. 
 The peasantry were compelled to feed, lodge, and convey their 
 enemies from place to place, without compensation, and thus to 
 become the instruments of enslaving their own country. This 
 severe and cruel treatment exasperated the public feeling, and 
 the spirit of revenge and resistance became inveterate and uni 
 versal. 
 
 At this time, the great patriot and hero to whom all looked as a 
 leader, appeared, and was immediately appointed generalissimo 
 of the patriot army, and chief of the confederacy. He took the 
 oath of fidelity to the nation, and of adherence to the act of insur 
 rection by which war was declared against the ruthless invaders 
 of the rights and independence of Poland. Like Washington, he 
 had conferred on him such ample powers, as, in the possession of 
 any other .man, would have ben a source of jealousy if not of 
 :rjeal danger; but his country had the most unbounded confidence 
 in Kosciusko, which was not misplaced. He issued a proclama 
 tion, containing an appeal to every rank and class of the people, to 
 rally round the standard of their country and of freedom, and to 
 break the chains which enslaved them, or perish in the attempt. 
 This appeal was not made in vain: he was soon surrounded by a 
 large number of armed peasantry; and the nobility having pro 
 claimed the constitution of 1791, departed to their respective 
 estates, to bring their vassals into the field. The Russians were 
 soon driven out of Cracow, which became the head-quarters of 
 the patriot army. A Russian force of 6,000 men marching to 
 ward Cracow, under General Wononzow, to attack the patriots, 
 was engaged by tireir brave leader, and defeated with the loss of 
 
KOSCIUSKO. 593 
 
 1000 men, and eleven pieces of cannon, and their general made 
 prisoner. This splendid success became the signal for general 
 hostilities, and had the most favorable influence. The Russian, 
 general, Igelstrom, attempted to make himself master of the arse 
 nal at Warsaw, but was resolutely repelled by the inhabitants, who 
 after a bloody contest of three days, drove the Russians from the 
 citv with the loss of more than fifteen hundred men. The enemy 
 retired to the camp of the Prussian general Wolki. 
 
 In other towns the inhabitants displayed similar bravery and 
 resolution, and in many their exertions wefre successful. These 
 successes served to inspire confidence, and to animate the most des 
 ponding; the whole country was soon in arms, and 60,000 troops 
 were in field, exclusive of the peasantry, who were armed with 
 pikes. These movements filled with astonishment the courts of 
 Petersburgh and Berlin, who had flattered themselves that Poland 
 was so far humbled, and the spirit of the nation so broken, that it 
 had no longer the power to make any resistance. Being exaspe 
 rated at this unexpected resistance, Catharine and Frederick made 
 great exertions to overcome the insurgents, as they called them, 
 and to defend the country they had forcibly annexed to their own 
 dominions. These two powers marched 1 10,000 men into Poland, 
 all regular and well-disciplined troops, which gave them a decided 
 superiority. Kosciusko, however, made a skilful retreat upon 
 Warsaw, where he was besieged by a large Prussian army. He 
 defended the place for ten weeks, when, after sustaining a loss of 
 20,000 men, the Prussian commander was obliged to raise the 
 siege and retire to his own territories. During: this siege, the Rus 
 sians had overrun Lithuania and Volhynia; and Kosciusko being 
 at liberty, matched to oppose them. The eyes of Europe and 
 America were fixed on him, as this was justly viewed as the last 
 struggle of an oppressed but brave people; all who loved liberty, 
 or regarded justice, felt an ardent desire for their success: and 
 from the noble spirit which pervaded the nation, and from the vic 
 tories which had been achieved, great hopes were entertained. 
 These, however, were too soon found to be fallacious; fortune did 
 not favour the patriot chief, and Poland was destined to fall never 
 to rise again, and to be erased from the map of nations. Koscuisko 
 and his brave companions in arms, fighting for their liberty, the 
 independence of their country, the safety of their wives and chil 
 dren, displayed feats of bravery and determined perseverance, 
 worthy of the sacred cause in which they were engaged, with thr 
 disciplined but ferocious barbarians of the north. 
 
 After some less important operations, a great battle was fought 
 at Matchevitz, on the 19th of October, (1794,) in which Koscitisko 
 was defeated, and bis brave patriot army almost annihilated. 
 The Russian general, Baron de Fersen, on learning that Kosciusko 
 expected to be joined by Poniski, resolved tp attack him be/ore a 
 junction could be effected. The action commenced before light* 
 
KOSCIUSKO, 
 
 and contincd to rage until past midday; the patriots, animated by 
 the example of their intrepid chief, faught like men determined to 
 conquer or die, and the latter, dreadful alternative, was the un 
 happy fate of a large portion of these brave men ; 6000 lay dead 
 on the field, and nearly 2000 were wounded or captured. Their 
 intrepid leader was wounded and made prisoner. He was advan 
 cing a few steps after he received his wound, when a Cossack ap 
 proached arid aimed at him a dreadful blow, which would inevita 
 bly have proved fatal, had not a Russian officer, whose wife had 
 been a prisoner to Kosciusko, and been treated with great kind 
 ness by him, interposed and stopped the blow. The prostrate hero, 
 however, not wishing to survive the fall of his country, requested 
 the officer, if he really wished to do him a kindness, to permit the 
 soldier to put an end to his existance. But he was made a priso 
 ner, conveyed to Petersburg!), and there confined in a fortress. 
 The last vial of wrath was poured out on Poland, and her fate waV 
 irrevocably scaled; 
 
 "Oh! bloodiest picture in the book of time* 
 Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime, 
 Found not a generous friend, apilyiug foe, 
 Strength in her arms, or meflcy in her wo; 
 Dropp d from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear. 
 Clos d her bright eye and curb d her high career; 
 Hope for a season bade the world farewell, 
 And freedom shriek d as Kosciusko fell." 
 
 The whole country was now in the possession of the Russian* 
 and Prussians, except Warsaw, where the troops of the invaders 
 were marching to beseige it. The brave Poles, "few but undis 
 mayed, consisting of not more than 10,000 men, were determined 
 to make a desperate resistance, and to sell their lives as dear as 
 possible. As soon as the Russian army reached the suburb of 
 Prague, they erected during the nijrht several batteries, aYid a 
 furious assult was then commenced. The two first divisions, after 
 suffering severely from a vigorous fire of the inhabitants for more 
 than eight hours, at length overcoming all obstacles, rushed into 
 the place, pursued the routed foe through the streets, slaughtered 
 about 2000 of them, and drove 1000 into the Vistula. The en 
 trenchments were every where forced, and the streets filled with 
 dead; a regiment of Jews having made an obstinate defence, were 
 nearly all killed; the fugitives being pursued to the river, which 
 stopped their flight, several thousands were massacred. Not sat- 
 fsfied with the slaughter of the battle, about ten hours afterward, 
 flie ruthless and infamous Suwarrow, the Kengis-Khan of modern 
 times, ordered the city set on fire, and delivered the inhabitants up 
 to plunder and massacre. No age, sex, or condition, was spared, 
 but all were c-ilike exposed to the brutal violence of a ferocious 
 Soldierv. and were involved in orte commofi ruin. More than 
 
COUNT PULASKI. 595 
 
 i a,000 persons were killed or drowned, and about the same num 
 ber were made prisoners; a majority of whom were soon after 
 released. Humanity weeps over this horrid scene and Christian 
 ity blushes that such savage monsters should assume her name. 
 
 King Stanislaus was again taken to Grodno, and compelled to 
 resign his crown, and from thence was removed to Petersburg!], 
 where he -remained a prisoner until his death. As Russia and 
 Prussia were afcout dividing the spoil, Austria suddenly stepped 
 in and demanded a share; and unwilling to incur her displeasure, 
 and as stolen property is always valued rather lightly, they con 
 cluded to gratify her in her wishes, and the remaining territories 
 of Poland were devided among the three royal robbers. All the 
 patriotic associates of Kosciusko shared the same fate as their 
 leader; they were imprisoned at Petersburg!!, and in other for 
 tresses, where they remained until the accession of Paul, in 179&. 
 He showed great liberality to the persecuted Poles, and set most 
 of them at liberty. Kosciusko was among the number, he being 
 permitted either to remain in the Russian dominions, or to emigrate 
 to America. He preferred to retire to the country of freedom, 
 which he had assisted in its struggle for its independence, and not 
 long afterward came to the United States. 
 
 VVe are not informed how lorg he remained heie; but he had 
 returned to Europe previously to the last mighty struggle between 
 France and the allied powers, and in 1815, when the armies of 
 the latter entered Paris, he was residing in that capital. He wi.s 
 sought out by the Polish soldiers, who regarding him as the great 
 patriot of their country, and remembering his toils, exertions, and 
 sacrifices in defence of its independence, and to redeem its fading 
 glory, could not sufficiently express their gratitude and veneration 
 for him, then weighed down with years and sufferings, yet illustri 
 ous in his misfortunes. He died soon after in France, at an ad 
 vanced age; and since, his remains have been removed from a 
 foreign grave, and deposited in the cemetery of the kings of Po 
 land, at Cracow, where they repose with those of the great So- 
 bieski. A monument of Carpathian marble has recently been 
 erected to the memory of Kosciusko, on the summit of Mount Sf. 
 Bronislaway, in the neighbourhood of Cracow. The Emperor 
 Alexander has since caused the remains of Stanislaus Poniatowski 
 to be removed from Petersburg!!, where he died in 1798, to the 
 s>ame cemetery. 
 
 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 COUNT PULASKI, a distinguished patriot of Poland, and a parfl- 
 zan warrior; he was one of the distinguished foreigners, who 
 during our revolutionary struggle came to America, as a soldier of 
 liberty, to assist in fighting the battles of freedom. He had sig- 
 
 C4 
 
596 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 nalized his patriotism and valour in the disastrous war in which hi* 
 country was engaged in 1772, which terminated in the first dismem 
 berment of Poland. This unhappy war originated from internal 
 dissension, occasioned by an unjust and impolitic decree respecting 
 the privileges of the Protestants in Poland, called the dissidents. 
 Having petitioned and remonstrated in vain, the dissidents, being 
 encouraged by Russia, Prussia, and Austria, were resolved to ap 
 peal to the sword for the defence of their rights.. A civil war 
 was thus commenced, which afforded an occasion for the ambitious 
 and rapacious neighbours of Poland to interfere, and as the pre 
 tended allies of one of the contending parties, invade the country. 
 This unjust invasion aroused the spirit of the nation, and active 
 preparations were made to defend the country. The anti-Russian 
 party, consisting principally of the Catholics, were called the con 
 federates; and the other party, comprising the adherents of Rus 
 sia, acted in concert with the troops of the allies. The original 
 cause of the contest was changed; and it became really a struggle 
 between the Russian and the anti-Russian parties, the former 
 being supported by the troops of the allies, and the latter feebly 
 assisted by Saxony and France. Some time previous to the 
 breaking out of this war, Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Polish noble 
 man of high rank and distinction, had been elected king of Poland 
 by the influence of Russia. The confederates, or the anti-Rus 
 sian party, were jealous of him, considering him as being subser 
 vient to the court of Petersburg!!, and believing that he was se 
 cretly in favour of the malecontents, who had invited foreign 
 armies into the country, and were acting with them in carrying on 
 hostilities. From these views, it became a great object with the 
 confederates, to depose Stanislaus and crush the Russian faction, 
 and rescue the country from the influence of that dangerous 
 neighbour. 
 
 Among the ardent partizans and leaders of the confederates, 
 was count Pulaski. By him, and other distinguished Poles, be 
 longing to the anti-Russian association, it was Relieved that Poland 
 could never be safe nor tranquil, until it was rescued from the par 
 alyzing influence of Russia. And regarding the king, (although 
 as subsequent events proveJ, rather unjustly,) as subservient to 
 that power, Pulaski conceived and planned the hold enterprise of 
 seizing the king, and conveying him to the camp of the confeder 
 ates. Matters having been arranged for the execution of this 
 daring achieverrrent, Kosinski, and other members of the anti-Rus 
 sian association, who were intrusted with its execution, surprised 
 and seized the king at Warsaw, although surrounded by a numer 
 ous body of guards, and conveyed him into a neighbouring forest. 
 But his expostulations and entireties had such an effect on KosinSki 
 that he released him, and saved him from farther violence, he hav 
 ing been wounded by the assailants. The king was so exaspera 
 ted, that he declared Pulaski an outlaw. 
 
COUNT PULASKI. 597 
 
 Bat the confederates receiving little or no assistance from France 
 or S ixoriy; and the combined powers, bent on the conquest of the 
 country, filling it with their troops, the contest resulted as might 
 have b^en expected, from the unequal means of the belligerent 
 parties. The brave Poles were almost every where defeated, and 
 the numerous armies of the combined powers overcame all resist 
 ance, arid made themselves masters of the country. Their un 
 principled designs were no longer disguised: but they openly 
 avowed their intention of seizing on a considerable portion of thi 
 conquered country,, and dividing the spoil among themselves. A 
 treaty to this effect having been signed on the 2d of February, 
 1772, they immediately ordered the Poles to convoke a diet, and 
 sanction this violent dismemberment, under a threat of subjecting 
 the country to military execution, and treating it as a conquered 
 state. By these violent measures, a majority of the diet was con 
 strained to sanction such injustice and rapacity. 
 
 Many, however, .of the noble-minded Poles, rather than to be 
 the unwilling instruments of bringing their country to ruin, prefer 
 red exile and poverty; and to avoid witnessing the degradation of 
 their native land, sought an asylum abroad. Among this number 
 were count Pulaski, and the illustrious Kosciusko. 
 
 War breaking out two years after, between the American colo 
 nies and the parent country, this struggle of an infant people with 
 their powerful oppressors, excited the sympathies of the friends 
 of liberty throughout Europe, and invited many patriots to our 
 shores, who volunteered their services in the glorious cause. Pu 
 laski and Kosciusko were among the number: they arrived, it is 
 believed, early in the year 1777. Pulaski, who had been an expe 
 rienced cavalry officer at home, had a command given him in the 
 light-horse. He was first engaged in the battle of the Brandywine, 
 in which the young Marquis de La Fayette, and many other for 
 eigners, were employed. Count Pulaski, who commanded a party 
 of horse, sustained his high reputation for courage; his activity 
 and exertions were conspicuous throughout the engagement, and 
 he was particularly noticed by the commander in chief, as having 
 distinguished himself. And congress were so much gratified with 
 his conduct and promise of usefulness in that branch of the service 
 in which he was employed, that they a few days afterward appoint 
 ed him a brigadier general, and commander of the horse. He 
 continued with the army in Pennsylvania, during the remainder 
 of the campaign in 1777. Early the next year, when Baron Steu- 
 ben was appointed inspector general, and great exertions were 
 made by Washington to improve the discipline, and effect a radical 
 reform in the army, Count Pulaski was empowered to raise an 
 independent legion; which he afterward accomplished, and or 
 ganized and disciplined his men in an excellent manner. In the 
 fall of this year, he was unfortunately surprised by a party of the 
 enemy, and sustained considerable loss. Captain Ferguson, hav- 
 
COUNT PULASKf. 
 
 ing returned to Egg-Harbour, from a predatory incursion, there 
 obtained information of some deserters from Pulaski s legion, of 
 the situation of that corps, which induced him to attempt to sur 
 prise and attack it. Accordingly Ferguson, with about two hun 
 dred and fifty men, embarked in barges in the night, and landed 
 near where a part of Pulaski s legion was quartered, who, being 
 asleep, and wholly unprepared and unsuspicious of danger, were 
 fallen upon, and about fifty of them massacred, including several 
 officers of distinction. Pulaski, having rallied his men as soon as 
 he could, made an attempt to cut off this party, which immediately 
 retreated, but without success. 
 
 In January, 1779, General Lincoln having been appointed to the 
 command of the southern department, Count Pulaski s light-horse 
 were ordered to the south. After the shameful flight of General 
 Ashe, the British, under General Prevost, obtained possession of 
 the whole state of Georgia. The appointment about this time of 
 John Rutledge governor of South Carolina, clothed with ample 
 powers, produced a favourable effect, and soon changed the gloomy 
 aspect of affairs. Lincoln, finding himself at the head of 5000 
 men, again resolved to act on the offensive. He once more crossed 
 the Savannah River, and took such a position as would enable him 
 to intercept the supplies of the enemy, from the back parts of 
 Georgia; leaving General Moultrie, with 1000 men, at the Black 
 Swamp. Count Pulaski s legion of light-horse, formed a part of 
 the force under Lincoln. The American general had no sooner 
 made this movement, than the British commander determined to 
 penetrate into South Carolina. Having collected a force of 3000 
 men, he crossed the river in several places, and traversing swamps 
 that had been deemed impassable, appeared so unexpectedly, that 
 the militia under General Moultric made very little resistance, 
 and retreated towards Charleston. The British general, who at 
 rirst probably intended his movement only as a feint, to draw Lin 
 coln back from his expedition,, emboldening by this success, resolv 
 ed to push on to the capital of South Carolina. He accordingly 
 marched in pursuit o r the retreating militia, and coming up with 
 Colonel Laurens, who had been left with a party to defend a bridge, 
 after a sharp conflict for some time, in which Laurens was wound 
 ed, compelled the Americans to retire, and continued his march, 
 tjou. Lincoln, judging that the movement of Prevost wa^ only a 
 feint to draw him hick, despatched Colonel Harris, with 300 con 
 tinentals, to reinforce Moultrie, and continued his march towards 
 the capital of Georgia; but three days after, being convinced that 
 the British general meditated a serious attack upon Charleston, 
 Lincoln turned about and retraced his steps. Count Pulaski s 
 legion of light troops, were immediately ordered on to join Gen. 
 Moultrie, who moved with such rapidity, that they came up 
 with him before he reached Charleston, and, in conjunction with 
 parties of militia, made repeated stands on the retreat, and skij- 
 
cbUNT FULASKI. 599 
 
 mishcd with the advance guard of the enemy, which seemed to 
 check their march. Gen. Moultrie and Colonel Harris reached 
 Charleston on the 9th of May ; and governor Rutledge, with a body 
 of militia, which had been stationed at Orangeburg as a reserve, 
 on the 10th; Pulaski arrived with his legion on the llth; and on 
 the same day, near one thousand of the enemy came up, crossed 
 the ferry of Ashley River, an-d advanced towards the town. 
 
 Pulaski immediately conceived a plan to draw the enemy into 
 an ambuscade ; as soon as they approached, he marched at the 
 head of a single company of infantry, and posted them behind a 
 small breastwork which had previously been thrown up in a valley, 
 witli orders to remain concealed; he then returned, and placing 
 himself at the head of a small party of horse, sallied out and ad- 
 Tcuiced a mile beyoi.d the concealed infantry, with a view to draw 
 the enemy s cavalry into action, intending after a slight skirmish to 
 retreat, and thus draw the enemy s cavalry within the reach of 
 the concealed infantry. But the object was defeated by the ar 
 dour of the infantry; disregarding their orders, they rushed out 
 from behind the breastwork, to join in the attack, in consequence 
 of wnich, being inferior in numbers to the British, Pulaski was 
 obliged to retreat. The enemy pressed hard upon them, but they 
 were met and resisted in the most intrepid manner by Pulaski, 
 whose example animated his men to deeds of heroism, worthy of 
 their brave leader. After this, several skirmishes during the day 
 and succeeding night occurred, between the cavalry of the two 
 hostile parties, in all of which Pulaski s legion, led on by their 
 intrepid chief, displayed a coolness ajid bravery which has seldom 
 been surpassed, and which reflected great honour on their gallant 
 commander, whose exertions and example stimulated his brave 
 men to noble deeds. Perhaps a braver man than Pulaski never 
 drew a sword; during these various encounters, he was repeatedly 
 engaged in single combat with individuals of the enemy, and 
 sometimes with fearful odds. In the mean time, the troops with 
 in the town, and the inhabitants of all ages and both sexes, were 
 actively employed in strengthening their defences. 
 
 On the next day, the 12th, the town was summoned to surrender, 
 and although the conditions offered were considered favourable, 
 they were not accepted, and the negotiation was protracted 
 through the day, by which means further time was obtained for 
 improving the means of defending the city. On the 13th, a most 
 extraordinary proposition was submitted to the British commander^ 
 which was that the whole state would remain neutral during the 
 war, and its ultimate destiny to depend on the peace. If any thing 
 could exceed the pusillanimity and folly of this proposition, it wag 
 the conduct of General Prevostin refusing to accept it, and imme 
 diately breaking up his camp and retreating, without farther nego 
 tiation, or making any attempt upon the town. 
 
600 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 General Lincoln pursued the enemy to Stono-Ferrey, where on 
 the 20th of June, he attacked a part of Prevost s force, under 
 Col. Maitland, and sustained a sharp conflict for an hour and a 
 half with great advantage, when the enemy receiving a reinforce 
 ment, the Americans were compelled to retire, and being hard 
 pressed with fresh troops, considerable confusion ensued, at which 
 juncture Pulaskrs horse charged the enemy with such gallantry 
 and spirit as checked their advance, and enabled Mason s Virginia 
 brigade to move up and cover the retreat. 
 
 In the unfortunate siege of Savannah, Count Pulaski was enga 
 ged with his legion, and displayed his accustomed activity and 
 valour, which however proved latal, and terminated his military 
 and earthly career. The unexpected appearance of the French 
 fleet on the American coast, alarmed the British forces in Georgia; 
 On the 13th of September, 1779, the Count D Estaing landed 
 3,000 men at Beaulieu, which, on the 15th were joined by Count 
 Pulaski with his legion; but the rest of the troops under General 
 Lincoln, from the difficulties of the route, did not arrive until the 
 16th, when the allied armies united in front of the town of Savan 
 nah. Previously to this, Count D Estaing had appeared with his 
 fleet before the town, and summoned the garrison to surrender. 
 General Prevost artfully replied by requesting a truce for four- 
 and-twenty hours to adjust the terms of capitulation; his only object, 
 however, being to obtain time to strengthen his works and means 
 of defence. This repuest unfortunately was granted, and the 
 time was employed by the besieged, in the most active exertions; 
 and within the time, General Prevost was reinforced by the arrival 
 of his outposts, which increased his force one-third. At the close 
 of the truce, Prevost informed the count that he should defend 
 himself to the last extremity. On the 23d, the allied armies broke 
 ground for the siege, and proceeded in their work with great activ 
 ity. In ten days, more than fifty pieces of battering cannon and 
 fourteen mortars were mounted; which were opposed by nearly 
 one hundred of different sizes, and on the fourth of October, a 
 tremendous fire was commenced upon the town. After the batte 
 ries had played on the town for several days without much effect. 
 Count D Estaing being anxious about the safety of his fleet, if the 
 siege should be prolonged, proposed to change the plan of opera 
 tions, and make an attempt upon the town by storm. This Lincoln 
 was obliged to agree to, as otherwise the count threatened to aban 
 don the siege altogether. Unfortunately, information of the in 
 tended assault was conveyed to Prevost, by rin officer who deserted 
 from the Charleston volunteers, which enabled him to prepare for 
 it. Savannah is protected from an attack by land by the river on 
 one side, and a deep morass on the other, extending parallel with 
 the river in the rear of the town. The assault was made on the 
 morning of the 9th, before daylight, by two columns, on the ene 
 my s right ; on/j commanded by Count D Estaing and Gen.. Lincoln 
 
BARON DE KALB. 601 
 
 5n concert, and the other by count Dillon. The former moved along 
 the margin of the morass, covered by the darkness, to within a 
 short distance of the enemy s line, when their concealed batteries 
 being unmasked, a destructive fire was opened upon them, which 
 made great havoc. Undismayed by this slaughter, the column 
 continued to advance, and D Estaing and Lincoln forced the abbat- 
 is,and placed their standards on the parapet; at this time had the 
 other column came up, the assault would have succeeded^ and the 
 possess on of the enemy s works been certain ; but Count Dillon 
 unfortunately lost his way in the darkness, and failed in affording 
 the expected co-operation. At this crisis, Colonel Maitland made 
 a vigorous attack on the brave soldiers who had planted their 
 standards on the parapet, who were forced into the ditch, the flags 
 torn down, arid the whole column compelled to retire through the 
 abbatis. This disastrous result of the attack, would probably 
 have been avoided, but for the fatal termination of the gallant ca 
 reer of the brave Pulaski. At the moment Colonel Maitland, with 
 his own corps united with the marines and grenadiers, under Lieut. 
 Colonel Glazier, pushed forward to attack the assailants, Pulaski 
 perceiving the danger to which the allied column was placed, 
 made a bold effort at the head of two hundred horse, to force his 
 way through the enemy s works and gain the rear of Maitland, 
 which would have placed that brave and skilful officer in a critical 
 situation, and in all probability have changed the fate of the day; 
 but whilst advancing at the head of his men, exposed to the most 
 tremendous fire, the intrepid Pulaski received a mortal wound, 
 ana* fell from his horse. The fall of their heroic leader stoppecj 
 the progress of the squadron, and they immediately retreated. He 
 lived two days, and expired on the 1 1th of October, 1779. Thus 
 fell in a most bold and daring achievement, the distinguished Po 
 lish patriot and hero, in the cause of American liberty: his mem 
 ory is entitled to our veneration, as his life forms an item in the 
 price of our independence. Soon after congress resolved, that a 
 monument should be erected to his memory; but this paper statue, 
 and the heroic deeds of a bold and adventurous life, constitute the 
 only monument that has been erected to his memory, or which 
 serves to perpetuate his fame. 
 
 BARON DE KALB, 
 
 Mtijor-General in the American Army. 
 
 BARON DE KALB was a native of Germany ; but, having long been 
 employed in the service of France, previous to the commencement 
 of the American revolution, he possessed the character of a French 
 officer, if not of a French citizen, when he came to the United 
 States. He arrived here in 1777, and being an officer of great 
 experience, and undoubted courage, he received the cqmmisstono! 
 
BARON DE KALB. 
 
 major general from congress. Early in the year following, he wts 
 selected as one of the officers in the expedition, which had been 
 planned against Canada, and proceeded to Albany to i n^age in 
 the enterprise, the command of which was intrusted to the young 
 Marquis de La Fayette; but the preparations being wholly inade 
 quate, the expedition was abandoned. Generals Conway and 
 Stark were also to havejoined in the enterprise. 
 
 In the summer of 1780, after the surrender of Charleston, and 
 the submission of the whole of South Carolina to the royal author 
 ity, and all resistance in that quarter had nearly ceased, the Baron 
 de Kalb was ordered by congress to the south, to revive a spirit of 
 "resistance, arxd arrest, if possible, the prevailing fortunes of the 
 victorious enemy. The situation of the southern states, at this 
 time, was truly alarming; Georgia and South Carolina were con 
 quered, and North Carolina was quiet, and apparently overawed; 
 and congress felt the necessity of directing their attention, in a 
 particular manner, to that quarter, and of making every possible 
 effort to retrieve their fallen fortunes, in that department of the 
 war. The ordering of Baron de Kalb, at this time, to that station, 
 is a strong evidence of the confidence congress reposed in his 
 talents. General Gates, whose reputation at this time was per 
 haps second to that of no officer, except the commander in chief, 
 was appointed to the chief command in the southern department; 
 and great hopes were indulged from the exertions of two such 
 distinguished generals. Baron de Kalb arrived at Hillsborough 
 in North Carolina, at the head of two thousand continentals, 
 consisting of the Maryland and Delaware lines. His approach 
 revived the despondent hopes, and animated the drooping .spirits 
 of the inhabitants; the militia flocked to his standard from North 
 Carolina and Virginia, and were soon organized and prepared to 
 join him on his march. He had not proceeded far, before he was 
 overtaken by General Gates, who assumed the chief command; 
 and this increased the joy which had already been excited, and 
 produced sanguine hopes of a successful campaign. The aspect 
 of affairs was at once changed; the gloom of despondency was* 
 succeeded by the brightning rays of high expectation?; which 
 counteracted the effect of the proclamations of Clinton and 
 Cornwallis, and brought many to the American standard, who a 
 short time before had exchanged their paroles for the oath of 
 allegiance. 4 
 
 Gen. Gates, relying on these favourable circumstances, and not 
 sufficiently cautioue, seemed only desirous of meeting the. enemy. 
 He changed the route, which the prudence of the B iron de Kalb 
 had selected, leading through a district which afforded abundant 
 supplies for the troops, and pursued a nearer route, but which led 
 through a barren country scarcely settled, and where no provis 
 ions could be obtained, but green corn and unripe fruits. This 
 occasioned a fatal sickness, of which many died, and more became 
 
BARON DE KALB. 603 
 
 unfit for duty; and the horses also suffered for the want of forage, which 
 rendered them of little use: General Gates moved to Lynch s Creek, 
 which alone separated him from Lord Rawdon, when the latter immedi 
 ately retreated to Camden, and despatched intelligence of the approach of 
 the American army to Cornwallis. General Gates moved on to Rudgley s 
 Mills, where he halted and encamped. Here being informed by General 
 Sumpter, that a party of the enemy were on their way, with stores for the 
 army at Camden, and that with a detachment of artillery he could inter 
 cept them, Gates ordered Colonel Woolford, with four hundred men and 
 two field-pieces to his aid. General Gates was joined here by General 
 Stevens, with several hundred Virginia militia; and although he had weak 
 ened his force by detaching Colonel Woolford, he still prepared to march 
 to Camden, and seemed to suppose that Lord Rawdon would retreat at 
 his approach, as he had done at Lynch s Creek ; and he was entirely igno- 
 Kant of Lord Cornwallis s arrival. 
 
 The very night that Gates moved from Rudgley s Mills, Cornwallis 
 marched from Camden, with the intention of surprising him in his posi 
 tion. The advanced guards of the two armies met on the morning of 
 the 16th, some hours before dawn of light. Armond s squadron of cav 
 alry, which was in advance, was immediately thrown back in confusion 
 on the Maryland regiment, which occasioned some disorder; but the light 
 infantry, which flanked the army, opposed the advance of the enemy s 
 van, and this first apprized the two generals of the proximity of their 
 armies. Neither being willing to risk an action in the dark, both immedi 
 ately halted and prepared for action. The situation, which was the result 
 of accident, and not of choice on either side, was precisely what the ene 
 my desired, as the deep swamps, on both sides, prevented the Americans 
 from presenting a more extended line than the enemy, which, from their 
 superior numbers, they might have done, would the ground have admitted 
 of it. There were about 2,000 of the British, and about 3,700 Americans, 
 of which, however, one thousand only were continentals. The enemy 
 were drawn up in one line, extending across the whole ground, and flanked 
 by the swamps on both sides. Colonel Webster was stationed on the right, 
 and Lord Rawdon on the left; in front of the line, the artillery, with four 
 field-pieces, were posted ; the reserve were posted at two stations in the 
 rear, near the centre of each wing, at each of which was one six pounder; 
 and the cavalry occupied the road in the rear, which, with the reserve, 
 formed the second line. General Gates changed the first disposition of 
 his troops; the second Maryland brigade and the Delaware regiment were 
 posted on the right, under General Gist: the centre was occupied by Gen. 
 Caswell, with the North Carolina militia; and the Virginia militia, com 
 manded by Gen. Stevens, were placed on the left, being opposed to the 
 best troops of the enemy. The artillery was divided among the several 
 brigades; and the first Maryland brigade, under General Smalhvood, form 
 ed the reserve. The line of battle was intrusted to the Baron de Kalb, 
 who was ppsted on the right, great reliance being placed on his experience 
 and known intrepidity; he was to watch the movements of the whole 
 line, and direct his exertions where circumstances might indicate. Gen. 
 Gates was stationed in the road, between the reserve and the front line. 
 
 The action was commenced by a vigorous attack on the American left, 
 oy the enemy s ri"ht, which were their best troops: this was immediately 
 
 D4 
 
604 BAftON DE KALB. 
 
 followed by the discharge of artillery from our centre, and the action wae 
 soon commenced along the whole line. The Virginia militia on our left, 
 unable to stand the vigorous assault of the British veterans, after one fire 
 threw down their arms and fled ; and their pernicious example was imme 
 diately folhnved by the North Carolina brigade in our centre; and all tire 
 exertions of their officers, and of General Gates in person, to rally them, 
 was ineffectual : filled with consternation, they continued their cowardly 
 flight until they reached a place of safety. The centre of the American 
 line being thus broken, the right, consisting of the Maryland brigade and 
 Delaware regiment, led by the gallant de Kalb, had to sustain the whole 
 Jforceof the action. De Kalb and Gist were pushing on with decided ad 
 vantage, at the time the militia gave way, which stopped their advance, 
 and brought the whole fire of the enemy upon them; animated by their 
 brave leader, they resolutely sustained this unequal contest for a consider 
 able time, and until all the other troops had retreated : several times were 
 the enemy s van driven in with loss. General Smallwood, with the first 
 Maryland brigade, which had formed the reserve, advanced and took the 
 place of the fugitives on the left, which exposed him to the whole corps of 
 Webster s veterans, on the enemy s right. The shock was too heavy for 
 militia; three times was General Smallwcod compelled to give way, 
 and with determined valour three times did he return to the charge, and 
 would probably have maintained his ground had not the remaining regi 
 ment of North Carolina militia, which for some time seemed resolved to 
 retrieve the disgrace of their countrymen, finally gave way, which com 
 pelled Smalhvood s regiment to retire in some disorder from so unequal 
 and destructive a contest. This left the right the second time exposed to 
 the whole force of the ei;my. Few, but undismayed, the brave continen 
 tals, animated by the heroic conduct of their chief, made a determined 
 effort to sustain the honour of the field alone. From the vast superiority 
 of the enemy, their fire was heavy and destructive, and couid not be re 
 turned with the same effect; De Kalb, therefore, placed his last hopes on 
 the baynoet, and, making a desperate charge, drove the enemy before him 
 with considerable advantage. But at this time, Cornwallis, perceiving 
 that the American cavalry had left the field, ordered Colonel Tarleton to 
 charge with his cavalry; and, having concentrated his whole force, the 
 cliarge was made with the usual impetuosity of that daring officer. This 
 was decisive of the desperate conflict, and fatal to the gallant officer who 
 is the subject of this brief notice. Fatigued from their long and arduous 
 efforts, the heroic continentals, who had sustained almost the whole bur 
 den of the day, were unable to withstand the charge; and their gallant 
 leader, who was himself a host, having fallen, they were compelled to 
 leave a field which they had so honourably defended, and seek safety by 
 flight. The victory, and the dispersion of the Americans, was complete; 
 and the fugitives were pursued for more than twenty miles. The troops 
 under De Kalb, on the right, suffered as might be supposed, most severe 
 ly; the Delaware regiment was nearly destroyed, two companies only be 
 ing left, and more than one-third of the continentals were killed and 
 wounded. 
 
 Perhaps no officer ever exerted himself more, in a single action, thai.) 
 did the Baron deKalb on this occasion; he did all that man could do to 
 retrieve the fortune of the day, exposing himself to constant and imminent 
 
BARON DE STEUBENV 605 
 
 Danger. He received eleven wounds in the course of the action ; but kept 
 his post, and continued his exertions until the last, which proved mortal. 
 As he fell, his aid, Lieutenant-Colonel de Buysson , caught him in his 
 arms, to save him from the uplifted bayonets of< the enemy, which he 
 warded off by receiving them in his own body. In his last moments the 
 Baron dictated a letter to General Snaallwood, who succeeded to his com 
 mand, expressing a warm affection for the Americans and the cause in 
 which they were engaged, and his admiration of the conduct of the troops 
 under his immediate command, whose bravery and firmness, in so unequal 
 a contest, lie said, had called forth the commendation even of the enemy; 
 and concluded by expressing the satisfaction he felt in having fallen in the 
 defence of the independence and liberties of America, a cause so dear to 
 the lovers of liberty and the friends of humanity, in Europe as well as 
 America. He survived only a few days: an ornamental tree was planted 
 at the head of his grave, near Camden, and congress, duly sensible of his 
 menls, passed a resolution directing a monument to be erected to his 
 memory, with very honourable inscriptions, at Annapolis, in Maryland; 
 but the resolution, it is believed, has never been carried into effect, and the 
 gratitude and plighted faith of the nation both remain unredeemed. He 
 was in the forty-eight year of his age; most of his life had been spent in 
 military employments, and the last three years in America, with distin 
 guished reputation. 
 
 BARON DE STEUBEN, 
 
 Major General in the American Army. 
 
 FKEIXERICK WILLTAM STEUBEN, was a native of Prussia ? and born in 
 die year 1735. Being designed for the profession of arms, he received a 
 military education, and was early engaged in military employments. His 
 military science, undoubted bravery, and assiduous attention to duty, did 
 not escape the penetration of the great Frederick ; and soon procured for 
 the young Baron the confidence of his sovereign, and the most honourable 
 preferment. For many years, he served in the memorable campaigns of 
 his sovereign, the greatest commander of the age, with distinguished rep 
 utation. This was a school, in which the dullest could hardly fail of ac 
 quiring experience and knowledge in the art of war; and at the same time 
 opened a field, sufficiently capacious for the most ardent aspirant for mili 
 tary fame. The war, which was terminated by the peace of 1763, in 
 which France, Austria, Russia, Sweden, and Saxony were united against 
 Prussia, and which was commenced on the part of the allies, for the con 
 quest and spoliation of the dominions of his Prussian majesty, afforded 
 the boldest and most successful campaigns, and the most splendid victo- 
 ries, of any in modern times. The exertions of the king of Prussia, in 
 sustaining himself, with the assistance of Great Britain, as his ally, against 
 so many, and so powerful enemies, was truly astonishing. But his active 
 genius overcame all difficulties, taught his enemies to respect him, and 
 secured to him a military reputation, not second to any commander of the 
 age. To have served with this great general, in his memorable campaigns, 
 and taken a part in such great and splendid victories as those of Prague, 
 Lissa, Crevelt, Zoondorff, Mincjen ; an,d Torgau, was sufficient to confer 
 
606 BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 experience, and establish a military character, of no ordinary distinction. 
 But to have perfumed this service, under a commander so severe, with suc 
 cess and honour, and to have secured his highest confidence, was a more 
 conclusive proof of military genius and talents. And that Baron Steuben 
 did this, is sufficiently evident, from the single fact, were there no other, of 
 his having served as aid to his Prussian majesty; who would have no offi 
 cer around his person, that did not sustain the first reputation for courage 
 and capacity. The Baron rose to the high rank of lieuteriaut- general in 
 the Prussian service. 
 
 At the breaking out of the American war, there was a general peace in 
 Europe; which favoured the wishes of those patriots and adventurers in 
 that hemisphere, wtio desired to signalize their valour and patriotism, in 
 assisting an infant people, struggling for their rights. Among the nu 
 merous foreigners, who honoured the American cause, by crossing the 
 Atlantic to serve it, some no doubt acted from no other motive, than those 
 which usually govern the conduct of military adventurers. Many, how 
 ever, without doubt, were influenced by more noble and exalted motives; a 
 regard for liberty, and a sincere desire to establish it in the new world ; 
 which might serve both as an asylum, and an example for the old. And. 
 notwithstanding the arbitrary government of Prussia, under which he had 
 lived, such were the sentiments and views of Baron de Steuben. His en 
 lightened mind led him to esteem civil liberty, as the highest earthly good ; 
 and he was desirous of consecrating his attachment to it, by his services, 
 if not by his blood. He sailed from France to the United States, and 
 arrived at Portsmouth, in New-Hampshire, in Nov. 1777. He brought 
 with him strong recommendations from the American commissioners at 
 Paris, and others, to congress. Notwithstanding which, however, he in 
 formed that body, that he wished for no rank, or compensation, and only 
 requested permission, as a volunteer, to render what service he could to 
 the American army, and the cause in which the country was engaged. r 
 The following winter he spent at Valley Forge; where the American army 
 was in winter quarters, under Washington. As is well known, the army 
 at this time was in a most suffering condition; being in want of provisions, 
 clothing, and almost every thing which their comfort required. But, 
 notwithstanding these discouraging circumstances, Baron de Steuben ex 
 erted himself, with great assiduity, to improve the discipline and manoeuvres 
 of the army. From his great military science and experience, his pru 
 dent conduct, and the interest he manifested in the cause he had espous 
 ed, he soon acquired the confidence of Washington. Early in the year 
 1 778, ijieneral Conway resigned the office of inspector general ; and Wash 
 ington, sensible of the great military skill and acquirements of Steuben, 
 immediately recommended him to congress, for that important post; which 
 was soon after conferred on him, with the rank of major general. 
 
 Being clothed with authority, and it being now his particular duty to at 
 tend to the discipline of the troops, his distinguished talents as a tacti 
 cian were soon rendered conspicuous in the improved discipline of the 
 troops. He exerted himself to introduce a uniform and improved system 
 of manoeuvres, and by his skill, perseverance, and industry, effected, du 
 ring the continuance of the troops at Valley Forge, a most important and 
 advantageous improvement in the discipline of all ranks of the army. 
 After General Arnold had treacherqusJy deserted his post at West-Point t 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 607 
 
 the Baron never failed to manifest his indignation and abhorrence of his 
 name and character, and while inspecting Col. Sheldon s regiment of light 
 horse, the name of Arnold struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to 
 the front, he was a fine-looking fellow, his horse and equipments in excel 
 lent order-"Change your name, brother soldier," said the Baron, "yih aro 
 too respectable to bear the name of a traitor." "What name shall I take. 
 General?" "Take any other name; mine is at your service." Most 
 cheerfully was the offer accepted, and his name was entered on the roll as 
 Steuben. He or his children now enjoy the land given to him in the 
 town of Steuben by the Baron. This brave soldier met him after the 
 war. "lam well settled, General," said he, "and have a wife and son; I 
 have called my son after you, Sir." "I thank you, my friend; what name 
 have you given the boy?" "I called him Baron what else could I call 
 iiim?" 
 
 When Sir Henry Clinton evacuated Philadelphia for New York, and 
 was pursued by Washington, Steuben accompanied the American army: 
 and although he had no particular command, he volunteered in the action 
 of Monmouth. He continued his exertions to improve the discipline of 
 the army, and to introduce his system, and thus establish uniformity 
 throughout the different corps of the army; and for this purpose, in 1779, 
 an abstract of his system of discipline and tactics was published in com 
 pliance with the wishes of the commander in chief, and of congress. 
 This being put into the hands of all the officers, had a wonderful influence 
 in improving, and giving uniformity to the different corps of the army. 
 
 In October, 1780, after the defeat and dispersion of the southern army 
 at Camden, under General Gates, great anxiety was felt for the fate of 
 the southern states; and congress, in a particular manner, directed their 
 attention to the state of the war in that department. General Greene was 
 appointed to supercede Gates; Major Lee was promoted to the rank of 
 lieutenant-colonel, and ordered to join the southern army with his legion* 
 ary corps; and Baron de Stuben was directed to proceed to Virginia, to 
 organize, from the militia, and other elements which the state afforded, 
 the means of defence against the forces of the enemy, then in the state, 
 and threatening the destruction of its principal towns. 
 
 While upon this duty, a regiment had been collected, and was paraded 
 on the point of marching, when a well-looking man on horseback rode up 
 and informed the Baron that he had brought him a recruit. "I thank you, 
 Sir," said the Baron, "with all my heart where is your man Colonel?" 
 for he was a colonel in the militia. "Here, Sir," ordering his boy to dis 
 mount. The Baron s countenance changed, for he was to honest too suffer 
 an imposition to be practised on the public A sergeant was ordered to 
 measure the lad, whose shoes, when off, discovered something by which 
 his stature had been increased. The Baron patting the child s head, with 
 his hands trembling with rage, asked him how old he was? He was very 
 young, quite a child. "Sir," said he, to the militia Colonel, "you must 
 have supposed me to be a rascal." "Oh no! Baron, I did not." "Then, 
 Sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infamous rascal, thus to attempt to 
 cheat your country. Sergeant, take off this fellow s spurs and place him 
 in the ranks, that we may have a man able to serve instead of an infant, 
 whom he would basely have made his substitute! Go, my boy, take the 
 colonel s spurs and horse to his wife; make my compliments, and say her 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 husband has gone to fight tor the freedom of his country, as an hones* 
 man should do" and instantly ordered "Platoons! to the right wheel 
 forward march !" 
 
 Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearing the consequen 
 ces, fter marching some distance, allowed the man to escape, who im 
 mediately made application to the civil authority for redress; but Gov. 
 Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others not doubting the purity of (he Baron s 
 motive and fully appreciating his honest zeal, prevented any disagreeable 
 results attending this high-handed exertion of military power. 
 
 Great apprehensions were felt for the safety of Richmond, threatened 
 by the British General Leslie at Portsmouth; but about the time the Ba 
 ron arrived at the capital of Virginia, the enemy left Portsmouth, which 
 prevented the necessity of those measures which had been planned fof 
 his expulsion, and Virginia, for a short time remained tranquil. Early in 
 January, 81, however, this repose was disturbed by the arrival of the 
 traitor, Arnold, in the Chesapeake, who landed his forces on the James 
 River, a few miles below Richmond. His ravages were immediately felt 
 at Richmond, Smithfield, and other places. Baron de Steuben exerted 
 himself to collect and organize a force of militia to oppose his destructive 
 progress. This induced Arnold to retire to Portsmouth, and commence 
 works of defence. But the militia carne in slow, and a considerable por 
 tion of which being without arms, the Baron could do no more than pro 
 tect the country from the predatory incursions of small parties. These 
 movements in Virginia induced congress to order La Fayette to the south, 
 to oppose Arnold, with the expected co-operation of the French fleet. All 
 the troops of the continental establishment of Virginia, being under Gen. 
 Greene, in South Carolina, the defence of the state, against the depreda 
 tions of the enemy, rested on the militia, of which the Baron had collected 
 about 2,000: one half were on the north side of James River, under Gen. 
 Nelson, and with the other half the Baron made an attempt to protect 
 Petersburg!), but his means being wholly inadequate to the object, he was 
 obliged to retreat, and suffer the enemy to enter the town. Previous to 
 this, Arnold had been reinforced by General Phillips, who had taken the 
 chief command. The Baron could do no more than watch the motions, 
 of the enemy, and check the predatory incursions of small parties. 
 
 On the arrival of the Marquis de La Fayette, with a small force of reg 
 ulars, he joined Steuben, and took upon him the chief command. Their 
 united force checked the progress of General Phillips, and compelled him 
 to turn his steps towards City-Point, where his fleet lay. 
 
 In the various marches and counter-marches which characterized the 
 operations between La Fayette and Lord Cornwallis, who soon after as 
 sumed the command of the British forces in Virginia, the Baron Stouben 
 afforded the most prompt and ready assistance to the Young Marquis. He 
 was stationed at Point Fork, with 500 new levies to protect the American 
 stores, when Tarleton was ordered to destroy them ; and as the enemy 
 approached, being led into a belief that the whole British army was near, 
 he deemed it advisable to make a rapid retreat during the night, leaving 
 all the stores to fall a sacrifice to the enemy. But though he lost the 
 stores, he saved his men, and succeeded in joining the Marquis, at the same 
 time that he received a reinforcement of the rifle corps, under Colonel 
 Clark, which enabled the Marquis to assume a more imposing attitude. 
 
BARON DE STEtfBEr^ 609 
 
 The Baron continued to co-operate with La Fayette in the subsequent 
 events of the campaign, which was terminated by the seige of Yorktown. 
 He generally had the command of militia, or of new levies, and was 
 improving their discipline whilst he was aiding the operations of the 
 Marquis. He was present during the seig-e of Yorktown, and exerted 
 himself with great ardour in the various operations, and commanded in 
 the trenches on the day the enemy surrendered, and was entitled to a 
 share in the honor of this memorable siege, which so gloriously termina 
 ted the great struggle in which the country was engaged. 
 
 "At the siege of Yorktown the Baron was in the trenches, at the head 
 of his division, and received the first overture of Lord Corn wall is to ca 
 pitulate. At the relieving hour, next morning, the Marquis de la Fa^ tte 
 approached at the head of his division to relieve him. The Baron refused 
 to quit the trenches, assigning as a reason the etiquette in Europe, that 
 the otfer to capitulate had been made during his tour of duty, and that it 
 was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his troops, to remain 
 in the trenches till the capitulation was signed or hostilities recommenced. 
 The dispute was referred to the commander-in-chief, and the Baron was 
 permitted to remain till the British flag was struck. While on this duty, 
 the Baron peceiving himself in danger from a shell thrown from the enemy, 
 threw himself suddenly into the trench; General Wayne, in the jeopardy 
 and hurry of the moment fell on him; the Baron turning his eyes, saw 
 it was his brigadier, I always knew you were a brave general," said he, 
 but I did not know you were so perfect in every point of duty, you cover 
 your general s retreat in the best manner possible. " 
 
 The Baron returned to the northward, and remained with the army, 
 continually employed, till the peace, in perfecting its discipline. 
 
 "At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates of the 
 same tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating, and probably for 
 ever; grasping each other s hand, in silent agony, I saw," says Dr Tha- 
 cher, in his Military Journal, "the Baron s strong endeavors to throw some 
 ray of sunshine on the gloom, to mix some drop of cordial with the pain 
 ful draught. To go, they knew not whither; all recollection of the art 
 to thrive by civil occupations lost, or to the youthful never known. Their 
 hardearned military knowledge worse than useless, and with their badge 
 of brotherhood, a mark at which to point the finger of suspicion ignoble 
 vile suspicion ! to be cast out on a world, long since by them forgotten. 
 Severed from friepds, and all the joys and griefs which soldiers feel! 
 Griefs, while hope remained when shared by numbers, almost joys! 
 Togo in silence and alone, and poor and hopeless; it was too hard? 
 On that sad day how many hearts were wrung! I saw it all, nor will 
 the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my view. To a stern old 
 officer, a Lieutenant-Colonel Cochran, from the Green Mountains; 
 who had met danger and difficulty almost in every step from his youth, 
 and from whose furrowed visage a tear till that moment had never fallen, 
 the Baron said what could be said, to lessen deep distress? For myself/ 
 said Cochran, I care not, 1 can stand it; but my wife and daughters are 
 in the garret of thai wretched tavern. I know not where to remove, nor 
 have I means for their removal! Come, my friend, said the Baron, let 
 us go I will pay my respects to Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you 
 I followed to the loft, the lower rooms being all filled with sol- 
 
610 BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 diers, with drunkenness, despair, and blasphemy. And when the Baron 
 left the poor unhappy cast-aways, he left hope with them, and all he had 
 to give. A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the wharf (for 
 it was at Newburgh where this tragedy was acting) there was a vessel in 
 the stream, bound to the place where he once had friends. He had not 
 a dollar to pay his passage, and could not walk. Unused to tears, I saw 
 them trickle down this good man s cheeks as he put into the hands of the 
 black man the last dollar he possessed. The negro hailed the sloop, and 
 cried, God Almighty bless you, master Baron . 
 
 "What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the accursed 
 party-spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love the Baron? 
 WV g> most? Those who knew him best. After the peace the Baron re 
 tired to a farm in the vicinity of New York, where, with forming a system 
 for the organization and discipline of the militia, books, chess, and the frej 
 quent visits of his numerous !riends, he passed his time as agreeably as a 
 frequent want of funds would permit. The state of New Jersey had 
 given him a small improved farm, and the state of New York gave him 
 a tract of sixteen thousand atres of land in the county of Oneida. After 
 the general government was in full operation, by the exertions of Colonel 
 Hamilton, patronised and enforced by President Washington, a grant of 
 two thousand five hundred dollars per annum was made to him for life. 
 The summers were now chiefly spent on his land, and his winters in the 
 city. His sixteen thousand acres of land were in the uncultivated wil 
 derness; he built a convenient log-house, cleared sixty acres, parcelled 
 out his land on easy terms to twenty or thirty tenants, distributed nearly 
 a tenth of the tract in gifts to his aids-de-camp and servants, and sat him 
 self down to a certain degree contented without society, except that of a 
 young gentleman who read to and with him. lie ate only at dinner, but 
 he ate with a strong appetite. In drinking he was always temperate; in 
 deed he was free from every vicious habit. His powers of mind and body 
 were strong, and he received to a certain extent, a liberal eduction. His 
 days were undoubtedly shortened by his sedentary mode of life. He was 
 seized with an apoplexy, which in a few hours was fatal. Agreeably to 
 his desire oflen expressed , he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain 
 coftin, and hid in the earth, without a stone to tell where he lies. A few 
 neighbors, his servants, the young gentleman his late companion, and one 
 on whom for fifteen years his countenance never ceased to beam witli 
 kindness, followed to the grave. It was in a thick, a lonely wood; but 
 in a few years after a public highway was opened near or over the hallow 
 ed sod! Col. Walker snatched the poor remains of his dear friend from 
 sacreligious violation, and gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he 
 laid them, from rude and impious intrusion. He died in 1 795, in the 65th 
 year of his age." 
 
 .Baron Steuben possessed profound and extensive professional knowl 
 edge, the result of much study and experience, which was united with a 
 competent share of general science and intelligence, matured by great 
 experience; he was accomplished in his manners, correct in his morals, and 
 was sincerely attached to the dearest interest of humanity. His system of 
 discipline and tactics, was adopted in the militia of the United States, 
 and continued to be used fora great number of years; and had a veryexten 
 sive and salutary influence in promoting discipline and knowledge of the 
 use of arms. 
 
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